King Cohen: The Wild World of Filmmaker Larry Cohen (2017) Documentary Review

I got the screener for this documentary last year, but being a lazy asshole, I never got around to it. With the recent passing of Mr. Cohen, I thought it was high time I STOP being a lazy asshole and view it. Now that I’ve watched it, I feel like even more of an asshole, and am sorry I took so long to experience it.

As someone who never really paid that close attention to the people behind the scenes of a movie (writer, director, cinematographer, etc.) I didn’t even know Larry Cohen’s name. I have, however, seen a few of his films, and they certainly have made a lasting impression.

This documentary doesn’t delve too deeply into his childhood and upbringing, but instills in us his early proclivity toward creativity and imagination. Though his career as a stand-up comedian didn’t pan out, the art behind performing and writing a good show definitely translated into his television and movie career.

It seemed natural, too, that his career evolved from writer, to director, and eventually producer. From what he (and everyone who knew him) said, he didn’t like other people screwing up his work, so why not just do it himself? That didn’t stop him from getting fired off a few jobs (when there was a separate production company involved.) But even so, by that point, he’d have gotten what he wanted from the show, and was then able to move on to other projects.

According to his second wife, he was a prolific idea man, and could write up to twenty-five pages every day!

I’m not going to discuss every film brought up in the documentary, or cover every detail explored. The one thing I really took away from this was a shared consensus on Larry’s genius. His films were powerful and raw; his creative eye allowed him to make a location as much a character as any actor in the film; his guerrilla warfare tactics on filming kept his movies more budget friendly, and it’s part of what makes his films so “Larry.”

On a more personal level, everyone interviewed for this documentary remembered Larry as a generous, kind, funny, sweet, kinda wacky, fearless man, and one of the most brilliant filmmakers to ever come around the scene. His style could never be reproduced today, which is a little sad, but also makes his legacy that much more enduring. For me, his movie, The Stuff, has always been, and continues to be, a favorite – even though, when I first saw it, I never understood its “wink wink” statement on consumerism and unethical business practices that were rampant in the eighties.

For anyone who wants to learn more about Larry Cohen, or would like a deeper look to his writing/directing life, this documentary is a must. Then go seek out his shows and movies. I know I will, and I’ll be able appreciate them from a perspective I didn’t have this morning.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Cohen.

5 Hatchets (out of 5)

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Movie Review: "Death Kiss" (2017; Millman Productions/Mosquito Entertainment/Uncorked Entertainment)

…”…I’m just a bill…yes, I’m only a bill…and someday I’m gonna be a law-w-w-w…oh, I hope and pray that I will, but today I am still…just a bill…”…

…no secret that in order to make for a good exploitation film…and we’re focusing on a pretty wide window, here…from the thrifty ‘30’s, to today’s torrid toddies…the classic exploitation film…well, it just has to have something to exploit, right?? A gimmick, for lack of a better word. And over the almost 100-year span of cult film history, gimmicky exploitation films have come and gone…the less enduring gimmicks, fading as surely as a film fades to black, but permanently (…hey, I’m looking at you, ‘Terror of Tiny Town’, ‘Zaat’ and ‘Lambada, the Forbidden Dance’, just to name a scant few of the come, gone and went’s)…

…however, it also stands to reason, with history having often dictated…given a well-written rendering, some dynamically memorable visuals & direction…not to mention, some accompanying performances to play alongside…well, that lil’ ol’ exploitation gimmick may well unexpectedly find itself nurtured and transmogrified into a genre…proudly and shamelessly rearing it’s muck-crusted visage into the sun…or rather onto the flickering screen of countless anytown cinematic cathedrals, indoor and outdoor…again, and again, and again…

…now, we could spend ages here, b’wees ‘n’ goils, listing and covering an endless string of cult film genres (…and truth be known, I almost did, in my own imitable, albeit exhausting fashion…uh, can you say ‘rewrite’??), from dusty grungy biker flicks, to the sex-crazed, catfight-instilling antics of women behind bars…from the far-northern offerings of Canuxploitation (…that’s Canada, to you and me), to the deep-southern reaches of ozploitation (…oh, those Aussies), and as far easterly as the home of the giallo, the spaghetti western, and the Nazi camp nasties…all of this and more, as seen from the countless steamy, musky-smelling aisles of the pitch-black inner-city grindhouse theater balconies…as well as the equally steamy and musky, albeit cramped confines of a free-wheein’ convertible at the local drive-in…

…interestingly enough, some of the more obscure and lesser exploitation genres were based directly upon specific things, specific places…even specific people and characters. Which might explain why in the ‘spaghetti western’ genre, we had countless, though mostly un-associated films on the Django and Sartana characters. Chum-chompin’ shark-spoitation, anyone?? Down home, red-necked, okie single-toothed, Kentucky- fried Hixsploitation?? Can’t get enough perversely sacrilegious, virginal deflowering Nunspoitation, right?? And leave us not forget about ass-kickin’, chop-socky Bruce-sploitation, or even Travolta-sploitation (…the single movie of which I covered herein, some years ago, with “John Travolto... da un insolito destino”…also known as “The Face with Two Left Feet”). Or how about…well, this…

…Anna, a young and attractive single mother, having abruptly moved from the deliberating scourges of inner-city violence, to the seemingly peaceful, safe and reassuring country outskirts with her invalid, wheelchair-restricted daughter, is nonetheless made uneasy and cautious, when she receives mysterious packages in the mail, containing very large sums of money. As the packages continue to arrive, with no sign of who and where they might be from, Ana becomes gradually aware of an ever-vigilant and equally mysterious stranger in the distance, keenly watching the both of them with a certain elating and seemingly protective satisfaction…

…unbeknownst to Ana, this mysterious stranger…when he’s not holding a dedicated vigilance over her and her daughter…has ruthlessly staked a bloody and vengeful claim of private justice over the criminals, thieves and drug dealers in the neighboring city area, violently gunning them down in retributive cold blood, and taking their money. In the midst of relentlessly wading through a seemingly never-ending siege of slimy and grungy criminal element…with guns a-blazing, this urban terminator, slowly but surely, makes his way through the city’s crime-driven ranks, to the one nefarious perpetrator who appears to be in the center of it all…and there’s a very just, harrowing and specific reason why he’s seeking him out, at all costs…

…now, setting the wayback machine to…say, about early-to-mid ‘80’s, or so…specifically, back in Cannon Pictures reigning golden era of filmmaking…this budding reviewer and longtime fan of the great Charles Bronson, at the time, was made flashing privy via televised interviews, pictures and printed celebrity rags, of the incredible resemblance of Mr. Bronson, and his striking lookalike stand-in performer. In recalling, it was absolutely uncanny, the resemblance between the two…but for the time, the startling revelation was alas, a fleeting moment, and in all honesty, this cult film fan didn’t get a name, to match the lookalike face…

…some 35 years later…specifically, a couple years ago…along came well under the radar, a trite albeit competent and engaging lil’ western-themed thriller, called “From Hell to the Wild West”. A notable, though negligible lil’ sliver of an exploitation flick, the clever storyline of which speculates what actually happened to Jack the Ripper, once his bloody and murderous reign of terror and death in the dark and murky alleys of Whitechapel, abruptly and mysteriously ceased in the late 1800’s. However, given the film’s poster art and home video cover art, it wasn’t as much the interesting storyline that stood out…but the striking-in-appearance casting of Hungarian-hailed actor Robert Kovacs Bronzi, as a determined old west lawman, on the hunt for a ruthless and bloodthirsty serial killer, plaguing the local prairie townships…

…so now, we have a name to a rather strikingly familiar face…

…2018’s ”Death Kiss”…Robert Bronzi’s second feature film, and the second of four films to date…despite not having any solid, or even outright original substance or storyline, save for the typical and stereotyped ‘cold-hearted vigilante’ movie genre standards, similar to those set forth by the likes and dynamics of late great Charles Bronson, back in his ‘Death Wish’ days…surprisingly enough, under the able direction of up & coming schlock director Rene Perez, plays out as sort of an offshoot of a Paul Kersey-like character’s nocturnal and lawless homicidal mayhem…kinda like ol’ Paul was in the midst of one of his typically ‘blow ‘em away with extreme prejudice’ vigilante rampages, when something ‘offscreen’ went drastically awry enough to instill the need for taking care of this lil’ sideline thing, before getting back to business…with we, the viewers, being fortunate witness privy to that abrupt detour…

…really, in melding movie fantasy with reality…when the final ‘Death Wish’ film credits scrolled down the screen, surely you would think that Paul Kersey himself couldn’t have taken a breather from his bang-bang, sole justice driven shenanigans…impatiently waiting until that next sequel flashed it’s opening title card?? (…uh, I think not…clearly, the man’s got better things to do, if you know what I mean…with the lasting hint of righteously rampant blood spray, followed by a flashing whiff of bullet cartridge sulfur)…

…but despite the generic ‘Death Wish’ like, cookie-cutter action and generic storyline clock works offered herein…well dammit, there’s just no looking away from how damn freaking ‘is it real or is it Memorex/not the Beatles, but an incredible simulation’ striking it is, in seeing ‘Charles Bronson’ back on the screen, even though it’s not actually ‘the man’ himself. In effect, actor Robert Bronzi has offered up a clearly exploitative opportunist gimmick, but at the same time, it seems a loving and respectful tribute to an urban action star, long missed by fans…

…rounding out the cast…Eva Hamilton is quite vulnerable, relatable and  sympathetic as Anna, a perceptive waif of a gal who not only instigated an abrupt move to the serene countryside, in a desperate effort to get away from the violently cold, cruel and heartless city streets, as well as provide a much more stable and loving family life for her daughter…a tragic victim of those cold and hardened streets…but also in hopes of finding penance for the tainted life she once led…a life that has instilled overwhelming guilt in Ana’s heart, in believing that the mistakes and misgivings of this past life were indirectly responsible for her daughter’s invalid condition…

…cast in the role of an angst radio talk show host (…in a sort of slightly ironic years-later performance which indirectly reflects back to his brother Alec’s supporting character play, in 1988’s ‘Talk Radio’), Daniel Baldwin chimes in, playing a sort of supportive over-the-air mouthpiece to Robert Bronzi’s/the stranger’s deadly nocturnal vengeance, deftly putting into words what violently drastic actions this righteously lawless ‘champion’ is engaging in, and the effects of those actions on the city populous...and truth be known, he may well have a personally informed connection with this dark instigator of private justice…

…Richard Tyson…one of the busiest, albeit very underappreciated character actors working today (…good gawd!! Is that…it that actually Buddy Revell, from 1987’s “Three o’clock High”??)…completes this associated circle of characters, retching out a colorful, though typically cold, hard criminal type…perverse and sadistic…who finds himself the invariable target of an equally cold and hard vigilante, without knowing in the onset why he’s being targeted…but of course, if there’s any truth or routine to films of this particular genre…well, he will know, and he will pay…

…”Death Kiss” may well be short on substance, but it makes up for it’s stunted fervor, in favor of some nicely standard character play, as well as an interestingly woven, albeit threadbare storyline, which does attain a moderately satisfying revelation in the end. It’s a low-rent ‘cliff notes’ variation on the old Charles Bronson ‘Death Wish’ motif, that’s engaging enough to warrant more than just a mere curious look, and…yeah, we’re beating a dead horse here…but damn, there’s just no getting over that freakin’ resemblance of Bronzi’s character…over and above merely being played by the numbers, using the exploitative Bronson template…

…might there be a respectable amount of sustainable life and staying power in this gimmick?? Hey, Bronson-sploitation, anyone?? Eh, could be…ah hell, why not, right??.....

TEXT HERE

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Movie Review: Animalistic (2015)

Okay, it’s time to get back on this movie reviewing mechanical horse! Hey, you have your mixed idioms, and I have mine…

We begin 2019 with a screener for a movie that came out in 2015 (though I just got it last summer, which is why I don’t feel too bad for being so late in bringing you this review.) Animalistic brings us the story of a young woman, Emma, who is kidnapped on her way back from a big business interview. The shady taxi driver, Shirley, chloroforms our not-so-savvy professional woman, and when she wakes, Emma finds herself the captive of a greasy man named Jim, and his slow-witted buddy, Peter.

Over the course of the next few days, Jim rapes and sodomizes Emma. Peter is more there for the gross stuff – I’m pretty sure he fucked the corpse of the previous victim – or to keep an eye on the captive while Jim goes about his normal life with his buddies, and WIFE AND KID.

Eventually, Emma finds the means to escape (a couple of times,) and is able to get revenge on her captors before walking off to freedom.

Double Review: Retirement of Joe Corduroy and Skin Eating Jungle Vampires

Since one of the films I’m covering today is a short, let’s make this a double review, shall we? You’re welcome. Though after reading the second review, you may die a little inside.

The Retirement of Joe Corduroy (2012)

This short film is a nice little slice of revenge exploitation. I’m not saying it’s superior to most that are already out there but only using up 25 minutes AND still getting me to care about the characters is a pretty neat trick.

Joe is a retiring dentist. He’s not all that thrilled at the reality but seems he can’t do much about it. He and his nephew, Spencer, are really close and share a love of guns. I think it’s implied that they share a lot more and have a great relationship but the guns are the main focus here. One night, Spencer is jumped, mugged, beaten, and left for dead. As he lies in a hospital bed, comatose, Joe whispers a promise to him - “They’re all gonna pay.”

And so Joe starts a new job of taking down criminals, vigilante style! 

Movie Review: Dust Up (2012)

I admit I was a bit nervous about this one. Any movie that touts “a new unique (insert genre here)” usually ends up being neither. And just makes me very very angry.

But I’m happy to report that this film didn’t totally suck ass!

Dust Up is the story of Jack, a veteran who’s missing an eye (one eyed Jack, get it?), and lives out in the desert trying to be at peace with the world. His closest neighbor and friend, Mo, who dresses in an Indian bone breastplate, animal skin, and a feather for his sweatband, is about as mellow as they come. 

Jack’s handyman job keeps the bills paid and one day he meets Ella, a pretty young woman with a baby and an absent junkie husband, Herman (he’s a roadie), whose ramshackle ramshack is falling apart. While figuring out how to help, the husband returns in a panic - he owes $3500 to the local drug lord, Buzz. If he doesn’t get it by end of day, Herman is a dead man.

Movie Review: Nightmare Sisters (1988, Vinegar Syndrome)

Directed by David DeCoteau

Movie Review by Greg Goodsell

Melody (Linnea Quigley in buck teeth), Mickey (Michelle Bauer in a fat suit) and Marci (Brinke Stevens all nerded out) are dorky sorority sisters who have the frat house to themselves for a weekend. Their solution? Invite some equally nerdy fraternity brothers for a house party!

Unfortunately, Marci has made a recent thrift score find with a cursed crystal ball that took the life of its previous owner, an accursed spiritual medium (Dukey Flyswatter of the notorious shock rock band Haunted Garage). The girls whip out said crystal ball for an impromptu séance and our transformed into glamorous, insatiable succubi – female demons who like nothing more than seducing males and then castrating them with their fangs! Things get complicated with the arrival of an exorcist (Jim Culver) to drive out the demons. Low-grade comedy hijinks ensue.

Movie Review: "The Bandit" (2016, Documentary; Miles End Films/CMT)

...hey, no doubt about it...it was a little '70's drive-in-flavored flick, with some rather big cohones...er, rather big ambitions. Pretty much snubbed as mere exploitative dreck by just about every studio who laid eyes upon the script...yes, even by A.I.P., of all places...hell, even by the very studio that eventually, albeit reluctantly picked it up for production...and surprisingly (...considering his previous few films of similar ilk, playing the likes of 'Gator' McKlusky, W.W. Bright, or simply Lewis, from "Deliverance"), it was even resigned and relegated as virtually unreleasable by the film's proposed star, who called the script 'ridiculous', suggesting that no one, absolutely no one would buy into it (...though, with the added 'what-the-hell' notion of 'well, OK...if you can get the money and the studio, I'll do it'). Clearly, a gamble for the film's untried director...this pretty much unknown,  recklessly seasoned, albeit capable stuntman, albeit with 20 years of experience, having executed some of the most dynamic falls, crashes and fist-fights set to film, and still managing to walk away from it all, relatively unscathed. Indeed, a gamble for even the film's aforementioned 'star' who put his own reputation and superstardom on the line...nay, not for the money, not for the fame, not even for the experience...but for his dearest and most devoted friend, who's abilities, though not necessarily the project, he had the utmost faith in, even as everyone else was suggesting...no, outright insinuating that he couldn't do it...

Movie Review: "The Green Inferno" (2014; Blumhouse Tilt/Universal/High Top Releasing)

...as they said in that old cigarette commercial, 'you've come a long way, baby!!"...

...yes, indeed-ee, folks!! We've definitely come a long way, as far as an semblance of depiction of that oh-so taboo subject of unspeakable horror...that oh-so forbidden atrocity of human behavior...namely, the subversive and gut-wrenching concept of (...yeech!!) human cannibalism. Oh granted, in the past, we're toyed and danced around the ghastly activity, from a pop culture perspective...tempering the material with a certain overt and irreverent level of chuckle-able, knee-slapping humor. Surely, you remember those corny and stereotyped 'Looney Tunes"...the ones which had a helpless and clueless, jungle-entrenched Elmer Fudd, soaking in a big ol' black pot of steaming hot water, while a black-faced, grass-skirted primitive with bone through his nose, and sporting dreadlocks (...'onga-bonga-bonga, onga-bonga-bonga'), is cutting up carrots and potatoes into the bulbous cooking vessel. And a wayward-traveling Bugs Bunny, having taken that wrong turn at Albuquerque once again, burrows in at the last moment, and saves the day...as well as Elmer's skin, quite literally...

...and to that...oh, how we laughed...and laughed...and laughed some more...

...and later, there arose a certain social fascination with media-saturated criminal history, and the equally heinous and unspeakable crimes of true-life cannibals, like Ed Gein and Albert Fish...the horrific exploits of which were incorporated into a provocative and controversial sub-genre of horror films, stemming back as far as 1960's "Psycho". and in years to come, we'd revisit these concepts, time and time again, translated into terror films like "Deranged", the later "Hannibal" and "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre". Heck, even during this period, filmmakers would again attempt to temper that oh-so horrific idea of cannibalism, by injecting comical fervor into the ghastly and gruesome proceedings, as evident by dark-humored fright films, such as "Motel Hell", "Delicatessen" and "Parents", just to name a tender and juicy few...

Movie Review: Escape from the Bronx (1983)

When I first looked at the CD art on this I thought Jeff sent me Escape from NY. Okay. Maybe John Carpenter re-released it or something, wanted to get it back in front of the general population. I enjoy Kurt Russell. But on closer inspection I realized this is a film that obviously tried to cash in on the popularity of Snake Plisskin and his band of merry thugs (I mean, they had a character with an eye patch for crying out loud. AN EYE PATCH!)

Escape from the Bronx tells us the story of what a shit hole the Bronx is and some douchebag CEO of the GC Corporation wants to raze it to the ground then rebuild all of New York with nicer housing and no crime. Riiiiiight. How can this guy run an entire company and be so fucking stupid at the same time?

The gubmint assures everyone that they will receive alternative accommodations, better than what they have now, in beautiful New Mexico. Why they have to go live all the way across the country is unclear. As you can imagine, some people are pissed and don’t want to leave. Well, too bad for you because if you don’t get out when they ask nicely, you are fried up extra crispy via the flame throwers carried by the DAS - Disinfestation Annihilation Squad.

Wow. They don’t even PRETEND to sugar coat it, do they? Though I can appreciate their honesty.

Meet Trash, one of these stubborn tried and true New Yawkers (played by Marco DiGregorio from Rome, Italy - I wonder if he’s related to Cha Cha?). He and a bunch of other folks live in the tunnels under the city, lead by Dablone. He thinks the death squads are too chicken to come down and run them out so he does nothing to fight back. But after Trash’s parents are murdered, he enlists the help of a plucky journalist, Moon Grey (who has been trying to get the truth out to the rest of the country about all the bat shit craziness) and a former bank robber, Strike, to kidnap the CEO of GC Corp which will in turn force the government to negotiate terms.

Movie Review: Home Before Midnight (1979; Kino Lorber/Redemption Films)

...as might have more than likely been the case, as far as anyone else...if this open-minded, cinema-crazed viewer had, back in the golden days of browsing the video rental isles, perchance and out of curiosity, pulled this quirky little drama off the rental shelf, having previously devoured director Pete Walker's better-known excursions...that is, at the time, without really knowing him as a director, by name...which favored much more visceral, exploitative, accentedly sadistic and horrific genre arenas, I may well have shrugged my shoulders, and place the tape back on the shelf...though having taken a chance on the film, I would have been surprisingly taken back at how provocative and equally exploitative the film was, despite the headline-driven dramatic subject matter, which is presented, in 1979's "Home Before Midnight". Hmmm...interestingly enough, this viewer...several years older now, wasn't genuinely privy of Pete Walker's masterfully rendered work until just after the demise of the video store rental, and well into the digital home video inset; having subscribed to the more graphically lurid, provocative, disturbing and blood-spattered of Walker's entourage, I have to gladly reiterate, having recently viewed his abrupt switch towards the more melodramatic, with "Home...", given the particular time of it's initial release, that he most assuredly had not lost his exploitative touch, with this engaging bit of provocative storytelling...

Movie Review: Video Nasties: Moral Panic, Censorship and Videotape (2010; Nucleus Films/Severin)

...and to think that we've had it bad, here in the States, with regards to an established movies rating board, and it's effect on horror films, or even the whole of motion pictures, itself; well actually, if one gets right down to it, it isn't necessarily the viewers who have it bad here...it's the film makers, and their desire to get their uncut and unexpunged 'vision' out for the genre-favoring public to see (...though, in favor of the filmmakers, their 'vision' is often eventually realized and seen, upon home video release, giving the avid and indiscriminant viewer a choice between the rated and the unrated). The domestically based MPAA ratings board has gone through a whole spectrum of transition, since it's untried 1922 inception...it's staunch, disciplined and assumedly morally driven members...reputably considered a responsible and morally sound lot...yet, often going back and forth and back again, from easy and liberal, to strict and militant. One cannot help but view the more contemporary archival evidence of the past, in taking an overview of this transition, and be quite taken aback...from a day when an imported Dracula film, exuding blatant images and concepts of sex, immorality, drunkenness, lesbianism, atheism, the domineering/surrendering of religion by/to the forces of evil, grave violation, church desecration, and downright violent imagery of blood-gushing death, dismemberment and impalement, garnished a 'G' rating (...circa 1968, Hammer's "Dracula Has Risen from the Grave"...don't believe me?? Check out the movie's page at IMDB. A misprint, you say?? Now check out the back cover of the home video)...to today's ratings board atmosphere, where mere cigarette smoking can make the difference between a 'PG' and 'PG-13' rating, and the difference between a 'PG-13' and "R' rated movie is sometimes dependent upon how many times the word 'fuck' is used in the film. Hypocritical, you say?? As the great Al Jolson once said, "...you ain't seen...or in this case, 'heard' nothing yet!!" Let's take a trip across the seas, to our neighboring continental British counterpart, shall we?? You just ain't gonna believe this...

Shower of Blood (2004) Movie Review

I bought this film a few years back at a horror convention because it was from Brain Damage Films. They don’t always deliver great B-movie fare but I was willing to risk $5 on it because I enjoyed Hell’s Highway so much. Little did I know that our own David Hayes was one of the screenwriters. That’s the only good thing about this flick.

Shower of Blood opens with a quick scene of some poor woman being attacked in the woods. Apparently, there has been a series murders in a local forest and she is the latest victim. Cue the opening credits scrolling over a naked woman rubbing blood all over her tithes.

Next we see a group of friends on their way to visit the one girl’s uncle’s house. I don’t know why and I certainly don’t care. But here’s the character breakdown: Lisa (ball-buster) and Kurt (douche nozzle), Heather (virgin) and Terry (moron), and Megan (drunken slut). Lisa’s Uncle Marty, whose house they are traveling to, isn’t home when they arrive but since she’s family she can let them all in to crash and raid the fridge.

Movie Review: Legend of the Hillbilly Butcher (2014)

“Based on a true story.” Are you fucking kidding me?

Legend of the Hillbilly Butcher begins with a grandpa and his three grandkids during story time. He thinks The Bouncy Bunny is lame piece of shit and decides to tell the little half-pints the story of the Hillbilly Butcher. Because nothing says family bonding like sharing tales of murder, mayhem, and cannibalism with children under 10 years old.

Carl Henry Jessup grew up in the backwoods of...does it matter? It’s the backwoods. His parents owned a butcher shop and the local rumors swirling around told tales of long-pig being served up from that establishment. Grandpa says the meat was rather tasty but let’s skip over that part, and the granddaughter’s “what the fuck” face, and let us gentle viewers know that Carl’s parents were killed and he now basically lives like a hermit on the family land.

And let me tell you. He don’t like folk on his land. There are three things you need to know about Carl:

1. The law ends at his property line.

2. No hunting on his property.

3. No fucking on his property.

Movie Review: Zombie Ass: Toilet of the Dead (2011)

Since I'm not into sports outside of pro football, I could find nothing to watch the other night as every fucking channel in the free world is broadcasting the NCAA basketball championship (March madness, indeed). To the Netflix cue! I put movies on my waiting list for different reasons: I like the actors, the premise, it’s simply horror, or a classic I’ve never seen before. But the movie I’m reviewing today had Cinema Head Cheese written ALL over it.

Zombie Ass: Toilet of the Dead comes to us via Japan. Helmed by former porn director Noboru Iguchi (this IS my shocked face), ZA begins with a young girl suffering from unbearable stomach pains. Her father/doctor tries to help her as best he can by punching a zombie in the stomach until it throws up some wriggly stuff into her mouth.

Wow, the Japanese really ARE different.

Secondhand Smut #2: March & April 2014

Welcome back to this bi-monthly (and arguably bi-sexual) column about my second-hand smut findings (both films and literature). I review treasures (or trash, depending on how you look at it) and I provide you with high resolution scans of their covers. The reviews are kept short in order to have as many as possible each time.

I hope you enjoy as much as I do!

D.O.A. (1950)

A man [Edmond O'Brien from 1984 (1956)] is walking at a police station, during the fabulous credit sequence. He finds the captain and says that he has been murdered. The rest of the movie is a series of flashbacks that will let us know how did this happen. The protagonist was poisoned while he was partying, but even though we know he’s about to die (the doctors say he could live up to two weeks at the most) the film [directed by Rudolph Maté, cinematographer of La passion de Jeanne d'Arc (1928)] is still very interesting, because everybody in it seems to know more than he or she would like to admit (it is sort of an interesting whodunit). The story is very clever and I demand a remake.

This PAL DVD was released here through a newspaper and I bought it at a secondhand store for 1 euro, so I wasn’t expecting much, but still the copy’s quality was shit. Is it me or every low budget black & white flick from this era lacks proper restoration?

Movie Review: Virgin and the Lover/Lustful Feelings (1973/1976; Vinegar Syndrome)

...ya' know?? There's an old saying, once often waved and bantered about the '70's, that said 'different strokes for different folks'; the phrase easily suggested that...hey, everyone is different, and what 'does it' for one person, might not 'do it' for another, no matter how standard, or how unusual 'it' is. Today, the saying might read more like 'whatever floats your boat', or for those more into the indivisible pleasure & pain virtues of a certain Leviathan-ruled, hellish underworld, the mantra might be '...what's your pleasure, sir?' In the end, no matter how it reads, the 'song (always) remains the same'...as Led Zeppelin once sang, and in reiterating, what 'turns on' one person may well be different from what 'turns on' another. Strangely enough...though probably not readily admitted by most...the more unusual the 'turn on', in seeing it through another's eyes, the more irresistibly compelling it is...almost as if one of 'the norm' sees, and is drawn towards something, which one just can't have...that is, without feeling out of 'the norm'. Such tortured complexity of character and emotion...in self-discovery, self-expression and self-indulgence...is the flavor of the moment, as Vinegar Syndrome lets their freak flag fly, in their latest 'drive-in' double feature offering, by 'blue movie' auteur Kemal Horulu (...previously spotlighted, with one of V/S's previous 'drive-in' double feature pairing, "The Sexualist" and "Wendy's Palace"). Lurid & tawdry tales of tortured drama, obsessive longings...and wildly erotic fantasies fulfilled...

Movie Review: The Oral Generation (1970, Vinegar Syndrome)

...this viewer has made no secret of the fact that he absolutely loves the golden age of XXX-rated movies, which was prevalent in and around the '70's and early '80's. There was often a novel story idea, as well as moments of amusement, comedy and bizarre surrealism, interlaced with the voyeuristically lurid and explicitly lingering sex scenes. The actors and actresses in the films, varied in their ability to entice...from bodaciously 'va-va-voom' to alluringly filthy and nasty. And that music...usually ranging from a cool and rhythmic jazz, to...oh, that stereotypically hokey 'waka-waka-ding-dang' riff, which many of the films from that particular era, were known for. Placing that observation on the back burner, for a moment, this viewer later nurtured a curiosity about certain obscure and hard-to-find, sexually explicit films, which were also playing in and around the grindhouse/drive-in circuit, at the time...the trailers of which almost always bore the same enticing line of "...because of possibly impressionable persons in the audience, we can't show you certain scenes of this movie, here in the trailer; however be assured that when this film appears in this theater, it will be presented uncut...a film, specifically geared for today's more progressively promiscuous audience..." (...the late Mike Vraney's 'Something Weird Video's quite entertaining 'Dusk 'til Dawn Drive-In Trash-o-rama' movie trailer collection series, was notorious for splicing in trailers for such films, amidst the genre and exploitation film trailers). Once again, taking it's cue from what 'Something Weird Video' had once done best, Vinegar Syndrome has once again unleashed a selection of films...the headlining "Oral Generation" feature film, and an eclectically assorted & paraded set of short films...which, in this case, herein...delectably, and sometimes mind-scramblingly...assumes the best of both worlds, as mentioned previously...

Movie Review: Sean Weathers Presents: Vault of Terror (2013, Full Circle Filmworks)

...gotta admit, it's a pretty damn good idea. Getting one's independently produced stuff out there, for all to see, by wrapping around it, classic stuff that's much more familiar to the masses...perhaps even attempting to correlate a connection between the two, in some way, shape or form. But it seems that's exactly what we have here, with the under-the-radar and off-the-charts cult film collection, "Sean Weathers Presents: Vault of Terror". For those unfamiliar (...and as of recently, not so much, as far as this viewer), Sean Weathers is a micro-budget independent film producer & director, who since 1996, has specialized in underground feature films and shorts, with a flavored emphasis on gritty, urban-based exploitation, horror and erotica...while providing a reportedly underlining social commentary, where applicable. Regularly expounded upon, via a weekly podcast, are notable titles in his repertoire, such as "House of the Damned", "They All Must Die" and "The Trade-Off", amongst others; and amidst these broadcasts, he (...along with fellow filmmaking associate, Aswad Issa...both of whom spearhead film production, with their small, maverick company, Full Circle Filmworks) features classic independent and low-budget films of the past...for the most part, public domain properties...and provides insightful commentary & personal thoughts on these films, as well as how such films have inspired his own unique work...

Movie Review: The Face with Two Left Feet (1979, Code Red)

...ever bear witness to a movie...never mind if it proves good or bad (...let's face it...some films, like the one you are about to become privy of, are beyond such criticism)...from first frame to last, which has you so incredulously wide-eyed, mouth-gaped, constantly thinking, "...what the @#$%??" Whether you want to walk away or not, that you cannot turn away from it, because of the revelational unbelievability of what you are watching. And at the end, you catch yourself throwing your head back, slapping your forehead with the palm of your hand, rolling your eyes, and exclaiming, "...Jeez!!", a minute or two after the final credits roll...again, not necessarily because of whether the movie was good or bad, but because you just cannot grasp at the reasoning or the possibilities, as to why or how the film could have possibly come into existence, nor can you consider whether or not it deserves to exist. Your mind, gnawed and tortured, you unconsciously pick up the remote, push 'play' again, and engage the film a second time. And after all is said and done, you...uh, you throw up your hands, and sighingly resign yourself to actually liking the film; you're still not sure why or how you like it...or perhaps, you are embarrassed at the reasons for liking the film, but H-H-HAVE to admit liking it, nonetheless. If you can relate to any of this...you, my friends, are in the throes of what is, according to Hoyle, known as the 'guilty pleasure', or perhaps, as in the hapless case of this viewer, having recently embraced the obscure, though still irresistible, enjoyably ludicrous and hilariously wacky, grindhouse-styled, disco-themed comedy, 1979's "The Face with Two Left Feet", you have caught...'The Fever'...

Movie Review: Snuff (Blu-ray)

It's quite possible that I'm in a small minority, but at the oh-so tender age of eleven years-old I discovered a synopsis in the Encyclopedia of Horror Movies for Roberta and Michael Findlay's notorious Snuff --in of all places, the public library. Here is where the exploitatively sleazy allure of Snuff peaked my interest the most as it appeared to be one of the most shocking films ever produced with some absolutely golden taglines that include: "A film that could only be made in South America, where life is CHEAP!" or this one "The Bloodiest thing that ever happened in front of a camera!!!" and finally " The picture they said could NEVER be shown!".

Blue Underground debuted Snuff (Slaughter, American Cannibal) on DVD several years back in barebones fashion with some very interesting packaging that made the DVD look like they didn't put it out and someone else had taken it upon themselves to. Amazingly, Snuff is now on Blu-ray from the folks at Blue Underground. The companies’ name is now on the cover; it has a high-def upgrade and is loaded with some neato extra features that might add some explanation to the history of Snuff.