Even though many would disagree with me (and often have), I believe there is merit to the idea that every horror movie has redeeming surface value. Especially the ones that last a long time beyond the eighth run at the drive-in circuit, where the film is so scratched it looks like Freddy Krueger went on a bender (what a nightmare for projectionists)! You know the ones. Certainly grainy cinematic blemishes that did their tour of duty and ended up on some wild VHS label to be thrown into bargain bins across ‘murica (with killer covers sought after to this day). You might say those films have tough skin, or at least they hung in there with the skin of their teeth. Whether the film survives on the stratum spinosum, stratum granulosum, stratum lucidum, or the stratum corneum surface, the long-lasting impact after you turn off the RCA SelectaVision SGT400 Video Disc Player is whether the movie crawled under your skin and burrowed in the regions of your subconscious. Some films can be swatted away like a mosquito, others can be burnt off like a tick, but nothing can burrow its way to the stratum basale like the 1971 (more like 1965) black and white scrumdiddleyumpitious morsel titled I Eat Your Skin, a film so scandalous and notorious for a title in which none of what it suggests happens in the movie!
To understand where the film all began, you have to finish everything on your cinematic plate and go straight to the end of the story (and be sure to brush your teeth). In 1971, Cinemation Industries founder and CEO Jerry Gross (great last name for a horror producer) was having a mighty appetite releasing such exploitation treats like Shanty Tramp, Teenage Mother, and The Cheerleaders to the local drive-in markets when he stumbled upon a juicy film cooked bloody rare called Phobia about satanic hippie-dippies who rain everything but peace, love, and hippiness upon a small town. Remembering that he had produced a black-and-white cheapie-creepy years before for a hundred-and-twenty-thousand dollars (and some change) called Caribbean Adventure, Gross thought he could pull an old American International Pictures tactic and release the two films as a double bill. The only issue is he felt the movies needed better, and more palatable, titles to bring in the audience. See, years before when he finished the first in 1965, Gross thought he had a five-star course meal in the can. However, when distributors watched the film, they had a hard time swallowing (gulp). Worried he might have bitten off more than he could chew, Gross desperately tried to release the film under several titles, including Zombies, Zombie Bloodbath, Woo Doo Zombies, and Voodoo Bloodbath, with no one taking the bait and letting it collect skin cells on the shelf until he remembered to dust it off. Then, with a stroke of genius, a (m)ad-man Gross associated with came up with the titles I Drink Your Blood and I Eat Your Skin for both films. Catchy, snappy, and promising not one, but two horrific acts to make goosebumps grow all over your body, Gross finally sold the double bill to theatres and drive-ins across the world. Great news, but there was only one small, tiny, microscopic little detail missing… No skin gets eaten, or blood gets drunk (hopefully the audience was drunk enough not to notice)! The local actors do their best with what is given, and Francois Farkes’ cinematography must be commended for being better than this movie deserves, but with titles that are so promising, it sure shows how a film can truly trim the juicy fat layers away to nothing!
Goldeneye this island is not, and adventurous Ian Fleming this writer ain’t! When novelist Tom Harris’ publishers take him to a remote Caribbean island to research for his long-awaited new book, they think it will be two Cuban Trogons, one stone: their writer will finally write the pages they need while getting a nice little vacation out of the deal (along with a hefty write-off). There is just one problem their travel agent never mentioned… the island zombies! Now, these are not George A. Romero zombies who rip apart your flesh with their gnarly teeth. These are the traditional zombies from the Voodoo legends! Dying to get off the island (pun intended), they all try to find different ways to escape the horde of the walking dead (or bug-eyed weirdoes with plaster mix dried on their face) before the zombies take one of them for their sacrificial ceremony. Will one of them end up as a sacrificial lamb begrudgingly left at the altar, or will Harris be able to write an ending where they all escape the terr(or)ific tropical paradise before he gets massive writer’s block?
Sticking to the roof of your mouth at a salivating eighty-two minutes, and written, produced, and directed by Delbert Tenny (who went on to make mouth-watering classics like The Horror of Party Beach and Satan in High Heels), this film has the distinct honor of being featured twice on the legendary television programme by Mistress of the Dark, Elvira (now, there’s some programming to sink your teeth into). You can find this on most streaming platforms, but try to get your hands on the DVD copy of Elvira’s Movie Macabre, where she roasts the film (for maximum taste). It takes thick skin to watch films like these, but since the epidermis is the largest organ on the body, it just means horror fans alike can watch a lot of B movies, but don’t let them rub you the wrong way or they’ll get on your nerves!
