Industrial Terror: Abby

The film collection at the J.B. Speed Art Museum is named in honor of scrappy Louisville exploitation filmmaker William Girdler, but it does not include any of his films. Arguably, a good print of his “Blaxploitation Exorcist” would be a rarity worth curating. Caught up in a studio copyright infringement case, it has only circulated in rather distressed formats. Nevertheless, Anthology Film Archives will make the best of what is available when they screen Girdler’s Abby as part of the Industrial Terror film series.

Since someone must necessarily get possessed, it makes sense that it would be Abby Williams, a sunny, upbeat marriage counselor, who happens to be the wife and daughter-in-law of ministers. Bishop Garnet Williams is a man of the cloth to be reckoned with, but he inadvertently causes all the trouble when he accidentally frees a spirit claiming to be Eshu, the demigod of lust, during a research trip to Nigeria. Eshu wastes no time possessing Abby Williams, turning her into a wanton harlot who constantly belittles her husband’s masculinity. Fortunately, her brother Cass Potter is a cop who can cover for the Williamses when she gets violent, but they will need the Bishop to perform the E word.

Rather than try to match the profound dread of Friedkin’s classic, Abby picks up on the sucking-you-know-what-you-know-where demonic dirty talk and runs with it. There is no question Eshu is evil and corrupting, but it saves on the special effects and gets Williams into swinging after hours clubs.

Actually, the mumbo jumbo backstory is not bad, particularly when the commanding William Marshall tells it. Cult famous as Blackula, Dr. Richard Daystrom in “The Ultimate Computer” episode of the original Star Trek, and at least half a dozen stage and television productions of Othello, Marshall has the authority and presence we need in a modern day Van Helsing.

Much like the film it admittedly ripped off, Abby finds its salvation in Christian faith. In a way, the Bishop sort of fortifies his Christianity with a little West African spirituality, but when you are going into an exorcism, you had better be loaded for bear. The enterprising Girdler (who tragically died at the youthful age of thirty while scouting what would have been his tenth feature) keeps it zipping along quite energetically, emphasizing funky attitude over gore. It is a lot of fun, even with beater prints, so it should be a real blast with an appreciatively rowdy audience. Recommended for fans of Blaxploitation, exploitation, and horror films, Abby screens tomorrow (10/25), Wednesday (10/29), and Halloween Friday (10/31) at Anthology Film Archives, as part of the Industrial Terror series.

Industrial Terror: Blood Feast

He evolved from a purveyor of nudie cuties into the “Godfather of Gore,” eventually transforming into an internet marketing guru. Herschell Gordon Lewis always had a good sense of where a buck could be made. Today, we’re here for the gore. Notoriously graphic in its day (be forewarned, a cow’s tongue will stand-in for the human article), Lewis’s groundbreaking Blood Feast screens as part of the Anthology Film Archives’ Industrial Terror film series (not safe for lunch trailer here).

Someone is killing and dismembering the young women of Miami. That would be Fuad Ramses, an Egyptian caterer, who is stocking up for the cannibalistic smorgasbord that will be the centerpiece of the resurrection ritual for his mistress, the goddess Ishtar. He is a sweaty, club-footed sad sack (bizarrely, he looks a little like Torgo in Manos: the Hands of Fate and has vaguely similar theme music), but Ramses is still lethal enough to keep Det. Pete Thornton working overtime. Fortunately, the copper can rely on the patience and understanding of his new girlfriend Suzette Fremont, whom he met through their weekly Egyptian Studies lecture series. They are both crazy about Egyptian culture. So much so, Fremont’s mother seeks out Ramses to cater a party in Suzette’s honor.

There is really no point in pedantically dissecting the narrative inconsistencies of Blood Feast. The whole point was the splattering gore. Yet, it is a strangely chipper film given the carnage it unleashes. While Carnival of Souls and Night of the Living Dead transcended their budget constraints, Feast really looks like it was made on the cheap and its ensemble is hardly professional grade, but it accomplishes everything Lewis set out to do, so there you go.

Without question, the best known cast-member is former Playboy Playmate Connie Mason. Ordinarily, the Playmate thespian does not inspire much confidence, but she is far from the worst offender when it comes to awkward line readings—far, far from the worst. You could even argue she adds an upbeat, appealing presence, but that is admittedly grading on a steep curve.

By today’s standards, the Godfather’s gore looks quite amateurish, but we had to start somewhere. This is a pretty bad film according to just about any rational criteria, but it has been truly influential, paving the way for every explicit horror film that followed. You have to laugh at it, but it is way too much for a show like MST3K to handle. Given Lewis’s cult following, any serious horror film cineaste will have to deal with it at some point, so the Industrial Terror film series is probably the perfect venue to bite the bullet. It screens with Carving Magic, a short Lewis whipped up for Swift & Co. teaching the proper technique for carving meat. That’s right, meat carving. What more needs to be said? For exploitation fans in need of some sleaze, they screen together this Friday (10/24) and Monday (10/27) at Anthology Film Archives.

Industrial Terror: Carnival of Souls

It must be the only film selected for both the Criterion Collection and the Rifftrax treatment. Rightly or wrongly, it was largely ignored when first released and would be the only feature narrative helmed by its producer-director. Yet, Herk Harvey remained a prolific filmmaker, releasing scores of educational shorts through his Kansas-based Centron Corporation. Like Harvey, many future horror auteurs honed their craft and bided their time making educational and industrial films that often strangely foreshadow their macabre work to come. Fittingly, Harvey’s Carnival of Souls with the Centron short None for the Road screen together during Anthology Film Archive’s before-and-after film series, Industrial Terror.

When reluctant street racing passenger Mary Henry manages to walk away from a fatal accident, it ought to be an occasion for some soul searching. However, she seems determined not to process it. Always temperamentally aloof, she simply proceeds with her prior plans, accepting a church organist position in Utah arranged by the owner of the local pipe organ factory. In her new town, Henry tries her best to cut herself off from social contact, even though she dearly needs an emotional support system.

Beginning during her lonely drive into town, Henry has been haunted by visions of a ghoulish man. Perhaps even more troubling, she experiences episodes of time-stoppage, during which the townspeople around appear oblivious to her freaked-out presence. Spurning offers of help from the kindly priest and concerned Dr. Samuels, Henry becomes increasingly obsessed with the darkly picturesque abandoned carnival outside of town.

That carnival setting is definitely creepy, but most of Harvey’s film is a rather Edward Hopper-esque take on the horror movie genre. There is no gore at all, but the lighting and shadows are all kinds of eerie. Refreshingly, this is the sort of film where priests and factory owners are good people. Unfortunately for Henry, there is also very real supernatural business afoot.

Granted, some of the line readings are a little stilted, but Harvey’s visual style is remarkably accomplished, particularly his smooth jump-cut transitions. He patiently builds an atmosphere of foreboding, rather than resorting to sudden shock scares, perfectly supported and emphasized by Gene Moore’s unnerving organ score.

The performance of method-trained Candace Hilligoss (who bears some resemblance to Judith O’Dea in Romero’s original Night of the Living, another Industrial Terror selection) is almost too inwardly focused for the demands of the genre, but she is certainly convincingly brittle and standoffish. While the supporting ensemble is admittedly all over the place, Stan Levitt provides a solid anchor as Dr. Samuels and Harvey himself is effectively ghastly as the ashen apparition man.

Carnival will have its critical champions and detractors, but you can see its influence in scores of films, such as Adrian Lyne’s Jacob’s Ladder. It is a strong example of the greater efficacy of suggestiveness rather than splatter in horror movies. Thematically, it is also a good fit with None for the Road, in which a research scientist gets lab mice hammered and tries to balance them on metal dowels, while telling kids if they are going to drink and drive, get so blitzed the Highway Patrol is guaranteed to pull them over. Science is hardcore. Carnival of Souls is also weirdly potent stuff. Highly recommended, it screens this Friday (10/24) and next Tuesday (10/28) as part of Industrial Terror at Anthology Film Archives.