I'm not certain that this DVD's release was intentionally planned to come so quickly on the heels of the latest Indiana Jones film, but this horror flick from 1965 (just out from Legend Films) does deal with skulls and stars not one, but two future denizens of the Star Wars universe (anyone recognize Grand Moff Tarkin and Count Dooku in the picture above?). I suspect it's more coincidence than anything, but there are enough elements present to make fans of classic horror utter "why, what have we here?" The Skull was directed by Freddie Francis and stars Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, with a brief appearance by Michael Gough (Alfred from the Tim Burton Batman movies), all of whom were veterans of Britain's Hammer Films, the studio that set the standard for gothic horror from the mid 1950s through the early 70s. This is not a Hammer film, but is in fact a product of Amicus Productions, another British studio that is best known today for its anthology horror films like Tales From the Crypt and The House That Dripped Blood.

It's difficult to underestimate the significance of The Clash in rock 'n' roll. They belong on any serious list of the top five rock 'n' roll performers of all time, and their 1979 masterpiece London Calling belongs on any list of the top five albums. But beyond that, do we know who they were? Julien Temple's new documentary Joe Strummer: The Future Is Unwritten attempts to answer that question, although if you want to know more about Mick Jones, Topper Headon or Paul Simonon, it'll have to wait for another movie. This is Strummer's world, and we all just wish we were living in it. The movie begins, like any biography, with Strummer's parents. His father was a diplomat that moved from country to country; Strummer was born in Turkey as John Graham Mellor, and later insisted on being called "Woody" before adopting his legendary moniker.

The singer, songwriter and guitarist attended art school, lived as a squatter in an abandoned London flat and busked on the street before forming his first band, a rockabilly unit. But when he saw the Sex Pistols play, he decided to move in a different direction. The Clash was born, and with it a series of extraordinary shows and five great albums. But only the movie's first hour is dedicated to the Clash. As Strummer intones on the soundtrack, they made every conceivable mistake: success went to their heads, too many drugs, etc. They even made up a few new ones. The band grew successful, they began squabbling and they lost their direction. Temple includes a terrific sequence in which he intercuts two performances of "White Riot," one from a small club in 1977 and one from a giant stadium in 1983, brilliantly illustrating how big they grew and how far they fell.

You know those movies that really stake a claim in your memory banks -- even if you can't always remember the title? As one of the planet's biggest and most verbose horror geeks, I can't tell you how many emails I've received with this question: "What's that movie where the girl gets chased around her apartment by a freaky voodoo doll??" (OK, I can tell you: Maybe four emails in seven years.)

Anyway, the movie in question is an anthology called Trilogy of Terror, and it's a Zuni Fetish Doll that pursues the shrieking young woman (actually Karen Black) around her apartment in the film's final segement. And to say that this movie has made an impact on folks would be a massive understatement -- even my mother knows this movie! (There was even a sequel, but it's not all that good.)