Bad Karma (1991)

 

I couldn't resist. I just couldn't resist this one. I found out about Bad Karma from 1991 through Brennan Dortch on Instagram after he had posted a random clip showcasing the insanity to come from the very beginning of this monstrosity, and he told me "it should be on Youtube, my dude." And he wasn't lying. I found it right away as if it was waiting for me right around the corner just like the Hare Krishna's do in this film. I'm not going to mince words here, zits and zombies-this thirty five minute piece can and will mutate your well being into something you never thought possible. Just describing Bad Karma as otherworldly or bat-shit nuttery is putting it lightly. I actually don't really think I have any solid words to blacksmith here that could even remotely let you know what you go through with this one-I almost don't think I could do it justice. I don't think I can do it any justice, but I'm going to try. If you're into films that devolve the very existence of human kind, like Things, Sledgehammer, Boardinghouse and any other various slime covered slabs of contained mental illness from this time period of shot on video, then I believe you may have found the king in Bad Karma. For Satan's sake there's a chainsaw named "Buttsaw" that makes an appearance and it lives up to it's name by sawing both legs off of one of the religious mooks that are terrorizing all of the main innocent people here, and it even goes up his butt and completely obliterates the expectation that it might not do so. But it does. Oh, but it does. Towards the end when all hell breaks loose and it's the Hare Krishna's battling it out with Anthony and all of his sex workers, an inbred family just randomly shows up out of nowhere to add to the confusing mess of rambunctious gore, rows of demon teeth and rotten sound effects that have already set a blitzkrieg on what precious brain cells you had left before you decided to electrify your life with such an out of this galaxy gore-fest.

An old British woman is cooking food inside of her house when a few random Hare Krishna's come-a-knocking to waste her time about their beliefs. Her son and a bunch of friends are having a cookout in the backyard, and right when the burgers start blazing on the grill, that's when this film throws your brain on there along with them. The one with glasses has gigantic Wolverine-style claws pop right out of one of his hands and just pummels the woman in the stomach with tons of washed out screams, cranberry juice level blood and pulsating flesh on the side of his face. Maybe that would be a church I could make a donation to. I have to mention the music in certain spots here because at times it's abysmally grotesque, vile and sounds like someone became obsessed with lifting and moving the needle constantly on a record as it spins on a vinyl player. Very little makes any sense here in terms of how people are killed and why and the sound design (or lack there of) is somehow perfect despite it's non-sensical nature. Now that I think about it, everything here is perfect despite it's non-sensical nature. Now I can finally breathe. I hope that this was good enough for Bad Karma. I don't need any for myself. I've had enough.

These four people should get bad karma just because of their outfits.

Shut up you old British witch and just answer the door.

This is some of the hippest 90's music I've ever heard.

Yeah, make a donation-in blood!

"Hey Dave, make mine a killer zombie!" There's a beer called killer zombie?

You literally just drank something, how the hell are you parched?

When did Hare Krishna's become so joyfully brutal?

Anthony runs an S&M spanking house. This can only get better.

"Master, I can't wear these clothes again! They make me itch like a bastard!"

Well, that chainsaw is called "Buttsaw" for a reason.

Death by desk fan!

I think my new superhero now is Mr. Whippy.

Pure... fucking... lunacy!!

"What about my girlfriend?" "I killed her first-then fucked her brains out!"

I've got nothing left, zits and zombies. Bad Karma has officially tossed my soul into the microwave and slapped the timer on high for five minutes. I truly feel irradiated after ingesting such a psychotic beast of hilarious intestines, monsters that have no explanation and audio sawblades that have shredded my pansy mortal inner-ears to the point of just wanting to go to bed for the rest of the day. And it's only four in the evening. I can't sleep for thirteen hours-that's just crazy. What's also crazy is that I watched Bad Karma. It's only thirty five minutes, but it honestly felt like fifteen. When it started it was already over and I was just left on the floor as a mangled pile of skin, bones and hot disease. This film is dangerous and goes beyond anything you may have experienced while high on shrooms or acid. As a matter of fact, the next time I watch this I should give that a try. Maybe there's a sequel hidden in there somewhere. There's only one way to find out.    

Book update #1

 

Hey, yo, woah zits and zombies-I just wanted to throw an update in your undead way for where I'm at with the Cinema Slayer book! I currently have 15 movies left on my list before I can start ripping my old reviews off of here and convert them into pages for this almighty omnibus of blood, guts and gore. And boobs. And Michelle Bauer wielding a chainsaw. As a hooker. She's always been my favorite 80's scream queen next to Linnea Quigley and probably Barbara Crampton. Or maybe Brinke Stevens. Hell, I love all of them.

I am going to take a break this morning as I am writing this to recharge a little bit so I can start re-watching what's left on my list tomorrow morning when I get my creaky ass out of bed. I'm almost forty now-I can't believe it. Why does everything have to hurt? At least it doesn't hurt when I make a tent in my pants.

That will be the pits when that starts to happen.

Anyway zits and zombies, hope your Christmas season so far has been delightful and full of Santa's ho-ho-ho-ing, riding his sleigh and stabbing people. Christmas colors are red and green, you know? Blood and vomit? God I wish I made it as a writer for my career. Then I could keep the pain inside even longer until I leave it all on the page. Or in the toilet. Which ever comes first. I'll stop now.  

I am off for the winter and my progress on the Cinema Slayer book

 

Tell me why I had to be a Powerslave.

Zits and zombies, the time has finally come with my new place of employment where I am laid off for the winter and will continue working in the spring. I have every plan in the world to get as much as I can done with the Cinema Slayer book, and I still have plenty of work to do.

For starters, I still have 33 films left on my list now that I need to give a second watch and write a whole new review for to shove onto the pages of this loving manuscript. I am going to do everything I can to knock this list out and get everything finalized to get this thing into print and into your rotting little hands before I go back to work next year. There will probably still be some new reviews on here once in awhile, but my main focus right now is this project and I can feel it between the fibers of my muscles and bones that this is something I must accomplish. It's deadly imperative. 

I also have been thinking about this as of late-possibly putting together a second blog or website to showcase my photography. I also want to have physical prints made of my work as well (for myself really) so just in case the digital confines of my pc space decide to crap out on me once again, my art will never be lost or forgotten. I may not be a smart man-I just want to be a realistic and practical one. Sometimes.

Anyway, the main reason for this post was to waste your time letting you inspirational undead know that that's what I will be working on and when the book is finally complete, I will let you all know where and when you can soak your fingers in the blood of my words. Have a piece of mind and praise the seventh son of the seventh son.

Eddie says Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Up the irons.

Stuffings

 

I had a bad feeling about Stuffings right when it started. I don't know what it is with me and Australian films, but I just can't get behind them for some reason. First, Body Melt is one that I've watched more than once to try to get into it and still can't stand it, and now this heap. I really wanted to dig this one mainly because it had been recommended to me on Instagram a long while ago and was festering on my list for the website, just waiting for this time of year to indulge in some new Christmas horror to possibly enjoy and maybe even track down a copy of for the good old collection. I had no expectations or pre-conceived notions about what this could possibly contain, and I was right in doing so on this one because Stuffings can stuff it's sorries in a sack, mister. This was another entry I had to unfortunately throw on my worst of the year list when I put that one together sometime next year and it's also a victim of not having any energy at all. The tank was already dry when this thing opened, and just coasted on it's own fumes for the entire run time. I think the heaviest issue with Stuffings though is the lack of what the fuck was actually going on in this picture. I still just don't get what the point of this was at all and the scarecrow Santa's (or whatever they were supposed to be) were just so lame and stupid and I felt absolutely nothing the whole time I was taking notes or even trying to invest in what was happening. The two main characters of Bec and Andy were just annoying as all hell and I really couldn't believe that they had a Youtube channel that even had two subscribers, let alone eventually getting two million before they decided to go on some random camping trip on Christmas Eve. There are so many loose ends here that I don't even think Corey Taylor would even be able to have the talent to gather them up to tie them up into a slipknot-or any kind of knot for that matter.

From what I can actually put together beyond this over baked pan of holiday stuffing is that some fat radio host lady wants this group of people to kidnap and kill four other people by the time Christmas Day comes around so this evil Santa creature thing doesn't kill any of the other kids in the town they live in? I guess?? Honestly, I don't know. Stuffings does commit the ultimate sin that a film can commit in being a piece of shit-it's fucking boring. The majority of the run time here is just Bec and Andy bitching at each other and Andy being obsessed with his phone and recording every single second and every little thing they do for their Youtube videos while Bec wants to take a break from it because it's overwhelming her. That's just scratching the surface of this coiled up, soft served mound of anal evacuation. In between them two engaging that nonsense, all the towns people put up these terribly sloppy Santa scarecrows to keep the demented St. Nick away and my Lord my two year old daughter could honestly do a better job with these things. Most of them are just slung over their fences or thrown onto the side of a tree and look nothing like scarecrows at all. The hay-boy in Weird: The Al Yankovich Story looked better than these damn things do, and it was just laying in his bed for five seconds to confuse his parents when he snuck out to go to a polka party. Man, I can't believe I'm already referencing that movie and I just reviewed it. There's no quality here folks-no quality at all.     

Silence can be uncomfortable. But it can also be heaven.

Take a shot, mate.

These are the worst decorative Santa's I've ever seen.

           "It's not Santa Clause, it looks like crap."

Proposing to Bec may have been a bad idea.

That trail would be great for photography.

Hahahahahaha, this girl is running like the T-1000 from Terminator 2!

Scarecrow Santa is real!

After awhile, any career feels like you're stuck in a machine.

Do people really brush their teeth with no paste and no water?

Holy shit, I thought this old lady was Mrs. Doubtfire for a second.

Wow, what an uneventful kill.

Oh no, Andy is in trouble and this blonde girl is dead.

You're saving children by killing one-okay, this is fucking stupid.

Zits and zombies, I'm always up for a Christmas horror flick I've never seen before. It's my favorite sub-genre in this category besides slashers, and I've sat through a lot of good ones on both ends. Stuffings however, can go stuff itself. There is no amount of anything solid to cull from this one for Christmas time and to be honest (maybe because I don't live in Australia) but this really didn't even feel like a Christmas horror film, let alone any kind of Christmas entry at all. It was to clean and warm looking the entire time and there were no winter coats, snow or ice anywhere in sight. It felt like Santa was being evil during Christmas in July instead of the actual Christmas season, and that's probably another thing to add to my list for this movie getting a lump of coal this year in lieu of what it's really always wanted. To be a real holiday horror movie. This one just needs to stay on the island of misfit toys-forever.  

Blood Harvest

 

Blood Harvest ended up being another one of those b-flicks where the marketing grabs you and doesn't let go. It plays on who the main draw is, where here it's Tiny Tim of all people-it cackles in your face because it knows that you're going to want to sit through this because he's portrayed as the maniacal killer, when in reality it's his brother Gary. Oooops-normally I don't give things up right here when I first start, but the way that things are structured here lends itself to being pretty obvious after the first act piddles itself away and you realize that this microcosm of the world that these people take up space in is only comprised of a small handful. There is a lot of nudity placed into the run time of Blood Harvest, and honestly I didn't think there was going to be any. Hell, with a title like Blood Harvest I was really hoping that it was going to be a gory romp full of eyes being gouged out and Tiny Tim in his clown make-up eating people for dinner, but that's not even close to what takes place in this film about a guy who is so obsessed with his past love that he will do anything to keep her forever-even kill her. I have to say that I really wasn't into Jill as the main character here at all and she just seemed to loose (not in a sexual way) to be the fulcrum in balancing everything that was going on and it bothered me that she was so easily chloroformed by Gary on about two or three different occasions during the film. She just seemed to be to easy of a target and didn't know how to fend anyone off. Maybe under a microscope all the characters here were basically like that except Gary and Sheriff Buckley. Even Tiny Tim himself just seemed weak and underdeveloped, but for Mervo in particular, I believe that was the point.

Jill left for college and came back home to visit her parents. They are nowhere to be found and she has no clue what happened to them. The beginning of Blood Harvest starts off with some guy hanging himself for what seems to be no apparent reason, but then it builds and builds on itself until you realize that someone is killing these four specific people to get to Jill, and I've unfortunately already spoiled who it is and why. There is a pile of weirdness on behalf of Mervo The Magnificent and Gary because they are cut from the same cloth and whoever their parents are or were must be a real treat because they have some serious fucking issues. At one point, Mervo is in a house or cabin, sitting at a table and singing songs about the Bible and looking at pictures of a gutted pig hanging from the ceiling of the barn that Gary is killing everyone in. I just don't get it. I don't think I'm supposed to. Or maybe I'm just not nutty enough. Whatever the case may be, Mervo and his brother are just downright off the wall and that's enough to propel this thing into cult status.

Tears of a clown. Especially Tiny Tim.

This guy's voice is booming without even talking into a mic. 

Normies for the slaughter.

Sweet Lord, Sarah is hot!

I'm confused, so is that a real dead guy hanging in the front door or is that a mannequin?

Marvelous Mervo! The murderous clown!

Paintball is such a great sport.

"How about some meaningless sex?"

Yeah, another day shot to hell.

The good Lord is going to guide Mervo into murdering more people. Or his brother.

Tiny Tim is fucking weird, but damn is he entertaining.

     That carpet is so fucking ugly. It doesn't even look like carpet-it looks like the floor is made out of pizza or spaghetti.

Oh man, Scott-baseball bat to the face!

Zits and zombies, Blood Harvest is a messed up film about obsession, stalking and lust. That is not even remotely close to what I thought it was going to be about, but here it is. And Mervo isn't the murderous clown I was hoping for either, but here it is. There is more nudity than the actual harvesting of blood and plasma, but here it is. Okay, I'll stop with the semantics, but really-even though this film isn't what it really lends it self to be, I enjoyed it fully even with all of it's intrinsic flaws and half-baked characters. Pretty much all of them are throw away except Jill, Gary and Mervo (which is about half of them) and in the end even though I still liked Blood Harvest for what it became after sitting through it, it is still kind of a waste. I would have liked a little more gore to balance things out and Jill should have been a stronger female lead, but hey-not every piece sells the circus. Not every pig yields the bacon and not every Bible saves your soul. Well, maybe they do. I don't know. Just book Mervo The Magnificent for your next birthday party. He'll be happy to do it. Because he just wants to see the world smile one last time.    

Hellmaster

 

Just because your shitty horror flick (somehow) has the legendary John Saxon starring in it, doesn't mean that it's going to be worthwhile. Hellmaster does in fact have him shoved inside of itself for the money (it had to be) because there is little to nothing here to redeem. The cover art for the film would lead it's potential audience to believe that this Freddy Krueger, pin-less Pinhead looking motherfucker is the main villain, but how dubious have we become. Well, by 1992 standards anyway. The person or demon (or whatever) that is so graciously emblazoned front and center to suck you in is in this thing only for a few minutes and ends up being one of Saxon's minions of sorts to continue his stupid experiments to try and turn a bunch a college idiots into these bizarre Jones Cult follower thingies. Yeah, Jones Cult. What does that sound like to you? Hellmaster comes in luke warm and barely even retains that energy by the time John Saxon bites it and revels in it's lethargy until the credits rolled which made me feel bitter and empty on the inside. It wasn't quite that bad, but this piece is pretty fucking awful to say the least, and it has basically nothing going for it. I never bothered to look, but if this made it on blu-ray, I just have to ask why. Who is going to get into this unless you're a die hard John Saxon fanatic that must have all of his films or someone that loves to torture themselves to the point of wanting to swallow an entire bottle of bleach and aspirin at the same time. Better get your will and obituary written out now because it's starting to look kind of dark in here.

The whole idea for this petrified turd is that Saxon's character is some kind of scientist or cult leader that has been continuing the Nietzche Experiment for the last twenty plus or so years underground at a college campus, and now that he finally feels like it's doing what it's supposed to, he has his mutant "children" attack and kidnap the students there to inject them with this disgusting looking vanilla pudding looking shit that turns them into goblin-Jones Cult freaks as well. The Jones Cult logo is branded into their foreheads and it very much resembles the Blue Oyster Cult logo as well. Coincidence? I think not. At least BOC is a kick ass metal band-Hellmaster is just a fucking sloppy, slow, sluggish pile of vomit from a rhino's asshole, steaming with an infection that would take years to remedy if not for modern medical science. Who am I kidding-that shit is a scam as well. Fuck it, if you sit through Hellmaster, consider yourself sick forever. You'll never recover from it.

Them? I thought this was called Hellmaster.

    Being a writer is lonely work, and that's why I love it.

What do I see? I see John Saxon wearing some terrible movie make-up.

  If this college program is government funded, it's time to walk out.

Joel has as much charisma as a dried up starfish.

Smile, Christ is watching from the cross!

And King Diamond said that nuns have no fun. Looks like murder is part of their jubilation.

What the fuck does this douche-bag not wearing any underwear have anything to do with anything?

Damn, everyone in this movie is so lame.

John Saxon Jones. Has a golden ring to it.

"A lot of teenagers are dying for a drink."

Hanging this pig out to dry-care for some bacon?

I knew there were other reasons to be into photography besides art.

Zombie cop or Hellcop-either one would be a great movie title.

Hey man, if you're looking to join the Tunnel Snakes, you're going the wrong way.

Zits and zombies, I fucking hated everything about Hellmaster. Every single thing. I couldn't stand the characters, the music, the cinematography-none of it. It was all shit. This fun sized Baby Ruth I am eating as I write this looks like a little piece of dried toilet waste that my daughter would leave in her diaper after she eats, but at least Baby Ruth's taste amazing. Hellmaster leaves a gigantic elephant pile wherever it pleases and expects you to enjoy cleaning it up. Fuck you, Hellmaster. I suspect you were potty trained at some point so how's about you go in the damn toilet where you're supposed to instead of by my front door. You fucking Jones Cult degenerate. And take John Saxon with you-he needs to find better work for himself. I hope he was paid well enough for this because if I was him, I would leave this shit off of my resume' and refuse to autograph memorabilia for it at conventions. Hellmaster doesn't exist as far as I'm concerned. Now it's time to watch a real horror flick with the word hell in the title. Doug Bradley, here I come. 

Dead Dudes In The House

This is one of those slasher flicks that ended up having multiple names when it was released, but Dead Dudes In The House in my opinion is the one that suits it best purely from a marketing stand point. The cover art alone will tell you if this one could be for you, but then again it's a funny lie right to your face because this 80's/90's boy band inspired still shot has absolutely nothing to do with the actual film itself, and none of these righteous dudes here on the cover are even in the film at all anyway. It's there to suck you into it's faux world of heavy gore, violence, a jackass breaking a tombstone that wakes a demented old lady who just loves to kill people and of course whenever one of the guys get stabbed-they end up being a dead dude in the house. When I first started watching this on Tubi, I really didn't know what I was going to be getting myself into because the infamous Troma music and city skyline popped up to let me know that this was going to be either a complete waste of time like the movie that tainted my taste for their catalogue many years ago-Loony In The Woods, or it was going to be a more enjoyable experience by them like, what else, The Toxic Avenger. The former made such a strongly negative impact on me when I wrote a review for it back in 2017 that I'm pretty sure that I vowed never to watch anything from the New Jersey giant ever again-and since then, I truly haven't. Until Dead Dudes In The House. This isn't a film put out by them that was ever going to change my mind at all, but really was a good time that if you are a fan of gore and buckets and buckets of more gore with some great special effects to go along with it, then yeah-being a dead dude in a house certainly doesn't disappoint.

   Bob decides that it's a funny and somewhat good idea to break a seemingly random tombstone that's in the yard of the house that his friend Mark just bought to live in. It's a huge (literally and figuratively) fixer-upper, and they all go as a large group to try to tackle this thing and get it back into living condition so, what else-Mark can move into it. It's a monstrous task, but it has to be done, even if Annabelle does start killing everyone. I really wasn't expecting the amount of blood to be present here as there is, and if that's what you're looking for, it lives up to it in spades. Bob is just a downright asshole and I couldn't wait for him to get sliced up by Annabelle. And that's another thing-she's one helluva strong old lady. The film never really says how old she is, but she has to at least live up to or exceed the triple digits and never seems to miss a step-even as slow as she is. These dudes are to stupid to realize what's going on until it's to late, and then when they do, Annabelle puts up a tremendous fight and picks them off one by one and then locks them in the house so they can't leave. Serves them right I guess-well, Bob anyway. He's really the only one that actually deserves any of this. For busting up Annabelle's tombstone. And for being an unsavory dickhead.

Sippin' some lemonade while your grandma stabs your grandpa. Okay then.

If you want vegetables, you're already surrounded by them.

Yeah-put your head in that noose. That grave was meant for you, Bob.

"A carpenter's tools are a hammer, nails and beer." You sound like a tool by just saying that.

Can Bob just get killed already? I can't stand this motherfucker.

I guess Mark is the first dead dude in the house.

This house is sealed up for real-no one can come in or out.

You never know when you'll need a machete.

How hard could it really be to kill a 90 year old woman?

Joey is the second dead dude in the house. Well, he was killed outside but whatever. He's still dead.

"You're next! You won the lottery, Jackson!"

Damn, this old lady is brutal!

"Why am I friends with you?" "Because I'm a great guy."

Steve's a dead dude in the house now too. He looks like Frankensteve. Permanently.

When it comes down to it zits and zombies, Dead Dudes In The House was a pure blast. I had way more fun with it than I thought I would have and I really do recommend it if you're in the mood for something that's going to offer you plenty of gore and violence by the hands of an angry old lady that was awakened by a clown shoe that though it was a great idea to break a tombstone for no reason other than the fact that he's a clown shoe. Yeah, when Bob finally bites it it becomes more worth it to sit through because he's getting his just desserts and it tastes very good. There really is no plot to speak of here either because it starts off literally with a young girl (whom is Annabelle's granddaughter) drinking lemonade, staring at the aftermath of what's left of her grandma stabbing the shit out of her grandpa. Then forty years later, Mark and his friends show up to clean up the place so he can move in and they get a sweet surprise they didn't expect. The plot is paper thin, but in this case, it doesn't matter-all that matters here is that there's dead dudes in the house and they're ready to party. Jump around, jump around-jump, jump, jump, jump around.

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story

 

When my wife and I ran across the trailer for Weird: The Al Yankovic Story roughly about a month before it was going to be released, we immediately said to one another that we had to watch this. It looked so stupid and over the top that we just couldn't miss it. And it also helped quite a bit that it was produced by Funny or Die, which already meant to me that it was going to encompass the right amount of all of what it needed-comedy, stupidity, fun and over the top rambunctiousness. And with this insanely satirical biopic film about the master of musical parody, it had to be a straight up win. As far as both of us are concerned, it is. Weird: The Al Yankovich Story does the whole full circle thing when it opens with him looking like hell, being escorted around very quickly in a hospital bed with blood coming out of his nose and eyes and everything. Then it decides to go all the way back to when he was a kid and his dad beats the living shit out of some random guy trying to sell an accordion to Al (or anyone) and the cops breaking up a polka party littered with polka music, polka teens and I'm assuming the best of polka food. I don't know what world this takes place in, but polka is apparently evil and maybe I don't want any part of it now either. Shit looks dangerous. But Al gets pressured into shredding it up and melting faces on an accordion at this shindig by all the other kids doing the chicken dance, so he naturally has to one-up them all by tearing it up before the cops get there as if it's some kind of drug infested crack den that needs to be shut down when really they're just kicking their feet in the air to the sweet sounds of 19th-century Bohemia. And trying to hook up with some sweet Polish girls. Probably. 

This is the story of the greatest parody song writer who ever lived, and it all starts with a cover of "My Sharona", which Al's version is "My Bologna". Clever. And funny. All three of his roommates believe in him which is the complete opposite of how his parents treated him when he was growing up. His dad was obsessed with him working in this hellish place that he's perpetually stuck at known only as "the factory" and no one will ever say what they make there. Even after Al attempts to start working there to try and satiate his father beyond becoming a huge star, the actual employee's there won't say anything about it either. And someone dies in the new machine when Al turns it on. Again. But there is a backstory to all of this seeming non-sense and Al even hooks up with Madonna for a long period of time and eventually does a parody of "Like a Virgin" with "Like a Surgeon". It's a huge hit on stage, even if he is plastered on whisky. But of course, Madonna was just using him to do that to help her own record sales, and eventually becomes the new leader of the Mexican drug cartel after Weird Al blasts Pablo Escobar and all of his main cronies into oblivion with a fucking M-16, which results in Madonna trying to shoot him as he walks away. And misses every time. Well, she did almost kill him when she shot him in the chest, but his very heavy multi-platinum, mini record necklace stopped the round from getting him. He's the most durable pop star out there.

Starting at the end to start at the beginning.

Dr. Demento, Coffin Joe, Mad Magazine- Al Yankovich was destined to be weird. And famous.

Your dad lost his hand to an industrial machine and a young kid was killed by it-yeah, a factory job will make a man out of you.

Devil's squeeze box. That's a great name for an accordion.

Dude, he was selling an accordion. You don't need to beat the living shit out of him.

I must be dumb because I don't even know what a hay-boy is.

   Melting faces with an accordion-hell yeah man! Not a guitar-an accordion.

M-m-m-my bologna!

Parody music in a punk club... yeah, you better start the car.

I love Rocky Road!

Devo, Elton John, Pee Wee Herman, Tiny Tim, Wolfman Jack, John Deacon-the list just goes on and on. Party on.

Another one rides the bus!

The last thing Al cares about right now is eating enough bran.

Wow-I'm glad I've never taken LSD.

Zits and zombies, Weird: The Al Yankovic Story is a damn blast. If you're a fan of anything that has to do with Weird Al, parody music or film, Funny or Die, Daniel Radcliffe, Madonna, or anything funny like this at all period-you're going to love this. This was meant to be over the top on purpose because it's Weird Al for Satan's sake, and it really felt like it had the right charm, charisma and attitude to pull it off without being to insane or to stupid for it's own good. That's when it would have fallen apart. Also, I think that if you've always been a fan of the film UHF that Weird Al did back in 1989, you also should really be into this as well. It's obvious right away that most of this is embellished and made up just for the sake of being funny, and I felt like it worked very well to it's advantage. Now, of course, the songs are the real songs that Weird Al has done over the years with my personal favorites always being Amish Paradise, Eat It and The Ballad of Jed Clampett (even though that one isn't in this flick) and they are represented well here even with a faux Coolio in the crowd as his parody is being performed. Just so good. If you need something brand-spanking new and funny at the same time, I highly encourage you to watch Weird: The Al Yankovic Story. Wolfman Jack wants you to to prove your worth.

Pale Blood

 

Vampire flicks, t.v. shows or any kind of media isn't something I normally gravitate towards. I still don't really know why I chose to even watch Pale Blood at all-maybe it was because of the seductive cover art, maybe it was because Wings Hauser starred in it-no matter what, Pale Blood was a fun watch even in spite of how terrible it truly is. There are many twists and turns here that are pretty much what you would expect and nothing was a huge surprise to me during this romp, and that would most likely be the case for pretty much everyone that watches this unless you've been Amish your whole life and just broke out of the faith and watched this to piss off your devout family or you're just to young to have experienced all of the main, well known vampire tropes and clichés that everyone that has ever lived knows about by now. There are spots here and there with some decent gore and tension, but overall I'd have to sit here and say that Pale Blood is a fucking silly vampire film from start to finish. You can't take this one seriously even if you tried, and I'm not so sure that we're supposed to in the first place. The ADR in this piece is hilariously bad and it's blatantly louder than most of the other sound effects and speech going on here-and the music is like that as well. They somehow were able to get the punk band Agent Orange to actually perform in the movie too, and the first time you hear them and see them, the scene with them playing goes on for waaaayyyy to damn long-but I get what they were going for and what they tried to do-they were trying to get them playing their song "Fire in the Rain" to go along with Michael Fury getting intimate with and eventually biting Jenny to suck her blood. From one of her boobs. Yeah. Vampires are supposed to bite necks not breasts, but hey-what do I know.

Michael Fury shows up randomly in L.A. because a woman is laying dead in the front display of a clothing store or whatever, and at first you think he's a cop or detective or something like that because that's the trickery this film puts the viewer through right at the start-a big juicy, red herring for you to nibble on right when this thing opens. He eventually (and randomly) runs into Wings Hauser at some point, whose character is some famous video artist or some bullshit that makes and edits these bizarre videos of attractive women breaking eggs between their legs and makes it look sexual somehow. I don't know. All I know is that he also has a linage to a vampire hunter or whatever and somehow figures out that Michael Fury (in all his fury) is one as well and wants to kill him to rid the city of vampires once and for all. None of this matters though because Agent Orange is laced through this film to often, Wings Hauser is a nutcase as usual and Michael Fury never gets furious enough for this to be any better than a semi-mediocre vampire flick that tries to have to much going on at once and just ends up where Hauser does at the end-in the loony bin. 

Airports are the worst place in the world for introverts.

Michael Fury? What a cool name. You might as well just start calling me Gregory Berserk.

 I wonder if all of these studios realize how bad the ADR is in all of these flicks.

There were still gas stations in 1990 where the employees filled the customers gas tanks for them?

Getting kind of meta there Mr. Fury.

Yeah, what you're doing is "art". Just like Andy Warhol's Empire is "art". 

Michael Fury is watching you with fury. I love saying that.

Look-Agent Orange is a solid old school punk band, but this scene has been going on for way to fucking long now.

  Michael Fury is about to put the fury into some furious sexy time.

I thought you were supposed to bite a woman in the neck to get her blood, not her boob.

Nosferatu is a silent classic.

Mr. Fury's excuse is always some kind of sleep related issue. Get to bed, man. This furious vampire isn't going to wait around for you to unleash your fury upon him to put him behind bars. 

Zits and zombies, Pale Blood honestly is a fun watch if you have the right mindset for a vampire movie that tries to hard to be serious, and fails. It's not a hard fail because it ends up being lighter than I first expected, mostly because of the production quality and budget restraints. Wings Hauser is terrific as usual playing a nutty bastard that ends up being the off-center nucleus he needed to be here, and everyone else fit right in where they needed to be for this film to work. I'm honestly glad that Vinegar Syndrome put this out on blu-ray sometime ago so the cult fans of Pale Blood that are out there can finally stop watching their worn out VHS copies after all of these years and witness Michael Fury in all of his vampiric fury in glorious HD or 4K. Although, with a cool name like that I was hoping he was going to herald more fear and fury in this universe of perverted video artists, blood and breast sucking and not-so-surprising vampire reveals that may have cultivated into a frenzy of the artist versus the vampire, but unfortunately, something like that never happens here. Pale Blood is a good time. Even if Michael Fury's fury isn't so furious.  

The Sawyer Massacre (Steve Merlo/2022)

 

As a fan of the franchise overall (even though a few entries are questionable) and the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre being my favorite fear flick of all time, I have to sit here and say that I really enjoyed Steve Merlo's Sawyer Massacre. The psychotic mess with the family is here, Leatherface being himself is here, Grandpa is a sick bastard as you would entirely expect-it's the full tilt package when it comes to any kind of addition to this universe of perversity, cannibalistic hunger and humans being hacked up for barbeque. The Sawyer family is stocking up for the winter, and there's a lot of free range meat walking around. Time to put that apron on, gas up that chainsaw and listen to people scream for the better part of ninety minutes and this truly is a solid work that deserves to be sopped up with a dry sponge to get all of that southern grit, glucose and plasma stuck between your teeth. There are of course production and acting flaws as you would expect (and a lot of the time those things make the overall experience abysmal) but in the case of The Sawyer Massacre, I personally think that those things add to the charm here. I'd say there's two main things that just weren't implemented either for time or maybe no one could figure out how to do them properly, but there's no dinner scene and Leatherface didn't have his signature chainsaw dance that we've all come to know and love at the end of all of the entries-and I really would have liked those to be in here. But, even with those major points being missing, I can accept the fact of what I stated earlier being possible reasons for their exclusion, but also this is a fan made prequel, so maybe Leatherface just hadn't thought about doing a spinning, non-sensical jig with a heavy-assed piece of forestry equipment that's supposed to be used for chopping up trees and wood. But hey, even artists like him have a process. He just hadn't fully developed his craft yet.

 Three guys that are close friends end up going on a trip to get away from it all, and they end up going to Jimmy's Uncle's cabin in the middle of nowhere. Brent is the pretty boy, Jimmy has a broken heart and Gene kind of just felt like the glue in between them. Jimmy goes off by himself to think about some things that happened in making them go on the trip in the first place and to just be alone for awhile. He stumbles upon the house where Loraine and Allison live and I will say that I think Allison was perfect as this film's version of Sally, although I would have liked a lot more blood-curdling screams bellowing from her because I though she had the lungs for them. Other random people get led astray by Rex to the Sawyer house because people love to end up at their gas station for some reason and the family needs food for the winter. A family of two daughters and mom and dad, a local black woman and a young city couple all end up on the menu and get fucked up by Leatherface in various ways-and I honestly think my pick for the most brutal is probably when Brant's face gets filleted with a knife by Leatherface. There isn't an overabundance of gore here, but there's still enough to satiate the bloodthirst when the time comes to make some pulled human, I mean pork. The original Texas Chainsaw Massacre achieved everything it needed to with no gore at all, but what's here in the visceral department is great and doesn't bog the pace down one bit for what it's going for. There were a couple of times where I actually did physically cringe as well so just for that alone makes this an experience that every Texas Chainsaw Massacre fan should check out.

An ordinary day always becomes a nightmare.

No man, I think she's dead. Like you are now.

Road kill for food-I was thinking the same thing.

My God, that hideous wallpaper reminds me of the wallpaper from The Last Slumber Party.

     He's going to scare away the customers? I think the shit paint job on the sides of your building is already doing that.

There's nothing wrong with that nomadic spirit.

Right now I think I'd rather stay in Texas than go to Canada.

I'm expecting this kid to start kicking the air and yell "pancakes!" sometime soon.

You guys are going to be the bbq. Just letting you know.

Heeeeeerrrrreeee's Bubba!

I didn't think I would identify with any of these characters, but I had a similar pain in the past Jimmy. Close to the heart.

Upstairs is weird? Wait until you go downstairs.

He wants to wear your face, pretty boy!

A lot of life left in that house? That's a good one.

They're vegetarians? More like they're not cannibals.

Zits and zombies, all I can say is that if you are a fanatic about the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre (or just the entire franchise regardless of the insane turns that it's made over the years) The Sawyer Massacre lives up to being an unofficial prequel. I personally think that Steve Merlo and his crew did a fantastic job with putting in the work with this one, and it really shows. Like I said, I wish there was a dinner scene and Leatherface's chainsaw dance, but hey-you can't always get what you want in life. Or death. But what we did get here is a solid representation from an indie perspective of the Sawyer family doing their wicked things and producing their annual food for winter stasis and survival. I can't say that I blame them, but I'd rather go to the grocery store and spend the money. It's a lot less gross, there's no yelling and screaming (unless people have their unruly children there) and you don't have to waste any gas revving up the chainsaw. You can also buy real meat there instead of that 3-D printed bullshit. Now there's something that scares me. Meat from a printer. No thank you. Maybe I will put in my order for some human flesh chili. Hey Bubba, give me a gallon of that shit. I have a full family to feed here. 

Garden Tool Massacre

 

Garden Tool Massacre has plenty of enthusiasm, it just lacks the energy. The laziness of the production here drags this thing's feet across the barren asphalt that it sits on and doesn't have the overall strength to pick itself back up to start running. Or to even slightly attempt to take a brisk walk. I'm a big fan of SOV horror and I wanted to enjoy Garden Tool Massacre, but it lobs it's own genitals off before it even gives itself a chance at reproducing. That's a sad and depressing wave to layer on top of this shot in the dark from 1997, and darkness is no stranger to this flick. Pretty much every scene here is so freaking black you can barely see what's happening, and on top of that (which is the worst part here) is the audio. Sweet Moses is the audio ever horrendous. I honestly had no idea that this was a British offering until the first two nit wits you see onscreen after the opening start flapping their canker sore infested mouths about some guy named Mike coming over to the house and surprisingly, the fat guy doesn't want to eat any toast. Or anything for that matter. Actually, I don't think I saw him even go near any food at all which also made me push this down further into my blackened bathtub of muddied water. If there's a fat guy in your movie, he needs to eat something. It feels awkward if he doesn't. Besides that nonsense, there's an astonishing amount of kills that are on screen here with some decent gore and even a random guy that has no dialogue, sitting on the floor playing Duke Nukem 3D on some console. You can never clearly see it, but he's playing it on the t.v. in the living room and does get killed by the garden tool killer dude. His actual character name is Charles Scavolini, but let's be real here-in an SOV titled Garden Tool Massacre, names of people don't matter. The gore, nudity and specific charm do. 

Charles Scavolini decides one night to stand creepily outside his own bedroom window while his wife is sleeping soundly in their bed-steps inside slowly after an insanely strong lens flare blinds the cameraman, and proceeds to stab her repeatedly. After he kills the dumbest orderly and security guard ever hired by a mental facility, he's back out to kill the young dumbasses that have started to rent or buy (or whatever) the house that him and his wife used to live in before he decided to slay her with a knife instead of his penis. Yeah, I said that. The fat guy and the other guy throw the absolute lamest party I would have ever walked out on after playing some Duke with the guy sitting on the floor because fuck getting my head chopped off with either an electric hedge trimmer or manual ones. Normally I really dig awful SOV flicks like this, but this one just doesn't have it. It doesn't live up to it's names full potential like it should and that is seriously disappointing. There is eventually a Garden Tool Massacre, but it's not as gory or as graphic as I hoped it would be. The cover art kicks ass though. I'll give it kudos for that.

     Wow, what a lens flare.

Don't get turned on, just stab her!

Aren't you going to scream?

C'mon Melvin, keep moppin' that floor.

Yeah, um-so, how do you knock a guy out just by holding his head up against the wall?

The phone never rang and yet you pick it up and start talking to someone on the other end. Ooookay.

So far, no one has been killed by any garden tools. Only kitchen knives.

I'm surprised the fat guy doesn't want any toast.

When did British guys start wearing sombreros?

Let's look for bottles of liquor in the garage-in real time!

I hope you guys get slaughtered with shears and an electric hedge trimmer so this movie can kind of live up to it's name.

That ring tone sounds like Solid Snake's radio in Metal Gear Solid.

Zits and zombies, as much of a fan of SOV as I am, I still didn't get into this one to much. It doesn't have the pizzazz of the Video Violence films and certainly lacks the gore and kills of something like Killing Spree or on the more extreme side of things-Black Past or The Burning Moon. All of those films are above and beyond anything that you would expect a filmmaker that has no budget and no idea what they are doing going to be able to pull off, and that's ultimately why I'm going to make Garden Tool Massacre sit in the corner facing the wall instead of joining the rest of the kids for recess because unfortunately, it's the child that no one wants to play with. Sure, it will gain some friends out of pity and poor taste, but it's not climbing to the upper echelon of this group and it's certainly getting picked last to be on anyone's kickball team. Hey teach, where's the hall pass? I gotta take a piss and maybe wank for a minute. These strange feelings are building up inside and I have to let them out. This boy is searching for something better.   

Death Rink

 

I'm reeling right now. The only positive thing I can say about Death Rink is that it made me feel a little bit nostalgic. Way back when I was 18, I worked at a skate rink around here named Skate West, and man do I have plenty of good and not-so-good memories being employed behind the scenes at that place. I never thought of all sanctions, on here, that I would even need to say something about the experiences working there, but some of the actual "labor" (if you want to call it that) that takes place in this throw away terror flick for 80% of the 74 minutes it spits in your face with is really what I had to do working there. The owner was always drunk all the time, he would always try to get in the pants of the tall, leggy blonde that worked with us off and on and his mom would show up once in awhile to yell at him in front of all of us while we were cleaning up or getting things ready for a birthday party the next day. The topper that I will never forget until the day that my empty little heart finally stops beating is the time he invited me up to his apartment where he lived upstairs above the DJ booth. Yep. There was a big, double paned window where no one could ever see into it and everyone always tried to theorize about why it was there-I found out that day. It was a literal full scale apartment with a shower and a fridge and everything-the walls and the floor were covered in this fucking atrocious 70's brown and orange carpeting that made me feel like vomiting and gave me a surreal feeling of vertigo, not being able to process the fact that this inebriated bastard that owned and ran the skating rink lived upstairs. Fucking weird, man. I would never be able to do that.

  But now that we're here to talk about how many cinematic sins in which Death Rink commits, let's start getting down to it. Because there's a lot of them. I'm going to get going with the main one and just say it-it's goddamn boring. The biggest shit stain on this film's hands is that it bores the audience to death faster than when the "kills" start finally happening, and that's when there's only roughly 25 minutes left of the 74. So the first three quarters make you agonize and writhe in your own salty tears of tedium and you'll be saying "is it over yet?" quicker than if you had diarrhea after eating a whole crave case in one sitting. That's just for starters. The dialogue is fucking flat, the score is haphazardly generic and the acting-my God the acting-is so harshly wooden that I could most likely cut through it with a chainsaw. Everyone just felt stiff and unsure of themselves most of the time which was heavily evident onscreen and weighed this production down almost just because of how abysmally boring this fucking thing is. I really can't stress enough that this might have been better off as a 30 minute short as apposed to a 74 minute one, and the reveal at the end of who's wearing the alien mask snuffing everyone out is so unpolished and full of blemishes. So frustrating. I really wanted to like Death Rink, but the ball bearings in my skate wheels weren't oiled up enough for this one.

Was this filmed at a skate rink in New Mexico? I saw a New Mexico flag.

Ooooh, roller skates with eerie music layered over them. Spooky.

That baggie doesn't have anything in it. Oh, the rest of it is in the toilet.

A pair of sunglasses, a switchblade and a dimebag. That's one helluva night at a skating rink.

"Toliet's kinda trippin."

How desperate are you that you're going to smoke a tea bag as a replacement for weed? Fucking loser.

Dude, you don't put mustard on pizza. You use ranch.

So, a kid died in the middle of the rink back in the 80's because he a had a seizure from the strobe lights and speed skaters ran him over. They didn't see him and stop to help him up or call an ambulance? What the hell?

The phone rings. Answer it. The phone rings. It's a crank call. The phone rings. It's Rachel's boyfriend. The phone rings and is anything ever going to happen in this fucking movie?

None of you girls are hot. None of you.

Zits and zombies, Death Rink just outright sucks. The majority of the film is the phone ringing and someone that works there answers it with some guy screaming "Satan" on the other end because he feels like it I guess. That plot point pretty much goes nowhere as does basically everything else in this flick. There's nothing here that prompts me to want to delve deeper into the characters populating this microcosm of a world because there's nothing here but a douche-bag named Daley that wants to bang every girl he works with (which I don't know why you would) and is so desperate to smoke something. Anything. French is named French because he dips popcorn in mustard and puts mustard on pizza so French makes sense (runs fingers very hard down the front of my face and slowly lets the word "why" out of my mouth at this moment) as well as Wendy, Cara, Alicia and Rachel who are the main ladies that are just here to be here. As cannon fodder. Well, besides one-but I still won't spoil it in case you want to waste your time with this biohazard trash can stuffed beyond the brim with pathetically radioactive tree stumps. I'm trying to say that Death Rink isn't worth the 74 minutes it takes to skate a round with. Lace those wheels up with something else.