Tuesday, February 28, 2012

the world's greatest superpower?


and now for a fest.

Just up and recovering from the annual Glasgow Film4 Frightfest and desperately trying to get my head round some of the chilling, thrilling and frankly bizarre sights and sounds I've experienced over the past 48 hours.

Please stick with me as my face is fit to burst from a heady mix of an evil Flu virus, visions of a cockless man attempting to masturbate and a veritable menagerie of pound shop monsters.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Then I'll begin.

Friday's viewing fun began with the definitive documentary regarding probably the world's greatest writer/producer/director; the God-like Saint Roger of Corman with Alex Stapleton's CORMAN’S WORLD: EXPLOITS OF A HOLLYWOOD REBEL.



Frankly if you don't know who Corman is you really shouldn't be reading this.

Or in fact, breathing.

Suffice to say t'was magnificent, entertaining and highly informative plus it gave us the opportunity to see legendary screen fatman and pro-golfer Jack Nicholson have a nervous breakdown on screen.

Which more than justified the ticket price but more importantly made up for the sheer celluloid abomination that was...

TAPE 407: THE MESA RESERVE INCIDENT.
Dir (in the loosest possible sense): Dale Fabrigar and Evette Wallin.
Cast: Abigail Schrader, Samantha Lester, James Lyons, Brendan Patrick Connor, Melanie Lyons and Barney the Dinosaur.




It's New Years Eve and sisters Trish (ear piercing voiced junior voyeur) and Jesse kissy lipped and box faced) have just boarded Optima Flight 37A flying home to Los Angeles from New York after a Christmas vacation.

Unfortunately the fact that the flight is populated by so many clichéd characters (young married couple, drunk fattie, freelance photojournalist, stroke victim - no sorry that's just Samantha Lester's normal expression) mixed with some 60's Star Trek style shaky cam causes the plane to crash land in the local park.

Sorry I mean a remote government-testing area.

Luckily it breaks in two meaning that there's only half a set to build.

Phew.

Beware: the bin men.



Lurching drunkenly from the wreckage as tho' their careers depended on it, the survivors barely have enough time to begin to annoy the audience by spouting dialogue that was a hackneyed even before speech was invented before they're attacked by an unknown enemy.

An unknown enemy that looks a wee bit like this:




Only much, much shitter.

Amateur crap-fest or post-modern ironic statement?

YOU decide.


Next up (after some much needed nicotine and Irn Bru) was the claustrophobically creepy....



CRAWL.
Dir: Paul China
Cast: George Shevtsov, Georgina Haig, Paul Holmes, Andy Barclay and
Lynda Stoner.

And without giving too much away, sweat stained sleazeball cum bar owner Slim Walding (Holmes, son of Mycroft and Brother of Eamon) has recently hired a cowboy hatted Croatian hit man (Shevtsov, bless you) to murder his former pal, a local garage owner over an unpaid debt.

"You chased me...I chase you now thank you".


The crime is carried out with cold Croatian cruelty by the behatted badman and, unbeknownst to Slim a dirty double cross is being played against our pub profiteering pal.

Unluckily for them (but luckily for the audience) the whole thing goes to Hell in a handbag after one of Slim's waitresses, the scrummy toed Marilyn (Road Train's Haig) becomes unwittingly involved after the hitman accidentally runs over her fiancé.

Bloody violence, vile killings and cake abuse follows.

Captivating, cool and classy, the China brothers are a pair to watch.

Not in a stalking way tho' obviously, I just mean in a follow their careers kinda way.

Unlike the high Scrabble score that is Doug Aarniokoski (the man behind Highlander: Endgame) after being subjected to his 'post apocalyptic flesh-eating fantasy...

THE DAY.
Dir: Doug Aarniokoski
Cast: Dominic Monaghan, Shawn Ashmore, Cory Hardrict, Ashley Bell and
Shannyn Sossamon.




It's Tuesday 22nd March, just passed half seven which means it must be the start of the apocalypse.

For some reason best known to writer Luke Passmore, most of Earth's population have turned into pikey cannibals leaving the few survivors to wander around the bleak, burned out landscape wearing neatly trimmed beards and a collection of Millet's overcoats.

Ashley Bell: Thighs you could ski down.

Our tale focuses on five such survivors, desperate to find a safe place to plant the worlds last remaining sunflower seeds.

No really.

As is the way with such things our heroes are low on ammunition, food and charisma plus the token black guy is really poorly leaving them no choice but to hole up in an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

But the whole place is an elaborate Heath Robinson style cannibal trap and it's not long before our veggie pals are fighting for survival against the man meat munching mentalists.

And one of the survivors has a dark secret (and frankly stunning thighs) of her own.

Earnestly shot thru' a gauze of beige seriousness, The Day desperately wants to be seen as a proper grown ups movie shouting it's question 'Who are the real monsters?' as if it's never been asked before whilst totally failing to give a reason for mankind's fall into cannibalism (it would probably get in the way of the long lingering looks the cast give each other) preferring to dollop on sickly serious 'character' scenes and cod Twelve Angry Men moral arguments before giving up completely and morphing into a grey scale version of Assault On Precinct 13.

You would. Twice.
 Luckily the final shot almost makes up for the proceeding 90 minutes.

Almost.

Luckily the final Friday movie (not Jason Goes To Hell obviously) promised to be a winner; Nazi zombies Vs. members of The Bill cast sporting dodgy playground American accents in what has become Lithuania's most expensive film.

They couldn't fuck this up.

Could they?
 



WAR OF THE DEAD.
Dir: Marko Makilaakso
Cast: Andrew Tiernan, Mikko Leppilampi, Samuel Vauramo, Jouko Ahola and Mark Winget.

Now pay attention because this could get confusing.

Way back in 1939 in a hidden bunker somewhere in the woods behind the directors house the evil Nazi's (as opposed to the nice ones) began carrying out scary anti-death experiments on captured Russian soldiers in the hope of creating an army of jumping, leaping and biting zombies.

So far so good.

Anyway, jump forward two years later and a joint squad of Finnish and American troops are on a top secret mission to seize that very same underground bunker from the Russian troops stationed to defend it.

Hmmm....now my history isn't that great but weren't the Finnish collaborating with Germany at this time?

And weren't the Russians our allies?

And more importantly why were there Russian forces guarding a secret Nazi base in the first place?

Clarkson finally flips at the Hamster on Top Gear.

But there's no time to fret about historical accuracies because within 5 minutes of the movie starting our wartime heroes are being attacked by the undead as they leap out of trees, jump of roofs and generally cause all manner of trouble whilst dribbling like John Leslie in a playground.

And that's it really.

For over an hour.

Without even a hint of irony or humour.

Basically a Call of Duty: World at War: Zombies movie for people too thick to hold a joypad.

Luckily for those scarred by the visual molestation that was War of The Dead were given fresh hope for mankind on Saturday morning with a screening of the frankly bonkers...

EVIDENCE.
Dir: Howie Askins.
Cast: Abigail Richie, Ashley Bracken, Brett Rosenberg and Ryan McCoy.




Heading out to the woods for a weekend camping with his girlfriend Abi and pals Ashley and Brett, geek boy Ryan decides it might be a laugh to make a documentary about it.

Especially as poor Brett hates camping.

It all starts off well enough with the booze a flowing and the friends chatting around the camp fire but all that will suddenly change...

And that, frankly is all I can say.

Genuinely terrifying, Evidence takes the by now safe and cosy ‘found footage’ genre by the hand, leading it gently up the garden path for the first 30 or so minutes then suddenly and without warning beats it senseless with a crowbar before violently buggering it up the arse.

Keep away from reviews and previews (even the back of the box), buy it, jump in cold and prepare to experience one of the most mind blowing horror movies of recent years.

She might look upset now but just wait till the mooth shite-in starts.

After the visual and aural assault that was Evidence what was needed was a stiff drink, an even stiffer retired Colonel, some cough sweets, the hot one from Do You Like Hitchcock's? cleavage and a darkly amusing Argentinan that hopefully isn't still obsessed with the Falklands.

Which brings us nicely to...

PENUMBRA.
Dir: Adrian Garcia Bogliano
Argentina 2011
Cristina Brondo, Camila Bordonaba, Berta Muniz, Arnaldo Andre and Mirella Pascual.



The incredibly angry yet incredibly hot Marga (Brondo from Hypnos and my darkest fantasies) is on a business assignment in Buenos Aires - a place she despises more than anything else in the world - whilst also trying to find a new tenant for the decrepit apartment she and her sister were left a few years before.

All of that is about to change tho' when a man named Jorge arrives suddenly at the apartment.

Assuming he's there for a viewing Marga proceeds to show him around and, upon the realising that he represents an incredibly wealthy client (probably) who is wanting the apartment that very day for more than twice the going price, Marga decides to cancel all her previous engagements and wait a cash payout for her family’s apartment.

Steps: The pikey years.

But as more and more of Jorge’s bizarre work colleagues (including pop pixie Camila Bordonaba from  Argentine band Erreway in a fantastic cameo) begin to show up, each attempting to both placate and ultimately manipulate Marga, she begins to suspect that there's a little bit more than a quick sale on their minds.

Plus why is every one of them obsessed with the oncoming solar eclipse?

Part blackly comic social commentary, part paranoia fuelled conspiracy, Bogliano's creepy comedy of (t)errors split audiences down the middle; half loved the scene where olive skinned Cristina Brondo's pert breasts were slowly oiled up in glorious close-up whilst others felt the scene just wasn't long enough.

And should really have been in 3-D.

Five fingers...never touched the sides.


And me?

I just loved it all.

Alas there was little time for a discussion on the finer point of breast oiling as it was time to bring a little bit of class to the proceedings with what I assumed was a motion picture version of the Igor Stravinsky ballet.

Originally choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky and with set design and costumes by the infamous Russian mystic, painter, philosopher, scientist and writer Nicholas Roerich, It was first staged by producer Sergei Diaghilev especially for his world renowned Ballets Russes ballet company in Paris on 29 May 1913.

Nicholas Roerich: clever clogs.



Originally I was a wee bit sceptical on how this would translate for the modern day horror audience but, in a pre-movie chat  director Padraig Reynolds assured us that he'd made minimal changes, really just little things like the date and stuff.

Relieved I sat back ready to enjoy...

RITES OF SPRING.
Dir: Padraig Reynolds
Cast: Anessa Ramsey, AJ Bowen, Sonny Marinelli, Marco St. John and John Evenden.



Way back in the spring of 1984 in the small town of Enrico's Buff, five teenage girls mysteriously vanished.

With the town panicked and the residents daughters locked up at night the  disappearances stopped as suddenly as they began.

Everything was forgotten until the following spring when the disappearances began again, continuing for the next 24 years.

No bodies were ever recovered.

No one was ever caught.

Until that is the humid spring of 2008 when someone or something managed to break the cycle of terror that had enveloped the town.

This film tells that story.

"Sorry I have my woman's period".



A story that also features a nutty as squirrel shit religious rascal obsessed with kidnapping young girls, cellar bound beasts, undeserved redundancies and a kidnap plot.

And all shot in the style of Jeepers Creepers.

Scary, stylish, well acted and directed yet ultimately safe, Reynolds' infectious enthusiasm makes you want to love the movie more than you do meaning you leave the screening feeling more like you've just shagged your best pals missis rather than watch a bloody good frightener.

Hopefully he'll up the bad taste, creepy townsfolk mentality for part 2.

Or take a leaf from Dale Fabrigar and Evette Wallin's book and add a dinosaur.

Maybe even a dinosaur with oily breasts?

Just a thought.

"Ahm shaggin' yer weans!"


Which leads nicely into the next movie, which again I can't say too much about because it is, quite frankly a work of utter genius.

L’ARRIVO DI WANG/ WANG’S ARRIVAL.
Directors: Manetti bros.
Italy 2011
Ennio Fantastichini, Francesca Cuttica, Li Yong, Juliet Essy Jospeph and Antonello Moroni.



It starts as just another depressingly dull day for scrumptious interpreter Gaia (Cuttica, meow) subtitling low rent Chinese-language comedies when suddenly she’s contacted by the Italian authorities to see if she'd be interested in doing a little bit of translating work for them.

Thrice.


 After a wee bit of humming and ahhing the draw of leaving dismal comedies behind (at least for a while) coupled with the promise of a huge wad of cash proves too great to resist and  Gaia excitedly heads of to a top secret location in order to interview a certain Mr. Wang, a Mandarin speaking non Italian national who appears to have entered the country illegally.


"Is it a banana?"

A modern day Rod Serling inspired morality play from the fantastic Manetti brothers, L’ARRIVO DI WANG is quite simply one of the two must see films of this year.

Tho' it'll probably be retitled by then, hopefully as THE VISITOR because that was my suggestion and the cash would be nice.

And talking of films you shouldn't miss, this penultimate movie wasn't one of them.

It's scary sppoks 'n' creepy gooks big budget Hollywood style which means, no doubt it'll turn into a huge steaming pile of...

CASSADAGA.
Director: Anthony DiBlasi
USA 2011
Kelen Coleman, Kevin Alejandro, Louise Fletcher, Lucius Baston and J. LaRose.



Shockingly (for all the wrong reasons) opening with a retread of Pieces as a bowl haired wee boy in a dress cuts off his cock and bollocks with a pair of rusty scissors, the film swiftly jumps forward to 'the modern day' where deaf art teacher Lily Morel (Coleman channelling a plump Natalie Portman vibe whilst wearing the tiniest skirts ever seen on teaching staff) is totally distraught (and a wee bit upset) after the totally non ironic death by school bus (after a chat about how learning stuff is fun) of her younger sister (played it seems by Edward Furlong in a wig).

A younger sister who had to go into foster care after their mother died until Lily (recovering from deafness inducing meningitis)  was old enough to adopt her.

There's a hard luck tale then there's taking the piss.

Pardon?


Deciding to move back to her mothers home town of Cassadaga, a Florida based spooky spiritualist type community populated by skinny black men carrying coffins around at night, paramedics who look like James Franco and nurse Ratchett, Lily takes a teaching job at the local school and a room from local academic Claire (Fletcher) and her masturbation obsessed son Brian.

No sooner has she started work than she starts seeing hunky single dad (of the biggest faced child actor you will ever see) Mike (Alejandro), goes on a date to see a psychic and ends up being haunted by a mysterious girl who was murdered by a secret member of the cast ten years earlier. 

Brittany Murphy: The comeback.

Cue 90 minutes of nonsensical serial murders, overwrought wanking, inappropriately short skirts, conceptual confusion and a killer who wears a summer dress, apron and welders mask.

But with none of the joy and happiness that list should bring to an audience.

Part deep south shocker and part murder mystery with a huge dollop of film making by numbers added for a laugh, Cassadaga is ultimately a soulless and  joyless committee made monstrosity which by it's very nature will probably be more successful than anything else on the list.

And that's really scary.

Saying all that tho' it does have the dubious honour of being the only movie heckled over the whole weekend.

Having to leave the cinema for half an hour so that security could search for hidden cameras etc. (yes! it was really that exciting!) gave us all enough time to prepare ourselves physically and mentally for what promised to be the highlight of not just the festival but of the entire history of cinema.

But could a big Welshman aided by a tiny Indonesian really be the saviours of modern cinema?



THE RAID.
Dir: Gareth Evans.
Cast: Iko Uwais, Doni Alamsyah, Yayan Ruhain, Ray Sahetapy and Joe Taslim.

In the poorest neighbourhood of Indonesia's poorest city lies a 15-storey building run by the countries most ruthless gangster and home to it's  most dangerous criminals.

And today's the day that the cities tough as boots police chief has decided to bring the law to this vile cesspit of lawlessness.

With an elite SWAT force hand picked for the job successfully penetrating the buildings outer defences you know it's only a matter of time before the whole operation goes tits up.

And tits up it goes spectacularly leaving a handful of battered cops trapped inside the labyrinth corridors of the apartment block with no way out.

And surrounded by Indonesia's most ruthless gangsters, evil drug barons, hardened killers and machete wielding street gangs.

But tough young cop Rama (Iko Uwais) is determined to complete the mission, a mission that takes on a more personal perspective when he spots a face from his past amid the confusion.

All hail the new king of action directors, Lord Gareth of Evans, reuniting with his MERANTAU: THE WARRIOR star Iko Uwais for quite possibly THE great action film ever made.

Imagine Die Hard, Assault on Precinct 13 and Ong Bak remixed, rejigged and re-fashioned into a 90 minute burst of pure adrenaline that fires straight from the screen and into your eyeballs before infecting your whole body with hyper real, high tension madness.

What can I say?

Better than the best thing ever.

Twice.

See it, buy it, offer to have Evans and Uwais babies then thank the Lord for people like them.

The perfect ending to probably the strongest and friendliest Frightfest ever.

Too gushy?

Sorry, I'll go find some shite to watch.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

move over Megan....

It's the glass shattering voiced, camera obsessed Trish, last seen on Optima Flight 37A flying from New York to Los Angeles on New Years Eve, 2008 alongside her fish lipped box faced sister Jesse.

Just call to say you're OK.



Actually it's probably better if you just text, your voice would possibly burst my eardrum.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

frightful.

Yup it's that time of year again, you know the one where I end up changing interweb provider, lose my connection for a month and end up blogging from my phone.

Oh yeah and it's Glasgow FrightFest weekend.



One cinema, two days, hundreds of horror geeks, half dozen sweaty, high waisted folk who live at home with their disabled mums, twelve new horror titles, ten UK premieres and the unmistakable smell of sweat, shame, semen and tears.

Beginning with a tribute to the wonderful Sir Roger of Corman other films threatening to frighten us all on Friday this year include the found footage cum disaster movie 'TAPE 407: THE MESA RESERVE INCIDENT', the hands and knees obsessed 'CRAWL', apocalyptic adventure with 'THE DAY' and the 'does what it says on the tin' 'WAR OF THE DEAD'.

Which one will make the wheelchair bound man walk out in disgust this year?

Happy Glasgow punters at last years Frightfest.
 

Saturday shocks include 'EVIDENCE', 'PENUMBRA' (hopefully nothing to do with the mental health charity which aims to improve mental well being throughout Scotland), a horror version of Igor Stravinsky's ballet 'RITES OF SPRING' (possibly),  the rude sounding 'L'ARRIVO DI WANG', the sweaty looking 'CASSADANGA' and the frankly bonkers action epic 'THE RAID'.

Something for everyone methinks.

The director of Little Deaths at last years event.


And if that wasn't enough they'll be appearances from CRAWL director Paul China, Antonio and Marco Manetti; the men behind 'WANG', Padraig Reynolds, director RITES OF SPRING as well as the artist behind Geretta Geretta's DEMONS sequel WHATEVER HAPPENED TO ROSEMARY BABY?

Oh, that's me isn't it.

So come join us for a weekend of Argentinean demons (that are for once not interested in the Falklands), mutant cannibals, drunks fighting over crisps, a Chinese-speaking alien and a Pinocchio obsessed mentalist.

You love it.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

people you fancy but shouldn't part 37.

The strictly sexy Hotel Inspector herself, Alex Polizzi. A gorgeous mix of every teacher you ever fancied crossed with the classic cinema femme fatale.

Enjoy.





Tuesday, February 14, 2012

wide awake club.

The Sleeper (2012).
Dir: Justin Russell.
Cast: Brittany Belland, Luke Frost, Paul Moon, Tiffany Arnold, Beverly Kristy, Jessica Cameron, Riana Ballo, Ali Ferda, Jenna Fournier, Elizabeth Lane and Jason Jay Crabtree.





It's 1981 (allegedly, tho' some of the fashions and body art say otherwise) and the girls of Alpha Gamma Theta sorority house are organising a pledge party.

And being British I have absolutely no idea what this means, apart from what I've seen in Bob Clarks 1974 shocker Black Christmas which, if I'm honest seems to be the directors sole point of reference too.

Anyway back to the plot where the strangely gerbil-faced, felt pen browed college newbie Amy (Belland, snigger, looking for the world like a hook-handed child's photofit picture of Melissa Joan Hart) is desperate to become a Theta sister, her punky 'n' spunky best friend Ava (Ferda, who thanks to the lighting and make-up folk, goes from being an almost Barbara Steele-like beauty to something unnameable between scenes which frankly can be a wee bit off-putting if you get my drift) however thinks such things are a bit rubbish and enjoys gently taking the piss out of her pal.

"He did WHAT in his cup?"
 Being best buds tho' Ava soon realises how much this means to Amy and offers to give her moral support at the sorority house 'getting to know you' bash.

Which is kinda sweet I guess.

Well it would be if a potato headed mad mentalist hadn't decided to choose that very same night to begin terrorising the house with a series of frankly bizarro (and thanks to the sound mix unintelligible) phone calls regarding the girls sleeping habits and the like.

Oh and how he's going to murder them.

To death.

Shite in mah....well shite everywhere if I'm honest.


So begins a night (well a few days) of total bloody mayhem coupled with some atrocious sound, a wee spot of line dancing, a bout of clumsily edited murders and a couple of cases of cringe-inducing cardboard acting that would make a cereal box proud.

Welcome to Fright(ful) Night.

"Yeah!!!!!!!!!! Rat fans!!!!" The CGI costs for those eyebrows musta blown the budget. And your dad.


Unfortunately coming across more simple minded than simply plotted, The Sleeper tries bravely to resurrect the 80's slasher movie genre for a modern audience with it's pseudo-Goblin soundtrack, (hopefully) stilted performances and threadbare production values but unfortunately falls at the first hurdle.

The direction.

Kudos to director/producer/writer/stuntman/cinematographer/teaboy/snow wrangler/magician/sound editor/film editor Justin Russell for believing in his project so much but it's painfully obvious due to the complete lack of suspense on show that directing isn't really his forte.

And neither is editing if the bodged murder scenes are owt to go by.

And thanks to a script full of shaky logic and glaring inconsistencies he should stay away from writing too.

Being kind tho' I wont mention the atrocious sound mix (no idea who did this), the bizarre day to night and back again goofs and the fact that an eighties based character (stand up Riana Ballo as Sexy swim-star. Stacy) sports noughties tattoos.

Pop some make-up on it or shoot her from slightly higher up, you can still see her tits.

A pair of breasts yesterday.


For those of us old enough to remember the eighties it's this lack of proper research that really lets it down, it might have a slight sheen of the era about it but things like the fashions, haircuts and eyebrows let it down.

In saying that, credit where it's due so fair play for the fantastic disco dancing sequence, choreographed by the directors missis I assume from the amount of screentime given to the un-named lead dancer.

Quite possibly the greatest bit of the movie as well as the best dance number I've ever seen in an 80's slasher homage.

Which would be OK if we were watching Footloose I guess but not if we were watching Toolbox Murders if you get what I'm saying.

STOP! Hammer (to the face) time!


It's not all bad tho' with the likes of Luke Frost's performance as Detective Clive James being a stand out, as was the aforementioned Ali Ferda, whose burgeoning friendship with sweet hearted sorority girl Laura (Fournier) is a joy to watch, hopefully the pair will team up again soon.

Oiled and naked in my basement would be great but in another movie would do I guess.

It's a pity then that the fate of these two characters is (again) fudged by bad editing and budgetary restraints.

If I'm sounding harsh it's only because I'm still reeling from how great Donner Pass was and from how much I wanted to love this too.

Maybe next time, if he gets that extra tenner and promises to share the work load out a bit more, Russell might just deliver the goods.

And there's enough on show here to get vaguely excited at that thought.

Tho' not as excited as the thought of Ali Ferda and Jenna Fournier appearing in a remake of Naked Killer.

he loves you not.

Hope you enjoyed your Valentines Day.

I know we did.


Wednesday, February 8, 2012

still missing.

Just a quick note for all of our American cousins that keep stumbling across my blog whilst searching for your next filthy Megan is Missing fix.

Megan: She might look apprehensive now but just wait till the mooth shite-in' starts.

I don't know how to break this to you all but the film is PRETEND!

Yup that's right....IT'S NOT REAL, she's an actress, she's even on Facebook and I know this will dissapoint you but alas I never killed her.

Yes that's right she's alive and not really in my basement.

which does mean that there's room for YOU!

Thanks for listening.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

song 2.

A very quick review of Vincent D’Onofrio's directorial debut I've got important 'housey' things to do), a film it appears I'm the only person in the world to have enjoyed.

Scary eh?

Don’t Go In The Woods (2011).
Dir: Vincent D’Onofrio.
Cast: Bo Boddie, Gwynn Galitzer, Jorgen Jorgenson, Soomin Lee, Ali Tobia, Cassandra Walker and Matt Sbeglia.



Self satisfied control freak cum lead singer of up and coming rock band Crème Brûlée Nick Storm (a fantastic performance by Sbeglia, looking and acting like a young David Hess) has forced his groovy group to spend the weekend camping in the woods (woods that a sign announces that they shouldn't go in), away from everyone in order to work on their new album in the hope of getting a record deal with Simon Cowell.

Beware the bin men.

Unfortunately his band mates want to have a charty party, bringing along booze and the 'marijuana' as well as their instruments and Nick, as reasonable as ever tips the booze in the river and sticks the hash up his arse before smashing everyone's mobile phones with a handy axe.

Which is nice.

"Bang bang bang the drum of justice! See how fast the bastard burns!"


If that wasn't enough to upset his weekend, just as the 'jam session' (as you young things call it) is picking up speed his ex-girlfriend Ashley (Walker) turns up with a car full of hot young tottie carrying a fine selection of beers, crisps and snacks.

"Shite in mah mooooooooooooooth!"


As the booze flows and the songs grow none of the tuneful teens notice the dark figure stalking them from the trees.

Is it an unhappy fan?

The manager who followed them to the camp-site?

The scary combat clad hunters out looking for deer?

Or is it the enigmatic Mr. Cowell himself? Desperate to put the X in Axe Factor?

All we know is that anyone who can carry a tune ends up carrying their guts home in a bag and the only label they'll sign to is Stiff.

Cowell: Teen murdering psychopath, allegedly.

Coming across like a Sean S Cunningham directed episode of Glee, Don't Go in the Woods is a lovingly crafted musical slasher that oozes with a perfectly captured 70's style thru' every pore; from the almost burnt out colour scheme to the to the folk style soundtrack and lead Matt Sbeglia's aforementioned resemblance to a Last House on The Left era David Hess, even his vocal performance is similar.

Of the other cast members Ali Tobia, last seen in the Zman 'classic' The Killing Machines is great as the hapless Melinda as is Cassandra Walker who's winsome without ever being whiny.

This is indeed a movie made by someone with a genuine love for that era.

Which is why the Saw obsessed, Rob Zombie worshipping wee boys that make up the majority of the horror fest' crowds hate it.

The nearest they've ever been to a video nasty is accidentally finding their parents home made porn.

Watch out watch out there's a bin man about!


Like the movies behatted, schizophrenic killer, Don’t Go In The Woods is at once comfortably familiar and somehow still daringly different.

See it now and I promise you'll never have trouble getting off with a lady ever again.


Probably.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

comics greatest fight scenes part one.

Captain America Vs. The Butterfly.