Sadistic Hypnotist, The (1969)

... aka: Wanda (The Sadistic Hypnotist)

Directed by:

Greg Corarito

After peering in a store window and envisioning figurines of nude women are actual nude women, a man in sunglasses (played by the director himself) dips into an adult theater to watch a double feature. First up is something about the "Bare-Fax Nudist Camp," featuring a voyeur stalking some young women back to their camp and watching them lounge around as nature intended (with strategically placed newspapers, magazines, towels and hats covering their fronts and some of the more embarrassed ladies hilariously covering up their own faces!) through a knothole in the fence. A monotone female announcer then comes on to introduce the next feature: "Perverted Films has a treat in store for you. That six foot two inch love goddess Miss Dikey Dikeman is the star of our feature presentation. I'm sure you'll find it very hypnotic" and a title card for "Miss Dikey Dikeman and Her Friends???" (!!) appears on screen.

While driving down a secluded country road, Sylvester ("Dick Dangerfield" / Richard Compton) is in an off-screen car accident but gets "rescued" by "tall, harsh-looking brunette" Wanda (the almost freakishly long-legged Katharine Shubeck) and "rather sweet-looking blonde" Greta (Janine Sweet), who take him back to their home. The man, falling in and out of consciousness, also provides hilarious, double entendre-filled narration which includes lines like "a blinding shaft of sunlight brought an enormous mansion into view!" and "the throbbing in my head proved too much and, with a final attempt to rise, I gave in." Sylvester also recalls being taken into an S&M-themed bedroom ("I must admit, there were many leather objects") and that he was "vaguely aware of female hands taking my clothes off."

Fifteen hours later, Sylvester awakens from his stupor, but weakened and with a severe concussion. He's told that he crashed into a sand dune and that his car will be ready sometime soon so he can leave, but that all turns out to be a ruse. Queen Bee Wanda has no intentions of letting him go and makes him the unwilling submissive in her bondage games. He's tied down to a bed and repeatedly smacked with a riding crop, is forced to go on long walks with heavy iron shackles attached to his ankles and is almost drowned in the swimming pool. Greta, who is much more sympathetic than Wanda, realizes this guy isn't like most of the others they've kidnapped: He actually seems to be enjoying most of this!

Wanda leads an all-female cult, which does not have any defined purpose aside from them all taking off their clothes a lot. Half a dozen other ladies swing by for a visit and start out with a game of "Rip It Off," which finds them all stripping off their bikinis in the swimming pool. Later that evening, Wanda uses her hypnotic powers to make a door-to-door cosmetics saleslady (Sheri Jackson) strip down to lingerie and perform a wild go-go dance for her and her pals at their lingerie slumber party. Wanda then uses her powers to make one of her girls take her top off, makes another envision she's an invincible karate master (!) and then turns to the short-haired Zelda and says, "Even though you're a lesssssbian, let's try this. You know, forget about that... You're really a nymphomaniiiiiiaaaac!" She then sends Zelda to the bedroom to ravish a tied-up Sylvester, who screams "Lady, you don't understand! I'm a Republican!" in protest.

But the fun and games can't last forever, can they? A radio announcer comes on and proclaims: "Just minutes ago, a maniac escaped from the state funny farm! The sadistic rapist is mentally demented! He is complete unbalanced! He cannot control his emotions, especially when he is near attractive females! Be on the lookout for this man!" The escapee, Jack Strange (Daryl Colinot), shows up at the home wearing a white coat that reads "State Fun-ee Farm" on the back, lest we get confused about who he is. He first raids their liquor cabinet and makes himself a drink. Then he goes through their record collection, stopping in disgust when he finds Dylan and Sarah Vaughan albums. Finally, after going through a trunk filled with S&M toys, he makes his presence known by leaping out and vicious whipping all of the ladies. The women are then all tied up and subjected to more whipping and rape, plus hallucinogenic drugging.

Under the condition he won't refer to him as insane, Jack unties Sylvester and he ends up assisting him in terrorizing and abusing the ladies for revenge. A drug and alcohol fiend, Jack discovers a hidden stash of LSD (in a large black bottled labeled "LSD" no less!), which results in a long trip out sequence filled with flashing red and green lights, someone peaking through a glass pot of boiling water, nude body painting, strange psychedelic garage rock noise and rapid fire editing. The "maniac" then turns to Sylvester and asks, "If you had a choice of these beavers, which one would you take?" and promises they're "gonna wear them out, daddy-o!" However, the ladies eventually regain control and there's a twist at the end involving the porn theater patron.

I was actually pretty impressed with the across-the-board technical incompetence on display in this pseudo self aware trash! It's ineptly directed, written (with awkward and clearly improvised dialogue), shot (with lots of boring medium and long takes, blurry shots and shadows of the camera operator), lit and edited (by Gary Graver, no less). The sound, with a generic intrusive music score constantly drowning out the already muffled dialogue, is equally awful. And then there's the cast. There's not a convincing performance in this entire film and it's clear no one - in front of or behind the camera - is taking a minute of this seriously. Lines are flubbed, people look right at the camera and laugh and everyone's basically just goofing off the entire time. The T&A is wall-to-wall for the duration so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get your fill here.

Though the two female leads are completely unknown (this is the only known credit for either), some of the supporting females are played by late 60s / early 70s skin flick regulars like Lynn Harris (The Sexcapades of Don Diego) and Vincene Wallace (Russ Meyer's Vixen!). The male lead went on to a prolific career as a TV director and was married to actress Veronica Cartwright for 25 years until his death in 2007.

Director / writer Corarito made a few other films of this stripe: Diamond Stud (1970), the X-rated Hard on the Trail (1972), featuring Lash La Rue, and Delinquent School Girls (1975), which also featured young women terrorized by mental home escapees. This film is supposedly also based on his "novel" of the same name, though there's no evidence that book was ever published. Robert Vincent O'Neil, who went on to direct the underrated THE PSYCHO LOVER (1970) and the popular and profitable 80s exploitation film Angel (1983) as well its first sequel, Avenging Angel (1985), was one of the producers.

Not surprisingly, being right up their alley and all, this was a Something Weird acquisition and they issued both a standalone VHS release in 1992, followed by a DVD release in 2004, which pairs it up with Dr. Sex (1964).

★1/2

In the Cold of the Night (1990)

... aka: Blue Passion

... aka: Brividi nella notte (Chills in the Night)

... aka: Dessein meurtrier (Murderous Design)

... aka: Heißkalte Nächte (Hot Cold Nights)

... aka: Hyytävä yö (A Chilling Night)

... aka: I den iskalla natten (In the Icy Night)

... aka: Jéghideg éjszaka, forró lány (Hot Girl in the Ice Cold Night)

Directed by:

Nico Mastorakis

The two most important films when it comes to establishing the late night erotic thriller (which started dominating late night cable TV and video stores in the early 90s) were Fatal Attraction (1987) and Basic Instinct (1992), but some of the more interesting films in this category - like this one - were made in between those two benchmark films. The opening few scenes are dripping with 80s style, almost hilariously so, and I mean that in a complementary way, of course! We get a bikini modeling session utilizing neon, fog and spinning lights in a beach ball motif, a bad-joke-riddled sex scene on a glowing waterbed (?!) and a heavily stylized nightmare sequence shot using some kind of strange pixilation / thermography + fish eyed lens effect. That's all just a little taste of the life of muscular, blonde-haired, blue-eyed California stud fashion photographer cum pineapple pizza enthusiast Scott Bruin (Jeff Lester). Our nightmare-plagued Ken Doll is having terrifying visions of murdering a mysterious brunette over and over and over again. While the methods of murder always change, the location and the victim always stay the same. 

Scott's gotten to the point of having to have his best bud Phil (Brian Thompson), a Venice Beach bodybuilder, come over to make sure he stays in bed and isn't actually getting up in the middle of the night and harming anyone, plus visiting shrink Dr. Frieberg (David Soul), who basically tells him that dreams, regardless of how bad they may be, are still just dreams at the end of the day. Scott feels otherwise.

Because his murderous visions are so detailed and vivid, and feel so real, Scott begins to suspect the girl from his nightmares is real and that perhaps he's somehow been able to "intercept" a real killer's thoughts or intentions. He also believes a terrible motorcycle accident he had not long ago, that left him in intensive care for five weeks, may have triggered something in his brain and given him ESP abilities. His buddy brushes off his theory ("I think you and Brian De Palma should get together!") but things only seem to worsen. In the middle of a photo session, a fully-awake Scott has another of his disturbing visions, which up until now have only occurred during his sleep. Returning to the hospital, Scott's EKG results come back fine, so his psychiatrist prescribes him muscle relaxers and sends him on his way.

Just by chance (...or is it?), Scott happens to spot a man on the beach wearing a hand-painted t-shirt with a drawing of the exact woman he's been dreaming about. That leads to artist Rudy's (John Beck) beachfront clothing shop. Rudy claims to have no clue who the woman is, so Scott leaves his card just in case he remembers.

The following morning, after Scott's "date" with model Lena (Shannon Tweed), whom he's kinda-sorta seeing (it's mostly just sexual), the mystery dream woman shows up at his front door. She introduces herself as Kimberly Shawn (Adrianne Sachs, who was Miss Brazil in 1986) and she's wondering why he's been inquiring about her. Kimberly claims that Rudy is her overly-protective ex-husband. Scott doesn't divulge where he really knows her from and instead insists he saw her image and simply wanted to use her as a model. The two flirt over coffee, have lunch with her bird-fearing mother, Clara (played by Tippi Hedren... nyuk nyuk nyuk, get it?), and, before he knows it, she's getting into a black BMW with an unknown man and taking off. He will see her again, however, as she's left her motorcycle behind at his place.

Kimberly shows up to get her bike and invites Scott back to a luxurious 12 million dollar mansion she claims to be housesitting for a friend. It's the same place he's been dreaming about. Not deterred by any of that, Scott and Kimberly engage in an extended "foreplay" session that involves ludicrous yet hilarious "seductive" dialogue exchanges ("Maybe it's the sauce... maybe it's just the way I taste."), lingering sips of fine wine and sucking caviar off each other's fingers. As a saxophone obnoxiously blares on the soundtrack, the two get it on in the shower and then move to the bed, where he dumps a heart-shaped glass bowl full of marbles (!?!) all over her chest.

Scott begins basically living at the home, and the two fall deeper and deeper in love, yet his nightmares about killing her still haven't stopped. Sometimes he even wakes up in the process of actually strangling her. Fearing her life may be in danger, he gives her a gun and tells her to just shoot him if it ever happens again. Scott is also growing increasingly paranoid about Kimberly herself. He follows her to "work" and she ends up going to a mansion of whoever it is that owns that black BMW. Is she continuing her relationship with the man behind his back? And what role does Marc Singer's sinister tech guru (introduced at the eleventh hour) play in all of this?

Pilfering heavily from Hitchcock and (most especially) the already name-dropped De Palma, this throws mystery, noir, sci-fi, romance and conspiratorial thriller elements in a blender, adds a dash of Sex, Lies and Laserdisc, a pinch of Cronenberg and a splash of any grainy lo-fi found footage horror movie of your choice, and then purees it all into some incomprehensible clump of something or other. Through it all, one entirely accidental yet nonetheless fascinating question emerges: Just how far can shallow aesthetic pleasures go to ensure our filmgoing enjoyment?

Mastorakis backs himself in a corner with a self-aware yet muddled screenplay (co-written by Fred C. Perry) but lays on the pretty imagery so thick and heavy that he comes pretty damn close to eye candy-ing his way out of it. The luxury gated mansions where most of the film takes place, with their large swimming pools, expensive décor, flowing curtains, huge columns and neon accouterments, all look ready for a featured spread in Architectural Digest. And they all sit in front of beautiful, perfectly manicured lawns in front of beautiful, shimmering beaches in front of beautiful, picturesque sunsets. The two leads (who aren't so good at the acting part of their jobs, but you'll have that) and the models who frequent the studio are all tanned, toned, waxed, plucked, gelled, sprayed, coiffed and spit-shined to Hollywood perfection. And the whole movie is gorgeously photographed by Andreas Bellis, with terrific shot compositions and excellent lighting schemes used throughout. There's barely a moment that goes by where your eyes aren't transfixed by something.

For some reason, there are a ton of mostly-unsubtle film references in here. Friday the 13th and Jagged Edge are used as punchlines, and when Scott sits down to watch a couple of movies, he naturally throws on two earlier Mastorakis films; The Wind (1986) and Terminal Exposure (1987), and we get to see clips from each.

All of the name value stars on the payroll are only around briefly. Hedren and Beck have just one scene apiece, Soul has two (which is basically just one sitting-behind-a-desk scene split into two with a costume change) and Singer shows up at the very end looking goofy and confused (can't really blame him, though). Thompson, who was married to the director's daughter, Isabelle Mastorakis (also the executive producer), at the time, has a bit more screen time, as does Tweed, who plays a potentially interesting, free-spirited character but is underutilized. The cast also includes prolific character actor Jack Kehler (who just passed away a few weeks ago) as a wino, Shelley Michelle (a body double frequently used by Hollywood stars like Julia Roberts and Kim Basinger) and Melinda Armstrong as models, an uncredited Melissa Moore, who can be spotted as an extra during a party scene, and the director in a cameo.

Here in the U.S., this was unfairly slapped with an X rating despite not being all that sexually graphic and containing very little full nudity (there's quite a bit of T&A though) or violence. That was later converted over to an NC-17. The original Republic Pictures VHS was released in both R and NC-17 versions, with only one minute of footage missing from the former. Both cuts are nearly 2 hours long! In 2019, Vinegar Syndrome released an uncut, restored version to Blu-ray, which looks fantastic.

★★1/2