
filmmakers inspire
a stronger visceral reaction among horror and exploitation fans than Al Adamson, a scrappy independent filmmaker who built up a repertory of familiar actors as he bounced around from cheapie monster movies to biker movies to indescribable oddities that defy classification. Often working with Independent International's Sam Sherman, Adamson became a familiar name on the drive-in circuit-- albeit often as a warning of sorts for many along with other money-deprived DIY maestros like Andy Milligan, Ray Dennis Steckler, and Ted V. Mikels. By the time he retired from filmmaking in the mid-'80s, he'd left behind a colorful legacy with titles like Dracula vs. Frankenstein, Satan's Sadists, Horror of the Blood Monsters, Nurse Sherri, Carnival Magic, Blazing Stewardesses, Blood of Dracula's Castle, and Black Samurai. Along the way he offered regular employment for actors like his wife Regina Carroll, Lon Chaney Jr., Russ Tamblyn, and Gary Kent, with fleeting but indelible opportunities also given to dozens of Hollywood hopefuls. However, his story didn't end there; in 1995, Adamson vanished from his home in Indio, California, with authorities soon discovering that he'd been murdered at his house by a contractor and buried under a freshly built pool. The grisly homicide made the news at the time and served as a bizarre end to a life and career that was truly stranger than fiction. Now all of his available credited work and a standout new documentary have all been compiled together by Severin Films in the 32-film Blu-ray set, Al Adamson: The Masterpiece Collection, which was also offered in the quickly depleted Bundle of Ghastly Horror and Bundle a Go Go sets.
In 2019, Severin's David Gregory and friends embarked on a documentary about Adamson from the genesis of his filmmaking career through his untimely end; the result, Blood and Flesh:
The Reel Life and Ghastly Death of Al Adamson, is a compelling and frequently jaw-dropping that ranks up there with the best feature-length studies of offbeat cinema auteurs like Herschell Gordon Lewis: The Godfather of Gore, King Cohen, and Gregory's earlier Lost Soul: The Doomed Journey of Richard Stanley's Island of Dr. Moreau.
even wilder turn in the third act as we get into his other pursuits including an extended, dizzying detour into UFO conspiracy theories and his attempt to bring it to the public, as well as his
other commercial enterprises. Of course, there's also an extended, in-depth look at the circumstances behind his death with many of the key players involved provided the definitive account of how he came to such a tragic and undeserved end. The whole thing is studded with plenty of archival Adamson footage (mostly from his last interview) along with new chats with a huge number of participants including Sam Sherman, Russ Tamblyn, Vilmos Zsigmond, Zandor Vorkov, John "Bud" Cardos (who seemed to wear at least a dozen hats on Adamson productions), Fred Olen Ray, Marilyn Joi, Greydon Clark, Gary Kent, Leslie McRay, Chris Poggiali, and more.
in DTS-HD English 5.1 and 2.0 (both of which sound solid given that most of the
channel separation involves the lively music score) with optional subtitles in English, Spanish, French, and Portuguese. A reel of outtakes (20m10s) is an amalgam of bonus interview footage (mostly with Sherman but also featuring Clark, Kent, and a funny storage unit visit with Tamblyn), followed by a promo reel for the incomplete Beyond This Earth alien research project (3m9s), a trailer, and a poster gallery.
Geoffrey Land. 
Disc two i
s as good a representation as any of the confusion that plagues Adamson's career with multiple versions and reworked footage muddying the waters of so many of his directorial credits. Three films are included here starting with Adamson's first proper directing credit, 1964's Psycho a Go-Go. Anyone used to his rougher later efforts might be shocked here to find a proficient little slice of groovy '60s fun shot in scope and featuring a relatively solid narrative grasp. The whole thing starts off with a bang thanks to a catchy number performed by one of talent agent Al's clients at the time, Tacey Robbins, who serves as a kind of musical Greek chorus here. The plot is a basic caper yarn probably inspired by The Desperate Hours about some jewelry store thieves whose job goes very wrong with their loot ended up on the back of a pickup truck. They manage to find the owner and make life a living hell for the family in possession of the gems (now stashed inside a doll), which leads to a violent showdown in the snow.
Ghastly Horror dispenses with most of the nightclub footage, retains the scenes with Carradine, and grafts on new
scenes with Tommy Kirk, Regina Carrol, and Kent Taylor to add a subplot about a police investigation (which promptly disappears two thirds of the way through) and another crazed killer, this time played by future smut actor Richard Smedley (The Suckers). The footage for all three versions was shot in scope, but the gap in years means you can see some very evident shifts in film stock and shooting style with the most recent material looking more improvised and claustrophobic. (Also, former Disney star Kirk looks really sickly here, which doesn't help things.)
worth
noting that this disc is Region A, which also applies to everything except discs one, twelve, and fourteen. Extras include the trailers for all three versions, an alternate Synthetic Brain opening pulled from a video source, and an archival audio commentary by Sam Sherman ported over from the Troma Ghastly release.
given that it was actually shot in '66 (and spiced up with more violent
footage for some later screenings). The story here is also fairly standard material about a revenge-seeking gun for hire, Ben Thompson (co-screenwriter Dix), who's scouring the West for the Native American who killed his wife. Along the way he encounters a variety of other colorful characters, many slathered in brownface to very odd effect, and it's all shot very skillfully by a young Vilmos Zsigmond, who also lensed the original version of Psycho a Go-Go.
was inevitable that Adamson would
cross paths with the drive-in factory Crown International at some point, and that came to pass with one of his most widely circulated films, Blood of Dracula's Castle, which turns up on disc four in the box. This cheapie features a memorable title and the can't-miss proposition of horror vet John Carradine in one of his many vampire movie roles, but as usual Adamson doesn't do it the way you'd expect. Carradine plays George, the butler for the stuck-up Count Dracula (Horrors of Spider Island's D'Arcy) and his wife (Hand of Death's Raymond), who like to keep random kidnapped women chained up in their California castle dungeon for their blood supply. A jailbird named Johnny (Dix) clobbers the prison guard who helped him escape (a cameo by production manager Cardos) and eventually crashes the castle along with unfortunate photographer Glen (O'Shane) and his girlfriend Liz (The Mad Room's Bishop), who think they've inherited the castle but have a big surprise waiting for them. Then there's the Count's drooling, misshapen manservant Mango (Blue Sunshine's Young), who does the aforementioned kidnapping and bloodletting when he isn't stumbling around scaring people in the dark.
Wax, also with Cardos). In its theatrical form the film ran 84 minutes, but when it needed to be lengthened for TV, an additional five minutes
were added expanding upon Dix's odd relationship with the full moon. In this expanded cut, Dix actually turns into a werewolf and rampages through the sagebrush at random intervals through the first half of the film, all accompanied by some pretty wild psychedelic rock guitar music.
a fun piece that goes well with his commentary tracks elsewhere and a welcome addition to one of Adamson's strangest but most widely-seen monster outings
as few have seen it before. The Blu-ray is taken from the best surviving material, 16mm CRI of the TV version which also serves as the base for the theatrical cut with exclusive portions of the latter sourced from a 35mm print. The theatrical version is framed at 1.85:1 and the TV version (under the title Dracula's Castle) is open matte at 1.33:1, which often looks far more visually comfortable. Extras include a partial audio commentary by Brian Albright, a brief audio interview with D'Arcy by David Del Valle (2m42s), and the theatrical trailer.
recruited as a pair of ground controllers. Adamson and Cardos also turn up briefly in a newer prologue showing vampire assaults happening all over L.A., which is also the most enjoyable part of the whole enterprise.
The psychedelic color tinting is certainly a novel approach and probably worked like a charm at drive-ins where distracted patrons had some vibrant background activity unfolding for a while, but seen without context it's an absolutely brain-draining experience. The Severin transfer is leagues better than the old full frame Image DVD with a fresh scan from the original camera negative that absolutely blazes with candy colors all over the place. It may not make much sense, but your eyes will be happy. Sherman's partial audio commentary is ported over here from the DVD and it's actually one of his best with a very precise record of how the film came about, why its title was changed to Vampire Men of the Lost Planet for TV airings, and how and why all the various extra bits were shot to cobble together something that could earn back a few dollars. Also included are later alternate title sequences (Space Mission to the Lost Planet and Vampire Men of the Lost Planet), three astounding theatrical trailers (two narrated by
Brother Theodore) and a bonus one for Tagani, TV spots, and a radio spot. Note that the earlier U.S. DVD also featured a reel of discarded B&W Tagani footage from Sherman's archives, so if you're a real maniac for this film, make sure you hang on to it.
Now on to disc five, which houses one of the loopiest examples of Adamson refashioning one of his own films into a completely different drive-in subgenre. The Fakers, cited on the menu and the replaced title card under the U.K. title Smashing the Crime Syndicate, is a belated 1968 attempt to ride the groovy spy wave inaugurated by James Bond and continued by the likes of the Matt Helm, Jerry Cotton, Derek Flint, and the OSS 117 series. Shot in 1967, it proved to be impossible to market at the time as the start of a series about secret agent Mark Adams (John Gabriel) and his covert government agency headed by none other than Oscar winner Broderick Crawford. Here our undercover hot shot is first seen in the hospital after nearly dying in a catastrophic car crash, and through voiceover he fills us in how he infiltrated a criminal organization involved in a counterfeiting ring financing a new incarnation of the Nazi party run by the fascist Count Otto (Kent Taylor).
and selling the film proved to be insurmountable due to the suicide of producer Rex Carlton, which left this sitting on the shelf until 1972. In the interim,
Adamson's association with Sam Sherman and the start of Independent International meant that this one could find a new lease on life as a biker movie in the wake of II's very successful Satan's Sadists (more on that in a moment). Thus new scenes were shot (including Volonte again) to add a very random subplot about Nazi bikers in California serving as operatives for the crime ring, shot in a grubby, herky jerky style very much at odds with the main feature. The end product, Hell's Bloody Devils, is an outrageous collage that must have left drive-in audiences with a major case of whiplash comparable only to the later wave of legit dramas and thrillers spiced up with random hardcore sex inserts in the later '70s. For this release you get a staggeringly good transfer of The Fakers from the original camera negative with all of its ultra saturated late '60s colors intact complete with piercing blue skies and ultra rich wood paneling on all the walls. Hell's Bloody Devils is a more uneven affair by necessity, using the same transfer for the bits from the original film and resorting to a damaged, faded print for the new biker scenes -- which somehow feels appropriate here. Extras include the original The Fakers title sequence from the only existing source (a 1.33: 16mm print), Sherman's partial audio commentary from the 2006 Media Blasters DVD of Hell's Bloody Devils (under its Guilty Pleasures brand), a trailer and TV spot, and an interview with Gabriel by Sherman (20m3s), also from the DVD.
Perhaps
the most famous Adamson film at all (and certainly the one with the longest distribution life on the large and small screens) can be found on disc six: Dracula vs. Frankenstein, a colorful monster mash that also evolved from another, very different project (a biker film called The Blood Seekers) with piecemeal subplots added along the way to turn it into a full-on horror movie. Almost a greatest hits package designed for the Famous Monsters crowd, the film affords parts for classic film legends J. Carrol Naish and Lon Chaney Jr. along with such familiar faces as Regina Carrol, Russ Tamblyn (briefly), Gary Graver, Angelo Rossitto, and Greydon Clark. The somewhat discombobulating plot hinges on the attempts of Vegas showgirl Judith (Carrol) whose sister has become one of the victims of Dr. Duryea (Naish), a member of the Frankenstein family who's carrying on its infamous work in a lab behind a carnival in Venice, California. He finds an unlikely professional alliance with Dracula (Zandor Vorkov, alias Sherman's financial advisor at the time, Roger Engel), who can help bring the Frankenstein monster to life in exchange for access to the doctor's findings to cure his own aversion to daylight. Axe murders, clueless cops, bikers, and Forrest J. Ackerman also turn up.
horror comic. The end result plays like an eight-year-old's fever dream skipping from one idea to the next with reckless abandon, climaxing in a monster versus monster showdown that throws anything resembling
continuity to the wind. As with numerous other films from the same post-Plan 9 from Outer Space era, you can debate whether it's depressing or admirable for a director to give horror icons of yesteryear a cinematic showcase in their twilight years; Chaney in particular was having vast health and personal issues and would be gone by 1973 with this marking his final appearance on film.
disc is Adamson's Brain of Blood, with a transfer and extras identical to the presentation in Severin's earlier Hemisphere Horrors box (including a Sherman commentary, "Memories of Blood"
featurette, the trailer, and a TV spot).
actually unnerving and very evocative
here, and the story moves along at a fast, ruthless pace backed by a heavy psychedelic percussive score. Also released as a Troma DVD in 2006 in a dreary transfer from an old tape master, this one has gotten a nice revisit here with a fresh open matte scan of a 35mm interpositive; it's a big leap from what we've had before and looks nice and crisp throughout. Ported over from the DVD is a partial Sherman commentary plus a reel of silent outtakes (8m57s) and a trailer, TV spots, and radio spot. The extensive and enjoyable radio interview with Regina Carroll remains exclusive to the Troma release, so collectors take note.
Sadists but has a groove of its own (including copious pot smoking and wide angle lenses) that's quite appealing if you're in the right mood (preferably late at night). This one also hit DVD from Troma (in one iteration as a double feature with Sadists) with a partial Sherman commentary that's carried over for the Blu-ray, which also sports the
trailer, a TV spot, and a radio spot. The new transfer from the original camera negative (likely untouched since the '70s) is virtually immaculate and looks fantastic throughout.
at every turn. Along the way they also cross paths with the underground porn crowd including sleaze regular Richard Smedly as the director of an afternoon quickie called Locked Loins.
The second film takes the unexpected route of essentially spoofing the material and adding some old school Hollywood star power with, uh, Yvonne De Carlo as a brothel owner and the Ritz Brothers for no discernible reason (stepping in for the original casting choice, the Three Stooges). This time our ladies on leave (Joi again with Carrol and Connie Hoffman) end up at a ranch beset by bandits, with much comic confusion ensuing. Everyone seems to be having a good time with this one, and not surprisingly, Adamson himself ranked it as one of his favorites, likely given that he and Sherman got to cram in about thirty different ideas into one production.
additional material from the neg replaced here via an answer print. Both represent the most complete versions released to date, with Blazing earning extra points for the
ridiculous upside-down sex scene featuring semi-hardcore actor Sheldon Lee. Both transfers look excellent on the Blu-ray and easily outclass the DVD, while extras include Sherman's commentaries for both films from the DVDs (the Blazing one is the more fascinating as it charts the film's ties to his German imports at the time), a fascinating "Fly Girls" featurette (13m43s) by Kier-La Janisse about stewardessploitation and the real-life cultural shifts behind it from Frank Sinatra to Jimmy Carter, TV and radio spots, trailers, a combo trailer, and an alternate Blazing title sequence as The Great Truck Robbery. You also get a Females for Hire combo TV spot and the extra scenes directed by Adamson for Independent International's German acquisition, Bedroom Stewardesses (18m22s), which is a whole lot less salacious than you'd expect but fascinating as a kind of fractured short film on its own.
the legendary star of the porno chic classic Devil in Miss Jones.
(There's also a small role for The Private Afternoons of Pamela Mann's Barbara Bourbon, who was mainly the makeup girl on the set, and the "Door to Paradise" library track theme from that film also turns up as the main title music here, weirdly enough). Here Spelvin plays Sandra, a former madam who gets sprung from jail via a conveniently staged cat fight to become a paid assassin(!) thanks to her cunning mind and solid sense of discretion. After setting up a job against a politicians, she ends up pursuing Susie (Susie Ewing, a.k.a. Susan McIver) across various dusty locales to silence her role in the murder for hire plot. Violent and pretty taut by Adamson standards, this one also has some Russ Meyer echoes at times (especially a visit to a ranch run by a creepy old rancher and his mentally addled son) and even a bit of a spaghetti western vibe at times. The new transfer from the negative here is a bit of an eye opener compared to the grungy old VHS and DVD editions, again looking quite fresh and striking, though a significant chunk in the middle was missing and had to be replaced via a more faded print (which still looks better than what we had before).
Distributing instead of Independent International. The still busy Sondra Currie (Policewomen, Mama's Dirty Girls) stars as Jessica, a Mormon on
her way to Utah with her ill-fated husband who gets killed off in an ambush. Shot and left for dead as well following a vicious sexual assault, Jessica vows revenge and teams up with a traveling sheriff (Land again) and his three female convicts in transit (including Jennifer Bishop and Regina Carrol, the latter doing her first and only, body double-assisted sex scene). Much violence and backstabbing soon follows. The obligatory Hollywood old timer this time is onetime oater star Rod Cameron, and the tone here feels like an updating of Five Bloody Graves with a stronger emphasis on exploitation than before even if the film itself doesn't feel all that strong (after the initial attack, anyway). Currie is solid as always and manages to wield a mean rifle, and Adamson makes the most out of his arid desert locales as usual. This was actually one of the first Adamson films out of the gate in HD thanks to a streaming option offered from Multicom; that transfer from what are presumably the best print elements still around looks fine if a bit faded and fares better here than the online option thanks to the more generous bit rate.
A third feature is also on here, and it's a real puzzler: Nurses for Sale, yet another German import from 1971 directed by Rolf Olsen that was pulled in
by Independent International to ride the success of Girls for Sale (and its II forerunner, the German hit Women for Sale, a.k.a. The Young Tigers of Hong Kong). Future James Bond villain Curd Jurgens headlines here as a captain who has to step in time to time to help some sexy nurses heading to the jungle who get into trouble with local mercenaries. Unfortunately the original film has been hacked down to less than an hour, with ten minutes of new Adamson footage to flesh out the nurses' characters (mostly their sex lives) added to make it easier to sell to American viewers. The result is truly bewildering and blatantly suffers from the heavy cutting, resulting in a film that feels more like a deranged lengthy trailer than a real movie. The transfer here comes from a theatrical print and, as they say, looks very grindhouse. Consider this more of a glorified bonus feature than a real movie. Girls for Rent gets the lion's share of the extras including Sherman's audio commentary from the DVD release, an alternate title sequence as I Spit on Your Corpse!, a TV spot, a trailer, and a spot; also included are the Nurses for Sale and Jessi's Girls theatrical trailers.
c ourse, as inevitable as it was that Adamson would dip his toes into the biker and stewardess fads, he would also have to take a shot at one of the biggest box office juggernauts of
the mid-'70s: blaxploitation. His contributions in this set come a bit out of chronological sequence and are placed more for ideal viewing enjoyment, staring off with disc ten's Black Heat (also released under other titles like The Murder Gang, Girls' Hotel, and Syndicate Vice). The gist here involves black cop Kicks (NFL player Timothy Brown) and his white partner, Tony (Land), who know the streets of L.A. and all the seedy characters populating it. The biggest thorn in their side is Ziggy (Tamblyn in his last Adamson outing), a weapons and drug operator who strikes a little too close to home. Unfazed by this lawless disrespect for human life, Kicks uses his girlfriend (Tanya Boyd) to get the dirt on Ziggy at a nightclub (which employs Regina Carrol as a showgirl, of course). Mayhem ensues on the way to a climax that smacks more than a little bit of Foxy Brown. The treatment of women here is definitely not in keeping with today's climate, but Adamson really seems to be in his element here with a nutty crime story that particularly lets Tamblyn off the leash with a wild-eyed performance (and hairdo) that has to be seen to be believed. Transferred from the original camera negative, this is one of the strongest looking titles in the set with a shocking amount of detail and depth on display, especially if you've seen this in any past editions. It's a real beauty. A partial Sherman commentary is ported over from the earlier Shock-o-Rama DVD (mainly focusing on the odd genesis of the film and the reason for its multiple ad campaigns depending on the territory), an aspect reflected in the two trailers, the alternate Murder Gang opener, and most valuable by far, the surviving extra opening shot for the Girls' Hotel version (6m41s) with Land and Carrol on hand to play up the prostitution angle (though not very explicitly). 
On the same disc is a more unorthodox blaxploitation title, The Dynamite Brothers, which collides with that other big city box office draw, martial arts. Brown returns here (though this was shot two years earlier) as Stud Brown, who gets framed for a crime he didn't commit and ends up handcuffed to Larry (Alan Tang), who's recently come to California looking for his missing brother (though not for the reasons you might assume). Naturally Larry is highly skilled in kung fu and makes for the perfect opponent for the bad guys run by that dirty cop, Burke (Aldo Ray), and the mastermind behind it all, Wei Chin (James Hong!). Though clunkyly shot, this one absolutely delivers on the action front due to the wise decision to bring in a number of Hong King cinema stunt men who ramp up the excitement level considerably. There's nothing here plot-wise that will take you even remotely by surprise, but as a showcase for Tang and company, it's a pretty solid night of kung fu cinema viewing. Fortunately the camera negative for this one survived intact as well and makes for a gorgeous presentation here; the opening titles alone are filled with lustrous primary colors that set the tone for what amounts to a live action comic book. TV spots are included under the original title and a reissue as Stud Brown.
If
you thought Adamson was past the whole patchwork approach to other people's movies by that point, well, disc eleven proves otherwise with two peculiar examples proving he hadn't lost his touch-- though this time they both have a blaxploitation angle of one kind or another. The first chronological Adamson blaxploitation film, 1974s Mean Mother, started life as a 1971 Euro thriller by none other than León Klimovsky called Run for Your Life featuring Thunderball star Luciana Paluzzi and Dennis Safren. A whole new protagonist is added here, Vietnam vet Beauregard Jones (Dobie Gray), with Safren brought back for continuity and Marilyn Joi along for the ride as well. The film is also tricked out with a funky soundtrack and stylish opening credits to complete the dubious illusion of a single feature about two men who served together and have now become embroiled in the crime world including a smuggling ring and counterfeiters in Rome. (The fact that Safren doesn't look at all the same due to the intervening years is never really addressed.) Meanwhile Beauregard beats up lots of people and fires a gun a lot. It's an adorable mess of a film that certainly isn't boring, though audiences at the time were probably doubting their sanity by the half-hour mark. Again this one comes to Blu-ray straight from the original negative and looks excellent, with extras including Sherman's partial commentary from the earlier DVD (a useful thumbnail sketch of how the string of black action films started and how they came about putting this puzzle of a film together), a trailer, and "The Joy of Marilyn Joi" (17m), a great new interview with the always charming and enthusiastic actress about her days with Adamson, her healthy attitude about nudity, her club days, and the fun she had getting to play a wide
range of characters and act with legends like Jim Kelly.
That disc's co-feature is 1976's Uncle Tom's Cabin, a reworking of a much longer and more prestigious German production from 1964 starring Herbert Lom and Dr. No's John Kitzmiller as the title character. The story is pretty much lifted verbatim from its famous source material, the trailblazing novel by Harriet Beecher Stowe, with Lom cast as one of the era's most legendary villains, the wicked slaver Simon Legree, who fends off a slave revolt and leads a pursuit against the escaped men and women who slipped through his fingers. This version is a far cry from what audiences originally saw in Europe, a respectable epic running nearly three hours; when that proved out of fashion with what American audiences would see at the time, it was eventually shorn of over an hour by Kroger Babb and issued to a very muted response. Adamson and Sherman decided to augment it with some juicy scenes of sex and violence more in line with something like Mandingo (albeit not that extreme), even bringing back Marilyn Joi for the new footage. The end result is certainly something to behold, a Frankenstein of a film that finds Adamson's aesthetic rubbing shoulders with a high-toned European treatise on American racism. There's still a lot to enjoy here, mainly what's left of Lom's performance in his usual glorious villain mode warming up for what he would unleash soon after in Mark of the Devil. The transfer of this one comes from multiple faded surviving 35mm prints (all pre- 
apex of Adamson's blaxploitation period comes with disc twelve, a pair of films starring Jim Kelly. A trained martial artist with an athletic physique and graceful sense of movement, Kelly shot to stardom opposite Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon in 1973 and had parlayed that into such vehicles as Black Belt Jones, Three the Hard Way, and Take a Hard Ride. He ended up teaming with Adamson first for 1977's Black Samurai, which is a great title even if the film itself features kung fu instead of any discernible samurai action. Here he plays Robert Sand, a skilled agent for the secret organization D.R.A.G.O.N. (huh, wonder where they got that name?), who's pressed into service when his girlfriend, ambassador's daughter Toki (Essie Lin Chia), falls into the clutches of a criminal organization trying to extort access to a powerful weapon. Sand ends up using his fists and even a jet pack as he hops across the globe battling an army of bad guys in one fist-fighting showdown after another. Marilyn Joi comes along as his fellow crime fighter, and there's even some voodoo thrown into the mix in a cockeyed nod to Live and Let Die. For some reason this was cut down to a PG rating (shorn of all nudity and profanity) for a reissue, a source that's been used for the cheapie DVD editions floating around out there. Luckily this transfer from the best surviving material (a CRI) not only looks great but is also the complete uncensored version at last; it's a real joy
to behold and makes the film even more fun to watch (preferably after a beer or two to break down your brain's defenses). 
On we go to disc thirteen, a triple feature of completely unconnected films that provides a snapshot of where Adamson
was around the turn of the decade. Made during the first wave of teen sex comedies (The Cheerleaders, The Pom Pom Girls, etc.) before it exploded to a whole new level in the '80s, Sunset Cove is a credible if strangely laugh-deprived addition to the subgenre with plenty of nudity, hijinks, and... real estate protesting. The title stretch of land is a favorite hangout for a bunch of free-spirited, horny California teenagers whose ongoing rift between two camps must be resolved so they can fight a common enemy: a plan to turn their turf into condos. Lots of skinny dipping, protesting, pool parties, and other nonsense soon follow, even including a naked getaway on motorcycle at one point. It's all harmless, time-killing fluff with a bit of screen time for John Carradine as a former judge and legal ally for the kids (all of whom look like they're way past college age), shot with a look that uncannily mimics the Crown International aesthetic despite the fact that this was one of the inaugural films from the short-lived Cal-Am Productions (who also gave us The Toolbox Murders). Rumors abounded that film elements for this one had ceased to exist sometime back in the '80s after this hit European VHS, making it something of a lost film (with the trailer far easier to see). Fortunately the original camera negative was dug up, and again it makes for a really sparkling transfer with those beachscapes and bright summer clothing looking superb throughout. Think of those pristine Crown transfers off the negs and you'll have an idea of what to expect. The trailer and a TV spot are also included, but the big extra is "Sunset Toolbox" (11m31s), an interview with producer Tony Didio about the Cal-Am era, his involvement with Adamson on multiple projects, and the creation of the horror hit that remains the company's biggest legacy.
the title of craziest Al Adamson film might seem like a challenge, but one surefire contender (and likely winner) has to be 1977's Cinderella 2000. Inspired in equal parts by
the X-rated version of Alice in Wonderland and the kitschy future shock of Radley Metzger's Camille 2000, this is a sci-fi musical softcore version of the enduring fairy tale set in a society where sex can only be performed by governmental permission -- enforced by robots who can shrink any offenders down to Bert I. Gordon-style doll size. Tormented by her domineering stepmother (none other than Renee Harmon) and her two stepsisters, Cindy (Through the Looking Glass' Catherine Burgess, billed as Catharine Erhardt) ends up getting a musical forest consultation for her Fairy Godfather (Jay B. Larson) fresh off of a UFO. Meanwhile government official Tom Prince (frequent Star Trek actor Vaughn Armstrong) has his wandering eye captured by Cindy at a masquerade ball only to lose her before... well, you know the rest, except it doesn't involve finding the right slipper. Absolutely bonkers and truly compelling in a "what planet did this come from?" way, this one throws in everything but the kitchen sink including some peppy songs and an avalanche of nudity (even moreso in the stronger European version, which features a surprising look at Armstrong at full mast and a lengthy fantasy sequence based on Snow White with Angelo Rossitto). Adamson really uses every inch of the wide scope framing, an aspect completely lost on the massacred DVD and VHS editions that rendered the whole thing unwatchable. (At least the DVD included the full-strength Euro cut and the watered-down U.S. one.) Seeing it in all its glory on Blu-ray is a wondrous thing if you're in the right mindset; apart from the first reel taken from multiple good quality prints, it's sourced from the original negative and easily tramples on any of its home video predecessors. It's also the full-strength international cut, too,
so prepare for a truly wild ride. Carried over from the earlier DVD is another partial Sherman commentary about the creation of the film (including the casting and the multiple versions as
well as its release history), a radio spot, and a theatrical trailer. Rounding out the disc is Nurse Sherri, which has been released separately on Blu-ray by Vinegar Syndrome. However, the big news here is that it's a new film-sourced scan of the 84-minute sexy cut of the film, which was previously included only on a bonus DVD in that prior set; it's a great gesture and definitely not to be overlooked, with quality comparable to the Blu-ray of the standard theatrical cut. Also included are a trailer, a TV spot, a radio spot, and in another nice gesture, the isolated Adamson-directed scenes from Doctor Dracula, which is available on Blu-ray from Vinegar Syndrome along with the film it was chiseled from, Lucifer's Women.