Malatesta's Carnival of Blood

If any of you doubt that people used to eat a lot of acid in the 1970's as well as during the 1960's, go find MALATESTA'S CARNIVAL OF BLOOD. Not only is this one of the most mind-bending films ever made by people who were either completely insane OR tripping their head's off, it is also one of the most unique American shockers made during the horror boon years of the early 1970's when US filmmakers struggled to keep up with their European counterparts. Here's one that did.

THE PLOT: A nebbish small town family goes to work at a carnival in some decrepit, decaying upstate armpit half-city that is actually a front for a perverted cult of fanatics who feed on human flesh and watch old silent movies down in the catacombs below the carnival. One by one the family and their friends are lured to their deaths, and eventually eaten. I guess.

This is another one of those movies that isn't really about it's story: This one is about creating atmospheres or moments out of piles & piles of used second hand rubbish, like sheets of mylar, hand made puppets, old junk you'd find along the river down by the train tracks and lights filtered by patterns made out of colored bubble wrap. Made on a budget of about 1/100th your average "low budget" shocker these days, MALATESTA'S CARNIVAL OF BLOOD is a triumph of ephemeralia as production design, and set in the cold blooded creepiest carnival or fairgrounds ever built -- That it was a real world pre-existing locale makes it even creepier. Everything is old, rickety, about ready to fall apart, shabby, unkempt, peeling with old paint and badly in need of some shoring up. "Accidents, we've had lots of accidents" relates Mr. Bean, the carnival's oldest employee who sports a hook for his right hand.

Yet people still flock to this "carnival" looking for fun: You can play dunk Bozo or shoot ducks for prizes, there is a tunnel of love, and a roller coaster that people are just losing their heads over. A hard working handyman keeps the grounds clean with his litter stick, picking up trash, drink cups, bloody remains of people torn apart for lunch, and a smile on his face that is the very essence of "frightening". He loves his work though, and like all of Malatesta's employees enjoys a special place that is more like a family than just a job, much like how that nice man Charles Manson's family was more than just a mob of brutal, psychotic, homicidal maniacs. Malatesta himself is an odd bird, not much of a businessman and more like an impresario, or figurehead of some kind of underground society, I can't make up my mind.

It's strange to think that THE EXORCIST was made the same year as this movie: The two couldn't be further apart as far as aesthetic exercises in creative design. One is a literal depiction of evil that spells it all out & leaves nothing to the imagination, the other is all about creating visual paradigms with layers of meaning that go beyond just what you see or hear. You watch THE EXORCIST and (if you are like me) cannot help but sit there & tick off the cinematic tricks doubtlessly being used to create the appearance of fire and brimstone ... You watch MALATESTA and you wonder not only how the hell did they stage what you see, but how the hell did anybody think this up?? Hazard and chance as production design elements perhaps, tons of blotter acid maybe, but the film is *SO* tightly scripted and choreographed that it cannot possibly all be improvisation.

It's like a big hippie movie from hell, with trippy sights, weirdo sound & music effects, singing baroque cannibals (who are pretty good, actually), double meaning laden dialog that never quite sounds like people just delivering lines, all topped off by an ending so open that no sequel was even needed: There is a Carnival of Blood in every small or large town just waiting to be discovered and explored by people who might need to vanish. Feeding the hungry is also a national past time -- why not do it ourselves? the movie asks. And while sure, this is one of the creepiest, most atmospheric and potentially unnerving non-Hollywood horror movies ever made it is also an incredible study in how you can make movies for just peanuts. Watch the lady washing her hair in a mud puddle or the finale calliope organ number with the bendy mirrors, and tell me you have ever seen anything quite like it. While it might make a great double bill with CHILDREN SHOULDN'T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS (another Manson-inspired ultra low budget regional American horror classic) there isn't another movie to my knowledge that looks like this. And at about 74 minutes it's just the perfect length, with excellent pacing and nary a dull moment.

You may not understand what you are seeing but you sure won't be bored by it, and it's most assuredly a "love it or hate it" kind of experience: You'll either say this film is just too bizarre and nothing happens or you'll wish that there were more bizarre movies with even less happening like it to enjoy. There aren't, so live it up.

10/10

Malatesta's Carnival of Blood was thought to be a lost movie until 2000, when the director eventually released the film on DVD. Some might argue that it would have been better if the film had stayed lost, but then fans of trippy z-grade garbage would have been deprived of what has to be one of the weirdest movies of all time.

The film takes place in a dilapidated carnival whose owner, the enigmatic Malatesta (Daniel Dietrich), appears to be a total stranger to the term 'health and safety'. The rides not only look like death traps, they ARE death traps, the people who go on them winding up as tasty snacks for the ghouls who live in the caverns below, or simply losing their head (as one poor guy does while on the rollercoaster!). The newest employees at the carnival are Mr and Mrs Norris (Paul Hostetler and Betsy Henn), and their teenage daughter Vena (Janine Carazo), whose job it is to run a shooting gallery. However, the real reason the Norrises are there is to try and find out what happened to their son, who went missing while at the carnival. Friendly carnie Kit (Chris Thomas) tries to help Vena stay alive for the duration, but the attraction's vampiric manager Mr. Blood (Jerome Dempsey) has his heart set on drinking her blood.

Crazy camerawork, eccentric performances (a wild-eyed litter-picking ghoul, singing cannibals, a transvestite fortune teller, and Hervé Villechaize as creepy dwarf Bobo), incomprehensible dialogue, and set design that consists largely of assorted junk, and large sheets of plastic, aluminium and bubble wrap: Malatesta's Carnival of Blood is quite unlike anything I have seen before, and quite unlike anything remotely resembling coherent film-making. The action randomly veers off into nightmarish surreality at the drop of a hat, and features bizarre characters who drift in and out of scenes, while director Christopher Speeth exercises his creativity with his oddball aesthetic combined with disconcerting sound design (the weird visuals including back projection of horror classics The Phantom of the Opera and The Hunchback of Notre Dame). There's even some fun gore to be had: the aforementioned rollercoaster decapitation, death by litter-picking stick, a juicy spike in the eye, and the half-eaten body of some poor schmuck.

The result is an undeniably unique experience, but so is pouring a bucket of fire ants down your trousers.

3.5/10, rounded up to 4 for Villechaize talking in rhyme.

The horror films I enjoy usually fall into one of two categories: excellently made, or not well-made but still enjoyable in a trashy or kitschy way. This is a rare example that straddles the line between the two.

The film was obviously made with very little budget and by people with only minimal experience in film. But the cast and crew still had experience in the art world. They had good ideas. They knew how much a movie could be driven by its aesthetics.

To start with the negatives: the pacing is off, the acting is sometimes amateurish, and while the dialogue is okay, the script is hard to follow. You don't walk away understanding much regarding character motivation, or how action A led to consequence B.

But those are secondary concerns if a film is pleasurable overall, which this one is. The framing and lighting are disquieting throughout, with some dream-like scenes producing eerie effects that I've never quite seen before. Certain images--such as a closeup to a distorted view of the main girl's head wrapped in plastic, or a tracking shot of a bleeding man being slung across a ceiling in some kind of otherwise purposeless contraption--will haunt the view regardless of whether or not she could follow the plot.

The film's strongest aspect is probably its sound effects and minimalist score, which a blu-ray extra explains were made by a duo consisting of the director's older brother and a man who had been a military audiologist (seriously). The "weaponized" sound effects overcame technical limitations to produce a simulacra of bass-heavy "fear notes," the likes of which were copied and stolen by hundreds of horror pictures.

Overall, I'd consider this an important film if it were more well-known. I'm not exactly a horror buff, but I'm somewhat knowledgeable and I'd never heard of it until it was released on Blu Ray by Arrow Films (it's not even mentioned in the Psychotronic Video Guide). But its effects upon trash and horror cinema are palpable, and it's plenty enjoyable for anyone who has a moderate interest in such films.

An off-road ramshackle amusement park is maintained and operated by an odd assemblage of resident vampires, ghouls, zombies...and Herve Villachaiz. When night falls and the gates are closed, these fun-loving fiends retreat into their subterranean home within the murky depths below the park. A strange family unit of sorts, they enjoy watching old horror classics while they wait like hungry spiders for juvenile delinquents and random miscreants to illegally enter the carnival grounds.

This divergent, psychedelirious amateur freefall is suffused with murky atmosphere and strange, unearthly distortions...a cheap and gangly ghoulash prepared with resourceful creativity on a piggy-bank budget(the interesting practical FX make good use of plastic tarp, bubble wrap, and other industrial materials). It is, to say the least, comparable to little else.

MALATESTA'S CARNIVAL takes a prominent seat at the table of supremely WTF cinema...an esprit-de-corps shared by DEATH BED: THE BED THAT EATS, GODMONSTER OF INDIAN FLATS, BLOOD FREAK, et al. You'll either like it or you won't, but you *WILL* remember the experience..

7/10.

The Norris family get jobs working at a seedy old carnival as a cover for searching for their missing son who disappeared after visiting said carnival. Eccentric manager Mr. Blood turns out to be a vampire while the evil owner Malatesta rules over a gaggle of ghastly ghouls who watch silent movies when they aren't feasting on human flesh.

Director Christopher Speeth grew up in the world of theater, and at college was trained in the tradition of the documentary. He made one film called "Sugar" following two very different diabetics, and then "Dona Nobis Pacem", an anti-Vietnam War film featuring footage of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy. If he had done nothing else, this footage would have made him immortal, even if not necessarily famous.

By pure coincidence, Speeth met Richard Grosser on an airplane. Grosser had a strange background, starting out as a violin virtuoso and then getting mixed up in the development of the ENIAC and UNIVAC computers. Grosser proposed the idea of a horror film to Speeth, with his thought on the matter being quite simple: under the current rules, an investment in a film could be used as a tax shelter. The film was birthed as a write-off!

Playwright Werner Liepolt was hired to construct a script. He started with legendary cannibal Sawney Bean (also a source for "Texas Chainsaw massacre" and "Hills Have Eyes") and then incorporated circus elements. Allegedly, Speeth's house had a fortune telling machine and merry-go-round horses converted into chairs, so Liepolt assumed this was the sort of thing Speeth would like to see on screen. Liepolt was very conscious of the words he used, with "carnival" literally being a celebration of meat.

Much of the film's dreamlike narrative came about during post-production. The movie was edited again and again, which produced a non-linear quality to the picture, sometimes intentionally and sometimes not. If you like cut and dried plots, this might not be for you.

You might wonder, if this is a good film (and it is), why have I not heard of it? Well, there could be many reasons, but the biggest is simply that the film was not available. Apparently after a screening or two, it ended up in Christopher Speeth's attic, collecting dust until 2003. At that point, Windmill Films released it on DVD, but it quickly went out of print. Don't be ashamed if you never heard of Windmill Films, because no one else has either.

This film is presented on glorious blu-ray as part of Arrow Video's American Horror Project (Volume 1). Of the three films in the set, it appears to be the leanest on special features, with no audio commentary listed. But this is just an oversight, as we do have one, from Richard Harland Smith of Video Watchdog. Furthermore, we do have brand new interviews with director Christopher Speeth and writer Werner Liepolt which should provide viewers with plenty of insight. (If you're still hungry for more, track down a copy of the December 2009 issue of Video Watchdog and check out the in-depth article from Shaun Brady.)