The 1959 version of A Bucket of Blood was a cult classic. It came complete with in-depth characters who were either creepy, flawed or, at the very least, very believable. This is the opposite of the 1995 remake of the same movie. Somewhere along the way someone thought it would be a brilliant idea to carve out a well loved movie by toning down the character development and upping the nudity factor. Sadly, the quirky characters were the exact reason why A Bucket of Blood was worth owning.

The 1959 version was a dark comedy directed by Roger Corman and written by Charles B Griffith. Incidentally, they were the geniuses behind the original Little Shop of Horrors.

The lead character is Walter, a sad little busboy who would rather be an artist. Admittedly he is a tad bitter about his life and his feelings of inferiority are probably worsened by the snooty arty types who visit his workplace (read:cafe). In real life he would be the angry young man who pops up in trashy talk shows. Well, Walter gets an 'A' for effort, he does try hard. Unfortunately, his sculptures look worse than the meager scribbling of a teletubby. And then, one day Walter showcases a macabre piece of art – a plaster cat with a knife sticking out of it. It's a hit, or as bit a hit as it can be in an eatery. Suddenly there is an increased demand for his work. “Walter, when is your next piece coming?” people asked, oblivious to the fact that he was very disturbed with frayed nerves. Incidentally, his landlady was looking for her cat. And Walter's kitchen was missing his bread knife. Of course no one realized Walter's secret 'ingredient' in his plaster mix until it was too late.

Like I said before, the most likable feature about this movie is the character portrayal. Walter is a moody mess who alternates between angry jerking gestures and slouched 'I know I suck' shoulders. His boss, Leonard is a fidgety and cowardly fellow who, perhaps, employed Walter to make himself feel superior. All in all, with their weird little mannerisms, no character comes across as a shallow caricature. It is also refreshing that no male character oozes testosterone in the modern 'I have something to prove' manner.