Celebrate Halloween the 4DK way!

Halloween movie lists have become a staple of the season. But one has to admit that there's a numbing amount of overlap between them. I mean, does one really need to cram that much Vincent Price into their cinematic diet all in one go? In response, I have called shenanigans, emerged from my sharecropper's cabin, stumbled down the hill and perched myself in front of the community center's battered old Mac to do something that I should have done long ago. Below is a list of movies that, if you can find them, will guarantee you a Halloween like no other. (Please note that, where I have provided links, they are, in most cases, to unsubtitled versions of the films).

Da Khwar Lasme Spogmay, aka Cat Beast (Pakistan, 1997)

One owes it to oneself to, at least once in their life, watch a Pashto language horror film... before, of course, solemnly swearing to never watch one again. Da Khwar Lasme Spogmay has all of the hallmarks: fat ladies twerking in wet spandex; sound effects that are as incongruous as they are deafeningly loud, men with echoplexed voices pointing and shouting at each other. The works.
READ MY REVIEW

Plenilunio (Uruguay, 1993)

Uruguay comes through with that rarest of cinematic unicorns: a shot-on-video horror film that is not only well directed, well written and well acted, but that also provides some genuine scares... even if its creature effects are as ridiculous as they come. READ MY REVIEW

Sumpah Orang Minyak (Singapore, 1958)

The Oily Man rises from the swamp of Southeast Asian folklore to provide, not only an exotic addition to the usual cast of Halloween creatures, but also a simple and easy costume idea. All you need is a body stocking and a can of STP. READ MY REVIEW

WATCH IT ON YOUTUBE

The Savage Hunt of King Stakh (USSR, 1979)

Highly recommended by a well-meaning idiot who wrote: "The Savage Hunt of King Stakh luxuriates in gothic atmosphere, putting it in good company with the Italian thrillers of Margheritti et al, the AIP Poe films, and Hammer’s horror friendly take on The Hound of the Baskervilles. In contrast to those, however, it also boasts elements of stark modernism." READ MY REVIEW

WATCH IT ON YOUTUBE

Nyi Blorong, aka Snake Queen (Indonesia, 1982)

What would a 4DK Halloween be without Suzzanna, the queen of Indonesian horror?--here seen in one of her most iconic roles. As an added bonus for the ladies, we also get a shirtless Barry Prima. READ MY REVIEW

WATCH IT ON YOUTUBE

Ghost of Guts Eater (Thailand, 1973)

What? You say your seasonal gallery of ghouls does not include an entrails-trailing flying severed head? You are obviously a racist. READ MY REVIEW

WATCH IT ON YOUTUBE

Haram Alek, aka Ismail Yassin meets Frankenstein (Egypt, 1954)

That oldies-loving friend of yours insisting on yet another Halloween viewing of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein? Why not shake things up and switch it out with this charming Egyptian remake. READ MY REVIEW

WATCH IT ON YOUTUBE (WITH ENGLISH SUBTITLES!)

And finally...

Pyasa Shaitan (India, 1995)

...if watching all of the above in short order does not completely blow your mind,  here you go. The film that will spontaneously give you the ability to spout "WHAT THE FUCK, JOGINDER?" in flawless Tamil, not to mention every other language spoken by sane, decent minded human beings. READ MY REVIEW

WATCH IT ON YOUTUBE

I heart poop (and Joginder)

"It’s about pooping and I have the sense of humour of an eight-year-old"

You see, journos? That's the kind of pithy utterance you can expect if you turn to yours truly for an illuminating quote to spice up your article. The line forms to the left.

In this case, the article is one by Shaikh Ayaz in the latest edition of India's Open Magazine. The topic of said article being the great Indian B movie auteur and star Joginder -- he of Pyasa Shaitan, Ranga Khush, and, yes, the notorious Lota Dance.


Any excuse to post that clip, really.

Anyway, if you'd like to read Shaikh's article, "The Poet of Poop", which includes further thoughts from both me and Teleport City's illustrious Keith Allison, please avail yourselves here.

Potty training the Joginder way

Ranga Khush (India, 1975)

I just learned this past week that Joginder Shelly, the man responsible for bringing us Pyasa Shaitan (perhaps, if reports are to be believed, by re-editing an already existing Kamal Hassan film and inserting himself into it), died back in June at the age of 65. Joginder, aside from being a prolific actor, was just one of many of India's independent B movie producers who, back in the days before more modern distribution methods were widely adopted, made their living by supplying product to regional and smaller urban theaters that had a hard time getting their hands on the current top tier Bollywood films. He set himself apart from the pack, however, not only through his renaissance-man-like tendency to occasionally also direct, write, and star in those films he produced and distributed, but also by way of his rather, um, unique screen presence.

Ranga Khush, one of many dacoit films that Joginder starred in during the 70s, actually draws its title from his earlier film Bindiya Aur Bandook. Like Ranga Khush, that 1972 film was a low budget independent production - in this case produced by Joginder, but directed by Shibu Mitra. However, Bindiya Aur Bandook was also a film that surpassed all expectations by becoming a surprise mainstream hit, having such an impact that the catchphrase uttered by Joginder's character, "Ranga Khush" (which basically translates as -- in anticipation of Amrish Puri's famous line from Mr. India -- "Ranga is happy"*), went on to become part of the popular lexicon. (As an aside, Bindiya Aur Bandook also boasted a plot that was similar enough to the later Sholay that Joginder was moved to sue G.P. Sippy for plagiarism.)

Having a good exploitation movie head on his shoulders, Joginder knew enough to milk the Bindiya Aur Bandook association for all it was worth, and so crafted -- as writer, director, producer and star -- the follow-up Ranga Khush in 1975. This film also went on to be a big hit, cementing Joginder's reputation to the point where, even today, the man himself is often referred to, with varying levels of sarcasm or affection, as "Ranga Khush".

In the film, Joginder portrays -- who else? -- Ranga, a bestial bandit chief with a wild, yeti-like appearance. To be honest, I bought the VCD of Ranga Khush because the pictures on its sleeve lead me to believe that it was a monster film. And, indeed, Joginder's character does appear to be as much a supernatural being as he is a man, for, in the end, much as in Pyasa Shaitan, it takes the combination of a laser-firing Krishna, Jesus Christ, and Mohammed -- not to mention a physical beat down from Hanuman himself -- to slow him down.

In grand low budget movie tradition, Ranga Khush depends more upon talk than action to advance its story. As such, without subtitles, it provides little to sustain interest among non-Hindi speakers, save, perhaps, for the sheer hypnotic force of Joginder's bizarre performance. In his role as Ranga, the actor punctuates his dialog with an assortment of shrill chirping sounds and gibbering, high-pitched shrieks, coming across like some kind of helium-gorged Tourettes sufferer, while serving up the visual aspect of his portrayal in the form of near-constant eye rolling and gnashing of teeth.

Despite these tics, the Ranga that we see terrorizing the countryside is indeed fearsome. But when he returns to the supposed sanctuary of his cave hideout, it's a different story. Here it becomes clear that he is under the sway of Ginnibai (Chandrima Bhaduri), a black robed sorceress who may in fact be the wife of the original Ranga, who in turn sustains his presence by way of a snarling statue given a place of honor in one of the cave's more well-lit corners. It seems that Joginder's Ranga was kidnapped as a child by Ranga Sr. and raised as the bandit's own, with the intention of him assuming the Ranga mantle once the elder passed on. Now that this has come the pass, the younger Ranga, as far as I could surmise, is under the hypnotic power of Ginnibai, whom he obviously lives in mortal terror of. This arrangement has left Ranga a total wreck, prone to fits of unhinged chattering and self-pitying crying jags -- in other words, less of an evil madman than a pitiable loony, and perhaps even a bit on the challenged side.

What is also clear from our view of the cave is that, in his time in charge, Ranga has turned it into something of a baby farm. This is thanks not only to the presence of a retinue of toddlers captured from the neighboring villages, but also to a new addition bore him by Devi (Nazima), a young village girl who has become the bandit's unwilling bride. Devi's situation has left her brother Karma (Vikram) determined to free her from her imprisonment, a circumstance that, in a normal Bollywood film, would make Karma the hero of our story, if not for the fact that Joginder, despite his relatively low billing, was hogging so much of the screen time. Thankfully for us, Ranga's stable of captive females also includes Aruna Irani in the role of Kasturi, which provides for a fair share of diverting item numbers to take our minds off Joginder's weird ululations.

By the time Ranga has had his soul awakening smackdown with the combined deities of world religion and set out to make things right -- only to find himself hunted like an animal by the forces of the law -- it has become painfully clear that he is meant to be seen by us as a tragic figure. Of course, long before that point, Joginder has made sure to play him as such a freakish caricature that it is completely impossible for us to do so, much less take him -- or Ranga Khush as a whole -- seriously on any level. Still, there is something so hysterical about that portrayal and the film that contains it that it is easy to see why Ranga Khush became such a cult item in its day. I'm confident that proper subtitling would reveal a whole treasure trove of quotable lines to us ferangi. Until then, the only way I can pay tribute to its late, great star is by gibbering incoherently like a rabid spider monkey with half of its head caved in.

Here's to you, Joginder: Ranga-a-a-a-a-a!!

*Big thanks to Beth for her help with the translation.

What he said

So I finally got around to watching Pyasa Shaitain. Keith has already eloquently made the case for this masterpiece over at Teleport City, so I will keep my comments about it brief -- with my primary bullet point being that you should not only go read Keith's review of the film right now, but also head over to the ever-reliable Induna.com and secure a copy for yourself. You won't be sorry -- that is, unless you don't order some other stuff from them and end up paying $15 postage for a $1 VCD. So load up!

In short, Pyasa Shaitan serves as a potent tonic for the jaded cult cinema fan; an undiluted shot of strangeness for those for whom overexposure had seemingly sapped all potential for true strangeness from the movie-watching experience. It also manages to be an effectively unsettling little horror film in its own extremely peculiar way. I agree with Keith's comparison of the film to wild Cat III Hong Kong horrors like The Seventh Curse and Seeding of a Ghost. I also found the way it uses an unrelenting barrage of naive special effects to create a dreamlike, otherworldly atmosphere to be highly reminiscent of both Obayashi's Hausu and certain films by Guy Maddin.

Of course, my suspicion is that this effect is less intentional than it is the result of Pyasa director/writer/star Joginder Shelly's idiosyncratic take on the traditional "everything turned up to eleven" Indian approach to horror filmmaking. Despite the presence of Tamil superstar Kamal Hassan, the film bears a good deal of those telltale sleazy elements that suggest it was most-likely a fairly mercenary, hastily constructed affair. Essentially we're in the same off-kilter ambient horror territory as with the rapidly-becoming-legendary Shaitani Dracula, though in this case with a more sure-handed narrative and visual approach. Mind you, when speaking in relative terms, a film can easily be both more sure-handed and coherent than Shaitani Dracula while still being very close to none of either.

Intentions aside, however, the point is that Pyasa Shaitan is a film that will blow your little mind and rock your plastic fantastic world down to its very core. Chemical accompaniment may be appropriate, though those who choose to take hallucinogens while watching it risk living out their golden years in a rubber room. You've been warned!