Little Red Riding Hood And The Monsters (1962/64)
Last Christmas we started the current season of Schlock Treatment with the Mexican kiddie nightmare of Santa Claus vs Satan. This year it’s an even stranger treat, if that’s at all possible: Little Red Riding Hood And The Monsters, another Mexican kids film AND a horror film from the same distributor, K. Gordon Murray. It’s grand guignol for the under-fives, a relentless catalogue of grotesqueries designed to give your bad dreams nightmares, and turn the water in your bathtub black.
Little Red Riding Hood is just one series from K. Gordon Murray, Florida’s High Priests of Hyperbole. Born the son of a funeral director, his first job in
Little Red Riding Hood And The Monsters is actually the third in a series from
All of which is guaranteed to turn your brain to porridge. Usually more care is taken with the dubbing, but this is a musical – with the world’s most excruciating musical score to boot - where the mouths don’t match, and I can almost guarantee K. Gordon Murray didn’t have a professional singer on staff. Thus we get these strangled human puppet shows that sound like a mad woman sawing a cat in half. In case the film wasn’t strange enough,
I don’t need to tell you films like this produced the generation of freaked-out flower children and acid burnouts.
For our next Christmas treats we have a pair of Christian horror films – yes, Baptist exploitation movies – from the feverishly righteous imagination of the Ormond Family.
The Ormond Film Organization was a grass roots film production and distribution company from
“REALLY fundamental” is more than an apt description of Estus Washington Pirkle. From his home base at the Locust Grove church in
Pirkle’s commanding stare from behind horn-rimmed glasses fills the screen. Pirkle was a small man in real life, tightly wound and utterly compelling to watch in action, his body rigid with righteous anger and indignation, with only his mouth breaking into a contorted grimace, his voice staying between a carefully controlled “People say to me, PREACHER...” and barely more than a whisper (“Will you come...will you come...”). Unless revival breaks out in our country, he reasons, God will simply pack up and leave
The Burning Hell (1974), a glimpse of a sinner’s own personal apocalypse, was the Ormonds’ second and most widely-seen Christian feature. Little wonder it traveled so well South of the Border - boasting a cast of hundreds (again, Estus Pirkle’s family and deep-pocketed congregation) and international locales, The Burning Hell is an intense, over-the-top theatrical experience. Estus W. Pirkle stands looking thoughtful, perched precariously on the rocky slopes of Mount Sinai in
There’s scant relief from the relentless downward spiral into the pit with the odd bloodless tale from the Bible, all filmed in the Holy Land with a staggering array of fake beards and headdresses. But fear not - whenever the pace lags for a moment, the Ormonds head straight back to the good ol’ eternal torment, “where the worm dieth not and the flame is not quenched”. And in case you don’t believe there will be worms - they’re right there in the Bible AND, in true Ormond style, front row centre on the screen. Close-up after hideous close-up of squirming maggots on contorted faces. “Think of the terrible odours!” Estus point out. “The continual itchiness!” For the grand finale set in “Hay-yull”, the Ormonds outdo themselves with a nightmarish menagerie of creatures, including the “locusts” described in Revelation: a surreal creation with the body of a horse, gold breastplate, teeth like a lion, hands of a woman, a crown of gold and a scorpion tail lashing at sinners. Even the Devil shows up dressed like the Riddler, an incessantly tittering fop who taunts a wide-eyed Tim Ormond with the promise of everlasting anguish.
I guarantee you have NEVER seen anything like this. From the fiery depths of the Schlock treatment archives we are proud to present the twisted, the outrageous, the clinically insane If Footmen Tire You What Will Horses Do? and The Burning Hell.Click here for an exclusive Schlock Treatment interview with Tim Ormond, actor and son of director Ron Ormond!