The She Beast

1965's "The She Beast" (La Sorella di Satana or Satan's Sister) arrived at the tail end of Barbara Steele's reign as Italy's Gothic queen, working with first time director Michael Reeves, who used $17,000 of his own money to finance the picture (total cost was $38,000). The 21 year old novice had made quite an impression on producer Paul Maslansky the previous year, doing second unit work on Christopher Lee's "The Castle of the Living Dead," earning his chance on a script conceived under the pseudonym 'Michael Byron,' with assistance from Roger Corman regulars Charles B. Griffith, Mel Welles, and F. Amos Powell, all appearing on screen in various roles (the shooting title was "Etruscan Ruins"). Modern day Transylvania was the setting (filming in both Italy and Yugoslavia), actor/dancer Jay 'Flash' Riley in impressively gruesome makeup as 18th century witch Vardella, not dispatched before placing a curse upon the descendants of her executioners; 200 years later the arrival of newlyweds Veronica (Steele) and Philip (Ian Ogilvy) spur her revival by taking possession of the bride after their car is directed toward a forbidding lake. The two stars share great chemistry, as relaxed and witty as they are believable, inquiring about the Draculas shortly before meeting the current Count Von Helsing (John Karlsen), who laments that the last Dracula is long gone, only remaining to keep a watchful eye out for the witch on the 200th anniversary of her demise. With her dark tresses parted in the middle, Barbara Steele proves as alluring in modern dress as in period Gothic, even displaying a bit of skin during her love scene with Ogilvy, with only Italy's "An Angel for Satan" and West Germany's "Young Torless" (as a prostitute) preceding her stepping away from the spotlight for a few years. She'd finish the decade with one British title, Boris Karloff's "The Crimson Cult," then an American TV movie shot in Spain, Janet Leigh's "Honeymoon With a Stranger," choosing a carefully selected array of cult items over the next several decades, achieving further acclaim as producer on two Dan Curtis miniseries, 1983's THE WINDS OF WAR and 1988's WAR AND REMEMBRANCE. Reeves would of course be best remembered for his final two features, Boris Karloff's "The Sorcerers" and Vincent Price's "Conqueror Worm," after which he suffered an accidental, fatal overdose combining barbiturates and alcohol in a lifelong struggle against depression (contrary to some reports, Gordon Hessler had already completed Price's "The Oblong Box" well before Reeves' untimely death). First time viewers may be disappointed at the preponderance of humor at the expense of horror, in particular the Keystone Kops-like chase for the finale (apparently put together with little input from Reeves, lacking the budget to make any changes), a rush to the lake to exorcise the revived witch. After working in Greece on Roger Corman's ATLAS, screenwriter Charles B. Griffith stayed behind for the odd film here and there, joined by fellow madman Mel Welles to punch up the Communist satire with one unsubtle, gruesome touch, the bloodied sickle tossed to the floor alongside the infamous Soviet hammer (one memorable exchange has the local police chief complaining that a corpse is obstructing justice by being dead!). The casting of boyhood pal Ian Ogilvy was a no brainer for Reeves, here making his feature debut as newlywed husband Philip opposite the ravishing Steele, available only for a single day which lasted an exhausting 18 hours. The US ads from Europix International compared the titular beast to both Dracula and Frankenstein, though her rampage only claims a single victim before spending most of the film in a harmless coma from Von Helsing's narcotic injections.

"In the 18th Century, a terrible witch is punished by the townspeople she terrorized by being drowned in a lake. Two hundred years later, a newlywed couple is driving near the lake when their car crashes into the water. The husband comes to the surface unharmed but his young bride emerges from the water possessed by the spirit of the witch, looking for revenge upon the descendants of the townspeople who had killed her," according to the DVD sleeve's synopsis.

Writer/director Michael Reeves's "The Sister of Satan" is an exasperating feature. After showing great promise with "Witchfinder General" (1968), Mr. Reeves died of a drug overdose. Although this film (aka "The She Beast") should not be considered representative, the opening and a few other scenes are nicely done. The idea to bring the story into the "Dracula universe" was a good one - but, the comic aspects do not fit. Worst of all, the sizzling pairing of Ian Ogilvy (as Philip) and Barbara Steele (as Veronica) is given short shrift.

***** The Sister of Satan (1966) Michael Reeves ~ Ian Ogilvy, Barbara Steele, John Karlsen

The director of "Witchfinder General/Conquering Worm" first effort is a minor classic. Barbara ("Black Sunday") Steele is quite captivating as the young wife who's corpse get possessed by a 200 year-old buttugly witch. But it's Mel ("Little Shop Of Horrors") Wells who steals the show playing a supersleazy, alcoholic commie hotelowner. The lurid performance equals that of Donald Pleasure in the nasty "Mania/Fiends And The Flesh". And look for that infamous death-by-hammer-and-sickle scene...ghoulish fun to the max! Thrillseekin' horroraddicts should be able to get their jaded kicks with this low budget (the monster make up is a bit tacky) cheerful and wicked gem. Why waste your time with pathetic 90's hollywood horror when films like this exist. By the way, Vincent Price once said that Reeves was the best director he ever worked with!

An English couple are vacationing in Communist Romania... don't ask me why. After a bad run-in with a local innkeeper appropriately named Groper, they run their car into the lake. The man (Ian Ogilvy) is saved, but pulled up with him is not his wife (Barbara Steele), but a 200-year old witch named Vardella.

Now, the first thing you might be asking is this: why would Dark Sky Films, distributor of some of the finest gems in horror and exploitation, release a film that has been in the public domain for years and not very widely praised? There's a very good answer to that: because Dark Sky, among their many other talents, takes one man's trash and turns it into another man's treasure. They somehow uncovered an original print, and have given us the film in beautiful widescreen with a very nice, crisp picture... and if that isn't enough, they tracked down Ogilvy and Steele for an exclusive audio commentary. (Also, if you're like me, you'll appreciate the subtitles.) Can you beat that?

Seriously, though, the film isn't even bad. The characters are interesting and the story has a smooth flow. Really, it's the characters that sell this film. VonHelsing is an interesting modern incarnation of his namesake. The Romanians have a great comedic value with their communist jokes. After one man is found dead, a policeman turns to another and asks, "Is he talking?" The other says, "No, he's dead." So the first one says, "That's obstruction of justice." And then shortly after we get a chase scene that some critics have frowned on for its silliness, but I wonder if they hadn't been paying attention -- the cops were hilarious throughout the film.

Writer/director Michael Reeves has to be given plenty of credit for this. In his early twenties when he made this (before moving on to his masterpiece, "Witchfinder General"), it's a good tale in the same vein as later Hammer Horror stories. The only real complaint I have is the top billing for Barbara Steele, who only appears in the film for maybe fifteen minutes. I understand her popularity at the time, and she's something of a horror icon, but it's a bit misleading to make her so prominent in the advertising.

Thank you, Dark Sky, for taking what was a film dead in the water and reviving it. Modern horror fans may find it a bit slow and bulky, but anyone who loves the classics will find this appealing with plenty of good scenes and grisly visuals -- eye gouging, impalement... witches beware! A truly enjoyable experience.

Michael Reeves' official directorial debut – after his stint as an assistant director on CASTLE OF THE LIVING DEAD (1964; his modest contribution here is, erroneously, sometimes exaggerated by his cultists) – is, likewise, an Italian production of the Horror variety. Filmed under the title of REVENGE OF THE BLOOD BEAST and officially released in Italy as SISTER OF Satan (although, LAKE OF Satan, is apparently yet another name attributed to it over there!), the film's best-known moniker is SHE BEAST – which is how it has been released on DVD, first by the budget outfit Alpha and, more recently, by the more respectable label Dark Sky Films.

Even though Reeves' entire cinematic output consists of merely four titles, he managed the enviable feat of working with one genre icon apiece: Christopher Lee in CASTLE OF THE LIVING DEAD, Barbara Steele in SHE BEAST, Boris Karloff in THE SORCERERS (1967) and Vincent Price in WITCHFINDER GENERAL (1968), his last (and, undoubtedly, best) work. Actually, the contribution of Barbara Steele – the then-reigning 'Scream Queen' of Italian horror movies, ever since her breakthrough dual roles in (yet another legendary genre director) Mario Bava's BLACK Sunday (1960) – to the film under review amounted to just one 22-hour day of the 18-day shooting schedule; her agent at the time, David Niven Jr., only alerted her of this clause on the day before she came on the set and, although she was a trouper, Steele had a major falling-out with producer Paul Maslansky…although, judging by the cordial and lively Audio Commentary on the Dark Sky DVD, any animosity between the two has long since faded away! Joined in this discussion is the film's nominal lead and veritable Michael Reeves mascot, Ian Ogilvy; they had been schoolmates in their teenage years and Ogilvy would go on to star in all of Reeves' directorial output.

The film opens with a witch-hunting sequence that anticipates the more notorious ones in WITCHFINDER GENERAL; the victim of the 'trial by water' (or, more exactly, stake through the heart!) has to be one of the ugliest female monsters to appear on celluloid and, in fact, was actually portrayed by a colored dancer sporting heavy – and highly effective – make-up…with hideous tooth-work and shriek-laden voice to match! Incidentally, one of the actor's winding down activities on the set (according to Ogilvy) was trying to hitch rides from passing cars in full "She Beast" get-up…obviously, to the stopping drivers' eternal chagrin! The cast also includes three other moderately familiar names of the period: John Karlsen (as the modern-day eccentric witch-hunter Count Von Helsing {sic}!), Mel Welles (as a boozing lecher of an inn-keeper) and Lucretia Love (appearing – in one of two surprisingly racy scenes in the film – as an innocent villager assaulted by Welles, just before he gets his own comeuppance from the rampaging titular creature); curiously enough, the other brief spot of nudity is provided by La Steele herself, during a night-time lovemaking scene with husband Ogilvy, that is witnessed by 'peeping tom' Welles – who is subsequently beaten up within an inch of his life by the understandably incensed guest!

Apart from Welles, the American side of the production is represented by producer Maslansky and second-unit director/uncredited co-screenwriter Charles B. Griffith; film connoisseurs will immediately associate the first with the POLICE ACADEMY franchise and the second (like Welles himself) with the earlier days of the Roger Corman stable. Despite both Maslansky and Griffith having worked on some intriguing fantasy stuff (CASTLE OF THE LIVING DEAD itself, 1972's DEATH LINE, 1975's RACE WITH THE DEVIL and 1977's DAMNATION ALLEY, as well as two 1957 Corman productions, NOT OF THIS EARTH and THE UNDEAD respectively), unfortunately, it is their comedic vein which comes to the fore here in a truly misjudged and overstretched climactic "Keystone Kops"-type slapstick car chase (seemingly needed to pad out the running time to feature-length)! This not only involves an uncredited Maslansky himself – as one of three bumbling local cops, anticipating the similarly inept pursuing duo in Wes Craven's LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT (1972)! – in a couple of mildly amusing pratfalls, but also the faintly surrealistic and completely illogical presence of an unknown motorcyclist that insistently reappears throughout this sequence!