Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Reviewed: SEE NO EVIL 2

Sylvia and Jen Soska, promoting their new film before they could say what it was.

I'll say it straight up: I think the Soska sisters - Jen and Sylvia, the Twisted Twins - are the most positive and energizing creative force the horror and exploitation genres have seen in some time. Their two previous features, DEAD HOOKER IN A TRUNK (2009) and AMERICAN MARY (2012), respectively represent a victory over budget and a triumph over expectation that left any number of possible roads open to them. The latter - a black comic, feminist fable that, among other things, uses the genre to describe how contemporary society has made criminality too profitable to deny - warrants recognition as one of the best horror films of the last decade. In addition to being talented filmmakers who have already forged a voice of their own within the genre, they have also proven themselves to be self-promoters with few peers. With their matching hairstyles, distinct personalities and personal charisma, they are the Beatles of Blood.

The Soskas have been keeping busy since completing AMERICAN MARY - making two features almost back-to-back for WWE Studios, as well as a segment for THE ABC'S OF DEATH 2 - but only now is this fund of finished work beginning to surface with the imminent release of SEE NO EVIL 2, a direct sequel to a 2006 film that introduced wrestling star Glenn "Kane" Jacobs as Jacob Goodnight, a seven-foot-tall, 400-pound mountain of muscle dedicated to collecting the eyeballs of all those who have sinned in his eyes.

The original SEE NO EVIL was nothing to write home about. Directed by Gregory Dark - a.k.a. Gregory Brown, Gregory Hippolyte, Alexander Gregory Hippolyte, and Jon Valentine, depending on whether the format was music video, softcore or hardcore porn - from a script by Dan Madigan, it followed the misfortunes of a group of arrogant teenage coed delinquents bussed to the burned-out Blackwell Hotel, where they have been promised that some months will be knocked off their sentences if they help to fix the place up. Unknown to them and their prison supervisors, the hotel is being used as an elaborate spider web of sorts for the lumbering Jacob and his diminutive, nattering, Bible-crazed mother (Nancy Bell). The only remarkable thing about SEE NO EVIL - a film covered in grime and slime and generally awash in misery - is not its evident misogyny but rather its misanthropy; it shows an absolute non-partisan loathing for all humanity. The most likeable characters suffer the most and the worst, while the most loathsome character ultimately leads the final exodus to safety. When you watch the film, you can see the germ of an idea that might have worked - wherein the derelict hotel becomes an onscreen variety of Halloween haunted house - but the camera is on permanent throttle and it is not an enjoyable ride.

It's no surprise that this oppressive, unpleasant franchise bid didn't spawn any immediate return trips - eight years passed between its two chapters, which is virtually the distance between HALLOWEEN and HALLOWEEN IV (which, by coincidence, introduced Danielle Harris, the star of the film I'm on the point of getting to). What is surprising is that the WWE approached the Soska Sisters to helm a sequel, and that they accepted - it seems they are wrestling fans and, making no secret of their disappointment with the earlier picture, were eager to demonstrate what they could achieve with a fixer-upper. It seems they could do quite a bit.

Glenn "Kane" Jacobs as Jacob Goodnight.

In its skill and cleverness, in its playfulness and bawdiness, SEE NO EVIL 2 reminds me very much of John Carpenter's HALLOWEEN, though it is set in an environment closer to that of the hospital in HALLOWEEN 2 - a perpetuation, perhaps, of the Soskas' evident misgivings about the medical establishment. Unlike its oppressively heavy predecessor, it is something of a rare bird among today's horror fare in that it is a horror film that intends its audience to enjoy it. Though Lionsgate has sadly made the decision to deny it this, SEE NO EVIL 2 was clearly built to be enjoyed on the big screen, in the dark (into which it plunges us occasionally with great glee), in the company of a lot of other like-minded people who want to have fun with it. It sets its tone of tongue-in-cheek irony right away with loving details of numerous tools of death which are gradually revealed to be the forensic instruments in a mortuary, not the savage tools of Jacob's workshop, which are then followed by what may be the most delightful director's screen credit in movie history.

Danielle Harris and Kaj-Erik Eriksen.

Working from a script by first-timers Nathan Brooks and Bobby Lee Darby, the Soskas immediately set about fixing the original's most faulty carpentry by establishing a core group of characters that we come to quickly care about. Our heroine is Amy (Danielle Harris), a pretty morgue attendant who, we learn, surrendered her dream of becoming a doctor because "we all end up here eventually" - meaning the morgue. There are hints that life has disappointed her, and it is also passing her by - it's her birthday, which she planned to spend partying with a group of friends, until she, her infatuated pathologist co-worker Seth (Kaj-Erik Eriksen) and paraplegic boss Holden (BATES MOTEL's Michael Eklund) are suddenly inundated with the incoming from the previous film's slaughterfest. But some friends don't take "no" for an answer and the birthday party finds its way to Amy at the morgue, led by her best friend Tamara (AMERICAN MARY lead Katharine Isabelle). Dragged along in Tamara's undeniable wake are her boyfriend Carter (Lee Majdoub), another girlfriend named Kayla (Chelon Simmons), and Amy's brother Will (Greyston Holt), who intuits Seth's interest in Amy and advises him that his sister deserves better. There is a lot of sublimated, frustrated attraction going on - between Amy and Seth, also between Will and Kayla (who manages to overturn Will's tendency to see her "as a sister" with a hot kiss), and Tamara sits on Holden's numb lap to coerce some grisly details out of him. Anxious, fascinated by weird crime details, and feeling up for some dangerous drama, Tamara feigns a need to pee to seek out the remains of Jacob Goodnight, which she ends up straddling and teasing with an apparently effective kiss of life - it's the only explanation we get of his imminent resurrection, but better a sexy kiss than a lame deus ex machina.

Raising Kane: Katharine Isabelle and Glenn Jacobs.

SPOILER AHEAD: Once Jacob's cold carcass vanishes from his slab, the movie is off and running and the next half hour or so is fresher than anything the American slasher genre has seen since the 1970s. The Soskas delight in their morgue's haunted house possibilities, turning out the lights, letting us see just a little, and startling us with sudden bursts of violence and volume. The film becomes a thrill-ride not solely through their expert modulation of their suspense pieces and shock effects, but thanks to the fine ensemble work of the cast, who invest the film with a lot of life before the machinations of death take over. Danielle Harris and Kaj-Erik Eriksen make a resourceful and touching screen duo, so much so that one is almost reluctant to praise them individually; together, they invest the film with that charge of pending life, pending disclosure, pending passion that is placed in perpetual peril. Katharine Isabelle steals the first third of the film as Tamara, one of those characters who get under our skin as an uncontrollable and not especially likeable force of nature, making her an unexpectedly dear price to pay. I don't think it will come as too much of a spoiler to mention there comes a time when we must kiss Tamara goodbye (there must have been jokes on the set), and when this happens, the whole tone of the picture shifts with startling gravity, the galloping good time settling down to keep its promised body count. If the film's first half is unexpectedly playful and buoyant, it is the second half that is most surprising and lingering in the mind, building to a spent and sobering conclusion that looks to me, unless I'm very much mistaken, like a conscious nod to Antonioni.

The problem with most slasher films is that they are designed without the necessary sense of mischief that characterized the capital works of Hitchcock, Mario Bava and John Carpenter in this area. By consigning their artistry to their makeup effects departments, these films often default to tedious exercises in nihilism. This was the fault with SEE NO EVIL, which indicated no value to the lives it was designed to mow down. What is exceptional about SEE NO EVIL 2 is that it uses the genre to celebrate life in all its variety, in laughter and shyness and moments of resolve, and the dance of love whether tentative or careless, until its story must finally keep its promises to the franchise and the genre - at which point we are made to feel something, repeatedly - in the final tally, perhaps something more than the genre has traditionally taught us to expect. Not everyone will approve of where this film ultimately goes, but its final port is, I think, a courageous one and wholly consistent with the Soskas' previous work. It is bound to provoke discussion.

SEE NO EVIL 2 comes to View On Demand outlets this Friday, October 17, and will then be released on BD/DVD by Lionsgate on October 21. It is a shame that a horror film so obviously designed to be enjoyed on the big screen is being denied a full theatrical release - that said, it is having its World Premiere theatrical screening tonight (October 15) at the Screamfest Horror Film Festival in Los Angeles.

I envy the experience that crowd will be having as they sit together in the dark, and the talk that will inevitably follow.


Sunday, October 12, 2014

Book Report: THE WORM & THE RING by Anthony Burgess

Finished reading Anthony Burgess' 1970 revised version of his 1963 novel THE WORM AND THE RING last night. This is one of his most difficult novels to find; the original British edition was withdrawn by its publisher and pulped when threatened with libel litigation from persons who knew Burgess at one of his earlier teaching posts - including, the biographies say, a fellow woman teacher with whom Burgess had been smitten. There never was an American edition. Finding an unpulped original edition will run you into the high hundreds or low thousands; even this less elusive edition doesn't come cheap, but I take my Burgess seriously.

Though meticulously observed and typically well written, with the author's attention bobbing and dipping from the surface of life to its most profound interior monologue depths, this is a disappointingly slight novel about the awakening, indecisive and dying passions among the students and teachers at a British public school. It juggles and toggles between four major and a couple of minor characters, some of whom are pointedly Catholic and ponder the disadvantages of this when one is assailed by the temptations of life. The book hits its high points during a field trip to Paris, where two married (but not to each other) teachers, tempted by temporary liberty while being entrusted to supervise a mixed group of students, but there is no sense of momentum to carry us along, and the book's comic, serious and philosophic selves are not smoothly blended. The last few chapters - where the revising took place, is my guess - feel rushed and alternately blunt and jagged as glass. The title is drawn from a rhapsodic latter chapter paragraph that maps the highs and lows of existence, from the rings of church bells and holy matrimony to the lowliest worm subsisting on death, but it also carries an ornery allusion to male and female sexual apparatus. The book is full of such ornery wordplay, as when one student improbably calls out "Merde de chat!" after tossing a ball to a classmate. ("Catch it" - get it?)

This was one of the five novels Burgess wrote in the year after being given his imminent death notice by a doctor who allegedly found in him an inoperable brain tumor; A CLOCKWORK ORANGE was another. The tumor turned out to have been a false alarm and a Burgess went on to write dozens of more books. I'm glad I was finally able to find and read it, but THE WORM AND THE RING is among the least of them.

Thursday, October 09, 2014

Reviewed: TOPKAPI (1964)

I have a potent childhood memory of seeing the trailer for Jules Dassin's TOPKAPI at my neighborhood theater, where I remember being similarly impressed by the otherworldly sights offered by the coming attractions for BLACK ORPHEUS and ATOMIC AGENT. With TOPKAPI, the trailer presented me with my first ever glimpses of Istanbul, that great Turkish city so memorably celebrated in Alain Robbe-Grillet's L'IMMORTELLE and various Jess Franco films - I was impressed by the dreamlike conflation of its crabbed wooden dwellings, its domed temples, its turbanned throngs and the deep blue of the Bosphorous, whose dense gelid complexion is like that of no other sea.

I didn't actually get around to seeing TOPKAPI until last night; it's newly available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber ($29.95) as part of their new Studio Classics line, licensed from MGM. It is a handsome presentation - 1.66:1, 1920x1080p - and the colors, which are important to the storytelling, are as rich as my childhood memory of its trailer, which is also included. Though it is mostly forgotten now, TOPKAPI was pretty big for an international production as the time of its first release in 1964; for some reason, it was not considered as a foreign film - the National Board of Review included it on their list of the year's top ten films; screenwriter Monja Danischewsky was nominated by the Writers Guild of America for their WGA Award for "Best Written American Comedy" (it seems anything but an American film!), and Peter Ustinov won his second Oscar (after SPARTACUS) for his supporting role as the timid "schmoe" Arthur Simpson, a performance he seems to have patterned in part on Bert Lahr's Cowardly Lion in MGM's THE WIZARD OF OZ.

A brilliante heist thriller based on Eric Ambler's Edgar Award-winning 1962 novel THE LIGHT OF DAY, TOPKAPI turned out to be one of those films whose far-reaching influence was explained to me as I watched it, as were the reasons why time has not been particularly kind to it. The opening titles are kaleidoscopic, a procession of spinning colors that reminded me immediately of the main titles of Mario Bava's DANGER: DIABOLIK (1967), another heist picture that was - I suddenly understood - showing its respect for this one. But what a more interesting film TOPKAPI would have been with Marisa Mell in Melina Mercouri's role! (Interesting echo of her initials there.) I have to assume that Mercouri is an acquired taste that I have somehow never acquired; I find her thick accent, gravelly voice, and hard features pretty much the antithesis of sexy, though the same act somehow worked for Eartha Kitt. But Jules Dassin - who was enamored with her, had guided her to an Academy Award-nominated lead performance in 1962's NEVER ON SUNDAY, and would marry her in 1966 - saw something in her that I, at least, do not. I could almost say the same for everyone else in the picture, because I count Maximilian Schell and Peter Ustinov among those actors for whom I've always felt no more than a watered-down liking, based in part on their being continually attracted to films that held no more than watered-down appeal for me. They are both on their best behavior here, however; I found them both likeable if not particularly compelling.

The story concerns the wish of criminal diva and self-described "nymphomaniac" Elizabeth Lipp (Mercouri) to own the jewel-encrusted dagger displayed as part of a stuffed sultan's wardrobe on display inside Istanbul's Topkapi Museum. She is particularly adoring of its handle, which sports four of the largest and most perfect emeralds in existence. (In a key scene, Mercouri becomes the centerpiece of a brain trust meeting by wearing an eye-commanding emerald green dress, replete with emerald-lacquered finger- and toenails.) After introductory scenes in which she breaks the fourth wall in the most annoying way ("Hey, Melina!" calls out an offscreen voice, "What are you doing?"), Mercouri's character uses her personal appeal to attract and hold a group of diverse men to steal the dagger for her, though she has already used her craft skills to execute a perfect replica of the piece. She recruits a former lover, Walter Harper (Schell). to mastermind the theft, which he conceives to do using only the help of a crew of amateurs, because using professional thieves would attract too much attention. Since the floor of the museum is tricked out to signal an alarm with the slightest amount of weight applied to it, the theft must somehow be conducted weightlessly, which is eventually done with the help of a circus acrobat and trapeze artist, Giulio the Human Fly (Gilles Segal). In short, using wires, he lowers himself into the room and intends to swap Elizabeth's replica with the actual treasure.

To render my most important criticism of the film, it is necessary to spoil the end result of its masterfully executed heist sequence - so stop reading this paragraph now, if you haven't yet seen the picture. There comes a point during the robbery, just as he lifts the precious dagger, that Giulio loses his balance, just before placing the false dagger inside the display case. Most viewers will be holding their breath by this point, and thus highly attentive to every small detail, so as he clutches both daggers to his chest, it's natural for the viewer to think "Oh no! He's going to mix up the fake dagger with the real one and all this will be for naught!" This would have led to a well-telegraphed but appropriately ironic ending for the film - our thieving heroes could have been let off the hook when their dagger was found to be inauthentic (think THE GREAT ESCAPE's tunnel diggers emerging on the very cusp of German soil) - but that is not how it plays out. Instead, as Giulio makes his escape through a high window, a bird flies unseen into the display room. In time, it eventually settles down on the floor, tripping the museum's alarm. The only problem is that the bird doesn't trigger the alarm until the thieves have voluntarily gone to police headquarters about another matter, which posits them in the best possible place to be at the moment the alarm goes off! They have an alibi. Nevertheless, the film then cuts immediately away to the entire group in prison, doing time. It is one of the most senseless and appalling cheats I have ever seen in a lifetime of watching movies.

The only explanation I can think of is that Dassin must have shot the film the way the footage suggests - that the thief accidentally absconded with the false dagger, a fact then slowly discovered by the would-be thieves in the aftermath of their efforts - but that the resulting film didn't test well, either with studio executives or test audiences, perhaps because they felt cheated or because they were concerned that letting the criminal gang elude punishment even for a foiled heist would seem highly immoral. It would be interesting to know how Eric Ambler navigated the story's final third.

If TOPKAPI ultimately breaks its trust with the viewer, its rollicking trek to that point of betrayal is diverting enough to make the film commendable. Every heist picture to follow was influenced to some degree by its example, and that influence is particularly obvious in the classic television series MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE and its later feature film franchise. Along for the ride are Robert Morley, Jess Hahn and Akim Tamiroff (as an openly homosexual lush), and the exotic location photography is the work of Henri Alekan, beloved for his exquisite work on Cocteau's BEAUTY AND THE BEAST and Clouzot's THE WAGES OF FEAR.

Wednesday, October 08, 2014

Nine Years A Blogger

My calendar tells me that it was nine years ago today when I had the sudden and suddenly acted-upon brainstorm to launch Video WatchBlog. According to Blogger's archive (which I fear may have lost track of some entries along the way), I have authored 1117 postings under this banner since that fateful day - 1,117 entries over the roughly 3,285 days (not counting leap years) that constitute nine years, which works out to something like one new entry every three days.

Wait, can that be true?
Is that really possible?
If that's so, why do I feel like such a slacker in regard to this blog? I suppose it's because I'm a busy guy - focusing mostly, these days, on extracurricular projects and Facebook - and, the faster one moves, the slower one's surroundings tend to appear.

It's been awhile since I've offered any kind of update, so here's what's going on. VIDEO WATCHDOG still exists (!) but, much as it did when Donna and I were working like crazy to produce the Bava book, it has gone off-schedule due to the work that we are obliged to do to produce our VW Digital Archive in time for its promised December launch date. We're two issues behind schedule at the moment (not good for us, since the print magazine remains our bread and butter), but we are confident there will be at least one more issue, possibly two, before the end of the year. One of these issues is fully edited and ready to go into layout; the other is a stack of solicited and selected material waiting to be edited and shaped into an issue. This has been such an incredible year for new releases that it pains me not to be keeping up with it, and I need to be more diligent about picking up some of that slack here during the time when our voice isn't being represented on newsstands. I intend to do this, so stay tuned.

I have been a busy boy during this (ha) off-time. I recently finished an elusive third novel I have mentioned here in the past, THE ONLY CRIMINAL, which you'll be hearing more about in the coming year. I've recorded some more audio commentaries - PLANET OF THE VAMPIRES for Kino/Scorpion (US) and EYES WITHOUT A FACE for the BFI (UK) - and there are tentative plans to do more for some exciting 2015 releases. I've actually had to turn down some tempting invitations of late, because these tracks take time to research and script and there simply hasn't been enough time. Most recently, I've been selecting and plotting a good deal of the supplementary materials for the Digital Archive, and this work is going to become particularly intensive now as I presently still have another hundred or so issues to fill before my deadline.

Completing THE ONLY CRIMINAL and feeling like a novelist again has prompted a renaissance in my reading. This year I reread, with great satisfaction and richer appreciation, Thomas Mann's THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN, which I first read in my twenties. Other titles I've read and enjoyed recently: Arthur Bernede's JUDEX (now available in an English translation), Peter O'Donnell's MODESTY BLAISE, Gaston Leroux's DOROTHY THE ROPE DANCER, Patricia Highsmith's THE ANIMAL LOVER'S BOOK OF BEASTLY MURDER, Joan Schenkar's deep dish biography THE TALENTED MISS HIGHSMITH, the first two Perry Mason novels by Erle Stanley Gardner, and VW contributor Brad Stevens' debut novel THE HUNT. I'm presently reading my mentor Anthony Burgess again for the first time in decades, having tracked down an affordable copy of his elusive THE WORM AND THE RING, and it's a particular pleasure to hear his voice ambling around inside me again. When I finish this, I'm looking forward to reading the recently translated final Robbe-Grillet novel, revisiting Henry Green, discovering Maurice Blanchot, pushing on to the second Modesty Blaise, and delving more deeply into Maurice Leblanc and Gaston Leroux.

I find that the two most important reasons to read fiction are that 1) it enriches the person you are with the wisdom and perspective of others, and the more personal 2) it makes me want to write more fiction myself. Accordingly, I'm presently about 60 pages into a new novel that I don't want to jinx by saying more about it.

In the midst of all this, I'm changing from PC to Mac with some difficulty - and, as if learning one new language wasn't enough, I recently acquired Rosetta Stone for French in the hope of gaining some access to the many cool French-language books lying around my house.

So, as you can see, there is much to do - but that's no reason not to expect further activity here as Video WatchBlog heads into its 10th year. As the old saying goes, "If you need to get something done, ask a busy person."    

Monday, October 06, 2014

Early French Pulp Fiction Findings

Here are some tidbits pertaining to early 20th century French pulp fiction in translation. A month or so ago, I found a used copy of a book by Maurice Leblanc entitled DOROTHY THE ROPE DANCER, which I enjoyed very much. I've now discovered that it is the same novel - even the same translation - as another Leblanc translation titled THE SECRET TOMB, a book that was already in my collection at the time I acquired DOROTHY (and not too cheaply). THE SECRET TOMB was the US publication title and DOROTHY THE ROPE DANCER (a precise translation of the novel's original French title) was the UK edition.

Black Coat Press is offering a newly translated Arsene Lupin mystery by Leblanc called THE COUNTESS CAGLIOSTRO, which they claim has never appeared in translation before. In fact, upon receiving the book, I quickly deduced that its first half had been previously translated as THE MEMOIRS OF ARSENE LUPIN - however, the second half, which they call COUNTESS CAGLIOSTRO'S REVENGE, is making its English debut here to the best of my knowledge. The entire book is a fresh and unexpurgated translation by Jean-Marc Lofficier, who is presently occupied in a new translation of Leblanc's classic Arsene Lupin mystery 813, which he tells me has entire chapters missing from its previous English translation by Alexander Teixeira do Mattos.

Friday, October 03, 2014

Killing Me Alphabetically With Their Songs

Tristan Risk in the "T Is For Torture Porn" segment of THE ABC'S OF DEATH 2.

I very much enjoyed THE ABC'S OF DEATH 2; this compendium of 26 horror shorts on the shared theme of violent premature demise is a fountain of macabre creativity, encompassing J-horror, black humor, political commentary, feminism, sexual politics, surreal satire, Bill Plympton animation and even stop-motion animation. My favorite segments were Robert Morgan's "D Is For Deloused" (the stop-motion one), Kristina Buozyte's "K Is For Knell", Jerome Sabel's harrowing "V Is For Vacation" and the closer, Chris Nash's deeply unsettling "Z Is For Zygote." Of course, your mileage may differ - there is a lot of variety here, and it's all very watchable. And, if you should ever find yourself thinking otherwise, the next segment will be along in a few minutes.

I was particularly looking forward to the contribution by AMERICAN MARY's Jen and Sylvia Soska - "T Is For Torture Porn" - but I found it a bit insubstantial even in this context. If it only felt slight, that would be one thing, but it also feels abbreviated (not necessarily their fault) - to the point of leaving one unsure even of how the story relates to its title. It doesn't help matters that it's placed alphabetically amid some of the most visually and conceptually ambitious segments in the feature. As it is, one feels rushed through a blunt sketch of humiliation and inexplicable mutant revenge that needed more development and pay-off. That said, on the plus side, it stars Tristan Risk (AMERICAN MARY's Beatress), who gives the two-hour-plus film the biggest shot of star power it has. Looking at first like a Margaret Keane ballerina, she emerges from some unpleasant manhandling with her dignity intact and, when she turns the tables on her abusers, she becomes the aurora of cackling horror that is the film's single most arresting and memorable image. The Soskas themselves also appear as witches in the backgrounds of Steven Kostanski's clever TV commercial spoof "W Is For Wish," which also features support from ANTIVIRAL's Brandon Cronenberg.

Not yet in theaters, THE ABC'S OF DEATH 2 premiered yesterday as a VOD title which you can find at the following outlets:

On Demand:
Amazon Instant:
Google Play:

Postscript 10/6/2014: 

Well, color me stupid. I was just informed that the last scene of the Soska Sisters' segment in THE ABC's OF DEATH 2 is shown after the movie's end credits. I dutifully watched all of the end credits - and with 26 different crews, they roll on eternally - but when the book appeared afterwards and faded to black, I assumed the movie was over and ran the renta-film back to watch my favorite segments again - not knowing there was still more to come. So I didn't see all of what I tuned in for. Of course, this may alter the tenor of my criticism - in fact, I'm told it makes sense of the "Torture Porn" title.

Thursday, October 02, 2014

Strictly Mono

I've always wanted to hear STRICTLY PERSONAL by Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band in its elusive mono mix, and now - after winning a copy of the first UK pressing - I've finally had the pleasure.

It was not what I expected, and not fully what I'd heard described; I'd read that it was a more powerful mix, the "truer" mix, if you will. But it sounds to my ears, unusually, like Bob Krasnow's stereo mix came first and that the mono version is a compression of that. It's usually the other way around with albums of this vintage, but stereo was becoming standardized by 1968 with some important albums (like Jefferson Airplane's CROWN OF CREATION) not even receiving a mono release.

The album's controversial phasing is still in evidence, it just doesn't travel anywhere, except maybe up and down along the Human Totem Pole. Some elements buried in the hectic stereo mix - cymbals, bass, background vocals - are squeezed closer to the fore, and so can be heard more clearly, while other instrumentation collides in its compression into a shambolic miasma of sound.

I need to spend more time with it. After one listen, I'm not sure that I don't prefer the stereo mix.