Playing almost like a particularly claustrophobic Argento film produced by Roger Corman, but starring Hammer’s two most notable leading men, the gory low-budget—but totally wonderful—Horror Express is one of those films that we of a certain age saw repeatedly on “Chiller Theater” type TV shows in the mid to late 70s. When I was a ten-year-old kid, this film absolutely scared the shit out of me.

In Horror Express, which is almost a horror comedy, a supposed “missing link” is discovered in Siberia, but the frozen creature is merely the vessel for an extraterrestrial spirit of “pure evil” that can hop from victim to victim turning them into zombies that bleed from their eyes. It stars Christoper Lee and Peter Cushing as two competitive archaeologists. Telly Savalas has a great supporting role as a brutal Cossack officer who’s a nasty piece of work and there is even a weird Rasputin character, too.  It was written by Arnaud d’Usseau and Julian Zimet, the same (one-time blacklisted) screenwriters who penned the “undead biker” classic Psychomania. It was directed by Eugenio Martín. Like many European films of the time, this Spanish production was shot without sound and the actors dubbed their voices in later so it’s got that loopy sort of feel.

The film has been in the public domain for years and crappy quasi-bootleg copies have been making the rounds for a while (I have one that has the film reels out of order). At long last, Horror Express fans are getting treated to a new deluxe 2-disc dual DVD/Blu-ray release from cult meisters extraordinare, Severin Films. The new high-definition master has been created using the original camera negative and DVD extras include a recording of an extensive 1973 interview with Peter Cushing. (Cushing’s wife died before filming on Horror Express commenced. He almost backed out of the film entirely).

Pre-oder a copy of Horror Express on Amazon.
 

 
Sometime in the mid-1980s, in one of those “Checks Cashed” places on 14th Street in NYC, I came upon a cache of el cheapo cult videos for sale. Things like Don Lett’s Punk Rock Movie. King of the Zombies with Mantan Moreland, rock conspiracy flick Beyond the Doors and something called Banned and Racist Cartoons. (I even found some animated “Tijuana Bibles” including one called “Woody’s A Fag” which could have ruined Woody Woodpecker’s movie career, let’s just say, had this gotten out in the 1940s). These tapes were being sold amidst things like car air fresheners, steering wheel covers, and 99 cent “travel"shoe shine kits. This enterprise seemed to be a side-business of the check cashing business. I don’t want to give the impression that someone artfully curated these tapes, because this was not the case. They were more likely to have fallen off a truck. There were also old Flash Gordon serials, Jack Benny shows, NASCAR and monster truck videos and Cantinflas comedies. None of it made any sense, but every time I went into this place, there were new weird videos for sale, just $2.99
 

 
Probably my favorite of all the VHS exotica discovered in this unlikely location was the oddball 1972 British Horror film Psychomania.

Psychomania stars Shakespearian actor Nicky Henson as the arrogant leader of a frog-worshiping motorcycle gang who makes a pact with the devil to return from the dead. His witchy mother is played by BAFTA-winning actress and OBE Beryl Reid. George Sanders (All About Eve, “Mr. Freeze” on Batman TV series, Village of the Damned) plays her sinister butler. It was directed by Don Sharp, a Hammer director who’d also shot a few episodes of The Avengers.
 

 
This movie is so wack it’s unbelievable. Jaw-dropping scene after jaw-dropping scene sees theis gang of impolite (yet articulate) Satanic bikers wrecking havoc in grocery stores, committing ritual suicide and being buried sitting atop their hogs (there’s a reason for this). What’s strange for a film with such a ridiculous premise is how decent the acting is. Usually low budget 70s horror movies had terrible acting, but this film had actors who could actually sell this bullshit. (George Sanders, who was an Oscar-winner, is here seen in his final role before committing suicide. This is something that nearly every reviewer of Psychomania makes a predictable joke about).

I’ve seen this film more times than I want to admit to, and I’ve inflicted it on a good many unsuspecting friends. Now I can retire my shitty old VHS of Psychomania in favor of the sparkle-y new widescreen DVD version put out by Severin Films. With cast interviews and a talk with the composer of its rockin’ soundtrack, John Cameron. Restored from the only known uncut 35mm print of the film in existence.