Every horror and exploitation scavenger has likely had a run-in with the work of Al Adamson at some point. With titles in his filmography like Blood of Dracula’s Castle (1969) and The Naughty Stewardesses (1974), how could any trash movie enthusiast resist? The son of low budget western actor/director Victor Adamson (AKA Denver Dixon), Adamson was quite an interesting character. He was equal parts slaphappy, brilliant, naive, and innovative behind the camera and his body of work is as strangely charming as it is offbeat. He and frequent collaborator, producer/writer Samuel M. Sherman, closely followed hot new trends during the drive-in and grindhouse days of the late 1960s up through the late 1970s.

To keep things fresh and keep their company Independent-International Pictures afloat, the pair would even go so far as mixing newly shot material with previously released films to produce an outrageous and unique body of work. Eventually, Independent-International’s luck ran out and Adamson seemed to have trouble transitioning from the wilder exploitation days to the home video market. One project concerning UFOs in the 1980s got completely out of control and has even developed its own conspiracy theories as to why it was abandoned. Shortly after that, Adamson walked away from filmmaking and began a career in real estate. Then, in 1995, Al Adamson was gone; the victim of foul play at the hands of someone he thought he knew.

While the title and taglines on the artwork capitalize on the dark fate of its subject, this is a moving, funny, and entertaining story that looks far beyond the sordid details of Al Adamson’s tragic death. Instead, it focuses on his life’s work and friendships he made along the way including world-renowned cinematographer, Vilmos Zsigmond (The Deer Hunter (1978)). The most frightening thing for me in regards to Adamson’s death is how an evil, conniving, and altogether dull person can simply step into someone’s life, take advantage of their kindness, and bring about their horrific end for no other reasons than simple greed and selfishness.

More than just a bunch of talking heads, Blood & Flesh mixes things up quite nicely with archival footage, film clips, behind-the-scenes photographs, and more to keep the pace moving at a fine clip. Director David Gregory has been making documentaries about films and filmmakers for over 20 years, so it is no surprise at how good Blood & Flesh turned out. Fans of cult cinema owe it to themselves to check out this tribute to a bygone era of filmmaking and the films of Al Adamson ASAP. The story of the life and death of Al Adamson is even weirder than I expected.

Severin did a great job on their presentation of this documentary. The movie looks and sounds amazing. Extras include some extended interviews and outtakes with folks who worked with Adamson over the years that didn’t make the final cut. A promo for Adamson’s unfinished Beyond This Earth documentary, and a trailer for Blood & Flesh. Also included on the disc is Adamson’s film The Female Bunch (1971), interviews with its cast and crew, and assorted trailers. Despite being patched together from a number of prints (of various conditions) to get the most complete version possible, The Female Bunch looks surprisingly good.

Director – David Gregory

Cast – Samuel M. Sherman, John “Bud” Cardos, Fred Olen Ray, Russ Tamblyn

Country of Origin – US

Discs – 1

Distributor – Severin

Reviewer – Richard Glenn Schmidt