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Plot: kept woman is targeted by psychotic killer in luxury high-rise tenement.

Amidst the mid-80s slasher deluge Mexico contributed an old-fashioned suspense and terror flick in the British and American tradition that feels a decade older than it is. It might not have the sheer weirdness of The Mansion of Madness (1973) nor the brazen insanity of Satánico Pandemónium (1975) or Alucarda (1977) but taken for what it is Terror y Encajes Negros (or Terror and Black Lace internationally) remains enjoyable. Often wrongly described as either a very late giallo or an incredibly mild slasher Terror and Black Lace actually is neither. Boil it down to its essentials and you have a fairly typical Latin domestic melodrama enlivened only by a truly mesmerizing lead actress in the habit of parading around in skimpy lingerie and a thriller subplot amounting to a very tense 20-30-minute conclusion. Above all else Terror and Black Lace echoes The Centerfold Girls (1974) or When A Stranger Calls (1979) in varying degrees and sometimes borders on a Maniac (1980) character study. Hell, it even has a giallo-inspired title, if all of the above wasn’t enough. Next to that, more often than not, it feels like a 90-minute pilot to a very deranged (and unproduced) telenovela.

Luis Alcoriza was a respected Mexican screenwriter, film director, and actor who was born in Spain. He fled the country in 1940 to escape the Spanish Civil War and persecution by fascist dictator Generalísimo Francisco Franco because of his Republican affiliation. He emigrated to Mexico where he wrote 90 screenplays over half a century (1946-1996) and directed 24 films in 29 years (1961-1990). His Tlayucan (1962) was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film and his Life Is Most Important (1987) was entered into the 15th Moscow International Film Festival. Terror and Black Lace is an offering from Alcoriza’s twilight years and probably not representative for the rest of his repertoire. It’s decent enough for what it is but it’s telling when Argentinian genre precursor The Curious Dr. Humpp (1966) was far more risqué some two decades earlier. Which doesn’t mean that Terror and Black Lace isn’t distinct in its own ways. Unbelievable as it may sound Terror and Black Lace won an Ariel Award by the Academia Mexicana de Artes y Ciencias Cinematográficas (Mexican Academy of Cinematographic Arts and Sciences or AMACC) for Best Supporting Actress (Guzmán) with further nominations for Best Actress (Guardia) and Best Score (Pedro Plasencia). There’s a lot to like in Terror and Black Lace even if it’s more regressive than innovative. But, as always, you could do far worse than this.

Isabel Chabel (Maribel Guardia) is the beautiful stay-at-home trophy wife of overzealous, bovine entrepreneur Giorgio Martinez (Gonzalo Vega). Giorgio is an abusive impotent wretch of a man riddled with petty insecurities and hang-ups. Plus, he systematically fails to treat Isabel with the dignity and respect she deserves. Isabel is a kept woman living her best life in a golden cage of opulence and abundance. The couple own a penthouse in a state-of-the-art high-rise tenement bustling with life where their every wish is indulged by either errand girl Coquis (Claudia Guzmán) or the building manager/administrator (Ángel Domínguez). Isabel spends her days sunbathing on the deck, working out in the health club, and going for shopping trips in the city. On one such trips she meets strapping young man Rubén (Jaime Moreno) and is swept off her feet. Temptation briefly looms for Chabel as she considers embarking on an affair with the young man. When things turn hot and heavy she submits to Giorgio and his terrible mood swings again. In the studio below hers live three party girls (Olivia Collins, Martha Ortiz, and Gabriela Goldsmith, as Gabriela Goldsmeith) and above there’s musician César (Claudio Obregón). When a prostitute (Alejandra Espejo) and shopping mall patron (Leticia Lamas) die under mysterious circumstances the police (Ángel Heredia and Francisco Rolon) are called in for help and start conducting an investigation. One night the girls below Isabel are having an extremely loud party and her phone is out of service. It’s exactly on this night that Isabel witnesses Coquis getting slain by an unseen assailant and the figure disposing of her body. What Isabel doesn’t know is that the harmless looking César is in fact deeply psychotic and obsessed by manes. Coquis was the latest to fall victim to his homicidal proclivities. Trapped in the same building and with nowhere to run – will she survive?

How do you even begin to describe someone as enchanting and multi-faceted as Costa Rican belleza Maribel Guardia? Famous for her long and voluminous black hair and curvaceous figure Guardia is ubiquitous and omnipresent and has left an indelible mark on Mexican popular culture at large You name it, marvelous Maribel probably has done it. Born in May 1959 Maribel’s initial claim to fame was being anointed Miss Costa Rica 1978, the same year she competed in the Miss World 1978 in in London, UK and Miss Universe pageant in Acapulco where she was Miss Photogenic. Almost immediately Guardia was offered a development contract with Televisa producer Sergio Bustamante. As an actress Maribel was flexible and comfortable doing anything from chorizo westerns and action movies to light-hearted (and more often than not sexy) comedies and dramas. In Mexico By Hook or By Crook (1986), The Scorpion (1986), Cabaret Woman (1991) and Persecuted (1991) are well liked and to the cult world she’s forever associated with Terror and Black Lace. On television she starred in multiple telenovelas (soap operas) and as a singer she released a series of albums in the Norteño music genre on a variety of label imprints. Whether you know her as an actress, model, singer, television hostess, or media personality Maribel was, is, and continues to be, everywhere. Back at home in Mexico she’s one of most photographed celebrities and the domestic media collectively refers to her as 'La Bella' (the beauty, the beautiful). As of 2022, it’s clear that Guardia has been impervious to infirmity and decline and is remarkably well-preserved for her blessed age. At a ripe 63 Maribel continues to effortlessly turn heads and she remains as stunningly elegant as ever.

This being a Guardia star vehicle Luis Alcoriza sees to it that 26-year-old Maribel gets to parade some of the finest haute couture and director of photography Xavier Cruz ensures that her beauty is properly captured for the ages. Alcoriza and co-writer Ramón Obón invent every sort of imaginable situation to have Guardia modeling various dresses, business suits, a pastel-colored g-string spandex during her workout routines, and even some skimpy black lace lingerie. This movie bears its giallo/slasher title for a reason and it makes sure the audience knows too. If that wasn’t enough marvelous Maribel gets to take more than plenty of long, hot showers to satiate anybody’s craving. What other way to describe Maribel Guardia than the predecessor to Salma Hayek and what is she if not the Mexican Helga Liné, Barbara Bouchet, Rosalba Neri or, god forbid, Edwige Fenech. Maribel Guardia looks absolutely ravishing in whatever she’s wearing as does Claudia Guzmán in her more casual attire. Surprisingly, guest star Gabriela Goldsmith later became a pillar in Mexican television and cinema despite not being much of a presence here. Guardia and Guzmán both won Ariel Awards for their performances here which sort of suggests that this was a foray into horror light for the award season. Terror and Black Lace is under the mistaken impression that it is a high-brow social realist drama with an important message, something for the elite and the intelligentsia. Clearly it wants to say something, anything, about the role of women in mid-eighties Mexico yet it’s never exactly clear what. Alcoriza and his writers desperately want this to be some grand work of socio-political importance but it’s lost on us what exactly that’s supposed to be. If nothing else, it goes a long way in explaining why Terror and Black Lace never really commits to being horror. It apparently was very progressive for its time as well.

Then there’s the question how much, if at all, it was representative for the state of Mexican horror in the mid-to-late ‘80s. The most obvious and simple answer to that would be a resounding “no.” Rubén Galindo, Jr., for example, released Cemetery Of Terror (1985) the same year and Grave Robbers (1989) a few years later. What’s clear is that we’re a long way from the ecclesiastical horror of Satánico Pandemónium (1975) and the general insanity of Juan López Moctezuma and his The Mansion of Madness (1973), Mary, Mary, Bloody Mary (1975) and his magnum opus Alucarda (1977). None of which really takes away that Terror and Black Lace can be an effective, unassuming little shocker whenever it can stop focusing on the telenovela melodramatics and embrace its murkier, sleazier side. Unfortunately, that happens not nearly as much, enough, or at all to work. The best thing that can be said about Terror and Black Lace is that at least it’s interesting from a structural standpoint. Plot wise it nearly isn’t as rigid (or as formulaic, whichever you prefer) as the typical slasher from around this time, neither is it for that matter a carefully crafted slowburn on the model of Maniac (1980) or Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986). In a post-Maniac (1980) world Terror and Black Lace feels more like an old-fashioned terror and suspense flick in tradition of Wicked, Wicked (1973), The Town That Dreaded Sundown (1976) and When A Stranger Calls (1979). Except without any of the tension, atmosphere, or dread. Its closest cousin is probably Pete Walker’s Die Screaming Marianne (1971) and it never gets as vile as, say, The Centerfold Girls (1974) or The Toolbox Murders (1978). Marvelous Maribel makes it worthwhile regardless of what you think of it.

Plot: criminals and hostages end up in bar somewhere on the Mexican border….

There’s no contesting that the ‘90s were pretty dark and abysmal time for the horror genre. Much of it had devolved into thrillers, self-aware or otherwise, on the one hand and comedy on the other. Hollywood had attempted to revive the classic gothic with Frankenstein Unbound (1990), Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) and Interview With the Vampire (1994) and Wes Craven’s Scream (1996) had resurrected (but not necessarily improved) the tired and tiring slasher for an entire new generation. Mexico always had been a steady haven for horror and earned its place in cult cinema history thanks to a handful of titles in the golden age. Who better to bring the Mexican spirit to America than the country’s promising export with the help from Hollywood’s hottest young new talent? From Dusk Till Dawn, or one of the best horror films of the ‘90s, may not reinvent the wheel but it puts a fresh spin on an old formula. What more could you possibly want? Occasionally the Hollywood machine gets something right.

What was From Dusk Till Dawn if not two friends getting together and throwing one hell of a kegger? These two friends just happened to be Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino. As the legend goes, Tarantino had offered the script to special effects man Robert Kurtzman to direct but he declined. This prompted Tarantino to hand it to Rodriguez and he gladly accepted. Kurtzman in turn lend his talents to the effects with his Kurtzman, Nicotero & Berger EFX Group. The time was right. Rodriguez had just legitimized himself in the face of the Hollywood bigwigs, first by making El Mariachi (1992) by the skin of his teeth on a very modest budget of $7,000 and he had admirably evinced that he could handle a sizable budget with the remake Desperado (1995) the year before. Presumably something of a diversion in between serious projects Rodriguez and Tarantino threw this curveball in between Desperado (1995) and The Faculty (1998) as well as the 1970s crime epic valentine Pulp Fiction (1994) and the blaxploitation tribute Jackie Brown (1997), respectively. Not only was From Dusk Till Dawn Tarantino’s first paid writing gig (he also executive produced and acted to help his friend Rob out), it’s also somewhat of an anomaly in the filmographies of both as Tarantino and Rodriguez haven’t made a horror before or since. A decade later both would reunite for Grindhouse (2007) but that was more of a valentine to ‘60s/’70s drive-in exploitation rather than a straight-up horror. Eli Roth has done more for exploitation horror than Rodriguez or Tarantino ever did. All quabbles and reservations aside, the spirit of Juan López Moctezuma proudly lives on in From Dusk Till Dawn.

After robbing a bank in Kansas and escaping jail, Seth Gecko (George Clooney) and his slightly psychotic and deeply unwell brother Richard (Quentin Tarantino) hold up Benny's World of Liquor where they add store clerk Pete Bottoms (John Hawkes) and Texas Ranger Earl McGraw (Michael Parks) to their ever-growing list of casualties. The two are pursued by FBI Agent Stanley Chase (John Saxon) and after leaving the liquor store in flaming ruin the two head to the Mexican border with their hostage bank teller Gloria Hill (Brenda Hillhouse) in tow. They pull in at the Dew Drop Motel in Texas where they bump into the Fuller family. Jacob (Harvey Keitel) has taken his adopted son Scott (Ernest Liu) and daughter Kate (Juliette Lewis) on a vacation. Jacob is a minister in the midst of a crisis of faith after the death of his wife. Seth and Richie commandeer Jacob's RV to smuggle them across the border at gunpoint and order to take them to their rendez-vous. The minister is to take them to the Titty Twister bar where the brothers will meet their contact Carlos (Cheech Marin) at dawn providing them shelter at El Rey. Carlos figures that a bar doubling as a stripclub/brothel will offer all the necessary entertainment.

The Titty Twister proudly exclaims to be open from “dusk till dawn” and if Chet Pussy (Cheech Marin) is to be believed they have every kind of girl for every kind of customer. The intrepid gang first meet resistance from bartender Razor Charlie (Danny Trejo) who insists that they don’t fit their strict “bikers and truckers only” policy. Jacob is able to negotiate their entry on a technicality. Before long they are introduced to the bar’s main attraction, the devilishly beautiful Satánico Pandemónium (Salma Hayek) whose dance of seduction instantly beguiles and enslaves Richie. When the bar employees reveal themselves to be a reptilian breed of vampires known as culebra the group find allies in tough bikers Sex Machine (Tom Savini) and Frost (Fred Williamson). They are able to hold their own against the first wave, but the things have a nasty habit of resurrecting their previously claimed human victims. As the vampires re-emerge and start to claw down the group must stay alive to reach the liberating rays of daylight.

George Clooney had played a guest role on the CBS hospital sitcom E/R (1984) and just finished his 6-year run as Doug Ross on the NBC medical drama ER (1994-2009). About ten years before Clooney had been in the horror spoofs Return to Horror High (1987) and Return of the Killer Tomatoes! (1988). Juliette Lewis was the prerequisite Hollywood alternative chick. Her star was rising due to her roles in Cape Fear (1991), Natural Born Killers (1994), The Basketball Diaries (1995), and Strange Days (1995). Harvey Keitel was and is a living legend and has played many iconic roles. Keitel has worked with Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, Jane Campion, and Abel Ferrara appearing in, among many others, Mean Streets (1973), Taxi Driver (1976), the comedy Mother, Jugs & Speed (1976), Reservoir Dogs (1992), Pulp Fiction (1994), Bad Lieutenant (1992), and The Piano (1993). To top things off, the all-star cast is anchored by pulp cinema pillars Fred Williamson, John Saxon and Tom Savini and Rodriguez regulars Cheech Marin and Danny Trejo. This being a Tarantino script every line Clooney (and every other main character, Fullers excepted) utters is filled with rapid-fire expletives and random profanity. And then there’s her, Salma Hayek.

Salma Hayek as Satánico Pandemónium

No coverage of From Dusk Till Dawn is complete without mentioning, obligatory or otherwise, Salma Hayek. Are we terribly dating ourselves by calling Salma a hot tamale? Hayek’s electrifying performance was a sure-shot to international superstardom, if her sizzling role as the love interest in Desperado (1995) hadn’t done so already. Only Laura Cerón from ER (1994-2009) came close to matching la Hayek. In these times before Eva Longoria, Ana Ortiz, and Selena Gomez; Hayek was Mexico’s biggest export.

What other way to describe Salma other than the best of Bella Cortez, Tina Romero, and Maribel Guardia, combined? Rodriguez obviously was keenly aware of the fact and has Hayek writhing and slithering around suggestively in nothing but a tiny burgundy bikini and feathery headdress while handling a large Albino Burmese Python Reticulus. Tarantino on the other hand uses the opportunity to indulge his well-known foot fetish. First, by ogling Lewis and getting down and dirty with Hayek. If Salma’s scorching dance routine doesn’t get your pulse racing you’re either dead, barren or both. In age-old Hollywood tradition the extras get topless but the main attraction doesn’t. Hayek has a scant few lines but delivers each and every of them with wide-eyed, lipsmacking glee. It makes you long for Ukrainian belly dancer Diana Bastet to re-enact (and expand) the Satánico Pandemónium routine with costume and all. Salma’s delectable shapes and forms turned heads a quarter century ago and continue to do so to this day. In a now legendary 2021 Red Table Talk interview the 55-year-old candidly admitted hers only gotten more sumptuous and bigger with age. As a woman of such enormously gigantic proportions, the price of beauty comes with all the expected physical ailments.

Regardless of how you might feel about Tarantino and his post-modern witticisms From Dusk Till Dawn remains a formidable genre exercise on its own merit. Whether it’s the heist/action of the first hour or the suvival/vampire horror of the last 48 minutes the shift remains as brilliantly executed, seamless in transition and unexpected as when it first premiered. For cult cinema lovers there’s a lot to see if you know where to look. Judging from Hayek’s sultry dance Rodriguez apparently has seen Black Eva (1976). The batscene was clearly inspired by Hammer’s The Kiss Of the Vampire (1963). Once the surviving vampire killers emerge they bear some semblance to those of Captain Kronos – Vampire Hunter (1974). The vampires are modeled after the Deadites from Army Of Darkness (1992). Frost’s slaying and ultimate demise echoes one of the earlier Derek enemy kills in Bad Taste (1987).

Sex Machine transforms into a grotesque behemoth rat-vampire monstrosity similar to the rat-monkey in Peter Jackson’s Braindead (1992). Hayek’s transformation into her reptile culebra form pre-dates Mallika Sherawat’s in Hisss (2010) by almost fifteen years and neither for that matter does she vocalize only in hisses and moans. Chet Pussy’s often sampled and legendary pussy monologue remains priceless as ever, as does Chango beer and Sleaze tequila. Equally funny is when during the Titty Twister massacre Tito & Tarantula continue to play music on a severed torso and various body parts. The vampires’ demise by daylight is eerily similar to that of the Gremlins in Gremlins 2: The New Batch (1990) or the shambling corpses in A Chinese Ghost Story (1987), you be the judge. Oh yeah, and where else are you going to see a dive bar/brothel built on a Aztec pyramid/temple consecrated to snake god Quetzalcóatl or Coatlicue? Nowhere, that’s where. It also helps that it’s exceptionally gory. It’s a wonder that Hollywood and the censors allowed it.

It wouldn’t be too far off to call From Dusk Till Dawn the Bad Taste (1987) or Evil Dead II (1987) of the nineties. Is it as crazy as some of Mexico’s best horror of yore? Hell, no but for a mainstream Hollywood production it’s more than a little quirky and even mildly insane. People with no cinematic literacy or knowledge still delude themselves into thinking Tarantino is some prodigious genius that reinvents cinema on the regular. Nothing could be further from the truth. There’s no denying Tarantino’s visual mastery, vast knowledge, witty writing and technical craft but every single thing he has ever done is taking the exploitation genre of his preference, and blowing it up with all the bells and whistles that come with a massive Hollywood budget. As these things tend to go From Dusk Till Dawn spawned a pair of direct-to-video follow-ups in the form of the unnecessary sequel From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money (1999), the prequel From Dusk Till Dawn 3: The Hangman's Daughter (1999) as well as the series From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series (2014-2016). That most, if not all, couldn’t hold a candle to the original was, sadly, expected but at least they built and expanded upon the mythology and characters it established. As of this writing, it hasn’t been tarnished by a modern-day remake/reimagining – hopefully it will remain that way too.