RIP Jacinto Molina / Paul Naschy 1934 - 2009

Praise is too often quick to go to actors who hide every trace of their craft. But once in awhile, an actor comes along who revels in the traditions of greasepaint and spirit gum and the idea of putting on a show. Such a man was Paul Naschy, who, under his birth name Jacinto Molina, wrote a series of unabashedly imitative scripts that made him, for the better part of 40 years, the cinema's torchbearer for classic horror and its second "man of a thousand faces."

Molina wrote scripts to carve out a place in the cinema for himself as an actor, but it took awhile before he could successfully attach himself to them as director. The films he directed (INQUISITION, PANIC BEATS, THE CRAVING) are not his best, though the little-seen and unexported El huerto del francés (1978) and El caminante (1979) are particularly good. His most capable and stylish collaborators were Javier Aguirre (who helmed the notable COUNT DRACULA'S GREAT LOVE and THE HUNCHBACK OF THE MORGUE), whose success rate was doubled by Carlos Aured (HORROR RISES FROM THE TOMB, HOUSE OF PSYCHOTIC WOMEN, THE MUMMY'S REVENGE, CURSE OF THE DEVIL). He played the doomed lycanthrope Waldemar Daninsky as many as 13 times, though, rather in the manner of Michael Moorcock's Jerry Cornelius, the character was prone to appear in different countries, timelines and circumstances. It should also not be forgotten that, as he forged his screen persona in a country then under the fascistic rule of Generalissimo Francisco Franco, it constituted a revolutionary act.

The real Naschy is always conspicuous in his work, and his filmography at times unreels like a psychosexual playground in which he indulges all of his fantasies about cinema, women, monsters and violence. One is always conscious that the topless love scenes so frequent in his work were there more for his own pleasure than for any relevance they had to the stories at hand, or even to his films' exploitability, and some of his films contain instances of truly wicked sadism -- the back-peeling in THE WEREWOLF AND THE YETI stands out in memory, as do some of the exploits of his incandescently evil Mr. Hyde in DOCTOR JEKYLL AND THE WEREWOLF. As his career matured, Naschy became more open about being the true focal point of his own Universal-derived mythos. In HOWL OF THE DEVIL (1987, which he directed himself) he played a sexually tormented actor, as well as the classic movie monsters populating his son's fantasy world. The 2004 film Rojo sangre (pictured above) cast him in a role perhaps closer to his true self and exploited, to a degree, Naschy's own bitterness over having his vast contribution to the popular Spanish cinema overlooked, and becomes the closest thing the Spanish cinema has produced to a self-reflexive horror film along the lines of Michael Powell's PEEPING TOM. Naschy's depression over his country's neglect of his accomplishments was a festering hurt that he was not shy about exploring in his autobiography MEMOIRS OF A WOLFMAN, but many later awards and recognitions for his life achievement came his way.

It is perhaps a kindness that Paul Naschy passed away before the release of Universal's remake of THE WOLF MAN -- in which Benicio del Toro and Rick Baker are sure to take the torch from Waldemar Daninsky's furry paw whether it be warm or cold -- and poetic justice that he sounded his last howl on the night of the full moon.

Viva Naschy! Viva BCI! Viva Lipinski!

I couldn't resist bringing you some images today from the new BCI Eclipse release of León Klimovsky's VENGEANCE OF THE ZOMBIES, written by Jacinto Molina and starring his alter ego Paul Naschy in no fewer than three roles. Fans love Naschy's werewolf performances, but I think this Devil character is the most fearsome image he ever conjured onscreen, with his cruel Mr. Hyde from DR. JEKYLL AND THE WEREWOLF a close second. In his autobiography MEMOIRS OF A WOLFMAN, Naschy couldn't decide whether or not this image had sprung from a nightmare or the effects of hashish. I never pegged this award-winning weightlifter as a stoner, but one feels grateful for whatever indulgences may have opened the portals to this particular vision.

The movie is actually not one of Naschy's best; in my opinion, it's kind of a mess -- a throw-it-against-the-wall-and-see-what-sticks conflation of Hammer's STRANGLERS OF BOMBAY and THE DEVIL RIDES OUT, Franco's A VIRGIN AMONG THE LIVING DEAD, and masked killer gialli with some cheap voodoo thrown in. Naschy principally stars as an Indian mystic, looking a lot like Marlon Brando in CANDY, but he also turns up as his own facially fried brother, Kantaka, who presides over the decapitation of a live chicken. (That's right: Kantaka... fried... chicken.) If you think that's funny, you should hear the score by Juan Carlos Calderón, with its stupefying "dow dow d-d-d dow dow" theme, or thrill to the Scotland Yard dialogue scene that runs for a full six minutes, or get a load of the scene where a morgue attendant is actually stabbed in the throat by a can of Amstel beer.

Uncut Spanish elements for Naschy's films are non-existent, but BCI Eclipse has successfully reconstructed an "uncut" VENGEANCE OF THE ZOMBIES by wedding the export version with nudity to the Castilian Spanish soundtrack for the first time. The transfer is standard ratio, handsomely mastered in high definition (which doesn't mean it's in HD), and can be viewed in Castilian with English subtitles, or in English mono or English surround. I found the English dub a considerably livelier experience. Naschy himself introduces the film with the sort of portentous blarney that would have made William Castle feel proud, and the disc extras include alternate "clothed" versions of some scenes, the Spanish title sequence, Spanish and English trailers, and a wonderfully thorough stills and poster gallery compiled by MUCHAS GRACIAS SENIOR LOBO! author Thorsten Benzel. Incidentally, this book is a must for every Naschy fan: a paperback documenting stills and poster art from numerous countries pertaining to every Paul Naschy film. Most are in black-and-white, but each section is introduced with poster art in full color. The text is in German, but the book features a concise appendix that offers all the important details in English. If you miss out on this, you will regret it.

The cherry, whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles on this release are courtesy of Mirek Lipinski of Latarnia Fantastique International, who provided the generously informative text found inside the fold-out color brochure included inside the keepcase. Mirek answered every question that I had about the film and its cast, put the picture into context, and revealed some very interesting background stories that made me want to watch the film -- or at least portions of it -- again. It's a pleasure to read liner notes know that no one writing in English could have done the job better, though it's surprising to see FRANKENSTEIN'S BLOODY TERROR's Aurora de Alba, who strips down for her death scene, referred to as "a perfect MILF." Regardless, the notes are scholarly and BCI's Naschy series would seem to be in the best possible hands. I'm now looking forward to enjoying this title's companion release, NIGHT OF THE WEREWOLF -- which, if memory serves, is a much better movie and one of the best Naschy werewolf pictures.