VideoReligion Cult Film Review

McMurderer (2021) Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Sun, 28 Aug 2022 02:08:00 +0000

I don't fuck with McDonald's. Don't think I mean that pretentiously; I eat my share of crap, just not that crap. Sure, I can choke down a McGriddle in a pinch, and their coffee is better than Starbucks, but there are only a handful of food options that the golden arches would win against, given a choice. Most times, I can't even make it to the counter, as the smell of the lobby alone turns me off. It's more than gross protein shapes and off-putting odors–there is a heavy vibe in the cursed eatery that gets to me. McDonald's aura is more oppressive than the average fast food chain, as if it carries the harvested souls of the underpaid workforce and leveled rainforests. McDonald's is an unstoppable nightmare as far as I'm concerned, representing more than just horrible grub. Combine the fucked up hell-place with clandestine (human) murder, dramatic father-son relationships, and ugly shot-on video brain fuckery; you have a different thing altogether; then you have Mcmurderer.

McMurderer is an intense (Mc) flurry of trademark infringement, bodily fluid, and trashy unbridled chaos. Forebodingly, it opens with some trivia on heart disease before fading footage of a McDonald's taken in a distinctly nowhere town. Inside, we meet this universe’s Ronald McDonald. He appears superimposed on a still image of the restaurant's interior via some liberally keyed green-screen effects, which make the scene look like an Thrill Kill Kult music video. A staggering, aging "McClown '' denies being drunk to the camera and then proceeds to disrobe mid-rant. Suddenly, a man who only speaks in subtitles brandishes a knife and kills the naked, probably hammered clown. After some horrific credits featuring an idle clown mask, the film follows the son of Mcclown and his baby-headed friend. Things only get more bizarro from there, with a tale containing VHS tapes full of morbid secrets, one creative hands-on resurrection, and more oddities than the per customer limit of 39c Mcdonald's cheeseburgers in 1998.

Once again, in an article on this site, I am obliged to give a warning: not everyone will make it through this one. You have to be down to watch micro-budget, DIY, b-horror-comedy garbage that often comes across like it doesn't want you to. To drive this point home, the text on the back of my copy where the synopsis would be is simply "Nothing that I say will prepare you for this trash. Good luck". The movie is nasty, sporadic, and the cinematic equivalent of suffering a thirty-minute hallucinatory concussion before you die in a sticky ball-pit. Any of the above facts alone would make me happy. However, there is something more if you are willing to make the trip through its runtime. Inside this three-course value-meal of uncomfortable energy, unexplainable actions, and semen-covered french fries is a fucked up, sad-ass poem. You may not believe me, and maybe you shouldn't, but I swear to John Carpenter, it gets me right in the feels. This bonus emotion is an enjoyably odd pairing with the impure, awkward confusion, like cheddar on cheesecake or getting a boner while watching a knife fight.

Mcmurderer tells its story through shaky VHS, with varying levels of decay. Including its tape within a tape, there are probably more than four different recording qualities on display here, tethered by expressive editing and inherent madness. The audio simulates the range of 90s car commercials--scenes jumping from too quiet to strikingly loud. It's impossible to chase with the volume knob, so I recommend embracing it as part of the experience. Sprinkled atop the ever-shifting noise is an impressive but unhinged score composed mainly of playful lo-fi synth loops. Fittingly completed by the Rock and Roll Mcdonald's cover by Gianni Vitale, the film’s soundtrack holds the whole lumpy sack of fluid strangeness together like a membrane. For me, the final product serves a balanced blend of nearly incomprehensible presentation, a greasy atmosphere, and lovable unbridled nut-baggery.

Janice.click (aka Steven Reifsteck) is the writer/director of several shorts, including The Curse of the Fatwolf (2022) and Hunting A Pigman (Part One and Two). He has several artistic endeavors, including self-described "cursed art," and has acted in other creators' films as well. I was made aware of the movie via Instagram, where click is very active with updates on future film productions. McMurderer is available in several versions, including an Unhappy Meal VHS bundle for the kiddos. My DVD copy came homemade in a slim case packed with stickers that will be perfect for my Trapper Keeper. Also, if you use IMDB, the creator told me on Instagram that the goal was “to make it the worst film on there.” So if you've got a few minutes, do them a favor and give the cinematic ode to American cheese a lousy rating.

Just as I can't identify the ingredients of a Big Mac, I won't be able to describe Mcmurderer fully. For about 22 minutes, the viewer is treated to a brown paper bag's worth of fantastic madness, fast food, and mystery stains beyond words. It was a fable that had not yet been told, and it will be impossible to imitate. Without it, I would never have beheld a solid orange homunculus/golem made from cum and a sleeve of french fries birthed from a dumpster. My distaste for McDonald's only makes the film better, as the entire brand already gave me the creeps. Also, as a positive side effect, now I'll think of this film when I pass the demonic, red, and gold shit-hole; instead of remembering when the number four made a regurgitated reappearance all over my friend's lawn after I was drunk enough to eat there one night.

25m | 2021

Director: Janice.click

Writer: Janice.click

Links:

Janice.click on Instagram

Janice.click Homepage

Full Movie on director's YouTube

Janice.click Shop

Review by:

Streaming Bloody Murder: Nobody Sleeps in the Woods Tonight, Revealer, Hellblazers

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Mon, 08 Aug 2022 14:14:00 +0000

I am a fan of physical media. More than a fan, I am a practitioner and an apostle. Therefore, naturally, I am apprehensive about the new streaming era. Online digital media comes with a slew of scary-ass problems, including, but not limited to, ownership questions, availability problems, and compounding costs.

However, watching movies online is convenient. I love to get what I want when I want it –at a stroke, just like anyone else. Looking through 2500 physical movies is fun, but I must admit, it can be overwhelming. Plus, with the lack of rental stores, all we have are these streaming services to replicate the experience of looking at covers on a shelf. So for those of a certain era, this might be the only version they get. The internet is a place where someone can find new cinema to watch; ultimately, that is a good thing in my book. In that spirit, here are some films I enjoyed but only found through streaming services.

Nobody Sleeps in the Woods Tonight (2020)

As he flipped through Netflix one evening, my roommate asked me what movie we should watch.

I garbled back "slasher" through a mouth full of BLT, so he chose a movie by the cover from the Horror category that he felt might fulfill the prompt. This mostly random pick ended up being Nobody Sleeps in the Woods Tonight, and BLT night was a success once again.

The Polish film Nobody Sleeps in the Woods Tonight (2020) tributes, sometimes through direct imitation, classics like Friday the 13th, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and Wrong Turn (2), complete with gory practical effects. It plays with some cliches, humorously at times, but avoids the pit of parody and doesn't mind having a good time with its mutant hillbilly massacre. I dug the lumpy killers, and their penchant for playing out some classic slasher kills (one fittingly looks a lot like Victor Crowley's Polish cousin, with a worse complexion). There are turns in the plot which took me by surprise--including some less than helpful unrelated encounters for the victims and the mostly unelaborated twist on the murder-billie’s origins (the sequel gives more away).

For me, it was a perfect serving of violent, simple fun with plenty of throwback moments and a few new approaches. I only wish we had watched it in Polish with subs, as the audio mixing on the dub was terrible. The unique soundtrack/score, however, was a high point. I have no idea what drugs went into creating that beautiful mash of sounds, but I would like some. I guess I didn't know how much I needed a nice backwoods slasher. I enjoyed the sequel (also on Netflix), but it is a whole different monster with a vibe all its own.

IMDB | Netflix

Revealer (2022)

Revealer (2022) is a small-scale horror flick with an oddly charming take on classic tropes featuring raving evangelists, strippers, and demons. It's a very silly premise, forcing two opposites to hunker down as a team and fight off the forces of evil. The plot’s situation is a well-used number, but the movie pulls it off with its own dance moves.

The film takes place in the 80s, which worried me some, as I have had faux-nostalgia fatigue lately due to Stranger Things-mania. However, this film didn't lean on that factor enough for it to wear on me. In fact, the choice of era is mostly utilized for stripper music and the perfect flavor of TV preacher.

The majority of the film is contained to a cramped single set with a small dungeon crawl later in the movie. It has a somewhat micro Prince of Darkness thing going, but with plenty of neon pink lighting and a Lucifer that resembles a weekly Buffy antagonist more than a jar of Ninja Turtle ooze. Often, the demon costume looks like a death-metal Power Rangers bad guy, but I'll take that over the CGI monsters from the last few big-budget movies I have seen. The two lead actors help avoid drag during the plot's slower moments, although their vernacular isn't exactly realistic to the period. Their chemistry, paired with the writing, makes the characters fun to hang out with. I could see the two having some weekly adventures on a television show after this ordeal. If I had any gripes, I would have liked more of the television sermons weaved in. I grew up on Paul Verhoeven, and in-universe television propaganda is my jam. Overall I'm glad it popped up on Shudder. As a bonus, one of the writers co-created Hack/Slash, of which I loved every issue.

IMDB | Shudder

Hellblazers (2022)

Hellblazers (2022) wins you over in waves. One moment it can balance its camp just right and make for solid b-movie fun, and the next, it's taking on the motif of an unused television pilot. The great moments make it worth the watch, whether from pitch-perfect comedic performances by legends or its throwback special effect work. It assembles an all-star genre cast including Adrienne Barbeau, Bruce Dern, Meg Foster, and Tony Todd, each bringing something worthwhile to the supernatural horror comedy.

Another one that takes place in the 80s, Hellblazers’ plot sees a cartoon-mode Billy Zane and his cronies unleash a demon to feed on a town (full of cult celebrities). The practical effects range from old-school awesomeness to fun bad and are often packaged with ambitious kill scenes. It's a movie with a shit-ton of apparent genre-love injected into it, and it got a few out-loud chuckles from me. It will not blow your mustache off, but the cheesed-out horror-comedy is solid entertainment.

As an aside, I applaud Tubi for becoming the TNT of the streaming era by giving cyber babies a place to find random,fun trash for free. Plus, they are pretty damn intuitive for knowing I would click anything with Tony Todd holding a sledgehammer on the cover.

IMDB | Tubi

So streaming isn't all bad--it comes through sometimes. Which is cool, and I can admit that. Nonetheless, I will still be hoarding physical copies of films for the time being. The future is unpredictable--and you can't roll around naked in digital copies. I feel better with the movies safe at home, where the Disney g-men will edit the butt from my copy of Splash over my dead body.

by:

very fine crap videos Official Site
IMDB

The Bliss (2018) Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Sun, 17 Jul 2022 04:47:00 +0000

I try not to judge a person’s taste in art. Many people have these painted black pieces of sheet metal shaped like cowboys where I live. The sharp, ghostly shadows are welded to their mailboxes or often have a cloth handkerchief and a real lasso attached. It’s fucking terrible, and I have no idea why they exist. I'm not one to use the word tacky, but if I did, that's what I would call these eyesores--along with their almost as shitty kin that sculpture made from license plates (another favorite around here). Fuck them both, but as I said, I make an effort to be accepting because even though it’s not in front of my house for all to see, I have my own art that might leave people confused and angry as well, for example--very fine crap’s short film: The Bliss.

The Bliss offers a slice of life from a hellish dimension adjacent to our own but with enflamed deformity and extra violence. The setting is not unlike a hot day in a shitty town and is topped off with an excess of grotesque mutants. On the whole, it is discomforting in the best way, akin to a well-crafted painting that reaches into your brain and touches something you had hidden away. There is no dialog, only squeaks, and grunts. At no point did I know why anything was happening--by design, I assume, leaving it up to the viewer to sift through the slime to find their own meaning. Often, the footage feels like a normal routine for the subjects, taking in sights that would constitute nightmares to us.

In the film's perplexing opening, a hideously deformed geriatric in a wheelchair rolls home to relax and eat a dinner of random body parts. For whatever reason, that particular serving sets the malformed senior citizen off, so it goes to the fridge and is disappointed to find more of the same (I think-- there are just bloody bones everywhere and he looked bummed).

Soon after, the obfuscated story takes a gruesome stroll through an alleyway to the presence of what looks like a most unfortunate, homeless cenobite with an exposed nipple and a chronic illness holding a skull and some entrails like it is a bundle of joy. This heartwarming scene doesn't last long, however, because the intro’s old man-thing seemingly abducts the object of affection from the bipedal chunk of flesh, and they all head to his place for a round of torture focused on genitalia. I don’t want to give anything away, as this film is best viewed while forming your own interpretations, and there is little more than these horrendous acts on screen constituting the work. Also, to be completely honest, that's about all I can put in stone about the plot, and I may have already misrepresented it. It's the kind of film that will have you asking questions like, "Are those two things on different levels of the food chain or just really kinky friends?”, "Is that a baby?” and "Was that real insertion that flashed on the screen?". It also must be said that the display is intense and, without a doubt, only for a very niche audience.

Even before mutilation, the characters are quivering humanesque figures with broken features, somewhere between a smooshed lump of clay and one of those creepy apple head dolls. With the damaged tape effect, everything on screen is painted in a bright, burning hue, and the picture can come to a boil in oranges and yellows. Without taking away from the fucked-up grime, the choices in camera work have moments of expertise between unhinged craftsmanship and an overlong focus on the gruesome visuals.

As beautiful as it is a violation of the senses, The Bliss contains some of the best low-budget practical props I have seen in a long time. There are varying qualities on display, but the delicate eyebrows and eyelashes on a few fractured prosthetic craniums could make a strip-mall cosmetologist cry. If the whole presentation and design weren't so outlandish, some of these chunks of synthetic human could confuse Charlie Sheen into calling the FBI.

The score gives its musical narration to each indescribable scene, taking over for the lack of spoken word, telling the audience the intended mood with digital synth distorted to match the camera quality. It's a crunchy circus of beats and tones that pull their weight by successfully highlighting absurd comedy and uncomfortable horror.

very fine crap videos (stylized without capitals) hails from Detroit, comprised of artist/musician/director James Bell and Amanda Bell. The production company grew from James Bell’s first film, a documentary called DOG DICK which captured his less than ideal surroundings at the time. All the music was made by James Bell, who does the scoring on each of his films under the name Kids Kill Kids. The Bliss is the seventh of what is currently a ten-film catalog, with original, unsettling box illustrations that match their indefinable contents. Also available from their online store is screen-used, visceral props, which I’m sure could strike up some great conversation at your next wine and cheese party.

If this film is any indication, James Bell is making unique cinema pieces that defy sacred norms. These will not be for everyone, or if I had to guess, hardly anyone, but if you are part of that elite group of sickos (myself included), you will be rewarded with a morsel of strangeness, unlike anything you have seen. As far as I’m concerned, great art cannot always cast a wide net and can often lose people with its approach. Art can’t please everyone because everyone has unique perspectives, experiences, and tastes. Be it metal sculpture or strange cinema, the work has to speak to the viewer on some level. For me, that can often mean losing that bag of Hot Cheetos and Modelo I had instead of lunch, others-- a stupid two-dimensional cowboy in their yard.

23m | 2018

Director: James Bell

Writer: James Bell

LINKS

KIDS KILL KIDS Bandcamp

Review by:

https://vinegarsyndrome.com/

Basement Communion - Episode X.3: Six-String Samurai, Vinegar Syndrome, MakeFlix and Redemption/Salvation

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Mon, 17 May 2021 15:38:00 +0000

For this episode, GrindhouseCellar and I (RevTerry) take a look at some recent Vinegar Syndrome releases including their new partner label outings and the beloved Six-String Samurai. Next, we go over some of MakeFlix's partnerships and our respect for the Redemption/Salvation label.

Revterry and GrindhouseCellar sit down virtually to discuss films and get intoxicated.

Going into the third episode, the duo is already a few beers deep and diving into recent Vinegar Syndrome Blu-ray releases, including the partner labels, Six-String Samurai, and more. Afterward, they discuss MakeFlix, the complications of branding, Fred Olen Ray, and the longstanding Redemption/Salvation label.

Projects (etc.) mentioned in the episode (always #SupportIndieFilm):

-Vinegar Syndrome:

Partner Labels: https://vinegarsyndrome.com/collections/frontpage-partner-labels

Love After Death: https://vinegarsyndrome.com/collections/frontpage-partner-labels/products/love-after-death-the-good-the-bad-and-the-beautiful-agfa-something-weird

Adoration: https://vinegarsyndrome.com/collections/frontpage-partner-labels/products/adoration-altered-innocence

Prospect: https://vinegarsyndrome.com/collections/frontpage-partner-labels/products/adoration-altered-innocence

Walking the Edge: https://vinegarsyndrome.com/collections/frontpage-partner-labels/products/walking-the-edge-fun-city-editions

Six-String Samurai: https://vinegarsyndrome.com/collections/frontpage/products/six-string-samurai-vsu

Home Grown Horrors: Volume One: https://vinegarsyndrome.com/collections/frontpage/products/home-grown-horrors-volume-one

-MAKEFLIX

https://makeflix.com/

Haunting Fear: https://makeflix.com/products/haunting-fear

Robot Ninja: https://makeflix.com/products/robot-ninja

Children of Camp Blood: https://makeflix.com/products/children-of-camp-blood

Mulva: The Whole Shitty Affair: https://makeflix.com/products/mulva-the-whole-shitty-affair

-SALVATION FILMS (Redemption, RedemptionTV, Jezebel and Sacrament)

https://www.salvation-films.com/

RedemptionTV Streaming: https://redemptiontv.net/

Store: https://www.salvation-films.com/product-category/films-main/blu-ray-2/

VideoReligion Links:

Night Kaleidoscope Review by RevTerry

Six-String Samurai Review by Elizabeth R. Betsy

Violent Delights AKA Beber De Tu Sangre Review by RevTerry

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Slasher House (2012) Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Tue, 04 May 2021 16:41:00 +0000

Cinematic universes got really fucking popular recently and have only slightly died down since the peak a few years ago. Before that, it was little stuff like spin-offs, fan service crossovers, and artist driven connections/easter eggs. Then suddenly, every action blockbuster wants to ignite four to nine other movies to accompany them. Initially, I welcomed the early versions, for the most part; they were worth it for the novelty alone despite some duds. On paper, the idea of a shared fictional world is something I can get behind. As a kid, I was a fan of the Red Sonja flick, read superhero comics, and on the TV front, Xena will forever be the better antagonist in her respected universe. However, after Disney's MCU success, a grip of BIG studios (including Disney) announced new connected universes based around existing IPs. Despite the unwarranted enthusiasm at the time, none of these would arise outside of a couple of false starts. In fact, after a few mangled projects forcefully grafted with lead-ins and name dropping (except Dracula Untold, I kind of liked that one--fight me), it became clear they didn't really want to have a spider-web of unique stories; they just wanted to sell five or six movies at a time. It was a disappointment at worst and tedious at best. Luckily (and it's often forgotten), Hollywood isn't the only player in the game, and as always, you can look to less mainstream sources for what you're missing--in this case, a chance at an interlocking series of narratives. For example, the Mycho Universe and its inaugural crossover Slasher House (2012).

Red (Eleanor James) wakes up in what looks like a run-down prison cell with no memory of who she is or how she got there. Confused and wearing only lipstick, she wanders around a bit until a cache opens up with some clothes. After getting dressed, she leaves the open cell, hoping to find a way out or understand what happened. She soon meets the awkward but helpful Nathan (Adam Dillon), and our crimson protagonist learns she has been tossed into a modern dungeon full of murderous specimens. Accompanying the two are an assortment of legendary "slashers," and the questions about their shared captivity start to stack. Answers as to why she is there won't come cheap, neither will an escape.

A lot is going on in Slasher House, and not just because there are four plus bad guys crammed into an abandoned asylum. Infused into the horror tribute is a spice-cabinet of several genres with a sprinkling of LSD and Batman Forever. It's not a movie for purists of any type. There are some creepy moments and some more vital development, but the film isn't above playing camp generously at appropriate times. The repetition and predictability aren't avoided along the way, but the ingredients share a tint of trademark insanity that seems to incorporate just about anything. It employs an intentional unrealistic tone and video game-style setups. The whole adventure takes place in a single location, and the plot makes it essentially a pulp fantasy dungeon, with RPG-style event triggers.

A much larger world is alluded to though there are just a few scenes outside of a single asylum's walls.

The film comes across as a jumping-off point, not because it is unfinished, but because it's bursting like a spider-sack with natural room to grow. More accurately, it feels as though a handful of adventures preceding this would be an all-star showdown, only they haven't been made yet. Every character in the movie is endowed with backstory, whether we hear it all or not. It is as if somewhere in a notebook or just in someone's brain, they have already lived out a rise, fall, and in-between exploits. Subplots and character development are handed out by way of flashback, often slower than the rest of the film. They are a bit of a mixed bag but never stick around long enough to be a problem. The rest of the movie is also over-caffeinated, so any downtime is made up for in other places.

Overall, storytelling takes as much from superhero comics as it does horror. An apparent influence is common throughout but between a wide range and unique hyperactive blending style, the introduction to the Mycho universe is a living, breathing creature all its own.

Slasher House is the first full-length feature in the Mycho Productions shared universe headed by writer/director MJ Dixon. An independently published comic line joins the series, and there are plans for other mediums and merchandise. Following the movie's release, there have been almost ten (I think, SH 3 being ten when it comes out) follow-ups spreading across a shared fictional timeline. This includes Slasher House 2 and the spin-offs it has already spawned.

It would be a shame not to take a look at the rogue's gallery the film introduces, many of which have since had features of their own.

Among the "Slashers" we have:

Cleaver: a sweaty take on your average killer clown. I guess there had to be one, and in all fairness, the sheer greasy and almost feral presence gives it an edge over the majority of cinema's murderous weirdos in greasepaint. For genuine horror content in this flick, Cleaver is your guy. Following this somewhat quick debut, he appears in his own films Cleaver: Rise of the Killer Clown (2015) and Cleavers: Killer Clowns (2019). Here he is played by Andrew M. Greenwood.

Thorn: Thorn and his skull-mask amalgamate the icons in hulking, unstoppable stabbers and toss in some early 2000s supervillain for that extra shine. Think Jason and Doom 2099 had a metal-head baby with Micheal Myers backstory from the 4,5 and 6. In fact, if you ever wanted a continuation of those themes, Thorn's standalone films (Legacy of Thorn, Mask of Thorn) might have a passionate, low-budget way to scratch that itch. Before Slasher House, the Thorn character appeared in a self-titled short, although I don't know if that is canon. Brought to life in this case by actor Alex Grimshaw.

Nathan Robbins/The Hollower: Nathan is a helpful dude with glasses.

The Hollower is a killer goblin spirit… I think. Explaining anything else would be a spoiler. Either way, you can catch them both in the prequel Hollower (2016).

Charlie Corben: Corben Spends (Wellington Grosvenor) most of the movie talking shit and playing mind games from behind bars. He looks like a tow-truck driver, speaks like a mystic farmer's almanac, and has a thing for removing people's brains.

It's hard not to bring up the film's technical qualities without bringing up the apparent genre spirit and scrappy, dedicated motivations. With a budget of about $7,000, the movie's scope could get lost in ambition, but Mycho productions manage a consistent style that incorporates most limitations into an imaginative soup.

A policy of recoloring everything green-red marries the Matrix sequels and segments of Natural

Born Killers into a low-budget graphic novel. While the near-night vision look is a common aesthetic choice, it functions here to pair all the stand-out elements without clashing. The special effects run from great old-school practical work to Solo cups and paper mache’ in the same nature as the eclectic writing. Some of the more straightforward moments have a very potent slimy layer that sells a neo-grindhouse motif. Just as quickly, however, a monster can pop out that looks like it was made by someone’s cool grandma from household items on Halloween. Where it might lose some people is the Hollower, as he has a bridge-troll in a school play type vibe. The performance behind it is strong, but it pulled a giggle out of me when he creeped out into the frame. This broad range of techniques could have made the film a lot more disjointed than the final product we end up with. The overarching style absorbs everything into a coherent picture. The whole of the project is above verisimilitude, putting stock in its own reality. Costuming is one of my favorite aspects (and not just because of Red's lack of wardrobe in the beginning). All style choices are loud amalgamations of tropes that could have been tailor-made to become action figures. Some of the characters even get into anime-like extremes, including keeping a similar pose throughout the film for that perfect angle and shadow. Each outfit speaks to its wearers in canon stomping ground, sometimes perfectly balancing ham and grit.

Slasher House is a shotgun blast of original ideas and tributes that will probably satisfy as many late 90s Batman fans as horror regulars. The flurry of concepts is confined to a small taste that promises a vast outside world of fan tributes and genre love. Whatever the resources involved, the finished product paints a psychedelic noir atmosphere with dark ink. I dig it, and my patronage has been rewarded (in most cases) with each new in-universe release. Even if you disagree about this entry-level piece, I recommend checking out some of the standalone releases as they tell their own stories in differing ways. Hollywood could take a few notes about cinematic universes, but let's just let them tire themselves out on that one-- it's probably better for everyone.

1h 32min | 2012

Director: Mj Dixon

Writer: Mj Dixon

LINKS

Mycho Official

On IMDB

Support Slasher House 3 on Kickstarter

On Amazon

Review by:

RevTerry

Vampire Cop (1990) / Cannibal Cop (2017) Reviews by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Sat, 27 Feb 2021 06:56:00 +0000

While I'm always down for some so-called abhorrent cinema or graphic fiction in other mediums, when it comes to real-life life, I'm a wuss. Take gore, for example; when it comes to movie blood and guts, you can lay it on thick. Rip off genitals, make fountains of red from former living humans, and smear flesh into McNuggets slurry--no matter what, I'm game. Actual blood, however, makes me light-headed, even in small amounts. A few years ago, I cut my finger at the Best Buy and almost passed out right there in the retail hellscape. I'm lucky I didn't end up in the freezer next door at Petco next to an unloved bird. It's bizarre how those things work, I'm a person who loves the most horrific violence in cinema, but outside of a screen, a drop of people-juice has me fainting like one of those goats. Speaking of things I only like in the movies, let's talk about cops--specifically the titular cops in Donald Farmer's "...Cop" movies.

If (like me) you are a fan of frugal psychotronic genre films, Donald Farmer needs no introduction, as he is the man behind such camp classics as Cannibal Hookers (1987), Demon Queen (1987), and Shark Exorcist (2015). However, If you're "normal," The low-budget film director is one of cinema's legendary b-film ronin that has been wandering from producers and exploitable topics since the 80s. Lately, Farmer usually goes for laughs over scares, but he has dabbled in all kinds of genre trash festivities with remarkable range, bringing people like me joy for over three decades. Starting with his work in Super 8mm horror to his modern comedic corn-fests, he honed a talent for making reliably entertaining, z-grade cheese.

To be clear, the two films are (as far as I know) unrelated outside of the director and the last half of their titles. Each goes for a different type of story, and the time between is evident in the technical qualities. I just like to think Cannibal Cop (2017) is the spiritual sequel to Vampire Cop (1990) despite a lack of plot, background, or evidence to give me that idea.

Vampire Cop (1990)

Vampire Cop (1990) depicts a bargain-bin rendition of the classic cop and reporter team-up with a vampiric twist. The blood-sucking po-po is our protagonist (Ed Cannon), fulfilling his duties as the archetypal "jock" leading law-man, only in this case, (secretly) he is also a crime-fighting vampire. Somehow, he has made this work without scrutiny and gained a sturdy reputation. To be honest, he doesn't seem much like a vampire or a cop and instead could be an underdressed superhero, barely scraping by with the charm of a hunk in a late-night cable flick. Anyway, sooner or later, he takes on the local mob boss. And because being a star-cop/blood-sucking avenger could be a lonely life, fate teams him up with an underrated scream-queen Melissa Moore (as journalist Melanie Roberts) when fighting against the underworld. Also, Fuad Ramses (Mal Arnold) is there at some point, but he doesn't cook anything (or anyone).

After opening with a canned 80s rock song that I liked a lot more than I should have, the film gets a running start with cornball dialog and inexplicable rapid-fire situations in a neon cardboard alternate universe. Aesthetically, the set could be a Miami Vice stage play. Every scene includes some tinted lighting, and it looks like someone hotboxed the room before the camera started. There is a lot to enjoy between credits: hypnotic dialogue of excited cliches, awkward steamy moments, and a great use of color. It would be a robust and rewatchable mess of silly tropes and fan service, that is if it weren't for the random moments of overlong silence. By this I mean, the soundtrack, dialogue, and effects are all missing in segments that seem to go on forever. There isn't an error in the transfer; It's some kind of style choice and usually accompanies slow motion. The first time is not so bad but later into the runtime, it becomes a reoccurring event, seemingly padding the clock with blurry colors and little else. It's not damaging enough to ruin the silly fun of it all, but it's too noticeable not to be annoying.

As a whole, Vampire Cop is much of what I love about b-movies, with an exaggerated example of what makes people not trust my recommendations. Only the gods know why, but the film has several scenes that have no sound. It is all part of the quirky, one-of-a-kind ride-along.

Cannibal Cop (2017)

With a few boops on the nose of current events (for 2017 and now--unfortunately), Cannibal Cop's plot runs amuck, leaving behind the title for voodoo, zombies, and bloggers. Does being a magical zombie count as a cannibal? Are all zombies cannibals? I mean, It would be cannibalism the other way around since the undead cop is made of human flesh--so that tracks...right?

Jennifer (Channing Dodson) is doing some cop-watching with her cellphone camera when she comes upon an act of police brutality. She witnesses Detective Warbeck (Jason Crowe), the corrupt cop in question, beating a drug dealer to death. Fatefully this murder rubs a voodoo priestess relative the wrong way, who resurrects the slaine man. In turn, the freshly undead victim bites Warbeck out of vengeance, turning him into the "cannibal cop "...okay, this movie is definitely about zombies, not cannibals.

Despite the loose disregard for mostly agreed-upon terms, Cannibal Cop is the kind of fun you expect from Farmer, evolved with time but with fewer resources in the prop department. In contrast to Vampire's padded runtime body, this more modern film seems packed with random stray plot-lines--and still only comes in at around seventy minutes. There is very little of the so-called cannibal cop (or anyone even dressed in a police uniform), as it revolves around a cluster of side characters, chiefly Jennifer. Instead of being the antagonist, the titular character is more of a monster--kind of like Maniac Cop (but not really...at all).

Ditching the film for a digital camera, the 2000s Donald Farmer has a degree of polish, putting overall technical quality somewhere between Hard to Die (1990) and a new Full Moon flick. The older, grimey flavor could be missed in some aspects, but the new crisp editing makes the equally batshit dialogue snappy and energetic. Gore-wise it's more than a little lackluster, but it provides full-service b-movie value that moves along smoothly, with the bedside manner of a cartoon.

Here we have two reasonably different films, both by Donald farmer and about cops with particular circumstances involving food choice. Farmer has been giving us cinematic oddities for what seems like ages, and I'm a little surprised there isn't another title in his filmography that could complete an unofficial trilogy (if I missed one, let me know on social media). Vampires, cops, and cannibals can all be fun. You know, as long as they are inside a film, and fictional. That way, they can't harm my friends and family or incarcerate me. I'm guessing my growing fear of blood wouldn't go over well in prison.

LINKS:

Both Titles (and more from the director) Available from SRS Cinema

Cannibal Cop on IMDB

Vampire Cop on IMDB

Cannibal Cop on Amazon

Vampire Cop on Amazon

Review by:

RevTerry

The Vick Campbell Short Gore Film Collection (Vol.1) Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Thu, 11 Feb 2021 00:50:00 +0000

Do you like strange, low-budget films, gore, and random butt-metal? If you said yes, you sound cool, and we should hang out--but also, you should look into the early work of Vick Campbell.

Spanish filmmaker Vick Campbell has gained a small international cult following for his 2010s low-budget horror flicks. With films like Erotic Nights of the Blind Dead (2007) and Derangement (2016), Vick made a name for himself while seemingly paying tribute to genre legends with modern, frugal resources and grime. Before this, however, Campbell cut his teeth with a flurry of splatter-ridden experiments in shot-on-video horror during the early 2000s. Recently, four of these DIY splatter films saw a limited run release from Toxic Filth Video on DVD-- which is how I got my hands on them. The Vick Campbell Short Gore Film Collection (Vol.1) contains four microbudget short films that feature demonic forces, ridiculous masked killers, and a back alley exorcism.

Barbarie Carnicera

Within the first seconds of Barbarie Carnicera, screeching garage-rock drowns-out the electronic background hum, which is always a good sign. A group of men visits the local occult practitioner because one of the friends promises it will be "a blast." When they arrive, things don't go well, and the masked "voodoo doctor" decides not to let them go home. Soon, zombies pop up (painted with what looks like mustard), the adjacent cemetery gets foggy, and there is a loving, barebones Romero-style gut-buffet finale to take us home. It's all somewhat inexplicable but equally enjoyable. For the record, the dude in the cloak and mask has some genuinely creepy moments. If I saw that guy running around in a random cemetery, I would mind my own business and keep stepping. At the very least, I wouldn't want to ruin any good LARPing.

Cerebros Podridos

Jumping further into the surreal and adding some off-kilter comedy, Cerebros Podridos follows off-brand, gloveless Freddy Krueger and his buddy the mummy as they abduct women to carve up. This ups the ante in the type of gore on display so far, even if the hard plastic nipples betray the illusion a bit. It's a little repetitive as it strings together a short pattern of a scene type; however, nothing sticks around long enough for that to be a problem. It has a silly uncontained attitude, even going low-rent Benny Hill at the end. For some reason, I got the idea that it could have been a Butthole Surfers music video (take from that what you can). I liked the zany, mean-spirited madness, and the ending dance party is a plus.

Exorcismo En Sants

While it is probably the more somber of the group, Exorcismo has the classic tropes and includes grainy hints of the eye for style that make the filmmaker's later full-length work stand out. The piece is also the part of the collection most reliant on dialogue, as I likely could have equally enjoyed the other three with or without subtitles. Besides all that, it still nails the backyard gross-out theme and fits in. The incredibly dedicated demonic lady's makeup looks like it cleared out the fridge. Plus, there is some blue milk! At times, this tale felt like it had escaped from Olaf Ittenbach's anthology The Burning Moon (1992). The 42-minute flick is an honorable, slimy, no-budget homage to the possession genre, lubricated with grime and goop.

Valencia Gore

I love this one, although I had seen it before this collection. It's pretty much a Spanish cousin to Violent Shit, and I could easily watch a feature-length movie. In the twenty-six minute project, an escaped mental patient in a party mask hacks and slashes his way through people hanging out in the woods. This, for some reason, includes a purple-haired girl in a bodysuit that looks like anime cosplay. It is barebones, excited to show off its homemade guts, and wants to gross you out. I think the white mask dude needs to come back for a full-Length feature, some sequels, and a cross-over showdown with Andreas Schnaas' Karl the Butcher. In all seriousness, and to my great enjoyment, the amateur, cinematic blitz is just a bunch of stabbing, people running around trees, and pure soul.

Vick Campbell pushes DIY gore cinema to imaginative, often disgusting places, a’ la Olaf Ittenbach, Andreas Schnaas, and a dash of classic euro-sleaze. The showcase of fucked up, passionate, camcorder-horror with more motivation than capital makes a satisfying variety pack of some of my favorite things. If that sounds like your kind of entertainment too, the director's work is worth a look. Watch it with your like-minded friends that totally exist.

LINKS:

At Toxic Filth Video

Violencia Gore IMDB

Derangement at Amazon

Erotic Nights Of The Blind Dead at Amazon

Review by:

RevTerry

Sweetheart (2019) Quick Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Wed, 20 Jan 2021 04:46:00 +0000

I’m always hoping there will be an aquatic monster-movie phase coming, and the movie machine will start pumping out cheesy fishman flicks for a year or so--something like Humanoids from the Deep (1980) meets the shark-movie craze. I shouldn't hold my breath, though, as that trend likely won't happen. Luckily, I will probably survive the disappointment as long as solid pieces like Sweetheart come through occasionally.

The bones behind the story are a well-tread and straightforward territory. It avoids cliches by leaving the basic monster movie concepts paper-thin, as far as complexity goes, and plants the focus on human aspects seasoned throughout the runtime. It builds up enough drama to keep you sustained through a few monsterless days on the island, as the quick-study protagonist shows how badass she is. While delivered by a grounded rumble, the film's survival aspects are robust, even if our main character makes short work of basic life-sustaining tasks. By the time you get an actual look at the creature, you have seen Jenn (Kiersey Clemons) conquer several trials that would have folded most people. She isn't an action-movie superhuman exaggerated to the point that she loses her realistic aspects--just smart and strong. The final encounter comes together as earned both in the hero’s character-arch and in the moments the audience spends playing Jaws-style peek-a-boo with gil-man. It's a different kind of creature ride than we usually get lately--parts Predator (1987), Cast Away (2000), and the 90s Outer Limits show. The scare and creep factors are low as the film deals out butt-clenching tension instead. However, it is not goofy, so this won’t be one for the same night as the newest Super Shark movie. It's a quiet blow from left field that comes to life through stressful situations and small details.

I saw some complaints online (after viewing the film) about shark-thing's special effects, which surprised me. Personally, I was somewhat impressed that Blumhouse production had avoided the modern mainstream pitfalls. The creature is pulled off by a surprisingly restrained mix of practical and CGI effects. I thought the design was cool, but I also grew up with Ninja Turtles and Street Sharks. Plus, I was just glad it wasn't another CGI-only mess. A few times, the transitioning between the computer-rendered monster and the rubber one is a bit rough. Still, overall, I was happy with the technical qualities and its cinematic use. Often, the film feels relatively constrained by budget. I say "relatively" because It was a Blumhouse thing, so I doubt the cashflow was that low compared to some stuff I watch regularly. Maybe it was Blumhouse's AAA ball team. Either way, I would rank it quite high against a majority of their mainstream output, monster execution and all.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for aquatic monstrosities, and a well-crafted main character is a precious bonus. The bulk of the film is more survival-thriller than horror-flick, but the genres mesh together harmoniously. I would recommend it; however, I'm afraid that Blumhouse will greenlight a three-movie arch and two spin-offs if it gets too popular.

1h 22min | 2019

Director: J.D. Dillard

Writers: J.D. Dillard, Alex Hyner, and Alex Theurer

LINKS:

Review by:

RevTerry

Violent Delights AKA Beber De Tu Sangre (2020) Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Mon, 11 Jan 2021 02:18:00 +0000

On-again-off-again couple, Lizbeth (Jitzel Galicia) and Javier (Ernesto Salinas) are back together, this time with a baby on the way. Unfortunately, Javier's eyes soon start to wander, either by vampire magic or by his historical unfaithfulness (or both). His gaze lands on the pale, mysterious Alani (Ana Paulina Martinez), especially after a brief but heavy meet-up in a bar bathroom. Fatefully, Alani has some relationship woes herself because she is getting sick of the same old sucky-sucky with her long (long)-time vampire-mate Gabriel (Guillermo Zapata) and wants to have a child. Acting in kind, Gabriel swoops in on Lizbeth and her friends with his odd pick-up routine of possible mind reading and sexual innuendo. This ordeal all comes to a head in an extra awkward dinner with a menu that includes a passive-aggressive love triangle, a threesome, and bloody homicide.

Violent Delights' dreamy storytelling gives us greasy, romantic strain with angry baby-momma drama and gooey horror, each in hallucinatory, distinct servings. Troubled couples and their expiration dates play a big part in the plentiful discussions contained in every other scene. Sometimes this happens when someone is about to be "fed" on, but it usually leads to some romantic thrusting. A thick air of melodrama makes the whole thing smell like a soap opera but with more vampirism and tits. Ninety percent of the film depicts broken down relationships and the depressing aspects of love with sprinkles of boilerplate sleazy vampire activities. We have a quietly damaged bond of a bored, unhappy couple awaiting a child in one corner, in another, some vampire goth-kinksters wondering if life can be something more than just doing freaky shit all the time. Although it opens up more as the story moves along, the vampires, their lore, and powers are subtle, leaving the worldbuilding open to the viewer. The biggest hint about how fucked up things will get (eventually) is Gabriel, who is always creepy. He is wearing little more than a thin silk shirt for a hearty slice of the film, and his pick-up lines seem engineered to make you feel unclean. Thus, he is also the most prominent contributor to a type of vamp magnetism involved.

There is a hint of classic euro-sleaze, but the film plants its mood firmly in the realm of softcore porn. This is not a complaint, just a warning. Like the movie's on-screen ghouls, the dry erotica has an inexplicable draw to it, commanding attention. While it doesn't come through in every aspect, much of what materializes has a Jean Rollin and Jess Franco spirit to it. This Franco tributing is especially strong during an on-stage act of kinky theatre that plays out in its entirety. The blur of similar vibes and repeated talking points becomes almost meditative...until abruptly, drastically, the mood flips. My penchant for big chunks of sappy nudie-drama had me nearly invested when, out of nowhere, shit jumps into dark places both visually and storywise. Not to ruin any surprises, but the whole romantic back and forth goes out the window within the last fifteen minutes. Up to that point, there is a variety of nudity and arguments, but the plot drops all its stakes for gooey sadistic horror. It is lopsided, but the drop into carnage feels like a calculated break for violence. A Lot of the first two-thirds is washed away in those last moments; in their place, however, are satisfyingly gruesome acts of passion. Overall, both the nearly full-length softcore vampire movie and the fifteen minutes of gore-cinema are equal in enjoyment, for entirely different reasons.

Violent Delights AKA Beber De Tu Sangre AKA To Drink Your Blood is all about its blush shading, hanging out in and around beds, and dispensing gore whenever it desires. To the credit of promiscuous vamps everywhere, the film's choices are mysteriously intentional, utilizing quality low budget practical work, passionate care, and unique style. There is heavy use of pink, accomplished with on-set lighting, enough to make it seem like an alternative universe where every halogen bulb uses the tint. Only a handful of locations are employed, and about half have a bed in them. The minimalist soundtrack is a mix of TV-style mood chords and background noise, including an often heard train going by in multiple locations. For a while, those are the recurring aesthetics, pink places with trains nearby and bedrooms for lovemaking.

You know someone is a vampire in this movie because they are essentially naked and painted white. This makeup fluctuates (especially on Gabriel) throughout the film and makes me feel like I missed details about their affliction in regards to pigment. Awesome rotting flesh practicals make way for the surprisingly gory finale. The effect was my favorite included. It's not the most morbid thing portrayed, but I love a loose melting human suit done right. The eventual monster looks like a cross between Ivan Ooze from Power Rangers and the results of Himalayan yogurt's from Slime City (1988). To satisfy its sudden blood lust, it deploys a rapid-fire series of gruesome acts in a matter of minutes. To avoid spoilers, I won't go into detail, but it ends with some gut-wrenching infanticide and fresh necrophilia. No silly twist included--just pure, grim escalation.

Violent Delights is a neon cocktail of emotional baggage, odd sweaty encounters, and psychedelic vampirism finished off with a tragic crimson-stained chaser. It's a tale of erotism somewhere between David DeCoteau and Jean Rollin, told as a drug-induced break-up poem embellished by effective low-budget splatter. Those who can enjoy some softcore cliches and vampy-sap will be rewarded with artful moments and a beefy morsel of gruesome savagery. Since I'm a student of skinemax, euro sleaze, and obscene gore, the whole exposition spoke to me. Though it's often borderline incoherent, the concoction has been made with well-versed attention and care. There is an experimental eye to it with nods to the greats of sexy vampire cinema. With that being said, it doesn't need to connect all the outward dots for it to function. Besides, love is a confusing mess, and it makes sense that it can only get worse if you toss in some immortal, disenchanted bloodsucking swingers.

1h 31min | 2020

Director: Edin Martinez

Writer: Edin Martinez

LINKS:

Available to Stream from RedemptionTV.net

Review by:

Herschell Gordon Lewis on Wikipedia

The Blood Family Tree - Herschell Gordon Lewis' Direct Splatter Lineage

noreply@blogger.com (VideoReligion) — Tue, 03 Nov 2020 01:52:00 +0000

Blood Feast (1963)

PLOT

While running a successful catering service, zany cook Ramses (Mal Arnold) must sacrifice women to his goddess Ishtar. He has recently been hired for a wealthy family's wedding and decides to serve his sacred "Blood Feast" to make it special. There are only eleven weeks until the big day, so he will need to quickly slaughter enough ingredients to fill the pot of human body parts he keeps in the backroom for religious reasons. His plot to find victims includes tracking down every female who purchased his book "Ancient Weird Religious Rites," which is poor planning if he wants to sell a follow-up book. Also, everyone is down to eat his food, no matter how creepy he is about offering it.

Breakdown

Blood Feast is the granddaddy of gore films by the Godfather of Gore, Herschel Gordon Lewis (some give Fulci the title, but since he started much later, he is more like the uncle of gore). The venture marked a shift in genres for the director, who up to that point made mostly Nudie Cuties.

Those reading this have probably seen the film clips countless times or are aware of the graphic VHS cover art that landed it on the Video Nasties list. If you have particularly good taste, you've grown accustomed to being greeted by excerpts at the beginning of Something Weird Video releases ("Well Frank, It looks like one of those long hard ones" or "Have you ever had an Egyptian feast?”). However, even if you are not acquainted with this chunk of historical gooey cheese, there is a good chance the DNA has crept into something you have seen. The film took cinematic violence to the next level and, with its limited theatrical run, brought full-color over-gore to the U.S. big screen. Partnered with the works of José Mojica Marins, Lewis' campy story of the cult of Ishtar and their cannibalistic ritual gave a foundation to the Splatter genre. Coming out in 1963, Blood Feast is the oldest member of the U.K.'s infamous Video Nasty list and arguably created some of the horror tropes still used today. It pushed boundaries and gleefully wallowed in bloodsoaked bad taste, and the influence can be seen in extreme cinema since.

Legend has it that Lewis was inspired by Hitchcock's Psycho or, more specifically, the fact that all the violence took place off-screen. Seeing this as a deficit, the director sought to remedy the lack of grotesque visuals in horror by showcasing all the nasty bits that others before had only implied. Teaming up with David F. Friedman, the two set out to shock audiences by depicting gruesome acts at the forefront with some healthy camp to make it go down smoothly.

The menu features an amateur lobotomy, torture, and general dismemberment, including an iconic tongue removal. An excess of blood is served up bright red and dripping off slaughterhouse entrails captured by lingering shots so you can take it all in. Frequent Lewis collaborator Mal Arnold problematically chews scenery as occult cannibal chef Fuad Ramses. It is problematic, not because his real last name was Epstein, but because he is a white actor wearing heavy-handed makeup befitting a junior high stage production to make him appear to be an elderly Egyptian. Sporting a cartoon accent, Ramses limps around the screen giving Torgo (Manos: The Hands of Fate) a run for his money and brings the Jerry Lewis to ritualistic homicide. Each scene is accompanied by an odd assortment of organ pounding, timpani drum banging, piano, and bizarre-sounding string instruments provided by HGL himself. Even the police sirens sound like they were provided by these strings.

For all of its camp, bizarre logic, and over the top acting, this gory film is great fun, and it set the stage for future splatter films.

Connections:

It is the first film in the “Blood Trilogy” series, which also includes Two Thousand Maniacs! (1964) and Color Me Blood Red (1965).
Later remade in some capacity as Mardi Gras Massacre (1978), Blood Diner (1987) and Blood Feast (2016).
Followed by Blood Feast 2: All U Can Eat (2002) as its canonical sequel.

Two Thousand Maniacs! (1964)

PLOT

Both William Kerwin (billed as Thomas Wood) and Connie Mason return in a story that sees a few carloads of city folk making their way through the deep south. Through some Wile E. Coyote-style trickery, they end up in the town of Pleasant Valley, a welcoming community of folks that seem to be frozen in time in more ways than one. According to locals, it's the town name celebration, and part of the tradition is inviting some outsiders to join. Unbeknownst to the guests, their fateful role is more involved than advertised. Things get gruesome, there is much splatter set to banjo picking, and the film wraps up with a satisfying Twilight Zone conclusion.

Breakdown

Still partnered with producer David F. Friedman, Herschell Gordon Lewis took an early stab at hicksploitation with Two Thousand Maniacs!--exploitation with an exclamation point! The film had a substantially larger budget than the previous outing, affording it a grander scale and several degrees of polish. It is often stated that this movie jump-started horror’s obsession with killer-rednecks, even being cited as an influence for Hooper's Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Two Thousand Maniacs' story was, itself, inspired by the Scottish musical Brigadoon. This should come with an explanation, but it would be wrong to ruin the twist if, for some reason, you haven't seen HGLs 56-year-old classic.

Even though it is just as cheesy as Blood Feast and filled with violence for entertainment's sake, it's hard not to bring up the baggage involved when the monster in your movie is the immortal ghost of America’s shitty moments in history. Additionally, it took some criticism early on for its role in cementing the stereotype of the isolated southerner, especially as the killer-hillbilly cliche picked up speed in the genre following suit. In the end, this is exploitation cinema, if it is shocking and topical--to this day, it has excelled at its job, or the world sucks, or both.

It is probably the most loved of the trilogy, and for good reason, Two Thousand Maniacs! holds up in both over the top splatter and dark comedy with hints of satire and uneasiness, all these years later.

Connection:

Second movie in the "Gore Trilogy" series following Blood Feast (1963) and before Color Me Blood Red (1965).
Remade as 2001 Maniacs in 2005.

Color Me Blood Red (1965)

PLOT

The plot is a crimson reimagining of Bucket of Blood complete with a couple of beatniks thrown in. Adam Sorg (Gordon Oas-Heim) is a depressed painter looking for something new to add to his color palette. When his girlfriend cuts herself, he discovers blood is the perfect shade of red and begins using it in his art. It goes well, but to make his masterpieces, Sorg must begin harvesting his craft supplies from the local population. There is an additional parade of swimsuits in Herschell's version and some implied premarital sex, which even the artistic murderer partakes in.

Breakdown

Lewis closes out the Blood trilogy and his partnership producer David F. Friedman, with Color Me Blood Red. Despite a plan for a fourth entry(in some capacity), Friedman reportedly felt the theme had run its course. The movie was completed in 1964, but the split caused it to sit unreleased for over a year.

While Two Thousand Maniacs! amped up the gore, this third in the series seems to have taken a step back. Not that it lacks in carnage. The movie boasts some notable examples, including the killer milking an intestine for its hemoglobin. Scarce "canned" grooves accompany the visuals at times, a far cry from HGL’s homemade music. The director’s original odd tunes are missed, but the new ones, when they show up, match the beach vibes. As one of the trilogy's stronger actors, the lead Gordon Oas-Heim(Don Joseph) is less of a cartoon than the previous killers. He is supplied with the same type of writing and direction, but his chops make his killer a little more sinister and grounded (not much, though).

Many of the settings, characters, and the dialog could be at home in a beach film made almost ten years before. There's an aura to some scenes that give the impression that a teenage party sing-along could bust out any moment. Plenty of lines induce laughter, whether it's the comedic self-reflection or an unrealistic reaction to a leg washing up on the shore. Altogether, the experience comes across as a collage of cinema tropes with dismemberment thrown on top. Ultimately, it lacks the stand-out ingredients of the prior films in the series, and in comparison, it comes off as the more generic sibling. That's not to say it isn't fun because it's packed full of the qualities that provide entertainment throughout the trilogy, namely corny acting, quotable silliness, and blood.

The final part of the series is probably the least loved, exemplified by the fact that it's the only one to this day without a remake or sequel. With that being said, the cheesecake and splatter come through for fans of the series with extra chunks of squishy satire. Between bloodletting and the giggle-inducing quotes, the film portrays some of the dynamics between artist, critic, gallery proprietor, and art consumer, highlighting absurdity with black humor. They say art is subjective but is blood?

Connection:

Third movie in the "Gore Trilogy" series following Blood Feast (1963) and Two Thousand Maniacs! (1964)

Mardi Gras Massacre (1978)

PLOT

A killer dismembers his way through New Orleans brothels in a search for the "most wicked" women for his ritual. Here the goddess in need of resurrection is Aztec. Also, nobody eats anything but bar food.

Breakdown:

Mardi Gras Massacre is the sleazy-detective take on the Blood Feast concept. It takes itself more seriously and ends with an epic TV-style police chase.

"Next to its inclusion on the UK's Video Nasties list, the movie's most popular trivia notes the similarity to Herschell Gordon Lewis' Blood Feast. Often called an unofficial remake or spiritual sequel, a bulk of the plot was lifted from the influential 60s benchmark. The borrowed points are undeniable, but Jack Weis strips it into its own brand of cheap exploitation. Personally, living in the future and having seen a bunch of movies about naked ladies getting sacrificed for some reason, I could have lumped the tributes with every other film using this trope since HGL's classic, had I not been told. If anything, this film just got a running start on ripping the film off. The often mentioned link to Blood Feast makes it hard not to compare the two with unfortunate results for the movie in question. If Blood Feast was a daiquiri with fruit sticking out of it, Mardi Gras Massacre is just the vodka in a dirty cup. It's not going to compete with the colorful camp and carnage of its source; luckily (and maybe by accident), it started playing a different game altogether. The biggest thing it all has against it is it's inherent need to measure up to one of the greats when it's just a fucked up exploitation film. Without this relationship, the movie serves well enough as a goofy watchable pre-slasher, if not a forgettable one. The bad guy doesn't even cook. It's got blood, but there is no feast.” - Read the Full Review by RevTerry

Connections:

Director stated the film was an unofficial remake or "spiritual sequel" to Blood Feast.

Blood Diner (1987)

PLOT:

Early on, the film lets you know that it doesn't take itself seriously by including a ludicrous historical sense with some "5 million-year-old Numarian" (Numarians lived in a period about 300 million or so years ago) amulets. When we meet The Fuad Ramses character, changed to Uncle Anwar Namtut (Drew Godderis) , he is referencing pharaoh Tutankhamun as opposed to Pharaoh Ramesses II… I thought he was Numarian? Anyway, Uncle Anwar is on a quest to put together a blood buffet to awaken Goddess Shetar (as opposed to using an Egyptian Blood Feast to raise Ishtar) when he gets distracted by some women (depicted by stock clips from unnamed roughies). The fuzz were closing in, and knowing his card would soon be punched, he passes the goddess-raising torch (and "Numarian" jewelry) onto his nephews. He also tells them to study his book Black Magic of Vanished Cultures, which actually sounds a little more grounded than the Ancient Weird Religious Rites from Blood Feast. Fast forward some years and the boys run a booming health-food diner that serves up a vegetarian fare, seasoned with not-so-vegetarian secret ingredients. The restaurant allows them to prepare for their life's work with some free time left over for wrestling. To successfully raise Shetar, the boys must build a Frankenhooker style vessel for the deity, recite from the aforementioned book over a female Virgin and then sacrifice her. They also need an audience who has eaten from the special buffet and might turn into zombies after partaking. Unlike Bloodfeast, the resurrected goddess makes an appearance here with lightning bolt eyes and body-horror that would fit right into a Japanese Splatterpunk film. As hinted above, somewhere in there is a weird wrestling subplot featuring a heel named Little Jimmie Hitler. If that wasn't odd enough, there is also a band in the last act whose lead singer has hair like Sleazy P. Martini and the rest of the members are dressed like Hitlers-- not just Nazis, but Hitlers--painted-on mustaches and all. It should come as no surprise that this film also belongs to the subgenre of talking brains in a jar. We all have an uncle that's a little off; just be thankful they aren't Anwar.

Breakdown

In the 80s, producer Jimmy Maslon got a hold of Blood Feast’s rights and started towards making a direct sequel, with hopes that the godfather of gore himself would come out of retirement to direct. After writer Michael Sonye (Frozen Scream) had already begun to pen a serious sequel, it became clear that Lewis wouldn't be joining in on the project. Along with that, the distributor Vestron didn't see the sequel angle as a big draw and asked that it be a stand-alone story. So some names were smudged in the script, and the title was changed to Blood Diner. Jackie Kong (The Being and Night Patrol) was installed as director, who, while keeping with the original's boundary-pushing dedication to shock, shifted to a highly comedic tone.

Both the main actors, Rick Burks and Carl Crew, appear in their first speaking roles as Michael and George Tutman. Originally, Maslon wanted George Steele and Michael Berryman for the brothers but lacked the budget to make it happen, so that idea went the way of many concepts in the project's original form. Even knowing this, it's hard to imagine anyone else in these roles as they embody the off-kilter dark cartoonist nature of the movie's final form. The two would play nameless thugs together in The UnderAchievers that same year. Crew later appeared in another cannibal related film in 1993s, The Secret Life: Jeffrey Dahmer. Unfortunately, a few years after the film's release, we lost Rick Burks to a car accident after only three titles in his filmography. The Virgin chosen for the sacrifice, played by Lisa Elaina, is named Connie in the film, most likely a nod to the actress Connie Mason who played the sacrificial candidate in Blood Feast.

Whatever it was supposed to be initially, Blood Diner is an 80s piece of horror-comedy cheese that both tributes and parodies the source.

Connections:

A remake of Blood Feast (1963)
Originally conceived as a sequel to Blood Feast (1963)

Blood Feast 2: All U Can Eat (2002)

PLOT

Fuad Ramses III (J.P. Delahoussaye) inherits the catering business previously run by his grandfather in the original film--along with his cooking inclinations. After the red-eyed statue of Ishtar stashed in the backroom glows on him, Faud the third (I guess the second led a less eventful life) takes to pulling cannibalistic recipes from the book "To Serve Man including Tasty Desserts." Luckily for him, he is about to get hired for a massive wedding gig, and the guest list will provide him plenty of fresh meat for a resurrection ceremony. That is if some half-cocked police work doesn't get in his way. The film takes place in the same surreal colorful but grotesque reality as the original and makes several callbacks and references. More than once, this includes shameless meta-humor. Ramses even acquires his grandpa's traditional exaggerated limp after a rogue stabbing.

Breakdown

Nearly forty years after splitting, Director Herschell Gordon Lewis and producer David F. Friedman teamed up in 2002 to make a sequel to Blood Feast(1963). Released in 2001, the belated follow up was completed in 2000 and even played a few festivals but ultimately spent a year on the shelf without finding a distributor. The late Mike Vraney, who had the original Blood Feast on his Something Weird Video label, joins as an associate producer on this loving latter-day entry. They try to capture the original charm while successfully amping up the gore, humor, and bridal-shower nudity. The result is a movie out of time, equipped with classically offensive carelessness and a corn flavor only attempted in this modern age. It's unlikely to win over any new fans but just might feel like a warm embrace to a select few fun-loving sickos.

The project both adequately works its budget well and manages to have an undeniable retro grindhouse flavor without fake defects or film grain. A combination of site gags and great over the top satirical costuming bring a familiar kind of functional clashing to the heavy bloodshed. Elongated scenes of grotesque butchery utilize time-honored gore techniques that keep their flavor throughout. On most levels, the handy work is a faithful evolution in quality.

The bulk of the music is provided by the band Southern Culture on the Skids, which gives the film a fun rockabilly vibe along with incidental music in the form of synthesizers and drumming styled to evoke the timpani sounds of the original movie. A humorous sample of the words "Satan Satan Satan" is played whenever the character Mrs. Lampley enters the screen. I recognized the clip from "Satan" by Orbital featuring Kirk Hammet from the Spawn (1997) soundtrack. It turns out that Orbital borrowed that from Butthole Surfers’ "Sweet Loaf," as mentioned in the credits. Included is an epic cameo during the wedding by a recognizable director who is a fan of Herschell Gordon Lewis.

Differing cuts of the film exist. For whatever reason, Shriek Show's ninety-two-minute, R rated edition guts nearly seven minutes of gore from a movie that is a follow up to purportedly the first-ever gore film. So please seek out the ninety-nine-minute cut, as the relentless practical FX are well done, and it is a splatter flick after all!

Connections:

Conical Sequel to Blood Feast (1963)

Blood Feast (2016)

PLOT

The setting is moved to a suburb of Paris, France, and Fuad Ramses(Robert Rusler) operates a retro-themed American-style diner instead of a catering business. The restaurant Fuad Ramses runs with his wife is not doing well, and his daughter's tuition costs are also high, so he moonlights as a security guard at a museum that features Egyptian artifacts. Here, he has a run-in with the spirit of Ishtar, who wants him to hold a special feast for her.

Breakdown

Blood Feast 2016 is a remake of the original, directed by Marcel Walz and updated for the Hostel torture-porn crown. This time the killer is wearing a grotesque Anubis mask and taking visual pleasure in torturing victims instead of just using them as ingredients. There is some dark humor along with a throwback ballyhoo introduction to the film.

A familiar face in modern low-budget horror, Sadie Katz brings the beautiful Egyptian deity to life. NOES 3 alum and Weird Science bully Robert Rusler stars as a much more subdued Ramses. A little more focus is set on the character's downward spiral, with a more grounded take on the cannibal cook's lunacy. As his wife, the film features Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2’s Caroline Williams in a functionally dramatic but somewhat underutilized role. Sophia Monk plays the daughter, a new character that takes over the plot. She puts a considerable amount of work into the role that stops short of its own justification. The music and editing set much of the unsettling tone and utilizes timpani, much like the original film, and also boasts the darkest arrangement of In the Hall of the Mountain King, possibly ever. Mr. Lewis himself shows up for a cameo in the film as "Professor Hershel".

With the diner and the esteemed Goddess making appearances as an on-screen character, it ends up holding some parallels with Blood Diner, but with a mood that swings hard into darker notes. Where Diner took from the absurdity of the source, the 2016 attempt gets serious at times and applies a more grim shade to its subject matter. Overall, the film is a loving adaptation with references to the original, which attempts to modernize the premise. The differences are ultimately distinct, and results may vary.

Connections:

Remake of Blood Feast (1963)

2001 Maniacs (2005)

PLOT

The 2001 plot follows the original's basic story, updating the nudity and humor departments. Here we have a group of young people driving through the South, where like those before, they end up detoured due to some trickery. Once they arrive, they are greeted as the guests of honor in the town's Guts and Glory Jubilee. Unfortunately, this role involves being tortured, killed in eccentric contraptions, and eaten.

Breakdown

Tim Sullivan's 2001 Maniacs functions both as a remake and a quasi-sequel to the original 1964 film. David F. Friedman returns to produce the film, joined by Eli Roth, legendary "Shemp" Scott Spiegel, and others. Like Blood Feast 2, it feels like a natural extension of the original films' rubber reality. Along with the source material, the meta-humor also serves to tribute several horror flicks that came after HGL's mark, through throwbacks and appearances by familiar faces in the genre.

Along the way, there are a fair amount of cameos, including Kane Hodder, as "Jason" and Eli Roth as his character from Cabin Fever (2002). Heading the main cast is Robert England, who transforms the sadistic mayor into a stand out character all his own. At his side is the legendary Lin Shaye as well as Giuseppe Andrews. Everyone seems to be enjoying the madness, which transfers into one of the film's strengths.

The plot brings along the tongue in cheek offensiveness, done per the dark "non-pc" humor from the early 2000s. Many of the film's kills are reminiscent of the original version, with additional themed offerings in the playlist. The movie heavily utilizes practical special effects that keep their entertainment value to bring the splatter alive.

The entire project plays directly to fans of the original and distasteful horror altogether. Gore, nudity, and fucked up jokes come in abundance, making the runtime feel like a jog. It's hard to imagine it sitting well with a majority of viewers, but the satire is aligned with the off-kilter attitude of the source material.

A minstrel duo made up of Johnny Legend and Scott Spiegel, musically narrates the brutal mayhem driving in the demented carnival show feel. Altogether it's a splatter filled tribute to Gordon for the fans of the Blood trilogy.

Connections:

Remake (and spiritual sequel) of Two Thousand Maniacs! (1964)

2001 Maniacs: Field of Screams (2010)

PLOT:

Field of Screams takes the show on the road with the gang of murderous cannibal-confederates leaving the South to outsource ingredients. This brings them to a new buffet of victims, including the crew of a reality TV series a’ la Road Rules crashing into the Simple Life. Also, some new ghosts have joined the ranks, and the whole movie literally takes place in a field.

Breakdown

After getting it mostly right with 2001 Maniacs in 2005, Tim Sullivan and his co-writer Chris Kobin made a sequel in 2010. Unfortunately, it is more than a step down from the earlier outing, and not just because it takes place in tents. The budget was obviously much lower, which would account for the Walmart Halloween costumes and the half-assed sets. However, it fails in several areas not related to the meager backing.

Where 2001 seemed to nail the dark natured, offensive comedy, this one seems to miss the point entirely. Instead of being a movie about killer bigoted ghosts, often, the film itself presents as racist. You could write a full book on the distinction there, but between illogically added racial stereotypes and odd choices, it comes off like someone telling third-hand South Park jokes in middle school. It's hard to believe it is the same people behind the directing and writing. Strings of punchlines fall flat either from conception or the editing that sucks the air out of everything. The killing seems extremely scarce, although to its credit, what does exist brings some practical effects reminiscent of the previous. A lot is missing, but extra nudity is added to try and compensate.

Outside the abundance of skin, the cast puts a soulful and energetic attempt into their given lines. Bill Moseley seems to make anything watch-worthy, and there are reminders of how Lin Shaye excels in comedy. For some reason, half the confederates are default cultural cliches like an edgy GI Joe series. These stereotypes are partnered with a handful of southern "Maniacs" that give off a more cannibal-surfer gang vibe than anything else.

It's hard not to find a labor of love in there, beaten to death by its resources. However, economic issues aside, the whole film trips over itself with a thud where the previous landed with zany accuracy. What is left to enjoy is a few on-screen legends giving it their all and a bunch of titties.

Connections:

Canonical sequel to 2001 Maniacs (2005)

LINKS:

Something Weird Video

All Films on IMDB

On Amazon

See Full Sized Blood Family Tree Map

Written by

RevTerry and GrindhouseCellar

Cuts From The Cellar: Lady in White (1988) by GrindhouseCellar

noreply@blogger.com (VideoReligion) — Fri, 30 Oct 2020 20:42:00 +0000

This movie holds a special place in my heart as I was forbidden to watch it. I wasn't the only one barred from watching this film either. I'm fairly certain it was policy at our two local area Mom and Pop video stores not to rent the tape to anyone who had yet to graduate middle school (junior high). This odd stipulation was because Lady in White was partially filmed in my local middle school in upstate New York. I guess that parents didn't want their kids to be afraid to go to school.

Now, what kid doesn't want to see a movie where ghosts or a child killer inhabits their school? It was the perfect setting as the building is surrounded on three sides by cemeteries! Nothing like the view from the cafeteria window of countless aging headstones as you ponder your mortality on pizza day.

Above: Yearbook photo in black and white.

The film perfectly captures Autumn and the Halloween essence of my youth as it was filmed around where I grew up. I'm not referring to the second half of the film that resembles a soundstage Dagobah that opens to a house perched on a Hawaiian cliff, but the Canandaigua lake vistas and nearby Lyons, NY, that stood in for the small town of Willowpoint Falls.

Director and Rochester native Frank LaLoggia built this film on the local ghost story of the Lady in White that roams around a Rochester park looking for her daughter. In his ghost story, LaLoggia sought to capture family life and a slice of small-town Americana that was celebrating Halloween while dealing with the real-life monsters that opposed the civil rights movement or preyed on children.

I'm not going to give a full review of the movie, but here are a few asides that may be interesting.

Unfortunately, the iconic half circle window did not exist on the school. I even once drove by to double-check, and after thinking about its placement, it definitely was never a feature of the building.

However, some of the classrooms looked exactly as depicted, so it's always nostalgic for me to see them again.

The child that played the droopy eared bunny was a local extra and lived down the street from my Grandparents.

This scene with the teacher in her car was not in the theatrical release, but I'm glad it was added back in. I have a not so fond memory of the windows in the background. A classmate and I were bored on a beautiful day where the teacher had the windows open, and for whatever reason, we thought a good way to pass the time would be by spitting out the window. Kids are weird. Since we were on the ground level, we were spotted by another teacher who had her class outside right where the bullies asked the main character about his hat the film. She walked up to have us interrupt the class and get our teacher's attention. When our teacher arrived at the window, they then proceeded to rat me and my expectorating compatriot out for spitting in front of the entire class. Thanks.

Top billing was given to Lukas Haas, who shone in the role of young Frankie Scarlatti. Haas later appeared as The Pin in Rian Johnson's Brick (2005), A fantastic neo Noir that you need to check out if you haven't. One of Brick's standout images ( there are many) used as the film's poster seems to be a direct reference to Lady in White.

Lady in White

Brick

Some of the soundstage scenes and special effect shots in Lady in White may not have aged the best in the last 30 odd years, but the passionate filmmaking and technical shots sure have. One that really stands out is the ambitious tracking shot during a dream sequence that involves multiple sets. Another is a scene that looks like a Maxfield Parrish painting, such as Daybreak.

This movie is a yearly tradition for me that is both nostalgic and spooky, so grab some popcorn and sit back with this underrated Halloween treat that haunts my youth's hallowed halls.

1h 53min | 1988

Director: Frank LaLoggia

Writer: Frank LaLoggia

By Grindhousecellar

It's Still Halloween!: Five More Films For October

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Mon, 26 Oct 2020 03:32:00 +0000

It's the best time of the year! Only this year has been extra terrible, so that's not saying much, and October didn't stand a chance. However, all is not lost for Samhain. Even if Halloween parties and trick-or-treating are a terrible idea, the holiday is more substantial than that. Halloween is about being extra spooky, talking about monsters, and eating a fuck-ton of snacks.

Most importantly, you still have cinema (hopefully) to set the mood, and that's enough to celebrate no matter how many people you are allowed to have with you. Due to its overlapping subject matter, it's a popular setting for horror movies, so there is plenty to watch (some of which I have already covered over the last few years). Here are five more October films that I should have probably mentioned previously.

WNUF Halloween Special (2013)

WNUF Halloween Special is a faux VHS recording brought to you by Midnight Crew Studios, the people behind Call Girl of Cthulhu (2014). It seeks to capture the warm holiday embrace of local background noise TV and infuse it with comedy and horror. The style is genuine enough that you could forget what you're watching just long enough for its plot to take shape. Think 90s SNL and found-footage horror had a really nostalgic baby. I have watched the movie regularly for a few years, and each watch, I find a new detail or background gag I missed.

(IMDB - WIKI - On Amazon)

Ghostwatch (1992)

A possible precursor to the film above, the BBC's TV special Ghostwatch aired to home audiences "live" in 1992. The ruse of journalism is played utterly straight as fake reporters make contact with a very active spirit. Reportedly, folks who missed the disclaimer pulled a War of the Worlds, thinking the haunting was real. It has plenty of cool history behind it and makes solid use of its format. The showcase originally aired on Halloween, so it's a good pick for some seasonal poltergeists and retro primetime investigation television vibes.

(IMDB - WIKI - On Amazon)

Hack-O-Lantern (1988)

Hack-O-Lantern is the kind of 80s horror that makes this holiday magical. It's got glam-metal, a murderous cult, and a slasher costume that crosses a luchador with a video game's mid-boss. One part cliche slasher rip off, one 70s supernatural terror, and two parts inexplicable madness. Hy Pyke's performance alone makes it worth a watch for the holiday. Plus, I think Halloween needs more occult stuff; put the cloaks, and sacrifice back into October.

(IMDB - On Amazon)

House of 1000 Corpses (2003)

I didn't warm to it until years after it's release, but House of a 1000 Corpses is a loveable tribute to brutal horror. Perfect for (the right) parties, it's stuffed with over the top characters, practical effects, and nu-metal editing. It feels like a movie made for and by genre fans. Along with nods to things like TCM and the wider exploitation genre, the film celebrates the best holiday with a fucked up adventure that could only happen on Halloween.

(IMDB - WIKI - On Amazon)

Deadly Friend (1986)

I'm a sucker for robots. Saying a movie has a robot is like saying it has boobs or ninjas and instantly wins me over. Despite my love, robot movies are kind of hit or miss with the general public. Deadly Friend isn't most people's favorite Wes Craven (or even Kristy Swanson) movie, and all of the tech is straight out of children's TV shows. However, the mix of family video vibes, high concept sci-fi, and cheesy 80s horror is engaging like a grim, gory Spielberg flick. It takes place around Halloween, so it counts. Plus, Momma (the amazing Anne Ramsey) from Throw Momma from the Train gets her head exploded by a basketball.

(IMDB - WIKI - On Amazon)

BONUS: Watch The Crow (on VHS)

The Crow isn't a horror movie--it is an October classic, however, with most of the action taking place on Devil's Night. It's a personal favorite for me, which had a visible cult following for some time after its release. So much could be said about The Crow. It's a faithful (pre-Sam Raimi Spider-Man) comic book movie with an abundance of style and a tragic history. The set design and atmosphere perfectly match the goth-indie pen work of the source comic. I believe everyone should see it, with no need for a remake as the original holds up just fine. Nevertheless, there is a right way to watch it. I know it sounds like some hipster shit, but the movie is at its best on VHS. The dark, 90s angst loses a bit of its gusto without the deep blacks found only on tape. On the Blu-ray and DVD, the dark corners are uncovered, and the shadows become blue or sepia. A lot of the overall value gets lost when auto-upgraded for disc mediums. It's more than I can describe, just trust me. Better yet, try them back to back at home yourself. Maybe someday the film will get a proper up-conversion with attention to detail, but until then, I will be hoarding all the tapes from the thrift store to ensure the yearly viewing. This rule is especially crucial when introducing The Crow to someone for the first time. It's the responsible thing to do. You owe it to yourself, new viewers, and the spirit of The Crow.

(IMDB - WIKI - On Amazon)

Remember to stay spooky and safe. There are caverns of appropriate media out there to keep the holiday spirit going this year. Watch a movie, and you can keep Halloween alive in your heart. If that doesn't work, try getting drunk under a sheet while making ghost sounds occasionally in the dark corners around the place.

Links:

5 Movies RevTerry Has to Watch on/around Halloween!

9(ish) More Films RevTerry Will Most Likely Watch on/around Halloween.

Long Live Halloween: 7 recent(ish) holiday horror films

Halloween on VideoReligion

by:

Feeders (1996) Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Tue, 06 Oct 2020 02:17:00 +0000

The year was 1997, I was more than three years deep into an X-Files obsession, and the Independence Day VHS had a lenticular, exploding Whitehouse front cover. It seemed like aliens were everywhere--on-screen media, magazines, inside 50 cent sticker machines, and I was in heaven. Little RevTerry, like others around my age, was entirely dedicated to the search for extraterrestrial life or at least fascinated with the idea of flying saucers and small humanoids with big eyes. I consumed every book on UFOs at the library, read all the magazines at the store (without paying), and begged my parents (unsuccessfully) for every product that sported the cliche alien head. Not by chance, this would lead to my first run-in with the Polonia brothers. One night at the video rental store, I was forced to make a choice for my part of the weekend's movies. I could only pick one tape, and in the final moments, it came down to either Polonia's Feeders or Roswell (1994) starring Kyle McLachlan. The film's cover stuck in my mind even when, in the end, I picked what promised to be a dramatized retelling of actual events and left with Roswell. The next week, the tape was gone, and It would be many years till I finally found out what I had truly held in my tiny undeveloped hands.

A ship arrives at Earth, depositing it's conquering off-world contents to wreak havoc on the human inhabitants below. The little unearthly monsters waste no time hunting down unexpecting victims in the forested area of their touchdown. At the same time, Derek (Jon McBride) and Bennett (John Polonia) are roaming the same woods on a road trip to the "coast" while making a few stops to hit on women and take pictures. Unfortunately for the boys, the journey gets detoured when a bloodied man runs in front of their car. Being responsible youngsters, they take the stranger to the closest town. Things go downhill from there as parties get ruined, dead people give birth, and the galactic newcomers come for the duo.

Feeders is a bloodthirsty alien invasion with the body of a low-end slasher made in the backyard with love and duct tape. With high ambition, wide-scale implications, and more energy than resources, the film runs headfirst into a world-shaking plot, armed with nothing more than grade-school crafts. It moves fast enough, and that keeps it from being boring, but the real entertainment value comes from the dialog, which elicits giggles consistently. Between surprise attacks and a claustrophobic conclusion, if the antagonists weren't green toys from space, it could easily be a tame, no-budget summer camp horror film. Maybe the visitors have big plans for Earth, it's hard to know. The assault is less than targeted, and they just send a few snarling foot soldiers that eventually become exclusively focused on two random dudes. These invaders come from far away to ravage some example victims; before showing off their cooler powers in a final battle with insignificant slackers looking for tail. Storywise, the mini first contact situation is straightforward, whether or not the alien strategy makes sense. Aliens are killing people--the end. However, this movie pays out to those who pay attention, not because there is any message or deeper meaning but because each line and detail is an almost calculated misfire. Soaked in pure entertainment, the movie's delivery and content is an immaculate mix of gung-ho and inept. I could elaborate on the plot's intricacies, but that won't explain its charm-- also, there aren't any intricacies.

After what seems like the basic slideshow for a 90s ufologists documentary narrated by a high schooler, the film gives a computer-generated view of a spacecraft flying through space. As far as digital effects, it's more than dated, and even in the 90s, it's pretty far from Hollywood. To be fair, I remember being stoked about CG cartoons like ReBoot at the time this came out, so this backyard version is relatively admirable. The cheap, computer game graphic flying saucer makes other appearances looking increasingly unrealistic against the grainy landscapes on which it is superimposed. The movie's shot on video picture quality is inconsistent, shifting defective traits back and forth. Sometimes, the result is that beautiful neon ghosting you only get from a camcorder, used tape, and degradation. While most of the film makes do with whatever illumination is available at the time, there are some experimental choices during the last quarter in this regard. In the first chunk of action, the picture is washed out by the natural sunlight in the forest where it's filmed, mimicking a family's documentation of their fishing trip. This is contrasted later by the night-time indoor scenes where shadows should get first billing, and the colors engulf the subjects. The framing and camera work seem to tribute 50s monster movies with sloppy edges. Homemade gore makes an occasional appearance, usually little more than a red mess on the actors.The most ambitious example is a decapitation scene that is nothing if not pure comedy. Noticeably, the film lacks any sleaze outside of some bad flirting techniques. The lack of nudity somehow gives it a strange wholesome vibe, although I'm sure they would have added some if it was possible at the time. Everything in the feature is proudly amateur, half-assed, and rushed to cheesy perfection. However, it's all done with a sense of enthusiasm and love that speaks to me on levels I can't explain to the average earthling.

The gum wrapper jewel on the film's crown is the rubbery aliens themselves. Being operated from off-screen, the handcrafted creatures (with motionless mouths) are a sinister take on the era’s little green men cliche. From certain angles, they have an awesomely gross look to them, like a petrified loogie. The detail would be impressive as fuck if they weren't completely static. In action, the whole effect is somewhere between an outdoor minstrel puppet show and some kids recording action figures in tall grass. They come with some Critters-like grumbling and have a purple version of predator vision, which I thought was a nice touch. In all honesty, I have some deep love for these frugal monster effects, and once they popped on screen, the film had won over my heart. Just like everything else on display, they aren't what you can call good by most standards, but with little to no money, someone made these bulbous headed gremlins and brought them to life. I can't exactly give you a good reason why, but I'm glad they did.

The low budget, EBE assault was directed by Jon McBride, John Polonia, and Mark Polonia in 1996 from a script by Mark. Some tactical timing around Roland Emmerich's ID4 saw the film being picked up by the behemoth Blockbuster, and it became the chain's most rented title for the year. Two years later, the brothers released a sequel that brought the invasion to the holiday season, with a new set of characters to eat. By the time the first one was released, the Polonias had already released around nine films. Several included co-director McBride as well in various roles. The legendary figures would continue to make films at a rapid pace before John's unfortunate death in 2008. Since then, Mark has continued the prolific legacy, with a range of small, independent projects, including some with Amityville in the title, sharks, and even a few Camp Bloods. The duo's body of work is as entertaining as it is notorious. There is an unstoppable soul to each project and a unique eye to creative problem-solving. To this day, Mark Polonia's output holds on to the spark that makes each thrifty undertaking an outsider masterpiece in its own right. It's hard to pin that quality down, but it exists between an inspirational act of loving dedication to a craft, no matter the odds and a loud middle finger to the expected standards that surround the industry.

Like a finger painting on a fridge, Feeders is grade Z filmmaking at its most pure. It exploits a trend, bites off more than it can chew, and feels like it was made in one day. Above all, it's a lot of fun. If you want a riveting story, good craftsmanship, and realism, look somewhere else. In fact, if you want what is typically called a film, this is not for you. This is some goofy shit. But if like me, you have a taste for the silly trash of the world, this is a genuine, unfiltered brand in a 44-ounce plastic cup. Nobody does bad movies like the Polonias. If it sounds like your thing, grab some intoxicated friends and get ready to take on fake-looking shot on video aliens. I like to keep a copy close. That way, if by chance space-beings show up, we can all have a good laugh… before they dissect me or whatever.

1h 9min | 1996

Directors: Jon McBride, John Polonia and Mark Polonia

Writer: Mark Polonia

Links:

Review by:

RevTerry

Night Kaleidoscope (2017) Quick Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Mon, 07 Sep 2020 20:39:00 +0000

I have seen the inside of a few squats, had one or two drug-induced visions and been on my fair share of shady night-time adventures. While all these experiences had their specific charms, none of them had quite the visual artistry of Grant McPhee's micro-budget horror-noir outing Night Kaleidoscope. The shining moments in my personal history also didn't include literal vampires, at least as far as I remember--not that my recollection can be trusted.

Fion (Patrick O'Brien), a disgruntled medium, works under the table with local law enforcement by utilizing his gift to track murderous blood addicts. With the help of the smallest joints ever, Fion can see a victim’s final moments when in the proximity of the body. While hunting a particularly vicious pair of vamps, he meets Isobel (Mariel McAllan), who asks for his help. The two begin a steamy relationship built upon their trauma, distaste for the nosferatu, and Fion's stash of magic weed. Unfortunately, this means the supernatural P.I. now has something to lose.

The contemporary vampire tale is a stylized journey through a fictional underworld lined with crime, addiction and the occult. It blends drug lifestyle, detective tropes, and the supernatural with the haze of a skillfully crafted music video. The story doesn't always explain itself but instead offers up just a taste of what seems to be a detailed version of the world, cut with depressing magic and street-level villains enhanced by dark forces. More subtle than cryptic, I could see it serving as the arthouse pilot for a gritty supernatural series that puts remixed horror elements into down to earth crime drama, uncovering more with each monster of the week. For as little as we get from each character, they feel largely filled out, and most of the major players come with unique history just below the surface. While keeping a surreal quality, the mood is mostly that of a grumpy detective story, with heavy stock in emotion over exposition.

Like any good psychic detective, our hero rocks a frown and a damaged stare (often aimed into space, sometimes with candles). He also sports a trusty (super clean) wool-lined coat that he wears everywhere and enjoys enhancing his abilities with a special blend of intoxicating herbs purveyed by his supplier/inside man Harry (Robert Williamson). Along with being a pretty niche dealer, Harry also hooks the psychic sleuth up with weaponized mystic materials to further aid his one-person war, an exemplary detail that should give you an idea about how the film balances its genre-bending. The vampires themselves are relatively grounded when it comes to extracting the human juice, namely taking chunks out of their victim's neck versus the usual well placed puncture. I can only assume they have some hypnotizing effect on their drugged-out cattle, as the unlucky meals stand mostly motionless while being sliced or bitten. In the power duo, we become acquainted with Lewis (Jason Harvey), who embodies the European ecstasy dealer in an action movie, and the junkie-queen Carrie (Kitty Colquhoun). Where Lewis could have walked out of either a horror or crime drama with little change, the letter opener-wielding Carrie embodies a fusion of the styles. Both hold stable for the runtime, but as the movie progressed, I became more interested in the latter's off-kilter motivations and vicious antagonisms.

Without question, the film's greatest strength is its visual style, to the point that it falls into the realm of art cinema. Each of the movie's shots seems to have a purpose and gives the viewer more story than the plot. From its experimental angles to the classic use of light, the camera and effects employ a dreamlike atmosphere. Several digital effects and different formats are used to provide grimy psychedelics. They are prevalent, but the fake glitches never overstay their welcome and only assist the practical work. One of my favorite bits sees the victim's image projected on Lewis as she cuts into her, creating a fancy picture in picture for the murder. The soundtrack by Alec Cheer stands out early in, contributing retro synth vibes while carving out a persona of its own and not playing completely into the overdone 80s beats. This film is one of three micro-budget projects that the director, Grant McPhee, participated in between 2013 and 2014. Each of the three movies took under six days to shoot with a budget of under $6,000. Night Kaleidoscope itself was completed with less than £4,000 in an astounding five days. I don't want to take away from the merits of the finished product on its own, but the quality is surprising, knowing the timeline and cash behind it. It's evident on the screen that the production was small, however, the overall craftsmanship is far beyond its resources.

Night Kaleidoscope is a crossfaded journey to Scotland's vampire underground stocked with intoxicated counterculture, hard-boiled cornball crime drama, and dreamlike, dark fantasy. If a 90s Danny Boyle had an acid bender in an abandoned house watching only Martin (1977), The Addiction (1995), and The Hunger (1983), he might make something similar afterward. It is fantastic to look at, while only giving hints about a larger universe of monsters, lingerie, and drugs. There is a lack of explanation that might turn some off, but sometimes you just have to ride out the trip, enjoy the pretty colors, and hope no one bites you.

1h 23min | 2017

Director: Grant McPhee

Writers: Megan Gretchen and Chris Purnell

Night Kaleidoscope is available for VOD streaming from Redemption TV

Links:

WIKI

Review by:

RevTerry

Mermaids of Tiburon (1962) Review by GrindhouseCellar

noreply@blogger.com (VideoReligion) — Thu, 06 Aug 2020 00:20:00 +0000

What is the draw to explore inhospitable places like the top of a mountain where the air can be too thin to breathe, in space where there is no air, or even underwater? I’m currently obsessed with underwater movies. You get strapped with a cool watch, knife, and diving gear to travel the unknown depths that can potentially host creatures, both beautiful and frightening. Today’s dive is with beautiful creatures in the Mermaids of Tiburon.

Stuntman actor John Lamb learned a thing or two as the underwater camera-person on the TV show Sea Hunt (1959), the film and subsequent TV show Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1961 and 1964-68 respectively), and also the film Trapped Beneath the Sea (1974). He took this knowledge, then wrote, produced, and directed a mermaid adventure that was much like an expanded episode of Sea Hunt. The main diver is even approached for the adventurous assignment while working at Marineland of the Pacific, much like the first episode of Sea Hunt. This film and Sea Hunt feature heavy voiceover narration describing the diver’s thoughts and actions as diving equipment prohibits dialogue. The diver is played by stuntman George Rowe (George Robotham), one-time director of Dark Echoes 1977, which also features some underwater sequences (I reviewed this on VideoReligion). He is pitted against the deliciously evil character-actor Timothy Carey (The Killing). They are both after the beautiful and rare Flame Pearls located deep in the waters near the mysterious island of Tiburon, and one of them is willing to kill anyone or thing to obtain them. Neither knows that these pearls are guarded by sharks and mermaids--complete with tail fins and flower tops instead of seashells. The queen of the mermaids is played by the stunning model Diane Webber (The Witchmaker 1969).

Even with the great cast, adventurous plot, and fantastic underwater photography, the film didn’t sell well, so John Lamb reshot nearly all the underwater and island grotto footage of the mermaids. They did not sport realistic tail fins this time, but John was hoping the audience wouldn’t care since they were all topless! He gave the film a salacious new title-- Aqua Sex.

Now that was something that might sell. Unfortunately, Diane Webber’s scenes were not reshot, and she appears only briefly in this version, which is a shame as she was well known as a nudist and Playboy Playmate. Lamb must have decided that only sex sells because all of his subsequent directorial efforts were adult films, including Zodiac Killer (Zodiac Rapist 1977), which featured a well-shot underwater scene with an early appearance by John Holmes. I wonder if that was also filmed in Aquascope. It’s never explained in this new cut, Aqua Sex, why some mermaids have tails, and others have human legs. The film, unfortunately, does have detracting period sexism and racism. The strength lies in the underwater sequences that are very well-filmed and lit. So often, underwater footage is murky and dark, but not here. Plus, the edge of a pool can only be glimpsed a couple of times as the bulk of it was filmed in the actual ocean. You never know what wondrous creatures you will encounter exploring the sea for iridescent pearls. Speargun shooting, dynamite chucking, topless swimming, this isn’t Steinbeck's The Pearl! If you ever wanted to see a color Nudie Cutie episode of Sea Hunt, then seek this out.

1h 16min | 1962

Director: John Lamb

Writer: John Lamb

Links:

Review by GrindhouseCellar
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Mardi Gras Massacre (1978) Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Wed, 29 Jul 2020 02:13:00 +0000

I'm aware that Mardi Gras is the party part of Fat Tuesday, basically the last day to eat whatever you want before Ash Wednesday and the fasting that comes with Lent. Likewise, I know it holds much in common with ancient Pagan celebrations for spring, and I assume that it is for the same reason Christmas, Easter, etc. have older non-ChristIan counterparts. It's celebrated all over the world, but famously New Orleans spends fourteen days getting drunk and crazy as a part of their tradition. I have never observed Mardi Gras myself, but it's a well known, often referenced event, steeped in history and culture. There are countless movies involving the gathering in some way, and I have formed a pretty solid idea about how it looks according to the media. However, whenever I hear the words, Mardi Gras I think of two things. One is the mail-order commercial for Girls Gone Mardi Gras that played a shit-ton in the late 90/early 00s. I know now that those movies are almost unwatchable, but the internet was still growing at the time, and I was young. The second is the poster for Mardi Gras Massacre, which looks like an adventure-novel cover with some light bondage and proto-shredder holding a straight razor. Laying around the bottom of the illustration is some confetti and one of those masks on a stick. Even outside of that tacked-on detail, it successfully captures a retro New Orleans feel. There is an essence to the entire style, colors, and font that nails it for me. Actually (now that I think about it), the whole thing might just remind me of a Mardi Gras themed casino. Either way, that's the closest I have ever been. Plus, it has more topical flavor than the actual movie itself.

A well-dressed man (William Metzo) walks into a scummy New Orleans club and asks the bartender about paying for a date. When he is pointed to the house escort service, he tells the woman that he needs someone "special". In particular, he says he wants the most "evil" woman available. As if this makes some kind of measurable sense, the waitress instantly knows the perfect gal, and points him to Shirley (Laura Misch Owens), with an assurance that she will fit the bill. With his requirements met, the man, John, takes Shirley back to his place, where he straps her to a table and eventually sacrifices her to an Aztec god. The next day, after her remains have been found on the train tracks and taken to the morgue, we meet detective Frank Abraham (Curt Dawson), who is on the case. Unfortunately, John is just getting started, and more "evil" lives will need to be cut short to appease his deity. It will be up to crusty-ass Frank to stop this reign of terror, but first, he will have to deal with his misogyny and alcoholism. Also, there is a ten minute (plus) dance routine turned brawl at a disco in there somewhere.

Mardi Gras Massacre (1978) is a dark-universe version of Cheers, set after a recession, with additional grimy layers of disgruntled, corny 70s sleaze, stiff schlocky cop drama, and slimy gut removal. Outside of laughing at it, there is no identifiable comedy involved in the script. In the place of jokes, the film wiggles its way through grumpy characters who speak like lines are being passed to them on a napkin. It's always very goofy, but the brand of cheese is dry. The plot is easygoing and uncomplicated, to the point that it mostly consists of grumbling filler. This is especially true for the worthless conflict involving the main character, his creepy relationship skills, and the accompanying romantic montage. He also has his typical movie-cop troubles, which here boils down to the fact that he is a piece of shit vice detective who used to be less shitty…I guess. Mostly, the film follows as the mysteriously underwhelming bad-guy does his thing, asking chicks if they are evil and sometimes carving them up. John needs "evil" women for his "Aztec" sacrifice, which makes me wonder why he decided to go for prostitutes. Wouldn't there be better places to find wicked folks? If it were me, I would probably just chill in front of a grocery store and wait for the people that don’t put carts back. We learn a bulk of the killer's motivations from his overlong exposition that he gives his victims. For a dude who uses cultural operation to murder naked ladies, he is a bizarrely mundane stiff. The hooker-killing zealot spends a good amount of the film just being an old rich guy in a bar that looks down on people just like an old rich guy. His religious outfit is neat though, it reminds me of a beer box throne I once made. By the lack of humor, simmering speed, and pessimistic character bios, it seems to take itself seriously. Time is taken for odd characters, bloody religious murder, and nudity, but those elements are never pushed to any worthwhile extreme. The tone is kept at a Nick at Nite style rumble, completely reliant on demented silly shit happening while doing its best to portray a gritty 70s underworld at the same time. It feels a lot like a roughie, only instead of weird sex, there is ritualistic disembowelment. If it sounds like I'm mostly talking shit, I am. However, this can all be thoroughly enjoyed with the right mindset. There isn't nearly as much gore as one would hope, but everything surrounding murder is entertainingly inept, goofy, and laced with straight-faced camp. There is something endearing in how the world has been put together as, all at once, it is utilitarian and over elaborated. The negative emotions on display are so haphazardly concocted it's hard not to find it humorous, and since the whole thing doesn't seem to have its tongue in cheek, it's a lot of fun to mock. Plus, it has a terrific, sleazy trash meets 70s TV detective in his third season vibe.

The overall look visually simulates the experience of drinking off a concussion in a smoke-filled room. At its best, the cinematography is a low-energy Doris Wishman peer, without her fun shots of random objects and flare. Each location in the film has less than a handful of angles to work with for editing, and a haze highlights everything on the screen like an 80s sitcom dream sequence. Possibly, my favorite aspects of this movie are the color schemes and lighting. Against the almost sepia pallet, reds stand out like they are trying to tell you something, while everything else is heavily contrasted or a dim brown. A lot of the run time is spent on the drinking establishment, which seems to exist in a black void, due to its heavy, dark vignette. It comes off as an unusually harsh, low-rent play, set in the most depressing gentleman's club ever. I imagine if Captain Picard asked the Holodeck for groovy, old-timey hookers, they would step into this movie. Sacrificing time takes the film to a brightly lit but still unfocused, bare room with a perfectly matched curtain, wallpaper, and lady-killing table combo. The theater effect carries over, with the killer coming from backstage every time you see the room. When he comes out the first time and starts announcing shit to the strapped up naked lady, I get bad strip-club magic-act flashbacks. There is an excellent, gross feeling to the intestine removal scenes, that can only come from lovingly crafted practical effects. It's not hyper-realistic gore, just gooey B-movie fun, however, it's more sparse than I expected. Each of these scenes is set up precisely the same with just a single extended cut of semi-realistic guts being pulled from the woman's chest that suddenly looks waxy and hollow (and…sweaty?). A good part of the dialog has to battle it out with the score to be heard. It isn't so much of an issue as the conversations are repetitive, and the accompanying music has a few masterful baselines I got into, no matter how ill-fitting. The tunes ring out somewhere between 70s porn and a blaxploitation film. It's some good shit, even if the jams never made sense in the scenes.

Mardi Gras Massacre was written and directed by Jack Weis as a part of his strange, small (and partially lost) filmography. It follows the Vietnam vet vs. voodoo drug trip Crypt of Dark Secrets, released in 1976. Before that, he had three projects released in some capacity, two of which are considered lost and one I have never seen, starring the legendary Tim Kincaid. Kincaid wouldn't direct his own sleaze for a few years (it also wasn't porn. I think anyway). Massacre stands as the filmmaker's final full feature. According to IMDB, he directed a special for Melissa Etheridge in 2008 which, as far as I can tell, came as a bonus in a live album.

Most of the involved actors have filmographies that are made up of one or two roles, with the other being a Weis project as well. Some exceptions to that include a cameo by Donn Davison, whose B-movie cred runs thick having been a part of several cult features in some capacity, including doing effects in Beyond the Door (1974). Shirley is portrayed by Playboy Playmate of the Month in 1975 Laura Misch Owens who also held an uncredited role in the director's previous project. This is Owen's first named character and second to last all together before moving on to become an author. Curt Dawson, who plays the wooden Detective Sergeant Frank Abraham, previously made an uncredited appearance in Weis' Crypt of Dark Secrets. Around the same time, he appeared as John Hancock in mini-series The Adams Chronicles, and in 1975, showed up in Joel M. Reed's Blood Bath. He also has had recurring roles in Guiding Light and Another World from 79 to 81, but I can't tell you anything about those. I do remember Guiding Light advertised when I was a kid with a commercial so violently plain that it brought my still growing brain pain.

Next to its inclusion on the UK's Video Nasties list, the movie's most popular trivia notes the similarity to Herschell Gordon Lewis' Blood Feast. Often called an unofficial remake or spiritual sequel, a bulk of the plot was lifted from the influential 60s benchmark. The borrowed points are undeniable, but Jack Weis strips it into its own brand of cheap exploitation. Personally, living in the future and having seen a bunch of movies about naked ladies getting sacrificed for some reason, I could have lumped the tributes with every other film that used this trope since HGL's classic, had I not been told. If anything, this film just got a running start on ripping the film off. The often mentioned link to Blood Feast makes it hard not to compare the two with unfortunate results for the movie in question. If Blood Feast was a daiquiri with fruit and shit sticking out of it, Mardi Gras Massacre is just the vodka in a dirty cup. It's not going to compete with the colorful camp and carnage of its source; luckily (and maybe by accident), it started playing a different game altogether. The biggest thing it all has against it is it's inherent need to measure up to one of the greats when it's just a fucked up exploitation film. Without this relationship, the movie serves well enough as a goofy watchable pre-slasher if not a forgettable one. The bad guy doesn't even cook. Its got blood, but there is no feast.

Mardi Gras Massacre is a mumble of ritualistic slaughter with dramatically awkward relationships and silly deaths. It's not a super exciting movie, but it is gross, grimy, and strange. Unfortunately, it is forever cursed to be compared to Blood Feast, because on it's own it would be solid sleazy trash. That's worth something, and there are nights where that's exactly what I want.

The only thing that really bugged me was the slim connection to Mardi gras. The noteworthy festival gets little more than a few mentions and it has minimal affect on the plot. Since it came out the same year as Halloween, I guess it has dibs on names. I just think a fitting slasher would have taken the Mardi Gras Massacre title sooner or later if this awkward specimen had not. Although I have never experienced the event myself, so I guess it’s possible that this movie is more authentic than I know. If so, I'll probably skip it as I can get that kind of fun at any divorcee bar.

1h 37min | 1978

Director: Jack Weis

Writer: Jack Weis

Links:

On Amazon

Part of the The "Blood" Family Tree

Review by:

RevTerry

Hard Rock Zombies (1985) Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Tue, 23 Jun 2020 16:10:00 +0000

Lately, I have been weighing the pros and cons of being a zombie. Obviously, I am a fan of the concept's depictions in entertainment but if my very own body got up after death and started doing shit the deceased shouldn't do, would that be a good thing or bad? Personally, this depends on how much of "me" is still inside my noggin while undead. I don't really like having the urges and feelings I have now, so I don't want to add new ones, like a thirst for human flesh. In the movies, zombies seem to be drawn to gathering, and I'm not a fan of crowds or joining up when other humans get that herd-thing going on. Would I be a prisoner inside a broken body, lining up with other drooling cadavers like idiots at a Best Buy on Black Friday? Furthermore, as a living, breathing human, I can already feel myself getting dumber, and the thought of being awake for an expedited process gives me chills. I don't want to have to wake up from what promises to be the best sleep ever, just to experience my brain rotting away while I walk around with my mouth hanging open. If my intellect is not along for the ride, though, I could care less; my body can do whatever the fuck it wants. My flesh capsule can go wild while turning into man-cheese. It has my permission. Just leave my consciousness out of the adventure. That is, unless I had a reason to be undead. I could be okay with disturbing death for a goal left unattained, a lost Jess Franco film uncovered, some kind of eternal love--or, of course, to rock out and kill Nazis.

After playing a bar show, the rock band Holy Moses is rousted by their manager to get some pictures with groupies for publicity's sake, before heading to the nowhere California town of Grand Guignol. Most of the band members have little issue with this job requirement and greet the females joyfully as they rush into the dressing room, except for Jesse (E.J. Curse), the lead singer. Instead, the moody rocker strikes a conversation with the odd one out Cassie (Jennifer Coe), who grimly warns him not to travel to the next town as they are "not wanted." Jesse ignores the cryptic message and continues to mack on this new love interest. The following day, the group is heading to the next gig in their van, where Jesse is trying out a song he inexplicably found in a mysterious book that supposedly raises the dead. Surprisingly, his modern acoustic rendition seems to bring a swatted fly back to life multiple times. No one seems to be amazed by this and quickly forgets after a blond hitchhiker (Lisa Toothman) is spotted on the road. They pull over to pick her up, which leads to her inviting them all to stay at her house. On arrival, they are greeted by their new friend's roommates--a cast of strange characters including a mutant, a bald dude with an ax, and an older man who keeps making fucked up noises (among others). To make matters worse, it is apparent that the townspeople do not, in fact, want the concert to happen, especially the local law enforcement. In no time, things only get more peculiar and hostile, to the point that the whole band is slaughtered. Luckily, Jesse taught his new girlfriend Cassie the magical resurrection song.

Hard Rock Zombies (1985) is a hair-metal remix of a Scooby-Doo full-length feature, cut with exploitation film cliches, doused in cheap vodka, and set in an impoverished version of the town from Footloose (1984). It is near aimless, as if there was a general idea of what was going to happen in the plot, but the actual events were made up on the spot. There is no basis for any of the characters' actions and no reason for anything that takes place. None of that stops the wild tale from being a fun watch. In fact, if you happen to like bad zombie flicks, fictional rock bands, and Nazis getting stabbed in the neck (like I do), it's a fucking blast. For me, It's like someone stuck some of my favorite toys together with Crazy Glue to make a stupid looking Voltron, which still has each part's plastic missile launcher or pull back-action chop. Before we meet the band, we are given a small mean spirited taste of horror schlock and skinny dipping with a mood that never really returns. Right afterward, we are introduced to a music group that sounds like a less talented Rod Stewart, looks like a broke Lynyrd Skynyrd, and tacks on as many butt-rock cliches as possible, including a loose policy on checking groupie I.D.s. As it starts to flush out the group members, the plot could be on its way to several different brands of low-rent hijinks until the very classic horror warning is issued about the tour's next stop. It is indicated that Jesse (who you can tell is the leader because of his handlebar mustache) is more profound than his party-prone mates because every rock band needs their moody philosopher-king. Unlike the other guys, he doesn't care much for the non-prophetic groupies and becomes instantly infatuated with (the probably underage) Cassie. He also keeps calling her "little girl," which is pretty creepy. Anyway, soon, the genre tropes are popping up left and right. There is a nod to Paganini Horror (1989) or at least one of the other tales that have used the resurrection trope. However, in this case, it brings the protagonists alive as zombies. Some basic points from Spider Baby or, the Maddest Story Ever Told (1967) (1967) and its angry blood relative The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) can be seen in its DNA, especially as things start to get spooky for the boys. On top of that, we have a rainbow of cinema favorites, including disfigured little people, werewolves, and music-hating hicks. Plus, eventually, it's all revealed to be part of a convoluted nazi scheme. Hitler is there and hasn't aged much. He has been hiding out in California since WWII, and his right-hand lady is a genre-appropriate bombshell who has some fitting dance moves for all the 80s music shit going on. I don't like spoilers, but the Hitler-reveal happens maybe halfway in, so I'm sure it doesn't count.

It is quite humorous, and while it throws out a confusing tone every so often, the mood is never severe. Bizarrely, the film also thinks it's a musical. There are breaks for entire songs that could be cut out and used as stand-alone music videos. The characters don't sing along like a proper musical unless they are on stage performing. Still, the movie makes complete stops to go through the songs, in full, with dance numbers. Despite the band being entirely fictional, it never stops feeling like a vanity project built around a group, like Head (1968), A Hard Day's Night (1964), or (probably more accurately) Spice World (1997). In the same vein, some of the random musical montages give off a distinct American International Pictures Beach Party vibe--only, instead of being on a beach, it is in a small backward town, and the teenagers are dudes with feathered hair.

The movie is stuffed full of slurred madness, visual body odor, and illogical choices--without committing to anything. Despite being a cinematic bag of moldy mixed nuts, all the failures roll together into beautiful b-movie greatness. You never know where it's going to go or how long it's going to take to get there, but every stop, no matter how familiar, is absurd entertainment.

If I had one word to describe this unkempt concoction's technical qualities, it would be dingy, but I would say it with love. It's always dark, not because it's nighttime or stylized that way; instead, the picture is dim, like you have spent the last few days on a bender, and your vision hasn't fully recovered yet. So the lighting is shit, but the camera work has several great moments, especially when the music starts. The angles and framing are enriched with zany corn, whether performing horror parody or going full cartoon. It looks like a cross between the Monkeys T.V. show and a Devo video with the pacing to match. This energy keeps the completely random, nonsensical plot from feeling disjointed and instead creates free-form flow. About twenty minutes in, anything could happen, and it would feel natural in this film's surreal, goofy atmosphere. The sets and costumes are in line with eccentric archetypes portrayed, akin to a drugged-up stage play. However, like the story itself, the effects are all over the place. Most of the creatures in the film are slapped together, minimal, or just look terrible. Grandma isn't the worst werewolf I have ever seen, but she is mostly saved by the gag involved with her introduction. The zombies are the shittiest part of the whole thing. There is barely any visual indication they are undead at all, outside of scant makeup. If it weren't for the fact they climb out of graves and walk like Universal's Frankenstein monster, I would have just assumed the band was going into a flashy-goth phase. Luckily, they show up late (especially for a movie with zombies in the name) and dance around in costumes jacked from Yellow Submarine. On the other hand, the short mutant member of Hitler's California family is impressive, as if his mask was made by a different crew altogether. Likewise, he is involved with the film's best gore, due to his zombified version of a magician pulling himself out of a hat.

The soundtrack is something else, and quite possibly the most produced aspect in the production. It's a big part of the enjoyment for me, although I wouldn't call any of it "heavy metal" or "hard rock" even by 80s standards. The band sounds closer to a perverted male version of Josie and the Pussycats, but I can dig it.

Hard Rock Zombies is at the far end subject-wise of director Krishna Shah's eclectic career. In the 60s, he worked with Alan Paton (author of Cry, the Beloved Country) on the award-winning Broadway play Sponono (1964) as well several other works both on and off-Broadway, often about South African social issues. During the late seventies, Shah dabbled in television writing for junk-food classics shows like The Flying Nun and The Six Million Dollar Man. In that same era, he adapted The River Niger (1976) for the cinema, which featured an all-star cast including James Earl Jones and wrote/directed one of India's most expensive films, Shalimar (1978). Closing out the 70s, he put together a "comprehensive" documentary detailing the history of Indian cinema, titled Cinema Cinema (1979). After a short break, Shah directed American Drive-In (1985), a schlocky sex-comedy, for Vestron Video in the middle of the 80s. This led him to Hard Rock Zombies, aka Heavy Metal Zombies, or just Rock Zombies, as it was initially intended to be the film within a film playing in American Drive-In. For whatever reason, the decision was made to fill out the twenty-minute skit, and it was released as its own thing by Cannon. Before his death in 2013, the filmmaker went back to working India based projects while providing a helping hand to things like Sleepaway Camp IV: The Survivor (1992) and Omega Cop (1990).

E.J. Curse plays Jessie, who I think is the main character despite dying relatively early on, and becoming a zombie. Besides this role, Curse has about five credits to his name, mainly for small television parts as nameless hunks. Among the cast is the legendary Phil Fondacaro. Even if you don't know who that is, I can guarantee you have seen him before, possibly as an "Ewok". Fondacaro has played memorable characters in everything from big-budget films to television cameos. He worked a lot with Full Moon over the years, and despite having acted in almost seventy parts (including American Drive-In), I can't help but think of him always as Sir Nigel Penneyweight from Ghoulies II (1987). Donald G. Jackson's homie Sam Mann plays the drummer (well, at least I assume he is Jackson's friend as he is in three of the Rollerblade movies). He doesn't do much here, but I have to mention him because his short filmography is made up of nothing but bad-movie gold. By far, my favorite part of the film is Elsa, played by Lisa Toothman. Elsa's the better dancer in the movie, has the best kills, and embodies the acid-washed jeans-style 80s video girl. She's the kind of hot that kept me watching VH1 throwbacks when I was a kid. Her evil character is matched perfectly with the over the top tone of the film. I couldn't instantly point her out, but Toothman has been in The Girl I Want (1990) with Linea Quigley, Witchcraft III: The Kiss of Death (1991), and worked alongside Mann in Roller Blade Warriors: Taken by Force (1989). The man who plays Hitler, Jack Bliesener, has some pretty funny lines, and his presentation is energetic. He also plays "The President of the United States" in a low budget cop-action movie called Crime Killer (1985) the same year. I haven't seen it, but judging by the synopsis and bad reviews, it looks like an unloved piece of trash I might enjoy.

Hard Rock Zombies is a tale of music, comedy, and horror, as if told by a coked-out roadie with a short attention span. The plot is a cheesy, incoherent jumble of tropes without a point. It's not a good movie, most would call it bad, but it's fucking fun. There is no reason you should take the film seriously as it is pretty clear it never took itself that way. Just sit back and take a ride through the reanimated rock craziness and enjoy. Why not? Someday you will be dead, and there is no guarantee anyone will bring you back to life to kill Nazis to a ridiculous soundtrack.

1h 38min | 1985

Director: Krishna Shah

Writers: David Allen Ball, Krishna Shah

Links:
IMDB
WIKI
On Amazon ($$)

Review by:

RevTerry

Reanimator Academy (1992) Review

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Tue, 02 Jun 2020 03:38:00 +0000

I didn't go to college. Well, that's not entirely true--I was enrolled in junior college for a few years, and while I made lifelong friends, I didn't leave with any worthwhile academic status enhancement. Though to be fair, I worked in retail and smoked a lot of tree at the time, so my brain was usually a firm pile of mush. Mostly, I remember half-assed Poli Sci debates and Plato-centric philosophy, both of which you will now find on the internet in bulk whether you want to or not. When I think about it, what I really missed out on was the "college experience". By that, I mean things like dorms, those creepy clubs with Greek letters, a diploma, and life-changing drunken parties. What’s possibly more disappointing is that if I stuck around, I could have brought the dead back to life, according to Reanimator Academy.

While his frat-mates get drunk in the room next door, medical student Edgar Allan Lovecraft can be found with some chemicals and spare human body parts. He is working on a Reanimation serum, a fluid that awakens deceased flesh. One party, after talking to himself and mixing colorful liquids together, he finds success. With his formula he is able to bring a severed head to a wise-cracking state and not long after, revives a recently departed classmate. Soon after these triumphs, he is approached by a pair of mobsters who have just murdered an employee and would like to enlist his medical services. This leads to a series of (borrowed) misadventures and more frugal chemistry.

Between the name and its introduction of a lab coat/glasses character with a pension for green slime, it could be guessed that on some level, Reanimator Academy is meant to be a play on the 1985 Re-Animator film. This is true. Some of the offset basics are taken straight from the story. However, if you are rightfully inclined to believe that a parody of Stuart Gordon's horror-comedy is wholly unnecessary, you are in luck, because it loses the point pretty early on. The film instead accomplishes being more enjoyable than it has any right to be (or I could convince anyone of). After introducing Edgar and his Reanimation Serum, it rolls off into a homemade presentation of various loving cinematic tropes played for laughs. Directionless but straightforward enough not to care, the plot is not a hefty serving, and what is there is chiefly taken from other works. There are surface-level links to H.P. Lovecraft, as well as other science fiction/horror influences. Surrounding the genre jabs are some shoe-string college cliches which mimic the average frat boy 80s sex comedy, sans any on-screen sleaze. There are also LoonyToons style mobsters, whose duologue is made up of strangely wholesome gags. Despite technically being pimps in the 90s, they dress and talk like 50s gangsters. It's like someone's dad (not mine, but someone's father) wrote their jokes, but they have good timing, and the classic routine got a few chuckles out of me. Another of the more functional yucksters in the film is the severed head Ed, Edgar's first successful patient. The one-eyed zombie-dome delivers his lines in the style of a stand-up comic from a time when Jerry Seinfeld was still funny, only he can't stand up (get it?..he would appreciate it). After it gets moving along, the plot takes chunks out of Frankenhooker's playbook, only with a little extra sexism. The most significant new element is the "shrew" syndrome, an effect on female patients that makes them grumpy when brought back from the dead. I had to look up shrew to make sure I remembered the definition of the dated term when referring to women and not the cute mole-thing. Honestly, I don't know what that's all about. It’s like something a drunk old man would come up with while wearing a "Big Johnson" t-shirt. Anyway, the condition is solved with another serum--an anti-shrew formula, which plays a big role in the plot, but not in a way that justifies how stupid that is. I'm just going to chalk that up to some kind of college humor I don't get. Plus, the movie is too goofy to take anything seriously. Besides that, the bulk of the film is a silly, enthusiastic, oversized skit written with a juvenile but endearing fan spirit.

Like a birthday video tape mixed with a student film, the movie’s technical aspects are cheap and amateur with a few surprises. Its picture quality is complete shit. Maybe that is just my copy, but I'm guessing it was less than stellar when it first popped out of the camcorder. The camera work, on the other hand, is well done. There are good angles, including some allusions to the more classic source material. This stylization also comes into play for comedic effect, as it effectively squeezes every ounce out of its corny gags with some cartoon-esque composition. Since it's a willfully dumb movie and looks like it was recorded on the same camera as my debut in the Nutcracker's elementary rendition, I wasn't expecting much from the practical effects. To that end, some things in the film matched my preconceived notions; at one point, a mannequin is clearly playing stunt double for a dead body. However, there are some arts and crafts that surpass the humble presentation. The most noteworthy is Ed the Head. It's not realistic, but instead a fun piece of sculpted rubber that would pass on a weekly TV show from the same era. Ed's dubbing is pretty on-point as well, and since his jokes land more than anyone else’s--really, the one-eyed puppet is the best part of the whole film. For its sets, the movie oscillates between plain suburban houses and public streets. You can see random unknowing citizens in the background during shots, which only makes things better. From what I can tell, the synth score is entirely original, as It sounds like someone made it with equipment at a public high school. It matches up with what's on screen and is compatible with the mood of the film, even though leveling is off at times.

I don't have too much info on the real-life people behind Reanimator Academy. The director Judith Priest is using an obvious pseudonym. This name, and a good amount of the actors, only grace the credits of this one film as far as I can tell. What I do know is that it's produced in some fashion by David DeCoteau. This involvement is similar to other shot-on-tape goofiness like Bimbos B.C. (1990) and Ghoul School (1990), which probably helped with distribution. The project seems to be connected directly to another low-budget affair produced by DeCoteau, Redneck County Fever (1992), as several players show up in both. This includes JP Black, who provides cinematography for the productions. The co-writer and actor playing "Bruno," Benton Jennings has had a shit-load of television roles since, but this movie marks his only writing credit. Connie Speer, who plays "Hot Lips," appeared in 1985s The Nail Gun Massacre and produced the Bret McCormick flick Armed for Action (1992). Here she brings a notable amount of personality to the screen, essentially playing two roles. Mystro Greg Synodis brings us all the sweet background music. He also happened to direct both Ice Ice Baby and Play That Funky Music for Vanilla Ice, so that's cool.

Reanimator Academy is shot-on-video parody with more imagination and gusto than resources or sense. It's one for the less critical crowd. I can't see a regular slapstick comedy fan making it very far into the flick, and since it's lacking in explicit content, it might also leave the low-budget horror crowd unfulfilled. That being said, it's more watchable than I could have guessed if someone described it to me. It's put together well, the cinematography works, and the dialogue even lands a gag or two. I had fun with it--but what do I know? I'm just another college dropout with too much to say on the internet.

1h 20min | 1992

Director: Judith Priest

Writers: Benton Jennings, Judith Priest

LINKS:

Review by:

RevTerry

Meaty Bits: CFK Trilogy, When Death Calls, The Lighthouse, John Henry, The Tattooist

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Thu, 21 May 2020 03:45:00 +0000

It has been quite the shit show of weeks—everyone is mentally tired, anxious, and a little on edge. Almost every bit of new media hurts to consume, and while it's probably the most damaging to our mental health, the "social" kind has taken a more prominent role in our lives. Seemingly, people have a lot of movie time on their hands but understandably have little motivation to put anything on. For whatever reason, Disney decided it was an excellent time to censor the classic butt-scene from Splash (1984). Shit's fucked. Despite living in a cultural bubble, I have been more of a bummer than usual, and my already slowed posting schedule has suffered a bit. Plus, even though I don't subscribe to Disney+ and probably never will, that CGI hair on Daryl Hannah's backside really affected me.
Sincerely, I hope you are staying safe, healthy and have found a way to enjoy the good the world still has. Anyway, I will get back to posting regular articles by myself and others soon, including all the rambunctious positivity for which VideoReligion is known far and wide. In the meantime, here are some quick thoughts about movies I have seen for the first time in the last few weeks.

Short Reviews

Below are some quick thoughts on shit that I have checked out for the first time within the last few days. This includes some relatively more mainstream media, recent random finds, and my usual weird fare. Unlike my other reviews, I have only watched these things once. As these are mostly knee -jerk reactions, all are subject to me completely changing my mind on a second viewing, absolute misunderstanding on my part, or a full "review" at a future date.

Goreface Killer aka Attack of the Cockface Killer (2002)

This is the first in a trilogy of over the top, sex-obsessed, low budget horror films featuring the perverse exploits of a killer with a dildo strapped to his face. It begins with watching the villainous "Cockface Killer" offing a bunch of hicks mid-coitus, while simultaneously following a group of skate punks as they discuss horror movies and hang out in various places. When the slayings start to thin the numbers in their social group, Skeet the Skate and a few friends take the offensive against the phallic fiend… well kinda. The frugal affair makes its way through low-brow jokes, amuteur sleaze, and homemade gore with a great soundtrack of local metal, including the Cockface theme song. It kept me entertained with childish offensiveness even though half of the humor is composed of (what I assume is) inside "scene" jokes.
(IMDB - On Amazon)

Goregasm (2007)

This sequel ups the production quality a bit, with some obvious dollars thrown at the gore and nudity. Cockface also has been working out and no longer has trouble walking. Several gags run chaotically through the plot, with a gang of sadistic females and a porn-store full of characters introduced. The progression makes as much sense as it needs to, although I miss the soundtrack from the first. It often feels like an upgraded version of the original story with less hometown spirit, but it's still a decent low-budget comedic slasher, if not a little longer than it needs to be. My biggest beef is the name. There is already a movie called Gorgasm (1990), and it's a classic of sleazy, cheap splatter.
(IMDB - On Amazon)

Grimewave: Cockface III (2013)

Once again, the film series seems to have added more dollars to the affair. It's more or less a colorful live-action cartoon of dick and fart jokes. Watching them back to back, the three films in the ridiculous collection do a great job of parodying the escalating life cycle of a slasher series. This one even involves a possible sex cult as an origin for the seemingly supernatural Cockface. It is the most coherent of the three, although that's not saying much--basically, some of the gags just have better timing. There is much more offensive humor, maybe a little less on-screen nudity, and a mix of the recurring practical gore with some new (horrible) CGI blood. If you like stupid, gross fun (and the first two) it's not going to disappoint. Anyone else should stay away from the whole series. I'm part of the first group and was not unhappy with the chaotic last chapter in the Cockface trilogy.
(IMDB - On Amazon)

The Lighthouse (2019)

As far as new age hipster cinema fuel goes, nothing leads the internet cool-kids to declare themselves cinephiles like A24. All shit-talking aside, I have been mostly happy with the studio’s mark on the mainstream. The Lighthouse is no different, and while I can see why the appeal wasn't as broad as say Midsommer, I enjoyed the black and white display of madness. It is somewhat unique for big-budget cinema, with a lot to chew on and strong acting. Puzzling as it is purposeful, the film is a bleak, seemingly personal fable with some hefty what the fuck moments. I liked it, although I don't want to hear any theories on what it means… I'm serious, just don't.
(IMDB - WIKI - On Amazon)

When Death Calls (2012)

This one is a digital camcorder anthology of supernatural yarns and sometimes pointless, titty-filled murders, which pulls together like an episode of Hot Line. There is just a light hint of Giallo in there, but mainly it's your average DIY slashers and some amateur Twilight Zone antics. Each plot goes down smoothly with nudity, adequate gore, and a mix of performance quality. It's all tied by a radio host who really drives home the softcore porn feels. My favorites of the tales are the two that extend past the regular ol’ slashings with a paranormal twist. Tina Krause also makes an appearance, and I'm always happy to see her, no matter how short her screen time. Altogether, the film is solid for what it is--an entertaining micro-budget collection of classic horror tropes and boobs.
(IMDB - On Amazon)

John Henry (2020)

I had no idea what I was getting into here, I saw it on the shelf at Walmart and thought it looked like something to put on in the background one day, incorrectly assuming it was a modern retelling of John Henry, done in near Asylum-style b-movie fashion. Later, I saw it listed on Netflix and ended up sitting my ass down to watch the whole thing. It's more drama than action and more than a little silly, but I was totally engaged. Terry Crews is fantastic and not just because we share a name. It's not a massive jump from humorous outings, but the retro comic book-esque tale is built around his hulking badass with a heart of gold style. Living legend Ken Foree plays his dad and steals every scene he rolls through. Ludacris is there too, as the film's main baddie, which takes the movie into a pulpy place I can appreciate. I miss films like this in the mainstream. It is low key, with none of the extreme CGI laden, blurry garbage that seems to plague every subset of the action genre.
(IMDB - WIKI - On Amazon)

Short Film

The Tattooist (2018)

Most of The Tattooist's story must be inferred, as it is a rapid piece, fashioned as a faux trailer. However, what is included is an oddly appealing dose of violence, neon lights, and gruesome implications. Michael Wong's short strobes the bloodletting of body modification and butchery together in a striking aesthetic that hangs on after its 80 min runtime is over. If this serving of pretty gore is any indication as to future works, I can't wait for more from the filmmaker.

Fun fact: I have no tattoos other than a self-done remnant from my crust punk days. I always figured I would get some work done eventually, although this flick didn't expedite the process.

You can check out the full project below or on Michael Wong's Vimeo.

By:

Interzone (1989) Review

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Fri, 01 May 2020 05:02:00 +0000

I have named a few pets, but I have never christened a child. It seems like a lot of pressure. Whatever you dub your spawn, they are going to be stuck with for the rest of their lives, or at least until they are old enough to apply for a change. I have always been happy with my name; it's served me well. Despite the fact it may have come from a late 80s one-hit wonder, I have always felt like I lucked out because so many others I met as a kid in school weren't happy with theirs. From observation, it looks like a bad start in life if, during your earliest social interactions, you have to carry an identifying last initial because your parents were a part of some Ryan (Jacob, Michael, etc...) zeitgeist, even if they thought they were clever with the spelling. Maybe worse was being dubbed "Jr" because your family passed "Mike" down through its males like alcoholism. No offense if this describes you. I'm just basing this off what I gleaned from the little Ryan C. and Junior’s complaints I observed in grade school. For all I know, each has grown to accept their lot in life. Maybe time has corrected this injustice, and circumstances allowed them to drop the C or Jr. Plus, it could be worse--you could be Swan, Mantis, or a post-apocalyptic monk named Panasonic.

Sometime after the fall of society, a monk named Panasonic (Kiro Wehara) telepathically converses with his dying master General Electric. While he slips away, Mr. Electric tells the loyal follower that it is up to him to protect the last fertile chunk of unirradiated land known as the Interzone, and with it, the coveted treasure it hides. Panasonic then leaves his side to embark on his crusade. This quest doesn't start well, as right away, he is bitten by a snake. Luckily, drifter Swan (Bruce Abbott) comes along to help, immediately after winning a betting game involving drinking poison with ruffians. The two then run into a muscle-bound dominatrix Mantis and her gang of dirt-pirates who happen to be after the bounty the Interzone contains. Mantis (Teagan Clive) and her right-hand man Balzakan (John Armstead) are fairly hostile, so the pair ends up having to escape via high-speed chase, but not before adding a third to their party--the beautiful Tera (Beatrice Ring). Action, romance, and an angry hole-dwelling mutant follow as the newly formed crew must battle it out with Mantis and her goons to protect the fabled, untouched bounty of the Interzone.

Interzone is a somewhat zany adventure through a shoestring wasteland that brings along Deathstalker goofball fantasy vibes with the tongue in cheek Mad Max rips. The plot is minimal, reminding me of what would be left of Treasure Island, The Land Before Time (1988), and a Dungeons & Dragons game if they were forced to duke it out in a post-apocalyptic society. Remnants and artifacts from the luxuries of the past make random appearances, primarily as gags. Panasonic and his dying master General Electric are the only references with any underlying point to them. The setting is explained by a general nuclear event that has left the earth mostly unfertile, but not much else is given as far as world-building goes. What's left of humanity has formed a cliche makeshift society built upon manic city-states, roving BDSM gangs, and at least one new dangerous drinking game. The movie only gives you enough facts to have fun with the action. It has a lot of what you would expect from the genre but in smaller, less detailed doses. While you could pick up some insight from its take on man's downfall if you tried, a critique on society is far from the point in this case.

The pacing is a little back and forth, but goes by relatively fast and without overselling a thin story. To its benefit, Interzone doesn't take itself very seriously, setting some achievable goals at enjoyable characters and escapism. The writing puts plenty of stock in humor, from the lead’s one-liners and quips to the details of its antagonists, which keeps it from a close call with monotony. The plot comes off as a cornball sword and sorcery story only with guns instead of swords and very little sorcery. With a quick change of decoration, its treasure hunt could be just as fitting for a pseudo-medieval, low budget epic. It rounds parody at times, but the classic archetypes, pre-chewed flavor, and self-aware delivery come together as an entertaining, easy to watch chunk of post-apocalyptic cheese.

The low budget is apparent from the get-go and the project doesn't have any of the artful garnish of other Italian takes on the subject matter. This may be, in part, why it doesn't get the same love as some other Mad Max clones. It is extremely basic when it comes to sets, wardrobe, and weaponry. The style choices for the new world's citizens are comparatively muted, landing somewhere between the least creative Road Warrior characters, gothic American gladiators, and homeless people. Similarly, the vehicles aren't as elaborate as some of its dystopic cinema counterparts, which I dug in this instance. I'm sure it was an economic thing, but when the shit hits the fan, I could see my neighbors making trash-carts before anyone put together super-powered doom-mobiles. The camera work is functional, and probably one of the more technical standouts. Angles work around the more robust features, and there are one or two creative choices spliced in. To accommodate a lot of the writing, it goes full cartoon, often with some intentionally goofball moments and occasionally pulling tricks straight out of an 80s comedy. The editing is another story, as it often undermines any quality in the camerawork. Some of the shots get the wind knocked out of them by hanging on too long, and the cuts often feel broken. It doesn't hurt a viewing too much because if you make it past the first fifteen minutes, you're probably okay with some b-movie style craftsmanship in this area. As for the audio dubbing, it gets pretty bad at points, even for an Italian produced Mad Max rip-off, at least on my copy. I think the music accommodates the humor more than anything, as sometimes it sounds like it was rejected from a late 80s John Candy movie soundtrack. That starts to work as the movie moves along or at least when I stopped expecting the synth to get dramatic.

The Italian project was filmed in Rome and directed by American filmmaker Deran Sarafian. In a few years, he would give us Terminal Velocity (1994), with Charlie Sheen, which I think bombed initially because of its release proximity to Drop Zone (1994). Both films are fun, however, Terminal Velocity is, in my opinion, the superior watch and makes an excellent pairing with Point Break (1991). Sarafian co-wrote the screenplay with Claudio Fragasso, the director of Troll 2 (1990), Beyond Darkness (1990), and a slew of other classic exploitation films. Another one of the legendary masters of sleaze, cheese, and mayhem Joe D'Amato served as producer. Outside of being a blatant budgeted play for some popular trends, the film doesn't have much of his DNA immediately present with its severe lack of nudity and his ordinary collaborators (although Laura Gemser makes a quick uncredited cameo). Despite the tame nature of the content, the movie still saw about ten minutes of cuts for release in the UK market, bringing it down to eighty-eight minutes from the ninety-seven the rest of us saw.

A great deal of the film's value comes from the cast, most significantly Bruce Abbott. He manages to pull off the lovable scoundrel character entirely and looks like he is having fun with the role, while not caring too much. He puts forth a "Swan" less as a brooding Mad Max and more along the lines of Bruce Campbell, which sets a manageable tone for the entire film. The character is relatively removed from Abbott's iconic two-film run as Dr. Dan Cain in the Re-Animator series, and although I would choose those films any day over this one, it makes me wish he had more starring junk-food action-flick roles under his belt. Tera is played by Beatrice Ring, who appears in several Italian exploitation films, including Zombie 3 (1988, also written by Claudio Fragasso). She doesn't get a whole lot to do here, but like everyone else, makes the best of it. Kiro Wehara, in one of only three career performances, is Panasonic, the other two being Le Miniere Del Kilimangiaro (1986) and The Blade Master (1982), aka Ator 2 (directed by Joe D'Amato). I dug his portrayal here, as it had a certain warmth to it. Plus, a lot of his dialogue is dubbed over as telepathic conversation, and to his credit, he often makes the perfect goofy face. Bodybuilder Teagan Clive is the leader of the bad guys. I know her as The Alienator, but outside of b-movies, she has appeared in several magazines as a fitness model and writer. Clive does more here than Alienator (1990), which is to say she does more than just her best Terminator impression. She kind of has a horny-Amazonian-in-a-wrestling-outfit thing going on, which I can get behind.

Interzone is a slim, comedic, and damn near charming trot through the recycled waste of post-apocalyptic cinema. It's probably not going to bump off any of your favorites in its niche. However, between its lack of giving a shit and likable leads, it's too much fun for me to disregard. There is an easy, seemingly quick watch to be had if a viewer can stand some well-used tropes and frugal ingredients. Without spoiling anything, I can say the name Panasonic did end up making some sense in this case, although I'm still a little confused about the Swan and Mantis.

1h 37min | 1989

Director: Deran Sarafian

Writers: Claudio Fragasso, Deran Sarafian

Links:

On Amazon (affiliate link)

Review by:

RevTerry

Guinea Pig: Mermaid in the Manhole (1988) Review by RevTerry

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Wed, 08 Apr 2020 04:36:00 +0000

Human-animal hybrids walk a fine line between fantasy and horror. Primarily, it depends on how they are presented. Spiderman is a hero-type arthropod-human combo because he got some helpful powers out of the deal, but Brundlefly gets perpetually uglier and pukes in front of Geena Davis. For me, it comes down to the realism or the number of details I'm given. In a fantasy adventure, most of the time, my thoughts are far from biology--but bring up science, and my mind wanders. If the creature's depiction starts getting too grounded, I'm going to want to know some unflattering facts--like, how it uses the bathroom or what sexy time might be like (that could just be me though). Historically, mermaids have been on the fantasy side of things. They regularly show up in the kind of fiction where the difference between a companion and a monster is defined simply by which half of the character is human. So, even though they often lead sailors to their doom, they get a description that involves words like fair, beautiful, and even sexy. Aside from Barnum and Christopher Columbus, the mythos surrounding mermaids has been a blend of playful tricksters and supermodels. In reality, you would have to be more than stunning for me not to get caught up on the... bottom half is a fish thing. However, that romanticized view has recently changed a bit in cinema. As it does, horror has painted the fish maidens in a different light. We have had alternative renditions presented with some kind of morbid twist. There are some excellent examples, but for me, nothing has brought the mermaid to the fucked up levels that Guinea Pig: Mermaid in the Manhole has.

A man (Shigeru Saiki) stomps around in a sewer somewhere, looking for inspiration for his paintings and thinking about how life changes. To his surprise, he comes upon a beautiful mermaid (Mari Somei), who is inexplicably laying in the muck, having seen better days herself. After a short chat, he suddenly remembers that he had encountered the magical creature before, as a child. This propels him to scoop up the fish-person and take her home. He gets her to his apartment and into the bathtub. Unfortunately, she then begins to grow some nasty boils that squirt blood at an alarming rate. He tries to stop the bleeding with some kitchen towels, but despite his care, it only gets worse. Quickly, it sets in that his hopeful dabbing is entirely futile, and colorful puss starts pouring out with the blood. So, logically, the artist begins painting with the excretions--as one does.

Mermaid in the Manhole is a bizarre, slippery plunge into grotesque poetic confusion. Gross and silly swirl together into an entertaining, chunky, short-story brought to full length by moments of unexplained reflection. The storytelling wavers between a BBC drama and an episode of the TV anthology Monsters while it weaves out an engaging puzzle of fucked up moments. Between the cheap sets and the unmanaged pacing, it can be off-putting, even before the sores become unsightly, which might lose a few viewers. By the time it presents sufficient nastiness, the content has waded through something resembling a soap opera dream-sequence with subtitles. At face value, it feels a little incomplete, and it doesn't hide its lack of explanation. No reasoning is offered for the existence of this fantastic creature, her diseased condition, or even how the painter got her into his apartment from the sewer without anyone seeing. There is some implication that the sewer was once a majestic body of water, and that the man had seen the mermaid there when he was young. However, it makes little sense outside of playing into the overarching cryptic theme. Our mermaid friend's ghastly lesions provide exactly seven different colors of puss and must be lanced to offer her some relief. We only know this because she tells the main character, who reluctantly cuts them open and ultimately uses them in his art. This is played out almost as a natural progression, and there is no more exposition given when creepy crawlers are birthed from the cysts. The elements of the film just exist all the while, in grim harmony (no matter how strange or fucked) like a half-forgotten memory.

There is a mix of vibes in the runtime--along with profound or disgusting, is a tinge of corn and comedy. This regularly takes the form of noisy neighbors, who are presented as a sort of comedic island in a sea of tears and bodily fluids, though I may be missing some of their purposes in the translation to subtitles. A lot of the sadness is universal, and the emotions are interesting to watch quixotically unfold. Still, the nameless artist isn't really a relatable character, as his plight is almost too personal (if that makes sense). His story plunges into grimy artist-angst and comes out as some delusional anger, covered in tallow waste. The gory finish speaks to a more significant underlying meaning. To be truthful, I have no concrete idea of what the film is trying to say. I formed some theories as to what that is, but I don't want to spoil anything. I do know it wanted to show me some unforgettable gag-worthy visuals (and that was awesome), but along with that, this unsavory mess is, in fact, a distinct piece of abstract art. Whatever the point, I'm down, and I don't have to fully get it to be engulfed in the beautiful, disgusting strangeness.

Manhôru no Naka no Ningyo AKA Mermaid in the Manhole is the 4th or maybe 6th film in the globally notorious Guinea Pig series. The first two are the most talked about and gained their reputation for not only being relentless visions of torture and dismemberment but for the reactions following their release. Famously, here in the states, one legend tells of a drugged up Charlie Sheen being given a taped copy of Guinea Pig: Flower of Flesh and Blood (1985) (a present from Chris Gore) and contacting the FBI when he believed the footage was from an actual snuff film. In actuality, the film had been a fictional creation by artist Hideshi Hino, based on his manga series Hino Horror, as follow up to Satoru Ogura's Guinea Pig: Ginî Piggu - Akuma no Jikken (1985). In 1986 a third Guinea Pig: He Never Dies (by Masayuki Kusumi) was released, which featured a different, unconnected story. This is followed by a 4th Guinea Pig: Devil Woman Doctor (by Hajime Tabe and Satoru Ogura) in 1986 without connection to the previous entries. The third and fourth films deviated noticeably from the commitment to brutality of the first two films. Instead they included comedy and a relatively fleshed out story with the graphic content. With Mermaid in a Manhole, Hideshi Hino returned to the series, having started work on the film around the same time as Kazuhito Kuramoto's Guinea Pig: Android of Notre Dame. Instead of reinstating the series original spirit, the director's second installment took the gross-out special effects on an altogether different route. Effectively, the first films had been strictly a display of violence, and the follow-ups had been grotesque dark comedies. However, Hideshi Hino would change the mood once again, inviting several new factors into the project. While I would argue there is artistic value to found in all of the films, especially the first two, if you can stomach it, Mermaid in a Manhole is damn near poetic. This one still has the shock in globs, and it's just as hard of a sale for most viewers, but it's very much its own unique creature.

There is some confusion about the film's place in the series as various releases claim not Mermaid in the Manhole, but Devil Woman Doctor to be the fourth movie. According to some, this stems from Mermaid being in production at the same time as Android of Notre Dame, and a jumbled release order in some markets (If you have any info on this, with a source, let me know).

The technical qualities of the film come in two flavors: tight, frugal-chic, and incredibly effective special effects. Both the lighting and the sets are produced with a BBC-drama meets an early Cinemax softcore aesthetic, but are used well to further the film's balance between madness and depression. The editing is functionally minimal, with the exclusion of some stylized or thought-out moments. Similarly, the cinematography keeps it basic in many cases, using a consistent uniform framing, though it deviates from this to pair emotional themes with dramatic angles. The mermaid is well put together at all points in the film, to the degree that the half-human, half-fish aspect is a little creepy all on its own. Every so often, we see the tail splashing around in the water, and there's something inhuman to its motions, selling the fish chimera enough to go past fantastical to some unsettling realism. To fit with the only standing theme in the Guinea Pig series, there is a centerpiece of blood and pus-filled sores that eventually cover the body of the beautiful fish-lady. While the practical effects have their better angles, it's a masterful mess of pulsating body horror that pulls no punches. It makes me wince even after repeat viewing and is tailor-made to make any trypophobics in the audience take flight. This is all topped off with a display of gore in the fashion one would expect from the series, being both overdone and realistic enough. Altogether, the high-end gooey stuff splashed on top of the low budget sets is a surprisingly good look that I can only describe as a straight to video 90s fantasy film with an oozing infection and a heroin addiction.

Guinea Pig: Mermaid in the Manhole is the most delicious mystery seafood platter covered in boils I have ever tasted. Although the film is bare-bones at times, it is melancholy and disgusting in some of my favorite ways. It's not for everyone, or even necessarily fans of the other films in the series. Actually, it may not be for anyone, and not just because it's fucking gross and insane. It is akin to taking a peek into a personal notebook filled with graphic, fucked up doodles you were never supposed to see. The title water-nymph holds on to much of the classic mystique present in a bulk of familiar lore but corrupts it with a skin graft of memorable body horror. I'm glad it exists, although I’ll never look at Ariel the same way again.

(Warning: Trailer includes more spoilers than I did in review)

1h 3min | 1988

Director: Hideshi Hino

Writer: Hideshi Hino

Links:

On Amazon (affiliate link)

Review by:

RevTerry

The HUMP! Film Festival in Los Angeles - Guest Review by M.B. Samba

noreply@blogger.com (VideoReligion) — Wed, 18 Mar 2020 01:31:00 +0000

This review is dedicated to the woman in the dizzy-print dress whose personal excitement brought me to ease with the eroticism of it all and ultimately taught me to love The Hump! (I mean this in the least pervy way possible).
The Hump! Film Festival addressed one of my main concerns around watching pornographic films in theaters, and that is, the fear of being surprised with a splash of some stranger’s sex-goo, be it male or female ( I like to, at the least, know the names of the people who sling sex-goo towards me). One of the few rules at Hump!, after all, is no more than the usual diddling allowed in the theater.
I had never seen porn in a theater before, but I always imagined the experience to be like the average movie routine with stickier floors. What did surprise me, however, was the positive communal feeling that was present at the theater. I did not expect that mood as I rarely feel it outside of Horror & Comedy movie screenings. This was an amazing surprise for sure!

Let's start with what to expect: Who attends? Well, it was a hodgepodge of all types, so if you're thinking of going- Go! Someone you can relate to will be there. And what about the floors? Well, you can't expect miracles from a theater, can you? Plus, on the upside (or at least for me), no free-flying slime. But what about the features themselves?
The showcase at Hump! ranged from much of what you would expect to see and a bit that you would not. WILDFIRE was a reminder of the roots of this event with fire dancers getting down, props and all, somewhere in the forest of the Pacific Northwest. THE PIZZA TOPPING showed the audience that it will be a missed opportunity to never have Phil Tippet and Rob Bottin work their magic together on an erotic film or two. RUBBER WORLD, while sounding like the right place for the two people mentioned earlier, was instead a glimpse at the vacation you probably haven't had but maybe should consider. COCK TALES and BUTT BANGO left me wondering when Disney and Laika films would finally let their animation department loose. TELL ME WHAT YOU LIKE easily drew in the crowd to the experience on screen. The theater reverberated with a flurry of different feelings throughout its screening. If the purpose of art is to incite emotion, then TELL ME WHAT YOU LIKE was very successful.

This brings me to two of the festival's best highlights, and its rust tinted lows. Regular old sex between a couple soaked in sepia tones is not that exciting. Was it well filmed? Yes-- but we've all gotten down on an afternoon-delight. Would sheer curtain lighting and sepia filter warrant a short film? On the other side of the spectrum, however, are LOST + FOUND & BRUNCH ON BIKES. These are two very different films that very much felt like a short-form cinema. Sure, holes were stuffed, and "love" was made, but the story was there. It was fun; it was emotional and most important of all, it was erotic. What should porn be if not a steamy and debaucherous fun that we can all get lost in for a second and rub one out at the same time?
If I leave you with any impression, I hope it is that if you're thinking of going next time the festival is near you-- go! But remember-- just because a film is not your type of smut, doesn't mean it's only for laughs. Now, enough with the preaching. I have writer's block and might just try to rub it out real quick…

LINKS:

Official Website

Can't Kill This (2019) is available to stream from several VOD services. Visit the official site for details.

Article by
M.B. Samba

Can't Kill This (2019) Quick Review

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Tue, 10 Mar 2020 00:48:00 +0000

Tony Thompson (Bill Hutchens) and Kacy Knight (Josephine Scandi) are a loving pair of seasoned hippies holding tight to their 1970s good old days. The two have become obsessed with locating an old friend, who, as indicated by some faithful clues, seems to have not only gone through life without aging but also survived several extravagant deaths. Documenting their quest, the aging vegans investigate the old chum’s whereabouts, uncovering several lifetimes worth of interesting associates and extreme events. When they finally reunite with the immortal Joe (Brutius Selby), it becomes apparent that he would like nothing more than to finally rest for good. The kind duo will do anything to help a friend and possibly gain some extra life themselves.

With the destination that is hard to pin down, Can't Kill This is a road trip through odd feel-good vibes, dark comedy, and slapstick gore. The tale is loads of fun, but there is a dark liner that is a little beyond its morbid central theme. From the beginning, the delivery is warm, natural and in line with the format. The tone makes a bridge between realistic, cartoon, and irreverent. Going in, I assumed it would be a satirical take on horror tropes, something along the lines of Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon (2006) or even Creep (2014). I love both of those films but was pleasantly surprised that it stands on its own and holds just as much in common with mockumentaries from Christopher Guest & Co. It could easily be a demented road-movie cousin to Best in Show (2000) with an extra dose of LSD and practical gore.

It's not a scary flick, and only "boops" horror on the nose at times, but genre fans can find hidden callbacks thrown out along the trail. The personalities the couple meets along their trip, are memorably out-there and come with a textbook’s worth of canon all their own. I could happily watch a whole movie following “The Bear Raper”s (Sean James Sutton) life as he describes his past exploits. Some subtle sadness slips in every so often and easily blends with darker humor. While the events and roles on screen are goofy and entertaining, the mood moves into bleak without a pause. This makes it as tricky as it is relatable. It's almost always funny but with extra meat to chew on, and not just because the joke revolves around a dude that has been "killed" several times.

Our main characters, played by Bill Hutchens and Josephine Scandi, have amazing chemistry and are endearing even when the small cracks show in their motivation. Hutchens has the approach of a zany neighbor who would share his red-bud indiscriminately as long as someone was down to hear his life story. The actor fits the role on several levels, and his character comes out completely lived-in. Scandi is a little more nuanced as she doesn't wear her entire personality on her sleeve like her partner. She and the writing fill out a character whose best moments are partially obscured. She gets better with repeat viewing, and I caught some of her funniest moments only on my second watch through. The tired Joe breaks the more lively insanity with tragic calm. It's almost non-acting on Brutius Selby’s part, in a good way, and his character's lack of interest in a world of eccentrics is fittingly weathered.

Can't Kill This (aka Fuck You Immortality) is a steady stream of bloodsoaked laughs with some surprising undertones and awkward authenticity. I enjoyed myself, but have no desire to live forever. I'm pretty much ready for death after a single workday.

1h 21min | 2019

Director: Federico Scargiali

Writer: Federico Scargiali

Links:

Official Site at Creepmaker.com

Review by:

RevTerry

Satan's Blood (1978) Review

noreply@blogger.com (RevTerry) — Tue, 03 Mar 2020 04:36:00 +0000

Religion is much more fun in movies than in real life. Actual churches just don't have the payoff and mostly stick to the tedious aspects of mysticism. Although some are capable of great acts of violence, they never show off any real magic. Often they seem to want to be involved in our love lives but never in a good way. From my perspective, if you are going to devote your life to some fictional nonsense, it should be entertaining, at least. There are interesting faiths out there, and they're not all bad, I guess, but the cinematic counterpart is always more exciting. Take satanism, for example. As far as dogmas go, they have an eye-catching style. I won't be signing up or giving anyone my money because it's all bullshit to me, but you can't beat the overall motif and decoration choices. I haven't ever been brave enough to wear a cape myself, but I have always secretly wanted to. Robes are awesome as well, and it goes without saying that I'm a fan of spooky shit. While the theology comes in a variety of flavors, some a little more tolerable than others, it's almost never boring. However, the fact remains, the movie version of the belief is much more… intense.

Ana (Mariana Karr) and Andres (José María Guillén) are a happy (gullible) young couple with plans to take a vacation. One day, while out for a drive with their dog "Blackie" they are stopped in traffic by Bruno (Ángel Aranda) and his wife, Berta(Sandra Alberti). Instead of asking for some kind of mustard, Bruno claims to be an old chum from college, but Andres has no recollection of him. After seeing a picture depicting the two as students, the forgotten friendship is humored, and the lovers are invited by their new/old pals for a sleepover and possible wife swapping. Enticed by Bruno and Berta's remote home, they accept, having been undecided on what to do with their time off. Upon arriving, the couple shares a drink before the lady of the house breaks out a fancy Ouija board. That goes less than alright, but the hosts have many occult games to play, and they are just getting started with their guests.

Satan's Blood is a deli-salad of occult ritual, nudity, and bizarre social skills that presents with a ritualistic sacrifice before the title credits hit the screen. As the main couple is first introduced to the mysterious supposed acquaintances, the film borrows a few notes from Rosemary's Baby (1968), particularly the 1968 film's introduction of the Castevets. However, it shakes most of that in lieu of some gung ho swinger vibes. Much like with Debbie from Friday the 13th Part III, it is mentioned early on (in the subtitles) that Ana is pregnant, and later that is wholly forgotten. Because this detail never comes to fruition in the plot (in the English version anyway), I can only assume either Satan just likes pregnant ladies or it was an arc lost in the tales evolution. The story itself is thin and perfectly confusing, essentially amounting to Satanists doing horrible things in a spooky house to a couple who don't know when to leave. That alone would be absolutely fine by me, but the tale is adorned in functional detail which elevates the trip on several levels. These touches flush out the would-be cliche horror and make the dark, entertaining ride a complete package of sleaze, terror, and art. Don't get me wrong, it's a mess of random tropes, and it doesn't make sense. I have no idea why the main characters don't just leave, but while you're actually watching, it's too engaging to care.

Along with providing surface-level blood, tits, and Satanic thrills, it's a movie that rewards those paying attention. Closely watching is not integral to enjoying, however, and just adds bonus flavor to the filling dose of atmospheric supernatural horror and tantalizing taboo.
The film parts-out it's explicit content in healthy chunks placed into the run-time and often stops for long, strange setups. Following a showcasing of life in the late 70s and wearing relaxed business wear, the remainder pulls together a greatest-hits of religious/occult references and objects. The people responsible for The Conjuring Universe could make a whole series out of all the spooky shit that shows up in this movie. They could squeeze at least a couple films out of the doll that plays Where's Waldo for a while in the background before it comes to life as one of the more actually scary evil toys in my memory. There is enough sex to be categorized as softcore porn, although it primarily happens in one long chunk. It's basically a rule for the genre to involve some sexy time, but it gets extra points for holding on to the film's drug-trip pacing. Plus, everyone knows that the Dark Lord loves a sweaty foursome. Uncharacteristically, there is little bloodshed on screen. When it does throw out the gore, it quickly showcases with some gruesome displays that, while heavily stylized, pack some bite. Fair warning--the dog dies in this one, and while it fits with the rest of the terrible atrocities going on, I'm pretty sure it's the most fucked up part of the movie. But I cried at the end of The Fly II (1989), so take that as you will.

The movie puts an excess of pentagrams and arcane objects to work with a bright, colorful 70s palette. It stays relatively lit through all of the spooky and grim events, dressing them in an almost psychedelic fashion. Even in the darkness, the characters are illuminated with one of the uncountable fires in the mansion or a stage-like spotlight. As a part of an overall effective atmosphere, there are recurring visual themes and symbolism that can be both beautiful or overdone, with some interesting overlap. This all comes together with a pairing of strong camera work and (mostly) smooth editing. Outside of a few seemingly out of place cuts, the construction is meaningful and done with purpose. It's not groundbreaking, but here in the States, in these modern times, I've often seen similar 70's genre film cut to pieces then re-purposed and reconstructed, so it stands out that it made it to me in this form.

For all of its outrageousness, the entire film is small in scale. There are no more than ten characters involved, and it is set almost entirely in one location. The few scenes outside of the mansion take the time to utilize the beautiful Madrid locale. The home of the nefarious Bruno and Burta is like a Halloween store mixed with a drug dealer's villa. Honestly, even after watching it serve as a circus of the damned, I would still live there in a heartbeat. I don't know if I would sell my soul or anything, but my goals definitely involve having a mansion that says I'm a creepy dude who also throws good parties.

The film was initially released as Escalofrío in its native country before being retitled Satan's Blood for American theaters and “Schock” in Germany. For the UK and on video in the US, it was dubbed Don't Panic, a seemingly unconnected phrase that only serves to remind me of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Along with being an entry of the era's international "satanic horror" trend, the work's explicit nature could also be seen as a mark of a Spanish cinema's freedom from the censorship of Francoist dictatorship (ending in 1975) and its grip on media. It was written directed by Carlos Puerto and released the same year as his dramatic thriller El Francotirador (1978), which starred Paul Naschy. The two movies were his first full length features following work in television as a producer/writer and two short documentaries. Juan Piquer Simon, the man behind such exploitation classics as Pieces (1982) and Slugs (1988), served as the film art producer and reportedly served as an uncredited co-director. This involvement came on the heels of Simón's schlocky take on Journey To The Center Of the Earth, Where Time Began (1977), and was closely preceded by the zany superman knock off Supersonic Man (1979). The film's score was provided by Librado Pastor as his first credited film project. After helping along Satan's blood atmosphere substantially, he would continue to work alongside Simón, putting music to Extra-Terrestrial Visitors (1983) and the original Spanish cut of Pieces.

The beautiful Argentinian soap star Mariana Karr plays Ana. In the same year, she was a cast member of the show Un Mundo de Veinte Asientos and continued to work in television until her death in 2016. Another Spanish language TV star José María Guillén is her on-screen husband, Andres. A few months before Satans's Blood, he appeared in the comedy ¡Vaya par de Gemelos!, while up to that point he was mostly known for his smaller parts on TV dramas. Sandra Alberti, the film’s Berta, had a busy 1978. She shows up in five releases, including León Klimovsky's Violación fatal (1978). The following year she would have a part in Historia de 'S' before leaving film altogether until the 2010s when she would pop up again for a few voice acting gigs. Bruno is realized by Ángel Aranda, while in the twilight of a hearty career stocked with exploitation films. This includes spaghetti Western I Do Not Forgive... I Kill! (1968), crime thriller The Underground (1970) and sci-horror Planet of the Vampires (1965). Recognizable actor Luis Barboo shows up in the film in a small role labeled only as “Guarda.” Even With over 140 roles to his name, I can't help but think of him as "Red Hair '' from Conan the Barbarian (1982).

Satan's Blood (1978) is a solid example of sleazy, supernatural European horror, that stuffs a menagerie of entertaining evil into a swinger's wet nightmare. Think-- the legacy, and a singalong-less Rocky Horror, banging one out with some friends while Rosemary's Baby plays in the background. Even though it has its dips in action, it is engaging, and there is more symbolism than the cover of a Led Zeppelin album. I have a lot of fun with this one, and it compliments any "Prince of Fornication '' marathon night I might be having. The depiction of ritualistic satanism is a fucking blast, but I wouldn't call it fully representative of the real Satanists I have met. All things considered, though, that's probably a good thing.

1h 22min | 1978

Directors: Carlos Puerto (with Juan Piquer Simón)

Writer: Carlos Puerto

Links: