Sunday, May 28, 2017

lollywood babylon.

Been a wee bit busy working to pop up many mooth-shite in movie reviews recently so as recompense here are a few frankly fantastic film posters from  Pakistan - the city of Lahore to be precise.

Enjoy!











I'll stop know in case you begin to mistake this for a well researched and educational film blog.

sausage fingers.

Got a huge pile (ooeer) of brand spanking new movies to watch here at Unwell Towers so have spent days (well hours) pouring over what to watch first.

Unfortunately my ASD and fear of all things new kicked in so to calm myself down I ended up picking this old favourite.

Enjoy.

The Wax Mask (AKA M.D.C. - Maschera di cera, Gaston Leroux's The Wax Mask. 1997).
Dir: Sergio Stivaletti.
Cast: Robert Hossien, Romina Mondello, Riccardo Serventi Longhi, Daniele Auber, Umberto Balli, Gianni Franco and Gabriella Giorgelli.


It's the romantic city of Paris in the year 1900 and a portly, middle aged couple have just been bludgeoned to death in their beds by a cloaked, top-hatted fella with a groovy metal hand.

There are limbs and various bodily parts everywhere and the sheets are ruined leaving the local police at a loss as to who or what could have done such a thing.

Well after a few minutes heated discussion they all agree that it definitely wasn't the wee girl they found hiding under the bed.

Pretty good job they weren't Filipino police really seeing as they'd have probably beaten the shite out of her then confiscated her teddy bear as a weapon before throwing the poor sod out of a helicopter.

Shite in mah.....well shite everywhere really.


Jumping from blood stained sheets to semen stained slappers it's now twelve years later and we're in a brothel in Rome (not in reality that would be too much to ask), where the besuited and bookish boys are enjoying the company of the prettiest (and cleanest looking) whores this side of Pretty Woman.

Or the presenters of Channel 5's Milkshake.

Between the shagging and drinking of tea the conversation turns to a brand new wax museum that's soon to open across town, no-one has seen it yet but rumour has it that the place is frankly terrifying with the most realistic sculptures ever.

Everyone reckons that it could it the scariest waxworks ever (yes, even scarier than this one) and it's not long before the weaselly Terry McBeardo has accepted a £5 bet to spend the night in the place.

Waved off (and no doubt wracked off) by his favourite and particularly bouncy blonde prostitute (imagine a rouge lipped, corseted, bad AIDS ridden and even more council estate scum Baby Spice and you're partway there) he heads inside to find a quiet place to sleep between the spooky wax figures.

Wandering between the exhibits he comes across a door leading to a basement room and being a nosy bugger heads down to investigate.

Bad move seeing as the place is full of bottled babies, body parts and jars labeled 'bad things'.

Oh and a spooky hooded man busy working away on something not nice.

The sight is so horrific that poor Terry can't help poohing himself a little bit, the smell of which attracts the attentions of the aforementioned hooded man who gives chase, easily catching the by now whiffy fella and killing him dead.

Yes, dead.

"Is that a leaky biro in your pocket
or have you cum in your pants?"


Investigating Terry's disappearance and being quite well known in the local brothels, the police end up at the waxwork and soon find Terry's shite stained body curled up in a corner just behind the Brad and Angelina tableaux.

Due to the smell the coroner decides that he died of fear.

Enter Boris Volkoff (well as played by the very old yet still very sexy Hossein you'd not think twice), the owner of the waxwork who, of course knows nothing about the aforementioned death.

Aye right.

Tis the next morning and young, fresh faced wannabe fashion designer Sonia Lafont (the Asia Argento like - just slightly less sleazy - Mondello) has applied for a job making costumes at the wax museum but Alex (Balli from the cult Bobby Rhodes starrer Tre), Volkoff's lanky, pretty lipped and pudding bowled assistant despises her hairstyle and attempts to send her home.

Boris on the other (non metal) hand finds young Sonia fascinating and hires her on the spot.

Well I say on the spot but he actually offers her the job in his office but you get the gist.

This is the first bit of good fortune Sonia has had in years seeing as her parents were butchered by a madman and that she's had to spend the last twelve years living with her vastly overweight and blind auntie Francesca (cinema legend and ex-model for the Sadistik photo-comic Giorgelli) .

But wait!

Does this mean that she's the wee girl from the start of the film?

And more importantly is it still OK to fancy her?

Mondello: You would.


Leaving the waxwork museum with a spring in her step and a heaving bosom Sonia is startled by the young news pup Andrea Conversi (Longhi, star of I tre volti del terrore and some other stuff) sneakily taking photo's of her.

After first wanting to slap him, Andrea's smooth movies and easy good looks soon have her, if not eating out of his hand at least knobbing him for a promise of a McDonalds and a movie.

Result.

But seeing as we're in an Italian horror movie it's no surprise that whilst all this mushy (and fairly sticky) stuff is going down, the mad bloke with the cloak, top hat and metal hand is skulking about the local parks buying a wee urchin's candy floss before sticking a huge syringe into his neck, stripping him down to his undies and filling him with warm sickly liquids.

Too late Noel Edmonds discovered he'd
left his special wanking hand on the shelf.


Whilst all these murders are going on, Andrea comes to the conclusion that they may be related in some way to the wax museum.

Sonia on the other (metallic this time) hand is too busy to care seeing as she's being romantically pursued by Boris (who gives her a really classy pearl necklace) as well as wondering if the metal hand murders could be in any way related to her parents deaths.

Hmmmmm......a hard one that.

Meanwhile that blonde whore from earlier is kidnapped, stripped to a pair of (leather) undies and injected with stuff before being placed in a display featuring Jack The Ripper.

As a whore.

Oh the irony.

"Laugh now!"


Andrea with his patented sweet talking and even sweeter cock (possibly), manages to 'talk' Sonia into letting him into the wax museum after hours to take pictures of the exhibits before heading off for tea at Aunt Francesca's house.

The conversation turns to Sonia's childhood and Francesca tells the sad story of Sonia's mother, Gayle who was unhappily married to a weird bloke named Boris who did bad things with candles.

Finding solace in the arms of a nice (non mental) man named Victor, Gayle began a torrid affair but as is the way in these things, Boris caught them red handed (and sore arsed).

Being slightly upset at finding his wife spread eagled across the bed like a common strumpet Boris leapt at Victor and some serious bitch-slapping ensued culminating with Boris falling arse over tit into a huge vat of boiling hot wax that just happened to be bubbling away in the living room.

Ouch.

The patented Abi Titmus mooth shite-in chair,
only £19.99 from Paliwank industries.


Andrea begins to suspect that Sonia's dad maybe the same Boris that now runs the wax museum and heads back to over there, leaving Sonia just enough time to get herself kidnapped and threatened with being fed to some hungry pigs.

Rescued by Boris before any hot pig on pretty lady action can take place (booo!) Sonia is taken to the museum (rather than being taken up the casino which is what Boris would rather do, you can tell by the look in his eyes), dragged down to the secret laboratory and stripped and forced into another pair of leather undies (I hope they're clean) ready for embalming.

Mondello: Any excuse.


But don't fear (oh go on then, fear a wee bit) because the ultimate crime solving force of Andrea and the blind Francesca are hot on Boris' trail and determined to rescue our sweaty and trussed up like a turkey heroine.

Will they find Sonia before her dad fills her with his special liquid?

Will there be any more unnecessary close-ups of her glistening breasts?

And will a giant, steam powered Terminator style robot turn up for no reason?



Co-written by the late, great Lucio Fulci and the hardly ever late but still great Dario Argento with effects genius Sergio Stivaletti behind the camera how could a movie like Wax Mask fail to entertain?

Throwing caution, logic and budgetary constraints to the wind (but keeping hold of those handy red filters), Stivaletti has crafted a stylishly saucy slice of pure cinematic gold that's as cheesy as it is chilling, tho' whether the cheesiness is intentional is up for debate.

I for one don't care when a movie is as enjoyable as this.

Often cruelly slated by 'proper' fans of the genre, there's lots to love about Wax Mask if you're willing to let yourself go with the flow, not least the wonderful production values, the vivid deep colours, the lush score and lastly but by no means least, the yummy Romina Mondello strapped to a steampunk style operating table wearing nowt but some leather briefs and a layer of shimmering sweat.

Even the cack handed dubbing (the worst I've ever heard) courtesy of distributors Film 2000 can't detract from the movie's overall greatest, if anything it adds another unique dimension to the proceedings, as if the dialogue was being presented thru' some kind of bio-mechanical drunken trumpet.

And there aren't many films you can say that about.

Apart from the bizarro sound mix used on the Warner two disc release of the Peter Cushing Dalek movies back in the early nineties.

At once a celebration of the best (and worse) excesses of Italian horror cinema, Wax Mask deserves to be re-evaluated and smothered with the love, attention and sticky kisses it so richly deserves.

Do it now.

Monday, May 15, 2017

disturbing knitting pattern of the month.

Enjoy.


Tuesday, May 9, 2017

destination: penetration.

Been a wee bit busy with work recently (a bit shit I know but the kids crack habit isn't going to feed itself*) hence the lack of meaningful updates.

Tho' I did come across (quite literally) these amusingly monikered books whilst surfing the interweb.

Enjoy.

































*To all those of you who feel the urge to report my blog for every single tiny thing I type can I just point out that THIS IS A JOKE. 










They're addicted to crystal meth obviously.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

people you fancy but shouldn't (part 71).


Regular Show's uber BiLF Margaret Smith.

Sorry.









Friday, April 21, 2017

tapehead.

If, like me you're one of those people that whilst watching that 'classic' anthology movie VHS (and it's sequel) thought to themselves "This would be so much better if it was even cheaper made." then your luck is in.

The Dark Tapes (2017).
Dir: Vincent J. Gustini and Michael McQuown.
Cast: Emilia Ares Zoryan, Shawn Lockie, Danielle Baez, Brittany Underwood, Anna Rose Moore, Cortney Palm, Stephen Zimpel, David Hull, Matt Magnusson, Jake O’Connor, Katherine Shaw, Shane Hartline, Katelyn Bailey, Dave Rountree and David Banks (but not that one).


“Humanity is getting closer to the truth, … to us. We won’t let that happen.”



Welcome to the wacky world - AKA Dark Tape 1 To Catch a Demon - of Martin Callahan (Blur drummer Rountree possibly), a physics professor researching trans-dimensional entities out of a scout hut near the directors house.

These entities have been around for donkey's years and - according to his work - are usually explained away as night terrors.

Or cheeky wolves.

Possibly.

Alongside his tiny-faced assistant Nicole (Palm from Zombeavers) and hunky cameraman  Jason (Magnusson, son of Mastermind host Magnus), Martin is about to prove the creatures existence via the use of a collection of disco lights, an old washing machine, his mum's colander and Jason’s high speed, super slow motion video camera.

Plus a shedload of natty pseudoscience obviously.

Pseudoscience it has to be said that scarily makes sense.

Sort of.

Your dad filming you as you sleep earlier this month....this is how he pays for all those golfing trips.


You see Martin reckons that these entities exist within their own time stream which runs considerably slower than our own meaning that they would have to stand still for up to 3 hours for us to notice them.

And then only for a second or so.

Being a clever bastard, Martin has built a contraption that brings the two time streams into synchronization which will allow Jason to film them.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well we'll have to wait and see because in a flurry of static we're dropped into the ominously monikered Dark Tape 2 – The Hunters and the Hunted where we're introduced to the frighteningly square jawed David (Zimpel) who is busy filming his lovely wife Karen’s (Lockie) reactions to their newly acquired dream house.

Bless.

The post-Brexit Kraftwerk lightshow left a lot to be desired.


Being a horror movie - and an anthology one at that - things soon go awry.

There are strange bangings and groanings coming from the pantry and eggy smells in the bathroom, luckily the pair manage to capture this spookily supernatural stuff on video, calling in a team of paranormal investigators to investigate.

With terrifying results....

Next up is Dark Tape 3 – Cam Girls” which tells the spooky (and mildly sexy - if you like that kind of thing) story of Caitlin (Zoryan), the ex-Christian cum chick kissing saucepot who has recently moving in with her lover Sindy (Moore), a harsh faced cam-whore with eyebrows so arched you could actually swing from them.

Which would probably be a darn sight more entertaining than this segment if I'm honest.

Slightly cruel yes but true.

Megan Fox licking piss off John Nettles yesterday.

In between performing sex acts for paying punters whilst experiencing the love that dare not mention its name, Caitlin has also been experiencing periodic blackouts, often waking to find that she's been captured on video doing things she can’t remember.

Nor, in fact,  imagine herself doing.

Acting in a natural manner for one thing.

Calling her old friend, the medical student Eric (Hartline) for his perspective - and it has to be said to have someone onscreen with even less charisma than the two leads (which is a tall order), she's disappointed when he blames her problems on too much booze and bad drugs.

Which seems fair enough.

Making her excuses ("I better head now cos I'm a mad lesbian!") Caitlin and Sindy get set for their next sex show but Sindy has a favour to ask.

She wants Caitlin to get one lucky punter to self harm on camera.

Fair enough.

"Laugh now!"



“Dark Tape 4 – Amanda’s Revenge” tells the tale of student Amanda (Underwood) who after having a few drinks at an end of term party is drugged up and dragged off by some bad boys who want to see her underwear.

Rescued by her three best pals before things get R rated, the trio – lovelorn Ryan
(O’Connor), Ashley (Katherine Shaw not to be confused with Shaw Catherine, the jewelers located at 31 Argyll Arcade, City Centre, Glasgow G2 8BA) and Josh (Hull, son of Rod) – decide that it'd be wise to record her when she wakes up in case they can use it as evidence when they call the police.

Or at the very least get £250 from You've Been Framed.

Either way they're onto a winner.

Unlike Amanda who upon waking starts talking rubbish in a deep booming voice whilst making the house (OK the camera) shake violently.

Her friends help her back to bed but when she finally returns, she has no recollection of what happened the night before or even of the shaky camera stuff.

Bizarre and chilling too.

Over the next few months our heroine begins to confess to Ryan that strange things have been happening to her as she sleeps and she may be being abducted - and fiddled with - by strange creatures from beyond our dimension.

Well it's either that or she's been eating cheese before bed.

Or in bed.

She looks the type.

Insert cock here.


Then it's back to Martin and co. who are currently trapped in an episode of Sapphire and Steel whilst being menaced by what sounds like a computerized Barry White wearing a pound shop skeleton mask and a nappy.

It never rains eh?




From director Michael McQuown and make-up wizard Vincent J. Guastini (who did sterling work on Ellen Burstyn in Requiem for a Dream by the way as well as directing the wraparound) comes another lo-fi sci-fi tinged found footage flick thrown mercilessly into a fairly over-saturated market.

So does it sink or swim?

Well it just kinda bobs along and waves its arms around randomly if I'm honest.

I mean there are some pretty nice ideas on show (especially during the To Catch a Demon section) but unfortunately they're held back and almost drowned out by the utter awfulness of stuff like the Cam-Girls segment and a frightening amount of OpenShot video editor 'special' effects.

Which is kinda expected in these situations.

"Did you get me a Drifter?"


But back to the positives of which one is the aforementioned wraparound  - reminding me as it did of the utterly sublime Ink from a few years back (which if you haven't seen it go and do so now - it's pretty bloody amazing) which, if I'm honest could be a feature in itself.

Running thru' the entire movie To Catch a Demon has a nice set up and pay off (if a wee bit of an obvious one) with more than a hint of Lovecraft and Doctor Who thrown into the mix yet is ultimately frustrating as the mid-sections seem to consist more of people shouting at jump cuts than expanding the story tho' there's a pretty nifty kill that'll raise a smile at the cleverness of it.

I for one wanted more mythos and less loudness.

Plus Cortney Palm looked lovely in her baggy jumper, a fashion item that - alongside woolly tights and sensible cardigans aren't featured enough in mainstream horror.

But I digress.

A sensible cardie wearing lady of the type not often featured in genre movies.


The same can be said of “The Hunters and The Hunted”which plays the Paranormal Activity tropes for all that they're worth before beautifully pulling the rug from underneath the audience with a lovely twist.

The cast are great and it's self aware enough to give sly winks at the audience throughout it's short runtime.

Reminiscent in many ways of Patrick Brice's brilliant Creep this could easily be expanded upon.

Or at the very least it'd make a fucking brilliant BBC 1 prime time sitcom.

Socks.


Cam Girls on the other (free) hand is probably one of the most arse destroying things I've ever had the misfortune to sit thru'.

Which is a shame as Emilia Ares Zoryan (who looks for all the world like a young Phoebe Cates - ask your dad) does her best but is sabotaged at every opportunity by inane dialogue, suspense free plotting and being surrounded by the most wooden cast this side of Four Feather Falls.

Plus if you're promising a wee bit of gratuitous girl on girl action at least deliver some.

Even a knowing look or two will do.

I mean when Katherine Shaw 'seductively' looks at Zoryan I'm sure I could see her mentally going thru' her shopping list, her mysterious frown looking more like chronic constipation than carnal desires.

Trust me I know.


Emilia Ares Zoryan: pants on fire....or backwards.



Another great cast can't save “Amanda’s Revenge” from the curse of patchy pacing as this mix of Carrie and Mars Attacks! via the climax of A Nightmare On Elm Street has an interestingly bonkers premise mired by time constraints (again) and an overly earnest tone that seems at odds with the fantastical nature of the plot, which is a shame as Brittany Underwood is genuinely fantastic as the titular heroine of the piece ably aided by Jake O’Connor who gives a natural warmth to a role that could be cloying and a wee bit wet in less capable hands.

Much like David Rountree in the “Demon” segments the pair have a knack for delivering the at times overly explanatory dialogue with a natural flair that is at once convincing, plausible and interesting.

"Spice Girls number one for Christmas.....MONSTA!"


Neither as brain-searingly brilliant as the reviews say nor as arse-numbingly bad as I feared, The Dark Tapes (aptly) lies in that middle ground between genius of The Last Broadcast and the cinematic cesspit of Tape 407: The Mesa Experiment, ending up with more hits than misses - yet is ultimately frustrating as to what it could have been given more time and a bigger budget.

Or even any budget at all.

If you've lost your love for found footage then The Dark Tapes will do nothing to win you back but if you don't mind genuine frights, some clever ideas and filmic frustration in equal measures then give it a whirl, as whilst in no way a classic there's enough going on to make me intrigued as to what Gustini and McQuown attempt next.