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“Incubus” * (1965, Arrow Video) Soldier Marc (William Shatner) returns to his pastoral hometown (played by Big Sur), which hosts a well that heals the sick. He and his sister (Ann Atmar) are targeted by the evil spirits who prey upon visitors to the well, but one (Allyson Ames) falls for Marc, which unleashes the titular demon (Milos Milos). Ambitious. European arthouse-style feature by “Outer Limits” creator Leslie Stevens, who required his cast to deliver their lines in Esperanto** ; that choice, along with the heavy-handed occult and religious symbolism, threatens to tip “Incubus” into camp territory, but it’s largely countered by the otherworldly locations, shivery score by Dominic Frontiere, and photography by Oscar winner Conrad Hall. Lost for decades until a 35mm print was found in France in the late ’90s, Arrow’s Blu-ray and 4K discs contain two scans culled from that source: one which covers the burned-in French subtitles and a second that retains them without English subs. Two vintage commentaries – one with Shatner and one with Hall, uncredited DP William Fraker (who are also featured in a separate interview) and producer Anthony Taylor – join a new informative track by author/historian David Schow and new interviews with artist/historian Stephen Bissette (entertaining and enjoyable as always) on the film and author Esther Schor on the history of Esperanto.
“Vice Squad” * (1982, Kino Lorber Studio Classics) A 24-hour tour through the lower circles of LA, viewed through a dirty lens by co-writer/director Gary A. (“Death Line,” “Dead and Buried“) Sherman. A disjointed plot (originally conceived as an anthology film) that allows for various deep dives into substrata on both sides of the Hollywood vice trade, anchored by the pursuit of Ramrod (Wings Hauser), a supercharged psychopathic pimp whose murder of a sex worker (MTV VJ Nina Blackwood, of all people) makes him the target of vice cop Gary Swanson and moonlighting prostitute Season Hubley. What sets “Squad” apart from other Escape from LA exploitation films is the rhinestone glitter of Oscar winner John Alcott’s cinematography and its balance between wallowing in the grotesque (epitomized by Hauser’s outrageous performance) and its sense of embittered democracy: everyone involved is steeped in neon slime, as the movie’s theme song (sung by Hauser!) suggests, scuttling their way through a predatory landscape in extremis, en route to use and consume before they themselves are eventually used and consumed. With Fred “Rerun” Berry, the late Jonathan Haze, and familiar stretches of Hollywood and Sunset Blvds, including Crossroads of the World and the Hollywood Center Motel; Kino’s Special Edition 4K Blu-ray set includes two commentary tracks (Sherman and producer Brian Frankish on one, Hauser biographer Steve Mitchell on the other),multiple interviews ported over from the Scream Factory release, including engaging talks with Sherman (who discusses his early music docs) and co-stars Beverly Todd and Pepe Serna, and a tour of grimy filming locations (including the Hollywood Center Motel).
“Steppenwolf” * (2024, Arrow Video) In an unspecified, war-torn Central Asian country, the deeply traumatized Tamara (Anna Starchenko) finds that the only person both alive and capable of rescuing her kidnapped son is Brajyuk (Berik Aitzhanov), a brutish police interrogator with a personal interest in finding the boy. Thriller-drama from Kazakhstan is bleak and violent, but director Adilkhan Yerzhanov holds audience interest by filtering through stylistic choices and genre references (a shot that echoes John Ford’s “The Searchers” underscores its roots in American Westerns, while its gallery of grotesques and warped moral code nod to the Italian variety) and the remarkable performances of the two leads, who stubbornly cling to their humanity even as the world around them turns into a Boschian hellscape. That “Steppenwolf” is also at times morbidly funny is a tribute to Yerzhanov’s talents, though your mileage may vary in terms of its actual humor. Arrow’s Limited Edition, hi-def Blu-ray includes commentary by critic David Flint, a visual essay by historian Lee Broughton that notes the film’s various influences, and a making-of short which highlights its challenging production.
“Dario Argento’s Deep Cuts” (1973, 1987-1988, Severin Films) Far-ranging collection of TV work from Italian horror director Argento, including an anthology series and an unusual stint as a presenter, as well as several hard-to-find documentaries on his life and work. The anthology series, 1973’s “Door into Darkness,” takes up the first two discs in this four-disc set; the highlight of the modest quartet of thrillers is “The Tram,” directed by Argento at the height of his filmmaking talents (he also co-directed “Eyewitness” with Luigi Cozzi). Commentary for both episodes is also included, along with two career overview docs (“Dario Argento: My Cinema” and “Dario Argento: Master of Horror,” and new and archival interviews with Argento and Cozzi. More intriguing are a slew of shorts that Argento produced and/or directed for the Italian true crime series “Giallo.” “Night Shift” features a trio of cabbies with an uncanny knack for observing (and then trying to solve) crimes while collecting evening fares, while “Dario Argento’s Nightmares” are more freeform and surreal (and graphically violent) exercises that purport to depict Argento’s own bad dreams. At five to 15 minutes in length, the shorts are too brief to really deliver more than a shock or two, but in some cases, serve as a reminder of Argento’s skill at crafting horror and suspense at a time when his feature films were at the beginning of a precipitous decline. The disc rounds out with 85 minutes of additional footage from “Giallo” which features Argento as on-screen host, interviewing the likes of Anthony Perkins and a confused David Gilmour and Nick Mason (via satellite, which only adds to the communication breakdown) and sending Cozzi to Scotland to interview the Loch Ness Monster (!). Interviews with several “Giallo” participants, including Cozzi, Lamberto Bava (“Demons”) and writer Dardano Sacchetti, are also included in this set, which is required viewing for Argento completists.
“Monster from the Ocean Floor” * (1954, Film Masters) Black-and-white creature feature from Roger Corman who, in his debut as producer, showed the first inklings of his talent for delivering fast-paced, entertaining genre fare for pennies (“Monster” cost somewhere between $12,000 and $35,000). The plot is perfunctory at best — artist Anne Kimball and square marine biologist Stuart Wade discover that a sea monster is consuming divers off the Mexican coast (played at various times by Malibu and Catalina Island) — but Corman and director Wyatt Ordung (“Robot Monster”) still cram a surprising amount of production value into the film, most notably through Floyd Crosby’s underwater cinematography and Wade’s one-man sub (the monster, created by marionette maker Bob Baker, is no great shakes but rises to the occasion when necessary). With Corman regular Jonathan Haze (“Little Shop of Horrors”) and, briefly, a scene shot at El Cholo (an eagle-eyed discovery by writer Glenn Erickson); Film Masters’ Blu-ray offers a 4K transfer from original elements, which is a vast improvement over decades of crappy VHS and DVD releases, commentary by Tom Weaver (who folds audio from an interview with Corman into the track), and two featurettes, one on Baker and the other on Corman’s pre-Poe films.
