“I will talk to you of art, for there is nothing else to talk about, for there is nothing else. Life is an obscure hobo, bumming a ride on the omnibus of art. Burn gas, buggies, and whip your sour cream of circumstance and hope, and go ahead and sleep your bloody heads off.”  –poet Maxwell H. Brock (Julian Burton, in a ridiculously fake beard)

And so begins “A Bucket Of Blood,” Roger Corman’s surprisingly-funny-on-purpose low-low-low budget ($50,000) comedy-thriller that tells the story of Walter Paisley (played by icon Dick Miller), a nebbishy busboy at The Yellow Door, the local coffee shop/art house, who longs to be a famous artist some day.  Unfortunately, Walter lacks the talent to do, well, much of anything (impotently screaming, “Be a nose!” while punching a clay sculpture he’s trying to make)–until he accidentally kills his landlady’s cat by stabbing it through a wall (just go with it).  He covers the dead cat with clay, turning it into a cat sculpture that The Yellow Door patrons go gaga over.

One of Walter’s victims–er, sculptures.

A few more dead bodies, a few more new sculptures, and Walter is well on his way to fame and fortune.  Or a tragic death. One or the other.

The script by Charles B. Griffith is pretty funny, effectively skewering the pretentious beatnik scene of the 50’s with lines like, “I’m proud to say my poetry is only understood by that minority which is aware,” and, “Sylvia, didn’t you see me wave my zen stick?”  As Walter accidentally-on-purpose kills more people and creates more sculptures out of them, his fans at The Yellow Door become ever more adoring.  Walter laps up the attention, at one point wearing a paper crown, a star on his lapel, a flamboyant ascot tie, and holding a plunger like a kingly scepter as he sits upon a throne on the coffee house’s stage, swigging fancy booze.

Dick Miller is terrific as Walter Paisley, making the transition from sympathetic talentless nerd to annoying talentless hack not-quite-as-forcefully as you would think in a movie famously shot in just 5 days.  And honorable mention to Julian Burton as Maxwell H. Brock, whose pompous poetic proclamations punctuate the picture with perfect panache.

Yes, the budget is woefully low. Yes, the effects are cheap, bordering on ludicrous (my favorite being the cat that, 2 seconds after dying, has turned into a very rigid and stiff taxidermied feline). Yes, some of the acting is silly and obvious (although, again, I must admit that the beatniks are sometimes hilariously wild, man. Dig it).   And even with all those caveats, I enjoyed the heck out of this thing, and if you’re in the mood for a cheap, classic horror flick with more than its fair share of chuckles, you might enjoy it, too.

Uncle Mike sez: check it out.