Ein schwachsinniger Hilfskellner wird als Künstler für eine mit Gips überzogene tote Katze gefeiert, die fälschlicherweise für eine geschickte Statuette gehalten wird.Ein schwachsinniger Hilfskellner wird als Künstler für eine mit Gips überzogene tote Katze gefeiert, die fälschlicherweise für eine geschickte Statuette gehalten wird.Ein schwachsinniger Hilfskellner wird als Künstler für eine mit Gips überzogene tote Katze gefeiert, die fälschlicherweise für eine geschickte Statuette gehalten wird.
- Oscar
- (as John Shaner)
- Mrs. Swickert
- (as Myrtle Damerel)
- Lou Raby
- (as Burt Convy)
- Art Collector
- (as Bruno Ve Soto)
- Sylvia
- (as Lynne Storey)
- Coffee-House patron
- (Nicht genannt)
- Singer-Guitarist
- (Nicht genannt)
- Art Exhibit Patron
- (Nicht genannt)
- Beatnik Saxophonist
- (Nicht genannt)
- Art Exhibit Patron
- (Nicht genannt)
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But he also directed the Terror which, well, I wasn't too fond of.
In any event, I discovered a fifty cent copy of the Bucket of Blood DVD at the local Target and, well, it was hard to pass up. You can't get a candy bar for fifty cents these days, let alone a DVD, so I didn't have much of a choice.
It was a wise investment. A Bucket of Blood, though not nearly as fun as those aforementioned Corman classics, has plenty of wonderful set-pieces, some hysterical dialogue, and a terrific performance by Dick Miller (B-movie actor best known as Mr.
Futterman (sp?) from Gremlins and the owner of a bookstore specializing in paranormal literature in The Howling).
Like most other Corman pictures, this one is more humorous than horrific. Of course, that's what makes them fun. Not to give too much away, the story follows Dick Miller as Walter Paisley, lowly busboy at a Beatnik Coffee Shop, who discovers through an interesting encounter with Frankie the Cat his inner artistic genius.
I'd really like to tell you more about Frankie the Cat because, well, it's the most absurdly funny thing I've seen in a long time. That would ruin the surprise though. Instead, I'll tell you about the naked lightbulb hanging from the ceiling in Dick Miller's apartment. For some reason, when knocked off-kilter this lightbulb, dangling from a cord as lightbulbs in dive apartments are wont to do, moves back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, creating a nice, eerie effect as the shadows jump around. Yet, and maybe this was because I had been drinking before I sat down to watch the movie, the lightbulb, in the scene involving Frankie the Cat never seems to stop its pendulum-like performance. The violent oscillation never seems to diminish. I feel as though that's defying several laws of physics, but I could be wrong. Anyway, it was a nice touch and I found it entertaining.
8/10
BUCKET OF BLOOD is near-perfect. Which is saying a lot when you think of some of Corman's films. BUCKET OF BLOOD stars Dick Miller in his only starring performance. He plays a struggling busboy/artist, whose only real desire in life is to impress the local beatnik girl (the talented Barboura Morris). Miller works at the same coffee house that Morris frequents. The place, run by Anthony Carbone, features poetry and art. There are also pretentious beatniks, drug dealers, and undercover detectives.
I don't want to give much else away, aside from that the film itself has a life of its own. The energy is high, the camera and editing work are effectively polished, and the dialogue is uniformly crisp. Corman's direction is fluid. Next to LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS and maybe a few of his Poe films, BUCKET OF BLOOD is his best film.
Dick Miller, has never received such a juicy part to play as this. He handles the jokes well, and his interplay with Carbone, and especially Ed Nelson, is great.
The sets are cheap, the conclusion is rushed, but BUCKET OF BLOOD made me giggle, and unlike some horror films, it is supposed to.
Beats, Artists, and a Sweet Tempered Killer
This is a romp, a riot, and a rebellious ripoff. Most of all it's rotten, so rotten it's terrific. It's a must see, in a way, for anyone into the beats, and into C-grade horror films.
Is it good at all? Yes, yes! As clumsy as it is, Bucket of Blood has an innovative (if ridiculous) plot. It has an unlikely hero who meets an unlikely demise. It has real poetry, and real hep cat talk (of the lowest form, but hey, show me more fun). It has mood, heroes and villains, a chase scene (on foot), stupid broads and stupid cats and funny situations.
One key to liking this kind of thing is to remember that the filmmakers, even if on a starvation budget, are no idiots. Director Roger Corman most of all. They know they are making a laugh-out-loud send up of horror films, and they know the beat slang is absurd, and they know the plot is crazy, man. So you can have fun with them, and really get a good laugh, and a little chill, and a weird reminder that in some sad sad happy way, this is what it was like in smaller city coffeehouses where Ginsberg never set foot but where Corman and crew did. Even the photography, led by Jacques R. Marquette (of Attack of the 50 Foot Woman fame, quote unquote), is really worth watching.
There is nothing like it.
Dick Miller plays the busboy in one of the few feature roles I remember seeing him in. The mix of emotions he imbibes into his character is a highlight of the film. At one moment he's confused, the next a raving lunatic. Corman kept the screenplay simple and it works. I've seen too many low budget directors try to creative effects, etc. that their budgets just do not allow. Corman doesn't do this. This one is definitely recommended to fans of the 50s quickie horror films.
Wusstest du schon
- WissenswertesAt the time of its original release there was a promotion in the newspaper's movie section advertisements that made the offer, "If You Bring In A Bucket Of Blood To Your Local Theater's Management (Or Ticket Booth), You Will Be Given One Free Admission."
- PatzerWalter accidentally kills a cat in a wall with a knife, but when he takes it out of the wall, it is stiff, as if it has been dead at least an hour.
- Zitate
[first lines]
Maxwell H. Brock: I will talk to you of Art, for there is nothing else to talk about, for there is nothing else. Life is an obscure hobo bumming a ride on the omnibus of Art. Burn gas buggies, and whip your sour cream of circumstance and hope, and go ahead and sleep your bloody heads off. Creation is, all else is not. What is not creation, is graham crackers; let it all crumble to feed the creator. The Artist is, all others are not. A canvas is a canvas or a painting. A rock is a rock or a statue. A sound is a sound or is music. A preacher is a preacher, or an Artist. Where are John, Joe, Jake, Jim, jerk? Dead, dead, dead They were not born before they were born, they were not born. Where are Leonardo, Rembrandt, Ludwig? Alive! Alive! Alive! They were born! Bring on the multitude, the multitude of fishes: feed them with the fishes for liver oil to nourish the Artist, stretch their skin upon an easel to give him canvas, crush their bones into a paste that he might mold them. Let them die, and by their miserable deaths become the clay within his hands that he might form an ashtray or an ark. For all that is comes through the eye of the Artist. The rest are blind fish, swimming in the cave of aloneness. Swim on you maudlin, muddling, maddened fools, and dream that one bright and sunny night, some Artist will bait a hook and let you bite upon it! Bite hard - and die! In his stomach you are very close to immortality.
- Alternative VersionenThe West German dubbed version produced by Schongerfilm, "Das Vermächtnis des Professor Bondi" (The Legacy of Professor Bondi), features a unique 9-minute long prologue. Ostensibly created to pad out the film's runtime to make it more suitable for playing in German theaters, it turns the film into a sequel to Das Kabinett des Professor Bondi (1953), which was released there as "Das Kabinett des Professor Bondi" (The Cabinet of Professor Bondi). The sequence follows Professor Henry Bondi (ie. Professor Henry Jarrod, the character originally played by Vincent Price), who survived his death in the earlier film, but now feels the ravages of time encroaching upon him and his Marie Antoinette wax figure. As a storm brews outside his dilapidated castle, he reluctantly decides that his last living relative, Walter Bondi (ie. Walter Paisley), must continue his work. Neither the crew who produced this prologue, nor the actor who plays Professor Bondi, have been identified.
- VerbindungenEdited into FrightMare Theater: A Bucket of Blood (2016)
- SoundtracksThe Ballad of Tim Evans
("Go Down, You Murderer")
Music & Lyrics by Ewan MacColl
Performed by Alex Hassilev
Top-Auswahl
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Details
Box Office
- Budget
- 50.000 $ (geschätzt)
- Laufzeit1 Stunde 6 Minuten
- Farbe
- Seitenverhältnis
- 1.85 : 1