Were we just talking about the fact that every film critic has a blind spot or ten? Yes, in the context of my 70-best-of-the-decade list, which still awaits it promised addendum. WELL. One of my several blind spots is in the category of the Spanish horror film despite the noble attempts of the likes of, say, Video Watchdog to acquaint me with its riches. This is why I’m sheepish when approaching the untimely death of Spanish horror maestro Paul Naschy, in Madrid on the last day of November, at the age of 75. I knew of the actor/writer/director, but despite the efforts of VW’s Tim Lucas and other articulate cultists I was never really able to get a hook into his work. My friend Joseph Failla made more of a go of it than I did, and he sent me these observations earlier:
I was saddened to hear about the passing of Jacinto Molina aka Paul Naschy, today at 75 from pancreatic cancer. Spanish horror films were always something of an acquired taste for me. For some reason, I didn’t take to them as naturally as the ones coming from Italy. But over time and their new found availability on dvd, I learned to appreciate Naschy and his work (he also played Dracula, a mummy and a hunchback) as if I knew them all my life. It was however the Hombre Lobo series (I’m very fond of WEREWOLF VS. THE VAMPIRE WOMAN / WEREWOLF SHADOW) which at first seemed so silly, and then later, lead me to watching as many Spanish horror films as I could.
What I suppose I’m saying is, without the Naschy films to encourage me, I don’t know how long it would have taken myself to discover items like, Amando de Ossorio’s BLIND DEAD series, Vicente Aranda’s THE BLOOD SPLATTERED BRIDE, Jorge Grau’s LET SLEEPING CORPES LIE or Claudio Guerin Hill’s A BELL FROM HELL. Of course today with the wonderful contributions from Guillermo del Toro, I’ve the highest regard for the genre.
I’ll be paying my respects to the “Lon Chaney of Spain” this weekend with a viewing of FRANKENSTEIN’S BLOODY TERROR (MARK OF THE WOLF MAN), an incredibly confusing title for Naschy’s debut as cursed werewolf, Waldemar Daninsky. That’s something I’m sure I’ve spoken about to Sam Sherman, but I can’t recall why he settled on that particular title, I’ll just have to listen to the commentary.
I probably ought to do the same as Joe, if I can. The thing about cinephilia is that you never stop discovering.
A brief shout out for Naschy’s feverishly trashy ‘giallo’/bizarre homage to ‘Les Diabliques’: “Panic Beats”
There’re some real wonders there to behold in Naschy’s filmography, Glenn. Think Italian trash glory with the added zeal/mordant wit of religious/political oppression.
An interesting topic of conversation, from the person who six months ago declared, “I sincerely don’t understand the point of such middling ‘I have a blind spot for X’ communiques.”
I think “blind spots” in this usage means “something I haven’t gotten around to investigating” instead of “something considered a classic that I never quite ‘got’ myself”. (Though I personally find both worthy of discussion.)
Perhaps I ought to have refined my terminology here. By “blind spot” with respect to Naschy I meant that I hadn’t seen a whole lot of his pictures, and the miniscule number I had been exposed to didn’t compel me to seek out any further ones. But the guy croaked, and I understand he meant quite a bit to some folks in my readership, and so on—I’m addressing what I saw as a practical concern here. If I recall correctly, the post I took exception to six months ago dealt with the fact that you couldn’t quite warm to “An American In Paris” after multiple viewings and in spite of its critical reputation as you saw it. My position now is the same as my position then—if you want to cock a snoot at a film you think is over-rated or over-praised, just do it, without equivocation—but I’m not entirely sure we were seeing the situation in equivalent terms anyway. So, there’s a little bit of a difference, not that I’m too invested in splitting hairs at this point.
Allow me to state, absolutely without sarcasm, that I’m awed by your power of instant recall, and at the same time rather relieved that we’re not related.
Well this post was like a punch to the gut. I came rather late to Naschy myself. I watched a ton of his stuff in a concentrated dose last year thanks to the good folks at Netflix. None of his films stood out to me the way that a prime Bava or Argento or Terence Fischer does, but I love the genre and the time period and I developed a real affection for the man’s work. I will second PANIC BEATS as one of his most interesting (god bless Mondo Macabro). I heard he made something of a late comeback with a film called ROJO SANGRE but I haven’t seen that one just yet. Perhaps now is as good a time as any.
Naschy’s MARK OF THE WOLF MAN (aka HELL’S CREATURES) was retitled FRANKENSTEIN’S BLOODY TERROR to get Independent-International Pictures out of a hole.
I‑IP’s Sam Sherman had recently finished shooting BLOOD OF FRANKENSTEIN, starring Lon Chaney Jr. and J. Carrol Naish. The marketing campaign had been prepared and the picture booked in nearly 500 theaters when one of the backers kicked up a fuss. Subsequently the film was tied up in litigation, leaving Sherman with 500 playdates and no Frankenstein feature. He hurriedly screened numerous European horror movies to which U. S. theatrical rights were still available but had no luck finding anything that remotely resembled a Frankenstein film. Having been impressed by MARK OF THE WOLF MAN, he elected to send it out as FRANKENSTEIN’S BLOODY TERROR, reasoning (correctly, as it happened) that the picture would satisfy monster-movie fans snookered by his bait-and-switch tactics.
Once the lawsuit was settled, BLOOD OF FRANKENSTEIN became DRACULA VS. FRANKENSTEIN and was marketed with a different campaign. Sherman took advantage of the extra time to reshoot the picture’s ending, with which he’d never been happy.
Wow, that’s neat. You don’t get great behind-the-scenes stories like that happening in 2009; makes me yen for the days when a movie could have six different titles in six different parts of the same country. Thanks, Ed!
The critic is considered to be the psychic inverse of genius.This insight was formulated early by Lessing as “not every critic is a genius, but every genius is born a critic…genius has the proof of all rules within itself.” Kant scholar Jane Kneller has read this to indicate that, as opposed to the externally oriented and culturally dependent critic, “genius demonstrates its autonomy not by ignoring all rules, but by deriving the rules from itself.”