Film Review: LEMORA: A CHILD'S TALE OF THE SUPERNATURAL (1973, Richard Blackburn)

Stars: 3.5 of 5.

Running Time: 85 minutes.

Notable Cast or Crew: Lesley Taplin (THE ACTIVIST), Cheryl Smith (LASERBLAST, THE INCREDIBLE MELTING MAN), and Hy Pyke (BLADE RUNNER, DOLEMITE). Directed by Richard Blackburn (who also co-wrote EATING RAOUL and wrote and directed a TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE episode). Cinematography by Robert Caramico (BLACKENSTEIN, FALCON CREST, JUST SHOOT ME).
Tag-line: "Through the doors up the dark stairs behind this window... a possession is taking place! Run, little girl... innocence is in peril tonight!"

Best one-liner: "I am the unkillable. My spirit is the strongest ever."

Longtime readers of this site will know of my interest in what I call "melancholy horror," which I roughly define as a sub-genre of especially artistic horror/thriller/supernatural drama films that offer  genuine scares and genuine sadness in equal measure. They routinely begin and/or end with a tragedy, often of an accidental, non-supernatural variety; and they were made, by and large, between 1970 and 1981, mostly on lower budgets which lend them a 'documentary' feel. Their visuals are impressionistic, hypnotic, and dreamlike, the 1970s film stock often lending sunlight, candlelight, and fall colors a special ethereal prominence. LEMORA: A CHILD'S TALE OF THE SUPERNATURAL fits firmly into this category, a truly American indie that later found a cult audience in France. It's a peculiar hodgepodge of Jesus and Lovecraft, of folk tales and arthouse sensibilities, drenched in scary-weird amateur acting choices and vibrant, expressionistic lighting.

LEMORA is mostly notorious for a lengthy condemnation by the Catholic Legion of Decency, and the re-release poster pictured (at the top of the review) is retroactively trying to cash in on these religious horror aspects by making visual reference to CARRIE. Truthfully, the film has much more in common with melancholy gems like LET'S SCARE JESSICA TO DEATH (1971) or VALERIE AND HER WEEK OF WONDERS (1970). Technically, this is a PG-rated children's movie, but it's also a perverse psychological miasma of adolescent paranoia and sexual aggression, and the fact that sections of it were filmed on abandoned sets from THE ANDY GRIFFITH SHOW only adds to the effect.

Welcome to Mayberry!

The plot revolves around the thirteen-year-old Lila Lee, a doe-eyed gangster's child turned evangelical starlet,

 

the "singin' angel daughter of a real life devil,"

who escapes her (possibly pedophilic?) foster Reverend for the Lovecraftian hamlet of Astaroth, where her father may be hiding out. Here, factions of proto-Fulci-esque zombies 

vie for dominance against Edwardian lesbian vampires who look like they just escaped the PICNIC AT HANGING ROCK.

To paraphrase Bush 43, "ladies and gentlemen, this is some weird shit." Essentially, every character that Lila Lee encounters attempts to exploit her to some end (whether by sexual or culinary means)

and the result is a deeply alienating life lesson (ostensibly for child viewers) regarding society's view of adolescent female sexuality. Minus the horror elements, it is a message that easily could have been delivered by Catherine Breillat, Simone de Beauvoir, or Chantal Akerman. LEMORA's inability to commit to a single horror trope (zombies, vampires, witchcraft, hag horror, ghosts, religious horror, haunted houses) feels deliberate, speaking to the universality of the message––almost as if to signal that all female Bildungsromane lead here, from  LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD to THE BELL JAR. 

At the center of all of this is a deeply bizarre performance by Lesley Taplin as the eponymous Lemora, a predatory vampiress who may very well be the most likable character in the film.

In the end, it's an obscure, atmospheric, and generally quiet entry into melancholy horror genre, and like ALICE IN WONDERLAND and many a coming-of-age fairy tale, it is ambiguous enough to inspire a wide range of reactions (I could just as easily analyze LEMORA as a progressive text, or regressive one).

Film Review: EATING RAOUL (1982, Paul Bartel)

Stars: 5 of 5.
Running Time: 83 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Paul Bartel, Mary Woronov, Robert Beltran (LONE WOLF MCQUADE, BIG LOVE, NIXON), Richard Paul (THE PEOPLE VS. LARRY FLYNT, EXORCIST II), Ed Begley, Jr., John Landis cameo. Co-written by Richard Blackburn (LEMORA: A CHILD'S TALE OF THE SUPERNATURAL).
Tag-lines: "Meet the Blands! They're square . . . They're in love . . . And they kill people."
Best one-liner: "Well, there's one consideration. If you'd done what he asked, he would have died anyway."
Best exchange: "I'm the host here, goddammit, now get out of your clothes and get into the hot tub, or get out! We don't want any wet blankets or spoilsports at this party...we're here to SWING!" "-Yeah, well, swing on THIS!"

EATING RAOUL takes elements of film noir, the Roger Corman school of B-movies, John Waters, and the traditions of its own inimitable director and star, Paul Bartel, and coagulates them into a dark, hilarious, and gritty L.A. masterpiece that I feel is superior to the other great early 80's oddball cult comedies like REPO MAN. This is good "quirky" (a giant wine pillow?!) before quirky got sold up the river and commercialized.

Self-produced for nearly nothing by Bartel and his parents, the film has an attention to detail which is exquisite: half the jokes are visual or aural cues buried in the scene or dubbed in later, which become the filmic equivalent of the tiny, jokey, tucked away illustrations in the classic issues of Mad Magazine. (And with a greater degree of subtlety than, say, AIRPLANE.)

Bartel and frequent collaborator Mary Woronov prove themselves to be one of the all-time great cinematic teams: if you will, the 70's and 80's demented cult answer to Tracey and Hepburn. (They acted together in 18 films, and Bartel directed her in 5.)

As always, their dynamic is perfect, making even obvious jokes uproarious due to their low-key, matter-of-fact presentation.

The film knows what lines to cross (race, swingers, fetishists), exactly how far to go without being gratuitous, and its humor is definitely a precursor and influence on contemporary awkward hilarity such as ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT. Five stars. And special note: this movie has nearly nothing to do with cannibalism, yet I frequently see it lumped in with DELICATESSEN, SWEENEY TODD or other films of that ilk, which is absurd.

As an angering side note, the current R1 DVD transfer image is unduly elongated and basically sucks. But still see it!


-Sean Gill