Sharks’ Treasure (1975)

More than one shark flick swam into theaters in 1975. Released a few months later than that other one was Sharks’ Treasure, the final film of the do-it-all director Cornel Wilde (The Naked Prey). Far from delivering an iron-hot cash-in, the aging auteur approached the oceanic adventure the only way he knew how: utter earnestness. So earnest is the film, Oscar Wilde — no relation — would look at it, nod his head and say, “Important.”

William Grefé’s Mako: The Jaws of Death, this is not.

Crusty skipper Jim Carnahan (Wilde) is approached by a young man (John Neilson, Terror at Red Wolf Inn) about chartering his boat to a spot where a Spanish galleon’s gold is rumored to be sunk in the sands of the Caribbean floor. After an initial and impulsive turndown, Carnahan agrees and takes out a dangerously large loan to fund the mission. Among the hired crew is a Black Irish diver (Yaphet Kotto, Across 110th Street).

As the title has it, the waters between the boat and the loot are shark-infested. And as the title doesn’t have it, sharks aren’t the dominant threat. That honor belongs to a dinghy full of escaped convicts who, led by the appropriately named Lobo (Cliff Osmond, Sweet Sugar), hop aboard to hold our heroes hostage. Still, if you don’t think the threats won’t overlap, you’re chum.

Featuring sharks and otherwise, the underwater footage is real and it’s spectacular — not a surprise when you consider the man-vs.-nature themes of Wilde’s No Blade of Grass and the aforementioned Naked Prey. While the fearsome finned fish clearly were the front-and-center selling point of Sharks’ Treasure, the movie would be compelling enough without it. With a character like Wilde on hand to scowl, bark and show off his sexagenarian physique — including a pre-Palance demo of one-handed push-ups, it would be hard not to. —Rod Lott

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Nosferatu in Venice (1988)

I’m very much a lover of Werner Herzog’s works, having seen most of his collaborations with Klaus Kinski except, oddly enough, Nosferatu the Vampyre. Though it’s highly acclaimed and critically loved the world over, I instead watched the lackluster sexual improprieties of the pseudo-sequel, Nosferatu in Venice, where the famed monster (still played by Kinski) goes on an Italian adventure! Pass the marinara, paisans!

Or not. Employing five different directors — including Starcrash’s Luigi Cozzi and Kinski himself — instead we’re left with a mostly drab and melancholy journey through the stench-filled canals of Venice, with grandstanding actors like Christopher Plummer and Donald Pleasence taking on questionable roles in their battle to not only take on evil at its root, but apparently stave off real-life hunger in the lean ’80s.

As an obvious Van Helsing knock-off, Plummer comes to a Venetian house filled with statuesque young women, square-jawed young men, wholly off-putting crones and, of course, Pleasence as a hungry priest who seems to have been paid in craft services. Somehow, they resurrect Nosferatu (Kinski), now with a bitchin’ haircut the ladies seem to lust after.

Apparently, the only way to destroy the suave creature is for him to fall in love with a virgin, which, if I might be blunt, is pretty stupid. Still, with large holes blasted in his chest by the cowardly lot of supposed heroes as they run, the film comes to an ending I’m sure is supposed to be meaningful, but honestly seems more like a quick shot of Kinski on the way to his plane as villagers go pheasant hunting.

Final writing and directing credit was dropped in the lap of Augusto Caminito, who I guess did the best job he could with the big ball of film stock he was handed. Still, the ultimate shocker of this horror flick is the music by Vangelis that, while it don’t class up the movie, at least attempts a sheen of sorts almost comparable to Chariots of Fire. Almost. —Louis Fowler

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Witchboard (1986)

Beginning in the mid-’80s, I’ve been attracted to steamy, sultry redheads, with lusty firecracker Tawny Kitaen constantly on cable television. From hair-metal videos by Whitesnake to raunchy flicks like Bachelor Party, that crooked smile and ample, um, talent made her this young person’s dream girl — or one of them.

But when my parents brought home Witchboard — then a new release! — that crush reached its youthful erectile zenith. And while I find the horror flick to be somewhat boring today, I can honestly admit that Kitaen, though not in the movie as much as I remembered, is still a welcoming presence, David Coverdale’s penis be damned.

Linda (Kitaen) is throwing a party and her boyfriend, Jim (Todd Allen), decides to get wasted and be the world’s worst significant other — at least that’s what I’ve been told from my own mirroring actions. When a partygoer whips out his Ouija to contact the small child he’s been talking to — already weird if you ask me — strange things begin happening, like building sites caving in, metal barrels collapsing and masked men with axes splitting dudes right in the skull.

While the sight of a possessed Kitaen clad in a men’s suit and mimicking a middle-age male voice is both tantalizing and worrisome for a variety of reasons I should probably see someone about, the mostly boring film does offer three explosive finales I didn’t see coming. So thanks for that, director Kevin Tenney: I liked the wedding one best!

Two years later, Tenney directed Night of the Demons. I only saw it recently, because when it came out, my mother forbid me to rent it, because in her words, watching it would “invite the devil in the house.” —Louis Fowler

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Hitcher in the Dark (1989)

Hey, I understand we all gotta start somewhere. It’s just unfortunate Josie Bissett had to start her career not with TV’s hit Melrose Place, but a few years earlier with Umberto Lenzi’s Hitcher in the Dark. I’m guessing the movie is one she’d rather go unseen … and now that I’ve seen it, I understand that, too.

Angry at catching her jock boyfriend (Jason Saucier of producer Joe D’Amato’s Top Model) for flirting with another woman, Bissett’s Daniela ditches their campsite to return home. She happily accepts a ride to the bus station from the boyish Mark (Joe Balogh of Lenzi’s Black Demons) and his comically large Winnebago. En route, he offers her a Coca-Cola with Rohypnol — I believe it was branded “New Coke” back then — and she blacks out, eventually coming to handcuffed in the RV’s bedroom.

A less likable Christopher Atkins with T-shirts tucked snugly into belted khakis, Balogh’s Mark intends on keeping Daniela captive, because she reminds him of his beloved dead mother. To feed his own delusion, he takes scissors to his prisoner’s hair, making Daniela look like Mom — or, judging by Bissett’s terrible wig, Mary Martin in the 1954 Broadway musical production of Peter Pan. He does this as she sleeps, which is the state she’s in when he shoots nude Polaroids — an act icky on its own, but unintentionally more unpleasant since Bissett, although of legal age, looks to be about 15.

Tiresome when it should titillate, the broad-daylight film lazily trips on the low bar of being a cheap, enjoyable Italian rip-off of 1986’s crazy-popular cable staple The Hitcher. Mostly taking place inside the RV, Hitcher in the Dark is essentially a two-hander, which would be fine if either actor exhibited a kung-fu grip. It’s not that old pro Lenzi had completely lost his touch, since the same year gave us Nightmare Beach, which is nothing but fun.

The most engaging part of Dark is hearing the dated line, “Hey, who do you think are, Mickey Rourke?” and reading all the oddly named (and inconsistently capitalized) characters in the closing credits: to wit, “Big man store,” “Toyota’s woman,” “1 Greaser” and “2 Greaser.” —Rod Lott

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A Serbian Film (2010)

Srdjan Spasojevic’s A Serbian Film is so repellent, so sick, so depraved, it may turn you xenophobic. It begins with a toddler watching his father, Milos (Srdjan Todorovic), pounding away at some woman on a porno. Oh, the memories! Milos since has retired from the industry, but the one-time “Balkan sex god” is in need of some cash, so when he’s approached by some high rollers to shoot an arty film they claim is only for foreign markets, and offer him enough money that he’ll be set for life, he’s ready to throw his hat — and by hat, we mean dick — back into the ring.

You’ve likely already heard about the atrocities Milos commits for the camera, so you may be thinking, “Should I really watch it?” That depends on how much you wanna see Milos jerk off next to a Dumpster while he gazes at an underage hooker, or hear a story about monks making a sandwich spread out of blood, semen and milk.

And that’s nothing compared to him beating and ultimately beheading a woman as he rapes her from behind. Or having to fuck a newborn baby. Or finding out that the masked person under the sheets he’s been raping is his own son. Or punching out a guy’s eyes with his bloody, erect member. A friend warned me, “There’s no reason to watch this. Turn it off now before you see things you can never unsee. And this is coming from me.”

He was right: There is no reason to see A Serbian Film, even out of sheer curiosity. I mean, what’s the point? That raping people is bad? I already knew that, Spasojevic, thanks. Claim it’s pointed, political art all you want, but I have to disagree. I shudder to think there’s someone out there literally getting off on the acts it portrays — and you know he/she/them exists. Whoever you are, please consider incarcerating yourself. Kthx. —Rod Lott

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