fall out boy.

Day 22 of the whole sorry 31 Days of Horror thing and we're off to Russia for a well deserved holiday.

Or is that horrorday?

Or just utter shiteday?

Sorry that doesn't make any sense but if the film maker can't be bothered why should i?

 

Anyway what with the war and everything this seemed quite topical and may get more more readers of an educated - and political correct - variety.

Because that always works out well.


Chernobyl Diaries (2012).
Dir: Bradley Parker.
Cast: Jesse McCartney, Jonathan Sadowski, Devin Kelley, Olivia Taylor Dudley, Nathan Phillips, the wonderful Ingrid Bolsø Berdal and Dimitri Diatchenko.

Have you heard of extreme tourism?

Vacant faced American nice guy Chris (McCartney, the voice of Theodore in the Alvin and The Chipmunks movies - seriously I couldn't make this shit up), his terrifyingly breasted girlfriend Natalie (Chillerama's Dudley but not the town alas) and their plain (as in not blonde and with natural boobs) friend Amanda (Kelley from teevee's Covert Affairs) are enjoying a summer break traveling thru' Europe which, as all our American readers will know is a small country near London,  just outside Paris, France and ruled by Queen Angela Dorothea Merkel II of Englandshire.

That's the geography out of the way so let's crack on with the plot.

Quickly taking in the sights during the credit sequence (because we all know there are only about six things of interest to see in Europe) our merry band decide to stop for a few days in Kiev, (that'll be the Ukraine fact fans) in order to visit Chris's bad boy brother, Paul (Sh#t My Dad Says' Sadowski) before carrying on to Moscow where Chris intends to propose to Natalie atop the Eiffel Tower.

Aaaah how romantic.

Anyway, after a night on the town to show how wacky 'n' cool they all are Paul suggests that to make the holiday (sorry 'vacation') one to remember they should all sign up for one of local sexy man Yuri's (the fantastic Diatchenko) extreme tours.

Seeing as the Urban Exploring one has sold out and the Hitman tournament isn't for another year or so our cool dudes and dudettes decide to take a day trip to the abandoned town of Prypiat which sits in the scary - and oh so slightly radioactive - shadow of Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant.

Nothing like milking a real-life human tragedy for entertainment is there?

Prypiat: A local town for local people.

Also joining our funky foursome are the comedy accented Norwegian Zoe (Hellfjord's bowl haired babe Bolsø Berdal who's obviously been kidnapped and forced to make this against her will) and her swoonsome (and unwashed) Australian beau' Michael (Phillips from Wolf Creek).

Things don't start too well tho' when not long after starting on their adventure, Yuri's van is refused entry into the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone checkpoint due to what the guards explain are 'secret manoeuvres' but not even the might of the Russian army is going to stop Yuri showing his clients a good time.

Or even a giant mutant rubber fish or two.

Heading back toward town, our dishy driver takes a sneaky shortcut thru' the woods and within no time at all (look it only runs at an hour and twenty five minutes - be thankful for small mercies) the group arrive at the abandoned city which, if I'm honest looks spookily like Glasgow city centre on a Sunday morning.

But with fewer burned out buildings obviously.

They may be all shits and giggles now but just wait till the radioactive buggery starts...

After an afternoon visiting deserted schools, rundown fairgrounds and moldy chip shops Yuri decides to take our merry band to see the highlight of the tour, the upper floor of an abandoned block of flats from where they can view the infamous Chernobyl arc reactor (number 4).

And get chased by a CGI bear.

Preparing to leave the site, Yuri is fairly upset to discover that the wires in his van appear to have been chewed on by someone mistaking them for liquorice  and that his radio wont work.

By that I mean his two-way radio not the one tuned to T.A.T.u. FM.

Remember them?

 

Lena Katina at home yesterday.

 

As night falls and the sweet sounds of those risque Russian rude girls fades into the distance our backpacking band are sure that they can hear strange noises in the distance, Yuri is convinced that it's a pack of wild dogs joining in the chorus of All The Things She Said but the others aren't convinced.

It's more tuneful for one thing.

Being manly types (and possibly hoping the band themselves are outside) Yuri, armed with his trusty potato gun alongside Chris go out to investigate.

A load more Russian arse yesterday.

Shots and screams are heard causing Paul to man up and attempt a rescue, only to return seconds later with a whimpering simpering Chris.

It appears that the poor boy has had his leg bitten by an unknown assailant.

Or one of the aforementioned creatures.

The canine type that is not Lena Katina or Yulia Volkova obviously.

Tho' let's be honest the thought of being bitten by Lena Katina - especially in the passenger seat of a canary yellow Volkswagen Passat parked in an Asda carpark after a kebab and a can of Irn Bru - is something we can only dream of.

But I digress.

Lena Katina - Volkswagen Passat not shown.

 

Anyway the next morning - in an attempt to get away from Chris' near constant moaning - Paul, Michael and Amanda decide to go looking for Yuri, following  a handy trail of blood to a creepy underground shopping centre where they soon come across what remains of their jolly driver.

And with Yuri gone the group have lost their only means of escape.

Plus the movie has lost it's only believable and likeable character.

Frankly they're fucked.

Beware! Yuri's van is NOT full of sweets.

Returning quickly to the van, our tiresome trio plan to hike to the nearest checkpoint for help.

Natalie not content with letting her boyfriend be the groups whiny bitch starts crying and pleading them to take Chris along but one glimpse of her slapped arse of a face convinces the others to leave the pair behind.

Which is probably the best decision that anyone involved has ever made up to this point.

"Put it in me!"

Making it as far as the car park the group are lucky enough to find the spares they need for Yuri's van as well as a bullet riddled bus with a couple of torches in the glove box and a bloody uniform stuck to the seat.

Stealing the torches (but obviously leaving the uniform) our heroes decide to head back and repair the van only to end up getting chased by a couple of angry dogs meaning that the 10 minute walk back to Chris and Natalie ends up taking about 16 hours.

And that doesn't even include the precious minutes wasted when Michael falls into a small pond and is attacked by a fish.

Finally returning to the van, everyone is (fairly) shocked to find it smashed into tiny metal pieces and lying on it's roof (see? I told you it was like Glasgow), within the wreckage is Natalie's video camera which reveals that she and Chris were attacked by a group of ball headed, shaggy haired, eczema covered tramps.

But alas there's absolutely no footage of her jumping around with her tits out.

C'mon, I mean what kind of home movie is this?

Natalie farted and it smelled of shame. And eggs.

Paul, coming over all heroic (tho' not over Michael’s scraggy beard unfortunately) decides to mount a rescue party but only succeed in waking up even more tramps convincing our luckless band to beat a hasty retreat.

Poor Natalie meanwhile spends these tension packed minutes getting rescued then recaptured whilst everyone else points torches at various small children that appear and disappear without warning.

As this exciting* game of cat and mouse races toward it's conclusion our mud soaked pals are whittled away one by one, first Michael is dragged away by his skinny beard and then poor underwritten Zoe is tossed off a ladder, leaving
Paul and Amanda to navigate a series of ever more twisty passages finally emerging into the Chernobyl power plant itself.

Which is a wee bit unlucky seeing as the place is more radioactive than one of Godzilla's stools.

Godzilla's poo: Liable to burn your eyebrows off.

This becomes obvious when both Paul and Amanda’s faces start melting, which frankly is much better than their up to now dirt and tear smeared look.

As they make their way hurriedly to the exit the pair stumble upon Natalie's prone corpse propping open a door like a drunk teenager on a Saturday night binge (tho' to be fair her pants aren't round her ankles) and after stumbling past her and out out into the moonlight find themselves surrounded by a gaggle of Russian military personnel.

Are our terrified twosome safe?

Will their unsightly skin rashes ever clear up?

Or will we be subjected to the final indignity of a sub-par Twilight Zone ending where Amanda, having seen too much is locked up in a room full of big faced mutants forever?

Go on, guess.

Imagine if you will a world where a group of European film makers decided to make a horror movie based around the 9/11 attacks, where a group of tourists visiting Ground Zero are attacked and killed by a band of survivors who, after being trapped underground for ten years have mutated into cannibalistic mutants.

Or one where a group of inbred Holocaust survivors, living in the tunnels under Auschwitz since the end of the war, systematically stalk and slash a group of teens because the all have blond hair?**

Too sick? 

Too crass?

Not if you're Oren Peli, creator of the bizarrely popular Paranormal Activity series of movies, which after an admittedly enjoyable first film descended into even more and more ludicrous inbred sub-plotting set in ever increasingly sized houses.

Proof if any is needed that you can indeed flog an increasingly decomposing horse.

As for Chernobyl Diaries, surely someones taste monitor should have started bleeping the minute the title was mentioned.

Either that or you have the courage of your convictions name it "Attack of The Funny Foreign Cancer Sufferers" and be done with it.

Or did they just think no-one would remember the disaster?

OK Mr. Peli, I dare you to make a movie of this next.

Maybe, just maybe if it were any good it could be forgiven for such a lapse in taste but frankly it's not and it can't.

Tho' Peli, being a cutting edge and confrontational kinda guy must think that there are no boundaries when it comes to entertainment, so if any readers know  of any personal tragedies he or his family have been thru' feel free to get in touch and maybe we can make a movie about that.

He obviously wont mind.









































*that's irony by the way.

** Actually scratch that one, it pretty much like a pitch Oren Peli may have already made.