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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.

Plot: who or what is prowling and killing in the Amsterdam canals?

After the box office success of De Lift (1983) the sky was the limit for producer/director Dick Maas – or at least insofar something like that was possible in Dutch cinema. The only real competition he had regionally was Kortrijk-based producer/director/writer Johan Vandewoestijne. First Maas went on to create Flodder (1986), a crude general audience comedy that played on Dutch stereotypes and told of a family of asocial misfits accidently housed in the upper class neighborhood of Zonnedael. If nothing else it introduced Croatian-Dutch model and sometime sex bomb Tatjana Šimić, or the closest thing to a Dutch Gloria Guida and Janet Ågren, to the world. Maas returned to his horror roots with the creatively titled Amsterdamned. Once more he teamed up with Flodder (1986) producer Laurens Geels and casting director Dorna X. van Rouveroy with key crew members from De Lift (1983) reprising their roles behind the camera. Amsterdamned was to be Maas’ response to the slasher craze of the mid-to-late 1980s. By all accounts Amsterdamned arrived late to the game but thankfully is as much of a police procedural and thriller as it is a genuine horror. When Amsterdamned proved lucrative at the box office Maas briefly toyed with the idea of a sequel, provisionally dubbed Rotterdoom. However, this idea was scrapped as sequels to Flodder (1986) made more sense from an economic point of view. Thus, Amsterdamned was not the birth of a franchise but a timeless Dutch genre classic.

By 1988 the American slasher was on its last legs. In its twilight years the subgenre had to resort to some pretty preposterous ends to remain relevant. The Italian giallo had mutated into a near unrecognizable abomination by succumbing to the American conventions of the form. Amsterdamned looked to the thriller instead and had a good idea of where the police procedural was going. Instead of adhering to the tired and worn out slasher conventions of the day Maas was prescient enough to foresee the horror and thriller merging into one. To its everlasting credit Maas’ Nederhorror classic effectively pre-dated genre-defining efforts as The Silence Of the Lambs (1991), Se7en (1995), The Bone Collector (1999) and in Spain with Thesis (1996) and The Nameless (1999). Only Michael Mann’s Manhunter (1986) got there earlier but is often eclipsed by and forgotten in favor of its more popular (and enduring) cousins. By not strictly adhering to the conventions of horror Amsterdamned easily sidestepped its limitations. Amsterdamned never professes to be horror for horror’s sake but rather a chilling and atmospheric police thriller not afraid to take cues from Maas’ preferred genre. At times like a slasher, in others somewhat of a Dutch giallo but a thriller and police procedural through and through Amsterdamned has something for any genre fan.

When a prostitute (Barbara Martijn) and a salvation army soldier (Simone Ettekoven) are brutally and bloodily slain near the Groenburgwal hard-nosed workaholic (and semi-alcoholic) detective Eric Visser (Huub Stapel) is put on the case. To crack the case discreetly and efficiently Visser takes along his partner Hans Vermeer (Serge-Henri Valcke) before teaming up with river policeman John van Meegeren (Wim Zomer). The investigation quickly leads Visser and his team to the local high-end diving club where the detective strikes up conversation with Laura (Monique van de Ven) and her friend psychiatrist Martin Ruysdael (Hidde Maas). Visser’s daughter Anneke (Tatum Dagelet) claims he works too much while her love interest Willy (Edwin Bakker) believes he has psychic powers that will break the case wide open. After two environmentalists (Koos van der Knaap and Pieter Loef) and a nubile young girl (Leontine Ruiters, as Leontien Ruyters) are victimized Visser is duly expected by his chief (Lou Landré), the commissioner (Helmert Woudenberg) and, more importantly, the Amsterdam mayor (Jules Croiset) to expedite a viable suspect. The police pick up a man (Hans Dagelet) fitting the description but the detective has his doubts about his involvement. The more he puts the clues together Visser suspects Ruysdael behind the slayings. Visser becomes so consumed with the investigation that Anneke and Willy under the cloak of night embark on one of their own. Things take a turn for the personal when van Meegeren is killed and Laura is assaulted during a clandestine search of the psychiatrist’s home. Who’s prowling the canals and what’s their motivation?

Never change a winning formula. Amsterdamned is famous for its ensemble cast of Nederhorror royalty. First and foremost, there are Huub Stapel and Serge-Henri Valcke from De Lift (1983). Monique van de Ven would go on to do the atmospheric occult thriller De Johnsons (1993) and Jules Croiset would figure into the disasterpiece Intensive Care (1991) that Dorna X. van Rouveroy directed some scant three years later. Van de Ven doesn’t get to do as much as in her other movies but she fills the role as love interest admirably. Providing some of the skin and much of the sex appeal is Leontien Ruiters. Amsterdamned elevated her profile so such degree that she became the co-hostess of the popular gameshow Wheel of Fortune (1989-1997). From there she parlayed her newfound fame into small, mostly decorative roles in the Flodder (1993-1998) syndicated series. While doing that she pulled double-duty as hostess and weather girl for Dutch TV station Veronica from 1995 to 1996. In more recent years Leontien could be seen in the series Soccer Wives (2007-2009). Ruiters was married to popular singer Marco Borsato (from 1998 to 2020) with whom she has three children. Borsato recently found himself in hot water when allegations of sexual misconduct arose (with possible legal consequences) during his tenure as a coach on The Voice Kids from 2012 to 2020. Ruiters immediately distanced herself and the marriage was dissolved. As an action-packed thriller Amsterdamned delivers exactly what you’d want and the high risk speedboat chase is rightly revered. Not only was such a thing seldom undertaken in Dutch cinema, it almost ended up killing Huub Stapel.

It wouldn’t be a Dick Maas feature if the man didn’t get to extensively pay homage to whatever popular movie of the day caught his attention. In that capacity you can see Maas do his own take on the famous bathtub scene from A Nightmare On Elm Street (1984), there’s a “gearing up” vignette not unlike Commando (1985) and the synth score at various moments echoes Brad Fiedel’s work on The Terminator (1984). While Amsterdamned spends inordinate amount of time pinning red herrings on and setting up Martin Ruysdael as the villain, it’s in fact a character nobody mentioned anywhere before and introduced literally in the last ten minutes to be killed just as quickly. As always there’s Maas usual throughline of environmentalism, government corruption and corporate conspiracy. While there’s no real Šimić equivalent to speak of Leontien Ruiters is the prerequisite Dutch blonde bombshell that Maas loves. Huub Stapel is his usual rugged self whereas Monique van de Ven is wasted in a mostly decorative role. Hidde Maas makes an excellent nominal villain but the entire bit feels a bit empty once the true identity of the culprit is revealed. Had this been the hook upon which Amsterdamned as a franchise would’ve hinged it would’ve been excusable. As a stand-alone feature it comes off as somewhat lazy (or convenient) writing at best.

In more recent years Dick Maas has fallen on hard times. In the 2010s there were but a scant three Maas horror features with Sint (2010), Quiz (2012) and Prey (2016). As of that year Maas has found himself in a political – and societal climate that’s increasingly hostile towards independent filmmakers like him strangling them with overregulation and restrictions, logistical and otherwise, adverse to their craft. As of this writing the most recent Maas-centric feature was the Jeffrey De Vore documentary The Dick Maas Method (2020). Whatever the case, the legacy of Dick Maas as the Lowlands primary purveyor of mass audience swill and Nederhorror pioneer remains unquestionable and uncontested. Maas kicked open all the doors and paved the way for filmmakers in the Netherlands and Belgium to think big, to aim for the international market. If anything else, that’s hardly the worst thing to be remembered for. Fortune favors the bold, and Maas was bold enough to light a fire under Dutch genre cinema when no one else would. Pioneers are often misunderstood for their accomplishments and the case of Dick Maas is no different. Here’s hoping there’s more in the tank for monuments like Dick Maas and his ilk.