The Hollywood Strangler Meets the Skid Row Slasher

At this point in his filmmaking career, Ray Dennis Steckler had become obsessed with making his movies for as little money as possible. What he does here is an amusing study in minimalist filmmaking. It doesn't matter if it wouldn't exactly have been up for any Oscars, it remains a curious, watchable oddity for its mercifully brief 71 minute running time. As one might guess, there's not a whole lot of story here. The movie concerns two characters who we know are destined to come together at some point. Pierre Agostino is The Hollywood Strangler, a photographer by trade who's come to regard his models and other assorted young women as "bad" and in need of punishment. Yeah, we've seen guys like him in movies like this before. Carolyn Brandt, Steckler's ex-wife and frequent collaborator, is the other character whom we follow around, a bookstore employee who, when she's not staring off into space or jogging on the beach, is offing drunken bums with her handy switchblade. It's only a matter of time before these two like minded individuals are going to make the move of introducing themselves to one another. In the meantime, it's important to note that Steckler wasn't too interested in using microphones, so he filmed this as a virtual silent movie, a bold move for any exploitation film made during this time period. (Stock) music, sound effects, dialogue and narration were all added later. And what a hoot that narration is, hilariously written and hilariously performed, adding some spice to a leisurely paced pile of cinematic trash. The major point of interest with this thing is viewing it as a series of snapshots of a particular place - Hollywood Boulevard and its series of adult businesses - during a specific era, in this case, the late 1970s. That's really what makes it fascinating, although what's good for a great deal of entertainment are Agostino's expressions and Brandt's *lack* of expressions. Adventuresome sleaze lovers are certain to find this an acceptable diversion; others beware. It comes complete with numerous breast shots, shots of legs kicking as female victims get killed, various sexy outfits, and a generous helping of that endearingly tacky bright red movie blood. Seven out of 10.

Hollywood, 1979. It doesn't get much sleazier than this.

Jonathan Click (perhaps a long lost brother of Mad Dog Click?) is a pigeon petting loner whose bitter memories of some girl named Marcia lead him to strangle hot young "models" in Hollywood. At the same time, frumpy used bookstore owner Carolyn Brandt is getting sick and tired of all the winos who stumble into her store to swig from their bottles, so she rams a switchblade into their throats. Jonathan becomes infatuated with Carolyn and spends much of the film stalking her around Hollywood. When he gets up the nerve to go into her store, they spend a silent eternity staring at each other over the racks of three ring binders and LPs for sale, but never speaking. When Carolyn isn't knifing bums or staring into space with a never-changing expression of boredom mixed with slight gassiness on her face, she's running up and down the beach in an unflattering jogging suit. There's no police work here, no world weary detectives trying to catch Jonathan or Carolyn before they can strike again, just two mediocre killers going about their daily routines. But, there's also a lot of gratuitous nudity provided by some halfway pretty girls, so it's not a total loss for those who enjoy a little T&A.

This is one of Steckler's most depressing films, and I'm not sure if it's the lack of dialog, the repetitive "action" or the subject matter that makes it so. Maybe Ray was just in a crappy mood that week. Fans of his early films - Rat Pfink, Incredibly Strange Creatures and Thrill Killers - may be disappointed with this one, but the commentary by Joe Bob Briggs on the newly released DVD version is very enjoyable, funny and informative and makes the film much more bearable.

Well, what can I say about this one? It follows a serial killer and his killing while he falls in love with a woman that is also a serial killer.

But it is good? 5/10, it's ok to watch but nothing special. There is so many better serial killer movies from the 70s. But it's ok enough to watch one time when you are bored. I like that it follows the killers mind and perspective, gives the movie a little bit more depth why he kills then just random killing. Did I expect more from this? No, not really. I did think it would be a love story but hah, that I totally got it wrong!

The acting is ok, scenes are ok, movie overall is ok.

I slum a lot, impulsively watching cheap movies. Sometimes, I'm pleased to find one that really is interesting or challenging or intelligent almost in spite of itself. "Attic Expeditions" is one such.

This isn't, though I appreciate the idea. Lets suppose all men are stranglers who hate women while being attracted to them. And all women are bitches who see men as insects that need to be killed.

In such a world, men and women do couple. What then?

A small matter of interest is that the woman in this case is both the star and sponsor. One wonders: if you had one movie you could make, what would it be. This is her answer.

The exemplar for this type of movie is the wonderful "Oscar and Lucinda," though it deals with obsessions and compulsions other than death. As with Cate Blanchett, the woman here is redheaded and something is made of that: hair unfurled in beach breeze.

But the execution is dead. They killed it.

Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.

This is an example of proper 42nd Street grindhouse z-grade schlock. It's a pretty sleazy tale about a couple of serial killers - a male strangler who targets young women and a female slasher who kills old male jakies. The story is nothing but a succession of murder scenes and that is really about it. It is proper low rent stuff with no synchronised sound meaning there is a lot of (tedious) voice-over narration from the Strangler. Its sheer scuzziness does generate a fascination of sorts but its complete lack of production values and talent ensure that it has some serious inbuilt limitations.