delia derbyshire: audiological.

 Celebrating the genius of Delia Derbyshire - the high priestess of British electronic music.

 

monster mash.

Been recovering from an annoying hearing loss of late so thought I'd cheer myself up with this fantastic Franco favourite seeing as it minimal dialogue.

And minimal plot.

Tho' it does have a ginger woman singing whilst flashing her pants.

Thems the breaks.

Dracula, Prisoner of Frankenstein (AKA Drácula contra Frankenstein, 1972).

Dir: Jesus Franco.

Cast: Dennis Price, Howard Vernon, Paca Gabaldón, Alberto Dalbés, Britt Nichols (AKA Carmen Yazalde), Josyane Gilbert, Luis Barboo, Brandy and Fernando Bilbao.

 

They have awakened... and they are the sound of terror!

 

Evil bloodsucker Count Brian Dracula (Genre God Vernon, star of my fave ever lake based zombie movie Zombie Lake, the terrifying Orloff And The Invisible Man and latter day angry Chihuahua Ren Hoek) rules over the small Romanian village of Spent with a rod of iron (and teeth like clothes-pegs), spending his nights either draining local virgins of blood or pushing pensioners down the stairs.

With the villagers are too frightened to fight back and local gypsy witch Amira's (Geneviève Robert who was married to Ivan Reitman, no idea how that's relevant tho') spells seemingly powerless against the Count it's left to the local GP, the studly Dr. Jonathan Seward (hunky beef-treat Dalbés star of Tendre et perverse Emanuelle and The Erotic Rites of Frankenstein) to challenge the creepy count and rid the village of his evil ways

 

Fancy trainers not shown.

.

Jumping into/onto his deluxe horse-drawn carriage (which is an odd choice of transport seeing the sheer amount of modern days cars, TV aerials, phones and fashions around the place) Seward makes his way to Castle Dracula and almost without any effort enters the crypt and quickly pounds a stake into Dracula's heart.

Sorted.

This has the bizarre effect tho' of not only transforming Dracula into a tiny stuffed bat but turning the massive wooden stake into a cocktail stick which is now poking out of the bats arse.

Which is nice.

And with that Seward heads back to work.

And by work I mean spending the day 'studying' the dusky, Amazon-thighed María (Gabaldón) his - seemingly - only patient who spends her days wearing only a mans red shirt whilst crayoning on the walls.

Feminine perfection I'm sure you'll agree.

Maria: Thighs.

Being only 20 minutes into the film (tho' to be fair it does seem like longer) there's no way that's the last we'll see of Dracula and soon enough a sinister black hearse trundles into town driven by the boss-eyed hunchback Morpho (Barboo who readers may recognise from Franco's The Demons and from his top turns in Supersonic Man, Conan The Barbarian - yes really - and as Alberic in The Loreley's Grasp), humble servant of the infamous - and oh so slightly pissed - Dr. Rainier Frankenstein (Dennis - my gin soaked career - Price. From Kind Hearts and Coronets to this and with only Horror Hospital to look forward to, poor sod).

Seriously you can smell the booze thru' the screen.

It appears that the pair have stopped to ask for directions to Dracula's castle (as you do), well Morpho has stopped to ask as I'm pretty sure by the look of things that Price can barely stand unaided let alone speak.

Which is probably why the movie has literally no dialogue.

And when anyone does speak it's a voice-over.

Artistic eh?

Or just cheap?

YOU decide.

Anyway it turns out that Frankenstein has purchased the castle at a knock down price and reckons it's just the place for him to continue his work.

Plus it has a really fucking well stocked wine cellar and a handy off-licence nearby.

And with that the pair unpack the car and set up the lab.

They've even got a monster (Bilbao from the frankly fantastic The Vampires Night Orgy), packed carefully into a big box and are all set to go.

Sorted.  

But whilst searching for extra extension cords to plug all his fancy electrical gadgets into Frankenstein stumbles (literally) upon Dracula’s coffin in the crypt, complete with the arse-impaled bat lying inside.

 

Surmising that this must be the infamous Count Dracula himself, the doctor decides to try and reanimate him.

 

As you do.

 

Meanwhile back in town, copper-topped temptress Estela (Gilbert, best known for her roles in Confessions of the Sex Slaves and A Rope for a Bastard as well as editing A Virgin Among the Living Dead and co-writing Nightmares Come at Night) is busy entertaining the locals with her saucy French cabaret act which involves her singing sad love songs whilst shoving her arse into the faces of anyone sitting near the front.

 

Just like your Nan did during the war.

 

 

Strumpet.

 

Luckily we only get to see her perform one song (Jess doesn't need to stretch the running time that much) so she's soon off to her dressing room for a fag and a poo before heading home. Unfortunately she's interrupted by Frankenstein’s monster, who's been hiding behind the wardrobe ready to pounce.

 

And pounce he does, scooping Estela into his arms and beating the remaining clientele to death before stomping off to the castle.

It appears that only the blood from a third-rate, over the hill cabaret performer can revive the prince of darkness so Frankenstein straps Estela to a decorating table and begins draining her blood into an old jam jar wherein lies a visibly terrified bat flapping about as it tries not to drown whilst director Franco pours Ribena over it.

Surprisingly this actually works and thanks to the power of stop/start filming techniques the bat is quickly replaced with a sleeping Howard Vernon (tho' they've not tried to squeeze him into a jar unfortunately) - minus a stake up his arse obviously.

For some unknown reason tho' Dracula is now almost catatonic and unable to function without orders from Frankenstein. 

And what are those orders?

To head into town and kidnap folk to turn into an army of the undead and take over the world.

And he's going to start with Maria.

Probably because Seward is less likely to try and stick his wood into her if she goes all vampy but mainly because the cast is so small.

Look I didn't write this.

As in I didn't write the script.

I mean I wrote (well typed) this obviously.

And this.

But you know what I mean.

 

"Fiona! Where's mah lunch?"

Anyway I digress.

So whilst all this blood draining and kidnapping is going on Frankenstein sends his monster to deal with Seward but being a bit shit it totally fails to kill the good doctor but does leave him incapacitated in a ditch, unable to save Maria from her fate.

Luckily Amira and her Gypsies come across him and nurse Seward back to health much to Frankenstein's chagrin.

Phew, glad that bit of jeopardy was dealt with so quickly, the film almost became exciting for a minute.

With Frankenstein's plan in full flow and Seward out of action recovering on a stinky camp bed no-one seems to have noticed that there was, in fact, another vampire in the castle and this time it's a sexy blonde one (Brit Nichols AKA Carmen Yazalde - best known around here as the uncredited sacrificial maiden in Tombs of The Blind Dead) and she too wants a wee bit of bitey action.

Cue many scenes of her and Vernon breaking into peoples houses and sucking jam off their necks.

I fang you.

 An ever growing gang of vicious vamps isn't all a quickly recovered Seward has to deal with tho' as Amira's spooky spirit guide has warned her that a werewolf (played by the enigmatic Spanish stuntman Brandy and not the American singer, songwriter, dancer, model and actress of the same name no matter what Google says, pity) is fast approaching town with a score to settle with Frankenstein....

For fans of the late, great Jess Franco, Dracula, Prisoner of Frankenstein is a wee bit of an oddity featuring none of the nudity, sexy sadism and erotica (plus copious amounts of 60s/70s bush) we associate with the great man.

Which is a shame really as all we're left with is a threadbare basis of a plot, a barely conscious lead villain, joke shop make-up and a pace that, if any more leisurely with be catatonic.

And don't get me started on the piss poor editing and hit and miss attempts a keeping things in focus.

But as a plus point, the usual Franco crash zooms are always welcome and Paca Gabaldón does have a smashing blouse so swings and roundabouts really.

 

"Spice Girls number one for Christmas? MONSTA!"

 

 

Scarily tho' despite its (painfully) obvious shortcomings it's actually a fairly enjoyable little film, especially late at night with a drink in you.

Plus Howard Vernon is always worth a watch, even when he's as horribly miscast as he is here, all poppy-eyed and cherry-lipped sneaking around various folks bedrooms with an ill-fitting top hat perched precariously on his tiny pinhead.

Like most folk here he's doing his best with what he's been given, which is more than Paca Gabaldón got seeing as she's emoting with only a shirt and a box of crayons but whilst everyone seems to be giving it their all you can't help but feel slightly uncomfortable every time Dennis Price is onscreen as he stumbles around the uneven castle floors, obviously trying his best to walk in a straight line as the booze sweat glistens on his brow.

And to think he'd be dead a year later at the (relatively) young age of 58.

So don't drink kids.

Fucking Hell that's a depressing note to end on.

Sorry.

love story.

 Artwork from the frankly fantastic back catalogue of Geoff Love and his Orchestra.

(egg) box frenzy

Haven't rewatched this in years, last time was when I reviewed it for the first issue of Crypt of Cult magazine (still available to buy over at Amazon, it makes a brilliant  read) and have come to the realization that it doesn't ever get the love it deserves.

A wee bit like your mum really.

Anyway seeing as it's Ian McCulloch's  birthday today I thought I'd reshare my thoughts on this classic, I mean even Morrisons seem to be celebrating this movie with their range of Contamination tie-in eggs....

So where do you start with such a review? 

With a huge HAPPY BIRTHDAY IAN! to its star obviously.

Enjoy.

Contamination (AKA Alien Contamination, Contamination: Alien on Earth, Toxic Spawn. 1980)

Dir: Luigi Cozzi (AKA Lewis Coates).

Cast: Ian McCulloch, Louise Marleau, Marino Mase, Carlo De Mejo, your mum  and a big green jelly.

Opening as most 80's Italian horror movies do - with grainy aerial shots of New York cut to a totally inappropriate synth score (this time supplied by Italy's finest prog rock legends Goblin) - Contamination begins with a mysterious 'ghost ship' approaching the harbour.

Not the one from Zombie Flesh Eaters tho', that was last weekend.

New York's finest, Lieutenant Tony Aris (played by the fantastically tanned Marino Mase) calls on the bizarrely out of (lip) synch Dr. Turner to explore the ship with him and a group of faceless (literally, they're all wearing bio-hazard masks) cops, who after wandering around in the dark for ten minutes come across the bloodied remains of the crew.

Turner is shocked, it appears that everyone on board either:

A. was replaced by shoddily cut up shop window dummies covered in cow intestines and jam.
or
B. exploded.

"Shite in mah....oh."

After depositing their lunch over one of the corpses (as you do) our intrepid band carefully creep into the ships hold, only to discover boxes upon boxes marked 'café' and a big green glowing egg under a pipe.

If that wasn't enough to make even the bravest man fill his trousers a strange and otherworldly noise, akin to a rusty tuba being played by an asthmatic beagle is spookily echoing around the hold.

Poking the egg with a pencil, Turner is shocked to see it burst open, showering him and all the team (save Lieutenant Aris) with what looks like a mix of PVA glue, green poster paint and KY jelly that has the fairly unusual effect of making all the non speaking extras stomachs explode leaving Aris looking slightly bewildered and the audience ready for 90 minutes of pure terror.

Probably.

"How'd you like your eggs love?"

Aris is whisked away to a top secret military base run by the, um, 'lovely' Colonel Stella Holmes (Marleau), who after stripping him naked, giving him an old blanket and locking him in a big fish tank explains that she runs a special operations unit (Section 5) specifically set up to combat the menace of scary eggs and would he like to join?

You would....and your Granddad probably did. Twice.

Aris jumps at the chance and, clad in a pair of Quick Fit overalls, accompanies Colonel Holmes and co. to a warehouse 'downtown' where they find what looks like a cut-price version of jive talking Italian 'B' god Bobby Rhodes guarding hundreds of the so-called killer eggs.

As the soldiers advance replica-Rhodes bursts one of the eggs causing him and his buddies stomachs to explode leaving the surviving eggs free to be destroyed by flame thrower equipped soldiers.

I have to be honest and admit that I'm really at a loss to explain the logic behind his plan.

"He did WHAT in his cup?"

If nothing else tho' it does allow Holmes to take a couple of them away to examine giving her time to deduce that these eggs could only have come from Mars and that they were brought back by astronauts on the last mission there.

You see, it appears that one of the crew, 'Mutha' Hubbard (played to angry ginger haired Scottish perfection by Italian horror veteran McCulloch, the reason you're here) had been ranting about finding a cavern full of big green tuba playing eggs on the red planet but his usually jolly and humorous co-pilot cum ex-UKIP councilor Neil Hamilton, had calmly (some would say too calmly - as if possessed) told everyone Hubbard was a mentalist.

Rather than find a way of checking his story Colonel Holmes had him locked up.

Now there's only one thing she can do.

Yup, go round to his house, slag off his sexual prowess, apologize for calling him mad and ask him to join a secret mission to South America to investigate the company exporting the eggs.

McCulloch sighs, swigs some more Heineken and slaps the colonel round the head before agreeing to join her.

Well, he is out of booze and it's carnival season down there.

Cue stock footage of a radio-controlled plane, mixed with shots of holiday makers, children in big hats smoking cigars, Aris in a pair of obscenely tight trousers and white socks and we're off to the hotel.

But our heroes are being watched.

Hamilton didn't die in a mysterious plane crash (I forgot to mention that sorry) but is in fact running the alien egg export company and his got something big, throbbing and slimy just for Colonel Holmes.....

Your Gran's cum face. Possibly.

It's a race against time to rescue the by now showering Stella - c'mon she's fairly fit for an old bird - and save the world.

Will they discover the secret of Hamilton's link to the eggs?

Will Aris get his leg over with Holmes or will his quickfire one liners fail to ignite her passions?

Why has Hubbard stolen a plane without telling anyone (to find more Heineken apparently)?

And will they survive an audience with the pant wetting terror that is 'the alien cyclops'?

From writing for the famous Italian movie magazine Galaxy and co-authoring Four Flies on Grey Velvet to directing such classics as Lou Ferrigno's big screen debut Hercules, Argento contemporary cum shopkeeper Cozzi's career trajectory has been nothing if not interesting.

Obviously you'll have to check out a film book/blog that cares about annoying things like facts and interesting content if you want to know more.

But if you're in a rush there are three films in particular stand out from his resume that you should watch ASAP - the frankly indescribable Caroline Munro starring Argento/Three Mothers sequel/tribute The Black Cat, the Caroline Munro (again, does he have dodgy pics of her stashed away?)/David Hasslehoff space fantasy Starcrash - the film that his career catapulted into the stratosphere (sort of) - and this, his follow up sci-fi epic where he turned his dreamy eyes to Ridley Scott's film Alien for inspiration.

Luckily for him (and us) his producers agreed.

But how could anyone attempt to match the cinematic perfection that was - and still is - the Scott classic?

It's with this solution that Cozzi cemented himself as a true genius of modern cinema.

Forgoing the tight editing, oppressive cinematography and top-notch casting of his inspiration Cozzi decided to take the opposite route and with it's Shoddily shot, inanely plotted action scenes and a cast that appears to be sleep walking (yes my friends even Ian McCulloch), Contamination not so much pays homage to Alien than breaks into its house, strips Ridley's classic naked, bundles it in a cupboard and sticks its toothbrush up its arse before getting it's dog pissed and putting lipstick on it.

Under blue moon I saw you
So soon you'll take me
Up in your arms
Too late to beg you or cancel it
Though I know it must be the killing time
Unwillingly mine...Fuck me it's a massive egg!

Unfortunately audiences mistook this brave almost Cinéma vérité style for genuine cackhandedness and stayed away in droves whereas in the UK the films stark realism was mistaken for a documentary leading the film to end up banned as one of the notorious 'video nasties' that your granddad keeps harping on about.

That's right, you could be prosecuted for owning this back in the day.

But luckily not for making it.

Eventually the truth was discovered during the infamous Wikileaks saga and the film was rushed onto DVD to terrify a new generation.

And talking to that generation directly I'd just like to say can YOU find a more enjoyable egg based, exploding chest filled Eurohorror than this one?

I think not.

beastmaster.

At a loose end this week as I can't actually leave the house or attend any (really, really important) work type things as I've gone completely deaf (damn you ear- based psoriasis) so I'm cheering myself up with a few good movies.

And this one obviously.*

Nightbeast (1982).

Dir: Don Dohler (with a few scenes by Dave Geatty).

Cast: Tom Griffith, Jamie Zemarel, Karin Kardian, George Stover, Don Leifert, Anne Frith, Eleanor Herman, Richard Dyszel, Greg Dohler, Kim Dohler, Monica Neff, Glenn Barnes, Richard Ruxton, Bump Roberts, Don Dohler, David W. Donoho, Richard Geiwitz, Larry Reichman, Christopher Gummer, Dace Parson and
Richard Nelson.

"Don't call me Bertie!"

Space - the final frontier.

Well it would be if the final frontier were a collection of painted ping-pong balls attached to an old black sheet intercut with slightly out of focus footage from some old NASA videos but beggars can't be choosers which is probably why the 'spaceship' we see hurtling thru' this crap cosmos bears an unsettling resemblance to a Dinky truck sans wheels and painted silver.

Unfortunately the pilot of said craft is way too interested in the surrounding planets to notice the large baked potato hurtling toward him and in a flash of fireworks and kiddies sparklers the spaceship ends up irreparably damaged and  crashing to earth.

To the small town of Perry Hall in Baltimore to be precise.

Think Dudley but with (slightly) better teeth.

The (crash) landing is observed by a group of good ol' boy hunters in the woods who quickly notify the local sheriff, Jack 'The Hat' Cinder (Griffith reprising his role from The Alien Factor) before heading to the wreckage to investigate themselves.

It'll come as no surprise tho' when I tell you that as soon as they approach, a silver jump suited, big toothed beast jumps out and disintegrates them before heading off into the woods to wreak havoc among the locals - killing a couple in their home before murdering a guy (Uncle Dave - a pitch perfect performance from David W. Donoho) whose only crime is having a piss against a tree whilst driving his niece and nephew home.

Obviously the beast kills the kids too but to be honest I was more upset about Dave.

What's that circling Uranus? (sorry).

Realising a scary alien beast is loose in the town (to be fair he has previous) Cinder rounds up a posse - including his 'sexy' blonde deputy Lisa (Kardian - one time hairdresser to Dohler's Auntie, I kid you not) - to go look for it whilst the erstwhile wannabe deputy Jamie (Zemarel, most famous for his role as a bailiff in As The World Turns) heads out to check on his exotic 'lady friend' Suzie (Neff), who is trapped in an abusive relationship with local biker bad boy Drago (Dohler regular Leifert).

And so with everything - and (almost) everyone in place Cinder heads out to a local farmhouse where the creature was last sighted only for most of his trigger happy pals to be zapped into oblivion forcing Cinder to retreat back to the police station and ask local science type Dr Ruth Sherman (producer and actress Frith) and her assistant/son/secret lover and part-time coroner Steven (the legend that is Stover) for help.

Unfortunately Steven reckons they're fucked so Cinder begrudgingly orders the town be evacuated but not before asking local sharpshooter Jimmy Perkins (director Dohler obviously not wanting to miss out on all the fun) and his dad Bill (the brilliantly monikered Bump Roberts) to have one last shot (literally) at killing the creature.

Neff: 'exotic'.

More gun-fun ensues culminating with Jimmy actually managing to hit - and destroy - the creatures disintegration gun, disarming the beast just before he himself is killed.

And with that the creature turns tail and runs into the woods.

 

MONSTA!

 

With the remaining members of the police department - and the postman - beginning the evacuation of the town, Cinder is doing his best to persuade  the local mayor, Bert Wicker (the Internets first horror host, Count Gore De Vol himself, Dyszel) and his vapid assistant Mary Jane (Herman, latter day New York Times bestselling author of Sex with Kings, Sex with the Queen) to cancel a party he's holding for the visiting governor Lenny Embry (Ruxton) that's planned to be held that very evening but the pissed up pair are having none of it and quickly send the sheriff on his way.

 

Paddington.

 

Meanwhile, and with no concern about the scary alien stalking the town, Drago has decided to go and sort out his relationship with Suzie but in a fit of jealous rage inadvertently strangles her before riding off on his BMX with Jamie in hot pursuit.

He soon catches up with him tho' (well he is riding a Grifter) and proceeds to beat the shit out of him, leaving Drago unconscious and covered in mud, sweat and egg before heading back to the sheriff's office to see if anyone else is in need of a fucking good beating.

 

"Laugh now!"

 
Anyway, back at the alien-based plot we find Steven and Ruth busying themselves trying to find a way to kill the beast using any information they've gathered, which seems to be that he likes going to discos (his outfit suggests this), he's a shit driver (hence the crash) and judging by his teeth must be British which in all honesty doesn't give them much to work on but does give the creature a reason to attack their office where, after hiding in the basement Steven electrocutes the beast with some dodgy electrical wires causing it to flee the building whilst screaming like a Democrat on election night.

Too soon?

Back in the woods Cinder and Lisa have come across (not in that way, you've got a mind like a sewer) a mutilated body but whilst checking it for ID (and loose change) the creature stumbles out of the trees and tries to eat them.

Luckily the pair manage to escape but not before Cinder suffers some nasty chafing on his inner thigh.

Luckily Lisa is also a first aider so takes him to her house to patch him up and also have 'the sex'. 

Easy tiger.

 

"Is it in yet?"

 

Back at Mayor Wicker's house the party is in full swing, much to Jamie's chagrin, you see he's decided that if he's upset then no-one else should be having a good time either so after scoffing 14 scotch eggs he forces out a terrible fart then proceeds to tell everyone there's a poison gas leak from the nearby mine causing everyone to flee in panic. 

And in some cases flee in cars.

Wicker and Mary Jane, upset with how the evening has turned out, stay behind tho' (well it is his house) and decided to get drunk instead.

Which is fair enough I guess.

And with that Jamie heads back to the sheriff's office to see who else he can annoy.

"Can you smell petrol?"

Finding out that Jamie has left Wicker and Mary Jane home alone (and hoping for a furtive glimpse of lady garden, probably) Steven decides to go and bring them to the - relative - safety of the sheriff's office,  unfortunately the beast has beaten him to it, first bludgeoning Mary Jane to death in the basement before beheading Wicker in the pantry.

Which is nice.

It's almost the climax so needing all the surviving characters to be together, Cinder and Lisa soon arrive followed by Ruth and Jamie who suggests electrocuting the creature using the high-voltage cables from the nearby power plant, a plan that Steven, remembering his electrical-based shenanigans from earlier agrees with.

And with that they all drive out to the power plant to begin running the cables to Wickers house.

And maybe have a picnic. 

Still no idea why they just didn't lure it to the actual power station and kill it there tho' and save them the effort.

Unfortunately Drago is already there and hiding in the portaloo ready to pounce.

And pounce he does, first slapping Ruth and then kicking Cinder on his sore leg.

The rotter.

Luckily for our hero tho' Jamie turns up in the nick of time and shoots Drago dead.

 

Dave Grohl: tunnel or funnel?

Quickly returning to Wicker's house our heroes begin setting the trap but the creature is lying in wait....

Will they succeed in beating the beast? 

Did I mean that to sound so rude?

Will Cinder and Lisa's relationship work out?

Will there ever be another director as great as Don Dohler?

From Don Dohler, director of some of the greatest lo-fi sci-fi horror yarns ever made comes this semi-sequel to his 1978 hit The Alien Factor, featuring as it does much of the same cast (with a few returning characters thrown in), much of the same plot and luckily enough much of the same joy and absolute love of films and film-making that we came to expect from from the great man's work.

Seriously, what it lacks in polish, acting talent or budget (seriously it only cost $14,000 to make and most of that went on bottles of Just For Men, tho' they ran out when they got to Tom Griffith) it more than makes up for with sheer, unadulterated fun and charm.

Plus it gave good old Star Wars botherer J.J. Abrams his big break (and first onscreen credit) in movies for his fart-tastic synth score for which we can all be grateful.

Possibly.

I mean we wouldn't have The Rise of Skywalker without this.

And, bizarrely enough it ended up being classified as a "Section 3" Video Nasty in the UK  for some unknown reason (maybe Tom Griffith's buttocks were too sexy for British audiences?) meaning that although never prosecuted, it was a real pain in the arse to actually watch this as a kid.

Which quite honestly was probably a good thing as I really can't imagine serious 12 year old film fan me (I have previous) being able to actually appreciate the genuine love Dohler and co. had not just for film-making but the horror genre in general.

Plus any movie featuring George Stover is guaranteed to be at least 75% more enjoyable than one without him.

And to think, at this point in his career Dohler was happy just producing, handing the directorial reigns over to Dave Geatty (famous for his portrayal of 'man in bar' in The Alien Factor), luckily for the viewer Geatty had no idea what he was doing and after spending half the budget on a tracking shot that ended up being out of focus Dohler stepped in, giving us what is probably his greatest movie and the greatest scene featuring a flabby, pale man-ass ever committed to celluloid.

I'm looking at you Tom Griffith.

And to think he actually insisted on doing a nude sex scene, even going as far as asking (begging?) Karin Kardian to do it with him.

Surprisingly she agreed tho' I don't know if we should be thankful or not.

Answers on a postcard to the usual address.

Ready Brek.

 

Perfect Friday night fodder and the kind of movie this blog was made for....if you're not a fan of Dohler's work then be warned, you will be after this.

*Only joking it's fucking fantastic.

stryke it lucky.

Our youngest was out shopping with Mum t'other day and came back with this haul...

He's obviously showing good taste.

Anyway, this served as an excuse to show him some other classics of the zombie genre.

 

And this one obviously.

 

Anyway on with the review.

Zombie Flesh Eaters 3 (AKA Zombie 4: After Death. 1988)
Dir: Claudio Fragasso.
Cast: Jeff Stryker, Candice Daly, Don Wilson, Massimo Vanni, Nick Nicholson, Adrienne Joseph, Jim Gaines, your mom and some tramps.

Touchin' our bane will feel our rain on the gain. It's a nightlife, whoa! Runnin' hard if you want it or not! It's a wild life, whoa! You can't stop. You must go on! I'm living after death! Living after death! I'm living after death! Living... Living... LIVING AFTER DEATH!

Somewhere on a remote South Pacific island (or more likely in the kiddies play park behind the directors house), a scientific research team have been working on a cellular regenerative thingy in the hope of finding a cure for ingrowing toenails and bad breath.

In an attempt to get the local (glam rock frocked) natives onside, top science bloke Dr. Godfrey Soontodie has offered to use this frankly bollocks scientific discovery to help cure the voodoo witch doctor's daughter of her terrifying bunions.

As is always the case in these situations the wee girl unfortunately dies.

It's off screen tho' so it's not that upsetting.

"Get your clothes off and your lips puckered....these babies aren't gonna suckle themselves!"

Not too surprisingly the witch doctor takes offense to this news and decides to put the famous 'curse of the dead' on the island, its visitors and inhabitants.

Which is understandable if not a wee bit annoying for the rest of the tribe.

With a wave of his mighty (and very beefy) arms and a flash of homemade fireworks (but not alas a flash of old man thigh) literally all hell breaks loose.

Well it would if hell consisted of an old lady in an ill fitting Halloween mask and a pair of Austin Powers teeth seemingly faking an orgasm whilst dancing like Ian Curtis on crack.

It's your Nan at Christmas basically.

Laugh and indeed now!

It's not too much of a spoiler to say that the dead rise and kill everyone.

Well everyone that is except the lead scientists blonde moppet daughter, Jenny who survives the carnage thanks to a magic amulet given to her by her mother.

Well it's either actually magic or so cheap and nasty as to repel any self respecting zombie that sees it.

You can decide.

Flash forward 15 years later and a rescue team, led by the hunky Chuck (porn idol Stryker in a rare 'straight' role - ask your dad) is finally dispatched to discover why no-one has been returning their calls.

Well they took their time didn't they?

Also on the island (by some strange quirk of fate) is a by now all grown up Jenny (the late, great Daly from The Young and the Restless and Hell Hunters) accompanied by the slightly less attractive Louise (Joseph, mother of Birds of a Feather's Leslie), rentalunk Rod (Nicholson) and a couple of dirty mouthed tramps from West Bromwich.

"Put it in me!"

 

Sod all this character stuff tho' we want to know what Team Chuck is up to.

Well, whilst wandering around in a polystyrene cave left over from Michele Soavi's 'The Sect' (no really) our hero comes across the mysterious Book of the Dead.

Which is a change from my boyhood years watching him coming across a variety of buff arses whilst pulling a face not too dissimilar to the one your grandad pulled when he had that stroke.

But enough of the homemade erotica you want to know how Chuck knows that it's the real Book of the Dead and not a shoddy knock-off one from down the market.

Well it does have the words BOOK OF THE DEAD printed on the cover in big bold letters so I guess that clinches it.

You can see why Mrs Unwell doesn't trust me to buy stuff off Ebay can't you?

"Shite in mah tramp bearded mooth!"

Anyway back to the plot (for want of a better word) where Chuck, in a vain attempt to prove he can read unaided - but alas proving that he's never seen a horror movie - begins to shout random passages from the book (intercut with him shouting "Yeah baby! You're so fuckin' tight!" and pulling his cum face - well in my dreams it is) not realizing that the words, when read aloud are capable of bringing the dead back to life.

This'll be the same living dead that have actually been wandering around aimlessly for the past decade and a half from when that witch doctor read the same book, remember?

The writer obviously doesn't.

Here come the Belgians!

Within minutes our heroes (well the folk on screen) are running for their very lives as hordes (I say hordes but I mean dozens) of foul looking, underpaid extras and homeless folk begin to rise slowly from their shallow graves intent on tasting the legendary Jeff Stryker's ample meat.

Or something.

Meanwhile in the grassy bit behind the bike sheds, jumpy Jenny and co. have problems of their own (discounting the obvious ones like lack of acting ability and bad breath) when a lone, maggot covered tramp falls on them from behind a tree covering a hapless member of her party in sick.

Running away screaming they soon stumble across the deserted medical research facility (in reality the directors local scout hut) once run by Jenny's folks where they're soon joined (c'mon, the running times not that long) by Chuck who has managed to escape the scary flesh eaters by leaving his team to die whilst he sneaked away sobbing like a baby.

What a guy.

Bobby Davro, up the casino, Penrith 1985.....YESCH!

Luckily for the survivors this peaceful medical centre is chock full of weapons  giving the male cast members ample opportunity to pose in a topless sweaty manner whilst firing a variety of semi-automatic weaponry indiscriminately at various extras who are then expected to fall off roofs and be set on fire in the vain hope of securing a work permit or at least a new pair of shoes for their kids.

Ain't capitalism grand?

But the humans are fighting a losing battle as one by one they are overcome by the advancing dead.

Deciding the blow up the centre in an attempt to convince the zombies it's Bonfire night and thus giving the humans a chance to escape (plus they reckon it might add a wee bit of much needed excitement to the movie), sole survivors Jenny and Chuck make a break for the woods only to find themselves back in the very cave where the spooky witch doctor started the undead plague to begin with.

With the zombie army closing in and Chuck down to firing blanks, Jenny clutches the magic amulet, praying for a miracle.

Well it's either that or she's cursing her agent.*

Casual.

Will our toothsome twosome escape?

Will the UK rise up and actually take back control?

Will the zombie hordes attack Jenny and eat her whole?

Or will they spit that bit out?

Or will Chuck die whilst something slight and fairly incomprehensible happens to Jenny?

Go on, guess.

Best known for it's frightening amount of alternate titles (After Death being the most common and Zombi 4 being the easiest to spell) as well as being shot on sets constructed for Michael Soavi's 'The Sect' and filmed entirely using camera's and equipment 'borrowed' from the set of Bruno Mattei's 'Strike Commando 2' (which was filming nearby), Claudio Fagrasso's -AKA Clyde Anderson - Zombie Flesh-Eaters 3/4 is the near pinnacle of bad movie making made flesh, a cinematic black hole so dire that not even light can escape from it's spiny celluloid fingers.

Imagine the most dangerous and sordid unsafe sex act you could ever indulge in with the most foul, STD ridden, crab-panted person - or animal - you can, then imagine that as you're about to ejaculate (against your better judgement) you look down and realize that this pock marked, toothless crone you've payed £5 to probably catch sex death from is, in fact, your Gran.

You know...the dead one.

This is the effect After Death can have on a normal cinema goer.

But saying that, imagine how amusing it would be if you saw this happen to a friend.

And you just happened to have a camera handy.

So I guess you pays your money you takes your chance.

"Happy birthday Kenneth!"

Wise men say that you can't choose who (or what) you fall in love with tho' and like the three legged dog you should put down but decide to nail to a skateboard, After Death stays with you long after the DVD has been ejected, just like Hepatitis C or the feeling of shame you get after watching your parents home made porn.

Obviously just before realizing halfway thru' that you're actually the star, propped up on top of the wardrobe, drugged up to the eyeballs and wearing a dress.

But if like me you're one of the special few that actually enjoys Fragrasso's work - especially his top notch collaborations with Bruno ('Zombie Creeping Flesh' and 'Rats : Night of Terror') Mattei  - then jump in and enjoy.

I know I did.

But to be honest I really think that I should get out more.

*Tho' obviously not as much as she was after she left The Young and the Restless, when after being unable to find work ended up OD-ing in a rundown Los Angeles apartment on December 14, 2004, which kinda put the dampers on my 35th birthday I can tell you.