The Headless Eyes

Long ago(the mid eighties, before it became chic to diss bad movies and glorify their ineptitude), I caught this freaky flick the way nature intended, on a late-night horror show on an independent TV station. Even then, before the advent of our culture of irony, I knew I'd seen something so unrelentingly bad that it was remarkable. This movie concerns an artist who, while attempting to rob a sleeping woman to get rent money, has one eye put out by his victim. Driven insane, he goes about the unnamed city where he lives(New York), encountering various people, killing them, then attaching their eyeballs to mobiles and suspending them in blocks of acrylic. The victims include a boozy, bickering middle aged couple, a prostitute, and a middle-aged receptionist in an office building. The film has very little in the way of a narrative structure; our mad artist basically drifts around in a stupor, encountering people and killing them. This may be part of the director's masterplan; this mess apparently was some attempt to make a statement about the isolation of urban living. Viewers are treated to a bizarre dream sequence in which the artist staggers deliriously down canyon-like city streets barefoot and ragged, stopping to bang his fists against what appear to be the tall wooden doors of a church. Holy Fellini on Ripple! There's also a documentary-like sequence in which the landlady of one of the killer's victims is interviewed by a reporter and spouts bland, insincere compliments about a young woman she probably never spoke to("She was a nice girl, never any trouble," etc.)The entire film has a hollow, detached feel to it, something that can't entirely be blamed on the filmmakers' incompetence. Or maybe I'm just an optimist. Make no mistake, it is bad--crummy sound and cinematography, stilted dialogue(when available), superflous characters(the artist's wealthy former girlfriend, a young art student who wants to take lessons)who must have been inserted to give friends of the director parts, and artsy sequences that were intended to show the filmmaker's vision but only showcase his lack of ability. And this flick was on video at one point, but is undoubtably out of print now. If you have any independently owned video shops in your area and don't mind slumming(you know, the kind that have a back stock of wretchedly bad old videos), look for this one. Rent it, get some of your hipper-than-thou friends together, and inact your own episode of Mystery Science Theatre!

My review was written in March 1983 after a Greenwich Village screening.

"The Headless Eyes" is a 1971 gore thriller so obscure that no credits or details about it are listed in comprehensive horror encyclopedias. It is reviewed here, finally, for the record.

Set in New York, picture opens with lead Bo Brundin robbing a woman in her apartment to raise his rent money (he's a struggling artist). Defending herself with a teaspoon, the victim pokes his eye out, setting of Brundin's grisly mania of killing women and gouging out their eyes with a spoon of his own.

Generically related to the familiar mad sculptor/wax museum films, story has Brundin creating plastic artwork incorporating the eyes. Plentiful blood and adequately simulated gore account for the picture's X rating, awarded by the MPA A in 1973.

Technical quality is extremely poor, with a grainy blowup from 16mm lensing.

Director Kent Bateman did an about-face by helming the G-rated "Land of No Return" starring Mel Torme. "Eyes" is interesting for the earnest overacting of Brundin, who later moved up to a leading role opposite Robert Redford in "The Great Waldo Pepper".

My eyes! AAOOOAAAUUUGGHH! My eyes! That's what I screamed myself after watching this atrocity of a film. No gore, no effects, no acting, no sense. The movie opens with a guy robbing a woman's apartment while she sleeps, and when she wakes up and screams, he tries to silence her by getting on top of her and smothering her mouth and nose. Fortunately she grabs a nearby spoon on the nightstand and slides it along the intruder's temple – no wait, she actually penetrates his eye socket with it!?! With his eye popped out and dangling by its nerve, the man stumbles out of the apartment, out the hall, down the fire escape and crawls to a stop in the alley. The entire time howling the ever-looped line "My EYE! My eyyyyyye!" In case you miss him hearing it during this opening credit sequence, don't worry. It's played and replayed every 7 minutes for the rest of the film. During which time we see the main character (who happens to be a failed artist of some sort) finally get his comeuppance by cutting out the eyes of women and "freezing" them in blocks of ice (?) as art.

The highlight scene has to be the news report in front of the apartment of one of the killer's first victims. First of all (as someone else has pointed out), nobody shows the first hint of suspicion about the creepy-looking guy with the eyepatch being at the crime scene where the victim had her eyes cut out. Secondly, since when are funeral services held at a person's apartment building, complete with coffin being carried down the steps into the street? And lastly, you gotta love the reporter's interview of the folks. He asks one woman what she knew about the murdered, and her answer is pricelessly generic. Perplexed at the woman's response, the reporter realizes he has lost track of who the actor with the scripted line is amongst the crowd and openly calls out the improvised line, "I understand one of you knew the victim quite well" to find the proper response. Obviously, whoever it was that had the all-important line for the scene was stuck in traffic when it was filmed, because we don't get any good answer for the poor reporter.

Oh, and about the guy who plays the "eyeball killer". He's a lot of fun to watch. I always wondered what it would be like if a burned-out community theatre director played a C-horror serial killer. Now I know. With hilarious monologues and delicious overacting, he hams up everything beautifully in what can best be described as Shakespeare's "Othello" meets Lustig's "Maniac". From victim to victim to potential admirer to the incredibly lame finale, we know this guy's insane because he keeps rambling to himself that he's "got to finish" something or other. My guess is there's only about 15 copies of this movie left in existence. It needs to get snatched up quick and given the DVD treatment, so that low-budget horror fans everywhere can take it home and give it the MST treatment. It is indeed that bad.

A thieving artist has his eye gouged out by a spoon when trying to rob a woman's apartment. This nutter then goes round New York killing women whose eyeballs he removes, which he uses to create a new bit of artwork back in his studio.

The Headless Eyes is pretty much an example of grind-house exploitation fodder. It's a very rough and ready flick with minimal production values. But then I guess you would expect that for a grade Z movie. However, it does at least make some attempt at being dare I say it, artistic. There are occasional interesting shots, while the music fits with the feel quite well. It has a pretty scuzzy atmosphere overall and is another that utilises the very mean streets of 70's New York to decent effect. It's a clear precursor to Abel Ferrara's very similar movie The Driller Killer which came out a few years later. Unlike that one, The Headless Eyes never did make the video nasty list, which in some ways is surprising seeing as it was available in a striking video cover on home video in early 80's Britain and it also has considerably more mean spirited violence than many films that made up that list. That said it's not exactly impressive. Quite a lot of the time it's pretty terrible in fact, especially that opening looped use of the line 'My eye! My eye!' But the griminess and rough approach do sort of work in its favour some of the time, giving it a sleazy feel that's in keeping with its overall concept.

Whoa! This low-budget experiment in horror was directed by me, Kent Bateman, and with few funds, we did the best we could. Obviously, it wasn't fitted with enough blood and gore for the distributor, so the producer, Ron Sullivan, added some scenes. I only wish to make a comment on the assertion of a reviewer who erroneously referred to me, Kent Bateman, as aka Henri Pachard. Mr. Ron Sullivan, the producer of the film, aka Henri Pachard, producer of over 300 porno films, took my director's cut and added footage I never wrote or directed. This is just to set the record straight. Kent Bateman is not HENRI PACHARD. Please refer to my own IMDb listing. If you go to Henri Pachard's IMDb listing, you will see that he doesn't even list Headless Eyes as one of his films.