Human Beasts.
Even with certain refrains borrowed from House of Psychotic Women,
Naschy's
first co-production film with the Japanese is an oddity from him.
The wonder is that Naschy, as screenwriter, takes
a dim (or, shall we say, realistic) viewpoint of mankind and spiritual rebirth.
Not only does Naschy
start out as a betraying, cold-blooded killer,
but his ethical reawakening, under a family's solicitous care, is challenged
by events not of his own choosing, though perhaps set in motion by the dictates
of retributional fate. Subtle images of human sacrifice (the crucifix in
Naschy's
room) and naive contempt
for lower life forms (both Naschy and his oriental love crush insects)
underline the carnivorous motifs running
through the film. We also get pig slaughter and a repast where the humans
act more like animals than the animals they are partaking of. Yet the
characters are never despicable. Naschy is consistently sympathetic (this
very fact proves what a likeable film presence he has, particularly in his
mature years), and the rather odd family he stays with have a certain old-world
charm about
them. The ending is
uncompromising and something Hollywood, with its indulgence to the ordinary
tastes of preview audiences,
would never allow. Naschy's direction is assured (the shootout at the ruins
near the beginning of the film is handled well, with a willingness to listen
to nature and recognize, in its unrestrained sounds, the currents
of human loneliness and fear).
The musical track, supposedly different in this English version, uses a
variety of cues from some interesting sources. The title theme is actually
Ennio Morricone's
"Dies Irae Psichedelico" from Escalation;
and though I can't identify them, some other cues seem to be taken from
Morricone, too. Lusty and gusty, with a touch
of unexpected ribald humor, Human Beasts is a solid entry in the Naschy
canon. [Source
print: All Seasons Entertainment; see The Mystery Behind
All Seasons for a discussion of the variants of this tape.]