Tuesday, October 11, 2016

the entrance of uranus.

Day 11 of 31 days of horror.


Let's see who breaks first shall we?

The Red Monks (1988).
Dir: Gianni Martucci.
Cast: Gerardo Amato, Lara Wendel (meow), Malisa Longo, Chuck Valenti, Claudio Pacifico, Mary Maxwell, Gaetano Russo and Ludovico Della Jojo.




The Garlini family are one of those unlucky enough - but quite common according to Eurotrash cinema - to have some kinda curse that gets visited on generation after generation.

Unlike most movie curses which seem to involve Werewolves or hidden torture chambers the Garlini one appears to concern a violin playing old woman and a nude, turban headed lady with a predilection for jogging.

 Takes all sorts I guess.

With that out of the way we can get on with the film good and proper, focussing our attentions on a groovy young fella-my-lad about town (in a snazzy Burton's suit) has just noticed the naked lady running around his garden and decides to call out to her (as you would), being a typical woman she ignores his cries and heads into his house.

Result.

Following her indoors and down into the house's sprawling basement the nameless bloke finds this dusky beauty standing with her back to him giving him plenty of time to take in her curves whilst admiring her hairy back and ample arse.

But before you can say 'up the casino' the mysterious Miss slowly turns around and with sword in hand beheads the poor sod.

Ouch.

A lady reading a newspaper in an extremely natural way yesterday.



Worried that the confusion and strangeness of the scene may caused our tiny minds to explode a scary voiceover man suddenly breaks the silence and whilst sexily intoning "fifty years earlier" snaps us back to reality.

Which comes as a blessed relief for us mere mortals after experiencing so much terror so early in the proceedings.

Luckily we're still in the grounds of the house so it's not too much of a challenge to figure out what's happening plus we still have a hunky man in the garden, only this time he has a name.

And quite a hunky physique.

Ladies and gentlemen (especially ladies) please be upstanding for 'Big' Bob Garlini (Disperatamente Giulia's Amato) who is busy tending to the rose bushes when he comes across (not in that way) a foxy lady - dressed as a dinner lady for reasons only known to the director - stuck up a tree being barked at by his hairy dog.

Which in itself is a bit bizarre because the woman in question is played by Lara Wendel, who also gets snapped at by a big dog in Dario Argento's Tenebrae.

Wendel: In bed with me dinner (lady).


Being hunky and spunky Bob convinces Ramona (for that is her name) to jump out of the tree and into his manly arms just before the rubber joke shop spider that's glued to one of the branches 'bites' her.

As she falls into his arms their eyes meet and it's love at first sight.

Whirlwind romance and marriage follow, which would be all well and good if not for Bob's dark secret.

And you'll never guess what it is.

Tho' the clue is in the films title.

Yup, that's right, Bob has a cellar chock full of spooky red monks intent on having his new bride sacrificed to them within four days.

But that's not all because for the sacrifice to work she has to remain a virgin.

Now how's he gonna explain this to his nan?

As you would expect, this puts a wee bit of pressure on the poor guy on his wedding night, forcing him to leave Ramona lying spreadeagled on the bed with a look of saucy intent in her eyes whilst he paces around the garden in a housecoat.

Poor Ramona ends up spending the night propped up in bed reading Take A Break magazine whilst scoffing chocolates all the time wondering if she should have just jumped out the tree and let the dog have her.

Which, if I'm honest would probably have been quite an interesting scene.

From an artistic viewpoint obviously.

To make matters worse, the next morning Bob is called away to an 'important business meetings' leaving his grumpier by the minute bride sitting at home getting the piss taken out of her by the housekeeper.


Your mum gets ready for parents night. And you wondered why your grades were so good.


It's not all bad tho' for Ramona's raven haired, dark eyed Lucille (genre goddess Longo from oooohhhh loads of stuff including your granddad's bed) quickly strikes up a friendship with her, entertaining the new Mrs. Garlini with tours of the scary cellar to check out the handy guillotine kept hidden in there.

Deciding that spending her evenings skulking about in dank cellars is way more fun than watching the shopping channel whilst eating crisps, Ramona begins to enjoy her time searching the basement for goodies to sell at carboot sales so it's not too much of a surprise when one day after moving a particularly dusty commode that she finally comes across the red monks busily (and quite quietly) going about their basement based business.

Which would be freaky enough if she didn't suddenly wake up in bed half way thru' the chat.

Is she going mental?

Well her hubbie and housekeeper seem set on trying to convince her so.

Me? I just think she's a typical woman.

Hel-Met.

Lucille, being cool and full of girl power and sisterly love is having none of it tho' and tells Ramona that she did indeed go into the cellar that evening and that she isn't in fact going loopy after all.

Phew, that's OK then.

Luckily everything seems to be back to normal the next day - well, if you forget about the monks, the plot to send Ramona mad and think that the fact that her hubbie keeps eying up the housemaid is normal - so our lovebirds decide to enjoy a picnic in the garden, this romantic notion is oh so slightly spoiled however when Lucille's severed head pops out of the picnic hamper during the cheese selection.

Trying to make the best of a bad situation, Ramona reckons a wee bit of painting may calm her nerves, but would you credit it, that darned spider is back on the loose.

Wendel: Womanly perfection personified.

As if by magic (or perhaps because Wendel hasn't got her kit off yet) the arachnid attack is rudely interrupted by an unhealthily thin bloke with a stringy ponytail who gingerly swats the spider to one side before having some of 'the sex' with our heroine.

Fairly annoyed to begin with (he keeps dipping his cock in her watercolours) Ramona finally gets into the groove as the youngsters say, hoisting up her dress and and going with the - sweetly sticky - flow.

I say flow but it's more of a sticky, gooey mess if I'm honest.

After a few minutes (I'm being kind) of fiddly fun the mysterious stranger wipes his cock on Ramona's canvas and stands up. Not to be outdone in the romantic stakes our horny heroine quickly pops her pants in her pocket before arranging to meet the leathery Lothario for drinks in a local bar later that night.

Result.

Day soon turns to night and Ramona excitedly travels to the local pub for a pint, a plate of scampi and some excited chat.

But our horny hairy-man has a surprise for Ramona and after a few bags of pork scratchings and a bottle of house wine takes her to visit a stinky tramp with a comedy stick on beard.

But why? I hear you cry.

Well it appears that only he knows the full gory story of her hubbies house.

As Friends star Jennifer Aniston once said, pay attention, here's the science part.

Aniston: Five fingers, never touched the sides.

Coughing up a tasty bit of black lung the old man seductively whispers thru' his fishy beard "...it all began in the year 1426..." prompting the screen to go all wibbly wobbly (trackings dodgy mate) before coming to focus on a pointy chinned man in tights drinking cheap wine.

Lord Lloyd Lodorisio (for that is he), being rich and bored spends his days hanging around with that group of red hooded monks from earlier getting into all kinds of scrapes, setting fire to phone boxes, making prank calls, graffiti-ing walls and the like much to the chagrin of the local populace.

He may sound an utter arse but at least he draws the line at fucking dead pigs mouths unlike some folk we could mention preferring to pop his cock in random gypsy wenches he finds wandering about on his land.

Fair play to him.

The local church, understandably annoyed by all these unholy shenanigans decide to send a mysterious, black masked assassin to kill Lodorisio.

As you would in those circumstances.

"Is it in yet?"


After a - very slow - primary school style sword fight, the assassin ends up with the Lord's long blade wobbling scarily at his mouth (OK it's at his throat but that doesn't sound as rude), dropping to his knees and begs for mercy whilst the loopy Lorde stands astride him laughing like a loon.

Just as all seems lost Mr. Assassin sees his chance and sticks Lodorisio with his poisoned ring before tossing him off (the balcony) and hitting him repeatedly with a mace for good measure.

Ouch.

As was the law in the olden days, the assassin inherits not only Lord Lodorisio's lands but his sultry gypsy wife too, unfortunately tho' before he can drag her off to the bedroom she lays down a curse on him - and his descendants - forever.

Blimey.

If this wasn't a big enough revelation in itself (it's like 20 Christmas day episodes of EastEnders at once) it turns out that Ramona is apparently a descendant of that very same gypsy and it is her destiny to have revenge on Bob.

Taking it all in her stride (but not alas up the arse - we can but dream) she buys a sword from a local armorer and heads back home....

Bob in a monk house yesterday.


Will she behead her hubbie?

Will the fabled red monks do anything but stand about?

Who beheaded Lucille?

Is Ramona a ghost?

And why is Bob shagging the housekeeper when the cast includes both Wendel and Longo?

Is he mad?

One of these questions may be answered by the movies end.

Possibly.

"I Frati Rossi? All talkin' Scotch ain't they?"


From director/writer Gianni (Naked Girl Killed in the Park) Martucci comes this (very) loose remake of the Mario Bava classic Lisa And The Devil but minus that films suspense shocks and thrills obviously.

Well he had to find some way of making it different didn't he?





Longo: saucepot.

Produced by genre genius Lucio Fulci (whom I'm sure had a hand in casting showing the pedigree of the Eurohorror talent on screen) alongside an obviously feverish Pino Buricchi (the man who gave us Intimate Crimes and Cindy's Love Games amongst other gems), The Red Monks maybe be at times tedious with plot holes so big that you could comfortably reverse Eamon Holmes thru' without touching the sides but the classy cast and kooky creepiness ultimately win the viewer over.

Plus whenever you're feeling like ending it all rather than sit thru' another second of dodgily dubbed doomsaying, a pair of 70's breasts pop out of nowhere or a head rolls out of a hamper and suddenly you're transfixed again.

And before you know it you're hooked worse than your mum on the paperboys cock.

Recommended.

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