Drive-In Dust Offs: RAW MEAT aka DEATH LINE (1972)

British horror was still going through a transitional phase by the early ‘70s. Trying to turn people’s perception away from cobweb strewn castles and fog laden swamps, they played in the modern day with such classics as Tales from the Crypt, The Abominable Dr. Phibes, The Vault of Horror, Theatre of Blood, and Asylum. (Okay, those are either anthologies or Vincent Price films, but there are many other goodies as well.) So strong was the vibe that an American made the leap across the pond for his directorial debut, Raw Meat AKA Death Line (1972), a grimy, funny, and surprisingly poignant first effort from Gary Sherman (Dead and Buried).

Released in England in ’72 under the original Death Line title, it would take until September of ’73 to be unleashed on American soil by AIP under its better known moniker. Critics were decidedly mixed on Raw Meat; Roger Ebert considered it a “good debut” for Sherman, while others derided it as slow and grotesque. (Rex Reed: “Slimier than spending a night at the Chelsea Hotel” – probably; I don’t know if he even saw it.) The film proudly rode the drive-in and grindhouse circuit for a few years before succumbing to the ether. But like an unearthed odor wafting from a subway platform, once Raw Meat permeates your senses, its power is hard to shake off.

Let’s head down below to find the tale. Our film opens with some groovy, synthesized funkojazz to let us know we’re in London, post swinging ‘60s. We follow James Manfred O.B.E. (James Cossins – Gandhi) as he flits drunkenly from one skeezy strip club to another, finally landing on the platform of the London Underground where he mistakes a young lass for a prostitute. After a swift kick to the plums, Manfred quickly passes out on the tunnel stairs. Passersby Patricia (Sharon Gurney – Women in Love) and her American boyfriend Alex (David Ladd – The Wild Geese) see Manfred strewn across the steps and they seek out and locate a constable. When they return with help, Manfred is gone.

Enter Inspector Calhoun (Donald Pleasence – Halloween) and Detective Sergeant Rogers (Norman Rossington – A Hard Day’s Night), now on a mission to track down Manfred’s whereabouts, which leads to the discovery of an abandoned section of the Underground. A group of miners (men and women) became trapped a hundred years prior, were assumed dead, and never seen again. They survived on human flesh and inbreeding for generations, but now the bloodline has stopped. Only one remains, and he’s hungry. Before long, Patricia is kidnapped by the cannibal for repopulation; will Alex and the police be able to stop him in time?

All I knew of Raw Meat was that it was a cannibalistic underground creature feature with a solid reputation. What I wasn’t expecting was a film that bathes the antagonist in such a sympathetic light. The ‘Man’ (Hugh Armstrong – The Beastmaster), as he’s referred to in the credits, is a roaming goliath, the king of his subterranean lair. When his mate passes, he wails in agony; there’s a terrific sequence, dialog less, of him dealing with his grief and giving the viewer an opportunity to see life through his eyes. It’s a lengthy sequence as well; one that forces us to absorb the environment, to take in the insistent drip of the leaky, rusted pipes, the half eaten corpses, and the monuments to the dead. It’s an unusual and brave screenwriting choice by Ceri Jones, from Sherman’s story: to stop the momentum of a traditional narrative to focus on the plight of the antagonist, instead of a cat and mouse game between heroes and supposed villains. The brilliant art direction of Dennis Gordon-Orr (Cuba) ensures the viewer is immersed in the subterranean squalor.

So what of up above? Well, one could make a claim that Raw Meat is a commentary on the decay of modern society; other that Manfred’s (ultimately useless) status as an O.B.E., everyone else are working class stiffs or worse. The seedier side of London is on display, and other than better hygiene, cleaner accommodations, and less diphtheria, the conditions aren’t that different between the have nots above or below. However, empathy isn’t necessarily dictated by circumstance; Ladd’s Alex is an insufferable twit with no regard for anyone but himself (and begrudgingly, Patricia) – when they come across a slumping Manfred in the tunnel, Alex tells Patricia to mind her own business and not get involved. On the other hand, the ‘Man’ cares very deeply for his spouse, tending to her as she lay dying, tears falling down his disease ridden face. His only goal is survival; if that means feasting on some unfortunate souls who come close to his home, so be it.

While the heart of the film lies with the morbidly touching activity below, the narrative thrust insists on following the police procedural (I mean, someone has to stop our antagonist). Sherman wins again by casting Pleasence, who gives an all time turn as Inspector Calhoun. I’ve never seen him give such a relaxed and lively performance. His Calhoun is a crank, dripping with sarcasm and a serious disdain for the upper crust. (Witness his scene with Christopher Lee as Manfred’s superior – a true master class in droll manners.) This is not the underwhelming Loomis of the last couple Halloween films, but rather an actor firmly invested in the material and having the time of his life. Helping Pleasence is Rossington as Rogers, the pair feeding off each other and grounding the material with a levity that balances the dour doings underground. Only Ladd comes off poorly, due to the acridity of the Alex character and a stilted performance, no more evident than when he shares scenes with the hyperactive Pleasence.

Raw Meat is also considered a spiritual cousin to The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974); but outside of a similar focus on familial monstrosities and their function in and out of society, the two have little in common. Massacre’s editorial style is at odds with Meat’s heightened theatrics; faint echoes of Phantom of the Opera in the latter extinguish any comparison.

Rather, through Sherman’s assured direction, what it adds to the genre is this: some taut moments, great makeup and limited but excellent effects, pathos for miles, and a career highlight for a beloved character actor. Raw Meat is just as fresh as the day it crawled to the surface.

Raw Meat is currently available on DVD from MGM, and will be available on Blu-ray by Blue Underground in the near future.