Friday, June 30, 2017

Tales From The Quadead Zone


I've been putting off the two Chester Novell Turner films for to long now, and now is as good a time as any to watch them and write about them. His initial effort, Black Devil Doll From Hell really is an S.O.V. flick from hell-scenes that go on for to long, mountains and mountains of padding, horribly strange Casio synth keyboard music and a religious woman that would rather bang a puppet that resembles Rick James than an actual man. But enough about that, I'm here to get on with Tales From The Quadead Zone. The production values are the lowest of the low, and you can still tell that Chester put his heart into this, especially since I think this is much more entertaining than his first flick. It's a homemade anthology horror film with three stories to keep it going. It only clocks in at about 62 minutes, but that's all the time you need with Quadead Zone. It starts off with the mother talking to the ghost of her son "Bobby" and he hands her a mug (well, it sort of floats up to the counter in the kitchen, but it's implied that his ghost is handing it to her) and you see the imprint in one of the chairs in the living room, giving the illusion that he has some physical weight to him. That's impressive considering what little Chester was working with. This wrap-around is accompanied by two really out-there stories that the mother reads to "Bobby", and the whole thing has a really off atmosphere that I can't really explain. You just have to experience it for yourself.

    These title cards are horrendous. 

I'm impressed. A ghost giving his mom a mug, blowing on her hair, sitting in a chair. It's all so real.

There's eight of you, and there's only food for four. Someone is going to die, aren't they.

  No one is upset that fatty just blew away three of their family members. Wow.

You're damn right that was a strange tale.

Looks like your brother is dead. Time to leave him alone.

Who wrote the score, a potato?

A champagne glass in the shape of a boob. Classy.

Yeah, Oscar. Let's get the fuck on up out of here.

Of course he's naked, he's dead. And why would you dress your dead brother up as a clown?!

He's already dead, you can't kill him!

When the credits for Tales From The Quadead Zone start rolling, it blatantly states that there will be a sequel. Or there was supposed to be, but unfortunately Chester never got around to it. I would have loved to have seen a sequel, but this weird triple-story anthology is all we have, and I am really grateful for it. The final act is actually more touching than you could ever expect, considering what takes place in the last 15-20 minutes and the whole film just makes a full circle. That's one of the things that makes me happy about Quadead Zone is that it wraps itself up quite nicely and actually leaves you wanting to watch more. But 62 minutes is all we have. Chester, let's meet up sometime. I want to get some coffee.    

Thursday, June 29, 2017

All Through The House


After all of this time, you zits and zombies should know that I really dig my Christmas horror flicks. My personal favorite that still hasn't been dethroned is the almighty Christmas Evil. I would rather watch that than Christmas Story or Christmas Vacation if I had the ultimate choice. But there's a new contender that I finally got around to watching last night called All Through The House-and this version of Santa is just fucking brutal. He doesn't care about anything except killing all of the hot chicks and douche-bag boyfriends he can possibly find. And these kills are gory as hell, especially the two scenes where random guys' dicks get lobbed off by Santa's hedge trimmers, or when the blonde at the beginning gets the blades shoved into both of her eyes at the same time. Merciless killing at it's finest. That leads me to one of this movie's flaws however-character development. There really isn't any. Most of the people that get sliced in here are just there and Santa has a jolly old time cutting them up. Which is fine, but I at least want some kind of small reason as to why these people are there. In any case, I really enjoyed All Through The House for what it is-a straight up visceral thrill ride of a Christmas slasher that pours on loads of gore and plenty of boobs.

Santa doesn't like naughty little boys.

Pretty Christmas lights.

I'm not racist, but why does her boyfriend have to be black? Are we all supposed to assume these days that all bigger girls date black men?

Wow, Santa is a brutal motherfucker!

Pour me a shot of that holiday whisky.

Ok-that wasn't a fucked up dream.

Well.... hoe, hoe hoe. I mean, ahem. This is a Christmas movie. Pull yourself together, man.

That's two, make it two severed penis' by way of Santa's hedge clippers. And the cat is eating it. Wow.

There's always deep rooted psychological issues when you have Christmas dinner with a female mannequin, a Santa statue and a teddy bear.

Damn, Kris Kringle is festive this year.

If you're looking for something different (and really bloody) this Christmas, try out All Through The House. Another positive thing I can say about this film is that the cinematography, lighting, use of color and production values are way higher than I expected them to be, and there are artifacts of the Christmas spirit in pretty much every scene. It gets you in the mood for some hot chocolate and some egg nog really quickly, and I kind of wanted to go thrifting to find some new decorations so that I could use them in November and December later this year. Thanks, evil Santa. Just don't lob off my penis. I need that for later.

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Alice Sweet Alice (VHS)


There isn't a religious bone in my body. But even I can be disturbed by a film that focus' itself on being totally anti-religious. On top of that structure, though, are just a collection of outlandishly bizarre characters that populate this world that Alice lives in. Her Aunt Annie is a complete Catholic Nazi and she gets what she deserves when the time comes later in the film. The landlord Mr. Alphonso has to be the creepiest, fattest cat-guy pedo I've ever had to endure, and he really tries to do things to Alice that no grown man should be doing to a 12 year old girl. He also gets what he deserves. Hoo-rah. The overall tone of Alice Sweet Alice is just pure evil, and has everything to do with going against straight Catholic beliefs, and that's completely ok with me. As the film progresses and people get murdered in and around the church, you can just feel the dread and the atmosphere surrounding you, making you wanting to get the hell out of there and hide under your binky in your bedroom. It oozes out of your t.v. screen and your VCR (or dvd player or whatever print you happen to watch) leaving you wondering if the Lord really does exist, why would he allow people to get stabbed in his house, in front of his congregation? He does love us so, right? Get out of here with that non-sense. 

 You know why a priest would want to see a little girl. Oh wait-that's for little boys. Nevermind.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

That looks like the mask from Sledgehammer. It's creepier here though.

   Holy shit, bro. Lose some weight. And start with not eating the cat food anymore.

 Where's Alice? She's doing the right thing by not attending your brainwashing sessions 2-3 times a week.

'Burning Catholic Corpses'. That would be a great death metal song or band name.

Who gives a shit if mass starts at 9, your niece was just murdered. Religious people, man.

I can't wait for Alice to stab Annie. I really can't wait for it.

This 400lb pedo-cat guy is way more disturbing than Alice could ever be.

Alice Sweet Alice is another great example to me of why religion just needs to be abolished all together. It twists people into shells of who they're supposed to be, and it's all about manipulation. The relationship between Alice and her Aunt Annie in this film is all to real for some people, and it's a plague on humanity that just needs to end already. This film has a very good whodunit framework built into it as even after you have made it to the end, you still don't fully know if Alice really is the killer or not. The writing and the plot sucks you into this really horrible life and world that Alice and her sister Karen have to be a part of, whether they like it or not, and the viewer really gets to feel the depression and the hurt that the sisters have to absorb that made them who they are. Zits and zombies, partake in this communion only if you are in the mood for a serious slasher flick that will leave you wanting to come back for multiple viewings. Corpus Christi.   

Monday, June 19, 2017

Prison of the Dead (VHS)


About a year or two ago, a thrift store by my house went under by the name of Unique. My wife and I had only went in there while it was still open a couple of times, and one of those times we dragged our feet in there, she randomly found Phantasm IV: Oblivion on VHS and walked up to me and asked "do you know what this is, babe?" She handed me the tape. I asked in shock "where the hell did you find this?!" and I followed her around the corner where the rest of the VHS tapes were hiding. Besides said Phantasm tape, I also purchased Prison of the Dead, Dean Koontz's Black River, It's Alive III: Island of the Alive and Campfire Tales all on VHS for a quarter a piece that day. I have since watched all of them but one. Until I popped Prison of the Dead in my VCR earlier today. I kept asking myself "why doesn't Full Moon just stick with their flagship properties like Puppet Master or Killjoy?" as the tape kept on rolling with trailers for other films from them including Side Show and Witchouse II: Blood Coven. Those two flicks actually look really cool. I need to check them out when I can. Once Prison of the Dead started, I would have rather went to prison than watch this probably ever again. It was just trying way to hard to be a paranormal film with these jackass teens messing with a Ouija board in a medieval prison after hosting a fake funeral as a fucking joke. The three executioners that were buried there come to life and start snuffing out these nimrods while they simultaneously get possessed by some really bad booger-CGI ghost entity thingy. Dumb and dumb.

Blah, blah, blah.... just get to the funeral already.

I'm going to guess that your cell phone is one of those 90's pocket bricks.

You don't have to tell me twice that jocks are fucking losers.

Sounds like someone's a little jelly.

"I can't remember. I blame the nutra-sweet."

Don't you think you would have figured out something was off about this guy's funeral because you were the only ones there and it was being held in a medieval prison instead of a fucking funeral home?!

A Ouija board. Nope.

Zombies have never been equipped with axes, maces and chainmail.

Scene recycling? Alright. It's Full Moon. All is forgiven.

 "All we need are some flashlights and cameras. I have a zippo."

 "You can sit here and yank on your Ouija while we split."

I really ended up being let down by my heroes on this one as Full Moon can do so much better than what's offered here in Prison of the Dead. The characters are way to predictable and stereotypical, all of the kills are off screen, there's barely any blood, no boobs and an ending that just made me kind of both smile and cringe in one weird facial expression that I think I invented once this was finally over. This is certainly one of their more uninspired and weaker works when sitting next to the likes of Trancers or Dollman, as they are extremely fun and engaging in spite of just how horrible they really are. Prison of the Dead falls flat on it's face, and once it started yelling "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!" in that signature Steve Urkel tambre, I simply walked away as if I never heard such a thing. As a cult horror freak, take my advice zits and zombies. When the moon is full, watch Blade and Pinhead instead of some idiotic teens playing with a Ouija board only to get killed by un-dead executioners in a medieval prison. Ah yessss-saaaaa. 

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Silent Night Deadly Night IV: Initiation


In my last post about SNDN III, I touched on my enthusiasm about what I expected from the fourth film because of the cast and crew. Brian Yuzna's directing skills are definitely present here in the fourth installment, but still this film has absolutely nothing to do with any of the past lore or a fucking killer Santa Clause. This one just walks even further away from being anything to do with a Christmas horror flick, and has everything to do with witches, nasty ass bugs, hints of lesbianism and feminism and even a rape scene towards the end that has Clint Howard with his shirt off wearing a mask similar to Chris Fehn from Slipknot. And if that wasn't just outright bizarre on it's own merits, there are plenty of body horror scenes (that's mostly the type of horror Yuzna directs) involving some of the biggest and most grotesque insects I've probably ever wanted to see in any film of any kind. I almost vomited a couple of times because bugs just freak me the fuck out. Goddamned disgusting. In reality, the Silent Night Deadly Night name was probably just tacked on at the end as a marketing ploy to get people to buy this or watch it, but after the crappy trappings of the last two sequels, why would anyone even bother? Probably for the same reason I have so far-to see if the series ever returns to it's roots of having a serial killer/rapist Santa ruining people's lives. So far, I'm still extremely grossed out and disappointed. 

A burger with bugs and a burning bitch. This intro will wake you up!

Watching porn and banging your girl? My kind of lunch break!

Reggie, where have you been bro? Give me some mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone while you're at it.

I know you're a butcher, but at least wash your hands before you eat something. Please.

So far, I'm wondering what the hell any of this has to do with Billy, Ricky or a killer Santa Clause.

To many bugs. Just to damn many.

Prove it. Prove that that shit is real.

Holy shit! A radroach?!

I'm sure there's something wrong with that tea.

Ooooooooookkaayyyy.... I don't want to live anymore.

Out of the whole series, I don't know which to choose as being the worst sequel so far. This film should have just been titled Initiation or Bug Puke or something like that because the main focus of this film isn't what it's supposed to be. It's about a female cult that thrives on ridding society of men altogether by conducting this insane ritual where they lure random women in, put some black ash shit on their forehead, chant some Book of the Dead business and have some slug looking thing crawl into their belly button. Yeah. Tell me about it. I will probably never watch this ever again as long as I live. The only positive things I can say about Silent Night Deadly Night 4: Initiation is that Brian Yuzna's body horror directing style is all still here, with some of the scenes even feeling and looking like it could have been part of a film of his that I enjoy waaaaaaayyy more than this by the name of Society. Also, Screaming Mad George's practical special effects are top notch per usual as all the insects herein are exceptionally nauseating to the eye, which I'm sure is what they were both going for. As a stand alone body horror flick, this is a solid piece. But as part of a series that's supposed to embody a killer Santa slaying (hah) people, it's trash. Only for the hardcore fans. Ho ho ho.    

Monday, June 12, 2017

SIlent Night Deadly Night III: Better Watch Out!


The title for this entry in the Silent Night Deadly Night franchise is both highly appropriate and disappointing at the same time. The original film is a Christmas slasher classic revered by pretty much all horror freaks alike, while the sequel is completely abysmal-being comprised of 85% clips and scenes from the first just to tell a different angle of the same story, and the other 15% mainly focusing on a killing rampage including an infamous scene that everyone has ran across on Youtube randomly in the past 10 years or so. You know, garbage day?? I was personally hoping that this third entry would bring the series back to it's original form, but unfortunately it didn't. It kind of makes me not want to even bother with parts IV and V, but since the cast and crew for part IV ups the ante way higher than it should with Clint Howard and Reggie Bannister being main characters, Brian Yuzna being the director and Screaming Mad George having his hand dipped into the special effects; I'm fully expecting the sequel after this to be phenomenally entertaining. Part III kills my spirit for Christmas horror mainly because it's just a damn snoozer. I actually couldn't make it to the end without falling asleep. Bill Moseley "acting" in this didn't really do much, especially since he just stumbled around this whole film in a hospital gown and a red jello mold shaped like a brain on top of his head the whole fucking time. Ugh. Fucking waste of the man's talents. 

Run Laura, run!

I don't think asking Santa for help in this situation is a very good idea.

Rapist Santa. At it again.

What the-is that Gene Simmons with a baby?!

     80's metal guy... right in the nick of time.

This assclown is the original bad Santa. Fuck Billy Bob Thornton.

 Knew it... someone was going to get stabbed with the letter opener.

Damn Laura is mean spirited. I like it.

My name is Greg. I always make the chicks' panties wet.

 It's imperative that I get a sick-ass tape deck like that. Goodwill, here I come!

Granny be dead.

I feel like Silent Night Deadly Night Part III: Better Watch Out! is just an atrocious sequel. It does absolutely nothing for the lore of the original (the second one really didn't either) and the whole thing with Laura being telepathically connected to Ricky was utterly lame and I felt like it was just a total rip-off of the same idea from my favorite Jason flick; Friday The 13th part VII: The New Blood. Really, for now I'm going to suggest to you zits and zombies to watch the original or the re-boot until I watch part IV. The standards are high for that one. I guess Bill Moseley needed some cash at the time. We all whore ourselves out to get paid at one point or another in our lives. Hell, I worked at McDonald's for four years. That was enough.  

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Splatter University


Categorically, Splatter University is supposed to be lumped into the slasher realm. But what this film really is is an un-intentional horror comedy. The production values are pretty much on the same level as The Last Slumber Party where acting, dialogue and clean editing don't mean a damn thing. That's actually what makes this type of atrocity fun is knowing that it's a heap of garbage, and yet everyone can still have fun with it. Some caramel popcorn, weed, beer and pizza are a must when viewing Splatter University, and it would be perfect to play on a huge outdoor projection screen at your high school reunion just to remind everyone why they hated you in the first place twenty years ago. The kills are quick and out of place, all of the characters are loathsome degenerates (except Denise-what a killer 80's red-head) the plot is paper thin, and the twist ending really didn't even come close to being shocking or satisfying. But that's not why you zits and zombies watch films like Splatter University. You watch them to see dumb people get killed and hot chicks take their tops off. I really dug this because it doesn't take itself seriously at all, and sometimes we all need to laugh at ourselves to survive. 

The second floor is one hell of a place.

How tall is that cop? 9 feet??

Sweet Jesus, stabbed in the dick!

"The next semester.... yesterday." What does that even mean?

Weakest boner gesture ever.

Shut up with the howling already. You're annoying, Wolf.

That's one hoppin' fe-mullet. I want to get lost in it.

What a surprise. A close minded priest.

"There's a fingernail in my pie."

Silly white guy dance. That's me tearing it up.

How many times are we going to hear this beach/surf song?

You're less than a foot away from your girlfriend and you can't even tell that her throat was slit?! Get some glasses, man!

 Really now, Splatter University is a fun time because of how 80's and trashy it is. It has a gritty, grind-housey layer to it that adds to the charm of just how lame and enjoyable this film truly is. If you can make it to the end of films like Things, Sledgehammer, The Last Slumber Party, Killer Workout or just about anything towards the bottom of the horror well, then you can make it to then end of this. And you will laugh in it's face because these movies amuse you. Well, me anyway. I would recommend this to any zit or zombie that needs a pick-me-up from a hard day at work because there's always worse things out there. I should've finished college. Missed my chance.      

Pool Party Massacre (blu-ray)


There was no choice left for me but to jump on the indie horror bandwagon when it came to the eventual release of Pool Party Massacre. I ran across the trailer for it one night on Youtube (where else does anyone find this type of shit anymore?) and I immediately had to find out where to watch it or buy a copy. With my Google wizardry and b-movie huffing nose, I finally ran across the store front for the film, which is hosted by Floating Eye Films. They have all kinds of insane merch centered around this film including action figures, beer koozies and t-shirts. But what I ended up purchasing was an autographed blu-ray, signed by all the girls and the director. Very fucking cool. What's also cool is the 8-bit introduction to Pool Party Massacre automatically let's you know that it's a throw-back slasher that's going to scratch every 80's horror itch any fanatic could've possibly ever had. Yes, it does have massacre in the title. Yes, I've watched a lot of downright shitty films so far this year with that word in the title card. That doesn't mean this is a dud though. Pool Party Massacre delivers on all accounts. Plenty of gore, plenty of kills, plenty of boobs and plenty of alcohol. It does drag a little here and there, but for the most part the pace is pretty quick and the comedy is just on top leaving any zit or zombie laughing on the floor while someone is getting an axe to the head. 80's horror rules.        

The money you must need to build an in-ground grotto type pool.

Helllllllllloooooooo sexy brunette skeleton.

He's not about to get filthy. You're about to get sliced.

Blair's parents are hilariously overacted.

  That romper is as hideous as you are.

If I was into anorexic red-headed bitches, I would totally have a stiffy right now. But I'm not. What a waste.

"Get those lips around that rich dick, and hold on tight!"

Hammer claw through the chin!

"Necrophilia is a dying art." 

Damn, those are...some.....nice........booooooooooobbssss........... (drools on floor)

Is Clay wearing Where's Waldo underwear?! That's classic!

 Of course this film wouldn't be complete without some vigorous fapping.

Honestly zits and zombies, I can't say enough about how great Pool Party Massacre is. My favorite angle of it all is the cinematography is extremely clean and crisp, and it has a final act that you just don't see coming. Really. I wasn't expecting it. Let's put it this way-you come for the boobs and blood, but you leave knowing you just watched a solid horror flick that should have been put out in 1986 when it actually came out just a month ago. Nutso. If you're at all interested, check out the trailer on Youtube and buy the dvd or blu-ray. I would say you could get it on VHS as well, but the online store is sold out at the moment so I would just go blu. The picture is clean enough with no damage what-so-ever (why would there be, this was filmed with digital cameras) and you can really see all the ladies in flawless detail as well as all of the kills up close, drenched in blood. A pizza guy also gets gutted for our enjoyment as well. Before I attend the next pool party, I need to do some belly flops to get back into shape. I'm starting to look like Free Willy here.  

The Neon Demon


One of my favorite non-horror films of recent years is Drive starring Ryan Gosling. I had heard positive things about it on Youtube from Cecil of GoodBadFlicks, and then turned in a blind buy at Best Buy about a year or so ago on blu-ray. Haven't regretted it since. It starring redhead goddess Christina Hendricks doesn't hurt anything either. She also has a cameo role in The Neon Demon as Roberta Hoffman. When I found out that this film was written by Nicolas Winding Refn (who also was involved in Drive as the director) I had to bend over backwards to try to make extra time to take some notes. The Neon Demon is very similar in tone and pace against Starry Eyes, which is absolutely a good thing. They are both extremely different however, as instead of being focused on Hollywood and the film business, this one primarily sets itself inside the catty, bitchy world of the fashion industry and the skeletor models that inhabit it. You have to have a certain weight, look, and empty attitude. Being ridiculously stuck-up and self-centered always helps getting in on that line of work as The Neon Demon promotes the fact that women that can't act like that just won't survive. There are a lot of other theme's below the surface here as well, and most of them are actually presented metaphorically in actual physical form in the film making for some strange scenes and acting/dialogue choices, but it all works to portray the fact that modeling is just as cruel a profession as anything else can be if the work culture ends up melding itself that way. 

Dead already huh...

Wouldn't taking a shower be easier?

  It's always party time.

There's to many bony bitches. Where's Christina Hendricks?

    Stop it. This red light is giving me a fucking headache.

Pavlov rang my bell.

 City skylines are always personal and romantic.

A lioness breaking into your hotel room. That's new.

This jackass is a pro at making Jesse feel way to uncomfortable.

All that glitters is gold.

Room full of skeletons.

Oh well you ugly bitch. Time to get a real job.

I'm not sure about the make-up either, but you look like Pennywise's coked out sister.

  To be fair, I really don't have anything to complain about when it comes to The Neon Demon. I liked it more than I expected. I thought I would like it just based on the fact that Nicolas Winding Refn was involved, but it's style, colors, camera work and overall structure far surpassed such a superficial fan-boy mind set. There is a lot to take in with this film, and you even have Keanu Reeves playing Jesse's dickard of a landlord at the motel she's living in in the film, which also adds a small layer of enjoyment and confusion at the same time. If you watched Starry Eyes and became a fan of that, give The Neon Demon a spin. It's basically the same idea just executed much differently, and it's fashion instead of film. I'm late to pose for these Calvin Klein tightie-whitie ads. Ciao.       

Monday, May 1, 2017

Farmhouse


Sometimes I love surprises. They keep you on your feet so you don't get lazy or complacent. And that's the exact way that I would describe the structure of this hidden indie gem to any zit or zombie that was interested. Farmhouse has twists and turns that you don't expect because it leaves the audience in the dark on purpose. It wants you to work for the story. It wants you to feel and experience the pain that the characters go through so you can figure out just what the hell is going on here. Farmhouse wants the viewer to believe that what is happening is actually happening, but you need to dig deeper to come to your senses and realize that there is a toll to be paid. Everything begets everything, and you just have to pay attention. You have no choice. There is an investment to be made and a judgement to be cast. Honestly, the first time I watched Farmhouse after I bought the dvd I thought this was just some shitty Saw knock-off. No, no, no. There's much more to be had here than just that. Even the Saw franchise has it's layers and corridors to wade through, but this... this film has much more to it's overall meaning than just some guy capturing people and having them choose to live or die to learn a lesson about their own personal lives. This is redemption. This is payback. This is what you experience after passing on.

    A cross won't help you. A gun and a bullet will do the trick.

Go away you old pedo guy-man person.

Moving is tough. I've done it a lot in my lifetime.

A 20 hour drive? Stop and get some rest sir.

At this point, flip phones aren't relevant anymore.

Steven Webber is class A, brother!

 Nothing beats a little simplicity sometimes.

 "May the best day of your past be the worst day of your future."

Owning and maintaining your own wine vineyard would be badass.

Voyeurism. You perverted bastard.

This is where the sick fun starts.

I've already hinted at this earlier, but nothing in this film makes any sense until you start trying to piece everything together yourself. That's why Farmhouse works beautifully as a masterpiece of indie horror cinema. It keeps you guessing all the way until the car accident towards the beginning flips itself into something else that you just didn't see coming. A quick nit-pick about the dvd itself is that if you watch it on a blu-ray player to try to upscale it, the resolution of the transfer in some spots is sort of grainy and pixelated around objects and darker lines. Other than that there is a cool behind the scenes featurette and a few other little things on the disc to round it out. If I sat here and made a top 10 favorite indie horror flicks, Farmhouse would have to be somewhere between 3 and 1. Seriously. Check it out. Everyone has to pay up sometime.   

Friday, April 28, 2017

House


I've always aspired to be some sort of a writer. That's where putting this blog together comes in. Even though I never would have thought that my main focus would be horror films, collecting them or even "reviewing" them (I still don't consider these things reviews) working on this Cinema Slayer blog has really been a positive outlet for me, even though none of you deadbeats probably give two shits anyway. The reason I'm mentioning this in any capacity at all is because our main guy in House, Roger Cobb moves into a house that his aunt believed was haunted while she was alive. He needs his solitude to work on his new book pertaining to his experiences being involved in the Vietnam war, and of course while he's living there, monsters and weirdos start trying to grab at him from out of his closet and other insane happenings. The practical effects in this film are second to none, and when Big Ben comes back towards the end to exact his revenge on Roger for letting him die in the war, he's the coolest most detailed looking zombie I've ever seen. Seriously. I think that might be where Slayer got their dead solider design from for some of their t-shirts. Compare the two. You'll see what I mean.

    Victorian houses are the shit.

Grocery delivery boys don't get paid very well.

Sick art is the best art.

Rabid book fans... every community has bottom feeders.

What an inheritance.

This real estate agent has got some nerve shooting a harpoon at a potential buyer.

Living in a house that huge by myself would creep me the fuck out.

"You wanna go where everybody knows your name..."

War is hell, and then you blast charlie in a rice patty!

Literally a monster in the closet-now that's great stuff!

Harold really wants to put that sausage in his mouth.

Shit Roger... you've really done it this time.

If you've never seen House, at first viewing you're going to think that this is some type of shitty paranormal flick with no substance and no character. You would be sorely mistaken. House has everything going for it, and now that there is a complete blu-ray set with all of them, now is the time to experience them. I don't even have a copy of it, but it's on my list. If I had to choose between watching all four of these films or watching the show House with Hugh Laurie, I'm picking this. Mainly because it's horror and the t.v. show is dumb. Yeah, I said it. House the t.v. show is dumb. Stop crying, we all have our own opinions.      

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Hellraiser: Hellseeker (blu-ray)


As a franchise, Hellraiser in general is just legendary. As a horror icon, Pinhead kicks so much evil ass that Satan probably won't even touch him. This series has some similar potholes such as going into space and young'ins getting roped into a community of gamers that play a really shitty online pc game named Hellworld. But those are just side films that are fun to watch if your really in the mood for them, but Hellraiser: Hellseeker really blew me away. Last night was the first time I had a chance to watch this (I've had the blu-ray for quite awhile, and I've just never popped it in) and the first half of the film is just absolutely confusing. I was about ready to chalk this up as being the worst sequel in the franchise until Pinhead finally shows up and starts straightening things out in the story. Up until this point, everything was pointing towards a disjointed mess of memories and events that Trevor (or the audience) really can't make heads or tails out of. This is the part where you see what Kirsty did with Pinhead to twist the story before anything in the film even happens, and this reveal made me a fan of this part of the series immediately. 

Learn to drive, assclown.

F this noise, I'm terrified of drowning.

Talk about Brain Salad Surgery.

That music is never loud enough.

   Mind your own business you scummy bastard.

 Fucked up vending machines, flickering lights, sexually aggressive women-what the hell kind of an office is this?

Don't try swallowing an eel whole next time. You're not talented enough for that.

Huh. So sex and violence do go together.

Pinhead is definitely the grand master of acupuncture.

Sexiest cup of sugar that any neighbor has ever asked for.

Trevor, you don't want that box.

Pain or pleasure, sir? How about potato chips.

 Out of all of the Hellraiser sequels (that I've watched anyway) Hellraiser: Hellseeker really raised the bar for me in terms of a franchise being stretched to thin before no one cares anymore. Sometimes it only takes maybe the third film before things turn sour, but this is the sixth film in this series and I felt like this should have been number four. Forget when Pinhead goes into space or sets people up in Saw-like traps. This is the sequel that the diehards need to see. It reveals more about the main girl Kirsty, and what she does to get back at her husband for being a selfish prick. Like I stated earlier zits and zombies-when the twist comes, you never even see it because the film makes you think this is what's happening when the real plot is just around the corner. Just make sure you have a flashlight and be prepared to choose between pain or pleasure. Or get a bag of chips from the vending machine. Either way, you have to atone for what you've done.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

The Windmill


I can't believe that I almost forgot that I had a set of notes for The Windmill just waiting to be processed into a post for you guys here. Technically, this film is supposed be be a part of the ever growing ocean of horror flicks that has the word "massacre" accompanying it, but I'm glad it was dropped for the sake of simplicity and avoiding being pigeon-holed. Now at first glance of the cover art, this conjures up feelings of not wanting to bother. It just looks so generic and flat. And The Windmill starts off pretty promising with building itself up into something that seems like it's going to be a unique indie film with it's own taste... until it starts riddling itself with horror cliches' when the tour bus all of a sudden won't start after Jennifer thinks she sees some guy in the middle of the path they are driving on and makes a ruckus so as the driver won't hit him. Man, that was a mouthful. The only positive thing I can really say about The Windmill is that the kills are really cool and surprisingly gory compared to what I expected, but this just ended up being another sluggish modern slasher that I really just tossed into the okay category when the credits started rolling.  

Light that shit up!

I had a babysitter named Julie when I was growing up.

No worries dude. I'm not a good artist either.

That red light district, though.

Schizo?

Everyone looks so thrilled to be on this tour of Holland.

I can't wait to see what other horror cliches' are stuffed into this mess of a stromboli.

   Oh, no! A ghostly windmill! Whatever will we do??

Head-stomp right in the middle of the forest. I'm not even mad, I'm impressed.

You ain't goin' no wheas....

Time to see your grandma, kid. With an off-screen kill.

What a wuss. You puked.

 This has been getting a lot of praise, and to it's credit I respect that. But, it wasn't for me. The Windmill just didn't get me riled up enough to care about any of the characters or what was going to happen to them later on. The plot felt all over the place, and the climax had sort of a "let's get this finished" feel to it that turned me off towards the end. I know, zits and zombies-the tour of Holland was a ploy to get random people to end up at the windmill so it can kill everyone. The bus driver wasn't even really all that creepy. He was just some fat, smelly bastard that hadn't shaved in five days and needed to buy a new bottle of Axe shower gel. Hell, they might not even have that over there. Besides some fantastic cinematography with the open landscape, some really cool windmills and some gory kills, there really isn't anything new or groundbreaking to witness here. Horror purgatory it is. 

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

The Girl on the Train


My wife and I are always suggesting movies and t.v. shows to one another that we are discovering while the other one is off at work or something. She recently told me about The Girl on the Train a couple of weeks ago, and I finally got around to watching it on Kodi so I could take some notes. It didn't sound like horror-it sounded more like some kind of drama-thriller type thing, which isn't normally what I go looking for or what I would normally want to jot some shit down about for you zits and zombies here on Cinema Slayer, but it's good to change things up once in a while. I also found out that it's based on a novel as well, which always intrigues me because the film version of a book is usually pretty different. The Girl on the Train is basically this insane web that's woven between three women-Rachel, Megan and Anna. They are all connected to each other, mainly because one douche-bag can't keep it in his pants for lack of a better phrase. I really can't expunge to many details because it will just ruin the frailty of experiencing this film-all I can say is that I was pretty blown away by the story, characters, and just how everything plays out. Great stuff if you're in the mood to put your nose in someone's business that it shouldn't be. 

She became important to you because of the wretches of daily routine.

Dude looks like Heath Ledger.

Stop living in that bottle.

I would love to just live off the grid.

  These chicks are just falling apart more and more everyday.

Laura Prepon? Hell yeah!

Damn, that's a gorgeous house.

Alcohol always brings people to the darkest places.

It's not adding up, Rachel.

Gettin' some wood in the woods. Classy.

I dated a nympho once. It's not as fucking fun as you think it is.

Cops always need evidence. Just evidence.

Wow... that's a tragically powerful way to lose a baby.

The Girl on the Train ultimately ends up being one of those very well written and produced thriller flicks that suck you in right at the beginning, and won't spit you out until the curtains close at the credits. You get addicted to wanting to know what's going to happen next or where the story is going to take these people, and you want to be in that side car along with them-experiencing every tear, every drunken stupor and every lie that gets told. A rarity lies in this (at least for me) where you actually want there to be a sequel. But you know what? This was so well sewn up that if there is a sequel, I probably won't watch it. There's nowhere else for these three women to go. So do yourself a favor and buy a ticket for the next ride on this train... it's a tragic yet satisfying experience.   

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Friday The 13th Part III: 3-D


There's an overabundance of 80's horror films and franchises, but one of my personal favorite series' is most assuredly the Friday The 13th franchise. The original four at the beginning are slasher cornerstones, and five through eight bring Jason right back for some highly entertaining (if stupid) killing time that hardcore fans of the series always just salivate over. Back when I first started this journey here on Cinema Slayer, I wrote a post about my personal favorite in the series, which still stands as Friday The 13th Part VII: The New Blood. Mainly because in that film, main girl Tina finds out when she's young that she possesses some telekinetic powers that enable her to manipulate the environment around her just by thinking about what she wants to do or move or what have you, and it ends up being one shitty bad time for Jason. He gets burned, nails stabbed in his face and all kinds of other craziness due to Tina just wanting his ass dead. My second favorite in the franchise has always been part III. Really, I don't have any real explanation why. It sort of just segues the viewer into part IV because all you want to happen is just to have these people die. Especially Shelly. He's fat, annoying, and has a horrible self-esteem problem. Hell, so do I, but it's nowhere near as bad as this guy. Maybe I really enjoy Friday The 13th Part III: 3-D because this is when Jason finally levels up into icon status. This is the film where he finally gets the hockey mask. Forget that crappy burlap sack with one eye hole. It's time to kill-kill-kill, die-die-die.

Jason always listens to mother.

He should be dead...right?

Aww, shut up. And take out those hair rollers. You look like a pissed off ferret.

Who are you, Jason? The Shape?! Do your own thing, man!

Eating yourself out of business. Now that's hysterical.

Dumping and drinking. I think you forgot to wipe, bro.

The van's not on fire, you just have Cheech and Chong in the back.

   I want a van with blue shag carpet on the inside of all of the doors.

What a sick joke. You fat fuck.

Men who juggle don't get laid. Sorry boss.

 I've sat down with an ice cold beer and watched Friday The 13th Part III: 3-D many times, but you know what-I've never bothered to try it in actual 3-D. Missed opportunity. Next time I give it a spin, I'll put those red and blue glasses on and see what it's all about. I don't really know how much better watching a three-piece biker gang and a bunch of dumb teens getting killed by Jason in 3-D really is going to be, but it's not if it's good or not... it's if you have a good time. That's what those novelty ideas are all about. Adding to the experience of having a good time. And I think now that's what Friday The 13th Part III: 3-D is actually about-just sitting down, watching people getting slaughtered and having a good time. Make that into a drinking game. Every time I've written "having a good time" in this post (including just now) take a shot. And go watch Shelly get destroyed by Jason as he transforms into a horror icon. What a sacrifice that he made. Thank you Shelly for giving Jason his iconic hockey mask. He is forever in your debt. You fat, juggling loser.  

Monday, April 10, 2017

Greetings


The very first thing I want to do when I look at my notes for Greetings is to just cry. Just, you know... ball my eyes out for twenty minutes. Get all of my self-hate, self-loathing, and all of my insecurities out. Just get everything out in the open. Because I need to make all the extra space in the whole wide world between my lungs and what's left of my heart to fill it with the greenest, darkest, most putridly vile anger that I can possibly concoct to stain the "reputation" that this film has (if it even has one) to the point of making Brain Damage Films go out of business. That's right. This is one of those flicks where I wondered how it even made it past the writing process. Hell, even the idea process. Here it is, zits and zombies-nothing in this film works. It's broken. It's so goddamn lame that I'd rather start going back to church again than ever having to think about this Euro-trash for the rest of my pathetic life. Literally 95% of this film is a bunch of British nit-wits sitting in someone's living room blabbing on and on and on and on about whatever the fuck they want to. They drink ass-loads of wine and coffee, see a floating upside down table... and then I proceeded to drown myself in a glass vat of hydrochloric acid. 

A little bubbly for the birthday.

What a cheesy ass speech. Get out of here.

Brits do love the smell of fresh paint, yeah? I mean, they watch it dry on t.v. for Satan's sake.

This is seriously the most boring birthday party I've ever seen. Falling down the stairs and spraining my ankle is more exciting than this shit.

Damn bro, wanna get hammered?

Oujia isn't supposed to work with a fucking wine glass. Wow.

Somebody just said they thought a window was open! Jesus Christ.

What broke into the house?! A chicken??

Yeah-spraying Febreeze is going to help out so much.

In all seriousness, the first 50-60 minutes of this "movie" (it's 71 in total by the way) is all of the main characters sitting around in some blonde bitch's living room talking about nothing and getting shit-faced off wine. That is it. Nothing fucking happens. On and off, the guys that are there play this really crappy version of Oujia with a wine glass and some flat piece of rusted metal, and then a table in the living room is all of a sudden floating upside down. Then more talking for the rest of eternity until some magical white light starts killing people. And that's all there is to it. I'm going to leave you zits and zombies with this-putting my hairy ball-sack into my wife's Nightmare Before Christmas themed nutcracker and pushing the tab on the back as hard as I possibly can down on my nuts and going to the ER would be more fun than fucking watching Greetings ever again. If you want to watch a good birthday horror flick, go find Bloody Birthday or Happy Birthday To Me. At least then you could have your cake and eat it too.
 

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Blonde Death (Bleeding Skull! dvd)


Every individual out there gets angry or has pent up aggression about something. Every family unit has issues to a certain extent. James Dillinger was "the angriest gay man in the world" and the only way he could express himself was through the art of film. Blonde Death goes all over the place trying to show it's true colors to the rest of the world, and I have to say-it does one helluva great job. This film is foaming at the brim with sexual tension (gay and straight), energetic teenage hormones, religious fanaticism, alcoholism, guns, escaped convicts... seriously. The events that take place in Tammy's life before the end of this film had the eyes in my head spinning like a dreidel on Hanukkah. The drama and close to life feel of everything that happens to these characters in Blonde Death made me almost feel like I couldn't even keep up with what was happening. The way that Link and Tammy end up together when everything is said and done is just a little too real. And a tad bit sad. When you look at this film through a microscope, it really is just a messed up situation of a really attractive young blonde woman that wants to live her life the way she wants without an over-bearing religious step-mother and her always drunken father being selfish assholes trying to control her. Tammy is just looking for a way out, and then she ends up falling in love with this guy named Link. Who just escaped from prison. They have lots of sex. Link's prison buddy wants to bang him in the ass (literally) in Tammy's living room. Tammy wants to shoot herself on the beach. They stop her. I can't spoil anything else for you, but the build-up to the end is astronomical and you really just have to pick up a copy of Blonde Death for yourself.  

Hot, tired and cranky. All females feel all of those together at some point. And so do we.

Who knew that there was an SOV version of Dabney Coleman.

 I don't think Jesus loves a bitch like you.

"Nice girls fuck. F-U-C-K fuck!"

Capital punishment. While listening to shitty Jesus music. Religion makes me want to kill people.

Sounds like dad's a little fruity if he's dressing up like Scarlett O'Hara.

 Spending the summer with Christ sounds like a fucking horrible waste of nine weeks.

I never knew lesbians could be so aggressive.

Hot, baby oil hand-jobs. Hmm. I need one of those.

Does it matter, bro? She wants the D.

It's always a party when domestic violence makes an appearance.

     I've watched and digested a lot of SOV films (horror or not) in the last batch of however many years now, and I'll just say this zits and zombies-Blonde Death gets my personal stamp for being the most coherent and best constructed. Yes, it's still a barely known piece of art, yes it's pretty underground and yes, most film buffs are either going to bypass it as "80's trash" or dismiss it as "amateur hour"... but that will never detract it from what it really is. A slice of James Dillinger expressing himself through the art of film. Really, Blonde Death is just a sad story of a young woman named Tammy that never had a real chance at living her life after the prime age of 18 because she ended up having a really horrible home life. I pretty much know nothing about James, but I'm guessing that this film was his mirror in a way to deflect some things in his life that he would have rather not have dealt with when he was alive. I'm sorry things had to end this way. But sometimes life gives you lemons that you can't make into lemonade. And when there's nothing left to drink, delirium takes you on a wrong turn. Thank you, James. Too bad you'll never be able to see this.     

Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Spaced Invaders (VHS)


We never realize it until we've already committed a wrongful action. But life is full of regret sometimes, and leaving the VHS of Spaced Invaders sitting on my shelf for almost two years without watching it was a harsh crime that I had stacked against myself. I can't believe that I had such a great time sitting there just waiting for me to slide it on into my VCR. I can't even begin to tell you zits and zombies how blown away I was at how silly and incredibly energetic this film is. Spaced Invaders was released in 1990, but it could have easily been set out to land here on earth sometime between 1987-1989, and the film wouldn't even had come close to an identity crisis. Everything contained herein works so well for this film, especially the special effects and animatronics. The robotics employed for the aliens is just downright superb, and lends itself to being super cheesy while still making it feel like the aliens actually are there in front of everyone that's trying to run them off of earth. In addition to that mountain, the acting, script and characters seriously came straight out of a cartoon, and the slapstick just plows right through all the way to the end to create one of the most entertaining cult comedy sci-fi films that I've watched in a very long time. I was lucky with this one because it was a total blind buy-the cover and the screen shots on the back of the box sold me almost immediately. 

Inspired by Star Wars, dildo shaped starships!

Mr. Handy?! What the hell?

Big Bean, Illinois? There's no such town. I live here dammit.

Hardest working cop in Illinois. Sitting on a bench drinking some Coca-Cola.

  Starship goes boom!!!

What costume is she wearing? She looks like Ihsahn from the black metal band Emperor.

  Churches don't support Halloween. It's the devil to them.

You gotta have some balls to ask your wife if she's dead yet. Sheeeesh.

I used to eat dog treats. When I was 2.

"Well kids. 3-D glasses and driving don't mix."

  Ok, now I'm adding a world domination kit to my list of "things I need to rid society" with.

 The quick wit and speedy pace of Spaced Invaders adds up to being one helluva fun sci-fi comedy flick. I was honestly smiling and chuckling through the entire film once I started to realize that this isn't your average recipe of "silly aliens trying to take over the world". No, no, no. These boys know how to liven things up. Especially since when they crash land, it's smack dab in the middle of Halloween. Couldn't have been any more perfect. My final squeeze from this hearty cyst stands that this turned out to be one of the most rambunctious, over-the-top, over exaggerated early 90's films that I've watched in a long time. The body of Spaced Invaders encapsulates the 90's spirit of fun film making. I highly recommend you zits and zombies grab this for your collection. Any flavor. Rodge-o.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Scary Tales (Bleeding Skull! dvd)


Just like any other sub-genre of horror, anthology horror flicks can flop. Scary Tales never flops. It flips. See, what takes place here is that some really dark hooded figure reads these weird "scary tales" to these children that are just hungry to hear about some guy turning into a devil because of a satanic necklace, a guy that goes on a murderous rampage because he discovers his wife is cheating on him, and some selfish jackass that won't play catch with his tub-of-butter son because he's so obsessed with getting to level 21 on some PC game that looks eerily like Might and Magic: Swords of Xeen; that he actually gets sucked into the game for real and he has to fight ninjas and get kicked in the shin by some asshole gnome-dwarf guy. The main reason Scary Tales flips instead of flops is because it had me glued with anticipation to see what kind of unearthed shenanigans I was going to get myself into this time. If watching some fat redneck guy listening to music on a cassette walkman, swigging beer and yelling for his wife-"Hey Bernice, get me another Beer!" doesn't get you the slightest bit interested, then this film isn't for you. Oh, this dude also gets his head crushed in by a man's two bare hands, his eyes literally pop out of their sockets, and the camera zooms in on his belly button to transition to the next scene. Scary Tales has got class. And a bit of good taste.

Satan's necklace? What jewelry store is that sold at?

Geraldo as a bartender? Some fat loser in a green shirt drinking beer? A shitty garage punk/metal band noise-ing it up in the background? SOV madness!

"I deal with more assholes than a proctologist."

Dirt, rocks, and a yoohoo bottle cap.

The devil is in you, bro.

Mullets, turtle necks, mini skirts-this film is loaded!

"What does a blonde and a computer have in common? You don't appreciate them until they go down on you!"

Damn Satan, you've got some horrible dragon's breath. Go to the powder room and swish around some Listerine, yeah?

Usually women bitch about not spending time with their other half. Not the men. Grow a sack, sir.

The dashboard in John's car kicks ass. Especially since we have to be in his backseat staring at it through the camera for an eternity.

   This isn't even close to being the greatest anthology horror flick I've ever watched. Nor does it have to be. All it has to do is make me smile and keep me guessing what kind of hilarious and ridiculous acts are going to take place before the show is over. Scary Tales delivers, and I honestly don't even give a shit that there is no wrap around to go along with it. The only thing close to that that's presented here is that hooded figure that might be death in physical form. There is no explanation. No reason. No back story. Just some evil looking shadow with a hood and two large red, glowing eyes that reads the three tales to the kids. That's all there is, and that's all you'll ever need. I extend my fleshy hand in thanks to Bleeding Skull! and Mondo for putting this film into print. Sorry to cut this short, but I have to find my mix tape from the 80's with Olivia Newton John, The Eurythmics and A-HA. Yeah I know. I don't care. I want to get physical. Bite me.