Love is in the air?! Yayyyyyyyyy! What a lovely afternoon to be young and smitten (either way, you won’t have any money, so enjoy), and being that it is such a delightful post meridian, why not take your soon-to-be beloved out for a romantic stroll and picnic? A nice homemade meal, spread out on a red and white checkered cloth, with heart-shaped bubbles floating above your heads. Just make sure the tenderness frothing does not obstruct the view of the maniacal homicidal killer cupid about to hurl an impassioned arrow (or meat cleaver) through your hearts! Never in the history of (bad) cinematic nightmares has such a movie title ever lived up to what splatters across the screen! The Ghastly Ones (a.k.a. Blood Rites) is truly a sight to see (you will hardly believe what floats across your eyes), but I feel this film might be in violation (of good taste). Slaughtered rabbits, deformed rampage-filled Igors, and bloodied Xs placed through a hauntingly horrifying dilapidated mansion are chopped in throughout, and this is within the first three minutes of the film! However, before we continue, by the law (and under my attorney’s discretion), it is my (il)legal opinion director Andy Milligan violates Hollyweird code Title 90210, #5901156475847: A person must be executed if they make a film which they know is likely to be observed by others who would be affronted or alarmed (after watching, people are going to kill to get a decent, affordable lawyer)!
Made on a meek $13,000 (talk about inheriting the crummy earth), and described as “the work of morons with cameras” by Stephen King, this was one of the first films shot in color by the infamous Andrew Jackson Milligan Jr. known professionally as Andy Milligan, the king of Staten Island’s cheapo-creepo features. A self-taught filmmaker, Milligan has built a cult status among the collectors of (not-so) good horror films along with his contemporaries like Hershall Gordon Lewis (Blood Feast) and Ray Dennis Steckler (The Thrill Killers). With access to theatrical costume shops, and residing in a Victorian area dilapidating mansion (it’s truly a house to die for), Milligan and friends decided one day to make films with a 16-millimeter Auricon sound-on-film news camera, and did so with the intent of criminals (bench warrants were issued by the court of cinematic public opinion). Milligan was a regular renaissance man, as he wrote, directed, produced, set built, designed make-up effects, and even sewed costumes for his films, and would I be in contempt of court if I were to say out loud that it shows on screen? To make a movie is a miracle alone, so Milligan has to be given some kudos for being able to make a career making these quickie-wickies on Staten Island for very little money, but the material gathered for discovery lacks prudence in execution(s). However, I must object (I hold myself in contempt) as I love movies that are homegrown like his. In submitting our appeal, even though The Ghastly Ones might make you barf from the handheld shakiness or the site of the (crayon-like) colorful blood throughout, we feel the defendant, one Andy Milligan, should be praised for his efforts and let the films themselves stand as a testament for creativity in limitation for (truly) independent filmmakers. Are his films great? Absolutely, and positively, no. But they are made with a passionate heart, worthy of a massacred picnic in (literally) Milligan’s back yard. Your Honor, the defense rests (the popcorn bucket on the seat next to us so that creepy man doesn’t sit next to us).
Receiving a certified letter from their family’s attorney (who looks like a mix of Ebenezer Scrooge and the villain from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer), three sisters are given strict directions to stay at a run-down Victorian mansion their late father owned. They are to stay there to hear his final testament. Along with their (in)significant others along for company, the sisters journey to the remote location, and from the moment they arrive, something sinister is foul. From the moment when a rabbit is ravaged by the help’s malformed son to the moment where one of the sisters’ heads is served up on a platter (mmmmmm, mmmmmm good), the only desire the sisters want to inherit is the will to live! Is there someone, or something, lurking around the mansion, or could there be more plot twists to this family than a bad, bloody soap opera?
Served up on a tiny brass platter at seventy-two minutes, Milligan continued a long career of quickie-creepies with such titles as Depraved!, Gutter Trash, and The Rats Are Coming! The Werewolves Are Here! before he passed away into obscurity, until companies like Something Weird Video brought his work back to the public’s attention (where their opinions had softened over time). You can find most of Milligan’s remaining prints (of those that survived) on streamers like Tubi and Amazon, but be sure to get your depraved paws on the ‘The Dungeon Of Andy Milligan’ nine-disc collection from Severin Films (just don’t steal it. It’s against the law). So if the court finds in your defense of enjoying the (not so) classic tome of Milligan’s work, then consider yourself free to enjoy an afternoon picnic of beheadings, killings, and feasting on the scrumptious work of a very (not so) wanted criminally (under)appreciated filmmaker!
