It Came From the Basement: Stigma
By John Seal
March 2, 2005
Stigma (1972 USA)
The story: Calvin Crosse, the young new doctor assigned to tend to the ailing residents of the tiny burg of Stilford, is given a frosty reception by the townsfolk, who’ve never had an African-American for a neighbor before. Dr. Crosse soon begins to learn that the color of his skin isn’t the only reason the villagers are keeping their distance, and he starts to unearth a dark secret with serious ramifications for the community’s future wellbeing.
The film: What is the definition of stigma? At the outset of this unusual feature, it seems to be skin color, as Dr. Calvin Crosse (Philip Michael Thomas) heeds a mysterious recording left by his mentor, the now deceased Doctor Thorn, summoning him to the remote, god-fearing island town of Stilford, located somewhere off the coast of Louisiana. Thorn’s message implores Crosse to help stem a dangerous but unnamed epidemic that is threatening the residents. Crosse, recently released from prison after serving time for an unspecified offense, is ready to put the big city behind him — within minutes of leaving the local lockup, he’s been waylaid by hustlers trying to get him to visit the local nudie bar, propositioned by an outrageous looking hooker, and bumped into by thoughtless drunks weaving their way down the street. It’s time to lead the bucolic life of a country doctor — but Crosse is in for more than birthing babies and nursing old timers.
Dr. Thorn also left Calvin a reel of 16-millimeter film, and one night Cal and his friend Bill (Harley Cary Poe) decide to take a look at it. The two are soon engrossed in (if not grossed out by) a fairly grisly sex-ed featurette hosted by Brooklyn born DJ ‘Cousin Brucie’ Morrow, who expounds at considerable length on the dangers of venereal diseases. (“I’m here today to talk to the teenagers and young adults…about something that might be considered a dirty word…the cold hard facts about V.D.!”) As Morrow holds forth we’re treated to a slide show featuring an array of particularly nasty venereal sores, swollen limbs, and collapsed noses.
Cal and Bill rapidly lose their appetites, but it isn’t until later that night that they learn the true significance of this audio-visual horror show. Call it lucky coincidence or cinematic karma, but round about midnight Calvin is paid a visit by Jeremy, the island’s crazy and extremely talkative lighthouse keeper. Calvin’s VD radar is, naturally, on full alert, and he gives Jeremy a checkup and discovers that — you guessed it! — the old coot’s body is riddled with the symptoms of advanced syphilis. Calvin may be an ex-con, but the Hippocratic Oath is still in full effect, and he’s soon on the trail of Jeremy’s unlucky (and obviously desperate) sexual partners. Local lawman Sheriff Whitehead (Peter Clune) seems particularly averse to the presence of a black man in town, especially an uppity one who plans to test all the ladies at the local brothel for the clap, and he delegates two hulking rednecks to deter the doctor from making a whorehouse call. Unintimidated by the threats of Whitehead’s paid goons, Calvin makes some unexpected discoveries at the cathouse that send him back in the direction of Stilford, where the locals’ Dionysian revels — revels that implicate both Sheriff Whitehead and his angry young daughter D.D. (Josie Johnson) — send the plot veering out of Cronenberg country and into Wicker Man territory. Stigma concludes with a final public service pronouncement on the dangers of unsafe sex and a dose of bloody revenge in the phallic confines of Jeremy’s lighthouse.
The cast and crew: Before going on to fame and fortune as Ricardo Tubbs in Michael Mann’s trend-setting cop series Miami Vice, a struggling young actor named Philip Michael Thomas appeared in a series of very low budget action features, including (in addition to Stigma) Black Streetfighter, Death Drug, and Coonskin. Thomas’s career arc features some deep valleys on either side of his early ‘80s television success, and though his well documented money troubles and psychic ad lawsuits seem to be behind him, he still resides in the Where Are They Now? file. New York DJ ‘Cousin Brucie’ Morrow, on the air since the 1950s and still going strong today, furthered his big screen career in films such as the enjoyable soft-core sex romp Gas Pump Girls and the jaw droppingly bad Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. For the balance of the cast, Stigma was as good as it got, though Harley Poe managed to land bit parts in Scorsese’s Taxi Driver and James Toback’s Fingers before hanging up the greasepaint.
Stigma remains a footnote to director-screenwriter David Durston’s meteoric career. Durston is best remembered for 1970’s now legendary rabid hippie epic, I Drink Your Blood. His only credited feature after this was a 1975 hardcore effort entitled Boynapped!, starring bisexual porn star Jamie Gillis. Cinematographer Robert M. Baldwin went on to lens a number of beloved genre pics, including The Exterminator, Zombie Island Massacre, Frankenhooker, and Basket Case 2. The rest of the crew returned to their day jobs.
Nostalgia value: Not much. Though the film is clearly set in the early 1970s, there are few cultural references, no groovy clothing (wardrobe was clearly beyond the film’s budget), and only one kinky afro.
The print: Other than a few missing frames in an early bar scene, Raja Films apparently utilized a complete print for their video master. That said, the print is hardly state of the art and there’s hiss and rumble throughout the frequently incoherent audio track. Regardless, Stigma probably didn’t look much better than this when it played the drive-in circuit, so chances are this is close to as good as it gets.
DVD prognosis: Fans of I Drink Your Blood may have some interest in seeing what came next for director Durston, but Stigma’s relative lack of gore and insistence on grungy realism will likely only appeal to a small subset of dedicated exploitation fans. Thomas may still have a small following (all of whom will probably e-mail me to tell me he’s still a big star) that might be interested in seeing what their boy was up to before he donned the pastel leisure suits. Bottom line: at best, Stigma might qualify for a low budget, low quality job from a company like Fred Olen Ray’s Retromedia. Emphasis on the ‘might’.
Ratings:
Film: C+. It’s badly acted and badly written, but Stigma’s unique storyline and deadly serious public health department rhetoric make it compulsive viewing.
Print: C+. Raja’s print is full frame, which seems to accurately represent the film’s original aspect ratio. As mentioned above, the film is missing a few frames in an early scene. This print only clocks in around the 75-minute mark, and I consider IMDb’s listed running time of 93 minutes highly speculative. Perhaps there’s a missing reel of Cousin Brucie’s venereal nasties that got cut from the video master — wouldn’t THAT make for a special DVD treat?
DVD worthiness: C. Not gruesome enough for the gore market, Stigma’s preachy message on the virtues of safe sex will also, erm, turn off some viewers. It’s an interesting film, but one that has extremely limited appeal.
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