Impulse (1974, William Grefé)

It’s an insult to hacks to describe Impulse director Grefé as such. There are very few directors with less sense of how to direct a movie (or anything) than Grefé. But then he’s simpatico with cinematographer Edmund Gibson at least in terms of skill. Grefé’s got terrible shots, Gibson shoots them terribly. But Gibson’s credited as Edwin, so apparently, at some point, he realized maybe he was impulsive working on Impulse.

Grefé kind of—and only because every other option is exhausted—but he reminds of a TV commercial director. Like, a seventies TV commercial director. He’s got way too much headroom, and he never does close-ups during the protracted expository scenes. Outside a handful of action sequences and field trips, it’s primarily people standing or sitting inside talking to one another. Impulse filmed in Tampa, Florida, but it’s supposed to be in a much smaller place. Maybe. Maybe Shatner just drove from one side of town to the other, looking for his next mark.

More on Shatner in a bit, I promise. But there aren’t any real exteriors. Either the producers couldn’t figure out how to get permits, couldn’t afford them but then also couldn’t just guerilla the shots. Impulse is artless low-budget filmmaking. If the whole thing was about getting Shatner to wear a bunch of silly, silly, silly seventies outfits—silly—to embarrass him later, it might make sense. Except in 1974, the producers wouldn’t have known Shatner can survive anything–even seventies Florida fashion.

So it doesn’t look anywhere near as good even a TV movie from the same period. Impulse is unpleasant to view. But it’s surprisingly well-edited. Editor Julio C. Chávez initially seems as unimpressive as everyone else involved, then there’s a long shot beach scene, and it’s ADR, but it’s not bad. And then there’s some sound work where it ends, kind of breaking the third wall. Like, someone’s not hearing a conversation, then the conversation directly addresses them, and they hear.

It’s wild. It’s not good; it’s bad, but it’s at least something different.

Then the last half hour, which has Shatner’s mentally unwell gigolo conman breaking down and attacking the entire supporting cast… the editing’s really good. The scenes are still crap—especially Gibson’s day-for-night, which is ghastly—but the cutting’s nice. So, kudos to Chávez.

Otherwise, there’s Ruth Roman.

Impulse is just degrees of bad performance and how close the needle gets to embarrassing. Shatner’s spins around the whole time occasionally slows down a little, but then reliably zooms. For terrible camp Shatner, Impulse delivers.

But Roman’s all right. She’s the local rich lady whose mansion gets the only establishing shot, and her best friend is young widow Jennifer Bishop. Bishop has a late tween daughter, Kim Nicholas, who cuts school to go moon over her father’s gravestone. She even projectile cries on it. She’s very sad.

So Bishop doesn’t date.

At least not until stud Shatner arrives. Of course, he neglects to tell everyone he first met Nicholas, giving her a ride to the graveyard one day. But don’t worry, Shatner’s got no further designs on Nicholas than killing her for being a tattle rat.

Nicholas is bad, Bishop’s bad. Harold Sakata—Odd Job from Goldfinger—cameos as Shatner’s former partner-in-crime who wants in on the take. He drives around an RV with a giant “Karate Pete” sign on it; like on the crime job. It’s silly.

Sakata just embarrasses himself. He’s at least having fun. Or what amounts to it in Impulse.

For the Shatner-inclined, Impulse is required viewing, like Portrait of the Artist at a Low Point. It’s also early-to-mid-seventies-low budget Shatner, so it’s hard to be too upset at the film. It’s always bad, it’s always strange, it’s always problematic. From the start—the flashback where young Shatner (Chad Walker, in his only credit) kills his mom’s violent john, defending them, but she resents him because women are awful. Only they won’t be later; they’ll do everything Shatner says; except Nicholas because kids are terrible. Anyway.

It’s poorly shot, but it’s also exceptionally mean to Walker.

Then the opening titles are actually incompetent. The title cards pause the action, but they’re not in line with the current action. They’re mini-flashbacks. It’s inane, in addition to incompetent. Another reason Chávez is an unexpected boon.

Impulse is awful. Of course, it’s awful. It exists just to be awful.

Except for Roman and Chávez, obviously.

Tomb of Dracula (1972) #27

Tod27

Great art in this issue. Like, top five Gene Colan and Tom Palmer Tomb of Dracula so far. Not just the strange variety of things—seventies British romantic thriller, zombie vampire movie, Ray Harryhausen picture. It’s a lot, and it’s glorious.

Unfortunately, writer Marv Wolfman goes overboard with his religiously-tinged script. He started it last issue because it was about a guy finding some magic statue from his Yeshiva student son’s perspective. This issue it makes sense if you remember last issue, but then it turns into this weird “Co-Exist” thing with Wolfman lecturing Dracula for being bad in the second person. It’s not You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch, obviously, but also because Dr. Seuss wasn’t chastising the Grinch for not being churchy. Or, in this case, synagoguey.

But Dracula’s religious failings are the finale. First, we’ve got to resolve last issue’s cliffhanger, which had a still unseen new Bond villain dumping holy water on a caged Drac. Dracula escapes, of course, using two of his superpowers. Even with the nicely paced visuals from Colan, Wolfman plods through in the narration explaining how Dracula rolled a five so he could do the mist conversion.

Except, he’s just like misting out of a room. It doesn’t need to sound so hard.

I don’t think we actually find out how his escape resolves, either. It’s a mystery for next time and the Bond villain. Dracula comes to out by the highway just in time to intercept Yeshiva student David and his familiar, Shiela, who is low-key seducing David to get the magic stone tail away from him. Dracula assumed Shiela would tell David he was aiding in Dracula’s (actual) plan to conquer the universe with this Infinity Statue. Instead, they all bicker in the middle of the street, and Dracula sends a fire demon to scorch India.

Why India?

Dracula’s just a dick.

But it hits Taj, who’s moping around about still being on his endless subplot about visiting his wife and kid. He beats his wife. Not sure what he does to the kid. I think I remember, but no spoilers.

We also check in on Frank Drake, who’s down in Brazil, being a colonizing white guy. There’s a funny moment when Chastity the fixer gets off the plane and kisses Frank’s old rich pal hello, and the guy tells Frank he’s next. But no. They’re not going to be a throuple. Bummer.

Meanwhile, back in England, Rachel’s moping over Frank leaving her (not thinking he’s banging his way to South America), and Quincy has a new gadget.

It’s a packed issue; there are lots of varied scenes for Colan and Palmer to excel in rendering.

Just not a great script.

Werewolf by Night (1972) #24

Werewolf by Night 24

I’m losing my resolve for Werewolf by Night. I was mostly prepared for Don Perlin—there aren’t any good panels this issue, but there are some where inker Vince Colletta adds so many lines they compensate for whatever was there before. It works with the villain, a Jekyll and Hyde-type scientist who maybe can cure Jack’s monthly visitor. It’s only a few months until sister Lissa turns eighteen and gets the curse, too, presumably.

Lissa has been about to turn eighteen for a dozen issues; I think she was actually closer back around issue ten. Like it was imminent. But nothing’s guaranteed in Werewolf by Night except doing the same thing repeatedly, albeit with some whitewashing.

This issue opens with Jack’s landlady kicking him out. He’s wrecked the apartment three times in superhero fights, and the building owner has had enough. The way the owner’s mysterious makes me wonder if there will be a reveal. Curious enough to stick with the book? To see if Moon Knight owns Jack’s building? No.

But Jack then goes to live with Buck, who’s been up all night replacing the window Wolfman Jack jumped through last issue. Buck’s off the hook for killing the disfigured actor turned spree killer (with Jack whining in his monologue Buck killed him with the bullet meant to kill Wolfman Jack, but to save Jack’s life; no, he never hears himself). Jack lived with Buck in Werewolf by Night #1. Maybe even back in Marvel Spotlight. Three or four regular writers ago. And now we’re back, two dozen issues later.

The problem isn’t even writer Doug Moench doing old arcs on repeat; it’s Moench’s writing itself. He’s exceptionally verbose, which wasn’t terrible when he was doing Jack as pulpy narrator, but he’s just doing Jack as whiny bro. He’s not racist, which is an improvement over a while ago, but it’s a very low bar.

The series only goes another nineteen issues, plus or minus a Giant-Size, but nineteen bad comics is a lot of bad comics. Like, Moench’s worse at naming villains than Gerry Conway. He’s as bad as prequel trilogy George Lucas.

There’s just no point.

Tomb of Dracula (1972) #26

Tomb of Dracula 26

I’m not sure if this issue’s Marv Wolfman’s best Tomb, but it’s his most ambitious. He weaves the story—which involves a missing magical statue, a dead shop owner, Frank Drake and Taj being shitty dudes, a Kull-related flashback, and Dracula’s familiar, Shiela, meeting a British witch—through Old Testament verses. The shop owner’s Jewish, and his son (David, who seems like he’s going to recur even after next issue) is visiting him from a yeshiva. Just as the old man is about to complete his life’s work, some bad guys break in and kill him.

Dracula shows up a few minutes later at the active crime scene, wanting the statue and realizing the son’s got a piece of it. Dracula tasks Shiela with befriending David, and he takes her to see this old British witch who tells them about Kull. No editor’s notes with issue numbers, which was kind of disappointing. This statue can grant wishes—an Infinity Gauntlet you don’t need to snap—and Dracula wants it to… make himself immortal immortal, not vampire immortal. So he can still be evil but during the day.

David and Shiela are a nice couple. Like, Tomb of Dracula’s humans are usually obnoxious. Look at Frank Drake, who’s laying about since abandoning Rachel Van Helsing and the vampire hunters. It’s been three days since he left her—I swear this book has three different timelines going at once—and a sexy troubleshooter named Chastity Jones has tracked him down. She wants to give him a job being rich and fabulous again, plus she wants to get busy. Does he want to call Rachel (who he luvs, he said), or does he want to get horizontal?

So, immediately, David’s a bit more sympathetic a human character.

Oh, wait, then there’s Taj. He only gets a page because he’s not white; he’s moping around India because beating up his wife last issue or whatever didn’t make him feel better. Some old friend comes to plead with him to see her. So he beats that guy up too. Taj is a dick.

After spending the issue in the literal shadows, watching the humans do their things, Dracula gets into some trouble of his own while looking for the statue pieces, leading to a surprising cliffhanger. Though only because Dracula assumes he can’t possibly be in danger, but there wouldn’t be much of a comic without it.

It’s a strange combination of character study, mystical adventure, and Dracula. There are some bumps, but Gene Colan and Tom Palmer’s art is exquisite, and Wolfman’s working his buns off.

Werewolf by Night (1972) #23

Werewolf by Night 23

Reading this issue, I kept having to remind myself writer Doug Moench doesn’t want Jack Russell to sound like a jackass, quite the opposite. Moench writes Jack’s narration as a combination of hard-boiled detective, beatnik, and, I don’t know, Charles Atlas advertisement text. It’s the purest obnoxious surfer bro Jack’s gotten in two dozen plus Werewolf comics, and, wow, does it get old fast.

The last issue ended with Jack under arrest for murder; this issue opens with him fighting the return villain—Atlas (a disfigured movie star out to kill all those who contributed to his accident)—but then flashes back to the cliffhanger resolve. The series’s new useless cop character interrogates Jack, Jack calls Buck for five grand (in seventies Marvel-616, the cops set bail), and then Buck fills Jack in on the villain’s origin.

After countless accessory or inappropriate appearances (with Jack’s seventeen-year-old sister), Buck finally becomes integral to the issue’s plot. He wrote the script for the movie where Atlas got hurt and can narrate the flashback-in-a-flashback to Jack, saving his involvement for the end. I’m not sure why Moench wanted to pace it that way, other than Atlas busting into the apartment like Kool-Aid Man would have an extra jolt.

But it doesn’t.

Neither does Jack’s background transformation to Wolfman Jack.

The fight then catches up to the opening splash page, where the werewolf and Atlas are fighting in front of Grauman's Chinese Theatre. Atlas also kicks the werewolf’s ass, which raises questions about why Jack wants Buck to shoot him with a silver bullet if he can just be beaten to death.

The Don Perlin and Vince Colletta art is just as bewildering as the werewolf rules, with Colletta inking a lot of busy little lines. He’s not adding detail, just noise, and killing any implied movement in the artwork. It’s an ugly comic.

If Jack doesn’t get some humility soon, this book will be even more of a slog than I expected.

Tomb of Dracula (1972) #25

Tomb of Dracula 25

Unfortunately, there’s much to talk about this issue, like writer Marv Wolfman’s use of a racial slur, which was indeed “Code approved.” It’s not clear if the speaker is supposed to be a bad guy for being a racist, which sadly tracks given Wolfman’s Werewolf by Night Black neighbor character.

The issue’s all about private investigator Hannibal King, who narrates the issue like he grew up on pulp novels. It’s the point, but it also shows how banal hard-boiled comes off when not done well or when done for a gag. Wolfman doesn’t do it well, and he does it for a gag. King’s new client is a recent widow, and it’s her wedding day. As they were getting ready to consummate, Dracula came in and killed her husband. Dracula’s motive has something to do with shipping coffins from England to somewhere else, but it’s red herring nonsense. At one point, Drac makes it sound like he killed the guy as a warning to his boss.

The widow comes to see King, who looks her over approvingly (she’s Black, so he’s not a racist if he wants to bang her). Now, he won’t exactly put the moves on her, but he’ll think about it, and he’ll be really shitty to her during their initial meeting. Especially after finding out her husband died. You have to yell at dames to make them talk sense, just ask Marv Wolfman.

Especially since the widow doesn’t believe in vampires, King tells her a bunch of stories about his encounters with vampires, including one with the guy who looks like the dude who killed Blade’s mother.

King investigates, roaming London (he’s originally from Milwaukee, which fits), getting into fights, narrating ad nauseam, and discovering how Dracula fits into this whole thing.

There’s great art. Gene Colan and Tom Palmer are made for London private eye stories. Wolfman, not so much. Worse, he’s doing that strange thing where he writes Dracula from the perspective of the humans, and Dracula’s dialogue’s all of a sudden worse. He’s Fearless Leader, not Lord of the Undead.

The end’s doubly problematic, but it’s such a gorgeous book… read the endless text fast, linger on the beautiful panels.

Werewolf by Night (1972) #22

Werewolf by Night 22

New writer Doug Moench continues to put his mark (of the Werewolf) on Night.

By soft-booting the thing back to issue three or four. This issue starts with Jack going to see forty or fifty-something best friend Buck Cowan, who’s known Jack’s been a werewolf for a while now, but they never, ever talked about it on page, just went from not knowing to knowing. It’s the full moon, and the regular plan is for Jack to lock himself in Buck’s storage closet.

Jack tried this method last issue, and it’d didn’t work. They think they’ve got it licked this month with iron bars, but the werewolf just… goes through the door. Bet the claws help with it. The werewolf then attacks Buck, meaning Buck’s not as special as the other people the werewolf hasn’t killed because he knows they’re special to Jack. Except then, Jack’s seventeen-year-old sister shows up to see Buck, and the werewolf runs off.

I was getting my hopes up for Moench, and he’s really going back to Buck being a dirty old man.

Cool.

Moench does write excellent Wolfman Jack narration, though he finally breaks it at the end of the issue with Jack—who narrates the werewolf’s adventures in the past tense (meaning it’s already happened, keep that detail in mind)—thinking about how he doesn’t remember anything from the werewolf adventures. All that narrating he’s been doing for twenty issues? Doesn’t remember any of it. So how could he be narrating it during the Wolfman Jack adventures?

It’s tenses. It’s not, I don’t know, Ibsen.

Anyway, the actual story has the werewolf getting into a tussle with a ‘roided out movie star whose former producer got him into a disfiguring accident, so the guy, a former heartthrob, is killing a bunch of Hollywood types.

Who don’t not have it coming.

Moench also brings in a new cop—out for revenge for his missing partner, dirty, murdering cop Lou Hackett; but the new cop doesn’t know Lou was bad. Why get rid of one generic cop to bring in another?

The less said about the Don Perlin and Vince Colletta art, the better. It’s really bad this issue, Perlin’s worst (so far).

Once again, Werewolf’s a slog.

Tomb of Dracula (1972) #24

Tomb of Dracula 24

The issue opens with original series protagonist Frank Drake whining about being an unexceptional white man to his extraordinary vampire-hunting girlfriend, Rachel Van Helsing. The only thing the scene is missing is Rachel telling Frank she needs him because no one else will love her with her Dracula-inflicted face scars.

It’s a beautiful scene—art-wise—with penciller Gene Colan and inker Tom Palmer heading back to the London bridge where Frank met the vampire hunters back in issue two or whatever. From Big Ben, Dracula watches the tender moment, amused the vampire hunters still don’t know he’s alive. They thought he died a few issues ago, though they do know Lilith is back. Nothing about her in this issue.

Instead, it’s actually a Blade issue. Almost entirely, because Dracula doesn’t want Blade to know he’s back yet either, so Drac stays in bat form for their fight.

After the introduction with Frank and Rachel—which comes back at the end for some emotionally inert closure—writer Marv Wolfman moves the action to Blade’s apartment, where a random vampire attacks Blade’s “woman,” Saffron. There’s a brief fight scene, then some padding, then Saffron’s fellow “showgirl” Trudy running into the apartment. She’s just had a terrifying experience, and since Saffron mentioned her man’s a vampire hunter, Trudy thought Blade could help.

We then get a flashback with terrible narration from Trudy. Wolfman’s really bad at writing it. And it’s interminable. You know Tomb’s masterfully paced because Wolfman can have a sixty-two-page flashback in a nineteen-page story and have it be immediately forgotten and forgiven when the action gets going again. There’s a magnificent running fight sequence between Blade and Dracula (in bat form) through the streets of London, with Dracula’s wonderfully petty and spiteful narration accompanying.

There are a couple other diversions, both problematic as hellfire. First, Taj goes home to India to visit his wife and smack her around a bit because, you know, wives. Then Shiela Whittier, Dracula’s new familiar, moons over him while he’s out eating, making excuses for his professed evil plans.

I mean, great art on those scenes—Colan’s so good at the visual pacing, which is essential with the moody style—but it’s clear why Wolfman doesn’t understand he’s writing Frank Drake as a dipshit white guy.

And, yet, Tomb succeeds. Despite its definite failings, Tomb succeeds. Wolfman’s Dracula writing and Colan and Palmer’s art, how can it not?

Werewolf by Night (1972) #21

Werewolf by Night 21

Initially, this issue feels like newish writer Doug Moench taking Werewolf out and kicking its tires. He brings back Buck Cowan—who hasn’t been around since he was low-key living with seventeen-year-old Lissa Russell—as Jack’s best friend but only for a couple panels. There’s a lengthy flashback to the destruction of the Darkhold, sadly without the Russell family werewolf curse being Satanic in nature. There’s retconning about Joshua Kane; there’s the neighbor werewolf, Raymond Coker.

Moench—just like previous writer Gary Friedrich—doesn’t write Jack as racist to Black guy Coker, which just draws attention to how much writer-before-Friedrich Marv Wolfman did write Jack as a shitty racist bro.

This issue also finally resolves recurring supporting cast member Lou Hackett’s story arc. Hackett’s the cop investigating the werewolf sightings going on since Marvel started publishing Werewolf by Night, and he’s getting close to figuring out Jack’s deal. Jack living next door to another werewolf has complicated things a little, but not too much.

Then it turns out Hackett’s got some secrets of his own, but before Jack and Raymond can discover them, it’s a full moon.

Only this month, the two brother wolves have a third out to get them. The comic then becomes a fighting chase sequence across the Los Angeles rooftops. Or what penciller Don Perlin thinks are the Los Angeles rooftops; Perlin draws the city like it’s a movie backlot, so there’s no personality to the skyline.

But Moench’s good at writing Wolfman Jack’s narration, and the story’s compelling. Jack and Raymond found out last issue in order to cure lycanthropy, a werewolf needs to kill another werewolf. Good thing there’s a third werewolf out to get them.

Hopefully, their team-up is powerful enough (and fast enough to keep ahead of the cops).

It’s an action issue with a lumpy start and better than I thought possible for Werewolf these days. Perlin and inker Vince Colletta eventually are just drawing three werewolves fighting; one’s brown, one’s blue (supposed to be black), one’s blond. If you can deal with Perlin werewolf, you can deal with three.

Based on where he leaves things, Moench seems to get Werewolf better than previously implied.

I’m finally curious about how this book develops again.

Tomb of Dracula (1972) #23

Tod23

So this issue continues from Giant-Size Chillers, even though the timeline’s off between that comic and the previous Tomb. Writer Marv Wolfman tries to retcon it a little, with the flashback to Chillers showing Dracula talking to his stooge about his Russian holiday, even though the Russian vacation went unmentioned in Chillers itself.

The timeline disconnect doesn’t end up mattering since the vampire hunters don’t appear this issue. I mean, Taj goes back home to India for a page (his last name’s Nitall, which means his name rhymes with Taj Mahal), but it’s only to keep the burner going on a C-plot. And to reveal Taj has a wife back home no one knows about.

I’m sure it’ll matter eventually.

Anyway.

Dracula.

He’s in a haunted mansion with tortured young woman Shiela. She’s recently inherited the house, and it’s been haunting her ever since she arrived; it also killed her boyfriend, but in a way no one would believe her. Except for Dracula; because when the house starts screaming and the wind blows from closed windows, it’s hard not to believe in haunted houses. However, Dracula’s still relatively unimpressed. He tells Shiela he’s seen lots in his years, and this haunted house isn’t special.

Of course, if it were literally slicing into his skin like it’s doing Shiela, he might have more of a vested interest.

After a couple flashbacks, Dracula decides they’ll solve the mystery the next night and goes out for a snack. When he returns (presumably very close to dawn), the situation has gotten much worse for Shiela, and he’s got to intercede.

In Chillers, Dracula decided Shiela would be his next familiar. It’s been long enough since Clifton Graves screwed up the job; he’s ready for (no pun) fresh blood.

It’s a solid issue; nice art from Gene Colan and Tom Palmer, and some decent character development on Dracula. He does, however, rant about his daughter, Lilith, being more inhumane than even her father… which doesn’t gibe with her solo adventures but whatever. It’s like they figured out the general Dracula timeline, but everything else is up in the air.