Werewolf in a Girls Dormitory (1961) - Trailer. Werewolf in a Girls' Dormitory (1961) - Duration.
Werewolf in a Girls' Dormitory. Title: Werewolf in a Girls' Dormitory (1961) 4.8 /10. Want to share IMDb's rating on your own site? WEREWOLF IN A GIRL’S DORMITORY (1961. DORMITORY is a murder-mystery at a “school for wayward girls. Film Review: Werewolf In A Girls Dormitory (1961) Film Review: Werewolf In A Girls Dormitory (1961). Werewolf in a Girl's Dormitory (Lycanthropus) (1961). Werewolf in a Girl's Dormitory. Werewolf in a Girls’ Dormitory (1961). Watch full length Werewolf in a Girls’ Dormitory Movie for Free Online. Watch Werewolf in a Girls’ Dormitory (1961) Free Online. Release Date: 1961 Duration. Movie: Werewolf in a Girls' Dormitory (1961). The detective in charge of the investigation attributes the crime to a wolf.
Werewolf in a Girls’ Dormitory (1. Lycanthropus. Bad Movie fans love compilation tapes of old B- Movie trailers. I’m not talking the coming attractions for old Universal or Hammer movies here.
I mean the real stuff, authentic schlock: ’5. Sci- Fi, ’6. 0s Horror and Spaghetti Westerns, ’7. Blaxploitation and Kung Fu pictures. Freex’s review of one such cassette here.) Still, watching these delightful cinematic artifacts is a bittersweet experience. It compels one to dwell on how boring movies have become in the last couple of decades.
Once a shoestring hilarity like, say, Missile to the Moon would baldly announce itself as a cornucopia of thrills and wonder. Missile is perhaps my favorite trailer of this sort. One short bit features the protagonists being confronted with an awkward giant spider puppet.
Meanwhile, the narration warns us about this “black terror that threatens the Earth.” This raises a number of questions. First, in what manner could a three foot tall spider ? Second, how will it do so, given that it’s on the moon? Third, is it a good idea to show the heroes blowing away the spider with . This would seem to diminish its status as a world- menacing threat. Watching a series of such tapes gives one a taste of a magical time, one where each and every week some cheezy double feature would pop up at the local Bijou or drive- in. Meanwhile, what do we get today?
So much for progress. The market forces that allowed these films to flourish resulted in an amusing system. Often producers such as Sam Katzman or Jim Nicholson would first come up with a marketable title. Next, poster art would be created around said title. These materials would be run by film distributors.
Werewolf in a Girls’ Dormitory (1961). Thus such flicks as I Was a Teenage Werewolf and I Married a Monster from Outer Space.
Only then, if they showed interest in booking such a film, would the actual movie be written and produced. Thus such flicks as I Was a Teenage Werewolf and I Married a Monster from Outer Space.
Only now it’s for their camp value. Hence Satan’s Cheerleaders or Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers or Lobstermen from Mars.
In the modern, ironic era, such films are presented with a wink to the audience. Not so, in the glory days. Back then the films tended to be a straightforward presentation of what the title promised. Arguably the greatest such title was Werewolf in a Girl’s Dormitory. It’s all there, isn’t it? In terms of boiling down the traditional lures of violence and sex into one short formulation, it’s perfect. The movie itself is one of those monster/cheesecake flicks ground out in early ’6.
Europe. Such films as Playgirls and the Vampire or Horrors of Spider Island would mix scantily clad hotties and mayhem. Served up, it should be noted, with somewhat greater explicitness than their contemporary American counterparts. Soon after this European films would become more unabashed, presenting nudity, sex and gore so perverse as to cross over into misogyny and misanthropy. Buxom gals meandering around in elaborate, none- too- revealing lingerie and being rather chastely mauled by goofy monsters was the order of the day. Other common elements of these flicks are on display here as well. For instance, there’s the mystery element to be found in all those German Edgar Wallace adaptations. You know, the ones starring Klaus Kinski and featuring hunchbacked, hooded killers decapitating hordes of victims and that sort of thing.
This is so as to keep us guessing at the werewolf’s identity. It also means that the werewolf could be pretty much anybody with equal validity. Therefore, the only practical way to figure out who it is to wait until everyone but the hero, the heroine and the villain have been killed off. Next, of course, there’s the stilted, poorly dubbed- in dialog. For the connoisseur, each region of the world’s dubbing has its own charms. The most famous here in the States is the Americanized dubbing as seen in old Godzilla movies. The Japanese language doesn’t really match up well with English in terms of meter.
Hence the much- remarked upon and obvious mis- syncing of dialog to lip movement. Japanese speech also tends to be much more terse than its American counterpart. This is what causes so many affirmative . See the following exchange: Japanese Guy, pointing: “Look, it’s Godzilla! We’d better run!”Second Japanese Guy, considering and then nodding sharply: “Hmm!”(It’s always amused me that Japanese are so consensus oriented that they need to consult with each other in situations like this.)On the other extreme are films from Mexico, like those translated by our old friend K.
Unlike the Japanese, Mexican films tend to be extraordinarily dialog heavy. This is at least in part because nothing’s cheaper than having actors stand around and talk.
Mexican Spanish also tends to be spoken at a quicker cadence than English. Even better, the dubbed dialog in films like The. Brainiac or Santa Claus often sounds like it was translated directly from the original Spanish.
This results in long, wordy exchanges in which the grammar is humorously askew. The rhythm of language in German and Italian films, with this being the latter, tends to be closer to American English. Yet while all the typical dubbing quirks in this picture might be (wait for it) less pronounced (ha, I’m so funny), they are still identifiable. Spoken dialog regularly mismatches lip movements. The volume of speech seems just a shade too loud, as if everyone thought everybody else a bit hard of hearing. Long, inexplicable pauses abound, often in mid- sentence.
And the dialog tends to sound overly stiff and formalistic. Ahh, what’s not to love? You know you’re in good hands as soon as the opening credits begin. These are accompanied by exaggeratedly . Not to mention the rather absurd artwork as pictured above.
The credits themselves consist of only three cards. First is the title, lettered in that traditional jagged . The third is the director’s credit. Meanwhile, the second mostly serves to promote the tune, “Ghoul in the School.” Sadly, my copy of the movie fails to features this ditty, or any song whatsoever.
Yet the running time of my tape matches that which is recorded on the Internet Movie Database. This would seem to indicate that my video is complete.
Does anyone have any info on this? We open on an establishing shot of one of those enormous estate houses they have over on the Continent. This is the Institute, the girl’s school indicated in the title. We cut to a barking dog (foreshadowing, and in more ways than one).
Enter a limping guy with a bad right arm. This fellow is trying hard to look like Peter Lorre, with some success. He is Walter, who is, naturally, the film’s official Creepy Red Herring Caretaker.
He shambles over to the school’s gate and admits Julian Olcott, the academy’s new teacher. I wouldn’t have thought you’d hire thirty year- old men to teach at a secluded academy for young women. On the other hand, it’s what Sly Stallone was doing in Switzerland during the Vietnam war, so there you go.
Walter introduces the barking German shepherd as his dog Wolf. He does so directly in front of the buxom crew of students, who are performing their daily calisthenics. One makes a mildly saucy remark in his direction, much to his embarrassment. Another girl, Mary, takes the opportunity to pretend to faint.
She is quickly carried off to the school’s infirmary, which breaks up the exercise session. Sandy, her more cynical friend, provides a little exposition which implies that Mary isn’t any better than she should be. We then cut over to Olcott, now approaching the Director’s office. Inexplicably, this rather prosaic remark is echoed with an ominous chord of music. Boy, imagine if the Director hadn’t been expecting him!
Olcott enters the office and meets the avuncular Mr. Swift, the school’s director. Naturally, Olcott’s arrival provides a handy pretext for some exposition. He was, we learn, recommended for the position by a mutual friend of his and Swift’s. We also learn that he used to be a medical doctor, and was involved in some sort of scandalous incident. This is all left purposely vague, although we’re told Olcott was exonerated in court. His career in tatters, Olcott’s come to build himself a new life as a teacher.
Needless to say, this mysterious background is provided to make Olcott a viable candidate in the Who’s a Werewolf? This, of course, is meant to imply that the student body is made up of delinquent and hence sexually available females. He warns Olcott that the job can be difficult. I shall do my best,” Olcott replies, “because it’s also important to me to find myself.” Swift readily concurs.
Hmm, sounds like maybe Swift has a Dark Secret all of his own. Maybe he’s the werewolf! Numerous wolf howls (uh oh!) are heard in the distance, waking Priscilla and Sandy. I guess the other twenty or so gals are just heavy sleepers.
Looking out a window, they spot Mary sneaking out of the infirmary. She quickly makes it up and over the gated wall encircling the Institute and into the surrounding woods. The girls see that Leonor has witnessed this also, and moreover done nothing to stop her. Apparently he’s taking money to look the other way. Mary, for her part, threatens to expose him if he doesn’t leave her alone.
Breaking away, she crosses over a small water fall and into a nearby clearing. Here she meets her middle- aged lover Sir Alfred Whiteman (Werewolf Suspect #4). He’s a member of the local gentry and, I guess, the guy who funds the school. Whiteman, who looks like a sweatier Mr. Mooney from The Lucy Show, tries to placate her while getting a little sugar. Mary is having none of it, though. She tells him to get her released from the school or else she’ll expose and ruin him.
Whiteman nervously asks about the passionate letters he’s written her. Anyone want to guess what happens next? Did I mention that they cut in a shot of a rising full moon? As she hikes along, Mary is startled by a mysterious figure amongst the trees. She’s off and running but is quickly tackled to the ground. Clawed hands maul her neck as she moans in a somewhat ambiguous manner.