Buveurs de sang

What self respecting exploitation and horror fan is going to resist *that* title?

When a sadistic, Satan worshipping, hippie gang starts raising hell in a remote and tiny rural community, a local kid fights back by feeding them meat pies infected with blood he'd obtained from a rabid dog.

The result is an outrageous, wonderfully gory, trashy hippie horror hoot, directed for maximum shock value by David E. Durston. It definitely has a campy appeal as well as some twisted touches. The pace is always quite good, but things definitely get cranked up to a higher level for the intense and exciting finish. The cast, overall, is unsurprisingly not so hot, but Indian dancer Bhaskar plays his lead role with a delicious amount of creepy charisma. (And that's another thing: one's gotta love a character name like Horace Bones.) Highly noticeable among the supporting cast is delectable, uncredited young Lynn Lowry, in one of her earliest roles, a mute member of the gang. Director Durston also appears, uncredited, as Dr. Oaks.

Great music by Clay Pitts and enjoyable gore effects by Irvin Carlton are heavy assets. Along the way, we get to see a memorable decapitation, hands and feet chopped off, a pitchfork through the neck, a hanging, a stomach stabbing, self immolation, a gang member running around brandishing an axe, another one stabbed over and over again, and of course lots of foaming at the mouth.

Say what you will about "I Drink Your Blood", but one thing it's not is boring. It's extremely amusing throughout; in fact, it's downright hysterical at times. The influence of "Night of the Living Dead" is undeniable, but the truly wild 'n' crazy approach of "I Drink Your Blood" is all its own, and the story comes complete with the subtext of concerns of small town America over the whole hippie movement. Understandably a cult favourite, this does come highly recommended to newcomers to exploitation & horror flicks. Great fun.

Eight out of 10.

"I Drink Your Blood" (1970) is a film that I'd been wanting to see for a very long time. By now, what horror-film fan worth his Judith O'Dea Fan Club membership card has not heard of the movie in which a band of hippies dose Grandpa with LSD, and grandson Petey gives them rabies-infected meat pies in revenge? Only these aren't your typical peace, love and groovy button type of hippies, but rather Satan-worshiping, sadistic thugs, whose violent tendencies only get worse when they start to foam at the mouth... A film that is consistently suspenseful and that keeps the viewer riveted, this is actually a very well-done horror shlocker. The use of bizarro freakout music really helps to punch across the frequent scenes of carnage, and the picture grows increasingly wild as it proceeds. In one scene, a rabid hippy girl practices "free love" with a construction crew, infecting the entire bunch with the disease; a sadly resonant scene in today's AIDS reality. This film's debt to George A. Romero's "Night of the Living Dead," made two years earlier, becomes fairly obvious in the final third, when some defenders cower in a cellar to escape the crazed mob. And speaking of debts, could David Cronenberg have borrowed from this picture, when he was busy putting together 1977's "Rabid"? In any event, "I Drink Your Blood," while never overly gross, is surely not a movie for the faint of heart. It's no "Old Yeller" (1957), that's for sure! And wait till you see all the extras on this deluxe DVD. Fifty chapters for an 80-minute movie! Now that IS crazy!

Pete Banner (Riley Mills), his pretty older sister Sylvia (Iris Brooks), and their gramps, Doc. Banner (Richard Bowler), sure don't have much in the way of smarts.

When Sylvia catches hippie Andy (Tyde Kierney) stealing a chicken for use in a black magic ritual, she doesn't call the police: instead, she lets him take the bird, just so long as she can spy on Andy and his pals performing their ceremony. Spotted lurking in the woods by the naked Satanists, the girl is pursued, beaten and abused. In retrospect, calling 911 would have been the wiser option.

Gramps also displays a remarkable lack of common sense. When Sylvia is found in a catatonic state, he quite rightly thinks that the gang of hippies staying at the local deserted hotel are responsible. However, rather than contact the sheriff (does this family not own a phone?), the old man grabs his shotgun and goes it alone to have it out with the drug-crazed drop-outs. One doddery pensioner against eight devil-worshipping lunatics on L.S.D. -- unsurprisingly, it doesn't go well for Doc. Banner.

As for young Pete, he has to be the stupidest of the lot: in order to take revenge, the lad extracts blood from a rabid dog and injects it into a tray of meat pies that he sells to the hippies. Soon, instead of lawless Satanists, the town is under siege from crazed maniacs foaming at the mouth (I wonder how many tubes of toothpaste went into the making of this film) with a lust for blood who can pass on the deadly disease via a bite. Pretty soon, there are machete wielding maniacs everywhere!

Produced by exploitation movie legend Jerry Gross, and written and directed by David Durston, I Drink Your Blood is exactly what a drive-in/grindhouse movie should be: cheap, totally trashy, with over-the-top performances, gratuitous nudity and plenty of gore. It takes until the halfway point to really get into full swing, but when it does, the film is an absolute blast.

The mayhem starts proper as Manson-like cult leader Horace (played with wild-eyed relish by Bhaskar Roy Chowdhury) and his followers start to feel the effects of the rabies, black Satanist Rollo (George Patterson) being the first to go full-on bonkers, stabbing fellow hippie Shelley in the gut with a dagger and then hacking off his foot with an axe. The rest soon follow suit, with cultist Molly (Rhonda Fultz) infecting a whole crew of construction workers (with rabies, although they might well have contracted something else as well), making matters even worse. Meanwhile, Sylvia and uninfected Andy (now a couple, the girl having bounced back from her earlier ordeal) and Pete try to avoid being sliced and diced until construction site foreman Roger Davis (John Damo) can alert the authorities.

I Drink Your Blood was one of the first films to be rated X by the MPA based on its violence, and its easy to see why: there are plenty of shocking scenes of brutality, with an evisceration, an uncredited Lynn Lowry (who appeared in George Romero's similarly themed The Crazies) cutting off a woman's hand with an electric carving knife, a pregnant woman impaling herself with a stake, self-immolation, a pitchfork in the throat, a sword in the back and out of the mouth, and my favourite moment, the shock decapitation of a major character, the victim's head carried around by the killer. As I watched the violence escalate, my rating kept getting higher and higher!

A neat downbeat ending tops off what is a hugely entertaining exploitation classic that demands to be seen by any self-respecting gore-hound or trash movie aficionado.

I caught "I Drink Your Blood" at a Times Square theater in New York in 1971. I was writing for a long-defunct but excellent film magazine called Filmfacts, where we covered every film given a theatrical release in the U.S.--running the gamut from the boxoffice blockbusters to the schlockiest of drive-in quickies. Filmfacts was a scholarly publication--most of our subscribers were libraries. For each film, we provided a complete list of cast & credits, a summary of critics' reviews, one-to-four stills (if available), and a thorough plot synopsis. Which is why I saw "I Drink Your Blood," expecting another piece of low-budget garbage, and instead being treated to one of the most truly horrific (and little-known) thrillers ever produced. Even though the obviously heavily-edited R-rated version was pretty strong stuff, it still put me through the wringer and I recommended it to the other members of the magazine's staff, who all loved it. The plot has been sufficiently detailed by other reviewers on this invaluable database, but, aside from urging anyone with a cast-iron stomach to sample this unique, feverish, gorgeously photographed nightmare of a movie ("Night of the Living Dead" please step aside), I'd like to clarify the conflicting accounts of the prints of the movie. The one I saw at the theater was rated R by the MPAA. A few months later, I happened to meet a lovely actress named Iris Brooks, who had given a first-rate performance in the film. We became friends and, on the anniversary of the film's completion, Iris invited me and some friends to attend a cast & crew party held at a Times Square theater around midnight (after the theater was cleared out) and the projectionist could show "I Drink Your Blood," followed by a catered but unpretentious party in the downstairs lounge (apparently, everyone involved with making the movie, its grisly subject matter notwithstanding, had a great time and had formed many friendships during the film). However, the print that was screened was not the butchered 'R'-rated version I'd originally seen but the director David Durston's (a sweet, supremely intelligent, friendly man, and a first-rate filmmaker as far as I'm concerned) unedited cut. It was perhaps 8 minutes longer than the censored version shown at theaters. The violent scenes were considerably more graphic and gory, and there were also some innocuous nude scenes that apparently gave Jack Valenti cardiac arrest, hence the butchered version that the distributor was forced to release. I've read that the original, uncut version has finally been unearthed and will be released on DVD. I heartily recommend that any serious movie buff should buy this film (in whatever version, it doesn't really matter) as soon as it hits the video stores. It's a true 'sleeper' that deserves to be re-discovered and appreciated even 30 years after its initial, shoddily-handled brief release. "I Drink Your Blood" is some kind of deranged masterpiece but, despite its controversial elements (even today, it's pretty far out there), it's never offensive and the people who made it are one of the nicest and most talented group of individuals it's ever been my pleasure to meet!

I recently saw this forgotten gem, and I had a great time! Satan-worshiping hippies, a dead goat, lots of rats and plenty of nudity;what's not to like? Well, there were a few things I didn't like, sad to say. First on the list is the "Score". Whoever did this should be locked in a tiny room and forced to listen to it for seventeen hours in THX. Basically, it's a car alarm and drums looped over and over at increasingly harsh frequencies, making the audience long for the sweet low tones of a dentist's drill. Second on the list is the distracted acting. It's as if everyone in the town was eating prozac like skittles between takes. Aside from those two peeves, I had a blast watching it, and so might you, just remember to use the mute button. You'll need it.