Toolbox Murders 2

 

I have to point out here at the beginning that I've never seen the original Toolbox Murders or even the Tobe Hooper remake, so I have no legs to stand on when it comes to this possibly shitty sequel simply titled Toolbox Murders 2. And I say "possibly shitty" because, again, I haven't seen the other two so I don't really have a base to spring from, but they have to be better than what unfolds here. This entry delves very deep into the extreme side of gory horror, and if you watch the actual cut, not the "Coffin Baby" cut, then you're going to be in for a nasty fucking bloodfest of psychotic serial killer proportions. I like reading and watching documentaries about those weirdo's-I don't want to actually see them commit the acts. The psychological aspect of those monsters is way more interesting than what they have actually committed, and the antagonist here is no different. This guy is fucking brutal and doesn't hold back at all in terms of sawing limbs off, sawing people in half while they are alive with a table saw, using a blowtorch to burn people, slicing off the flesh of someone while they watch as they're own skin is being cooked in a skillet for breakfast. Coffin Baby doesn't give a good shit about anyone or anything here, and it's utterly repulsive. I'm not opposed to extreme violence or heavy gore in any horror flick if it's done right, but here in Toolbox Murders 2 I felt the whole way through that it was done just for the sake of it and really didn't punctuate much of anything besides it being stylized to make him out to be the sickest bastard this side of Dahmer or Ed Gein. I'm pretty sure that was the whole point, and it was achieved greatly. The massive let down for this film though is that once you make it to the end credits, you still really don't know much of anything aside from feeling filled up with the rage of not knowing why any of this took place-nothing is explained about Samantha and her sister, nothing is explained about why Coffin Baby is doing what he's doing and nothing is brought out about literally anything. This is an unnecessary sequel that was just a cash-grab to prey on the horror community, and I don't know if it sold well enough to make a profit, but I honestly kind of hope it didn't. There was no reason for this.

Samantha has been kidnapped and locked in a cage in a dingy basement with absolutely nothing. No food, no water, no communication and no hope. The entire movie is basically her having flashbacks of what happened before she was kidnapped and goes through this whole ordeal having to watch Coffin Baby chop people up in various ways with actual tools from a tool box, and slowly loses her mind from day to day. She ends up throwing up bile from not eating anything for multiple days, tries eating a cockroach, eats her own hair at one point and just isn't a normal human being by the time this shit is over. You can't blame her. Eventually at some point she gets so hungry that she willingly takes some seared meat from a pan that Coffin Baby is cooking stuff in, and wouldn't you know it-it's fucking human flesh! What a damn surprise! And she even gets to watch him slice the skin off of some blonde chick's leg that he captured in a big white bag, and has her chained to the table with the saw. I will state here that the music is actually very fitting with a Ministry/Prong kind of vibe going on with it which fits the psychosis and uneasiness of the film entirely and the cinematography is actually very clean and well put together and adds great punch to the overall proceedings. There's no shortage of sickness here and there's a few frames where it honestly felt like I was looking at the live version of a Cannibal Corpse album cover (which, I mean, Cannibal Corpse is a kick ass death metal band) where there are just bodies, severed heads and limbs all over the place and blood splattered in grotesque patterns all over the walls to complete things. If all you're looking for is just insane amounts of brutal gore, you'll find it here. There was even a couple of scenes where I felt like I couldn't eat anything while watching this so there's that too. It reaches for the stars in terms of gross violence, and does it wonderfully.

Starting off with a scalping. I'm sorry, a box cutter defacing.

I have to say-I'm pretty impressed with this violent and gory stop motion in the intro here.

Okay, this bald dude needs to stop with the sexual fetishes.

Yo sista' be dead.

So, this homeless dude was tossed into the windshield of a cop car and his head was sawed off, and the cops weren't watching?

There's someone in that bag, isn't there? Yep.

Why stop at cutting off one leg when you could do both? That's just lazy.

Fuck that-don't eat one of the roaches.

It's probably not the breakfast you think it is, it's probably dead people parts.

Yep, it's cannibal shit.

There's the guy with the stupid hat.

I think Samantha is going to need a lot of counseling now after being kidnapped and locked up for multiple days while watching people getting cut up with a table saw and eating popcorn.

Zits and zombies, Toolbox Murders 2 is just here as a torture porn gore-fest to try and cash in on the original and remade name sake of The Toolbox Murders. This piece was highly unnecessary on pretty much every level and has no reason to have ever been made, but here it is. I stated at the beginning of this review that I've never even seen the original or the remake, and I have a feeling that they are both vastly superior to this dump. This actually kind of makes me want to watch both of those just to see if this one even remotely has anything to do with either of them, and since I'm a realist, they probably don't. Maybe Coffin Baby is a returning psycho serial killer villain from either or both of those, but I don't know for sure. All I know is that, once again (and I have been watching a lot of these lately it seems like) that this is a heavy handed purgatory flick. I see absolutely no reason to revisit this unless maybe you feel like taking it upon yourself to have a marathon one day of watching all three Toolbox Murder movies in one day, but why the hell would you do that. Probably for the same reason that I've attempted to watch all the Texas Chainsaw movies in a row, and failed miserably. Mainly because the franchise is much bigger than this trilogy and because that franchise has a lot more bullshit to wade through. The swamp gets pretty deep, my friend-and so does Toolbox Murders 2. Put your hogging boots on because it's time to go fishin'. 

Bus Party to Hell

 

I do remember when Bus Party to Hell was released back in 2017 and being mildly excited about it because it was yet another schlocky offering from the blonde nymph Tara Reid. She has been integral to pieces such as the Sharknado franchise, Charlie's Farm, Mummy Dearest and a slew of other gum-stuck-to-the-bottom-of-your-shoe type material that most would happily scrape off in delight and toss in the trash. In other words, Tara isn't opposed to fun campiness, and Bus Party to Hell is absolutely no different. I slid into this one not having a damn clue about what it entailed, and it was fairly okay. Definitely a purgatory flick. Devanny Pinn graced this picture with her sexiness as well (although not enough of it) and I kind of wish that more of the characters stuck around just a bit longer to add more weight to this thing before all hell breaks loose (pretty much literally) because even though I did have a good time writing stuff down for this, I still felt kind of hollow by the time it was over. I know this is going to be pretty freaking obvious, but the majority of this film takes place on the party bus itself (who knew?) with the main characters looking out of the windows at various times to see what's taking place after the bus driver randomly vanishes because "they need to stop for a minute". Everyone is getting plastered, there's breasts galore, a redhead lesbian, an artsy-fartsy guy who's actually gay that is pretending to love his high school sweetheart and many other drunken complications that could have added to the full stature of this to make the people more worthy of dying, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. Empty shells just to move this along to the next scene. Bus Party to Hell really doesn't pick up steam until the third act after the desert cult starts to get really nutty with more boobs hanging out all over the place, covered in blood-some chick has a giant snake slithering all over her naked body, another one gets horny from killing one of the girls on the bus by having a snake go down her throat and then she cuts her open with a ceremonial blade. I guess this film is more fucked up than I realized. 

Darby and Lloyd are running through the desert from the cult I guess, and they are both dressed up like steampunk gypsy's. That's the only way I can describe it. Then Darby (Tara Reid) stabs Lloyd with this giant knife that she has and beheads him with some of the worst CGI I've ever seen. Later on, Darby gets run over by the bus, and is splattered all over the place only to see Lloyd's head again and he proceeds, in a comical sort of way, to chatter his teeth as if he's going to bite her or eat her or something to that effect. This flick has plenty of wacky and zany moments which throws the tone off a bit, and to be honest here-this thing became waaaaayyyy darker than I ever thought it would. I had a glimmer in my mind that there would be drunk people on a bus traveling somewhere while they, what else, party-but the whole cult angle was cool and kind of stupid at the same time. It might have been better if it was a singular person or character trying to kill them or lure them off the bus into a sort of cannibal situation or Texas Chainsaw scenario-I think something like that would have been better because it would have felt more real than some fantastical cult that has black magic or some shit. And of course, the "bus driver" is absolutely bonkers and the main people on the bus strip her down to try to find the bus keys to get the hell out of there, but her body is completely covered in tattoo's that come to life after they kill her. And yes, her eyes get ridiculously wide and you can see the tops of them so that just automatically means she is fucking nuts.

So was Lloyd a gypsy, steampunk kind of guy?

Yeah, this chick has a penis.

Starting this party off right with boobies!

I'm calling it early-the redhead is a lesbo.

I love photography.

Mummies Alive!

"My gift is my dick".

This dude with the horrible overbite is a fucking square.

When did this turn into Mad Max all of a sudden?

Didn't one of you have a gun? Get it and start blasting!

That is the loudest tie I've ever seen.

I thought she'd be into it-since she's gay and all.

This Mad Max cult is freaking weird.

"Okay, who's Jewish?"

Black metal definitely wasn't out of the question here.

Shut up and stick it in her already!

Zits and zombies, Bus Party to Hell is a treat if you're in the mood for it. There is a ton of nudity, violence, gore and really dark occult shit here to be taken in. It honestly wasn't as fun as I thought it was going to be, but I didn't completely hate it either. It wore out it's welcome pretty much around the time you here everyone in the cult chant "bring out the chosen one" for the five-millionth time, and what do you know-the chosen one is one of the girls on the party bus that's a virgin. Yay-my horror life is finally complete. Yeah, this does lean hard in a few spots with clichés, but overall as I stated earlier-this a hard purgatory flick. I think you're going to sit through this once and never have any desire to go through this ever again. I've been on party buses before and they were way more fun and entertaining that what you have here. Tara Reid should just stick to the Sharknado movies or do another American Pie-keep it nice and warm for the rest of us. I'll make sure to never drive through the desert ever again. Especially with some psychotic blonde that has tattoo's of snakes and spiders and monitor's all over her body. Yuck. 

Terror At Blood Fart Lake

 

Sometimes when I add a movie to my list to be reviewed for the year, I do it kind of the old school, video store way-by way of the cover art or the title. I added Terror At Blood Fart Lake to my list for this year of 2023 because my brother Mike and I randomly ran across it awhile ago on Tubi, and the title made us both laugh. The cover art looks painfully stupid, but the actual film itself has to be better than what's portrayed up front, right? Yeah, umm.... yeah. I'm going to give myself a minute to rub the anger and tension out of my eyes before I can even begin to figure out where I'm going to start with this allergen-induced cancer because I truly don't know where to even acknowledge that I heard the track gun pull from. Here's how low we're going with Terror At Blood Fart Lake-okay, are you ready? Anytime during the runtime of this hot pile of rhino snot that my body or mind found a distraction from, I just went for it. I had to take a dump with about thirty minutes left of this half-witted bowl of vomit soup, so I just let the movie play while I relieved myself. I didn't miss a damn thing in those 5-10 minutes. My mind also wandered into watching random clips of Lucy Hale in various videos on YouTube, which led me to also missing another 5-10 minutes because I ended up pulling the pud to my celeb crush with this fucking bullshit still playing in the background. You see where I'm going with this? Terror At Blood Fart Lake made me kind of wish that I actually was physically able to fart blood because that would have been a much more enjoyable proceed to deal with than sitting through this stream of mental illness ever again. I would put this on the grand pedestal of the absolute champions of shit shows I've already endured in the past, such as Greetings, Blown, Most Likely To Die, and the almighty human waste stain in the center of my underwear known as Curse On Blanchard Hill. Fuck all of those throat disease mouth pieces, and fuck Terror On Blood Fart Lake as well. You wanted the best, you got the best.

All I can muster about whatever you want to call a plot here is a bunch of the ugliest motherfuckers I've ever seen decide to drive to some cabin along the river bank of Blood Fart Lake. The entire movie keeps teasing you about this assclown named "Hambone" that you only see at the very beginning when this tirade opens, he's talking on the phone about getting pussy or having some girls come to his cabin or whatever the fuck, and he talks in the third person about how "Hambone is never going to die" and "Hambone gets all the bitches" and stupid shit like that. After that though, you never see this douchebag again, and everyone for the rest of this crap-circus keeps talking about him like he's going to show up at some point, and maybe he did and was killed by the scarecrow killer when I was taking a sweet dump or pleasuring myself to said celeb videos when I wasn't even watching this thing-and to be completely honest, I don't fucking care. I hate this goddamn movie. In between all of that non-sense, some fruity guy (who isn't gay somehow) is already at the cabin with a flamingo on a stick named Caspian, and he is the absolute worst. The level of annoyance and stupidity from this character was beyond where my maxed out needle could ever reach for me wanting to stab someone in the face, and if I could have jumped into my 4k television to flesh out such an act, I most certainly would have. The absolute only saving grace for Terror At Blood Fart Lake is the kind of sexy Ashley Sawyer. And that's really not saying much here. My God is this year over yet-nope. Not even half way. 

You're as square as a rhombus if your nickname is "Hambone".

Stop talking in third person, "Hamdick".

How are you only going to put $5 worth of gas in the car when you know you're going to be driving through a gigantic forest.

At least there's a Bad Taste decal in the window of their car.

"Do you know the dark arts and listen to Evanescence?"

I wish I had a power mullet and a trucker hat that said "sugar daddy" on it.

Man, Fright Rags must have really went downhill if this is the guy that owns them.

"If you think you're dark, I poop from my dick tip."

Ashley Sawyer is pretty damn attractive.

What the hell happened to this Hambone loser? Is he ever going to show up?

The scarecrow killer is finally here to do some killing and blood farting.

I'd let Ashley Sawyer in my room while I'm whacking it too.

 As you can see zits and zombies, Terror At Blood Fart Lake is fucking abysmal. This is the grade that I know I'll run into at some point whether I like it or not. I hated every second of it and basically after the first couple of minutes when Hambone's stupid ass is finally off the screen, I knew then what I know now-so far, this is at the top of my worst of the year list. I'm calling it right here and right now that this is going to be number one, but you never know-something else on my list for the year may shine even duller and shittier than this thing did, and I have been surprised before. I really wanted to sit through the entire thing with no breaks or shifts in concentration because that's what I do to get as much out of the experience as I can before I sit here and write something, and even with all of the film endurance I've built up over the years with the likes of the dung beetles I mentioned earlier, Terror At Blood Fart Lake still managed to get me to partake in other distractions that I usually put off until the appropriate times. This entry is chock full of the worst music and horror movie references that are so poorly timed along with the fact that there's just way to many of them that I honestly don't even recall any of them. Just steer clear of this one, friends-and release a nice, bloody fart under the covers while your other half is sleeping. Instead of a "Dutch Oven" what would that be called? "Cherry Pie in the Oven"? I don't know. You think of something.

Night Trap: The Movie

 

I have fond memories of watching my dad play Night Trap on the Sega CD when I was in elementary school, and I barely recall him ever finishing it. Maybe he did when I wasn't around or when I was sleeping or something, but sitting here taking in the "film cut" version or whatever you want to call it was wholly satisfying so I could in some way relive what I could remember of this from the early 90's, as well as actually being able to see footage I know I've never seen before like Danny getting drilled in the neck and captured by the Augers. If this situation was really real and you had weirdo's coming out of every corner of the house to try and wrap that blood-drill thingy around your neck, you'd probably scream, kick an Auger in the nuts (if they didn't fall off already) and yell into the camera like Dana Plato does to see what the people at the control panel are doing or not doing. Namely you, the one playing the game and controlling everything. The way that the film version of Night Trap was edited is in the best way it honestly probably could have been, even with the bad ending where what happens is probably what you're thinking it is. I'm not going to spoil it in case you've never seen this movie version or have never played the game, but whatever you think it could be, it probably is. I just have to point out the obvious and state that this could have easily been a shitty vampire flick from the early to mid 80's that was in theaters and made decent sales on VHS back then, and I know for sure that that was the entire point of a game like Night Trap-to bring in really cute, innocent girls that want to have a good time over the weekend at some lakeside winery, a vampiric family that owns it wants their blood, and one of them gets killed in her nightie. What the hell more could you ask for? For lousy politicians to be dickheads and to try to ban this game and create the ESRB label on video games as a censorship method because "people shouldn't be consuming this kind of stuff". What a bunch of fucking losers.

Dana Plato plays Kelly who is an undercover agent for S.C.A.T. who has been monitoring this lakeside winery for quite sometime now because of constant reports that kids are going missing around that area and around that property. Somehow or another (it's never explained) S.C.A.T. has booby trapped the entire place with cameras to see every nook and cranny of what's happening in the place at all times, and the vampire family that runs it has also laced the house with various bizarro traps to capture randoms that are going to be spending the night or are just there to have a taste and buy a bottle of their goods from the vineyard. Augers are there too because they are hungry and need more blood to make the final transformation into full vampires instead of just stumbling around like drunken sailors and letting the flesh rot right off of their bodies-which is why they're dressed the way they are, of course. Kelly and the S.C.A.T. team are somehow able to give you complete control of the cameras and the traps to capture the Augers and the members of the vampire family before they capture the girls that are staying there on this particular weekend, and if you fuck up, that's it. They're all vampire food. I wouldn't even want to control any of that crap-I would just want to get in bed with Ashley and steal one of Weird Eddie's laser guns to blast them all into oblivion. Now that would be an amazing weekend. 

The traps in this house are hilarious.

"There's no escape, my little plum!"

Switch me over to the lake house winery.

There's already some Augers-get'em!

Yeah Tony, start doing your job.

It's going to be a good time when the head vampires name is Victor.

Sarah's got green eyes.

There goes an Auger!

Commando in the house!

Well, he's vampire food.

The infamous "tennis racket as a guitar" scene.

If your father collects weird things, that's definitely something weird for him to collect.

How could ice cream with crushed cookies in it possibly be gross?

Tony wears sunglasses at night.

Looks like Mike is vampire food too.

Jeff got to taste Cindy, first hand.

Zits and zombies, the film version of Night Trap is a fantastically cheesy time. It kind of makes me wish this actually was a long lost, full blown crappy horror flick from the 80's because this would have been a gem that easily would have made it to blu-ray by now, and I certainly would have a copy of it. No shame here. Just nostalgia, Dana Plato, Lisa getting drilled in the neck while she's wearing her nightie and noticing after all of this time that the father vampire here drinks blood out of a wine glass instead of, well, wine. That's what happens with older material like this that gets remastered and put back out into the universe-you notice little things like that that were covered up by the pixelated grain of the Sega CD in the early 90's, and now we can all experience it in glorious hi-def to relive the magic and make fun of it all the same. I'm glad that this piece has made it again to the PS4, Switch, PC and other platforms because when this was first released, it was a historical monument in gaming at the time, and we got a ratings board out if for video games. How fucking stupid. If it weren't for Mortal Kombat, Doom and Night Trap, kids under 18 would still be able to buy whatever games they wanted and there would be no consequences. C'mon, you really think that the ESRB steered people away from buying M-rated games from their kids? Maybe some, but it probably made them want to play them even more. Night Trap is tame compared to the other two, and they're all great, classic game staples today. I hate the government. Now it's time to sing along with the theme song one last time as Megan uses a tennis racket as a guitar. The 80's and 90's were the best. 

Blood Pageant

 

There's two things that caught my eye when I first stumbled across Blood Pageant-Beverley Mitchell's name is emblazoned into the left corner of the poster art and Snoop doing his thang front and center. Now, there have been plenty of horror flicks starring the Doggfather in the past (and honestly I've never seen any of them) but he's just such a chill, lax guy that he had to bring something cool and smooth to the proceedings, right? Well, in his own way he did here and it did up the entertainment value greatly because even though he really isn't in it all that much, his signature laid back prose took some of the wrinkles and bumps out of what otherwise could have been one helluva boring two hours. Yeah, Blood Pageant clocks in at damn near 120 minutes and it's one of those long-stretched pieces where I was pleasantly surprised at how well it flowed and how quickly that time actually flew by. Normally I wince at a film that's any longer than the 80-90 mark because you really have to keep the audience sucked in in order to make things happen and for it to be worth the experience. Was Blood Pageant worth the experience? I would say that it was for many reasons, even though at the same time I would argue that this is also a purgatory flick. My favorite girl here was Amy (because she's just a total hottie and she looks very similar to Lucy Hale, which I have a massive crush on) because she is the main focal point with the witchcraft and seeking guidance from Liz who is a descendant of some cult that has survived from the Salem Witch trial days. I absolutely hate reality t.v. and this film proved to me why even more that it's a plague on entertainment and needs to be eradicated with the utmost aggression. Snooty, snotty and uppity bitches are front and center as usual in this kind of environment, and Amy wants to be a part of it for whatever reason, so she joins the next season of the American Dream reality show. Which isn't real at all. The black magic is, however. Chants, incantations and hexagrams all make an appearance here to round things out. They wanted it to be real-here it is.

Amy finds Liz online and goes to her for guidance and to have a tarot card reading, only to have her do some voodoo-witchcraft business on her and to give her a pendant that basically possesses her gradually. Liz also shows her how to construct a "spirit board" of sorts where during the filming of the show, Amy takes photos of everyone with a Fujifilm Instax (I know, the photography nerd in me notices these things) and plasters their photos on there so she can write messages around them and cast spells on them to eventually end up being the new winner on American Dream. When she writes "choke on your words" around the photo of Chloe that she took, she chokes on a strawberry and dies. I don't know how they could have literally conveyed that she choked on actual words, so a strawberry is good enough I suppose. The other one that stood out to me was that she drew a heart around the photo of one of the guys' photos that she took, and when she wakes up the next morning after having some sexy time with him, his heart is actually laying on the pillow next to her in bed with his body nowhere to be found. As cheap and as shitty as that scene is, I found it funny and a little to on the nose simultaneously, which for me, added to the enjoyment value. The other thing that added value to this otherwise mediocrely produced grind-fest is the fact that you get to see Amy in a bikini. Now that's what I'm talking about. And I know Snoop would agree.

The universe does answer-you just have to pay attention.

Amy looks very similar to Lucy Hale. I'm into it.

I didn't know life coaches practiced witchcraft.

Snoop!

God, this American Dream show is just as shitty as the real talent shows that we have on t.v.

Being filmed behind the scenes is an invasion of privacy? Yeah... you don't know the half of it.

Barry is going to do some "editing".

There's no "reality" in "reality t.v." I figured that out a long time ago.

"Gluten free? How can I cook food for people that can't eat food?"

Sounded like Deicide came out of your radio!

Damn, when was the last time I saw Beverley Mitchell in anything?

Of course your show is going to shit-it's a reality show.

Fabiano is a little to fruity.

This specific fight is exactly why I'm not into religion.

I completely forgot to even mention the fact that Stephen Baldwin is in here as a priest zits and zombies. The very second he stepped into frame, I actually started laughing because it was unexpected and there's no way that any of the Baldwin brothers could be construed as a man of the cloth. But he did a damn good job taking the role seriously (or as serious as he could in this kind of a setting) talking down Crystal as she needed help from The Lord to combat what is going on behind the scenes of American Dream and what was going on with Amy personally. I really wasn't expecting there to be a heavy handed layer to do with religion in this flick as it trudged on, but by the end, I was actually okay with it. It added a depth to Blood Pageant that it needed for it to work as a whole, because without it it would have been the worst two hours of my life. If I ever bother sitting through this ever again, it will be because I get to see Amy in a bikini and to hang out with the Doggfather for a while. Blood Pageant? More like a run-of-the-mill reality show. A crappy, thinly-budgeted satanic one. Thanks, Liz.  

Weenie Roast Massacre

 

Many years ago before I even started Cinema Slayer, I attempted to watch Weenie Roast Massacre on an app on the Roku titled Crackle. It didn't go so well and I made it through the first five minutes right about the time when Marty tries to catch a pass for a football team scout that results in him missing the ball completely and hits his head on the side of the propane grill where wieners and burgers are being cooked. I promptly shut this piece of filth off and did something else. I don't remember what that something else was, but it had nothing to do with another movie or anything relevant. I probably just went to bed at that point. Many, many years have passed since that particular night (I honestly think it was a solid decade ago now) and I completely forgot that Weenie Roast Massacre even existed until recently. I was looking for some cancer to absorb on Tubi one night before going to bed, and there it was-this film was promptly staring me in the face in the horror section that they have setup at the moment, and I added it on my list right away to give it a possible second chance so I could actually write something on here for it. I should have just buried the idea. Weenie Roast Massacre fucking sucks. If you enjoy aerial shit-shows such as Camp Blood 4, Curse on Blanchard Hill, Blown or Greetings, then you'll fucking love this. Now that I've sat through this entire romp of excruciatingly boring medical malpractice, there is no way in hell that it's not ending up on my worst list for the year. My wife and I had Sonic for lunch yesterday and the brain freeze that I experienced from the slushy I purchased didn't even hurt as much as sitting through this bacterially infected sinus drainage. You know, I personally realized a long time ago that I have the stomach, the will, and the mental fortitude to be able to make it to the final credit roll of these kinds of psychological acts of violence, and by now I feel like I'm almost indestructible at this point in regards to swimming to the bottom of the barrel. The water pressure has little to no effect on me, and I still haven't quite figured out if this is wholly a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, if you're reading this, partake in the festivities here at your own risk. The meds you have to take beforehand may not help you.

Marty is the weirdest and most awkward star football player I've ever seen because 99% of the time, young football players that are in high school and college are arrogant, self-absorbed assholes that think they're better than everyone because of said activities. In reality, they're sad sacks of dogshit that enjoy wearing tights and chasing a ball laced up with pieces of pigskin. He, on the other hand, is weird around girls, doesn't want to be in social situations and somehow doubles as the best of whatever the fuck position he plays (I don't watch sports) on his team and is being scouted to be on some college team or pro team or whatever. It doesn't matter here because the only thing I was looking for was the possibility of cute topless girls and an actual full blown massacre during a weenie roast. Well, my weenie was roasted alright because the "massacre" doesn't really start until there's probably about fifteen or twenty minutes left of this mud-pit drag course and you really have to trudge and wade through the banality of this entry to get to the good stuff. And unfortunately, when you finally do, the good stuff isn't even that great. There's one really cool kill that has a lot of gore and the rest is just half-assed, off screen bullshit that anyone with working and/or colorblind eyes could see from fourteen miles away. All the way back in the first act could you see this shit happen, and I wasn't surprised one bit. Not at all. There's also a bunch of side gristle here that just pads the fat on like some depressed fat chick that can't stop fucking eating like some loser that plays a 12 string acoustic who writes some of the lamest songs ever, which in turn nets him to steal one of the other football players' girlfriends... I don't know. And the news reporter that's in here is some annoying bloated guy in a suit that talks heavily from the back of his throat and nose cavity and wears a clip-on tie. Such high production values were employed here. 

Nice use of ketchup as blood.

Wow, what a boring, lame and shitty weenie roast.

Being a bookworm is so much more fulfilling than being a jock.

Ice cold beer while you're driving? It'll be some ice cold times when you get a DUI as well.

You're going away to college? Boo-hoo. Marty will find a better chick somewhere else anyway. I would.

Natural Ice-you may as well be drinking piss in a can.

"Fucker!" "I think I will!!"

Jason's a loser and his girlfriend is a four at best. I'd be ready to get tanked as well.

Sweet, someone got ripped in half. Finally, something may or may not happen in this damn movie.

Ooh, a scary transition shot of a lake.

Yay, two guys with zero character development just got stabbed.

So, your coach is dead and you're going to keep going with the shit weekend activities anyway. You even go so far as to say "fuck him" to one of your teammates. What a great guy.

"I'll order some food-which would you prefer? Cheese sticks or poppers? Hold that thought-I need to poop on it."

Zits and zombies, Weenie Roast Massacre is such a massive waste of your time and energy. Having an actual weenie roast in your backyard with family and friends would be a great time as you would be surrounded by people you actually like and care about versus a bunch of clowns on a sports team that only give a shit about the glory of that, drinking and hanging out with some of the ugliest chicks I've seen in one of these kinds of flicks in quite awhile. There's usually one that sort of makes me pay attention to them looks-wise during the duration of a fecal-flinging offering, but here there's nothing of quality. At all. Weenie Roast Massacre is seriously one where nothing matters-the main character doesn't matter, the girls don't matter, the secondary characters don't matter and the sfx don't matter. If there was music or a score, I barely remember any of it and it probably was trash. Hey Marty, your dad looks like Mario went on a bender with Luigi for a whole year and then decided to come home after his hair turned grey to piss off you and your sister and your mom because he wants to finally start acting like a real dad. Instead of Weenie Roast Massacre, I want to change the name of this to Face First Massacre so when I put my face on the grill at the beginning of this gorilla pile, it will be over before it even begins. To save you all. See, I'm a selfless person-I just need to be more creative and put the work in.                                                                                                                                                                                                   

The Prowler (blu-ray)

 

Alongside body horror and shitty SOV flicks, I'd have to say my other favorite stand-out genre would have to be slashers. There is an insane amount of them to go around and I'm willing to bet that you'd have to live multiple lifetimes to be able to sit through all of them. Unless you just sell your soul and dedicate all of your extra time to that one specific type, you'll never make it through every last one of them, and there's some that should just be left in the deserted dunes of forgetfulness. This is absolutely not the case with The Prowler. This is a slasher that really tries to do something unique and different with what it has to work with, and I believe that this has become a champion of the stalk and slash ilk. The special effects and gore here were handled by the now legendary Tom Savini, and the tone and punctuation is fierce. I think that if the red stuff was slopped together by anyone else but him, this would have been a completely different lump of clay that would have eventually hardened into a petrified rock of sadness and shit. But his work here is top notch per usual and only seeks to elevate this beyond the tension filled hide-a-thon that it is. There are a good amount of scenes where one of the girls or the cop Mark are trying to figure out where this fatigue wearing bastard is, stabbing people and ruining their lives in which the score drops out and leaves the viewer to their nerves and senses to reap the benefit of what's happening on screen. Also, I have to mention this (even though it's in my notes too) is that I want to know where this was bought at and what type it is-but the water heater in Pam and Sherry's dorm seems to have an infinite supply of hot water. Steam is billowing out of that bathroom while Sherry is showering, while her dumb boyfriend is there messing with her before he gets stabbed through the top of the head and is still accumulating the next morning after everything happens when Pam discovers both of them dead in the shower. And the water has still been running this whole time. Like, what the hell? I guess they really don't make quality of anything anymore like they used to. Especially water heaters.

After WWII while our men were sailing back into the docks to reconnect with their girlfriends, wives and families, one was particularly effected by a John letter that was sent to him that in turn made him harbor some dark feelings and hate. A couple making it in a gazebo during the welcome home festivities was mutilated by a bayonet blade and a pitchfork. Thirty something years later, some of the same killings start happening again during a college graduation dance and there is the typical free-spirit activities of getting slammed with booze and nudity. Of course, why would I say no to any of that-those are all staples of solid slasher flicks and The Prowler is no different. But what makes this one different is the fact that the killer stands out with the whole military-camo outfit going on (that even covers his whole head and face) and the scenes I mentioned earlier that have very great layers of tension and intensity. Most slashers have that too to push the pace along, but The Prowler is so strong with it that you get sucked into it without even noticing and then once the camo killer raises his hand to slice or stab someone, it's already to late for you to even react to it besides sitting there with your pants all moist with sweat and urine. It's the perfect combination alongside some junk food to make this a midnight viewing after the spouse and kids start resting their pretty little heads because I'm sure they aren't going to want to see people getting blasted with 12 gauges or Lisa getting her neck slit in an inground pool. He's hiding in plain sight... because he's covered in camo. 

What the greatest generation did for us. Holy shit.

When a woman says they "want to be friends", it's over.

There's nothing wrong with sleeping on an old mattress in the basement.

For somebody, the war still isn't over.

Is it just me or or does this Mark guy's head seem so big that he looks like a bobblehead?

Otto looks like a simpleton version of Randy Quaid.

Hey Lisa, forget the nail polish-how's about you take that robe off instead?

That scene transition gives a whole new meaning to "let me cut your cake with my knife".

Mark really looks like a bobblehead dancing with Lisa.

Water heater level-infinite.

Here's your favorite WWII vet... The Prowler!

So there's an 80's version of Justin Long? That's pretty great!

What kind of people party in a basement? Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dwellers, perhaps?

 Zits and zombies, The Prowler is a top tier slasher film. You can't beat the tension and atmosphere that this pick provides, and this was my second viewing of it which made it even more enjoyable. There are some movies where they get better with every subsequent view, and I believe that The Prowler is one of them. The kills are grade-A, the backstory for why this guy is dressing the way he is and why he is doing what he is doing is definitely different compared to what most of these other kinds of entries contain. I can't think of many (or any) slashers at all where it involves a disgruntled war vet that went a little to nuts with his anger, PTSD and situation with his girl sending him a John letter saying that she wants to move on because she doesn't know if or when he's ever coming home. So out of those feelings with probably some jealousy sprinkled on top, he decides to stab and murder the college kids of the town he resided in after the war was over because if he can't have a solid relationship with his girl, no one else can have one either. Stab me in the shower with the really fucking hot water running and put a rose in my hand because The Prowler is more than a good one-it's a great one.   

Linnea Quigley's Horror Workout

 

When my brothers and I were growing up in the 80's and 90's, our mom was obsessed with those workout tapes of the time-Jane Fonda and Abs/Buns of Steel come to mind ferociously because those were in a constant loop, being ran by her in our VCR back then almost on a daily basis. The three of us would tease her about it all the time because we were kids and we just thought it was funny watching her do what the fitness people were doing on those said tapes. It's honestly kind of a bizarre memory that I never thought I would ever see any of those magnetic chunks ever again, and I have actually ran across the Buns of Steel and Abs of Steel tapes randomly quite a few times while thrifting for horror flicks and video games over the years. You would think that a horror or "scary" variation of such a thing would be cool to sit through, right? Have the top scream queen of the day lead an aerobics instruction for you to stretch and do the splits in your own living room so you can stay ultimately limber and firm in your body to combat being a lazy, fat slob while doing a Thriller-esque cardio dance with a bunch of random zombies by the side of an inground pool? Sounds like and awesome time, doesn't it? I really hate to say it, but it's not. Linnea Quigley's Horror Workout is a fucking stinker that any horror hound should avoid, even if you're on the lookout for rarities or curiosities from the late 80's and early 90's. I really like the idea of fear factored into a solid, blood pumping fitness regime hosted by a high class, well known scream queen from the 80's, but this was just put together for the novelty of it and to sell more stuff that starred Linnea in it. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, I just think that the execution was phenomenally terrible and sometimes being cheesy can go a little to far, and this is a prime example of that.

This piece starts off with Linnea rambling on for awhile about things that have happened to her in some of her movies (mostly Creepozoids and Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-A-Rama) which is hastily bookended by her starting to do some full body stretches as she's locked into the splits in the middle of the floor on some putrid orange carpeting. I have to say this because it's overbearing to me as a music nerd, but the music that was put together for this made me pray for my ears to suddenly quit working. The same keyboard melodies layered on top of the same percussion and treble lines over and over and over and over again will not stop playing as she is performing these stretches, and I literally almost lost it. I did end up turning the volume down because of this maddening display of audio torture (hell, I should have just muted it) because I think I would have eventually wanted to pull a Butthole Surfers and just shove pencils in my ears to stop the insanity. Linnea unfortunately goes on for quite awhile doing this until she decides to change clothes and goes for a random jog by a cemetery which is the cue for the dead to rise and to follow her to an inground pool that is just there for whatever reason. She insults all of them by pointing out how flabby and out of shape they are from laying in their graves for so long, and then they start dancing. More awful 80's synth music accompanies this and I was really hoping something stupid would happen like a zombie falling into the water or maybe one pushes Linnea into the water or something-anything-to break the weak flow of this thing to get the end already. There is a big lie to indulge in before the credits start-they promote the fact that they were going to do some kind of horror cooking film-thing or something that was never released with Linnea in a sexy apron putting a severed hand into a boiling pot of water. That honestly would have been a lot more fun.

Linnea is in the shower in pretty much every movie she's ever been in.

Eddie from Iron Maiden?

Aww, but giant mutant rats are fun.

Nothing wrong with a cat fight involving two hot blondes in short skirts.

Gotta stay in shape with a "nice, long, hard workout".

I'm going to be honest-I didn't think this was going to actually be a workout video.

Linnea sure is limber, isn't she?

I can stretch any muscle I want, Ms. Quigley.

The zombies want to go for a solid jog too!

Man, this is like the aerobics version of Thriller!

 I wonder if anyone actually worked out along with this tape back in the 90's?

Damn, I was really thinking that this slumber party was going to have Michelle Bauer in her underwear-or at all. 

Zits and zombies, Linnea Quigley's Horror Workout is a product of it's time. It has no relevance now what-so-ever, and should be taken as a curiosity piece because the novelty of this entry is pretty heavy handed. There is no way in hell something like this would be made today, and that's the only importance I can see of something like this being preserved for future time and space. To remind us of how lame sexual innuendos can be and about how this was a massive missed opportunity to have Brinke Stevens and Michelle Bauer in their nighties, prancing around at a slumber party, only to have Linnea stab them in the back or the throat with a giant machete. The girls that were in the slumber party were okay and nothing to really brag about (except for maybe Dee Dee) but beyond being novelly curious about what the horror or zombie version of a workout tape from 1990 would be like starring the top fear girl from the 80's, there's no real reason to even bother with this one. I'll just go watch Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-A-Rama again for the thousandth time-Michelle Bauer and Brinke Stevens are both nude in that one. Good fucking times. 

Deadly Dreams

 

Deadly Dreams is both deadly and dreamy because there are some beautiful things about it such as the fact that you get to see Juliette Cummins' boobs twice and there are some random, nice guns here and there through out. It gets dreamy though (fever-dreamy) because Alex has dreams and nightmares, dreams in dreams, dreams about dreams and dreams that lead to other dreams that seem real but aren't, and real happenings that seem like dreams-but they are-and then they turn out to be real. Jesus, this shit is exhausting. I don't know how this was accomplished, but by the end of this flick you really do have a solid resolve about Alex, his brother, Maggie and Danny and it all gets tied up quite nicely with a dark ending that you could see from miles away-and it doesn't detract from the impact or fulfillment. This is one helluva twisted setup with things spring-boarding off of Christmas Eve when some guy named Perkins randomly shows up at the Torme home while Alex's father is yelling at someone about a business deal over the phone, and proceeds to shoot both of his parents with a twelve gauge. Then Alex gets chased through the woods behind the house, only to have the wolf-masked hunter pointing his rifle at the side of his head and blows his mental state right into him waking up from these events presenting themselves as a dream. Or a nightmare. Which ever one you think it is. In the context of Deadly Dreams, they are both one and the same. The tone and presentation of this film made me feel like I needed to possibly see a professional because of all the nutty back and forth this thing puts you through, but like I said before, in the end, everything gets tied up real nice like and you get answers to your questions. Although, there are two that still didn't have a resolve-where was Jack at the beginning of the movie when their parent's were shot by Perkins and who actually is the dude wearing the wolf mask? Did I miss something? Were those things a part of Alex's dreamland too or did I tank really hard like Danny does during the course of this ride? I'm not entirely sure.

  It was honestly really cool to see Juliette Cummins in something else besides Slumber Party Massacre II because that's the only thing I've ever seen her in and every time I watch that one, I always have a thing for her. And the guitar player in the band. They're both hot. Anyways, her character of Maggie here starts off seeming to be a pretty honest and upfront girl about what she wants and who she is-until you find out she's not. I won't spoil it here, but on your first watch of Deadly Dreams, you might not pick it up right away, but her motives for everything are twisted and you can't help but wanting to stay away from her poisonous ass once things are revealed. Alex's brother is a controlling dick-wad as well and is constantly making fun of him for being a writer instead of just investing his inheritance money back into the family business so he can be a stiff loser like him in a suit and an ugly yellow power tie. They even actually discuss this in the film as biological brothers, and I wouldn't want to wear a suit and an ugly yellow power tie either. Fuck being a corporate monkey. Especially if you end up having dreams about a slaughtered deer in the bathtub with your name written in blood on the wall right above it. Y'all need Jesus. And some scotch. Or brandy.

Is this a Christmas horror flick in disguise?

What an awesome gun cabinet.

A joint always helps with shitty dreams. So does going on the computer and writing for awhile.

Were you really about to hit an intruder with a tiny, plastic, handheld clock?

He's right-you can't bullshit a bullshitter.

Being a writer is always a viable option. Don't be a fucking clown.

Alex hasn't been laid in the last ten years and he's 21. Wow.

She is pretty-and she's one of the girls from Slumber Party Massacre II.

Man, you sure do have a lot to write about.

"I jinx you, pig-bitch!"

Okay, Maggie got you a mounted deer head as an early birthday gift. Now let's get naked!

You know Alex, you could use all of these weird-ass dreams to write a book.

Pointing a rifle at a dude having dreams about a guy in a wolf mask hunting him down with a rifle as well is a real swell idea.

Now I'm wondering if Alex is doing all of this shit or is it really Perkins?

After you wake up from your nap zits and zombies, Deadly Dreams is dream-like insanity contained into an 80 minute avalanche of wolf masks, hunting rifles, rich assholes, Juliette Cummins' boobs and nightmares in dreams and dreams in nightmares. When everything starts piling up until the third act, it turns into a labyrinth of "is this real or a dream?" and you honestly don't know until the final minutes that reveal everything to you. I really recommend this flick and to be honest, going into it while I was writing stuff down for it, I thought I was going to hate it. But now that I've been hunted and shot down myself by some guy in hunting gear and a wolf mask, chances are I'm going to watch this again in the near future. Only this time, I'll be more prepared. Come at me, Jack. I'll wear your shitty yellow power tie only to rip it off right in your face and call you a jackass. Because you're a greedy loser. 

Frankenstein (1931)

 

Nothing, and I do mean nothing can compare to the level of classic that the original Frankenstein picture from Universal Studios drudges up. Good old Frank has been my favorite monster from this line of colorless framework for as far back as I can possibly remember, and stay in that position he shall for the rest of my pathetic days-and I still have a lot of them left. I've always had a solid and unbreakable connection with Frankenstein's monster because he's the ultimate outcast-prodded and led to his ultimate demise because he was misunderstood and mistreated for not fitting in and looking like a deformed mess. Going against the grain is the name of the game when it comes to our favorite zipper neck, and that's where my personal plane of existence has always resided-on the outside looking in. When it rains it pours and when you feel like no one loves you or no one cares, Frank is always there to soften the blow and to make everything feel balanced and real again. I really love watching these older kinds of horror pieces from the golden age of horror cinema (I really just love the black and white stock that was used during this time period) and even to this day almost 100 years later, the original Frankenstein flick is a damned masterpiece showing that playing God is always a terrible idea because once a man's body and brain are both dead, they need to stay that way. Nothing abby-normal here. But I like the energy, the psychoses, and the madness that Henry Frankenstein brings upon himself in this situation because he has to know what it feels like to be like God and he has to know if he actually can bring someone back to life-even after completely losing it and doing some sweet grave robbing to get the bodies and body parts he needs to finish his work. Only to have his own creation turn on him. Sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it? 

Things are all set in town for the Baron's son to get married, only to have him become obsessed with this experiment he has cooking to reanimate dead tissue. Or to bring back the dead. Whatever you want to call it. He started out with animals (just like a serial killer would) and graduated to trying to fry some dead human corpses via high voltage, to see if they would come back to life or to just keep rotting in the grave for all eternity. Sounds awesome, right? I mean, I'd be on board with it except I just wouldn't want to deal with Frank getting pissed and not understanding his emotional state, which leads him to wanting to rip everyone's head off in an attempt to make himself feel better and to eliminate the competition. That's the adrenaline and testosterone talking. Even after his nuts stopped working. At the end of all of this non-sense, I sympathize with him because of what he is-a being of the outer limits. No one understands him and they all just want to eradicate him because of how violent he could be, not even including how violent they could be too. A lynch mob seems hypocritical, especially when talking about my boy Frankenstein.

I have been warned that Frankenstein might horrify me.

For whom the bell tolls... time marches on.

Dr. Frankenstein and his pal Fritz are both ready to pounce.

What a couple of grave robbing sons of bitches.

Skeleton go bouncy-bouncy.

Don't be a jackass, Victor.

Henry Frankenstein is creating the most misunderstood monster. I am so proud.

Stop touching the man's experimental materials and just have a seat.

It's Alive!!

Man, Baron Von Frankenstein has a sweet pipe to take constant drags from.

Maybe there is another woman-I think her name might be Mary Jane.

Frankenstein's monster is a beautiful misfit.

I've always wanted a top hat and a monocle.

To the house of Frankenstein!

Young Frankenstein is getting married! Let's get trashed!!

Zits and zombies, by now if you proclaim yourself to be a down and dirty true horror fan and have never seen the original Frankenstein film, you need to re-think about yourself staking such high claims. This is a gold standard watermark for monster movies, let alone offerings in the fear department all together. Royalty in the highest regard when it comes to being a misfit part of society-and I don't think the crown gets any heavier. There's a lesson to be had here, and that's sometimes putting your nose in the wrong places at the wrong times could lead to catastrophic disasters. I know Frank didn't mean to do it, but when he accidentally drowned Maria-that was it. That was the final straw to be pulled from the stack that sent the entire town on a quest to burn down the windmill that he was hiding in out of his own fear of not really knowing what was going on or what he was doing. Frank was ultimately looking to love, to learn and to live again because Henry Frankenstein saw to it that he could. With some lightning. And some crazed science that worked somehow. Let me see if I could bring back a loved one myself after shouting It's Alive! at the top of my lungs after a terrible thunder storm. I guarantee it won't work. Alright Fritz, flip the switch. Everything is going to be alright.