The problem of making a low-budget horror film for around seventeen thousand dollars (besides the cheap bologna sandwiches at craft services) is knowing which witch’s sandwich is which? It can be chaotic on a set like that, with rushed takes, fake-looking blood, and rubber fangs freshly painted, but there is a charm to low-budget horror filmmaking. Still, tolerance is a virtue only a true stoic hero like Dr. Van Helsing can hone, and horror fans only have so much of it stored within the blue veins of their flesh and bones (along with a lot of grease from all the butter on the popcorn). The crypt of horrific cinematic features is haunted by the ghosts of great intentions, and though we can dig up some entertainment on some levels with their corpus, it’s not always that easy to forgive the filmmakers and the crimes they commit. Limited casts? Sure. Wild and unbelievable acting? Happens when you have to cast your cousin’s great-nephew. Editing that looks like it was made using rusted kindergarten shears? Name of the game watching cheesy Maffra Red Leicester flicker (that’s no Gouda). Forgiveness is divine, and horror fans that can sit through such garlic scented garbage are saints, but even fallen angels can lose their cool, which is how one might feel watching the vampire (or is it a Vampire? Witch? Gorgan? Succubus? Which darn beast is it?) Barbara Steele starring (more like guest starring) killer chiller The She-Beast (aka Revenge of the Blood Beast).
The fascinating (and tragic) part of this film is that it was the first film directed by up-and-comer Michael Reeves, and it shows how we lost a talent before it was able to be discovered. Having worked early in his career with such suckers as Don Siegel and Jack Cardiff, Reeves eventually made his way to Italy to work with producer Paul Manslansky (Police Academy franchise) on films like Castle of the Living Dead before Manslansky gave him directorial and writing responsibilities for this independent horror (code for cheapy creepy) film. Showcasing his use of camera angles and working with actors, it does raise (from the dead) the level of the film beyond the watery grave of its villain (werewolf?), but story-wise, this film seems a little D.O.A. Even the great Steele, who has proven over and over again she can make a mountain out of ashes (to ashes) in roles like this, but even she seems to be lost on why she is even there for the limited time on screen (pretty sure the money helped)! Rumor mill is that she was paid only a thousand dollars for one day’s work, and all of her scenes were shot in a grueling, teeth-clenching twenty-two hours. If the films was a small film school for Reeves it showed what a quick learner he was with his next two projects, the Boris Karloff starring The Sorcerers and the steak through the heart of the wild American International Pictures years Witchcraft General (aka The Conquering Worm), which was so notoriously chaotic of a production is severed the artery of Vincent Price with the company. As his budgets increased, so did the quality, as all three films showcased a talented macabre artist who was just claiming his ground (or Transylvania dirt) in the genre. Sadly, while working on his next project, Reeves was taking sleeping pills to help deal with the stress and passed away in his sleep, thus preventing the world from seeing what could have been a legendary career among the true masters of horror.
In the lush (and deadly) country of Transylvania (🎵6500🎵), the decent of the original slayer of Count Dracula lives to make sure the beastly creature (Wendigo?) his ancestors staked to a catapult and buried in the water (don’t ask how the wooden contraption has not rotted in over two hundred years in the water) doesn’t once again fly with the children of the night. However, upon the arrival of the newlyweds Veronica and Phillip (Steele and cult horror legend Ian Ogilvy) to the shady only hotel, run by the creepy hotel manager (played shamefully comedic by Roger Corman loyalist Mel Welles), there seems to be a stink in the air, and it isn’t the hanging garlic everywhere – it’s death! After the hotel manager shows his true colors, the couple escape the hotel only to crash in the road, where upon the hideous beast from long ago (Loch Ness Monster?) avatars the body of Victoria and recks havoc upon the harmless villagers, whom are ancestors of those who captured the beast (poltergeist?) all those years ago and whom the beast now seeks revenge on. Can the ancestor of the great Van Helsing and Philip bring the grotesque beast back to the water where it must eternally rest to save his beloved Victoria, or will the beast sink its teeth into a sweet just desserts red velvet cake of justice?
Scratching the lid of the coffin at a ghastly seventy-four minutes, the film went on to be released in various titles in other countries, like in Italy as Il lago di Satana (The Lake of Satan), before coming to many drive-ins as a double bill with the equally fiscally lacking The Embalmer. You can find this little red-capped monstrosity lurking in the ghostly halls of Castle Public Domain, but try to get your long-fingered hands on the special edition from Dark Sky Films with an audio commentary featuring Steele, Ogilby, and Manslansky. So next time you are traveling in a Volkswagen Beetle across the old country, be sure to bring an extra pair of shorts in case a water-bogged creature (Gilman?) steals your identity and your traveler’s checks (also, don’t forget to pack an extra toothbrush, some socks, and blessed holy water, just in case).
