Part of the fun of watching exploitation films is the gimmicks some producers will use to get an audience into their movies, usually more than once. Title changes were popular--if a movie did poorly as DAY OF THE WOMAN, call it I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE and re-release it with a whole new ad campaign--but schlockmeister Al Adamson topped them all. When one of his movies received a terrible reception (which was the case more often than not, considering the usual ineptitude of an Adamson production), he not only slapped a new moniker on it, but he added new footage to it as well, essentially making a "new" movie out of fifteen minutes' worth of material.
When Adamson and producer Sam Sherman failed to sell a lukewarm heist thriller called ECHO OF TERROR, they went back, added a mad scientist subplot and called it PSYCHO-A-GO-GO, which also tanked. Adamson went back one more time, throwing in some half-assed zombie footage and more mad scientist shenanigans (oh, and Tommy Kirk), and thus BLOOD OF GHASTLY HORROR was born. (For a more detailed description of this turkey's lineage, I refer you to the review from fellow cine-masochist The Cinema Snob.)
The DVD has an intro from Sherman, who's seen allegedly disposing of the remains of critics of GHASTLY HORROR in plastic trash bags, adding that we too could share a similar fate if we don't like the film. Aside from it not being funny, it's a disgustingly arrogant response from a man whose primarily motivation in the movie business was to make a quick buck. I'm fairly certain Martin Scorsese didn't drive around with the bodies of GOODFELLAS haters in the trunk of his car, so why would someone behind some of the steamingest piles of cinematic feces have the nerve to threaten viewers? Just be glad you suckered another one, you fucking prick.
As for the movie itself, you're better off sticking with the Snob's review, which can visually illustrate just how appallingly horrid BLOOD OF GHASTLY HORROR truly is. I was too busy searching for something to thrust into my eye sockets to really pay attention, but from what I could gather it'd be a turgid, uninspired mess even if it wasn't spliced from three different movies. And while I could usually appreciate a movie that utilizes both John Carradine and THE CRAWLING HAND's Kent Taylor as mad scientists, as well as using wocka-chicka music during the zombie's climactic scene, I never got the chance to do so here, as I was bored to the point of near-insanity.
GHASTLY ain't the half of it.