Classic. The word itself conjures up images of something grand. "She has a classic beauty," usually means that you’re looking at a stunning example of womanhood. "This book is a classic," usually implies that you’re reading something of substance and quality, more likely Homer than Harlequin. "This movie is a classic," usually points a finger towards Casablanca, or King Kong, or another film responsible for setting a standard for which other films will be scrutinized against.

Usually.

Other times, it is one of the most misused words in the English language. People throw it around to describe anything of age. Coca-Cola’s original formula became Coca-Cola Classic in an attempt to soothe ruffled feathers after the marketing debacle of Coke II. Cars older than 25 years become "classic," regardless of their pedigree, even though there is nothing "classic" about an Edsel. The term "classic rock" is infuriatingly given to every jerk who noodled with a guitar in the Seventies. The same seems to happen with movies, regardless of quality.

So MTI, under the banner of its "Fangoria Midnight Classics" label (there’s that word again!), has released a fully uncut, restored version of the heavily-edited exploitation sickie "I Drink Your Blood" with double-edged results: while it may indeed be the "definitive version" of the movie, does the movie warrant such a treatment?

Meet S.A.D.O.S., the Sons And Daughters Of Satan, a group of hippies that are into free love, LSD, and chicken sacrifice. Led by the insane Horace Bones (played by the absurd Indian actor Bhaskar), they travel from town to town in their psychedelically satanic bus, partaking in rituals seemingly co-designed by Jack Chick and a 13-year-old boy, complete with waving the horned hand and sacrificing livestock. When they find a young girl named Sylvia spying on their (unfortunately) nude ceremony, they do what any self-respecting satanic hippies would do: they beat and rape her. Discovering the identities of her attackers, Sylvia’s grandfather goes to settle the score, only to be beaten by the S.A.D.O.S. and fed a vial of LSD (these guys are on a roll). Witnessing his grandfather’s ensuing bad trip on the "Ell-whatever," young Pete (who looks like that chubby kid in the awful Cat In The Hat movie) decides to get his revenge by feeding the hippies meat pies he’s contaminated with blood from a rabid dog. I can now die, as I think I may have typed the most absurd sentence in my life.

Anyways, back on track! The hippies soon start to act especially bizarre, seeing as how they’re now rabid from the contaminated meat pies. As if that weren’t enough, one of the infected hippies decides to get in a gang-bang with a group of local construction workers (who should be worrying about plenty of other diseases from that little filly, let alone rabies), thus infecting them as well. Soon, the town is completely overrun by frothing hippies and drooling blue-collar maniacs (who look like they forgot to rinse after a brisk brushing of their teeth), who have only one thing on their mind: blood.

Sadly, I Drink Your Blood seems like an exploitation film without purpose. Starting out almost as if the screenplay were gleaned from a Jack Chick comic strip, it seems more like an excuse to terrify the viewer with characters drawn in absurd, ugly strokes. Somehow, I doubt that a hippie with "peace" and "love" written on his bell-bottoms would be into homicide and rape. The dialogue is completely insipid, the plot progression seems almost random, and the whole thing reeks of a bad educational film stuffed with nudity and violence in order to appease the allegedly "adult" audience that this movie is supposedly pandering to. I honestly can’t imagine any "adult" taking ridiculous crap like this without a bellyful of liquor or a head full of drugs. Not only that, but the thoroughly unnecessary real animal violence against chickens, rats, and a goat, didn‘t make it go down any easier.

It’s not all bad, though. The second half, with the rabies spreading throughout town, has its moments: the army of rabid construction workers proves to be a pretty frightening shot, and there’s some great gore to be had. It reminded me, at times, of Romero’s later film The Crazies (review here), which is ironic, as both films feature the adorably elfin Lynn Lowry as a near-mute. Sadly, the reminders weren’t favorable, as I was thinking "Man, The Crazies was so much better than this!" instead of "This is just like The Crazies!"

For once, I am pleasantly surprised by MTI’s presentation of their material. I Drink Your Blood looks pretty damn good, considering the age and the budget. Sure, there’s grain and print damage to be had, but I doubt that the negative was kept in archival conditions. Colors were quite bold at times, and the overall picture was pretty sharp. The clean mono audio never got muffled or distorted despite the slight hiss that seemed prevalent throughout the film. As for extras, there is most certainly no disappointment in that area. There’s a full length audio commentary from writer/director David Durston and Bhaskar that is an absolute hoot to hear (you haven’t lived until you’ve heard an old Indian man say "buck nekkid"), as well as trailers, radio spots, filmographies, a great featurette featuring Durston and other cast members, and more. Sadly, all these great features are tied up in a thoroughly obnoxious menu system that won’t let you select your option until after their animation is finished, which is especially annoying as the title menu features forty-five seconds of animation which will soon drive you as bonkers as it did yours truly.

I enjoy exploitation films because they can be harrowing simply by pushing the audience’s buttons at the right times, and making sure that their shocks are well-delivered and extreme. Flicks like Last House On The Left (review here) and Fight For Your Life (review here) get by with carefully planned "money shots" meant to disgust and disturb, while still keeping an underlying context to help relate to the viewer. Sadly, I Drink Your Blood’s "shock ‘em because you can" attitude and complete lack of realism, message, or morality makes it a classic in age only.