Wednesday, November 7, 2007

...And There Was Much Swearing Involved

As I've mentioned here before, I get my monthly comics through a mail-order service. The shipments usually arrive on the first Monday or Tuesday of the following month, and, for that week, it's like a little Christmas around here.

So, yesterday, my October comics arrived.


However, when looked on the side of the box, what I saw caused some consternation.


My first reaction to this was cautious hope--the hole wasn't big enough for any comics to have fallen out. But when I opened the box, my hope was dashed.


It appeared that something long, hard, and cylindrical penetrated the box and pushed a piece of cardboard all the way through.

Then I pulled out the comics, and this is where the swearing began.



Though they've flattened out a bit since coming out of the box, what I initially pulled out was basically a wadded ball of comics. Most of these are so torn up in the front and back that they are partially unreadable, with chunks torn out of some. The Flash issue pictured above is in shreds, with pieces coming out every time I try to turn a page.

Here are some of the other severely damaged comics.






This copy of Suburban Glamour 1 is the one that hurts the most. I'm pretty sure I can replace it, though, if I need to. I have an email out to the comic supplier, and their policies state that they will replaced damaged merchandise, so I'm hopeful that this will all work out.

Some comics managed to survive in good shape, though. Unfortunately, Fate is a cruel mistress. For example, Death of the New Gods 1 was utterly destroyed, but issue 2 of that series is perfectly fine; however, I want to be able to read issue 1 first, of course.

Here are some of the comics that came out in good shape.



At first, I thought the last one was damaged, but then I just realized it was written by Steve Niles. (Zing!)
(I kid, but this comic really isn't very good, and I think it's a cruel, cruel God who would allow this comic to escape unscathed while Suburban Glamour takes a beating.)

Now, as I always say, when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. At the very least, I think I have the Other Dr. K's Christmas present worked out:



Step 1: Taken care of.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Count Ten, Superman--and Die!

After the marathon Halloween Countdown, I needed to take some time off of the blog to regroup, plus I had a couple of professional writing gigs that came due, but now I'm back and preparing for the 100th page of the 100-Page Super Spectacular, coming in a couple of days.

Meanwhile, I've been digging deep into my collection to bring you one of the craziest tales of Super-D-Bag-ination ever put on paper, from Action Comics 445 (1975):

(Super-D-Bag-ination copyright and tm Dr. K, and is not to be confused with any other product or concept)


(Editor Julius Schwartz: never met a good cover concept that he didn't drive into the ground.)


Not since Sister Mary Elizabeth tried to teach me my numbers in Kindergarten by applying a ruler to my backside has counting seemed so ominous and threatening!

While much focus in the comic blogosphere is given to the crazy comic stories produced by the likes of Bob Kanigher and Bob Haney, little credit is given to Cary Bates for writing equally insane stories during his long run on Superman titles in the 70s, and "Count Ten, Superman--and Die!" is no exception.


The story opens in typical Cary Bates fashion with a conceit that is immediately mindblowing in its sheer impossibility. Here, Clark Kent goes to Metropolis Civic Center to hear a lecture by Superman. Even the comic's narrator is completely confused, yet he also takes the time to calm the reader down in order to pay attention to the explanation.



So, just to be clear here: the actor who plays Superman in the DC Universe is horribly disfigured in an accident on the set of the show. Superman, then, in a supreme act of Super-D-Bag-ination (tm), performed some non-AMA approved medical techniques in order to reconstruct the actor's face to look just like Superman. Meanwhile, millions of young children in the DC Universe are horribly disfigured in fires, and do we ever see Superman performing his miracle plastic surgery on them? Not if they don't want Superman's face, I guess.

Man. Even Dr. Christian Troy thinks that's egotistical.


Now, let's get this straight. Superman constantly goes through time-consuming contortions to keep his Superman and Clark Kent identities separate, especially from Lois Lane, and there is a guy living in Metropolis all along who looks and sounds exactly like Superman? WTF?


To make the Super-D-Bag-ination even worse, the actor Greg Reed reveals that Superman can provide him with a pill that gives him powers for 12 hours. And does Superman give him the pill to help fight crime or to stop natural disasters while Superman is away on an emergency? No. Instead, Superman pimps the guy out to children's parties, and he has no problem lying to a dying little girl.

What a d-bag.

Immediately after telling Lois this story, fake-Superman is struck down my an interstellar blast, and Clark quickly ducks out to change into the real Superman.

Meanwhile, the source of the blast is revealed, and it comes from the intergalactic "Superman Revenge Squad."


It's good to see that pimp-slapping is an activity that transcends Earth cultures.

Once the slappies are done, the Revenge Squad quickly correct their mistake and send the "Puls-Bolt" to the desired target: Superman. Revenge Squad member Basil Exposition then reveals the plan:


I would take issue, however, with the designation of "flying the actor to the hospital" as a "Super-Feat." If that were the case, then any instance of Superman flying should count toward the ten feats, and it clearly doesn't happen that way.

So, what other "Super-Feats" does Superman perform?

For one, he simultaneously pulls the ripcords on three skydivers who have been superglued together by a jealous colleague:



Also, he dry-humps a shark.


Apparently, this technique is fine for keeping sharks out of Metropolis, but for some reason, Superman doesn't use it on, say, Brainiac. However, I don't have any quibbles characterizing shark-humping as a "Super-Feat."

Another side-effect of the puls-bolt is that, for no apparent reason, it makes Superman extra-emotional. Here, Clark Kent gets some of the usual ribbing from his colleague Steve Lombard, which causes Clark to start crying.


I'd just like to note here that, in William Gibson's novel Pattern Recognition, "Lombard" is an acronym that stands for "Lots of Money, but a Real Dick." Steve Lombard is, without question, a real dick.

After ten feats, Superman suddenly collapses, and the Revenge Squad begins to celebrate their victory. However, anyone paying even the smallest amount of attention to the story probably is not at all surprised by what comes next:


In a further example of Super-D-Bag-ination, Superman explains how he created this unnecessarily complicated plot, which included Clark's fake emotional jags, in order to defeat the Revenge Squad. Honestly, this story should have been three panels: Superman notices the bad guys, flies into space after them, and then wrecks their shit. The End. Instead, he goes through all this ridiculous crap in order, it seems, to entertain himself.


And notice that Superman seems pretty nonplussed about his attackers getting killed by their fellow Revengers. What a douche.

Credits: Action Comics 445 (March 1975). Story by Cary Bates, art by Curt Swan and Kurt Schaffenberger.

Friday, November 2, 2007

Happy 80th Birthday, Steve Ditko!

Today is the 80th birthday of one of the greatest comics artists, Steve Ditko. Here are a few of his covers from my collection, including two from one of my favorite Ditko creations, Beware, the Creeper:


Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Dr. K's Halloween Countdown: The Aftermath!

The trick-or-treating has come to an end, and it seems as if our plan was a success. The Other Dr. K and I decided this year that instead of giving out candy to all the little ghouls and goblins, we would hand out containers of Play-Doh (we found special Halloween trick-or-treat packages of Play-Doh at Target). I was a bit worried about this plan, as I envisioned a bunch of disappointed, sugar-starved hellions "doh-ing" our house and cars, so I wanted to have some candy around as a back-up plan in case we started to get some complaints.

However, I needn't have worried. Most of the kids, when seeing what we put in their bags, went tearing across the yard screaming, "I got Play-Doh!!!" We also had many parents come to our door to tell us that they really liked that we gave out Play-Doh instead of candy. And the worst reaction I got from a little boy was one who wanted pink Play-Doh instead of black. I told the kid that I was proud of him for resisting fundamental, essentialized notions of gender, and I gladly made the exchange. Also, two older boys just handed it back to the Other Dr. K, but were polite enough not to throw it at us or our property. I'll keep my fingers crossed that, when I get up in the morning, I won't have a tailpipe stuffed with Doh.

(We have a phenomenon around here where teenagers often go trick-or-treating, but without costumes. This, in my book, violates some fundamental but unwritten contract of Halloween: costumes = trick-or-treating; no costumes = walking up to a house and asking for food. It goes like this: you knock on my door, I answer, you say "Trick or Treat!", I tell you how cute and/or scary you look in your costumes, you get treats. I have to say, though, I did give some of these costumeless kids the candy instead of the Doh.)

All together, we gave away over 100 containers of Play-Doh this year. Next year, I think we'll mix things up a bit by getting both Play-Doh and the small ashcan comics that some companies has started producing over the last couple of years. But, in the meantime, I'm going to sit back and hypocritically enjoy a big bowl of Almond Joys that we didn't give away, as that is my single, all-time favorite candy bar (followed closely by Kit Kats).

Did anyone else have good trick-or-treating experiences this year?

Dr. K's Halloween Countdown Presents: Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween!

Thanks to everyone who joined me in the Halloween Countdown. I hope you all have an awesome Halloween, and that you get lots of candy (but no rocks!).

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Dr. K's Halloween Countdown Presents: Favorite Scary Covers!

With Halloween fast approaching, I want to spend today and tomorrow covering some of my favorite horror comics and movies. Today, I'm posting some of my favorite scary covers from horror comics I have owned.

This Wally Wood cover from Eerie 2 is probably my favorite horror comic cover in my collection. This just doesn't look like a good situation.


I've had this issue of Phantom Stranger since I was a kid, and for some reason, this Neal Adams cover gave me nightmares. I think, even then, I had a fear of evil children.


This Jose Luis Garcia Lopez cover for Ghosts 1 meets Chris Sims's criteria for a good horror comic cover by featuring a skeleton where it shouldn't belong.


House of Mystery 201 is a comic I wish I still owned. The cover story, with interior art by the great Jim Aparo, is about a kid who transforms into a violent, demonic persona. In order to control him, his parents arrange a lobotomy, and the last panel shows the boy playing on the lawn in a near-vegetative state. Just substitute Ritalin for the lobotomy, and you've got a story that's still scary and relevant today. If I'm not mistaken, I think this cover is by Mike Kaluta.


Another House of Mystery cover, this one by Berni Wrightson. Wrightson is awesome, and that is all I have to say about that. Also, like the last cover, this one also features a female character reading in a chair while a threat looms behind her. Interesting.


While Wrightson and Adams did some great covers for DC's horror books in the 60s and 70s, I think that Nick Cardy's covers for the same books are quite underrated (and often uncredited, though his style is distinctive enough to spot). This cover has more fantasy elements to it, but it's still nicely done.


Though not a horror title per se, Jim Aparo's Spectre covers for his run on Adventure Comics were really boundary-pushing in the 70s. This one also had an effect on me as a child.


Joe Kubert did the first five covers or so for Weird War Tales, this one being for issue 3. These covers really combined Kubert's talents for both war and horror comics. I also like the adjective "Gut-Grabbing."


Not a scary cover, but I do like cats.


Take the stupid spider with a skull off this Neal Adams cover, and it makes a certain painting by Edvard Munch look like a pile of puke.

Dr. K's Halloween Countdown Presents: House of Frankenstein!

As Universal Studios' monster franchises were winding down during World War II, the studio tried to raise the ante and staunch the draining creativity from the properties by putting out movies that featured almost all of the creatures either teaming up or fighting each other. Three movies at the tail end of the Universal cycle form a nice trilogy: Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943), House of Frankenstein (1944), and House of Dracula (1945). While these movies are far from scary, and appear very cheaply made, they are well-paced fun, and I find I get the same enjoyment out of them today that I got when I saw them on the afternoon movie show when I got home from school. My favorite of the three is the Empire Strikes Back of the trilogy: House of Frankenstein.

In a gothic prison, a guard delivers a meal to a cell, only to have a hand reach through the cell door opening and clamp around the guard's throat. The camera pans to reveal Boris Karloff with a Rasputin-like beard demanding, "Now will you give me my chalk?" The guard complies.

Scrawled on the inside of the cell are many formulas and drawings, as Karloff's Dr. Niemann is trying to recreate the brain transplant experiments of Dr. Frankenstein. And he promises Daniel (J. Carrol Naish), his hunchbacked, Igor-ish cell mate, a perfect body if he can only get ahold of Frankenstein's records. As if responding from some divine power, lightning suddenly strikes the prison, leaving a hole through which the prisoners can escape.

As Niemann and Daniel leave the prison, they discover a small carnival wagon train belonging to Professor Lampini's Chamber of Horrors stuck in the mud, and they exchange their assistance for a ride. The Chamber of Horrors happens to feature as its star attraction the skeleton of Dracula, complete with wooden stake through the heart. Niemann decides that Lampini's show will make the perfect cover for his plans to seek revenge on those who had him imprisoned, and he orders Daniel to kill the Professor. All together, Niemann has something like three plans to fulfill: getting revenge, finding Frankenstein's notes, and returning to his lab for his own experiments.

Niemann pretends to be Professor Lampini, and following a show, he removes the stake and revives Count Dracula (John Carradine). The two make a deal: Dracula will do Niemann's bidding, and the doctor will take care of the vampire's coffin home. Carradine is not a great Dracula--he's better at playing mad scientists and wild men. Of course, his Dracula gets much worse in Billy the Kid vs. Dracula, which is among the worst movies ever made. His hypnotic gaze especially over the top.

Dracula enacts one piece of revenge for Niemann, killing a burgermeister who helped send him to prison. Dracula also attempts to seduce the young bride of the burgermeister's son, but he is soon found out and run out of town. However, during an exciting carriage chase, Dracula is killed, as the sun rises before he can return to his coffin. Only thirty minutes into the movie, and Dracula is already dead. In fact, the first half of the movie forms a complete story in itself, giving this movie an episodic feel.

Niemann and Daniel escape the town and head for the next stage. Luckily, the area roadsigns helpfully point out that "Frankenstein" is only 1km away. Along the way, though, the pair stop to watch a gypsy dancer, named Ilonka, perform, and Daniel quickly falls in love. He later rescues her from a thrashing when she won't give all of her earnings to her boss. He then places her unconcious body onto their wagon and takes her with on their journey to Castle Frankenstein.

Or what's left of it. In the previous film, the castle was virtually destroyed in a flood, and both the Frankenstein monster (Glenn Strange) and the Wolf Man (Lon Chaney Jr.) were left frozen in an underground cavern. Niemann finds the notes and the creatures, who will now factor in to his elaborate plans for further revenge. That plan: take the two monsters back to his own laboratory and then transplant the brains of his two remaining enemies into the bodies of the creature and the Wolf Man.

Meanwhile, Ilonka falls in love with Larry Talbot, the human guise of the Wolf Man. It seems, though, that she falls in love with him primarily through process of elimination: he's not a hunchback, nor is he an obsessed mad scientist or creature made of the parts of various corpses. With those choices, she picks the guy who only turns into a murderous monster a few days out of every month.

Together, Ilonka and Larry make a plan of their own: the Wolf Man has recently killed a girl from the village, and if he ever attacks Ilonka, she must be prepared to shoot him through the heart with a silver bullet. On the next full moon that evening, he does attack her, and she shoots him, but not before he gives her a fatal bite wound. Then, in a rapid series of events, Daniel almost kills Niemann, but the creature throws the hunchback out of a window before he can finish the job. Meanwhile, villagers seeking the Wolf Man have noticed the activity at the formerly deserted castle. The creature then carries the incapacitated Niemann out of the castle, past the torch-bearing villagers, and into a handy pool of quicksand. The End.

This movie is nothing if not efficient. It's a lean 71 minutes, and it jams in a lot of plot at a very fast pace. In fact, there isn't a lot of downtime in the movie, and it probably takes longer to summarize it than to watch it. Leonard Maltin's Film Guide describes this movie as "tough to dislike," and I think that sums it up well. It's preposterous and disjointed, but it doesn't slow down long enough for the audience to worry about its deficiencies. At worst, the movie leaves the audience wanting more of the same, and luckily Universal delivered more with House of Dracula, which reunited Carradine, Chaney, and Strange as the holy trinity of movie monsters.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Dr. K's Halloween Countdown Presents: The Brides of Dracula!

I teach Bram Stoker's novel Dracula almost every semester in an introduction to literature course, so I have a certain fondness for vampire films. But, as I tell my students every semester, the "quality-to-crap ratio" is pretty off balance in the genre, and I've given up on seeking out new vampire films unless they have something extraordinary to recommend them. I do, however, frequently extoll to my students the virtues of the Dracula cycle from England's Hammer Studios, despite the presence of many duds in the final years of Hammer productions. The Hammer films were known for kicking up the sex and violence from the Universal horror cycle while also featuring a fine repertory of actors: most notably, Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. The series started with Horror of Dracula (1958), a very loose adaptation of the Stoker novel with Cushing as Dr. Van Helsing and Lee as Dracula. Lee wouldn't return to play Dracula for another eight years in Dracula--Prince of Darkness (1966), and even in that film, it takes more than half the movie for Dracula's servant to revive his master from the ashes of his fate in the first film. (The conclusion of that movie also featured one of the worst ways to defeat a vampire: Dracula is frozen in a lake. That doesn't defeat him--it just makes him someone else's problem later.)

In between those two movies, however, Hammer put out a couple of very good vampire movies: Brides of Dracula (1960) and Kiss of the Vampire (1962). Kiss of the Vampire, unfortunately, devolves from an awesome opening scene, where a mysterious, possibly drunk man stumbles into a somber funeral and suddenly thrusts a shovel into the grave and through the casket. When a scream and fountain of blood emit from the casket, several attendants faint and the man walks away. The camera then goes into the grave and through the casket to reveal that the young woman being buried is really a vampire! Unfortunately, the rest of the film does not live up to the opening, though it's still enjoyable.


I really enjoy Brides of Dracula, despite the false advertising of the title. While there are several vampire brides, Dracula is nowhere to be seen. Instead, we have Dracula's apprentice, of sorts: Baron Meinster, played by blond actor David Peel.

Also, the poster claims that the vampire "turns a girls' school into a Chamber of Horrors," but the movie fails to live up to that tantalizing promise as well. However, we do get the return of Peter Cushing as Dr. Van Helsing, putting this film in continuity with the rest of the Dracula cycle. So, minus Christopher Lee, this film has everything I love about the Hammer Dracula films, including the gothic setting and the psychosexual horror elements. The film was also directed by Terence Fisher, who directed most of the great Hammer horror films.

The film opens, as so many of these Hammer films do, with a young woman, Marianne, arriving in a strange village, near an all-girls school where she's about to start work as a teacher. Her carriage stops at an inn along the way, and the villagers start behaving strangely, refusing to serve her and advising her to move along. However, her carriage suddenly leaves without her, and the villagers all clear out of the inn for some mysterious reason. Moments later, thundering hooves can be heard from another carriage, and the Baroness Meinster enters the inn. She begins striking up a conversation wit Marianne despite the protestations of the innkeepers, who seem to know something about the Baroness. Soon, the Baroness has convinced Marianne to spend the night at Castle Meinster before embarking on the last leg of her journey in the morning.

I'm a sucker for this kind of opening--you see it in a lot of Hammer films, as well as movies like Die, Monster, Die!, which I commented on in an earlier post. These villagers have been living with this unspeakable horror their entire lives, and their moral system is so completely tuned to self-preservation that they easily sacrifice a total stranger.

While getting settled in her room at Castle Meinster, Marianne steps out on her balcony and sees a beautiful young man chained up in a room below. When she asks the Baroness about this, she responds that her son is "ill." Later, Marianne again looks out to the balcony to see the young man apparently trying to leap to his death, fearing the worst, she rushes to the room to save him. The young man then explains that he is the Baron Meinster, and his mother keeps him prisoner in the room. Feeling sympathy, Marianne resolves to help him escape.

Throughout these opening scenes, the viewer is in the same position as Marianne, assuming that the mother is the monster here, keeping her innocent son chained in his room. However, once Marianne allows him to escape, we learn that the truth is far worse: he's a deadly vampire, and his mother was the only one keeping him from running amok in the nearby villages. We also learn, though, that the mother has had to make some serious moral compromises to keep her son this way--she frequently would bring him young women to satisfy his hunger, and Marianne was soon to be the next victim.

The mother/son relationship is just one of the elements that make this movie interesting. Once the Baron is free, the first thing he does is transform his own mother into a vampire by biting her neck in a scene that does more than imply incest: "He has taken the blood of his own mother," she explains to Van Helsing as willingly allows herself to be destroyed by him later in the movie.

Van Helsing appears in the village at the behest of the local priest, who is trying to convince villagers that something must be done about the recent deaths of many of their young women. Peter Cushing's Van Helsing is coldly methodical. He's long since dealt with the emotional and moral issues of destroying vampires, and he has little time or patience for those who wish to treat the vampires as if they were still their loved ones.

My favorite part of this movie, though, is the climax, which contains one of the more clever methods of destroying a vampire. Van Helsing tracks a recently turned vampire bride to an old windmill, where The Baron soon arrives with Marianne. In the ensuing fight, the Baron bites Van Helsing and leaves him to his transformation. Van Helsing, however, acts quickly, cauterizing the bite wounds with a hot blacksmith's iron and dousing the burn with holy water. This does the trick, and he returns to the fight. The Baron then attempts to escape by torching the windmill. As the Baron runs away, Van Helsing makes his way to the top of the windmill, jumping on the blades and turning them so that their shadow, when cast across the Baron's path, make the form of a cross. The Baron then collapses dead in the shadow. This may be a bit silly, but it shows some of the inventiveness of these early Hammer horror films.

There are two good Hammer horror DVD boxed sets that I know about. The "Horror Collection" contains six movies all together, including three Dracula films: Horror of Dracula, Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, and Taste the Blood of Dracula. Unfortunately, the set skips Dracula--Prince of Darkness, and therefore confuses the continuity between movies. Brides of Dracula , along with Kiss of the Vampire, can be found on "The Hammer Horror Series," which features eight movies on two disks with no extras.

Dr. K's Halloween Countdown Presents: The End of the Creature Commandos and G. I. Robot!

As a bit of a companion piece to this entry over at the Invincible Super-Blog (as well as a follow-up to this post), here is the final appearance of both the Creature Commandos and G. I. Robot from Weird War Tales 124, also the final issue of that series:


This isn't just the final page, it's the entire story! Apparently, writer Bob Kanigher and artist Fred Carillo were given one entire page in this final issue to wrap up the stories of their creations. Obviously, this didn't sit well with the writer in particular, as he takes the opportunity to make a couple of digs in the story.

Here, the Creature Commandos get screwed in every way possible. First, they are put on trial "For rebelliously displaying signs of humanity," which is a total bullshit charge, and on top of that, they've had thousands of character witnesses speak for them at their trial, but to no avail.

The verdict also comes from a general whose name is exactly the same as the editor of this comic, which leads me to believe that Kanigher is dropping in some behind-the-scenes subtext that reveals his true feelings about the powers-that-be at DC.

However, Lt. Shrieve arrives with some new orders: the Creature Commandos, along with G. I. Robot (who seems to be thrown in for no reason), are "to man an ICBM" to blow up Hitler's Chancellory! Is manning an ICBM really a six-person job?

Turns out it isn't, as the job, like the verdict, is also bullshit, and the rocket heads into outer space rather than to Berlin.

Wait--six-person job? There were only four members of the Creature Commandos, plus G. I. Robot. So, who's the pipe-smoking man in the red jacket? According to the "Passenger List," it's "R. K."--none other than Bob Kanigher himself! Kanigher wrote some crazy-ass stuff, but he even tops himself here by riding off into space with his own creations. That's just got to be a big "screw you" to DC for cancelling the series.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Friday Night Fights: Take That, Halloween!

From Detective Comics 571 (1987), art by Alan Davis and Paul Neary, words by Mike W. Barr:



Batman punches the Scarecrow so hard that the only thing keeping Scarecrow's head on is his mask.

Bahlactus brings the tricks and the treats.

Special thanks to the Other Dr. K for providing the idea and headline for tonight's post.

Dr. K's Halloween Countdown Presents: The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires!


I'm going to make a bold statement here: no film in the history of cinema has a greater "anticipation-to-failure ratio" than The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (aka Dracula and the 7 Golden Vampires, aka 7 Brothers vs. Dracula, aka, 7 Brothers and a Sister vs. Dracula, aka The Seven Brothers Meet Dracula, aka Weekend at Bernie's II).

After all, the poster bills it as "The First Kung Fu Horror Spectacular," and the film is a coproduction of Hammer Studios and the Shaw Brothers Productions, each the masters of their respective genres. Clearly, this should be the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup of cinema: a sweet horror shell surrounding a delicious kung fu center--two genres that go great together. Instead, it's like the pancake reuben of cinema: two things that may be awesome on their own, but the sauerkraut and Russian dressing of kung fu fail to work together in execution with the pancakes of horror ("the pancake reuben" and "the pancakes of horror" tm 2007, Dr. K).

The film's biggest problem is that there is no kung fu for the first 30 minutes, and the film is less than 90 minutes long. Clearly, director Roy Ward Baker, who usually knew what he was doing in his other efforts for Hammer Studios (see the awesome Dr. Jekyll & Sister Hyde), was overwhelmed with the awesome potential of his material and simply allowed the horror and kung fu to negate themselves. If he knew what he was doing, this movie would consist entirely of martial artists kicking vampires in the head for it's entire running length.

Another problem with the film: Dracula only appears in it for about 5 minutes. This may explain why Christopher Lee does not reprise the role. Rumor has it that he was offered the movie, but turned it down once he read the script. Instead, Dracula is played by John Forbes-Robertson, who is pretty terrible. In the opening scene, taking place in 1804, Kah, the high priest of the 7 golden vampires, visits Dracula in Transylvania, and the Count decides to take on Kah's form and travel to China. Unfortunately, Kah speaks with the voice of Dracula, and the dubbing is terrible. Then, with no explanation, the film shifts to 1904. This makes no sense: if Dracula goes to China in 1804, does he travel back and forth to England in the intervening century? When does he get around to fighting Van Helsing and the others in the main Dracula story?

Despite my disappointment in this movie, the film features one of my favorite concepts in a vampire movie: the Chinese vampires respond to images of Buddha in the same way that Western vampires respond to the Christian cross or crucifix. As Van Helsing describes, "they abhor anything that has a holy significance." It also seems that, in general, rules for killing vampires differ from West to East. Eastern vampires are still susceptible to wooden stakes and silver bullets, but they can also be destroyed by fire.

Peter Cushing does return as Van Helsing, who is now traveling in China giving a lecture tour on Chinese folklore, which includes a poorly received lecture on the eponymous legend of the 7 golden vampires. Van Helsing is also accompanied by his son, Leyland (Robin Stewart), who manages to sit around a lot while others fight.

Van Helsing's lecture is believed by one audience member, Hsi Ching (David Chiang), who, along with six other brothers and a sister, has sworn to protect his ancestral village from the 7 golden vampires. Ching's brothers and sister all have special fighting skills: one is a master of the axe, another the spear, a third can swallow the sea, and a fourth can stretch his legs ... wait--I'm thinking of the 5 Chinese Brothers. Also, these shouldn't be mistaken for the "7 Chinese Brothers" of the REM song, though I don't have any idea of what that song's about, so it very well could be about this movie.

Soon, Van Helsing and Ching are planning an excursion to find this ancestral village, and they are soon joined by Scandinavian heiress Vanessa Buren, played by Julie Ege, perhaps the single worst actress to appear in any Hammer movie. That's no small accomplishment, considering that the primary requirements for casting women in these movies seem to be breast size and the ability to scream (Julie Ege also had a starring role in the sex comedy The Amorous Milkman, a film whose only virtue is its title).

In a rather nice and surprising move, romantic plots play out along inter-racial lines. It looks like, at the beginning, that Vanessa Buren will be hooking up with Leyland, but instead, she sets her eyes on Ching, while Leyland falls in love with the sister, Mai Kwei (a name that Leyland pronounces like "Make Way," which sounds like a rejected Asian Bond girl name). As Leyland says to Mai Kwei after a battle: "You are like a beautiful porcelain kitten, then suddenly you are a fighting tiger." (Coincidentally, I proposed to my wife with that very same line.)

If you are planning on watching this movie at any time, my biggest recommendation is to skip the first 30 minutes all together. It's mostly useless exposition that can be filled in by anyone who has ever seen a vampire movie before. After that, the movie has three fight scenes that are, generally, pretty good. Each of the brothers has his own specialty, and some are fun to watch, especially the axeman, the mace wielder, and the two swordsman who, for some reason, have to fight holding hands. The first fight happens for no apparent reason--the travelers are suddenly attacked in the middle of the desert by some random gang. In the second fight, the travelers seek shelter in a cave, only to be attacked by three of the golden vampires and their zombie army. Here, they learn some of the methods for killing vampires and zombies. Ching, for example, discovers that he can destroy zombies by thrusting his fists through their chests--a move I like to call the "dusty heart strike." When the golden vampires die, however, they look like deflating, dust-filled balloons.

The film's climax, however, does live up to expectations and makes the viewer wish that the rest of the film had more of the same excitement. There are even some genuine surprises, as in this scene, featuring Ching and Vanessa Buren, which you shouldn't watch if you plan on seeing the movie, as it spoils the ending:


In the end, there are many better horror movies and kung fu movies, so I find little to recommend here beyond the curiosity that this movie presents by virtue of its mere existence. By 1974, Hammer was pretty much tapped out creatively. In the next few days, though, I hope to look at some of Hammer's masterpieces, which are among my favorite horror movies.