DEATH CURSE OF TARTU

A film bereft of both budget and imagination, DEATH CURSE OF TARTU is a dreary, low budget horror exploitation film that found a home in grind houses and drive-ins across the country in 1966. Shot entirely on location in the Florida Everglades and featuring horrible sound and murky cinematography, this 87 minute epic was written and directed by auteur wannabe William Grefe. Who?

The horror starts when an archeologist stumbles across a cave in the Everglades containing a coffin that houses the mummified remains of the ancient voodoo witch doctor Tartu. The corpse comes to life and the explorer is killed (off camera).

Next, another archeologist heads into the swamp in search of his missing peer. He makes camp for the night and soon hears the ominous beat of distant voodoo drums. He goes to investigate and meets his grisly end when a giant python drops out of a tree (more like shoved out by an intrepid animal wrangler) on top of the hapless man.

Finally, six people (three men, three women) load up on air boats and take off in search of the two missing men. This search party is comprised of an older scientist and his comely wife and four of his students (I guess they volunteered for this gig for extra credit). While the professor tries to solve the mystery of the missing men, the swinging teens hold a dance party on the shores of the swamp. The swimsuit clad women gyrate wildly (the camera lingers lovingly on their twisting torsos), while bad, tinny rock music blares from their portable radio. Then, the jungle drums start up again.

Before you know it two of the students end up in the water where they are menaced by a shark. Yes, a shark. In the fresh waters of the Everglades. The shark is brought to vivid life by a cheap rubber dorsal fin and stock footage from some other, far better film. Next, one of the party is attacked by a very large (and real, in many shots) alligator. That giant python makes another appearance and the professor finally deduces that the attacking animals are animated by the spirit of Tartu. The professor and his wife find the cave where Tartu's body resides and find themselves trapped with the evil corpse. They manage to escape (just barely) and Tartu gives chase (granted, at a very slow, shambling pace), before he meets his final doom in a pool of quicksand. Cue jungle drums. The end.

Those drums. Those goddam jungle drums are heard incessantly throughout the movie but their source is never revealed. Not once are we shown any natives pounding upon the drums. The sound is just inexplicably there.

Is there anything worthwhile about this hot mess? Well, the women are attractive and the Tartu make-up and effects are fairly well done. But outside of that, it's a turkey, a real bottom-of-the-barrel piece of celluloid effluvia. Thumbs down.