dead beat dance.

Just in time for Halloween, the official Killerwatt horror mix (part one) for your downloading pleasure.

Enjoy!

wrong, wrong, wrong.

Well, I'm scared.

leathery balls.

Look, I'm sorry...it was late and I had nothing else to watch.....plus I was hypnotised by the girl on the lefts huge chin.

Just count yourself lucky that I watched it for you.

Sing gum zhook kao (AKA Sexy Soccer. 2004)
Dir: Sik Hok Min (Yup, that's right - THE Sik Hok Min)
Star: Au Yeung, Carmen Yeung, Tong Tong and lots of other people but I've discovered that no-one actually reads the cast list bit, they go straight to the movie poster that's usually right below.

See? there it is!

Professional sleazy guy Rolando (Yeung, probably) is having a wee bit of bad luck culminating with a run in with the local loan shark.

You see he'd made a huge bet on his fave team winning the football championship cup (or something....as you can probably tell, I'm not really the sporty type) but guess what?

Yup, they lost.

Feeling generous the loan shark decides against cutting his throat and instead offers him one last chance to come up with the cash.

With no idea as to what he could do to raise the money Rolando decides to go watch a footie match to get a wee bit of inspiration. It's there that whilst enjoying the game his eyes are draw to a brash n' busty jogger bouncing by him at half time.

Rolando sees this as a message from God telling him to form an all female footie team (named Friendly Balls) to compete against the all male squads, with the ladies uses their 'sexy bodies' to distract the testosterone fueled male players.

How this would work is never fully explained (much the same way as the loan shark storyline never re-appears) but, we've been promised scantily clad and sexy girls playing football so let's stick with it and see if it delivers.

Anyway back to the synopsis (so I can eradicate any memory of this film from my head), everything starts swimmingly with much training footage of girls jogging in tiny shorts and shots of sweaty ladies jumping on the spot as Rolando's plan seems to be foolproof enough for him to actually have a chance of winning whatever he's meant to win (I don't really care).

Unfortunately his arch rival Dennis gets wind of his plan and has a secret weapon of his own....

You see, he's secretly been training a team of homosexuals to play against the ladies in the final.
The rotter!

When all seems lost tho' our hero comes up with his greatest plan yet.

Remembering that 'the gays' like arse he gets all the ladies to flash their bum cheeks at them, instantly curing them of their gayness and thus enabling the girls to win.

She looks not bad from here,
but wait till the dribbling starts.

Effectively that's it as far as the movies plot goes, with half of the film being a shameful excuse to see a handful of fairly unattractive young ladies with bored looks on their faces (and one with a chin like an ironing board) prancing around in tight tops and tiny seventies style shorts wiggling and jiggling like they're have a stroke.

But not in a good way (like when Helen Robinson had hers in Neighbours).

Helen: undercover action.

The remainder of this epic consists of endless scenes of Rolando (dressed like your dad) having sex with the team ( either in reality or 'hilarious' dream sequences) in the most unerotic way since Harvey Keitel cracked one off over that car door in The Bad Lieutenant'.

True there's and almost obscene amount of nudity (plus sex scenes that border on hardcore) but it's a bit like watching a video of your parents having sex.

In your bed.

And trust me on this when I tell you that's not a nice feeling.

Harvey: Barclay's bank.

Saying that tho' at least Harvey looked like he was enjoying himself (as did my folks), Yeung on the other hand keeps pulling comedy 'cum' faces whilst making grabbing actions toward the unfortunate actresses breasts.

For Minutes at a time we're subjected to this in extreme close-up, it's almost as if he's possessed your teevee and is desperately trying to escape to do bad things to you.

And your dog.

"So which one of you sexy ladies is
up for a wee bit o' mooth shite-in?"

I will admit that the film does have a few stand out moments, mainly showcasing the total ineptitude of those involved, including a fantastic bit in which one of the team actually stops speaking to look off-camera at the director for reassurance before continuing the scene.

Buy this film now and see how many you can spot.

It'd be much easier than trying to spot any of the films promised 'sexy' moments.

Somewhere to park your bike at least.

Market to us foreign devils as a kinky version of the classic Steven Chow comedy Shaolin Soccer, this is more Benny Hill than Jimmy Hill, replacing the formers knockabout comedy, musical numbers and martial arts mayhem with copious amounts of spotty arses, crap Cosby sweaters and far too many embarrassing sexual shenanigans that only seem to be there to pd out the movie's megre running time.

It's a load of old balls.

Worth it if you find bored shitless, horse faced Asian girls attractive or if you don't have a girlfriend.

mum's the word.

More cut out fun for you to enjoy now with this great dress up doll of my mum (AKA FemiNazi Agent D).

Remember to get an adult to help with the scissors.

here's one i made earlier.

To celebrate the fiftieth birthday of Blue Peter, here's the Unwell guide to our top ten favourite presenters....EVER!

10. Peter (have you ever met Steven's tailor?) Purves.


9. Peter Duncan (donuts).


8. Sarah Greene (gables).


7. Janet (Sophie) Ellis (Bexter's mum).


6. Simon Groom(ing kids on t'internet).


5. Yvette Fielding (supersonic).


4. Val (up the casino) Singleton.


3. John (The Beast) Noakes.


2. Konnie (meow meow meow) Huq.


1. John (I never done it) Leslie.

muff driver.

Finally got round to obtaining the classic Robin Asquith 'Confessions' series, imagine my surprise then when I realised I'd actually acquired the slightly inferior Barry (Mind Your Language) Evans 'Adventures' set by mistake....

Never mind I thought, It'd be a pity not to share....

Adventures of a Taxi Driver (1976)
Dir: Stanley Long
Star: Barry Evans, Judy Geeson, Adrienne Posta, Robert Lindsay, Liz Fraser, Diana Dors, Anna Bergman, Stephen Lewis, Ian Lavender, Henry McGee, Stephen Riddle, Brian Wilde, David Auker, Angela Scoular and Beatrice Shaw.

The place: London, the time: the really unfashionable bit of the seventies. Greasy haired, bowl cutted Joe North (Evans) is a busty burd obsessed (not a busty burd himself, obviously) taxi driver who uses his cab as an impromptu shag palace to get away from his mundane everyday existence, from ditzy dollies to frustrated, saggy boobed bored housewives, every woman he meets seem to fall for his lost little boy charms.

We first experience his uncanny (some would say ungodly) luck first hand when one of his passengers asks to be dropped off on a bridge so she can jump off.

She's heartbroken, the poor lamb.

Being a nice guy Joe convinces her not to throw herself to her doom and drives her back home (probably after leaving the meter running and charging her extra tho' - you know what cabbies are like) where she unsurprisingly (to us that is) takes off all her clothes and jumps on our crap Casanova.

Suffice to say that just as they're about to get down and get with it (luckily for the viewer not before we've seen Evan's pale, shriveled penis), her boyfriend turns up unexpectedly leaving Joe no choice but to climb out of the window and leg it to his cab stark bollock naked!

He needn't have bother tho', turns out that this blokes missis is a raving nymphomaniac and uses the old suicide trick to pick up fellas all time.

Hi-fucking-larious I'm sure you'll agree.

"Oh no! It's John Leslie!"

The good thing is that all this sex helps take Joe's mind of his hellish home life, dominated by his moaning (but not in that way) peroxide headed mother (Dors....who wouldn't want to be dominated by her?...well not now obviously), arguing with his spotty teenage brother and his clingy, marriage obsessed girlfriend Carol (the ball-faced, bewigged Posta, who also performs the films theme song 'Cruising Casanova') but Joe finds himself at breaking point and decides to move in with his best mate Tom (Lindsay).

Cue even more amusing sexual shenanigans.

"Excuse me, you've shut my cock in the door".

Over the next forty five minutes we're treated (in much the same way as you treat syphilis) to a veritable comedic tsunami of sexual hi-jinks featuring faceless seventies totty and a hilarious escapade with Joe's pet python named....wait for it.....Monty.

Oh. My. Aching. Sides.

"Is that a snake in your pocket or is it just
that your cock is particularly scaly and flexible?"

If this wasn't enough to get your pulse racing, down on her luck former Bond girl (and pube haired temptress) Scoular gets her kit of in possibly the film’s most amusing moment (and that's not saying much) when her geeky accountant husband, who has unexpectedly come home early, surprisingly fails to notice that Joe is lying underneath his wife in a soapy bath!

Scoular: pube haired but still lustable.

Add to this the wonderful Judy (Inseminoid) Geeson playing a stripper (who scarily keeps her clothes on throughout), the comedy gem of Joe mistakenly picking up a trannie and the bizarre last third of the film which forgoes any shagging to concerntrate on Joe getting involved in a jewelery heist gone wrong and you have a movie to challenge Sex Lives of The Potato Men in the charm stakes.

Yes, it really is that good.

Watch out! it's Leslie Grantham.

So what else is there to say about this movie?

Well, Stanley Long's direction is, um, well it's in focus and he makes sure the camera doesn't wander off at the boring bits, whilst the 'script' co-written by Suzanne (Groupie Girl) Mercer from an idea by Long is simplistic at best, cliched and predictable at worst.

Cast wise, the late (almost great) Barry (Mind Your Language) Evans is fresh faced and agreeably cocky enough to worm his way into the audiences affections whilst Robert (Citizen Smith) Lindsay and Judy Geeson give sterling support as his best pal and best pals missis respectively.

The film also boasts a plethora of cameo's from some British comedy legends including Diana Dors, Liz (the one that wasn't in The Cocteau Twins) Fraser, Ian (Dads Army) Lavender, Stephen (On The Buses) Lewis and Brian (Last of The Summer Wine) Wilde.

Liz Fraser: The one that doesn't get
her tits out in British smut movies.
Pity.

Being kind tho' the films tiny (£130,000) budget is put to good use shooting in and around London (that's in England, Europe for any Americans reading) mostly without official permits which gives it a grittier edge than it's more famous Confessions cousins.

It's just a pity the film as a whole doesn't live up to it's guerrilla origins.

Worth a look if you like smut of a not too rude kind.

Or have a thing for huge seventies pants.

it's nearly christmas.....

Nuff said?

magic moments.

"...NOT ACTUALLY CANNIBALISM...CANNIBALISM IN THE TRUE SENSE OF THE WORD, IMPLIES AN INTER-SPECIES ACTIVITY... THESE CREATURES CANNOT BE CONSIDERED HUMAN..THEY PREY ON HUMANS...THEY DO NOT PREY ON EACH OTHER. THEY ATTACK AND...AND FEED ONLY ON WARM HUMAN FLESH. INTELLIGENCE? SEEMINGLY LITTLE OR NO REASONING POWER. WHAT BASIC SKILLS REMAIN ARE MORE REMEMBERED BEHAVIORS FROM...FROM NORMAL LIFE".

DR. MILLIARD RAUSCH.

mystery train.

Was looking for Thomas The Tank Engine stuff for the podlings t'other day and came across this...

Obviously a review to follow (might take longer than normal seeing as they're fighting over who gets to type it).

strange hill.

More food based fun now, finally (again) got round to giving this a razzle after finding it sitting under a pile of Big Cook Little Cook DVD's (gotta love my cataloging system).

It's short n' sweet, a wee bit like the film in question.

Well, I say sweet....

Kogyaru-gui: Oosaka terekura hen (AKA Eat The SchoolgirL, Osaka Telephone Club. 1997)
Dir: Naoyuki Tomomatsu
Star: Kozue Aoki, Yuuki Fujita, Nobuyuki Hasegawa, Michiru Kato, Tadao
Kawamoto, Shiro Misawa, Tsuyoshi Ootsubo, Kenji Sugawara, Dan Takebashi, Maria
Yamazaki, Naoki Yokota and Tetsuya Yuuki.

"Dear Diary, I just killed someone today."

Somewhere in the sprawling metropolis that is Tokyo we come across a pair of ker-razy young guys whose job seems to be handing out flyers and tapes of an oh so slightly pornographic nature.

Nice work if you can get it I guess.

Brian is a sex obsessed neurotic with a bad fringe and his pal (and the movie's star) Jeff is a geeky phone sex addicted loner (with an even worse fringe), even having a favourite operator whom he calls on a regular basis (his phone bill must be huge).

After a hard days smut peddling the pair return to their bosses den of vice to pick up their wages and inadvertently get a glimpse behind the scenes of these homemade video epics.

You see, the bad Yakuza men behind this lo-fi film industry spend their days kidnapping random girls off the street before getting them rat arsed and touching them up on camera.

I told you they were naughty.

Getting bored with all the gratuitous nudity around them our duo decide to go their separate ways.

The director was too scared to shout 'cut!'
as John Leslie strutted his stuff.

Brian hits the mean streets in his search for sex whilst Jeff heads home to phone his special girl pal. Imagine his surprise then when on opening his front door he's confronted by a naked lady baring an uncanny resemblance to the girl on the flyer he's been handing out all day.

Except this girl has angel wings.

Spooky.

The mysterious girl sexily announces that she's his to do with as he pleases, so long as he starts dressing as a school girl, roaming the city and stabbing folk as he climaxes.

No, really.


Excited yet scarily frustrated, Jeff dons his girlie garb and legs it into the night and before long he's come across a drunk in an alley...but obviously not before stabbing him to death with a set of box cutters whilst all the time hazy memories of his families brutally murder play before his eyes.

Realising what he's done, Jeff disappears into the night....

Insert cock...well anywhere you like really.

Playing out like a cheaper (hard to imagine I know), grubbier and way more pretentious version of Romano Scavolini's 1981 masterwork of mentalism 'Nightmares In A Damaged Brain', Naoyuki (Stacy: Attack of the Schoolgirl Zombies) Tomomatsu's arthouse porn shocker may lack the logic (and plot) of his later work, it's thinly veiled story and cardboard characters mearly an excuse to see how far the director can push the barriers of taste and style over substance in a little under sixty minutes.

The answer is quite far by the way.

The acting (if you can call it that) is stilted and cold coupled with jerky, hand held cinematography and an unhealthy pretense for intellectualizing the (mostly sexual) violence on show makes the movie hard to sit thru', but unfortunately for all the wrong reasons.

If you're bored (or that way inclined) there's still fun to be had with the movie by inviting your friends round and imagining yourselves as the panel from The Late Review attempting to justify and explain the artistic merit of a group of guys squirting water up a girls arse in an effort to make her shit herself whilst they film the whole thing.

I can't decide what's more offensive, the
constant violence against women of those undies.

I shouldn't be too harsh tho', I mean what other movie can you think of that closes with a cross dressing loon disemboweling a girl in a shower before masturbating furiously over her writhing body as she attempts in vain to hold her internal organs in place?

At least I know what I'm getting my gran for Christmas now.

meat feast.

The Midnight Meat Train (2008).
Dir: Ryuhei Kitamura.
Star: Bradley Cooper, Leslie Bibb, Brooke Shields, Nora, Roger Bart, Barbara Eve Harris, Peter Jacobson and Ted Raimi.

Horse faced New York-based photographer, Leon Kaufman (Cooper), who wants more from his career than chasing ambulances a shooting shoppers falling thru' shop windows in a kinda You've Been Framed manner. This wouldn't be so bad if he actually did anything about it apart from whine continuously at his waitress girlfriend Maya (the frighteningly banana chinned Bibb). Obviously sick to the back teeth of his moaning face she takes matters into her own hands and gets their arty pal Jurgis (Bart, not Simpson) to arrange a meeting with the pole-arsed art gallery owner, Susan (wasn't she in the Bangles?) Hoff (long necked star of loads of things and distant relative of my wife's boss, Shields).

"I'm sorry I can't return any of your drawings".

After viewing his portfolio of drunk jakeys and stressed commuters she announces that his stuff is shite and that he needs to find his own 'voice' (which is strange cos he doesn't sound dubbed).

Hoff reckons that Leon needs to capture the 'right moment' if he is to truly document the heart of the city and the only way he can do this is to wander around in the dead of night hoping to get shots of tramps pissing in alleys etc.

Don't you just love modern art?

"Shoots you sir!"

Still whiny but somewhat inspired (you can tell because he raises both eyebrows like a tiny mouse getting orally pleasured by Stevie Nicks), Leon grabs his duffel coat and bobble hat before heading off into the night and within a few minutes is following a trio of bad boys as they head down into the subway.

Catching up with the gang just as they're starting to hassle a sexy lady on the stairs (the exotically named Nora) for a wee bit of knife point lovin' Leon silently snaps away as tho' detached from the horror unfolding in front of him.

He snaps back to reality when the gang leader approaches him menacingly (I say menacingly but he's only about five foot two) muttering "Wassup mutha fuckah?" under his breath. Leon keeps shooting before pointing out that the nasty lad is standing directly in the line of the stations CCTV camera so, should he try any badness it'll be capture on film.

Tutting loudly the gang walk away leaving Leon to get a big snog off Nora before she races to her train.

Vinnie parting your mum's beef curtains.

Feeling kinda wired, as John Barrowman would put it, Leon returns home and develops his pics, which garner what looks like an oh so slightly troubled frown from his girlfriend (tho' it may be something else, I was too busy looking at her big, curved face).

Hoff agrees (about the pics, not Maya's face) and tells him that if he can get just two more photo's of the same quality she'll include his work in an upcoming exhibition (of what? women almost getting raped on the subway?).

This bit of good luck is somewhat spoiled by the fact that the woman he rescued has now gone missing.

"Come lick my art-hole".

Leon becomes (very quickly it seems) obsessed with solving the mystery. Could it have been the bad boys circling round and extracting revenge Or could the smartly dressed ex-Chelsea footie hard man now working as a butcher who spends his evenings riding the night trains be to blame?

Well seeing as we saw him off a guy in the pre-credits sequence it does seem the most likely.

Will Leon solve the mystery of the disappearances?

Will Vinnie speak?

Will a bunch of erect nippled demons turn up at the end for no reason other than Clive Barker likes that kinda shit?

Kitamura points out the guy who sold Clive those trousers.

Midnight Meat Train, the American debut from the maverick genius behind Versus, Azumi and the bloody fantastic Godzilla: Final War, the happily hair helmeted Ryuhei Kitamura has been lying gathering dust on the shelves of Lion's Gate for nearly a year now before being unceremoniously dumped into a few really tiny cinema's in the States and, quite frankly it's hard to see why.

It's true that after an incredibly dark first half the movie does become derailed around the 'Leon goes nuts' part as we're then asked to sympathize with the more and more annoying Bibb and one dimensional best buddy Bart that culminates in a ludicrous “Let’s go break into the Killer’s Apartment!" scene that only exists to set in motion the films climax but you can forgive (well almost) this because of Kitamura's frankly stunning direction (aided and abetted by his cinematographer Johannes Kobilke) and starkly brutal murder set pieces.

Like a 21st century redux of the themes and images of the classic Death Line, Kitamura's juxtapositioning of the meat we eat and the meat we are first repulses then numbs the senses to the slaughter we are experiencing on screen. We see the murders as Leon does choosing to observe rather than interviene.

To Mahogany (Jones) the slaughtering of humans is a job.

To us it's entertainment, making us question who the real monster actually is (well obviously it's those pesky demons that appear at the movies end but you know what I mean).

Vinnie farted...and it's an eggy one.

On a performance front, the cast do not too badly with the small collection of cliched roles on offer. Teevee star Cooper is OK as (if a little mouse like) as the lead, all sweat and furrowed brow whilst Sir Vinnie of Jones gets to stand around and look hard (no change there) whilst bashing folk on the head with a hammer, which is nice.

Leslie Bibb, on the other hand keeps your eyes fixed on the screen for totally the wrong reasons, with her bright yellow hair and skin coupled with her creepily curved face I half imagined a large angry monkey to appear halfway thru' and try to peel her.

Supporting role wise, Brooke Shields is angular of features and bitchy of tongue (works for me) and Roger Bart kept reminding me of a camper, bewigged Nathan Lane (again, a good thing).

There are a few other folk but frankly they're only in it to make up the numbers.

Chinny chin chin.

The scariest thing tho' is why Lion's Gate decided to treat the film like they did. I mean Clive Barker must still have a few fans who'd buy tickets and Ryuhei Kitamura is well known enough around horror circles to guarentee a couple of bums on seats.

Whatever they did to piss off the head honcho's it musta been bad, remember these are the folk that bankroll the bloody absymal Saw movies.

Did Clive force the studio heads to wear his trousers?

Stop! Hammer time!

The saddest thing is that after this experience there's no doubt that Kitamura will be on the first plane back home, leaving Hollywood free to tear thru' another top directors back catalogue and remake his greatest hits without interference.

Badly.

Clive on the other hand will probably console himself by having a big bald black guy bite his nipples.

kiss my face.

KISS Meets The Phantom of The Park (AKA KISS Meets the Phantom, KISS in the Attack of the Phantom. 1978).
Dir: Gordon Hessler.
Cast: Peter Criss, Ace Frehley, Gene Simmons & Paul Stanley (AKA KISS), Anthony Zerbe, Deborah Ryan, Terry Lester, Carmine Caridi, John Dennis Johnsto, Lisa Jane Persky and John Lisbon Wood.

"What do you compute, Space Ace?"
"Insufficient data at the moment, Star-Child!"

Welcome to Magic Mountain, the world's most unpopular and dare I say it, shittiest theme park where the frighteningly plain Melissa (Ryan) and her Lego-haired beau (and park employee) Sam (Lester) are enjoying a romantic date wandering around the empty stalls and rides.

The park's business manager Calvin Richards (Caridi) has begun to notice how much cash he's losing so decides (in a fit of pique) to book the world's (nay the universe's) biggest rock band, KISS to play three nights in the Magic Mountain car park.


This decision doesn't go down well with everyone tho', especially the park's head techie guy and all-around mad scientist, Dr. Abner Devereaux (the creepily craggy cult king Zerbe).

You see Abner is the creator of the parks frighteningly realistic animatronic exhibits (you remember, the ones that are losing them all the cash) and reckons that all the public really need for a good time is a quick look at his stiff, moth-bitten robot monkey jerkily rocking backwards and forwards like Norman Wisdom during his final days and not some spandex clad nonces letting it all hang out whilst wearing their mums shoes.

To prove he knows what he's doing, Abner plans to soup up a few of the parks rides (including the kiddies spinning teacups) with a kinda super-charged energy thing which would've been a great plan had a group of bad men not decided to sabotage the bumper cars that day almost killing a group of orphans and blaming the poor doc (saying that tho' he may have hired them to do it, I wasn't really concerntrating if I'm honest).

Not too surprisingly Calvin sacks him on the spot (but does let him keep the keys to his secret lab hidden below the waltzers, which is nice).

Insert cock here.

Stomping off like a stroppy teenager (or a substitute teacher discovering pics of themselves pissed on t'internet whilst looking up pictures of fluffy bunnies for her class) Devereaux promises himself revenge on the park and it's owners before locking himself away in his lair.

Whilst all this is going on, Mel and Sam are still wandering aimlessly around the park stuffing their faces full of candyfloss and firing airguns at ratty teddy bears.

Suddenly, as if he's just developed some kind of spider-sense, Sam announces that there's 'something wrong in the park.... something I don't understand' (could be anything, dating etiquette, personal grooming, hairstyles that suit a big square face...) and promptly leaves to check 'it' out.

Heading straight to the doc's underground lab Sam accidentally leans on a shelf revealing a secret door leading to an even more secret (and deeper underground) laboratory full of bits of old teevee's, glittery blouses, orthopedic shoes, wooden legs and the like.

What evil plan could Devereaux have up his sleeve?

By a strange (or convenient) stroke of luck, Melissa has been following Sam and she too happens upon the daffy doc's ultra-secret underground lab and is even greeted at the door by, Devereaux himself.

Making his excuses and muttering something about brainwashing her date and building evil robotic replicas of KISS the doc sends her on her way. Being a girl she thinks nothing of it and continues her walk no doubt daydreaming about make-up, chocolate and stuff.

Just when you'd given up hope of them ever arriving (or at least checked you were watching the right movie) KISS finally turn up at the park, flying in from the skies and firing lasers from every orifice opening their killer 'set' with the top pop number "Rock and Roll All Night."

"KISS my hairy man nipples!"

Watching from afar is Melissa who, after spending a fruitless day looking for her man and forgetting to buy a ticket for the gig has decided that KISS may be able to help her find Sam (makes you wonder why the McCann's never thought of this). Unfortunately for her tho' the folk hired as secrurity refuse to let her in (they say it's because she doesn't have a backstage pass but I reckon it's cos her hair looks so shite), just then Gene Simmons raises his head and booms out the words "Star-Child!" in a weird, wibbly wobbly voice, causing Paul Stanley to shoot crimson lasers out of his eyes that penetrate Melissa's mind.

KISS, never ones to desert a damsel in distress take Melissa under their wing (well, glittery capes) and offer to show her their magical talismen (talismen? talismans?....is it really that important?).

Dirty sods.

As it happens the band have a magic talisman that give them 'special' powers and they reckon that this would be a good time to explain this to the audience.

Gene (AKA The Demon) has the aforementioned scary voice power and can shoot fire from his mouth. Paul (AKA Star-Child shoots lasers from his eyes that can read minds, eavesdrop on conversations and blow shit up whilst Ace (AKA Space Ace) can teleport, make bird noises and do handstands (do you have the feeling that they were running out of idea's at this point?) and Peter (AKA The Catman) has the ability to be redubbed and appear as a huge black guy daubed make-up and a leotard in longshot.

I'm assuming that these are his actual powers and not the effects of him being way to junked up to do anything other than dribble (and occasionally piss himself) during filming.

Gene explains to Melissa that without this collection of tacky trinkets that they'd become a group of powerless mere mortals with tiny cocks.

Probably.

Leaving the talismen on a shelf near an open window our heroes retire to bed.

Bag o' shite.

Later that evening Devereaux unleashes his secret weapon on the park, a giant robot Gene Simmons intent on smashing up the popcorn stand and abusing (but not in a Gary Glitter way thank heavens) the locals hired as security.

So it comes as no great surprise when the next morning Richards shows up at the bands hotel in a wee bit of a tizz.

Gene, who is busy sunning himself whilst wearing and a long, hooded, silver robe denies all knowledge of the attacks, telling Richards that he was in bed with a cup of cocoa by nine. The rest of the band agree leaving the bizarre question of who it was that really smashed up the park.

Leaving the band to prepare for that nights gig, Richards strikes a deal with the bruised and battered security guys, If they'll let KISS continue with the park shows, he'll let them get revenge on Gene during the after show party.

Could things get any worse for the band?

Later that night as KISS relax after the concert by entertaining Melissa (yup she's still there) with a fantastic acoustic version of "Beth", a brainwashed Sam has been programmed to break into their room and steal the talismen.

The rotter.

Little does he know that they're protected by a mystical force field, giving KISS enough time to finish the song before giving chase.

Breaking into the park (well, climbing over the fence) the band spend what seems like the next six hours battling a variety of robots in a shoddily unconvincing kung-fu style whilst a late seventies wah wah beat plays in the background.

With the good guys busy stomping on a robot monkey in a scene reminisant of a high camp version of A Clockwork Orange, Devereaux sends Sam (this time armed with a force field nullifying laser gun) back to attempt to steal the talismen again.

The plan works leaving KISS (slightly less) powerful (kinda....it doesn't really make sense) and before long they're captured by robots things and locked in a cage.

Jack Crowly kicks out against
Rob Zombie haters.
And his parents who wouldn't
let him have his ear pierced.

A gloating Devereaux excitedly tells the captive KISS all about his plan which involves replacing the band with robots and giving them hypnotic powers which, when the crowd hears certain (added) lyrics will make everyone go mental and (wait for it) smash all the rides.

Is it really worth it?

Leaving the talismen on a table next to the cage that KISS are locked in the doc heads off to the concert to oversee his masterplan for world (well funfair) domination.

Evil robo-KISS head on stage to jeers and boos at the new lyrics but with Devereaux powering up his hypno-thing the crowd begin to get jittery and start slashing the seats.

The real KISS, meanwhile, remember the fact that they still have some power even without their gaudy trinkets and, using psychokinesis make the talismen spookily fly back in their possession ready to KISS some ass!

Not literally tho'.

KISS use the superpowers to fly to the concert arriving just in time to stop the riot and take down their wicked robot duplicates. The crowd, thinking it's all part of the show, cheer uncontrollably as eight tubby stuntmen in drag throw each other about by the hair.

Tearing the robots limb from limb before throwing them into the mosh pit, KISS encore with "Rock and Roll All Night" before tracking down Devereaux, who due to the radiation emitted by his hypno-ray has aged over a hundred years and is sitting helplessly in the corner of his lab covered in his own piss.

There was a time (before Bill and Ted revived their fortunes - ask your mum) when KISS were the biggest band in America (over here we had Slade who to be honest could've kicked their arses).

Replacing any determinable musical talent with glittery space persona's and fright make-up the band had already signed to Marvel comics so a movie couldn't be far behind.

Hiring genre veteran Gordon Hessler (director of such classics as Scream and Scream Again, The Oblong Box, Cry of the Banshee and the fantastic The Golden Voyage of Sinbad) may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but on viewing his limp and turgid excuse for 'direction' you can tell his glory days were behind him (either that or he just couldn't be arsed).

Co-produced by Hanna-Barbera (which is really all you need to know) and obviously seen as a way to showcase the band's love of scifi (good and bad) this is more panto than pathos with KISS doing little more than standing around whilst obviously ad-libbing most of their dialogue (at least I hope no-one got paid to write this tripe) before a team of crap (sorry I mean crack) circus performers take over for the slow fighting scenes and Peter Pan style flying stuff.

Scarily Gene Simmons actually did go on to have an acting career (playing opposite Tom Selleck in the robot riot that is Runaway and as an evil drag queen in Never Too Young to Die) and is now best know for appearing on 'top ten celebrity shaggers' shows sticking his tongue out whilst hinting that he's had your mum.

Which of course is a lie.

It was mine.

happy halloween.

Why are so many spotty teen horror 'fans' getting so worked up about my review of Rob Zombie's cinematic abortion Halloween (from over a year ago too?)....

It'll be death threats from Al Cliver fans next.

I'm just glad I can make their lives so complete. So Mr. Crowly and Ms. Annie Nominus this still is just for you.

Enjoy!

"I know it's shite hen but I've got bills to pay".

price line.

Seeing as it's nearly Halloween here's horror icon (and my fave actor) Vincent Price in a few of the rare occasions that he sold out for the corporate dollar to advertise some quality products.

Enjoy.

start the month...

...as you mean to go on.

september stiffs.

It's time for our usual round up of last months dearly departed dead celebs....

First up is Australian actor Michael Pate best known for playing "Clarence Leiter" (as apposed to Felix), opposite Barry Nelson's "Jimmy Bond" in the 1953 Climax! live production of Ian Fleming's Casino Royale.

Fashion in Action (slacks).

Bill Meléndez, the Mexican-born American animator famous for his work on (and for probably) Peanuts) will draw no more but he can enjoy a nice deadtime story alongside Gregory Mcdonald the author of the Fletch books.

Charlie Brown re-enacts the death of Meléndez
whilst a shocked Lucy Pinder looks on.

His creator is dead but he lives
(as does Chevy Chase...but for how long?)

Celia Gregory, the British actress best known for her role as Ruth Anderson in the Terry Nation classic Survivors (as well as for roles in The Professionals, Bergerac, Tales of the Unexpected, The Problem of Thor Bridge and Reilly, Ace of Spies) finally succumbed to that shows killer virus joining Joan Winston, American fan author and founder of Star Trek conventions in fighting off fanboys from beyond the grave.

Celia Gregory and Dennis Lill cower in fear from
the sight of Ian McCulloch's ginger combover.

A Trekkie yesterday.

Cinema god, seven time Academy Award nominated American actor, film director, entrepreneur, humanitarian, auto racing enthusiast and most importantly (to my kids anyway) the voice of Doc Hudson in Cars, Paul Newman finally drove off into the sunset, but I reckon he wont be making any Heaven based movies with porn director Henri Pachard (AKA Ron Sullivan) the man behind such classics as the sex-and-sadism exploitation epic The Bizarre Ones, The Devil in Miss Jones 2 and Blame it on Ginger, starring Ginger Lynn Allen (before she got dead old looking).

Turkey.