VHS SUMMER

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY THIRTY-ONE: PHANTASM (EMBASSY HOME ENTERTAINMENT - 1979)

2011-10-31T11:50:00.000-07:00

This movie is pretty much the ultimate male fantasy. Think about it. Your parents die and leave you a house full of guns. Nobody's around to nag you, so you don't have to go to school or work. All there is to do is just drink beer and work on your Hemicuda all day until Reggie the ice cream man shows up with his guitar so you can sing sweet jams on your porch. Fucking A.

I will be watching this one tonight while giving children cavities.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY THIRTY: CEMETERY MAN (FOX HOME ENTERTAINMENT - 1994)

2011-10-31T07:35:00.000-07:00

I don't know how the hell I managed this, but I still own the shitty VHS dub of this movie some dude in Chicago made for me off the Japanese LaserDisc release.

I remember when I first received this tape in the mail I was pretty reluctant to give it a chance. The guy who'd sent it to me was huge into spaghetti horror, much of which I have an aversion toward. Argento in particular is a guy I just don't really care for. That's a sin in certain circles, I know. I like SOME of his films, but the majority of them just don't seem very well thought out in terms of their script or plot. A movie like "Inferno" for instance is a complete visual feast. It's beautifully photographed and the production design is incredible. But other than that, what the fuck is going on? They look neat, but for the most part a lot of his films just bore the shit out of me. So, when my friend raved about any new Italian junk, I usually just humored him without actually checking the film out. I think the only reason I even bothered to give this one a chance was that I had seen Michele Soavi's previous effort "The Church," which I thought was impressive.

Within the first few minutes of "Dellamorte Dellamore," I realized what I was seeing was a very different sort of film. Sure, it was beautifully photographed, the production design looked great, and the effects were cool, but the film's overall attitude seemed a lot more ambitious than simply making the viewer nervous or queasy. This movie explores an entirely different kind of anxiety.

The story's central character, Franceso Dellamorte, is a complex one. Working as the caretaker of a small town cemetery, Dellamorte has found himself in the midst of an apparent epidemic of walking dead. However, this element of the story is played for satire as Dellamorte struggles with bureaucratic red tape when reporting the zombies. While it's often labeled a zombie film, the actual zombie component is more like a background wraparound segment for an anthology of stories about Dellamorte's struggles to maintain normal relationships while also growing increasingly dissatisfied with his lot in life. While this is more of an angsty human drama about our own insignificance in the scheme of things, there's still more than enough grim imagery, big fake titties, and bloody action to keep the average horror fan entertained. If Russ Meyer had done a zombie film, this might be what it would have been like in terms of substance. Totally jaded yet erotic.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY-NINE: POSSESSION (VESTRON VIDEO - 1989)

2011-10-31T07:32:00.001-07:00

Obscure at this point, but once seen it's not easy to forget. A genuinely unsettling and unconventional horror film that everyone needs to experience at some point. SEE IT!

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: WHEN A STRANGER CALLS (COLUMBIA TRISTAR HOME VIDEO - 1979)

2011-10-31T06:48:00.000-07:00

The first twenty minutes of this film are so powerful that the rest of the film is almost negligible by comparison. I've shown this film to numerous people over the years, and they almost always sort of lose interest after the prologue with Carol Kane as the babysitter in peril. Still, "When A Stranger Calls" is still a decent movie as a whole, but the height of tension we experience initially never quite peaks again, leaving the affair feeling kind of lopsided.

The infamous re-enactment of the urban myth which features a babysitter being harassed by eerie phone calls was initially shot as a stand-alone short film. Director Fred Walton received such positive responses for it that he decided to use the short to secure financing for the feature. What you see at the beginning is essentially the original short, with everything else just sort of tacked on. Still, the evolution of the Jill character as a woman who becomes stronger after her terrifying experience was refreshing even by today's standards.

Here's a teaser - format look familiar to you?

There was a sequel, "When A Stranger Calls Back," once again reuniting director Walton with Charles Durning and Carol Kane, but there's no moment that holds the same effectiveness as anything we see in the original film unfortunately. Still, it's enjoyable on some level to watch the John Clifford and Jill Johnson characters up against another adversary who recalls the bad guy from the original to some extent. That's probably the sequel's biggest set back. He's also a ventriloquist and performance artist who manipulates the senses of his victims, which is far more corny than it is actually frightening. It's better than your average straight-to-cable thriller from that period and worth seeing if you're a fan of the original film.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: STREET TRASH (LIGHTNING VIDEO - 1986)

2011-10-30T09:52:00.000-07:00

So, yeah, I'm a few days behind. This should be entry 27, and I'm only making it on the 30th of October. I have long stood firm by my credo, "fuck salad," and my latest absence completely supports my previous beliefs. Earlier this week, I decided to start eating healthier in anticipation of rich bounty of holiday gluttony on the horizon. So, I went to the store, picked up some lettuce, and made myself a salad. Three days and twelve pounds later, I find out HEB (our regional grocery story here in Central Texas) had their lettuce recalled due to a salmonella outbreak. That's what I get for trying to be sensible. Anyway, I'll do my best to catch up.

Somewhat inspired by the struggle with my own violent bodily functions over, today's selection is the phenomenal "Street Trash." Zack Carlson, author of "Destroy All Movies," has aptly described this as being the ultimate Troma movie if Troma actually had their shit together. It's chaotic and huge but without ever calling itself out on its own cheapness. A lot of attempts at camp generally turn into a celebration of ineptitude, where the makers not only point out the figurative wires holding up the UFO but go out of their way to make SURE you see them. This film doesn't celebrate its own cheapness at all. While believably made for very little, it goes out of its way to stretch the parameters of its own womb without either snapping it or making visible protest about the narrow constraints.

The film's central characters are a bunch of foul urchins, or street trash, who've taken up residence in a junkyard. One adolescent bum seems to be developing a romance with the wrecking yard's bleeding heart secretary, which is really the closest thing to a true plot this thing has. The weirdest element is the prominent subplot involving a lethal brand of liquor called Viper which turns hobo bowels inside out in spectacular fashion. It's definitely the most memorable part of the movie, but does virtually nothing to really move the story forward, nor does it really impact any of the characters who matter. It's always outside of our periphery as a threat, though.

Director J. Michael Muro basically does here what a lot of total miscreant losers wish they could with their hyper-violent gross-out affairs, in that he manages to be as wretched as humanly possible without making a film that will make you sick. What you see is repulsive, though it rarely repulses you or makes you want to turn away. After all, if a tree falls in the woods and no one's around to hear it, then who gives a fuck, really? Here, Muro goes for the gullet but without ever crossing the edge that might turn people off or away. He uses both restraint as well as humor at inopportune points to create the most watchable fucked up movie ever made. It's also probably the dirtiest looking movie since the likes of "Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia."

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY-SIX: THE FIRST POWER/SHOCKER (1990/1989)

2011-10-26T16:21:00.000-07:00

Today I've selected two films with remarkably similar themes. Nutso serial killer gets apprehended, executed, and comes back more powerful than ever before thanks to a Satanic pact.

I saw "The First Power" during its original theatrical run and I absolutely loved it. I won't test any limbs by calling it amazing or anything, but it's definitely likable and merits repeated drunken viewings. The plot is pretty simple: Lou Diamond Phillips nabs a psychotic Night Stalker-style serial murderer who exits the gas chamber in a far more powerful form. The extent of the killer's powers are never fully revealed or explained, but it's fun watching La Bamba chase a super human satanist around LA. Fine-ass Tracy Griffith also plays Phillips' psychic side kick during the second half of the film. The next year Phillips followed up with a very underrated psychological horror film, "Ambition" - a must-see for fans of Clancy Brown. I recommend the two as a double feature.

I suspect that Wes Craven's "Shocker" was likely spawned from the remnants of his "A Nightmare On Elm Street 4" script, which apparently contained a time traveling through dreams theme. Nightmare producer Robert Shaye rejected the concept because he thinks you and I are too stupid to grasp something so convoluted. That's not a lie, either. Shaye apparently considered his audience too low brow to really appreciate a sequel of actual substance. What a dick.

Here lovable mush mouth Peter Berg stars as Jonathan Parker, a man plagued by realistic dreams of a killer terrorizing his small town. When the killer finally strikes too close to home, Parker uses his dream power to nab killer Horace Pinker - a suitable villain in the Freddy mold, gleefully portrayed by the fantastic Mitch Pileggi.

Horace's execution by electric chair doesn't exactly go off without a hitch. In fact, shortly after his death, it would appear that Horace is back and leaping from body to body to carry on his murderous activities.

Not sure why we never got a sequel, as Horace is an absolutely entertaining character that I am sure many would have loved to have seen return. At any rate, this is a far better film than that candy colored "Nightmare 4" piece of crap that ultimately wound up getting made.

Check out the wicked MCA logo at the beginning of this trailer! It should have been permanent!

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY-FIVE: THE UNHOLY (VESTRON VIDEO - 1988)

2011-10-26T16:04:00.000-07:00

Not a widely revered film, but I remember going to see this several times during the course of its run because I was so impressed by both the ample doses of mood, gore, and eroticism. I was also a huge fan of Ben Cross, who starred in one of the first films I was ever taken to the theater to see, "Chariots of Fire." In fact, the cast is very solid, also featuring Ned Beatty, Hal Holbrook, and Trevor Howard. Not sure why this film has never found more of an audience, but it left a strong impact on me and is one of those movies that made the year 1988 such a strong one for horror.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY-FOUR: BRAIN DAMAGE (PARAMOUNT - 1988)

2011-10-25T07:29:00.000-07:00

There are many janky flicks that promise log jams down the soupy canals of psychedelia, but Frank Henenlotter's "Brain Damage" is one of the few that actually feels like it was conceived on drugs. Brian is your average, dead-end dope who routinely gets his nuts treated like a door mat by his bitch girlfriend. But all that changes when he shacks up with a parasitic creature known simply as Aylmer. Not that the reality of his situation changes, but rather Aylmer has something that just makes Brian's life easier. Both have needs, and together they fulfill them. Aylmer requires a steady diet of brains. Meanwhile, Brian's life is a total bummer and he is in desperate need of an escape. Naturally, Brian provides henchman like services so that Aylmer can feed. In return, Aylmer hooks Brian up with a sweet and highly addictive narcotic that makes all the bullshit not matter. Really, in much the same tradition of Henenlotter's fantastic "Basket Case," this is a buddy picture. In fact, the artistically versatile Kevin Van Hentenryck even makes a brief cameo as Duane Bradley at one point. Truly, this is a film for all holidays. See it. Study it. Obey it.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY-THREE: THE CAR (ANCHOR BAY - 1977)

2011-10-24T09:41:00.000-07:00

I was up at the crack of dawn yesterday and didn't get home until past midnight, so technically I did miss a day. In my head, two posts in one day will be a sufficient act of contrition.

This movie has a lot of illogical and unintentionally hilarious moments, but "The Car" has haunted me since childhood, and I absolutely love it. I think it also probably planted the seed which spawned my mighty hatred for cyclists. Every time I see some Lance Armstrong dickhead riding in the middle of a lane, just struggling to keep up and creating a traffic jam, I hear the far off call of the Car's horn from this movie.

The plot is ridiculously simple: a car that is seemingly possessed terrorizes a town's roads by heroically running over losers. That's about it. Everything bends to suit the concept, so at times the movie feels dream like. There is one amazing sequence when the car is stalking a woman who runs into her house to dial the police. The car then RAMPS through her house, killing her, and bursts through the back, landing on another road... as if the house were somehow constructed in the middle of a highway or something. Completely bizarre and hilarious. But still, it's effective and really fun. Trespasses forgiven.

People always ask me if I could remake a movie, what would it be. The idea of remakes is always kind of pointless to me unless you're going to actually improve on something. While I think this movie works overall, I always say I would remake this movie simply so that I could film the book's finale as written in the movie's novelization.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY-TWO: THE LEGEND OF BOGGY CREEK

2011-10-22T13:55:00.000-07:00

Super short on time today, so I'll have to keep this brief. I'm a big fan of Charles B. Pierce, and in fact I believe him to be one of the most distinct American directors of all time. I was probably five the first time I saw "The Legend of Boggy Creek," and I was genuinely creeped out by it at the time. Several decades later, and I still remain fond toward this little film even though I view it as being purely campy now. The film is sort of a pseudo-documentary about a Bigfoot-like creature in Fouke, Arkansas. Presenting its case for the existence of the monster through a mixture of documentary footage and dramatizations, this movie undoubtedly had a profound impact on television, and probably inspired the Leonard Nimoy narrated "In Search Of..." program as well as "Unsolved Mysteries."

Two crumby but fun sequels followed.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY-ONE: 976-EVIL (RCA HOME VIDEO - 1988)

2011-10-21T17:25:00.000-07:00

So, this is what Stephen Geoffreys did instead of reprising the beloved Evil Ed role for "Fright Night 2." Even though I really love this movie, I'm still not sure it was the right career decision. Some of you may or may not know that Geoffreys later went on to star in a number of gay pornographic films, and I've also heard numerous stories regarding drug problems which probably helped propel his downward spiral. I'm no authority on the guy's life, but part of me believes that the Ed character had become iconic enough even at that point to have sustained a legitimate career through a potential franchise. I also think that a lot of people really WANTED to see Ed come back for the sequel, and the majority of fans were put off by his lack of involvement. I can't for certain say what would have been, but I can't help but think that both the "Fright Night" sequel AND Stephen Geoffreys would have been better off together. Nevertheless, I really appreciate Geoffreys' desire to work with Robert Englund, who directed this film. Geoffreys has stated that this was his primary motivation for wanting to do this film. I often get the impression that very few actors who work within this genre are actually excited about it, so this is a refreshing piece of trivia that makes me love Geoffreys even more.

The film follows a bullied nerd Hoax (Geoffreys) who develops a Faustian relationship with a voice on the other end of a 976 number. Hoax's frustration builds as he's rejected by his cousin and idol Spike, embarrassed in front of his crush by the creeps who routinely shove his head in the toilet, and berated by his fundamentalist nut of a mother. Vulnerable and isolated, Hoax grows more dependent upon a 976 "horrorscope" number, which helps him enact his revenge against his abusers. But vengeance has a price, and soon Hoax finds himself a host to a higher power. The plot is similar in nature to the 1986 film "Trick Or Treat," except here our protagonist winds up too far down the rabbit hole to turn back.

Geoffreys is a genuinely unique actor and the real treat here. Not only is he legitimately funny at times, but he manages to seem both sympathetic and lovable while maintaining this weird brown bag pervert aura. He's creepy and yet completely lovable at the same time, and I honestly don't think any actor has ever been able to accomplish something like that. Even once he's made his transformation you still feel a certain sadness for the character. You want him to be okay even though he's made some horrible decisions and been totally corrupted by power. He still manages to let a little bit of the Hoax you love shine through the hideous cracks. Geoffreys is a one-of-a-kind who deserves praise for and recognition for his main stream work. It's a shame things didn't turn out differently.

Beyond several great performances, the overall mood, production design, and photography are distinctly strong for a film of this scale. This was an admirable directorial debut, and leaves me to wonder why Englund didn't do more, as he proved to be far more capable than many of the other directors he's worked with over the years.

Douchebag Cousin Spike returns for a bullshit sequel that's hardly worth seeing. A lot of people who peruse my collection are often surprised to see this title and request to watch it out of an affinity toward the original. While I do possess this tape, I will never in good conscience allow it to be screened. Seriously, it would take a keg to impair my judgement on the matter.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWENTY: THE BROOD (NELSON ENTERTAINMENT - 1979)

2011-10-20T07:32:00.000-07:00

I would lament to count the numerous occasions where some dipshit with an ironic mustache has ambled up to me at a bar and said, "so, I hear you like movies. I like Lynch and Cronenberg." And then when I ask if they've seen "The Brood" they furrow their brow and say, "no, who did that one?"

Cronenberg is a name that a lot of hipster cinema twerps have latched onto because it has cult value. Few of these people have actually seen anything he's done outside of "Videodrome," though, and they probably only saw that because James Woods name-dropped it on "Family Guy" or some bullshit. I can't stand these Romulan assholes.

I can't really go too in depth with respect to this film's plot without ruining it. This is a ride that unfolds as it goes along. I can tell you this much: like all good horror, it's powered by the vein of satire. Most likely conceived of at the height of new ageism and self help philosophy, the story focuses on the dangers of modern guru type characters and just how harmful their tampering can be. Basically, it's a big middle finger to that whole fad, portraying it as actually being unintentionally hilarious at times. The film stars Oliver Reed -- always the ear mark of quality and intensity.

My advice, see it, but go in fresh. Avoid reading anything extensive about it. The payoff will be well worth it. Truly a great horror film.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY NINETEEN: THE BEYOND (ANCHOR BAY - 1981)

2011-10-19T18:25:00.000-07:00

People are generally surprised when I tell them that I am not a huge fan of gore. It's not that I'm squeamish, but typically the gratuity of the blood and guts you see in a lot of Italian horror bores the hell out of me. I've always preferred films that work hard to achieve an overall vibe over gross out moments. While Lucio Fulci's "The Beyond" has its fair share of visceral moments, it's absolutely one of the most outstanding mood pieces of all time. While some folks are timid about approaching Fulci's work out of consideration for their gag reflex, I will wholeheartedly recommend this experience. Gross at times, yes, but overall, this is a stunning movie.

Today's entry is by Matt Clark of Chicago indie label Tic Tac Totally records. We typically butt heads on what constitutes good, but this is one we can completely agree on.

There's good reason Lucio Fulci's "The Beyond" garners almost unanimous high praise. As an "Italian Horror" entry, it pretty much summarizes everything to be loved about this sub-genre. You have the trademark Fulci atmospheric tension, heavy-handed visuals and stylistic gore. But "The Beyond" moves… yes… beyond those wonderful but easy trappings. While Dario Argento (as much as I love him) was focusing pretty much solely on producing vivid color schemes and impressive set pieces for "Inferno," Fulci's 1981 masterpiece "The Beyond" conjures that same lucid delirium, that same atmospheric world that's so fucking thick you can drill into it, WITHOUT sacrificing a good story or character development. This is one of the keystone films in "Italian Horror" that encompasses the best of both schools. Standing on a set of legs owed to its "art film" looks, there is also an enveloping world within it which induces deep psychological terror and spiritual vertigo. Fulci's patent hell ultimately fries the mind's eye by blending time, space, the real, and the unreal together.

Fulci-fave Katherine MacColl stars in the female lead (which plays similarly to her role in Fulci's other supernatural thriller about a house, "The House By the Cemetery") as Liza Merril, who inherits a run down Louisiana hotel, which of course she aims to renovate. However, the hotel sits on one of the seven gates of hell (unbeknownst to Liza at this point). As she begins restoration on the property, an imminent crescendo of hauntings begin to swell from the simple, unexplained buzzer to full blown zombie infestation. All done with hardly a seam showing in it's fabric, and fully transferring you, as viewer, into Fulci's unreality. I'm telling you, the man is a fucking artist. This film in fact draws the best of all of Fulci's work together both stylistically and thematically. It's filled with the atmospheric tension and colored drama of "City of the Living Dead," it has the psychedelics of "Lizard In A Woman's Skin," and the surface of the story cops (but easily trumps!) "The House By the Cemetery." There are also wonderful bits of gore, and an interesting recurrence of the "salem witch revenge" theme, which was also explored in "City of the Living Dead" (film opens with townsfolk cornering and murdering a "warlock" who tries to warn them of the house's powers…of course things go south from there!).

Liza and Dr. John McCabe (David Warbeck) ultimately end up thoroughly transplanted into an unknown world. The whole nightmarish opus unfolds like a Matryoshka doll. You can clearly see why he thought of this as an "art" film. He presents a microcosm that ultimately fucks up space, time, and everything else "motion pictures" are made of. The end of the film is often cited as typical Lucio Fulci confusion and/or a disjointed mess of an ending, but I would totally disagree. Its ending is embedded in it's beginning. It comes full circle, albeit in a fully unpleasant way! All in all, I think it's really a beautiful vision, and leaves you with a lot to think about. Certainly at the very least Fulci gives us an alternative vision of hell to ponder and draws on powerful and original imagery. Fully recommended viewing by almost anyone you'll encounter and one of the director's finest. If you haven't checked this out, you're missing a real ruby here. Get on it.

Trailer courtesy The Ramis.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY EIGHTEEN: THE MUMMY'S SHROUD (ANCHOR BAY - 1971)/FRANKENSTEIN CREATED WOMAN (ANCHOR BAY - 1967)

2011-10-18T17:17:00.000-07:00

Today's entry wipes out an entire nest with one stone. With both "The Mummy's Shroud" and "Frankenstein Created Woman" I get my Hammer flick out of the way, but I also get a mummy flick AND a Frankenstein flick in there, too.

"Frankenstein Created Woman" is one of the better sequels within the Hammer Frankenstein franchise. The doctor is once again up to his strange experimentation, and this time he's playing around with soul transference. I might be off on my recollection of the plot, but I remember Frankenstein's lab assistant being framed for a murder and then being executed. The disfigured daughter of the murder victim is also in love with the lab assistant, and winds up drowning herself out of grief. Frankenstein manages to bring her back to life, but additionally he fixes her face and puts her lover's soul in her body. So, once revived, not only if she fine as hell, but she has the raging soul of her boyfriend in her ribcage, and he's craving vengeance against the upper crust dickheads who got him beheaded.

Interestingly, I had read numerous times that Playboy Playmate Susan Denberg, the woman who plays this film's "monster," had committed suicide. Apparently this is only a myth. I don't mean to sound like a morbid prick, but the knowledge that Denberg would go on to kill herself after playing a character that took her own life always gave this film a much darker feel. From her IMDb page:

After becoming immersed in the 60s high life of drugs and sex, Denberg left show business and returned to Austria. News interviews at the time show a depressed Denberg in the company of her mother, at home in Klagenfurt. These news items, repeated in fan periodicals for years, gave the impression Denberg was suicidal or had already died. Actually, she is still alive.

Either way, bitch was fine in this movie. Most probably best remember her as one of Mudd's girls on the original Star Trek. As for "The Mummy's Shroud,"I've always been intrigued by the mummy concept, and I'm a little surprise no one's done an update outside of that recent awful Universal franchise. Now a days, zombies sprint like they got breaded in angel dust. Can't we get a pissed off Pharaoh with a spring in his step? The idea of a running mummy kind of scares the shit out of me. I don't have much else to say other than I always thought that the mummy design in this particular movie was awesome looking. Otherwise, it's pretty standard fair, but nevertheless done well.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY SEVENTEEN: WARLOCK (VIDMARK - 1989)

2011-10-17T09:09:00.000-07:00

I love this movie so much that I even shelled out a ridiculous amount of money for the horrible tie-in game for Sega Genesis. Bet ya didn't know there was a "Warlock" game for Genesis, did ya? Well, very few people did. But rest assured it wasn't very good.

This is yet another fish-out-of-water horror flick, featuring a Warlock who barely escapes his public burning via time travel porthole which hurls him three hundred years into the future. Unfortunately, Redfern, the daring and gamy witch hunter, leaps into the mystical maelstrom after him. Once the Warlock lands in modern day Los Angeles, he receives orders from a possessed Mary Woronov to assemble the Devil's grimoire, which has been broken up into several individual pieces. The completed book contains the true name of god, and if uttered backward will undo all of god's creation. While this movie definitely rules, I always thought that was the dumbest shit ever, unless Satan himself is a suicidal numb skull who just wants to end it all. At any rate, modern girl Lori Singer (Footloose) winds up being hexed after a brush with the Warlock, which makes her age very quickly. The curse is called REALITY. This forces her to team up with Redfern to hunt down the Warlock so she can be restored.

Bottom line, this movie is all about Julian Sands. The guy is value added to whatever piece of shit he happens to be in. He doesn't always necessarily save the movies he's in, but anytime he's on screen it's always going to be automatically watchable. Sands is truly an underrated modern great. Someone needs to dust this guy off.

They made two sequels, both of which bummed me out.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY SIXTEEN: IT! (WARNER HOME VIDEO - 1966)

2011-10-16T06:59:00.000-07:00

I'm actually there haven't been any recent films based on the Golem myth. Though now that I've said this I'm sure one will be announced any day now, because I am just that paranoid and arrogant. This particular movie was shot in 1966, and it makes the most of a contemporary setting. This is almost a fish-out-of-water horror flick, and there simply aren't enough genre films styled after "Encino Man" if you ask me. Seriously though, can't someone do a decent budget film where a Golem protects a deli from Neo Nazis in a shitty neighborhood?

In "It!," the irresistible Roddy McDowall plays the conflicted Arthur Pimm, who finds himself in control of an ancient, indestructible statue of mystical Jewish origin. Pimm is initially a somewhat awkward and likable character, but once bestowed with control over the incredibly powerful Golem he starts to lose it a little. This is a surprisingly well made film from Herbert Leder, the man behind such films as "The Frozen Dead," "The Candy Man," and the ball-crushingly terrible "Doomsday Machine." Not sure what happened here, but this is much better than any of his other efforts. This is a well-shot, character-driven British horror flick with ample mod flavor that compels from start to finish. Well worth your time.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY FIFTEEN: THE EXORCIST III (WARNER HOME VIDEO - 1990)

2011-10-15T13:15:00.000-07:00

Not only is "The Exorcist III" one of my favorite horror films of all time, but I also happen to think it's far better than the original film. While it's not perfect, the moments that do work are so profoundly good that it's easy to forgive all the elements the studio stupidly shoe-horned into the final cut.

The story takes place many years after father Damien Karras took that fatal tumble down that iconic stairwell following the exorcism of Regan MacNeil. Karras's old friend Detective Kinderman, played by the phenomenal George C Scott, is the central character of this sequel. The basic plot follows Kinderman as he investigates a series of familiar serial murders which suggest that the Gemini Killer is back on the streets. However, Kinderman actually made sure the creep was dead seventeen years ago. At the same time, a patient at the local sanitarium has awoken from his vegetative state with details pertaining to the killings and demands to see Kinderman. Once in Patient X's company, the detective can't help but notice that he not only resembles the original Gemini Killer, but he also at times reminds him of his friend Father Karras.

It is no great secret that it is Brad Dourif who absolutely steals the show with his intense performance as Patient X, the man at the center of all the grizzly goings on. Initially, it was solely Brad Dourif in the role, but at the oppressive whim of the studio, scenes of Jason Miller as the Patient X character were shot in order to provide a more obvious connection to the original film. Given the actual story line and Patient X's true identity, it actually wasn't a bad idea. Unfortunately, a lot of the other changes didn't exactly help the film.

Primarily, Blatty wanted to use the "Legion" title for the film. He made many attempts to keep them from using the numeral III, mainly because he wanted to distance the picture from the abominable "Exorcist II." The studio was insistent upon the use of "Exorcist" in the title, which Blatty eventually had to relent on. Unfortunately, it provided one significant problem: the movie originally contained no exorcism. So, of course, the studio blew a bunch of money on additional scenes which built up to an exorcism. Strangely, the original story has Patient X simply dying in his sleep as I recall, which would seem anti climatic. However, I think the studio's fix is way more of a let down. It's a total crown of cheese atop an otherwise dignified brow. Beyond that, if you want to be anal about the argument, the movie was titled "The Exorcist," and considering the presence of the Karras character to some extent, they actually DID have an exorcist in the film.

Despite the tampering, this movie is otherwise brimming with atmosphere, snappy dialog, electrifying performances, and also features Patrick Ewing and Fabio as angels!

A bunch of stupid assholes have forbade embedding on their "Exorcist III" trailers on youtube, though they have no formal affiliation with the production. However, I did find this excellent teaser that was never used which features an awesome logo for the movie. Thanks to DarenDoc.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY FOURTEEN: "THE SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE" TRILOGY (1982 - 1990)

2011-10-14T08:14:00.000-07:00

Today's entry is going to have to be short and sweet. I got hit by a pile of work. To make up for it in my brain I figured I'd do a triple-shot on "The Slumber Party Massacre" trilogy.

The original "Slumber Party Massacre" is a lot more complex than most might give it credit for being. It was written as a total satire, but shot like a straight horror film. It has quite a few feminist nods throughout, and it's a funny film, but still a very effective mood piece at the same time. Altogether, it's a super fun movie that most people overlook as cliche'd drek. It's actually far better than most films of this nature though. Also has a GREAT score and Brinke Stevens!

Written and directed by Deborah Brock, "Slumber Party Massacre II" is a direct sequel to the original film, featuring the sibling of one of the first film's make characters. It's also completely fucking insane. It's hard to extract exactly what's going on here, but it's an incredibly fun ride. Some all-girl band gets together in a suburban house, with the sister of one of the survivors of the first film among them. Eventually, a leather-clad Ricky Nelson type killer toting a sick guitar with a drill bit powered by shredding emerges to terrorize and bump the girls off in typical slasher fashion. We sort of get the impression that the killer is a figment of the main character's imagination, and yet he seems to do real harm. It's utterly nonsensical, but completely unforgettable at the same time. The trailer makes the film seem much cornier than it actually is.

I own a copy of "Slumber Party Massacre III", though I have never actually seen it. Sacrilege, I know. This doesn't appear to have any formal connection to the other two films. In fact, it appears to be something of a remake of the first film. I've heard mostly positive things about this movie. One of the coolest things about this production is that it continues the trend of featuring script and direction by women.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY THIRTEEN: CHILDREN SHOULDN'T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS (VCI - 1973)

2011-10-13T06:42:00.000-07:00

I once spent over two hours talking about this movie with Rob Zombie in a Los Angeles hotel when I was 15. True story.

If you're paying attention, you realize at this point that I will allow a great deal of amnesty toward a movie for low production value if they somehow manage to evoke an atmosphere with whatever ingredients they've been afforded. Bob Clark's "Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things" was made for a meager 70k, which would prove an agonizing task for most. Part of me thinks if this film had any more money than it did though, it might not be what it is. Sometimes, I think cheapness lends a grit that can help movies of this nature feel more effective. They also tend to feel more spirited. I think it's mainly because the people involved sure as hell aren't there for the paycheck. They're doing it because they're passionate about the project, and that really shines through. It's what truly gives something a soul and probably explains why low budget films garner cult followers.

This is probably one of my favorite zombie films, and in fact when I think of zombies, the image of lead corpse Orville is what comes to mind. The situation is familiar, but it is the characters - a bunch of eccentric college thespian types - who keep it fresh.

So, a bunch of pretentious theater assholes land on a rustic island replete with cemetery where they throw some Warholian rehearsal party, resulting in sacrilege and desecration. They also dig up a body, too. They tow the body back to the house where they're all staying, name it Orville, and proceed to have a party for it, which yields some pretty evocative imagery that should hang with you for a while. It's not so much gruesome as it is morbid. Eventually, the dead have had enough disgrace and rise from the earth to seek retribution against their trespassers.

It's pretty typical stuff, but like I said, the characters are fantastic and seldom likable, and the filmmakers manage to develop enough sympathy for Orville that you're really cheering for him once he's gunning for the living characters, who seem more like antagonists as they abuse and degrade the dead. In fact, they all pretty much have what's coming to them. Not in the sense that the characters are so one-dimensional and stupid that you want the guy with the axe to just get them off your screen. In fact, the characters are all very well written and acted, with one of the supreme highlights being Alan Ormsby's (also the film's writer) performance as the leader of the asshole pack. While this film has been routinely assailed for its bad acting and writing, these detractors are completely missing the satire of it all. The characters in this film aren't actually meant to be taken seriously as victims. In fact, they are a contemptuous skewering of the high brow "art fags" one routinely encounters in the world of art. These people take themselves way too seriously to respect anybody who isn't them, so there is definitely a great deal of satisfaction taken by the filmmakers in ripping them limb from limb.

The film was directed by Bob Clark, who also gave us "Black Christmas," the first two "Porky's," films, as well as "A Christmas Story." Check out the trailer, courtesy some asshole with no taste.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWELVE: THOU SHALT NOT KILL... EXCEPT (STARMAKERS -1985)

2011-10-12T07:11:00.000-07:00

I first learned about this movie while watching an episode of Jonathan Ross's "Incredibly Strange Film Show," which profiled the career of Sam Raimi. It's actually not a Raimi film, though he stars in it as the rotten toothed leader of a hippie death cult that's marauding a backwoods country side. It was years before I found a VHS copy of this movie, and a little longer before I watched it. Frankly, I only bought it because it had Raimi in the role of the villain. I was skeptical going in, but within mere minutes I was fuckin blown away. I'm not gonna lie to you good people, shoe string would be far too generous a descriptor when it comes to production value. But never mind the scant budget, "Thou Shalt Not Kill... Except" is a wildly entertaining film, and a testament to director Josh Becker's ingenuity. Filmmakers routinely fail in spite of having millions of dollars in their pockets on a regular basis. Still, to succeed with a remarkable budget has never impressed me as much as someone who succeeds with nothing. Becker has eternally earned my respect with this particular movie.

After Jack Stryker gets turned gimp by a Vietcong bullet, he returns to his rural home to resume his life and the romance he'd been drafted away from. In the background, the country side has been seized by a nihilistic, Manson-esque cult of hippies on a thrill kill spree. At the same time, Stryker's old army buddies are on their way for a surprise visit. Eventually, these extensions of the establishment collide with the counter culture spree killers in a wildly entertaining finale that truly explores the concept of insult to injury.

Stryker's war buddies and their relationships with one another are both dynamic and realistic for this type of film. In fact, they are not straight good guys, but rather shades of grey. The horrors of war have warped them into complete degenerates who could never possibly be model citizens. In fact, if this were a different sort of film they could very well wind up being the villains. However, Becker has actually given the returning heroes a real threat to dismember: flower children.

The characters, their relationships, and the politics of the situation elevate it beyond its budgetary constraints to make for a compelling film, intellectually. Yeah, I said it, this is actually a very smart film. Its wit is only augmented by the satisfying wave of violence it builds toward. As I said, this is really a study of insult to injury, and it's so gratifying. Not only do people get mauled, but each death is punctuated with a violent icing that's almost hilarious because it is so excessive. Seriously, I could probably write several chapters on how profound and amazing this movie is, but really, you just need to treat yourself to this viewing experience. Find a VHS copy, or order it directly from Becker's site. You'd probably be better just ordering the DVD unless you can find a Prism copy though, as the Starmakers release is pretty rough.

Trailer courtesy DeaditeVideos.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY ELEVEN: FRIGHT NIGHT (RCA HOME VIDEO - 1985)

2011-10-11T06:49:00.000-07:00

Considering the phenomenal success of the "Twilight" franchise, I understand why this film got remade. In fact, the idea of a "Fright Night" remake had been floating around for some time. Several years ago, I groaned when I was told that the remake script had something to do with teens stranded in a carnival funhouse fighting vampires. Thank god that never came to fruition. There was even some rumbling that Sony was going to produce a "Fright Night" TV show closely patterned after the two original films. There was hope of striking gold with a "Buffy" for boys. But once again, there were some key elements in the way. And then the 2011 remake got off the ground. Like always, the people behind this "re-imagining" just didn't have a keen understanding of their source material's bones. While the original movie stands as an effective horror film, there are numerous tribunal nods which pay tribute to vampire cinema. It is a smart and well-studied homage. The film's antagonist Jerry Dandrige is shades of Barnabas Collins, having just recently surfaced in a run down Victorian home just next door. And much like Collins had a Cerberus-like familiar in Willie Loomis, Dandrige has Billy Cole. Then there is Peter Vincent, whose name and character are both an amalgam of horror stars Peter Cushing and Vincent Price. Our hero, the horror film obsessed Charley Brewster, played by William Ragsdale, even bare resemblance to Roman Polanski's bumbling, love-struck Alfred from "The Fearless Vampire Killers." Brewster's best friend Evil Ed even falls into the Renfield role. There are numerous other references to the cinema of the blood sucker, which is a tremendous part of this movies appeal. Probably 98% of the original "Fright Night"'s purpose was lost on the producers of the remake, so what they wound up with was a very shallow and direct retelling of the original film with some pointless alterations that add nothing to the proceedings. They do go to the trouble of retaining the actual "Fright Night" title font, because they want to assure people that there is some connection to the original film. However, what Hollywood continually fails to realize is that the original film's cult following sees these re-imaginings as entirely blasphemous. The very concept of a remake alienates the core fanbase because it is seen as tampering with something that is nearly perfect to begin with. And if you're going to go to such extreme lengths to maintain the identity of the original films, why not just make a sequel? Seriously, they couldn't just trot out Ragsdale as a dad and pit his kid up against a similar threat?

At any rate, this film has actually aged remarkably well, though I have seen some people call it dated. Not exactly sure why or how. Some people say it's corny, but a lot of it is intended to be sort of campy as it is largely a tribute to an era of horror that was bygone at that point. Besides, it has Sparks on the soundtrack, so it automatically wins forever.

The plot: Charley Brewster suspects his neighbor Jerry Dandrige is up to no good when he recognizes the photo of a murdered prostitute on a local news report as the woman he saw next door. So, naturally Charley gets nosy and while spying discovers his neighbor is actually an unholy bloodsucker. Interestingly, Dandrige initially tries to reason with the teen, but Charley is far too terrified to consider his proposal. Naturally, this leaves Dandrige with only one choice: to silence Charley forever. The story's great twist occurs when Charley approaches Peter Vincent, a washed-up horror star who hosts the late night television show "Fright Night," which incidentally has just been canceled due to the declining interest in more traditional horror. Vincent utters a great line about how the new generation prefers killers in ski masks hacking up young virgins. But not Charley. Charley believes in vampires. In fact, there's one living next door to him, and he needs Vincent's help to kill him. Charley comes off as pretty delusional, which scares Vincent away. Charley's friends, Amy and Evil Ed grow more concerned that he's experiencing some sort of break down, and so they approach the destitute Vincent with cash and arrange a fake test where Vincent will prove that Dandrige is not a vampire in front of Charley. Unfortunately, things don't go quite like they planned, and soon Charley and his friends are running for their lives.

Virtually everything about this movie continues to work. The script and direction by the uber-talented Tom Holland are top notch. The effects are strong. The photography in particular is beautiful. Each member of the cast is an absolute jewel to boot. Roddy McDowall as horror host Peter Vincent demonstrates a fairly wide range, from hilariously self-obsessed to terrified and eventually confident in his identity as a true vampire killer. Chris Sarandon is absolutely magnetic and likable as Dandrige. However, Stephen Geoffreys as the immortal Evil Ed might just turn in the most memorable performance of the lot.

Trailer courtesy FoundFootageHorror.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TEN: THE TOOLBOX MURDERS (VCI - 1978)

2011-10-10T07:40:00.000-07:00

I first became aware of this film via an old copy of "Kingdom of the Spiders," which contained a slew of trailers after the credits. The preview for this is absolute gold, which actually made me a little wary of seeing it. So often, I'll find great trailers for obscure horror films, then go to the effort and much cost to track it down, and then I am ultimately let down because the preview just boiled it down to the finer parts. And while "The Toolbox Murders" trailer kicks massive amounts of ass and features ample nudity and violence, and I am happy to report that all you see here is merely the tip of a monstrous iceberg.

I've seen people say some really downright stupid things about this movie. Primarily, any allusion to the fact that this is your run-of-the-mill slasher is the most fucking retarded things you will ever be told about any movie. There is absolutely nothing common about the movie. In fact, this thing verges on high art. Sure, you have a masked killer with a gimmick bumping off broads, but the elements which surround the violence make for a downright bizarre collage. In particular, the editing and the music during the bath tub masturbation scene which prefaces one of the killings is absolutely stellar.

I actually try to show this movie to as many people as I can, an I'm often met with a complete lack of enthusiasm. Once it gets rolling however, people are absolutely riveted. One of the main reasons is the incredible performance by Cameron Mitchell. Anyone who sees this film will become acutely aware of this man as an intense force. In fact, after experiencing this movie I'd go out of my way to see anything the guy did, no matter how low budget the production. Mitchell was one of those guys who, no matter how shitty the movie he was in may have been, put 200% of himself forward. Nowhere is it more apparent than in this film.

They say this was based on a true story, and I really hope it was, but I've never been able to find any evidence of that being true. Nevertheless, the story and the motivations of the characters certainly smack of something that could have been true. In all, this movie is far from typical. Yes, it's sleazy, but the moments with the younger characters actually feel like something out of an episode of the Partridge family. Anything featuring "an innocent" feels completely white washed, and the contrast between those moments and the more gruesome scenes is enjoyably jarring. The acting itself is way above par for a film of this nature. In fact, EVERYBODY in this film turns in a solid performance. This is top-to-bottom entertaining and well worth seeking out.

Tobe Hooper remade this film several years ago, and though I have yet to see it, it doesn't seem to share many similarities with the original based on what I've read. It gets high marks, but I remain skeptical.

Like I said, the trailer has nudity, so don't watch it if you work around a bunch of uptight squares.

And yeah, I know, the box isn't VCI. Eat a dick, I'm tired.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY NINE: SSSSSSS (MCA UNIVERSAL HOME VIDEO - 1973)

2011-10-09T07:37:00.000-07:00

I think one of the things that made me a horror fan was being compelled to find a film that could actually truly frighten me. Very few people's egos will permit them to admit that they've been controlled by something as trivial as a film, particularly when it comes to horror. To say you've experienced a sense of dread or fear during a horror flick is to admit that you've been controlled and manipulated. No one wants to cop to the fact that they're powerless to something. Horror is incredibly pornographic in nature, in that it provokes a response from the viewer through intense and explicit imagery. In fact, that's precisely what pornography is. It does not strictly refer to graphic depictions of sexual acts. Anything that is of an extreme nature that provokes a physical response is pornographic. News footage of some idiot getting his head lopped off by middle Eastern zealots might make some folks sick, while secretly others might be titillated. Deep down, we're all fascinated by mortality, and so each and every one of us has some interest in morbid imagery or subject matter. On some level of consciousness, each and every one of us is interested in gruesome things because they are both possible and inevitable. Horror stimulates; it quickens pulses. A genuinely thrilling film can bring about a sense of euphoria afterward that can be addicting in much the same way thrill seekers are addicted to an adrenaline rush. There's absolutely nothing sick about it. In fact, these experiences are healthy. A great horror film plays on the audience's sense of empathy toward the characters getting run through a ringer on screen. Certainly there are movies that feed their shallow protagonists to villains like Christians to lions, but GOOD horror films invest in great characterization and give you the opportunity to empathize and even occasionally experience victory over the odds.

There are mountains of garbage horror movies made by low brow delinquent types who don't understand the psychology behind this genre or what makes these films work. In fact, very few writers or directors actually "get it," and even it's even more rare when you get a pairing of the two that both do. When those elements align, though, they can create a gratifying experience. Even if it's just one moment that bothers you or jolts you a little, it's a miraculous achievement on their part.

I've been rattled and creeped out by very few films throughout my life time, but when it happens, I'll commend the effort. One of the first movies to really shake the hell out of me was "Sssssss." Granted, I first experienced this movie as a little kid, but the experience was profound enough to haunt my memory for years to come. Overall, the movie effectively weaves a mood of its own, but what really scared the shit out of me was the imagery at the end of the film when they reveal the half-man half-snake hybrid. The first time I saw that I ran out of the room. After that, I was routinely teased by my family, who'd remind me of the Dirk Benedict snake man at really inopportune times. Decades later, the movie doesn't hold the same impact that it once did, but it's still a very entertaining and well-made film. In fact, it's relatively tame but still manages to be a strong little mood piece. For parents seeking films to watch with young ones around this time of year, I would whole heartedly recommend it.

The plot is simple, and leans more toward nuclear fifties sci-fi. Benedict plays David Blake, a student who gets a job at a serpentarium, assisting a doctor who's performing radical research on snakes. Blake eventually becomes a part of the doctor's experiments when he begins receiving dubious injections which lead to some pretty severe life changes. All this is complicated by a brewing romance between Blake and the doctor's daughter. It might not unnerve you, but it is at least a fun ride. Worth seeking out.

Trailer courtesy mgoddard23.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY EIGHT: I BURY THE LIVING (GOOD TIMES HOME VIDEO - 1957)

2011-10-08T08:02:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, the easiest way to get a hold of obscure bullshit movies that weren't on local video store shelves was through bootlegger catalogs. In the back of almost any horror magazine you could find ads for vendors who, for a few bucks and a self-addressed/stamped envelope, would open your mind up to some of the sleaziest and most obscure stuff imaginable. This was actually how I discovered Scorched Earth Production, who were responsible for films such as "Even Hitler Had a Girlfriend" as well as "The Hitler Tapes." While torrents have long since replaced the whole tape trading phenomenon, not even its convenience touches what you used to be able to uncover out there. If anything, torrents really don't provide a home for obscure, depraved stuff. Very rarely will you find something amazing out there. And beyond that, there's a great deal to be said for what you derive from basic human interaction. I owe a huge part of my knowledge to the pen pals and video store jerks I associated with as a teenager. There is less a sense of community now amongst people who are into cult film than there was when I was a kid. Perhaps the internet has made people less friendly because they don't necessarily have to depend on other people to learn stuff. Now, you can do it quickly and anonymously. For instance, there are hordes of dudes doing blogs on cool, obscure film. However, there's not really a network or camaraderie between any of these people. Years ago, it seemed to me like people were more eager to know they weren't alone in their weirdo interests.

The first catalog I ever got was from a guy in Chicago who mainly bootlegged stuff on VHS from laserdiscs and specialized in Hong Kong action, Hammer films, and fucked up Italian gore. I developed a friendship with the guy, and spoke with him regularly over the phone, and I got turned onto a lot of fantastic films thanks to him. I was regularly sending in my money in exchange for decent dubs, which quickly expanded my knowledge of cult and Asian film in particular. Anyway, it was through this guy that I discovered "I Bury The Living." I still have the dub this guy made me back in the early 90s, and surprisingly it's probably better looking than the official copy I have. Or maybe that's not so surprising, considering that my legit copy is from Good Times. I remember I'd seen this film mentioned in old reference books, and it was always regarded as a quaint though obscure gem with some solid performances. After I saw it, it became one of my favorite films to dub onto the tapes I was trading with friends, and the general consensus between my friends and I was that this was a fun little film that was oozing with atmosphere. Looking up movies I love before I posted them has become an unfortunate process. I'm always curious to read what people have to say, and as usual when I looked "I Bury the Living" I saw the usual absurd barrage of complaints regarding plot holes. Someone even called the film unrealistic. I think the concept of cinema as a form of escape is lost on so many people. If your goal is to actually find a movie that is true to the tone of your ordinary life, then why even bother? Why pay twenty bucks to endure something that strives to be mundane? I can go sit on my couch and talk to my roommate for free.

No, this film is not realistic, and yes it has some very obvious problems with the plot. However, for its time and budget, it manages to achieve a ridiculous amount of mood. This movie definitely haunted feel in spite of its flaws, which is something that you can't necessarily achieve even if you have a fool proof script or a larger budget. All criticisms of this charming little production must come from people without a soul, who are therefore illiterate when it comes to perceiving spirit.

The story revolves around Robert Kraft, who has been named the new director of a cemetery. The bulk of the story revolves around a detailed map of the grounds, with all of its plots. The occupied graves an crypts are marked by black pins, while the empty graves are marked with white pens. When Kraft accidentally marks a pre-bought plot with a black pen, the owners go from living to dead. But was this just a coincidence? Kraft, who is well-played by Richard Boone, is a completely fascinating character - a rational man perturbed by the scenario. Not inclined to believe in superstition, and if it isn't a coincidence, there becomes an issue of holding the power of life and death over the people who've pre-purchased their graves. There are a few twists and turns along the way, some of which don't make total sense, but the performances, the setting, and the production are all so charming that it makes these issues both minor and completely forgivable. Well worth seeking out on a dark and stormy night.

Trailer courtesy of GrindHouseFan.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY SEVEN: IT'S ALIVE (WARNER HOME VIDEO - 1974)

2011-10-07T14:21:00.001-07:00

Honestly, a large chunk of these thirty-one entries should probably be dedicated to the films of Larry Cohen. I'm always completely floored by so much of what this guy accomplished as a writer. Not only was he prolific, but he's one of the few guys who understood how to take a fantastic subject and make it feel plausible. The films for which he is known best for contain elements which when summarized sound almost too absurd to ever be taken seriously. However, he doesn't simply tell tales of the strange, but rather he writes about strange things that happen to very ordinary people. The envelopes which contain his odd ideas are completely acceptable because they are so normal looking. They are white, they are letter-sized, they are secure. You feel safe ripping into them. Most directors and writers don't even give you a set up or a vehicle for their intentions. They just drop it in your lap like some dumb animal presenting its master with a fresh kill. Cohen approach has less to do with convincing effects and more to do with adorning the story with nuances of ordinary realism. The more horrific parts of the story are always surrounded by moments that don't really feel like they're out of a horror film and instead seem like real life. A lot of directors fail at making horror films because they don't care about the characters or the situations which define them. Cohen's stories feature real people dealing with insane situations, whereas a majority of horror films only build to a scare or try to hard to feel "scary." Cohen didn't really straight horror films in the conventional films; he made weird dramas dripping with satire, which is why his films are superior to so many others.

Cohen's "It's Alive," the first in a trilogy, is undoubtedly the grand daddy of all killer baby films and also one of his finest. Another thing that makes a lot of his films so great is the casting. By today's shallow standards, a guy like the phenomenal John P Ryan wouldn't stand a chance in blue hell of landing a leading man role, because regardless of his skill as an actor isn't what most would consider to be beautiful. However, charisma has far less to do with beauty than most people might think, and Ryan is absolutely dripping with it. What's more he's a hell of an actor. I also think when a performer looks more ordinary it absolutely makes them more relateable to the ordinary men and women in the audience. The script and direction here are priceless, but the acting rather than in-your-face effects are what really sell the situations here.

Here, Ryan plays Frank Davis, whose wife gives birth to an evolved monstrosity that's more equipped to survive wild badlands rather than lay cooing in a suburban crib. During labor, the baby escapes but not before butchering the hospital staff. At large, Baby Davis creates a wake of panic as it must kill to survive, and the city soon mounts a campaign to hunt and kill the infant before claims anymore lives. The bulk of the story really focuses on the maternal bond between parent and child, regardless of what they are or have become. Davis initially resists his feelings, but once faced with his child he completely caves. Ryan absolutely destroys as the conflicted father during a finale which seems heavily inspired by the sci-fi flick "Them!"

Davis returned to the role of Frank Davis in the phenomenal "It Lives Again." Years later, other mutant infants have started popping up, and Frank Davis has become the figurehead of a sort of underground railroad which protects these children from a government which wishes only to see them exterminated. The third and final installment "It's Alive III: Island of the Alive" is also worth the time, though not nearly as strong as the original two films.

Trailer courtesy 2009Murph.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY SIX: SQUIRM (VESTRON VIDEO - 1976)

2011-10-06T11:46:00.000-07:00

I honestly believe that back before TBS was wrenched from Ted Turner's bosom that the call letters stood for "The Beastmaster Station." It seemed they ran that movie multiple times every week, and back to back after their WCW show on Saturday. TBS was at one time one of the greatest and most entertaining basic cable networks ever. It was a man's station, glutted with the Stooges, "Gilligan's Island", Chuck Norris movies, and weirdo late night horror excursions. I used to imagine that Turner himself had a lot to do with the programming. I envisioned him sitting in his office late at night, drinking bourbon while watching TV. I could clearly picture him grabbing the red TBS phone on his desk and saying, "I wanna watch one of them 'Boggy Creek' movies. And start it five minutes late. I gotta take a crap." It was easy to imagine that the balls-out insane lineups of bizarre 70s horror, stupid sitcoms, and knuckle bruising macho action flicks were all piled together at the whim of some wasted eccentric millionaire who thought, "Nothing good is on TV! Fuck it, I'm starting a SUPER STATION!" I know that's what I'd do if I were rich. It would be "Duckman" for an hour followed by "Food of the Gods" and then "American Ninja" followed by four hours of the "The Munsters."

TBS introduced me to a lot of weird movies during its late night runs. In fact, I taped a lot of obscure horror and sci-fi off of both channels which wasn't available on ANY format at the time. Of all the movies that they would air on late night weekends, "Squirm" was without a doubt the most memorable. The plot is absolutely bat shit: after a hurricane hits a rural swampy town, downed power lines pump electricity into the muddy soil which drives the underground population of blood worms insane. City Boy Mick is fortunate enough to be visiting this hick town around the same time while visiting his girlfriend's family. While bumbling around town and getting bounced by envious locals, he stumbles across a few bodies, and eventually discovers that these night crawlers are stripping the flesh off the locals after dark.

The concept of killer worms infesting a town is insane, and I've seen the film described as tongue-in-cheek, but I think the only humor to the film is the odd-ball premise. Otherwise, director Jeff Leiberman (also responsible for "Blue Sunshine") conducts this in a pretty straight forward manner. The film is not without humor. It's definitely quirky, but for the most part, it's treated very seriously, and the imagery throughout the film of the worms invading ordinary situations is absolutely evocative. What makes this a great horror film is that it takes something that is completely absurd and makes it plausible through the quality of the surrounding characters and extraneous situations. By all right, the concept of killer night crawlers is bullshit. But the world within which this problem is set feels real enough to make it work. Absolutely recommended. Check out the trailer from the fantastic AussieRoadShow.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY FIVE: DEAD & BURIED (VESTRON VIDEO - 1981)

2011-10-05T09:01:00.000-07:00

The production of Gary Sherman's "Dead & Buried" may have been fraught with conflict which resulted in all sorts of technical and continuity errors, but none of the resulting discrepancies can keep this film down. In fact, this is the best Stephen King story that Stephen King had nothing to do with.

For its time, this was far outside the "walking dead" norm that had been established by Romero and his Italian imitators by virtue of its traditional treatment of the zombie. The story occurs in a coastal Rhode Island town of Potter's Bluff, where an investigation into a handful of recent deaths reveal sadistic murder. The killings continue, and with each no body, pieces of a wide spread conspiracy float to the surface, suggesting that life in this New England town is not so much sleepy as it is just plain dead.

There are a ton of familiar faces here, including James Farentino and Robert Englund, but the MVP award goes to Jack Albertson ("Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory") as the town's eccentric mortician, William Dobbs. One of Dobbs' quirks is his affinity for big band and old jazz music, which he spins while restoring corpses for open casket affairs. This character detail is vintage writer Dan O'Bannon, and was recycled in "Return of the Living Dead" for Don Calfa's Ernie character. Sadly, this was Albertson's final feature film performance, as he passed away later that year.

The one negative thing I have to say about the film pertains to a wretched looking effect involving the death of the town doctor, where an artificial head is used for an acid injection. While Stan Winston provided the majority of the fantastic effects here, he was not responsible for this abortion. The acid head effect was actually tacked on by another team of FX guys at the request of producers, who wanted a more gore oriented flick. The final result is night and day compared to some of the other fantastic stuff Wintson provides. Otherwise, the film is fantastic. It brims with mood and strong performances from the actors. I wholeheartedly recommend this, but I would also urge you to avoid reading anything about it before hand. Go in fresh and you will be rewarded. Check out the trailer courtesy Deathdealeus1984.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY FOUR: 10 TO MIDNIGHT (MGM/UA HOME VIDEO - 1983)

2011-10-04T08:27:00.000-07:00

Most of my favorite horror films usually aren't horror films in the conventional sense. For instance, you'll usually find "Deliverance" filed under drama, but at its core it's a very human horror story, even sharing some lightly diluted Poe-esque themes. It's impact on popular culture demonstrates its worth as a horror film. It is the innovator of campground anxiety. It preys on a common fear of isolation, the unknown, and ignorance itself. If you've ever been out in the wild with friends, either roughing it or rafting, you will inevitably hear someone in your party mimicking the "dueling banjos" theme through nervous laughter. And while the events which occur in "Deliverance" are pretty unlikely to happen to you, they're certainly more capable of happening than a marrow sucking beast roving the urban sewers.

Though outlandish at points, J. Lee Thompson's "10 to Mignight" has some basis in reality, borrowing from the real life horror of nurse slasher Richard Speck. It's not a pure horror film in the traditional sense, but that's what makes it so great. You could actually call this one a hybrid horror-action, throwing a conventional slasher into the center of an urban cop drama. The film's basic themes will ring familiar to any fan of Charles Bronson, who stars here as the film's hero, Detective Kessler. While common sense has pointed him in the proper direction of a senseless killer, a system which seems like it's practically been designed to protect the guilty prevents him from nailing the creep. Frustrated by the system, Kessler breaks his ethical code and fakes evidence to put the guilty party away, but when his manipulation of the circumstances comes to light, it sets the maniac free to kill again.

Bronson has some truly incredible moments here, such as his interrogation of the primary suspect where he holds up the fake vagina he found in his apartment and shouts damningly, "you know what this is Warren?! It's for JERKING OFF!" However it is Gene Davis ("The Hitcher," "Cruising") as naked serial killer Warren Stacy who really steals the show. The scenes where Warren stalks and stabs his victims while completely nude are pushes from strange into the realm of surreal by Thompson's choice to shoot them in a dream-like style. Where Davis really shines though is during his vengeful prank calls to Kessler's daughter, Laurie. Absolutely unforgettable!

The film is augmented by performances by Andrew Stevens, Wilford Brimley, and Geoffrey Lewis. Check out the trailer courtesy albadeimorti:

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY THREE: THE LEGEND OF HELL HOUSE (CBS FOX VIDEO - 1973)

2011-10-03T07:02:00.000-07:00

I've always thought the box art was deceptively horrible. I'm sure it dissuaded many renters back in the day, or perhaps even tricked some people into snagging it with the expectation that this film held something more of the same imagery in store.

There are quite a few invalid bullshit terms used by wannabe critics to disparage films. Sometimes they're even misused. Nothing pisses me off more than when someone sacks a movie because it looks or feels "dated." Granted, some films age better than others, but the value of a movie that strives to be contemporary to its respective period certainly isn't any lesser. Many have skewered "The Legend of Hell House" with the dated criticism, but when you strip all the mod fashions away you have some factors that transcend its time and are still incredibly effective by today's standards. While nowhere near as graphic as it could have been, its golden staple is its pervasive atmosphere. I've heard people call it unintentionally funny, and I think those people are confused. I've seldom been to a horror screening where the audience didn't laugh at some point that was not intended to be humorous. This is mainly a defense mechanism. Horror films give us the opportunity to confront very real fears in much the same way the plummet of a roller coaster reminds us of our own mortality. Laughter indicates that we have a level of comfort with a subject. Death bothers everyone at some point, and horror films are psychologically a healthy method of facing those fears. To laugh at something which frightens you robs it of its power over you. It's a very defiant and empowering act. That said, sure, people laugh at this film, but I certainly don't think it's because there's anything unintentionally funny about it. The topic of the paranormal is absurd to most people in general, and it handles the subject matter very well. In fact, "The Legend of Hell House" is one of the finest films of this sort.

The story follows a crack team of paranormal researchers, which consist of a spirit medium, a physical medium, and a scientist who believes he can purge the mount Everest of haunted houses of its sinister energies. All the performances are great, but the killer is Roddy McDowall as the apprehensive psychic Fischer, who's also the most complex character of the bunch. While the others are strangers to this house, Fischer was actually the lone survivor of a previous psychic investigation, which left all of his former colleagues either dead or insane. But Fischer's game when there's money involved, and so he once again enters the ominous-looking state where all manner of perversion have painted the walls in bad energy.

Give it the chance and the attention it deserves and be rewarded with a strong supernatural thriller with many very likable aspects. Check out the trailer courtesy OurManInHavana.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY TWO: MUTANT (VESTRON - 1984)

2011-10-02T08:18:00.000-07:00

I was first prompted to watch this movie solely because it starred Wings Hauser. By the mid-point I was a little alarmed that I'd previously never been told about it. Following the finale, I had concluded that this film's obscurity is a complete tragedy. After a disastrous run-in with some Oakies, brothers Mike and Josh find themselves stranded in a rural town. Immediately, the situation goes from dire to pitch back when Josh's (Hauser) brother disappears. It becomes apparent that the town's population is breaking down into craven lunatics due to toxic dumping which has infected the local water supply. Josh and a local babe played by the incredibly cute Jody Medford ("Chained Heat") are soon running for their lives and are forced to pair up with the drunk ne'er-do-well Sheriff (Bo Hopkins) in a fight for survival. The final twenty minutes of this film are easily some of the most tense, I've ever seen. While it's not technically a zombie film, it is definitely required viewing for anybody interested in making a foray into that sub genre.

Four years later, Hauser and Hopkins appeared in the strikingly similar though woefully inferior "Nightmare At Noon," directed by Nico Mastorakis. That plot, too, focuses on vacationers who find themselves trapped in a rural town as its denizens are transformed into feral lunatics due to a biochemical experiment being conducted with the water supply.

Check out the trailer, courtesy Zombies101Trailer.

VHS HALLOWEEN - DAY ONE: MASSACRE AT CENTRAL HIGH (ELECTRIC VIDEO INC - 1976)

2011-10-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

I've said many times that Halloween is easily my favorite holiday. The month of October ushers in a cooler climate, and TV suddenly gets a lot more tolerable as every network wheels out the creepy programming. Throughout the rest of the year I'm generally regarded as a morbid guy, but during October, people think I'm spirited. While most other holidays force folks onto roads to hang out with family members they can't stand, Halloween represents the true ideal behind the phrase "let all acquaintance be forgot." You don't have to leave town to hang out with grandma. You don't have to do anything, really. Staying home and watching shitty horror films is just as much an act of celebration as trick or treating. And thanks to the anonymity of a mask, we can all get together, regardless of association or lack thereof and just have simple fun. Even if you don't wear a costume or carve a pumpkin, that's okay. There is no ball busting criteria by which you must abide, probably because Halloween is far less important to people. And I'm fine with that. That's one of the things that makes it great. There's absolutely no pressure. Every year I always intend to stay home and hand out candy, and every year I get wrangled into yelling at stupid drunks in Waldo costumes. Thankfully, Halloween proper falls on a Monday this year, so chances are I'll get to sit on my couch and ridicule trick or treaters for their horrible fucking costumes. I am really looking forward to it.

Last October, VHS Summer was pretty inactive, and I felt guilty about that. This year, I'm going to try to make up for that by posting one film every day leading up to Halloween. There will be no particular order to the posts in terms of ranking. I'm just gonna post some of the horror VHS that I really love.

Day One's selection is phenomenal seventies cult classic, "Massacre at Central High." While I shy away from comparing them, I still have to insist that "Heathers" owes its entire existence to this movie. The story follows new transfer David (Derrel Maury), a good looking new kid who by all rights should be running with the cool pack that spits on the nerds. However, David is a genuinely friendly guy who doesn't simply judge people based on their geeky exteriors. In fact, he feels a great deal of compassion toward the nerds being tormented by the school's social elite. When David arrives he's reunited with an old friend, Mark (Andrew Stevens). Mark runs with the cool pack and he's eager to initiate David into their circle. However, David's not really interested because he thinks the cool kids are a bunch of dicks. Time after time, David thwarts these bullies, and in one instance prevents a rape from occurring. The only thing keeping the lords of the school from doing something about David is Mark. However, when Mark catches David diddling his girlfriend on the beach, he gives his clique the go-ahead to teach his old friend a lesson he won't soon forget. The clique sets up an accident that leaves David hobbled and far less effective than he was before. However, soon after David returns to school, a series of mysterious disasters starts claiming the lives of the popular bullies. It's really no secret who's behind these deaths either. In fact, everyone knows who's been at work. As the popular herd thins, their security diminishes, and the nerds they once abused become the new rulers of the school. Unfortunately, they also prove to be equally obnoxious and merciless, which prompts David to concoct an ultimate scheme to level the playing field.

The film is not without problems. The music for instance is fucking awful. The song that plays over the title sequence is bizarrely out of place. In fact, this film's greatness is proportionate to how crushingly bad the song is. However, the majority of the performances are actually pretty good in that they feel very natural. What makes it so good is that there is a great deal of importance placed on the characters and situations, where many imitators emphasized the violence. This film proves that you get a lot more mileage out of even a minimal kill when you give a shit about what's going on, whereas a one dimension character doused in a bucket of graphic gore doesn't go very far.

Ridiculously, this film more than likely remains obscure due to the perceived sensitivity toward stuff like Columbine. Rarely has a film ever been doomed for being ahead of its time, but this certainly seems to be the case with "Massacre at Central High." Hopefully some company with brains gives this a respectable release, as it is far too good to have languished in obscurity for even this long. Somebody get on a BluRay release! Check out the trailer courtesy BloodbathTheater.

DEATH DRUG (ACADEMY ENTERTAINMENT - 1978)

2011-09-24T11:08:00.000-07:00

On October 30th, at the Ritz Alamo Drafthouse in the downtown Austin vomitorium district, Video Hate Squad's third edition brings to you a tale of pressing importance: "Death Drug" starring Philip Michael Thomas! Here's what badass at large Lars Nilsen has to say about this unique movie going experience that simply cannot be missed:

"Just in time for Halloween, a different kind of horror story. This time it's not a demented killer with an axe or a power tool, it's not a supernatural menace from another dimension, it's a drug that makes real life a horror movie: PCP. Angel Dust. Sherman Hemsley. When up and coming musician Philip Michael Thomas ries to buy a stick of weed to celebrate his record deal, the lowlife dealer gived him a stick of the sherm, which immediately fractures his reality into a million pieces. Soon his comb turns into an alligator, the pipes in his bathroon turn into snakes and his life turns to shit. As usual, his friends try to help him but he goes farther and farther off the deep end until finally, in an astonishing massive freakout scene in the supermarket, he must confront the ultimate PCP apocalypse! Made in 1978 but not released on video until Thomas had achieved success in Miami Vice, this demented film is only aided by the new, hyper-serious Philip Michael Thomas wraparound segments and music video(!) added for the 1986 video release. This movie is it!"

Lives will be changed! Tickets are only a dollar! If you can deny yourself the opportunity to watch this on the big screen after viewing the following clip, then fuck off and die!

THE NESTING (WARNER HOME VIDEO - 1981)

2011-09-24T10:51:00.000-07:00

Picked up a pristine clamshell copy of this Warner Home Video release last week. Novelist Lauren Cochran moves into her dream home which turns out to be a brothel haunted by ghost hos. Actually, that's over simplifying things, but there really is enough atmosphere here to make you a little nervous if you're alone. Check out the trailer, courtesy of Blue Underground.

THE SURVIVALIST (VESTRON VIDEO - 1987)

2011-09-24T06:33:00.000-07:00

"Most liberals will hate this movie for it surely tells it like it is... if you are a fan of big government or dislike survivalists stay away from this one" - IMDb user, Nolan Price of Shawnee, OK.

If I am ever diagnosed with a terminal illness I’m going to put this movie on, because every moment of it feels like a fucking eternity. I’m not exactly sure what happened here. This thing has so many great things going for it. You have Steve Railsback as Jack Tillman, the survivalist of which the title speaks. You have Marjoe Gortner as Lt. Youngman, a bat shit leader of the National Guard who squanders his resources during a crisis to snuff out Tillman for making him look stupid in front of some Oakies. The bare bones are promising: Tillman, a man who’s been preparing for the breakdown of law and order in the face of imminent world war, braves riots and upstart warlords to find his son. All these elements sewn together should make for a very entertaining movie. Unfortunately, there is one killer ingredient in the bowl that turns this thing into molasses: padding. Virtually every establishing shot is BLED TO DEATH for the purpose of extending the running time of a film that should have only been (and probably was) about 70 minutes long. There's driving. Lots of driving. Lots of shots of cars driving down winding roads. And then there's running. My god, it feels like people are running through brush on a loop. Night time establishing shots of the moon that go on for fucking eons. I won't even get into the marathon shots of Gortner's helicopter continually landing and lifting off, or the battery of pointless aerial shots they sandwich in between them. While this film is not without basic story telling problems, it is this minutia of excessively dull bullshit that drowns the pacing and brings on the yawn.

The story itself is sort of like a Tea Partier’s wet dream. In some remote and unpopulated area of Russia, a nuclear war head is detonated. Naturally, the US gets blamed for this, and Ruskies are burning for blood. Media attention sparks the decline of American civilization, and people almost immediately start rioting. Our hero Tillman gets the news while he’s grilling, and immediately decides to ride a tractor into town to get his strong box from the local bank. Lt. Youngman, played by Gortner, plays a self-important motorcycle riding hoodlum who also happens to be a higher up in the National Guard. Now, hilariously, all the cops and the troops in this movie are played by creepy long hairs, hippies, and bikers, all of whom take advantage of the situation. These counter culture scum have infiltrated every facet of local government and have been waiting for just such an opportunity to pounce. THIS COULD ALL HAPPEN, MAN! BEWARE!

When Youngman tries to stop Tillman from getting his gold out of the bank, Tillman pretty much makes him look like a total boob by running over his motorcycle with his tractor. While they continually allude to the fact that these two characters have some sort of sordid history, Tillman’s ultimate disrespect toward Youngman spawns a die-hard vendetta.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (literally), Tillman’s wife and daughter are sexually assaulted and shot to death by trio of senselessly marauding rotten-toothed hippies. The best part is that they don’t even break in. Instead, they pretty much just strut in because the survivalist’s wife forgot to lock the goddamn door. This was just one of many inane details that bothered me about this movie. Anyway, Tillman gets back to find his family butchered. His daughter’s hanging on by a thread, so he rushes her to a hospital. There, he meets up with family friends The Ryans, a husband and wife doctor/nurse team played by consummate weasel Cliff De Young and the aging Susan Blakely. Unfortunately, Tillman’s daughter is DOA, and the rioters outside have resorted to using TNT to get into the waiting room.

With the situation rapidly deteriorating, Tillman realizes he’s got to go find his son, who’s been sent away to sleep-away camp for the summer. It’s only a matter of time before things go sour for the Ryans, but De Young’s character is adamant that he obey his oath and stay to help the blood crazed denizens outside. Tillman says “fuck that” and knocks his pussy ass out, and then takes the doctor and his wife on a road trip to find his kid.

Meanwhile, Gortner gets a Colonel to sign off on a helicopter, and he’s soon stalking Tillman through the air.

The second killer ingredient here is the sheer illogical nature of the characters, in particular Cliff De Young’s doctor character, Vincent Ryan. All this dude does is whine, and bitch and complain, and he seems eager to break away from Tillman, even though he’s their only source of protection. In fact, Vincent and his wife Linda (Blakely) decide to part ways with Tillman, which gets them into trouble with some bikers. Vince gets his nose broken and his wife’s narrow corridor almost gets renovated into a double wide hallway, but Tillman shows up with his rifle and starts blowing biker scum away. Afterward, Vince is still eager to brave the potential gang rape of his wife by leaving the security Tillman provides just so he can go help others. That’s pretty unbelievable, but it gets much worse. What practically murders the film is the ensuing romance between nurse Linda and Tillman.

Once Nurse Linda realizes that her husband is a total pencil neck twerp incapable of protecting her, she starts making eyes at Tillman. De Young gets the drift and splits. In a pointless excursion, both Tillman and Nurse Linda find an abandoned hotel somewhere and decide to fuck. This dude’s wife just got raped and murdered by Neo-Mansonites, and not even 48 hours later he’s already nailing some other broad? What an asshole. Hilariously, amidst the approaching post apocalypse, these two seem more concerned about how they’re going to explain to Tillman’s son why he has a new mommy now.

Eventually, they find his kid hiding in some pre-designated cave. I guess they had a contingency plan in case the world went to hell while he was away at summer camp. The ending is a bunch of nonsense with Lt. Youngman commanding the Hell’s Angel’s chapter of the National Guard to kill off Tillman, but that obviously doesn’t work out well for them because, after all, this film is titled “The Survivalist.”

The bright side is pretty bleak here. Scrubs-clad Cliff De Young plays a great blubbering vagina. Railsback is here, but he’s not nearly coked out enough to be entertaining. You do get to see Blakely’s tits, but even at this point she’s old and dried out, so who cares anyway? Even Gortner is only minimally entertaining with a catch phrase that gets old very quickly. With a lot of trimming, this might have been a smoother ride, but as it stands “The Survivalist” contains all the boredom and anxiety of an eight hour car ride through West Texas. There is only the hope that you might fall sleep until you reach your destination. The only reason this is slightly better is that you can at least hit eject.

For the morbidly curious, here are the first fifteen minutes of the film, courtesy TheRareMovieGuy. Admittedly, it's good for some laughs, but it deteriorates quickly.

The film was apparently based on the cultishly popular pulp series, "The Survivalist" by Jerry Ahern, though they seem to share little outside of a few themes.

DAGON (LIONS GATE HOME ENTERTAINMENT - 2001)

2011-09-23T11:50:00.000-07:00

Stuart Gordon has solidified a reputation as one of the horror genre’s heavyweights through a very narrow margin of good work. The immediate standouts of course are the classic “Re-Animator,” and from my point of view, the superior “From Beyond.” Personally, “Dolls” only squeaks by because it’s heavily greased up in nostalgia. Outside of a few titles, Gordon’s resume is rather disappointing. There were strained efforts to rekindle Gordon’s heat over the years, though their failure had more to do with the economics of Full Moon. I remember sitting through the not-even-awful-enough-to-be-laughable “Robot Jox” and thinking, “holy shit, this is by the guy who made 'Re-Animator?'” It wasn’t until the “Castle Freak” affair that I was fully discouraged from ever giving another shit about what Gordon was doing. As with most Full Moon films at the time, the only cool thing about the movie was the action figure tie-in, and even still, the movie itself was impossibly shitty, so it made it hard to even wanna own the thing.

Fast forward to a cozy, rainy afternoon some time in the mid-2000s fit to be wasted on Sci-Fi channel originals. This was back before some woman had disfigured the network’s reputation with her gynocentric re-titling. I was probably poised for my third horrible feature of the day when Brian Yuzna’s Executive Producer credit prompted eye-rolling. But wait… hold on. Directed by Stuart Gordon? This was a winning combination. Yuzna had sporadic hits with the live action “Guyver,” “Return of the Living Dead III,” and I even really loved “Bride of Re-Animator.” The works that defined Gordon as one of the “masters of horror” were produced by Yuzna, and it was very apparent that once that team parted ways, the quality of Gordon’s work declined. Say what you want about some of his movies, bottom line is that Yuzna is a great producer, and Charles Band is not.

The film that once again united Yuzna and Gordon was titled “Dagon,” yet another HP Lovecraft inspired horror jaunt, this time inspired by “The Shadow over Insmouth.” Ten minutes in, and it was very apparent that these two guys were still very capable of creating palpable atmosphere – something Gordon’s post-“Dolls” productions lacked completely.

While sailing the Mediterranean with his girlfriend and another couple, things go horribly awry for workaholic nerd Paul Marsh when their yacht runs aground amidst a storm. Luckily, or rather unluckily, they are just off the shore of a rustic fishing town, and so Paul and his better half brave the waves to find help. But there’s something strange about the small town of Imboca. For one, feels strangely empty, save for a few shrouded lurkers, which do nothing to promote the sense of security you want from a so-called populated area. It doesn’t take long before shit hits the fan and Paul finds himself on the run from a township of mutinous, gilled fish mongers, whom we learn pray to the ancient god of the depths known as Dagon. But entwined with terror is a sense of familiarity about this place. While hiding out, he chances upon Uxia (played by the stunning Macarena Gómez), a girl who’s been a part of recent reoccurring dreams. Not only is Paul equally familiar to her, but she also seems to hold the key to his destiny.

Rarely do so-called Lovecraft adaptations closely resemble their source. That’s been the main criticism from fans for years. However, since most of Lovecraft’s stories are relatively short, they require a great deal of embellishment. Of all the Lovecraft films floating around, “Dagon” is easily in the top percentile in terms of its faithfulness to the source material, though it still takes quite a few liberties. Gordon’s robust reverence for the Lovecraft universe feeds and makes healthy the overall spirit of the production, while Yuzna brings great value to the production. Everything from the production design, locations, and special effects are wonderful. All ingredients spun together conjure an atmosphere strong enough to stand toe to toe with something kind of Giallo. Not that I’m saying this is Giallo, but the vibe is rich enough to compete in that class.

My only criticism toward the film will probably seem odd to most, but there is a fairly graphic torture scene where an urchin who’s been aiding Paul has the flesh skinned from his face. It’s not that I’m squeamish, but this part kind of feels out of place compared to the rest of the film. Otherwise, this stands as one of Gordon and Yuzna’s best efforts to date. It’s a shame we never got a follow up.

JUNGLE WARRIORS (MEDIA - 1984)

2011-09-22T18:56:00.000-07:00

At one time, people actually made interesting movies. I just don't understand what happened. There are a limited number of people out there who still produce what you could call "exploitation flicks," where women are physically molested and abused for the sake of entertainment, but they're generally too smutty and serious to be fun. I don't understand why they give mentally imbalanced dudes who dress like Joe Coleman, dye their hair black and have no sense of humor money to make tribute films to their ex-girlfriend issues.

Exploitation films now verge on dirty secrets, or something closer to pornography, whereas they used to be a healthy part of fringe culture. Where did all the overly-macho, overly-sexed action flicks go? Why isn't anything fun anymore? There seems to be very little joy in anyone's work these days. Everything is just way too serious and way too direct. Sure, the people who churned out shit like "Jungle Warriors" were more than likely motivated by the opportunity to make a return on their investment. They knew people liked explosions, violence, and tits. Twenty-some years later, the public has been cheated out of what it once loved through the shaming voice of the moral minority. Our attitudes have regressed in many ways. If someone made a movie like this today, it would probably start riots of ecstasy. It's okay to enjoy this shit. Really. It doesn't make you deviate.

Anyway, this movie rules. A bunch of models fly down to South America for an exotic photo shoot and are quickly captured by a drug czar's militia. Once brought back to his pleasure dome, they are menaced by Sybill Danning. Meanwhile, the Mafia has arrived to discuss business. What a fucking plot! And if you weren't already sold, here's a little trivia tidbit on how Marjoe Gortner wound up replacing Dennis Hopper in this flick:

"Dennis Hopper was arrested by Mexican police for wandering naked around a village near where the film was shooting. He was fired and replaced by Marjoe Gortner. He later said he had a drug problem at the time and didn't even remember being arrested, let alone being fired from the picture."

Check out the trailer, courtesy HumungusFromDaHood.

SLAPSTICK OF ANOTHER KIND (VESTRON VIDEO - 1982)

2011-09-22T17:38:00.000-07:00

This has been described as the absolute worst Vonnegut adaptation ever. Somehow in my head that statement translates as "fucking amazing." Starring Jerry Lewis, Madeline Kahn, and Marty Feldman, everything about this just looks monstrously bad, but even in the most horrible wreckage can be found a sort of beauty. This could be a best of the worst contender.

NAKED VENGEANCE (LIGHTNING VIDEO - 1985)

2011-09-22T17:03:00.001-07:00

Man, Carla Harris cannot catch a break! First, her good Samaritan husband gets gunned down by a big city criminal when he tries to break up an attack. Then, in a state of mourning, she decides to visit her parents' rural home to recover. Shortly after arriving, she is harassed and eventually gang raped by a gaggle of white trash who also kill her mom and dad. Fuck man, even "Death Wish"’s Paul Kersey managed to spread his bad luck out between several films. And if what will obviously wind up being some pretty heavy baggage wasn't enough, the sheriff shows no real interest in nailing the creeps who assaulted Carla and killed her folks! Grief turns to a thirst for vengeance which can only be quenched through brute vigilantism. I haven't seen this yet, but it has been described as better than your average rape/revenge flick, surpassing many of its predecessors, including "I Spit On Your Grave." Directed by exploitation powerhouse Cirio H Santiago, I’m sure this is bound to be pretty good. Check out the badass trailer, courtesy AussieRoadShow.

VHS SUMMER LIVE EVENTS THIS FALL!

2011-09-22T12:38:00.000-07:00

To commemorate what is easily the greatest holiday ever conceived by mankind, VHS Summer has coordinated a series of ass-stompingly killer double-features to ring in the Halloween spirit! If you’re in Austin, we urge you to come out to the following screenings with us at Beerland, located on Red River between 7th and 8th Street.

As always, we’ll be digitally projecting the actual VHS Tapes onto the big screen and running sound through our PA. Our concessions stand also vomits free popcorn upon request! A few people I know have expressed concern about seeing movies in this environment, and I'd like to dispel any negative ideas people might have about our screenings. If you’ve been worried that it will be an unpleasant viewing experience with a bunch of drunken hoodlums riding their motor bikes through the club while you're trying to watch the movies, this is not at all the case. We have comfortable seating, reasonably priced drinks, and while it's a different crowd, rest assured they are there to see something unique. There is no shouting at the screen. So, come have fun.

SEPTEMBER 25th: “BLOOD SONG” w/ “BLOOD HARVEST

This month’s theme celebrates slasher films starring 60s pop stars as their culprits! The first film of the evening, “Blood Song” stars the terminally adorable Donna Wilkes from the classic “Angel” as a young girl with a psychic connection to a crazed serial killer on the loose. In the midst of home drama, Wilkes is continually plagued by hyper-violent imagery of a flute-playing mangler’s grizzly deeds as he wheels his way to her locale. The psycho in question is played by none other than former Teen Magazine sensation Frankie Avalon. Guys, no shit, he’s actually very convincing as a mentally frayed stalker with a hair-trigger temper. Come see Frankie like never before as he raves, rapes, rips, and rends his way toward poor Donna in this incredibly strange supernatural slasher!

However, my friends, we have saved the most surreal for last. Closing out the night will be the budget horror classic “Blood Harvest,” which tells the story of a woman who returns home to her rural family farm home to be plagued by a mystery killer. This movie is a total POS, but what makes it so utterly compelling and legitimately nightmarish is that it stars sixties pop sensation TINY TIM as a minstrel clown. Tim is creepy all on its own, but his presence here heightens the already eerie atmosphere to something that will fuck you out of some sleep. Seriously, Michael Meyers is some baby shit compared to Tim in clown makeup. Come get scarred for life!

OCTOBER 9th: “NIGHT OF THE DEMONS” w/ “POPCORN”

This event will be co-hosted by fellow VHS enthusiast and French Inhales frontman Dan X.O. We fully endorse his selections.

“So much can be said, but so few have seen the cinematic splatter work that is “Night of the Demons.” Sure, it's got your run-of-the-mill “possessed teens in a haunted house” plot, but never has it been delivered with such style and humor. It also has a great soundtrack featuring Bauhaus and simulated punk songs from the film’s composers. It also stars Linnea Quigley (“Return of the Living Dead,” “Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers”). All constructed by Kevin Tenney, the man who brought you the classic “Witchboard.” I can assure you that after watching this, you will never look at a tube of lipstick the same way again.

Next up is the highly underrated slasher “Popcorn,” and it is surely a treat. A group of co-eds are stalked and killed in a theater during an all night horror movie marathon. Yes, the premise is familiar, but this little nugget has got a few things going for it that most slashers don't: really fucking awesome and elaborate kill sequences, Kelly Jo Minter from “A Nightmare on Elm Street 5” and “The People Under the Stairs,” and a villain so charismatic and likable that it’s shocking that he didn’t wind up with his own franchise. Even the film's protagonist claims "that makes perfect sense" after the killer reveals their motive!”

- Dan X.O.

OCTOBER 16th: “TRICK OR TREAT” w/ “SHOCK EM DEAD”

This edition will be co-hosted by one of our favorite people on the planet, Gerard Cosloy, part of the brain trust behind Matador records, proprietor of 12XU records, author of sports blog “Can’t Stop The Bleeding,” and man about town.

“Through the miracle of backwards-masking, deceased hair metal merchant Sammy Curr returns from the grave to fuck with mourning fan Eddie Weinbauer (Skippy from “Family Ties”) and extract violent retribution from Eddie's bullying classmates. The part of Curr was supposed to be played by WASP's Blackie Lawless but perhaps running out of cash after granting tiny parts to Gene Simmons ("Nuke", the local DJ) and Ozzy Osbourne, they instead opted for former "Solid Gold" dancer Tony Fields (a name that doesn't quite signify "demonic metal icon"). "Trick Or Treat" was directed by Charles Martin Smith, no stranger to confusing music-related projects (his turn as middle-aged looking high school rocker George Smalley in Ron Howard's TV film "Cotton Candy" would rank as the least convincing portrayal of a rock musician...were it not for Tony Fields).

I'm sure everyone reading this is a huge fan of the broadway musical "Damn Yankees". Or perhaps the short lived CBS TV series, "A Year At The Top". Either way, the creators of "Shock 'Em Dead" really upped the ante on deal-wit-da-devil movies when they decided who better to sign a satanic pact than an aspiring metal guitarist? And what better way to reward his devotion to the dark lord than by a) making Traci Lords his lust interest, b) hiring multi-neck guitar wank wizard Michael Angelo Batio as his stunt double? Whoever said "the devil has all the best music" probably never heard Nitro, BUT I DIGRESS. "Shock 'Em Dead" has only gotten funnier over the years, and it's arguably Ms. Lords finest role… since she turned 18, anyway.”

- Gerard Cosloy

"WE LIVE! WE LIVE STILL!"

2011-09-07T10:35:00.000-07:00

It just occurred to me that I haven't updated this blog in over a month, which is ironic since Summer has always been my busiest season for movie watching. I am not a fan of what I like to call "the hell months." Since this Summer began, I seriously haven't watched much. As a teenager I used to spend most of the Summer in some cold, dark room with grocery bags of tapes borrowed from our local video store, Salzer's. This year, steady triple digits have turned our state into kindling. Our cowardly mail man has made himself scarce on any day that breaks 110, and the glut of tapes he's no doubt been stock piling in the back of his sweltering little Jeep have occasionally been heat-damaged.

So, my luck's been pretty bad in terms of tape hunting lately. In the meantime I've buried myself in work. A few of the people who know me pretty well are aware that I help produce hip hop videos. No shit. Here's one of the latest ones I worked on with my partner Donlee Brussel.

Not exactly my cup of tea, but it was a chance to film something. Donlee and I have two more videos ahead of us before the end of Summer, too. One of them is for a metalcore band, and will feature Scout Taylor-Compton. None of this is VHS related, I know, but I just wanted people to know what was up with me and why I'd slowed down on this sucker for the time being.

Once I'm a little less busy I'll pick up contributing to this blog again. In fact, in the tradition of the last bunch of Kickboxer entrees I did, I'm kind of thinking about doing a string of reviews on "Relentless" and its sequels.

KICKBOXER 4: THE AGGRESSOR (LIVE HOME VIDEO - 1994)

2011-08-06T19:53:00.000-07:00

Being fundamentally superior does not necessarily make something the best in its realm. Previously, “Kickboxer 3” made several remarkable upgrades in terms of film score and acting. It’s better than it has any right to be. While I’ll totally cop to the fact that it is probably the best of the series, it’s certainly not my favorite entry. Best in terms of quality does not necessarily always translate into entertainment value. Comparatively, “Kickboxer 4: The Aggressor” is a total piece of shit. It looks cheap. It sounds cheap. It feels absolutely cheap. But it is obnoxious, loud, and fast in the best possible senses of these terms. The previous entry’s most redeeming quality was its momentary excursion into “Deathwish” style urban revenge. However, the weirdness is snugly book ended by business as usual. Albert Pyun's fourth "Kickboxer" film is a high flatline on the EKG when it comes to weird! There is no apprehensive moment at the tip of the diving board. This movie starts IN the deep end. At the beginning, we are violently THRUSTED into the cervix of the bizarre. There is no origin rooted in the ordinary world. There isn't even a brief gasp of normalcy. It’s like opening your eyes first thing in the morning to a freeze frame of a fist laying into your face. In fact, it feels more like a beautiful dream than a movie.

Director Albert Pyun holds nobody’s hand. He defies you to just figure it out, which is what makes a lot of his films so enjoyable. Most of Pyun’s movies feel more like a fight to make sense rather than simple entertainment. The perfect metaphor for his films is like playing that annoying fucking Milton Bradley game, Perfection, where you only have a limited amount of time to fit the pieces into their corresponding slots before it all blows up in your face. This is not because Pyun is a bad filmmaker. In fact, Pyun is a total genius. Pyun seems to be a guy who is rarely blessed with an easy task. Anybody who knows the history of his productions knows that he often works with soul crushing budgets and meddling producers who should have been more accurately credited as saboteurs. If someone gave James Cameron Auschwitz and told him to turn it into Disneyland, he’d probably walk out of that internment camp utterly defeated. Put Pyun in that same situation and you probably won’t get Disneyland, but he’ll at least give you Action Park, which is still a miracle in its own right. The point I am trying to make is that yes, Albert Pyun is a much better director than James Cameron or even Michael Bay. Those guys make shitty movies in spite of the fact that they have 300 million dollar budgets. Albert Pyun could make an entertaining movies in spite of the fact that he doesn’t even have 3 million. Do the fucking math.

Sasha Mitchell is back one last time as David Sloan, and once again he’s playing a completely different character, which is logical given his character’s circumstances. Some undisclosed amount of time down the road, we join David in a federal penitentiary, where he’s been rotting for several years after being framed for a crime he didn’t commit BY MEXICAN DRUG LORD TONG PO!

Holy shit, yes. I feel this.

The film starts right off with a badass flashback as David writes his wife a letter briefing her on the history of Tong Po. Po crippled his brother Eric Sloan. Kurt Sloan trained in Muay Thai to avenge his brother. Kurt Sloan kicked Po’s ass. Disgraced, Po went and shot Eric and Kurt to death, and then later came after David for a match so that he could avenge his loss to Kurt. David totally beat his ass though, and Po ran away with his pony tail between his legs to MEXICO, where he apparently became the most badass drug dealer ever! And I guess David started working undercover for the DEA and Po framed him for a crime that’s never really fully disclosed. Shortly after, they show Tong Po abducting and raping David’s wife.

Before going any further I must take some time out to tell you all that Tong Po—er, excuse me, MEXICAN DRUG DEALER TONG PO, is the best thing about this entire movie. Here, Po is played by Kamel Krifa, a long time friend of Jean Claude Van Damme’s. Interestingly, Krifa’s background closely resembles that of Michel Qissi, the man who’d previously played Tong Po in both “Kickboxer” 1 and 2. Both Krifa and Qissi trained with Van Damme early on and went on to routinely appear in his films. Both men are also phenomenal in their portrayal of the same character. While Qissi played the previous incarnations of the mysterious Tong Po to animalistic perfection, here Pyun has expanded the character to resemble a hyper sadistic Bond villain. He has gone from 100% black to over-saturated color. Within the confines of his Calexico compound, Po lives out his delusion of godhood to utter completion. When introduced to his public, his announced credits include “philanthropist, “psychotherapist,” and “award winning record producer.” One hilarious moment features Po playing the loot terribly, which he concludes by boasting "so you see, I have musical talent as well." Krifa is absolutely brilliant here, bringing charm and humor to a character that verges on farce, but still playing him as realistically as possible. While Po is over the top and at times hilarious, he is intended to be a satirical figure. Unfortunately, the film is otherwise populated with laughably bad acting, so Krifa's show stealing performance tends to go unappreciated. In fact, it's unfairly lumped in with all the other shit going on.

After several years of wrongful incarceration, the government approaches David Sloan behind bars with a proposal that really doesn’t make much sense. Tong Po is holding a lethal million dollar tournament at his compound in Mexico, and they want Sloan to infiltrate it. Not sure exactly what he’s supposed to ascertain or even do once he's there, but whatever. Sloan accepts the challenge. Hilariously, when the agent stresses that it’s very important that Sloan not be recognized, David responds by saying, “it’s been years since he’s seen me. I doubt he’ll recognize me.” Okay, hold on. We’re talking about the dude who killed your two brothers, framed you for a crime you did not commit, kidnapped your wife, and whose loss to you in “Kickboxer 2” brought him so much shame that he ran away to Mexico. And you think after a couple of years he probably just forgot what you look like? If they'd had Mitchell dye his hair, grow a badass mustache, or given him a diamond studded eye patch -- if they'd somehow given him a character to slip into, it would have made this whole story a lot easier to swallow.

Sloan is released and immediately enters into a qualifier for the tournament, which he wins. His victory scores him an invite to Tong Po’s pleasure fuck palace, and makes way for the border. On his way, he enters a roadside diner and gets into a fight while defending the annoying Michele Krasnoo. It is here that an action sequence so stupid it is amazing takes place: Sloan kicks a dude out of the front window in bar room brawl tradition. The dude gets up, and is HIT by a van that’s pulling up, which knocks him through ANOTHER window and back into the bar. Awesome.

The rest of the plot is mostly ripped off from “Enter The Dragon,” with Sloan showing up at this grand tournament with a bunch of other fighters, and then sneaking around the compound after dark in search of his blown out wife. Po's reaction to the blood sport is absolutely hilarious, as he sits on his thrown, jangling his legs like an excited kid on Christmas.

Eventually, Sloan is captured much to Po’s delight. The film ends with the fighters revolting and taking on Po’s personal army, while Sloan has his own show down with his old arch nemesis.

Throughout the film, Po is depicted as a megalomaniac and rapist with an insatiable appetite for underage girls. However, for some strange reason, Pyun decided to give the character a tender side, which almost leans toward redemption. Before the finale, we learn that Sloan was part of a raid on Tong Po's compound that resulted in the death of his wife, whom the tournament is named after. I can't decide if this is stupid or awesome, but it certainly gives Po both purpose and a reason to hate Sloan even more. Not that he needed more reasons, but it's a more noble reason I guess. As I've said before, it sure is a shame we never got a movie that squarely focused on Tong Po, as it certainly almost seems like Pyun laid some ground work for one here. It's not too late, Albert!

The one thing that sets this particular film apart from the others is that there’s tons of nudity and an extremely gratuitous soft core sex scene. The various fight scenes throughout this film might also be amongst the best out of the entire series. Of importance to me is also the fact that Pyun-favorite Thom Mathews (“Friday The 13th 6,” “Return of the Living Dead”) stars as Tong Po’s disheveled, satin-shirt wearing henchman replete with horrible neck tattoo. Mathews plays the part of total sleaze to perfection here, delivering perhaps one of the more memorable quotes during this film. As Po begins to force himself upon Sloan’s weird looking wife, Mathews mutters with a smirk, “go Po,” as he exits the room.

Overall, this movie is totally over the top, and the entertainment value far exceeds its budgetary constraints. This would have been an incredibly high note to go out on, but unfortunately someone had to fuck it up. Few people even know that there’s a fifty entry, but those who’ve seen it regret the experience. A year after this film was released, “Redemption: Kickboxer 5” was released. The film starred Mark Dacascos ("Iron Chef"), and we learn that David Sloan was killed off by some greedy corporation trying to monopolize champion kickboxers. Fucking stupid. The movie was directed by a woman. Go figure.

I couldn't find a trailer, so instead I will leave you with a brief selection of Tong Po whipping some goofy white boy's ass. GO PO!

KICKBOXER 3: THE ART OF WAR (LIVE HOME VIDEO - 1991)

2011-08-03T11:28:00.001-07:00

The third installment of the “Kickboxer” series, subtitled “The Art of War,” is an odd duck in the best possible way. A lot of fans consider this to be the weakest entry in the franchise. However, I happen to think it may be the best, as director Rick King ("Prayer of the Roller Boys") actually gets his own things right for the first, and sadly, last time in the series. In what has become tradition, this story takes place in a completely different locale than previously seen. We’ve gone from Thailand to Los Angeles, and here we’re taken away to Rio de Janeiro. The exotic location does much to inflate the film’s sense of bigness. In fact, this may be the largest feeling entry of the entire series. Perhaps the most important component in making this film feel bigger than the others, though, would be the contribution of composer Harry Manfredini. By this point, the prolific Manfredini had racked up a distinguished resume, sprucing up countless horror flicks with his distinctive cues. Most notably, Manfredini is the guy responsible for bringing most of the dread and tension to the "Friday the 13th" films. No matter how much money you spend on something, you can easily junk it up with a cheap synth score, and that was certainly the case in the previous two “Kickboxer” entries. Some say it’s impossible to class up a film of this nature, but Manfredini’s music absolutely gives this film a bigger feel.

Sasha Mitchell and Dennis Chan return as David Sloan and Xian, and it seems like someone threw their chemistry in a reactor, because it’s freakishly strong here. So natural are these two here that this feels like it could have been their fifth outing together. A lot of that might have something to do with the fact that Mitchell isn’t struggling inside the Van Damme mold in this movie. Rather, he seems far more comfortable in his own skin. Not only does he bring his own personality to the David Sloan role, but Mitchell’s physical performance is miles better than anything demonstrated the in “Kickboxer 2.” Mitchell does not possess the balletic grace of Van Damme, and it was very apparent that Pyun tried hard to work around that. Here, King embraces Mitchell’s physical merits and plays him up as a powerhouse that really beats the hell out of people with spinning knees and elbows. On all levels, Mitchell has really grown beyond where he was just a year before. About the only bad thing about Mitchell I can say here is that his wardrobe is fucking awful. Red Cross Colour overalls with no shirt? Yeah, that’s tough alright.

While this movie is far from perfect, this is what a good sequel should be. By comparison, “Kickboxer 2” is just a formality; it establishes some characters and reintroduces some old ones, and builds some relationships. This movie takes those characters and introduces them to new situations and environments instead of simply rehashing scenarios. Simply re-enacting familiar situations and story lines is the greatest folly any sequel can make. Absent is Tong Po for once, and for the better in this instance, as it made way for new challenges, which expand the characters.

Not only is David Sloan once again a competitive fighter for some inexplicable reason (he retired in the last film), but he’s recognized as thee international kickboxing champion, which has brought him to Rio, where a brash new challenger awaits. After landing, David and Xian do a little sight seeing, during which we’re treated to some Travel channel bullshit about Capoeira. Why they bother demonstrating this unique style of Martial Arts, I have no idea, because they never encounter it again. While dining, some street tough kid played by Juanito from “Blood In, Blood Out” steals Xian’s camera, which leads to a chase. David kicks the shit out of Juanito’s Fagan and retrieves the camera. Xian demonstrates some sympathy for the street kid and his hot virgin sister, Isabelle, by buying them lunch. I’m totally sure Xian wants to bone her because he checks her out non stop. By the way, in case you were not aware, there are a shit ton of street kids in Brazil, most of whom live by their wits from day to day and are involved in some pretty dubious activities, such as prostitution and violent robbery. If you ever go to Brazil and run into a few of them, the last thing you should do is sit down to a meal with them, as they will most likely stab you and leave you with the check… unless you’re David Sloan of course.

The kids tag along with David and Xian to a Kickboxing exhibition. Despite the fact that it’s a charity event for street kids, David’s ragamuffin guests are pretty much treated like scum. The exhibition gets going, and we’re introduced to Martine (played by legit Kickboxing champ and familiar B-movie face Ian Jacklin), David’s opponent for the big championship fight, which is to take place the following week. Suffice to say things get out of hand and there’s a brief face off between David and Martine. Afterward, David is approached by Martine’s manager, Lane, who’s been eye fucking Isabelle all night. Lane apologizes for Martine’s brash behavior and invites him to a party. He even asks him to bring the kids.

There’s a party, blah, blah, blah. David kicks some fool’s ass. All this leads up to Lane’s men kidnapping Isabelle later on so he can add her to his roster of fine Brazilian jail bait, which he pimps out to high end clientele at top dollar. From here, the movie takes a surreal landslide as David and Xian hunt down Isabelle’s captors. Now, this is the portion of the movie that a lot of people seem to take issue with because our heroes basically just start blowing bad guys away. I personally think it’s what makes this movie amazing simply because it’s so weird. First of all, none of the actual gun play in this movie detracts from the kickboxing elements. It’s not like you signed up for a martial arts flick and all you got was Xian blowing dude’s heads off with a 357. That’s just an added bonus. Up to this point, David has still been kicking the living shit out of people. And as weird as it is, it’s completely logical and it plays into the film’s subtitle, which a lot of idiots don’t seem to understand. Basically, our heroes adapt to the task by picking up guns off the black market to fight organized criminals, which is realistic.

So, David and Xian go “Deathwish” and start blowing the fuck out of the kiddie peddling heavies in excessive Woo-like fashion. Better still, our protagonists dispense a tide of hot lead like it’s something they do all the time. In one particularly brutal scene, David snaps some dude's neck like he's scraping crud off of some dirty dishes! Since when is this guy a cold blooded killer that goes around soullessly snuffing his adversaries out? This bizarre sequence is mainly satisfying because it is so completely out of left field, however, it’s not well done. King commits an unforgivable faux pas by showing a guy getting chopped up by a machine gun in slow motion while the sounds of shots firing are in real time. Fuck that.

We go from insane to just plane stupid when David and Xian finally catch up to Lane and fall into a trap. Earlier Lane tried to talk David into taking a dive for Martine so he could clean up on some bets. You’d think since he has something that David wants he would be in a prime position to negotiate right? Well, instead of doing the logical thing, like torturing him, or blackmailing him, Lane decides to just do stuff that will make David REALLY TIRED before the fight, like going jogging with rocks in a backpack, digging holes, swimming really far, and water skiing without skis. No shit. AND THEN HE LETS HIM GO BACK TO THE HOTEL TO REST AFTERWARD!

However, Xian’s primitive Eastern methods rejuvenate David in time for the fight. The challenger, Martine, does get his ass handed to him here, though at one point he gathers his wits enough to mock David by doing the running man, which is easily the best part of the movie for me.

Eventually, they get Isabelle back. Lane, who bet his upscale whore farm on Martine goes belly up. The film concludes when David and Xian free the rest of the teenage harem, and Juanito winds up stabbing Lane to death, which isn’t as awesome as he thought it would be. Then, David, the guy who was snapping necks and emptying clips into fools, lectures “killing someone never makes you feel good.” What the fuck happened between parts 2 and 3? Did this motherfucker go to Iraq or something?

Like I’ve said, this movie does have its problems, but this is overall a very good sequel and the production value is SEEMINGLY several rungs above what we see in the other films, including the first. Mitchell reprises the David Sloan role one last time in the totally bat shit insane “Kickboxer 4: The Aggressor.” Sadly, this was Dennis Chan’s last turn as Xian.

KICKBOXER 2: THE ROAD BACK (HBO VIDEO - 1991)

2011-07-27T13:36:00.000-07:00

This whole thing is mottled by an unnecessarily convoluted script, but within this mess the compressed lungs of a good sequel sputter and wheeze. Albert Pyun’s “Kickboxer 2: The Road Back” gets a few things right despite the odds against it. Far starters, Jean-Claude Van Damme apparently had no interest in returning to one of his most popular roles. For fans of the original film the absence of JCVD is an immediate red flag, but nevertheless they make creative way around that gap by killing off Kurt Sloan to make way for a third Sloan brother. While no mention was ever made of David Sloan during the first film, this character's invention was a welcome alternative to simply passing off some other actor as Kurt. Van Damme’s surprising successor in this film comes in the form of Sasha Mitchell, best known at that point for his role as the doltish Cody Lambert on ABC’s “Step By Step.” Physically Mitchell could pass for one of Van Damme's relatives, which helps quite a bit. Beyond that, Mitchell does a surprisingly strong job of emulating some of Van Damme’s mannerisms in spite of the difference in their accents. While some will still consider Mitchell a marked trade down, one cannot help but respect the makers’ attempts to somehow keep this as closely relevant to the original movie as possible without insulting its audience. Sure, JCVD is gone, but fans of the original film will be happy to see Dennis Chan back in the role of Xian Chow. Better yet, Michel Qissi returns as one of the action cinema’s most memorable villains, Tong Po.

A cast of faces that could serve as a “who’s who” primer for bad 90s action flicks also keep this a comfortably familiar affair. Matthias Hues, whom most will fondly remember as the towering alien bootlegger from the classic “I Come In Peace,” shows up early on. Vincent Klyn, who played Fender in “Cyborg,” also turns up in a minor part as a thug staking out David Sloan. Prolific Japanese veteran actor Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa is another welcome face despite being woefully miscast as a Thai politician. I’m pretty sure all of these guys went onto work on several more productions together. Remarkable veteran actor, John Diehl (“Angel,” “Joysticks,” “Stripes”) is sort of underused in the bullshit role of Sloan’s accountant. Legit kickboxing champion Vince Murdocco plays Sloan’s protégé Brian Wagner. Murdocco, who got his start in the sequel to the soft core Flesh Gordon comedy, went on to appear in a handful of other action B-flicks, including the phenomenal “Private Wars.” For some reason, Brian Austin Green pops up in the opening as a street tough punk in a King Diamond shirt who wants to put Sloan’s martial arts skills to the test.

The real shocker here, though, is Peter Boyle in the strangely likable role of fight promoter Justin Maciah. Here, Boyle once again proves that he is an exceptional, high caliber talent who can extract pure gold from whatever material he is given to work with, no matter how lame it might have been. A lot of great actors fall on hard times and turn up in some less than respectable movies, all in the name of the mighty paycheck, and they’ll simply go through the motions without much zeal. Boyle on the other hand is one of those rare guys who will nail a role, no matter how small scale the project is. Sadly, no one else in this film is on his level, so he routinely runs away with whatever scene he’s in and makes his co-stars look bush league by comparison.

As mentioned before, the story is a little more complex than it needs to be. They quickly establish David Sloan as a bleeding heart who’s running a gym that’s hemorrhaging money. The charitable Sloan spends most of his time teaching the neighborhood delinquents martial arts (good idea!), which isn’t paying the bills. Also under his tutelage is promising young kickboxer, Brian Wagner, whose aspirations of going pro seem to clash with Sloan’s ideals. Enter Justin Maciah, eager to cash in on the Sloan name by signing him to a lucrative contract under his upstart kickboxing promotion. But Sloan is not interested. To be honest, Sloan actually comes off like a pretentious asshole throughout the beginning of the movie. Not only is Boyle likable in the role of Maciah, but the character isn’t exactly written like a swaggering blowhard Dong King type. He seems pretty reasonable. So, Sloan seems like he’s overreacting when he tells Maciah to fuck off.

However, the writing is on the wall. The bank is about to foreclose on the gym, and Sloan has no money, which eventually drives him to compete against Maciah’s champion, Neil Vargas (Mattias Hues). Sloan wipes the matt with the guy and cuts a post match interview where he rips the promotion and all of its competition before retiring. Now this is where shit gets kind of stupid and tangled: Vargas wants satisfaction after being disgraced, so he breaks into Sloan’s gym, shoots him in the leg, sets the place on fire, and the little Mexican kid who asks for Chevy Chase’s watch in “The Three Amigos” dies in the process. Sloan winds up in the hospital, despondent over the events. For some inexplicable reason, Kurt’s trainer from Thailand, Xian, is brought to the US to train David. It doesn’t really make much sense, but whatever, Dennis Chan is back.

Meanwhile, the sinister Sanga, Maciah’s business partner in the fight promotion, is hatching a plot. Sanga arranges for Maciah to arrange to get David Sloan’s student Brian Wagner to fight for their promotion. Eventually, Sanga reveals that he is an associate of Tong Po’s, the villain from the first film. Apparently, Kurt Sloan’s victory over Po brought great shame to the fighter. They tried to arrange a rematch so that Po could regain his honor, but for some stupid reason Po tracked down Sloan and shot him to death, therefore making the rematch an impossibility. It looked as if Tong Po would never regain his honor until Sanga discovered David Sloan. Sanga hopes to goad Sloan into a rematch with Tong Po to avenge his loss and restore prestige to the former champion. There’s a lot of stupid shit going on here.

Maciah quickly starts grooming Wagner for a championship bout. During this whole period we’re treated to a crappy montage which parallels Sloan’s recovery with Wagner’s training and in-ring career.

Wagner catches up with Sloan at some point and invites him to his upcoming championship match. He even gives him an extra ticket and asks him to bring mama Wagner along so she can share in the jubilation of his victory. Right off the bat, you know something bad is going to happen. So, Sloan, Xian, and Wagner’s mom show up for the big fight. Sanga has Maciah’s champion replaced last minute with Tong Po, who proceeds to kick the living shit out of Wagner. Wagner winds up dying in the ring and Sanga’s men issue a challenge to Sloan to face Tong Po later that night. Really, David S Goyer? Was all of this bullshit really necessary? Did they really need to lure Brian Wagner into the ring so that Tong Po could kill him so that David Sloan would have a reason to fight the guy that SHOT HIS BROTHERS TO DEATH? Give me a fucking break.

Anyway, Sloan and Po break out the glue and broken glass hours later in the empty arena and face off in a rather unspectacular duel. Sloan gets his ass pounded into raw hamburger until words of inspiration from Xian compel a Hulk Hogan comeback out of nowhere, which leads to Sloan knocking Po out of the ring. Whatever.

While Sasha certainly bares resemblance to JCVD, and he demonstrates an interesting interpretation of his predecessor’s mannerisms, he is certainly lacking in martial arts skill, which is a tremendous detriment to the film. Story-wise, his training sequences make little sense. Xian’s main focus seems to be physical recuperation rather than martial arts training. Kurt’s training in the first film is somewhat shallow, but at least logical. Xian essentially tortures Kurt into becoming like steel. Here, David has virtually no preparation against Tong Po. There is no character arch. Stranger still, David seems to have NO IDEA who this man who killed his brothers is. Like I said, considering the history of the characters in this film, there are a lot of unnecessary twists and turns along the way. The plot with Wagner simply wastes time that should have been dedicated to Tong Po. And what the fuck is up with Vargas? Couldn’t Tong Po have burnt down the gym and killed the kid? In fact, Sloan never avenges the loss of his gym or the death of the boy against Vargas, so this is just sloppy story telling.

This film has several blessings however, the first of which is Boyle’s presence. The second is the phenomenal Qissi’s return as the larger-than-life Tong Po, who is perhaps the film’s most interesting character. It’s honestly a shame we never got a movie that focused on Tong Po alone. The villain is often more important than the protagonist he faces. In fact, the greatness of a hero is often defined by their adversary. Qissi’s Po is so powerful that it sort of eclipses the absence of JCVD’s Kurt Sloan for me.

One last commendable thing about this film is something that it does NOT have, which was a romantic subplot. How often does a subplot with some dumb bitch impede the ass kicking? You won’t find that here. Yes, dudes like tits, but you don’t always need to use romance as a means to justify nudity. Can’t bros just be at a strip club and in the background, BAM, titties? I know I’m fine with that.

The production value seems surprisingly high, too. The arena scenes in particular feel big. Unfortunately, the horribly cheap synthesizer score completely craps all over that. In fact, no score is always preferable to a cheap one. Shitty, cheap synth is cinematic AIDS. It can virtually tamper with an audience’s perceptions and make something that cost a lot of money to make seem low budget.

Reviewing this recently from the HBO VIDEO copy, I noticed that there seems to be some stuff that’s trimmed out of this version, in particular Kurt Sloan’s death scene. In fact, I have vivid recollections of seeing this in the theater, and I remember them alluding to the fact that Eric Sloan had been killed along with Kurt, and I also seem to remember Mylee – Kurt’s love interest and Xian’s niece – being shot by Tong Po as well. Not sure what happened to this footage or if it’s available anywhere else.

In case you’re wondering, Van Damme actually turned this film down to work on “Double Impact.” I often wonder what might have been had JCVD reprised either the Kurt Sloan or Frank Dux roles at some point. Historically, every great action film star had a franchise under their belt. Bronson had Kersey, Norris had Braddock and McCoy, Eastwood had Callahan, and Stallone had both Rocky and Rambo. Van Damme is perhaps the only real action heavyweight to break that pattern of attaching himself to a franchise, and that may have perhaps diminished his value in the long term. Sloan and Dux were potentially Van Damme’s Rambo and Rocky, but he left them behind for one reason or other. I have often wondered if his eventual decline might have been postponed or averted entirely had he embraced the characters that made him famous.

Chan and Mitchell returned to reprise the Xian and Sloan characters a year later in the surprisingly strong “Kickboxer 3: The Art of War” – perhaps the second strongest film in the Kickboxer series. A few years after that, Mitchell returned as Sloan in the bizarre, comic bookish “Kickboxer 4: The Aggressor,” where he once again faces Tong Po, sadly NOT played by Qissi.

GHOUL SCHOOL (CINEMA HOME VIDEO - 1990)

2011-07-26T08:50:00.000-07:00

By Chris Engberg

Some movies are so inexplicably inept in their message and delivery that they fall into the swamp of a category: “For Some Reason.” Written, Directed, and Produced by Timothy O'Rawe, “Ghoul School” dives into that swamp and quickly thickens the water into a vat a festering sewage. Listen, I am fully aware this was intentionally made to be campy and fun and funny—but it wasn't and I'm about to rip this off its spool.

As soon as you put the tape in, music starts playing—even over the FBI warning! This leads into a very bizarre and long computer animated title sequence, which is blindingly cheap even by 1990 standards. The top billed credit goes to Joe Franklin, followed by minutes of no ones, and capped off by a “special guest appearance” by Jackie “The Joke Man” Martling. The extent of his Howard Stern alumni’s “special appearance” will be noted later.

The title sequence and song – which sounds like it was from a gothy Super Nintendo game – actually made me think this could be cool. Seconds into the movie I knew we were in trouble when the first two shots were loooong, lingering shots of the outside of a high school building. It immediately conjured one of my favorite Mystery Science Theater 3000 lines: “They're establishing the hell out of that building!” Down in the school’s boiler room, we’re introduced to a big old fat janitor in mid-romance with demon liquor, though he stumbles around more like Chris Farley on heroin. Which I guess is redundant. Anyway, he stuffs some money into a lock box on the wall and then morphine-shuffles over to his cot, which is an odd single achievement in realism within this movie. All high school janitors live in the boiler room. This is just a fact -- from Freddy Krueger to the black janitor in “Hiding Out.”

Two dropout junkie fruitcakes with a vocabulary that consists 50% of the words “fuck” and “shit” have caught wind of this money stash and decide to rob the school at the end of the day, which quickly leads one of the robber clods to shoot the gas huffing janitor while he's tied up because they can't find the money. As a gag, the shooter presses a button on the wall and says something along the lines of “hey, what's this do?” causing the other robber to scream “NOOOOOO!!!” The thieves are then very, very slowly misted with some bullshit chemical the school keeps on hand for some reason and leaves accessible by a single unmarked button.

This mystery mist contaminates the school's water supply, so anyone who comes in contact with it becomes, from what Max tells me, a shitty knockoff of one of Lamberto Bava’s Demons, with blue skin, green blood, and long, sharp teeth. The swim team is the “main” source of misfiring humor, the running quip being that THERE'S TOO MUCH CHLORINE IN THE WATER! Oh my stars, you got us, joke-not-funny-enough-even-for-Prairie-Home-Companion.

The heroes of the movie are two horror nut AV nerds whom we first meet at home, where they are harassed over breakfast by an unexplained step-brother/roommate/bully character. They never really touch on what the deal is with this guy, but he’s written so poorly that you feel okay with the fact that they never touch on him again. Our protagonists both wear Jackie “The Joke Man” Martling t-shirts along with 18 other people in the movie. One of these fools distinguishes himself by affecting his mouth to look like Bill Murray's character in “Caddyshack” without all that, you know, ability to be funny. These two dinguses sit in class reading both Fangoria and Slaughter House, so you'd think that when zombies show up later, they'd shoot them in the fucking head, but, for some reason, they don't. After school they stay late to jerk each other off in the AV room watching extreme horror movies.

Cut to Joe Franklin sitting in his infamous office packed with stacks of sheet music and ephemera. Here, we’re treated to a brief telephone conversation with the principal of Ghoul School, who thanks Mr. Franklin for speaking to the kids at an assembly. There is no one better to talk to high schoolers than Joe fucking Franklin. Sadly, the best thing about this movie is Franklin’s seemingly annoyed state at having to actually shoot these scenes. He seems especially perturbed when “special guest star” Jackie “The Joke Man” Martling finally graces the screen. Martling attempts to pitch himself to be on Joe's show, so we then sit through about three minutes of Jackie's one-liners – jump cuts and all – as Joe Franklin attempts to mask his beast-like rage with politeness.

That’s the extent of Jackie’s onscreen appearance, though this flick is otherwise packed with shit tons Martling’s t-shirts, posters, a comedy tape, and stickers (one of which is seen in an air duct – actually kinda funny). My theory is he agreed to appear in the movie for free in exchange for godless amounts of product placement. Joe comes back much later in the movie, much to my surprise, on another call to the school's principal clearly ad libbing his way out of another engagement at the school, only to punctuate it with a theory that there might be something in the water as he's feeling “very peculiar” and insists the water supply be tested. Joe knows his shit, I guess. This also gave me the SLIGHT hope that we might get to see Joe Franklin in zombie makeup. Of course that doesn't happen.

The box’s tagline that reads “Sex! Babes! Rock n Roll!” and yet this film is a never-ending desert without any oasis of nudity. Not even a mirage. Shitty film making 101 is that women without integrity or intelligence are usually much cheaper to come by and they will get naked for a steak dinner. I don’t understand how they came at us with this crap without any sacrificial breasts. We were not appeased. However, we do get some bullshit metal band, the Blood Sucking Ghouls, rehearsing in the school auditorium for the prom – a gig that has the singer's octogenarian girlfriend up in arms in between public makeout sessions and tepid arguments about managing the band. As they repeatedly play their one song, the editor could not be bothered to attempt to sync up any footage to any convincing playing, partly because none of them can play. The drummer looked like a stoner who was asked to perform brain surgery—just throwing his arms around. The AV nerds and the mooks in the band eventually join forces in a fight for survival. Other unmentionables include a pointless subplot of the basketball team only having five dudes on the entire team and the dickhead coach forcing them to practice all night. I guess he should because none of those twerps could make a single basket. They all end up being slaughtered. I think this was the scene where a true maverick of a zombie decides to chainsaw a guy in the crotch, instead of the tearing limb from limb seen everywhere else. The movie ends with the lead singer of The Blood Sucking Ghouls' elderly girlfriend, safely on the roof as the rest of these miscreants run out into the city, which is now all zooed out. Everyone dies and no one cares, except for the tough grandma on the roof shrieking “NOOOOOOOO”, because I sure as hell did not.

Check out the trailer. Amazingly, this thing makes this thing look a million times better than it actually is.

Prolific “auteur” in the genre of this bullshit, David DeCoteau, has an executive producer credit on this slugfest, yet "Ghoul School" makes his standards look Leone-esque by comparison. This may dwell in the scraggily barrel that DeCoteau built, but O’Rawe’s caustic terribleness corrodes the bottom out of it. DeCoteau is also listed as “uncredited” on IMDB, despite being violently credited on the tape itself. Let's just chalk that up to this movie's TMOQ.

Completely unrelated, Nintendo produced a video game entitled "Ghoul School" in 1992, which has become a minor cult hit amongst gamers. In spite of its glithces, it's also way better than the movie.

THUNDER SQUAD (MOGUL - 1985)

2011-07-23T10:55:00.001-07:00

So far, all my experiences have led me to believe that a movie with foil box art is an omen of utter shittiness. Whenever I run across a box that glimmers, I am flooded with horrible childhood memories of trolling comic shops during the 90s when every company was producing eighty different cover variants, featuring scads of dumb fucking gimmickry, from foil, to gate fold, to polybag condoms with trading cards, and even holograms in order to up the potential collectability of their title. In the process, the big two did a marvelous job of glutting the market with a high volume of sparkly crap nobody wanted, and pretty much destroyed it in the process. Since then, I have been completely wary of anything that happens to glitter. What some may see as a cute feature, I see as a cheap distraction crafted with the intention of making me think that, “hey, this thing is gleaming like Ra’s anus. It MUST be special!” Don’t believe the hype my friends. If it’s bedazzled, then it has gotta be bullshit, and “Thunder Squad” is another round of ammo in my argument’s chamber.

At first look, this is a potentially promising affair. Antonio Sabato is present, and Umberto Lenzi at the helm should at the very least yield some pretty raw violence. Even the box art itself is pretty great, featuring a misfit cavalry, tarrying forth to stomp some Bolivian ass no doubt. The cover is actually pretty great… but it has that goddamn foil finish, which defies all probable goodness. It is a figurative head on a pike, but being the morbidly curious guy that I am, I live and die by a single question: “just how bad can it really be?” Well, situations like this have lead to a new definition to describe the very bowels of awfulness: It’s FOIL COVER-BAD.

Following a blood thirsty dictator’s hostile takeover of an undisclosed South American country, a clusterfuck of governments conclude that the previous despotic ruler was less of an asshole and decide to enact a plot that will put him back in charge. But when the opposition gets a whiff of the plan, they kidnap the original dictator’s son, thus preventing him from seeking rule once again. The rest of the story is a total flatline that follows a pack of crack mercenaries, aided by a supposedly sexy demolitions expert, on a mission to free the boy. Shortly after rescuing the kid, his father is assassinated and our mercenaries end up stranded in the South American wilds with the kid and a pissed off army hot on their trail. One of the good guys pulls a heel turn and decides he’s not going to die just for some kid, even though he had previously agreed to go into the jungles to fight guerillas for the same kid only a few days ago. Whatever, pal. The kid eventually leads them to an allied border, but not without a few casualties, and that’s about it. Overall, the movie is a total snooze, the characters are barely there, and the violence itself is unspectacular for a Lenzi effort. The film’s ending feels like the conclusion of an episode of the A-team. For an episodic television show that’s going to be back next week, it would have been fine, but for a film it feels totally abrupt.

The film’s fatal soft spot truly is the lack of character development. We’re presented with types we’re supposed to accept, but we never learn much about their background, their bond, or who they are as people, which makes it virtually impossible to give a shit about anything they do. A huge component in making violence impactful is the characters involved in the explosions. Without any idea of who these people are, I just can’t be bothered to care. No one here is even remotely likable. The demolition chick is a bitch, the mercenaries are one step away from becoming creepy rapists, and THESE are the guys with the integrity. Tack on an annoying kid and I start to run real low on give-a-shits.

Though I contemplated turning the film off at several points, there was one scene early on that compelled me to keep watching. Following news of the boy’s kidnapping, the government gathers three of the world’s best psychics. They’re brought into a room, hooked up to an electronic scanning device, and each gives a reading which pieces together the exact coordinates of the boy’s location. This was a rather convoluted plot device to introduce, so I was curious as to whether or not the psychics would return at some point in the story. They never do, which left me completely baffled and disappointed at the end of the film as to why they even bothered to add a supernatural element to this story. Recommended only for those hell bent on knowing the work of Lenzi intimately. “Thunder Squad” is also interesting for its striking similarities to not only the last “Rambo” film, but “The Expendables” as well. There are some parallels between these films that left me wondering if this was one of Stallone’s influences. Otherwise, it’s a waste of time.

VOYAGE OF THE ROCK ALIENS (PRISM - 1984)

2011-07-01T11:39:00.001-07:00

Holy Christ, I don’t even know where to begin. Before I attempt to dig into this meatball, I must state that the absolute worst part about this movie is Pia Zadora and that carp-mouthed bellowing she passes off for singing. I do not understand how this foul dwarf achieved fame, and the fact that she was a sex symbol at one point is revolting to me. The only thing slightly more disgusting than Zadora's Penthouse spread would be the prospect of a Yeardley Smith sex tape.

In my search to discover how she achieved her fame, I trolled the extensive pop culture knowledge of good friend Gerard Cosloy of sports blog Can't Stop The Bleeding. This is what I got in response to my question, "just who the fuck does Pia Zadora think she is?":

"Pia Zadora was a z-list actress with a zillionaire, aging husband. In one of her first movie roles (Butterfly), she won a Golden Globe for "best newcomer" award despite a shitty appearance in a film no one saw. Her husband [had] wined and dined the voters on his yacht. For years the award was cited as evidence that the Golden Globes had no credibility. Over time, she kind of became a running joke -- frequent punchline on Carson, etc. She used the notoriety to her advantage, taking on commercials that played on her ditzy/no-talent image. Later in life she was cast in one or two John Waters movies in small parts. She was sort of the Paris Hilton/Kardashian of her era in that she was famous for being famous for being famous for sucking. However, because she took the abuse with considerable grace (keep in mind this was before blogs and Twitter) she actually fashioned something close to a favorable public reputation despite no one actually remembering any of her work."

Ah, Mr. Cosloy drops the mortar with the bricks here. I can finally start to put this thing together now. Unfortunately a lot of sources that detail Zadora's career neglect to mention factoids such as her husband's income bracket. Anyway, onto "Voyage of the Rock Aliens."

This hernia-inducing box of “what the fuck” opens with a Flying-V shaped space craft cruising through outerspace while blasting "Openhearted" by Real Life. I see this, and I’m kind of thinking, “Fuck yeah! This is alright! I can get down with this!” At the helm of the ship, a robot pilot scans nearby planets for some sign of life. He gets a hit and looks through the scope to see this:

It’s a post apocalypse-themed music video for the Jermaine Jackson song “When The Rain Begins to Fall” featuring Pia Zadora! I'm freaking out, about to have an aneurysm of joy, thinking, "holy shit, Jermaine is the leader of an apocalypse motorcycle gang, and he's going to have to fight aliens -- this is going to be the most amazing thing I have ever seen!" But then the video ends and so do my hopes and dreams of this being a truly amazing experience. Sadly, this is not a set up for the whole movie, even though it SHOULD HAVE BEEN! It was right under their noses. Unfortunately, the video was actually shot after this movie was filmed and later tacked for the release, so I can't really point fingers at anyone for missing the boat.

The Robot scans another planet, which is far less promising than the previous. Pia’s here too for some reason, but instead of Jermaine she’s backed by some horrible Stray Cats rip-off by the name of the Pack. Throughout the duration of the movie, all I can think is that this would have been a much better movie had it featured the Pack from Germany.

So, the ship’s occupants, a bunch of Devo wannabe’s by the name of Rhema, decide that this must be the place and quickly beam down in a phone booth, ala Bill and Ted. Once there, they wind up clashing with the strict regime of the Pack and their domineering manager Frankie, played by Craig Sheffer. Pia, who also happens to be Frankie’s girlfriend, soon catches the eye of the Rhema’s leader, and sparks fly. There’s not much in terms of plot, but the dancing and singing comes in relentless, two-ton slabs throughout the course of this bottom of the barrel sci-fi spoof, and it all ends without much of a conclusion.

Bottom line, this is a wretched effort. I can't call it bad because its intentions to be a campy tribute to 1950s drive-in culture are very apparent. They're trying to make a "good-bad" movie. However, they fail at the good. In fact, there is virtually no good about this movie. Bad can redeem itself -- it can even contain goodness. The humor is not good. The actors seem uncomfortable. The production value looks below sitcom scale. The bulk of the music, which isn't even rock, is merciless in its abundance and illogically littered throughout the film. What little story there is gets continually sacked by terrible, out-of-nowhere dance numbers. This wasn't really so much a viewing for me as it was a suffering. I felt a wide range of emotions while enduring this thing, from violent impatience to sadness. However, there was one scene that saved me from the brink of meltdown. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Craig Sheffer.

This is so bad it's fucking amazing! This is a mighty kraken in a virtual sea of "whatever!" The funniest thing about this is that the song itself is fucking awful. It's so bad that at first I thought it must really be Craig Sheffer singing it, but then I learned that HE ISN’T! Sheffer is actually lip syncing to the song which is performed by Michael Bradley of Paul Revere & The Raiders, which actually might make it twenty times more amazing than it was.

The only things really worth visiting from this film are the “Nature of the Beast” number as well as the “When The Rain Begins to Fall” video, which was basically inserted into the film after it was shot. The song actually does appear later in movie, with Sheffer lip syncing to Jermaine’s part while he and Zadora piss all over the fourth wall.

Originally the film was not written as a musical. In fact, it was intended to be an ultimate homage to b-movie culture. The premise of a town crawling with supernatural activity is a warm and fuzzy one, and was more likely intended to come off like the fantastic cult comic “Creepsville.” But the common tragedy of producers with bright ideas and little creativity struck hard here, and it was their hand that sewed a colostomy bag filled with the pungent influence of 1978’s “Grease” to the back of this mess. Ultimately, this thing is a top to bottom atrocity. Sadly, this was also Ruth Gordon’s last film – a sour note to go out on. Michael Berryman also provides a glimmer of decency as an escaped lunatic. Still there’s not much that will redeem this experience.

Here’s the theatrical trailer, though this movie didn’t really get a theatrical run.

SUMMER OF FEAR (THORN EMI VIDEO - 1978)

2011-06-30T10:40:00.000-07:00

I am always suspicious of horror fans who roll their eyes at horror releases with PG-13 ratings. There are certain instances where I can indentify with their frustrations. In particular, I’m annoyed when an older R-rated film is made safe for the trogs of today. Some things should not be made more accessible. Personally, most of my favorite horror films tend to be a little low key. I prefer atmosphere over violence or gore almost every time. I think horror can be effective without reaching for the gross out lever every five minutes. This early Wes Craven effort, originally titled “Stranger In Our House” is perfect proof of that. While made for television back in 1978, it still managed to capture the audience’s imaginations, and those who saw the film back then still fondly recall it. There’s no visceral imagery. In fact, there’s only one on screen death, and that’s courtesy of an exploding car. But the story is great, the performances are strong, and Craven effectively conjures a bank of atmosphere that keeps your curious piqued.

Linda Blair stars as Rachel Bryant, an equestrian teen whose family opens their home to cousin Julia following the untimely death of her parents. Over time, Rachel is the brunt of bad luck that only seems to benefit Julia. Rachel’s horse, who isn’t particularly fond the new arrival, goers berserk and is sent away. Later, Rachel develops some nasty hives on the eve of a dance, which leads to Rachel’s boyfriend Mike falling in love with Julia. Eventually Rachel discovers a handful of ritualistic ingredients that lead her to believe her cousin is practicing black magic. Even the man whom Julia enlists to help convince her parents of this outlandish theory falls tragically ill, and Rachel knows it’s no coincidence. Just as Julia is on the verge of possessing the family, Julia exposes her, saving the day.

There’s virtually nothing about this film that I do not like. The only weak link this film has is the build up to the twist pertaining to Julia’s true identity. Other than that, Blair turns in a delightfully bratty performance. The absolutely stunning Lee Purcell deals a knockout performance as the hex-savvy belle Julia. The film also provides Fran Drescher’s TV debut as Rachel’s best friend.

This is yet another fine TV horror piece in the tradition of “Gargoyles,” “Bad Ronald,” and “Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark” that takes the less-is-more approach. While it won’t blow you away, “Summer of Fear” is definitely simple, utterly likable, and actually very well made. Though some may dismiss this as too tame, it is easily one of Craven’s most effective in terms of feel, and certainly an overall better quality movie than some of his later work.

The movie was so well-received by the American TV audience that it was later repackaged for a theatrical run overseas as "Summer of Fear." The script itself was based on the 1976 "Summer of Fear" novel by Lois Duncan, who could be called the godmother of the explosively popular young adult novel trend of today. Much of her work has had a profound influence on modern horror, and several of her novels have been turned into popular films, including the unfortunate Kevin Williamson abortion "I Know What You Did Last Summer."

NEW STUFF: AURORA ENCOUNTER (NEW WORLD VIDEO - 1986)

2011-06-30T09:35:00.000-07:00

Is it just me, or does it seem in really poor taste to cast a kid with progeria in the part of an alien? Apparently Mickey Hays, a boy who suffered from the disease which prematurely ages you, wound up in this film thanks to the Make A Wish foundation. Hays had requested to star in a real Hollywood production, and so I guess they found him this role. I guess that's cool, but still it seems kind of fucked up to me. I mean, couldn't they have found him the role of an old person rather than a creature from outerspace? I'm not even trying to be tasteless here! That would have seemed more logical! In spite of the fact that "Aurora Encounter" qualifies as a true cinematic oddity, I think sitting through this might drain my powers. The story is based on the alleged Aurora, Texas UFO crash which occurred in 1897, when an airship collided into a windmill. While searching the debris, the citizens discovered the tiny body of what they presumed to be an alien, later dubbed "the martian pilot." This being was supposedly buried in the local Aurora cemetery, which remains a geographical point of intrigue and debate amongst skeptics and UFO enthusiasts.

Thanks to OurManInHavana for the trailer.

STREETS (MGM/UA - 1990)

2011-06-30T09:13:00.001-07:00

Here’s something I’m pretty sure no one has said before: this movie is so fucking bad I can’t believe it was made by Concorde. “Streets” is an obvious late wave imitator of Robert Vincent O’Neill’s “Vice Squad” and “Angel,” only with all the elements that made those films so fantastic completely MISSING! The mean streak has been muted. There is no imaginative approach to depravity. The sense of humor is nowhere to be found. And perhaps most importantly, the odd heart which really drives so many of O’Neill’s plots and gives them urgency is not here.

One quickly gathers a sense that writer/director Katt Shea perhaps ambitions of expanding what was intended to be a simple exploitation piece into something that had a real soul and played on social conscience. Unfortunately, just because your film stars human beings doesn’t make it human, and the end result feels like some nagging LifeTime movie. I understand and admire what she was trying to accomplish, but this thing just fails on so many levels. It’s sort of a betrayal of what one might expect from Concorde at this point, because it tries to be ABOVE the sort of film that it’s intended to be. There are moments of frank dialog which are intended to be shocking, especially because they are uttered by the characters in a casual fashion. This might alarm a Mormon house wife, who will sit back and aghast and wonder, “My god, how can she the word ‘handjob’ as if it were a garden variety flower.” To the connoisseurs of 42 street schlock, this is yawn-inducing stuff. Situations intended to be dire or dark just feel too tame in contrast to what its predecessors delivered so many years before.

The other sad component of this dull equation is that you just don’t give a shit about the characters in these situations. They just weren’t developed into people with real stories, and they lack an element that is intrinsic to surviving the worst situations: humor. Sure, these wayward adolescents are shooting drugs and turning tricks, but at some point they chose this lifestyle, more than likely because their home environment was far worse what they’re now facing. None of the characters have a background story, and between them there aren’t any moments of tenderness or happiness. In Penelope Spheeris’ “Suburbia,” the protagonists engage in activity that could be construed as villainous from an outsider’s point of view. In fact, Spheeris could have made a “Suburbia 2” from the perspective of the neighborhood council, and the T.R. characters could have easily been the antagonists. In “Suburbia,” Spheeris provides us with insights into their terrible home lives which makes their assholeishness excusable if not endearing. While the T.R. kids are essentially homeless and plagued by drugs and violence, most of the scenes that depict them functioning as a family are incredibly warm and funny. The characters in “Streets” are written as quirky in attempt to make them seem fun, but it just doesn’t work. The movie radiates a weirdness that makes it compelling, but unfortunately it’s not enough to validate it as a whole.

The movie gets off on the wrong foot by starting with a splat! Teenage prostitute Dawn, played by Christina Applegate, picks up a john, and her life is immediately on the line when the guy tries to kill her. Starting things with a bang is one thing, but this is out of nowhere. Dawn manages to escape with the aid of Sy, a douchebag rich kid (played by David Mendenhall, the pussy kid from “Over The Top”) with a keyboard who happens to be slumming it for the weekend. After a totally bullshit narrow escape, Dawn introduces Sy to the streets and her cast of loser friends. Meanwhile, the john that tried to kill her turns out to be a cop, and he’s hell-bent on revenge. One of the most frustrating things about this film is that they never really establish whether or not this guy is a serial killer, and the only faint hint of motivation for his deeds is a potential impotence problem. Generally, if there’s a killer on the loose, we’re treated to a few news reports, some news clippings, or just something that establishes that a serial killer is contributing to a climate of fear within the community. We get bupkiss here. Still, as unbelievable as this part of the story gets, it’s about the only thing “Streets” has going for it. Never mind the baffling reviews from people who say that this was a well-made, poignant film about the lives of street kids otherwise marred by the shoe horning of a b-movie killer. First off, the acting is hokey as fuck. The characters are poorly developed and their relationships are forced. The writing itself is bland. The score sounds like some Lilith Fair bullshit. The photography and coloring are a poor substitute for true atmosphere. And while the topics are real they are not presented in a realistic fashion. Seriously, it's not good on any level.

After shrugging through the majority of the film, it was the film’s final moments that had me shaking my fist and screaming at the screen. Having thwarted the murderous cop, Dawn and Sy wind up at a bus station, where Sy’s parents wire him bus tickets. Noble Sy wants to rescue his newfound illiterate prostitute junkie girlfriend and give her a new life. However, in much the same fashion that Tarzan shuns society and returns to the jungles to be with the apes at the conclusion of "Greystoke", Dawn decides that the streets are her home and she prefers the comfort of blowing strange dudes for heroin money. What a fucking retard. Anyway, the star crossed lovers say their tearful goodbye and part ways to end the film. But much like Rick and Ilsa have Paris, Sy and Dawn will always have AIDS.

Now, I’m not gonna lie. The only reason I sat through this was because I wanted to see Kelly Bundy’s tits, and it so wasn’t worth the trip. Basically all you get is side boob, and what little you DO get is marred by bad lighting and some romantic piano bullshit. I’d rather that there be no nudity than half-assed nudity. Seriously, this is one of the worst movies about teenage prostitution ever. Skip it.

NEW STUFF: VIKING MASSACRE (MEGA - 1966)

2011-06-20T10:16:00.000-07:00

There are very few things in this world that when put together just feel right and natural. Cameron Mitchell as a viking warrior throwing knives at motherfuckers is one of them.

Trailer courtesy of PostDecadentTrailers.

GIRLS NITE OUT (1984 - THORN EMI VIDEO)

2011-06-20T09:18:00.000-07:00

Anytime I piece one of my entries together, the first thing I do is a little bit of research on the subject at hand. So much of what I watch has been deemed “obscure” despite the fact that most of these movies had their sites trained on achieving popularity. They weren’t made out of a desire to alienate or drive people away or lose money, but due to various circumstances, such as technical ineptitude or budgetary constraints, they often fell short of most people’s watermark of acceptability. Still, many of these movies are not without their charm, and they certainly have their social value since a lot of them are a reflection of their time’s zeitgeist. Sometimes I run across a film that I find to be legitimately strong that still somehow never quite caught on with the public. Exactly why this happens absolutely fascinates me and compels me to seek out the opinions of others as to why that happened. I need to know why perfectly solid films fail to capture or alienate an audience. In the case of “Girls Nite Out,” IMDb offers evidence that would suggest that most people are just too fucking stupid to get it.

Horror is the most misunderstood of all film genres. Many people love to simplify it as a macabre celebration of the gruesome, which appeals only to angst-drenched, low-brow adolescents with anger issues. While that may account for a segment of the audience, this sad generalization does not exemplify most horror fans. Some may think so, but that’s only because the unintelligent denominator tends to be the most vocal. They will vehemently defend what they love while violently assailing what they hate with a militant idealism. So while there might be some deeply disturbed people out there who love horror, they represent a small minority. Unfortunately, their mongoloid screams are loud enough to convince most people that all horror die hards are unrefined low lives with a craven thirst for simulated violence. These same loud mouth dregs are also primarily responsible for smearing “Girls Nite Out,” a film which refuses to simply ride the mean streak into a ruddy horizon of pornographic “guignol.” In spite of a lot of overwhelmingly negative criticism regarding this film, it DOES deserve a chance to be seen as it contains value not often seen in your average eighties slasher.

The reoccurring descriptor in reviews for this film is “by-numbers.” This is a shallow appraisal made only by obvious people who are probably either prejudiced against this type of film, or by cerebrally challenged types whose bottom line is gross-out violence as opposed to plot of characterization. While “Girls Nite Out” relies on elements that had become clichéd even by 1982, the inclusion of these things is wholly intentional. In fact, the creators nearly steer this into parodic territory, but at the same time they demonstrate a genuine affection toward the genre. Despite an atmosphere of light hearted 1950s drive-in nostalgia, the violent portions are gruesome enough to keep things grounded in the realm of serious horror.

The gist of the plot follows a battery of college characters on an annual scavenger hunt hosted by the campus radio station. Amidst the gleeful event, a mystery killer in the school’s hijacked bear mascot costume stalks select participants, bumping them off in grizzly fashion. We’re introduced to several red herrings throughout the course of the story, though several cinematic references spell out the killer’s true identity for you early on.

At a brief glance, the movie seems like your run-of-the-mill slasher flick, but there are actually quite a few things that set this one apart from most others. For starters, the quality of the writing is a lot stronger than you’ll typically find in films of this nature. Ample time is devoted to establishing the characters. Most slasher films toss you some half-ass stereotypes you can't like or even hate. Here, they kill characters that seem like actual people rather than cheap cardboard. The quality of characters is something you might expect from a “Hollywood Knights” type farce. In fact, Newbomb Turk would have been entirely at home within the context of this movie. This film contains humor worthy of a comedy instead of lowly horror-caliber humor, which can be the ruination of many a film in this vein.

Major kudos goes to the production design team, whose attention to fine detail brings much to the film’s atmosphere. The campus setting, too, feels special. The most is made of the environment, but I also cannot recall a lot of films being set on college campuses, perhaps because these sorts of locations can be difficult to secure.

And then there’s the killer, whom most people write off as goofy. As mentioned before, the film’s antagonist wears the university’s mascot costume while dispensing of people with a claw-like murder weapon constructed out of knives. The costume’s benign, almost cutesy design ultimately lends to its creepiness, though. I’d go as far as to say that the concept of using a beacon of school spirit to wreak terror and vengeance upon students is genius. It should not work, but it does.

Hal Holbrook, probably riding the recognition he’d gained from other recent horror outings such as “The Fog” and “Creepshow,” turns in an unintentionally funny performance as campus security chief Jim MacVey. Holbrook’s scenes were shot in a single day and later edited into the film to make it appear as if he is interacting with his co-stars even though he really wasn't. It’s magical.

The film was shot in 1982, but was not released until 1984. The less-inspired original title “The Scaremaker” was replaced with the more evocative and logically fitting “Girls Nite Out.” The trailer for the movie, a favorite amongst cult film fans, was shot years later. The suggestive actress in bed is not in the actual movie.

Trailer courtesy of MediaB.

This was unavailable on DVD until several years ago when Shriek Show released it as part of part of the “Bloody School Girls” three pack, which also included “One Dark Night” and “Blood Sisters.” Not many people seem aware that this DVD exists, but the pack is worth picking up, as it includes an interview with Julia Montgomery, along with the original trailer. The set as a whole is pretty good, with “One Dark Night” being a two disc release which contains the original anamorphic presentation along with a director’s cut. “Blood Sisters” contains a comedy commentary by Joe Bob Briggs, the trailer, and an interview with Roberta Findlay.

Before I end this, I have to touch on the box for the Thorn EMI VHS release. This thing is a work of art that poses minute relevance to the actual movie. The cover features a snap shot of a frightened girl who does not appear in the film, clutching a sheet. Behind that there's a hand scrawled note that contains the highlighted passages, "You know what really turns me on. I LOVE TO BE SCARED!!," "Weird & Kinky," and "Motor Running." Again, the letter has nothing whatsoever to do with the movie. The back of the box features several lithe looking girls in short shorts, posing cautiously. I believe this shot was actually taken from a theatrical poster for the movie. Again, none of these bitches are in the movie. But still, the box rules, and the movie is a must have for any respectable horror collector. Find it.

NEW STUFF: GAS PUMP GIRLS (VESTRON - 1979)

2011-06-10T16:04:00.000-07:00

When pump jockey uncle Joe, played by former Bowery Boy Huntz Hall, falls ill and struggles to keep up with his filling station, June and her amply endowed female friends come to his aid. While bare breasts are firmly in place, this feels a little gentler than what you might expect from most films in this vein. Perhaps it's just that it doesn't feel as swarthy as most of the sex comedies that came later. Expect good humor, a surprising list of Hollywood veterans, and a shit load of terrible disco.

Trailer courtesy of Edge Of LA.

NEW STUFF: MESSIAH OF EVIL (1973)

2011-06-04T06:59:00.000-07:00

This visually stunning drive-in cheapy is drenched in buckets of mood, and shockingly, the hand that did the hurling is also responsible for "Howard the Duck." This tale of a young woman who ventures to a town to find her missing father has hint of Giallo feel to it, though the blood comes in conservative portions. She is joined by a free spirited couple in her search, and together they discover that something spiritual has infected the locals, converting them into a cult of flesh eaters. Visual elements combined with a general dream-like atmosphere sort of lead me to believe that "Carnival of Souls" was a strong influence.

I obtained a Video Gems copy, which was marked as being very good. Unfortunately, when I got the tape itself, the actual Video Gems art had been butchered. Gone was the spine, while the shape of the front and back sleeves looked like they'd been carved up by a fever-damaged three year old with the aid of safety scissors and teeth. The tape itself was in great condition. I just wish more people would consider the actual quality of the box before saying the quality is anywhere near good. But sadly, this is a hobby for which there is little respect. If someone was trying to sell a first edition of a rare novel, they wouldn't grade it as "mint" if the pages themselves were nice in spite of the fact that the cover and back had feces all over it.

The film was co-written and co-directed by husband and wife team Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz, who were both also responsible for the screenplays for "American Graffiti" and "Indiana Jones & The Temple of Doom." Worth seeking out.

Trailer courtesy of apparitor2.

NEW STUFF: DEVIL TIMES FIVE (1974)

2011-06-02T10:19:00.000-07:00

This copy of "Devil Times Five," also known as "Peopletoys," comes courtesy of Video Treasures. Filed comfortably under the killer brats subgenre, the encapsulated plot is somewhat hilarious: a bus en route to an asylum crashes, letting loose a bunch of homicidal children who seek refuge in a winter resort, where they naturally start knocking off the guests. A whole lot of fun. Also stars a young Leif Garrett.

Trailer courtesy vertigoflow.

NEW STUFF: THE NINJA WARS (1982)

2011-06-02T09:57:00.000-07:00

This was a bonus tape in a small lot I recently won on eBay. Surprisingly, a nice big box copy of the A.N.E. Home Video release. I've never seen this before, but after witnessing the following clip it's become high priority viewing.

The story follows a young Ninja on a quest to save a woman who's been kidnapped by an evil sorcerer with the intention of marrying her to become the rule of the universe, as prophesied. Needless to say, I'm in. Sonny Chiba also co-stars in this film, and is also responsible for the fight choreography. Strangely, the box neglects to mention him.

Trailer courtesy of theunexplainedchannel.

NEW STUFF: MOTEL HELL

2011-06-02T09:48:00.000-07:00

Well, I actually DID have this one already, but when I found a big box copy of the MGM/UA release I couldn't pass it up. Prior to that, I'd only had a cut-art version, and then another big box that was sun bleached beyond recognition. But this one is in nice shape. Anyway, this is easily one of the best of the eighties, and perhaps a little ahead of its time. Some call it a horror comedy and others even say it's a parody. There's no denying the sardonic humor, and it's definitely self aware, but it's also highly effective as a horror film at times. How much longer until you think this one gets remade?

Trailer courtesy of sideshowcarny.

NEW STUFF: KARATE COP (1991)

2011-06-02T09:19:00.000-07:00

This is actually the sequel to the 1990 snoozefest, "Omega Cop," where Marchini's John Travis rides around in a Jeep rescuing ungrateful women from potentially rapey situations. In the first installment, we learn that the world has been turned into a post apocalyptic wasteland due to ecological disaster. Whoever wrote the script knew dick all about the topic though, as the film treats the Greenhouse Effect like a disease that makes people lose their minds. The fight sequences are visual Xanax, and Marchini's just got nothing going on in terms of charisma. I'm reluctant to subject myself to "Karate Cop," but the trailer seems to have a lot more leather and metal studs, and the plot has something to do with a fighting arena. I'm really torn here.

Trailer courtesy of ActionPackedCinema.

NEW STUFF: PRIVATE WARS (1993)

2011-06-02T09:03:00.000-07:00

A down-and-out alcoholic private eye, played by Steve Railsback, intervenes when a corporate tycoon attempts to muscle out the residence of a shitty neighborhood to make room for a high rise. I'm very excited to see Stuart Whitman in this because he looked like he'd been hog-tied by death by 1991, and this is two years later! My instincts tell me that this might be as good as I'd hoped "Ghetto Blaster" would have been.

Trailer courtesy of ActionPackedCinema.

IF IT'S NOT A JOLLY DREAM IT'S NOT WORTH HAVING

2011-05-30T16:46:00.000-07:00

I felt the pulse of stress starting to wane, and so I threw another shovel full of coal into the furnace by starting a record label, Jolly Dream Records. Our first release is by local Austin band, Creamers. Available through Revolver and Matador Direct.

For me, this recording evokes the innocence of my punk obsessed adolescent days. It brings me to a state of nostalgia, but it's not at all cheesy or clichéd. It does not seek to justify itself through inane politics. It is just balls out snot, with some of the best vocals I've heard in years. I truly love this single, and I proudly stand behind it. If you're a fan of Killed By Death, seek this out. These guys will also be on tour at some point this summer.

For now, we're just going to be releasing quality singles. Our next offering will be by TN band Useless Eaters. Keep an eye on the Jolly Dream blog for updates.

Jolly Dream Records: CREAMERS - "MODERN DAY" 7": "CAT #: JDR-001 ARTIST: CREAMERS TITLE: Modern Day FORMAT: 7” 'A straight-forward, pissed-off snot rocket fired off from a garage haunte..."

MY MAN GODFREY - PART 2

2011-05-30T12:12:00.000-07:00

Schooley and I gushed over Godfrey Ho like a couple of teenage girls for close to an hour before I realized that I actually owned a handful of his films. None of what I had actually credited Ho as a director, instead citing various pseudonyms Ho had been known to use. The Imperial Entertainment VHS I'd acquired at the Rewind This benefit, "The Ninja Connection," credits York Lam as director. One thing is for certain though: no alias can veil the distinct style of a Godfrey Ho film. It will always be a wildly incoherent affair with lots of inappropriately cast white people. Not only will the story defy deciphering, it will also look like it was shot in the early seventies even if it was produced in the mid-80s. For many reasons, his films look like total shit. Perhaps achieving this faux-dated look is a tremendous credit to Godfrey's genius, as it allows him to seamlessly weave actual old footage in with newer footage without there being any apparent incongruity in quality. Also, Ho's endings are always abrupt. I don't mean anti-climactic, but rather they jump out from behind a rock and slap you in the face. This film in particular concludes with perhaps one of the greatest "what the fuck" moments I have seen in years, and it must be seen to be truly appreciated or even understood.

Once I deduced that I had actual Godfrey Ho tapes on premise, Schooley made pilgrimage to my home with a six pack sacrifice in hand, and we were away in no time. I sit through a lot of stuff in group settings, so I thought it might be fun this time to put Schooley in the seat as guest reviewer. And so, without further adieu, VHS Summer presents John Schooley's encounter with Godfrey Ho's "The Ninja Connection."

THE NINJA CONNECTION (1984)

by John Schooley

Godrey Ho! Who knew? Well, a few people, obviously, what with the detailed Wikipedia entry, the full filmography page on IMDB, and the numerous clips on YouTube. I was obviously late to the party. According to Wikipedia, Ho “has been credited under more than 40 different names during the course of his career” and “is believed to have directed more than one hundred films.” The other night the Alamo Drafthouse screened the rarely seen "Ninja Annihilation War," which is credited to the previously unheard-of Fung Brothers, and which led me to Godfrey Ho. "Ninja Annihilation War" contains the elements that have become associated with Ho, the principle ones being white guy ninjas in brightly colored outfits, and the fact that it appears to consist of random scenes from unrelated movies that have been edited together in no apparent order. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch if "Ninja Annihilation War" turned out to be a lost Ho flick, but it could just as easily be the work of anybody with access to dodgy ninja footage and some rudimentary video editing equipment.

Long story short, seeing this film brought to my attention a previously unglimpsed world of cheaply produced and nonsensical ninja movies. Turns out that Max already had a few Godfrey Ho productions mixed in the massive pile of VHS tapes he has accumulated, and having just been hipped to the man “considered the Ed Wood of Hong Kong cinema” we decided to pop one in the VCR. The selection was "The Ninja Connection," from 1984 and smack in the middle of Ho’s long career. It turns out that "The Ninja Connection" is really a prime example of the insanity and/or idiocy that Godfrey Ho is known for.

I won’t attempt to outline the “plot,” because there isn’t one. Others have already attempted to do so, and the results show what a futile effort it is. I’m pretty sure Mark Twain was referring to Godfrey Ho movies rather than "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" when he stated: “Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.”

The thing that makes "The Ninja Connection" entertaining is the inexplicableness of the whole enterprise. I mean, clearly Ho had seen a movie before, so he must have known that doing things like introducing characters that are then never seen again, or having scenes with no discernable relationship to one another, or to the story as a whole (or even having a story), was, you know, not usually what a director does. And yet, here we are, with characters, storylines, and scenes assembled seemingly at random. Ho’s dictionary is missing a page where the word “continuity” would be found.

And don’t get me started on the dialogue. Even trying to set up a scene enough to give an example presents a foreboding rabbit hole. For example, when the head ninja and his ninja henchmen attempt to escape in what appears to be a run-down Datsun sedan, and get stuck in some loose dirt, and get out to push (mind you, these same ninjas have been seen using near-magical powers to move around in earlier scenes, but are now hampered by loose gravel…), well, they get out to push their piece-of-shit ninjamobile out of the dirt and the good-guy ninja kills one of them. When the head bad-guy ninja notices that one of his henchmen is gone, he exclaims “We’re missing a ninja!” This, friends, is the dialogue.

Was all of this a conscious effort, an actual artistic vision, on Ho’s part? Doubtful. Was he creating something pretentious types could later get away with labeling as “outsider art”? Possibly. Was it just a commercial calculation to crank out anything that could even remotely be called a movie as quickly and cheaply as possible? Definitely.

It may not be outsider art, but it is at least outside the law. Ho had a charming tendency to just take whatever music he wanted for his films, copyright laws be damned, so part of the fun is recognizing what songs got stolen. I don’t have much of an ear for 80’s pop but even I could pick out when Joy Division, Cocteau Twins, and The Human League turned up on the soundtrack, and I’m pretty sure they aren’t getting any sync fees. Hell, Ho even used bits of the score from "Star Wars" in one of the battle scenes. To quote Eugene Chadbourne, “When nobody is paying attention, you can get away with just about anything.”

And that’s just the music – I have no idea how much of the footage in this movie was actually shot by Ho, and how much was just stolen from other films. After a warehouse shoot-out in which the police put a stop to the ninja’s heroin trafficking (did I mention that the ninjas in this movie are HERION DEALERS?), the big climactic tank vs. ninja battle scene in this film (did I mention there was a BATTLE SCENE WITH NINJAS FIGHTING A BUNCH OF TANKS?) had me wondering “How could he get the money to have tanks in this movie, since every other scene looks cheap as shit?” I don’t know what war movie Ho stole the tank footage from, but I felt like a gullible fool for even briefly thinking that anybody would have given him the budget to afford a tank. Upon more careful viewing, I realized that the tanks and the ninjas are never actually seen in the same shot together. Ho took the tank footage, and spliced it in with his own shots of ninjas jumping around cheap explosions (Note: even though they look cheap, I’m still surprised the stuntmen were willing to let a filmmaker like Ho trigger explosions near them. I doubt there was a lot of thought given to safety on the set). The idea of just taking whatever music and film footage you want and using it, without permission and uncredited, in a pastiche of sound and images, makes Ho sound ahead of his time I suppose. Intentional or not, you can’t argue with the hilarity of the end result.

For those of us who don’t have a massive collection of VHS tapes like Max, you’ll be happy to know that Netflix has over twenty Godrey Ho titles available, and a couple of them are even streaming. So far, the others I’ve seen haven’t approached the level of greatness of "The Ninja Connection," but I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of Ho’s output. You can watch the final ten minutes of Ninja Connection right now on Youtube, which should result in some serious reexamination of your preconceived attitudes toward ninjas, tanks, film editing, and the role of coherent narrative in cinema. And, the relationship between ninjas and toads.

MY MAN GODFREY

2011-05-29T12:21:00.000-07:00

With the sun gone down, the concrete beneath my feet began to release an unholy deposit of heat as I trudged toward the South Lamar Alamo Drafthouse. I’ll never understand the people down here who writhe in ecstasy as the hell months return to town. These people illicit the same sort of disgust I also feel toward coprophiliacs. Texas doesn’t have summer. It has Mercury. At this point in the year, I spend most of my time darting from one cold cave to another. Like an Arctic roach, I skittered into the theater lobby and into the sweet relief of pumping air conditioning. After soaking up several cold moments, I stepped up to the man at the counter and ordered tickets for the ten o’ clock screening of “Ninja Annihilation War.” I rarely have reason to movie theaters these days, but tonight’s box office proceeds went to benefit the production of a film titled “Rewind This,” which filmmaker Josh Johnson hopes will become a comprehensive documentary on the topic of the VHS format. This, to me, was without question an event worth supporting.

I saw Josh in the back of the lobby by a merchandise table they’d set up. There, they were selling various VHS-related prints, and with purchase you got a free tape. I decided to dehumidify in the Mondo Tees shop before saying hello, and much to my delight, I found a copy of the recent reissue of Ted Prior’s shot-on-video 1983 slasher “Sledgehammer.” The fine folks at Mondo Tees have announced that they will be re-releasing endeared titles, and this is the first in the series. I’d missed the recent “Sledgehammer” screening due to a work crisis, and all hope of finding a copy had gone out the window since I’d been told the remaining copies had rapidly sold out online. Low and behold, though, they had one copy left.

After that, I made way to the Rewind This table, where I said my hello’s to Josh and briefly scoped the tapes he’d brought. I pretty much lost my shit over a copy of Umberto Lenzi’s “Welcome to Spring Break,” which I hadn’t seen since the USA’S UP ALL NIGHT days. I wound up purchasing one of the prints, and this was the tape I chose. Not many people are very plus’d on this particular Lenzi flick, which kind of baffles me. Originally titled “Nightmare Beach” the story focuses on a spring breaker tangled in a web of murder. The killings are seemingly being carried out by Diablo, a biker gang leader who was executed a few days prior to Spring Break for the murder of a young woman. Of all the arcane bullshit I saw as a kid, Diablo’s motorcycle with the electric chair on the back is an image that remains vivid in my brain. Here’s a trailer. You don’t need to speak Italian to know what the hell is going on, either. Lenzi transcends the language barrier.

On top of that, Josh had also found two flicks on my VHS wish list at a sale, including the 1980 rock n’ roll horror whodunit “Terror On Tour,” as well as 1984’s “Special Effects,” which is one of the few Larry Cohen films I have not seen.

After being seated, Lars and Zack came out and provided some back story on that night’s offering, “Ninja Annihilation War.” Apparently while trolling through the flea markets of post apocalyptic Oxnard, California they happened upon a batch of irregular tapes, which included this title. The duo of drek rescued the “Ninja Annihilation War,” had it transferred, and found the results worthy of a Weird Wednesday. A 2008 screening subsequently stirred a wind which howled of this movie’s greatness, and since then the film has gained a small following. The brain child of mysterious directors, The Fung Brothers, “Ninja Annihilation War” is more like an all-ninja edition of “TV Carnage” than it is an actual film. It is completely incoherent, with one scene feeding into another and none of them tying together to form any sort of story. Still, it’s probably one of the most entertaining movies I’ve seen in a long time. How the film came to be is a mystery, but fans are slowly piecing its history together.

As far as I could tell, this thing mainly consisted of other films I vaguely recognized, with actor Richard Harrison as the main player. During the intro, Lars and Zack actually mentioned that Harrison had said that he wound up only shooting several hours of footage for some ninja movie, which was then edited into a dozen other films without his permission. One of the most hilarious and intriguing insights suggested that he wound up doing some of these movies due to a gambling debt owed to triads. At any rate, some say the slew of Ninja films subdued his career. However, I tend to think it was low times which brought him to this genre instead.

I was dazed after the screening and wearing a terminal grin. Before I left, I grabbed one more tape from the Rewind This table. On a Ninja high, I let the spirit of the event guide my decision by selecting “Ninja Connection,” which turned out to be a fateful choice.

A few days later, I got a call from a good friend of mine, John Schooley, who’d also attended the screening of “Ninja Annihilation War.” One of very few people permitted into my social circle, Schooley has indulged and encouraged my interest in gonzo action and martial arts cinema over the years. Most people who know Schooley would find this odd since those who know him hold the consensus that he pretty much hates everything modern cinema and music has to offer. His intellect acts like a fat blocker would, buffering out the majority of insincere commercial garbage that the vast majority roaringly approves. Schooley’s not a snob, though. He will sit in the same room I do and watch something like “Hollywood Cop” and appreciate it as simple entertainment. He will suck up every flawed nuance with a chuckle and cheer every explosion. The more nonsensical the physics behind the detonation, the happier he actually is. The average film audience is less likely to identify a truly bad film. Most people patronize bad direction glowingly because they’re no longer able to recognize it. It’s taken the film industry many decades to create a film goer that is incapable of discerning whether something is fundamentally bad or not. Most people determine what is good or bad based on very obvious visual errors in a film. They will lap up the average blockbuster with relish no matter how bland it is, because that’s what they’ve been trained to do. Put them in front of something with lesser production value, and they’ll rip it to shreds, no matter the depth of imagination or how fresh the approach. This is a clear demonstration of the inherent classist attitude mass audiences have developed over the years, thanks largely to the industry’s dominance of theaters. As a result, people have been trained to think that if it’s cheap it cannot possibly be good. Schooley is far removed from this breed of film fan. He is skeptical, but not cynical, toward the film with the megabudget, and is always willing to give the underdog a chance. He can extract the fun from b-to-z grade action flicks, and I relate to that.

I hadn’t seen Schooley arrive at the “Ninja Annihilation War” screening, but I KNEW he was in the theater and enjoying himself due to his distinct laugh. The next day, he spent some time reading about the film, which led to the discovery of his new favorite director, Godfrey Ho. According to what he’d read, many Ho-related films make up the body of “Ninja Annihilation War.”

Ho’s roots go way back to the Shaw Brothers studio of the early seventies, and he has since had his hand in well over a hundred films – most of which feature Caucasians playing ninjas in remarkably gaudy outfits that seem vomit in the face of stealth. Once the 90s hit, the Ninja trend was on the wane, and Godfrey hopped on the Muay Thai zeitgeist following the phenomenal success the 1989 Jean-Claude Van Damme film “Kickboxer,” producing such cult classics as “Robo-Kickboxer: Power of Justice,” and “Kickboxer from Hell.”

Godfrey had a unique, if not entirely economical way of making films, too, which involved heavily recycling and re-cutting footage from his own films as well as others he’d acquired. An excerpt from Ho’s Wikipedia page:

“Through the 1980s and early 1990s Ho has created a series of martial arts films made with a "cut-and-paste" technique, which means they were created with the help of splicing various unrelated material (including the recurring motif of absurd ninja-fighting scenes, often with little or no connection with the already disjointed plot) and dubbed more-or-less together. He would film footage for one micro-budget picture, and then edit and splice the shots together in a different order, adding in footage from the various obscure or unreleased HK, Thai, Filipino and other Asian movies (martial arts films, crime films, comedies, etc.) to fill the gaps, and then dubbing over the result to create a final product. This allowed him to create several Z movies with the budget of one, though it is often difficult to discern how much of the finished product he has actually filmed himself.”

While talking to Schooley, I brought up Ho’s IMDd page. Bells rang as I realized I owned a handful of the director’s films on VHS already, most of which were directed under various pseudonyms. One particular title I’d had for a while was “Ninja Terminator,” which led me to Nico Giroldi’s fantastic Golden Ninja Warrior Chronicles blog. It was there that I found an article on the Golden Ninja Warrior series, produced by IFD Films & Arts, a subsidiary of ASSO Asia Film – a company Ho had started with partner Joseph Lai and Betty Chan.

Combing through the list, Schooley and I were both excited to learn that Ho was also responsible for “Ninja Connection,” the tape I’d just scored at the “Ninja Annihilation War” screening. There was something drug like about what we’d been subjected to at the Alamo just a few nights ago, and we were jonesing to bend our mind around more Ho-ish Ninja mash. And so, several hours later, Schooley was knocking at my door with a six pack of beer, ready to once again enter the frenetic world of Ho.

TO BE CONTINUED…

VHS SUMMER PRESENTS: TANYA'S ISLAND (1980) with NEVER TOO YOUNG TO DIE (1986)

2011-05-21T10:10:00.000-07:00

This Sunday, March 22^nd, the VHS SUMMER series continues at the Beerland Venue in Austin, Texas with a tribute to former Prince protégé, Vanity.

Most remember Vanity as front woman of the sexually provocative pop group, Vanity 6, which quickly rose to fame with Prince-composed songs such as "Nasty Girl." At he apex of their popularity, Vanity left the group and went on to do a lot of irrational things, such as "The Last Dragon," Nikki Sixx, and shit tons of crack. She was also a part of the New Motown label, a Motown reboot which Berry Gordy refuses to acknowledge for some reason. Seriously, I went to the Motown Museum in Detroit about ten years ago, and while on the tour I noticed a darkened corner full of DeBarge cut outs. The guide deliberately steered us away from the corner, so I asked her about the blacked out exhibit. She rolled her eyes and replied, "Oh, that's all that New Motown stuff. Mr. Gordy don't like us to talk about that no more."

In the mid-90s, Vanity nearly succumbed to a drug overdose, but apparently Jesus intervened and told her if she renounced the Vanity persona that she would be spared. She has since distanced herself from her days as Vanity, and gone on to become an evangelist. She's also written a biography entitled "Blame It On Vanity," which is probably just a bunch of inspirational ministry crap instead of stuff about naked, coked up Satanic bonfire rituals at Nikki Sixx's mansion. But still, if you're morbidly curious you can order the book from her website.

Fortunately we're not celebrating the reborn Denise Matthews this Sunday. Instead, we'll be getting down with the original nasty girl herself! First, we’ll be screening the incredibly strange “Tanya’s Island,” an early film for Matthews, wherein she was billed as DD Winters. I’m not even going to pretend to know what the fuck is going on in this movie, but the majority of the film seems to be mere fantasy inspired by Tanya’s volatile relationship with her painter prick boyfriend. Set against the beaches and jungles of a deserted tropic paradise, Vanity spends the majority of the film being violently naked and bickering with her boyfriend, Lobo, whose immature antics drive her into the company of a gentle gorilla she names Blue. Eventually, Lobo happens upon Tanya with her tender ape friend, which sparks a jealousy-fueled feud between the male counter parts which nearly destroys Tanya. The ending is both disturbing and unintentionally hilarious, and will probably haunt you for all your remaining days. Overall, a failed attempt at cerebral eroticism that still manages to be compelling. Also notable for featuring makeup by Rob Bottin and Academy Award Winner Rick Baker.

After that, we’ll be showing “Never To Young To Die,” starring Vanity, John Stamos, and Gene Simmons. Best Bond ever George Lazenby and Robert Englund also enhance the cast. Here, Stamos plays Stargrove, a budding gymnast (yes!) investigating the untimely death of his father, which ultimately leads him to uncover transvestite Gene Simmons’ dastardly terrorist plot to contaminate a reservoir. It’s up to Stargrove, with the expert aid of agent Vanity to help him keep our drinking water safe! This truly insane espionage action thriller cannot be missed!

The doors open at 8:30pm, and “Tanya’s Island” will starts at around 9pm, with “Never To Young To Die” following shortly afterward. Hope to see you there!

REST IN PEACE RANDALL MARIO POFFO (1952 - 2011)

2011-05-20T12:59:00.000-07:00

As a kid, one of the most influential men in my life was my uncle Kevin. I'm pretty sure he was sort of a family outcast, but no one would ever call him a black sheep to his face because if you did he'd probably knock your wind pipe out with a round house kick. By some strange grace, I found myself spending a lot of time at Kevin's house as a kid. The walls were cured with weed smoke, as Kevin was a chronic smoker. His sanctum was plastered with ads for Budweiser, large photographs of the Three Stooges, and Bruce Lee. One of the most coveted items in his house was a large three stooges rug he hung over a window to keep the light out. There are few true men I have ever met in my life, and Kevin was one of them. He liked beer, martial arts, kicking the shit out of dudes, reggae, pro-wrestling, weed, and his dog. For me, his home was a portal into the realm of counter culture, and the time I spent with him made me the man I am today.

When I was about ten, Kevin bestowed upon me a slim package. When I opened the envelope up, I discovered a bundle of black and white photos from the 70s. My uncle spent a lot of time at the Ventura county fair grounds going to wrestling shows as a kid, and it was there he'd collected photos of the great stars from that period. Most of the photos were even autographed, and included the likes of Freddie Blassie, El Santo, Pantera Negra, Don Carson, Mil Mascaras, Suni Warcloud, Man Mountain Mike, and many more. There was even an NWA program from one of the shows he had attended. Now, these photos hang on stairwell wall in my home as a tribute to both Kevin and the keen interest in the art of professional wrestling they sparked. After I got those photos, watching WWF at my uncle's house was always a far more profound experience than it had been.

I would frequently watch WWF at my uncle's house on weekends. The man who captured my imagination more than any other was Randy "Macho Man" Savage. Even though he most often wrestled as a heel, I thought he was one of the coolest guys I'd ever seen. No matter what he did, he captivated. One of my most vivid childhood memories was the thrill and concern I had when Savage knocked Ricky Steamboat's wind pipe out, which eventually lead to one of the most legendary and quality feuds in pro-wrestling history. As I got older, I became a much savvier fan, and I lost a lot of love for the guys I used to cheer for. While I used to mark out for Hulk Hogan, I eventually began to see him as cheesy and one-dimensional in the ring. On the other hand, my appreciation for Savage only deepened, as I began to really appreciate how dynamic and dramatic his in-ring performances were.

When revisiting things I used to revere in my childhood, I'm often disappointed. What Randy Savage accomplished on the other hand has only gotten better and more profound as I've gotten older.

Today, I was deeply saddened to hear of Randy's death. Randy was no longer an in-ring performer, but his legacy continues to impress each new generation of pro-wrestler. There is no such thing as a great performer who didn't take some thing away from what Randy did. Any time a great story is being told in the ring, Randy lives. He could weave a tale like no other. I can only hope Randy has been reunited by father Angelo today. Godspeed, Randy. Watching you made me feel like a kid no matter how old I was. No words can do justice the honor you did us any time you graced us with your presence.

Truly, one of the best wrestlers of all time. One of the best talkers of all time. One of the best of all time. Period.

OMEGA COP (1990)

2011-05-16T06:32:00.000-07:00

You know, if I had bought this back in 1990, I could have gotten 500 bags with my order. That's 500 hookers I could have suffocated by now.

Special thanks to ActionPackedCinema for the trailer.

A DRUG CALLED VHS

2011-05-11T16:07:00.000-07:00

"Christened in blood. Raised in sin. She's sweet sixteen. Let the party begin."

There are dark days when the stupidity of others is so fantastic that I am must fight the overwhelming urge to drug people and then drop a cinder block on their fucking faces while they're passed out. Today was particularly black, and my jaw was really grinding as I made way to my mail box. My mood lightened a bit when I saw there was a package that could only be a tape waiting for me. After a few snips and a couple ginger rips, my mood melted away as I held in my hands a VCI copy of the 1977 supernatural horror flick "Ruby," starring Piper Laurie.

I was first made aware of this film through an old VHS copy of "Kingdom of the Spiders," which contained a block of odd ball seventies horror trailers, including "The Demon," "The Night Visitor," and several others. For years, I would show these trailers to friends and even tack them onto Drive-In style VHS mixes for friends. In fact, that block of ads was probably one of the strongest motivators behind my interest in collecting tapes since at the time a lot of that stuff hadn't yet been released on DVD. Every time I'd buy a vintage tape, it would yield several more trailers for stuff I'd never heard of, which I'd then go track down, watch, and wind up adoring. And of course, there were also more trailers that fed into the cycle.

The following trailer is for a film titled "The Captive Female" (1974), but my tape also included a far more outrageous ad for the same film, only with the title "Scream Bloody Murder." It also opens with the same narrator, introducing Matthew as a "quiet boy. A nice boy. With only one ambition in life. To commit BRUTAL MURDER." The ad concludes by stating that it's the first film to be labeled "GORENOGRAPHY," and ends with a graphic that says "COMING TOO SOON."

The trailer for "Ruby" was on there, too, and I absolutely went nuts for the tagline.

I have not seen this film in years, and for some reason had never bothered to seek out a copy until very recently. This is an ex-rental, so the box is a little chewed up, but the tape itself is in great shape -- one of those old jobs that's so heavy you could probably drop a bird with it at twelve paces. Super happy to have this one, and I'm now drinking out of joy rather than anger! Yay!

BLIND FEAR (1989)

2011-05-11T15:50:00.000-07:00

The Academy Entertainment tradition of late wave Canadian noir continues in this middle-of-the-road “Home Alone”-esque thriller, starring Shelley Hack (Charlie’s Angels) as a blind woman trapped in an Inn with a trio of armored car thieves. While the premise holds a ton of promise, the author of “Blind Fear” does not seem to understand that it takes more than the sheer goodness of a concept in order for a movie to succeed. The ending is kind of cool, and some of the action beats soundly, but the sum of dull filler by far outweighs all that. After watching Hack stumble around in the dark and knock shit over for a collective forty five minutes, what eventual good there doesn’t even matter. It’s kind of like when you’re banging some really hot chick and all she doesn’t think she really has to move or anything because she’s already made herself available, and so her work there is done. The anticipation her Aphrodite like beauty has built winds up being a totally awful experience, and once the nicotine has cleared and she’s gone home, all you have is disappointment and the hollow realization that your last internet porn session was somehow more gratifying. So, while “Blind Fear” might have some attractive components, you can’t expect an audience to make due on simple ideas. There must be meat as well as motion.

Hack plays Erika Breen, the blind switch board operator of a rustic hotel that’s just been bought out, leaving her displaced and without a job. On the eve of the purchase, Erika finds herself stranded at the Inn when her cousin calls to tell her that he won’t be able to pick her up until the next afternoon. Boozy German ground’s keeper Lasky (Jan Rubes) refuses to leave her alone in the old, forsaken building and insists on keeping her company. Shortly after Lasky orders a pizza, kill-crazy stick-up man Ed and his accomplices crash the party. Erika keeps out of sight, and the invaders, who’ve just knocked over an armored car, decide use the hotel for cover while awaiting their mysterious benefactor, Heinneman (Géza Kovács). So, the pizza finally arrives, and in a plot detail that’s so stupid it might be genius Ed deduces there must be someone else in the Hotel because half of the pizza does not have any anchovies, because “not everyone likes anchovies.” A storm rolls in, and the band of back biting thieves grow more paranoid toward one another during their search for Erika, who uses her familiarity with the property along with her heightened senses to depose of the criminals. The second half of the film also finally manages to evoke some sort of atmosphere, as the first portion is completely bereft of vibe. Eventually, the bad guys are done away with, and we’re treated to a nice plot twist that answers some questions while leaving a few others open.

There are some competent and creative people on board this production, but there are other elements that completely sabotage anything that might remotely resemble quality. The film is primarily confined to the hotel, and the sets look good, but then composer Michael Melvoin drags us back to B-grade reality with a crushingly bad synth score. I begin to list the multitude of B-films from this period that would have come across more impressively if they had either a more organic score, or no music at all. There are some decent performances here in spite of the fact that the cast are fed a mediocre script. In particular, the charismatic Kim Coates shines like a proto-Elijah Wood in the role of Ed. Hack, too, is convincing as the bumbling blind Breen. Perhaps the best thing about the movie, though, is the creative use of lighting. However, the fact that Academy recorded this in EP mode reduces what is actually ambient, nuanced light to mere dimness. All of this is compounded by some awkwardly abrupt edits toward the film's last quarter.

And of course, I cannot end this review without touching upon the box. Another great hack job by the artistically impaired marketing goofs at Academy. First off, none of the people on the cover are actually in this movie. The chick on the box is actually way finer than Shelley Hack and about ten years younger to boot. Also, I love that she is wearing tinted glasses, because all blind people wear that shit while tapping the ground with their white cane. And second, the tag line – not exactly accurate: “She’s blind. She’s Beautiful. She thinks she’s alone.” Alright, yeah, she’s blind. I’ll even let you have beautiful. But at no point does she ever think she’s alone. That’s just bullshit. Seriously, it says a lot when the dude who comes up with your taglines hasn’t seen the movie.

THE CHILDREN (1980)

2011-04-30T12:21:00.001-07:00

I can say for certain that this movie is not a piece of shit. It’s something much worse, because even feces have a biology and purpose that make sense. Sitting through “The Children” is a lot like being present for a birthing gone bad. At first the head crowns and all the promise that comes with first sight brings you joy. Then comes the arms. You count the fingers and everything seems to add up. Then with one last big push, your heart sinks as the midsection passes to reveal a complete lack of legs and genitals. Your heart is broken. The doctor doesn’t even bother to ask if you’d like to cut the chord, because there is no honor in such ceremony. Following the delivery’s twisted, mangled end, there is only regret and a sense of loss. Fortunately, in the instance of a movie, you can always hit rewind after the disappointing finale.

I’ve met a lot of people who love "The Children," and most credit nostalgia for their affection toward it. Somehow this one slipped by me as a kid, so I went into it without the disadvantage of fond childhood memories to fog up my perception. Certainly, even if you’ve never seen it, the film’s dated presence has a pang of familiarity, but the fashion and décor are overwhelmed by its uneventfulness. People have defended “The Children” as a totally campy exploit, and I would agree. It’s campy in some parts, while other stretches are infuriatingly blank.

The beginning of the film is so promising that one can forgive some of the more absurd initial details. Lazy technicians at a local power plant near the backwater town of Ravensback half ass it through a repair, because, fuck it man, it’s the weekend. From there, we join a brood of saccharine little shits on a traditional yellow school bus, hailing their driver through traditional song. All seems bright and sunny. But just ahead, an orange haze engulfs the road, and before the driver can break, the bus plunges deep into the bizarre cloud bank.

Shortly after, Sheriff Billy Hart discovers the bus on the side of the road without any sign of the children in sight. From here, we’re introduced to the strangely unconcerned asshole parents of the missing kids, most of whom seem too sophisticated to be caught dead in some hick berg. Particularly hilarious is the topless sunbathing mom and her oiled up male companion, who are actually titillated by the prospect of their daughter’s disappearance. This is where the “The Children” drops the ball big time. We meet a bevy of compelling, if not downright bizarre characters, and they don’t do shit with them! Some of them don't even get a proper death scene. Instead, their corpses just get tripped over later on. Inexplicably, the least interesting of the parents, played by Martin Shakar, whom most will recognize as Frank the priest from “Saturday Night Fever,” takes center stage for the bulk of the flick.

Eventually, the children reappear with black fingernails and a lethal hug that sears the recipient to death. Conceptually, the story has potential, and the imagery of these kids with their arms outstretched is enjoyably creepy and effective. Once again, though, the script fails to capitalize on something that is initially very interesting. We know what caused the mutation, sure, but their compulsion to kill is never fully explained. I routinely have people telling me that I often take movies like this way too seriously. To them, I say, “go fuck yourself.” I don't take anything "too seriously." I actually respect and appreciate films of this nature. I genuinely find them to be creative and exciting. I'm not here to goof on them and I don't respect people who do. It's not that I take them too seriously, it's that most people just don't care enough. I wanted to know why the fuck these kids were killing people. That Stephen King brand "just because" bullshit doesn't cut it for me!

A lot of the people defend "The Children" by tossing the camp mantle over it. While this movie is definitely campy, it’s also pretty fucking bad. There’s a big difference. Just because something is bad does not qualify it as camp. It is a very rare occasion for me that a film gets over based on its flaws. I can only think of about four examples off the top of my head. There are different kinds of ways you can fuck up a movie. For example, I personally believe that movies where you can see the boom mic should be a legitimate genre of film. I eat that shit up. In fact, I find technical flaws to be both redeeming and endearing. Then there are various ways you can fail creatively, which are far less forgivable. Bad acting I can get into. Absurd plots are fine. "The Children" has some amusingly bad parts to it, and it’s definitely campy, but the cardinal sin which I cannot forgive a film of this nature for is being boring. “The Children” lays out a banquet of wonderful ideas and characters, but then it just turns out the light and walks out of the fucking room before we can get more than a taste. It leaves us in the dark, literally almost.

The second half of the film features the protagonists running from one poorly lit location to another, and then back again REPEATEDLY. And once the sun goes down, forget about it. The crew on this motherfucker couldn't light a Christmas tree with a can of gasoline and a flame thrower. So, everyone is running in circles doing jack shit because it's too dark to see anything. Enter composer Harry Manfredini, who ratchets up the monotony to a Waco-like assault with a horribly lazy score that lifts a few cues from his work on “Friday the 13th.” Some people insist that the selections are slightly reworked, but that's being generous. He literally sampled the "Friday the 13th" score and LOOPS what little he did take throughout the film. It's obnoxious. Listen to this clip. If you disagree with me then you are deaf. Enjoy your prime parking, asshole.

Sure, there are laughable parts, and yes, there is some stale sense of nostalgia, but the overwhelming bulk of the mix is made up of missing time. Even if the initial ideas are great, they just don’t go anywhere. Like a retard with a magnificent boner, the erection ultimately turns into a flaccid nonevent. And that's what this movie is: a big, limp dick.

Oh Vestron, I can't stay mad at you.

Despite terminal dullness, the ending is decent because it manages to tie one loose end up. SPOILER: The movie concludes with survivor Cathy Freemont giving birth to her baby. The child is seemingly healthy, but her husband’s initial look of joy shifts to that of horror when he notices the breast-feeding infant’s nails are black, indicating that it’s become one of the monster children somehow. I watched this movie in a group setting, and those around me groaned at what they dismissed as a nonsensical cliff hanger. It didn’t seem anyone understood exactly how the child in the womb turned bad, but to me it made perfect sense. At the beginning of the movie, while the children are all singing on the bus prior to their encounter with the toxic cloud, Cathy Freemont pulls AROUND the bus and waves while passing them. The driver waves back, and Cathy disappears ahead of them. Though we never see it, we should presume that Cathy encountered the same cloud that caught the bus, thus infecting her baby. This is one redeeming detail, but still not enough to excuse all the other wasted opportunities throughout the film. Alcohol and asshole friends are required to get through this one.

I'D DIE ON THE CROSS FOR A CADBURY EGG RIGHT ABOUT NOW

2011-04-22T09:15:00.000-07:00

For those that have noticed that my output here has been slow for the last couple of months, I apologize. Time has grown scarce as a number of the projects I have undertaken are starting to take off and require a lot more focus and energy. I'm going to try to at least keep posting any new arrivals I get going forward so this thing doesn't just dry up. I figured today would be a great time to start as I received an Easter package in the mail this morning containing some pretty rad stuff.

BLOOD DINER (1987)

Atmosphere and humor are in proportion to gore in this splendid horror comedy. Cannibal brothers Michael and George slice and dice their way through various women in order to reconstruct an Egyptian deity. The parts they don't use wind up on the menu at their diner. I'd been struggling to find a reasonably priced copy that didn't have much wear, so I was stoked to find this gifted tape in pristine, shrink-wrapped condition.

BLOOD SCREAMS (1988)

I was very happy to find a copy of the Warner Brothers release of this Mexican horror at the bottom of the box. Though I've never actually seen this film, I've lost plenty of bids on it in the past. The story apparently has something to do with a haunted monastery, where some monks were forced to leap to their death by a greedy land baron. Outsiders enter the town on a quest to uncover their past. The disappearance of locals seems to coincidence with their arrival, which doesn't endear them to the town's folk. Starring Russ Tamblyn, a sign of quality. Couldn't find a trailer, so here's the first few minutes of the film.

LEGEND OF THE WOLF WOMAN (1976)

I actually already had a copy of this United Home Video clamshell release, but fuck it, I'll take another one. This is one of my most prized tapes, and it's always wonderful to have a backup. If you have not seen this film, I urge you to find a copy on any format. Two words: wolf tits.

DEATH SHIP (1980)

Stoked beyond words to finally get my hands on a copy of this Embassy release. After a luxury liner collides with a phantom ship, only a handful of its guests survive. Drifting on a life boat, they once again encounter a mysterious ghost ship, and have no other option than to board. Eventually, we learn that it is a Nazi ship, haunted by a nefarious presence intent on killing those it encounters. People cheap shot this one a lot. Nevertheless, great plot, genuinely strong atmosphere, and a wonderful cast, including George Kennedy and Richard Crenna, make it a buoyant affair.

TO CATCH A KILLER (1992)

This made-for-TV movie which details the activities and apprehension of serial killer John Wayne Gacy has some outrageously creepy moments, mainly thanks to the naturally intimidating Brian Dennehy. The large and rugged Dennehy was an unlikely choice to play the curmudgeonly boy killer, but the slight revision of Gacy's stature probably makes the story FEEL more accurate. The scene in his den with the rope trick is particularly must see. At some point, Dennehy was actually contacted by Gacy regarding the film. Whether or not Gacy actually saw the film, I'm not too sure. But via letter, he wrote to Mr. Dennehy the following comment: "Sorry you would participate in this fraud [the film]. You've always been one of my favorite actors. As for the 33 bodies that were discovered, lots of people had access to that crawlspace."

ONE MAN FORCE (1989)

2011-04-17T12:42:00.000-07:00

It is a sad fashion that the average slob will feign ignorance while stepping over a body near death splayed across the sidewalk. Similarly, with too brief a glance, the IMDb-empowered casual viewer tends to clod hope over movies like “One Man Force” with a groan, as if they were dehydrated dog shit. The difference between hearing and listening is a level of comprehension. It’s also what separates seeing something from watching something. Most who merely see this film write it off as b-par eighties action crap. Those who actually pay attention to it see past the shape to find a bejeweled hunk of gold that only looks like a turd. This is not by text book definition a good movie. Instead, you have a busy constellation of bizarre details that make up a compelling experience, which can be just as rewarding as a anything the critics will tell you is wonderful.

This movie falls under the Action sub-category of renegade cop, and the bare bones of the setup are painfully cliché. A detective goes on an emotionally charged crusade to avenge the death of his partner, and winds up alienating his superiors, who revoke his badge. It’s been done into the high triple digits at this point. What makes “One Man Force” unique though, is that it’s kind of like an issue of Marvel Comics “What If…?”

When you first get a load of dashing Sam Jones (Flash Gordon) alongside lumbering ex-Raider John Matuszak, the roles seem fairly obvious. In any other movie, Jones would be the most likely candidate to go off the rail when his less charismatic, oafish partner gets whacked. But convention be damned as Jones gets the bullet that typically would wind up in the dopey partner's head. From here, Matuszak becomes the central character and goes into berserker revenge mode. Essentially, the creators of this film have unwittingly gouged the surface of an amazing gimmick.

Most would struggle to place John Matusazk’s name or face, but he's probably best known for playing Chunk’s disfigured sidekick Sloth in "The Goonies." In stature he is a remarkable specimen, but otherwise he’s an unkempt void of charisma trapped in a track suit; kind of like a shittier Lyle Alzado. Matuszak is the kind of guy whom you’d expect to be relegated to the supporting role of silent brute or Bond-ish henchman. But there is a certain genius in casting him as the main protagonist, mainly because no other leading men out there are physically capable of killing someone with a Pepsi machine. He takes being a capable tough guy to an almost surreal level.

At the same time Matuszak’s partner is gunned down by a South American drug cartel, terrorists abduct a rock singer, played by Stacey Q. Both of these situations entwine to create a plot that manages to be both stupid and convoluted. Meanwhile, Ronny Cox continues to be typecast as the dickhead superior officer struggling to keep Matuszak in line. The production is lined with a fantastic cast, including Charles Napier as a crooked cop, the phenomenal Robert Tessier ("The Longest Yard," "The Born Losers") as a hard hitting nemesis, and skull-faced Richard Lynch as the plot’s ultimate puppet master, but most of these names are virtually squandered due to the busy plot.

The editing kicks the pace up to break-neck speed, and I suspect a lot of stuff that would help the movie make more sense probably wound up casualties to time constraints. The order in which some sequences are cut is almost nonsensical at times. The film’s subplot, where Matuszak teaches his dead partner’s son how to defend himself against some neighborhood pot dealers, is violently shoehorned into what is already a tightly coiled mess. It’s completely pointless, but the upside is that it compounds the movie’s enjoyable strangeness. The action sequences are not only genuinely well done, but innovative as well. The brawl in the fetish bar in particular is one of the film’s many high points.

A validating entry in the Academy Entertainment catalog, this is certainly one of the best films they distributed, deserving the appreciation of over-the-top eighties action aficionados. Must see!

Thanks to Action Packed Cinema for the trailer.

A sad footnote, John Matuszak died of heart failure the year this movie was released. An autopsy revealed that he had both painkillers and cocaine in his system at the time of death, and was also suffering from pneumonia.

SCREAM FOR HELP (1984)

2011-03-26T07:49:00.000-07:00

The moment this tape arrived I embarked on a bi-polar coaster ride for over a week before actually inserting it into my VCR. I was initially apprehensive because “Scream For Help” was an unlikely marriage of talents. Not that writer Tom Holland and director Michael Winner are diametrically opposed in terms of what they do. Both are responsible for some of my favorite films of all time. In fact, I’d categorize this pairing as a ferocious dream team. Unfortunately, in my experience, collaborations between two strong and talented personalities usually results in a big, fat let down.

Holland wrote some of my favorite films of all time, including “Class of 1984,” “Cloak & Dagger,” and “The Beast Within.” He also wrote and directed the phenomenal “Fright Night,” as well as “Child’s Play.” The man also has cajones forged from the magma of a netherworld volcano for tackling the intimidating task of penning “Psycho II.” As a screenwriter, I’ve often ponder what it must have been like to have been handed the job of writing a legitimate sequel to what is considered by most to be one of the greatest movies of all time. Going into that project, you had to know there was no way you were going to win. Even if you wrote something that managed to supersede the original, no one would ever admit it out of reverence for the original. People were going to be predisposed to bashing it. Ultimately, Holland wound up creating a respectable sequel. On the other hand, Michael Winner directed, what is in my opinion, one of the greatest movies ever made, “Death Wish 3.” As I mentioned before, sometimes you combine two ultimate badasses and they crack horns ‘til their both drunk, or cancel each other out, and the results are tepid. That's sort of what I was expecting here, because this pairing is like the cinematic equivalent of mana.

You can call “Scream For Help” a success, but it doesn’t come near the sort of artistic achievement most typical people demand before calling a film “great." The dialog here broadsides out of left, frequently veering into unintentionally hilarious territory. The acting has the sort of speech fluidity you only hear on a “Learn To Speak English” tape. The score by Led Zeppelin’s John Paul Jones comes in tacky, jarring slabs. In fact most will notice that some of the later music cues wound up being used in Jimmy Page’s “Death Wish 3” score. The story itself feels like a compacted season of a soap opera, amplifying its outrageousness. All of these things combine to form a truly entertaining and engaging film. You'd have to have a petrified branch up your ass to not have fun while watching this.

Predating “The Stepfather” by several years, the story begins with a narrative by young Christie Cromwell who is convinced that her mother’s new husband, Paul Fox, is out to get them both. The opening moments of the film harkens to the spirit of innocent William Castle brand fun, ala “Thirteen Frightened Girls!,” but they eventually dump a wild bouquet of vulgarity, blood, tits, and sleazy sex into the mix that occasionally catches you off guard.

The accidental death of a maintenance man arouses Christie’s suspicion in her stepfather. She believes the fatal scenario was intended to claim the life of her mother. Christie decides to shadow Paul and soon uncovers an extramarital affair. Her friends eventually become entangled in her quest for proof, with lethal results. Here’s one of my favorite scenes from the film.

Fucking awesome!

Eventually, Christie convinces her mother of Paul’s infidelity with a little photographic proof. Soon after, Paul and his gang of homicidal conspirators invade the Cromwell mansion with a plot to kill mother and daughter and make it look like a burglary gone bad. The film has an ironic twist, as Christie defends her mother and bumps off the goons using a batch of methods derived from Paul’s earlier failed murder attempts.

Mince chunks of "Square Pegs," "Dallas," early "Dark Shadows," and cut the intensity of “Fight For Your Life” with the suave noir of “The Desperate Hours” all together and you wind up with "Scream For Help." In spite of its loud, over the top qualities, the movie remains relatively obscure. Some feel that the tape's blase packaging effectively camouflages and discouraged most people from picking it up. Don’t let this ordinary looking box detour you, though. Inside this pale looking clamshell exists a wild piece of microwaved trash that stands up to repeated viewings. A super-fun must-own tape for any collector. As a collaborative effort between two heavyweights, it definitely lives up to whatever expectation you might build up in your mind before hand, which makes this movie all the more exceptional.