Hercules in the Haunted World/Ercole al centro della Terra (1961)

‘Perhaps he is in his room far underground, which even a servant is not allowed to enter.’

Hercules returns home from his labours to claim a princess for his bride. However, he finds that she has been bewitched and the kingdom under threat from dark forces. The throne has been assumed by her uncle, who explains that he must travel to Hades to obtain a cure for her and undo the curse that afflicts the land…

Despite being a fairly terrible film, ‘Hercules’ (1957) had been a world-wide smash and kick-started a whole wave of Italian muscleman movies that were dubbed and shown in American theatres over the next decade. Some stuck pretty near to the formula of the first film; a grab-bag of mythological bits and pieces glued together by tatty SFX, terrible dubbing and a lead actor with the charisma of a fence post. Others just left out the mythology entirely and kept everything else. But there’s always one exception to the rule. In this case: ‘Hercules In The Haunted World’ (1961).

Director Mario Bava was a cinematographer and visual stylist, who had worked previously in the ‘sword and sandal’ genre and was coming off his first solo directorial gig; gothic horror classic ‘Black Sunday’ (1960) with Barbara Steele. He also had a family connection to the character and the story: his father, Eugenio, had worked on the design of Guido Brignone’s ‘Maciste In Hell’ (1925), the silent classic that featured the original Italian ‘Hercules’ character taking a trip to the land of the dead. Itno surprise, then, that Bava gets a joint story and screenplay credit with three other writers. Also taking further duty as his own cinematographer, this gave Bava considerable creative control of the film, and he was able to tailor it to his particular strengths and sensibilities.

‘What kind of party did you say this was?’

Hercules (Reg Park) and Theseus (George Ardisson) are enjoying a little rest and relaxation after running their latest errand for the Gods. For Ardisson this means a tumble in an outdoor hayloft with dark-haired beauty Jocasta (Ely Drago), but Park isn’t playing around; he’s on his way back to home to wed the gorgeous Princess Deianira (Leonora Ruffo). But all is not well in the kingdom. Without warning, they are attacked by a group of assassins. Park shrugs them off by throwing a wagon at them, and they run for the hills when they realise how they’re messing with. This opening scene helps to establish two important things. Firstly, there’s a healthy dose of humour in the film, something often lacking in the big man’s exploits on the big screen. Secondly, that Park’s default method of solving a problem is to throw something big at it. A wagon here, but it’s usually a rock.

When Park reaches the city, he finds that his old friend the King has passed away, but Ruffo has not assumed the throne. That position is in the hands of her uncle, Lico (Christopher Lee). He’s reluctantly assumed the responsibility because she is confused and bewildered, seemingly bewitched. Lee convinces Park that the only way he can sort things out is travel to the underworld and obtain a magic stone which will undo the spell. Unfortunately, the big lummox falls for it, even though the audience knows only too well that Lee is the bad guy here. After all, we saw him in his underground lair earlier when he summoned Ruffo from where she had been sleeping in what looks suspiciously like a coffin! She rises as if on a hinge in what was almost certainly a nod to Max Schreck’s appearance in the hold of the ship in F W Murnau’s iconic ‘Nosferatu’ (1922).

🎵 Bring Your Daughter to the Slaughter…🎶

Park and Ardisson depart on their journey, getting saddled with comedy relief Telemachus (Franco Giacobini) on the way. Before they can enter Hades, though, they need to grab the golden apple of the Hesperides and tangle with the rock monster, Procrustes. And this is where Bava’s imagination and visual mastery really take over. Working with production designer Franco Lolli, he conjures up a striking vision of the underworld with a painter’s eye for detail and blending colour. Also, there’s a real sense of solidity to the sets which helps the atmosphere no end and is such a welcome change from the smooth fakery of CGI. Sure, some of the SFX have dated poorly (particularly the rock monster!) but, on the other hand, scenes where the dead rise from their tombs and battle Park are still striking and impressive today.

It’s all the more remarkable when you discover the budgetary constraints that Bava was working under. The palace set was a small stage with the director creating a sense of scale with just four pillars that he regularly moved around and sometimes resprayed. Occasionally, he was able to add a fifth with camera trickery! Similarly, one door stands in for every entrance that you see, Bava shooting with multiple angles and setups to create the illusion of a vast complex of rooms and chambers. Unless it’s pointed out, you would never notice. Bava also manages to evoke a sense of dread with these gloomy interiors that a lesser director would probably have neglected.

‘Yo, she-bitch! Let’s go! ‘

On the other side of the scale is the story, which is nothing special and bears some evidence of late rewrites and revisions. While in the underworld, Ardisson falls in love with the goddess Persephone (Meiazotide in the original Italian cut). She’s played by Evelyn Stewart, billed under her real name of Ida Galli, and it’s interesting to speculate whether her character was a late addition to the film, or whether the part originally had far more screentime. As it is, her presence in certain scenes (or lack of it) doesn’t quite dovetail with the rest of the story’s events. But it’s a minor quibble when you consider the many delicious nods to Lee’s ‘Dracula’ persona. In one memorable moment, his face appears reflected in a pool of blood on the floor; in another, he leans over the unconscious Ruffo and directly into the camera. It’s a lot of fun to see the vampire iconography in a mythological setting and, of course, Lee is as charismatic as ever. Unfortunately, and despite reports to the contrary, he was not invited back to loop any of his dialogue so we are left with voice actors delivering his lines and, although they do a decent job, they can’t compete with his imperious tones.

The film was released in alternate versions in different territories, although the changes were not as significant as made to some of Bava’s other projects, such as ‘Black Sunday’ (1960) and ‘Black Sabbath’ (1960). The UK version was almost identical to the Italian version, although it was released under the title ‘Hercules In the Centre of the Earth’. Stateside, a corny and over-explanatory prologue was added featuring VoiceOver Woman and some repeated footage of the masked Oracle Medea (Gaia Germani) who appears later on. Thankfully, no other significant changes were made. Curiously, cult movie legend Rosalba Neri is credited with appearing in the film, although you’d be hard pressed to spot her! She certainly isn’t playing Helene, Ruffo’s companion, as is often credited. Apparently, in her early career, Neri sometimes sent one of her cousins along to fulfil her contracted acting obligations, so that may have been the case here!

‘Ta-Da!’

This was Park’s second outing as the Greek Demi-god after ‘Hercules Conquers Atlantis/Ercole alla conquista di Atlantide’ (1961) and it’s interesting to note the changes that Bava chose to make to the character. It’s almost as if this acts as a kind of prequel. In the earlier film, the big man was already married to the Princess Deianira (played by a different actress), and the two had an impetuous young man for a son. The character was also far more laidback and a little world-weary in his attitudes. Bava’s version is more of a young blade; quick to arms and action, although retaining the good-natured charisma that made Park probably the screen’s finest Hercules. Off the screen, he was a natural athlete and sportsman who, in later years, became a mentor to the young Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Ruffo had already played the Princess Deianira in an earlier version of the legend; the hopeless (but hilarious) ‘La vendetta di Ercole/Goliath and the Dragon’ (1960) with Mark Forest. She also went onto appear in another bad movie gem, the space opera trash fire of ‘2+5: Missione Hydra’ (1968). Ardisson signed on with Bava again for Viking adventure ‘Erik The Conquerer’ (1961). Patched-up horror ‘Katarsis’ (1963) with Lee followed, before a leading role in the far more effective chiller ‘The Long Hair of Death’ (1964). He returned to the mythological arena in the TV film ‘Hercules and the Princess of Troy’ (1965) and went onto grace several Eurospy and Giallo films as well as ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’ (1977) cash-in ‘The Eyes Behind the Stars’ (1978).

A visual feast from a master filmmaker that has a few hokey aspects when viewed today, but otherwise remains a remarkably entertaining experience and a classic of its kind.

(This is a revised and expanded version of a post originally published on 15th January, 2015)

 

 

Goliath and the Dragon/Le Vendetta di Ercole (1960)

‘You don’t depend on your brains; you’re just a mass of fat and muscle.’

Goliath, King of Thebes, is forced to quest for a sacred blood diamond, stolen by rival King Eurystheus and hidden in an underground cave system filled with monsters. Believing Goliath will not survive the quest, Eurystheus plans to invade Thebes and conquer the kingdom. But he has reckoned without Goliath’s superhuman strength…

Oh, my. To fully appreciate the full splendour of this third entry in the Italian ‘Hercules’ cycle, it’s necessary to examine some production information. Yes, I know it’s called ‘Goliath and the Dragon’ (not ‘Hercules and the Dragon’) but, be patient, we’ll get to that.

After the first two Hercules films made him an international star, US muscleman Steve Reeves expanded his range with a vastly different acting challenge; the lead role in ‘Goliath and the Barbarians’ (1959). This film was picked up for US distribution by American International Pictures, and it proved enough of a hit stateside for studio heads James H Nicholson and Samuel Z Arkoff to announce a sequel: ‘Goliath and the Dragon’. But that film never happened, possibly because Reeves sustained a severe shoulder injury during the filming of ‘The Last Days of Pompeii’ (1959), a problem that caused him difficulties for the rest of his life.

With no film in the works, Nicholson and Arkoff needed a movie. What could be better than buying the rights to the third official Italian ‘Hercules’ film: ‘Le Vendetta di Ercole’ (The Vendetta of Hercules) (1960)? It even had Italian-American Mark Forest in the title role and big-screen tough guy, Broderick Crawford, as the villain! It might have been a while since Crawford’s terrific, Oscar-winning turn in ‘All The King’s Men’ (1949) but he was still in the spotlight thanks to long-running hit TV show ‘Highway Patrol.’ So, Nicholson and Arkoff acquired the movie, renamed ‘Hercules’ as ‘Goliath’ and the day was saved! Only it wasn’t. Not really. What happened when the film was re-cut and re-dubbed for US audiences is unrecorded, but the finished article is a complete disaster. And in the best possible way.

The new gym equipment was a little weird…

The film opens with Forest already on his quest, descending into the fiery caves where the diamond is hidden. First, he encounters a three-headed dog chained to the wall. Cerberus is never mentioned by name, and the hound of hell is probably quite grateful for the lack of a shout out, given that this abomination seems to have more than a touch of the mange. It’s also almost entirely immobile, movements restricted to some bobbing of the heads and breathing a little fire. Next, our hero is attacked by a stuntman swinging from wires and dressed in a furry bat costume! Not surprisingly, Forest reclaims the gem shortly afterwards without breaking much of a sweat and can restore it to the head of a huge idol, which falls on him a couple of times later in the film, just for a laugh.

Meanwhile, intrigue abounds in the court of King Eurystheus (Crawford), whose generals won’t join him in the attack on Thebes until they are sure that Forest has taken a permanent, one-way trip to the underworld. And it’s here where things begin to get extremely confusing. Crawford has usurped the throne from the parents of Princess Thea (Federica Ranchi), who seems unaware that they were killed by Crawford’s slimy lieutenant Tindaro (Giancarlo Sbragia). Forest’s brother, Ilius (Sandro Moretti) and Ranchi are in love, but Forest doesn’t approve, because Ranchi’s parents killed his own parents…or something? And is Moretti the brother of Forest or the brother of his wife, Dejanira (Leonora Ruffo)? He seems to be both!

‘You keep grilling me, you’ll catch these hands!’

And then there’s Crawford’s slave, the scheming Alcinoe (Wandisa Guida), whose parents were killed during one of Crawford’s previous campaigns. Is she related to any of the other characters? I really don’t know. The only thing I am sure of is that it was hazardous to your health to be a parent in Ancient Greece! Whether all this confusion was present in the original film or is the result of the writers of the US adaptation being unable to think of any character motivation other than the murder of parents, l guess we’ll never know

From then on, it’s a crazy rollercoaster ride through Forest’s encounters with various idiotic monsters and the machinations of Crawford and Sbragia as they attempt to kill him with schemes of underhanded treachery. These also involve some sneaky manoeuvres by the duplicitous Ismene (Gaby André), because, hey! We really don’t have enough characters already! All this does suggest a much longer original running time, of course, and it often seems that a lot of important story stuff went on before the film began.

Cerberus was overdue his visit to the vet.

But there’s still an awful lot to enjoy here, nevertheless. See Forest wrestle a large man in a silly bear suit to the death! See Forest bring an elephant to its knees while the beast’s handler heroically attempts to hide behind the creature while dressed in bright blue robes! Hear a ridiculously over the top woman’s scream each time we see the occupants of Crawford’s snake pit! Hear an unnamed American voice actor giving us his best Broderick Crawford impression every time the actor delivers one of his lines!

As a matter of fact, this anonymous dubbing artist is pretty good at mimicking Crawford, but it does leave the audience with the inevitable impression that this Greek King would be more at home setting up a bookie joint in the back room of a pool hall in Queens! The confrontation between Forest and the dragon is also predictably laughable, with the great beast portrayed in long shot by some less than stellar stop-motion animation (added by the American studio) and close up by a terrible, life-sized head puppet which can barely move!

‘You are supposed to brush twice a day, you know…’

Director Vittorio Cottafavi was already an experienced pair of hands when it came to the Sword and Sandal genre and stayed on board for the next film in the series: ‘Hercules Conquers Atlantis/Ercole alla Conquista di Atlantide’ (1961). Ruffo skipped that one, before taking the same role she plays here (this time as a blonde) opposite Reg Park in Mario Bava’s ‘Hercules In The Haunted World’ (1962). A few years later, she starred in the wonderfully trashy space opera ‘2+5: Missione Hydra’ (1968). André had already appeared in the very British science-fiction oddity ‘The Strange World of Planet X’ (1958).

Forest went onto more muscleman roles, including another one more official turn as Hercules in ‘Hercules Against The Sons of the Sun’ (1964). He also played the character Maciste half a dozen times in a series of films that eventually ran to almost 30 titles. These were usually retitled as ‘Hercules’ films in the States. This was purely for box office purposes, of course, but there was some justification for it, Maciste being generally considered as an alternative name for the Big H. To add to the confusion, Forest’s first film in the series, ‘Maciste nella valle dei Re’ (1960) was re-christened ‘Son of Samson’ in the States, to cash in on another series of films featuring that character!

She hadn’t expected the audition for ‘Fifty Shades off Grey’ to be so hardcore…

But this film features ‘Goliath’ of course, and the dub track doesn’t let you forget it. It’s almost as if the US editing crew were desperately trying to convince everyone that this wasn’t a ‘Hercules’ movie. It makes for a good drinking game, though, if nothing else. Try taking a shot every time ‘Goliath’ is mentioned by name. You won’t make it to the end of the movie, and you probably won’t remember much about your trip in the ambulance to the hospital.

Regrettably, the butchered US cut is the only version readily available for our viewing pleasure today. Ok, given the goofy monsters and the lack of production value, this was never going to be a classic or, quite probably, even a remotely decent film. But at least the original version might have made a bit more sense.

Sword and sandal cheese at its finest!

Maciste Vs. the Vampire/Maciste Contra Il Vampiro/Goliath and The Vampires (1961)

‘And from a serpent, born in the depths of the kingdom of evil, sprang a monster that nourishes itself on human blood to generate an army of automatons.’

Goliath’s home village is attacked and burnt to the ground by the minions of supernatural sorcerer, Kobrak. All the young women are carried away, including the muscIeman’s betrothed, so he sets out in pursuit on a mission of rescue and vengeance.

The international success of ‘Hercules’ (1958), with Steve Reeves, kick-started a huge wave of Italian muscleman pictures, which only began to lose its momentum toward the middle of the 1960s. The character of mythical strongman ‘Maciste’ had first appeared in silent Italian film ‘Cabiria’ (1914), which told the tale of a slave with superhuman strength who rescues a princess from human sacrifice. Apparently, it was loosely based on a novel by Gustave Flaubert, who’s somewhat more notable work was his debut novel ‘Madame Bovary’ published in 1857.

After taking his first bow, Maciste went from strength to strength, starring in 26 more silent pictures, the last of which came out in 1926. A revival followed in 1960 with ‘Maciste In The Valley Of The Kings’ (1960), which led to another 24 films, of which this example was the second. When these films were released stateside, the character was always renamed; variously as Samson, Goliath, Atlas, Ursus, Ulysses, Colossus, and even Hercules himself (just to confuse things a little more!)

The plot this time around (and on most other occasions if we’re brutally honest) sees our musclebound hero (Gordon Scott) pitching his deltoids against an evil ruler (in this case, one of supernatural origin) who has assumed control of a kingdom and its throne. He must rescue a virtuous, too-trusting blonde (this time it’s Leonora Ruffo) whilst going up against a dark-haired femme fatale with too much eye makeup (usually a Queen of some sort, but in this case the villain‘s right-hand woman Gianna Maria Canale). Of course, she falls for the big lug and his biceps, and makes the ultimate sacrifice to prove her love for him.

Cue Scott fighting with lots of guards in the vi|lain’s zombie army, using only his bare hands and large rocks/pieces of wood, which could probably be more accurately described as polystyrene. Some of these action scenes are borderline inept, with Scott seemingly needing assistance from a bystander to lift a large table during one fight in a tavern. I’m not sure about the trooper’s uniforms either; all those large spikes look to be in definite contravention of applicable Health and Safety regulations. We also get the inevitable dancing girls at court (all gauzy veils and genteel swaying), our heroes getting lost in a sandstorm, and a plucky kid (Pacco Vidouzzi) who can’t stay out of trouble. Pretty much no cliché is left unturned.

Scott was an American who had taken over as ‘Tarzan’ in the MGM series in the early 1950s, but his tenure as ‘King of the Jungle’ had expired with ‘Tarzan the Magnificent’ (1960), so a move to Italian muscleman flicks was almost inevitable. Heroine Ruffo starred in several similar projects, including Mario Bava’s ‘Hercules In The Haunted World'(1961), and was also very fetching in sci-fi ‘guilty pleasure’ train-wreck ‘2+5: Missione Hydra’ (1966). Canale had actually appeared as the Queen of the Amazons in Reeves‘ ‘Hercules’ (1958)  and top-lined Riccardo Freda’s ‘I Vampiri’ (1957), the first horror movie made in Italy since before the Second World War.

Goliath hadn’t quite got a handle on the Pole Vault event…

But spare a thought for Jacques Sernas as the King of the Blue Men (no percussion instruments involved). The year before he’d appeared in Felini’s ‘La Dolce Vita’ (1960) and had been one of the main players in Robert Wise’s historical epic ‘Helen of Troy’ (1955), where he co-starred with Stanley Baker, Brigitte Bardot and Sir Cedric Hardwicke!

Co-director Sergio Corbucci is far better known for spaghetti westerns, particularly Franco Nero’s first appearance as ‘Django’ (1966). He also delivered another well-regarded example of that genre with ‘The Big Silence/The Great Silence’ (1969). Amazingly, this was a ‘Dino De Laurentiis Production’ long before the Italian mogul got his name above the titles of such major international hits as ‘Serpico’ (1973), ‘Death Wish’ (1974), ‘King Kong’ (1976), ‘Flash Gordon’ (1980) and ‘Conan the Barbarian’ (1982), among many, many others.

This is production line sword and sandal nonsense with the added gimmick of sorcery and a little touch of bloodless horror.

2+5 Missione Hydra/Star Pilot (1965)

‘Now you will show us, or you will be sorry as I will kill you.’

Scientists investigating a mysterious incident at a remote location find a buried alien spacecraft. Not only does the alien commander want help with repairs, she also needs some new crew and she doesn’t believe in asking for volunteers…

Italian 1960s space opera that was edited, dubbed and released in the U.S. (as ‘Star Pilot’) to cash in on the ‘Star Wars’ boom in the late 1970s. It’s almost inevitable that some coherence would be lost in those circumstances, but little excuse for the complete chaos of the final third here.

Things begin reasonably enough with the researchers out in the wilds with their Geiger counters and other geegaws. The only flies in the ointment are some enemy secret agents (they’re not Chinese we’re told, just Oriental!) Also Chief Professor Roland Lesaffre has brought along his beautiful young daughter (Leontine May). These scientists and their beautiful young daughters, eh? She’s kooky and a ‘free spirit’, and yes, that’s pretty annoying, but some personality goes a long way with this dull bunch. And she does have very nice legs.

Luckily, conflict with the alien commander (Leonora Ruffo) is just around the corner. She’s a bit of a babe too; all red wig, short skirt and go-go boots and the Prof’s young assistant takes a shine to her at once. Meanwhile, May is making goo-goo eyes at hunky Mario Novelli, who’s too busy concentrating on his spaceship duties to notice. This is all unremarkable, run of the mill stuff, a little dull but acceptable enough, given the time it was made and the probably limited resources the filmmakers had at their disposal. But then the aliens take off for home with our heroes on board and everything cheerfully falls apart.

For a start, I was under the impression that the film was set in the present day, but when they get into orbit, outer space seems awfully crowded. This is thanks to footage from ’Gorath’ (1962) and ‘The Doomsday Machine’ (1972/1977?) We also see some of the cast from the latter, the presence of which may have given rise to the confusion relating to that film’s completion date and release.  Obviously, none of this was in the original Italian version but has been stapled on by the U.S. distributor. Probably with the idea of using the footage in the trailer as well.

Having escaped the Earth forces (not difficult when they’re in a different movie) the aliens communicate with their leader, the ubiquitous Gordon Mitchell, who gets about 30 seconds on a TV screen, this fulfilling his contractual obligation to be in absolutely every Italian movie made at the time.

She noticed that he hadn’t bothered dressing up for their first date.

Damage to the craft means in-flight repairs, which results in a spacewalk for Novelli, which he carries out without the aid of a space helmet or safety cable. But it’s all fine because he has help from an off-screen trampoline. The stars in the background seem be moving about a bit too, which is weird. It’s probably due to some unusual optical space anomaly, rather than because they were lamps hung on wires as some unkind commentators have suggested.

Unable to return home, they stop on a rocky world, where Ruffo and May wear body stockings with feathers covering their naughty bits, and we get a bit of ‘this Earth thing we call kissing.’ Indeed, it’s seems as if personal relationships have developed at quite a pace. But they can’t stay long as they are attacked by some joke shop apemen and there was a U.S. film editor with a large pair of scissors getting very impatient. There’s some muddled message about the dangers of Nuclear weapons when Ruffo returns home to find her planet has turned into a model city with some houseplants growing on it. Then the credits roll with the future of humanity – and alien kind – left in the hands of this motley lot. I guess at least the males of the party won’t need much encouragement to start repopulating the universe.

Without interference from the U.S. distributor, this would still have been a pretty poor enterprise and, at its full length, rather tiresome. As it is, the cuts and dubbing do lend the film a certain wacky charm, once you get through the first half. Enjoyably naff.