William Lustig, a name long synonymous with horror and exploitation cinema, particularly for his 80s output - Maniac (1980), Vigilante (1982), and Maniac Cop (1988), but for also running the successful boutique label, Blue Underground; releasing numerous titles by European horror & exploitation filmmakers, including: Jess Franco, Dario Argento, Sergio Martino, and Amando de Ossorio. But, several years prior to the release, and ensuing outrage, of Maniac, Lustig began his career in filmmaking during New York's "porno chic" era, working on sets in the gritty and relatively new world of adult film. As the story goes, sometime in the '70s William Lustig dropped out of school and decided he wanted to make movies, so he took a trip to Times Square and cut his teeth in the NYC skin flick biz, learning enough on the job to eventually direct two rough 'n ready hardcore sex pix, The Violation of Claudia & Hot Honey.

Though not as well-known or widely discussed as his later horror & exploitation works, Lustig's hardcore duo deserve better than to be relegated as mere underground curiosities, or pitiless chores for fans seeking to complete a director's filmography. They're revealing, essential in shaping his approach to filmmaking and crucial to forging his identity as a filmmaker. I think much of what he learned during this period transferred directly to his relatively more mainstream efforts: guerrilla shoots, working to (or under) budget, and still managing to get the most out of the environment, sets, and, most importantly, the cast. I believe we would have seen a tamer, perhaps a differently paced version of Maniac had he not helmed these two skin flicks first.

As a New Jersey transplant at age 7, originally born in The Bronx, Lustig remarks that he was actually closer to Manhattan in New Jersey, being right next to the George Washington Bridge, and describing a '60s NYC as a film buff's dream. During these formative years, Bill fell in love with movies and catching double bills on the Deuce fuelled his passion to direct. In his late teens, Bill Lustig met Peter Savage (born Petrella) through a connection to his uncle - the former middleweight boxing champion, Jake LaMotta. Savage, a childhood friend of LaMotta's co-wrote his 1970 autobiography Raging Bull: My Story with Jake, a literary work which was later co-opted and adapted into the Martin Scorsese epic, Raging Bull (1980), starring Robert De Niro.

Peter Savage was already an independent filmmaker having written & directed The Runaways (1965) and Cauliflower Cupids (1970), both starring Jake LaMotta & himself. Neither received much acclaim or financial recompense, but seeing the potential profitability in the burgeoning adult film market after the phenomenon of Deep Throat (1972), Peter wasted little time boarding the runaway gravy train. It's around this period that Peter effectively kick-started Bill's future in film, seeing the obsession and believing his sincerity and enthusiasm about film - even cutting him cheques to attend two semesters at NYU's film school.

Through this association with Savage, Lustig began spending time at Dino De Laurentiis' office where he met Pete's friend, producer Ralph Serpe. Serpe gave Lustig his first taste of film production; working small-time gigs on a handful of New York-lensed pictures: Across 110th Street (1972), The Seven-Ups (1973) - as an uncredited production assistant, where Lustig would first meet character actor Joe Spinell, and through the De Laurentiis connection, he would land the job of apprentice editor on Death Wish (1974), a film which undoubtedly inspired Lustig's Vigilante.
On the commentary track of Vigilante, Bill recants a story in which he asked his uncle Jake to play the role of a bartender, but a day or two before shooting he calls Bill up and explains that he's read the script, but the part isn't big enough!

After these small but foundational roles, Peter got Bill working as a production assistant on a number of his hardcore films, beginning with Hypnorotica (1973), Lustig would eventually serve as PA on roughly 20-25 adult movies for about $30-$50 a day. He's described how he would get offers from directors to assist behind the camera and help them shoot their movies, including being approached by Jason Russell to shoot his gay hardcore flick, Headmaster (1976), starring Jamie Gillis & Marc Stevens.



Most of the adult films he worked on during this period were Peter Savage flicks, notably Sylvia (1977), also known as A Saint, A Woman, A Devil, a hardcore film which tackles the dubious psychological condition of multiple personality disorder (DID), likely influenced by Flora Rheta Schreiber's 1973 book, Sybil. Once again, Lustig worked as production manager as well as receiving the opportunity to direct a few scenes as second unit/assistant director on Sylvia. It was an invaluable hands-on experience: life on a film set, shooting 35mm with guerrilla tactics on a tight budget and an ever tighter schedule. Lustig has stated on numerous occasions that he owes his career and his life to Peter Savage.

The two features were shot pseudonymously during Lustig's early 20s under the nom de porn, Billy Bagg - a nickname he picked up while delivering auto parts in Tenafly, New Jersey because he didn't want to touch the dirty car parts unless they were bagged. This couplet of '70s hardcore function as a sort of "prevues of coming attractions" for Lustig's later work, offering a unique insight into a filmmaker's journey from so-called drop out - with an obvious aptitude and artistic flair, to lauded horror auteur.

Charting the beginning of a life in film, they're a bedrock for William Lustig's growth and development as a filmmaker. After spending two semesters studying at NYU, Lustig really hit the ground running through his connection to Peter Savage. Treating those early years making adult films as a training ground; learning on the job, honing a skill set in a low-budget environment while also being afforded to take liberties with traditional narrative structures - or ignore them altogether, and experiment with visual storytelling techniques without the worry of producing an incomprehensible work.

This is exemplified in The Violation of Claudia, Lustig's first film. Shot with a budget of around $35,000, scrounged from a guy he'd met an NYU film school and a group of his buddies, the result - for a first time feature, is captivating. The photography and lighting is sumptuous and deliberate; nothing feels rushed - especially when you stop to consider the rapid shooting schedule. It's an altogether classy affair, bolstered by a strong performance from a 20-something year old Sharon Mitchell. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for his sophomore effort, Hot Honey, which feels like exactly what it is: a weekend quickie shot for around $15,000.

Both of these movies feature a performance from 42nd Street Cinema fav, Jamie Gillis, and both were shot by director of photography, Robert Lindsay (credited as Lindsay Roberts), who would later shoot Lustig's ferociously violent slasher, Maniac (1980).


The Violation of Claudia (1977)

Starring: Sharon Mitchell, Jamie Gillis, Don Peterson, and Crystal Sync.

Armed with a budget of around $35,000, William Lustig set out to make his first film, The Violation of Claudia. Shot over 5 days in the autumn of 1976, on 35mm with Panavision equipment, like any straight movie of the time, the film was processed at Technicolor. Lustig, who was only 21 years old, opted for total creative control, cutting the film himself in a cramped office on 49th Street into two separate versions: an R-rated one for couples unwilling to delve under a lurid marquee of an "adult's only" Deuce joint, and one specifically for the raincoat brigade with penetration & ejaculations intact.

The Violation of Claudia was the inaugural release at the World Theatre on 49th Street after being recently leased by Art Morowitz & Howard Farber's Distribpix. Since Joe Sarno's Inside Jennifer Welles (1977) wasn't ready, Violation was shown first. It opened on 7th June 1977 and played for 7 weeks until Inside Jennifer Welles was ready to be released. Initially distributed by Cecil Howard's Command Cinema, Lustig eventually bought himself out of the deal a year later and took over the distribution himself. Violation also played the Pussycat Theatres in California as a second feature to Alex de Renzy's Babyface (1977), earning Lustig a much-needed $20,000 cheque during the production of Maniac. I've also seen ad mats advertising it as a 2nd feature to Bob Chinn's Disco Lady (1978) & Chris Warfield's Black Silk Stockings (1978). As part of pushing for the success of the film, Lustig alleges that he invited Al Goldstein, publisher of Screw Magazine, to a private screening, and before the movie started he gave Al an envelop containing $500 saying "I hope you enjoy the movie." As a result, Lustig received a 98% on the Peter-Meter, Al's humorous rating system.

The title is a bit of a misnomer though and one would be forgiven for believing it's a roughie, the word "violation" is certainly enough to conjure strong mental-images of savagery and a suggestive amount of severity, but the "violation" in question is not what you're lead to believe and is only revealed in the closing moments. In fact, The Violation of Claudia is something of a sincere hardcore version of Luis Buñuel's Belle de Jour (1967), with a 20-something year old Sharon Mitchell giving a brilliant performance as the slightly vulnerable, yet resolute and ever playful Claudia, in place of Catherine Deneuve.



The plot sees a young housewife, Claudia (Mitchell), first seduced then quickly persuaded by her swinging tennis coach, Kip - effortlessly portrayed by an ultra-suave Jamie Gillis, into the world of prostitution. What follows are Claudia's sexual experiences with a slew of clients, from the humorous to the obscene, the film comes to a jarring halt in the closing moments when we finally learn what the "violation" in the title refers to. The sudden unveiling of various characters' secrets after all the giddy hijinks and larking about the climax hits you with a sudden sense of melancholy, confusion, and sadness, flawlessly expressed by Mitchell, her expression in the film's final frame is unforgettable.

From its surrealistic opening to an ominous and haunting finale, The Violation of Claudia is an impressive effort from a first-time filmmaker. Lustig manages to capture and convey a distinctly European feel through a soft focus aesthetic, aping the aforementioned Buñuel. Of the two XXX movies he made, Violation is inarguably superior, fearlessly touching upon themes of prostitution, sexual freedom, middle class boredom, secrets, and ultimately, betrayal. Sharon Mitchell's performance is grounded and endearing, a testament to her ability as she was addicted to heroin at the time. Mitchell would again work with Lustig three years later, appearing as Nurse #2 in Maniac, alongside fellow adult film performer Abigail Clayton.




Hot Honey (1978)

Starring: Heather Young, Jamie Gillis, Serena, Lisa Marks (credited as Simone Sinclair), Jack Hammer, Robin Bird & Herschel Savage (credited as Bill Berry).

Hastily shot on 16mm over a weekend in the summer of 1978 for about $15,000, Hot Honey was financed and distributed by Lustig himself, shopping around his own hardcore and softcore prints and dealing with theatre owners directly, a commendable endeavour for anybody who's 23 years old. It also marks the first of two collaborations between future playright Richard Vetere and Lustig - Vetere would go on to write Lustig's Vigilante (1982).

Of the two, Hot Honey might be a bit more camp, fun, and care-free than Violation, but it's without a doubt the weaker of the pair, even if it does boast "one of the first" ATM scenes within the first 15 minutes.
It feels rushed and impetuously concocted, it lacks the rich visual flair seen in Violation, gone is the dreamy European soft focus, instead, it's a crude & unpolished cash grab. Lustig himself has admitted to lacking the enthusiasm he had for his previous effort and it shows.
Thematically Hot Honey treads similar ground to The Violation of Claudia, dealing with voyeurism, disability, BDSM, incest, and sexual freedom without casting any real judgement or prejudice.



As the opening credits and theme song (I love it when XXX movies have their own theme!) begin to roll we're introduced to Honey (Colleen Anderson, credited as Heather Young), a young, seemingly frigid & naive woman on a date in '70s Times Square with her latest flame, Johnny (Jack Hammer). For any cinephile these fleeting glimpses of a bygone era in its heyday are invaluable, holy.

The couple get back to Johnny's pad, he starts getting fresh with Honey and quickly gets pissed off when she won't put out. Seconds after Honey leaves, Johnny waste no time calling up a strumpet from downstairs to get his rocks off. Honey returns home to her controlling, disabled brother Michael (Jamie Gillis) and, who appears to be, his live-in nurse/dominatrix (Serena). The following day Honey meets up with her friend Sara (Lisa Marks) and after a conversation about the previous evening's events, Honey begins a path of sexual exploration, guided by her more experienced friend. Eventually, after a strange BDSM encounter with Michael & his nurse, Honey returns to Johnny to show him what she's learned and subsequently blows his mind before leaving him again. Hot Honey climaxes with a 12 minute three-way with Honey, Sara, and Sara's husband (Herschel Savage).



Unlike The Violation of Claudia, a more narrative-driven skin flick, Hot Honey is solely focussed on the action, it's basically a showcase of loops crudely stitched together by a wafer-thin, barely comprehensible plot, and even by Lustig's own admission the film is "shit." That said, there's a handful of highlights worth mentioning; the action remains pretty hot - given the frequency, and it has an infectious, can't-help-but-sing-a-long theme (7" single when??). See a wheelchair-bound Gillis get pushed around - in and out of the chair, and gleefully emasculated by a domineering Serena, and it's totally worth mentioning Herschel Savage's egregious moustache.

A final and relatively interesting tidbit of trivia about Hot Honey is to do with the score, it's credited to Chris D'Antoni, the son of producer/director Philip D'Antoni (Bullit - 1968, The French Connection - 1971, and The Seven-Ups - 1973 - of which Philip directed and Lustig also worked on as a PA).

The much derided sequel to a beloved VHS staple, though not without its own charms. R.I.P. to Gerrit Graham who passed away last month, what an eclectic career that dude had!



I actually spent the time to create a .gif of the title card's animation, I'd love to do this for other movies with neat title card animations, but I always circle back to the same question, WHERE'S THE TIME?

A cheeky offering from adult ciné extraordinaire Bob Chinn, and dammit if I didn't have a blast with this one, the 3rd Chinn flick to appear on Title Card Tuesday, what bias, what scandal!

Well, well, well, hasn't it been a while? At some point I will return with a consistent posting schedule, I've several articles in the works, which when I have ample time, promise to finish. Until then...

I recently watched this rather poignant slice of biker-adjacent, post-Manson exploitation; was super cool seeing a 25 year old Sheriff Truman (Michael Ontkean) & Eastwood regular, Albert Popwell chewing scenery. The Peace Killers is well worth the price of admission.

I was a teenager when I first came across Night of the Zombies, the last of six films made by exploitation director Joel M. Reed, in Francis Brewster, Harvey Fenton & Marc Morris' near-biblical Video Nasty tome, Shock! Horror!: Astounding Artwork from the Video Nasty Era (FAB Press - 2005)
At the time, remarking how cool and outrageous it looked just from the supplied Apple Video VHS cover. Really though, get a load of that illustration, take a good long look and tell me you're not the least bit interested? Holy smokes! There's a great big Schutzstaffel insignia stamped above the title, and below that, two gun-toting, totenkopf-looking gut-munchers dripping in Nazi regalia, and even lower still there's a hideously decayed, leering pale-faced ghoul in the lower right, accompanied by the ominous words "YOU COULD BE NEXT..." I could be next....next to what? Next to watch this cool as fuck Nazi zombie bloodbath? Nah, I wouldn't check out this hunk of tripe for almost another 20 years, but I never forgot that wild VHS art! The power of marketing eh? All of those bombastic attributes resonated with my undeveloped prefrontal cortex, I was hooked and ready to be reeled in, but as we jaded film fanatics know - for better or worse - looks can be deceiving, and that truth be told, Night of the Zombies isn't a (good) zombie film, or even a good film altogether. Instead, it's a dysfunctional cinematic curio, yet for all the incoherence and blatant shortcomings it still possesses a distinctive charm and wry sense of humour.

Starring: Jamie Gillis, Ryan Hilliard, Ron Armstrong, and Samantha Grey.

The plot is a baffling mishmash of James Bond-style spy/detective-action caper, a war movie, and a sci-fi zombie film, though there's only about 7 zombies and these are a far cry from your Romero flesh-eaters, this lot are a bunch of walkin', talkin' undead soldiers, kept alive by Gamma 693, an experimental chemical intended to keep wounded servicemen alive until they can reach a hospital. In the middle of this chaos is Nick Monroe (Gillis), a CIA Special Agent; Dr. Clarence Proud (Hilliard), a biochemical expert, and his niece Susan Proud (Grey). Nick is sent on a "minimum exposure assignment" - which I suppose for Jamie Gillis this movie is a minimum exposure gig! He's tasked by his handler to set off for Munich and chase down a lead on "Special Unit C", a chemical warfare outfit from WWII who were carrying the experimental "Gamma 693" gas.



The trio set off for the Bavarian Alps where Nick uncovers a much larger and fiendish game at play, involving world domination by a sort of secretive "undead new world order"; composed of decomposing Allied and Axis fighters, a sort of undead master race that intends to feed on the rest of humanity, prolonging their own lives by enslaving humans and effectively using them as cattle. However, Night of the Zombies is such a diabolical mess these nuances, or dare I say - intricacies, are so poorly conveyed that the whole narrative feels like it's degenerating faster than a walking cadaver. At times it's difficult to understand who's on which side and what schemer is behind any such machination.

Eventually, our intrepid hero, Nick, slathers on a layer of war paint, dons some military duds, and heads out to infiltrate a zombified Allied battalion in the snowy wilderness where battle is still being fought, apparently every night, with the soldiers acting as if they're seemingly trapped in a weird WWII re-enactment that you might find at a country fair. Amazingly, he succeeds, not only navigating his way across a pitch-black terrain, but somehow dodging bullets and shellfire. It's crazy to think those guys/ghouls would have been out there for over 30 years and don't appear to notice a new member joining their rank and file!
Events soon take a dramatic turn when it's revealed that Dr. Proud is a furtive flesh-eater - that's right kiddies, his reason all along for embarking on the mission has been for another fix of Gamma 693 in order to prolong his life. Unable to gas-up, he starts trying to put the bite on his niece, as it's also revealed that consuming human flesh prolongs the zombies' lifespan. Fortunately, Nick arrives just-in-time to have a bit of a rough 'n' tumble with the good doctor, before Susan grabs a nozzle hoses him down with some foam (??? - right!), reducing her uncle to plastic skeleton in a beige jumper. These are the kinds of plot holes, inconsistencies, and creative (or budgetary) choices that are truly magical and become real endearing features to the ever-enduring cinephile.

There's also a bizarre and inexplicable sequence where Nick picks up a teenage-looking hooker and takes her back to his hotel room. He begins talking to her in soft, dulcet, somewhat smug tones - those familiar with Gillis' work will know exactly what I'm talking about, asking her to strip off, all the while he picks up a chair - bemused I thought "where's this possibly going?" before he sends the chair crashing against a mirror, injuring some bloke getting an eyeful on the other side. He comes stumbling through a doorway, bleeding from the face, presumably he's a rival spy, or similarly scheming malfactor, it's never adequately explained. A confounding moment which sends Night of the Zombies spiralling into the category of filmic treasures collectively known as: What The Fuck? Movies.



It's a pity Night of the Zombies is only available in the form of VHS rips, I think the poor presentation adds to the overall "incoherent, sloppy mess" quality it deftly secretes. That's not to say this is beautifully shot, well framed, or expertly executed and merely suffers just because of poor presentation; don't get me wrong, it sucks, BUT I think it would benefit from a proper scan and restoration which might alleviate a few of the gripes & woes presented to the viewer. There's an enormous amount of potential here, but it's routinely and frustratingly squandered, and in a handful of moments, I couldn't help but be just a little bit reminded of Shriek of the Mutilated (1974) and Night of the Demon (1980), two Bigfoot movies that possess the same penniless production values, and in which an expedition set off to explore a remote mountainous region and while camped out there the shit hits the fan in a big bad way. Ironically, both of those movies are shining examples of cine basura, and equally, they too achieve a certain charm and are thoroughly enjoyable in their own right.

Yeah, Jamie Gillis in a non-sex role and guess what fuckers, he shines! The usual poise, bravado, and overall self-assuredness comes off with tongue planted firmly in-cheek, it's a playful rather than grating trait, in a sort of Sherlock Holmes-y way, and it brings a certain affable charisma to his character of Nick Monroe. Gillis, busy as ever in 1981 also appeared in a small role in Bruce Malmuth/Sylvester Stallone's Nighthawks, along with 11 credits for adult films, including: The Amero Brothers' Blonde Ambition, Cecil Howard's Neon Nights, and Shaun Costello's Pandora's Mirror. The links to the adult film industry don't end there either because this, along with two other Joel M. Reed movies: Career Bed (1969) and Blood Sucking Freaks (1976), are lensed by porno cinematographer Ron Dorfman, who also appears in this as Nick's C.I.A. chief. Reed and Co. actually shot quite a number of scenes on location in Munich, Germany with the rest being shot in New York, in the home and on the property of frequent Gillis collaborator and porno mainstay, Shaun Costello.



Nazi zombies? Cool! Where? That VHS cover art primes a prospective viewer for an intense Nazi zombie nightmare, but it's surprisingly lacking in the Nazi zombie department, I think I counted a grand total of two, both in one brief scene, where you can see the shambling members of the Third Reich (see one of the images above - if your eyes can penetrate stygian gloom and make sense of the blurry, dog shit-quality of the VHS rip), and the battalion Nick infiltrates in the last 15 minutes are quite obviously US soldiers, given the fact they're sitting around bullshitting about their Parisian downtime with American accents.

Anyway, for a "zombie" film, Night of the Zombies is utterly devoid of blood and gore and it's stranger still when taking into consideration that director, Joel M. Reed, wasn't afraid of throwing the red stuff around during the production of Blood Sucking Freaks, his debauched riff on H.G. Lewis' splatterific The Wizard of Gore (1970). What does it have going for it then? It has perhaps the most obviously fake, laughably bad, plastic skeletons I've ever seen in a movie. And, although it came out several years before, I can't help but be reminded of the chemical agent "2-4-5 Trioxin" from the infinitely better, The Return of the Living Dead (1985), a kind of cool but ultimately pointless similarity I thought I would take up more of your time with by mentioning.



It's one of those unique American zombie movies, made well after Romero's revolutionary Night of the Living Dead (1968), which doesn't conform to what would become the traditional, or codified rules of zombie cinema, cemented by Romero's Dead trilogy (1968-1985). Unfortunately, it might be one of the worst examples of the genre, yet when grouped with titles like, Ken Wiederhorn's Shock Waves (1977), Jean Rollin's Zombie Lake (1980), and Jess Franco's Oasis of the Zombies (1982), together they virtually form a subgenre of their very own. Nazi zombie movies with Skid Row production values and fever dream atmospheres that are often amplified by mystifying narrative choices.
I've read that Night of the Zombies was originally released in 1979 under the title, Gamma 693, which would have been hot on the heels of Romero's Dawn of the Dead (1978), but I can't find a source to truly substantiate this claim, along with it being later released again in 1981 as Night of the Wehrmacht Zombies. As a slight aside, understanding the numerous alternative titles for this are headache-inducing, since along with all the previously mentioned titles, this VHS rip is titled Night of the Zombies II, possibly billing this as a sequel to capitalise on its first release or a quick cash-in on the back of Bruno Mattei's Hell of the Living Dead / Zombie Creeping Flesh (1980), which is also known as Night of the Zombies.
In the UK, it was released on VHS for the first time in 1982 with slightly different artwork, before being re-issued the same year with that incredible Apple Video art. It was briefly re-issued again in 1986 under the title of The Chilling - not to be confused with the 1989 film of the same name by Jack A. Sunseri & Deland Nuse.

In any event, yes - the film's a dud, the direction is clumsy; the cinematography is unusually dark, as if they're attempting to mask the piss-poor production. Yet, that's not to say it isn't watchable or even enjoyable, on the contrary I've seen far worse performances in more recent, larger budgeted flix, and there's just so much fun to be had with this - whether that's at the film's expense or not is entirely up to you, but I would be an outright liar if I said I wouldn't pick up a copy of this if it appeared in a preorder announcement from the likes of Vinegar Syndrome or Severin Films in the future.

I'm loathe to use the term proto-slasher (sick emoji), but I guess Kent Bateman's (yes, Jason Bateman's old man!) The Headless Eyes falls under that jazzy banner, it's a fine example of grindhouse phlegm, and I get a real kick from its charming, grimy, low-budget splatter. Please forgive the poor quality, it was sourced from a crummy download I've had for years, and the other source lacks a title card altogether!

Jack Hill's Philippine-lensed women-in-prison flick, The Big Doll House, starring Pam Grier, Judith Brown, and Roberta Collins.