Not really a straight-up horror thriller, but not a full satire either, Bucket of Blood is an odd little black-and-white gem—simple, but crudely effective. Considering Corman’s lowly budget, the film has wonderfully evocative noir-esque lighting, and Dick Miller is memorably pathetic as a would-be artist who turns homicidal to create his “masterpieces.” And, dig it baby, the film is really far out in the way it nails the pomposity of late-’50s Beatnik culture—including the groovy pseudo-intellectual language, ahead-of-their-time obsession with coffee, meandering unrhymed poetry, and berets. It’s a gas, man. (DVD)