Saturday, August 30, 2008



Friday, August 8, 2008

daily male.

If you're suffering from a touch of the blues why not head on over to the webs(h)ite of the permanently morally outraged film critic for that bastion of liberal views (for anyone reading outside the UK that was ironic) the Daily Mail, Christopher Tookey.

Tookey: multi-chinned
moralistic moaner.

It’s called Tookey’s Film Guide (original I know) and it's fantastic search engine enables you to have hours of fun checking thru' his reviews for films that he reckons will corrupt us all and which the Guardian reading liberals of the BBFC should be put up against a wall and shot for allowing thru' the countries moral decency net.

Pearls of wisdom from Mr. Tookey include…

On David Cronenberg’s Crash:

Though I am not normally in favour of banning movies, I couldn’t see how the British Board of Film Classification could - with even an appearance of consistency - award Crash an 18 certificate.

Rosanna Arquette's arse and a pair ofcalipers?
What's not to love?

On Eli Roth’s Hostel:

Many people seem baffled as to why we are raising a generation of desensitized yobs, who see nothing wrong with torture and mutilation, and indeed use these things to foster a bizarre, and evil, sense of community. Barely a week goes by without some new, real-life horror – most recently, the revolting, mindless attack by six youths who abducted, raped and stabbed to death Maryann Leneghan.

Allison Pearson posed one question in the Mail on Wednesday Who are these people? But it seems to me that an even more important question is Why do these people think they can act this way?”

This film is not worthy of an 18 certificate, for it is not suitable for audiences of 48 and over, let alone those aged 18, but it will be seen by millions of people – including children on whom it will make an indelible impression.

Hostel: yes we know it's shite,
but for completely different reasons.

I asked at the start why violent yobs think they can act this way. It is also relevant to inquire who is encouraging their culture of sadism.

Well, let me name names. One is this film’s writer-director, Eli Roth. Another is Takeshi Miike, who contributes a cameo performance to Hostel. A third is Roth’s mentor, Quentin Tarantino, who also appears briefly in the film, and enabled it to be made and released by being its Executive Producer.

Serious questions should be asked of Mr Roth, but I would like to know what Sony Pictures are doing releasing such a picture. Is making money their only motivation? Have they no shame? No sense of social responsibility? No values?

I would also like to know who, apart from our pusillanimous and negligent censors, thinks this kind of evil, pernicious trash truly warrants an 18 certificate.


Tuesday, August 5, 2008

how to look a complete spocka (part one).

The greatest piece of Star Trek merchandise ever?


adventures in babysitting...

...with the Time Trapper.


mattel guru.

Killer Barbys (AKA Vampire Killer Barbys, 1996).
Dir: Jesus Franco.
Cast: Silvia Superstar, Enrique Sarasola, Aldo Sanbrell, Bela B. Felsenheimer, Billy King, Mariangela Giordano, Carlos Subterfuge, Pepa López, Alberto Martínez and Charlie S. Chaplin.


Somewhere around a (cheap) holiday resort in Europe a mysterious (and scared) young man is involved in what looks like a sinister (and oh so slighty homo-erotic) game of hide and seek with the sexily stylish Mr. Arkan (Sanbrell) and his stoopy squire, Baltasar (Segura).

The game comes to an abrupt end tho' when Arkan finally catches up with the young fella and swiftly cuts his throat before heading home to his dilapidated castle to chat excitedly with a woman's corspe.

John Leslie gets a taste of his own medicine.

Meanwhile across town at the local Haven holiday park, top post punk pop puppets the Killer Barbys are wowing the (bingo) crowd with a rousing rendition of their hit waxing 'Killer Love' before getting ripped off by the evil gig promoter and, as scary punks are known to do, going all tutty and huffy as they sulk off to their tour bus.

Realising that their next concert is at the fantastic Butlins in Skegness the band put the peddle to the metal and (whilst singing along to their own songs) begin the 500 mile drive (in what seems to be real time), taking in every badly lit road sign and tree along the way.

Luckily for us, the arse numbing monotony is broken when the bus is run off the motorway whilst attempting to dodge a (parked) steam roller(?) left in the middle of the road causing the band to end up stuck in a muddy ditch that just happens to be right next to Arkan's castle.

How's that for luck?

"Hallo Minehead!"

Appearing from behind a tree he informs our merry band that it wont be possible to get the AA (or anyone with a tow truck, not even Mater from the Pixar classic Cars) out till the next morning, but kindly offers the Killer Barbys a bed for the night, with or without the added company of his best buddy the Countess von Fledermaus (Giordano, Peter Bark's mum from the classic Burial Ground).

Lead singer and busty blonde sex poppet Flavia (Superstar AKA Silvia Pintos), bassist (and ex plumber) Mario (Chaplin) plus her boyfriend (and top rock guitarist) Rafa (Subterfuge) take a minute to think Arkan's offer over before deciding that being stuck in a spooky old castle with a fey German and his practically mummified, pneumatically breasted friend is preferable to sitting cramped in the corner of a leaky van whilst the bands two other members, Billy and Sharon continue their world record breaking shagathon on a pile of sleeping bags in the back.

You would, but Richard Jobson's brother
on the left would insist on watching...

On arrival at the castle Flavia is shocked to discover that the Countess is really the former silent movie star Olga Luchan, who gave up her promising career to wed the last of the von Fledermaus clan way back in the 1920's.

You see it appears that her hubbie was well versed in the black arts who gave his wife the secret of eternal life....drinking the blood of the young enables you to cheat death!

As with all these things there's a wee drawback in that if you don't keep up your blood intake you'll begin to to decompose.

Which is a bit of a bummer really.

The Countess has managed to keep the grim reaper at bay all these years by employing Arkan, his sidekick Baltasar (remember him?) and their scary midget pals (the short López and very short Martínez) to entice young folk into the castle by planting heavy farm machinery on the road and it looks like the Killer Barbys are next on the list.

No real loss to popular music (or mullets) as we know it then.

Of course the utterly disposable Billy and Sharon are the first to die in order to feed the Countesses blood lust and yes, they're still shagging when it happens, giving Olga the excuse to come over all saucy (well if you think your Grannie in sexy black undies is a turn on) and attempt to seduce Rafa.

Deciding the best way to win him back is to have an almighty strop, Flavia skulks off into her bedroom to bitch with the by now bored Mario until that is, she has a scary dream about her beau shagging an old woman and dying.

Flavia has a strange feeling that things are amiss in castle von Fledermaus and reckons the Killer Barbys are the band to solve the mystery....

Armed only with her ample charms, a plumber and the keys to the steamroller our heroine decides it's time to rock.....

Cheese and onion flavia.

If there’s one thing you can rely on in life it's Jess Franco’s amazing ability to cobble together such a shambolic mix of half arsed ideas and (alleged) sexy imagery (no doubt over a single weekend) and still have the majority of punters mistake it for artistic genius.

The film has a sloppy and rushed air about it that perminates thru' every socket hole and frame, from the choppy lazy editing to the off-synch dubbing and endless arse numbingly bad shots of corridors and fog that appear to have been dropped into the film at random intervals for no other reason than to beef up the running time.


Plus points (yup there are a few) include the 65 year old Mariangela Giordano pretending to be 26 whilst seducing someone young enough to be her grandson and the (possibly) pre-op transexual charm of Silvia Superstar.

She walks like a man, she talks like a man but admit would.

But only if Giordano was busy of course.

If you're a regular reader of this blog you probably know all this already and scarily still love good old Franco (mostly for those very same reasons) no matter what shite he pumps out pretending it's high culture.

And long may he continue to do so.

Friday, August 1, 2008

dance macabre.

Murder Rock: Death Dancing (AKA Giallo a disco, Murder Rock - Dancing Death, Slashdance, 1984).
Dir: Lucio Fulci.
Cast: Olga Karlatos, Berna Maria do Carmo, Cosimo Cinieri, Claudio Cassinelli, Ray Lovelock, Geretta Giancarlo, Al Cliver, Silvia Collatina, Giovanni de Nava, aria Vittoria Tolazzi, Carla Buzzanca, Angela Lemerman, Christian Borromeo and Belinda Busato.


The co-ed dance students at the famous Arts for Living Center in New York City are being worked into a disco frenzy every hour of the day as graduation fast approaches. Not only that but it seems that a prestigious New York stage show is about to open and the producers want the three best female dancers from the class for the lead roles.

Their fearsome tutor Candice Norman (Zombie Flesh Eaters harsh hottie Karlatos) had her own dancing career tragically cut short by a hit and run accident years ago so knows how hard she must push her students if they're to succeed (hopefully she wont be pushing them under any motorbikes tho') even if it means shattered dreams for all except the chosen few.

Mark Hamill impressed the convention
crowd by farting a fully grown woman
out of his peachy arse.

After a particularly sweaty (and incredibly 80's) dance routine, saucy, local nosed student Joan (the hamster like do Carmo, providing I've got the right actress it's all a bit of a haze) and her boyfriend (Mark Hamill alike Borromeo from Tenebrae) meet up in the ladies locker room for some 'extra practice'.

After some hot n' heavy 'making out' (as the kids call it) and being aware that the automated security system is about to lock the school, he heads off to wash his bits in preparation for some lovin' whilst she has a shower to 'cool down'.

"We'll have no trouble here!"

Unfortunately for her (but bloody lucky for us after the flurry of crotch obsessed musical numbers) there's a black clad killer on the loose who sneaks into the shower cubicle, chloroforms the nubile dancer and stabs her in the heart with an ornate hat pin.

Claire Goose's Red Nose Day stunt was
deemed a little extreme for family viewing.

Not too surprisingly the dance class is shocked to say the least as accusations begin to fly and gossip starts to spread like warm runny butter, surely it wasn't one of the other students that committed this foul (if not oh so slightly erotically charged) murder to better their chances of an audition?

Hard nosed, brick chinned chubster Lieutenant Borges (Cinieri, from The New York Ripper) appears to have no idea, but you can be pretty sure he's going to use it as an excuse to slap the kids around a bit, stuff his face with nuts and swear a lot till he finally solves the case.

Olga was oblivious to the fact that Little Cook
was attempting to whisper sweet
nothings into her ear.

Just when you think the case couldn't possibly get any stranger, Candice starts dreaming about a hunky blond guy chasing her with a hat pin.

No, really.

As the plot gets stranger more and more girls are winding up dead and (as well as a wee bird in a cage) each in the order of merit from the class.

Out driving one day with her school girl chasing bespectacled college Dick Gibson (Mountain of The Cannibal God's Cassinelli - seriously this movie is a veritable who's who of Euro Horror) she comes across a billboard ad for hemorrhoid cream that features the same mysterious man!

Turns out her dream guy is one George Webb (Living Dead At The Manchester Morgue's Lovelock), an alcohol actor cum model with a think for pre-teen girls and a dark secret.

Obviously Candice wastes no time jumping into bed with him whilst all around her chaos reigns supreme and everyone and their dog becomes a suspect or at the very least has a bizarre secret to hide.

For starters it turns out that Dick had been trying to bed the dead girls, one of the male students is a nutter who actually confesses to the crimes (he did it because he hates Spics apparently), George once had an affair with a 15 year old who mysteriously died and Fame-like fellow dance tutor Margie (Giancarlo from Demoni) hates Candice so much that she goes as far as dressing up as the Killer, chloroforming her and attempting to stick her with a pin.


"Where's mah washboard?"

As even more girls turn up on the slab and with fewer and fewer suspects left standing, will Lieutenant Borges be able to pin the crime on the killer before it's too late?

Tom Jones farted....and it smells of leek.

It was the early 80's and the Giallo genre was fading out of fashion in Italy, replaced by futuristic action flicks, slasher movies and an invasion of big budget American fare such as Flashdance and the like.

Silk stockings and blood red shoes were out and leather shoulder pads, crotch cutting leotards and amusing hairstyles were most definitely in.

It would take a man of unhinged genius to try and revive Giallo's fortunes and save this fantastic sub genre; and Lucio Fulci happily took the challenge.

The result was Murder Rock, a schizophrenic mish mash of murder, mystery, body popping and cheesy disco hits straight out of Fame.

From the opening scenes of a demanding black female instructor putting her students thru' their paces to close ups of the shaggy haired keyboard jiving student miming to a poptastic Kieth Emerson score you know you're in for something special as Fulci treats us to consistent (and totally unnecessary) close-ups of spandex clad bouncy arses, sweaty heaving breasts and a plethora of thrusting hips.

One sequence is actually taken shot for shot from the aforementioned Flashdance, when one of the students (female thankfully) auditions for a nightclub boss.

Chair dancing and drenched in water with her backside fighting to escape the tiniest thong in living memory, Fulci's only addition to the scene is a frightening number of crash zooms into the dancers crotch at every opportunity.

"Run for your's John Leslie!"

As for the cast well, as mentioned earlier it's a fanboy's dream come true, featuring as it does nearly ever major player from the heyday of Italian horror.

As well as those already mentioned like Olga (Zombie Flesh Eaters and later Prince's mum in Purple Rain) Karlatos, Cosimo (Manhattan Baby) Cinieri, the late great Claudio (Island of The Fishmen) Cassinelli, Geretta (Rats) Giancarlo, Al Cliver (and beard) in an uncredited cameo and Ray Lovelock but there are also top turns from such B movie stalwarts as Giovanni (The Beyond) de Nava and the scarily red headed child/woman Silvia (House By The Cemetery) Collatina.

With fantastic cinematography from the god like Giuseppe Pinori, some abysmal dubbing, top gore effects and more sweaty and naked ladies than you can stick a hat pin in, Murder Rock is well worth the pound it'll cost you at Cash Converters so jump in and boogie on down to one of Fulci’s greatest works.