The Day Hollywood Stood Still

Gort vs gun crime: We review 70s revenge thriller Handgun

2013-05-20T12:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's log, Stardate 20052013.2:

The Mothership was a mess. Finally managing to flag down Commander Wiseau, who happened to be passing, we had made our escape from the uninhabited planetoid where we'd been left by our hyper-intelligent simian Judas. When we made it home, we found our ship being ransacked by a horde of rampaging monkeys that our nemesis had created to back him up. When I confronted the original monkey, I was rather confused when he began talking.

"Greetings, Commander. Welcome home - my home. At last, I shall have my revenge," the monkey said in what sounded much like Commander Walter's voice. "Yes, it is I. Your robotic manservant took some shortcuts to creating this super-ape. He used my brain as a template for the clone and now I have a monkey army."

"I have a Gort," I replied as Gort powered up his disintegrator beam.

While most rape revenge thrillers are a thinly-veiled excuse to revel in misogynistic violence and sadism, Handgun - also known as Deep In The Heart - is a refreshing change from movies like Straw Dogs and The Last House On The Left. Straw Dogs famously appears to show Dustin Hoffman's wife growing to enjoy her gang rape. On the other hand, we've refused to review the original Last House On The Left in the past as we find it hard to stomach.

Danger! Danger Gort Fan! Spoilers detected!

We're normally ones to defend exploitation movies as harmless catharsis, but Wes Craven's debut has a nasty edge to it. Its gang of roaming rapists are displayed almost sympathetically, even providing comic relief, and the final revenge pay off only comes when the victim's parents off the villains, long after their poor daughter's been tortured to death. Handgun is different.

A young schoolteacher moves to Texas and is introduced to a despicable bigot who spends most of his time quoting statistics to justify the use of handguns as a "peacemaker", eulogising the Old West as somewhere that real men settled their differences with shootouts. For some reason, our left-wing heroine decides that dating this guy is "fun", despite sensibly having no intention of actually being with him. After a few rejections, the charming fellow whips out a handgun and decides no means make me.

"We're so pleasantly surprised by the anti-gun, anti-violence, anti-rape message of this unique revenge thriller that we can't help but recommend it."

After being kept hostage for the night and raped twice, the schoolteacher goes directly to the police, but is told there isn't enough evidence to prove this was rape. Devastated, she cuts off all her hair and shuns her friends, but ultimately decides to take her rapist's advice. She joins his gun club and spends every spare minute training in the use of handguns and knives, before luring him to an isolated location and challenging him to a gun fight.

This synopsis makes the movie sound much more exciting than it actually is. Occasionally, its documentary style comes across like a public information film and the script and the acting are terrible throughout. Some of the lines would probably have turned out better if the crew had walked up to random people in the street and asked them to improvise dialogue. Nor is there anything here for gorehounds as this is about the tamest 18-rated movie we've ever seen. Nevertheless, we were so pleasantly surprised by the anti-gun, anti-violence, anti-rape message of this unique revenge thriller that we can't help but recommend it, if only as an antidote when torture porn gets too much.

Handgun is re-released on DVD today.

Gort vs Tim Roth: We review new UK crime thriller The Liability

2013-05-16T12:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's log, Stardate 16052013.2:

We loaded our super-intelligent ape friend into a shuttle, offering him 20 bananas if he'd fly us to an uninhabited planet nearby. When we arrived, we suggested he bury some "private items" for us - namely some pirated DVDs we no longer needed. The plan was, once he was involved in the task, we'd kosh him on the head and fly off home, leaving us back at a crew of two.

It seemed like a foolproof plan. As such, I'm still not sure why I'm now recording this from the surface of said planet while I watch the ape fly off in our shuttle... with me wearing nothing but my underwear...

"He is super-intelligent..."

Shut up, Gort.

The Liability is essentially a British retread of Collateral. An amoral hitman pressgangs an everyman into driving him between hits and the two form a strained bond. Of course, Kent is never going to quite match NYC for grittiness or stylishness, so The Liability takes the same route previous UK attempts to compete on Hollywood's home turf like Severance and Hot Fuzz did. If there are just two things England does perfectly, it's knowing humour and great performances.

Our everyman here is a layabout chav, spending his days playing Call of Duty and scoffing Twix in one gulp. His dodgy step-dad decides it's time for him to learn a trade and sends him out to drive the mighty Tim Roth's ageing assassin to his next job. Once the duo fall foul of St Trinian's Talulah Riley, however, our anti-hero discovers that the target may not be who he thought it was.

We'd watch Roth (or Riley in a see-through shirt and no bra) in anything.

While The Liability has some similarities to new-lad cinema such as Paul Tanter, Noel Clarke or Danny Dyer's movies, it's a much more old-fashioned beast at heart. Make no mistake, the film moves slowly, unravelling inch by inch during long, uneventful scenes of motorway travel. When it speeds up, the film actually manages to exude its own quirky style and it works very well - such as a particularly appealing and amusing bag drop in a diner car park, one of the few scenes with background music - however, the movie is more interested in subtly hinting at the motivations and backgrounds of its characters. When this kind of thing is done well, it can be a sign of genius, but here you're left feeling like you've missed some dialogue somewhere that would have clued you in on what the hell is going on. Some of the twists are profoundly unlikely and characters regularly do things purely to advance the plot.

All that said, the film is dynamic, keeping its own pace on its own terms, and its wonderfully dark edge is balanced by a pleasant line in witty humour that manages to make you laugh out loud without resorting to cheap slapstick and gurning at the camera. Likewise, the characters manage to be complete scumbags without making them difficult to spend 90 minutes with... bringing us nicely to the film's other attribute - its length. If you're a regular Gort fan, you'll know that we applaud any movie that clocks in at under an hour and a half, and The Liability manages to wrap up all its threads into a neat little package long before it's outstayed its welcome. Not perfect, but memorably promising and we'd watch Roth (or Riley in a see-through shirt and no bra) in anything.

The Liability is out in UK cinemas tomorrow and hits DVD on the 27th.

Gort vs monkeys: We review 60s killer-monkey movie Konga

2013-05-13T12:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's log, Stardate 13052013.2:

"Ook," it said.

We sat opposite the hyper-intelligent ape that had been our saviour. Trapped by the cybernetically enhanced baby that Gort had... acquired... our only hope had been to use the Mothership's cloning facilities to create our new colleague. The ape had produced and flung natural projectiles to subdue the baby and return it to Earth.

Smiling politely, I now leaned over to Gort and muttered through my teeth: "What do we do with the monkey now?"

"Ssshhh," Gort whispered mechanically, "don't call him a monkey. Do you want a face full of tactical faeces?"

Pulling back and maintaining my smile, I offered: "Would you like tea?"

"Ook," it answered.

We're fairly certain Konga's plot was transcribed from a dream fueled by a late-night rewatch of the original King Kong during a cheese binge. We can only assume that the production was bank rolled by a producer in a vengeful attempt to take down AIP studios.

Batman's butler himself, Michael Gough's mad botanist returns from a jungle expedition with a selection of carnivorous saplings that he believes prove to be a missing link between the evolution of plants and human beings. Gough ignores the attentions of his lovely housekeeper as he seems far more aroused by Konga, a chimp he has adopted from the jungle. Somehow the meat-eating marigolds in Gough's greenhouse allow him to turn Konga into an intelligent, completely subservient man in a gorilla costume. Konga looks as confused by this as we were.

"We're fairly certain Konga's plot was transcribed from a dream fuelled by a late-night rewatch of the original King Kong during a cheese binge."

Gough sends Konga out to perform ninja-like assassinations of his enemies, which he somehow feels is an inevitable conclusion of his research. His housekeeper finds this mildly troubling, as if she had discovered she'd run out of milk. She determines her only course of action is to marry the murderous mad scientist.

Things start to unravel when, just when you thought Gough's character had no interest in human women, he starts to crack on to a teenage girl he's been grooming. The actress seems to be trying to play the girl as having a mental disability and we're surprised Gough can get close to her without her stabbing him with her bizarrely pointed bust. Fuelled by jealousy, his housekeeper gives Konga all the remaining formula and sends him on a Godzilla rampage. Oddly, the film chooses this section to slow to a crawl to showcase the "effects". These include showing the exact same gorilla suit in a miniature set holding a Barbie.

Seriously, we're not even kidding, you need to see this film. The terribly acted technicolour madness and sheer unashamed shoddiness of its effects make it a joy to hold in your heart forever. Take that Peter Jackson.

Konga is re-released on UK DVD today. Hoorah!

Gort vs Tony Stark: We review Iron Man 3

2013-05-03T12:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's Log, Stardate 03052013.2:

I've lost count of the amount of times I've had to crouch in fear behind some bulkhead in an abandoned section of the Mothership since this mission began. This was the first time it had been because of a baby, though.

Stuck with a tiny human spawn through events beyond my control, Gort had decided to put the infant to work. Finding its motor skills lacking, he had outfitted the child with a prosthetic exoskeleton. Being Gort, he had added a few disintegrator beams and missiles. Little did he realise a fundamental truth of the human condition - babies are essentially tiny psychopaths.

I fear I must draw this entry to a close. I hear the sounds of "goo" in the depths. It is coming...

So we reach what could be the last entry in an Iron Man trilogy, if Robert Downey Jr can be believed... wait... Sorry, just read that back to myself. What am I saying? Let's start again...

The baton has been passed from Jon Favreau, who quit in a huff that Iron Man 2 had so much Avengers lead-up crowbarred in, to Shane Black of Predator and Lethal Weapon fame. It appears the success of Avengers has led Favreau to eat a lot of humble pie as his returning cameo as Stark's bodyguard sees him slightly heftier than we remember...

We know Black can direct from Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, but what we didn't know was if he had a grasp of the characters. Thankfully, we needn't have worried. Black seems to get Stark far more than Favreau ever did. Favreau portrayed Stark as a spoiled manchild who found a conscience. Here, we see his experiences forcing him to a maturity much closer to his comics persona - that being a simple egomaniac.

The obvious parallel is to James Bond, a womanising misogynist with sociopathic tendencies who we nonetheless cheer for through all his espionage adventures. The 60s and 70s Iron Man comics were very much Bond with armour instead of gadgets and Black apes this perfectly, right down to a score that is pure 007. Still, adapting a heavy scifi plot from the Warren Ellis Extremis storyline makes sure the movie doesn't get too old fashioned.

The film itself follows neatly from these two ideas, starting back in Avengers when Captain America asked Stark what he was without the suit. Stark gave a pithy comeback - "playboy, billionaire philanthropist" - but the answer was never 'superhero'. Black strips Stark of his armour, his money and his lifestyle, and asks: "what are you now?" To Black's credit, we don't get a straightforward answer. This is the perfect movie to show to people who think comics lack characterisation or complexity. Likewise, those who consider superheroes to be chauvinist will love that Paltrow's damsel in distress is far from helpless.

Black can't quite reach the iconic heights that Favreau's first reached - the humour doesn't always hit the mark and the story feels self-contained - but the action and villain are a lot better and it just feels more grown up. Best of all, the film's twist wonderfully subverts both your expectations and the plot of the comics in a way that is brilliant and hilarious. For once, the plot was supported by the trailer, instead of being blown by it. If RDJ is determined to pull out of the franchise, then there are far worse ways to go out than this.

Gort vs Sportacus: We review kids' TV show LazyTown

2013-04-26T12:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's log, Stardate 26042013.2:

I was rather perturbed this week to enter the Mothership's Command Deck and find a small child duct taped to a chair. "Goo," it said.

Summoning Gort, I questioned his motives with growing concern. Gort explained that he had been fascinated to discover that "human spawn" were not educated in internment camps the way children were in the Galactic Alliance, rather they were brainwashed using a form of visual entertainment known as CBeebies. To further his experimentation he had "acquired" a human child.

I began to ask where he had acquired it from before coming to my senses and simply telling him to send it back. Gort went quiet for a moment before advising that may not be an available option, adding the implication that some disintegration had been involved in its acquisition. Dismissing Gort's suggestion of disintegrating the child once he had completed the experiment and the child's own suggestion of "goo", I am now confronted with the question of what exactly I am supposed to do with a human child...

LazyTown is one of the most successful children's TV shows on your planet. Its 52 episodes have been broadcast in over 100 of what you call countries. Masterminded by the alleged human Magnus Scheving (we have our doubts as no human should be capable of that many push-ups), the show aims to brainwash children into exercising and eating fruit by whirling a variety of technicolour sets and costumes at them while monotonous songs play.

The plot centers around a 13-year-old girl named Stephanie who comes to live with her uncle in aptly-named Lazy Town. Amateur dancer Stephanie's effervescent nature is reflected in her day-glow pink attire and hair, but she finds this at odds with the other children of Lazy Town. Her new friend Ziggy eats nothing but sugary sweets, Pixel plays computer games all day and owns technology beyond anything the Galactic Alliance does somehow (another possible non-Earthling), Stingy appears to be both a kleptomaniac and a member of the British aristocracy, while Trixie seems to have all the makings of a classic sociopath.

Stephanie, like all great children's TV characters, resolves to interfere with her friends' lives for her own benefit. Her uncle, who also happens to be the mayor of Lazy Town (more of a colourful insult than a title), suggests summoning Lazy Town's former resident superhero "Number 9" using some form of message cannon that sits in the center of town. Instead of Number 9, a new hero answers the call: Sportacus, who, ominously wears the number 10 in the center of a crystal on his chest that gives him super powers. Said powers appear to involve doing a ridiculous amount of one-handed push-ups and looking smug, but we digress.

Sportacus and Stephanie get the Lazy Town kids up dancing and singing like the cast of Glee, only their songs are even worse... seriously (see above)... This attracts the ire of Lazy Town's resident curmudgeon Robbie Rotten, a master of disguise who, for some reason, lives in a bunker underneath the town. The children's horrible singing and general noise disturb Robbie, whose fairly reasonable desire is to just sit and watch TV in peace. Robbie devises various schemes to get rid of the colourful duo of Sportacus and Stephanie, often exploiting Sportacus' aversion to sugar. Sportacus only eats fruit, which he calls "sports candy" (we don't know either). Naturally, eating so much fructose has made him diabetic and sugary snacks have a Kryptonite-like affect on him.

Each episode, the LazyTown kids get themselves in some form of trouble and Sportacus must descend from his Olympus-like, scifi superblimp hovering about the town to save the day from Robbie's sympathetic plan. If you can overlook the disturbing sexual tension occasionally evident between Stephanie and Sportacus... who seems to have no adult friends... then there's actually a lot to enjoy about LazyTown. The show's silliness, terrible songs and cringey acting are ridiculous enough to actually make it quite endearing and while you probably won't watch it yourself, it's not a horrible experience to be trapped watching it with a human child.

After the success of the first three series, Stephanie's lifeclock started flashing and she lost Carousel to a younger model with a scarily deep voice who has taken over the role for a new series that has just started screening. Only time will tell if the new series clarifies the origin of Sportacus and Robbie or if we'll ever find out what happened to the mysterious Number 9...

Gort vs the prison service: We review scifi B-movie Hunter Prey

2013-04-16T12:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's Log, Stardate 16042013.2:

It had been a quiet week since I'd switched the polarity on Gort's stubbornness circuit. No more 6am combat drills; no more interrogation sessions in the chair; no more late-night bombing runs dropping crates of Epic Movie DVDs on Mel Gibson's house; and no more disintegration tantrums. Of course, my peace was interrupted when a group of intergalactic burglars showed up and simply asked Gort to let them onto the Mothership.

Thankfully, I managed to lure them into the cargo bay and used Gort's new pliant nature to persuade him to let me drop him on them from a great height. After I submitted the report, Admiral Moon insisted I restore Gort to his old self for the sake of the mission. Still, I made sure to keep the polarity switching device to hand should I need another impromptu vacation...

Hunter Prey is the brainchild of Sandy Collora, who was also behind the infamous Hollywood-are-you-listening Batman fan film, Dead End. He may have excelled in showing Christopher Nolan what humans would actually like a Batman film to be like, but there are comics geeks around the world storyboarding the greatest Batman movies ever conceived every evening over cans of cheap lager. What we want to know is: does his original work pan out?

Well, "original" would probably be a stretch. Essentially Enemy Mine in Star Wars cosplay, Hunter Prey is pretty short on unique ideas. What it does have, however, are a couple of fantastic twists that manage to turn the films it's ripping off on their heads. Can't remember the last time I saw a scifi action movie without a relatable human character in sight. It's just a shame that the aliens spend most of the film in helmets that render the dialogue inaudible.

An alien prison ship crashlands on a deserted world, leaving three bargain-basement Boba Fetts to recapture an escaped prisoner in a Darth Maul outfit who is the last survivor of a race wiped out by its captors. Yet, who is the titular Hunter and who is the eponymous Prey - dun dun duuuuuuun.

You'll probably work out the film's big twist about 30 seconds before it's revealed - we know we did - but you can't let that put you off Hunter Prey; mainly because it's the best thing in the film. It is, however, worth tracking the DVD down for that one idea alone. It's just a shame that Collora pulls the big Shyamalan within the first half hour, rather than drawing it out, because the final twist, while serviceable, just isn't quite as good as the one ending the first act.

Moving swiftly along before we collapse under the weight of our own elusiveness, Hunter Prey is genuinely pretty watchable if you can bear out the cringey dialogue. When will filmmakers stop using the "Arcturan poontang" method of scriptwriting (write stock character dialogue and then add made-up place names to make it scifi)? Still, Cameron dialogue models aside, the costumes and performances actually aren't bad and you can pick the film up for next to nothing. For a passable space opera with enough to hold your attention, you could do much worse *cough* Riddick *cough*.

Gort vs Lexx: We review the epic scifi smut TV series

2013-04-02T12:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's log, Stardate 02042013.2:

Things on the Mothership got a bit tense this week when an enormous spaceship shaped vaguely like human genitalia showed up and threatened to blow us up. A pleasant, lilting voice filled our com channels advising, "I am the Lexx. I am the most destructive force in the two universes. I have been asked to blow up your ship unless you write an article about how unique and entertaining my TV series was. You have five minutes to agree."

"It's a TV show. We don't cover TV shows," Gort said.

"Maybe we could make an exception given our imminent deaths, yeah?" I replied, but Gort was not forthcoming. He had been almost impossible to live with since he began throwing himself into his work to get over his break up with Helen Cox.

The Lexx began a countdown of the last minute, which I used as cover to open the access panel in Gort's neck and switch the polarity on his stubbornness circuit. The colour of his visor changed and his electronic voice rang out with: "Of course we'll do a feature on you. In fact, let's do TV shows as well as movies from now on."

I could get used to this...

Nothing can prepare you for the sheer, unadulterated bizarrety of Lexx. The four seasons of this Canadian/German/British coproduction somehow managed to reach Dune-like levels of epic scifiness while being filled with smutty slapstick gags, from the dragonfly shape of the titular starship - essentially two big spheres and a long, straight bit - to having shower devices on board that were pendulous fleshy udders with sparse, thick hairs all over them, squirting water all over our naked heroine when she squeezes a fleshy sack beneath them... sorry, you'll have to give us a second...

It's not easy to sum up the complexity of the plot in such a short space, but basically, Lexx posits that time works in cycles and eventually the universe will reset and everything will happen over again. In each cycle, the warriors of the Brunnen-G lead humanity to victory in the war for survival against the brutal Insect Race.

After the war, a new leader rises to power, the immortal Divine Shadow. His Shadow consults the Tron-style Time Prophet, who is able to see into the previous cycle of time, and she predicts that His Shadow will be defeated by the Brunnen-G. To preserve his reign, His Shadow wipes the Brunen-G out, seemingly defeating the prophecy. However, he restores a heroic Brunnen-G warrior named Kai to life as a brainwashed, indestructible zombie assassin... you know, for kicks.

Thousands of years later, His Shadow has created a superweapon, the carnivorous, living spaceship Lexx, with the ability to destroy planets in a Death Star-like fashion. He plans to execute most of the universe's population to bring order to the galaxy.

Meanwhile, security guard class 4, Stanley Tweedle manages to annoy his supervisor enough to earn a death sentence. On the lamb, everyman Stan stumbles across Barry Bostwick from Rocky Horror, who is leading a revolt and accidentally gives Stan a stolen sparkly gold hand thing that makes him the Lexx' captain, the only one who can control the ship and foil His Shadow's plan. Along the way, they run into Zev Bellringer of B3K. Raised as a concubine, the overweight, ugly Zev was rejected by her betrothed at the alter as a "cow" not worth the money his parents paid for her. In return, she knocked him unconscious with a right hook. As such, she was sentenced to become a "love slave" for not performing her "wifely duties" (His Shadow- not big on girl power). Her body is cosmetically altered to the very image of female perfection - Eva Haberman - and her libido is turned up to 11, while her mind is to be programmed to fall in lusty love with the first person she sees. Fortunately for Zev, the process is interrupted before she is mind-wiped and she grabs the head of a decapitated android and sticks it in the machine to take on the brainwashing that was meant for her. Named 790, the robot head falls instantly in love with her and so helps her and Stan escape on the Lexx.

His Shadow sends zombie Kai after his ship, but Kai snaps out of it at the last second and joins the crew, who set off through a black hole into the Dark Universe, a lawless wasteland beyond His Shadow's influence, in search of a new home... and that's just the first episode...

Somehow, this mental combination of deep, hard SF and silly, sexy comedy works perfectly. The showrunners manage to make Zev both a sexy lady in a short skirt flashing her knickers and getting naked whenever possible, but also a feminist heroine. All of the show's men find Zev irresistably attractive for her looks, but the feisty, intelligent, kickass woman, while not averse to using her sexuality to get the crew out of trouble, controls her insatiable sex drive and restricts herself to the one man who falls for her personality instead of her looks - Kai. Unfortunately, he's undead, so can't actually... perform. 790 is a snarky sidekick, while Stan is only occasionally less than a cowardly moron. Kai may usually be the deus ex machina that saves the day, but it is Zev's resourcefulness and heart that drives the crew, making her the only one who's really capable.

These hapless losers stumble across various threats of oscillating quality and diverse origins along their travels and the show begins to lose its sparkle as it moves from the original four feature-length episodes - also featuring Tim Curry, Rutger Hauer and Malcolm McDowell, respectively - to a normal TV show format and swaps out Haberman for the equally attractive, but less sordid and, ultimately, less spirited, Xenia Seeburg. Still, the initial season is a work of genius and the later series are still among the most unique TV you'll see. The show may owe a lot to Red Dwarf, but you'll notice after watching Lexx that Anubis from SG-1 bears more than a passing resemblance to His Shadow and that there simply would never have been a Farscape without Lexx. If there's such as thing as essential TV, Lexx is it.

Gort vs hallucinating nuns: Our review of Flavia The Heretic

2013-03-19T12:30:00.000Z

Commander's log, Stardate 19032013.2:

I'd seen very little of Gort this week. The only sign of him had been eerie strains of Country music drifting from his quarters. I had taken the opportunity to do some modifications to the shuttles in the docking bay, when Gort boldly appeared in the hanger in full nun's garb once again.

"Oh, not this again..." I mumbled under my breath, before venturing: "What's with the outfit?"

"I'm leaving to join a technonunnery. Don't try and stop me!"

I hate myself for this, but I couldn't resist asking: "What?"

"She's left me. She's marrying some squishy flesh creature! I'm done with this unevolved thing humans call love!" he yelled as he flailed his robotic limbs around like a silver Julie Andrews.

"There, there, mate." I patted his shoulder. "I mean, I wish I... cared... but you know... you have plenty of reasons to carry on here. So, the relationship didn't work out. There're plenty more toasters in the kitchen... or something... In the meantime, you have people here who... tolerate... you... vaguely..."

"It's just not the same without her..." he pined.

"Come on... Robot up. We still have a mission."

Gort paused for a brief second. Suddenly, his back stiffened. He rose to his feet and cast off his habit in a grand, sweeping gesture.

"That's right! There is always the mission! I have a duty to destroy the human race...!"

"...save..."

"... to save the human race from the evils of Hollywood and defend the rights of terrible films! Quickly, to the nunsploitation cave!"

I attempted to ask what Gort meant by that, but it was far too late...

Flavia The Heretic has both somewhat of a reputation and not nearly as much reputation as you'd expect. It's known fairly widely for having some grizzly torture scenes that have only just been allowed to pass uncut recently. On the other hand, no-one has much to say about the film other than that.

It's not your typical nunsploiter. The titular traitor is first introduced as a young girl, who is, for some reason, allowed to wonder onto the scene of a battle and ogle the dying soldiers. Her flirting with a barely conscious Saracen is interrupted by her disapproving father who beheads her suitor and packs her off to a convent, somewhat unreasonably.

Decades later, Flavia is resentful of her position and barely hides her contempt for the patriarchal Church. In the course of an average day, she encounters a bizarre cult of nymphomaniac lunatics and witnesses a lord rape a peasant woman in a pig sty. When one of her wayward sisters is tortured for her disobedience, including a sadistic moment where her nipple is removed with heated tongs, she loses her faith.

Flavia takes up with an older nun, who's kind of a misandric Obi-wan and shows both a grudging respect for and hatred of the dominance of men. Casually urinating, the nun unsuccessfully tries to seduce Flavia by preaching the pointlessness of celibacy. The two happen across a Saracen raid on an Italian town and Flavia both joins and shacks up with their handsome leader. The now de facto general of the army, Flavia sets off on an ill-fated crusade to topple the Vatican by capturing, drugging and sexually assaulting any nuns they can find.

That's pretty much it for the plot and the film itself makes little more sense than the synopsis we've just given. The torture may have been pretty nasty for the time, but it pales in comparison to anything by Eli Roth and the plot itself is actually quite dull. What makes the film worth seeing, however, are the eerily trippy hallucination sequences, highlights of which include a naked Flavia climbing inside a cow's corpse and a banquet where a naked girl is served up to a table of dry-humping peasants. If you want a film to give you some twisted dreams after a late night, this is a good bet.

Congratulations to Helen Cox of New Empress Magazine on her engagement (not from Gort, obviously).

Gort vs Lee Medcalf of The Black Dog Podcast

2013-03-08T13:00:00.000Z

Gort's log, Stardate 08032013.2:

The following is an audio transcript of an interrogation of The Dark Lord Medcalf, the Black Dog Armada's leader, by Officer Gort:

*Imperial March plays*

Gort: Put him in the chair.

*Sound of manacles being fastened*

Do you know why you are here?

Medcalf: Am I auditioning for the Fifty Shades of Grey movie?

Very funny, Dark Lord. Many more jokes like that and I may have to give you a private screening of The Fifth Element.

*Expletive removed*

You have been captured by the Galactic Alliance and you will be subject to questioning under the charge of being a curmudgeonly grump and a killjoy.

I'm not answering any of your *Expletive removed* questions, you *Expletive removed* robotic *Expletive removed* and you can take that and *Expletive removed* and don't forget the *Expletive removed* chicken.

*Opening score of Fifth Element plays*

*Screams*

Okay, okay, fine! Get on with your *Expletive removed* interrogation.

Time and time again you have expressed your passion for so-called "good" movies. What is it that appeals to you about them?

I love the escapism, the fact that movies can manipulate our emotions, entertain us and show us new ideas in a spectacular way. In science fiction movies, which are my favourite genre, it's the spectacle and the high concept that drives me along. It's also the reason I have a love affair with visual FX. I love a good special effect sequence, CG or animatronic/model work. The imagination at play in a well-written SF movie is awe inspiring.

Oh, so if your "imaginative", "escapist" movies with their high-budget effects and rational plots are so good, impress me! Tell me about one of these masterpieces!

I Saw The Devil - A seriously twisted Korean revenge flick. I won’t spoil it, but it's an interesting take on the cat-and-mouse, detective/murderer thriller. It stars Choi Min-sik, who you might remember as the lead from Oldboy and Lady Vengeance. It is one of those high-concept thrillers that you can just bet someone in Hollywood is looking at remaking, and probably softening the edges to boot.

Hah! I bet there isn't even one killer shark! These kinds of movies probably even have a talented cast who would otherwise be forced to slum it in B-movie hell. *Robotic chuckle*

Well, yes... I particularly like Paul Bettany. He’s an actor who is always engaging and has a real intensity about him. I loved him in Gangster No. 1 and A Knight's Tale (not that I was particularly fan of the film itself), but the problem with Bettany is that he’s never really capitalised on his initial break out and sadly has dropped into B-Movie, DTV hell with films like Legion and Priest. Both of which didn’t look that good, but I gave the benefit of the doubt because Bettany was in it... It's a real shame his biggest money-making films have been Iron Man and Avengers, but sadly he only starred as the voice of Jarvis, Tony Stark's computer.

Bah! Priest and Legion are Bettany's best work! You can't possibly only like Hollywood films? There must be some awful quip in an action B-movie that thrills you or a graphic scene of a low-budget horror film that terrifies you?

The last fifteen minutes of [REC], a spanish zombie movie. If you haven’t seen it, I can’t really spoil it for you, but suffice to say, infrared, plus person walking in a loft, equals a horrifically tense scene. So much so, that it's almost a relief when something bad actually happens.

Ah, but that is the essence of our agenda. Awful things can be a source of great joy. Surely you have found amusement in some terrible acting or continuity error at some time? You can tell me...

I think the one I spotted and suddenly had a 'WHOA!' moment was Jurassic Park, when you realise that the T Rex steps over its fence without so much as a hop, yet, thirty seconds later, when Alan Grant and the car go over the edge there's an eighty-foot drop!

So, you confess to actually deriving enjoyment from a film's failings?

Well, uh, no, that's not what I meant...

Liar! You like terrible movies, really, don't you? Why else would you inflict The Room on the listeners of your podcast? Confess!

Never!

Confess!

*Sounds of electricity sparking*

*Screams*

All right, all right, I admit it. To my eternal shame, I... I... enjoyed Thunderbirds.

Yes! Now we hear the truth!

I am an old dyed-in-the-wool Thunderbirds fan from my days as an impressionable kid sitting in front of the original Gerry Anderson series on a Saturday morning. So, when I got tickets to a premier screening of the Jonathan Frakes film, I was, in hindsight, already sold on it. Then, when the movie kicked off I was seriously into it. Add in a crush on Sophia Myles and an audience who seemed to be up for the movie and it all just hit the spot for me. The Framestore updates of the Thunderbirds themselves weren't offensive and some of the FX sequences were, at the time, quite impressive... A day later I was hating myself for even liking it. In fact, I think that was the day that the podcast section Rose-Tinted Specs was truly born...

It's okay. The Galactic Alliance understands. Terrible films are a joy to us all. Come, join us... Admit that you enjoyed The Room and your journey to the dark side will be complete!!

I-I...

*Sound of explosion and laser fire*

WHAT?!

*More laser fire*

*Metallic thud*

Darron Diamond: My Lord! I am here to rescue you, quickly, let's go before the robot recovers.

Medcalf: ...Darron? What happened to me? They were doing something to my mind...

Diamond: Never mind, sir. You're safe now. We'll get back to the Armada, make a cup of tea and watch Aliens. That'll sort you out.

Medcalf: Very good, Darron. We have another episode of our slightly random, off-colour podcast to record. We'll take a look at classic films, both good and bad, and re-evaluate them. Are they really that good or were they unfairly maligned? Either way, we and our dread horde of feedbackers will decide if the movie's reputation is deserved.

Diamond: That's right, sir, you remember. People can listen through iTunes or at GeekplanetOnline, or join the Facebook group and get involved!

Medcalf: Yes, Darron, let us leave and continue the fight against the Galactic Alliance another day.

*Recording ends*

Gort vs Love; or when sea creatures attack

2013-02-14T12:30:00.000Z

Commander's log, Stardate 14022013.2:

I decided to make myself scarce this week and give Gort some privacy to... 'interface' with his girlfriend, Helen Cox of New Empress magazine. After a great deal of time cruising around the solar system in a shuttle, I thought I'd given them enough personal space. As such, I panicked a little when I returned to the Mothership to walk in on them on the couch in the dark. Far more concerning, they appeared to be watching some footage of a shark attack on the big screen.

I stuttered out my apologies and began to back out of the room. "Listen, what you two do in the privacy of your own..." I began, when it occurred to me that Helen was fully clothed. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"We wanted to do something for Valentine's Day," Gort explained.

"So we're having a when-sea-creatures-attack B-movie marathon. What could be more romantic?" Helen continued.

"That may well be weirder..." I muttered.

"Weirder than what?" Gort asked, "What did you think we were doing?"

"Nothing... nothing..." I answered as I took a seat and some popcorn.

Peter Benchley has a lot to answer for.

The author's novel, Jaws had its movie rights bought up before it was even published. The slightly-different-from-the-book story was brought to the screen through a fraught production of endless SNAFUs. Somehow, it turned into a classic, due to Spielberg's Herculean ability to single-handedly suspend the audience's disbelief from his mighty beard. In his hands, a silly monster movie became one of the most celebrated works of cinema ever, beloved of film school graduates and the general public alike.

Jaws was quickly followed up by Roger Corman's parody Piranha, a silly horror that poked gentle and gory fun at Spielberg's triumph, replacing the shark with a swarm of mutated piranha fish created by the military to fight the Viet Cong. John Sayles, (now a highly respected writer and director) and new director Joe Dante (now a living legend) took the smart route of sticking their tongues firmly in their cheeks, creating a delightful spoof of the whole creature feature genre. With knowing references scattered like bread for ducks, a guest appearance from cult icon Barbara Steel, and comedy and bloody horror mixed together with élan, Piranha makes for a refreshing poolside cocktail. Still, this was a knowing satire of a one-off movie and, despite spawning a sequel, the sea monster movie trend dried up thereafter.

Then, sneaking in from the night air, a phantom menace appeared to cast the arcane spells required to resurrect a zombified, incomplete version of the once-great ouvre. The real villain here is the mighty Asylum. In 2009, they rejuvenated the sea monster genre with the elegantly titled Mega Shark versus Giant Octopus. This environmental parable sees a poorly animated megalodon and a dodgy-looking kraken-sized octopus awoken from cryogenic suspension in the polar ice caps by global warming and general humanoid stupidity. Will you people ever learn?

The two seem able to alter their size at will and are compelled to attack all humans they come across by the dark powers of B-cinema. A group of super scientists team up and try to take the two beasts out by luring them into combat with each other, bumping uglies in more ways than one along the way.

The acting is terrible, the effects are awful and the submarine interior sets all appear to be the same empty office with grey curtains covering the walls... and none of it matters one jot as the whole affair is hysterical fun. Do you really care that both the actors and some of the scenes appear to be lifted from censored soft porn when you get to see a gargantuan shark leap out of the ocean and take a bite out of a passing passenger jet? Copies of the DVD should really come with vouchers for beer and pizza.

All this money flying around inspired Hollywood to follow suit. The year after MSvGO, Piranha 3D appeared in cinemas, cashing in on The Asylum's success and exploiting Dante's movie's good name without taking on any of the concepts or plot.

The newer film is really just an exercise in exploitation; from the 3D to the ridiculously extended scenes of Kelly Brook swimming around butt naked with former porn actress Riley Steele like a sapphic version of Walkabout. It actually takes the political incorrectness to painful levels and is far from enjoyable. Thankfully, Alexandre Aja of Switchblade Romance fame helmed the film so, when it moves away from the XXXploitation, it redeems itself somewhat.

Elisabeth Shue's local sheriff teaming up with good old Adam Scott from Torque's marine biologist to take on the furious fish would have been a much better main plotline than the teen shenanigans that take the limelight, particularly when Ving Rhames provides the muscle. This subplot culminates in a glorious orgy of carnage as the piranhas attack Spring Break in a scene that could well be the best single setpiece from a horror movie filmed in the last decade. That, the final cliffhanger and the slumming-it A-list cast - including Chrisopher Lloyd and Richard Dreyfuss, who donated his pay to charity - actually do overcome the early yawn porn and make this worth seeing.

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for the cringeworthy sequel Piranha 3DD (*sigh*). None of the cast (aside from Lloyd and Rhames, briefly) or the director return and the plot doesn't follow on from the aforementioned brilliant finale. Instead we get an endless stream of painfully unfunny gags crowned by a cameo from The Hoff himself, who is no longer funny now we know he is actually like that. A piranha exiting a woman's genitalia mid-coitus and the conceit of the carnivorous cods learning to walk is more than enough to drown a film that was already treading cheese sauce.

Not to be outdone, however, Roger Corman appeared from the mists of B-movie obscurity to take his revenge. The legendary schlock producer refused to allow Aja to take his crown and commissioned not one, but two shark-attack movies that surfaced the very same year that Piranha 3D came out. As ever, Corman could be relied on to up the silly factor just that one extra notch.

In Sharktopus, the navy decides to create a super-aggressive half shark, half octopus to take on smugglers because... well... yeah... When it goes out of control, an uptight scientist girl and a maverick guy whose job is apparently being a maverick have to stop it; but none of that really matters so much as a string of setpieces where a series of couples on a romantic vacation get eaten by the rampaging sharktopus.

The effects are below par even for TV and the cast barely even qualify as more than extras, but the film has a wonderful vein of lunacy powering it. Few things will fill you with greater giddy confusion than when sharktopus lifts itself up on its tentacles and starts chasing its victims up the beach. Unfortunately, they can't keep up the momentum and the film descends into repetitive, non-gory death scenes. So much so, in fact that we wouldn't even recommend watching the film through to the end.

What a shame that the film couldn't be combined with Dinoshark, for all its faults. While Sharktopus had the star clout of Eric Roberts in the villainous role, all Dinoshark can manage is Eric Balfour. We would tell you the plot, but there isn't one. It's almost half an hour before we even get a good look at the prehistoric predator and, when we do, it's a terrible design. An hour or so of boredom passes when, suddenly, we find ourselves woken from our stupor by a couple of actually decent jump-scares. From there, it rapidly builds into an actually-impressive climax involving a jet ski and lobbing grenades into Dinoshark's mouth.

Were we to stick the end of Dinoshark on the beginning of Sharktopus, we might end up with a halfway watchable B-movie. As it is, Mega Shark versus Giant Octopus remains the benchmark by which all modern intentionally-bad movies should be judged, but it still can't compete with what an auteur can create when given a shot at a fun B-movie concept. Jaws remains the king of the oceans.

Tremendous thanks to Admiral Moon for his contribution to the above article

Gort vs Manborg

2013-01-28T12:30:00.000Z

Commander's Log, Stardate 28012013.2:

My week had been a relatively quiet one. Gort had been unusually illusive, giving me an inordinate amount of time on my hands. Enjoying the peace, I decided to dig into the DVDs that had been piling up from our Galactic Alliance intelligence briefings. I slid the top disc into the Mothership's DVD player and settled back with a bowl of popcorn...

"It ain't right, you know," Gort's metallic voice interrupted from somewhere over my left shoulder.

Once I had pried my fingernails from the ceiling, I asked what he meant.

"The film you're watching," he gestured to the DVD case, " 'Manborg'. Humans and robots breeding, it's just not natural.

"...You're dating a human..." I muttered from under a raised eyebrow.

"Helen doesn't count," he answered, "she has the cold, metallic heart of a robot death machine."

"That's almost romantic," I hesitantly suggested.

"Shut up and pass the popcorn," Gort answered.

Ah, the 80s: terrible hair, worse clothes, modern sensibilities, but not a jot of political correctness and then, suddenly, a direct line from any film-maker to their audience with the advent of home video. Nowadays, we can show up to a cinema for the latest Hollywood release and expect anything we watch to have high production values, make perfectly rational sense plot wise and star people who at least know what an acting coach is. So why do we all dream of the days when we could return from the video store clutching a scratched casette with a faded label and have at least a chance of ending up seeing something filmed in some guy's basement?

The reason is the same one that fuels Gort and my mission: in among the unfiltered stream of garbage that flows when quality control is relaxed, we find the greatest little nuggets of both genius and fun that would have surely been thrown out with the bath water if creativity had been stifled by ideas like good taste, cinematography and method acting. No garbage, no glory.

Steven Kozanski agrees. Like you, he remembers the good old days of bringing fresh rubbish home from the video store every weekend; like you, he loves the terrible, low budget, badly written, atrociously directed, woefully acted movies you rented twenty years ago; and he's doing something about it. Kozanski founded Astron-6, a production company dedicated to making cheap, cheerful movies that pay homage to the joys of straight-to-video entertainment. His second offering, following on from Father's Day, is the beautiful film, Manborg.

Humanity has accidentally opened a portal to hell, and blood-drinking Nazi demons have invaded and conquered Earth using their evil android warbots. A mystery benefactor retrieves a human soldier's corpse, he has the technology to rebuild him and so creates the ultimate weapon. Teaming up with a group of survivors forced into gladiatorial combat, the man now known as Manborg fights to save humanity. Something similar happened on the planet Gorgan Zola 8, but we don't like to talk about it.

In truth, our synopsis makes the film sound significantly more linear and well constructed than it is. Like all the best B-movies, the plot is merely a framework on which to hang a string of ridiculous setpieces and silly jokes. The demonic commandant of the gladiator arena has a crush on the film's, rather lovely, heroine and the eyeless, shark-teethed, mutant bumbles and stutters his way past her prison cell. Manborg has no control over his built-in machine gun and ends up Three Stooges-ing around on the floor trying not to hit his comrades. He redeems himself by facing down a 20-foot tall, skull-headed android death machine, brought to life in glorious claymation by the contents of a child's Play-doh set. Best of all, there's a delightful repeated motif of characters smiling and throwing a thumbs up to the camera.

Where Manborg's $1,000 budget (seriously) succeeds and Tarantino/Rodriguez' Grindhouse Hollywood budget, for example, fails is Manborg looks so much like a grainy, thrown together 80s B-movie that you could easily be convinced it was a lost classic, complete with hand-drawn computer interfaces and Manborg running new software through a cassette deck in his chest. That is, of course, until Kozanski gets bored and starts throwing in anime attack freeze frames; a chop-socky, dubbed-over martial artist who looks like Liu Kang from Mortal Kombat; and a guy shrunken down to half size with perspective for no reason at all, as he has no dialogue. We can only be thankful that modern technology allows film geeks to green screen scifi sets in behind their drama school friends in their mother's basements.

Best of all, Manborg sticks a finger up at modern cinema convention by coming in at a 60-minute run time, so the joke never wears thin. Don't worry though, value for money is added by an extended, fake post-credits trailer that will actually have you in hysterics. Thankfully, they do make them like this any more.

Manborg is released in the UK on 4th February

Harry Potter and The Engine Room of Gort

2013-01-14T12:30:00.000Z

Commander's Log, Stardate 14012013.2:

It came as somewhat of a surprise this week to find the source of the unusual power fluctuations the Mothership's computers had been detecting for some time. Heading down to the engine room, I found various tools and parts scattered around, indicating Gort had been working on some "improvements".

The shock came when I opened the engine access panel and found the engine itself had been removed and replaced with a glowing co-alition of light in the shape of a badger on a treadmill.

"GORT! What the hell have you done?!" I hollered.

Gort appeared behind me wearing a flowing black cloak and explained that he had converted the engine to run on magic. When I questioned exactly how reliable a fictional concept was as a power source, he flourished a wand he had constructed from a broken antenna and bellowed:

"Do not question the power of the dark lord Voldegort!"

"You've been watching the Harry Potter movies, haven't you?" I questioned, feeling a headache coming on.

"Arsekickeo!" Gort shouted with a flick of his antenna...

Adapting books into films is always a minefield. Change too much and you defeat the object of adapting a book to begin with, but keep every word the same and you may end up with a bloated movie that barely works on screen. Never has a series had more input from the source author or strived to capture what was so beloved about the books as Harry Potter; but did it succeed in adapting the novels and still produce great movies?

The first thing that strikes you when rewatching the films is just how young everybody looks and the sordid feeling that comes with knowing that Emma Watson will one day become rather attractive. Yet, the youth of the cast is reflected in Chris Columbus' direction. The Home Alone director gave the first two films the feel of a fairytale kids' adventure, which by the end of the series, the story rapidly outgrows.

Never more obvious is this than in the case of the sorely missed Richard Harris. His performance as the pivotal Dumbledore is powerful, entertaining and works perfectly in Columbus' installments. He's the very concept of a patriarch: wise, powerful, aloof; but also caring, subtle and completely nuts. Despite Harris allegedly not giving a hoot about the films, he clearly puts a lot more into Dumbledore than his replacement, Michael Gambon did.

Gambon is clearly as great an actor as Harris, but his Dumbledore swings wildly between earnest and unhinged. He never portrays Dumbledore as potent or dangerous, which undermines the supposed shock when his vulnerability is exposed in The Half-Blood Prince. Still, Gambon manages to be more effective than Harris, despite these issues, for the simple reason that he has a keen edge. Harris portrayed Dumbledore as a sort of Father Chrismas-like figure, all friendliness and affection, while Gambon made him a conniving bastard, along the lines of Xavier in the X-men comics, and it makes all the difference.

Children of Men director, Alfonso Cuaron was a left-field choice for the third movie after Columbus left, but it turns out, an inspired one. Cuaron opened up the world, venturing farther from the main sets and adding a darker tone, both metaphorically and visually; changing the pallet from Gryffindor colours to murky blue. Chamber of Secrets had been an odd mismatch between magical KKK antics and deadly snake attacks, on the one hand, and giddy comic relief and happy-go-lucky adventure, on the other. Cuaron's tone was much closer to the genuine danger of Rowling's world.

This was something that Mike Newell wanted to make plain in the next offering. Still, the fourth film seems slightly unsure of its footing somehow. It doesn't seem to know how to flesh out the visuals around what is explained by Rowling's narrative, losing important aspects, such as Quidditch, the Dursleys and the House Elves, and expanding on irrelevancies like the Yule Ball.

It's clear why David Yates took over for the rest of the movies as he managed to capture the feel of the books better than other directors. Order of The Phoenix saw the battle with Voldemort get started and the films gathered pace, appropriately. Harry became darker and Radcliffe's performance became stronger, while Rowling's second wave of characters, Gary Oldman, Natalia Tena and Evanna Lynch, gave a punkier, more underdog flavour to the protagonistic group. Even Robert Pattinson proves he's only annoying when associated with annoying properties. Meanwhile, the most action-packed of the books became the most exciting of the films.

Half-blood Prince, however, was more of a struggle. This was the beginning of a snowballing need to cut the stories down to their bare bones as Rowling, cunningly, made the plots more complex as her readership grew older. Yates was more sensible in his choices than Newell, but fans grew increasingly frustrated with the missing scenes and plot holes. The eponymous subplot of Half-Blood Prince was important to the series as a whole, but the film boiled it down to one out-of-place line of dialogue.

Finally, Deathly Hallows didn't do itself any favours. Huge chunks of plot involving Dumbledore's brother, Voldemort, Lupin and Tonks and pretty much all the other characters were unceremoniously ditched. You could forgive this if the result had been a single, economical movie, but instead we had two long films with drawn out scenes of the kids on the run that could have easily been excised. It's a studio decision if ever we saw one.

Still, despite feeling cheated at the end of part one, by the ultimate finale, you're right back on board. It may not be a patch on the ending of the books, but that conclusion is so brilliant that even a diluted version is nothing short of rousing.

Frankly, this applies to everything in the films. Rowling's story is so good, that it outshines any of the films' faults. There are plot holes and dodgy effects, some amateur acting and an oscillating tone, but nothing can detract from seeing Potter realised on screen; particularly with this cast. The real joy of the movies is that its main actors are universally brilliant, and in the few occasions where some of the background actors are struggling, they still seem to be having a fantastic time.

I mean, just take a look at the cast list; this is a who's who of British acting chops, and we can't help but love that they resisted the urge to cast Hollywood actors. Equally, we're certain that some wizarding magic must have been used to augur Radcliffe's talent, Watson's charm and Grint's comic timing. There's no way anyone could have predicted that these little actors would grow to carry the series, but it all came together.

For fans of the books, the films serve as a companion piece, a brilliantly-realised illustration of the text's highlights. Those who have not read the books are not only missing out on great literature, but also missing something in watching the films. Still, we think those who dislike the movies are a small minority compared to those who have been brought to the books by their love of the cinematic adaptations. We'd call that a victory, if only for Rowling's bank balance.

New year, new Gort

2013-01-04T14:13:00.000Z

**Incoming transmission**

Dearest Gort fans,

The times they are a-slightly different. A new year is seeing Gort and myself struggling to write a new post every week combined with our various other duties, including firing warning shots at Billy Crystal with the Mothership's lasers, beaming tribbles into Hollywood executives' offices, writing our column for New Empress Magazine, bullying Helen Cox, sending subversive messages to The Black Dog Armada and generally watching bad movies.

As such, we will be rolling back the blog to one post every two-or-so weeks. The good news is this will give us more time for longer posts with more research, covering a larger span of movies. We're very excited about the future and continue to appreciate your support and feedback.

Sweet robot lovin' to you all,

The Commander and Gort

Gort vs Xmas

2012-12-24T12:30:00.000Z

**Communications restored**

Commander's log, Stardate 24122012.2:

It was the eve of the birthday of the great space-god X and we were stuck here like rats in a maze. It had been nearly two weeks since that thing was set loose, living day to day. We huddled in the bowels of the Mothership, only five of us left: myself, Gort, Admiral Moon's incorporeal, floating head, Helen Cox of New Empress Magazine and Walter The Einstein Frog. Helen clung to Walter like he was a child, while Gort and I crept around corners, waiting for it to strike.

"Will you quit with the log already, we're gonna die here."

"We're not gonna die, Helen, it's a squirrel. I refuse to be murdered by a psychopathic squirrel," I replied.

"It is an exceptionally well-made squirrel..." Gort mumbled.

Suddenly, the illumination vanished and we were left in the harsh glow of red emergency lighting...
"It... cut the power," Admiral Moon stuttered out.

"Busy little creature, huh?" Gort deadpanned.

"What do it mean, 'It cut the power'? How could it cut the power? It's an animal!" I whispered.

"It mostly comes at night... mostly... *ribbit*" Commander Walter muttered to himself.

If Gort could have smiled, he would have, as he pulled a flamethrower from the pack on his back. "I like to keep this handy... for close encounters," he snarked.

"I feel safer already," I mumbled.

"Remember: short, controlled bursts," Admiral Moon advised.

So, we proceeded, with Gort firing his flamethrower around corners ahead of ourselves as we cautiously crept around the ship in search of the dreaded Ninja Squirrel.

"Hot as hell in here," Helen complained.

"Yeah man, but it's a dry heat..." Gort began to respond but was cut off by a sudden crack as the wall fell away and he was snatched away into a dark void that was left where the squirrel had gnawed through.

"Gort, no!" Helen screamed.

"It's coming outta the goddamn walls. Let's book!" I cried, dragging Helen along with us, "Admiral, we are LEAVING!"

We ran for three bulkheads before a noise stopped us in our tracks. It sounded like... chewing...

"Move!" I bellowed as the ceiling began to cave in. When the rumbling stopped, the squirrel stood in our path, throwing stars at the ready.

"Go, I'll hold him off!" Admiral Moon insisted as he floated his head directly at the squirrel with a war cry.

I picked up Helen and dived into the nearest hatchway, finding ourselves in the shuttle bay.

"We'd move faster without the frog..." I growled as I got up.

"Screw you too," Walter spat.

"Ribbit off, frog boy..." My retort was cut short as a paralysing screech rung out through the cargo bay and Ninja Squirrel came summersaulting towards us.

"Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast!" Helen shouted.">

"Relax, I got this," I smirked as I pulled Gort's discarded flamethrower from my pack and let loose on the now-flaming ball of fur.

I couldn't believe my eyes. "It's a robot. The squirrel is a god damn robot," I whispered. The squirrel's fur had burned away leaving the familiar pattern of metal and circuitry. "What the hell...?"

The squirrel froze as a demented laughter filled the hanger. "Do you like my creation?" Walter bellowed, "I disposed of Gort's little furry pet and replaced him with my synthoid ninja squirrel!"

"Why? Why would you do that?" I queried.

"To defeat you! My scheme is brilliant and fiendish."

"Oh no, my one weakness, robot squirrels..." I deadpanned as I shot a sarcastic look to Helen... who I suddenly realised look exceptionally guilty... "You were in on this?!"

"He was going to make me watch Gigli agai-heh-hen!!" Helen balled.

"Enough! Squirrel, kill them both!" Walter cackled in triumph, but was interrupted by the scream of an engine.

"Get away from them, you bitch!" A metallic voice cried as a bizarre flying vehicle roared across the hanger, ramming the robot squirrel into the wall and shattering it. It then swooped back and Gort grabbed Helen and me respectively and pulled us into the passenger compartment, before banking away out of the hanger into space, to the consternated cries of Walter.

"Oh, Gort, you're so brave!" Helen swooned.

"That squirrel was no match for me, baby."

"What the hell is this thing?" I asked, marvelling at the candy-cane covered flying car.

"Oh, well you remember that flying car I had when I was on that Fast and The Furious kick? Well, I converted it into a super Santa car with the intention of conning small children. Got the idea from Santa Claus: The Movie."

"You always were an asshole, Gort!" the three of us laughed as the car curved over Earth's horizon and into the sunset.

The preceding post was a complete piece of bobbins intended to thank the small group of wonderful people who have supported the blog this past year. As well as the regular crew, honourable mentions go out to Paul Tanter, Lee Medcalf, Darren Barnard, Gavin Johnson, Chris Johnson (no relation), Mike and Ike, Pete Kelk, Elton McManus, Gillian Coyle, Matt Dillon, Ama Zing and the lovely Sarah Lazell. Merry Christmas to you all and to everyone who has read this blog and not immediately thought "What the hell is this crap?". Gort and The Commander will see you all in the new year.

Gort vs Ninjas: Is Elektra the live-action Ninja Scroll we always wanted?

2012-12-13T12:30:00.000Z

Commander's Log, Stardate 13122012.2:

It always concerns me when Gort disappears for a period of time. This week, he didn't surface for several hours and, when I found him, he was in the genetics lab, hard at work over one of the cloning tubes.

"What are you doing?" I said with suspicion, prepared to run for my life.

"I'm helping. I've made you something for this week's post," he answered and opened the tube.

A reverberating cry filled the room as a tiny blur span from the tube and landed on the floor. What appeared to be a small rodent with a large bushy tail stood frozen, clad in a black outfit and mask, exposing just his eyes. He was twirling a rudimentary pair of nunchuks fashioned from acorns and twigs.

"No, you idiot! Ninja SCROLL!" I bellowed as the squirrel's cry ended and it lept at my face.

Marvel Studios is proof that respecting your story and characters will earn you a hell of a lot more money than sticking to Hollywood thinking and market research. Marvel is known throughout the Galactic Alliance as the perfect example of how to keep your audience for over 60 years. You only need to compare the quality and success of conventional studio attempts to adapt Marvel Universe properties to the publishing house's own efforts since.

Take a look at the adaptation of Daredevil. Starring a host of big names, including Ben Affleck, a long-time DD fan, and with the support of comics legends Stan Lee, Frank Miller and Kevin Smith, things boded well. The result, however, was a generic action movie with very little to interest anyone. Conventional wisdom maintains that the director's cut is a vast improvement, but this only serves to bloat the film with a mishmash of extra scenes, only some of which are more like what you wanted to see in the rest of the film.

Jennifer Garner starred as one of the hero's long-term love interests, Elektra, a Greek ambassador's daughter who is also, somehow, a ninja. Garner's run on Alias made her hot property, so Fox were keen to push her into a spin-off; something Garner was contractually obliged to do, despite her alleged objections.

The resulting film is such a tonal shift from Daredevil that it's hard to believe this is even the same universe, let alone the same character. We are still, however, treated to another generic action movie that follows the plot beats of the comic while retaining none of its spirit. Assassin-with-a-heart-of-gold Elektra stumbles into a role protecting a teenage girl and ER's replacement for George Clooney, Goran Visnjic, from a band of magical assassins, with the help of her Obi Wan, bob-a-job Thespian and acting god Terence Stamp.

The legendary Cary Tagawa is the head of the evil ninjas and dispatches his son, a white-cloaked, pony-tailed, dual-katana-wielding Samurai who can lift bed sheets with his mind and zip about at superhuman speed. His crew includes a nasty piece of work based on the Daredevil villain Typhoid Mary, but unlike her namesake, the film's Typhoid is a walking toxic spill, decaying and rotting everything she comes near. Her toxicity stands in opposition to her allure as a femme fatale and her near-fatal attack kiss with Garner remains a highlight. Actress Natassia Malthe has turned up in a few other films you may remember, so is worth keeping an eye on. Also among the evildoers is a beefy guy with a club and indestructible skin; a man tattooed from head to foot in living animal tattoos that can depart his body to attack his enemies, imaginatively named Tattoo; and, for some reason, a dude who balances coins on his fingers and has knives... Maybe he was someone's cousin...

Garner phones it in, every word of dialogue is a cliche and the plot is Swiss cheese. Despite this, the film is fondly remembered for the winning presentation of the aforementioned demonic martial artists. There are some nice effects and setpieces that far outclass the quality of the rest of the film.

Those with a taste for Eastern animation, however, may realise that Elektra's cult success comes from standing on the shoulders of giants. Among the most fondly remembered of anime classics, up there with Akira and Ghost In The Shell, is Ninja Scroll. An original piece of work, not based on a manga comic, which is a rarity for anime, at least in the West, the film follows the adventures of mythological ronin Jubei, a wondering Han Solo-style ninja hindered in his quest for wealth by his moral compass.

He stumbles across an unconscious female ninja who is having her various private areas forcibly defiled by the tongue of a giant ninja with indestructible skin made of rock. He manages to rescue her from harm and her assailant soon succumbs to his own libido. You see, it turns out his victim is a food taster and years of exposure have made her both immune to all poisons and poisonous in herself.

**Is any of this sounding familiar yet?**

It turns out that the pair royally pee off Stone Ninja's buddies, the so-called Devils of Kimon. They include a guy who can't be killed; a one-armed ninja sorcerer who can disappear into shadows, mind-control women by... uh, actually you don't want to know... and attack people with his extending prosthetic claw arm; a female ninja who can re-incarnate corpses as trojan-horse zombie bombs (I promise, I am not making this up); a guy with a wasps' nest in his back (still not making this up); a gay, pony-tailed, white-cloaked Samurai who electrocutes people with strands of wire; another white-cloaked Samurai who is a master swordsman; and a woman whose snake tattoos come to life and attack our heroes, not to mention sneak attack from within her nether regions.

**How about now?**

The Devils have a scheme involving recovering stolen gold and Jubei and the female ninja team up with a Yoda-like government agent to prevent them from causing a civil war. The plot is complex and light in equal measures, but like Elektra, it is the setpieces and the colourful villains that make Ninja Scroll an absolute treasure; not to mention some stunning visuals and beautiful animation.

You can take advantage of all this by acquiring the just-released Bluray edition of Ninja Scroll, which is a lovely thing to behold, we can assure you. We wouldn't recommend spending money on the Elektra Bluray, but it's good for casual post-night out viewing.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a squirrel to catch...

Gort's interrogation chair: We interview Jim Moon of the Hypnogoria podcast

2012-12-07T12:30:00.000Z

Gort's log, Stardate 07122012.2:

The following is an audio transcript of an interview of Admiral Jimothy Moon by Officer Gort

Moon: What is the meaning of this?

Gort: Ah, Admiral Moon, good of you to join us.

Gort? What is going on?

Admiral Moon, I am interviewing you under the authority of the Galactic Alliance Command Interval investigation Unit to confirm your loyalty to the Galactic Alliance.

What?!? I've been a GAC officer for over 400 years! What possible reason do you have to doubt me now?

I have been asked to interview all officers in this sector as a precaution following Commander Walter's actions.

But... you were the one who helped him to switch bodies with your own Commander!

They seem to have forgotten about that...

[Expletive removed]

Now, now, Admiral, there's no need for that kind of language. Do you like your chair, by the way? I designed it myself. It's packed full of tiny instruments for determining the truth.

[Loud yelping]

That, for example, was a drawing pin being jabbed into your arse. So, let's begin, shall we?

State your name, rank and mission.

Admiral Jimothy Moon of the Galactic Alliance Command Cinematic Police Force. My mission is to weed out worlds under the spectre of bland, generic award-bait biopics and films about Nazis. We try to save the worlds by promoting terribly made but entertaining B-movies. If we fail, we destroy the planet to prevent the horrors from spreading.

How do you go about this?

I'm the horror correspondent for Geekplanet Online. I also write reviews, articles and create sundry other nonsense on my own site Hypnogoria. I host the Hypnobobs podcast, which delves into weird fiction of all kinds (available on both the aforementioned sites and, of course, iTunes). Plus, I’m venturing into publishing, with my first tome Seven of Spectres: The First Hypnogoria Book of Uncanny Tales coming out for Kindle very, very soon! I hope this will improve Earth's cinema and literature.

Why have you not disintegrated the Earth for all these Oscar-winning pieces of Argellian Slime Worm dung?

You know this, Gort. Earth has a small culture of fun, low-budget movies that leave its future an ongoing question.

And you enjoy Earth's cult cinema?

I enjoy what I’ll term "outre cinema" - films that deal with the out of the ordinary. Obviously, SF, horror and fantasy comes under that umbrella, but it also can include general exploitation, pop music pics or experimental arthouse romps. Basically, outre cinema is any movie that shows you something you’ve not seen before or does it in a way you’ve not seen before.

Do you have an example?

An evil galactic tyrant is searching from some transmissions of secret plans that rebels plotting his overthrow have pinched... but no, I’m not talking about THAT franchise, which frankly, we all should have stopped worshipping years ago when they brought on the dancing bears!

This movie is 1984’s Hyperspace AKA Gremloids, and the evil interstellar despot is Lord Buckethead, whose troops look suspiciously like Jawas. Rather than Tatooine, he ends up ends up in backwoods America by accident and a hilarious, but extremely cheap, spoof of Star Wars ensues. It's very obscure, but well worth hunting down. Firstly, because it’s light years ahead of Spaceballs and, secondly, their re-enactment of the speeder-bike chase from Jedi, here done in a supermarket on shopping trolleys, needs to be seen to be believed!

[Zap!]

[Screaming]

You're right, I don't believe you. Prove to me that you truly appreciate the B-movies you are charged with protecting.

I love many terrible movies! Well, you have to be able to cherish the truly dire flicks as a film critic, otherwise you will be driven insane very quickly. Far better to make the journey at your leisure and learnt to appreciate movies that the world will say you are mad for loving!

My current darling is a 50’s B-movie, or rather a Z-movie, the infamous Robot Monster! The titular beast from the planet Ro-Man, is hunting down the last surviving humans on planet Earth. A promising scenario you may think, but it is pushed into the realms of the sublimely ridiculous by the fact that the Ro-Man costume is a bear suit coupled with a diving helmet and his futuristic equipment is clearly a World War II army surplus radio and a bubble machine!

Shoddy in every way, but what makes it so special is the lofty ambitions it has to being intelligent, epic SF, ambitions it could never hope to realise in any way, shape or form!

Hmmm... Killer robots, I approve. Now, tell me about an example of a so-called "good" movie you cannot abide.

The ruddy Godfather! Possibly starting with the ultra-extended version that runs for approximately six weeks probably didn’t help... but even so, I was expecting a gangster epic and instead got a lot of inter-family whinging. Not nearly enough tommy guns in violin cases for my liking. Very tellingly, when I saw Goodfellas my overall reaction was: “that’s what I wanted from the God-chuffing-father!”

Good. Now, tell us, who is your B-movie hero?

Mario Bava! An incredible director who made a wide variety of movies in different genres and even INVENTED some along the way (The Girl Who Knew Too Much was the prototype for giallo, and Bay of Blood, the slasher flick). He influenced generations of directors, and not just genre legends like Dario Argento or Lucio Fulci - without Bava’s Planet of the Vampires there’s no Alien and Fellini’s much copied bouncing red ball is actually the master director stealing from Bava’s Operation Paura AKA Kill Baby Kill!

Ah, my favourite part! Let's test your cinematic knowledge. Ruin a successful movie for all our readers by pointing out an unforgivable plot hole. Mwahaha!

My favourite plot hole is a MASSIVE one in a little movie now regarded as an untouchable classic! In Alien, yes, in ALIEN, it’s not even remotely plausible, never mind explained how, the chest burster goes from being a dildo with an attitude problem to a seven-foot nightmare with high dental bills. We see a shed skin, picked up by Brett, but that’s still tiny! For a movie that takes such care to develop its monster as a convincing biological entity, it’s a bona fide GAPING gap, as by the laws of nature, it would take time and indeed several stages - or instars natural history fans - for Terry the Toothy Todger to become full grown Old Double-Decker Dentures! Seriously, it's a whopper of a hole, bigger than most of the alleged plot holes in Prometheus!

Ah, Prometheus. How charming that you humans think the science in that movie is unrealistic. That reminds me, I need to feed my black-goo monster... Anyway, you can't spell Gort without gore, so direct me to the goriest scenes in film history.

Well, now having seen far too many sick flicks for my own good this is a tough choice. You’ll probably never see more blood and guts on screen than at the climax of Peter Jackson’s Brain Dead, in which the hero destroys a horde of zombies with a lawn-mower, but also you’re likely to be laughing.

For sickening violence, Cannibal Holocaust is hard to beat, but it’s more down to the pessimistic and bleak story line and tone that frame it, plus the worst incidents are of real animal cruelty rather than the gore effects crafted by the make-up men.

So, I’m going to aim for the middle on this one with a scene that is both sickening and dementedly over the top. In Lucio Fulci’s City of the Living Dead, we are treated to the bizarre sight of a girl mesmerised by a revenant priest into throwing up her own guts! And yes, it’s as surreal and as revolting as you imagine!

Good. You have done very well, Admiral. Finally, tell me what is the worst sex scene in cinema.

All the sex scenes in The Room, where Tommy Wiseau appears to be humping his lady’s ribcage! Although, honourable mention must go to Nite Owl and the Silk Spectre’s big squishy moment in Watchmen - in fairness though, it’s not the visuals, it's the choice of backing it with Laughing Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah!

Wrong. The correct answer is ALL OF THEM. You meat bags and your vile desires to squirt fluids at each other. I'm afraid I will have to torture you now.

[Justin Bieber record begins to play]

[Indiscriminate screaming]

Gort vs spoilers: we review Switchblade Romance

2012-11-30T11:00:00.000Z

Commander's log, Stardate 30112012.2:|

Spoilers, the final frontier. I was profoundly mocked this week on declaring I was to review French slasher horror Switchblade Romance, as Gort maintained such a thing was impossible.

Indeed, it is a great task to review a film that hinges so much on its ending properly without giving away the twist. Will I be successful? Are spoilers as big a deal as everyone makes out? We shall see...

Personally, I'm not sure why everyone gets so het up about spoilers. If a film is really any good, its appeal should rely on more than one big plot point. I have watched films such as Joss Whedon's brilliant horror pastiche The Cabin In The Woods - surely the highest-budget episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer ever filmed, and it didn't even feature Buffy - when I have known the twist in advance and still been able to appreciate and enjoy the film regardless. There are certain franchises, shows and books that I live in terror of having spoiled, but all of those are ongoing series that I have already become invested in. If you're going cold into a stand-alone movie, does it matter?

Perhaps the issue is one of re-evaluation. A good plot twist turns everything that has happened previously in the film on its head - heroes become villains, friends become enemies and kindness becomes cruelty. Watching the film again then lets you see all the events with fresh eyes, carefully snooping for holes in the plot. Coming into a film cold, then rewatching, essentially gives you two movies to enjoy. Switchblade Romance is one such movie.

The film, known as Haute Tension in France, opens with two young women, Cecile de France and Maiwenn le Besco, the Diva in The Fifth Element, on a road trip to stay with le Besco's family. Along the way, they discuss de France's lack of love life, a line of inquiry she deflects.

When they arrive, after de France is introduced to le Besco's family, de France nips outside for a quick fag. She catches sight of le Besco undressing through a window and her keen interest explains her reticence to discuss cute boys. She heads back upstairs to enjoy a bit of... *ahem*... private time, which is when things really kick off downstairs... Not like that...

We're introduced to a stereotypically creepy, rather grubby, dude, who is masturbating with the mouth of a woman's severed head. This is exactly the kind of thing Alexandre Aja specialises in. His gruesome direction managed to make Piranha 3D more than just an excuse to get Kelly Brook naked (as if you need an excuse) and it makes "The Killer" here an instantly iconic slasher-film villain.

The Killer proceeds to turn up at le Besco's house, knock on the door and brutally murder her father when he answers. The rest of the film focuses on de France's attempts to rescue her secret crush from the sadistic maniac. While lesbianism is often treated immaturely in horror particularly, de France's sexuality makes her rescue attempts plausible and gives her character depth.

Renowned curmudgeon and apparent hater of movies, Roger Ebert, infamously claimed there were plot holes you could drive a truck through in the film. There aren't and we have a tendency to fling such miserablists our of airlocks where I come from. If you truly understand what happens at the end, then you realise you can't quite pick out any particular disparities in the plot and the twist is foreshadowed, but it does stretch your suspension of disbelief a little too far. Worse, it comes at a moment when you cannot see any other way out for the characters, meaning it seems like a cheat when you're dying to see where the plot would have gone if it had carried on in the direction it was heading.

Thankfully, Aja pulls the film back to end on an delightfully dark and chilling coda, and the journey makes it worthwhile to withhold too much scepticism of the plot. So, there you go, spoiler-free review. Suck on that, robo-loser.

Gort, The Nun and The Devil walk into a convent...

2012-11-13T09:30:00.000Z

Commander's log, Stardate 13112012.2:

After taking my seventeenth shower of the week, I was still finding glitter following our besiegement by Tim Curry and Richard O'Brien. Silently repressing the events of that fateful day, I wandered into Gort's quarters to see if he had any more industrial make-up remover and was stunned by the sight I beheld.

Gort stood, adjusting the garter of the basque-and-stockings combo from 'the incident', which he wore underneath the nun's habit from his previous escapade inspired by nunsploitation flick Killer Nun.

"What?" he asked as he saw me staring at him slack jawed.

It took me several moments to gather my composure enough to ask: "Does Helen know about this?"

Gort sighed in frustraton: "We're covering another nunsploitation flick this week aren't we? I'm just dressing for the part."

Another few beats passed before I queried: "So what's with the underwear?"

"Isn't this what nuns wear under these penguin outfits?"

I took a deep breath and answered: "You have been watching way too much nunsploitation..."

The Nun and The Devil, or Le Monache di Sant'Arcangelo in Italy, is a strange one. If you go into the film expecting the usual culture clash of cloistered nuns discovering 70s sexual liberation, going off the rails and ending up in a murder frenzy, you're going to be disappointed. This fringe nunsploitation flick is actually a period drama, based on true events, with historic costumes that would put the BBC to shame.

Set during the Spanish Inquisition, the story concerns the political machinations of a group of nuns at the Sant Arcangelo di Baiano in Naples. Their ageing Mother Superior has died and four of the sisters are competing to earn the right to take her place. Former Miss Great Britain, Anne Heywood has few scruples in her pursuit of the position, yet she has an unhealthy interest in one of the teenage initiates under her care. Another nun has taken to self harm to deal with being cast aside by Heywood in favour of this younger ward. A third has the support of an influential young conquistador who sneaks into her bedroom at night. Lastly, a stern older sister feels she should take precedence over her younger competitors. Caught up in all this is a young Ornella Mutti, of Flash Gordon fame, Heywood's niece who has been forced into the convent to separate her from her puppy-love suitor.

Aside from a brief bit of toplessness during the conquistador's fumbling, a scene of lesbian knee kissing and a bit of off screen confirming of the initiates 'virtue', the film continues on without any of the lewdness, perversity or gore you would expect from a nunsploitation film. What you will find in the movie, however, is quite an involving plot and some interesting quasi-history. The political ducking and diving is quite tense and amounts to a just-about-watchable Borgias-style drama.

Even more surprisingly, the film actually has a moral theme. As Mutti states early on: "God is love". The movie is taking a swipe at the Catholic church to declare, Bohemian style, that any institution that forbids romantic love is immoral. All this culminates into Heywood's declaration that none of the lines she has crossed in her pursuit of the freedom that would have been granted her as Mother Superior was as cruel as the cloistered life that was forced upon her by the corrupt Church.

Of course, before we get to that stage, the film manages to just about sneak in its quota of both nudity and torture porn as the Spanish Inquisition comes a calling to force the nuns to confess their ambitions and subterfuges. One is subjected to a Judas Cradle, while another is force-fed water until her stomach begins to swell. The film justifies these as examples of real-life Inquisition torture, but the effort still manages to gain it entry into the nunsploitation genre.

As a package, The Nun and The Devil works as a great little palette cleanser in the middle of an exploitation marathon by having just enough merit to make it a respectable B-movie in its own right. It's worth your attention as a unique entry into the canon at the very least.

Halloween special: The rocky Gort Horror Picture Show

2012-10-31T12:30:00.000Z

Commander's log, Stardate 31102012.2:

There we were, one night this week, sat around discussing the finer points of cult movies with Gort's girlfriend, Helen Cox of New Empress magazine, when we found ourselves besieged. Helen was insisting upon the genius of Grease 2, while Gort and I were protesting that all musicals suck.

"But, but, but... it's awesome! Cool Rider?! Do It For Our Country?! Who's That Guy?! How can you not like it?!" Helen proclaimed.

"Good taste?" Gort was heard to suggest before a loud clang sounded as Helen hit him round the head with the replica She-Ra sword she carries at all times.

At that moment, the doors to the Mothership's canteen burst open and Senior Galactic Alliance Commander Richard O'Brien burst in, accompanied by actor Tim Curry wearing full basque-and-stockings attire. With a snarl O'Brien raised a hand-held Medusa Transducer and froze all three of us to the spot.

"How dare you criticise the honourable institution of the musical? You call yourselves Galactic Alliance cinematic police officers!! Bah!" he bellowed and fired the Transducer. When we awoke, we found ourselves tied to examination tables in the medical lab, wearing lingerie.

"Now, allow me to give you an... educa-tion!" Curry purred, before slowly sliding a DVD into the player on the medical scanner, rolling the credits for cult classic musical The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Premiering in 1973, The Rocky Horror Show is regularly listed as one of the best examples of musical theatre ever written. This is even more impressive, given that the show was scripted and scored by out-of-work actor Richard O'Brien as a way to keep busy between gigs... and yes, that is Richard O'Brien who would go on to present The Crystal Maze...

The play was such a success that it only took two years to go from an experimental production in a space above a theatre to an international cinema release through 20th Century Fox. The film version stars many of the original theatre cast, including O'Brien himself, the infamous Tim Curry in his greatest role, Australian pop star Little Nell and rock legend Meat Loaf, alongside before-they-were-famous actors Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon, and the great Charles Gray.

Gray is a criminologist, telling us the gruesome details of a case he has investigated. A wholesome young couple break down in the middle of nowhere one night and seek help at a nearby mansion. Little do they know that this castle is owned by Curry, a transvestite alien from the planet Transylvania. A complete hedonist, Curry rules a house of Transylvanians through a combination of fear and seduction and is about to complete his greatest experiment - the creation of his very own Frankenstein's monster in the form of the perfect male specimen whom he intends to become his new paramour. Much bed-hopping ensues as Curry proceeds to seduce and corrupt our naive young heroes.

The B-movie scifi ridiculousness and the OTT musical numbers, combined with the overt sexuality and violent murder, create a perfect representation of two disparate aspects of O'Brien's personality. On the one hand, Rocky Horror is an ode to the 50s B-movies O'Brien grew up with and the title song Science Fiction Double Feature riffs on all his favourite films - "Michael Rennie was ill, The Day the Earth Stood Still, but he told us where we stand, and Flash Gordon was there in silver underwear, Claude Rains was The Invisible Man". Co-incidentally, O'Brien would go on to have a small role in the 1980 Flash Gordon movie...

Elsewhere, the film's liberated attitude is a metaphor for O'Brien's own struggles to determine his sexual identity. The final refrain of "don't dream it, be it" is a call to arms for people to throw off the shackles of societal pressure and open up about their sexuality. Whether the audience is aware of this or not, the now-traditional practice of fans showing up to screenings and productions of Rocky Horror in copies of the characters' sordid costumes manages to bring people out of their shells.

Likewise, while fans are encouraged to throw items at the screen and shout along with the dialogue at showings of the film, the movie takes itself far from seriously. Plot holes appear all over the place like in a door in Jack Nicholson's house, magical occurrences are explained away by switches on the wall with scientific-sounding names and the script is rife with gags Leslie Nielsen would be proud of.

Still, this is a cast of exceptional actors having a whale of a time hamming it up and chewing the scenery. The rock and roll soundtrack seems to sit hand in hand with the lurid costumes, garish sets and ridiculous setpieces. This truly is a film you can't help but love, no matter how cynical you are. It's fun, has a serious point about sexual repression and is the trump card that defeats the argument that all musicals suck. Not to mention, with the dressing up and scifi-horror cliches, it's the perfect movie for Halloween.

A ghoulish evening to you all. Mwahahahaaa!

Of all the places, in all the towns, in all the world, this alien walks into Storage 24

2012-10-22T12:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's log, Stardate 22102012.2:

Some people just have no class.

When Gort and I arrived on Earth, we descended in the Mothership's landing craft and plopped it down in the middle of a lawn in Washington DC. I hopped out and declared that I came in peace... and was promptly shot. Gort proceeded to open up some whupass and, with the help of Helen Cox of New Empress magazine, we managed to get out our message and retired to the Mothership in orbit.

Disaster though it may have been, we at least retained our dignity. Some aliens, however, simply show up wherever: forests, redneck towns, the ocean, high school and even the Arctic. Still, never before have I heard of an alien turning up in a self-storage unit in Battersea... until I saw Storage 24.
Noel Clarke is no stranger to taking on alien invaders, having made his name starring in Doctor Who. Conversely, he has a cult following for writing and directing his own gritty London dramas, and he combines the two skills by starring and penning in this attempt at a British comedy-scifi in the vein of The Faculty and Critters.

Clarke recruits a Michael Fassbender impersonator to help him pick up his stuff from storage after being resoundingly dumped by his girlfriend. The pair turn up to find his girlfriend, her posh, stroppy male friend and her hot, but judgemental female friend have had exactly the same idea. Cue awkward pause. Right then, however, wouldn't you know it, an escaped alien scarpers from a crashed military plane and starts hacking and slashing its way through the building.

We're a big fan of what we call "then suddenly... APOCALYPSE!" movies; films that start in one genre and suddenly morph into another. See The Horde, From Dusk Till Dawn and Fallen. The key to this trick is to use the early half to build up a connection to sympathetic characters, then drop the bomb on the situation with some kind of supernatural MacGuffin.

Storage 24 is particularly good at this. Clarke is an exceptional actor and does a great job here. The situation is realistic and tense, one most of us can sympathise with, and benefits from ensuring that each of the five characters present are equally detestable in their own ways. Indeed, as the set up for a Midsummer Night's Dream-style theatrical drama, this could continue quite well.

Where it falls down, however, is in the alien visitor. We're in two minds about the effects - on the one hand, they are very cheap, but on the other, they do the job in context. A stilted actor in costume is enhanced by a grotesque CGI mouth. You can clearly see the join and the design is reminiscent of Who's Ood, but as cheap scifi B-movie monsters go, it's a quite a way above a chimp in prosthetics.

The main problem is, there is no development, no anthropology and no motive to the alien's actions. This is clearly scifi written by a drama writer who has no interest in developing the scifi aspects - scifi-light for the Eastenders crowd, if you will. As such, the film is a wasted opportunity as a drama that stops right in the middle to have alien shenanigans and lacks any substance as a scifi or horror movie. Still, Clarke ensures the whole affair has a touch of class and competence and there are far worse ways to spend a couple of hours on a Saturday night.

Storage 24 is available in all formats from 29th October

Gort vs bad translation: We review Stellan Skarsgard in The King of Devil's Island

2012-10-19T12:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's log, Stardate 19102012.2:

One thing you humans are known throughout the universe for is your depressing Oscar-bait movies. Every year a cavalcade of films come out with a horde of talented actors playing tragic heroes and historical figures. All of these have huge production values and an easily digestible plot with nothing to encourage audiences to think.

That chubby office manager who somehow made his way into Hollywood once wrote a line for Kate Winslet: "I don't think we need another film about the Holocaust, do we? It's like, how many have there been? No, we get it, it was grim, move on. No, I'm doing this because I've noticed that if you do a film about the Holocaust, guaranteed an Oscar. I've been nominated four times. Never won. The whole world is going, 'why hasn't Winslet won one?'"

Generally, Gort and I like to use these droning, depressing, historical epics as target practice; firing them from the Mothership's airlocks and sniping at them with the turbo lasers (our apologies to Finland for that wild shot that took out your eastern seaboard). You may think we're a little harsh, but the simple truth is that these kind of movies do not have to be mind-numbing, they can make you think. Take Norwegian movie The King of Devil's Island...

The first question to ask about this movie is what exactly it has to do with the Devil. The island in question is never referred to as Devil's Island and is instead a place called Bastoy. We fear the change of title is an attempt to appeal to audiences who would be put off by the Norwegian name. The real-life Bastoy island has been a prison camp for young offenders for over a century. Nowadays, it is quite reputable and progressive, but in 1915 it was a nightmare for the juvenile prisoners, who eventually revolted and overthrew their jailors.

Dramatising this story, the film opens with the arrival of a teenage sailor, imprisoned for murder. His thoughts are initially only of escape, but as a friendship grows between him and a privileged, exemplary prisoner, the two begin to watch over the other inmates. When an abusive jailor causes the tragic death of a vulnerable cell-mate, the situation becomes a powder keg.

Opposing the two leaders of the prisoners is strict warden Stellan Skarsgard, who stamps his presence over the film, despite not featuring heavily, by performing with the flexibility that allows him to appear in both dogme and this year's top blockbuster with equal aplomb. The warden genuinely cares about the children in his care and believes that those who survive Bastoy leave with the only chance at a decent life they will ever get. Despite being horrified by the actions of his staff, he is forced to support them in order to avoid derailing his charges' rehabilitation.

The stand-offs between Skarsgard and the sailor are fraught with moral tension - rail against an immoral system and sacrifice what little good it may be doing or defend it and prosper, while sacrificing your ethics. The film doesn't offer any easy answers, particularly when the young sailor's friend is mere weeks from parole, but only if he doesn't rock the boat.

The plot grinds along on a slow boil, but is economical enough to make every single second inform character and drive the story. Atmospheric direction and excellent performances make for an intense experience while the narrative manages to draw you into the moral quandary without ever having to state either case or take sides, even for a moment. If only the Academy took more notice of that kind of effort, instead of high budget and no substance.

The King of Devil's Island is released on all formats on 29th October.

Super Hybrid - the movie monster that's part killer car, part giant octopus thingy

2012-10-04T16:30:00.000+01:00

Commander's log: Stardate 04102012.2,

"Space... the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Mothership. Its continuing mission, to explore strange old movies; to seek out new plot ideas and new definitions of 'dialogue'. To boldly go where..."

"Have you seen my car?"

"...What? No, Gort, I haven't seen your car. Do you mind, I'm in the middle of a log entry?"

"Whatever. My car is missing and I'm supposed to pick up Helen Cox of New Empress Magazine for our date."

"Have you tried the shuttle bay?"

"Yes, I've tried the shuttle bay! The car's gone, I haven't seen it since last night."

"Last night?"

"Yes."

"When we watched that killer-car movie, Super Hybrid, through the ship's computer systems, which your artificially intelligent car was connected to for a software update?"

"...Oh dear..."

[Indistinct sounds of car engines revving and people screaming]

There are only so many ways that a movie about a killer car can surprise you. Super Hybrid, also known simply as Hybrid, manages to do so by avoiding the obvious Transformers-style computer-controlled automobile and having its vehement vehicle turn out to be an octopus... yes, an octopus.

The film posits that a species of land-dwelling, giant octopi has somehow evolved the ability to shape shift into a car, based loosely on the real-life thaumoctopus mimicus, which can alter the texture of its skin like an underwater super chameleon. Of course, looking a bit like a rock is quite a way from turning itself into a fully-working automobile and driving around like the smuggest hermit crab in the world...

What makes this movie worth your time is some brilliant work from French director Eric Valette. The film opens with the monstrous motorcar following a couple of kids out of a club and morphing into an unlocked sports car to lure them inside, before sealing the doors, turning the windows opaque and eating them alive. Despite the ridiculousness, Valette manages to make this largely silent scene genuinely creepy and thoroughly entertaining.

As the car heads on its way, it manages to get blindsided by another vehicle and towed to an impound yard. Recovering there, it proceeds to seal the staff in and begins picking them off one at a time in true slasher fashion. This gives veteran horror writer Benjamin Carr the opportunity to have the staff spout some truly appalling dialogue.

The only 'name' in the cast is Oded Fehr from The Mummy and Resident Evil. Elsewhere, the acting ranges from dull to rotten. You always know the cast budget was low when the best your sexy female lead's introductory getting-dressed sequence can manage is to put her in a pair of enormous MandS-style pants.

Still, it's nice to see every character having a major personality flaw and not finding redemption by the end of the movie. Fehr's determination to capture the car for financial gain is the primary reason for the death of most of his coworkers, yet he remains entirely unrepentant.

The effects are also reasonably impressive, particularly the Predator-style killer-car vision. The budget can't quite stretch to keep up the quality for the final showdown, but a nice coda manages to avoid leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth. Skirting the boundaries between good and so-bad-it's-good, this is still worth a watch, so long as you're in the right gear.

Nude Nuns With Big Guns does what it says on the tin

2012-09-28T09:00:00.000+01:00

Commander's Log, Stardate 28092012.2:

It's not easy defending the honour of sordid films. Openly supporting exploitation movies makes you an easy target for allegations of immaturity, violence, sexism and outright perversity. This is a hard lesson that Gort learned all too well this week.

I passed the Mothership's recreation deck on my way to recalibrate the ship's temporal force field in advance of the release of Looper, when I noticed a flickering light. Investigating, I found Gort huddled into the couch in front of the Mothership's main view screen. He immediately de-activated the screen and jumped to his feet, switching to recharge mode.

Noticing a box on the couch where he had been sat, I collected the object and read the cover aloud - "Nude Nuns With Big Guns, you dirty, robotic bastard". Gort immediately sprang to life and vehemently proclaimed that the film was not porn. He maintained his clandestine actions had been intended to avoid having the same very conversation with his girlfriend Helen Cox of New Empress Magazine. With a wary eye, I asked him what exactly the film was about, then.

Gort explained that Nude Nuns With Big Guns was an attempt to pay homage to the exploitative Grindhouse flicks of the 60s and 70s. Essentially, the Grindhouse was the birthplace of the B-movie. The arrival of TV led humans out of the cinemas and back to their homes, so enterprising cinema owners had to draw crowds back by offering gratuitous smut and violence at a budget price. These cinemas were about as pleasant as the toilets on a Rigellian Slime Warrior space station, but still less sordid and better put together than the films they showed. Nonetheless, they were awesome.

Among the outright porn and the disturbing docu-horrors were the first action movies; "blaxpoitation" may have been far from PC, but it cast racial minorities as heroes; and these fleapits cemented the horror genre as we know it. So fondly remembered were the Grindhouses, that Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarrantino released a double feature of Grindhouse homages entitled, appropriately, Grindhouse. Unfortunately, it didn't hold up.

Grindhouse may have included loving satire directed at the nonsensical plotting and ridiculously low production values of exploitation cinema, but it only generated two unusual parodies, without any of the real fun of the disreputable movies they referenced. Nude Nuns With Big Guns, on the other hand, perfectly recreates these by simply making a high production, modern Grindhouse movie without any attempt at satire, and comes off far better.

The story concerns a Vatican-supported drug running operation using nuns as manual labour and mules. One attempts an escape and is drugged and sent to work in a brothel as penance. Breaking free, she declares herself to be on a mission from God to defeat the drug runners, and is not taking any prisoners. Using her nun's habit and gunbelt as a superhero costume, she teams up with her lesbian lover on the inside of the nunnery and starts cutting a blood-soaked trail of vengeance through the drug empire.

She causes such a concern that a vicious group of enforcers are sent after her. So sadistic is the gang's leader that he interrogates women by setting a large nasty character nicknamed Kickstand on them in a rather unpleasant and gratuitous fashion; we think you get the point.

Likewise, the film takes any opportunity to get its extras naked, from various scenes in a strip club to a drug lab manned by nuns who have been stripped to prevent theft, but are still wearing their veils. Every female character with a modicum of sexuality is either a stripper or a promiscuous lesbian, while every male is a sexual sadist or a coward.

Of course, it wouldn't be an exploitation film without a bit of exploitation, but this is a movie that pulls no punches and it's not for the feint hearted. Still, it's no more commending rape and drug use than Friday The 13th is supporting axe murders. If you can see past your political correctness, then you'll find a lot of heart to this movie, not to mention some beautiful, stylish, technicolour imagery.

There's a shallow, but sensitive love story at the heart of the film, and a great sense of justice in seeing some truly despicable characters meet their fate. Despite the low budget, the film has some reasonable performances; some not so reasonable, but still... Nonetheless, the real power of this flick is the sheer badass cool of seeing a nun in full habit with a pair of huge revolvers shoot her way through a brothel filled with the scum of the Earth.

The film takes all that was best about the Grindhouse, from the memorable characters and sleazy exploitation to the raw style and sheer crowd pleasing, and gives it the benefit of modern techniques and a more generous budget. The result is both a brilliant homage to the Grindhouse and a thoroughly enjoyable B-movie in its own right.

B-movie heroes: Alex Proyas

2012-09-18T14:00:00.000+01:00

Commander's Log, Stardate 18092012.2:

Things may have been getting back to normal on the Mothership, but I still refused to be denied my vengeance. Grabbing some make-up from Helen Cox of New Empress magazines's unattended handbag, I proceeded to white up my face and draw lines vertically over my eyes in black lipstick. I began by training a small raven to say "Gigli" over and over while following Helen around, sending her into irrational bursts of tears at random moments.

Next, I slipped into Gort's quarters while he was on a repair cycle and painted spirals over the walls, before taking a screwdriver to his vocal processor, changing his voice patterns from his default to one named "VIKI".

The next morning, as I sat over breakfast, Gort entered the room and loomed over me. A feminine voice emanated from his speakers and asked: 'Just what is it with you and Alex Proyas movies anyway?"

Bio

Alex Proyas doesn't have a glitzy history. He wasn't discovered at a young age filming his friends in amateur movies and he didn't make the jump from acting. This Greek director, living in Australia, simply attended film school and worked his rear off to refine his craft. It may not make for an exciting story, but the results show in his stylish direction, normally with gothic leanings and a proclivity for clocks.

B-movie Highlights

The Crow

The parallels between Brandon Lee's incredible, painted-face performance as Eric Draven and Heath Ledger's Joker are so numerous that, like The Dark Knight, the quality of Proyas' The Crow is often lost among the real-life pathos. Likewise, the film has become inseparable from James O'Barr's legendary comic, which spawned it. As such, you may have forgotten just how moving, entertaining and beautiful it is. Some great performances combine with Proyas' stunning direction and an epic soundtrack to create something more akin to a dream than just a film. Like both Draven and Lee, The Crow lives on, in your memory, well after the credits roll.

Dark City

Take The Matrix. Now, make the plot a lot more interesting and driven by character, rather than half-remembered cod philosophy. Give it a dose of arthouse weirdness and burnish it with the same stylish gothic direction Proyas delivered for The Crow. Finally, give it a better cast, including Rufus Sewell, Jennifer Connelly, William Hurt, Kiefer Sutherland and Richard O'Brien... yes, that Richard O'Brien. Congratulations, you have Dark City. Don't get us wrong, we love The Matrix, but this is simply better.

I, Robot

The first time we watched I, Robot, we were let down. We thought Proyas had sold out to give us a dumb, over-egged Hollywood action movie with an almost legendary level of product placement. It's hard to argue that the shift from Dark City to this isn't jarring, but subsequent viewings changed our mind somewhat. If you give the movie a chance, you can see where Proyas was trying to go. The plight of Sonny, the robot Messiah, played brilliantly by Serenity's Alan Tudyk, is moving and nuanced. Meanwhile, we have to admit that Smith isn't as annoying as we'd like to think he is; in fact he's very good. Likewise, the effects are great and and there are some fantastic scenes, like the big robot attack setpiece in the tunnel. Of course, the less said about the young Shia LaBeouf as a creepy rapist-in-the-making, the better. Not Proyas' best, but an under-rated film, nonetheless.

Back in black rubber: we review all the Underworld movies

2012-09-12T11:00:00.000+01:00

Commander's log, Stardate 12092012.2:

Defrosting my cryogenically frozen body with a hair dryer in order to finally get my brain back out of its froggy prison last week, I took to thinking about Kate Beckinsale. Obviously, for the usual reasons, but also because of Underworld.

This pre-Twilight, goth version of Romeo and Juliet pulls off the same trick as The Matrix in taking all the facets of the entire genre of Universal vampires and werewolves and crystalising it into one definitive story. In addition, you get a fantastic cast, including breakout performances from beloved thesps Michael Sheen and Bill Nighy, stylish action sequences and Beckinsale in rubber.

Somehow, just a few years after all that, vampires became limp-wristed, sparkly, fluffy-haired posers, and you even cast them in blockbuster movies. We got sick of the space vampires decades ago and blew up their planet with a Death Star. I mean, they nearly depleted galactic reserves of hair gel and the less said about those earthquakes on Rigel 3, caused by the hypersonic screams of young Rigellian girls, the better. Anyway, all of this prompted a marathon rewatch of all the Underworld movies, but were they as good as we remembered?

Underworld

The secret war between vampires and werewolves, which has gone on behind the scenes throughout history, is dying down. The werewolves, however, have a final trick up their sleaves that somehow involves student doctor, Scott Speedman. Thankfully, Bond-meets-dominatrix-style vampire supercop Kate Beckinsale is on to them, but is she really on the right side; particularly as she has the hots for Speedman?

"You've got a hair on your collar, let me get it... Oh, it's attached..."

There is so much mythology and back story crammed into this movie that there's no time for character development, leaving it a pretty flimsy narrative. Still, the mythology is great fun and it's packed with oodles of style and a fantastic cast. The fight scenes are solid and the film even invented the infamous 'cut and slide' death. The effects may be ropey in places, due to the modest budget, but this is still well worth your time.

Verdict: Classic

Evolution

Taking up the story just hours after the end of the last film, Beckinsale and vampire-werewolf hybrid Speedman are now on the run from vampires, werewolves and humans alike. As if they weren't in enough trouble, the original vampire has got a dose of werewolf DNA too and they've got a super-hybrid on their respectively wolfy and rubberised tails.

With the story and mythology firmly established by the first film, you'd think the second outing could put on the brakes and work on developing its characters; but, hey, sod that, let's throw a whole heap more ideas at the screen at and keep the pace breakneck! Yep, this is more of the same exposition and action-heavy mix of style and sexy. We wouldn't have it any other way. There's loads more back story, more great monster designs and some fun new characters, plus a more than doubled budget, which really shows.

Verdict: Classic

Rise of The Lycans

We take a step back in time with this prequel to expand on Sheen's flashback from the first movie. We find out how Beckinsale stand-in Rhona Mitra and this unlikely werewolf Spartacus came to make the werewolf with two backs and royally irritate head vampire Bill Nighy.

Of course, it makes no sense, whatsoever, retcons the first movie and is filled with plot holes; and the less said about how exactly the timeline of these movies works, the better (Beckinsale would be at least two hundred years old before she became a vampire...). Still, despite the decline in quality from Len Wiseman to first-time director Patrick Tatopoulos, this is still a solid slice of fun and we love Mitra; even if the film never escapes us knowing the ending before it even starts.

Verdict: Better than you remember

Awakening

Captured by a Resident Evil-style corporation who put her in cryogenic suspension, Beckinsale wakes up to find herself in a V For Vendetta-style fascist future where vampires and werewolves are persecuted, X-Men-style. She dons a Torchwood-style military coat and heads off to find Speedman. There's some stuff with a child and sewer-werewolfs, but, bloody hell, who cares? This is awful.

With the lukewarm reception Rise of The Lycans received and the world having screaming fits over Robert Pattinson, you'd think Underworld would have called it a day. Then, all of a sudden, this fourth outing appeared out of nowhere with relatively little fanfare. This is Underworld, but not as we know it: Nighy's out, Sheen's out, Speedman's out, the Underworld back story and mythology (the saga's saving grace) is out, character is out and sense is out. Despite script credits for creator Wiseman and the legendary J M Straczynski, this plot is so generic, a quick keyword find and replace could turn it into Blade 4, Resident Evil 6 or even bleeding Twilight 5! It's just fanfic, with the most original idea being a slightly larger werewolf and the biggest surprise that Beckinsale even bothered to turn up.

Verdict: Best forgotten