happy halloween!

 

rowdy mole.

Had an email yesterday pointing out that there was far too little John Agar in this years 31 Days of Horror countdown.

Which is fair enough.

 

The Mole People (1956).
Dir: Virgil W. Vogel.
Cast:  John Agar, Cynthia Patrick, Hugh Beaumont, Alan Napier, Nestor Paiva, Phil Chambers, Rodd Redwing, Robin Hughes and Dr Frank Baxter.

"Archeologists are the underpaid publicity agents for deceased royalty."

Let's be honest, any film that opens with a video essay from the late, great American TV personality, educator and former professor of English at the University of Southern California Dr. Frank Baxter, has to be worth a look.

As regular readers (just regular readers in general, not of this blog obviously) will already know, Baxter was famous for his appearances as "Dr. Research" in the Bell System Science Series of television specials that ran from 1956–1962 becoming a staple of American classrooms right thru' to the 80s.

Which kinda explains a lot if you think about it.

With Baxter acting as a genial and affable host, the specials combined scientific footage, live action and animation to explain complicated concepts (like space travel, radiation and why you shouldn't elected tangerines to the office of President) in a lively, entertaining and simple way and to thousands of Americans young and old these programmes became the 'go to' for all science minded folk, making a star of its trusted host.

So when Baxter rocks up in the prologue to the film chatting about various hollow Earth myths and theories you have to sit up and listen, for what follows must be true.

And so must the film we're about to see.

Spooky.

Patrick Stewart shooting hoops with one of Mark Shannon's genital warts yesterday.

After what seems like hours of flipcharts and children's drawings we're into the movie good and proper with a title card that informs us that we're in Asia, although to be honest it looks like Egypt from the stock footage tho' the painted backdrops features snow covered mountains so we could actually be anywhere.

I'm going for South Wales.

Anyway, geography aside it's time to meet our heroes for the next 70 odd minutes and they are the dashing  Dr. Wes Bentley (Rhythm Ace and former Mr Shirley Temple, Agar) and the slightly less dashing  Dr. Paul Stuart (Chambers) who are busily digging up bits of stone whilst attempting to look intelligent.

And interested.

Suddenly one of the local workers appears with a stone tablet which Stuart notices is engraved in a language "not of these parts".

Bentley excitedly grabs the ancient artifact and, after blowing the dust away (which makes a change from blowing his agent for roles) announces that the text is Sumerian and tells the tale of a city that disappeared from the face from the Earth.

And with that the camera starts to shake whilst the actors pretend to be slightly concerned as the stone tablet falls to the ground and smashes into pieces.

Bloody hell how exciting is this?

"Is it in yet?"

As a new day breaks (fuck they're clumsy) Bentley and Stuart decide a conference is in order so invite Doctors Jud Bellamin (Beaumont) and Geordi Lafarge (Paiva) over for beer, crisps and a quick chat regarding the broken tabley before rounding the day off with a quick game of soggy biscuit.

LaFarge, as ever, wins.

As they're cleaning up a wee native boy approaches them carrying a bit of market tat cunningly disguised as an ancient artifact whilst motioning toward a crudely painted mountain.
"The mountain was the epicenter of the earthquake!" exclaims Dr. Stuart and with that our fabulous foursome decide to go and explore it.

Cue endless stock footage of snow-covered mountain climbing which I'm pretty sure is exactly the same as the stuff used in The Abominable Snowman.

No really, I'm gonna cut it all together and upload it so you can see for yourselves.

Probably.

After what seems like days of scratchy out of focus snow trudging our merry band finally arrive at the ruins of a Sumerian temple, cunningly disguised a an old set left over from a local pantomime, where Bentley is excited (some would say too excited) to find an old shop window dummy head lying in a pile of polystyrene snow.

"It's the goddess Ishtar!" he exclaims!

And as he does poor Dr. Stuart steps on a cracked bit of concrete and falls thru' a hole into a deep, dark chasm.

Obviously he has the team wallet as Bentley a co. decide to climb after him, giving the viewer the exciting prospect of watching the cast carefully tie ropes, hammer hooks into walls and slide down a spooky shaft all very, very slowly.

Seriously the scene seems to go on for days, the only relief being a long lingering shot of Hugh Beaumont gently easing a rope between his thighs.

One tearful wank and cold shower later and the group are finally at the bottom - tho' not rock bottom, not yet - and crouched over Stuart's corpse, riffling thru' his pockets for photos of his wife in the nude.

The sheer excitement of seeing something so hot raises the temperature in the cave causing the shaft to collapse leaving Bentley, Bellamin and Lafarge no other choice but to press on ever deeper into the dark tunnel ahead.

But as they do a sinister pair of clawed hands appear in the dirt behind them.

That's your Nan that is.

After much walking and waving a torch around he tunnel eventually opens into an underground cavern housing an entire city.

Or at least a painted approximation of one.

Which would probably be OK if the matte artist in question hadn't decided to illustrate the whole thing in really thick Sharpie.

You drew this.

Deciding that they've had enough adventuring for one day the tired time team lie down on the cavern floor to get some sleep.

As you do.

As the trio snore and fart away their troubles a group of the mysterious Mole People (I'm assuming) begins to dig their way up from the under the ground, popping canvas sacks over the shocked archeologists’ heads and dragging them kicking and screaming underground.

Tho' seeing as they're already underground surely that should be underground the underground?

Or more undergrounder?

John Agar is coming for tea? Aaah Lovely!

Waking in a makeshift dungeon resplendent with creepy cobwebs and hanging Halloween style skeleton decorations, Bentley, Bellamin and Lafarge sit around twiddling their thumbs and spouty psuedo-science bollocks till a wall opens and they're motioned to walk forward by a couple of visibly embarrassed extras covered in greasepaint and decked out in children's nativity costumes carrying plastic swords.

Sorry, I meant to type they're motioned to walk forward by a couple of scary  Sumerian warriors.

My bad.

The archeologists are escorted to an ancient - is there any other kind? -  Sumerian temple where a mysterious ceremony, which seems to involve Elinu, the high priest (Alfred the butler himself, Napier looking visibly embarrassed even under a 6 inch layer of white face) shaking a giant cardboard Star Trek badge at a group of 'sexy' dancers, is taking place.

It appears that this is the dance of Ishtar.

Fair enough.

Concluding the ceremony Elinu approaches King Rollo (you can tell he's the king because he appears to be wearing a cardboard hedgehog on his head) and announces that there are 'intruders among them!"

Tho' to be honest from the look of them I'd be less worried about intruders and more concerned about latent arse banditry.

The fucking state of this.

Eyeing them up (and down) with a suspicious gaze the King stands erect and regal before pronouncing that the archeologists are to be put to death via the "Fire of Ishtar" so Bentley and Bellamin, not waiting to wait to find out what this entails,  punches the guards and steals their swords before fleeing into a convenient tunnel with resident oldster Lafarge lagging behind.

As the guards draw ever closer the poor old guy falls to the ground calling on his buddies for help and when Bentley hears Lafarge’s calls he spins around, shining his flashlight into the faces of their pursuers which not only temporarily blinds them but scares them into submission as they shout about Ishtar's light.

Bizarrely tho' the torch isn't actually as bright as the  lights in the city they live in.

Maybe it's actually circles that they're scared of.

Or it might just be shit film-making.

Who knows?

Leaving Lafarge leaning against a cardboard wall (he's tired the poor lamb), Bentley and Bellamin continue to explore the cave eventually reaching the slave quarters where the skirted Sumarian guards spend their days whipping the poor Mole People for some reason or another.

Realizing that nothing exciting has happened for a few minutes one of the mole folk attacks the archeologists and attacks them, alerting the Sumarian guards to their presence.

Cue more pointless running around in the dark till  Lafarge is killed by one of the beasts due to the torch jamming.

No really.

The surviving pair just shrug their shoulders and move on.

Confession time: This scene gave me strange feelings in my tummy as a child.

As the pair continue into the cave system who should pop out from behind a wall but the high priest, it seems that the king has changed his mind about the strangers and wants to invite them around for tea to say sorry.

Sounds legit.

All that hot torch action has convinced the king that the archeologists are actually holy messengers rather than B-movie actors trying to earn a buck and to this end he's organised a party for them that includes fizzy pop, music and scantily clad maidens serving paper plates full of mushrooms.

Standing out from the sexy slaves tho' is the wistful Adele (Patrick strangely credited as Adad in the titles) who is constantly beaten and abuse because unlike everyone else she has normal skin colour and blonde hair.

Obviously she will become Bentley love interest for the remainder of the film.

Meanwhile, whilst all this scoffin' 'n' romancin' is going down the high priest is busily plotting behind the scenes to overthrow the king.

It's almost like that after so many boring scenes of endless cave wanderings and climbing that the writer has decided that what the film needs is an actual plot.

Unfortunately rather than anything remotely involving action this involves lots of forgettable characters in silly hats sitting around talking about stuff.

Case in point as to achieve control of the city the priest sits on a garden chair and slowly orders his co-conspirators to steal Bentley's torch.

The king however has other ideas and demands that Bentley and Bellamin use the magic fire to control the mole people and stop their plans to take over the city.

Bentley however is more interested in Adele and her skills at playing the banjo.

No really.

They look how I feel.

Anyway, more stuff happens, a few mole people get whipped and Bentley continues to gaze wistfully at Adele whilst all the time him and Bellamin are fed mushrooms by sexy albino chicks like the gods they've been mistaken for.

But the film is almost over so it's time to ramp up the action.

Or at least have the priest come across (who are we to judge? it might be a religious thing) LaFarge's corpse proving that our heroes are just mere mortals and deserve to die.

But first there's just time for a fucking terribly choreographed dance routine to accompany three 'sexy' maidens who, one by one disrobe and enter the sunlit room thru' a huge cardboard door and into Ishtar's Flame.
Yup that's right, the high priest is effectively threatening our heroes with death by sunroof.

I mean what if it's raining?

Or cloudy?

Or nighttime?

What your Mum, Nan and Auntie Jean get up to when they say they're at bingo.

Well the guards - after a few minutes waiting - go and retrieve the now burnt remains so their must be a scientific reason for it working.

Oh that's right, Bentley explains that because they've lived underground sunlight is deadly to them.

Well that's OK then.


Anyway some more stuff happens* that leads to Bentley and co. starting a mole man revolution that culminates in the titular beasts attacking the city.

Having stolen the torch the king waves it frantically at the mole men but the batteries are dead which allows the beasts to murder everyone in cold blood, opening the doors to fry the survivors in the blazing sunlight.

Which isn't at all extreme.

Luckily Adele - being a freak with normal skin - is immune to the sun and survives.

With the palace littered in corpses and drenched in blood Bentley, Bellamin and Adele leave the city via Ishtar's flame and climb up the rock face to freedom.

Your sister's wedding night.

"It’s warm…and beautiful," Adele exclaims as she limbs out of the hole and onto the studio set.

Bentley gazes at her lustfully and laughs.

For those of you who think they know how films of this ilk end the makers of The Mole People have an ace up their sleeve.

Or more accurately no idea what constitutes a satisfying ending because 
suddenly as the trio start their journey down the mountain to home an earthquake rocks the mountain causing  Adele to be crushed by a falling stone pillar.

No, really.

Amazingly for a film with such a short running time The Mole People seems to go on forever. 'Directed' (and I use that term in it's loosest possible sense) by Virgil Vogel - the man behind such classics as Space Invasion of Lapland and The Kettles on Old MacDonald's Farm - and 'starring' lug-headed 50s sci-fi icon (as in he was cheap) John (Zontar the Thing from Venus, Attack of the Puppet People, The Brain from Planet Arous, Women of the Prehistoric Planet - top quality one and all) Agar, The Mole People is the cinematic equivalent of a really unsatisfying toilet trip, you know what I mean - you settle down, trousers round your ankles with a good book ready to let slip the (poo) dogs of war and then nothing.

Just painful pushing and grunting followed by a wet fart (if your lucky) 25 minutes later and culminating in a streaky stain on the bowl glistening sadly in the harsh light of the naked bulb.

Just me then?

See that? That's  your film that is.

 

 

 

Ploddingly paced, stiffly acted (if you can call it acted) and as engaging as watching someone nail bent nails into an old piece of wood - which if anything would be a better use of it's cast - The Mole People is so inexcusably horrendous that its only redeeming feature and the only interesting thing about it is the fact that footage from it was reused in a film ever more shite than this one, Jerry Warren's 1966 shitfest The Wild World of Batwoman.

A film so arse-numbingly bad that it even managed to steal the non-sexy bits from a Swedish porn film.**

Avoid.

Unless you have trouble sleeping that is.

Not even with your Dad's.

*All of which is frankly way too boring to even consider typing, tho' it does involve poisoned mushrooms, beast beating and (even) more vaguely erotic dancing whilst John Agar looks on with that smug, punchable expression on his face.

Agar: Punchable.

**In certain establishing shots there's a sign reading "Livsmedel", the Swedish word for grocery store.

gobble my neighbours.

Twin #1 Amelia is well into Squid Game at the moment so felt it was my fatherly duty to introduce her to this. 

And yes it fits in with the whole 31 Days of Horror thing.

Well that was straight to the point.

Turkey Shoot (AKA Blood Camp Thatcher, Escape 2000. 1982).
Dir: Brian Trenchard-Smith.
Cast: Steve Railsback, Olivia Hussey, Michael Craig, Lynda Stoner, Gus Mercurio, Michael Craig, Roger Ward, Carmen Duncan, John Ley, Michael Petrovitch, Carmen Duncan, Bill Young, Dave Hill and Noel Ferrier.

'Disobedience is treason, treason is a crime, crime will be punished!'

Welcome to the whacked out, black clad and oh so slightly fascistic future world of 1995.

If it weren't the past obviously.

Just try not to think about it too much.

As I was saying welcome to a fascistic world where even having a quick peek at a police officer's squinty teeth can lead to a kicking and a stay in one of the state's creepy correction centres and a world where mild mannered antique toting tottie Chris Walters (the virgin Mary herself and ex-lead singer with The Mission, Hussey) has found herself arrested for the heinous crime of having a criminal run into her shop to avoid a beating of a tomb-toothed copper.

Drugged, mugged and thrown into the back of a converted ice-cream van alongside the notorious pirate deejay 'pumping' Paul Anders (the legendary Railsback) and balloon breasted rent-a-blonde Rita Daniels (Prisoner Cell Block H's Stoner), Chris soon finds herself transported to the infamous Camp Thatcher, a former Butlins holiday camp cum detention den specially built to re-educate societies deviant population.

A woman being arrested for no reason and sent for re-education?

Fucking Hell this film is a wee bit far fetched.

Ladies and gentlemen! Live tonite at Saltcoats Butlins....it's Bardot.

In charge of this hellish camp of cruelty is the notorious silver fox Charles Thatcher (teevee stalwart, Robert Kilroy-Silk impersonator and Doctor Who's 'Tonker' Travers himself Craig) aided and abetted by the arse obsessed man-vole Red (Cap' Daulton from Flipper; the late, great Mercurio) and the bald-pated, psychotic man mountain (with a nice line of Freddie Mercury moustaches) Chief Guard John Ritter (Australian acting royalty Ward).

Thatcher, it seems relies on all this heavy handed help in order to maintain his unbroken eight year run as the undisputed winner of the crazy camp commandant bastard competition (sponsored by Asda no less) and to this aim has devised a series of vaguely amusing 'Total Wipeout' style games that run alongside the daily beatings, rapes and shootings to keep the inmates entertained.

What a lovely chap.

"Can we fuck him up the arse with a tractor?" Asked Bob. "Yes we can!"

 

After thrilling his new captives with a special game of football featuring a small boy, two plastic bottles of petrol and a match and following Chris almost getting gang raped in the shower block, Thatcher invites our hero, the constantly crying Chris, slutty Rita, the camps bespectacled rent-a-nutter Dodge (Ley from BMX Bandits) and a politically motivated tall man named Griff up to his office for a friendly chat.

It appears that Thatcher has a proposal for the captive criminals (and surprisingly it doesn't involve screwing over the miners for once) and over cocktails and sausage rolls, excitedly explains it to all and sundry.

Turns out that he's really keen on organizing a special event for the visiting roly poly Secretary for Lard, Mallory Towers (the gravity defying Ferrier) and his recently arrived pals; the bearded mentalist Tito Jackson (Mike Raven wannabe Petrovitch) and the pigeon chested yet loveably loopy lesbian Jennifer (Duncan, best known for A Country Practice), so decides to up his ante (oooh missis), planning as he is a little game of cat and mouse for their entertainment.

By this I actually mean that he's about to blatantly crib from the Richard Connell short story "The Most Dangerous Game" obviously.

First filmed as The Hounds of Zaroff starring the milky thighed Fay Wray alongside a gin soaked Joel McCrea back in 1932, the novels well thumbed plot regarding a rich hunter chasing hunks and totty for cash has been remade almost every other year since under the guise of everything from Game of Death to The Running Man via The Beast Must Die.

Saying that tho' it is a very good plot.

Faye Wray: You would...and so would your granddad.

Anyway, back to this plot (which is still quite entertaining) and with our 'turkeys' given a three hour head start (and with a get out of jail free card if they survive till sundown), it's time to see what specialist death dealing devices our hunters have brought along to make things more interesting.

Whilst Mallory has a big, fuck off dart gun capable of stunning his victims into submission so that he can have 'the sex' with them (he'll be hunting Chris then) and Jennifer has a horse, a multi-function crossbow and a massive big black leather strap-on (hopefully she'll be wanting Anders if we're lucky....nope it's Rita. Damn), it's Tito that wins tonight's prize for greatest (and most amusing) hunting human kit pulling up as he does in a bright orange Bob the Builder tractor.

And (for no apparent reason) with a top hatted werewolf played by Slade's Noddy Holder (possibly) named Alf in tow.

When asked where he acquired such a companion Tito nonchalantly replies "The circus" and drives away.

No, really.

"Aright me chap where's me Cuppa Soup?"

It's bullets vs. brains in a jungle-based, testosterone fueled fight for survival and there can be only one winner.

Well, possibly two.

Or perhaps Anders might be lucky and free all the prisoners at some point so there could even be loads of winners in a kind of lottery survival syndicate.

I didn't really think that last bit thru' did I?

In a blatant attempt to cash in on the early eighties violent dystopia genre,  Trenchard-Smith (director of the Nicole Kidman classic BMX Bandits and the fantastic Leprechaun 4: In Space) alongside writers Jon George and  Neill D. Hicks originally planned to mix the streetwise sensibilities of Mad Max with the literary goodness of 1984 and the human drama of Papillon.

Unfortunately for them (but not us) a major investor pulled out at the last minute (taking $700,000 of the film's $3,200,000 budget with them) causing half the script to be binned.

But only the boring character stuff and a helicopter chase so that's OK.

Adding tension to an already fraught shoot was perennial bridesmaid Railsback's intensely serious (and intensely annoying to the rest of the cast) acting style, a supporting cast made up entirely of the cream of Australian teevee's light entertainment and soap division and a female lead that refused to gut a fish and, after agreeing to a nude scene, would eventually only show her (albeit ample) arse on camera.

It's only after the fact that you begin to realize how lucky they were that the finished film turned out as downright enjoyable  - and watchable - as it is.

Arrow in mah mooth!

If anything Turkey Shoot is all the better for it's numerous back stage struggles, mutating as it does from a fairly serious social commentary style movie into an over the top camp as pants gore fest via an emotionally vacuous romance that ends up making the whole endeavor as wildly schizophrenic as Railsback's performance is comfortingly staid.

Posh and Becks: the pikey years.

Possibly the greatest thing to ever come out of Australia (definitely the greatest movie anyway), Turkey Shoot should be legally enforced viewing for anyone who's ever expressed an interest in film or film-making and refusal should be punishable by death.

Or at least a quick goosing from Alf the werewolf.

As our criminalist colony cousins would say "Fair dinkum mate!"

mickey love.

88 Films released this on shiny Blu-ray way back in 2019 so I (re)reviewed it in the hope of blagging a copy.

Do you think it worked?*

Anyway found out that a grand total of 6 people read it so I'm (re) reposting it today as part of the whole 31 Days of Horror thing that no-one is reading, partly because it deserves more love but mainly because I was up late last night and am feeling way too rough to type anything new.

Yes, I'm so stunning and brave.

Cannibal Terror (1981).
Dir: Alain Deruelle.
Cast: Silvia Solar, Gérard Lemaire, Pamela Stanford, Olivier Mathot, Antoine Fontaine, Antonio Mayans, Mariam Camacho, Antonio Jover, Amparo Marsilla, Montserrat Salvador, Sabrina Siani, Bernard Thébault, Chris Yebenes, Alain Deruelle and le petite Annabelle (no, really).

As a (moldy) cheesy listening cover version cum tuneless abomination of La Bamba plays loudly in the background we're introduced to our brilliantly portrayed and well written cast of characters** whose lives we'll be following for the next 90 odd minutes - human rodent Roberto (Tony Fontaine), greasy mopped Mario (Antonio Oasis of the Zombies Mayans ) and the scarily pneumatic Belinda (Mariam Camacho....bless you), a trio of shady crims running scams in some unnamed South American dive (played here by an off season Alicante).

Unfortunately they are all utter shite at being criminals as we see during the films opening when the bashful boys are seen attempting to rob a boat only to be foiled when Mario gets confused as to how to open a door.

Oh.

My.

Sides.

Their luck is about to change tho' because as Belinda is out shopping she happens across a wee girl named Florence Dauville (listed as - I kid you not -  le petite Annabelle in the credits) playing with a gaudy doll outside the beauty salon where her mum (Silvia Solar) is getting her nails done.

Tho' I'm surprised she's ignoring the mustache she has.

Or is that just shit on her top lip?

Anyway turns out that the little lass is actually the heiress of  the Dauville automobile fortune, so as anyone in that position would do, Belinda decides it'd be a good idea to kidnap her.

Your auntie at Christmas....you know which one.

Surprisingly this goes without a hitch and the girl is quickly snatched as the parents enjoy a nice tapas meal only going to pot when Mario's pal Ricardo (no idea who plays him, sorry) decides to visit them and gets run over by a drunk driver.

In no time at all (it is a short movie), the whole place is chocablock with the police and both Ricardo and the tipsy driver have been arrested.

I can see why the driver was but unless wearing your dad's golfing trousers out on a Friday night is a crime I'd have thought it'd be better to take Ricardo to hospital myself but heyho.

Convinced that Ricardo may mention the kidnapping to the police (even tho' he knows fuck all about it) Roberto calls his mafia boss-like buddy, Pepe (who is neither a skunk or owner of a 70s/80s jeans company) in order to get safe passage out of the country.

Pepe, being well connected arranges a flight to the border so they can meet up with famed tracker Mickey Morris (played by a chipmunk with a crap perm), who guide them around the checkpoint whilst keeping the guards busy by flashing her ample cleavage and smooth, milky white thighs before taking them up the safe house owned by the high waisted Antonio (playing himself probably) and his (much) younger wife Manuela (Pamela Stanford from your dads bed).

The only thing our intrepid group have to worry about is not to stray too far off the path as they may end up in cannibal territory.

Sounds legit.

Harsh.

Everything goes swimmingly (even Mickey's thigh tease is actually fairly arousing but then again what do I know?) until that is the Jeep's radiator runs out of water or something (I don't know I'm not a driver) and Mickey has to go to the nearby stream to get a refill.

No sooner is she out of sight tho' (which must be quite far as her arse is massive) than the cannibals turn up and eat her whole.

Wait for it.....

Which is surprising seeing as I'd heard that they spit that bit out.

Thank you.

Hearing Mickey's screams as she's attacked the trio do what we all would in that situation and drive off in the Jeep which without warning is suddenly working again.

Quickly arriving at Antonio's house the group try to explain away Mickey's absence by saying she had her woman's period and after much 'oohing' and 'aaahing' Antonio relents and invites them in for tea.

But the only thing Mario wants into is Manuela's lacy undies.

That reminds me....I better check if the gammon in my fridge has gone off.

During the getting to know you tea party the phone rings and Antonio is called back into the office as it seems he's the only person who can change the toner in the photocopier and after kissing his wife goodbye bids everyone a fond farewell and instructs them to treat the place as their own.

Unfortunately Mario misinterprets this as "Feel free to wank in the bushes whilst watching my wife shower then chase her up thru' the bushes, tie her to a tree then forcibly penetrate her lush lady garden with your swollen uncircumcised member before firing your white hot joy juice all over her thighs." which lets be honest is an easy mistake to make.

For anyone thinking that this is just a crash exploitative sex scene thrown in to placate the (mostly) male audience you'd be dead wrong as this it's artistically offset with some soft-focus scenes of Belinda seducing a guy in a sombrero playing the guitar.

So there.

Your mum and dad at Christmas after you've gone to bed.

Upon his return Antonio is obviously a wee bit upset to find his wife semi-conscious and tied to a tree so decides to plan his revenge, firstly by getting everyone drunk then inviting Mario on a hunting trip where he ties him to the same tree before calling on his cannibal pals to eat him.

Meanwhile back at the house Manuela is busy with her own plan, informing the local handyman Brian that the house guests are in fact the pesky (and pikey) kidnappers that have been all over the news and that there's a huge reward for their capture.

Meanwhile Florence’s parents have discovered where their daughter is being held so round up a posse to go rescue her.

The stage is set for an explosive climax as the kidnappers have the choice of facing justice or facing a hungry cannibal tribe....

Tho' to be honest it's not that exciting.

Don't judge or take the piss, they are stunning and brave.

Reeling from the accusation of producing the shoddiest movie ever made with Zombie(s) Lake, producer Daniel Lesoeur obviously decided to show the world the true meaning of cheap and to that end hired professional pervert Jess Franco to flesh out his tale of kinky kidnapping and cannibal corpse crunching with the remit of keeping the entire budget under £12.50.

But who could be trusted to stay on/under budget but still deliver the gory goods?

Enter (roughly and from behind) Alain Deruelle, director of the fantastic Orgies pour nymphomanes, who keeps the budget low by using the play park behind his house a the jungle, his Pyrenees hiking holiday footage as establishing shots of the Amazon and in a stroke of either utter genius or blatant racism blacks up the local youth football team to play the cannibals.

And still manages to keep a few quid back to buy some wine for the wrap party.

Shite in mah mooth.

Luckily the director had photo's of composer Jean-Jaques Lemêtre fucking a pig so got the score for free, tho' to be honest he couldn't have been that bothered about the pics getting out if his music here is anything to go by seeing as it sounds like the type of thing your granddad would play to try and (unsuccessfully) seduce the papergirl.

You know the one with the really frizzy hair that your mum made you dance with at the church Christmas party.

The one with seriously sore acne that smelled of banana Nesquik?

Just me then.

The only downside scarily enough is Jess Franco's script (tho' it did have two obviously less able writers attached to it as well) tho' film historians agree that Franco purposely made it nonsensical as to not steal the thunder (or shoes) from his own Cannibal epic(s) Devil Hunter and Mondo Cannibale which were both shooting around the same time, tho' it may have been that he was just too drunk to give a fuck.

Which perfectly sums up the state you'd have to be in to even contemplate watching this movie.

Unless you're a connoisseur of 'cult' cinema when you'll have to buy it anyway.

Just like I did.

Which is fair enough.

 *No.



**This for all American readers is what we Brits call 'sarcasm'.

rage hard.

Been after this since we drunkenly saw the trailer about 20 years back (seriously stuff got in the way), partly because not only did Umberto Lenzi 'write' the script but it was also the last film that FX god Carlo Rambaldi worked on.

Mainly tho' it was because I enjoy watching films with this title, like the one where Bigfoot has sex with Casey Gagliardi in a cave.

"Ooh Vic I've fallen!"

Primal Rage (1988)
Dir: Vittorio Rambaldi
Cast: Bo Svenson, Cheryl Arutt, Doug Sloan, Mitch Watson, Patrick Lowe, Sarah Buxton

"Listen you dildos, I´m going to have the last laugh!”

 

 

Part time baby-faced wannabe white knight and investigative journalist in training Sam 'Nosher' Nash (Slumber Party Massacre II 'star' and father of Rob - Lowe), between helping snazzy redhead - and soon to be love interest - Lauren (Arutt who's probably been in loads of stuff) avoid parking tickets and gatecrashing random music events has decided to investigate the college science lab where, it is rumored that the crap ponytailed and big binned Dr Ethridge (Svenson who's worked for everyone from Clint Eastwood to Quentin Tarantino via a spell at Quick-Fit) is performing illegal experiments on monkeys.

Well on a monkey.

OK it's a model.

But a fairly convincing one I have to say.

And by investigate I mean get his pal Frank 'TinTin' Duffy (Watson, who went on to produce Scooby Doo and the King Julien animated spin offs) to do it instead so that our 'hero' can stay at home dreaming of Lauren's admittedly fantastic curly locks.

Which is nice.

His camera might not lie but his student ID sure does.

With the film having a fairly short running time, Duffy - after a few beers obviously -  heads over to the lab and is soon taking (candid) photos of an obviously fake monkey stuck in a cage with a mass of wires coming out of its head.

Because abusing rubber animals is bad or something.

Anyway the flash from the camera sends the stitched up simian totally bonkers and he angrily smashes out of his cage and bites poor Duffy on the arm before leaping to freedom out of an open window.

This freedom is short lived tho' as he's soon squashed by a passing police car giving Duffy ample time to sneak back home for a tearful (left-handed) wank and a Pot Noodle.

"Bananas in mah mooth!"

Unaware of all the chaos and carnage that went down the night before, Sam is back to his old white knight routine, firstly by saving Lauren from accidentally going to a frat party organised by badboy Barry Lovejoy (the entertaining Sloan) and his college rape squad (no really) and by setting up her roommate Debbie (TV stalwart and mum of Adam - Buxton) with Duffy so they can all go out on a double date.

Debbie by the way has far too much backstory for a film of this kind seeing as within minutes of meeting her we find out that not only is she a maths whizz but she's missed a whole term because she was away having an abortion.

And no, neither of these points will be of any importance later.

No words.

As a new day dawns, Duffy realises that the bite might be a wee bit infected seeing as he's woken up covered in a sour smelling gunk - as opposed to a stiff cheesy film like usual - but that will have to wait as he has to get ready for his date with Debbie, so one quick shower and shite later he's propping up the bar waiting and looking for if not love then at least a wee reach around on his porch.

Yes, I know it appears that it's taken him a whole day to get ready but I can't remember if owt else happened at this point.

The excited chat and drinks are going well until the leader of 'rape squad' decides to try and seduce Debbie whilst Duffy is having a piss, his "Would you like to come in the back of me car and let me bite ya!" chat does little to tempt her tho' and the whole situation culminates with Duffy returning and giving Roger Rapey a painful Chinese burn.

Ouch.

As the four call it a night, Debbie and Duffy decide to go for a romantic walk along the side of the college swimming pool, chatting about life and the like which ends up in the couple having a wee kiss before Duffy accidentally bites her neck.

Ouch again.

Debbie, being a nice, understanding type of gal doesn't mind tho' and excitedly arranges to meet him the next day after class.

The Pet Shop Boys are taking the divorce well.

Unfortunately the next morning Duffy wakes up sweating buckets and covered in sick so decides instead to go to the college hospital for a check up little knowing that his fever is due to a rage infection he's caught off the monkey.

Think 28 Days Later but watchable.

As the queue at the clinic gets longer Duffy gets more and more angry before finally letting loose with a violent torrent of abuse regarding a mans trousers that culminates in him hitting a nurse with a fire extinguisher and legging it down the fire escape and hiding in a bush till nightfall when he kills a poiliceman.

To death.

Meanwhile, Debbie is beginning to show signs of 'the rage' too so decides to skip class and go for a walk soon coming across the evil rape students from earlier who - taking advantage of her confused state - drag her into their car and back to their dorm where in a scene of chutzpah over talent via a borrowed strobe light Debbie violently kicks - and bites - their arses before escaping into the night.

 

Wanting to not only save his pal but score some Brownie points with Lauren, Sam begrudgingly teams up with Dr Ethridge in order to find a cure for the monkey-based madness.

 

But time is running out.

 

The college Halloween party is fast approaching and Lovejoy and the boys have a plan to bite and bum their way thru the entire campus....

 

 

 

 The lights are on...

 

 

 

 

 

From the son of special effects maestro Carlo (King Kong, ET, Dune) Rambaldi, the mind of the late, great Umberto Lenzi and the company that gave us such classics as Edge of The Axe and Nightmare Beach comes this frankly rather wonderful anti-vivisection monster mash that is surprisingly way more entertaining than it has any right to be.

Maybe I'm losing it during lockdown or maybe I'm getting soft in my old age but honestly I don't think you'll find a more satisfying - or fun - campus-based monkey virus movie ever.

 

The direction (from the aforementioned Vittorio Rambaldi who later gave us the Ornella Muti-voiced Yo-rhad, un amico dallo spazio...no me neither) is solid enough and Rambaldi gets some entertaining performances from the genuinely likeable cast - Patrick Lowe is all teeth, hair and sincerity, Cheryl Arutt (now a Clinical and Forensic Psychologist, fact fans - tho' fuck knows what she'd think of this blog) has that 80s ginger curl thing going on so is a win for me whilst Mitch Watson and Sarah Buxton give some great sweating beast acting as they tear the cast - and the scenery - to shreds, especially in the (usually) oh so tiresome "Let's have a wee sexual assault scene" that seems to haunt late 80s horror as pre-pubescent directors mistake rape for sexiness, here the scene plays out exactly the opposite to you'd imagine and the film is all the better for it.

 

 Super-nanny's gone a bit dark....

 

 

If you have to be negative about anything tho' (which sorry - I have to, it's my way) it's the fact that Debbie character has such bad luck throughout the movie (from teen abortion to attempted rape to beast infection) you end up feeling way too sorry for her and just want to give her a hug as opposed to just sitting back and enjoying the carnage.

 

Because as the film rushes toward its climax there's a fair amount, especially when Lovejoy's gang, infected with the rage and decked out in slightly camp matching skeleton outfits (resplendent with glowing red eyes) crash the Halloween party and start murdering the guests in all manner of exotic and fun ways - a guy dressed as a tap has his head crushed and bleeds out of the faucet, a vampire has his throat ripped out and a man dressed as a hanging ghost is hoisted to the roof by his fake noose.

And all to a pounding Claudio Simonetti soundtrack that features the classic Fast Food Girls 'hit' Love Is My Mania not once but three times.

Did I say genius?

The obvious inspiration for 28 Days Later and the whole sprinting zombie genre, Primal Rage is a hidden gem in the over-saturated 80s horror scene that needs to be elevated to the classic status it deserves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

saxon violence.

I know it's October and the weather's bad so as way of a treat I thought I'd review a film with a beach in it to remind you of sunnier days.

You're welcome.

 

 

Nightmare Beach (AKA Welcome To Spring Break, 1988).
Dir: Umberto Lenzi (or maybe Harry Kirkpatrick).
Cast: Nicolas de Toth, Sarah Buxton, Rawley Valverde, Lance Le Gault, Michael Parks, John Saxon, Ben Stotes, Kristy Lachance, Gregg Todd Davis, Yamilet Hidalgo, John Baldwin, Luis Valderrama, Fred Buck, Debra Gallagher, Turk Harley, Christina Kier and Tony Bolano.

"welcome to spring break, the annual migration of the idiot".

Welcome to the B-movie Blackpool that is Manatee Beach, Florida where badboy biker Roger 'Diablo' Whittaker (Bad Boys and 2 Fast 2 Furious 'star'  Bolano) is about to be electrocuted for the murder of the local teen Betty Tilsley.

In attendance are the towns patent bastard of a police chief Jeff Strycher (John 'my illustrious career' Saxon), town coroner and part-time alcoholic Dr. Willet (Twin Peaks Jean Renault himself Parks) and the - Very - Reverend Ralph Bates (TV stalwart Le Gault) alongside the murdered girl’s big sister, Gail (the brilliant Buxton, best know as Debbie in Primal Rage).

As he's dragged kicking and screaming toward 'Old Sparky' Diablo pleads that he didn’t commit the (bad) murder and that it was actually Strycher that did it and ran away but alas no-one seems to care and the switch is pulled as the greasy biker boy is executed.

But not before he promises to return from the grave and exact his revenge.


Yup, seems legit.

"Are you looking at my bra?"

But who really cares about such trivial matters when it's time for the town to transform into a hotbed of sex, booze and bubble perms for the annual Spring Break celebrations?

Not any sane scriptwriter that's for sure.

And it's at the local hotel where we first meet our hero for the next 90 minutes -  college football star Skip Tinkle (latter day film editor De Toth, who comes across like a slightly less charismatic Jai Courtney if that were possible) and his pal Ronnie Spector (Valverde, best known as Santa Barbara bad lad Amado Gonzalez) who are all set for a week of having the sex with a variety of ladies.

Unfortunately Skip is too upset to think about girls as he missed a penalty or something during his last football game meaning that everyone keeps telling him that he cost them money and that he's a bit shit.

Which if I'm honest is way more character background than we usually get so we should really be grateful.

So as Ronnie does his best (R rated) Slater from Saved By The Bell impression, Skip sits dejected in the local bar where he catches the eye of Gail, who's happy to finally meet someone who doesn't try to grab her (albeit peachy) arse whilst asking for booze.

Yup he's a proper gent.

Gail: Tuesday.

Feeling pretty pleased with himself for giving Skip such a great backstory, writer James Justice (or is it 'director' Harry Kirkpatrick under a different name?) throws caution - and logic - to the wind by introducing all manner of other backstories and sub plots including a rat-like pickpocket who’s fleecing all the students and a fright-permed practical joker who's attempts at humour involve everything from pretending to be dead in a pool to swimming around in a home-made shark suit (no, really) alongside the Reverend’s flat-faced daughter Rachael (Gallagher) who would rather get pissed and have 'the sex' with anyone who smiles in her general direction than go to church and don't forget the 'lovely' Kimberley (Kier in her only film role outside the ones her uncle made when she was a kid) who’s on a mission to find fat old (rich) men to fuck for money (this surprisingly seems to work really well) as well as the sleazy hotel clerk (resplendent with the cliched thinning hair, John Waters style mustache and loud, ill-fitting shirt, just in case you hadn't figured it out) who, when not mopping his sweaty brow spends his days spying on Kimberley and her conquests thru' a peephole in a cupboard wall.

Seriously it's like a crack-fueled episode of Crossroads just without the stench of cabbage.

Or if you prefer the reboot, Freema Agyeman in a bath.

"I love jumping in muddy puddles!"

Anyway back at the actual plot, Diablo's old bike gang - the scarily monikered the Demons are pretty certain that Strycher was responsible for framing their leader and getting him executed so their new big boss man, the enigmatic Tony Dawg (Valderrama, who was actually in some other stuff but to be honest I can't be bothered typing what) decides to take revenge on not just the police but everyone in town beginning with Skip and Ronnie who they angrily accuse of parking in their spot.

No, really.

Luckily Strycher turns up saving us the embarrassment  of what would have been a really badly executed fight scene and everyone goes about their business.

Talking of executing and business, the Demons aren’t the only mad bastards on two wheels in town (and I'm not counting the pair of BMX experts that turn up and do a few stunts in the background at one point) as there's also a leather-clad mentalist on the loose whose motorcycle has a home-made electrocution device built into it and he's prowling the streets frying anyone he comes across much like they do with Mars Bars in Edinburgh.

No amusing caption, just total and utter devotion....she will be mine.

But enough random killings for now as we have to check in with Ronnie and Skip.

No change with our football fouling fella tho' as he's still sipping on a warm beer and making doe-eyes at Gail, which leaves Mr sex Machine Ronnie at a lose end.

Which I'm surprised he doesn't have already from the way his pal keeps looking at him.

Anyway deciding to go out on the ton alone, Ronnie soon comes across (not in that way tho' I'm sure she'd be used to it by now)  Diablo’s ex-girlfriend, Trina (Hidalgo, best known for playing a whore in the Eric Roberts actioner The Specialist) who invites him back to the gangs pad for a wee bit of raunchy rudeness.

Wouldn't you guess it tho' it's actually a trap and before he can even consider unsheathing his huge manhood  the rest of the gang beat the shit out of him before stealing his football medallion and leaving the poor guy battered and bleeding in a car park.

We've all been there.

But no sooner have the Demons up and left than the evil electricutor (yes I know that's not a real word but it should be) appears and kills our beaten up buddy.

To death.

Germs.

Waking up alone and with his trousers still on the right way Skip soon realises that Ronnie is missing and heads off to ask Gail if she’s seen him.

Well obviously she's seen him but I think he actually means recently.

As in the night before obviously as she's only just met them so technically she's only seen him recently.

Unless they were at school together or something and no-one has mentioned it.

But I digress.

Offering to help Skip locate his missing pal the pairs first stop is the local A and E ward where a very tipsy Dr. Willet tells them that he hasn't seen anyone of late before clumsily crashing into a cupboard and phoning Strycher to warn him that those meddling kids are investigating stuff.

Or something.

You see, unbeknown to our young friends, Mayor Loomis (Caddyshack's Buck) alongside Strycher and Willet have actually buried Ronnie’s body in the local builders yard in the hope that no-one discovers that there's a serial killer in town.

Jimbo the spawn of Beelzebub.

As he wanders the streets looking for his friend Skip bumps into Trina and quickly notices that she's wearing Ronnie’s medal and, when questioned admits that the gang beat him up a wee bit but that he was still alive when they left him.

Oh and that Diablo didn't kill Gail's sister and that someone else - maybe a town official - did it.

As Skip and Gayle investigate further even more crispy, battered bodies begin to turn up and it appears that no-one is safe from the bonkers biker.....

Poster.

When even Umberto (Nightmare City) Lenzi refuses to admit to directing a movie you just know you're in for a treat and Nightmare Beach definitely delivers something.

Just probably not what the producers were expecting.

Taking its killer biker cues from such classics as What Have They Done To Your Daughters? and Strip Nude For Your Killer, Nightmare Beach adds a smidgen of Jaws for good measure - as well as bizarrely a bit of Assault on Precinct 13 - before getting screamingly drunk and just throwing the results at the screen, sticking a Claudio Simonetti score on it (alongside some sub-Bangles shite pop obviously) and hoping something sticks.

True none of it makes any sense and the plot is even more schizophrenic than Peter Sutcliffe at Butlins but it's definitely enjoyable in it's own peculiar way.

And if only to watch the look of utter despair on John Saxon's - gravy-tanned - face as he spits reams of inane dialogue whilst thinking "Surely a new swimming pool can't cost this much?" before realising that this time round at least he hasn't had to perform cunnilingus on a hamster for spare change.

John we salute you.

And feel your pain.

Cinzia De Carolis: Less barely legal more barely human.

As for the rest of the cast, Michael Parks is all big bins and stutters as the doctor with a secret whilst Lance LeGault is so over the top as to become airbourne, ranting and raving about whores and sin whilst little bits of spit collect in the corner of his mouth.

Which is lucky as apart from Rawley Valverde - who let's be honest is actually letting his outfits act for him - the rest of the cast are stiffer than Jimmy Savile in an orphanage with Sarah Buxton's unblinking and flatly monotone portrayal of Gayle especially unnerving.

For fear of accusations of sexism I have to say that Nicolas De Toth fares no better, spending the entire film stumbling around open mouthed speaking his liners like a stroke victim who's only just rediscovered his voice.

But scariest of all is the frankly fantastic Yamilet Hidalgo, who appears to have drunkenly walked on set on the way home from a fairly debauched birthday party and just joined in after mistaking the whole thing as real.

Which is odd as not only does her voice seem to be badly dubbed but her whole body movement does too.

If you've ever had the urge to electrocute a baby dear but were too scared in case you got into trouble then fear not as watching her performance here amounts to the same thing.

Albeit just not quite as sexy.

Yamilet Hidalgo: Dirtier than your mum.

But what I hear you cry of these strange rumours regarding Umberto Lenzi not actually directing it?

Well according to the great man himself, he reckoned that he was originally hired to direct it but fell out with the producers over 'something'* but stayed on set as a courtesy in order to advice screenwriter James Justice who'd ended up with the job as everyone else had gone for a tea break.

I for one kinda believe him seeing as the finished product - which by no stretch of the imagination is in any way well made - is far from being as cack-handed as many other of Lenzi's efforts.

Plus the situation couldn't have been as bad as he made out seeing as the pair re-teamed the week after shooting was complete to make the 'classic' mutant monkey/slasher mash-up Primal Rage for the same producers.

They even invited Sarah Buxton back.

Poor cow.






























































*Lenzi's off-screen battles with various producers were as legendary as his latent misogyny and if you're in any doubt as to either just watch any documentaries regarding the making of Nightmare City where he rants uncontrollably about   his battles to complete his vision, from producer Luis Mendez refusing to let him cast a 'name' actor in the lead role of Dean Miller (Lenzi favoured either Franco Nero or Fabio Testi whereas Mendez insisted on a Mexican lead to appeal to the movies co-funders who eventually cast alleged lush and professional hairy woodsman Stiglitz) to what appears to be an imaginary 'female executive' forcing him to tone down the films many gore scenes and shadowy government types threatening violence as the script veered too close to the truth - honestly the stories are almost as entertaining as the movie.

 Almost.