Review—Invaders of the Lost Gold (Severin)

Author: Palo Sionoplia

Invaders of the Lost Gold (aka Horror Safari aka Greed) is the addled brainchild of Dick Randall, the infamous exploitation producer of shlock oddities that include The French Sex Murders, The Wild Wild World of Jayne Mansfield, and, of course, Pieces (which is exactly what you think it is). Ever searching for a breakout hit, Randall notoriously scooped ideas, set pieces, and full plotlines from popular fare, only to twist them into sexploitation-action hybrids that couldn’t get arrested in Hollywood. Invaders of the Lost Gold follows the Randall formula, borrowing liberally from Apocalypse Now, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and even Treasure of the Sierra Madre, though, of course, none of those films feature Stu Whitman duking it out in a topless bar or Laura Gemser bathing in the jungle.

Shot in the Philippines in the early eighties, director Alan Birkinshaw (who would go on to make slightly more respectable fare like the 1989 version of Agatha Christie’s Ten Little Indians) stumbles through an ‘original story by Dick Randall’ which was possibly scribbled on a cocktail napkin and said something like ‘wander in jungle looking for gold; add nudity.’ The plot is loose—to say the least—but plot is hardly the point of this exercise. Whitman takes center stage here, leading a ragtag group through the wild jungle in search of a cache of WWII-era gold. Of course, nobody on this journey fully trusts anyone else, and it’s not long before the bodies begin to stack. In addition to the violence and the nudity, viewers are treated to several doses of unintentional hilarity. (For example, the ‘stealthy’ adventurers keep setting up camp in a bright yellow contraption that looks like a cross between a circus tent and a set piece from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.)

Severin’s transfer, remastered from the original negative, is almost certainly the best this film is ever going to look. Colors are vivid and detail is considerable, especially during the lengthy jungle sequences. Audio is clear and problem-free…though much of the laughable dialogue (i.e. “You attack me? I kill you!”) is another matter entirely.

Severin has also included a pair of noteworthy supplements. The first, “Rumble in the Jungle,” is a jocular interview with Birkinshaw. The director acknowledges the film’s limitations without shame and also points to moments (such as the opening WWII sequence) of which he is particularly proud. The second supplement is twenty-odd minutes of outtakes from the documentary (not included here) Machete Maidens Unleashed, in which we’re treated to Birkinshaw and Corliss Randall, Dick Randall’s widow, telling tales of the raconteur producer during his heyday. These entertaining stories will make you wistful for the days when making a film like Invaders of the Lost Gold was still possible, an era in which the characters behind the cameras were as colorful and uninhibited as their film productions.

Invaders of the Lost Gold is not going to be to everyone’s taste, but afficionados of Philippine exploitation cinema will find this an essential example of the subgenre. Fans of Raw Force and Severin’s Hemisphere Horrors box set will want to grab this mind-melting film, the product of an era in which renegade American producers ran to the other side of the world to produce salacious content that Hollywood wouldn’t touch.

Note: Slipcover fans may want to consider purchasing this blu-ray directly from Severin’s website, as you’ll have the option to buy artwork featuring an, ahem, unobscured portrait of Laura Gemser.