[Philippines release date 18th July 1975; a Hong Kong-Filipino co-production, export title “Bruka Queen Of Evil”]
Director Albert Yu Producer Jimmy L. Pascual [other sources credit Jimmy with Screenplay] Dialogue Yuen Shiao Po Cameraman Leung Kwok Kuen Music Chow Fu Liang Editor Lee Yam Hai In Charge of Production Fely Pascual Production Manager Vic Kwong Assistant Director David Yau Interpretor Teddy Chiu [as Tedmund Chiu] Special Effects Michael Fung Lights Chui Kwok Kuen Makeup Soledad Mauricio Wardrobe Romana Tablate Stills Wong Tit Huang Setting Maurio Carmona Props Ng Chau Electrician Tiburcio Pacia
Cast Alex Lung, Rosemarie Gil, Etang “Ditched”/Discher (Bruka), Sandra de Veyra, Yukio Someno, Anthony Lee, Michael Kwan, Charlie Davao, Connie Angeles, Darius Razon, Tintoy, Matimtiman Cruz, Roldan Rodrigo, Bruno Punzalan, Greg Lozano, Ramon D’Salva, Pedro Faustino, Alfonso Carvajal, Eileen Montinola, Ben Manalo, Michael de Mesa, Rocco Montalban, Kristina Kasten, Sancho Tesalona, Eddie Nicart, Jimmy Cruz, Gigi Vellasenor
Review by Andrew Leavold
Back in 1974, a Filipino producer named Jimmy L. Pascual ended his two year run of Hong Kong-based kung fu productions and brought his film outfit to the Philippines to make a film called Devil Woman. Essentially a chop sockey cashing in on the kung fu craze like Pascual’s previous films (The Bloody Fists [1972], The Awaken Punch [1973] amongst others), Devil Woman is a rudimentary revenge saga with fantastic elements and snake motif, a familiar ingredient in Asian horror. Despite the regulation atrocious dubbing and wooden dialogue, Rosemarie Gil is positively regal as the snake-haired queen seeking revenge on the townsfolk for burning her parents alive, and the film was a minor hit, even receiving a theatrical run in the US, and has retained a small fanatical cult following thanks to Quentin Tarantino’s regular screenings.
For years, fans of Devil Woman saw posters for a film called Bruka Queen Of Evil featuring Rosemarie Gil’s distinctive coiffure, and assumed it was one of Devil Woman’s numerous export titles. When a trailer finally appeared, the Devil Woman herself, Manda the Snakewoman, was indeed in the film – but with entirely different footage of bats, walking trees, and an army of little people. Was this the Filipino cut of Devil Woman for the local market merely redubbed and resold, or an entirely different film? Alas, no version of Bruka could be found, even amongst the most intrepid of Asian collectors.
Imagine my surprise, then, to discover a copy of Bruka Queen Of Evil last month in my post box. Ten minutes later, I can confirm Bruka is no Devil Woman. Although made by the same production team and with many of the original’s cast, its immediate sequel Bruka is an entirely different creature. A quantum improvement on Devil Woman, the film throws open Manda’s own personal narrative, giving her both a legacy and a destiny, and adds a new protagonist’s magical quest against a seemingly improbable array of oddities.
Bruka begins as Devil Woman ends, with Manda engulfed in flames as she falls over a cliff. Miraculously she survives, and wakes in a cave next to a white-haired hag and a cadre of dwarves. “I’m your grandmother,” the hag Bruka declares, and to prove the point, unfurls her fifteen-foot snake body. She then shows Manda flashbacks to her birth in a crystal ball, revealing Manda’s mother to have chosen a mortal husband over her reptilian heritage. Manda’s so happy at the family reunion, she literally dances for joy! Surrounding her is a brand new arsenal for her protection: bats, rock creatures, tree-men, and shape-shifting dwarves into snakes. Veteran contrabida Charlie Davao is the test case, a poor villager who sees a figure under a sheet in his yard. It turns out to be a wooden cross covered in reptiles who almost drown him in venom. And with that, the Devil Woman sequel has already shape-shifted itself to the next level of weirdness.
Grandma Bruka now gives her granddaughter a special gift – a black stone which turns her head full of angry snakes into human hair for as long as she keeps the stone in her mouth. To test the theory, she goes for a jungle stroll and kisses the first unfortunate hippie with a guitar who stumbles upon her. Spitting out the stone, the snakes pounce. Exssssscelent! In Bruka, Manda is no longed killing simply for revenge, and is instead awakening her true inner evil, and exploiting her outward normalcy to indulge her more primal, destructive instincts.
In Bruka, Manda faces a new antagonist in the shape of poor and angry Chinese Hong Pin (Pascual’s kung fu kicking regular Alex Lung). He takes on the job of finding rich Mr Tony’s daughter Louisa to buy food for his ailing family. In an eerily effective sequence he walks into a village obliterated by Manda’s snake scourge, bodies strewn everywhere covered in flies and bite marks, and he helps bury the bodies alongside a priest (Ramon D’Salva) and his hunchbacked assistant. The forest is full of peril, warns the hunchback, and Hong Pin must seek a hermit’s help. And as if on cue, Bruka’s dwarves burst into the church, dissolve into snakes and cover the priest and cripple. With the hermit’s rope-belt-turned-into-a-pole, Hong Pin makes his way through hostile territory, through all manner of creatures, to the cave containing Louisa and her virginal companions, all ready to be sacrificed to the Snake Queens’ insidious blood cult.
Pascual’s Philippines output for his Emperor Films International included another starring role for Lung, Dragons Never Die (1974), released in the US on a double bill with Devil Woman, and three Tagalog horror films released in 1975 alone for the local market (Isinumpa, Pagsapit Ng Dilim and Pandemonium: Lupa, Langit At Impiyerno). But if there was ever destined to be Filipino Lords Of The Rings with evil, fondling, Riverdancing hobbits and bleeding trees, this is the one film to rule them all. Those with a snake phobia, BEWARE; those with eyebrows ready to be raised and a keenly-honed appreciation of the absurd, enjoy, and I’ll see you at Ermita’s all-dwarf bar Hobbit House for after-movie rum cocktails.
1972 – Night Of The Cobra Woman (New World Pictures)
[also known as “Movini's Venom”]
Director/Screenplay Andrew Meyer Story Andrew Meyer, Kerry Magness Producers Kerry Magness, Harvey Marks Executive Producer [uncredited] Roger Corman Cinematography Nonong Rasca Music Restie Umali Editors Gervacio Santos, Barbara Pokras Production Designer Ben Otico Gowns Ben Farrales Unit Manager Paquito Mac Lang Assistant Director Hernan Robles Property Master Ben Delinea Sound Recordist Willie Arce Special Effects Feling Hilario Snake Handler Gelacio Erica Wardrobe SupervisorFelisa Salcedo Production Assistant Norma Japitana Production Coordinator Eliong Navarro Script Supervisor Maria Abelardo Assistant Cameraman “June”/Jun Rasca Gaffer George Rosales Sound Effects Tony Gozalvez
Cast Joy Bang (Joanna), Marlene Clark (Lena Aruza), Roger Garrett (Stan Duff), Vic Diaz (Japanese Soldier/Lope, the mutant), Rosemarie Gil (Francisca, Lope's mother), Slash Marks (Sergeant Merkle), Vic Silayan (Dr. Tezon), Bert Rivera (Ramon, a young man), Jimmy Milanios (Benito), Logan Clarke (Collins), Andrew Meyer (Weston)
From John Wooley, Hot Schlock Horror! Dreamtrip Press, Tulsa Ok, 1992, pp.73-74
A young biology student named Joanna (Joy Bang) stumbles onto the legend of the Fire-Ring Cobra while studying snake venom in the Philippines. The Fire-Ring Cobra is supposed to carry the gift of immortality in its venom, and when Joanna finds out that a woman up in the hills may own one of these cobras, she and her boyfriend Duff (Roger Garrett) go up to check it out. The woman (Marlene Clark) steals Duff away and initiates him into the cobra cult. But when the Fire-Ring Cobra is killed they discover that the only other way to stay immortal is to, uh, make love all the time. This may sound like a good deal on the face of it, but Duff soon finds out he just can't stay up with the woman, and when she's not satisfied she begins turning into a giant cobra. Talk about performance anxiety! Meanwhile, Joanna has gotten hold of some Fire-Ring Cobra venom, run some tests and figured out what's going on, so she heads out after the woman who snatched her man. At the end, it's cute young biologist vs. hagged-out snake woman in a fight to the finish.
When you think of New World Pictures and the Philippine Islands, you generally think of the highly successful women-in-prison films New World shot there and released here, including such sweaty epics as THE BIG BIRD CAGE (the one that started the whole '70s women's-prison picture boom in 1972), THE HOT BOX (1972), and THE BIG DOLL HOUSE (1973).
But there were other films as well, like this one, an interesting but sometimes confusing blend of horror and sexual adventurism. NIGHT OF THE COBRA WOMAN was not one of New World's most successful films, and in the book THE MOVIE WORLD OF ROGER CORMAN, edited by J. Philip di Franco (Chelsea House, 1979), exploitation-film great Corman - head of New World at the time - is quoted as saying that the film wasn't a big hit because it "violated the laws of logic several times."
“In a horror or science-fiction film you can start with as outlandish a promise as you want,” Corman explained, “providing you are then logical in the treatment of that premise .... The film, although it was as well produced, directed and acted as any of the other low-budget horror films, did not do as well, and I always thought it was because of that break in the logical chain.”
Miss Bang, who owns one of the all-time great actress names, seems to have peaked career-wise in 1972, when no fewer than four films were released that featured her in substantial roles: COBRA WOMAN, CISCO PIKE with Kris Kristofferson, DEALING with Barbara Hershey, and PLAY IT AGAIN, SAM with Woody Allen.
Miss Clark was a VOGUE model who had a pretty good '72 as well, appearing with Jim Brown in the black-exploitation film SLAUGHTER and in the wacky comedy-horror picture BEWARE THE BLOB that year. Although she's also a veteran of Russ Meyer skin flicks, she may be best-known to exploitation-film fans for her role in the 1973 vampire picture GANJA AND HESS, playing Ganja to Duane Jones' Dr. Hess.
Chance are good that "Slash Marks," who played a G.I. victim of the cobra woman, is really co-producer Harvey Marks.
FROM THE PRESSBOOK: REALLY A SERPENTINE SEDUCTRESS?
"For a while I envisioned myself really turning into a serpent. All those scales are too much!” says Marlene Clark, star of NIGHT OF THE COBRA WOMAN. "Snakes may be sensuous, but I'd rather be myself.” Marlene refers, of course, to the incredibly heavy make-up she wore during the 'transformation scenes' in the film. "It literally took three hours to apply and another two to take off. Some amusing things did happen, though, " she continues. “Vic Diaz, a fantastic Filipino actor played the part of Lope, Francisca's deformed son. He wore a false eye during the entire film and really did a bang-up job.But one morning he started to sneeze and sneezed it right off! This broke everybody and everything up for another hour and a half, while the make-up man put it back on, and all day Vic teased us by threatening to sneeze again."
Filipino character actor Diaz is a familiar figure to fans of horror and exploitation films, appearing in, it seems, almost every American drive-in-style picture made in the Philippine Islands since the mid-'60s. He specializes in playing deformed and/or goofy characters - perhaps the goofiest being his gaseous vampire wannabe character in 1979's VAMPIRE HOOKERS.
Michael Weldon review in Weldon (ed), The Psychotronic Encyclopedia Of Film, New York, Ballantine Books, 1983, p.512
From the ads: "She sucks the life from the bodies of men!" Marlene Clark (Putney Swope) stars as a woman who can turn herself into a cobra. She needs constant lovemaking (and snake venom) to stay eternally young, so she steak the boyfriend of a young biology student (Joy Bang). With Roger Garrett and Slash Marks. Advertised as being in "Slitherama".
Black Horror Hall of Famer Marlene Clark is one mysterious figure. There's strangely little information on her to be found on the Internet beyond the fact that she's an ex-model who was once married to Billy Dee Williams (and who presumably to this day can't get the taste of Colt 45 out of her mouth). One thing that seems clear from her body of work, though, is that she has a fondness for: A) the Philippines and B) snakes. Amidst some success as a blaxploitation actress in films like Slaughter and Ganja and Hess, as well as integrated work in The Beast Must Die, Switchblade Sisters, and even a recurring role on "Sanford and Son", she starred as the magical baddie in a pair of serpent-themed Philippine horror movies: Black Mamba and Night of the Cobra Woman.
Both are slow-paced English-language films focusing on rural mythology, and both insist that Clark is evil, evil, EVIL. I don't know what it was about her that screamed "Satan spawn" to Filipinos -- perhaps her dark skin was exotic enough to be frightening -- but her naturally pleasant looks and kindly, classy demeanor don't translate to such on screen in either film. Thus, for the sake of Night of the Cobra Woman's watchability, it's a good thing she gets nekkid. In the movie, her big honking mammaries seduce man after man in order to replenish her youth and keep her from turning into a snake. It's never explained why sex works better than, say, Oil of Olay, but then again, little is adequately explained in this film. Like, why would Duff (Roger Garrett) go into the woods alone searching for this rumored "snake lady" when it's his girlfriend, Joanna (Joy Bang), who's the anti-venom researcher? We come to find out that the emotional state of a snake influences the effect of its venom, meaning that angry snakes kill and happy snakes heal. I guess horny snakes make you wanna bone everything in sight, because that's what cobra woman Lena (Clark) does. Duff becomes one of her conquests but soon realizes that once you go black, you really can't go back. Post-coitus, he finds himself aging rapidly; Lena explains that she had to (ahem) "suck the years" out of him in order to keep herself young and human. Now, he must rely on her to give him the venom needed to keep him young. In return, he keeps her supply of hormonal men coming...so to speak. It's inevitable that Lena must have a transformation scene, though, and when it occurs, it spurs unintentional laughs -- unless you're a big fan of papier-mache. Throw in popular voodoo deity Damballa, hot eagle-on-snake action, and a hunchback for good measure, and you'll find Night of the Cobra Woman a bit more outlandish than Black Mamba and a bit more entertaining only in that it shows more (that is, any) skin -- although really, you'll be hard-pressed to make it through either in one sitting. Hissssss....
WOW--another disciple request...and wow...we definitely weren't expecting this caliber of trashy fun from a Philippines lensed snake movie. It has it all--a doe-eyed college student played by Joy Bang (not kidding), Sexy Snake Queen seduction, seedy rituals, Sexy Snake Queen double-double cross, horrible transformations, cock fighting and a masturbation scene that is truly odd. Despite all that we have just told you, this film moves along at a fantastic and super watch-able pace. A refreshingly well made, hard R film--the Dirk Benedict snake potboiler SSSSSSS did a terrible job ripping off this awesome, dynamite film... And don't forget the cardinal rule "De-fanging a snake is like castrating a MAN!!"--amen to that...
Director George Rowe Writer Carl Kuntze Producer Alexander O. David Cinematography Justo Paulino Music Lamberto H. Avellana Jr Musical Director Lutgardo Labad Editor Rudy O. Montecajon Sound Engineers Willie de Santos, Gaudencio Barredo Sound Effects Antonio Gozalves Special Effects Ben Otico Opticals Boy Quilatan Production Manager Gerry Gerena Unit Manager Joel Rebonquin Assistant Director Rudy O. Montecajon Continuity David Delina, Edith Masangkay Negative Editor Elsa Avellana Stills Nor Torres Artwork/Titles Lito de la Cruz Makeup Artist Tony Artieda Choreography Amelia Apolinario Assistant Editors Greg Torres, Ben Samson, Greg Gonzales
Cast John Ashley (Dr Paul Morgan), Marlene Clark (Witch), Pilar Pilapil (Elena), Eddie Garcia (Fred), Rosemarie Gil (Barbara), Stevie Maniquez (Michael), Laurice Guillen (Nurse), Andres Centenera (Exorcist), Alfonso Carvajal (Storekeeper), “Antonio Carrion”/Tony Carreon (Parish Priest), Willie Nepomuceno (Ghoul), “Angel”/Angelo Ventura (Police Officer), Subas Herrero (Pathologist), Dick “Adaire”/Adair (Resident Doctor), Mary Walter (Old Woman), “Jimmy”/Jaime Fabregas (Librarian), [uncredited] Vivian Velez
This weird, little-seen Philippines-lensed horror film opens in a fog-shrouded graveyard, where we see a hunchback ghoul break into a crypt and cart off a body after stealing an unusual gold ring off the corpse's finger. As he is dragging the body through the graveyard, he is startled by the sudden appearance of a witch (Marlene Clark) dressed in black and he runs away. The ring ends up in a jewelry store and we see the witch purchase it. While in church, Elena (Pilar Pilapil) notices the ring on the witch's finger and has words with her outside. The ring belonged to Elena's dead husband and he was buried with it, so she wants to know why the witch is wearing it now. The witch turns and walks away and, in flashbacks, we learn that the witch was having an affair with Elena's husband a short time before he died. Elena and her young son Michael (Steve Maniquiz) now live with her sister Barbara (Rosemary Gil) and her husband Fred (Filipino stalwart Eddie Garcia). Fred wants a child of his own, but Barbara is incapable of having any (He tells Elena, "She's as barren as the Sahara!"), so he looks at Michael as his own son. The strain it is having on Fred and Barbara's marriage is highly evident. When the hunchback is found dead in the graveyard (the witch frightens him to death by putting a vision in his head that the body he is stealing has come back to life), the police ask kindly town doctor Paul Morgan (John Ashley) to perform an autopsy to find the cause of death. Paul is also treating the jewelry store shopkeeper (Alfonso Cavajal), who is having visions of the Grim Reaper (complete with scythe), since the witch put a spell on him for buying the ring from the hunchback. The witch makes a wax effigy of the shopkeeper and gives him a heart attack, killing him. Paul and Elena are having a picnic on the beach and a black bird steals Elena's handkerchief. The witch uses the hankerchief in one of her rituals (also including a wax doll) to give Elena severe headaches, forcing Elena to pass out at a bus stop. The witch weasels herself into Paul's life, but when the shopkeeper is finally found dead in his home nine days late, a thief is killed after jumping through the jewelry store window and Elena is seriously hurt and ends up in the hospital, Paul has to put aside his "logical explanations" and learn to fight the unknown with magic. When little Michael gets caught in the middle of this mess, good will have to fight evil (including using a medicine man , who tries to whip the evil out of Elena) in the ultimate battle of power.
Since this film never got a legitimate release in the United States until recently, it's not as well known as some other Filipino horror films made around the same time, like NIGHT OF THE COBRA WOMAN (1972, also starring Marlene Clark in a role similar to the one she plays here) or the many horror and action films the late John Ashley made there, including the BLOOD ISLAND trilogy and SAVAGE SISTERS (1974). Director George Rowe (FINAL MISSION - 1989) keeps the bloodshed and carnage to a minimum, relying on the supernatural elements, like voodoo ceremonies, visions and graveyard fog to convey a mood of dread. There is one gruesome scene where a coroner performs an autopsy on the shopkeeper's body, where he removes and cuts into the heart and extracts the brain using a bonesaw (after peeling back the scalp), but this sequence seems to have been inserted strictly for shock value (some say it's real autopsy footage) as it's out-of-place with the rest of the film. The screenplay (by Carl Kuntze) tries to find a parallel between modern medicine and ancient beliefs in witchcraft and how they both can be accepted as legitimate science. While there is no nudity in this film, a snake does crawl between Elena's legs and enters her snatch and, if I'm not mistaken, Old Scratch makes an appearance during a ritual involving dancing girls dressed in red (It is his favorite color after all!). There is also an exorcism (THE EXORCIST was new and novel at the time) and, if you ever wanted to see John Ashley deliver a baby, pick it up with one hand and slap it on the ass, then this is the film for you. Some may find this too dull andsoap opera-like to sustain interest. It's rarity makes it worth at least one look in my book. Also starring Willie Nepomuceno (as the hunchback), Laurice Guillen, Antonio Carrion and Andres Centenera. Is it just me or does John Ashley seem to sleepwalk through his role here? The print I viewed looks like a dub taken from a worn, soft-looking 16mm print with some noisy and scratchy sound problems. It's watchable, though. Now available on DVD as part of the BLOOD-O-RAMA 4 movie compilation from Image Entertainment. The print on the DVD is not much better than the print I viewed and it has new, video-generated titles. Not Rated.
UPDATE: Screenwriter Carl Kuntze emailed CritCon with this juicy bit of behind-the-scenes information: "The making of BLACK MAMBA was more interesting than how the movie turned out. The autopsy was supposed to be conducted by a certified pathologist, who hadn't shown up as promised. A Filipino morgue attendant volunteered. "I will be the one. I know how." He didn't even have proper instruments. When the doctor showed up five hours after the filming was over, he was shocked at the condition of the body. It was completely mangled. It had to be buried in a sealed coffin. The relatives of the corpse, who was convicted of capital crimes, had consented to the autopsy for the money to bury him. Had they seen the body, they might have committed some mangling themselves. John Ashley and most of the production crew were puking their guts out. I reshot the autopsy using a pig's brain and entrails. The skull was reconstructed from ceramics by an artist. A reviewer complimented the protocol. The producer himself used a surgical saw. I intended to rewrite it according to the original premise: Santeria (Palo Mayombe). I didn't have a devil worship scene, and my doctor was not in The Peace Corps. He was an incompetent hiding his failings in a small town. John Ashley did his best acting in this movie. He should have taken it more seriously."
Michael Weldon's review in Psychotronic Magazine #32 (2000) p.72
Marlene Clark (the black American beauty also in Night Of The Cobra Woman) is a witch who uses voodoo to curse the widow Elana (Pilar Pilapil). Elana and her cute little boy are staying with her sister (Rosemarie Gil) and her wealthy husband. A cat that becomes a death figure with a scythe, a snake that becomes an evil nurse and a crippled, scarred hunchbacked grave robber help the witch. Ashley plays the selfless nice guy doctor who makes house calls and eventually confronts the witch. An old priest brutally whips Elana as part of an exorcism ritual. In my favorite scene, the witch travels to a huge cave where she and many females, all in short red dresses, dance by a fire in front of the devil himself (!). Eddie Garcia is a police officer. With flashbacks and nightmares.Ashley said it was shot at the same time as Savage Sisters, but was never released in America. He also said that a real corpse was used in an autopsy scene, which may have been true for close-ups, but before the cutting starts, the man can be seen moving.
BLACK MAMBO (directed by George Rowe), a Philippines-made horror effort starring the late, great John Ashley in one of the many exploitation films he starred in over there, and probably the rarest. A young widow named Elena (Pilar Pilapil) is shocked to discover the ring of her recently deceased husband on the finger of African American woman (Marlene Clark, who had also had the lead in another Philippines thriller, THE NIGHT OF THE COBRA WOMAN) who happens to be devil-worshipping, voodoo practicing witch. Elena makes the mistake of confronting the witch outside a church, and she in turn puts all sorts of spells and curses on the single mother, who lives with her caring sister (Rosemarie Gil, DEVIL WOMAN) and her brother-in-law (Eddie Garcia, star of countless Philippines movies, including a memorable turn as “Dr. Lorca” in BEAST OF BLOOD). The concerned Dr. Paul Morgan (Ashley) steps up to help, but it takes a lot before he believes in all the mumbo jumbo behind Elena’s dilemma. BLACK MAMBA is never as delirious, imaginative or exploitive as other Philippines horrors of the period and the story tends to be confusing. There are some nice moments tossed into the mix (a storekeeper who keeps hallucinating a Grim Reaper, Clark making love to a very ethnic-looking horned Lucifer, a snake crawling up a woman’s leg, etc.), but most red-blooded male viewers will naturally wish that the very lovely actresses (Pilapil, Gil, Clark) had shed some skin, especially since this is 1974 we're talking about. Still, this is a must-see for Philippines horror/exploitation completists. The full screen transfer is very below par, looking extremely dupey and soft, with pale bleeding colors, but almost watchable knowing the rareness of the title. The mono audio is not bad but tends to screech during some of the louder moments.
With a title like Black Mamba, you might have figured this was a movie about— oh, I don’t know— maybe a killer snake? Yeah, well you might have figured Snake People was about snake people, too. Actually, Black Mamba is a lot like Snake People, for not only do both movies promise us snakes which they have little intention of delivering, they both give us instead some pretty crazy tropical black magic. The key difference (apart, I mean, from this movie hailing from the Philippines, while the other is of Mexican origin) is that Black Mamba is really a pretty decent little voodoo flick.
It’s hard to go wrong by starting with a grave robbery. Black Mamba’s opening-scene tomb-breaker is a bestial hunchback (Willie Nepomuceno) who seeks not the bodies of the dead, but the valuables that were buried with them. In particular, we see him make off with a golden ring worked into the likeness of a hooded face. The bauble in question turns up the next day in the local general store, where the shopkeeper (Alfonso Carvajal, from The Mad Doctor of Blood Island and Black Mama, White Mama) sells it to a woman (Marlene Clark, of The Beast Must Die and Beware! The Blob) dressed in what looks to be mourning attire. That ring gets the woman into trouble an unspecified amount of time later, for it happens to catch the eye of Elena (Pilar Pilapil), its original owner and the widow of the man from whose grave it was pilfered, while she and the ring-wearer are attending services in the same church. Elena has angry words with the other woman after the mass concludes, and though we don’t get to hear the argument (in a surprising touch of artiness, the confrontation scene plays silent apart from the insistent pealing of the church bells), one gets the distinct impression that they have met somewhere before. And indeed they have; shortly thereafter, the woman who bought the ring has a flashback revealing that she had been the dead man’s girlfriend before Elena came along, putting a very different spin on everything that has happened since she saw the ring in the store’s front window. And as if the flashback itself hadn’t served as sufficient cause for reappraisal, the furnishings of the room in which it transpires demonstrate pretty conclusively that Elena’s rival is a witch.
As for Elena, her husband’s death left her with apparently few resources for supporting her son, Michael (Steve Maniquez), and she is relying, at least for the time being, on the charity of her sister, Barbara Gomez (Rosemarie Gil, of Naked Vengeance and Devil Woman). Barbara’s husband, Fred (Eddie Garcia, from Blood of the Vampires and Beast of Blood), is evidently an extremely successful businessman of some kind, although we’ll never learn precisely what he does for a living. The important thing is that the Gomezes live in easily the biggest and poshest house in their little town, and Fred’s income is such that he professes no hardship in supporting Elena and her son indefinitely. Elena’s present living arrangements entail a certain amount of friction, however, for Fred is disconcertingly open about believing that he picked the wrong sister. This is because all evidence indicates that Barbara is infertile, and there’s nothing Fred wants more than to be a father. He may be able to scratch his parental itch to some extent by playing surrogate dad to Michael, but that outlet will exist only so long as Elena remains in the house. Needless to say, Fred is in no hurry to see his sister-in-law make good her intention of moving to Manila.
On the night following the altercation in church, the witch, evidently hell-bent on preventing the hunchback from corroborating any story that Elena might tell the authorities regarding the stolen ring, uses her magic to eliminate him. Old Quasimodo is back in the cemetery, and as soon as he cracks open a coffin, the witch reanimates the body inside, literally scaring the grave-robber to death. This proves not to be a very smart move in the long run, though, as the dead body beside the open tomb inevitably draws attention from the local chief of police (Angelo Ventura, from Beyond Atlantis and The Twilight People), who quickly calls in Dr. Paul Morgan (John Ashley, of Frankenstein’s Daughter and Beast of the Yellow Night) to help him figure out what killed the hunchback. What makes this a potentially serious development for the witch is that Morgan has ties to practically everybody on whom she will be setting her sights in the coming days, meaning that he’ll be in as good a position as anyone to spot the pattern of mysterious misadventures as it forms. It is to Morgan that the shopkeeper turns when the witch places a curse on him, haunting him with visions of death and eventually striking him down by breaking the humanoid candle she was using as his effigy. Paul and his old mentor (Subas Herrero, from Savage Sisters and Bamboo Gods and Iron Men) wind up performing the autopsy on the shopkeeper, too, when a spectacularly failed burglary at the general store (the would-be thief is killed by one of the witch’s familiars, a Siamese cat with the power to assume the form of the Grim Reaper) leads to the discovery of the old man’s body. More importantly, Paul is also beginning (much to Fred’s consternation) a tentative romance with Elena. Morgan is therefore on the scene when the witch, in the form of a little blackbird, steals Elena’s handkerchief in order to make a voodoo doll of her. He is there to lead her treatment when the ensuing campaign of paranormal persecution begins to take its toll on Elena’s nerves. He is able to help Fred intervene when Barbara hires an exorcist (Andres Centenara, from The Big Bird Cage and Brides of Blood) to drive out the witch’s influence via a dangerous course of sympathetic magic. (The exorcist flogs Elena with a whip made from a stingray’s tail; the idea is that each blow will be felt by the witch as well.) Eventually, Morgan sees enough really weird shit that he begins to take seriously the possibility that Elena has been cursed by a witch— at least to the extent of accepting that Elena and her unknown enemy’s mutual belief in black magic is enough to make the curse as good as real for both parties. With a little help from the local librarian (Jaime Fabregas), Paul sets out to find the supposed magician, and combat her on her own terms. Of course, the witch has allies, too, having placed her second familiar (a speckled, gray snake that is the closest we’ll ever get to the titular black mamba) within the Gomez household in the guise of a nurse (Laurice Guillen).
Although it is compromised by paltry production values and a lethargic pace (to say nothing of the conspicuous absence of any black mambas), Black Mamba impressed me a good deal more than I was expecting it to. Working in the Philippines seems to have done wonders for John Ashley’s acting. Maybe he just grew up, or maybe his increasingly obvious has-been-hood gave him the perspective necessary to jettison the leftover performing tics from his previous career as a failed teen heartthrob, but by the mid-1970’s, he had most definitely mastered the trick of working within his limitations instead of ramming headlong into them the way he had in earlier years. He’s still as far from greatness as he ever was, but like Lon Chaney Jr. in his prime, the John Ashley of Black Mamba and its contemporaries has found something he can do, and has made the most of it. And if we’re comparing Ashley to the younger Chaney, then we might liken writer Carl Kuntze and director George Rowe to frequent Chaney collaborators Curt and Robert Siodmak, respectively. Both men bring an unaffected, workmanlike solidity to Black Mamba, marshalling their not-always-adequate resources (both material and creative) to occasionally striking effect. Kuntze in particular wins my respect for bringing Paul Morgan into the witch-hunting business on terms that square completely with the determinedly rationalist worldview that he displays throughout the first two thirds of the film. We may know the witch’s powers are real, but Morgan has no reason to; by making him approach witchcraft as (in the words of the librarian) “one of the oldest forms of psychological warfare,” Kuntze gives the doctor plausible license to fight fire with fire, without ever having to set up the usual “Whoa… There really is such a thing as magic!” scene. As for Rowe, his most admirable contributions are probably his success in wringing a bit of honest creepiness out of that two-bit Grim Reaper and the surprisingly un-crass way in which he deploys Black Mamba’s most notorious exploitation gambit, the use of stock autopsy footage in the scene where Morgan and the other doctor give the shopkeeper his post-mortem examination. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it “tasteful” (I’m not convinced there is a tasteful way to recycle clips of real-life medical examiners chopping real-life holes in a real-life dead guy’s thoracic cavity), but Rowe does at least manage to make it seem not flagrantly disrespectful. But Black Mamba’s best feature is probably the easiest to overlook— the absolutely first-rate soundtrack by Lamberto H. Avellana Jr. Avellana seems never to have scored another movie, either before or since, and that’s a damn shame. His prickly, almost atonal music is eerie in the extreme, and gives a sizeable assist even to such overwhelmingly stupid scenes as the one that has the witch and a chorus line of crimson-clad women we’ve never seen before performing a sort of interpretive dance for the amusement of Satan and his goat-headed minions. Anybody who can so much as lead you to imagine the possibility of selling something like that deserves a great deal of respect. (**½)
Compared to Night of the Cobra Woman, Black Mamba suffers the double whammy of being less serpent-centric and less booby-centric, making for the dullest movie I've seen featuring zombies, voodoo dolls, a hunchback, Satan, "Manimal"-like transmutations, bestiality, an exorcism, and Death itself. The film opens with a hunchback doing what hunchbacks do best: robbing graves. He messes with the wrong tomb, though, when he takes a ring from the corpse of Dante, a man who happens to have once romanced a witch (Clark). Quasimod'oh! Through hazy "Love American Style"-flashbacks, we learn that the witch still has fond memories of Dante, and that Dante resembles Julio Caesar Chavez in a leisure suit. Fashion taste aside, she still loves the guy and takes offense to Hunchy stealing a ring off his cold, dead fingers and selling it to a local pawn shop. She takes such offense that she punishes not only Hunchy but the pawn shop owner and a random burglar who just happens to beak into the store as well, literally scaring them to death with visions of zombies and the Grim Reaper. (Enter an opportunity for the filmmakers to splice in tasteless clips of a real autopsy.) Turns out, though, that Witchy isn't Dante's widow; some gal named Elena (Pilar Pilapil) is, and she's none too pleased to see Witchy strolling around town wearing her dead husband's ring (which she got from the pawn shop). Elena confronts her outside a church, and Witchy gives her a look like, "Beyaaatch!" It's so on! ...Or not. Instead, we segue into the treacly B story about Elena's sister Barbara (Rosemarie Gil from Night of the Cobra Woman) worrying that her husband Fred doesn't love her any more because she's barren. Save it for Oprah, lady; maybe you should focus on why your sister keeps getting voodoo headaches. Meanwhile, Paul (John Ashley, a Philippine horror movie veteran who for my money did his best work as the narrator in "The A-Team") is a Marlboro Mannish crime-solving doctor who's called in to solve the case. And what a tough case it is! I mean, perhaps you should question the six foot-tall black lady walking around the Philippines in a hooded robe, carrying an effigy...? "You mean the lady with the corpse ring who has a pentagram on her floor? But she's so kind to animals!" Indeed, Witchy is a regular Aquawoman, using beasts to do her bidding: a black bird, a black dog, a black mamba...Do we see a trend? Granted, a black mamba isn't technically black (and is native to Africa, not the Philippines), but who am I to dictate racial identity? Eventually, Elena goes nutty after dreaming about Satan and waking to find a snake between her legs -- and not in a good, mainstream pornographic way -- but only after Barbara gets an exorcist/wizard to beat the ills out of Elena with a whip (which doesn't work). As you can see, there's an exhausting amount of story in Black Mamba. In many ways it's actually a high-minded film dealing with superstition in modern society and giving insight into the different types of witchcraft. Unfortunately, this is a movie, not Wikipedia, so it ends up dreadfully dull and suffers from low production values, poor film quality, and let's face it, being made in the '70s. As with Night of the Cobra Woman, it's hard to buy the classy, even-tempered Clark as evil. Her worst sin might be her performance, which, judging from the seemingly dubbed-over dialogue, might not even be her fault.
[also released as "Escape From Women's Hell Hole" and on US VHS as "Women Of Hell's Island"]
Director/Executive Producer Cirio H. Santiago Story/Screenplay Ken Metcalfe, Cirio H. Santiago Music Nonong Buencamino Cinematography Benjamin L. Lobo Editors Willy Ascunion, Rufino Cabrales, Gervacio Santos Production Designer Ben Otico
Cast Ingrid Greer, Nanette K. Martin, Kerry Nichols [listed on IMDB as Carry], Bernadette Williams [listed on IMDB as Beate], Ken Metcalfe, Rosemarie Gil, Sherry Greenwood, Jose Mari Avellana, Bill Baldridge, Nigel Hogge, Victor Ordonez, Bob Hood, Easy Black, Helen Kennedy, Marlene Robbins, Chona Alcaras, Adriane Donion, Cathy Schroeder, Karen Muller, Lory Sherman, Kim Wilkin, Julia Barry, Veronica Candia, Tricia Melosa, Liza Ohlen, Jill Guges, Cathy Guges, Russ Jenkins, Medy Gillego, S.P. Victoria
Directors Ric Santiago, Jose [Flores] Sibal Producer Larry Santiago
Cast J.C. Bonnin (Zimatar), Ace Vergel, Al Tantay, Michael De Mesa, Leo Delfin, Jing Abalos, Tony Carreon, Rosemarie Gil, Leila Hermosa, Lucita Soriano, Ruel Vernal
1975 – Bruka (Emperor Films International) 
Review by Andrew Leavold
Imagine my surprise, then, to discover a copy of Bruka Queen Of Evil last month in my post box. Ten minutes later, I can confirm Bruka is no Devil Woman. Although made by the same production team and with many of the original’s cast, its immediate sequel Bruka is an entirely different creature. A quantum improvement on Devil Woman, the film throws open Manda’s own personal narrative, giving her both a legacy and a destiny, and adds a new protagonist’s magical quest against a seemingly improbable array of oddities. 
Bruka begins as Devil Woman ends, with Manda engulfed in flames as she falls over a cliff. Miraculously she survives, and wakes in a cave next to a white-haired hag and a cadre of dwarves. “I’m your grandmother,” the hag Bruka declares, and to prove the point, unfurls her fifteen-foot snake body. She then shows Manda flashbacks to her birth in a crystal ball, revealing Manda’s mother to have chosen a mortal husband over her reptilian heritage. Manda’s so happy at the family reunion, she literally dances for joy! Surrounding her is a brand new arsenal for her protection: bats, rock creatures, tree-men, and shape-shifting dwarves into snakes. Veteran contrabida Charlie Davao is the test case, a poor villager who sees a figure under a sheet in his yard. It turns out to be a wooden cross covered in reptiles who almost drown him in venom. And with that, the Devil Woman sequel has already shape-shifted itself to the next level of weirdness.
Grandma Bruka now gives her granddaughter a special gift – a black stone which turns her head full of angry snakes into human hair for as long as she keeps the stone in her mouth. To test the theory, she goes for a jungle stroll and kisses the first unfortunate hippie with a guitar who stumbles upon her. Spitting out the stone, the snakes pounce. Exssssscelent! In Bruka, Manda is no longed killing simply for revenge, and is instead awakening her true inner evil, and exploiting her outward normalcy to indulge her more primal, destructive instincts.
In Bruka, Manda faces a new antagonist in the shape of poor and angry Chinese Hong Pin (Pascual’s kung fu kicking regular Alex Lung). He takes on the job of finding rich Mr Tony’s daughter Louisa to buy food for his ailing family. In an eerily effective sequence he walks into a village obliterated by Manda’s snake scourge, bodies strewn everywhere covered in flies and bite marks, and he helps bury the bodies alongside a priest (Ramon D’Salva) and his hunchbacked assistant. The forest is full of peril, warns the hunchback, and Hong Pin must seek a hermit’s help. And as if on cue, Bruka’s dwarves burst into the church, dissolve into snakes and cover the priest and cripple. With the hermit’s rope-belt-turned-into-a-pole, Hong Pin makes his way through hostile territory, through all manner of creatures, to the cave containing Louisa and her virginal companions, all ready to be sacrificed to the Snake Queens’ insidious blood cult. 
Pascual’s Philippines output for his Emperor Films International included another starring role for Lung, Dragons Never Die (1974), released in the US on a double bill with Devil Woman, and three Tagalog horror films released in 1975 alone for the local market (Isinumpa, Pagsapit Ng Dilim and Pandemonium: Lupa, Langit At Impiyerno). But if there was ever destined to be Filipino Lords Of The Rings with evil, fondling, Riverdancing hobbits and bleeding trees, this is the one film to rule them all. Those with a snake phobia, BEWARE; those with eyebrows ready to be raised and a keenly-honed appreciation of the absurd, enjoy, and I’ll see you at Ermita’s all-dwarf bar Hobbit House for after-movie rum cocktails.
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