Trio of Terror!

Today’s Vertically Challenged Villainous feature takes us back to a simpler time, one when color was foreign and sound preserved with scratchiness. What’s black and white and 20” tall? Tweedledee from The Unholy Three!

Quick Plot: A morally corrupt sideshow collapses under a police raid when the main little person attraction kicks a wily kid. Tweedledee (whom folks will easily recognize as the sad sack star of Freaks) buddies up with Echo, the ventriloquist (Lon Chaney’s only talkie role), Rosie the pickpocket and Hercules the strong man to escape and start a new con as the owners of a high-end pet shop.

Dressing Tweedledee up like a baby (whose cigar smoking habits calls to mind Who Framed Roger Rabbit?) and Echo like a kindly grandmother, the quartet (title be damned) squeezes some jewels out of their wealthy clientele. Problems pop up when Hector, their innocent cashier, falls in love for Betty Boop--I mean, Rosie, right around the same time 2/3rds of our stars (the tall and short one) shoot a man during a robbery gone wrong. Hector is wrongly accused of murder, leading to a trial, tears, and neckless apeman running wild.

The Unholy Three is a fairly infamous little oddity, based on a silent Tod Browning film made just five years earlier. Director Jack Conway approaches the material with some interesting ideas, having an awful lot of fun with the macabre nature of a dirty-talking little person in a nightgown buddying around with a ventriloquist in drag. The film doesn’t delve into any of the more disturbing territory of something like Freaks, but as a crime drama made at the dawn of talking cinema, it’s certainly something to behold.

Plus, there’s a killer ape. If you have even the slightest tinge of taste, that’s delicious.

High Points

The relationship between Rosie and Echo is actually quite touching, one filled with both abuse and affection that ends on a surprisingly sweet note

This movie features both a nasty little person AND a ventriloquist’s dummy, which would be awesome enough except The Unholy Three is amazing enough to give us THE NASTY LITTLE PERSON WITH THE VENTRILOQUIST’S DUMMY SINGING ON HIS KNEES!

Low Points

Part of it is the sound quality of my burned discboughtoffthestreets while the other part is the fact that poor little Harry Earles isn’t the best enunciator, but I’d be lying if I said I understood more than 13% of the dialogue that went on in this film

Lessons Learned

Thinking over a Maltese cat is better than thinking under an elephant

In the 1930s, there was no future in manicuring parrots. It’s a trade still waiting for its day to come

When your coworkers continuously go into the next room, lock the door, and laugh maniacally, you really should start skimming those want ads

Rent/Bury/Buy

The Unholy Three is not available for rental or purchase, but it’s easy to find streaming on Google Video and sites of the like. At barely an hour long, it’s an interesting enough watch for those who enjoy bizarre little surprises from the 1930s. Would you throw your creepy blonde-haired dummies at me if I said how much I’d love to see a tasteless remake?

Reader Recommendation: The Wolf Man

"Fuck Remakes. The original Wolfman is a classic for a reason! It really is THAT good. Lon Chaney Jr. is so charming and sympathetic. The atmosphere is flawless. A true representation of Classic Monsters and Classic Horror."--Eric

Let’s do this.

Quick Plot: Prodigal son Larry (Lon Chaney, Jr.) returns home after the death of his brother. With nothing else on his agenda, he takes a liking to his pretty next door neighbor Gwen, who looks especially good in the not-at-all-creepy view of Larry’s suggestively aimed telescope.

But putting inappropriate stalkeriness aside, Larry is a charming enough man who takes Gwen out on a romantic walk through the woods. Along the way, the pair encounter a spooked tribe of Gypsy fortune tellers with ominous warnings.

Silly Gypsies. Like they ever matter.

Oh. Right.

Before you can say Spider Baby, Larry is wrestling with a puppet werewolf and doging Gypsy murder accusations. The next day, he’s baffled to find no scars to prove his fateful evening, though he does discover his feet furrying up during the next full moon.

I did not grow up with The Wolf Man, which is something of a shame. What terrified my mother on basic cable showings never really had the chance to trouble my mind, especially considering my general aversion to werwolf cinema is only mildly stronger than my disconnect with giallo.

And yet, I heartily enjoyed The Wolf Man in all its black and white soundstage glory. Universal Horror has undeniable charm that simply works, seventy years old or not. 

High Points

Sure, it’s occasionally strained and overdramatic, but the instrumental score is also glorious and grand

There’s something quite refreshing about a horror movie not relying on a token bad guy. While the Wolfman is of course the villain of the tale, he’s also a figure of sympathy. Similarly, despite place for it, the film doesn’t cast any of the hunters in annoyingly Gaston-like roles as a plot convenience

Low Points

For a fairly short film, there seems to be an awful lot of downtime in The Wolf Man that makes it feel so much longer than its 70 minute running time

Lessons Learned

The best way to beat a wolf puppet is by using a wolf cane

Not all peeping toms are necessarily bad people, but that doesn’t really make them any less creepy 

Listen to the Gypsies. Always, with no exceptions whatsoever, listen to the Gypsies

Rent/Bury/Buy

Fans of classic Universal horrors will be happy to own the deluxe DVD, which includes special features AND three bonus films. Casual fans who prefer their lycanthropes dripping in crimson blood may be slightly bored, but everyone owes it to themselves to at least pay tribute to one of the classics with a watch, preferably when the moon is full.

Why I Love: Spider Baby

I was happier than Rob Zombie at a truck stop when Final Girl ’s Stacie Ponder announced Spider Baby, or The Maddest Story Ever Told as this month’s Film Club pickaroo. To quote my original review (read here) back on Valentine's Day of aught 9:

“This is horror comedy the way it should be done. Unique and pitch-perfect performances around the board, disturbing images that tickle like a spider’s spindly legs, and cheerfully self-aware dialogue to make you giggle. If this film doesn’t make you smile, your heat is made of stone that needs to be ground and served on a platter with rabbit and fungus. Nothing personal. It just is.”

I stand by that statement with even more conviction one year later, especially as I’ve since seen Jack Hill’s quirkily brutal 1968 black comedy about four more times. I adore it because gosh darnit, it’s one of the most lovable genre films I know. My original review spouts oodles of admiration, and I’d like to build upon that here with a new installment I hope to eventually Page Widgetize called, plain and simple, Why I Love (a movie I've seen many times).

5 Reasons:

1. Lon Chaney Jr.

With a rich baritone and unfolded map of a face, Chaney’s presence is such a solid base of kind warmth. Nearing the end of his career (and life), the once famed Wolfman turns in an earnest performance that somehow reminds me of why I’ve always wanted to hug the Cowardly Lion.

2. Family Love

Sure, Virginia, Ralphie, and Elizabeth aren’t the clan you’d like to be waiting on at your Denny’s waitressing gig, but the Merryes are undeniably a loving a family through and through. Chaney’s Bruno is the guiding force, a man who has devoted his life to providing the best possible conditions for three monstrous children to spend a few years. The sisters’ devotion to Ralphie is plain adorable. Heck, even the family pets are treated with kindness and gentility (so what if they happen to be fuzzy man-eating tarantulas). 

3. Quirkiness of the ‘Normal’ Characters

It’s easy to write off Quinn Redeker and Mary Mitchel as token Marilyn Munster tropes. Clean cut and attractive, both “Uncle” Peter and Ann seem to fade behind the outright wackiness of Sid Haig’s slobbering Ralphie and Jill Banner’s naughty Virginia, but pay close attention to just how much fun both actors have with their smaller roles. Redeker’s blissful sunniness makes him the truest innocent--a feat in itself amid madness, cannibalism, and near incest. Mitchel’s Ann is rather adorable, especially when she’s imitating Universal monsters or, as most the film, absolutely drunk. 

4. Music

How the opening theme song--sung by a sly Lon Chaney Jr. himself--never made it on a  juke box beside Monster Mash is beyond me. It’s an adorably macabre, cleverly worded ditty worthy of annual Halloween replays, daily ringtones, and wedding processionals. Likewise the film’s musical score--something I never really listened for the first two viewings--is equally playful and bombastically fun.

5. Sisterly Bonds

As Virginia and Elizabeth, and Jill Banner and Beverly Washburn are simply perfect. They bicker. They tattle. They pout. Occasionally, they drop their competitive snickering in order to protect big/little brother Ralphie or sweeten themselves up to dear old Bruno. In other words, they’re sisters, for better and worse. Although the raven haired Banner and petite blond Washburn share no physical resemblance, we never doubt for one instant that Virginia and Elizabeth share the most dramatically binding of all family bonds.

------------------------
There you have it. If you still haven’t seen Spider Baby, I will be sending my minions of black widows to your home to sit you down, spin webs around you and your Laz-E Boy, and insert the wonderfully featured (including a super cheerful commentary with the rightfully proud Hill & Haig) special edition into your DVD player for immediate viewing. Once watched, be sure to head over to Final Girl and busy yourself with a roundup of other reviews that damn well better heap mountains of praise upon Spider Baby with equal fervor. Otherwise, those black widows are going off their vegetarian diet and righting what’s wrong in the world.

This has gone well beyond the boundaries of prudence and good taste!

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d make an announcement:


I’m in love.


It’s sudden, I know. Foolish, perhaps? But ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce the current fire in my lady loins:


Jack Hill's Spider Baby or The Maddest Story Ever Told (1968)

How is it possible that I survived 27 years without seeing this movie?



Somewhere in the boonies of California, the immensely huggable Lon Chaney Jr. plays Bruno, the sad faced, deep voiced caretaker to the, um, unusual Merrye children: Elizabeth, a short and sassy tattletale, the homicidal arachnoholic Virginia, and Ralphie, the canine man-child played by a young, skinny, and gloriously bald Sid Haig.

Life is merry in the gothic Merrye mansion; spiders are fed (and occasionally eaten), kittens are caught, and everyone has fun fooling around the dumbwaiter. Much like the colder, bloodier (and usually less funny) descendants of hillbilly horror, Spider Baby’s plot gets rolling with the intrusion of city folk to remind us that the Merryes are different. Isolation isn’t the problem; genetics is. Apparently the family is cursed with a disease that leads all the children who have reached the age of ten to slowly (or quickly, if they follow the Atkins diet) descend into a state of “pre-human savagery and cannibalism.” If Benjamin Button is anything like this, I’m changing my bet and saying it’s guaranteed the Best Picture win.

The invading urbanites include a Hitleresque lawyer named Schlocker and the uptight distant Merrye cousin Emily (you know she’s in for it because she has a tight bun and faux British accent), plus two nicer bland pretty people, all of whom are seeking a large inheritance from their savage kin. The children don’t take very kindly towards strangers (well, except Ralphie, who’s got a hard--I mean soft spot for the ladies). The inevitable dinner party and sleepover follow, gleefully complete with creeping tarantulas, incestuous seduction, Ms. Pacman style bows, Wolfman references, and, needless to say, loads of full-flavored fun.

High Points
The opening theme song makes me want to dip Chaney’s vocal cords in dark chocolate and eat them slowly. Not in a cannibalistic way or anything.


In his formalwear, Ralphie resembles Monty Burns whenever we see the tycoon as a child clad in knickers and Yankee Doodle Dandy hats


Elizabeth and Virginia, despite little physical resemblance between the actresses, are wonderfully believable as young sisters

Low Points
Drunk driving never looked so easy


Lessons Learned
Twine is really strong if tied correctly

Hearing “Aunt Emily!” shouted by knife wielding nieces makes me thankful that my little ladies refer to me exclusively as Auntie Em.


Uptight rich city blondes pack sexy lingerie when staying at long-lost relatives’ homes

Stray Observation
Anne, the Marilyn Munster of the party, is quite the lush (note the final scene)


Winning Line:
Elizabeth: Spiders don't eat other spiders.
Virginia: Cannibal spiders do.
I chose this one mainly because it reminds me of the sea monkeys I grew in college. When I ran out of their powdery nourishment, I tossed in a few bits of dry cat food. Within a day, the little tank was clouded and the sea monkeys were no more. A friend pointed out the error of my way: cat food is made of fish. Hence, I had unknowingly transformed my baby brine into cannibals. I’ve since developed two theories regarding the cause of this massacre: 1) they developed a taste for fish flesh and ended up eating each other to death or 2) upon devouring their ancestors, my little swimmers committed mass suicide out of shame and horror.


Rent/Buy/Bury:
Buy and cuddle with. This is horror comedy the way it should be done. Unique and pitch-perfect performances around the board, disturbing images that tickle like a spider’s spindly legs, and cheerfully self-aware dialogue to make you giggle. If this film doesn’t make you smile, your heat is made of stone that needs to be ground and served on a platter with rabbit and fungus. Nothing personal. It just is.


Right girls?