'The Seventh Commandment' (1961) – Irvin Berwick.

Verily, it would be a grievously unpardonable B-Movie sin to miss out on this enjoyably scummy, Noir-ish 60s potboiler about the skeevey blackmail machinations of pulchritudinous, killer-heeled platinum skeezer Terry James (Lyn Statten) and her victim, the not-so godly reverend Ted Morgan (Jonathan Kidd) with whom she shares a sinful secret! The director Berwick would go on to direct the cult grindhouse classic 'Hitch Hike to Hell' (1971) and sound mixer S.F Brownrigg would later helm the immortal 70s shocker 'Don't Look in The Basement' (1973). 

Berwick's pleasingly garish text greedily exploits all the amnesia, bible bashing, skid-row shenanigans, aggressive comic book carnality and blithe domestic violence an exploitation freak could ever hope for! Plus there's an agreeably grungy, Bukowskian taint to our boozy blackmailers crepuscular dive, whereby the sour miasma of sex, day-old hooch, stale cigarette smoke, and  mildewed laundry is quite palpable. An uplifting hymnal to the godless,'The Seventh Commandment' is yet another glistering exploitation jewel from independent exploitation mavens Crown International Pictures, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if schlock-impresario John Waters shared my appreciation for the luxuriously upholstered Lyn Statten's arch theatricality! It was interesting to discover that co-writer Jack Kevan also created the bodacious special FX for 50s psychotronic classic 'The Monster of Piedras Blancas'. 'The Seventh Commandment' is part of the 6-Film Something Weird - 'Weird-Noir' collection, so that might suggest just how righteous this title is!

 

 

 

 

'El barón del terror' (1962) - Chano Urueta.

Chano Urueta's hallucinatory, dazzlingly bonkers, spectacularly skewed Mexican horror freakshow excitingly blends the wonderfully incongruent themes of lurid Gothic melodrama with gonzoid, brain-boggling Sci-fi tropes! A supposed heretic, Baron Vitelius d'Estera (Abel Salazar) is grimly condemned to a fiery death by members of the no less bloodthirsty inquisition. As the diabolically durable 'El Baron' eerily fails to perish in the sanctifying inferno, d'Estera furiously prophesizes his supernatural return in 300 years to wreak a disgusting cerebellum sucking revenge! 

Remaining frustratingly true to his profane word, the batso Baron proceeds to gruesomely consume the delicate think sponges belonging to the descendents of those religious rapscallions who put him to death 300 years before! Chano Urueta's demonically delirious 'El Baron del Terror' is not only an adrenalized shot of unadulterated B-Movie bananas, it also works admirably as a compellingly off-kilter 60s bone-chiller! This wonderfully warped Mexican horror film's exhilarating lack of subtlety is matched by its disarming eccentricity! The aristocratic, darkly charismatic, Abel Salazar memorably makes for a fascinatingly fiendish villain who can shockingly transform himself into a vile-looking, monstrously malevolent, degenerately brain sucking demon! El barón del terror remains wickedly wrong-headed, consistently creepy, jaw-droppingly delirious Drive-In entertainment from the darkest, iconoclastic realms south of the B-Movie Border. 

 

 

 

'Funeral Home' (1980) - William Fruet.

The much undervalued genre director, William Fruet has an enviable C.V of magnificently entertaining midnight movies, Spasms, Death Weekend, Baker County U.S.A., and his off-beat rustic 80s shocker 'Funeral Home' is well worth digging up! As fear-master Fruet ominously orchestrates a particularly fine, slow-burning, shadow-steeped, skin-prickingly creepy Gothic horror, successfully utilizing that ubiquitous, age-old terror trope of 'There's something in the cellar!!!!. 

A surprisingly entertaining, low budget fright flick that makes especially good use of its primary location, the inhospitable,  historically grim, drearily dilapidated, effortlessly spooky guest house that once functioned as the local funeral home/mortuary. Needless to say, one luridly lingering, deliciously deranged occupant morbidly labours under the macabre impression that absolutely nothing has changed! More 'Psycho' than 'Motel Hell', since it suggestively focuses on evoking unsettling, atmospheric chills rather than gory splatter! That being said, the bravura ending is monumentally macabre, guaranteed to put a terror-tingle into the most resolute spine! Maestro William Fruet's fabulously fear-flocked 'Funeral Home' remains one of the more credible examples of early 80s US indie horror, and its stridently shuddersome qualities remain appealingly undimmed! Would make a great double-kill with 'The Unseen' (1980).

''Funeral Home'...Not an auspicious place to visit...but a perfect place to die...as the mortician is always IN-sane!!!! - Weirdlingwolf Dirty Kunst Video.