THE BRIDE AND THE BEAST/WHITE GORILLA

THE BRIDE AND THE BEAST/WHITE GORILLA

Horror and sci-fi are the few genres where 'bad' films may be treated with the same reverence as superior products Whereas other genres are quick to forget pictures of low quality, and thumb their nose at slip-shod writing or inane acting, the horror field just as often celebrate its underachievers, finding pearls in even the murkiest dredge. Perhaps this is just the child in us wanting to stand in awe of something dark and miraculous, willing to wade through sludge to witness dark miracles, willing to forgive just about any budgetary flaw or plot contrivance so long as we sense even the smallest amount of determination behind the camera. Often 'bad' movies gain a following precisely for the incompetence and unintentional absurdity that prevented them from enjoying legitimate success as serious thrillers. Lackluster acting and not so special effects invite smirks or smiles of affection, and even the worst offenders invites admiration. So long as they don't commit the sin of being boring, and provide some semblance of craziness -- purposefully or quite by accident -- even the cheesiest Deadly Dud has something to recommend it for the true fan of Cult cinema. At the top of the list of the so-bad-they're-good catalogue stands Ed Wood, Jr., the man who placed 5 cent monsters beside cardboard sets, found financing from conservative religious groups, and was both friend (and exploiter of) Bela Lugosi. VCI, a company dedicated to preserving the cult atrocities and carnal classics of yesteryear presents a slice of Wood's wonderfully demented approach and devotion to sensationalism in their pairing of The Bride and the Beast and The White Gorilla. A double threat of jungle lovin, monkey suited adventure, this disc is a nostalgic trip back in time, revisiting the era of the Drive In or Matinee experience. While neither title can be taken seriously as art, both are entertaining on a gut level if taken in the spirit of fun in which they seem to have been made.

"Positively no refunds!" the DVD cover reads above a drooling Ape fondling a scantily clad Bride, mirroring the unapologetic showmanship responsible for the campy humor and adventure prevalent in The Bride and the Beast, the first feature on the disc. Taken from an Ed Wood script, in Wood's script, this shlock-shocker delights in its excess and bizarre scenarios, and is admirable for its moxy. Attempting to pass itself off as a hybrid of horror and past life regression, the film merges science and superstition with lewd suggestions of interspecies sexual shenanigans and laughable dialogue. On a more serious note, the story attempts to merge a 'serious' dramatic love tragedy with the 'scary ape' syndrome that once permeated the horror genre. The result, while far from tragic, is surprisingly mature in its intent even as it bumbles in its style.

Directed by Adrian Weiss, Bride and the Beast is stuffed with minor explosions of incredulousness and fetish, including wild kingdom cuckolding and simian jealousy. When Big Game hunter Dan Fuller (Lance Fuller) marries Laura Carson, he whisks her to his secluded country mansion to celebrate their wedding night. He just happens to keep an enormous gorilla in a secret cage (in the basement) of his home. Unexpectedly, Laura is attracted to the brute, allowing the animal to stroke her in an unabashedly sexual manner quite risky for its time. During the night, the amorous animal gets 'chummy' with the willing Laura until Dan, enraged, kills it. A hypnotherapy session reveals that Laura was Queen of the Gorillas in a former life, explaining her behaviour. And, buddy, she isn't just monkeying around!

Complete with wooden characters and cheap sets, the film moves along at a slow, dreamlike pace -- heightened by the workmanlike direction of Weiss. While definitely a grade C sleeper at best, this unique symbiosis of predestination and interspecies sexual relations/love was brazen for its cultural environment, and is worthwhile for the zeal in which the erotically charged Laura dives into her lustful role. Not as poorly shot as Wood's own films, nor as inane as many others of its type, The Bride and the Beast deals with socially taboo themes beneath its cheaply shot exteriors and wooden shooting style, suggesting unexpected tenderness and pathos. A mirror of the '50s Bridey Murphy phenomena, wherein various folks claimed to recall past reincarnated existences under hypnosis, Wood's script and Weiss's direction compliment one another in a surrealistic sort of manner, and while it's a shame that such potentially explosive material was milked for shucks instead of true terror, the result is classic bad cinema.

VCI treats this movie with respect, showing the same professionalism that was evident in their past few double features. The Bride and the Beast is presented in 1.66:1 anamorphic widescreen. Culled from original 35mm negatives, this is a surprisingly wonderful looking print of a film that never looked very good to begin with. A definite improvement over the public domain VHS versions, little signs of damage remain. Sound is also cleaned up, with no noticeable interference.

Extras for The Bride and the Beast are informative and fun, featuring ad campaign materials and intriguing scholarly commentary that helps create a thematic context with which to better appreciate the film, its time, and the genre. Written Bios are informative if economically conceived, and the Photo Gallery consists of both an 'Advertising' Gallery and a 'Ballyhoo' Gallery, both of which are great campy fun, and breathing with the showmanship of a vintage travelling circus. The most substantial supplement is the astute commentary of Charolette Austin, Bob Burns, Slick Savin, and Tom Weaver. As the resident horror and sci-fi historians on hand, both Weaver and Burns keep their portions of the talk informative and lively. Weaver does an admirable job keeping things interesting, coaxing intriguing reminiscences from the cast and merging various elements of genre history and rumour, personal recollections and fact. Scholarly without the dryness inherent in academia, all these folks are a pleasure to listen to, and both Burns and Weaver come across as true fans of independent genre movies. Some of the track's highlights include supernatural experiences, run ins with hypnotism, memories of Ed Wood, and a steady barrage of good natured ribbing, punctuated periodically by Weaver's readings of vintage reviews written about the film at hand. A small bio on Weaver comes next with trailers of King Dinosaur, The Jungle, Bride and the Beast, White Gorilla, Jungle Monster, and Macumba Love rounding out this portion.

Not as psychologically innovative in subtext as The Bride and the Beast, neither is White Gorilla as well filmed. More notable for its trick of splicing original 1940s material into pre-existing footage from a silent 1927 serial, this forest frolic is uneven and tedious in the extreme . . . yet strangely fascinating. A tasteless feast for lovers of Bad Cinema, this confused jungle picture fuses fable and exploitation in an uneven if unique fashion as the White Gorilla of said title is shunned by the black gorillas because of his color. A bit of 'Ugly Duckling' syndrome is here injected into an otherwise uneventful story as the big guy goes about menacing strangers and natives. Soon the white gorilla and leader of the pack battle it out. Why? We never really know, but we know it's of monumental importance because the film tells us so! Resembling an unfinished dream, this odd feature defies sense, and is somehow more fun for it.

While one is tempted to suggest that the filmmakers of White Gorilla were perhaps attempting allegory or a moralistic message in their emphasis on skin color and prejudice, that would be too much of a stretch, as much of the film already existed (see above) as the serial "Perils of the Jungle" and neither that nor the new footage filmed seems to concerned with going anywhere especially significant with the theme. A textbook example of grade Z filmmaking, this quickie fills the premise of a jungle expedition gone bad with undeniable panache and wide-eyed enthusiasm. Its faults are not only forgiven but eventually embraced by the right sort of fan. While the sequencing of events -- and the pacing -- are lackluster, and the story itself void of excitement, the daringness of the filmmakers has to be admired. A sense of 'hey kids, let's do a show!' permeates the mismatched footage, complete with contrasting grain and changing film stock. This all adds up to an unintentionally expressionistic experience. Structured as a frame/flashback, the device of having a survivor narrate the text only adds to the delirium.

The White Gorilla is featured in 1.33:1, and looks the best it probably ever will considering the splicing committed in its original incarnation and cheap production values. While a fair amount of soft picture and grain remains, and skips between the serial/feature are easy to trace, this is one of those rare occasions when such deficiencies add something of nostalgia to the experience, reaffirming the piece's economy and showmanship. Audio is a bit scratchy but the track as a whole is enjoyable listening, no better or worse than any other typical Poverty Row feature. Extras are not as extensive but what is included is easily worth the price of admission. Besides inclusion of bonus footage from Perils of the Jungle (1927), these consist of another Bob Burns and Tom Weaver commentary, as they give their thoughts on genre and the feature. Discussing various little known facets of the film and its creators, as well as tid-bits from fandom in general, this track delivers intriguing information in an easily accessible manner, wrapping up an evening of low grade, high cheese thrills.

Review by William P. Simmons


 
Released by VCI
Region 1 - NTSC
Not Rated
Extras :
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