"Why do you suggest anything to Walter? Are you the spokesman for society, come to put your stifling finger in his eye?"
- Bucket Of Blood, courtesy of the shadowy and mysterious Codename V.
This is easily my all-time favorite Roger Corman movie. I know it's sacrilege to say this, but I think most Corman is just kinda... lame. Not even so-bad-it's-good, just... lame. Especially when compared to other masters of so-bad-it's-good, like Troma and Full Moon and Fred Olen Ray.
Anyway, controversial and contrarian tastes aside, Bucket Of Blood is a bit of a departure for Corman, since it has no cheesy monsters or lame special effects. Just a pathetic, not-very-bright beatnik/artist wannabe named Walter, who becomes an overnight sensation in the beatnik/artist community with his shockingly realistic sculptures, which look uncannily like clay or plaster slathered over a dead body. This is worth seeing solely on the basis of the florid and overwrought beat poetry and general hepness on display, of which the above quote is but one small sample.
Look! A cat!