tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7659916528407837572024-03-14T06:12:07.397-07:00Cinema SlayerFor fans of exquisite trash, low budget, B, SOV and gore horror. Acquiring the taste has never been easier. Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.comBlogger496125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-23249045619236869572023-04-16T14:41:00.001-07:002023-05-22T17:12:21.203-07:00Toolbox Murders 2<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVByvK4Di1pfod1f9sr7_8QM4fAbfPqEiof3tEOqtiJtnxdI9AR1qWFefXdEZCx43v0ym01VXweQSSrLVPFFHGC4D_wYtIwFWX2mQQr8Mx3Xbq07sGgbKFIbQJ0rYOVw1b6GJ-q72MtAhx_YxqcZALWWAe_oGCIhTLuC4BIjZt0bkZu-xmpT00eWj1Q/s1500/toolboxmurders2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1062" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVByvK4Di1pfod1f9sr7_8QM4fAbfPqEiof3tEOqtiJtnxdI9AR1qWFefXdEZCx43v0ym01VXweQSSrLVPFFHGC4D_wYtIwFWX2mQQr8Mx3Xbq07sGgbKFIbQJ0rYOVw1b6GJ-q72MtAhx_YxqcZALWWAe_oGCIhTLuC4BIjZt0bkZu-xmpT00eWj1Q/s320/toolboxmurders2.jpg" width="227"></a></div><br><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">I have to point out here at the beginning that I've never seen the original </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Toolbox Murders</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> or even the </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tobe Hooper</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> remake, so I have no legs to stand on when it comes to this possibly shitty sequel simply titled </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Toolbox Murders 2</span></i><b><span style="color: red;">. 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">fucking brutal</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Toolbox Murders 2</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Dahmer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> or </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Ed Gein</span></i><span style="color: red;">. 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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Ministry</span></i><span style="color: red;">/</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Prong</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Cannibal Corpse</span></i><span style="color: red;"> album cover (which, I mean, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Cannibal Corpse</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Starting off with a scalping. I'm sorry, a box cutter defacing.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">I have to say-I'm pretty impressed with this violent and gory stop motion in the intro here.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Okay, this bald dude needs to stop with the sexual fetishes.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Yo sista' be dead.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">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?</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">There's someone in that bag, isn't there? Yep.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Why stop at cutting off one leg when you could do both? That's just lazy.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Fuck that-don't eat one of the roaches.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">It's probably not the breakfast you think it is, it's probably dead people parts.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Yep, it's cannibal shit.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">There's the guy with the stupid hat.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">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.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Zits and zombies, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Toolbox Murders 2</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> is just here as a torture porn gore-fest to try and cash in on the original and remade name sake of </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Toolbox Murders</span></i><b><span style="color: red;">. 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Toolbox Murder</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Texas Chainsaw</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Toolbox Murders 2</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Put your hogging boots on because it's time to go fishin'. </span></b></span></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-74230888495019514942023-04-15T05:54:00.000-07:002023-04-15T05:54:17.757-07:00Bus Party to Hell<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioxtNwmAmXHnrBQSM6QgA3TnY1oi2MNnAWzYGXey5eCYdNEFxyllrAcNmsky1IAgrYetu-tc0yMOk9zUBuUixXmh5moZ4niwCgnptG-nS4TKZAnZx2Ae-veT2jIefZG10_T-7Aly8IGd1Psn9J6wJpTroHAI357itrhurs4eJN3pLzgDMmJYg-dEe0lw/s7200/buspartytohell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="7200" data-original-width="4800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioxtNwmAmXHnrBQSM6QgA3TnY1oi2MNnAWzYGXey5eCYdNEFxyllrAcNmsky1IAgrYetu-tc0yMOk9zUBuUixXmh5moZ4niwCgnptG-nS4TKZAnZx2Ae-veT2jIefZG10_T-7Aly8IGd1Psn9J6wJpTroHAI357itrhurs4eJN3pLzgDMmJYg-dEe0lw/s320/buspartytohell.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I do remember when </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bus Party to Hell</span></i><span style="color: red;"> was released back in 2017 and being mildly excited about it because it was yet another schlocky offering from the blonde nymph </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tara Reid</span></i><span style="color: red;">. She has been integral to pieces such as the </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Sharknado</span></i><span style="color: red;"> franchise, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Charlie's Farm</span></i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mummy Dearest</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bus Party to Hell</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Devanny Pinn</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bus Party to Hell</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">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 (</span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tara Reid</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">) 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Texas Chainsaw</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> 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.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>So was Lloyd a gypsy, steampunk kind of guy?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Yeah, this chick has a penis.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Starting this party off </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">right</span></i><span style="color: red;"> with </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">boobies</span></i><span style="color: red;">!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>I'm calling it early-the redhead is a lesbo.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>I love photography.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mummies Alive</span></i><span style="color: red;">!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>"My gift is my dick".</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>This dude with the horrible overbite is a fucking square.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">When did this turn into </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mad Max</span></i><span style="color: red;"> all of a sudden?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Didn't one of you have a gun? Get it and start blasting!</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>That is the loudest tie I've ever seen.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>I thought she'd be into it-since she's gay and all.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">This </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mad Max</span></i><span style="color: red;"> cult is freaking weird.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>"Okay, who's Jewish?"</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Black metal definitely wasn't out of the question here.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Shut up and stick it in her already!</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Zits and zombies, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bus Party to Hell</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tara Reid</span></i><span style="color: red;"> should just stick to the </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Sharknado</span></i><span style="color: red;"> movies or do another </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">American Pie</span></i><span style="color: red;">-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. </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-12009901919706667982023-04-09T05:18:00.000-07:002023-04-09T16:12:23.020-07:00Terror At Blood Fart Lake<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_xGoFhr60ci60RJJP4WJzj1JQV1KcDnB_FNxNIkYu7jMaB850Ax5oJmh3oNlrvw3V5GELoBYOzHBsEYAB44UUiDWGPryx8vPuMzjnlxpBTqIFJIqxN-MVoPj5XirGVsptHPgfV6Gnft1zJJ-o6d_Sf2ys_9Sm-JPW_LPiShiUCWhG188F521tnqv8Kg/s1420/bloodfartlake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1420" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_xGoFhr60ci60RJJP4WJzj1JQV1KcDnB_FNxNIkYu7jMaB850Ax5oJmh3oNlrvw3V5GELoBYOzHBsEYAB44UUiDWGPryx8vPuMzjnlxpBTqIFJIqxN-MVoPj5XirGVsptHPgfV6Gnft1zJJ-o6d_Sf2ys_9Sm-JPW_LPiShiUCWhG188F521tnqv8Kg/s320/bloodfartlake.jpg" width="225"></a></div><br><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Terror At Blood Fart Lake</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> to my list for this year of 2023 because my brother Mike and I randomly ran across it awhile ago on </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tubi</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Terror At Blood Fart Lake</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">-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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Lucy Hale </span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">in various videos on </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">YouTube</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, 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? </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Terror At Blood Fart Lake</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Greetings</span></i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blown</span></i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Most Likely To Die</span></i><span style="color: red;">, and the almighty human waste stain in the center of my underwear known as </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Curse On Blanchard Hill</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Fuck all of those throat disease mouth pieces, and fuck </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Terror On Blood Fart Lake</span></i><span style="color: red;"> as well. You wanted the best, you got the best.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">I don't fucking care</span></i><span style="color: red;">. </span><i><span style="color: #ffa400;">I hate this goddamn movie</span></i><span style="color: red;">. 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Terror At Blood Fart Lake</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">You're as square as a rhombus if your nickname is "Hambone".</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Stop talking in third person, "Hamdick".</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">At least there's a </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Taste</span></i><span style="color: red;"> decal in the window of their car.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"Do you know the dark arts and listen to</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;"> Evanescence</span></i><span style="color: red;">?"</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I wish I had a power mullet and a trucker hat that said "sugar daddy" on it.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Man, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Fright Rags</span></i><span style="color: red;"> must have really went downhill if this is the guy that owns them.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"If you think you're dark, I poop from my dick tip."</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Ashley Sawyer is pretty damn attractive.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">What the hell happened to this Hambone loser? Is he ever going to show up?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">The scarecrow killer is finally here to do some killing and blood farting.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I'd let Ashley Sawyer in my room while I'm whacking it too.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> As you can see zits and zombies, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Terror At Blood Fart Lake</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> 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, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Terror At Blood Fart Lake</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> 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.</b></span></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-75964140203111366362023-04-08T05:30:00.002-07:002023-04-09T05:28:34.851-07:00Night Trap: The Movie<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjj1n3sb3wXM0WkBJKcfNNdgpom8MJ3hmAyKRmJqlRf857fRBPwks_exfSJu7gQvTuSUV5-Hr9r9lbzhCGr_g_Atd9LgGEEMkbS2i4HaBPmGprldUrIc8conFSPBM9biAPCOYvTuZM9EyMXC8GgUZbdEuCOL2EDZupy29Jz1a6sjhNgmcJ20sTHoPkg/s678/nighttrap.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="678" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjj1n3sb3wXM0WkBJKcfNNdgpom8MJ3hmAyKRmJqlRf857fRBPwks_exfSJu7gQvTuSUV5-Hr9r9lbzhCGr_g_Atd9LgGEEMkbS2i4HaBPmGprldUrIc8conFSPBM9biAPCOYvTuZM9EyMXC8GgUZbdEuCOL2EDZupy29Jz1a6sjhNgmcJ20sTHoPkg/s320/nighttrap.jpg" width="236" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I have fond memories of watching my dad play </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Night Trap</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Dana Plato</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Night Trap</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Night Trap</span></i><span style="color: red;">-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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Dana Plato</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">that</span></i><span style="color: red;"> would be an amazing weekend. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">The traps in this house are hilarious.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"There's no escape, my little plum!"</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Switch me over to the lake house winery.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">There's already some Augers-get'em!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Yeah Tony, start doing your job.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">It's going to be a good time when the head vampires name is Victor.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Sarah's got green eyes.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">There goes an Auger!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Commando in the house!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Well, he's vampire food.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">The infamous "tennis racket as a guitar" scene.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">If your father collects weird things, that's definitely something weird for him to collect.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">How could ice cream with crushed cookies in it possibly be gross?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Tony wears sunglasses at night.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Looks like Mike is vampire food too.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Jeff got to taste Cindy, first hand.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Zits and zombies, the film version of </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Night Trap</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Dana Plato</span></i><span style="color: red;">, 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mortal Kombat</span></i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Doom</span></i><span style="color: red;"> and </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Night Trap</span></i><span style="color: red;">, 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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Night Trap</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-69679060027177314062023-04-02T04:06:00.000-07:002023-04-02T04:06:42.157-07:00Blood Pageant<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGLcyXlCXdxP-Ft4Ou2y1Y7CO0aVapYdmQiod2HjkhLrM1Ieya2DVWW391k4meStUnr0hPpnbET-yr9S6p5NdJovj5D5gE1GqWbcyDJrXtZ9NcwGd9X69_JDzvf7oZZLpCF6Nrcn-ckUjEdV8ZR6_xYk5MluwLf5_5TLplU7nmh7b6SeQWl5ZngUc_A/s1481/bloodpageant.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1481" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGLcyXlCXdxP-Ft4Ou2y1Y7CO0aVapYdmQiod2HjkhLrM1Ieya2DVWW391k4meStUnr0hPpnbET-yr9S6p5NdJovj5D5gE1GqWbcyDJrXtZ9NcwGd9X69_JDzvf7oZZLpCF6Nrcn-ckUjEdV8ZR6_xYk5MluwLf5_5TLplU7nmh7b6SeQWl5ZngUc_A/s320/bloodpageant.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">There's two things that caught my eye when I first stumbled across </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Pageant</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">-</span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Beverley Mitchell's</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> name is emblazoned into the left corner of the poster art and </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Snoop</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> doing his thang front and center. Now, there have been plenty of horror flicks starring the </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Doggfather </span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">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, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Pageant</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Pageant</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> 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</span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;"> Lucy Hale</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, which I have a </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">massive</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> 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.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">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</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;"> that's</span></i><span style="color: red;"> what I'm talking about. And I know </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Snoop</span></i><span style="color: red;"> would agree.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">The universe does answer-you just have to pay attention.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Amy looks very similar to </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Lucy Hale</span></i><span style="color: red;">. </span><i><u><span style="color: #fcff01;">I'm into it</span></u></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">I didn't know life coaches practiced witchcraft.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Snoop</span></i><span style="color: red;">!</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">God, this American Dream show is just as shitty as the real talent shows that we have on t.v.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Being filmed behind the scenes is an invasion of privacy? Yeah... you don't know the half of it.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Barry is going to do some "editing".</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">There's no "reality" in "reality t.v." I figured that out a long time ago.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">"Gluten free? How can I cook food for people that can't eat food?"</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Sounded like </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Deicide</span></i><span style="color: red;"> came out of your radio!</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Damn, when was the last time I saw </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Beverley Mitchell</span></i><span style="color: red;"> in anything?</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Of course your show is going to shit-it's a reality show.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">Fabiano is a little </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">to</span></i><span style="color: red;"> fruity.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">This specific fight is </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">exactly</span></i><span style="color: red;"> why I'm not into religion.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span><b><span style="color: red;">I completely forgot to even mention the fact that </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Stephen Baldwin</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Pageant</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Doggfather</span></i><span style="color: red;"> for a while. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Pageant</span></i><span style="color: red;">? More like a run-of-the-mill reality show. A crappy, thinly-budgeted satanic one. Thanks, Liz. </span></b></span></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-23085869394024552422023-03-26T05:45:00.000-07:002023-03-26T05:45:08.131-07:00Weenie Roast Massacre<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvT0Ky6gvHamlFIjJQkr8NjrWLYNBSkqRjj7OFO-x9iciCBkFoIfozymOyWhLEu8JmCTlLEqw9cFHB3MBqUK3__iD6Mhdao6fmEeQpnFE7bmysP1_f65eD_2CV0qJqMhR4g1Ow07wstYYNwvjhvFZpN45zLGpsA9EjYHZbaewGem1_7zptjfD2yWUg7w/s1491/weenieroastmassacre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1491" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvT0Ky6gvHamlFIjJQkr8NjrWLYNBSkqRjj7OFO-x9iciCBkFoIfozymOyWhLEu8JmCTlLEqw9cFHB3MBqUK3__iD6Mhdao6fmEeQpnFE7bmysP1_f65eD_2CV0qJqMhR4g1Ow07wstYYNwvjhvFZpN45zLGpsA9EjYHZbaewGem1_7zptjfD2yWUg7w/s320/weenieroastmassacre.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Many years ago before I even started </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Cinema Slayer</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, I attempted to watch </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Weenie Roast Massacre</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> on an app on the Roku titled </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Crackle</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">. 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Weenie Roast Massacre</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> even existed until recently. I was looking for some cancer to absorb on </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tubi</span></i><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Weenie Roast Massacre</span></i><span style="color: red;"> fucking sucks. If you enjoy aerial shit-shows such as </span></span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Camp Blood 4</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Curse on Blanchard Hill</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blown</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> or </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Greetings</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b>, 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 </b></span><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>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.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">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</span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;"> really</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> 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. </b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Nice use of ketchup as blood.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Wow, what a boring, lame and shitty weenie roast.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Being a bookworm is so much more fulfilling than being a jock.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Ice cold beer while you're driving? It'll be some ice cold times when you get a DUI as well.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>You're going away to college? Boo-hoo. Marty will find a better chick somewhere else anyway. I would.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Natural Ice</span></i><span style="color: red;">-you may as well be drinking piss in a can.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>"Fucker!" "I think I will!!"</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Jason's a loser and his girlfriend is a four at best. I'd be ready to get tanked as well.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">Sweet, someone got ripped in half. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Finally</span></i><span style="color: red;">, something may or may not happen in this damn movie.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Ooh, a scary transition shot of a lake.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Yay, two guys with zero character development just got stabbed.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>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.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>"I'll order some food-which would you prefer? Cheese sticks or poppers? Hold that thought-I need to poop on it."</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">Zits and zombies, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Weenie Roast Massacre</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Weenie Roast Massacre</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Weenie Roast Massacre</span></i><span style="color: red;">, I want to change the name of this to </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Face First Massacre</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span></b></span></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-50567541674871338992023-03-25T06:46:00.000-07:002023-03-25T06:46:23.608-07:00The Prowler (blu-ray)<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoK1T_fpqz0IAr5Os_lTZgbqDcoZa1FHfDE_6IzHzUYF_GfQh3LXmcRqbmmlmoB1YF4KzRJo9tD5H4WjyncAczshV7WpLjn6PlhfqOJstzUCztwefnoC5dQkevlTHpgMJflRJVU-I0y3cJ-uKheJpDFNTDppSiKYbWJIzT6F9mz_Kupnts2q3JGcqAKA/s1500/prowler.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoK1T_fpqz0IAr5Os_lTZgbqDcoZa1FHfDE_6IzHzUYF_GfQh3LXmcRqbmmlmoB1YF4KzRJo9tD5H4WjyncAczshV7WpLjn6PlhfqOJstzUCztwefnoC5dQkevlTHpgMJflRJVU-I0y3cJ-uKheJpDFNTDppSiKYbWJIzT6F9mz_Kupnts2q3JGcqAKA/s320/prowler.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">all</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Prowler</span></i><span style="color: red;">. 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tom Savini</span></i><span style="color: red;">, 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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">And the water has still been running this whole time</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Like, what the hell? I guess they really don't make quality of anything anymore like they used to. Especially water heaters.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Prowler</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Prowler</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">What the greatest generation did for us. Holy shit.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">When a woman says they "want to be friends", it's over.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">There's nothing wrong with sleeping on an old mattress in the basement.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">For somebody, the war still isn't over.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Is it just me or or does this Mark guy's head seem so big that he looks like a bobblehead?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Otto looks like a simpleton version of </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Randy Quaid</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Hey Lisa, forget the nail polish-how's about you take that robe off instead?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">That scene transition gives a whole new meaning to "let me cut your cake with my knife".</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Mark </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">really</span></i><span style="color: red;"> looks like a bobblehead dancing with Lisa.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Water heater level-infinite.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Here's your favorite WWII vet... </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Prowler</span></i><span style="color: red;">!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">So there's an 80's version of </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Justin Long</span></i><span style="color: red;">? That's pretty great!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">What kind of people party in a basement? Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dwellers, perhaps?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"> Zits and zombies, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Prowler</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Prowler</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Prowler</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is more than a good one-it's a great one. </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-30838714108577159222023-03-18T05:49:00.000-07:002023-03-18T05:49:24.553-07:00Linnea Quigley's Horror Workout<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-OctLok1qcigUn0wxv9gkW-4Ldcoqvq9KcpyYeysuAZiMPVNSdiIud8RvDwjLyHzo73ZeS9jjaPvqnli0aDQiE7koq85R1ox3dAyoTFkGaRLh3ZZ1nN1EyiolZMnbXQ4pqg9Peza1BIwJPOmG77ii3Bf5HqXRnfoNkYV8zcaEacX7yLVaMR3jVW5Sw/s854/lqhw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="854" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-OctLok1qcigUn0wxv9gkW-4Ldcoqvq9KcpyYeysuAZiMPVNSdiIud8RvDwjLyHzo73ZeS9jjaPvqnli0aDQiE7koq85R1ox3dAyoTFkGaRLh3ZZ1nN1EyiolZMnbXQ4pqg9Peza1BIwJPOmG77ii3Bf5HqXRnfoNkYV8zcaEacX7yLVaMR3jVW5Sw/s320/lqhw.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">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-</span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Jane Fonda</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> and </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Abs/Buns of Steel </span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Buns of Steel</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> and </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Abs of Steel</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Thriller</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">-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. </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Linnea Quigley's Horror Workout</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> 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.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">This piece starts off with Linnea rambling on for awhile about things that have happened to her in some of her movies (mostly </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Creepozoids</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> and </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-A-Rama</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">) 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Butthole Surfers</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> 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.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Linnea is in the shower in pretty much </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">every</span></i><span style="color: red;"> movie she's ever been in.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Eddie from </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Iron Maiden</span></i><span style="color: red;">?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Aww, but giant mutant rats are fun.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Nothing wrong with a cat fight involving two hot blondes in short skirts.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Gotta stay in shape with a "nice, long, hard workout".</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>I'm going to be honest-I didn't think this was going to actually be a workout video.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Linnea sure is limber, isn't she?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>I can stretch any muscle I want, Ms. Quigley.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>The zombies want to go for a solid jog too!</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Man, this is like the aerobics version of</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;"> Thriller</span></i><span style="color: red;">!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b> I wonder if anyone actually worked out along with this tape back in the 90's?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Damn, I was really thinking that this slumber party was going to have </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Michelle Bauer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> in her underwear-or at all. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Zits and zombies, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Linnea Quigley's Horror Workout</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Brinke Stevens</span></i><span style="color: red;"> and </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Michelle Bauer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> in their nighties, prancing around at a slumber party, only to have Linnea stab them in the back or the throat with a giant </span></b><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-A-Rama</span></i><span style="color: red;"> again for the thousandth time-</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Michelle Bauer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> and </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Brinke Stevens</span></i><span style="color: red;"> are both nude in that one. Good fucking times. </span></b></span></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-78838329645887712352023-03-14T06:16:00.001-07:002023-03-24T08:41:37.992-07:00Deadly Dreams<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQW6J_-KV0iMbJ0Rj3ho4TffzDwBsjS-RVqodaNUS5E87ydgGXb8gUk5ILOgTkJsulQeZ9QlBfiilrthL0dboksfYey9hlOAD-Z-qFgIKE-tXs2B82CFGW2AApV8oggQaIIUh8epv3B-F5RgpdO7IKPizJdYz4aayKP6reiq7kgv_vo6JbyY5MCZVILQ/s926/deadlydreams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="926" data-original-width="625" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQW6J_-KV0iMbJ0Rj3ho4TffzDwBsjS-RVqodaNUS5E87ydgGXb8gUk5ILOgTkJsulQeZ9QlBfiilrthL0dboksfYey9hlOAD-Z-qFgIKE-tXs2B82CFGW2AApV8oggQaIIUh8epv3B-F5RgpdO7IKPizJdYz4aayKP6reiq7kgv_vo6JbyY5MCZVILQ/s320/deadlydreams.jpg" width="216"></a></div><br><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Deadly Dreams</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> is both deadly and dreamy because there are some beautiful things about it such as the fact that you get to see </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Juliette Cummins</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">' boobs twice and there are some random, nice guns here and there through out. It gets dreamy though (</span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">fever</span></i><b><span style="color: red;">-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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Deadly Dreams</span></i><span style="color: red;">, 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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> It was honestly really cool to see </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Juliette Cummins</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> in something else besides </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Slumber Party Massacre II</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Deadly Dreams</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b>, 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.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Is this a Christmas horror flick in disguise?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>What an awesome gun cabinet.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>A joint always helps with shitty dreams. So does going on the computer and writing for awhile.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Were you really about to hit an intruder with a tiny, plastic, handheld clock?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>He's right-you can't bullshit a bullshitter.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Being a writer is always a viable option. Don't be a fucking clown.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Alex hasn't been laid in the last ten years and he's 21. Wow.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">She is pretty-and she's one of the girls from </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Slumber Party Massacre II</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Man, you sure do have a lot to write about.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"I jinx you, pig-bitch!"</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Okay, Maggie got you a mounted deer head as an early birthday gift. Now let's get naked!</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>You know Alex, you could use all of these weird-ass dreams to write a book.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>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.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Now I'm wondering if Alex is doing all of this shit or is it really Perkins?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">After you wake up from your nap zits and zombies, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Deadly Dreams</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is dream-like insanity contained into an 80 minute avalanche of wolf masks, hunting rifles, rich assholes, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Juliette Cummins</span></i><span style="color: red;">' 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. </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-91928551834501108152023-03-12T05:42:00.000-07:002023-03-12T05:42:21.983-07:00Frankenstein (1931)<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nKsdYpixnp3SjzrwsjYKiF9PTyjRqD4VQPCrMFtMK7hyN2R06AI3PqYh4bAHSYBxenUBGO4SFZi4yx5jP9e5q-D1JeUx_gciDkTnD1Bh_vTvUAnnwcTWuzqqp6Jfnr7A_4fUn2GmeQ_0EgEQf1_stAdEMS5oUNcRZT3cCJsygzxWd0c1Qy-KOTyr-g/s1060/frankensteinposter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1060" data-original-width="709" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nKsdYpixnp3SjzrwsjYKiF9PTyjRqD4VQPCrMFtMK7hyN2R06AI3PqYh4bAHSYBxenUBGO4SFZi4yx5jP9e5q-D1JeUx_gciDkTnD1Bh_vTvUAnnwcTWuzqqp6Jfnr7A_4fUn2GmeQ_0EgEQf1_stAdEMS5oUNcRZT3cCJsygzxWd0c1Qy-KOTyr-g/s320/frankensteinposter.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Nothing, and I do mean </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">nothing</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> can compare to the level of classic that the original </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Frankenstein</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> picture from </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Universal Studios</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Frankenstein</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> 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? </b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">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. </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Even after </span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">he</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> could be, not even including how violent </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">they</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> could be too. A lynch mob seems hypocritical, especially when talking about my boy </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Frankenstein</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I have been warned that</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;"> Frankenstein</span></i><span style="color: red;"> might horrify me.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">For whom the bell tolls... time marches on.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Dr. Frankenstein and his pal Fritz are both ready to pounce.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">What a couple of grave robbing sons of bitches.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Skeleton go bouncy-bouncy.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Don't be a jackass, Victor.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Henry Frankenstein is creating the most misunderstood monster. I am so proud.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Stop touching the man's experimental materials and just </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">have a seat</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">It's Alive</span></i><span style="color: red;">!!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Man, Baron Von Frankenstein has a sweet pipe to take constant drags from.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Maybe there is another woman-I think her name might be Mary Jane.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Frankenstein's monster is a beautiful misfit.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>I've always wanted a top hat and a monocle.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">To the house of </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Frankenstein</span></i><span style="color: red;">!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Young Frankenstein is getting married! Let's get trashed!!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Zits and zombies, by now if you proclaim yourself to be a down and dirty true horror fan and have never seen the original </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Frankenstein</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">It's Alive</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b>! 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.</b></span></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-42403946773599229322023-03-11T06:17:00.000-08:002023-03-11T06:17:28.351-08:00Rad (Mondo blu-ray)<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgic5tfVFY8TdK8fBbOcxqsoEnyBVdgJ9Wx8fPqDYOsMtq2va_3jn_tUPohc1-kK9t9LFbmeLXVi2gfpYY02NXnJk0Du-3LJ1cdmmwTU8FKA1Jj2JixHg2pUfXNSr-7ESB8U5dQ0Q4gKRJtM11VmKYqDeaFca9kqCocbRKkRM7ywOxsDyJufo5yDrJbjw/s1944/rad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="1550" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgic5tfVFY8TdK8fBbOcxqsoEnyBVdgJ9Wx8fPqDYOsMtq2va_3jn_tUPohc1-kK9t9LFbmeLXVi2gfpYY02NXnJk0Du-3LJ1cdmmwTU8FKA1Jj2JixHg2pUfXNSr-7ESB8U5dQ0Q4gKRJtM11VmKYqDeaFca9kqCocbRKkRM7ywOxsDyJufo5yDrJbjw/s320/rad.jpg" width="255" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Rad</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is an exceptional cult flick, and I love it dearly because of it's nostalgia factor and it's positive message. I honestly only saw a part of this movie when I was at a friends house one time way back in junior high randomly on t.v. because it was one of those situations where we were flipping channels and to us at the time it looked stupid, so we kept hunting for something to watch. I never had any interest in anything even remotely to do with biking or BMX at all when I was growing up, and that served to me even more to not pay any attention to a film like </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Rad</span></i><span style="color: red;">. This was one where I was intrigued by it many, many years later as I became older because of the whole "underdog story" element held within it's grasp, and even though I've never been particularly a massive 80's music fan, the soundtrack here is so killer-perfect that I would honestly grab it on vinyl if the chance arose. When you've got thunder in your heart and you see an opportunity to go ass sliding with the girl of your dreams, you know things are going your way. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mondo</span></i><span style="color: red;"> and </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mill Creek</span></i><span style="color: red;"> did an excellent job restoring this on blu-ray, and I'm glad that I was able to get it this time because the first time it was put out on blu-ray and 4k was by </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Vinegar Syndrome</span></i><span style="color: red;">, and I missed it by a mile because, once again, I had no interest in it. I kept seeing the cover art along with people talking online about how this was an amazing movie they used to watch from their childhood's and some energy for me started to build up for it. Then I decided I needed this in my collection when my favorite movie reviewer on YouTube-Cecil of </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Goodbadflicks</span></i><span style="color: red;">-had done an episode about </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Rad</span></i><span style="color: red;"> way back in his early days. I revisited his video about it and then I knew I had to have it. Luckily somehow, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mondo</span></i><span style="color: red;"> got together with </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mill Creek</span></i><span style="color: red;"> to do a second run of this with their own print on blu-ray in a steelbook, and I pre-ordered that shit immediately. I had no choice.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Cru Jones is your average dude in high school that's looking to get with a specific girl, just doing his thang-practicing his bike tricks and hanging out with his gang. He also works at a bakery/deli where his boss really looks like a slovenly version of </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Seth Rogan</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">. Hell, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Seth Rogan</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> looks like a slovenly version of </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Seth Rogan</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> if we're completely honest. Duke Best comes to town with his lackey's to promote the Helltrack which is the BMX competition where the winner gets $100,000 and a sweet, sweet red corvette. But, like all movies like this, Duke Best is a greedy douche-baggins of a businessman that wants nothing more than his own guy, Bart Taylor, to win this thing so he can keep the money and garner the glory. Cru Jones is going to kick Best's ass, especially on the very day of the Helltrack itself when Best and his dumb sidekick decide to keep changing the rules to screw him over. Cru and the entire town help him overcome the odds to put whatever dinky town they live in on the map, and he gets to make it with </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Lori Loughlin</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Or ass sliding. Or both. It's to bad about that whole cheating to get her daughter into college thing happened-they could have been a great couple. Either way, he wanted an angel sent to him, and boy did he get that. The money, the girl, the car, his mom off of his back about the SAT's. When you have talent, no one cares about that. I know I wouldn't.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Fancy bikes, fancy tricks and fancy licks.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">What a way to "break the ice".</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"The porch, I told you a million times, the porch!"</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Now I just want to play Paperboy on the NES.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">No one cares about your college applications.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Everything has a political and corporation taint behind it. Nothing can have a pure stance.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Dr. Robotnik needs to learn some new motorcycle tactics.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I don't really want to know what "ass sliding" means.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Screw college-let him get into the Helltrack.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Is there ever a time when Cru isn't on his bike?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Aunt Becky is looking pretty saucy tonight.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">The pressure is on, man-there's a ton of cute chicks in bikini's watching.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Cru said he was saving going ass sliding with someone special. That someone special is </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Lori Loughlin</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Gotta qualify for that Helltrack!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">They've got thunder in their hearts!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Cru totally is being a goon.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>It's just like a politician to "change the rules" at the most convenient time for themselves to benefit.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Zits and zombies, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Rad </span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">is absolutely a top tier 80's flick. It comes down to the fact that it doesn't matter if you're interested in BMX or not because that's not what's producing the thunder in your heart. What is doing that is the fact that this mostly unknown kid from some mostly unknown town gets the chance to prove to himself and everyone else that he's the best and no one can stop him. Bart Taylor can't. The mayor can't. Duke Best can't. </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Nobody</span></i><b><span style="color: red;">. And that's the most positive attitude you can have when grinding against an assclown like that that think's they're invincible. Arrogance makes men eventually falter, and Cru Jones has a heart of gold that is unmatched. Now, get on you bikes and ride! Bi-cycle, bi-cycle, bi-cycle... I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike. I want to ride it where I like! And I want that chance for the glory! Suck it up, Best! You're not the </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">best</span></i><span style="color: red;"> anymore! Hulk Hogan, eat your heart out! </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-56131507567824222412023-03-10T05:01:00.000-08:002023-03-10T05:01:37.588-08:00Goobers!<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEFq9cmuBKU5fQp1l9q6K5OuxPGczw-2phX-tYN3Cxre-Sv5DWx9mgiQMwqaxsW_BPpmWJdqFzRDI9srxWCLpPdSvKk7-_OwgVIX5gA4UtRN_uhj6dHacPKQTZOT05h5KsyY1D5y0ywTupLVOGNFMAyLwurDEOR2B6jBv0Lye3mXiAmNfMcTzieMcyaw/s1000/goobers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="705" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEFq9cmuBKU5fQp1l9q6K5OuxPGczw-2phX-tYN3Cxre-Sv5DWx9mgiQMwqaxsW_BPpmWJdqFzRDI9srxWCLpPdSvKk7-_OwgVIX5gA4UtRN_uhj6dHacPKQTZOT05h5KsyY1D5y0ywTupLVOGNFMAyLwurDEOR2B6jBv0Lye3mXiAmNfMcTzieMcyaw/s320/goobers.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">I have watched plenty of </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Full Moon</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> slosh over the years, but I've never bothered to delve into their sister label destined for children films-</span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Moonbeam Entertainment</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">. Yeah, the weirdo's behind </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Puppet Master</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Demonic Toys</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Killjoy</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> and </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Dollman</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> have a side studio dedicated to movies for kids, and I have to say-if </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Goobers!</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> is any indication of how any of the other fare from that dark side of the moon is a result, I don't even think I would suggest parent's let their kids watch this crap. A guy like me sitting through shit like </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Gingerdead Man</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> and </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Channels</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> is one thing, but a kid sitting through </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Goobers!</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> is entirely something else. I don't even know if I would let my daughter watch this if she asked me to-and it's not even because of the actual content-it's the quality. The absolute mind and genital numbing quality. What's in the film is perfectly fine for kids to be quite honest, it's just the tone here is sooooo damn awkward and even for me being close to forty years old, it was just putrid in a way that I almost can't describe. I guess the best way is the old adage of driving past a wreck on the highway and you know you shouldn't look, but you do anyway. I really couldn't believe what I was seeing and I'm pretty damn sure that if I had saw </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Goobers!</span></i><span style="color: red;"> when I was a kid, I would probably pretend for the rest of my life that it doesn't even exist. I don't quite get the parody title against </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Goonies</span></i><span style="color: red;"> either because this film isn't a group of kids going on some epic adventure to follow a pirate's treasure map in hopes of becoming rich and famous-</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Goobers!</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is a goober of a film that deals with the fact that Tommy senses something strange about the monster/creature things that are on set with all of them while filming their show, and eventually figures out their some kind of bizarre aliens being hunted down by Groon and Queen Mara. And they live in some kind of box or... treasure chest. Fine. That's the only similarity. Nothing else is parallel.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">This hunk of stinky cheese starts itself off by us watching an episode of Captain Mike's Mystery Monsters being filmed, and Tommy messing things up. He gets curious about the monsters themselves and tries to figure out if they're real or not, and what a fucking surprise, they are. Pretty much the whole film after this opening scene is Tommy trying to convince everyone that Blop, Squidgy and Esmerelda are actual beings from space or another world-and the oh-so-tired theme of no one believing him is right there, waiting to smother him in wasted time and shrugged shoulders. Not even his cute co-star Susie gives a good shit and even writes down her therapist's number for him to seek help. Man, even for some chick that's eleven (maybe twelve) years old, how much of a bitch can you possibly be? And I really wish that I could say that a lot (or even any) of the stupidity that takes place in this thing made me at least chuckle a little bit, but unfortunately for this offering, I truly don't think I laughed a single time. At anything. </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Not once</span></i><b><span style="color: red;">. The puppets themselves didn't even make me crack in the slightest-I think I actually felt sorry for them this time around and wanted to donate some money or a bowl of soup to them individually just so they could make it through the production. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Charles Band</span></i><span style="color: red;">, if for some insane reason you stumble across this review and actually read it, never, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">ever</span></i><span style="color: red;"> make children's movies ever again. Just don't do it. Point that moonbeam in a different direction. Someone besides us needs the radiation and the moonlight a lot more.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Captain Mike, Squidgy, Blop and Esmerelda-what a cast.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"> Your popcorn strings were eaten!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Let me guess-Tommy is going to start investigating something "magical" on the set, right?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;">"You know what happens to little kids that don't follow Captain Mike's rules? </span><i style="color: #fcff01;">They get fired!!</i><span style="color: red;">"</span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;">That looks like a treasure chest from </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Zelda: Breath of the Wild</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;"> Everyone needs privacy you little bastard.</span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;">Wow, what shitty drywall was used to build this backstage area? Tommy barely put any effort into carving a peeping hole into the changing room wall.</span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;">Holy shit, you wasted your whole life looking for a baseball card that's worth $120. What a damn loser.</span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;">Your therapists name is Dr. Weinstein? Good luck.</span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;">This Groon guy is basically the physical embodiment of Google and Wikipedia all wrapped into one.</span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;">Ha, Blop farted. </span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span><span style="color: red;">Zits and zombies, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Goobers!</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is just stupid. The overall tone here is unique to be honest, but it's also really awkward and to my amazement was pretty difficult to track anything down online about. Maybe </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Charles Band</span></i><span style="color: red;"> realized how downtrodden this film is after it was put out on dvd and tried to bury it. If that's what really happened, then I'd say good call. No one needs to see this. The only miniscule redeeming thing here is the woman that played Queen Mara is pretty sexy, but that's truly it with this piece and I hope </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Full Moon</span></i><span style="color: red;"> as a whole just never even bothers making children's content ever again. If you're craving a dive into that sector of garbage film making, just stick with some of their flagship stuffs like </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Puppet Master</span></i><span style="color: red;"> or maybe even </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Evil Bong</span></i><span style="color: red;">. I'm more inclined to watch Blade slice some asshole's fingers off in an elevator than shitty alien kid muppets playing cards and smoking stogies with Captain Mike. Alright, time to go back into the secret magical treasure chest... </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">forever</span></i><span style="color: red;">. </span></span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-14429144760495018412023-03-07T06:16:00.000-08:002023-03-07T06:16:06.286-08:00Video Murders<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKgwT712sHbBZu2l1icF5sNkpbjqVG-tzvAQIsgDTgIbdrdSXp2vHZ7CmXG-_Navi2WJKxbSWkmk9pAUvbqSXsjJnXMsdib8c-qPOX7_iDW41Td2fpbxY5DgESeBiMlITJ4LTM0gIkcBhuDvKVV-xPrCknFCALF6WSyT1RjthMGHTGy6ajOiRFoZlaFA/s1347/videomurders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1347" data-original-width="890" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKgwT712sHbBZu2l1icF5sNkpbjqVG-tzvAQIsgDTgIbdrdSXp2vHZ7CmXG-_Navi2WJKxbSWkmk9pAUvbqSXsjJnXMsdib8c-qPOX7_iDW41Td2fpbxY5DgESeBiMlITJ4LTM0gIkcBhuDvKVV-xPrCknFCALF6WSyT1RjthMGHTGy6ajOiRFoZlaFA/s320/videomurders.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">What we have here with </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Video Murders</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is a film that makes you believe that you're going on a sleazy ride. A dirty excursion full of female nudity, blood, asphyxiation and magnetic tape. Very, very small bits of all of those are present here, interjected with two extremely long winded chase scenes involving the main detective and our killer, David Lee Shepherd. He has the name of an 80's rock god to be perfectly honest with you, but he never even comes close to living up to such an upper crust that is so hard to reach. The very best parts of </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Video Murders</span></i><span style="color: red;"> are the title card, the psychology behind David Shepherd's character and that's about it. I truly wanted this flick to go much deeper than it does because I'm into all of that serial killer bull-snickety, but once you get through certain scenes contained here and you realize that David is a sad, broken mama's boy that turns to filming his female strangulations, you kind of don't give a shit. I personally wanted to grab him by the collar of his stupid white button-up shirt and start shaking him around while yelling "snap out of it man! There's plenty of other career paths out there besides owning a video company!" He also doesn't need to kidnap and kill random women to get his mother's attention either. But that's what happens when you lose it and you don't know what to do anymore. Suicide, murder, and recording your actions like </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">R. Kelly</span></i><span style="color: red;"> did. Yeah, I mentioned that. At least David wasn't into little girls. And peeing on them.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">The very first thing that happens in </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Video Murders</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> is that David has a solid sit down in front of his boob tube with some chinese food. He peers at some blonde chick swinging her melons around on his t.v. screen for a few minutes, he sweats profusely, turns it off and decides to go to some bar for a drinky-drink. This random black hooker catches his cancerous eye, and he follows her in his crappy van, even after she gets on a motorcycle with some other random guy. She gives him the bird for no real reason, and then David all of a sudden is there to pick her up. After arriving at his shitty apartment (or hotel room-whatever it is) she pays him 300 smackeroons to "play some video games" and then he proceeds to choke her ass on camera. Now that I'm thinking about it, I guess this flick is sort of </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><i style="color: #fcff01;">Maniac</i><span style="color: red;">-</span></span><span style="color: red;"><b>light, except there's stuff being filmed and David sweats a lot. Basically after this, not much else happens. He goes and does the same thing a couple more times until he kidnaps the ridiculously naïve Melissa, whom he ends up considering to be his "girlfriend" at some point. He forces her to wear one of his mother's dresses, ties her to a bed post and films himself apologizing to his mom about being a loser and a serial killing piece of shit and then springboards into one of the longest chase scenes in film history. This shit feels like it's never going to end. And when the cops finally catch him, it was pretty much all for nothing. I'll leave it at that.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Chinese food is always a good way to start off a night of murder and pornography.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>This dude is one sweaty mother.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>She's got nice bewbs.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Holy shit, radio shack? </span><span style="color: #fcff01;"><i>Take me back, man</i></span><span style="color: red;">!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>He'll give you $100 because he's a simp from the 80's.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>$300 to play video games? You better be buying a new console or something.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Your suspects name is David Shepherd? I thought it was Kyle Reese.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Laces out you little bastard.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>What are you crying for-you're the one who enjoys killing women and video taping it.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>The fuzz is gonna get'cha!</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Oh, I think David Lee is a killer. He's a real good boy that sweats a lot and strangles women on film.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>The Insatiables are the most 80's 80's band that the 80's have ever produced. From the 80's.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Hi-you're real sweaty. Mind if I sit down?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>C'mon lady, you can't tell that you're eating a meal with a psycho?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Zits and zombies, I really wanted more from </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Video Murders</span></i><span style="color: red;">. The potential is here for something really great, but it just falls flat unfortunately and really doesn't come close to providing what the audience wants from an entry like this. I'm not going to say this is a total waste because it isn't, it's just everything that takes place in the realm of David Lee Shepherd isn't very exciting. It would have fared a lot better if the film went to darker, more extreme places in certain scenes to punctuate just how fucked up of a guy he really is, but the way this flick stands is sort of a cartoonish reminder that cult film makers could do so much better. I could recommend </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Video Murders</span></i><span style="color: red;"> if you're a fan of the insanely boring SOV </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Spine</span></i><span style="color: red;"> or if you're just that curious that you have to watch it no matter what anyone tells you. Order some kung-pow chicken first. You'll need to pack as much of your own punch here to make it through.</span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-43648833105711829652023-03-04T06:36:00.006-08:002023-03-10T05:06:13.153-08:00Burglar From Hell<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjllrEjsBCKvgAi6LRJ05WofQCGWf3F9s7ivytTBLzaTqGnuSS5_YFSslMuRloXkzbU--N7sRSAqVMj_1k2XIwg3Wnu0hMp9ajK3615omjt6CMp6Mty-RJKBWIPVxOcM6322rCdda_Pu-5HibCweyhcMZz48Fw04nQTWZoLY7lekCDroyuWGnaCQfcQ-Q/s289/burglarfromhellbrd_lg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="289" data-original-width="225" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjllrEjsBCKvgAi6LRJ05WofQCGWf3F9s7ivytTBLzaTqGnuSS5_YFSslMuRloXkzbU--N7sRSAqVMj_1k2XIwg3Wnu0hMp9ajK3615omjt6CMp6Mty-RJKBWIPVxOcM6322rCdda_Pu-5HibCweyhcMZz48Fw04nQTWZoLY7lekCDroyuWGnaCQfcQ-Q/s1600/burglarfromhellbrd_lg.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>For me, Frank The Tank very quickly became an SOV fan favorite. I almost feel like there's nothing he can't do, and do it he shall. He pisses on a dead guy in broad daylight, his weiner falls off and barrels right out of the leg of his pants, which he shrugs off and keeps on killing-the man is an undead genius in my book. I still haven't quite figured out what's up with his face constantly melting or bloating and releasing-maybe it's because he's technically a zombie and that's part of what he has to go through to live his life that way, but as long as he can curse and spout some deliciously ridiculous one-liners</b></span><b style="color: red;"> that are both impactful and lame in the same context, I'm forever grateful. I'm not a huge pundant for </b><span style="color: red;"><b>sequels</b></span><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, but I kind of wish that there were a </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Burglar From Hell 2</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">, because that would just mean more Frank The Tank, more losers like Jake getting stabbed in the stomach with a square shovel while he's on the toilet taking the worst shit of his life and more </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Debbie D</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> showing her fantastic chest. Bookie had a golden opportunity to get a piece of that illustrious pie while he was trying to help Heather study for a major test coming up in school, and he ends up sweating profusely and just chickening out. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Lame</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Forget the damn school work man and get'cha dick rubbed, son. I will say on more of a sour note about </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Burglar From Hell</span></i><span style="color: red;"> though is that it kind of felt </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">really fucking slow</span></i><span style="color: red;"> in some spots which drug this piece down a lot, but honestly, it wasn't anywhere being enough for me to become bored or to want to start counting sheep. The pace does wave and feels uneasy here and there, but the overall experience of sitting through </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Burglar From Hell</span></i><span style="color: red;"> really was a great time. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>An old woman is out in her yard putting clothes up on the clothesline when Frank The Tank decides to show up in his car to spy on her, smoke a ciggy and talk to himself about how she's a bitch and he knows that she has money. Lots of money. Some neighborhood watch guy finds him sitting in his car and tries to convince him to leave, only resulting in good old Frank strangling him so hard that blood starts gushing everywhere out of every angle of his neck. Jesus, how much pressure do you need to exude on a dude's neck to make it bleed like that from strangulation? Frank gets into the woman's house while she's sitting in a chair doing nothing, she gets startled, he smacks her around a few times and then she blasts him in the chest with a shotgun. And he falls onto a huge white towel that wasn't on the floor a moment before so the fake blood doesn't get everywhere. The production value here is astoundingly hilarious and doesn't care at all if the audience notices because SOV's never do. They exist only to entertain, not to bring life lesson's or philosophy. The old lady buries Frank in her backyard and has a heart attack. What an opening. That's all before the credits. Get yer' snacks now because once Frank comes back, it's all shitty relationships, boobs, black magic and crusty, smelly one-liners from here on out.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>That clothesline squeaks like hell.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Frank The Tank is getting fired up.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>How hard do you have to squeeze a man's neck to make him bleed?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>It takes some serious balls to piss on a dead man's body in broad daylight.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Don't hurt her she says. After Frank already beat her up he did.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>When your girl gets pissed, just read an independent movie mag. It will make everything better.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Who even cares about living with a woman before getting married being a sin?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Wheezy, Weller and Fred. What a glorious loser trifecta.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>I think your relationship does need a breather.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>That kind of was like a PSA.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Jake shouldn't care-he's used to sleeping in his car and on the beach.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Jesus, Bookie is a spaz.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Zits and zombies, I forgot to even mention the whole thing with this black chick named Token that can do curses and rain dances and all of that shit. She needs everyone to fully believe in her to make this stuff work, and getting towards the end it does. She ends up cursing everyone with some stomach issue that only makes Jake have to take an insane dump for some reason, and everyone else that tagged along to rent the old lady's house for the weekend gets killed by Frank The Tank in some form or fashion. Let's be real here-</span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Burglar From Hell</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> is not unlike any other SOV from the 80's and 90's in the way that a lot of random shit happens, but most of it makes no sense. That's the appeal besides that do-it-yourself spirit that those people possessed and craved during those years, and I'm glad that these films are bubbling up to the surface for us to lap up. If you want to see some dude rob an old lady in a black Kool t-shirt with that logo emblazoned on the front of it in screeching early 90's hot pink, you're in luck. Have Token do some spells on you first-it might enhance the experience. </b></span></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-64468300467985106072023-03-03T05:20:00.000-08:002023-03-03T05:20:04.843-08:00Mini-Golf Massacre<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTfOKC0KCeu9kwY4tWMPv_-xVieb3Gi628hMEyvx8xphSFb7_Dezpe9MK8NYfnxxl7l_1I33jLoM7IfDK4vJXJGTZuU0f2bYg3HBygB16SNWmn92YAII_Qkr1Tc24lT4mjvWZbY_4RSyLB72t719fXtW6NAyAa7MHLGHDxCppDgYfeugNnZlvYl7uXQ/s800/minigolfmassacre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTfOKC0KCeu9kwY4tWMPv_-xVieb3Gi628hMEyvx8xphSFb7_Dezpe9MK8NYfnxxl7l_1I33jLoM7IfDK4vJXJGTZuU0f2bYg3HBygB16SNWmn92YAII_Qkr1Tc24lT4mjvWZbY_4RSyLB72t719fXtW6NAyAa7MHLGHDxCppDgYfeugNnZlvYl7uXQ/s320/minigolfmassacre.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Our boy Leroy gets thrown out of keeping his job at the Puttz mini-golf course because according to fat ol' Mr. Puttz, the economy can't handle him working there anymore, so off he goes to be thrown to the wolves for better food, better beer and greater opportunities. Leroy doesn't find better food but he does find some beer at the local shit-hole bar and his greater opportunity turns out to be stealing the Chucklehead mask out of Mr. Puttz's car when he shows up at that same watering hole to pick up his burger from the bartender, which leads him to going around the mini-golf course in broad daylight and snuffing people out with mini-golf clubs, his bare hands and tying one of his ex-co-workers to a chair in front of one of the ball throwing machines in the batting cages. This is absolutely the most hilarious death scene in any film that I've seen in quite some time because it is one of those moments where you just have to experience it yourself to get the full effect-especially in the flow and context of what </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mini-Golf Massacre</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> has to offer. There really isn't to much here that </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mini-Golf Massacre</span></i><span style="color: red;"> really does have to give away in terms of pure entertainment value, but the amount of times I rolled my eyes and actually laughed out loud while this 31 minute shot on video affair from 2013 played out on my pc monitor made up for anything else it could have done better. Which, in reality, is basically everything. This is a home made, back pocket project that only a very few will be able to appreciate, and I'm proud to say that I'm one of the elite in this group when it comes to films like this that 98% of the population would just stop sitting through within the first couple of minutes.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">This is one of those short films where it resides in a vortex of unbelievable reality because let's be honest-who's really going to go </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">this</span></i><span style="color: red;"> nuts (or nuts at all) from being let go from a position at a mini-golf course where you're tearing tickets for kids, stocking garbage prizes behind the counter you could easily acquire at the dollar store and making sure the arcade machines are playing properly. No one. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">No fucking one</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Except Leroy. Leroy loved his job so much that he ends up getting absolutely gassed at that shitty bar I mentioned before, and after he throws back who knows how many shots of straight potato liquor and fermented wheat (the edit for this montage of getting plastered is complete with terrible rock music and ripple effects all over the screen letting you know that he's downright schwasted) he decides the best course of action is to wait until Mr. Puttz is inside the bar so he can steal the Chucklehead mask out of his passenger seat, and makes his way back to the mini-golf course to start rampagin' and killin' innocent people that are just outside trying to have a good time. I never knew that I would enjoy watching some ass-clown with a ridiculously stupid mask whacking people with a mini-golf club, but here I am, letting you know that if you have the right mindset and the film endurance to stomach such a fucking gross turd, then you're in luck. Just don't let Rex touch the saw. No one told him he could do that.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">It's just a regular day at the mini-golf course.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Mr. Puttz? This guy looks like a putz.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Get lost, creep? You should have said, "get lost, you putz."</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"Who told you to touch the saw, Rex?"</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"Am I driving? Of course I'm driving!" "You're driving me nuts!"</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Damn that's </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">a lot</span></i><span style="color: red;"> of vodka.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">That bench is about to snap in half. I'm glad Mr. Puttz isn't sitting on it.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Is Mr. Puttz that much of a local celebrity that the bartender had to interrupt everyone by announcing that he's going to be coming in to get a burger over the mic at his establishment?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Mr. Chucklehead is creeping in the outhouse!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"I'm a chef, I'm a chef, I'm a chef, I'm a chef, I'm a chef..."</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Rex has </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">the</span></i><span style="color: red;"> shittiest fake Brooklyn accent of all time. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I'm going to attempt a hole-in-one here zits and zombies and say that </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mini-Golf Massacre</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is a one of a kind treat. It's a short where I feel like my life is actually a little more complete knowing that it exists, and I feel healthier having actually watched it. We all need to release some anger once in awhile because of things that are going on in our lives, and Leroy figured out a cathartic way to express that himself. Although people were killed with mini-golf clubs and speedy baseballs shot at their heads, he was still able to do it in an orderly fashion, during work hours to satisfy some customers. That's the name of the game here and just because he became a maniac with a giant golf ball head terrorizing people doesn't mean he didn't have a reason. He just really loved working at that damn mini-golf course. Oh, and Leroy is basically one of the </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Polonia Brothers</span></i><span style="color: red;"> and an over exaggerated </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Ray Romano</span></i><span style="color: red;"> had a kid. Let that sink in as you decide if you want to track this down or not. Time to sink that eagle.</span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-61552900904513381592023-03-02T06:51:00.001-08:002023-04-13T16:01:38.711-07:00L.A. Aids Jabber<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ORkyRw6mpT3sUdXOGk3Vk-bQjr6zVbPPjw1DBAB40e9embzXaZxNsQxm_kQqpN3cVAnpCcPpJzfnqNY5qAYsdBz62zx3syXurxGCQhXFh_SRf3OgpCgJ4Hr20d39-VmKFcVzgXRLb47_U2vpq5QYYTnfGIYRen0iwx864C97O7kjybfRNn4dJuPu8w/s550/l-a-aids-jabber.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="387" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ORkyRw6mpT3sUdXOGk3Vk-bQjr6zVbPPjw1DBAB40e9embzXaZxNsQxm_kQqpN3cVAnpCcPpJzfnqNY5qAYsdBz62zx3syXurxGCQhXFh_SRf3OgpCgJ4Hr20d39-VmKFcVzgXRLb47_U2vpq5QYYTnfGIYRen0iwx864C97O7kjybfRNn4dJuPu8w/s320/l-a-aids-jabber.webp" width="225"></a></div><br><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">From what I understand, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">L.A. Aids Jabber</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> is more on the rarer or forgotten side of shot on video until recently since </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Visual Vengeance</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> has decided to give this mess the boutique blu-ray treatment. I do not own a copy of this piece (and now that I've seen it, I'm on the fence about it) and can assure you that SOV die-hards out there are going to get their punctures from this hypodermic cringe when the time is right. The time will be right when Jeffery decides it is because he's the one going around stabbing people with needles that contain his own contaminated blood, and to be quite honest and upfront, this is a pretty unique idea for any kind of a film, let alone a shoe string budgeted affair from 1994. Most of the time with these kinds of films it's a ghost doing some weird shit or some teenagers crapping out a kitchen knife or a sledgehammer disappearing and reappearing in a corner somewhere-but not in </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">L.A. Aids Jabber</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b>. The people involved with this flick tried to make this as real as they possibly could have, and now it's a sought after underground work that has seen the light of day on a format it has no business being printed on. The be honest, no SOV should ever make it to blu-ray and beyond because this kind of slime doesn't deserve mainstream greatness-it deserves to wallow in the musty, bizarre smelling and carpeted corners of your local mom and pop video shops of yesteryear. This is the kind of trash that makes me realize that all good things have to end at some point, even if that means getting stabbed with a needle that's infected with the eternally indestructible aids virus.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">The basis of </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">L.A. Aids Jabber</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> starts itself off with Jeff and his girlfriend sitting in his car while she nags him every two seconds about him not listening to her, and in between that annoying non-sense, he's dealing with the fact that he's having some kind of stomach pains going on. They get pissed at each other and make a dumb comment about "living in junk food city" which could be the source of Jeffery's issues, and then they separate for the night. The next morning, Jeff decides to go to the doctor to have some tests done, and his doctor that looks like a dime store </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Denzel Washington</span></i><span style="color: red;"> lets him know that the bloodwork that was done on him confirms that he indeed does have the sweet, sweet aids virus. He becomes engulfed in rage and makes a hit list of sorts to pay back the many assholes that have wronged him over the years (he's only about 18 or 19) and the first person he calls to perform such actions on is a hooker named Tanya. Good times. He convinces her dirty ass to meet him somewhere so they can get crazy again (with no clothes on) and he proceeds to jab her in the neck with a needle that has his blood in it. What a way to spread the ultimate death. He keeps adding people to the list as he goes along as well before the reporter Judy and the cops start figuring out what's going on until they shoot his ass. Yeah, Jeff does have karma slap him in the face towards the end, but then again the universe also decided it was a good idea to give him a personal nuclear clock-the aids virus. What a shitty hand to be dealt.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Damn your girlfriend is annoying.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">He's probably got the A.I.D.S.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I live in junk food city too and my stomach is pretty good 99% of the time.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">How could you </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">not</span></i><span style="color: red;"> believe the SOV version of </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Denzel Washington</span></i><span style="color: red;"> as a doctor.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I want to see who's on Jeff's hit list. It's gotta be a doozy.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Tighten that tourniquet you aids infected motherfucker.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Fuck the media.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>People in this film have a lot of issues listening to each other while they're sitting next to each other in cars.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Holy shit, I never knew the greatest haircut a guy could ever have would be a mix between a power mullet and the </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">A Flock of Seagulls</span></i><span style="color: red;"> hair-do.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>No one cares about this pointless side story with this Scalia jackass.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>I want to meet a guy named Rick Lizard.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Nothing is for free-especially trying to tell someone their future.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">I hate to say this zits and zombies, but </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">L.A. Aids Jabber</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> is a purgatory flick. I'm glad I saw this before I decided to do a blind buy because I really don't think I'm going to be doing a revisit any time soon. This is for sure a solid SOV entry because of the unique idea of people being stuck and stabbed with a needle that contains aids tainted blood, but it's just not enough to warrant multiple viewings or eating up space on my shelf. I'd say that if you're curious about it, you'll have a good time. Just make sure you bring plenty of bleach and Clorox wipes to clean up the blood. And wear disposable gloves-you're going to need plenty of those. I don't blame Jeff for stabbing his boss at the furniture store though-that guy was a clownshoe. </b></span></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-82601997659211547542023-02-10T05:23:00.000-08:002023-02-10T05:23:12.424-08:00The Cinema Slayer Book is here!!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9p6_KbufftUQ0itOQQe4wq-scbSTszlNp11yh-IZy5Y6MZQyhcwMeTUT-RCrpgX1zw5EGCKSL5r8YzUXlcB096CtPYy7gIAavmK6Uz1kxA3LKYh_3NBDZu7snwt8IiCdIs0WRksqMxFq0tG5etkg4NxhTRjPaYr1otu0kNYi-8EX2nOQxo7Hb7Fdk1w/s1294/csbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1294" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9p6_KbufftUQ0itOQQe4wq-scbSTszlNp11yh-IZy5Y6MZQyhcwMeTUT-RCrpgX1zw5EGCKSL5r8YzUXlcB096CtPYy7gIAavmK6Uz1kxA3LKYh_3NBDZu7snwt8IiCdIs0WRksqMxFq0tG5etkg4NxhTRjPaYr1otu0kNYi-8EX2nOQxo7Hb7Fdk1w/s320/csbook.jpg" width="247" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOlSEYlBvwdYqrJdvtG640jr_Yr_f277_XJJth5LQWcaeEZN7V553XDSwzdwNjlZVNyswINnkS4Vcuyol0R9k69bhTys9Zn1X59iXVjsCKovqTU2yku1fWeSCmHqCmyF7DBBZZBhQfDZp1G-H9ydAOc5vW23ibQ8tDQ-Qs1hF86JrdmY32c3x5Jw6VJg/s776/csbookback.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="776" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOlSEYlBvwdYqrJdvtG640jr_Yr_f277_XJJth5LQWcaeEZN7V553XDSwzdwNjlZVNyswINnkS4Vcuyol0R9k69bhTys9Zn1X59iXVjsCKovqTU2yku1fWeSCmHqCmyF7DBBZZBhQfDZp1G-H9ydAOc5vW23ibQ8tDQ-Qs1hF86JrdmY32c3x5Jw6VJg/s320/csbookback.jpg" width="247" /></a></div></div><br /><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Zits and zombies, the time has finally come-my first </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Cinema Slayer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> book has been finished and unleashed! It is comprised mostly of the reviews I have splattered down on here over the last 7-8 years since I started this insanity back in 2015, and all of that work has finally been immortalized into a paperback for you all to fester over! There are newly written reviews, ones that I revisited to form new words from and plenty of other blood-soaked goodies for you all to ingest while taking in a shitty movie and gobbling up some popcorn and diabetes inducing confections that none of us should readily be eating.</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">This is a momentous occasion, zits and zombies-and I couldn't be more proud of you and myself for completing this monumental task. The link for the </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Cinema Slayer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> book is on the right side where everything else is displayed here, and I hope you enjoy it.</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Thank you to you all. Now get back to work. You're making me nervous. </span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></div><p></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-73322477287412580402023-01-08T06:32:00.003-08:002023-01-08T08:09:40.533-08:00Two Idiots From Illinois: My Interview on Instagram with Brennan Dortch<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvZAEoZ-RsuaFLf33g1oVxJDkzSPrtI6MJcmd8_g0m-1NIV-87Nn7q57GQqhZg4PNTraUjV4okqTGuskxn8Fk5rLyrZBcLzdaIaW8rvzaJV-0wQ_ms5ghwM3TCjvfpz9KzoRSLAPBeQX83hAbfDbljTY8Z2rYGE_txTz--kKPBwpbQvn-G3rBIMtGGA/s600/brennandortch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvZAEoZ-RsuaFLf33g1oVxJDkzSPrtI6MJcmd8_g0m-1NIV-87Nn7q57GQqhZg4PNTraUjV4okqTGuskxn8Fk5rLyrZBcLzdaIaW8rvzaJV-0wQ_ms5ghwM3TCjvfpz9KzoRSLAPBeQX83hAbfDbljTY8Z2rYGE_txTz--kKPBwpbQvn-G3rBIMtGGA/w260-h260/brennandortch.jpg" width="260"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrr7Pl726keZw3ouNGvCmEIwu2zMinTN9DlbrYhfDKOIR80LKoHIydMVI_7u8yeVvnZvNkrfvlqMBns80mJGeR9GZIT9akp6ziwS-s9bYpyYQHl3QkBGXAha1PvjKyugBVyr-yQOARd5pY0ir17M363PvP8Mdc_WHiI43GRWn-jSAfcE9pjIVYZIQF3A/s499/mertisofsinbook.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrr7Pl726keZw3ouNGvCmEIwu2zMinTN9DlbrYhfDKOIR80LKoHIydMVI_7u8yeVvnZvNkrfvlqMBns80mJGeR9GZIT9akp6ziwS-s9bYpyYQHl3QkBGXAha1PvjKyugBVyr-yQOARd5pY0ir17M363PvP8Mdc_WHiI43GRWn-jSAfcE9pjIVYZIQF3A/w177-h263/mertisofsinbook.jpg" width="177"></a></div></div> <br><br><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Two Idiots From Illinois: My Interview on Instagram with </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Brennan Dortch</span></i></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;"><br></span></i></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Brennan Dortch</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is a raconteur man-about-town that collects comic books, horror novels and bootlegs of some of the greatest movies you've never heard of. He was also the wholesome spirit that pointed me in the direction of watching and reviewing the 1991 brain damage fueled inoculation known only as </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Karma</span></i><span style="color: red;"> that dissolved my gray matter into a puddle of useless jelly and forced me to wear an adult diaper for the rest of the night until the next morning. What a harrowing experience. Join me now as I ask him some important questions about horror films, his personal hygiene and his first movie review book titled </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Merits of Sin</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Because we're two idiots that only live once. Just south of Shitcago. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">(Singular standing ovation complete with really loud whistling)</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Cinema Slayer</span></i><span style="color: red;">: Thank you for being here, Brennan. Please, have a seat-wait, you probably are seated in front of some internet connected device with a beer or a coffee. Nevermind. Okay, the first question I have to ask so we can get to it is how often do you brush your teeth and take a shower? Once a week? Once a month? Never?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>Brennan Dortch</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Oh, you're not gonna get me on the cleanliness factor, sir. I shower morning and night. I'd shower more if I could. That's the old construction worker in me. Shower to wake myself up and then shower when I get home to wash the stank off. Brush my teeth too, gotta brush'em. Brush'em all you can. Even when you're to drunk to remember to brush'em, you brush them damn teeth. I'm also married and really like my wife. I wouldn't do that to her.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #fcff01;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: That's a good time-I would never do that to my wife either! So how did you get knee deep in the cinema sewer? Did you have some old friends help you out or did you stumble into it yourself?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><i style="color: red;">BD</i><span style="color: red;">: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Growing up I was all about Godzilla and the Universal Monsters but I'd read the hell out of review books. And I kinda became obsessed with taking in as much as I could. Starting out, I'd look for the contemporary classics that were well reviewed or just spoke about fondly by the horror community. As I consumed more and more, I'd bring friends along on my movie marathons and we'd start going for shit that had cool covers. So</span> <i style="color: red;">Demons</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">The Burning</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">Oasis of the Zombies</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">Grim Reaper</i><span style="color: #fcff01;">... just kind of jumping in because of the box art. Realizing that I found more joy in </span><i style="color: red;">Oasis of the Zombies</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">than I did in say something like</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">A Nightmare on Elm Street</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">kind of put me on an unwinding spiral of looked over trash cinema. And once you get your hands on something like</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">Things</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">or</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">Weasels Ripped my Flesh</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">and fall hard for it, you chase that high for the rest of your life. Added to that, you start digging into worldwide weirdness and the floodgates open. Mexico, India, Indonesia, Hong Kong... I happily drown in their output. That sounds gross.</span><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: I will agree with you that that does sound slightly disgusting, but not any more disgusting than not showering I suppose. That is very true though, once you experience a film like </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Things</span></i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Sledgehammer</span></i><span style="color: red;">, or even the recent one I watched that was just balls-out insanity titled </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Karma</span></i><span style="color: red;">...dear Lord! And yes, the addiction to this level of celluloid snot is real...</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">very real</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I'm so glad you got to see</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>Bad Karma</i>.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: I am too. We only have one life to live, and the best way to spend it is watching coke fueled non-sense like </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Karma</span></i><span style="color: red;">. You have mentioned to me before that you have (or had) video rental store connections. Did you work at one in the past or had friends that did? Family?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I worked at Value Video, formerly Palmer Video. Huge VHS selection. It was somewhere in between a Mom and Pop shop and a video store chain. I've always said it was to big to be considered the former but there was only one location so it sure as hell wasn't the latter. Worked there out of high school because they had an adult video section and I couldn't work there before I graduated...owner's orders. Apparently you need a GED to</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">put</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>Ass Blasters 7</i> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">back in the correct location. Wasn't 18 yet so I have no idea. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #fcff01;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: I didn't know that porn stars were that educated-but then again, look at the level we're talking about here. Maybe you do need to graduate from high school to be able to distinguish between </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Ass Blasters 7</span></i><span style="color: red;"> and </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Ass Slammers 6</span></i><span style="color: red;">. I'm no expert so who knows. You also told me that </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Robert Z'Dar</span></i><span style="color: red;"> used to frequent a bar next to where you used to host film showings in the past. Did you ever actually meet him? If so, was he always plastered? That chin of his probably helped him out with the ladies, right?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I could not tell you if he was plastered or not because I was already three sheets to the wind myself, but when</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>Z'Dar</i> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">walks into the establishment that you're getting drunk in, you take notice. Even if you have no idea who the fuck he is, that massive noggin' stands out. It's surprisingly a lot larger in person. The man just wanted to have some drinks, so we would just leave him alone. I was honestly like "</span><i style="color: red;">Soultaker</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">is awesome!" and then went about my merry way. Any other time he was in there, you just let the man drink with his buddies. He's not there to hear your take on why</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">Maniac Cop 3</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">is better than 2. Nobody wants to hear that take, not even your mom. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #fcff01;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: Man, that's good-I've actually only ever seen the first </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Maniac Cop</span></i><span style="color: red;">, so I wish I could indulge in which sequel is better, but I can't. I'll bet that head of his was massive to see in person. His parents must have been proud.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I'm sure it was a point of honor in the household. Part 2 is better.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: What kind of schlock did you host at that place? The same kind of stuff you reviewed in your book, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Merits of Sin</span></i><span style="color: red;">? Or was it something else entirely?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I'd usually host one film that was considered essential cinema</span><span style="color: red;"> (<i>Exorcist</i>, <i>Return of the Living Dead</i>, etc.) </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">and then hit them with something I wanted to share with the world as a closer</span><span style="color: red;"> (<i>Lady Terminator</i>, <i>Demons 2</i>, etc.). </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Get'em nice and sauced before laying out my kind of wonderful. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #fcff01;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: Makes sense-get the potential audience while they're schnockered and hit them when they least expect it. And I'm sure your viewings were wonderful. So what exactly brought you to put </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Merits of Sin</span></i><span style="color: red;"> together? Just the build up over the years of needing to tell people about how crazy movies can actually get?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I had always wanted to write a book strictly of reviews-my parents bought me a book called</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>Terror on Tape</i> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">when I was a lil' weirdo and I fell in love with the idea of just a collection of reviews on things I was interested in. As the years went on and I got into odder crap, I felt it would just be fun to collect them all in one piece, especially since I was coming across titles I had never read about. Then my buddy Reel Rat invited me to write reviews for his site (Basement on a Hill then, now it's Spook du Jour) and that just lit a fire under my ass. When he closed the site (which he has since resurrected) I figured now was as good a time as any to start working on an actual book. I mean, my reviews may not be for everyone but I knew I'd at least receive praise from my mother...so that's a win. </span><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: Getting praise from your mother is always a win-and I have to say, there were other things that lit a fire under my ass to publish my first book on Amazon, but you were it to be honest. I found out about your book from </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">SloppySecondSales</span></i><span style="color: red;"> on Instagram as they posted about your book coming out, and I looked it up on Amazon right away because I'm into that sort of thing as well. Come to find out, you live here in Illinois as well and you self-published it! I literally said to myself "if this clown can do it, why can't I?" And I got to plowing through </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Personal Shrapnel</span></i><span style="color: red;">, and now my </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Cinema Slayer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> book. So, thank you for pushing me without even realizing it my friend! So, is there another book in the works right now and if there is, when can we see it on Amazon?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I'm here to make sure every other clown out there with a dream finds it in themselves to go forth and live that dream because if my dumbass can do it, anyone can do it. I'm about one hundred reviews away from having book two finished, then the editing process begins. I'm hoping it will be out by summer. And by the way,</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>Personal Shrapnel</i> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">was a wonderful experience and has me eagerly anticipating your book of reviews... I mean, that and the website but you know what I mean.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: Well thank you, I very much appreciate that. I feel like my writing has gotten much better even in these last six months or so since I published that so I'm hoping my review book will be a lot better than those three shorts that I wrote for </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Personal Shrapnel</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Okay, so who has the better line-up...</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">DC</span></i><span style="color: red;"> or </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Marvel</span></i><span style="color: red;">? And </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Batman</span></i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Superman</span></i><span style="color: red;"> or </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Iron Man</span></i><span style="color: red;">?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Fuuuuuuuuuuuck! Can't I just love them both? I grew up with</span><i style="color: red;"> Marvel</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">but I'm more into</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">DC</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">nowadays, but then I think on</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">Hickman's Fantastic Four</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">and</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">Avengers</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">and I'm like...this shit is awesome. I'm gonna go with</span><i style="color: red;"> DC</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">because of</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">The Flash</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">Wonder Woman</i><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">and</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">Green Lantern</i><span style="color: red;">. </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">There, that's my crew. And give me</span><span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">Batman</i><span style="color: red;">. </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Better rogue's gallery. </span><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: Hell yeah, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Batman</span></i><span style="color: red;"> all day for me. Been a huge bat-fan since as far back as I can remember! You don't rub grilled cheese into your underarms, do you? I've heard of people doing that sometimes.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Oh jeez. Not since college but you know, that's the time to experiment.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: It's good to use different cheeses and breads to see which scents you prefer. Munster and marble rye is a good one. Name a bunch of your favorite authors and-go.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><i style="color: red;">BD</i><span style="color: red;">: </span><i style="color: red;">Michael McDowell</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">Adam Nevill</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">Scott Snyder</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">Geoff Johns</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">Jonathan Hickman</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">Amanda Conner</i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i style="color: red;">Greg Rucka</i><span style="color: #fcff01;">...I'm sure there's a shit-ton more but I'm pretty wretched when it comes to names and remembering things without hours to research them and I don't want to waste your time making you sit there, twiddling your thumbs as I cross reference titles and authors and comic book runs. </span><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: It's all good man-that's a bunch and they're all ones I've never heard of so I can always look them up when I have the time or after I get through all the books I just bought recently. And there's a lot of them. Twiddling my thumbs sometimes is fun though.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">To each their own.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #fcff01;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: I just have to know though-do you have a massive warehouse connected to the side of your house where you keep all of your crap, or do you just throw everything in the corner like a normal collector does?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I actually have what I have shelved. Been selling off my physical media because I just don't need it anymore. I watch the movies and move on. Don't need slipcases or 4k versions of something I've seen a dozen times. Get on with getting on. Now books are another thing. I've tried doing digital reading, but that was giving me headaches so you'll no longer find my corpse under a stack of movies. It will be under a stack of books.</span><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: I've done something similar in recent years-I used to be diehard about collecting music in the past, and my wife and I had the unfortunate incident of our basement flooding which destroyed basically all of the music I had on vinyl and cd and everything. Then I sold off what didn't get destroyed and just stuck with movies and dropped video games for the most part as well. My main collections nowadays is just movies and books. I still game, but it's on PC through Steam and that's really it unless it's something I'm really looking forward to on the Switch. What is the nuttiest film you've ever sat through?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I think that honor would probably go to</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>Bhoot Ke Pechhe Bhoot</i>. </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Indian horror film from 2003 and it's fuckin' nuts. Helps that there's no subs, so it's like falling down into a pit made from the collected fever dreams of Victorian Era orphans while on LSD and getting a back massage from your favorite Justice Leaguer. There's nothing quite like it and it's even more fascinating because I saw this for the first time last year. It's going in the second book. That gives me so much hope that there's always going to be diamonds hiding out in those seemingly endless fields of feces.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #fcff01;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: Man, it really sounds like I should start digging into some curry laced cinema myself-never got into it prior, but being on LSD while getting a back massage from your favorite Justice Leaguer would be one hell of an experience.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Nothing like it.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: In </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Merits of Sin</span></i><span style="color: red;"> you gave </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Nightmare Alley</span></i><span style="color: red;"> your lowest possible rating. Is that the shittiest film you've ever wasted your time on or is there something even worse than that out there just waiting to be discovered by normal human beings?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I'd say I had more fun with that turd than anything released by</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>Lucifer Valentine</i> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">or</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>A Baroque House</i>. </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I'd throw those on my lowest ebb of the cinematic sea. More power to you if you are anything but bored by them but those vomit crusted rape fantasies just ain't my thing. But you'll be seeing a lot more low reviews in the next book. I dip my toes into some extreme horror and</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>Tubi</i> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">sure has put out some supreme sandwiches of shit lately.</span><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: I wholeheartedly agree-I think </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Lucifer Valentine </span></i><span style="color: red;">is a hack and holds onto some serious mental issues that need to be resolved, but hey, there's something for everyone out there if you look hard enough.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Well said!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: One of my favorite SOV flicks is </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Soultangler</span></i><span style="color: red;">-I've actually talked to </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Pat Bishow</span></i><span style="color: red;"> a couple of times. He's a pretty cool guy-what's your favorite SOV entry?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: <i>Vampire Time Travelers</i> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">will forever be my favorite.</span><span style="color: red;"> <i>Soultangler</i> </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">is a magical time, though. It's pure enthusiasm without inhibition and that's what makes up the best backyard cinema.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: Ah, yes-</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Vampire Time Travelers</span></i><span style="color: red;">. I have yet to witness the magic of that one.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I'll be buried with that one.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: I think I'll probably be buried with my all time favorite which is the first </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Video Violence</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Watched it so many times and I just can never get enough of it.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">It's been so long. May have to put that one on soon.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: Final question good sir-and this is because of where we live-Cubs, Sox, Bulls, Bears or Blackhawks? I don't give a shit because I'm not into sports but I just wanted to see what you would say.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">I'm not either so CM Punk. Thanks for having me and letting me waste your time!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">CS</span></i><span style="color: red;">: It was a good time and I'm glad I was able to do it! Talk to you again soon, son. Keep that curry spicy.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><i>BD</i>: </span><span style="color: #fcff01;">Will do brother. Until next time. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-69191235517732557692022-12-22T14:21:00.000-08:002022-12-22T14:21:12.562-08:00Bad Karma (1991)<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrhoJ2WgqvOG4dMPDJ6B3I_xbAsRRKCo7wrdzy6E8_3dH9NhPXvsUw5uOKnESvkK5hEe8TZb9Ho6cVeo4U8qy0w9TBQzL48LyTwbuyDDqioX6rccuzvm3jGYFIeKLxT_sr3Dj66MT0hd4ftkTU2P0c7VDpbh6z7Jk8JEnUlXiUms27wE-JQYDMrBYoQ/s1304/badkarma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1304" data-original-width="780" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUrhoJ2WgqvOG4dMPDJ6B3I_xbAsRRKCo7wrdzy6E8_3dH9NhPXvsUw5uOKnESvkK5hEe8TZb9Ho6cVeo4U8qy0w9TBQzL48LyTwbuyDDqioX6rccuzvm3jGYFIeKLxT_sr3Dj66MT0hd4ftkTU2P0c7VDpbh6z7Jk8JEnUlXiUms27wE-JQYDMrBYoQ/s320/badkarma.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">I couldn't resist. I just </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">couldn't resist</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> this one. I found out about </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Karma</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> from 1991 through </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Brennan Dortch</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">can</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> and </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">will</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> mutate your well being into something you never thought possible. Just describing </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Karma</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">I can</span></i><span style="color: red;"> do it any justice, but I'm going to try. If you're into films that devolve the very existence of human kind, like </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Things</span></i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Sledgehammer</span></i><span style="color: red;">, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Boardinghouse</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Karma</span></i><span style="color: red;">. For Satan's sake there's a chainsaw named "Buttsaw" that makes an </span></b><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">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. </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Oh, but it does</span></i><span style="color: red;"><b>. 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.</b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">would</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">everything</span></i><span style="color: red;"> here is perfect despite it's non-sensical nature. Now I can finally breathe. I hope that this was good enough for </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Karma</span></i><span style="color: red;">. I don't need any for myself. I've had enough.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">These four people should get bad karma just because of their outfits.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">Shut up you old British witch and just answer the door.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">This is some of the hippest 90's music I've ever heard.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">Yeah, make a donation-in blood!</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">"Hey Dave, make mine a killer zombie!" There's a beer called killer zombie?</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">You literally just drank something, how the hell are you parched?</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">When did Hare Krishna's become so joyfully brutal?</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">Anthony runs an S&M spanking house. This can only get better.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">"Master, I can't wear these clothes again! They make me itch like a bastard!"</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">Well, that chainsaw is called "Buttsaw" for a reason.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">Death by desk fan!</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">I think my new superhero now is Mr. Whippy.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Pure</span></i><span style="color: red;">... </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">fucking</span></i><span style="color: red;">... </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">lunacy</span></i><span style="color: red;">!!</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">"What about my girlfriend?" "I killed her first-then fucked her brains out!"</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">I've got nothing left, zits and zombies. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Karma</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Bad Karma</span></i><span style="color: red;">. 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. </span></b></span><b style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-49047456559542513672022-12-17T03:46:00.000-08:002022-12-17T03:46:45.595-08:00Book update #1<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8B_CZBXddZqWiBUwSnw031TDOtZOCuf9TvPpSO4oS5-34iawvUVsAGlZYZBgp6WlzcDsok-HDHneoGPoAjrMCI3ErBm40mMvBEg2Ja0x3DSr8CGHqKhqTn0jAmNoJkZ8KLn_oQ43vnbYH3MsEeFkOthnqW1DzJadUKkCYGk8Mz0DMhjUjmpJhcuamA/s275/hollywoodchainsawhookers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8B_CZBXddZqWiBUwSnw031TDOtZOCuf9TvPpSO4oS5-34iawvUVsAGlZYZBgp6WlzcDsok-HDHneoGPoAjrMCI3ErBm40mMvBEg2Ja0x3DSr8CGHqKhqTn0jAmNoJkZ8KLn_oQ43vnbYH3MsEeFkOthnqW1DzJadUKkCYGk8Mz0DMhjUjmpJhcuamA/s1600/hollywoodchainsawhookers.jpg" width="183" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Hey, yo, woah zits and zombies-I just wanted to throw an update in your undead way for where I'm at with the </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Cinema Slayer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Michelle Bauer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> wielding a chainsaw. As a hooker. She's always been my favorite 80's scream queen next to </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Linnea Quigley</span></i><span style="color: red;"> and probably </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Barbara Crampton</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Or maybe </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Brinke Stevens</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Hell, I love all of them.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">That will be the pits when that starts to happen.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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? </span><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Blood</span></i><span style="color: red;"> and </span><i><span style="color: #6aa84f;">vomit</span></i><span style="color: red;">? 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. </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-24045377816032818912022-11-24T06:17:00.000-08:002022-11-24T06:17:26.378-08:00I am off for the winter and my progress on the Cinema Slayer book<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ibSFDUiCacI5IAxouKOh-ANWDCSZLKka8z0CSpeBVe5kiQVpACtWoKsB69E23K5oZ_SXxZzBGThwANnCtGmOklIDe-xrYoJo6AGSxj3vJrJrSovQGjbP5FlY_ehXQnsgXbSXnldtERavk3sIgT_yXPQnh7qoC0ChLqJ6G60gN6jIeTpGZrqavFOLwQ/s1200/ironmaidenchristmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="816" data-original-width="1200" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ibSFDUiCacI5IAxouKOh-ANWDCSZLKka8z0CSpeBVe5kiQVpACtWoKsB69E23K5oZ_SXxZzBGThwANnCtGmOklIDe-xrYoJo6AGSxj3vJrJrSovQGjbP5FlY_ehXQnsgXbSXnldtERavk3sIgT_yXPQnh7qoC0ChLqJ6G60gN6jIeTpGZrqavFOLwQ/s320/ironmaidenchristmas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fcff01;"><b><i>Tell me why I had to be a Powerslave.</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fcff01;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Cinema Slayer</span></i><span style="color: red;"> book, and I still have plenty of work to do.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Eddie says Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. Up the irons.</span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-39504073514381692922022-11-20T06:22:00.007-08:002022-11-26T05:57:35.737-08:00Stuffings<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ipGuUHg2DlYvAmJzhOiaLqwh75EHxmMrvMvKrvgMTVIuCToY8P7zkYUCxF2Ac5TWyhjAqyMMaDYQpAT4bkVYx7TKW6WKkgjsuM2uZ7RFEyOs9pnhPLELlpBwiNJZ_gbIy4eD8CWCGGl9KQoyQ_B-sn9FcF3x2iRMGBkFIBI_W3qbyqxyGV_eP9mbYA/s1401/stuffings.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1401" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ipGuUHg2DlYvAmJzhOiaLqwh75EHxmMrvMvKrvgMTVIuCToY8P7zkYUCxF2Ac5TWyhjAqyMMaDYQpAT4bkVYx7TKW6WKkgjsuM2uZ7RFEyOs9pnhPLELlpBwiNJZ_gbIy4eD8CWCGGl9KQoyQ_B-sn9FcF3x2iRMGBkFIBI_W3qbyqxyGV_eP9mbYA/s320/stuffings.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I had a bad feeling about </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Stuffings</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Body Melt</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Stuffings</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Stuffings</span></i><span style="color: red;"> though is the lack of </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">what the fuck was actually going on</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Youtube</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Corey Taylor</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Stuffings</span></i><span style="color: red;"> does commit the ultimate sin that a film can commit in being a piece of shit-</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">it's fucking boring</span></i><span style="color: red;">. 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Youtube</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Weird: The Al Yankovich</span></i> <i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Story</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Silence can be uncomfortable. But it can also be heaven.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Take a shot, mate.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">These are the worst decorative Santa's I've ever seen.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"> "It's not Santa Clause, it looks like crap."</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Proposing to Bec may have been a bad idea.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">That trail would be great for photography.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Hahahahahaha, this girl is running like the T-1000 from </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Terminator 2</span></i><span style="color: red;">!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Scarecrow Santa is real!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">After awhile, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">any</span></i><span style="color: red;"> career feels like you're stuck in a machine.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Do people really brush their teeth with no paste and no water?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Holy shit, I thought this old lady was </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Mrs. Doubtfire</span></i><span style="color: red;"> for a second.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Wow, what an uneventful kill.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Oh no, Andy is in trouble and this blonde girl is dead.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">You're saving children by killing one-okay, this is fucking stupid.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Stuffings</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-76639018528461602242022-11-15T06:19:00.000-08:002022-11-15T06:19:03.081-08:00Blood Harvest<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZBWJ706jaKhPfLrhNq4db6VT9KETyMcK-PsmLCpkUdIXwaFVAls2ntSVz0yttcv6dGZGlI6ddMLnmBeDLp1eMMQoEr75l1P2UyG_MgQnLIaQAibrIQZyzml06b7ptKFTNtjzta-48GMF8tUjuRfhBJQOQ0jYuUAZF6u2ae18acOXeVlzyZdx7Giakg/s744/bloodharvest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="494" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZBWJ706jaKhPfLrhNq4db6VT9KETyMcK-PsmLCpkUdIXwaFVAls2ntSVz0yttcv6dGZGlI6ddMLnmBeDLp1eMMQoEr75l1P2UyG_MgQnLIaQAibrIQZyzml06b7ptKFTNtjzta-48GMF8tUjuRfhBJQOQ0jYuUAZF6u2ae18acOXeVlzyZdx7Giakg/s320/bloodharvest.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Harvest</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tiny Tim</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Harvest</span></i><span style="color: red;">, and honestly I didn't think there was going to be any. Hell, with a title like </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Harvest</span></i><span style="color: red;"> I was really hoping that it was going to be a gory romp full of eyes being gouged out and </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tiny Tim</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tiny Tim</span></i><span style="color: red;"> himself just seemed weak and underdeveloped, but for Mervo in particular, I believe that was the point.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Harvest</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Tears of a clown. Especially </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tiny Tim</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">This guy's voice is booming without even talking into a mic. </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Normies for the slaughter.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Sweet Lord, Sarah is hot!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I'm confused, so is that a real dead guy hanging in the front door or is that a mannequin?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Marvelous Mervo! The murderous clown!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Paintball is such a great sport.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"How about some meaningless sex?"</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Yeah, another day shot to hell.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">The good Lord is going to guide Mervo into murdering more people. Or his brother.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tiny Tim</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is fucking weird, but damn is he entertaining.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"> 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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Oh man, Scott-baseball bat to the face!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Zits and zombies, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Harvest</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blood Harvest</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-27480173726530868032022-11-12T04:55:00.000-08:002022-11-12T04:55:35.946-08:00Hellmaster<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZt9ZngMFRi3i23fMOU9sg0Yt3Dknjh0l4SmMIVkCbh5uc3uyGHRqIXFKY7OLkYkqv_p2n5OvWO-G8fVQ1lxMLrkI_AVxoug5awTNdRwmt35PidNwsPLzpH7k_4EtQqKpS8w7bRryziss-D-kEYl3IAWkCB3jwI-sMB1lqIcrgulpzZeXMseAYEACiWA/s583/hellmaster.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="583" data-original-width="408" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZt9ZngMFRi3i23fMOU9sg0Yt3Dknjh0l4SmMIVkCbh5uc3uyGHRqIXFKY7OLkYkqv_p2n5OvWO-G8fVQ1lxMLrkI_AVxoug5awTNdRwmt35PidNwsPLzpH7k_4EtQqKpS8w7bRryziss-D-kEYl3IAWkCB3jwI-sMB1lqIcrgulpzZeXMseAYEACiWA/s320/hellmaster.webp" width="224" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Just because your shitty horror flick (somehow) has the legendary </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">John Saxon</span></i><span style="color: red;"> starring in it, doesn't mean that it's going to be worthwhile. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Hellmaster</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Freddy Krueger</span></i><span style="color: red;">, pin-less </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Pinhead</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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? </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Hellmaster</span></i><span style="color: red;"> comes in luke warm and barely even retains that energy by the time </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">John Saxon</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">quite</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">John Saxon</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Nietzche Experiment</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Blue Oyster Cult</span></i><span style="color: red;"> logo as well. Coincidence? I think not. At least BOC is a kick ass metal band-</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Hellmaster</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Hellmaster</span></i><span style="color: red;">, consider yourself sick forever. You'll never recover from it.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Them</span></i><span style="color: red;">? I thought this was called </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Hellmaster</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"> </span></b><b><span style="color: red;"> Being a writer is lonely work, and that's why I love it.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">What do I see? I see</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;"> John Saxon</span></i><span style="color: red;"> wearing some terrible movie make-up.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"> If this college program is government funded, it's time to walk out.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Joel has as much charisma as a dried up starfish.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Smile, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Christ</span></i><span style="color: red;"> is watching from the cross!</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">And </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">King Diamond</span></i><span style="color: red;"> said that nuns have no fun. Looks like murder is part of their jubilation.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">What the fuck does this douche-bag not wearing any underwear have anything to do with anything?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Damn, everyone in this movie is so </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">lame</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">John Saxon Jones</span></i><span style="color: red;">. Has a golden ring to it.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">"A lot of teenagers are </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">dying</span></i><span style="color: red;"> for a drink."</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Hanging this pig out to dry-care for some bacon?</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">I knew there were other reasons to be into photography besides art.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Zombie cop or Hellcop-either one would be a great movie title.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">Hey man, if you're looking to join the Tunnel Snakes, you're going the wrong way.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Zits and zombies, I fucking hated everything about </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Hellmaster</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">. </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Every single thing</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">. 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. </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Hellmaster</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"> leaves a gigantic elephant pile wherever it pleases and expects you to enjoy cleaning it up. Fuck you, </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">Hellmaster</span></i><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">. 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 </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">John Saxon</span></i><b><span style="color: red;"> 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. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Hellmaster</span></i><span style="color: red;"> doesn't exist as far as I'm concerned. Now it's time to watch a </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">real</span></i><span style="color: red;"> horror flick with the word hell in the title. </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Doug Bradley</span></i><span style="color: red;">, here I come. </span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-765991652840783757.post-77183904770260913462022-11-10T03:54:00.000-08:002022-11-10T03:54:04.514-08:00Dead Dudes In The House<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemtofe2Yni-sBBHCjcHtLoWPUA3pFmvvP8DQ-OtJtr11YLVUxtOwAn_AxgWCArZmQW39OwM14DtnCn6uSwOTlDtwCb8Pv3rLDEv4Sh_jglj1vE5sjgB9SFojV3pcRHGq6x9uFPaGhKUgJXJcXu6vj9sOFGk-S_BMbAEwAzqcPh6sAth-P5a2c6sVgDw/s1600/deaddudesinthehouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemtofe2Yni-sBBHCjcHtLoWPUA3pFmvvP8DQ-OtJtr11YLVUxtOwAn_AxgWCArZmQW39OwM14DtnCn6uSwOTlDtwCb8Pv3rLDEv4Sh_jglj1vE5sjgB9SFojV3pcRHGq6x9uFPaGhKUgJXJcXu6vj9sOFGk-S_BMbAEwAzqcPh6sAth-P5a2c6sVgDw/s320/deaddudesinthehouse.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">This is one of those slasher flicks that ended up having multiple names when it was released, but </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Dead Dudes In The House</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">righteous dudes</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Tubi</span></i><span style="color: red;">, I really didn't know what I was going to be getting myself into because the infamous </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Troma</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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-</span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Loony In The Woods</span></i><span style="color: red;">, or it was going to be a more enjoyable experience by them like, what else, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">The Toxic Avenger</span></i><span style="color: red;">. 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 </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Dead Dudes In The House</span></i><span style="color: red;">. 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.</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b> 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.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Sippin' some lemonade while your grandma stabs your grandpa. Okay then.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>If you want vegetables, you're already surrounded by them.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Yeah-put your head in that noose. That grave was meant for you, Bob.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>"A carpenter's tools are a hammer, nails and beer." You sound like a tool by just saying that.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Can Bob just get killed already? I can't stand this motherfucker.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>I guess Mark is the first dead dude in the house.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>This house is sealed up for real-no one can come in or out.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>You never know when you'll need a machete.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>How hard could it really be to kill a 90 year old woman?</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Joey is the second dead dude in the house. Well, he was killed outside but whatever. He's still dead.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>"You're next! You won the lottery, Jackson!"</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Damn, this old lady is brutal!</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>"Why am I friends with you?" "Because I'm a great guy."</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b>Steve's a dead dude in the house now too. He looks like Frankensteve. Permanently.</b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: red;">When it comes down to it zits and zombies, </span><i><span style="color: #fcff01;">Dead Dudes In The House</span></i><span style="color: red;"> 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.</span></b></p>Cinema Slayerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12745641500106164932noreply@blogger.com0