For the record, there are two films titled "The Astrologer", both released in 1975 and 1976. Both are deliriously bad. The 1976 offering is the product of Craig Denney, an auteur/egomaniac who stars in a film that boasts a script that is either an exercise in stream-of-consciousness screen writing or was conceived during an acid trip or fever dream. Denney himself seems to be a big part of this film's allure, and more can be found on him and his "masterwork" elsewhere on the net. That isn't the film being examined here. The 1975 film, directed by Jon Glickenhaus, is its own special brand of bad.
I watched this on Tubi, a service that seems to have a tendency to edit prints of horror/sci-fi films. This may be the case with "The Astrologer", but I can't say for certain, as I have no desire to seek out an uncut version. After watching enough movies--good or competent movies, that is--you instinctively know when a movie isn't up to parr. Movies that aren't show their seams, and this one has its seams showing all over the place. Copious narration that gives lengthy exposition dumps, captions that label the time and date of specific scenes, jarring jumps to different locales, and other technical things that make you suspect various people put their shovels in to edit this mess into their concept of what it should be. One thing that indicates an amateurish/inept production is the heavy use of dubbing. Most all of the secondary or minor characters are dubbed--this is glaringly evident in the scene in which the female lead, played by Monica Tidwell, visits a fortune teller, and again in the dinner scene in which leads Tidwell and Bill Byrd visit a colleague of Byrd's. Interestingly, the one actor who isn't dubbed--but should have been--was Tidwell, whose molasses-thick Louisiana accent is distracting. Tidwell, a former Playboy Playmate, wasn't cast for her vocal talent, as the nude scenes near the end clearly indicate. Casting is another millstone. The self-important subject of the US government using astrology to keep tabs on potential evil threats would, you would think, necessitate casting some name actors to plump up the flick's marquee value, but alas, no. Not even stalwarts like Joseph Cotton, Glen Ford, Donald Pleasance, or Cameron Mitchell could be procured, which speaks volumes about how low budget this thing was--those guys would appear in anything!
Instead, we get Tidwell, as mentioned earlier, Bill Byrd(who?), and the producer, sporting brown body makeup, eyeliner, and a hypnotic stare, sort of looking like a cross between Jesus and Rasputin.
It could be chalked up to a low budget or first-time director, but the whole production looks like a TV series--cheap sets, scenes supposedly set in India but looking like somebody's back yard, and heavy use of stock footage--either a money saving or run time stretching trick, who knows? The film makers also try to shoehorn too much information about government agencies, end-times conspiracies, and the titular astrology into 90 minutes or under 80 minutes, depending on the cut you're viewing. One thing that can be said in this film's favor is that it isn't boring--it lurches from overheated melodrama to exposition dumps to lengthy uses of stock footage to lengthy closeups of the producer as the bad guy to gratuitous gypsy dancing to Monica Tidwell naked. The ultimate question is this: why haven't the crew of RiffTraxx seized on this?
I watched this on Tubi, a service that seems to have a tendency to edit prints of horror/sci-fi films. This may be the case with "The Astrologer", but I can't say for certain, as I have no desire to seek out an uncut version. After watching enough movies--good or competent movies, that is--you instinctively know when a movie isn't up to parr. Movies that aren't show their seams, and this one has its seams showing all over the place. Copious narration that gives lengthy exposition dumps, captions that label the time and date of specific scenes, jarring jumps to different locales, and other technical things that make you suspect various people put their shovels in to edit this mess into their concept of what it should be. One thing that indicates an amateurish/inept production is the heavy use of dubbing. Most all of the secondary or minor characters are dubbed--this is glaringly evident in the scene in which the female lead, played by Monica Tidwell, visits a fortune teller, and again in the dinner scene in which leads Tidwell and Bill Byrd visit a colleague of Byrd's. Interestingly, the one actor who isn't dubbed--but should have been--was Tidwell, whose molasses-thick Louisiana accent is distracting. Tidwell, a former Playboy Playmate, wasn't cast for her vocal talent, as the nude scenes near the end clearly indicate. Casting is another millstone. The self-important subject of the US government using astrology to keep tabs on potential evil threats would, you would think, necessitate casting some name actors to plump up the flick's marquee value, but alas, no. Not even stalwarts like Joseph Cotton, Glen Ford, Donald Pleasance, or Cameron Mitchell could be procured, which speaks volumes about how low budget this thing was--those guys would appear in anything!
Instead, we get Tidwell, as mentioned earlier, Bill Byrd(who?), and the producer, sporting brown body makeup, eyeliner, and a hypnotic stare, sort of looking like a cross between Jesus and Rasputin.
It could be chalked up to a low budget or first-time director, but the whole production looks like a TV series--cheap sets, scenes supposedly set in India but looking like somebody's back yard, and heavy use of stock footage--either a money saving or run time stretching trick, who knows? The film makers also try to shoehorn too much information about government agencies, end-times conspiracies, and the titular astrology into 90 minutes or under 80 minutes, depending on the cut you're viewing. One thing that can be said in this film's favor is that it isn't boring--it lurches from overheated melodrama to exposition dumps to lengthy uses of stock footage to lengthy closeups of the producer as the bad guy to gratuitous gypsy dancing to Monica Tidwell naked. The ultimate question is this: why haven't the crew of RiffTraxx seized on this?