“Are you heterosexual …?”
A most original tagline used to promote this quintessential “nudie cutie.” Better yet, listen to what Criswell, the fabulously unreliable prophet has to say – “I am Criswell. For years, I have told the almost unbelievable, related the unreal and showed it to be more than a fact. Now I tell a tale of the threshold people, so astounding that some of you may faint.”
Hip couple Bob (William Bates) and Shirley (Pat Barrington, Agony of Love, 1966) head out to the local cemetery to dig up inspiration for a ghost story. Tipping its hat to its Edward D. Wood Jr.- penned script, these scenes alternate between day and night in the manner of his Plan Nine from Outer Space (1959). Pulling up to the boneyard, they are introduced to the “Emperor” (Criswell under any other name) and the “Black Ghoul” (Fawn Silver, a Vampira wannabe) who tie the two up for an evening of supernatural fun ‘n’ games.
What we get in Orgy of the Dead is a series of “interpretive dances” from some cut-rate dancers in what amounts, to what another scribe described as just a “tasteless tit show.” This forgotten author, from a long forgotten Eighties fanzine added another bon mot worth repeating: That all the strippers gave the transvestite Wood the unfettered opportunity to squeeze his big business into their discarded costumes.
We get a Slave dance, a Mexican dance, a Skeleton dance and the piece de resistance: the Buxotic Barringer doing double duty as a dancer gilded in gold, in yet another no-budget homage to Shirley Eaton’s turn in Goldfinger (1964). Some brutally unfunny guys dressed as the Werewolf and the Mummy crack some lame jokes and everything clears up with the coming of the dawn.
It’s a term that’s overused in describing older films, but Orgy of the Dead is definitely a “relic” of a bygone era. The film, along with Apostolof’s other films came at a time when any film where a girl dropped her top had paying theatrical audiences lining up around the block. Apostolof’s other films, Suburbia Confidential (1966) and Office Love-In (1968) benefit from a camera mounted on a tripod and pretty gals, but little else. His films lack the depth and manic appeal of his contemporaries such as Joe Sarno and Russ Meyer. Scenes of men with firmly belted pants climbing into bed with topless girls who then mimic unconvincing lovemaking make up the bulk of his film’s runtimes. Since Apostolof kept Wood on payroll and vodka, some unconventional sexuality would pop up every now and then in his features, but overall his cinematic conservatism reflected his humble roots as a Bulgarian expatriate trying to make good in America.
There is a bit of history between this writer and Apostolof. Under the recommendation of filmmaker Anna (The Love Witch, 2017) Biller, who I likened to Apsotolof with her frequent use of medium shots, a film crew all the way from Bulgaria traveled to my abode for a filmed interview. The resultant documentary, Dad Made Dirty Movies (2011, directed by Jordan Todorov) has received extensive cable TV play in such far-off places such as Australia and Hong Kong. My interview segments are interspersed throughout, usually humorous asides surrounding the innocuous nature of Apostolof’s output. I’m ashamed that my usual chatty self was not up to the task. To this reviewer, Apostolof was never good or bad enough to warrant study.
Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-Ray/DVD combo of Orgy of the Dead transfers all the scorching colors of the original intact, making for an ocular orgy unto itself. The chief extra is a commentary track with Ed Wood biographer Rudolph Grey and director Frank Henenlotter. Most of the material trod upon will be familiar to most sleaze film fanatics, although one tidbit – that Bela Lugosi’s Dracula cape from Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948) is worn by Criswell in the film, is new to this reviewer. An interview with dancer Nadejda Dobrev, “Impressions of Nadejda,” tells of how she was essentially tricked into appearing in the film, but who now has no regrets. “Orgy of the Ted” is a less-than three minute interview with the late exploitation maven Ted V. Mikels about his brief association with the feature.
A product of bygone burly-cue productions and American’ then current “monster craze,” Orgy of the Dead continues its samba through the graveyard before the startled eyes of a long-jaded public. Criswell, who heavily promoted the film on Johnny Carson’s late-night chat program “The Tonight Show” – imagine being a befuddled TV viewer being admonished to see something called Orgy of the Dead? – sums it up verily: “Torture, torture, it pleasures me.”
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