Do you remember your first real kiss? The awkward, embarrassing liplock, followed by a joy of discovery, and then an instant yearning. It's a pleasant feeling that fades into nothingness as the years (and mind) wear on. Kind of like the films of Jack Weis.
The next time someone tells you that there are no ambiguous perplexities left in this modern world of cinema, don't you believe 'em. In 1976, legendary director/huckster Donn Davison made a deal with small time New Orleans film distributor Jack Weis. Weis had released a voodoo-tinged, PG rated exploitation film to stunning heights of failure. Donn D., forever on the prowl for a good outlet for his talents, teamed up with Weis, intending to score a hit. The two cut up the film's footage, rehired an actor or two, and added new scenes. Crypt Of Dark Secrets was the result. Utter flop. Back to the bayou. Two years later, Jack Weis was once again behind the French Quarter cameras. Mardi Gras Massacre, a bonafide scum classic (and UK Video Nasty) was born. He would never direct again.
Prostitute: "You aren't weird are you?"
The Killer: "YES! More different than you have ever known!"
People say that the unknown is more attractive than the known. Others add that what you don't know won't kill you. Maybe they're both right. Jack Weis's two-movie strong filmography walks that fine line between utter hilarity and bubbling sleaze in regional American filmmaking. His productions are perfect suffusions of the elements that propel only the uppermost crust of the trash film genre; illogical situations, exotic ludicrousness, and graceless, non-artistic filmmaking. Few uncelebrated directors have the power to throw your senses into such an unnatural funk. Strange then, that the lowdown behind Weis's peculiar deuce, and his subsequent activities for the last thirty years, have become lost to the winds of the swamp.
New Orleans, Louisiana, 1976. A pretty exciting place, fueled by a dingy nightlife of Dixie Beer, gambling joints named The Club Car Lounge, and baked oysters at restaurants like Mosca's. Although the tragic consequences of Hurricane Katrina will forever alter the perception of the French Quarter, there was a time when romantic notions weren't just notions. And Playboy Playmates appeared in low budget horror films.
Jack Weis started out as a regional distributor in New Orleans, mostly working with obscure nudies and similarly themed low budget films. He may have had a hand in the production of two extremely obscure southern dramas, Quadroon (1972) and Storyville (1974). However, his real "break" wouldn't hit until a few years later. When Weis started laying Kodachrome to light, the drinks were cheap and the nights were lit up high. Enter Damballa.
Ted: "You’re the girl that swims in the lake. The one that turns into a snake."
Damballa: "YESSS...I’m going to tell you my story. The story of all!"
The next time someone tells you that there are no ambiguous perplexities left in this modern world of cinema, don't you believe 'em. In 1976, legendary director/huckster Donn Davison made a deal with small time New Orleans film distributor Jack Weis. Weis had released a voodoo-tinged, PG rated exploitation film to stunning heights of failure. Donn D., forever on the prowl for a good outlet for his talents, teamed up with Weis, intending to score a hit. The two cut up the film's footage, rehired an actor or two, and added new scenes. Crypt Of Dark Secrets was the result. Utter flop. Back to the bayou. Two years later, Jack Weis was once again behind the French Quarter cameras. Mardi Gras Massacre, a bonafide scum classic (and UK Video Nasty) was born. He would never direct again.
Prostitute: "You aren't weird are you?"
The Killer: "YES! More different than you have ever known!"
People say that the unknown is more attractive than the known. Others add that what you don't know won't kill you. Maybe they're both right. Jack Weis's two-movie strong filmography walks that fine line between utter hilarity and bubbling sleaze in regional American filmmaking. His productions are perfect suffusions of the elements that propel only the uppermost crust of the trash film genre; illogical situations, exotic ludicrousness, and graceless, non-artistic filmmaking. Few uncelebrated directors have the power to throw your senses into such an unnatural funk. Strange then, that the lowdown behind Weis's peculiar deuce, and his subsequent activities for the last thirty years, have become lost to the winds of the swamp.
New Orleans, Louisiana, 1976. A pretty exciting place, fueled by a dingy nightlife of Dixie Beer, gambling joints named The Club Car Lounge, and baked oysters at restaurants like Mosca's. Although the tragic consequences of Hurricane Katrina will forever alter the perception of the French Quarter, there was a time when romantic notions weren't just notions. And Playboy Playmates appeared in low budget horror films.
Jack Weis started out as a regional distributor in New Orleans, mostly working with obscure nudies and similarly themed low budget films. He may have had a hand in the production of two extremely obscure southern dramas, Quadroon (1972) and Storyville (1974). However, his real "break" wouldn't hit until a few years later. When Weis started laying Kodachrome to light, the drinks were cheap and the nights were lit up high. Enter Damballa.
Ted: "You’re the girl that swims in the lake. The one that turns into a snake."
Damballa: "YESSS...I’m going to tell you my story. The story of all!"
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