Un baquet de sang

For years, I've been trying to convince myself that renting A Bucket of Blood (1959) wouldn't be a waste of money. On the one hand, it's a Roger Corman picture; on the other hand, it's a Roger Corman picture. He did some great work - Rock n Roll High School, Little Shop of Horrors, some of his Poe adaptations, etc.

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

"A Bucket of Blood", for all it's cheapness, contains some great dialogue. I suspect that John Waters paid close attention to the snappy repartee delivered by the entire cast of this little gem. How can you not love a movie that has lines like: "Take me to some cool blue place...and gas me!". A total hoot, all the way around.

Purportedly made in five days, A Bucket of Blood is one of those films that just seems to grow on you after each viewing(beginning with the first!). Dick Miller plays his most substantial role in his long and varied career as a very stupid, amoral busboy for a beatnik cafe. His name is Walter Paisley and he wants to "fit" in with all the other cool cats at the cafe like the pompous Maxwell who recites poetry, the two clowns higher than kites that just take space and never order any coffee, the cafe owner Leonard that wears the trappings of being a beatnik but is more concerned about making a buck, the lovely artist Carla that wants to be surrounded by creative and artistic people, and a host of other beatnik types. Walter, by a set of bizarre and ridiculous circumstances, takes a cat he accidentally killed and covers it with clay. He brings it in to his "friends" and that laud him as a great and gifted artist. From there Walter works his way up to human sculptures. The story is filled with loads of black humour including a heavy dose of fun poked at the beatnik culture. Miller plays Paisley wonderfully with a certain innocence. All the acting is pretty good with a few stand-outs. Anthony Carbone as Leonard adds a lot of credibility to the film with his more realistic performance, and he has some of the best lines and facial expressions. Barboura Morris is beautiful and credible. But the top acting honors easily go to Julian Burton(where is this guy now?) as Maxwell. He is the poet that makes every word sound as if art were dripping from his tongue. He recites lines like, "Life is an obscure hobo bumming a free ride on the omnibus of art" and "ring rubber bells, clang cotton gongs, strike silken cymbols." He is wonderfully over-the-top in his whole portrayal and always makes me laugh with that garbage he utters. Director Roger Corman has little budget to work with here, but he makes a minor masterpiece with what he did have to work with. Walter Paisley is Born. And he lives on in video and dvd!

This delicious black comedy is one of the films that Roger Corman used to make before he got a bigger budget and went on to do fantastic adaptations of Edgar Allen Poe stores, starting with 'The Fall of the House of Usher', the year after this was made. A Bucket of Blood stars Dick Miller, whom you may know as 'that guy from Gremlins', which Dante almost certainly cast him in due to his affiliation with Corman, as he plays a character named Walter Paisley in both The Howling and A Bucket of Blood. Anyway, in this film he has been cast a busboy for a public house, who is also an aspiring artist. However, Walter lacks creativity and is looking for an idea when he inadvertently kills his landlady's cat, which he then proceeds to cover in plaster and present as a piece of art. The art world is filled with weirdo's, and because of that, this sculpture becomes an instant hit and Walter is now very much 'in'. One masterpiece isn't enough, however, and Walter must add more to his collection to gain the fame he wants...but where is that next masterpiece going to come from?

Aside from being a cheap black comedic exploitation thriller, A Bucket of Blood is also a commentary on the art world. Anything can pass for a masterpiece when it comes to being 'creative' (shown by that strange woman with a bed in real life), and a dead cat certainly fits that bill. The film also comments on the fact that one masterpiece isn't enough for an 'artist' to cement themselves in the annals of history and thus they need several. Dick Miller's portrayal of the aspiring artist at the centre of the tale isn't award worthy, but he does a very good job. The character is naive, with an air of pathos, spanning from a need to be accepted, and Dick Miller captures this essence so well that you cant imagine anyone else in the role. I really enjoy seeing Miller on screen and it's a shame he didn't get more roles as he has a lot of potential for playing characters of this sort.

This film is an obvious predecessor to many other indie themed exploitation thrillers, such as The Driller Killer and is important for that reason. The jazz styling makes a nice atmosphere for the movie and it helps to capture the pseudo-cool jazz trend that is often associated with art in the late 50's and early 60's. And, aside from everything I've said so far; this film is just really good. It's a lot of fun and many of things shown on screen are really funny. There's also some lovely death sequences including, most notably, someone being cut in half with a buzz saw. Naturally (considering this was made in 1959), we don't get to see the death, but it still happens and it's not Corman's fault he couldn't show it. This film is a damn good time and it's a shame that it hasn't gained itself a more established following the forty-five years since it's release. Recommended viewing.

A Bucket of Blood (1959)

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.