David Manning’s Manly Movies

[DAVID] From the “You Thought We Were Dead” department, this breaking news announcement: We’re back!

 

(NICK) And what, pray tell, did you bring me back for this time? What enlightening 90 minutes of digital-transfer greatness are you going to bestow on me tonight, O David of the Manning’s Manly Movies?

 

[DAVID] In honor of our seeming to have returned from the dead, I’ve picked a zombie flick.

 

(NICK) Oh for joy. And it’s going to be something good, right? A Romero flick, or Shaun of the Dead, or even one of the early Return of the Living Dead films?

 

[DAVID] It comes from overseas…

 

(NICK) Lucio Fulci?

 

[DAVID]No, Spain. 1982.

 

(NICK) Jacinto Molina?

 

[DAVID]  Jess Franco.

 

(NICK) No! David! You’re going to make me sit through a sleazy trash flick with some pathetic special effects thrown in, aren’t you?

 

[DAVID] Hey, if you’re going to hang with the manly movie maven—

 

(NICK) –I’m going to have to wash my eyeballs. What is this classic of Eurocult?

 

[DAVID] Mansion of the Living Dead. You have been warned.

 

(NICK) I have been warned.

 

93 minutes later…

 

(NICK) Where’s the nearest sink? I need to wash my eyeballs.

 

[DAVID] Hey, even when there was nothing going on, at least there was something to look at. Someone—it was either Russ Meyer or Jim Wynorski—once said, “Breasts are the cheapest special effects.” It definitely goes for this classic: Five pairs of them, courtesy of our protagonists, who go au naturale through most of the film. Our four nubile protags pull up to a beach resort in their topless Jeep Wrangler—their mode of transportation here definitely reflects their lifestyle—on vacation from their German topless resort, though they all speak Spanish.

 

(NICK) The hotel, the beaches, the pool, the whole village is empty. Nary a soul to be found except for the hotel concierge, who insists that they must take two rooms on opposite sides of the resort because all the other rooms are booked. Our heroines seem to have spent too much time in the sun, because they hardly bat an eye at this discrepancy.

 

[DAVID] Hey, they just want to get onto the beach and out of their clothes.

 

(NICK)  Now, I’m a sucker for a “The whole place is inexplicably deserted” premise—there is something chilling about wandering down empty streets, looking into empty buildings. But the women lose any credibility they might have had by their lack of reaction to this. They keep saying, “Everybody must be at the beach.” When they get to the beach—deserted—instead of thinking things are pretty fishy, they conclude that maybe everyone went on a day trip and proceed to sunbathe topless.

 

[DAVID] Then some unseen person throws a big butcher knife from a balcony, which pierces the sand right in between two of the sunbathing beauties. This freaks them out a little, but they shrug it off and try to continue enjoying their vacation. Now, when they stay one minute longer after someone tosses a knife at them, they maybe deserve to die. Not until a couple of them disappear do the remaining two start to get suspicious—and that’s only after their companions have been missing a whole day—and then they deal with it not by going and looking for them, but by having another lesbian scene.

 

(NICK) So you agree that this whole film is an utter waste of time?

 

[DAVID] What? Hello? Option A: Two distraught women sit around emoting with lots of subtitles. Option B: Sexual healing. No subtitles required. Which option do you think I opt for? This movie delivers my choose-your-own-adventure choice. And don’t forget—there are zombies!

 

(NICK) Oh yeah, this is a “living dead” movie. Turns out everyone’s missing because of some undead Knights Templar or something in a nearby abandoned mission. Rip-off of Tombs of the Blind Dead.

 

[DAVID] Homage to Tombs of the Blind Dead.

 

(NICK) The only thing this film pays homage to is being brain dead.

 

[DAVID] Ouch.

 

(NICK) Let’s talk about those pathetically cheap FX. The skulls beneath the monks’ hoods—cool at first, but the camera lingers on them way too long. It’s obvious after a couple seconds that they’re just masks over actors’ faces.  When that’s your effect, you put it in half-light, maybe through a filter, with some mist or fog, and cut away quick. Unless you’re just desperate to fill up film roll. And the head baddie, who’s supposed to be a fresher zombie, simply looks like someone rubbed face cream all over his cheeks. So, we could pull off these same effects with about $40 and a trip to the Halloween shop.

 

[DAVID] Did you follow the plot much? Because I was able to suspend my disbelief and enjoy the fine acting.

 

(NICK) Har-dee-har. The title is as pointless as the film: there is no mansion anywhere in this movie; all the action takes place in a resort hotel and an old mission. And the “living dead,” well, we’ve already said where they rate in terms of zombie effects. I saw better at my last Halloween party. The title is an empty promise. Hotel of Lamely Done Soft-core would have been truth in advertising. Behind the dime-store horror mask it’s a sexploitation flick, and since it doesn’t even do that well, there’s really no reason for anyone to want to watch it.

 

[DAVID] Hey, I’ll probably watch it again. Fast forward through some scenes of them just walking around.

 

(NICK) Keep your finger on the FF button, then, because you just described half the film. Jess Franco should be flogged, not for making a soft-core sexploitation flick, but for trying to put it into a plot that is utterly absurd even by B-movie standards.

 

[DAVID] Okay, time for Manning’s Studly Stats. Monster Menagerie: 1 (Zombies—some of the poorest in cinema history) Lovely Lady Lumps: 15 Let’s rate this one with bikini tops. How many bikini tops do you grant it?

 

(NICK) 0. Zero on the ladies through most of the film, and zero for this film.

 

(DAVID) 5 bikini tops.