Fell asleep during the second act of a horror double feature. I barely stayed awake through the cinematic abomination She Freak, and I don’t mean the creatures were abominations; it was truly an awful, awful movie. Yet, I was most looking forward to the second offering – Berserk, with Joan Crawford.
The movie was billed as a horror, though it was more of a suspense/mystery; and to take it one step further it may even be an accidental American giallo. The story centers on a callous, money-driven travelling circus ringmaster – Monica Rivers - portrayed by the wickedly endearing Joan Crawford.
Slumping profits are forcing Monica to make difficult choices over which acts to keep and which others to let go, but soon grisly accidents begin taking the lives of her performers which sends ticket sales rising, making Monica very happy, but there is still a mystery to be solved. Who is killing her performers?
The movie was filmed brightly, showing off the brilliant bright colors of the circus atmosphere and outfits, much like the tone of a giallo film, and you have the unknown killer roaming the circus grounds murdering victims in sadistic ways. For movie savants there is a special treat as the film also features the late Michael Gough as Albert Durando, Monica’s ex-lover. Michael Gough is most likely best known for portraying Alfred Pennyworth in Tim Burton’s and Joel Schumacher’s four collective Batman films.
From what I did see, the movie as a whole was well done, unfortunately the lazy plot and even lazier writing was its undoing. I dosed off but I wasn’t done seeing Joan Crawford just yet.
In my dream I was experiencing a romantic evening with a red-haired mystery woman, but the body and movements were undoubtedly influenced by Joan Crawford, and my assumption would soon be assured.
After cleaning up downstairs I entered the bedroom. My lover looked to be drifting to sleep as her face was turned away from my sight. I lifted the covers and nestled into bed next to her. I leaned over and planted a row of kisses starting at her shoulder and down her arm. Quickly, she turned around and slapped my face; I swore it was like a two-by-four had snapped against my temple. Her enraged eyes doused her fury all over me and all I could do was cowardly turn away and hope I could sleep without the fear of being stabbed in the back. Even when I awoke, I was turned on my side and I could feel the warmth of her body on my back, but as I turned around, there was only the unoccupied half of my bed.
I got rejected in my own wet dream!
Definitely my kind of woman, though.
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