Back in August, I conducted a poll on X.com to gauge interest in themes for my October blog posts. The options were:
- Monster rallies
- Sinister healthcare
- Terrifying Travel
- Mexican horrors
In a spirited race, Mexican horrors started out strong, and managed to win with 38.2% of the vote despite a surge for Monster rallies. I decided to indulge myself with a post on Universal’s monster rallies in September, but now, with the advent of October and the official Halloween season, a promise is a promise, so now I turn to Mexican Monster Action.
In a brilliant move, I thought I would have my cake and eat it too by following up my last post with one about Mexican Monster Rallies -- and there are a surprising number of them to choose from (please, no thanks are necessary!).
In 1957, at the very height of American B movie makers' infatuation with all things science fiction, a Mexican movie producer, Abel Salazar, swam against the tide, releasing a high Gothic horror film, El Vampiro (The Vampire), starring Germán Robles. The film, heavily influenced by the Universal horrors of the ‘30s and ‘40s, itself may have sparked the worldwide resurgence of Gothic horror in the late ‘50s. According to film scholar Doyle Greene,
“El Vampiro’s commercial and critical success in Mexico not only provided the impetus for the increased production of Mexican horror films throughout the next two decades, but Christopher Lee reportedly stated that El Vampiro, a popular and critical success in Europe as well as Mexico at the time of its original release, was a major source of inspiration for Hammer Studios’ glossier Horror of Dracula (1958, made one year after El Vampiro) -- a film instrumental in launching the Hammer dynasty of horror films.” [Doyle Green, Mexploitation Cinema: A Critical History of Mexican Vampire, Wrestler, Ape-Man and Similar Films, 1957-1977, McFarland, 2005, p. 8]
Corresponding to the flood of Hammer horror films, El Vampiro spawned a mini-universe of Mexican monsters, including vampires, werewolves, man-made monsters and mummies that would have felt right at home on Universal’s backlot. Salazar, knowing a good thing when he saw it, went on to produce (and even act in) some of the better, surreally frightening Mexican horrors, all of which have earned passionately loyal fans: The Vampire’s Coffin (El ataúd del vampiro, 1957), The World of Vampires (El mundo de las vampiros, 1961), The Witch’s Mirror (El espejo de la bruja, 1962; which I will be reviewing later this month), The Brainiac (El barón del terror, 1962, with one of the craziest monsters of them all), and Curse of the Crying Woman (La maldición de la Llorona, 1963), among others.
Around the same time that Salazar was creating his monster mini-universe, the enormously popular masked luchador and folk hero El Santo (born Rodolfo Guzmán Huerta in 1917) was lured into making films by a fellow wrestler. After playing the hero’s sidekick in his first two films, Santo’s movie career took off when he became the main hero and star of Santo vs. the Zombies (Santo contra los zombies) in 1961. Santo would eventually complete 53 movies before hanging up his distinctive silver mask. [Wikipedia]
In the course of his film career, Santo went up against every type of monster, as well as more conventional adversaries like crime bosses and spies. And he wasn’t always alone. His fellow luchador (and rival in the wrestling ring) Blue Demon (Alejandro Moreno) -- who would branch out into his own solo movie career -- joined Santo to fight evil in a number of films. Crime bosses are one thing, but a gang of monsters calls for teamwork.
Bless their heroic hearts, in the early ‘70s, at a time when Hammer had just about exhausted its reinterpretations of the classic monsters, the masked luchadores were just getting started battling bargain basement versions of Dracula, the Frankenstein monster, the Wolf Man and the Mummy -- and sometimes all of them at once.
To those fun-loving fans who enjoy rummaging around in bargain basements, here are a couple of Santo-Blue Demon collaborations that maximize the monster mayhem, and are fine examples of Mexican monster rallies:
Santo and Blue Demon vs. the Monsters (Santo el enmascarado de plata y Blue Demon contra los monstruos; 1970)
In “real” life (meaning Mexican wrestling life), Santo and Blue Demon were bitter rivals. This carried over into the wrestler team-up movies, where Blue Demon was “particularly unhappy about being reduced to Santo’s sidekick in their film pairings.” [Greene, p. 86]
The tension between the two is perfectly reflected in this monster rally, via the plot device of the villainous mad scientist (Bruno Halder, played by Carlos Ancira) kidnapping Blue Demon and making a perfect duplicate of the wrestler, which obeys Halder’s every command.
In addition to duplicating people, Halder has perfected the art of reviving the dead, which he puts to good use, creating his own gang of burly, green-faced zombies. In an ambitious move, Halder next resuscitates a monstrous A-team of a top-hatted vampire, an overweight werewolf (hombre lobo), a Frankenstein monster knock-off (bewilderingly named Franquestain, complete with a mangy beatnik-style mustache and beard!), an anemic, emaciated mummy, and a Cyclops creature that can live underwater (bargain basement Creature from the Black Lagoon anyone?).
For all this effort, Halder’s primary goal seems to be nothing more than to destroy his brother Otto (Ivan J. Rado), an academic who works for good instead of evil, and his beautiful niece Gloria (Hedi Blue), who just happens to be Santo’s girlfriend. But before he dispatches them, Halder wants his family members to witness his awesome powers in assembling a monster army (Bwwwahhhahahahaha!).
If you’re going to do a monster rally, then gosh darnit, the monsters should rally! And rally they do, not once but several times (with Blue Demon’s evil twin leading the way) -- in the woods where they ambush Santo, in the wrestling arena where they interrupt a match, in a fancy nightclub, and finally at Halder’s castle for the final confrontation between Good and Evil.
The kitchen staff at Halder's castle wondered what happened to their salad bowls. |
This being a low-budget affair with a limited runtime, the script skips any background on how Halder assembled his gang of classic (sort of) monsters -- it’s enough that they’ve reported for duty and are subject to his every command. Writer/producer Jesus Sotomayor Martinez’ heart was definitely in the right place in this homage to the Universal monsters, but for purists it’s a sort of backhanded compliment.
Dracula’s stand-in (David Alvizu) is never without his hat, even in flight (or in his coffin), which provides for some unintentional (?) laughs -- it seems to be affixed to his head with some form of supernatural superglue. Franquestain (Tinieblas) is highly reminiscent of Universal’s monster, so I imagine the stringy facial hair and idiosyncratic name were intended to provide some meager cover for a copyright infringement claim.
Franquestain is confident his disguise will fool Universal's lawyers. |
Even more disappointing are the Wolf Man and Mummy stand-ins.These characters look like they were cast by randomly tapping passersby on the street. The portly Hombre Lobo (Vincente Lara), sporting a few tufts of hair glued to his face and plastic fangs, looks like he would be hard-pressed to take on the ring girls at a wrestling match, much less the muscle-bound luchadores. And his skinny compadre La Mumia (Fernando Rosales) definitely could use a hot meal and a place to crash (but at least this mummy got to party with his fellow monsters, which Kharis never got to do in the Universal rallies).
The Cyclops (Gerardo Zepeda) is a fish out of water, looking like a sad reject from Jim Henson’s workshop. A quick scene in which he’s shown hanging out underwater doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the rest of the plot, except to perhaps suggest that he’s a weird one-eyed cousin of Universal’s Gillman. During several fight scenes, the Cyclops is privileged with intermittent close-ups in which he stares skyward with his one red eye, his mouth opening and closing as if he were intently following every move of a lucha libre match. He is weirdly cuddly.
The Cyclops is starstruck at being in the same film with Santo and Blue Demon. |
Also strangely endearing are the breaks from monster mayhem to shoehorn in wrestling footage and a dance number or two. The film opens with a lengthy sequence featuring real (or real-looking) footage of a women’s tag team match, with a breathless announcer doing play-by-play, and punctuated by shots of Santo watching the match. Later, Santo, his girlfriend and her father take a break from monster hunting by watching a couple of elaborately staged dance numbers at a nightclub.
This is Old School with a capital O and S, reminiscent of the American movie-going experience of the ‘30s and ‘40s, in which an attendee could expect a newsreel (often covering sporting events), and at least one extended song or dance number inserted into a feature, regardless of genre (the lucha libre films saved time and effort by simply embedding the “newsreels” into the films themselves).
As Doyle Greene explains, heavy-handed government censorship at the time prompted the filmmakers to insert extended footage of wrestling matches (the dance numbers were just icing on the cake):
“This stratagem [insterting match footage] not only capitalized on the widespread popularity of lucha libre in Mexico, but, by placing the wrestling matches in the context of a horror or other film, it allowed movie producers to circumvent the television ban on lucha libre broadcasts enacted by the Mexican government in the mid-1950s and provide the Mexican public an opportunity to see Santo and other famous wrestlers in a mass media setting (film rather than television).” [Greene, p. 11]
Santo, Gloria and Otto enjoy dinner and a show between monster attacks. |
Whatever its merits (or lack of them), S&BD vs. the Monsters was made by people who clearly loved the Universal monsters. In a lengthy opening titles sequence wherein each of the major cast members are introduced one-by-one, the monsters are introduced first, with the rest of the cast trailing behind, almost as an afterthought. Sure, we can quibble with the execution while still lauding the intent (let’s face it, the meager budget was stretched pretty thin with all those creatures). Much of it is goofy, but it’s also a lot of fun.
It's monster mayhem in the wrestling ring!
Bonus rally: Santo and Blue Demon vs. Dracula and the Wolf Man (Santo y Blue Demon contra Dracula y el Hombre Lobo; 1973)
Released just a couple of years after S&BD vs. the Monsters, Dracula and the Wolf Man, while retaining the grand goofiness of luchadores going up against Gothic monsters, at the same time has elements that make it seem like a movie from a different era.
Dracula/Wolf Man echoes its predecessor with the villain (the evil Count in this one) fixated on exacting horrific revenge on a family… and then possibly taking over the world if they have any time or energy left. It seems that centuries ago, a wise old alchemist by the name of Cristaldi created a holy dagger with which he killed Dracula (Aldo Monti) and his protege Rufus Rex (el hombre lobo, played by Agustín Martínez Solares) before they could carry out their evil plans.
In present day Mexico, a hunchbacked henchman, Eric (Alfredo Wally Barrón), who is apparently the latest in a long line of acolytes dedicated to serving the Count, sends a letter to Prof. Cristaldi (Jorge Mondragón), a direct descendent of the alchemist, threatening impending doom for his entire family. The professor has a lot to lose, including his widowed daughter Laura (María Eugenia San Martín), a granddaughter, and a niece, Lina (Nubia Martí), who happens to be Santo’s girlfriend. Fearing the worst, he asks Santo for help.
In an unguarded moment, Eric kidnaps the professor and takes him back to a cavernous lair where the bodies of Dracula and Rufus are interred. In a horrifying scene which pays homage to Hammer films and ups the bloody ante considerably, Eric strings up Cristaldi by his feet over the Count’s coffin and slits his throat to allow the blood to drip onto Dracula’s corpse, thereby reviving him. He rinses and repeats over the Wolf Man’s coffin, and voila, the terrible two are alive again to wreak havoc against the Cristaldi clan. (Hammer fans will immediately recognize this as the device that resurrects Christopher Lee’s Dracula: Prince of Darkness. For memories about seeing that scene and others like it for the first time, see my post, “I Can’t Believe My Parents Let Me Watch That, Part 2.”)
Suzi, realizing she was about to be sacrificed, was at least grateful that the dungeon had forced air heating. |
Dracula enlists Rufus, who is quite the ladies’ man when he isn’t growing wolf hair out of every orifice, to seduce unsuspecting Laura, with the ultimate aim of turning mother and daughter into slavish zombies. Meanwhile, Santo enlists Blue Demon in the search for the missing professor. They find him, but too late -- after being drained of blood, the professor suffers the final indignity of being zombified.
For all their legendary folk status, Santo and Blue Demon are particularly clueless in this one. Even when they’re supposedly on guard at the Cristaldi casa, evildoers come and go at will, stealing the magical dagger, menacing the granddaughter, putting the bite on the housekeeper, and generally traipsing through the place like they owned it. Where is that Ring doorbell when you need it? In one particularly egregious case, the wrestlers are preoccupied with a game of chess while Dracula hypnotizes Lina right under their masked noses.
And when they’re not letting their guard down at Cristaldis’ place, they’re blundering into traps. At one point Eric lures the pair to a warehouse where they’re ambushed by henchmen, Adam West Batman-style (only the Pow!, Thunk! And Zap! cartoon balloons are absent). Lina, disobeying Santo’s order to stay home, follows the pair, and saves their bacon by hopping on a forklift and plowing boxes onto the henchmen. (Score one for independent women!)
- "I forgot, whose move is it?" -"Hey, where's Lina going?" |
The final showdown takes place appropriately enough at Dracula’s lair, where Santo and Blue Demon encounter not only the Count and Rufus Rex, but gangs of wolf men and vampire women (make of that particular gender alignment what you will). The surreal fun is enhanced with a couple of rousing games of walk-the-plank over a pit of sharpened stakes. Ouch!
While the wrestlers of course prevail, the mood is much darker than the goofy 1970 monster bash, the heroes more flawed, and the final casualty count among the Cristaldi's is sobering. It's as if the outside world’s political and social upheavals had finally come home to roost in the minds of the filmmakers.
On the plus side, Lina is a scrappy, refreshing change from the typical helpless damsel in distress, saving Santo not once but twice! And in keeping with the darker tone, the look of Dracula and the Wolf Man are much more in line with their Universal counterparts (although Rufus in full make-up gets far too little screen time).
"Just wanted to let you know before we fight these guys, this shirt is dry-clean only." |
If you only have the time or patience to see one Santo monster mash, Dracula/Wolf Man's fidelity to the spirit of the classic monsters (not to mention some surprisingly dark and bloody sequences) makes it a strong candidate.
Dracula and the Wolf Man play walk the plank with Blue Demon!
Abject apology: Since this post on Santo and Blue Demon took on a life of its own, look for Waldemar Daninsky in a new post, coming soon!