Any movie with a title like The Werewolf and the Yeti needs to be a movie full of scenes where a werewolf fights a yeti. If the movie doesn’t live up to that title, you’ve ruined humanity’s chances for an awesome movie in which a werewolf fights a yeti
Naschy has the pieces, and he has some great ideas and some moments when things work, but the entirety never really comes together, and sloppy scripting ultimately undermines the film.
The main problem with Cry of the Banshee is that all of this should be a lot more interesting than it turns out to be. With naked witches, pagan rites, vengeful landlords, corrupt priests, witch burnings, and a ratty werewolf tearing out throats, Cry of the Banshee should be a thrilling, chilling, grotesque affair.
Picking up shortly after the end of Soulless, the second book finds capable heroine Alexia Tarabotti now Lady Alexia Maccon, newly wed to Lord Connal Maccon, who just happens to also be a werewolf and the chief investigator of supernatural crimes and mysteries in a Victorian England where “the supernatural set” has been integrated into regular society.
Which is when we learn that Alexia is not just a plucky spinster with an interest in the supernatural. She is, herself, supernatural, or rather preternatural — soulless, a rare type of person whose “power” is to render all supernatural beings perfectly normal for as long as she maintains physical contact with them. This is, we quickly learn, a Victorian London slightly different from the one we may remember from history.
One gets the feeling, however, that if a potential creator of outsider art suddenly found himself in possession of a movie camera, some plastic Dracula fangs, and half a dozen cheap novelty wolfman masks, the resultant film would look something like Shaitani Dracula.
It’s difficult to freshen up a hoary old concept without losing the essence of what made that concept eventually become hoary. Reinterpretations of classical monsters often go so far afield […]
I love Santo y Blue Demon contra los Monstruos. And, judging by the way it struggles so mightily to give me so many of those things that make me the happiest — like cheesy monsters, masked wrestlers, low budget gore, and lots of incoherent but frenetic fight scenes — I have to conclude that it loves me, too.
In 1958, Dracula would return in name but not with the familiar face of cinema’s best-known and most beloved Dracula, Bela Lugosi. Bela would return to the screen several times […]
I don’t blame you, Shiloh Fernandez. Someone told you to gel up your hair and act as much like the Twilight guy as possible, and you did what they asked.