The Living Head (1963) review

 

THE LIVING HEAD 1963 aka LA CABEZA VIVIENTE

Ana Luisa Peluffo (Marta), Mauricio Garces (Roberto), German Robles (Professor Mueller), Abel Salazar (Inspector Toledo), Guillermo Cramer (Xiu), Antonio Raxel (Professor Urquizo), Salvador Lozano (Professor Rivas)

Directed by Chano Urueta

***WARNING! This review contains nudity***

The Short Version: Arguably the best (which isn't saying a lot) of Mexico's B/W Mummy movies even if there isn't a traditional cloth-wrapped shambler; everything else is the same, though, just the mythology has been tweaked. German Robles steps out of his vampire cloak and steps into Peter Cushing mode as one of three professors that desecrate an Aztec tomb--successfully setting the obligatory revenge in motion; slow motion, but motion nonetheless. Not as insanely goofy as THE BRAINIAC or even remotely as classy as THE CURSE OF THE CRYING WOMAN, glaring plot holes and random stupidity render THE LIVING HEAD dead from the neck up.

A trio of archaeologists uncover the ancient Aztec tomb of Acatl, a great warrior killed by a traitorous priest centuries ago. Once inside, the diggers find Acatl's decapitated head and the mummies of his high priest and priestess, Xiu and Xochiquetzal. The released pressure of the sepulcher disintegrates the beautiful priestess leaving only dust and a strange ring with an eye in the center. Ignoring the warning of the Aztecs that all desecrators will die, the scientists return home with the head of Acatl, the mummy of Xiu and the Ring of Death. It isn't long before Xiu returns to life and, commanded by the head of the Acatl, seeks revenge for the defilement.

Mexican horror movies were often a startlingly unique blend of imitation and originality. Taking their cues from the B/W Univeral horrors of the 30s and 40s, they set themselves apart with Mexican culture, folklore, and a wildly creative sense of the macabre; or, in some cases, all three together. THE LIVING HEAD falls into the latter camp. Sadly, writers Federico Curiel and Adolfo Lopez Portillo aren't entirely successful in melding this trio of elements to create something as memorably absurd as THE BRAINIAC (1961) or the perpetually gothic ambiance of THE CURSE OF THE CRYING WOMAN (1963).

Director Chano Urueta has directed some of the most wildly chaotic examples of Mexican cinema such as the aforementioned THE BRAINIAC (1961), THE WITCH'S MIRROR (1961); and several of the Blue Demon entries--notably the hilariously grotesque Lucha Sci-Spy flick BLUE DEMON AGAINST THE INFERNAL BRAINS (1968). The no-holds barred style of those films is mostly absent here. That's not to say THE LIVING HEAD is bereft of entertainment, it simply sacrifices the Ed Woodian level of assertive unreality for the sake of being taken serious... and isn't entirely successful there, either.

Unrelated to the AZTEC MUMMY series, THE LIVING HEAD links itself to them with its backdrop of Aztecan folklore. What it doesn't have are criminal organizations, masked wrestlers, or a monstrous mummy that can transform itself into bats and spiders. Not unlike its genuinely mummified antecedent from 1957, THE AZTEC MUMMY, this one is straight horror. Despite there being actual monsters in those movies, HEAD bests them because its plot is built specifically around the horror of its title character. The AZTEC MUMMY series gives you very little Mummy action--the monster relegated to what amounts to cameo appearances in his own movies.

Sharing the same writing duo from Urueta's THE BRAINIAC (1961), it's essentially the same movie (even borrowing some of its musical cues) from a narrative perspective, but reworking various plot points; as well as trading BRAIN's deliriousness for HEAD's lethargy that takes over in the second half of the movie.

Outside of some intriguing spins on Mummy myths and Aztecan lore, THE LIVING HEAD was thinking clear enough to cast a number of high profile Mexican movie stars whom were well-known in their home country. 

The one most familiar to international fans was the late, great German Robles--famous for, among other things, the classic EL VAMPIRO (1957); and several other vampire roles. Urueta's movie sees him cast in a Peter Cushing type role--akin to Cushing's professor in Hammer's THE MUMMY from 1959. Robles' Professor Mueller is given a bit more to grapple with as he not only must contend with the possible loss of his own life, but that of his daugher and son-in-law. Robles played a similar character in Urueta's THE BRAINIAC, but in a less significant part compared to Abel Salazar's title encephalon sucker. You can read our tribute article to Robles HERE.

The other male lead was popular actor Mauricio Garces. Being something of a ladies man in his movies (offscreen he was said to have been a very lonely man who was dedicated to his mother), this Mexican Clark Gable (whom he favors) will be recognizable to fans of these movies from the likes of Rene Cardona's LA LLORONA (1960); the lead protagonist in Alfonso Carona Blake's THE WORLD OF THE VAMPIRES (1961); and in a smaller capacity in the kooky cult favorite THE BRAINIAC (1961) for Urueta. As for HEAD, Garces plays both the romantic lead and the living melon, belonging to the Aztec chieftain, Acatl. 

The lovely Ana Luisa Peluffo doubles as both Xochiquetzal of ancient times, and her reincarnated form as Marta. She doesn't have a lot to do till the end; remaining in a nightgown throughout much of the movie. She only starred in a few genre pictures like THE INVISIBLE MAN IN MEXICO (1958), THE WOMAN AND THE BEAST (1959), and the Blue Demon Lucha Sci-Spy flick, PASSPORT TO DEATH (1968). 

Ms. Peluffo created quite a stir in 1955 when, in one of her first roles, became the first Mexican actress to appear nude in a movie. The film, called THE FORCE OF DESIRE, saw her playing a model who drives a wedge between two men who desire her attention; one of the men was played by frequent Mexi-horror collaborator, Abel Salazar. Peluffo stirred the pot further in her next feature, THE SEDUCTOR (1955), her first for Chano Urueta. Ms. Peluffo found herself involved in a scandal of another sort ten years later in 1965 when a journalist was found dead in her swimming pool on June 27th of that year. She nonetheless amassed over 200 credits for film and television; making her one of the most prolific actresses of her time. Her first film credit was in the Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan flick, TARZAN AND THE MERMAIDS (1948).

There's not a great deal to recommend THE LIVING HEAD, although the fleeting instances of atmosphere and flashes of gore with bloody hearts ripped from chest cavities are among the film's minimal qualities. The opening Aztec temple sequence is engaging as is the opening of the crypt that follows. The disintegration of Xochiquetzal's mummified remains is a nice in-camera effect. And yet, had Urueta's movie been more outrageous in its potential for loopiness, the inadequacies would've worked in the picture's favor. 

The possibilities for another BRAINIAC were all here--a severed head that lives; a walking corpse that carves out human hearts; an accursed ring with a glowing eyeball at its center... instead, crippling lapses in logic derail the serious tone the filmmakers wish to establish. Questions arise like...

After the first murder, why don't the police cordon off professor Mueller's house as a crime scene? After the second killing why don't the police bother to remove the gory evidence in the room with the mummy where, lying on the tray holding Acatl's severed head, sits a freshly removed heart? Why is the mummy and Acatl's noggin kept in Professor Mueller's home anyway--as opposed to a museum? What classy lady would ever want to wear a ring with an eyeball on it? 

During one attack sequence, the victim is right next to an open door. Does he escape? No. He runs over into a corner. Why doesn't the policeman instantly realize something is amiss when he finds Marta brandishing the same knife the Mummy was holding while she stands in a trance-like state in her father's room? These are some of the plentiful, perplexing plotting malfunctions littering the production. Others involve the character of Xiu, the movie's "Mummy".

After he's revived, Xiu lumbers around for a chunk of the flick, gruesomely killing the desecrators of the tomb by cutting out their hearts. Towards the end, though, Xiu becomes more spry, running and leaping around the set--diminishing his otherworldy menace. Additionally, his mission to kill the infidels is inexplicably given to other players for no discernible reason than a late-blooming plot point used as a convenient means to kill off the antagonists.

Guillermo Cramer plays Xiu, the musclebound Mummy who isn't wrapped too tightly; actually, he isn't wrapped at all. Unlike the Aztec Mummy series, this ancient shambler looks the same as the time of his death centuries earlier. In later scenes when Xiu is sleeping in his sarcophagus, you can see him breathing. Guillermo Cramer appeared in dozens of movies, including two others dealing with cranial removal; THE HEAD OF PANCHO VILLA and THE RIDER WITHOUT A HEAD (both 1957).

THE LIVING HEAD was one of the titles to have been released by CasaNegra Entertainment, a label specializing in classic Mexican cinema; all exquisitely restored to a level not normally afforded niche market fare like this. Surfacing in 2006, the company was out of business roughly a year later. Nineteen titles were reported to be under their banner, but only half of them saw release. THE LIVING HEAD, along with the superior THE WORLD OF THE VAMPIRES, were both announced, but never released. Both titles were put out by Bach Films in France. The latter title also received an Italian DVD release from Luigi Cozzi's Sinister Films as LA VENDETTA DEL VAMPIRO. HEAD, however, had its English version previous available via Something Weird video, paired with THE LIVING COFFIN (1959). Creature Feature Video put out an English subbed edition from what is presumably a Spanish language VHS (the source of this review).

HEAD's first 20-30 minutes are very good, yet Urueta is unable to maintain his assured hand for the duration. As the picture nears the finale, it takes forever to finish. Characters move around like molasses dripping from a bottle; it's as if the filmmakers realized they were coming up short on footage and simply had cast members take turns being put under trances to pad the scenes of walking from set to another. Mummy completists and Mexi-horror mavens will want to see it--and likely the best audience to get the most out of this headless horror hokum. In the end, THE LIVING HEAD isn't good enough to stand alongside Mexi-horror's best; nor is it bad enough to share a spot with it's best of the worst.

Feature running time: 01:15:00 

Tribute To A Vampire: German Robles, Mexico's Master of Horror

On Saturday, November 21st, 2015, the world of cinema lost a great talent. Famous for his roles in Mexican horror films, actor German Robles has died at 86 years of age. Born on March 20th, 1929 as German Horacio Robles in Gijon, Spain, the internationally famous actor of stage and screen featured in over 90 motion pictures, some 600 TV programs and 30 telenovelas (self-contained soap operas that last a year or less). Among his other credits was lending his distinguished voice to many live-action and animated foreign features imported to Mexico; one of the most famous being the dubbed voice of KITT on the hit series KNIGHT RIDER (1982-1986) and films including THE SEVEN SAMURAI (1954) and THE GODFATHER (1972). 

 
In his early years, his family emigrated to Mexico when the young Robles was 17 years old. After graduating college and a stint as a professional dancer in 1948, he would become involved in theater productions in his early 20s, debuting on the stage in 1952 with 'The Martyr of the Cavalry' where he played Jesus Christ. Robles eventually found his way into movies, making his Silver Screen debut in 1957 with the classic EL VAMPIRO. 

Robles was also an award winning actor throughout his long career on stage and screen, including a Best Actor award for LA VIDA DE AGUSTIN LARA in 1958. Some of his other famous non-genre work include the adventure EL JARDIN DE LA TIA ISABEL (1971; THE GARDEN OF AUNT ISABEL) and the comedy LA PALOMA DE MARSELLA (1999; DOVE OF MARSELLA).

He acted as Arthur Kipp in the stage production of the horror play, LA DAMA DE NEGRO (THE LADY IN BLACK) for thirteen years (from 1994-2006), reportedly the longest of any actor without interruption; only exiting the production for health reasons.

Hospitalized at the Santa Elena Hospital in Mexico since November 12th, German Robles died from COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease) and Peritonitis at approximately 6am on Saturday, November 21st.

Married three times, Robles is survived by his wife of 33 years, Ana Maria Vazquez, and three children. Both Robles and his wife founded an actors training school in 2000.

In the following article, we pay tribute to the man who was a key contributor to the flood of theatrical terror unleashed in Mexico in the 1950s; and how his portrayals of vampires in a popular string of productions put a refreshing spin on the Lore of the Undead.

German Robles starred in a number of high-gloss productions and films of other genres, but he will always be most closely identified playing those blood-lusting creatures of the night, the vampire. Aside from the requisite cobweb infused crypts and Gothic ambiance, German Robles brought distinction to the undead lexicon in seven sangria-laced productions; the most famous of which was the suave, debonair Count Lavud and the Bond-style villainy of the fang-toothed Nostradamus.

Essaying his vampires with a touch of originality and familiarity, Robles was something of a trendsetter, irrefutably belonging on the same pedestal of prestige of his other late European colleagues, Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee. 

Bela Lugosi is the classic representation of Dracula, the vampire that is both parodied and paid tribute to. Christopher Lee is the life's blood, the personification of the vampire king. Largely unknown in the west, Robles carved his own unique interpretation that differed, but remained faithful to popular iconography of the Universal DRACULA (1933); and one that beat Hammer's iconic color version by nearly a year. 

What's important to note about German Robles is that, while there had been a few Mexican horror films prior to the groundbreaking EL VAMPIRO (1957), it was his charisma and tenacity (under the assured direction of Fernando Mendez) that solidified himself as a horror icon--invigorating the Mexi-horror industry for well over a decade. As Count Lavud in both EL VAMPIRO and THE VAMPIRE'S COFFIN (both in 1957), the films birthed a colony of Spanish language vampire movies all with their own unique mythology. Robles was to Mexican horror cinema what Santo was to Lucha Libre pictures. If not for the success of EL VAMPIRO (1957), we might not of gotten another classic example of Mexi-horror cinema, the Lucha horror favorite, SANTO VS. LAS MUJERES VAMPIRO (1961); or, as it is known in America, SAMSON VS. THE VAMPIRE WOMEN.

Robles brought a level of stoically evil menace that, while certainly not absent in the more famous renditions, was far more diverse than had been seen up to that time. In EL VAMPIRO (and his subsequent fanged forays), Robles' Count Lavud delightfully bares his fangs when he's about to sink those elongated incisors into a warm jugular. Robles is often cited as the first actor to play a vampire with fangs exposed, biting into a victim. NOSFERATU (1922) had pointy, rat-like teeth exposed, and Atif Kaptan of Turkey's DRAKULA ISTANBUL'DA (1953) had fangs jutting from his mouth; but Count Lavud is seen in close-up biting into the necks of his victims, which, up to that time, hadn't been seen before. Robles' vampire was not averse to extracting the blood of children, either; something not shown in the Uni-horrors of the 30s and 40s, nor the Hammer pictures till the 1970s.

Additionally, the rather large teeth wouldn't be seen again till Hammer Films adopted them in their 1970s 'blood and skin'  epics like VAMPIRE CIRCUS (1971) and their Karnstein Trilogy that made up THE VAMPIRE LOVERS (1970), LUST FOR A VAMPIRE (1971) and TWINS OF EVIL (1971).

Unlike most other vamps, Robles, as Lavud, has other sharp implements in his arsenal aside from his fangs; such as a sword he uses against Abel Salazar's hero during the fiery conclusion. A similar encounter occurred in Nobuo Nakagawa's THE LADY VAMPIRE in 1959. Christopher Lee would take up a sword to torture Patrick Troughton in one of Hammer's most unique Dracula pictures, SCARS OF DRACULA (1970).

Robles throttles a mini-army of midget bloodsuckers in THE VAMPIRES OF COYOACAN (1974).

Moreover, the two Robles Lavud films packed some fine cliffhanger moments in their finales that make the Hammer denouements anemic in comparison. What the Mexican pictures lacked in budgets they made up for in creativity. They may have looked remarkably similar to the Uni-horrors of old, but the Mexi-horrors foreshadowed the sort of violence Hammer would get up to in the ensuing years.

Robles played a vampire yet again in EL CASTILLO DE LOS MONSTRUOS (1958; THE CASTLE OF MONSTERS), Mexico's answer to ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN (1948). Essentially an extended cameo appearance, Robles doesn't appear till an hour in, and, like Christopher Lee in DRACULA: PRINCE OF DARKNESS (1966), never utters a word of dialog. Dressed in his Count Lavud attire, this vampire (he's never referred to by name) chases the goofy heroes around the title abode and is played strictly for laughs.

In 1959, Robles again played a vampire, but this time, it was a different sort of bloodsucker. In LA MALDICION DE NOSTRADAMUS (1959; THE CURSE OF NOSTRADAMUS), German Robles is the son of the infamous French seer, Michel de Nostredame; or simply Nostradamus. Ordered by the spirit of his father, the son of Nostradamus is commanded to convince a leading scientist, Dr. Duran, to the existence of vampires and other occult phenomenon. Naturally he refuses leading to a series of creative deaths and quirky characters that intervene to stop the vampire.

In the same year, Robles would appear as El Hijo de Nostradamus in three sequels: NOSTRADAMUS Y EL DESTRUCTOR DE MONSTRUOS (THE MONSTER'S DEMOLISHER), NOSTRADAMUS, EL GENIO DE LAS TINIEBLAS (GENIE OF DARKNESS) and LA SANGRE DE NOSTRADAMUS (BLOOD OF NOSTRADAMUS). 

As Nostradamus, German Robles plays this role very different from Count Lavud in both acting style and appearance. Sporting a goatee and wearing a derby hat and cape, Nostradamus is boisterous whereas Lavud was more cunning and deceptive. Nostradamus is very arrogant, proudly proclaiming his intentions with even more dialog than before--which Christopher Lee never got much of in his Dracula pictures. Additionally, and unlike Count Lavud, Nostradamus often used humans, alive or dead, to do his evil bidding.

Compared to an already meaty role as Lavud in the two previous movies, Robles got even more to chew on as Nostradamus, a four-film series consisting of three "episodes" a piece, compliant with the STIC union in Mexico. Film producers would sometimes bypass the STPC union for theatrical productions to take advantage of the cheaper resources afforded the STIC group. The Nostradamus films are quite a bit of fun, but look more cheaply made with the limited sets than Robles' previous outings. However, the bat effects are superior. He makes them worthwhile; and for fans of Mexi-horror, they're highly recommended for their peculiarly campy qualities alone.

Released straight to television in edited form by American International Pictures' TV division in the early 1960s, fans of the Nostradamus series and the actor mostly remember him from that medium; either at that time or in the 1980s on USA Network's Commander USA's Groovie Movies, which specialized in B/W Mexican horror movies and 70s Hammer horror.

Most famous for vampires in Fantastic Cinema, German Robles played a variety of other characters--both heroes and villains--in horror and other genres. Below is a list of some of his other works.

In THE BRAINIAC (1961), Robles went from sucking blood to having his brains sucked out of the back of his neck in this nutty camp classic. He plays a descendant of a group of Inquisitors who executed a warlock that has returned for revenge. Played by Abel Salazar, the title brain-sucker is one of the strangest looking monsters you've ever seen. 

German Robles entered the Lucha world in the drama-action, LA FURIA DEL RING (1961), playing the son of a gym owner who was killed for not fixing his wrestling matches. Features an early appearance by Blue Demon (and his real life tag partner, Black Shadow) before he embarked on his own successful film career. 

The actor was in full Peter Cushing mode as Professor Muller in Chano Urueta's LA CABEZA VIVIENTE (THE LIVING HEAD) from 1963. Leading an expedition to uncover an ancient Aztec tomb, Muller and crew bring a curse upon them after angering the title noggin and its soon-to-be-revived mummy-like servant. 

DIVISION NARCOTICOS (1963) finds the versatile actor playing the unsavory gang leader of a drug syndicate. Scenes of drug use and Robles hiding a large quantity of dope underneath a baby's clothes, using the child as a means of smuggling, turn this obscure bit of Mexi-sleaze into an ahead of its time thriller.

 
One of the man's most rare, obscure genre titles is the 1964 horror western, LA MURCIELAGOS (THE BATS). There's very little information available for this one outside of some promotional materials. According to some sources, the film goes by the alternate title of LOS VAMPIROS DEL OESTE (VAMPIRES OF THE WEST).

Robles was the head of a Karate school that attracts the attention of the police and the Mexican masked superhero Neutron in LOS ASESINOS DEL KARATE (1965; NEUTRON AGAINST THE KARATE KILLERS). This was the fifth and last of a B/W superhero series starring Wolf Ruvinskis as Neutron.

In 1967 Robles played Carlo, one the main villains in the lively comic book flick ROCAMBOLE VS. LA SECTA DEL ESCORPION (ROCAMBOLE VS. THE CULT OF THE SCORPION). The second of two films, Rocambole was a stageshow magician by day, Captain Mexico type superhero by night.

 
The actor returned to the Lucha Libre genre again in 1974 with LOS VAMPIROS DE COYACAN. Top billed over megastar Mil Mascaras and Superzan, Robles is a Van Helsing-type professor trying to stop a Yorga-esque vampire and his fang-toothed midget-minions from vampirizing the local populace, including the lovely Sasha Montenegro. 

German Horacio Robles may be gone but he leaves behind an impressive body of work that is rife for rediscovery both in his home country and abroad. Deserving of accolades for his contributions to the cinema of the Fantastique, the memory of the Spanish born actor will live on in film festivals and late night repeats highlighted by vampires seeking revenge, fresh blood and worldwide conquest. The Master now sleeps. Long Live the Memory of Mexico's Master of Horror.