Muñecos infernales

When i was a kid (maybe 4 or 5 years old) i see this movie on TV. I can clearly remember the "human dolls": their childish movements, their grotesque faces, and abode all ... their lethal weapons: Big Needles really sharpened!!!. B&W films got some special charm in the horror and sci-fi genres. It catch you because (i think) is more like as the dreams are made of or showed us when we sleep (or does anybody here can remember a dream in glorious technicolor???). Anyway, the fact is that "Muñecos Infernales" are the ground zero of many mexicans in the strage and weird wolrd of gore and horror film ... a masterpiece, and a very good example of the melting pot that became the mexican films in the 50's and 60's. (voodo, catolicism, a police plot, weird science, romance and a touch of involuntary humor ... a nice blend!)

This film begins with an unmarried couple by the names of "Karina" (Elvira Quintana) and "Armando Vales" (Ramon Gay) who are both medical doctors and have been invited to attend a dinner with four distinguished men and their families. When they arrive they learn that these four men have just returned from a trip to Haiti and while there they secretly witnessed a voodoo ceremony which was strictly forbidden to outsiders. Having already committed one serious breach of etiquette, they make it even worse when one of them steals a sacred idol from the Haitian temple to add to his personal collection of artifacts. Needless to say, this infuriates the voodoo priest "Zandor" (Quintin Bulnes) who places a terrible curse upon all four of them-and their families as well. As it so happens, however, Karina is not only a doctor of medicine but a scholar of ancient cultures and the occult and this gives her special insight into the horrible events that begin to take place to the four men involved in the theft. Now rather than reveal any more I will just say that this was an unusual film in that the lead actress (Elvira Quintana) plays the role of the expert and the villains (for the most part) are essentially 2-foot manikins who come to life as midgets in order to do the bidding of the Haitian voodoo priest. Yet, as ridiculous as the plot may sound and as poor as the special effects were, the surprising thing is that this film actually wasn't as bad as it should have been. Of course, a great deal of the credit has to go to Elvira Quintana who essentially stole the show with her beauty and charm. Be that as it may, while this certainly isn't the best "Zombie movie" ever made it was good enough for the time spent and for that reason I have rated it accordingly. Average.

In CURSE OF THE DOLL PEOPLE, a group of explorers abscond with a sacred idol from a voodoo priest, ticking him off royally. Said black arts practitioner then sends out his living dolls to assassinate these blasphemers! In addition to the murderous dolls, there's a 7' tall, flute-playing zombie, and the voodoo dood's secret lair, complete with cobwebs and skeletons.

This film has a dreary, ominous atmosphere, and, as silly as it may sound, those little needle-wielding dolls are pretty creepy! Highly entertaining Mexican cinema...

1960's "The Curse of the Doll People" ("Munecos Infernales" aka Infernal Dolls or Hellish Dolls) is definitely one of the more memorable Mexican entries from the pen of Alfredo Salazar, brother of actor/producer Abel, and author of the Aztec Mummy trilogy plus "The Vampire's Coffin," "The New Invisible Man," "The Man and the Monster," "The World of the Vampires," "Doctor of Doom" and "The Wrestling Women vs the Aztec Mummy" (at the helm was director Benito Alazraki, later efforts including "Spiritism" and El Santo's starring debut "Invasion of the Zombies"). Held over from the Aztec Mummy series is actor Ramon Gay, who was shot to death by a jealous husband shortly after filming concluded, while Quintin Bulnes essayed similar voodoo master roles in "The Living Coffin" and a pair of Boris Karloff Mexi-movies, "Snake People" and the very similar "House of Evil" (more murderous dolls at work). Haitian voodoo rituals are discussed rather than seen to start, as a quartet of adventurers make the fatal mistake of stealing a precious voodoo idol to hightail it back home to Mexico, only for the mesmerizing priest to follow, placing a curse upon them and their families to begin at the stroke of midnight on a certain date. Incredibly, the main culprit who previously boasted of adding the idol to his collection grasps his chest and expires at the exact time predicated, and by the half hour mark all four despoilers have perished, each succeeding doll emerging with their features. The Devil Doll Men are nattily dressed in suits and ties, using a long poison needle like a piercing knife, standing about three feet tall, about the size of a ventriloquist's dummy (Richard Gordon's "Devil Doll" would not be made until 1963). Viewers would forever remember the lifeless staring masks, a fine makeup job reproducing the four actors, right down to the beard, mustache or glasses; we actually see one attack a cop before being run over, a kind of autopsy showing its severed head with glowing eyes conducting its hypnotic effect on the female lead (Elvira Quintana), the chest cut open prior to purifying fire destroying the remains. These tiny assassins must obey the master or face severe punishment, delivered in a small crate to their intended victims by a silent zombie complete with shriveled face, another nice touch that delivers additional chills. The only real detriment, apart from the 13 minutes of footage cut from the AIP-TV print (reduced to 69 minutes) is the script's plodding nature, but once the dolls start walking things improve dramatically. The casting of gorgeous top billed Elvira Quintana as a voodoo expert was also an achievement for such an obviously low budget production, it was her sole genre credit in a career that abruptly ended with her premature death in 1968.

I was looking forward to this Mexican horror film - released on DVD not by Casanegra but rather by BCI as a double-bill with NIGHT OF THE BLOODY APES (1969), which I should be getting to presently, and where the two films are accompanied by their alternate English-dubbed variants - because of its similarity to Tod Browning's THE DEVIL-DOLL (1936), but it turned out to be something of a disappointment!

Even if the villain of the piece is appropriately flamboyant and the fact that the voodoo expert in this case is a woman is, in itself, a novelty with respect to this type of film, it's all rather uninspired - with even the trademark atmosphere coming off as somewhat flat! However, my biggest gripe with the film concerns the titular creatures: their movements are so awkward and sluggish, and their appearance (obviously midgets wearing a none-too-convincing mask!) so poorly realized that the suspense in their numerous attacks (and the terror they're supposed to evoke) is greatly diluted!!

The script, too, is something of a hack job, as we basically get an uninterrupted succession of people being rushed to hospital after an attack by the dolls (made in the image of previous victims - with the funniest-looking being one sporting a large pair of glasses!) where the doctors are apparently dumb-founded as to the source of their 'ailment'!! Equally ridiculous is the hulking zombie whom the sorcerer uses to do his evil bidding: how he's never noticed by anyone out on the streets as he's carrying the dolls (in large packages) is anybody's guess; incongruous, too, is the fact that the sorcerer has relocated to Mexico from Haiti (going after the infidels who stole the all-important statue of one of the gods of his sect) but, apparently, has contrived to bring along with him a whole set of exotic paraphernalia to decorate his new residence - including an enormous sarcophagus for the zombie to sleep in!

Still, even if there are several long-winded explanatory scenes, some moments are undeniably effective - for instance, the doll autopsy scene, with the creepy effect of its eyes (after the head has been disembodied) suddenly starting to gleam...even if the scene does include a hilarious shot of a male doctor closely inspecting a pair of tiny boots!; and the climax - as is typical of many of these films, it all ends in a blaze (and where one reluctant doll proceeds to exact revenge on its master!) - is also nicely handled.

The extras are minimal (only a still gallery - I have little use for the English-dubbed version prepared by K. Gordon Murray, especially since it's cut by some 13 minutes!) and the print quality is quite poor, when compared to the Casanegra releases...