Two Idiots From Illinois: My Interview on Instagram with Brennan Dortch

 

Two Idiots From Illinois: My Interview on Instagram with Brennan Dortch

Brennan Dortch 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 Bad Karma 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 The Merits of Sin. Because we're two idiots that only live once. Just south of Shitcago. 

(Singular standing ovation complete with really loud whistling)

Cinema Slayer: 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?

Brennan Dortch: 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.

CS: 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?

BD: 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 Demons, The Burning, Oasis of the Zombies, Grim Reaper... just kind of jumping in because of the box art. Realizing that I found more joy in Oasis of the Zombies than I did in say something like A Nightmare on Elm Street, kind of put me on an unwinding spiral of looked over trash cinema. And once you get your hands on something like Things or Weasels Ripped my Flesh 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. 

CS: 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 Things, Sledgehammer, or even the recent one I watched that was just balls-out insanity titled Bad Karma...dear Lord! And yes, the addiction to this level of celluloid snot is real...very real.

BD: I'm so glad you got to see Bad Karma.

CS: I am too. We only have one life to live, and the best way to spend it is watching coke fueled non-sense like Bad Karma. 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?

BD: 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 put Ass Blasters 7 back in the correct location. Wasn't 18 yet so I have no idea.    

CS: 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 Ass Blasters 7 and Ass Slammers 6. I'm no expert so who knows. You also told me that Robert Z'Dar 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?

BD: I could not tell you if he was plastered or not because I was already three sheets to the wind myself, but when Z'Dar 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 "Soultaker 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 Maniac Cop 3 is better than 2. Nobody wants to hear that take, not even your mom. 

CS: Man, that's good-I've actually only ever seen the first Maniac Cop, 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.

BD: I'm sure it was a point of honor in the household. Part 2 is better.

CS: What kind of schlock did you host at that place? The same kind of stuff you reviewed in your book, The Merits of Sin? Or was it something else entirely?

BD: I'd usually host one film that was considered essential cinema (Exorcist, Return of the Living Dead, etc.) and then hit them with something I wanted to share with the world as a closer (Lady Terminator, Demons 2, etc.). Get'em nice and sauced before laying out my kind of wonderful. 

CS: 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 The Merits of Sin together? Just the build up over the years of needing to tell people about how crazy movies can actually get?

BD: I had always wanted to write a book strictly of reviews-my parents bought me a book called Terror on Tape 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.    

CS: 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 SloppySecondSales 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 Personal Shrapnel, and now my Cinema Slayer 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?

BD: 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, Personal Shrapnel 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.

CS: 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 Personal Shrapnel. Okay, so who has the better line-up...DC or Marvel? And Batman, Superman or Iron Man?

BD: Fuuuuuuuuuuuck! Can't I just love them both? I grew up with Marvel but I'm more into DC nowadays, but then I think on Hickman's Fantastic Four and Avengers and I'm like...this shit is awesome. I'm gonna go with DC because of The Flash, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern. There, that's my crew. And give me Batman. Better rogue's gallery.  

CS: Hell yeah, Batman 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.

BD: Oh jeez. Not since college but you know, that's the time to experiment.

CS: 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.

BD: Michael McDowell, Adam Nevill, Scott Snyder, Geoff Johns, Jonathan Hickman, Amanda Conner, Greg Rucka...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.   

CS: 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.

BD: To each their own.

CS: 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?

BD: 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. 

CS: 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?

BD: I think that honor would probably go to Bhoot Ke Pechhe Bhoot. 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.

CS: 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.

BD: Nothing like it.

CS: In The Merits of Sin you gave Nightmare Alley 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?

BD: I'd say I had more fun with that turd than anything released by Lucifer Valentine or A Baroque House. 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 Tubi sure has put out some supreme sandwiches of shit lately. 

CS: I wholeheartedly agree-I think Lucifer Valentine 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.

BD: Well said!

CS: One of my favorite SOV flicks is The Soultangler-I've actually talked to Pat Bishow a couple of times. He's a pretty cool guy-what's your favorite SOV entry?

BD: Vampire Time Travelers will forever be my favorite. Soultangler is a magical time, though. It's pure enthusiasm without inhibition and that's what makes up the best backyard cinema.

CS: Ah, yes-Vampire Time Travelers. I have yet to witness the magic of that one.

BD: I'll be buried with that one.

CS: I think I'll probably be buried with my all time favorite which is the first Video Violence. Watched it so many times and I just can never get enough of it.

BD: It's been so long. May have to put that one on soon.

CS: 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.

BD: I'm not either so CM Punk. Thanks for having me and letting me waste your time!

CS: 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.

BD: Will do brother. Until next time. 

 

     

Bad Karma (1991)

 

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, make a donation-in blood!

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

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

When did Hare Krishna's become so joyfully brutal?

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

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

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

Death by desk fan!

I think my new superhero now is Mr. Whippy.

Pure... fucking... lunacy!!

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

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

Book update #1

 

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

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

That will be the pits when that starts to happen.

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

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

 

Tell me why I had to be a Powerslave.

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

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

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

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

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

Stuffings

 

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

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

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

Take a shot, mate.

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

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

Proposing to Bec may have been a bad idea.

That trail would be great for photography.

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

Scarecrow Santa is real!

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

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

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

Wow, what an uneventful kill.

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

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

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

Blood Harvest

 

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

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

Tears of a clown. Especially Tiny Tim.

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

Normies for the slaughter.

Sweet Lord, Sarah is hot!

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

Marvelous Mervo! The murderous clown!

Paintball is such a great sport.

"How about some meaningless sex?"

Yeah, another day shot to hell.

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

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

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

Oh man, Scott-baseball bat to the face!

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

Hellmaster

 

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

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

Them? I thought this was called Hellmaster.

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

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

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

Joel has as much charisma as a dried up starfish.

Smile, Christ is watching from the cross!

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

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

Damn, everyone in this movie is so lame.

John Saxon Jones. Has a golden ring to it.

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

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

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

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

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

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