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severinBlackenstein

Blackenstein

Director-William A. Levey

Cast-John Hart, Ivory Stone, Joe De Sue

Country of Origin-U.S.

Review Format: Blu-ray


Discs- 1


Distributor-  Severin

Reviewer- Bobby Morgan

Date- 5/26/2017

The Film: 2/5

 

Having been reduced to a limbless torso after an unfortunate encounter with a landmine while in Vietnam, former soldier Eddie Turner (Joe De Sue) puts his life in the hands of mad scientist Dr. Stein (former Lone Ranger performer John Hart) and becomes the monstrous BLACKENSTEIN in this notorious Z-grade blaxploitation monster flick from William A. Levey, the director of Skatetown, U.S.A. and Hellgate, and criminal attorney and one-time writer/producer Frank R. Saletri, whose filmmaking ambitions were tragically cut short by a nasty case of suddenly being murdered.

 

Eddie undergoes the procedure at the behest of his fiancée Dr. Winifred Walker (Ivory Stone), who just recently became Dr. Stein’s assistant. When the surgery is sabotaged by Stein’s jealous servant Malcomb (Roosevelt Jackson), Eddie is transformed into a lumbering beast possessing of massive strength, murderous rage, and a forehead on which you could project an IMAX movie. He escapes Stein’s lab to maim, strangle, and rip apart a variety of nameless victims whose combined I.Q. is lower than that of dried phlegm. Mostly they perish in silhouette or off-camera, but now and then Levey will toss in a hilarious arm tearing or stuff some pig intestines inside a corpse and call it a day.

 

Severin Films resurrects this inexplicable cult favorite from the Xenon Pictures library that also contains the likes of Melvin Van Peebles’ immortal underground black cinema classic Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song and Ralph Bakshi’s live-action/animated masterwork Coonskin (as well as all of the Dolemite movies) for its Region A Blu-ray debut. As much a throwback to the legendary Universal horror films of the 30’s and 40’s as a cheaply-produced attempt to capitalize on the then-thriving blaxploitation feature scene, Blackenstein is certainly something to behold in 2017.

 

As if the makers of Blackenstein didn’t think modern audiences would make the connection on their own, they went ahead and slapped “The Black Frankenstein” on the title card. They may have wanted this to be a delightful throwback to the golden age of horror cinema, but the final product ended up being a plodding and intermittently gory slice of schlock that can only hold the viewer’s attention by having its disposable supporting cast of cannon fodder victims roll ahead in bargain basement butcher shop splatter. The black Frankenstein? No, more like the black Beast of Yucca Flats, sans cheesy Coleman Francis narration of course.

 

The actors all perform their parts like they were chasing Quaaludes with vodka before the cameras rolled, complete with line readings that have the woozy sensation of lullabies played at the lowest speed imaginable. It takes a while for Blackenstein to get into action, and when it does happen, what we get is hardly worth the wait. Since the main story of a monster on a murderous rampage wasn’t enough to sustain a 78-minute running time, Levey had to pad things out with extraneous characters, subplots that go nowhere, and nightclub musical performances that have absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the threadbare narrative.

 

At least it’s professionally photographed by the skilled cinematographer Robert Carmico, who would later shoot Tobe Hooper’s lurid killer alligator flick Eaten Alive and the monumentally crappy TV-movie Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park, and the overdramatic music score by Cardella Di Milo (who also played the nightclub singer) and Lou Frohman (The Slime People) is often employed at inappropriate moments throughout the movie to give it an unintentionally absurd that thankfully adds to what little entertainment value Blackenstein actually has.

 

Audio/Video: 3.5/5

 

Severin presents Blackenstein in two versions on this Blu-ray – the original theatrical cut (78 minutes) and a longer cut prepared for its earlier home video releases (87 minutes). The home video version was reconstructed using the high-definition master of the theatrical cut and additional footage sourced from a one-inch master tape since actual film elements could not be located. Due to the degraded quality of the inserts in the video release cut, I’m applying my A/V score to the theatrical cut only and considering the other edit a bonus feature.

 

Presented in the 1.78:1 widescreen aspect ratio, Blackenstein’s transfer isn’t reference quality HD, but for a low-budget horror flick made in the early 70’s, it ain’t a loser either. The film wasn’t given a full-on restoration, thus leaving behind a few noticeable traces of print damage, but the vibrant color spectrum that favors garish reds and oranges and visible black levels during the night scenes is a nice little treat for the eyes, while grain appears to be balanced and consistent. Close-up shots reveal a sharp improvement in facial details and the 1080p resolution can’t help but expose the cut-rate set design’s flaws, but that was inevitable.

 

The English DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 soundtrack is the default option when you play the main feature, and as a presentation of the original mono sound mix, it pleasingly lacks in distortion and unstable volume. Dialogue occasionally sounds tinny, but that could easily be chalked up to the film’s low-budget origins, and it never becomes a problem for the viewer. Severin has also thrown in an English Dolby Digital 2.0 track, as well as English subtitles (but only for the theatrical cut).

 

Extras: 3/5

 

Most of the supplements produced for this Blu-ray focus on the life and morbid legacy of writer/producer Frank R. Saletri, beginning with the featurette “Monster Kid” (19 minutes) in which Saletri’s sister June Kirk talks about their upbringing, love of the old monster movies, her brother’s unproduced projects, his unsolved homicide, and more. Saletri’s murder is also covered in an archival news segment (6 minutes) broadcast nearly a year after it happened. “Producers/Directors/Actors Ken Osbourne and Robert Dix Remember Writer/Producer Frank R. Saletri” (7 minutes) was taken from an upcoming Severin Films documentary about exploitation legend Al Adamson and features a pair of Saletri’s past collaborators offering warm recollections of the man. “Bill Created Blackenstein” (9 minutes) is an audio interview with creature designer Bill Munns, illustrated with behind-the-scenes photos and clips from the film. Lastly, we have the theatrical trailer (3 minutes).

 

Overall: 3/5

 

It takes a special kind of movie to suck the fun out of cheap thrills. Such a movie is Blackenstein, and its love of the mad scientist laboratory sets and lumbering monsters of slick studio features and penny-pinching Poverty Row flicks doesn’t come to compensating for what it lacks in memorable characters and genuine horror. The movie has a fan base that I’m sure will be quite satisfied with Severin Films’ excellent Blu-ray release, sure to be the definitive word on this frustrating cult classic wannabe.