Saturday, October 21, 2017

snatch of the day.

Day 21 of the whole tedious 31 days of 'orrah thing and we're off to Italy (again) for a real creepy classic.

Oh hang on, my mistake it appears we're watching...

Il Bosco 1 (AKA Evil Clutch. 1989).
Dir: Andreas Marfori.
Cast: The yumsome Coralina Cataldi-Tassoni, Diego Ribon, Luciano Crovato, Elena Cantarone and Stefano Molinari.

The nightmare that grabs you where you least expect it...Ipswich (possibly).

somewhere in a field in Europe (it's a small place) young master Terry Soontodie (what looks like a junked up Mark Hamill - who knew?) is walking home from his job at Kwik Fit (he's still in his overalls bless).

Hearing a noise from the local church Terry decides to investigate and is surprised to find a young(er) Maureen Lipman sitting open legged next to a fountain.


Being a hot blooded male (and obviously a fan of those old BT ads) Terry does what we'd all do in this situation and dives in for a wee bit of 'the sex'.

And all this within the first seven minutes.


Unfortunately (for him and us) at the moment of climax Maureen transforms into a pale faced, pointy toothed pikey and slaughters poor Terry.


Meanwhile back at the plot good and proper pube haired Italian stud muffin Tony (Ribon best known for his performance as Bartolotto in De Gasperi, l'uomo della speranza) and his incredibly sexy (in a kinda eighties way) girlfriend Cindy (the second hottest actress in Italian cinema Coralina Tassoni) are enjoying a romantic city break in Venice, or they would be if they both didn't have an unnatural fear of water.

And Cornetto's.

Reckoning a wee change of scenery might just save the holiday from disaster the couple decide to pack up their stuff and go camping in the Alps instead but as is always the way with these things (holidays and Italian horror movies) the lovers leisurely drive into the mountains is rudely interrupted by the appearance of a frighteningly harsh faced woman named Arva (Year of The Gun's Cantarone) running along the roadside.

Cataldi-Tassoni: truly scrumptious.

Being a gentleman (well, being unnaturally smooth) Tony pulls over to offer assistance (and an excuse to pose with his hairy arm out of the window) to Arva, who claims she was almost bummed by a bin man in a nearby cemetery.

Feeling all manly Tony offers to check out the graveyard but can find no sign of any bin men or signs of bumming, tho' the place does give him a distinctly strange sensation in his pants.

Trying not to think about it too much Tony heads back to the car and offers to drop Arva off at the nearest (bin free) village, the mysteriously named Spent, a quiet local place know for it's luxurious bowling greens, traditional ice cream shop and friendly neighbourhood nutter; the amusingly monikered Algernoon (House of Pleasure for Women's Crovato) a retired, cancer riddled horror writer with a really high pitched electronic voice box.

Obviously the wooden handed dwarf leper that sells moldy bread was busy that day.

Clad only in a soiled raincoat and Panzer commander goggles, Algernoon spends his days riding around the town on a moped scaring the children.

And Arva by the looks of things seeing that as soon as she sets sight on him she visibly shites herself and legs it into the bushes.

"Is it in yet?"

For some inexplicable reason best known to the script writers, Tony and Cindy decide it'd be really cool to hang out with him during their stay in the village and Algernoon, happy to finally have some company other than his pubic lice gives the lovers his fairly famous (and patented) guided tour of the town cum spooky ghost walk.

Kinda like a cut rate Derek Acorah crossed with a market stall speaking clock.

But less piss and shame stained obviously.

You see according to legend the outlying woods are said to be haunted by a scary sex demon who threatens to shag to death anyone foolish enough to venture outside the relative safety of the town.

Which is nice.

Derek Acorah who offered to be my 'custard cousin' not long after seducing recently widowed grandmother who'd seen his show at the SECC  Glasgow.

Understandably freaked out by such a terrifying tale (but more likely by Algernoon's voice) our delectable duo make their farewells and leave, hoping to save at least a smidgen of the romantic holiday they've waited all year for.

Driving out of town the pair notice how inviting the aforementioned woods look and soon pull over, quickly unloading their tent and stuff before heading into the trees to search for the local camp site.

But guess who's waiting for them at the picnic bench?

"Laugh now!"

Yup it's Algernoon, standing around in his pants and muttering something about dead sheep and filthy anuses.

At least I think that's what he was saying.

Cindy seems to be taking less notice of him than me tho' because no sooner has the mouldy mentalist opened his mouth than Cindy starts to angrily shout at him to sod right off and leave them alone, which he politely does leaving the pair to trot off into the undergrowth.

After wandering aimlessly for what seems like hours the couple then bump into Arva again (are she and Algernoon the only people that live in the town? Answers on a postcard please) but luckily tho' this time there are no randy rubbish collectors in sight.

Which is a blessing frankly.

Anyway, as a thank you for helping her out earlier that day Arva offers to show Tony and Cindy an abandoned church nearby that'd be a perfect pplace to spend the night.

Uh oh...sounds familiar.

After dumping their load on the steps and unrolling the extra large sleeping bag (specially made for Tony's ego), Cindy decides to step outside and watch the sunset to get herself in a romantic frame of mind in preparation for the damn good rogering she's expecting later.

Arva tho' has other idea's, hinting to Tony that she quite fancies snorting cocaine from between Cindy's buttocks whilst Tony does them both.

Up the arse obviously.

"Where's me washboard?"

Tony, being a red blooded Italian male is more than up for a wee bit of group sex but he knows that Cindy may take a little convincing.

Especially when she discovers that Arva is, in fact, the infamous sex demon mentioned earlier.

An infamous sex demon with a hairy, three-fingered claw growing out of her vagina.

And a zombie helper out for blood...

"Shite in mah mooth!"

From the international man of mystery that is Andreas Marfori, the genius who would later think the unthinkable and team Traci Lords, Denise Crosby and the former Mr. Olympia winner Franco Columbo in the erotic thriller Il ritmo del silenzio comes this blatant plundering (OK, I'll be kind, loving homage) to Sam Raimi's classic The Evil Dead that manages to be not only cheaper than the original but also a lot less sexy.

Which is fairly surprising seeing as the film has a horny succubus for a villain.

All the hallmarks of Raimi's movie; from a deserted house to a barrage of off-kilter 'shakycam' shots are present and correct, all that's missing is a halfway decent plot and any noticeable talent from anyone involved.

Even the usually fantastic Coralina Cataldi-Tassoni looks bored as she's made to wander around the directors garden in clothes that would make Cyndi Lauper puke.

There should really be a law against that.


The most unforgivable crime the film commits tho' is the serious lack of potential victims on screen, meaning that Marfori has to pad out the majority of the movie's scant running time with endless scenes of people wandering around aimlessly looking for something interesting to do.

Luckily the film ups it's pace (and gore content) in the last thirty minutes with a mix of exploding heads, deadly fanny based shenanigans and in one particularly memorable scene that has dear Coralina being chased by a zombie wielding a fishing rod.

Which must count for something.

Mustn't it?

Oh well suit yourself.

Friday, October 20, 2017

wong turn.

It's day 20 of the annual 31 days of horrorthon and time methinks for a wee bit of Anthony Wong style wacked out wickedness.

Plus I first reviewed this about 10 years ago and according to the blog stats only 8 people read it.


Yi boh laai beng duk (AKA Ebola Syndrome 1996)
Dir: Herman Yau.
Cast: Anthony Wong, Yeung Ming Wan, Fui-On Shing, Wong Tsui-ling, Miu-Ying Chan and Meng Lo.

In the back room of a fashionable Hong Kong restaurant, Kai (king of the bad guys and HK's answer to Eric Roberts Wong), ne'er do well employee and general sleazy man spends his off work hours shagging his boss's sexy wife over the uncooked shrimp whilst sweating a fair bit and grunting loudly.

In Cantonese of course.

It's not too surprising tho' that before long his boss has caught kinky Kai red handed - well bare arsed - with his trousers round his ankles and his cock in his missis.

In case you're wondering, her arse is in the egg noodles causing all sorts of health and safety problems.

Gordon Ramsay would have a field day.

And probably a quick reach-around.

Like any normal jealous hubbie in the same situation, big boss man administers a severe beating upon the Kai whilst angrily shouting at his unfaithful spouse.

Again in Cantonese.

However, after about the fifth kick to the nads and general pointy fingeredness, Kai goes completely mental killing his boss and then his bosses wife in a pot noodle of blood and sweat, leaving only their young (Cantonese speaking obviously) daughter alive.

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Wife Swap with Rose West went horribly wrong....

Coming to his senses (as opposed to over the corpses which we were expecting) Kai decides the best course of action would be to quickly leg it out of Hong Kong and try to start a new, quieter and dead body free life somewhere else.

Grabbing his passport and kiss me quick hat he reckons the best place to lay low would be sunny South Africa.

"Call that a pizza? It's more like a pizzashite! Disgusting....I'm closing you down....Chef! etc."

Thru' the power of wobbly dissolves we jump forward ten years to find that Kai has carved out (tho' not literally) a nice life for himself, working in another restaurant, the Kurried Kaffa and filling his days off by masturbating with sides of beef whilst watching his new boss Terry and his wife shagging on the tables.

Well at least he's not killed anyone else.


Wallace and Torode - they've got something to put in you.

All good things must come to an end tho' and after missing out on a place in the Master Chef finals and the failure of his apartheid themed Nelson Mandelicatessen, the pair desperately search for a way to keep the business from going bankrupt.

Enter (but obviously not roughly from behind) local Farmer Barney Moe who, it turns out is making a roaring trade selling cheap pig meat out the back of a van in the nearby village of Spent.

Overjoyed by the prospect of saving some cash Kai and Terry decide to hit the road and head into the great outdoors for a nice picnic and the chance to buy some inexpensive meat product for use in the restaurant's best selling hamburgers safe in the knowledge that no-one will be able to tell the difference.

Unfortunately on arrival they discover that the entire village is suffering from the infamous Ebola virus.

How's yer luck?

Grabbing their hankies and quickly covering their mouths our intrepid duo complete the purchase without incident (or anal bleeding) and beat a hasty retreat back to the car.

Surprisingly given the circumstances, everything is going swimmingly until that is they happen upon a woman lying prone in the grass and having a seizure.

Either that or she's a Gregory's Girl fan.

Kai, hypnotized by the unfortunate woman's (admittedly bouncy) breasts stands and stares for what seems like an eternity before snapping back to reality and doing what any red blooded sexual deviant would do in that situation, namely running over to give them a bloody good squeeze with his big meaty sausage fingers before unleashing his throbbing member and sticking it in her.

The romantic devil.

And before you can say 'Jingle jangle jewelery!" Kai is pulling a truly terrifying cum face whilst the woman spews up a mixture of blood and warm milk before letting out a massive fart and dying.

"Oooh Vic...I've fallen".

As you can probably guess, the conversation on the way home is a wee bit stilted and when finally arriving back at the restaurant both Kai and Terry decide to never mention the incident again.

A kind of 'what stains in Vegas stays in Vegas' deal.

Which would probably be OK if only poor old Kai hadn't developed a fever (and an embarrassing itch) within hours of his return.

Terry persuades him to visit his local GP who immediately recognizes that Kai is showing the symptoms of Ebola.

Which isn't that much of a surprise if I'm honest.

Luckily Kai's doctor is up to date with the latest research and prescribes plenty of bed rest and weak lemon drinks for our unlucky pal.

Oh yes and absolutely no raping.

Of people or meat products for at least a fortnight.

Bizarrely enough tho' this course of action actually works and within days his fever (tho' not the itch) has all but gone and Kai begins to feel better than he has for years.

And how does our horny hero decide to celebrate his new found lease of life?

Why by raping and murdering Terry's wife of course.

But not before bludgeoning Terry to death with a leg of lamb.

And can you guess how Kai decides to dispose of the bodies?

Yup in a masterstroke of unhinged genius our mentalist mate begins to sell a new dish, African Buns, thru' the restaurant.

And (as if you hadn't guessed) African Buns are (albeit very tasty) hamburgers made out of the by now Ebola infected folk that Kai has killed.

Hmmm.....I reckon this could cause a few problems if not a spike in toilet roll sales.

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Translation: "Shite in mah mooth!"

Indeed, it's not long before a large proportion of the populace of Johannesburg are writhing about on the floor foaming at the mouth and pissing blood and it's all thanks to Kai and his tainted meat.

Understandably worried about how this could affect his business and career opportunities Kai is left with no choice but to sell up the restaurant and head back to Hong Kong on the next available flight in the hope of at least getting a part-time job in McDonalds.

You think that wee boy looks happy now? Well just wait till the fucking starts.

As luck - and totally non realistic storytelling would have it -  he boards the plane to HK with absolutely no problems, enjoying a slap up meal and three whole bags of peanuts on his way back.

He's so relieved he doesn't even attempt to fuck any of the other passengers to death during the inflight movie.

Not even the ones that look like they deserve it.

But you know his run of good luck can't last and sure enough who should he bump into as he's collecting his baggage?

Why only Maisie, the daughter of the couple he killed ten years earlier.

What are the chances of that?

Being a model citizen - and having a really good memory -  she rushes to tell the local authorities but much to her dismay they send her packing thinking she's imagined it.

As if the police would ever ignore evidence of abuse?

With no alternative but to take the law into her own (very delicate) hands Maisie decides to follow Kai, making sure to write down everything she finds out in a little pink Hello Kitty diary.

This is a good plan for a variety of reasons, firstly it means she has evidence to back up her claims and secondly but more importantly it means we are treated to loads of montage shots of Kai abusing prostitutes and wanking into peoples underwear drawers.

Which, if I'm honest is what cinema is all about.

Emma Watson was beginning to regret taking a cameo role in Brucie: The Early Years.

Discovering the whereabouts of his new apartment, Maisie decides to confront Kai in the hope that he'll give himself up but this only angers the munching mentalist who then proceeds to try and cut Maisie’s tongue out with a pair of blunt nail scissors.

Which shows he's nothing if not consistent.

It wont come as too much of a shock when I say that Maisie isn't really into this and a scuffle ensues culminating in our heroine biting Kai and running away into the night leaving him to carrying on doing his thing.

Or should that be doing things with his thing?

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"Fiona! where's mah lunch?"

And as we've gathered his thing involves a few (well a lot) more killings, loads of sexual shenanigans, a couple more murders and a little bit more shagging.

Really I don't want to spoil it for you.

Sanity soon prevails tho' and the police finally decide (after much poking and prodding) that this Kai bloke is possibly a wee bit loony and that maybe, just maybe they should really bring him in for questioning.

"I'll give you five English pounds for a shot at Nick Berry's mooth!"

On paper this looks like a good idea but in reality sending the HK equivalent of Nick Berry from Heartbeat probably wasn't the best way to go.

When the officer (well wee boy) turns up to ask him a few things (just minor stuff like "Are you an Ebola infected multiple murderer with a penchant for shagging bits of meat?") Kai loses the plot even more than normal (which is a sight to behold) and escapes into the busy city streets.

But not before taking a cute wee Chinese a girl hostage and daring the police to shoot him, risking his blood infecting everyone in the surrounding area.

Which begs the question of what they were planning to shoot him with?

A rocket launcher?

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Devo and DLT always enjoyed their
weekly game of 'What's the Time Mr. Wolf?'

With the police either too scared - or too busy - to risk anything Kai is almost home free until that is the small girl ruins everything (as girls do) by starting to cry for her mum, Kai reacts as any meat obsessed murderer would and shoots her in the face before running (like a girl himself I must admit) thru' the busy streets spitting on passers by and hollering "I have Ebola and now so do you!" 

Which is nice.

"Ladies and on stage...5ive!"

Will Kai be captured before he infects the world?

Will Maisie turn up again or has she disappeared completely from the film due to her refusing to do nudity?

And will I ever recover from seeing the great Anthony Wong slaughtering a frog in extreme close-up?

The infamous Mr. Sausage Fingers was dismayed
to discover that The Cheeky Girls would
never reveal the whereabouts of his car keys.

On paper Ebola Syndrome sounds as if it should possibly be one of the most offensive films ever conceived, from it's tragedy exploiting plot thru' to the constant on screen barrage of murder, sexual violence, swearing, more sexual violence, child murders and gore.

But bizarrely enough it isn't.

Somehow director Herman Yau has managed (by accident or design, who knows?) to give a skewered sense of quality and credibility to the whole thing, partly thanks to an amazing turn from Anthony Wong as ker-razy Kai.

The magnificent Wong, a mainstay of Hong Kong cinema for the past thirty odd years has made a career playing damaged characters in films of wildly varying quality, flitting happily from such critically acclaimed fare such as Infernal Affairs to shite like Raped by An Angel IV.

Here Wong manages to makes Kai the film's most interesting (if not most sympathetic) character, the rest of the (admittedly great) cast all just fade into the background when the great man is on screen.

So you can imagine that when he's got his cock out they've no chance.

"It's Cccccchhhhrrrriiissstttmmmaaasssss!!!"

If any criticism can be leveled at the movie it has to be the completely gratuitous (and unnecessary) scenes of animal slaughter, a throwback to the worst of the 70's Italian exploitation era and, while it may only be a few frog guttings and the beheading of a couple of mangy chickens, it's still enough to taint the viewing experience somewhat.

Perhaps if Wong had just had sex with them instead?

Well it's just a thought.

But don't let that put you off experiencing such a sleaze-tastic epic that for all it's shocks is infinitely less hard going than the earlier Wong-Yau masterclass in restaurant based bad taste, the true story inspired Baat sin fan dim ji yan yuk cha siu baau.

It's still a must see tho'.

This is why your girlfriend didn't
return your calls last Saturday.

Great as a first date film and even better on a quiet Sunday afternoon with the family, Ebola Syndrome has everything you could ever want from a film about a food fucking sexual deviant with a deadly disease and until Greg Wallace decides to do the same, it'll win out over Master Chef every time.

The celebrity editions not withstanding obviously.

people you fancy but shouldn't (part 74).

Star Trek: Discovery's Cadet Sylvia Tilly as played by Mary Wiseman.

Thursday, October 19, 2017


Woke up this morning to the news that I've got to redraw a few panels of a strip I'm working on....oh and that director Umberto Lenzi had died.

And what better way to celebrate than by dedicating todays 31 days of horror to what his possibly his greatest film.

It was then I realized that I'd lent out my copy of Gatti rossi in un labirinto di vetro so it'll have to be this instead*.

Nightmare City (AKA City of the Walking Dead, La Invasión De Los Zombies Atómicos, 1980).
Dir: Umberto Lenzi.
Cast: Hugo Stiglitz, Laura Trotter, Francisco Rabal, Mel Ferrer, some bouncy breasts and a few other body parts usually attached to people.

In a nameless city somewhere in 'Europe' (tho' from the state of the haircuts and trousers it looks like the West Midlands circa 1985) a terrible nuclear accident has sent the populace reeling into panic.

Bouffanted and bearded ace reporter Dean Miller (Stiglitz from Alcoholics Anonymous and that film where the boat capsizes and they eat the dog) is assigned to interview eminent scientist Otto Hagenbach (bless you) who just happens to be flying in from the accident site that very morning.

Lucky eh?

But when the plane arrives it contains not only the grey haired boffin but a cargo hold full of scum-faced tramps dressed in their grandad's old suits.

Sorry, I mean bloodthirsty, potato faced 'atomic zombies'.

'Atomic zombies' intent on murder!!

And a fair bit of tittie touching if the rest of the film is anything to go by.

"You chase me now!"

Whilst all this scary shite is going down (as you kids say) Mrs. Miller (Trotter from Only Fools and Horses) is busy making her rounds at the local hospital.

Don't worry, she works there. It's not like she's skulking about chasing ambulances.

But things are a mite strange there too as she realizes when visiting a young patient named Phil.

When our bubble haired heroine, trying to pass the time, innocently asks him "Well, how are you feeling today?"

His frankly worrying reply is "I feel like somebody who's waiting for the hatchet guy to chop off his head, doctor."

Which is nice, if delivered a little stiffly.

To make matters spookier, another patient, this time a broken legged football loving wee boy, has been having nightmares about bad men cutting his leg off.

Could this be related?

Mel (not Kim).

Well there's no time to worry about such trivialities as meanwhile at a top secret army base, military top brass Major Holmes (Rabal, all rugged with a silver quiff and a sexy sculptress girlfriend young enough to be his granddaughters fetus) and General Murchinson (Mel "I was married to Audrey Hepburn and the alimony bill is forcing me to appear in utter shite for the remainder of my career" Ferrer) are discussing the breaking emergency.

Please join us for a fantastic piece of choice dialogue as the body of one of the attackers is being examined :

Murchison (obviously reading from cue cards): Your autopsy categorically excludes an extraterrestrial being. It's molecular structure clearly establishes him as a member of the human race. A paradox when you consider what they've been doing....

Donohue (a 'scientist'): The examination of the various tissue samples that we have taken from the body reveal a high level of radioactivity, far superior to the level normally tolerated by the human organism. In addition we have found more or less recent hyper-tissue regeneration.

Murchison (bored now): Can you make that a little simpler Colonel? Some of your colleagues may not have the same technical or theoretical background...

(what? a technical background in talking bollocks? does that exist?)

Donohue (he's making it up now): In other words this individual and others like him have been subjected to strong doses of atomic radiation which increase their physical capacities beyond the norm.

Holmes (in a way only a man of a certain age can): How far beyond the norm?

Donohue (he's on a roll!): It's impossible to say. But it is a fact that these cells, subjected to almost every treatment we know, have proven to be almost indestructible.

Holmes: In short it's a kind of superman…?

Donohue (very excitedly): Much more than that… the victims of these creatures are contaminated even if they only suffer minor injuries.....

Murchison (losing the will to live): Then they can reproduce themselves… say indefinitely?

Donohue (jumping up and down waving his hands like a loon): That more or less… is correct!

I'm not saying the dialogue is bad but my computer kept crashing in an attempt to stop me typing it.

Look at it....really LOOK AT IT, it's so banal that if you concentrate hard enough the words actually appear to melt into mush before seeping into your eyes and attempting to rot your brain.

And the whole fucking film is written in this 'style'.

It's like the celluloid equivalent of a prison buggery.

Minus the biting obviously.

People died for this.


Anyway, still with us?

Good because after this fantastically written exchange Murchison elects to put plan 'H' into effect (no idea what's wrong with A thru' G), giving his men the unforgettable order to "Aim for the brain".

The race is now on to save humanity.

And enough cash to get Stiglitz some cheap wine after shooting finishes.

Mr. Potato Head need love!

Can Dean persuade the station heads (and their bodies too) to cancel the pop hits and bouncy tits TV show 'Dance Party' and broadcast his warning to the city and still have time to rescue his wife?

Will Sheila the sculptor survive in the coal bunker?

Will Mrs. Miller (not the cult recording star, the doctor remember?) ever stop waxing philosophically about the situation or will Dean just slap her (and slap her and slap her) until she starts crying in the horrific realization that she's surround by a cast and crew of highly disturbed sociopaths and alcoholics whose only concerns are keeping their star sober and filling the screen with as many inopportune breast shots as possible?

But most importantly will the once great Mel Ferrer have to spend his twilight years in the hell that is the Italian 'B' movie industry?

"Touch my hairy face!"

Director Umberto Lenzi's warning against the dangers of science gone mad was (according to the great man himself) based on 'true events'.

That's right! Lenzi reckons this really happened and is actually proud of this film, hailing it his 'masterpiece' comparing it's plot to that of Jonathan Demme's Philadelphia for it's portrayal of the effects disease has on the populace.

The joke was on us, we thought we were watching a cheap and cheerful zombie movie, when Lenzi has actually produced an amazingly existential docudrama that could change lives and save our planet.

His off screen battles to complete his vision are well documented, from producer Luis Mendez refusing to let him cast a 'name' actor in the lead role of Dean Miller (Lenzi favoured either Franco Nero or Fabio Testi whereas Mendez insisted on a Mexican lead to appeal to the movies co-funders who eventually cast alleged lush and professional hairy woodsman Stiglitz) to what appears to be an imaginary 'female executive' forcing him to tone down the films many gore scenes.

"Oi Umberto! NO!"

Unfortunately (for Lenzi), by his usual cinematic standards the finished film is in fact utter shite.

But for us it's one of the greatest pieces of art ever produced.

Just ask Robert Rodriguez, he allegedly based his Planet Terror on this movie and we know how great that is.

From the moment the film begins echoes of Waiting for Godot reverberate around the whole production as the imagination of the director crashes headlong into the crushing reality of the films budget with Hagenbach's arrival  celebrated by covering the screen with a crimson hue only a cheap blood substitute can supply and characters just hang around, unable to do anything but await their final indignant ends.

The rampaging 'atomic zombies' are a triumph of crap over cash, looking for all the world as if their heads have been covered in PVA glue and then dipped in a bowl of potato peelings mixed with a liberal amount of dried shite and burrowing below the surface like some sleeping beast Lenzi's latent misogynism regularly bursts forth onto the screen as female character after female character are forced to trip over, whimper and lose their tops before being killed in a variety of increasingly sexualized scenes.

Fair play to the writers tho' who even when faced with the plot screaming to a halt halfway thru' bravely carry on by having Stiglitz and Trotter run aimlessly around the countryside with no other purpose than to occasionally bump into a group of infected killers then run away again.

But not before Trotter has been given (another) bloody good slap obviously.

It's like a horror version of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead but with more arse shots.

Trotter (a doctor don't forget) persuades the hairy one that a church is the best place to hide because the virus/plague/whatever won't enter the house of God.....Much to her (but not the audiences) surprise the church is full of spud-faced loons out for blood.


Mulder and Scully: the pikey years.

Exciting subplots include General Merchinson trying to get his daughter to the (relative) safety of the base whilst she'd rather go camping with her fella and the silver fox that is Major Holmes attempting to save his (almost pre-teen) girlfriend.

If I'm honest then the sight of the mahogany tanned and leathery faced Francisco Rabal running his tongue over the chest of someone young enough to be his (grand) daughter is probably the most unsettling and nightmarish thing in the whole movie meaning this image (and the sight of him in a scoop-necked too tight green 'army' t-shirt proudly displaying his curvy man-breasts) will stay with you long after the film has ended.

A leathery man yesterday.

And oh boy what an ending.

After everyone else seems to have died, the Millers escaped to a seemingly deserted fairground.

Suddenly they are surrounded by the infected....Dean and Anna head for safety atop a rollercoaster (?) the bad men in hot pursuit.

A helicopter appears on the horizon lowering a ladder the pair climb to safety, only for Mrs. Miller to lose her grip (on the ladder, not reality) and plummet to her death in a kind of floppy way only a shoddily made dummy can.

Dean screams and suddenly.....

Like I'd spoil it for you.

You'll just haveta go out and buy it.

And I know you want to even if you don't you filthy whores.

*As an aside a shorter (and considerably less childish) version of this review will be appearing in the official Weekend of The Dead convention programme this year alongside a few more quality zombie classics featured in The Undeck of which copies are still available here.

If you're attending feel free to say "Hi!" or even buy me a pint - I'm not too proud to say no.

Wednesday, October 18, 2017

rat scabies.

31 days of 'the 'orrah' day 18 and it's Bruno Mattei time!

You lucky people!

Rats: Notte Di Terrore (AKA Blood Kill, Les Rats de Manhattan, Rats: Night of Terror 1984)
Director: Bruno Mattei
Starring: Richard Raymond, Alex McBride, Richard Cross,
Moune Duvivier, Henry Luciani, Cristoph Bretner, Ann-Gisel Glass and the fantastic Geretta Geretta.

It is the year is 225 A.B. (the A.B. stands for  either after the bomb or absolute bollocks, take yer pick.) and the world as we know it has gone forever.

Nuclear war has indeed decimated our beloved planet Earth.

Well, a bit of it just outside Rome.

No real loss then.

Luckily humanity survived by retreating underground to wait out the ecological crisis that undoubtedly followed. 

Tho' we wont get to see that because it'd be way too expensive.

Unfortunately an argument over whose turn it was to wash up causes a major split amongst the survivors, forcing a small band to return to the planet's surface to live as 'scavengers', roaming the barren wasteland like a community centre panto version of Mad Max, searching for food, fuel, Fairy liquid  (those dishes wont do themselves) and - from the look of them - an 80's Top Shop's to stock up on legwarmers, day-glo eyeshadow and zippered, rising sun t-shirts.

The others must have just stayed inside watching reruns of Jeremy Kyle or something. 

Kurt: queer as folk.

One particular group of these junior road warriors led by the bouffanted, bleached and bearded Kurt (stuntman turned actor Raymond looking like an aborted Gibb brother) stumble across an abandoned town (although how you can stumble across a town escapes me) and, after a quick nosy about the immediate area - being careful not to stray too far off the backlot - immediately enter what looks like a cheap Eurohostel to look for food and water.

What they find inside is beyond their wildest dream; boxes of fresh food, some porn, boxes of tissues, a big water purifier in the basement and a hydroponic nursery.

Shelter, food, fresh water  and top shelf wanking material - everything they need to survive.

Cue a few scenes of slightly uncomfortable food-porn that includes a scruffy middle aged beardie man pouring sugar into his mouth and eyes exclaiming "Sugar!" and Kurt munching a bag of flour shouting "Yum! flour!" before emptying the rest of the bag over the exquisite Chocolate (horror goddess and all round superstar Geretta Geretta).

A scene worth rewatching just to admire possibly the worlds greatest genre actress (and part-time Amazon) in action.

Jenny Spoon, the token skinny blonde of the group, bored with watching her pals play hide the sausage (literally) notices that a freshly laundered bed in the corner of the hi-tech dining room is mysteriously moving and heads over to investigate.

Tho' I'd be more concerned with why someone would pop a bed in their dining room if I'm honest.

Slowly easing her way toward the bed with her dirty, shaking skeletal fingers stretched out like someone's Nan attempting a birthday hand job, she's surprised to find that beneath the clean, and soft Postman Pat blankets lies a putrefying corpse.

With dozens of rats gnawing at the bones!

Billie Piper, up the casino, 1998...yesch!

Now, just put yourself in their shoes for a second...what do you think is the most terrifying thing about this scenario? 

The half chewed body in the bed or the fact that it appears that the rats must of attacked this man as he slept, then pulled the covers up and made the bed in an attempt to play an hilarious Jeremy Beadle style prank on the next people to turn up?

Ignoring all of this tho' and deciding just to chalk it up to experience, our motley crew decide to explore the buildings computer room to see if the internet is still working giving them a chance to download some cheerleader porn before bed.

It's great to know that even after a nuclear holocaust that people still get their priorities right.

Anyway, before settling down for a good nights kip (not a night of terror- with rats - we hope)  the criminally camp technology egghead Vic Video (Il capo dei capi's Gianni Franco AKA Richard Cross) lives up to his moniker by finding the buildings light switches.

After first accidentally starting an 'eliminate intruders' program obviously.

And with that the group settle down to bed.

As the air is filled with the dulcet sounds of snores and farts, ball headed bad boy Barry Lucifer (
star of the hit teevee series Cas de divorce's Bretner) and his scarily googly eyed girlfriend Lilith (Duvivier), overcome with passion start having 'the sex' in a cosy double sleeping bag in the corner.

And they say romance is dead.

Luckily for all the folk trying to get a good nights kip (and for us if I'm honest) the zip in the bag sticks before Lucifer (as he so romantically puts it) can "blast off baby!" leaving the horny devil to stomp off to the bar to drown his sorrows.

And no doubt choke his chicken. 

By that I mean masturbate furiously not actually kill a bird I mean it's not Ruggero Deodato directing.

"Is it in yet?"

Coming across (not literally mind) Video, Jeff and Spoon getting slowly drunk on Meths in the corner, Lucifer opens his heart to his pals who promptly take the absolute piss out of him for getting stuck in a bag (the sleeping variety not Lilith) causing him to stomp off leaving his buddies crying with tears of laughter and shame and his lanky lady alone in the aforementioned broken zipped bag.
A bag that she can't get out of....remember this, it may be important later.

Stumbling about with a bottle of cheap booze and a Pot Noodle shouting "You're my best mate" at various tables, Lucifer fails to notice the army of red eyed rats slowly approaching him whilst  Lilith, drifting into sleep in another room is oblivious to the single rat (obviously the only one not terrified by her teeth) slowly gnawing its way into her sleeping bag.
A sleeping bag that will soon become her tomb.

Of death.

Funnel or tunnel?

Lucifer meanwhile is still boozing away and shouting at random objects when he comically falls down an open manhole whilst trying to avoid a banana skin and as he tries in vain to hoist himself up is suddenly jumped on by hundreds of hungry rats intent on stealing his wallet.

Kurt and company startled awake by cries of "Aaarrrghhh! rats!" are even more surprised to find Lilith lying stiff as a board in her sleeping bag.

Surmising that Lucifer must have strangled her at the height of passion our merry mentalists decide to find him and hopefully the truth regarding lanky Lil's death.

But as they're about to leave, Lilith's body begins to convulse and shake (pretty much like my Auntie when she had a stroke, just not as arousing) as a rat suddenly emerges from her mouth!

"Maybe it wasn't Lucifer after all" Chocolate guesses.

No shit.

Rat in mah mooth!

Finding all this rodent based carnage a bit much to deal with this early in the morning, the gang decide to head for the bikes and get the hell out of Dodge (as they say) only to find that the rats have scoffed all the tires.

This leaves Kurt in a difficult position.

Do they:

A. Leave/carry the bikes and run away from town and from the killer rats?

B. Go back into the (killer rat infested) building, board themselves in (with the rats) and wait till morning to leave (when the rats are asleep obviously)?

Yup they decide to leg it out of town.

No not really, they actually go back inside and hurriedly board up every window.

Save for the one the rats will no doubt attack thru' later of course. 

One by one the gang are outsmarted by the rats, the older Chuck Norris/George Eastman alike is attacked in the hydroponics (painful), one gets a few wee bites and has a flamethrower taken to him (which is a bit extreme really) and blonde bombshell and former Italian Playboy  Playmate of the month (September 1978) Cindy Leadbetter gets nibbled on whilst standing at that unsealed window (doh) and goes a wee bit potty.

Diane: Nice flat stomach, face of f*ckness.

As if the night (of terror) couldn't get any worse, sweaty pudding headed chubster Duke (Erotic Games star Luciani) has decided that he wants to take control of what's left of the gang, pushing his chest out and scowling "I could do that better! You Smell!" etc. in Kurt's general direction at the most inopportune of moments. 


This testosterone fueled angriness and general unpleasant behavior culminates in him kidnapping permanently slack jawed Myrna (Ann-Gisel Glass, now a major French TV star who surprisingly doesn't actually list this movie on her agents website and denies all knowledge of it if you send her the DVD to get signed) before threating to steal the groups one remaining vehicle. 

It wont come as too much of a surprise to anyone watching that the car in question is full of rats so Duke calmly decides to clear them out by dropping a hand grenade on them.

Fair enough it kills all the rats but unfortunately also kills himself and Myrna instantly. 

If not sooner,  proving his leadership skills weren't up to much after all.

Whilst all this drama is going down, Diane has decided to wander off in a sulk after catching sight of the woeful make up job she has and after screaming "I wont let you eat me!" (which raised a snigger here at least) slashes her wrists.

She's not really thought this thru' tho' as no doubt the rats will probably still gobble her up anyway, it's not like they're fussy eaters.

It's about now that Kurt's manly visage begins to slip as he disintegrates into a blubbing mess, shooting randomly at Diane's body ("She was covered in those beasts!") before sobbing like a big girl. 

Now it's down to Chocolate, a bald man whose name escapes me and Video to save the day.

Frankly I reckon they're screwed.

"I can see your house from here Peter!"

Unluckily for Kurt (but lucky for the poor sods having to carry him) he gets squashed by a large cardboard door within a few minutes of his great emoting scene.

If that wasn't embarrassing enough tho' it's only the wee baldy man who can be bothered to even try and rescue him, meaning the pair get eaten by rats whilst lying in a sweaty, shit covered mess.

Faced with so much carnage, Chocolate (still looking gorgeous by the way) and the bubble permed Video decide the best course of action is to run away screaming before hiding inside a few handy boxes.

But these rats are smart enough not to be confused by such a cunning disguise and licking their ickle thin lips edge closer and closer to our desperate duo.

Chocolate has heard rumours that they'll eat her whole but Video is pretty sure that they'll spit that bit out.

Suddenly as if by magic a group of strange bio-suited figures appear from the sewers and by using what appears to be Baby Bio sprays manage to kill the all rats.


But who are these mysterious strangers? 

Are they friend or foe? 

Are they even human?

Or could they possibly be giant rat people in yellow jumpsuits?

I'll let you guess, all I'm saying is that it's great that Kevin the Gerbil's career continued after ITV canceled Rat on The Road.

 Spoiler warning: this picture may
give clues to the films shock ending.

It takes a special kind of person to even consider mixing such diverse influences as Mad Max, The Muppet Movie and Willard, let alone to actually go ahead and make such an entertaining movie out of them.
And for this reason we must praise the late lamented genius that was Bruno Mattei. 
I mean what can you possibly say about such a heady brew of action, gore, leather trousers, beards and nudity seamlessly mixed with stunning effects (the rat army is a hand drawn conveyor belt with dozens of dogs squeaky mouse toys glued to it) helped along by  top notch dialogue and topped off with a frankly fantastically farty Eurohorror synth score?
Plus it features the magnificent Geretta Geretta (in case you'd forgotten) decked out in cool combat gear and cradling a huge gun.
C'mon, what's not to love?
They should teach Mattei in film school.
But then they'd have to point out that his Jaws 'homage' Cruel Jaws was shite tho'.

Swings and roundabouts really.