By
Hank Reineke
I wasn’t expecting Citizen
Kane, really I wasn’t. When the
top-billed actor in your already quirky production is the Edward D. Wood
regular the Amazing Criswell, the failed psychic… Well, you know what to expect
on some gut level. The Amazing Criswell,
admittedly an already very minor celebrity psychic in his day, achieved certain
notoriety for his ridiculous and wildly inaccurate predictions. Following his turn in Wood’s seminal cult
classic Plan 9 from Outer Space
(1959) and the (very) belatedly released Night
of The Ghouls (shot in 1959 but only released in 1984), the pale,
blue-eyed, bleached blond Criswell is outfitted in Count Dracula-like garb for Orgy of the Dead (1965). This is, as one might expect, a classic
Criswell performance; it’s both refreshing and strangely comforting to listen
to him put all his dramatic inflection and stresses on the wrong words,
accentuating the coordinating conjunctions rather than the nouns of nearly
every sentence.
In Orgy of the Dead,
directed by A.C. Stephen from a threadbare “script†written by the revered Mr. Wood,
the not always Amazing Criswell portrays the “Emperor of the Night.†The Emperor is holding court at an eerie
cemetery… or as eerie a graveyard as one can set-dress on a shoe-string budget and
an indoor soundstage. The Emperor is soon
joined by his “Empress†(Fawn Silver), a Vampira- meets- Elvira character with
Sapphic tendencies who sports a layer of blue make-up that covers the entirety
of her body. Well, all of her body
except for the deep crease between her two ample breasts. I suppose the production’s make-up artist was
too shy to apply and “go deep.â€
If this spooky scenario seems promising in a “so-bad-it’s-good
sort-of-way,†there’s disappointment ahead. Despite its fog-bound horror film trappings, Orgy of the Dead is not remotely a horror film at all. In fact, the only genuine horror to be found on
screen is in the ineptitude demonstrated by this the ensemble of actors,
actresses, and, um, exotic dancers. There is no real narrative here; the film is merely a ninety-minute long
topless peep-show revue with Halloween trimmings. Before the film sputters to a merciful
finale, we’ve been made to witness no fewer than ten interpretative topless
dance routines, all mind-numbing and pretty much non-erotic in their presentation. It’s all freeform and non-stop bumping and
grinding and jiggling in panties and G-strings and bad costumes. Take my word on this; it’s not as good as it
might sound.
Orgy
of the Dead is the celluloid equivalent of those 1960’s
nudie magazines that featured buxom, cheesecake cuties on their covers. The sort of “men’s magazines†that were
prudently stashed in the top-tier racks of tobacco shops and stationary stores
as to not offend the readers of Good
Housekeeping or Better Homes and
Gardens. The parade of beauties and
near-beauties tapped to ply their trade before a leering camera are not former
members of the Martha Graham Dance Company. More probably, they took the night off from their regular gig performing
at a local topless gin mill or adult-themed nightclub. Or maybe they were
making some quick afternoon dough by strutting their stuff on this grass mat
and fog shrouded set.
The dancers try their damndest to play to the camera, but
it’s all sort of sad. Almost all of the cast
share one common trait, and not a good one: blank and expressionless eyes. Everyone seems to be looking past the rolling
cameras into some far-off beyond that only they can see, sadly detached from
their own performances-in-progress. I
imagine this type of personal disengagement was honed on stage during their
nightclub exhibitions, perhaps as some sort of protective emotional cocoon.
It’s almost a relief when, some twenty-five minutes or so
into a parade of not-particularly-well-executed interpretative dance routines,
that a muse seeking mystery novelist named Bob (William Bates) and best gal
Shirley (Pat Barrington) are kidnapped by a Mummy and a Wolfman, dragging the bewildered
pair from the bushes. One might expect
things to become a bit livelier with this turn of events but, sadly, it is not
to be. These two masked monsters (referenced
as “The Keepers of the Damnedâ€) simply strap the couple to a pair of stakes in
the cemetery, a punishment for their eavesdropping on the unholy ceremony in
progress. Forcing this bewildered couple
to bear witness to this seemingly endless string of interpretative dance
routines can certainly be considered cruel and unusual punishment. They should have invoked the Geneva
Convention.
Sync- sound recording is kept to the barest minimum,
confined only to the wince-inducing exchanges of dialogue between Bob and
Shirley and the self-proclaimed Emperor of Empress of the Night. I cannot reasonably include the occasional and
wretched banter between the Wolfman and Mummy as sound synch as both characters
are wearing masks and presumably dubbed throughout.
Even for the most unapologetic Edward. D. Wood devotee,
this endless parade of non-erotic topless dance routines becomes increasingly
tiring, the burlesque showcase more tedious than titillating. Even the Vampira meets Elvira –like “Empress
of the Night†character eventually dismisses the parade of nudie dance routines
as “infinitesimal bits of fluff,†and for once I’m in total agreement. The film starts off promisingly in the
classic Wood Jr. fashion with two bad actors tripping over their tongues as
they attempt to deliver halting sobriquets of Wood’s God-awful dialogue. But it’s all downhill from there.
Whether such a film is deserving of such velvet glove treatment is debatable, but there’s no denying that Vinegar Syndrome pulled out all the stops in bringing this special edition of Orgy of the Dead to Blu-ray for the first time. Supplements on this Blu-Ray/DVD combo include a commentary track by Ed Wood biographer Rudolph Grey and “Exploitation Filmmaker†Frank Henelotter. “Impressions of Nadejda†is an interview with actress Nadejda Dobrev who played the dancing “Slave Girl†in the film. Though Dobrev comes off as a bit of a Nora Desmond–type - emotive and perhaps more than a bit delusional – she openly shares an interesting back story in the segment, discussing - among other things - how she became involved in the film (she had apparently – surprise, surprise - come to the attention of the producers through a nudie photo session). More intriguing is her contention that Orgy of the Dead should be under curate by the Smithsonian as a time capsule-worthy example of 1960s cinema. Well, perhaps.
One of the best segments is “Orgy of the Ted,†an interview with cinematographer Ted. V. Mikels. Mikels talks at some length about Orgy’s principle cameraman Bob Caramico. Caramico was then only in his early thirties, desperately trying to go legit and get a union card as a Director-of-Photography. Mikels, already a seasoned veteran, did a lot of un-credited DP work on the film, mentoring his young friend. It continued to be a long, tough slough for Caramico, but he persevered. He continued working on low-budget exploitation films throughout the 1960s and 1970s before scoring DP duties (and professional success) on such popular television series as Lou Grant, The Waltons, and Dallas. Rounding out this set is impressive round of supplements is a behind-the-scenes & promotional stills gallery.
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