48. A BUCKET OF BLOOD
48. A BUCKET OF BLOOD
(1959)
Directed by Roger Corman
Walter Paisley the bus boy pays the rent in his dirty dingy and really beat bachelor dive by scurrying from table to table in a smoky beatnik bar called the Yellow Door where poets and painters and unshaven reefer headed deadbeats pass their hours waxing pretentious about the noble path of the artist and this bugs Walter to no end because he's got a notion stashed in his lid that he can swing it like an artist himself by working clay into mad sculptures but the simple minded milquetoast just doesn't have the chops until he accidentally impales the landlady's cat on a kitchen knife and adds clay to cover up the goof then presto he has his first masterpiece that he calls "Dead Cat" and the reception his sculpture gets at the Yellow Door really busts his conk and one murder leads to another and with some clay over corpses he is hailed as a full blown gasser, ace and hip and groovy and crazy and all the rest, but the gambit can't last and soon the word is out that Walter has gone blowtop in pursuit of his art and his stay on the bohemian throne is a short one and he's forced to pull a Houdini when his murders are revealed and the scene gets too hot to stay cool. Crazy, man, crazy. The wildest. Fracture your wig with this black comedy for a finger popping good time. Beatnik horror, baby. It's way out.
(1959)
Directed by Roger Corman
Walter Paisley the bus boy pays the rent in his dirty dingy and really beat bachelor dive by scurrying from table to table in a smoky beatnik bar called the Yellow Door where poets and painters and unshaven reefer headed deadbeats pass their hours waxing pretentious about the noble path of the artist and this bugs Walter to no end because he's got a notion stashed in his lid that he can swing it like an artist himself by working clay into mad sculptures but the simple minded milquetoast just doesn't have the chops until he accidentally impales the landlady's cat on a kitchen knife and adds clay to cover up the goof then presto he has his first masterpiece that he calls "Dead Cat" and the reception his sculpture gets at the Yellow Door really busts his conk and one murder leads to another and with some clay over corpses he is hailed as a full blown gasser, ace and hip and groovy and crazy and all the rest, but the gambit can't last and soon the word is out that Walter has gone blowtop in pursuit of his art and his stay on the bohemian throne is a short one and he's forced to pull a Houdini when his murders are revealed and the scene gets too hot to stay cool. Crazy, man, crazy. The wildest. Fracture your wig with this black comedy for a finger popping good time. Beatnik horror, baby. It's way out.
posted by scottra at 3:00 AM
2 Comments:
If you can manage to make it past the first 15 minutes of this movie with the saxophone playing over the beatnik free poetry, you have really acheived something!
Imagine memorizing that horrible beat poem in its entirety and unleashing it during a horrible local poetry reading... I'd replace the saxophone with bagpipes, though... now that's horror.
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