Giuliano Carnimeo's Ratman (1988)

A British scientist living in the Caribbean has high expectations for his latest experiment (maybe a Nobel prize and international fame and fortune). The scientist has successfully crossbred Rattus norvegicus and Homo sapien to produce the titular character of one of Giuliano Carnimeo's last directorial credits, Ratman (1988), portrayed by Nelson de la Rosa. Before the good scientist can show off his creation at the latest scientific expo, the hybrid creature escapes. Meanwhile models, Marlis (Eva Grimaldi) and Peggy (Luisa Menon), are getting their photos snapped by Mark (Werner Pochath) on the beach. The day's shoot concludes. Mark is taking Marlis deeper into the jungle for more photos the following day, and Peggy is flying back to New York. Mark develops his photos that evening and notices something unusual in the corner of one of his photographs (but can't really make it out). Peggy is on the town en route to a party and when her cab breaks down, she has to trek to the bus station on foot through a dark alley. A psycho is on the loose, and Peggy captures his eye. She manages to duck into a dark house and hide in the closet. Unfortunately, a diminutive clawed creature has already taken up residence within. Enter lovely Terry (Janet Agren) who arrives at the airport and encounters television mystery writer, Fred (David Warbeck). They share a cab into town. Terry's destination is the morgue. Apparently her model sister was murdered. Fred has a good heart, a nose for investigation, and an eye for Terry. He'll help her out.

In an excellent book of interviews, Spaghetti Nightmares, legendary producer Fabrizio De Angelis is asked: What can you tell us about Quella villa in fondo al parco (Ratman)...? His terse answer: Well...I had problems with the director, Carnimeo. I don't think it was one of my most successful productions...[I edited out of the question and answer an additional query and response into another De Angelis production].

Actor and genre legend, David Warbeck is interviewed later in Spaghetti Nightmares and has this to say about the production: when asked, "That film was officially directed by Giuliano Carmineo, but there seems to be a suspicion that Fabrizio De Angelis was really the guilty man...," Warbeck responds:

No, he was the producer and he set everything going, but the other guy...I though he was OK. We didn't fight, I just thought he was a bit of a lost cause, and this is where Fabrizio stepped in and whipped the thing into shape a bit. The other guy didn't know what he was doing, or maybe he didn't really want to do it; I just couldn't work it out. What can I say? The whole thing was complete madness, but, yes, it did do very well.

Despite its leading man and producer having few nice things to say about Ratman's veteran director Giuliano Carnimeo, he has made some notable works. My favorites are his giallo, What Are Those Strange Drops of Blood Doing on Jennifer's Body? (1973), Secrets of a Call Girl (1973), Poker in Bed (1974), all with Edwige Fenech, his Western, Man Called Invincible (1973), and his 80s post-nuke contribution, Exterminators in the Year 3000 (1983). Carnimeo's work doesn't easily fit into any auteur theory and it's often competent and professional.

If Fabrizio De Angelis wasn't producing notable Italian genre cinema in the 80s, he was directing it. Rabid fans of Italian 80s genre cinema (of which I am a very proud member) owe a big thanks to the man. Some of my favorite production credits of his are (inhales): Lucio Fulci's Zombie (1979), The Beyond (1981), The House by the Cemetery (1981), The New York Ripper (1982), Marino Girolami's Zombie Holocaust (1980), Enzo G. Castellari's 1990: Bronx Warriors (1982), Tonino Ricci's Raiders of the Magic Ivory (1988), and Luigi Cozzi's Paganini Horror (1989). Let's not forget about his directorial credits, and alongside Bruno Mattei, De Angelis consistently directed some of the best Italian action films of the period. Some of my favorites are: the Thunder series (three films in 1983, 1987 and 1988), Deadly Impact (1984), Man Hunt (1984), and one of the best, Cobra Mission (1986) (exhales).

The screenwriter of Ratman, Dardano Sacchetti, is also legendary. Two of his earliest screenwriting credits are on Mario Bava's excellent and influential Twitch of the Death Nerve (1971) and Dario Argento's A Cat O'Nine Tails (1971). With approximately fifty screenwriting credits in the 80s alone, Sacchetti was a major figure in Italian genre cinema (his 70s work is very notable, as well). My carpal tunnel syndrome will explode my hands if I attempt to list my favorites here. I recommend clicking the link above to peruse his credits. In Spaghetti Nightmares during his interview Sacchetti is asked, "How do you manage to write so many scripts?" His response: On average I write five or six a year, but I write every day, including Sundays. I enjoy writing and I think a good story is always better than good directing, which is another reason why I've never gotten behind the camera.

In addition to the talent behind the camera, Ratman boast four actors who all made notable contributions and/or are stalwarts of Italian genre cinema (especially their 80s work): Warbeck, Agren, Grimaldi, and Pochath. One of the reasons that I love the cinema from the Italians during the 80s is because it appears the entire industry was feeling the crunch the American blockbuster. The cinema feels, on the whole, driven by a desire to produce pure entertainment and pure exploitation: a little money in the participants' pockets and lots of tremendous fun to be had by the viewer. The 80s is Italian genre cinema's magic hour, and in a lot of ways, Ratman feels like a swan song.

The biggest flaw of Carnimeo's film is the lack of screen time that Warbeck and Agren receive. Their two characters drive the story through their investigation of the rodent murders, and when they are on screen, they feel like cogs in the wheel. Possessing an immediate chemistry and both with the ability to pull off wonderful humor, the two's ability is lost. When they are on screen, they're a lot of fun to watch. Eva Grimaldi as Marlis truly drives the story. Ratman's viewer gets treated to the lovely lady during a swimsuit photo shoot and another where she pulls off her best Flashdance moves. Extremely charismatic, Grimaldi brings a lot of enthusiasm to her role, as ultimately the Ratman's biggest obsession. Either the director, the producer, or the screenwriter should have kept the focus on Marlis and cut the Warbeck/Agren plotline. Ratman would become more of a straight horror film, and the attempt to have Warbeck and Agren provide romance or mystery to the story never happens anyway. Carnimeo's scare scenes range from effective, as with the earlier sequence with Peggy, to hilariously bad, as when Ratman pops out of the toilet for a scare. When the short running time of Ratman ended, I had a complete smile on my face. If one can get past the ludicrous premise of the film (a half-rat/half-man killer); its low budget and highly sensational elements; and the occasional dip into ineptitude and disbelief, then...well, you probably won't see Ratman, because after that, not much is left. However, if you love all of those elements, then you're probably like me a fan of Italian 80s genre cinema and will highly enjoy Ratman.

Tonino Ricci's Panic (1976)

Jane (Janet Agren) is working in her lab, when she notices two caged rats going at each other and an alarm goes off. The alarm signals a breach in the lab's security of a possible viral contagion. Her chemical company and the local government near London want to keep the breach hush-hush to prevent a public panic. Meanwhile, a cute young couple are shagging in their automobile. The couple is attacked, mutilated, and killed. The cops investigate the murder and call in Captain Kirk: no, not William Shatner but my main man, David Warbeck. Kirk learns of the breach in the lab and when he follows up with Jane, he learns that Professor Adams is missing, the brilliant scientist who was working on a new project. Is there any link between the contagion, the murders, and the recently-missing Professor Adams in Tonino Ricci's Panic (1976)? Panic is a patchwork quilt of would-be plotlines. For example, when Kirk visits Jane on his initial investigation and learns that Professor Adams is missing, the two go to Adams's retreat out in the country to search for clues. Finding the professor's dead bodyguard at his hideaway, the sequence, at first blush, looks like the beginning of a mystery and blossoming romance between Kirk and Jane, as the two exchange jokes and stumble upon clues. The murder scenes are shot like a slasher flick: Ricci uses the camera's p.o.v. to mimic the monster stalking, slowly and creepily upon his victims. Around the end of the first act, the film kicks into panic mode, as scenes are shown of soldiers in trucks roaming the streets in their gas masks and hazmat outfits. Kirk, however, donning a tan raincoat is still investigating the murders, like a old-time private eye. He and a police officer head underground to look for clues of the monster; while above ground, in a fantastic sequence, the monster attacks in a full movie theatre. Grabbing a young lady and throwing her over its shoulder, the monster finds solace in the projection room where his dinner can be eaten. By the time the final act begins, the government has quarantined the English town and the citizens have moved into the titular panic and begin rioting.Ricci has seemingly never had a fondness or a patience for plotlines. Ricci loves the action sequences and the more the merrier. For example, his best film, The Big Family (1973) is really a series of exciting mob hits tied together with the most perfunctory plot line. When he tackles tiburons and aliens in The Shark's Cave (1978) or aliens in an underground kingdom in Encounters in the Deep (1979), Ricci could care less why his characters are in the water, just as long as the sharks are in a willing frenzy or the aliens are ready to take over the world. I love the man's cinema, so if Ricci can give me some seriously enthusiastic sequences, I'm sold. Yes, I'm a cheap date, and Ricci delivers. The monster in the movie theatre is standout: to watch the rubber-suited monster writhe in pain as the awful film plays on the screen, only to claw through the screen and scare the hell out of the patrons is true B-movie gold. When the monster attacks in two sequences unsuspecting families, the viewer thinks that it's Ricci in the monster suit, because there is so much enthusiasm. To his credit, Ricci actually links all of these disparate scenes together with a very thin visual cue but linked nonetheless. Janet Agren's Jane is sorely underused. Agren as an actress has been underused in her career. Often just eye candy, as in Giuseppe Bennati's underrated giallo, The Killer Reserved Nine Seats (1974), or as a collateral character, as in Carlo Vanzina's Mystère (1983), as Carole Bouquet's friend, Agren briefly gets to show her charisma and range. When Agren is given a substantial role, for example, as the pretty lady who runs the truckstop in Sergio Martino's Hands of Steel (1986), she often steals her scenes and shines brightly. This is the second film that I can recall where Ricci doesn't use Agren enough, and I wish there were more scenes with her.

David Warbeck, like Agren, is a Eurocult legend. Warbeck made some phenomenal flicks with Antonio Margheriti, such as The Last Hunter (1980), The Hunters of the Golden Cobra (1982), Tiger Joe (1982), and Ark of the Sun God (1983), which really defined and shaped Italian 80s action movies. Warbeck also appeared in a little-known film by an obscure director during this period, Lucio Fulci's The Beyond (1981) that's really popular with the young folks. Warbeck's good in this role. He can smoke a cigarette and wield a gun with the best of them.I've probably had more fun with Panic than would most viewers. I absolutely love films that coast on fumes financially but are guzzling an endless supply of enthusiasm and fun. By no means a cinema classic, Panic is a Ricci classic, which is quite all right with me.

Tonino Ricci's The Shark's Cave (1978)

Tonino Ricci's cinema and I are simpatico. Ricci never made a truly great genre picture, in my opinion, but his entire directorial filmography reveals many an enjoyable one. For eighty to ninety minutes, Ricci crafts pure entertainment with pure craftsmanship. His best film is The Big Family (1973), a focused crime flick, which is as much a series of exciting mafia hits as it is a story about a corrupt crime family. I hope to revisit all of his films that I've seen for this blog, but let's start with Ricci's tale of tiburones and a mysterious triangle in The Shark's Cave (1978).Andres (Andres Garcia) washes up on shore after a six-month absence. Andres does not remember anything about his trip and does not even remember his girlfriend, Angelica (Janet Agren), who has a burgeoning relationship with Andres's brother, Ricardo (Maximo Valverde). Andres decides to take it easy and relax (which includes a date to a cockfight with Angelica) until his memory comes back. However, Arthur Kennedy's Jackson knows who Andres is and he wants something from him. There's little need for concern--The Shark Cave's plot is completely perfunctory, as are the performances. So if you have selachophobia or hate spoilers, then stop reading now.

Handsome Andres Garcia has numerous acting credits and apparently lives a very interesting life. The only memorable film that I remember seeing with him is Rene Cardona Jr.'s truly mediocre The Bermuda Triangle (1978), where Garcia is lost amongst quite a cast, including John Huston, Gloria Guida, Hugo Stiglitz, and Claudine Auger. Beautiful Janet Agren has appearances in a number of noteworthy genre films with my favorite being the pretty lady who runs the lonely truck stop in Sergio Martino's Hands of Steel (1986). Likewise, Arthur Kennedy is no stranger to genre cinema with standout performances, for example, in Jorge Grau's Let Sleeping Corpses Lie (1974) and Tulio Demicheli's Ricco the Mean Machine (1973). Garcia and Agren are eye-candy: while they are not smiling or grimacing, they are swimming in their bikini briefs. Both have nice legs, but I would give the edge to Agren. Kennedy is a wonderful, old school American actor and plays gangsters perfectly; but other than chomping a cigar and pointing a pistol, there is no real character development.With a title like The Shark's Cave, there has got be some sharks in a cave, right? Definitely. The film's strong points are its underwater scenes. Andres's past is revealed in a flashback: Jackson hires Andres and his friend to investigate a downed airplane at the bottom of the ocean. While scuba-diving, Andres and his companion notice a large shiver of sharks apparently sleeping at the ocean floor. The sharks appear to be guarding something. Whatever it is, it is not of this earth, and it's also the cause for the plane crashing into the ocean. Andres notices a bright light during his investigation and his memory disappears. The finale of the film is amazing: it involves a massive shark frenzy. It's in these scenes where the viewer gets to see some excitement from Ricci: they are photographed in a very claustrophobic way; the jump scares work; the lighting is terrific; and the shots of the sharks are menacing.Interestingly, the best sequences of the film involve collateral characters. In one, an unknown group of friends are relaxing on their boat, singing a few songs, and one of them has a tarot deck. A little girl notices a deadly card in the deck and walks, with tattered doll in hand, off the edge of the boat. The group immediately dives in to save her, but in the darkness, the sharks come. Stelvio Cipriani, one of Italy's greatest film composers, delivers the film's score, and it's during this sequence where the music stands out: eerie accompanying wailing sounds and horrifying dissonant notes and chords. The scene is also literally very dark, so when the light gleams off the shark's shiny skin, it's something else.In another scene, an unknown ship captain tells his tale to Angelica about his ship sinking. The sequence could involve a ship model, because I have no idea. As hokey as the scene plays out, it is very effective.The scene doesn't further the plot: it just serves to heighten the supernatural aspect about the mystery at the ocean floor and the guarding sharks. A mystery to which the answer is never truly revealed by the end of the film. Really no matter, I was having too much fun while the story was underwater, and by the time any of the characters came up for air or survived a shark attack, the film was over. I think that was Ricci was going for when he delivered his hidden jewel in The Shark's Cave.