The Ghastly Ones (1968)

I've never managed to see an Andy Milligan film, but you could say I had preconceived notions about him. In Danse Macabre, Stephen King refers to The Ghastly Ones as "the work of morons with cameras". In the Creature Features Movie Guide, John Stanley dismisses The Body Beneath as " a painful, tedious experience".

I don't always agree with these fine gentlemen, but their words struck me as accurate descriptions of the films. Back in the eighties I had opportunities to rent The Rats Are Coming! The Werewolves Are Here! and The Body Beneath, but I never took the bait.

We had a drive-in that showed older movies, but Milligan never turned up there. He strikes me as a lot more of an NYC grindhouse guy than one whose work fits in the southern drive-in circuit.

I always knew I had to see for myself at some point. The 42nd Street set consider Andy Milligan to be the creme de la creme, as it were, of transgressive exploitation. Milligan's life sounded as melodramatic and sordid as his movies.

If there was one I had in mind, it's The Ghastly Ones. It's not like I haven't enjoyed movies made by morons with cameras before.

I happened upon a Something Weird Video DVD of The Ghastly Ones, and I watched it one cold predawn morning.

The obvious comparison is Herschell Gordon Lewis, but I much prefer the sunnier climes of Southern Florida in his films than the dank world of The Ghastly Ones. Lewis may not have possessed any more talent for the craft than Milligan, but he was a better businessman, which led to more money and slightly better production values. The gore in HGL movies is often shot in broad daylight and is plain to see. Everything in The Ghastly Ones is murky. I was squinting the whole time.

Maybe that's best. The scratchy Something Weird print used probably recreates the real grindhouse experience better than a cleaned-up version.

The whole movie is a dreary affair, painfully boring, with excruciating performances. Amateur acting often enhances a bad movie, but The Ghastly Ones merely induces cringes. Milligan was known to use "short ends", cheaply-obtained bits of film left over from more prestigious pictures. The editing is jarring and clumsy.

There are hints of homosexuality and S&M that were taboo and startling in 1968, but today it's nothing. No shock, no titillation, no satisfaction.

The drippy plot is heavy on the melodrama, slightly reminiscent of the work of short films by the Kuchar Brothers. Milligan doesn't have the verve or the talent of George and Mike, or any of their underground brethren.

The gore, what I could make out of it, is lively and amusing, but it's not enough to recommend The Ghastly Ones. If I'm going to watch vintage exploitation, I'd rather see a Roger Corman Nurses or Teachers movie.

I know people who swear by Andy, but I can't join their ranks. Perhaps if I had seen The Ghastly Ones back around 1980, when I was still a teenager, I probably would have roared and cheered with delight. Today I merely felt like I needed to be checked for diseases after watching it.

I love Lewis, am wowed by Wood, I'm a stickler for Steckler, and I admire Adamson. Andy Milligan, the ghastly one himself, is sadly not for me.

Written by Mark Sieber