Monday, January 25, 2010

playaway.

It's been a helluvah week here what with all three of the unholy tiny trio housebound suffering from some particularly virulent version of the Umbrella virus, Mrs. Lamont coughing and shaking in the corner and myself, whilst seemingly immune to the scabby plague sits feverishly and scared, attempting to find a cure as the undead hordes of Partick (that's in Scotland by the way) slowly lumber toward our crumbling castle home whilst bravely trying (and failing) to watch a few films from the ever increasing pile of shiny shite on the table.

Poor Cassidy was so feverish he attempted even to eat a Jess Franco box set mistaking it for a block of Galaxy chocolate.

Tho' he may have just fancied seeing some busty women being whipped whilst they lie bound in chains in a damp dungeon.

I mean, he is nearly four after all.

"He's no Jean Rollin Dad!"


Anyway, as I was about to consigned myself to a life free from celluloid stinkers I was surprised to find my doctor prescribing a course of early seventies Euro-porn vampire flicks as the only thing that would cure my malaise.

No matter how uncomfortable this treatment would be it was my last hope and if it did fail at least me and the little fella will get to enjoy some father and son time, bonding over a few 'arthouse' classics.

I mean you can't start a love of cult cinema early enough these days.

The Devil's Plaything (AKA Veil of Blood, Das Schloss der schwarzen Hexen, Den pornografiske jungfrun, Plaything of the Devil, The Curse of the Black Sisters, Vampire Ecstasy and probably dozens more. 1973)
Dir: Joseph W. Sarno.
Cast: Marie Forså, Nadia Henkowa, Anke Syring, Ulrike Butz, Nico Wolf, Flavia Keyt, Irina Kant and a few other folk with even higher Scrabble scoring names.


“The hour of the wampire draws closer.”


Opening with shots of a dark foreboding castle somewhere in deepest darkest Europe (I'm thinking Germany by the size of the lady gardens on show) and to the trippy sounds of a conga beat, we find ourselves privy to a groovy girls night-in being held in a cosy dungeon where a busty bevy of wobbly arsed women are undulating sexily (well kind of) to the tribal rhythms.

Leading the festivities is a big of hip, poppy of eyes and scarily simian faced woman named Wanda (Henkowa from the classic Bibi: Confessions of Sweet Sixteen and the not so classic Baby Tramp) whose idea of a good time seems to involve aggressively touching up women and shoving her ample arse into the camera at any given opportunity.

No complaints from the Cassman so far then.

The party reaches it's climax with the announcement of the evenings raffle draw and after yanking the winning ticket from between a black lasses buttocks, Wanda fetches the winner (a lovely dirty - in both senses of the word - blonde named Brenda) and lays her on the dining table before getting Brenda to masturbate herself silly with a big black dildo.

And all this before the opening titles.

I've no idea how they're going to top that but with the introduction of the blonde bucktoothed bimbette Helga (Forså, whose performance as Lajla the girl in aquarium in the smash hit Sex in Sweden is still talked about in hushed tones on the internet to this day) and the council estate Marlene Dietrich-alike Monika (Butz, star of Love in 3D and What Schoolgirls Don't Tell) you can kinda guess where they're heading.

How your Mum could afford your Christmas
presents when you were younger.
Happy now?


Turns out that this gorgeous (well, I say gorgeous...) pair are descendants of a lusty lesbian vampire cum posh bird Danielle Varga and our sexy strumpets are in line to inherit all her wealth.

Kerching.

But in order to collect their inheritance Helga and Monika must live in Varga’s spooky castle for a year, thus giving wicked Wanda plenty of time to seduce Monika and complete her plan of placing the revived spirit of Danielle Vaga inside the poor girls body.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well apart from Monika being completely straight and there being absolutely no hot girl on girl action in the next ninety minutes?

"Don't look down hen but wee
Jimmy Krankie is trying to shag your leg".


Before we get a chance to let the horror of that situation sink in, a battered old jalopy breaks down right outside the castles gates, I mean come on what are the chances of that?

Turns out that the car belongs to the local doctor (and expert in supernatural activities) Julia Malenkow (big haired Syring from Sexy Susan Sins Again) and her hunkily funky sideburned brother Peter (Confessions of a Sexy Photographer star and ex-Gladiator - possibly - Wolf) who decide, after a wee bit of uncomfortable flirting, to see if the castle has a phone that they can use.

Upon opening the door Wanda, now wearing a harsh school ma'am bun and a centre parting that looks like it's been burnt into her skull thereby revealing even more of her frightening monkey mouth introduces herself as the castles 'housekeeper' and invites the siblings inside to meet the house-mates and enjoy a nice bit of tea and toast.

Yum.

However, behind the smile (well grimace) Wanda is worried as to the real reason that a doctor of spookiness has turned up at the castle at the moment she's about to put her lesbian resurrection plan into operation and during supper she subtly asks Julia if she's just on holiday or if she's visiting because she think there's a bit of kinky vampirism afoot?

Julia, scoffing another Mini-Roll responds (rather enigmatically) by saying “I'm here to study the superstitious beliefs of the villagers.”

Wanda raises an eyebrow before deciding that Julia actually isn't too bad looking and she might enjoy a wee bit of the Sapphic action too.

A sly wink from Wanda is all that's needed for the local lesbian vampire coven (remember the pre-credits?) to begin seducing the house guests via the medium of modern dance and vaguely rude sounding German phrases.

The competition for Ms. Pikey 1977 was hotting up.


As the disco seduction continues the guests all become much sweatier and much more husky which, in turn means Wanda's powers of persuasion become stronger.

But not strong enough to seduce Julia.

Tho' she has started to rub her brothers inner thigh whilst licking her lips, which is nice.

By this time our heroine has begun to notice something is amiss (the fact that everyone else has begun mounting candlesticks and anything remotely cock shaped has probably given her cause for concern too) and takes the precaution of hanging a huge necklace of garlic around her brothers big thick neck before taking to stalking the castle grounds waving a crucifix around like some harsh faced middle-aged Buffy The Vampire Slayer.

On crack.

"It doesn't matter how hard I turn
the dial I can't get Radio One!"



So will Julia be able to resist her brother's yummy manliness?

Will Wanda's plan succeed?

Will the all girl vampire dance troupe decide to enter Britain's Got Talent?

And most importantly will Monika fix her make-up?




From the mind of 60's sex-ploitation legend Joseph Sarno, The Devil's Plaything takes the vampire genre by the scruff of it's neck whilst tugging hard on it's genitalia to produce a warm and sticky mix of sex, horror, more sex and dancing.

The more appropriate title of Vampire Ecstasy suits the movie's tone better tho' given the distinct lack of neck biting on show, replacing as it does the usual vampire bloodlust with an ability to control their victims minds via the power of pure sexual arousal.

Which shouldn't come as any real surprise seeing as the movie is really just one big lesbian porn film masquerading as a horror flick so as to not embarrass the producers parents.

This doesn't mean that the film isn't enjoyable (and sometimes even for the reasons the makers intended), it's heady mix of (hopefully intentional) stilted dialogue, none too subtle phallic imagery and desperate attempt to appeal to both the art and porn crowd raising more giggles than erections.

Tho' scarily there are a group of chin stroking movie critiquing no-hopers that harp on about how similar (and in some ways much more successful) Joseph W. Sarno's masterpiece is when compared to the works of Ingmar Bergman.

It's true, I've met some of them.

And yes before you ask, none of them have girlfriends.

"Ooh Vic! I've fallen".


Sweaty, sleazy and a wee bit queasy, The Devil's Plaything comes across as a better made, (slightly) bigger budgeted version of any Jean Rollin movie you care to choose but populated by far less attractive actresses wearing the type of nightmarish Bri-Nylon fashions that even your Gran wouldn't be seen dead in.

Damning with faint praise?

Well it is what I do best.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

skid row.

Check me reviewing the 'modern' films and trying to be down with 'ver kids'.

Yup, must be that midlife crisis rearing it's ugly head.

That and the fact that Caroline D'Amore's frighteningly poppy eyes are spookily hypnotic in their intensity, almost as if she could see me undressing thru' the screen.

Sorority Row (2009).
Dir: Stewart Hendler.
Cast: Briana Evigan, Leah Pipes, Rumer Willis, Jamie Chung, Margo Harshman, Audrina Patridge, Caroline D'Amore and Dame Carrie of Fisher.


"Ellie, I love you because you're always
there to help with homework.
You're like a spellcheck with a nice rack".



Welcome to the Theta Pi sorority house where a group of twenty something pneumatic actresses desperately trying to pretend that they're teenagers are enjoying one of those big parties that only American kids seem to hold.

I mean we were lucky if we were able to sneak out for a crafty fag after lights out without Matron catching us.

This is a great excuse to not only meet our main cast (and get a glimpse at their 'characters') but to see some pert bummed young actresses bouncing around on trampolines in their pants whilst listening to Get U Home by top pop combo Shwayze.

Ah bliss.

Between the amusing drinking japes and topless dancing we're introduced to our six sexy sorority sluts; the soon to be dead Megan (The Hill's Partride), the Acromegaly headed Ellie (the chisel chinned yet curvy of breast Willis), caster legged loose lass Chugs (Run of The House's Harshman - who is neither harsh nor a man), token Asian babe Claire (Chung from Dragonball: Evolution), queen bitch, group leader and possessor of a strange old/young face Jessica (Pipes, daughter of the Ghostwatch baddie and star of far too many American shit-coms to mention) and nice girl (with a boys name) Cassidy (Evigan, daughter of the great god Greg Evigan and star of the Linkin Park video for their single Numb).

So, can we get back to the plot now?



Thank God they've got legs, I mean imagine
the mess they'd make if they were snails.



Well it seems that Megan's beau the rat-like Garrett (who is also Chug's brother) has been having it away with another girl and our cheeky chicks are planning the revenge to end all revenge.

This involves pretending to drug Megan so she falls 'unconscious' then have her vomit up chicken soup halfway thru' foreplay.

If that wasn't complicated enough the girls have rigged up a camera so they can record the whole thing for posterity.

Everything is going according to plan and, on cue Megan sits up, barfs and the collapses as her friends run in screaming as Garrett wets himself in the corner before stomping off to the toilet for a cry (and no doubt finish himself off).


"I don't mind touching his corns but hairy or not
there's no way I'm shite-in' in his mooth".


Reckoning that they could take this fabulous joke even further, Jessica persuades Megan to start dribbling in an attempt to convince poor Garrett that he has, in fact killed her.

And you wonder why I think all blondes are evil.

Driving to a deserted old mine in the middle of nowhere the girls pop Megan on the floor as they discuss who's going to cut the body up, where they should hide it etc., occasionally looking over at Garrett and sneering as he gets more and more hysterical and pissed stained.

They can't have been paying to much attention to him tho' as the next thing you know he's buried a tire iron into Megan's chest in an attempt to clear her lungs of air so she'll sink quicker when throw into the nearby lake.

Quite understandably the poor guy is fairly surprised when, at the point of impact Megan sits up screaming as torrents of blood shoot from her chest cavity.

Jessica decides that now would be the best time to tell Garrett that it was all a practical joke and that Megan wasn't really dead.

As you can probably guess, Garrett fails to see the funny side of the whole thing and continues to cry whilst the girls argue amongst themselves as to what to do.

Luckily good old (yet young faced, remember?) Jessica has a plan and using her amazing powers of persuasion (and bitchy bullying tactics) convinces everyone that they should dump their pals body down a mineshaft and continue their lives as normal.

Cassidy, being a good egg with a cool name disagrees, trying to get everyone to go to the police and explain what happened.

Jessica takes a moment to think it over before threatening Cass with a bloody good hiding and, to keep her quiet, gets Chugs and Claire to wrap Megan's body in Cassidy's coat so as to keep her quiet.


Admit it, you would,
if only to get to meet her dad.



Jump forward eight months and it's time for our girls to get ready to bid farewell to college life. Cassidy is no longer part of the cool gang, devoting her spare time to charity and voluntary work (seriously they even make a point of mentioning it about three times) and hanging about with her gorgeous (and not mental, oh no) boyfriend whilst the bitchiness goes on as normal for the other Theta Pi gals.

Everything is going swimmingly until half way thru' the ceremony Megan's spooky eyed, square faced sister, Maggie (Pizza Connection heiress D'Amore) appears in a slo-mo windswept haze that freaks out the already jittery Ellie and sends Chugs off to find solace between the legs of a hunky jock.

I think this is what they call foreshadowing or something.


"Shhhiiiiiiimmmmooooooooooo!!!!!"


Understandably freaked out by Maggie turning up out of the blue (and the fact that when she speaks to them her eyes seem to pop out her skull and wander around on their own) the girls call a conference in the kitchen, partly to remind those watching (you know the ones with low attention spans) that they killed her sister but mainly to showcase Rumor Willis' fantastic ability to cry on cue whilst still pointing her milky white breasts at the camera.

Which turns out to be a good thing because then you don't have to look at her face.

Deciding that the excitement of the day is causing them to be over-sensitive, the girls vow to kick back and enjoy themselves but at that very moment everyone's mobile phone begins to ring.

Well, everyone in the room I mean, not worldwide that would be too spooky.

Tho' at that point I did get a text message from a friend wanting to borrow Sadomaster. Not related but considerably more interesting than the movie so far.

Answering their phones our teen temptresses are shocked to see that someone (or something....nah, scratch that, it's someone) has sent them a picture of the tire iron used to kill Megan.

Someone knows what they did last, um, semester and is planning revenge.

But who?

Could it be the by now loony tunes Garrett?

Is Megan still alive?

Or has someone else found out the girls secret?

Well, at least we know that Cassidy's normal and not mental Beau will have nothing to do with it.

But the girls are living on borrowed time because within minutes of the texts someone has taken to running around in long black college robes, shoving wine bottles down folks throats and throwing modified tire irons at various cast members with unnerving accuracy.


"Eyes hen!"


The original 1983 version of House on Sorority Row is a nice little revenge thriller with a neat(ish) twist that's by no means the worst slasher ever made but as far as re-imaginings go Hollywood must be scraping at the bottom of the horror barrel with it's broken, dirtied fingernails if it thinks that what the world needed was a big budget remake of it.

But remake they did and surprisingly it's not that bad.

Well, apart from the final twenty minutes where the whole damn thing falls apart and melts into a cheaply made porridge of over-acting and wild eyed lunacy.

Short film director (and director of short films) and ex member of Blue by the look of him Stewart Hendler builds on the atmospherics and (unintentional) hysterics that he began in his first major feature, 2007's Josh (Lost) Holloway starring heist/kidnap/devil child hybrid Whisper and certainly has an eye for murder set pieces with the black gloved, Giallo inspired killer using everyday items like wine bottles, Jacuzzi's as well as a custom made, multi-bladed tire iron to dispatch members of the teen cast.

Which frankly is why you're watching in the first place.



Duncan from Blue,
up the casino, 1989....yesch!



A huge surprise tho' are the amount of references to the 1983 version to be found within the script (I'll give you "I'm a sea pig!" but you can find the rest yourself) which frighteningly for a slasher remake kinda hints that the writers Josh Stolberg and Pete Goldfinger must be fans of the original.

Or at least seen it once whilst scribbling away in a kiddies notebook.

Sexy, bitchy and stylishly shot, in the end Sorority Row is ultimately as vapid and transparent as it's lead characters, so like poor old Chugs in the movie worth fiddling about with for an hour or so on a drunken Saturday night but there's no way I'd take it home to meet my folks.



something for a weak end?

Dodgy VHS find of the week.



How could it fail to deliver?

Thursday, January 21, 2010

hess is more.



Good news for fans of 'the films' north of the border as the spooky and ooky Jekyll & Hyde bar (112 Hanover St Edinburgh) along with Cult Fiction Movies have announced an evening in the company of the legendary horror badman and guitar twirling recording star Sir David of Hess, star of Wes Craven's The Last House on the Left and the magnificent Swamp Thing.




Taking place on Sunday 14th March (from now on known as David Day) from 6pm onwards this is your chance to eat, drink and share a chat or two with the Hess-master himself (tho' the chances of him taking you out into the streets to kidnap and murder a couple of teens is pretty low) so get your tickets NOW.

Well I say now but read the rest of the blog first obviously, I've just added some new stuff.

If that wasn't enough to stir your loins then the fact that badboy Johnny himself, the legend that is Giovanni Lombardo Radice (Cannibal Ferox, House By The Edge Of The Park, City of The Living Dead and Cannibal Apocalypse) will also be in attendance should send you into urine soaked fits of schoolgirl like excitement.




And breath.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

people you fancy but shouldn't (part 16).

From beast-based kiddie flick G-Force, sexy martial artist Juarez.


It's kinda unfortunate for Penelope Cruz that this is the sexiest she's ever looked.