Break out your love beads and black-light posters.  It’s time to truck on down Hippie Highway.

The Sixties didn’t suddenly end on December 31, 1969, 11:59 pm.  Nope, bellbottoms and atrociously unstyled long hair on men continued well into the Seventies, despite the murders at Altamont and Kent State in addition to Haight-Asbury becoming a heroin haven providing the hint that perhaps the Age Of Aquarius was not going to be a utopia of peace, love and understanding, after all.

Addled by snorting lines of LSD and shooting up marijuana pills, youngsters all over the world still clung to quaint notions such as “All you need is love” in 1972.  Which just happens to be the release year of our feature presentation, The Deathmaster.

Pico (Bill Ewing) and his old lady Rona (Brenda Dickson) are, like, doing their thing, hanging out with some groovy folks who paint, do interpretive dancing, play acoustic guitars, and perform all sorts of other far-out avoidances of getting a j-o-b.

The middle-aged and balding proprietor of Pop’s Head Shop (John Fiedler—yup, that John Fiedler) digs where the kids are coming from, and you can tell he’s cool, because he wears a multi-colored shawl.

Crashing the community is biker bully Monk (William Jordan), his motorcycle mama Esslin (Betty Ann Rees), and a few other Harley hounds.  True to form, Monk wants to fistify the head hippie, but Pico bashes the biker’s butt, employing a kung fu style that, judging from his two-extended-fingers-on-each-hand stance, is the legendary Shaolin Air Quotes style.

Pop believes what punk Monk thunk stunk-->

Fight finished, Pico invites the fallen foe and friends back to the pacifist’s pad.  After all, you always love the one you hurt.

That establishes the first two factions in our three-way throwdown.  Contestant Number Three is—tympani roll—“Come on down, Khorda,” portrayed by Robert Quarry, escaping typecasting after playing a vampire in Count Yorga, Vampire (1970)  and The Return Of Count Yorga (1971) by, erm, playing a vampire in The Deathmaster.

Listen, just because Khorda is a long-haired, bearded guru figure who tantalizes the naïve with mystical babble such as “And if the seed of the flower drops, does it find its destiny in tomorrow, or is there a wish of fulfillment in all of tomorrow?” and he’s transforming innocent youths into killers, NO WAY is The Deathmaster based on Charles Manson and capitalizing on the national fear and repulsion over the Tate-LaBianca murders, okay?  Movie producers would never exploit a sickening tragedy, just to make a quick buck.

<--No resemblance to Manson whatsoever

It’s bikers vs. hipsters vs. biters.  Once the premise is established, there’s not much that comes across as alluring “on paper.”  But the entertainment value in some films comes fully down to what transpires on screen.  And this here is one of them there.

Okay, skeptics, name your favorite vampire movie.

Does it include…

*A mute with a flute portrayed by someone who would go on to appear in zero more films?

*A female lead who became a major soap opera star and eventually was crucified online by catty strangers in a feeding frenzy?

*A supporting player whose hit novelty record every single person reading this has heard hundreds of times, especially around Halloween?  (more on that below)

*Songs by freakin’ Ray Coniff?

*A peacenik who handily defeats a biker thug, thanks to his kung fu prowess—then completely forgets his martial arts mastery for the climactic fight scene?

Furthermore, do I own the pressbook to your favorite?

Of course the answer to all of the above is a resounding “No,” conclusively proving The Deathmaster RULES and your fave sucks dog eggs.

Other highly original highpoints include…oh, you want to know about the song?  Among the cast is one Bobby Pickett.  As in Bobby “Boris” Pickett.  As in, yes, the man who gave the world “The Monster Mash”!!!

Spotlight on Bobby Pickett, y'all (yeah yeah)-->

Another of the many intriguing aspects of DM as compared to, well, vampix you’ve actually heard of, is how heavily datestamped this 1972 release is—and how/if it holds up viewed through present-day peepers.

Back when prototype Picos were banging a gong during nights in white satin while contemplating Chuck Berry’s dingaling, right-on hepcat no doubt heavily identified with the peace-loving party and considered them the protagonists in our bloodsucker ballet.

Through 21st century eyes?  When the fed-up-with-tomfoolery Monk claims he’s splitting to secure some scotch and steak, you may be incited to shout “Wait for me.”  And with the Manor On Movies No Spoilers policy strictly in place, let’s just say the shock ending designed to elicit a “Whoa, heavy bummer, man" might very well have you going “Haha, nice one!”

Nonetheless, even if you share my barely noticeable cynicism towards flower children, please don’t let it inspire you to dismiss The Deathmaster in its entirety.  I am not begging you to watch.  (Wait until you get a load of this next line.)  All I am saying is give Pico a chance.  (Is that brilliant or what?)