Friday, March 29, 2013

face off.

Mask Maker (AKA Masakerade, 2010).
Dir: Griff Furst
Cast: Nikki Deloach, Stephen Colletti, Terry Kiser, Anabella Casanova, Michael Berryman, Treat Williams and Ross Britz.



The sickeningly loved up Jennifer (Days of Our Lives toothsome Deloach) and Evan (One Tree Hill's Colletti) have recently become the proud owners of a massive farmhouse somewhere in the sunny south.

And even better is the fact that it only cost them 68 quid.

Which is probably due to the fact that the last owner was an evil witch with a predilection for murdering newborns and her ball headed son.

Could have been worse I suppose, it could of belonged to Jimmy Savile. 

With Jennifer's birthday fast approaching Evan decides to plan a weekend of partying and decorating, inviting their four best buddies along to help.

Just get Fred West in to tidy the place up and it'll be good as new.


Being the conscientious type who reads the script before shooting, Jennifer is intrigued by the amount of shite left by the previous owners around the house - you know the type of stuff, crying boy pictures, ceramic rabbits and Charles and Diana plates - becoming more and more curious about their past.

"Well who's for a wee shite cap?"


Luckily the local shop keeper's pal featured in the pre-credits sequence meaning that he can happily fill Jennifer (phnarr) on the pesky back story.

Or he would if he wasn't pissed.

it's a good job then that good old Michael (The Hills Have Eyes) Berryman is on hand to warn our heroine of an evil presence that lingers around the house.

Everything should be OK tho' as long as no-one pulls the big stick out of the garden in the back of the house, therefore releasing the fearful 'Mask Maker'.

Or Leonard as he's known to his friends.

Meanwhile back at the house Evan and his buddies are busy tidying the garden, starting with pulling up all the messy twigs and sticks spoiling the lawn.

Surprisingly the start with the really big one with the skull on top.

Not too surprisingly bloodshed and hilarity ensues as our undead arts and crafts expert hunts the teens down one by one before messily bludgeoning them to death with an axe and finally wearing their faces like some nightmarish Avid Merrion tribute act.

Bo Selecta indeed.


"Put it in me!"



From the stud-tastic Griff Furst, director of Arachnoquake (amongst other classics that sit happily in my secret cupboard) comes this fairly inoffensive (if totally and utterly predictable) yet fairly inoffensive hodge-podge of every other slasher movie ever made.

Providing you've never ever seen one before obviously.

Every genre cliche is dragged drunkenly kicking and dribbling across the screen thru' the films 90 minute running time in an attempt to entertain the no doubt mindless masses the movie is aimed at.

Which is lucky for me seeing as despite everything I found it a mostly pain free way of spending an evening.

Tho' to be fair I had just attempted to sit thru' Jay Woelfel's cinematic crapfest Carnival of Fear (AKA Closed For The Season), so even a warm Guinness enema would seem appealing after that.

In it's favour tho' it may be cliche-sodden nonsense but it's definitely much more enjoyable than bigger budgeted bollocks like Texas Chainsaw 3D.

And the cast are, by and large considerably more attractive.

And that includes the big ball headed bad man himself.


Breasts + bubbles x pretty lips - visible nipples = violent mooth shite-in madness. Possibly.


Plus to make the movie a more interactive and therefore more entertaining experience than usual (and it'll give the hand that's not ready with the remote pause button a break) why not make a Top Trump style list of all the scenes you've seen before?

Award yourself a point for every one you spot and see who wins amongst your friends.

I would suggest you take a drink for every one but seriously you'd die of liver failure before the 20 minute mark.


Insert cock here.



Here's a few to get you started:

Deformed killer with mommy issues?

Check.

Killer who makes masks from the faces of his victims?

Check.

Heroine dresses as killers mum to confuse him?

Check.

Least attractive cast member gets naked. Twice?

I'll leave that one up to you.


"Touch my meat".



Mask Maker may not set the horror genre on fire (but then again neither will your sister once your uncle's finished with her) but like the sibling in question it's a fairly fun way to pass an hour or two without too much effort on your part.

Just remember to hide your wallet afterwards. 

(pre) video tasties.

In those heady days before VHS - between 1961 and 1966 to be precise - those groovy Italians created the next best thing for rthose of us wanting to relive our favourite horror movies; the fantastic foto magazine Mal├Ča.

Each issue retold a movies story in crisp B & W photo form over 60 pages and the series itself covered a remarkable array of horror films from across the globe taking in Italy, Mexico, Spain, dear old Blighty and the USA.

Enjoy!























 

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

fish lips.

Sorry 'bout the delay but I appeared to have OD-ed on bad movies recently so had to take time off to recover.

Forgive me.

Anyway, it's a good job that part of my recovery was to watch...

Super Shark (2011).
Dir: Fred Olen Ray. 
Cast: John Schneider, Sarah Lieving, Tim Abell, Rya Meyers, Jerry Lacy, Jimmie “J.J.” Walker and a (super) shark.

That's one big ass shark!

Well it saves you having to sit thru' it but for those of you actually like this genre you'll know that it's the norm in modern monster shark based movies it's always due to a pesky offshore drilling accident that the titular beast is released/awoken/reanimated.

The unique thing this time is that the entire operation appears to have been constructed out of Lego in someones bath.

Which kinda adds to the movies (wet) dream-like quality I guess.

Anyway there's no time to guffaw over the visual effects as we're suddenly hurtled into the plot good and proper were a couple of expendable wet-suited lobster lovers are busy taking photo's of their fave animal whilst a silicon enhanced woman rubs chip fat onto her stomach and lies about on deck.

Unfortunately we have little time to get to know these obviously important characters as mere seconds after the appearance of those frankly terrifying breasts the aforementioned super shark has scoffed the divers and eaten the poor damsel too.

He's that kinda fish.

"Hey! Ya got tits an' tonsils? Well yer hired!"

Enter (but not roughly from behind obviously) marine biologist Katherine 'Kat' Carmichael (fish lipped Lieving from that other creature classic Monster) a sharp suited ex- FBI (Fish Bureau of Investigation) agent ready to kick some pollution based arse, especially if the arse belongs to the luxuriously haired head of the oil company Mr. Roger Wade (ex Duke of Hazzard and current low budget beast botherer Schneider), whom she blames for some stuff.

John....raise your hand from under the desk very slowly....


Meanwhile back at the beach, hunky surfer type Jeff Sexington has returned home from college for the summer to take up the position of studly lifeguard alongside his ex-girlfriend Edna and the bookish ginger princess Calli (Meyers, the only memorable one of the three. Can you tell?).

it looks like it's gonna be love triangles ahoy tho' seeing as Calli loves Jeff but Jeff still has feelings for Edna with it all coming to a head at superstar DJ Dynamite Stevens (Jimmie “J.J.” Walker, no me neither) Ms. Wet T-Shirt night.

Really, I shit you not.

Rya Meyers reaction to this review.

Luckily everyone involved is eaten the next day leaving the script free to concentrate on the up till now useless Ms. Carmichael and her newly discovered sidekick and comedy sea captain, Skipper Chuck (the thinking woman's Jason London, Abell here seen channelling Kurt Russell's glorious Captain Ron by way of a drunken uncle) and their attempts to find then kill the shark.

But don't worry, there are plenty more unnecessary breast shots to go before then.

Plus the shark has still to fight a kiddies toy submarine and pluck a fighter jet from the sky before it's secret is revealed...

Yup, the frighteningly fake fucker can use it's fins to walk on land.

No, really.

Well I guess that does make it a kinda super shark.

Plus it makes a better title than CG-ed Shark Shite Fest I guess.


"Do you need any scissors sharpening?"


Don't get too scared tho'  dear readers for as luck would have it the dear old US army have a secret weapon for just such an emergency.

A walking tank.

That's all you need to know really.


I don't have the words.



God bless director, producer, screenwriter, actor, cinematographer and sometime wrestler Fred Olen Ray who after such an auspicious start in the business way back in 1971 with the frankly fantastic Demented Death Farm Massacre has given us such delights as Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers, the Buster Crabbe starrer The Alien Dead and Evil Toons amongst others too many (and sometimes just too awful) to mention.

It's good to know that after nearly 600 years in the business he can still be relied on to deliver the goods.

Even if in this case the goods are a large plastic looking fish fighting a dog in an cut price AT-AT suit whilst a crack commando unit of three look on.

"Shite in mah big fish mooth!"



Obviously realizing he couldn't attract the fantastic Brooke Hogan back to the monster genre, Ray decided (wisely) to cut back on characterization and memorable dialogue and concentrate solely a motley collection bikini babes of various sizes and shapes either dancing to shit R and B, strutting their stuff on the sand like lobotomized Barbies or getting eaten by the shark.

Obviously the thinking behind this is that no red blooded male could fail to enjoy 80 odd minutes of 'gorgeous' girls in bikinis plus a big monster, which would be true if one of those bikini clad beauties was Unwell fave and monster fighter extraordinaire Corinne Nobili, who showed us how a bikini should be worn in the 2012 classic Two Headed Shark Attack.

Which bizarrely enough was directed by Fred's son Christopher.

I'm getting a headache just thinking about it so here's a nice picture of Ms. Nobili to finish with.

Any excuse for a photo of Corinne Nobili.

I forgot to mention if it's worth the rental didn't I?

Well if you've made it this far I think you know the answer.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

summer lovin'.

bloggers back to normal and I've got shed loads of stuff to go thru' so to keep you all busy till then here's a fantastic guide to the harmless hobby of 'girl collecting' (or as the courts today call it stalking and abduction) from the June 1959 issue of the late lamented Girl Watching magazine.

Enjoy.

And no blaming me if the police get involved.




Tuesday, March 12, 2013

when cosplay goes bad part 37.







Monday, March 11, 2013

chuckle vision*

This should have been posted yonks ago but bastard blogger kept deleting my review.

Do you think they're trying to tell me something?

Apologies in advance for the shoddiness of the review, obviously the lost version was by far superior.

Anyway, third time lucky.....

As a treat for being a good boy recently, Lady Lamont picked up this fantastic value triple pack from our local supermarket for a brand spankingly bargainous £5.



How could this terrifying threesome be anything other than great?

Obviously we had to start with the most monstrously sounding film first.


Bunnyman (AKA The Bunnyman Massacre, 2009).
Dir: Carl Lindberg
Cast: Scott Kuza, David Scott, Alaina Gianci, Lucia Sullivan, Cheryl Texiera, Matthew Stiller, Veronica Wylie and Matthew Phillips.

"Shit, alright, we've learned our lesson!"


Welcome to the arse end of Backwoodsville USA, where a bunch of college buddies are enjoying the long ride to Vegas.

Well that's what it says on the back of the box.

Enjoying the scenery our fairly fucked six-some are surprised when a big truck - first seen in a ropey pre-credits sequence being driven by a man with furry feet - 
appears from nowhere and tries to ram them off the road before revving away.

This continues for about twenty minutes when at that point the director reckons he's wasted enough time to continue with the plot good and proper which means the Duel copying truck driver finally succeeds in forcing the car off the road and into a convenient tree.

Ouch.

Beware: This van is not full of sweets.




Luckily one of the group, Jack (Kuza, like it matters) is a mechanic and is soon on his back fiddling underneath the car.

Which would probably be OK if the terrifying trucker hadn't decided a short while later to ram them again, squashing Jack flat.

A lucky escape for him methinks.

Deciding the best way to escape from the devilish driver is to runaway our surviving pals leg it into the bushes where they soon come across an inbred mentalist (whose house is surrounded by inverted crosses and bags of bones) with a gun fetish and an untempered erection who shouts a lot.

"Gerroff mah lahnd an' gerrin mah mooth ya bashtad!"


Deciding that a forced buggering isn't top of their agenda right now the remaining five make their excuses and leave, deciding that if they walk in a perfectly straight line till nightfall not only will they find help but will ultimately forget all about Jack.

Which they do within about 5 minutes.

Bastards.

Luckily (for us and them) night soon falls meaning that:

A. We don't have to look at their punchable faces as much

and

B. Everyone knows scary shit happens at night.

Unfortunately in this case it's just two folk, a pube-haired hillbilly and a sexy (in a pram-faced council estate kinda way) woman sitting in a car.

I bet Tobe Hooper is shitting himself right now.

Not due to him being a more talented film-maker more more due to his age obviously.


You know a film's low budget when they can't even afford to give one actress an arse.

Unable to give them a ride to town due to pubey having a really contagious case of rickets, the lady (Brian I think her name was but it's been that long since I watched this I can't be sure) suggests that they go stay in the blood spattered and seemingly abandoned cabin a few miles back and that she'll  come pick them up the next morning.

Sounds legit.

Everyone reckons this is a great idea but being American aren't too used to walking so within five minutes the entire mob of them have fallen asleep under a tree.

Which does give us the opportunity to gaze at the strangely attractive Veronica Wylie as she snoozes, quietly imagining the various different things we could pop between her pretty lips.

Just me then?

Wylie: Muck shot violently over jubblies. More at ten.


 Next morning everyone wakes refreshed except the aforementioned Wylie who keeps complaining that she was kept up all night by the sound of someone chomping loudly on carrots behind a nearby bush and on going to investigate is surprised to see a man in a sub-standard market stall rabbit suit wielding a chainsaw above his head.

Her surprise however is cut short when he violently sticks it in her.

"What the fuck's up doc?"


Realizing that the rabbit is out for blood (and that there is only about 20 minutes left on the running time) our fearful foursome leg it toward the cabin only to discover it's a trap, yup the cabin belongs to Mr. Bunnyman and his family which includes the harsh faced bird, that pubey bloke and a hunchback in a pair of welding goggles.

Tho' I doubt he's qualified. 

Outnumbered, out acted and scarily out witted, our surviving saps are pitted in a battle to the death against the loopiest Leporis since Rabbit Rampage was released on the SNES back in 1994.

Who will survive?

And what will be left of their careers?



Who'd have thought that after spewing forth the atrocious Shadow of The Dead over an unsuspecting world way back in 2004 that Danish boxer (he competed in the 1924 Summer Olympics) cum writer / director / producer and editor Carl Lindberg would create a horror character to rival Leatherface in the inbred badman stakes?

Not the person that hired that bunny suit that's for sure.

But scarily enough it works.

Which is a pity seeing as the rest of the movie is just a ragbag of ideas, scenes and situations stolen from a variety of  decidedly better sources.

Oh and Wrong Turn.

Tho' it is quite pretty to look at.

And I did sit thru' the whole thing without once wanting to stab myself in the eyes.

Which is more than can be said for Lords of Salem.

But is that really a good enough reason to buy this?

Answers on a postcard please.

*As an aside, the reviews title was due to an amazing amount of hilariously conceived similarities 'tween the Bunnyman and The Chuckle Brothers fantastic Chucklehounds.

Suffice to say that this was possibly the most hilarious thing I'd ever written and would have won me scores of new followers.

It's a pity then that I can remember fuck all about it.

So here's a pic of Paul and Barry in action to make up for it: