more censorshit......

"Pull this one ya bastards!"

don't leave home without it.

people you fancy but shouldn't (part 8)

Vanessa from Bee Movie.

slime time.

Bacterium (2006).
Dir: Brett Piper.
Cast: Alison Whitney, Benjamin Kanes, Miya Sagara, Chuck McMahon, Andrew Kranz, Shelley Dague and Jessica Day.

Invade, Infect, Mutate, Devour.
Then shite in mah mooth.
Obviously.

Opening with the bizarre sight of two guys in big white suits (obviously on a break from filming from The Crazies) involved in a helicopter chase with The Incredible Melting Man, the movie starts as it means to go on when melty bloke unfortunately crashes into a barn causing a massive explosion.

Off screen of course.

Scarpering before the parkie turns up, the bio-suit boys decide to cross their fingers and hope the scary green vial that the melting man was carrying was destroyed, rather than actually land and go check for themselves.

It seems that secret government agencies just can't get the staff these days.

Meanwhile in the local woods, two young couples are enjoying a friendly game of paintball(?).

Taking a break from covering each other in splatty sticky stuff, Lemon sucking bad boy Jiggs (Kanes - not the Rob Lowe character from Wayne's World, I think) and the bucktoothed blonde beauty, Beth (Whitney, star of Splatter Beach) happen across a seemingly deserted house and, reckoning that their other halves may be hiding inside (why? are they twelve?) decide to take a look around.

Almost immediately the come across mad as a bag of spanners Dr. Boskovic (McMahon, fresh from the car crash that was Vampire Lesbian Kickboxers), desperately trying to find a cure for the aforementioned green stuff from the movies opening sequence.

This is a Lowe.

Surprised to see a couple of young folk wandering around his house he quickly informs them that the place is surrounded by heavily armed black ops types with orders to shoot at anyone or anything that moves and that the safest thing to do would be for Beth to strip naked whilst he gasses her.

Right.

No need.

After a silly accident with a toothbrush and a cheese grater, Boskovic himself becomes infected by the grren goo he's tried so hard to find a vaccine for, and it's not long before he's shite-ing emerald slime from his mooth and pissing snot by the bucketful.

Meanwhile Brook (Sagara, possibly not the one on the Real Estate Board of New York) and soon to die Chandler (Kranz, definately not Matthew Perry) have also found the house meaning it's up to our four chums to stop the rapidly spreading alien gunk beasts without getting diced in the crossfire.

Just to add a wee bit more excitement to the plot, the fairly frisky general in charge of guarding/shooting up the house has decided that the only way to stop the creatures from infecting the earth is to explode a black hole bomb in the infected area.

Nope, nothing could possibly go wrong with that plan.

No sir.

Let's just hope some angry bikers don't turn up too.

I wouldn't want that with my liver and onions.

Ah, Brett Piper, a gossamer winged saviour of the trash movie genre lets loose another quality lo-fi epic onto a shiny DVD full of crappy CG-ed effects, big bogie monsters and a bit of totally gratuitous nudity for good measure.

His cast of non actors struggle gamefully to deliver pages of schlocky dialogue whilst a man in a painted binbag does his best to look threatening whilst pretending to scoff a pile of joke shop bones ALA the creatures from that 1966 Peter Cushing classic Island of Terror (well, I say classic but I really mean not bad....well, I say not bad...).

The creature attempts to give Shelley Dague
a pearl necklace as a peace offering.

Classic bits to savour include Beth's boyfriend getting killed off but no-one noticing, the already mentioned nude gassing and the dolls house under attack whilst a big greenie throws action men at it.

"Laugh noooooooooooooooow!"

And remember kids, there is an important environmental message in the movie which by default makes it worthy of praise.

I must be getting soft in my old age.

cinema's forgotten legends (part 15).

She's blonde, she's ballsy and she's never suffered from Bells Palsy, it's....

Barbara Crampton

Born on December 27, in 1862 (or 1658 depending on where you crib your info from), Babs spent her youth traveling across American and 'ye olde Europe' with her Carnie dad, Crispin 'Crocodlie' Crampton, the famous half man/half lizard trapeze artist and inspiration for the Batman villain Killer Croc.

Her father helped young Barbara develop her love for 'performing' and she was soon appearing with the Ken Roach Dwarfs in an exotically erotic human cannonball cum juggling (that means it's a mixture of the two, not that she juggled jism) act.

Giving up the circus life to attend college, Babs graduated with a Bachelorette of hearts degree in nude monster sex from Roy Castleton State College before moving to New York to take the title role in King Lear for the American Theatre of Terrifying Things.

After being chased out of town by angry Shakespeare purists she decided to lay low in sunny Los Angeles (tho' i've never been there so I can't say it's sunny for sure) where she went on to star in the horror classics Re-Animator (nude and being molested by a severed head), From Beyond (in bondage gear getting touched up by a monster) and Castle Freak (wearing a nice cardie).

Bubbly Babs: Hotter than Linda Hunt.

With roles in the such movies as Puppet Master (not as a puppet tho') and Fraternity Vacation (but only topless), Barbara's career was about to go stellar with her television debut in the daytime soap opera Days of our Lives, where she played Trista Evans Bradford and kept her clothes on.

Addicted to the drug that is a weekly pay check (and realising that there was no-one else on the planet that hadn't seen her naked) she joined the cast of The Young and the Restless, winning some award along the way.

But none of these parts involved her stripped and sweaty whilst tied to a bed being touched up by a monster so frankly we're not that interested.

Red for danger!

After a quickie marriage to ex Magpie presenter Tommy Boyd she made even more soap appearences (most famously on the lighthouse drama Guiding Light) before offing Boyd with a chair leg and swiftly getting engaged to L.A.-based actor and director Kristoffer (the voice of The Vulture in the hit video game Spider-Man: Web of Shadows) Tabori in April 1995.

But this relationship wasn't to last and, after finding her hubbie to be had been secretly directing shitloads of teevee stuff without giving her a role she called off the engagement.

With an axe to the head.

Luckily she'd recently joined the cast of The Bold and the Beautiful as Maggie 'finding' Forrester Warwick-Castle which gave her the alibi she needed to avoid the slammer.

"It's the blind man!"

When not appearing in rubbish or murdering her lovers, Crampton enjoys skiing, horseback riding and yoga as well as running (from the law), working out with weights, and enjoying going to flea markets and shopping for antique weapons.

tokyo a no-no.

for one night only....it's the mighty Cassatron's choice of movie.

Um....actually it's this one.....

Tho' this is also based on a true story.

Possibly.

Monster (Aka: Tokyo, 2008)
Dir:Eric Forsberg
Cast: Sarah Lieving, Erin Sullivan, a few (and I do mean a few) other folk, a large monster (allegedly) but definitely not Charlize Theron.

Or Christina Ricci.

Two environmentally friendly, yet disappointingly plain (the kinda girls you'd see serving on the meat counter in Morrisons), sisters; Sarah and Erin (Lieving - star of 666: The Child, and Sullivan from Transmorphers), are all set for a wee trip to Japan to make a documentary on climate change and stuff.

The politically correct pair enjoy a few days playing tourists (no pesky permits needed...yay!) before heading over to interview the Minster of the Environment (who appears to work in a cupboard and wear his dad's suit) , who assures the two women that Japan and her people love the environment and promise not to hurt it.

Suddenly Sarah begins to shake her camera and zoom violently around the room (don't worry tho', she's not having a stroke or even a bad case of the DT's), it is in fact a massive earthquake hitting the city and not, we repeat not, anything to do with the blurry, CGI turd half glimpsed writhing about in the background.

Yeah right, we believe you.

Effects!

Sarah and Erin are ushered into the basement by the building's security (unfortunately not to be locked in a crazy tentacle sex dungeon) where they pass a good twenty minutes chatting to some sweaty office workers in between sweatily reacting to the lights going on and off whilst someone showers them with dust before getting bored and heading out into the street.

Once outside Erin keeps pointing up at the sky and shouting "Look! A bloody big monster is destroying the city!" whilst Sarah keeps the camera pointed squarely at her sister.

At this point our heroines reckon it'd be best to head for an undercover shopping centre, away from the streets and somewhere they'll be no need (and no way) to CGI a monster into later.

Local.

Wandering aimlessly past the deserted stores, only stopping to occasionally to react to an explosive or scream from outside, the girls become quickly bored with looking at shoes and handbags so decide to try to get to the American Embassy.

Outside all is quiet and the streets are empty (lucky that) save for a few chucks of polystyrene, painted egg boxes and a few extras milling about in a bored manner. Without warning Erin screams and points as the hideous creature passes by and the girls (but not us because that would involve spending some money) see the beast in all it's tentacled glory for the first time.

"Oh no....I've got my woman's period".

Realizing that it's probably dangerous to be out in the streets (the monster, or more likely immigration may get them), the sobbing sisters quickly hide in some bins where they come across a few like-minded survivors who, in comedy broken English reveal that the Embassy (as well as the girls hotel and the nearest McDonalds) has been destroyed.

"You utter bastard Dad...
what do you mean it's not the
one with Charlize Theron in it?"
Cassidy is not impressed.

Sarah, obviously not enjoying sitting about in piles of rubbish with a group of rejects from Takeshi's Castle convinces Erin that they should really be hiding somewhere nicer, maybe with chairs, tables and maybe even food.

So, leaving the others behind they head to the nearest restaurant.

Annoyed at the lack of service, the dipsy duo have a look around the basement for any crisps or pop but to no avail. They do find an old man hiding in a cupboard brandishing a kitchen knife whilst shouting something in Japanese tho'.

You can feel their disappointment when they realize that he can't understand their pleas for food.

Just then the mans granddaughter appears....and as luck would have it she can speak 'the engrish'!

She explains that, due to a big monster attacking the city that the restaurant will be closed for a few days and that customers aren't really allowed in the basement.

Our heroines nod at each other and leave, just as a massive explosion (heard not seen) rocks the basement killing gramps and the girl.

Which is a pity seeing as she was twice as talented and much sexier than both the sisters combined.

"Sorry, I farted....and it smells of egg".

With most of Tokyo destroyed (allegedly) and no hope of rescue, Erin and Sarah walk aimlessly (yes there is a fair bit of aimless wandering in this film, both actual and metaphysically) thru' devastated streets and crowds of walking wounded, finally bumping into a man they meet in the bins earlier.

The happy reunion is shattered by the shrill noise of fighter jets flying overhead followed by loud explosions (which Sarah does actually managed to film!). A squad of soldiers pulling a cannon join the fight as rubble, empty beer cans and the contents of a kitchen drawer are thrown around them.

During the confusion Erin and Sarah are separated and the camera dropped.

Static and noise fill the screen.

The next time we see Sarah she's lying wounded against a car, her sister desperately comforting her as a big pixely worm waves unconvincingly behind them.

Check the shorts.

The movies ending reveals that the camera and tapes were found in the remains of the city and that the fate of the sisters is unknown.

Tho' I'd like to think they returned to their old jobs at Wallmart after unsuccessfully chasing their Hollywood dreams.

Monster!

Some would say that director Eric (Snakes on a Train, Night of the Dead: Leben Tod, Alien Abduction and War of the Worlds 2) Forsberg is a genius, taking the basic plot of the 'monster destroys city genre' and, unlike Cloverfield, which showed us the effects of such a crisis from the point of view of an individual at ground zero, bases the whole film around the said individuals telling us rather than showing us what is happening.

It takes a maverick of proportions rarely seen in modern cinema to even attempt something as groundbreaking as that.

Or a no-talent cheapskate with delusions of greatness prostituting himself by knocking out barely watchable rip-offs to make a fast buck?

Movie God or bearded charlatan?
YOU decide.

But saying that, what do you expect from a movie released by the infamous Asylum studios, makers of such quality fayre as The Day The Earth Stopped, Allan Quatermain and the Temple of Skulls, The Da Vinci Treasure, 30,000 Leagues Under the Sea and, um, The 9/11 Commission Report?

At least a wee bit of gore and gratuitous nudity, that's what.

Is that too much to ask from our Mockbusters?

Or was I upset that 'Monster' promised sweaty ladies running about in Japan being chased by a many tentacled monster yet didn't deliver what I expected?

It must be real, it's on the news.

At least no wee boys died so my Nan enjoyed it.

And yours might too.

The perfect antidote to every Gojira movie ever made (except Godzilla's Revenge), Monster is the perfect film for those with a heart condition, insomnia (the illness not the film) or anyone whose girlfriends refuse to watch scary films because they're too frightening.

You know who you are.

useful things to know (part 1).

when cosplay goes bad (part 4).

smash it up.

Raiders of the Damned (2007)
Dir: Milko Davis
Cast: Richard Grieco, Gary Sirchia, Laura Zoe Quist, Elijah Murphy, Thomas Martwick, Laura Clemens, Amanda Scheutzow and J.C. Austin

"Eye son".

It's the end of the world as we know it, nasty nuclear weapons have put paid to most of humanity (save ex Teen Agent Richard Grieco and a handful of straight to video ne'er-do-wells) and, if that wasn't enough a particularly virulent man-made virus called Agent 9-X has turned a huge number of the survivors into pasty faced zombies.

Spooky or what?

Luckily for us 'norms' the zombie hordes are all stuck behind a huge wall in a designated quarantine zone where they can't get up to any mischief.

Or can they?

Grieco:
"Suckle on my hairless man breasts sinner!".

Everything seems to be coasting along OK in this post weary, apocalyptic world until one day brainy boffin Dr. Wells (who seems to be on a top secret mission to drop soot on the undead) is shot down behind enemy lines by a chino wearing, skull-faced zombie wielding a crossbow.

No, seriously.

This is particularly bad news for the rag tag group of survivor at the nearby military base as they desperately need to have a wee chat with Dr. Wells (ex-tough guy soldier turned actor Murphy in case you were wondering) seeing as he's the only scientist with any chance of discovering a cure for this zombie plague.

But ain't that always the way in these movies?

Within minutes of the good doctor and his lovely assistant Stephanie (Scheutzow...bless you) stumbling drunkenly from the helicopters wreckage the pair find themselves face to putrefying face with the evil zombie madman Colonel Crow (Martwick) who drags them back to his secret fortress.

It seems that the Colonel hasn't let a little thing like death put paid to his military career and he's spent the last several years training the local undead in the art of warfare and plans to breach the walls of the survivors complex and wipe them all out.

But not before he tries his undead seduction techniques on poor old Stephanie.

Do you think he ate her whole?

Back at human central, mad as a lorry scientist Lewis (the poor man's Lou Diamond Phillips, Grieco) reckons that the infamously wayward rebel marine captain and former comrade of Crow, Dewey Crenshaw (Sirchia, looking for all the world like a camper Barry Bostwick if that's at all possible) is the only man who can rescue Wells and sexy Steph.

The only problem is that he's in prison for 'war crimes' and will only take on the mission if he can choose his own team.

No surprise that everyone agrees to his terms so without so much as a change of pants, Crenshaw has gathered together a group of his pals (including the oh so cutesome Quist and some other, less attractive folk) to head over the wall, rescue the scientist and his by now, zombie cock obsessed assistant and, just because it'll be convenient whilst they're there, shoot Crow in the face before he shags anyone else.

The incredibly sexy and talented Quist is by
far the best thing in this movie.
(I should mention that
she also reads this blog).

Little do they know that Crow is almost ready to march on the remanents of humanity and finish the war once and for all.

And there's the little matter of a spare dimensional portal knocking about that he wants to use to breach the survivors defences with that needs dealing with too.

Oh, and he's horny for more hot (by hot I mean breathing) ladies to impregnate with his evil zombie sperm.

No doubt he'll want revenge on Crenshaw too.

He's either gonna be dead busy, or this movie is gonna get really confusing causing the viewer to lose interest and pop Army of Darkness on instead.

"Did you get me a Drifter?"

Mighty Milko Davis, the man responsible the terrifying special effects in the Seduction Cinema classic Dracula's Dirty Daughter, as well as the voice of The Carnivore in that hilarious SciFi comedy Star Warp'd makes his directorial debut with this haphazard riff on Mad Max and Escape from New York via big George Romero's entire zombie back catalogue with a plot so surprisingly packed with ideas and twists that it's like watching about a dozen movies rolled into one.

Pity none of them are that good tho'.

"The pen may be mightier than the sword
but this'll go further up your arse!""

Saying that, the cast do their best to rise above the mish-mash of concepts on show, especially the fantastic Quist (meow) and the b-movie god that is Grieco, proving once and for all that his alimony bill must be huge.

And it's great to finally see a tasteful zombie sex scene.

It's no Nightmare City, but then again what is? Tho' it is about a thousand times more entertaining than 28 Days Later.

And if that isn't damning with faint praise I don't know what is.

in living colour*.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: Super 8 and Spanish style!

*That's 'color' for any American readers.

raiders of the lost arse.

Just received this thru' the post from an anonymous benefactor (under the pretense of a late birthday present) and frankly even I'm scared.

Who knew the world needed a movie about one mans sordid fantasies about raping Oscar winner Steven Spielberg's (albeit peachy for an old guy) arse?

Featuring no cast or crew list, the film tells the story of an angry faced, anal entry obsessed young actor who aspires to the big time.

Taking the advice of a whorish, has-been actress he decides to fuck his way to the top of the Hollywood pile.

And who better to aim for than the aforementioned Mr. Spielberg?

Fuck Spielberg...ET want love!

You see, the actor reckons that if he rapes Spielberg well enough (?), the experience will turn him into a sex slave, unable to resist casting the aspiring actor and making him the world's biggest movie star.

But all actors need to rehearse, so he decides to practice his skills on his balding alcohol neighbour.....

Insert cock here.

Based on the real-life story of Jonathan Norman, a mentalist stalker who was arrested outside the directors home whilst carrying handcuffs, duct tape and a razor knife (but no copy of Hook? - see? even nutters have some taste) back in 1998, the unknown writer/director of RSS has taken the much publicized case and used it as the basis for a heartfelt story of tolerance and the importance of accepting people for who and what they are.

And of the little guy in all of us sticking it to (and into, obviously) 'the man'.

plain jane.

For all you arty types out there who enjoyed the previous unwell dress up dolls (which have included so far Kirk and Spock, Christina Lindberg and my mum), we present jaunty Jane Birkin!

Have fun!

super gran.

Watching Bloody Beast recently reminded me of a strange fact regarding my dear old Gran.

You see, she has this quirk when it comes to watching films. She's quite happy to sit thru' any number of rapes, tortures and mutilations but gets really upset if (and I quote) 'a wee boy dies'.

A Gran watching Sadomaster yesterday
(not mine tho', she was at Bingo).

I remember the day when her and my Gramps had hired House By The Cemetery and Cannibal Ferox from the local 'Washvac' video shop (no longer with us I'm afraid) and settled down for a quiet Saturday afternoons film viewing.

Umberto Lenzi's trash extravaganza of breast skewering, eyeball popping, cock cutting and skull crushing went by without a hitch but as soon as mulleted moppet Giovanni Frezza appeared onscreen chatting to that scary ginger child in that Fulci masterpiece of the macabreHouse By The Cemetery, my Gran turned it off, commenting on how sick the director must be to cast a child in a horror film.

Do my formative years make more sense now?


Anyway, enough inane chat, time for some killings.


Cannibal Ferox (AKA Make Them Die Slowly, Woman from Deep River, 1981).
Dir: Umberto Lenzi.
Cast: Giovanni Lombardo Radice, Lorraine De Selle, Danilo Mattei, Zora Kerova, Walter Lucchini, Fiamma Maglione, Robert Kerman, John Bartha and Venantino Venantini.

Banned in 31 countries, and that's
just for using that godawful font.

Opening with the obligatory New York skyline shots (to convince the viewer that they're watching an American movie), the action soon moves to the shoddily decorated (I'm a furnishing snob, so sue me) flat of sleazy doper Mike Logan (thin haired, Italian exploitation god Radice) where his rat-like buddy, hankering for a score (as they say) has inadvertantly disturbed a couple of mob heavies trashing the place looking for the hundred grand our dealer pal has stolen from them.

When Johnny junkie can’t tell them where Mike (or their cash) is, they be-suited brutes toss him out of a window.

Ouch.

He's got something to put in you.

Meanwhile in the Amazon, 'pretty' grad student Gloria Davis (raven haired French star of Woman's Prison Massacre, S.S. Extermination Love Camp and Return of the Saint, De Selle), her brother Rudy (the weasel faced, Milo Ventimiglia-alike Mattei) and their token blonde slut pal Pat (the petite and pert breasted yet harsh faced, almost milk bar Kerova) are driving around aimlessly (in a Jeep if details like that are important) hoping to find evidence to support Gloria’s idea that cannibalism is, in reality just a myth perpetrated to justify the exploitation of primitive cultures.

She's studying anthropology by the way and this is for her graduation thesis, it's not like she's just decided to do this for a drunken bet ALA Dave Gorman.

Tho' come to think of it that would make a great Edinburgh Fringe show if you're reading Dave.

Some emoting from the cast yesterday.

Our studious pals decide to take a break from all this anthropological jazz at the Turamazonas resort, partly to find directions to the hidden village of Manioca but mainly because Gloria is sick of shitting in a bucket.

Classy burd that she is, Pat has nasty sex with a fat, sweaty policeman in order to use his shower (from the state of her she really should be bathing in bleach tho'. Or piss) before all three head off to catch a barge so as to reach their destination.

Which in Pats case should be the nearest VD clinic.

Pat: licking piss of John Nettles.

To make the journey go a bit quicker Gloria harps on at great length about the theory behind her PHD dissertation to anyone who'll listen, but luckily doesn't stray to far from being a typical girl by screaming at insects vomiting when a local eats a butterfly for good luck.

Upon reaching shore it's not long before the heroic trio are first, run off the road by a pissed up iguana before driving into a big puddle and blowing up the jeep's engine.

Rudy reckons it's time to break out the whiskey and get pissed but Gloria, being the sensible (shoed) one bullies her brother into carrying all their luggage in the direction of the nearest village.

Pat decides to stand around trying to look sultry but unfortunately just looks like a Bulldog licking piss off a nettle.

"Wanna buy a timepiece brother?"

Making their way thru' undergrowth our merry band begin to notice the lush trees around them are filled with half naked natives, silently watching their every move.

Making camp for the night their restless sleep is disturbed by an anaconda snacking on their pet tapir and, reckoning that's as good a sign as any to make a move they continue into the jungle.

It's not long before they stumble across a pair of (very) dead natives pinned to a tree via a crazy death trap.

This sight is even enough to cool even Pat's horny mood.

Tupac Tapir: victim of a long running feud
with The Notorious Mr. Big (snake).

As the pals stand around emoting two sweaty white guys stumble out of the undergrowth and fall at Rudy's feet (you can tell this pisses Pat off). The less sweaty one explains that they've just escaped from some hungry cannibals and that they should all run away as quickly as possible.

stopping in a clearing by a river’s edge (a real one, not the movie) one of the men introduces himself as Mike Logan (see how it's all tying together?...it's good that) who alongside his buddy Joe (Lucchini) have been out looking for cocaine and stuff.

No doubt all the shops in New York were shut so they've had to get a bus out to the Amazon....ain't that always the way?

Heath Ledger: the post Oscar years.

According to Mike's story, they were wandering about minding their own business when a bunch of naked, blue skinned men jumped out, ate their guide (as in tour guide, not the small girl type, tho' that would be worth seeing) and chased them off into the trees.

Pat, obviously upset by poor Mike's tale decides it'd help if she has 'the sex' with him (and if he gives her some cocaine as a thank you then even better) whilst the others cover their heads with pillows to block out the noise.

Next morning everyone awakes to discover that Gloria has wandered off (probably sick of spending every night gazing at Pat's lilly white arse bouncing up and down on a variety of rancid cocks) so they split up (great idea) to look for her.

Mike and Pat stroll off hand in hand together whilst a concerned (or is it bored? I really can't tell) Rudy and limping Joe head off further into the jungle.

It's not long before the brave boys enter the village of Manioca (you remember? the place they were going to visit....that it appears they didn't have an address for. Students eh?), deserted save for a few old geezers, a couple of corpses and, nailed to a tree, what remains of Mike and Joe's guide.

Despite Joe begging Rudy to leave, Gloria's bowl headed bro' is intent on having a wee look around, hoping to find a souvenir shop that sells sticks of rock and the like.

Wait for it............






"Eye son!"
(You're welcome).

Mike and Pat on the other hand are busy enjoying stock footage of a leopard killing a monkey before coming across Gloria alive and well but stuck at the bottom of a muddy hole with just a piglet for company.

Mike pulls Gloria out of the hole but reckoning that this good deed goes against his anti-establishment image almost immediately jumps in himself and tortures the poor wee pig to death.

Bastard.

Rudy boy: A mooth made for shite-in in.

This act of wanton cruelty is the final straw for poor Gloria who starts stomping her feet and shouting that they should all go home before they get eaten.

Unfortunately tho', by the time she's managed to convince everyone that this would be for the best, Joe starts to feel really poorly, looking at everyone with his big puppy dog eyes he pleads with the group to stay till he's better.

Much to Gloria's chagrin they all agree.

At least Mike and Pat are happy about the whole situation, seeing as this gives them even more time to get stoned, get naked and get dirty (as you youngsters say) in the bushes as well as indulging in a bit of post shagging torture of a local native girl who happens upon then during one particularly nasty sex session.

Unluckily (for them) Her brother sees everything and heads off to tell his dad.

You can tell the tribe are angry by this news (or that the director wanted to spice up the film a bit) because that night they butcher and eat a giant tortoise (in full technicolor and loving close up).

Yup, I reckon what this film needs at this point is a few more senseless animal killings.

cheers Mr. Lenzi.

"Didn't you kill my brother?"

Back at the village (the Indios one, not the one in The Prisoner) Joe wakes from his jungle illness just long enough to tell Rudy and Gloria the shocking truth about him and Mike.

And it's not that they're lovers.

It seems the pair fled to South America with the cash they'd nicked in the movies opening, hoping to set themselves up as emerald prospectors (as you would).

But standing around up to your arse in cold water waggling a tea strainer for hours on end and only finding bits of beak and stone begins to take it's strain on their relationship so the duo decide it'd be easier to just torture the whereabouts of the emeralds out of the local villagers instead.

Realizing that the reason the village is so quiet is that anybody that can carry a spear is out searching for this evil pair gives Gloria the impetus she needs to start running as quick as her little chicken legs will let her back to the boat drop off.

Pat and Mike are already one step ahead tho', having already legged it into the bushes taking all the cash, equipment and crisps with them.

After first having sex of course.

A non cursed (and non rotten)
papaya yesterday.

At this point (and because he no longer serves any purpose to the 'plot') Joe dies, leaving Rudy and Gloria to watch in horror as the returning tribes people tear him limb from limb and eat him for lunch before (wait for it) placing the curse of the rotting papaya onto the siblings.

Is there no end to this movies brutality?

At least now she doesn't have to
watch the end of this sick filth.

Tripping over a twig whilst trying to escape, Pat is pounced on by a gang of natives and dragged back to the village alongside a slightly peeved Mike.

The tribe sing and dance (badly) as Rudy, Pat and Gloria are popped into an Ikea style bamboo cage and lowered into a leech infested pond while Mike is tied to a big tree.

Not being one to stand on ceremony, big chief Indios yanks down Mike’s high fashion denim flares and cuts his cock off with a bit of jagged stone before waving it about for all to see then eating it.

Ouch.

Obviously not wanting to be accused of being savages the witch doctor cauterizes Mikes wound and then the entire group is led away further up river.

Mike checks out the Ryan Seacrest skullfuck hat.

Rudy, suddenly deciding he's an action hero, tries to escape but only manages to fall into a pool of piranhas before being shot with a poison dart.

Really, I don't know why he even bothered.

The surviving trio are dropped into a stinky pit whilst the natives once again eat a live animal for our viewing (dis) pleasure, this time at least it's not as cute as a tortoise. Whilst all this scoffing of caiman (not Nick I hasten to add) and dancing is going on Mike (always the optimist) manages to claw his way out of the hole.

At least he died in the name of high art, unlike Vic Morrow,
but at least John Landis didn't try
to hide his corpse by eating it.

Killing a couple of natives for good measure, Mike heads for freedom, leaving Pat and Gloria at the of tribe but he’s quickly recaptured (well we are nearing the films climax) and tortured for his all round badness and crimes against piglets.

Firstly they lop off his (by now redundant) wanking hand before shoving him under a table with the top of his shiny balding bonce sticking thru' a hole in the top.

You can see where we're heading can't you?

Gloria and Pat can only look on in horror (well to be honest they could look away or cry but they choose to watch) as the main fella cuts off the top of Mikes head and scoops out his brain with a big wooden spoon for his pals to eat.

Talk about a head fuck.

For desert the tribe decide to pull Pat from the pit, tear her top off (and let's be honest it probably stinks of shite, blood, semen and egg by this point) and stick a pair of huge hooks thru' her breasts before leaving her hanging like a big bed sheet to die in the centre of the village.

Whilst all this is going on a plane is flying overhead, it seems that Mike's girlfriend from back home has been worried about him and has launched a rescue mission.

Your mum cutting the Sunday roast.

Later that night whilst the tribe are sleeping off their big feast, a young Indio boy takes pity on Gloria (either that or he fancies a bit of rough), cuts her free and leads her out into the jungle. You know her escape couldn't be that easy tho' as some time later he too is killed and Gloria is left abandoned and alone in this green inferno.

Ms. Govan, 1974.

Time passes (and the viewer starts looking at his watch hoping the film's nearly finished because he needs a wee) and the camera pans to a couple of American trappers enjoying a leisurely sail down the river.

Suddenly they hear what sounds like a woman screaming in the trees so decide to disembark and investigate.

Following the noise they find a slightly mad Gloria, crawling around half-naked in the grass, her hair greasier than normal and covered in angry boils.

Returning to civilization and spending months recovering in hospital, Gloria finally gets a bit of good news when she receives her doctorate for the (finally completed) thesis Cannibalism: End of a Myth.

See? it at least had a happy ending.

Don't be fooled by this poster,
Zora Kerova's breasts are not this pert.

Oh dear oh dear, we're back in animal cruelty territory. That bizarre and utterly tasteless fad that blighted many a low budget Italian movie in the late sixties, early seventies rears it's ugly head in this infamous Umbert Lenzi 'classic'.

We know it's wrong so let's not dwell on it.

Cannibal Ferox (or Cannibal Xerox as it was amusingly called during the British video nasty era) is another in a long line of Lenzi's midly entertaining rip-offs of (then) current movie fads and whilst never as enjoyable as the utterly fantastic Nightmare City, as downright shite as Black Demons or as arse numbingly earnest as Man from Deep River, there are still a few (soiled) goodies on offer to enjoy if you look hard enough.

Famous for two things (surprisingly not the acting or direction), eighties Italian horror whipping boy Radice's castration scene and the bit with the breast hooks, Lenzi uses the cod civilisation vs. stone age argument as an excuse for wall to wall violence and general nastiness, somehow believing himself that's he's producing some great work of art, anyone who's viewed the interview with the great man on the aforementioned Nightmare City disc will have to agree that he's completely off his rocker.

Lenzi: Fruit loops.

Good or bad?

Sleazy or super?

Who can really say?

All I know is it has pride of place on my shelf, right inbetween Anthropopagous: The Beast and Land of Death.

Which I think says it all really.

titty bang bang.

As some of you may be aware, I was away visiting the Fatherland a few months back which gave me a chance to catch up with the infamous Jay Bridle, he of the Mad Foxes/masturbation story and proud owner of genuine quads for Razorback and A Nightmare On Elm Street (yes we are both THAT old, we even saw Evil Dead 2 and Day of the Dead at the cinema on the first day of release).

This got me wondering if I could ever find a modern(ish) equivalent of the Foxes that I could secretly pop into the post to him so that he could relive those heady days of untamed gore and unacceptable levels of sexual violence, but this time without the fears of parents walking in mid shandy.

My friends, I may have found it.

In our local Chinese restaurant of all places, in a pile of VCD's on the counter.

Right next to the signed piccie of Jordan Chan.

On the downside it didn't have any subtitles so excuse any inconsistencies (or stuff just made up for 'comedy' effect) herein.

Mr. B: He likes 'the films'.

Leng xue ren lang (AKA Laang huet yan long, Cold Bloodied Ape, The Bloody Beast, Horrible Mr. Tits, 1994)
Dir: Tak-Sing Tam and Chuen Yueng.
Cast: Lawrence Ng, Ka-Kui Ho, Siu-Ming Lau, Lawrence Ng and many others who should know better but not, surprisingly Anthony Wong who must have been busy or, God forbid, too expensive for this film.

Sickest thing about this is the colour scheme.

Bowl haired sad sack Chen Siu-Hsiong (Ng, the far eastern yet surprisingly less Jewish equivalent of Evan Almighty's Steve Carrell but with better hair) has had a pretty bad time of it, not only did his dear mum die giving birth to his sister Ling, meaning that he's spent his entire life running around after her and his sweaty dad rather than look for a job, make friends, change his vest etc. becoming the laughing stock of the town and the perfect target for the bullying local children.

Even his dear old dad thinks he's an arse.

But if that wasn't enough to get him labeled 'Freaky Chen' by the local populace then the fact that a humiliating boyhood experience involving his auntie and breastfeeding has left him with a fetish for young, ample breasted mums.

Aw da poor wee (sick) lamb.

One of these men is a masturbation obsessed pervert
with necrophiliac tendencies....
the other is Chinese superstar Lawrence Ng.

It'll come as no shock then, to discover that the movie opens with poor Hsiong (bless you) banged up in prison and attempting to commit suicide by swallowing the contents of a dozen boxes of Persil washed down with his own urine.

Being the unlucky sod that he is, this and further attempts (utilizing stuff like shoelaces, mousetraps, moldy bread etc) all lead to nowt, so after pausing to bite off a policeman's ear, Hsiong decides to confess to whatever crimes he's been locked up for in the first place.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Then we'll begin.

"Blood in mah mooth!"

Good old fashioned wibbly wobbly flashback effects transport us to Hsiong's bedroom at home, where our misunderstood hero likes nothing better than to relax by masturbating over seventies breasted porn magazines whilst burning thru' the pictures of ladies front bums with a ciggie.

Which is unusual (if not a wee bit dangerous) to say the least.

I know what you're thinking, he just needs to lay off the constant wankfest, get out more and meet a real girl, that'd sort him out.

Well don't worry, because he already has.

Unfortunately, the girl of his (very wet n' wild) dreams is his sister.

So when he's not wanking like a beast and mutilating magazines, he's hiding in the cupboard spying on his sister bathing or when she's 'having the sex' with her hunky beau.

Whilst cracking one off of course.

The blood's real, it's the rest of him that's fake.

Deciding that all this younger sister/masturbation/dreams of genital mutilation stuff he's obsessed with is possibly a wee bit unhealthy (you think so?), Hsiong reckons that a couple of long, lazy country walks will clear his head and take his mind of things.


Amazingly this seems to do the trick, until that is, one afternoon whilst sitting minding his own business Hsiong spots a woman breastfeeding her baby in an idyllic forest clearing.

Thinking it'd be a waste of an erection not to do anything about it he has a wee shufty around to make sure the coast is clear before pleasuring himself in the afternoon sun.

It's getting quite romantic now isn't it?

Forgetting all about his sister (who is, if I'm honest fairly whiny, even if she does look not bad all soaped up) Hsiong starts to spend more and more time on his walks hoping for a quick flash of mummy pillow action.

Unfortunately it's not long before he's wanting to take an, ahem, more (much more) active role in the baby feeding process and to this end, armed only with his favourite DIY hammer, Hsiong sets off on a quest for breast.

A very different type of 'cracking one off'.

Obviously when he finds a nice pair there's the tiny problem of the baby that's attached to them enjoying lunch. Not to worry tho' because with a swift swing of his hammer and a great left foot the screaming bundle of joy is soon dispatched leaving Hsiong free to gorge himself on mothers milk before murdering then raping his victims (and yes, it's in that order).

"Are you the farmer?"

Cashing in on the success of the HK Herschell Gordon himself, Lewis Herman Yau‘s classics of exploitation, Bunman and Yi boh laai beng duk (AKA Ebola Syndrome - both starring mentalist for hire Anthony Wong), Tak-Sing Tam and Chuen Yueng's epic exercise in bad taste is the kind of movie that any self respecting 14 year old living in 80's Britain would kill to own (tho' teenagers today would probably kill each other for a bag of sweets - I blame violent video games myself).

Photobucket pulled the graphic image depicting
violence against women and children so here's a
picture of some bint seducing a dog.

Full of classic scenes and quality 'comedy' turns (mainly from the cliched fat and thin police duo you always get in HK thrillers). The film's detective duo steal every scene they're in with their one note performances and habit of dispensing either comedy one liners, administering severe beatings to various suspects and occasionally falling over in an amusing manner.

Best of all is a scene when, after recovering a sample of Hsiong's sperm from one of his victims arses (in glorious close-up), they decide that the best way to get a DNA match is to make a cell of sweaty suspects masturbate furiously over copies of the Chinese equivalent of Hello Magazine.

Hat.

So if you and your loved ones fancy a night of nasty necrophilia, unsettling infanticide and a wee bit of incestuous perving (but don't want to wake the kids) then this is the film for you.

people you fancy but shouldn't (part 7)

Susie Dent, the oh-so cutesome Countdown word expert.

the full frankie.

mattei son.

Zombies: the Beginning (AKA Zombi: La creazione. 2007).
Dir: Bruno Mattei (as Vincent Dawn).
Cast: Yvette Yzon, Gerald Acho, Alvin Anson, Dyane Craystan, Jim Gaines, Paul Holme, B.B. Johnson, James Gregory Paolleli and Mike Vergel.

Discovered floating on a makeshift raft somewhere off the coast of Blackpool, the lone survivor of the good ship Dark Star, Sharon ( Yzon, back for more) is taken to a local hospital by a group of hunky yet spookily dubbed medics where, unlike the previous films ending, she doesn't die and return as a zombie but just has bad dreams about rising from the dead instead.

What a cheat!

If that wasn't bad enough, the insurance company seem hell bent on blaming her for the loss of the ship/death of the crew rather than believe her tale of marauding zombies, creepy Conquistadors and flamenco dancing demons inhabiting an island that can't be found on any nautical map.

I mean, who'd make that shit up?

"I never done it!": Yzon, Shot to fuck but
still fitter than your mum.

Whilst the fat cats tut loudly Sharon is forced to swear at an old woman and knock a glass of water over before stomping off in a huff to live in a monastery.

As one would if you'd been pulled up at work accused of killing your workmates (and writing off the delivery van).

No, it's not a pearl necklace nor did I give it to here.

Skip forward a year and Shazza is still in the monastery, sleeping on the floor, having flashbacks to the last movie (on a plus side tho' the monks outfit and slicked back hair makes her look hotly exotic), fetching water and other stuff that monks do when, out of the blue (well, out of a car but you know what I mean) one Mr. Barker (Holme), representative of an important pharmaceutical company The Tyler Company (that is no way related to The Umbrella Corporation or Weyland Yutani) turns up to see her.

Seems that six months earlier his company sent a scientific team to the very same island to capture a few undead specimens to transport to a secret lab to experiment on.

All contact with the team has been lost so Barker wants Sharon to head up a rescue mission, consisting of a squad of tough marines, one of which looks like a down at heel, heroin addled stripper (yes, I'm talking about you Craystan), the aforementioned Barker and a geeky scientist to the island to discover what's happened.

Hang on, this plot sounds very familiar.

Anson might look the suave, macho bastard right
now but you just wait till the fucking starts...

Arriving at the secret island research centre (in reality a couple of lean to sheds and a disused tennis court) via model submarine our happy go lucky marines head towards some stock footage of a gas works in the vain hope of unraveling the mystery of the disappearing scientists.

Hint: zombies may be involved.

Setting up camp in a disused lab the team are horrified (well I think the reaction is horror, it may be mild apathy) to discover row upon row of strange, coffin-like glass containers housing all manner of bizarre, genetically altered humans (oh, and a few Tiny Tears dolls painted green) and a wall of steel cages containing a dozen or so very dead (and very naked) Filipino extras.

Suddenly and without warning (well, if you discount the slightly scary music building to a crescendo and monsters eye view of the scene) a hideously deformed, split stomached woman lunges out of the shadows towards a terrified Barker.

Luckily studly marine Taylor (Anson) is on hand to shoot her in the face whilst grimacing badly.

Insert cock here.

Deciding that it'd probably be a good idea if they had a wee look around and secured the area (rather than all vying to get into shot whilst trying to look the most scared), tough guy Thompson (loud voiced Acho...bless you) leads the squad into what looks like a post rave warehouse to look for any survivors.

After what seems like an eternity of Thompson shouting orders whilst lard arse Private Ludman (Vergel) quotes entire pages of Hudson's dialogue from Aliens the eventual gloom and deathly silence is abruptly broken by the 'ping ping' of the teams motion detectors.

Someone (or something) is approaching...

Could it be a vile mutant thing?

An undead horde?

A giant chicken perhaps?

no.

It's a naked dwarf, covered from head to (tiny) toes in green house paint wearing a pair of joke shop Austin Powers-esque teeth and a paper mache headpiece with a ping pong ball eye stuck to the top.

Dribbling.

Taking a minute to compose themselves (and no doubt a filming break to dry their eyes), our macho mob do what any self respecting person would (no, they don't pick the wee fella up and give him a hug).

They torch the freaky fucker with a flamethrower.

...Iggle Piggle's not in bed....

Legging it back to the lab like a pack of terrified Brownies escaping from a tent with a spider in it, Ludman spends the next ten minutes complaining that 'We're not equipped for this shit!' (what? how can you not be equipped for setting fire to dwarfs?) and trying to convince a by now almost sonic booming Thompson that they should all go home.

Just when it looks like they may just pack up and call it a night (which had me worried cos it means I'd have to pick another movie to watch and I've only got Black Sun- The Nanking Massacre, a compilation of Doctor Who fan films and Bloody Beast within reach at this point), the stripper points out that she's found the location of the missing members of the scientific crew. It seems that each one has a special tattoo that works a bit like a car alarm or something which means that the mission is back on (much to Ludman's delight).

Everyone gets suited and booted for a quick trip to the bases underground power core to grab the scientists and head home in time for tea.

"Rrrrrrrraaaaaauuughhhhhhhh Rrrrroooowwww!"

Leaving Barker, Shazza, specky Brit science guy and man in charge Lt. Gorman (well, this movies equivalent) behind to watch the teams progress on teevee the squad sneak across the car park, behind the bins and into the (wooden doored) power station.

Moving deeper and deeper into the complex they come across a vast (well, I say vast, it's about the size of a small kitchen) storeroom filled with plastic wrapped bodies suspended from hooks, slime oozing from the walls and an unnatural and thoroughly evil eggy smell emanating from a large vent in the wall.

And if that wasn't enough, on a large table in front of them lies a frighteningly pregnant woman with oozing excema and really bad dentures.

Kramer (still shit faced on cheap crack), being the lady of the group, goes over to comfort this poor wreck, who can only mumble "kill me" before her stomach erupts in a shower of grue revealing a melted doll covered in syrup.

Cue the flame thrower (well they have paid thru' the nose to hire it).

Exotic sweaty girls with machine guns....
what all cinema should be about.

Whilst all this is happening, Private Soontodie nervously peers thru' the hole (probably looking for biscuits) just as a horde of unwashed homeless extras crawl out, moaning and shuffling like a band of Glasgow neds on a Saturday night out.

The soldiers panic and start firing off indiscriminately before legging it back to the school bus (sorry, armoured personnel carrier) parked outside.

Shazza, stuck behind a teevee monitor watching a bunch of highly trained fighting machines running screaming thru' dingy corridors whilst piss stained tramps try to bite their arses, decides it's time to act (no, i'll resist the temptation to comment), grabbing a big gun and charging to the rescue whilst Barker stands around stroking his beard and Gorman repeatedly takes off his hat and rubs his head in a kind of 'what the fuck have I agreed to be in?' manner.

"It's Cccccccchhhhhrrrrriiiissstttmmmaaassss!!!!!!"

After an explosive shoot out and subsequent rescue that would make a gang of five year olds playing soldiers proud the survivors regroup in a nearby kiddies playhouse to plan their next move.

And it's not looking good for our heroes.

The submarines not due back for a fortnight, they're almost out of ammo and it looks like there's a traitor in their midst.

Kramer it turns out, is the teams electronics expert (everything else I can accept but this is a leap too far) and volunteers to go out and fix the antennae array (from the state of her I wouldn't trust her to fix me a sandwich) whilst the others sit about and sweat.

Everything seems to be going to plan until Barker tries to kill Sharon (yup, he's a bad guy, trying to sneak zombies back to the mainland to help cure cancer or something), Kramer gets ripped in half by a gorilla (no, really) and the undead break thru' the cardboard lab doors hungry for flesh (and by the way they look at Taylor a wee bit of tanned manass too).

Inside Gary Glitters mind.

The retreat is short and bloody leaving only Taylor and Sharon alive and stuck in the back of a van surrounded by the undead (and unwashed).

But it's not all doom and gloom, luckily Kramer's sacrifice (oh, OK, stupidity in not seeing a bloody great gorilla) wasn't in vain, she managed to send an SOS to the sub and it'll be on site in an hour or so.

Giving Sharon just enough time to head into the bowels of the base to confront the real horror behind the zombie menace....

Mattei had a hard job ahead of him if he was going to match the all round shoddiness and ineptitude of Island of The Living Dead when he decided to film this nail biting sequel - luckily he managed to not only match it but in some ways even surpass the unbelievable levels of incompetence achieved previously.

The plot (and much of the dialogue) is borrowed wholesale from Aliens with the climax of the Luigi Cozzi classic Contamination thrown in for good measure, all held together bythe largest collection of non actors ever assembled in one room, every one of the bravely and with surprising straightness, uttering the most clichéd and banal dialogue ever committed to celluloid.

And frankly it's a joy to behold.

Yvonne contemplates the stuffed crust.

Thoughout the rot there are shots that echo the greatness of Bava and Argento, reminding you of Mattei's early career as a film editor and whilst none of his films ever live up to there basic premise, his unwavering belief in and love for horror cinema coupled with his willingness to embrace new technologies and ideas enabling him to carry on working well after most of his contemperaries had thrown in the hat.

Never anything less than totally entertaining, Mattei's gore soaked swansong is the perfect end to an illustrious career in zombie cinema.

smith's crisp.

Big chinned, floppy haired unknown Matt Smith has been named as the actor who will be clawing the key to the TARDIS from David Tennant's still warm hands next year to cries of "Who the fuck is he?" from a concerned viewing public.

Noel Fielding IS The Doctor!
Who'd have thunk it?

Smith, 14, has already built up an impressive CV on stage, on his paper round and the small screen (well that really depends on the size of your telly doesn't it?) including BBC Two's critically acclaimed yet mostly unwatched political drama Party Animals in which he played a parliamentary researcher who wore glasses similar to Tennant's in Doctor Who, the hit comedy The Mighty Boosh and opposite the fish-lipped, Jew baiting ex Doctor Who star Billie Hartnell in the 2006 adaptation of Philip Pullman's The Ruby and the Wax, which starred Billie as Sammy Hagar.

Billie: One day he will come back.

He later reprised his role as Jim's tailor - the dog bodied roadie sidekick to Sir Hank Marvin - in The Shadow's Oop North (2007).

The actor's stage work has included stints selling ice cream at London's Royal Court and in the bar at the National Theatre.

Smith: (Time) lordy lordy!

Born to a family of Romanian travelling minstrels in 1998, Smith originally planned to be either a train driver, astronaut, superhero or a famous footballer, playing for the Leicester City and Nottingham Forest youth academies, a serious injury sustained whilst saving a young mother from a rampaging bull in Bloxwich town centre scuppered his sporting dreams and, after seeing Timmy Mallett in panto as Buttons decided to give 'this acting lark' a shot.

In an exclusive shot from the new series,
Smith is seen battling the dreaded Sontarans.

His work cleaning out the ashtrays at the National Youth Theatre got him both an agent and his first professional job before graduation, appearing in the violently titled Fresh Kills at the Royal Food Court, Ipswich in 2004, before joining the cast of On the Shore of the Wide World for a drink in the theatre bar.

It was here that he demonstrated his unique ability to balance 12 beer mats on his chin, a skill which won him the role of Torchwood in Lennie Bennett's The History Boys.

His West End debut in Swimming With Sharks, opposite ex Supergirl Christian Slater and some sharks (obviously) before appearing alongside the saucy star of Rome Lindsay (mother of Blue Peter presenter Peter) Duncan in That Face of Boe to critical acclaim at London's Duke of York's Theatre.

Slater: Menswear.

Current Doctor and star of Top Gear, sexy Scotsman David Tennant, 27, has said Smith's "life is about to change in so many ways, what with puberty approaching" and Doctor Who Godhead Steven Moffatt, who was kind enough to speak exclusively to me on the phone earlier had this to add.

Duncan: experienced.

"Aye son, we had a wee shuftie thru' loads o' famous actors an' stuff but it made sense to cast wee Matt. I mean that bastard Tennant costs a bomb noo he's famous but wid the new fella bein' under 16 we can pay him what we like....as long as he's got The Beano and a Mars bar he's happy. You ken?"

Moffat and Tennant just before the
Scots superstar was pushed.

"The only problem we've got is with him being a wean we cannae do night shoots on a school night seein' as his mam wants him tucked up in bed before 9. Noo get to fuck before I set aboot ya!"

More news as it comes in but until then, welcome aboard Noel!

who's next?

Find out the morrow at 17:35, BBC 1.....

december stiffs.

Happy new year to everyone that follows this illustrious blog (yup, all six of you) and prepare yersel' for the biggest selection of stiffs I've ever had the misfortune to compile.

Must have been the cold weather.

"He did it! he did it! he did it!"

Creepy bearded Paul Benedict best known as the sinister Number Painter from Sesame Street, and for his role of a slave trader in Dino De Laurentiis' sexy hump-a-thon Mandingo painted his last over Xmas, joining top tunester Derek Wadsworth, the groovy jazz trombonist, session musician, composer and arranger for such classics as the Gerry Anderson productions The Day After Tomorrow and series 2 of Space: 1999, Britannia Hospital (1982), The Whales of August (1987) and A Child Is a Wild Thing as well as producing two gold albums for Bill (Corries Jack Duckworth) Tarmey.

On the movie front the cruel hand of death stole away Munchkin queen Donna Stewart-Hardaway, creator of Famous Monsters of Filmland, occasional author, actor, producer and full time film fan Forrest J Ackerman and star of the classic scifi blockbuster It Conquered the World, Beverly Garland.

Lest we forget Apocalypse Now's Navy Gunner's Mate Lance Johnson and star of the chiller Mommy Dearest Sam Bottoms, one time Batman villain Van (The Minstrel) Johnson and former Catwoman and owner of the sexiest cha-cha heels ever, Ms. Eartha Kitt.

Oliver Postgate the genius animator, puppeteer and writer behind such classics as Pingwings, Pogles' Wood, Noggin the Nog, Ivor the Engine, Clangers and Bagpuss passed away to the toot of the Soup Dragon as did Yuri Nikolayevich Glazkov, former Soviet Air Force officer, cosmonaut and author of several books including a technical guide to spacewalking, Outside Orbiting Spacecraft, the space exploration bible The World Around Us as well as several science-fiction novels (all in Russian).

Brit teevee icon and reluctant sex symbol Kathy Staff, best known for her portrayal of northern battleaxe Nora Batty, in Last of the Summer Wine as well as that of Doris Luke in Crossroads; appearances in Coronation Street as Vera Hopkins and in Open All Hours as Mrs Blewitt hung up her wrinkled stockings for the last time as did (if she/he wore them) transgendered voice actress and comic book writer and artist Madeleine Joan Blaustein. Famous as, amongst other things, the voice of Sartorius in Yu-Gi-Oh! GX as well as the dulcet tones of Meowth in Pokémon and if that wasn't enough she also served as Creative Director for the unofficial Unwell bible The Weekly World News.

Telly 'tec fans were in shock at the death of Horst Tappert, the actor behind Inspector Stephan Derrick in the German television drama Derrick, tho' not as shocked as Bond fans waking to the news that one time Bond gal Celine Cawley, who was bludgeoned to death by her hubbie in their garden.

If all that wasn't depressing enough, we've still to mention Gregoire, Africa's oldest known chimpanzee, Carry On star Jack Douglas, nurse Chapel herself (and the voice of the Enterprise computer) Majel Barrett-Roddenberry.

Playwright, actor and one time Doctor Who star (yup, that's how I'll remember him) Harold Pinter, Starsky and Hutch's grumpy Captain Dobey (Bernie Hamilton), former saline breasted AV star cum manga heroine Ai Iijima and Edd Cartier, illustrator extrodanaire whose work has graced such iconic magazines as The Shadow, Astounding Science Fiction and Doc Savage Magazine.

But the most upsetting death last month had to be the passing of Bettie Mae Page.

Famous in the 1950s for her fetish modeling and pin-up photos, Bettie was also one of the earliest Playmates of the Month for Playboy magazine as well as the main pin up for many of us check shirted, bequiffed 80's indie kids (and girlfriend of The Rocketeer!).