SUGAR HILL (1974)
In 1974, AIP released a Blaxploitation horror film that
cashed in on the voodoo horror theme that made the Bond film LET AND LET DIE
such fun (itself capitalising on Blaxploitation’s popularity). This
synchronicity of influences benefitted SUGAR HILL as it’s well-made and great
fun, directed by Paul Maslansky, later the producer of the POLICE ACADEMY
series.
The plot is simple enough and wastes no time in setting up a
premise that invites you to sit back and vicariously enjoy the pay-off. Tim
Kelly’s script is functional but contains some humdinger attitudinal trailer
lines that this kind of film demands.
Diana ‘Sugar’ Hill (lusciously vampish genre star Marki Bey)
has a club-owning boyfriend who is being leaned on to sell his place to thugs
employed by gang boss Morgan (Robert Quarry, a star of horror films of the
period such as THE ABOMINABLE DR PHIBES). Inevitably since he won’t sell, his
integrity gets him beaten to death outside the club. Sugar vows unholy revenge.
Her ex-boyfriend, torch-carrying Lt Valentine, the debonair Richard Lawson
(SCREAM BLACULA SCREAM) wants to help but Sugar is impatient: “ If I knew who they were, I would fix it so
I could see them die – slowly”.
This might just give her away as more than the routine prime
suspect later on, but Sugar cares not - this is one bitter-sweet widow. She
goes to ask for the supernatural help of a Voodoo priestess, the white-haired
Mama Maitresse (Zara Cully), who prefaces the ritual by warning Sugar of the
consequences of invoking the greatest of her Voodoo gods: Baron Samedi. Sugar
understands that whatever bargain needed will be worth it. Also, like TV
evangelists, he is seemingly not immune to earthly materialism: “He is a greedy god. Have you any money?”
Samedi is summoned – and what a character he is. LIVE AND
LET DIE fans will be familiar with this spectral imp’s macabre elegance and
here Don Pedro Colley is a wonderful flamboyant version, with infectious
wide-eyed madcap glee in his top-hat and tails. He brings forth a strikingly
effective army of zombies, silver-eyed and cobwebbed - more old Universal than
Lucio Fulci, but highly memorable all the same.
Immediately, Sugar and Samedi go to work and the real fun
begins. As we witness each of the gang members being dispatched in increasingly
spooky ways, Bey is on hand each time to savour their demises in a stunning
white one-piece suit with bouffant afro. Samedi disguises himself as a range of
characters, such as a dodgy taxi driver, to facilitate the hoods’ entrapment,
almost as a host. Morgan’s dock-land henchman, ‘Tank’ Watson, who demands
kickbacks from his day workers in return for a shift, is the first to be killed
by the zombies in a warehouse, Bey gloating: “I’m not accusing you. Honk. I’m passing sentence!” Since Sugar
didn’t see the original murder of her boyfriend, it’s never explained how she
knows the gangsters identities, but no matter. The pace is quick enough for us
to let logic gaps slide.
Over the course of the film, subsequent goons are bumped off
using ravenous pigs, a possessed chicken’s foot, Voodoo dolls and even a
particularly creepy massage with the most ‘unhappy’ of endings; “I don’t like it” says the soon-to-be
victim as undead fingers trail up and down his back – all inventive and hugely
entertaining.
Morgan has a caustic bitch of a girlfriend, Celeste, whose
vicious racism earns us a ringside seat to a bit of girl-on-girl fighting
between her and Sugar. Meanwhile, Valentine enquires about Voodoo mythology from
an English professor of the occult.
As Sugar closes in to offer more than a spoonful of rough
justice to Morgan, she goads him to meet her at the club. It is in her name now
but she will not sell it after all. Morgan is not happy at this - “Your ass!!” he screams, highlighting
just one of her many attributes. He can’t resist the trap laid out for him in
his thwarted anger, one that includes the nice touch of a tableful of his now-zombified
employees grinning at him. If you’re curious as to how he gets offed, well what
is it that ain’t exactly mud and ain’t exactly water?
Samedi reminds Sugar that he is now owed a suitable fee for
his living-dead services. As luck would have it, Celeste had accompanied Morgan
to the venue. The Baron would have preferred the shapely Sugar, yet is content
to scoop up the shrieking mobster moll and take her with him to Hell…
SUGAR HILL is a great example of what happens when
Blaxploitation horror elements are put together with humour, a decent budget
and talent. In fact, it’s such a promising piece that I’d even commit what
would normally be sacrilege for me and suggest its’ ripeness for remake
possibilities. Rather than the current vogue for re-doing what are perfectly
realised horror movies already, I’d be intrigued to see what would result if
someone took this and even amped up the pure horror content without the laughs.
Regardless, SUGAR HILL is stylish fun and is rounded off by making great use of the
Motown tune ‘Supernatural Voodoo woman’ by the Originals.
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