holy she-it.

We were chatting (excitedly) about Michael Reeves t'other night when I realised that Mrs Lamont had never actually seen this gem.

The She Beast (AKA Il Lago di Satana, Revenge of the Blood Beast, Satan's Sister. 1966).
Dir: Michael Reeves.
Cast: Barbara Steele, John Karlsen, Ian Oglivy, Mel Welles, Jay Riley, Richard Watson, Edward B. Randolph, Tony Antonelli, Peter Grippe, Lucretia Love, Kevin Welles and Woody Welles.

"What's troubling you? For running over a chicken
you won't get more than two years."

It's sunny Transylvania in the year of our Lord 1765 (probably around teatime) where the Secretary of State for Health of the United Kingdom James Murray (or at the very least a passable lookalike, poor sod) is stumbling thru' the bushes towards the local church.

It appears a wicked witch (with eyebrows that even angel voiced mentalist Susan Boyle would die for) has kidnapped his sister.

Goaded on by a pervy priest and a dwarf in what looks like a pound shop Santa suit, a squad of gypsies decide to confront the aforementioned witchy woman at her house.

By house I mean cave obviously.

No idea why I'm typing all of this, I could have just go back and deleted 'house' and replaced it with 'cave' and you'd be none the wiser of my mistake would you?

Anyway, Vardella (for it is she), is - quite rightly - bloody furious at having the ongoing news updates about Keir Starmer's fall from grace and various marches across the UK interrupted by a bunch of unwashed activists so decides to teach them a lesson by attempting to bite their faces off with her scabby, shite filled mouth.

But one - albeit crap-encrusted - woman can only do so much.

Fighting a losing battle, our hairy eyed chum is dragged kicking and screaming to the local lake where she's tied to the unholy Seat of Chastisement (Ikea, $849) before having red hot nails hammered into her hands and finally being dunked repeatedly into the dark, icy water until she drowns.

A wee bit like Noel's House Party but funny.

But before she breaths her last, Vardella curses the villagers.

And their descendants.

Spooky.

And quite possibly fairly important later.

Oh go on then...."Shite in mah mooth!"

Jumping forward two hundred years (it's cheaper for the costume department) we join the newlywed groovers Veronica (Steele - meow) and Philip (Ogilvy - easy tiger) who are enjoying a honeymoon driving holiday in the by now evil Communist-controlled Transylvania.

A little bit of politics...right on!

A country if Veronica is to be believed is "full of weirdies and werewolves." tho' from the evidence on show it appears to be chock-a-block with old men riding bicycles.

Badly.

Studly Philip, feeling a steamer coming on decides that they should rest up at the local hotel - Veronica insists on this at least, she still has grass burns on her knees from the last lustful pit stop - and soon arrive at the world renowned - it says here -  Kereszteződésénél Motel.

Whilst Veronica carries the luggage to their room Philip gets chatting to the incredibly lecherous and slightly alcoholic motel owner, Mr. Ladislav Mortimer (Welles of The original Little Shop Of Horrors and Lady Frankenstein), asking those obvious holiday questions like what are the best local places to sight see, which of the town teens are the easiest to get drunk and molest plus what the motels dish of the day is.

Which any sane - or slightly sexist - reader will know is obviously Barbara Steele.

Suddenly the bar door bursts open and the whole place is overcome by the stale smell of egg, sweat and failure as the famed demon hunter and faded aristocrat Count Von Helsing (a pissed Karlsen) makes his grand entrance.

Taking a break from hanging around the local kiddies play park he spotted the car outside and decided to introduce himself to the holiday makers in order to regale them with tales of vampires and the like.

Well it's a living I guess.

Insert cock here.

All this talk of sex and violence (but mainly violence) is fairly entertaining but only goes to make Philip realize how long it's been since he experienced the real thing (3 hours but who's counting?) and, making his excuses drags his wife back to their room for a wee bit of the old in/out.

The romantic dog.

Cue dozens of luscious close-ups of Barbara's milky white and incredibly smooth topside of breast as he jiggles on the corner of the bed.

Unfortunately Philip and Veronica's sexy shenanigans (and ours) are rudely interrupted by Mortimer sweatily - and noisily - wanking outside their window.

Barbara Steele, up the casino, Wigan, 1967......YESCH!

Furious, Philip asserts his manliness by kicking the shite out of the hotel owner and leaving first thing the next day without paying the bill.

Driving along the deserted country roads and enjoying a giggle after seeing the funny side of someone sneakily cracking one off over a half dressed Barbara Steele (look we're all guilty of it) the couples Volkswagen inexplicably goes out of control, weaving from side to side before narrowly missing a lorry full of chickens and ending up in a lake.

The very lake that the angry villagers drowned Vardella centuries before.

Double spooky.

Steele: Your granddad did. Twice.

Philip, with the help of the lorry driver, manages to make it to shore, but Veronica is nowhere to be seen (hint: try the passenger seat or behind the sofa, that's where I usually find stuff) leaving Philip to pass out whilst sobbing like a wee lassie.

Aw bless.

Taken back to Mortimer's and put to bed, Philip is unaware that a second body has been dragged from the lake and is currently dripping all over the sprouts in the kitchen.

And it isn't Veronica.

Can you hazard a guess as to who it is?

Yup, it’s Vardella, back from her watery grave and all set for her revenge.

And a fair amount of mooth shite-in.

I can dream can't I?

Luckily schoolyard stalker and ghost buster Von Helsing (remember him?) is quick on the scene to fill Philip (phnarrr) in on the back story and point out to anyone who'll listen (which is no one frankly) that "Vardella has returned and she's chosen to possess Veronica's spirit".

Crikey.

"Put it in me!"

If this wasn't drama enough, back at the hotel Mortimer is drunkenly attempting to molest his niece (Love, from the Pam Grier classic Naked Warriors in a blink and miss it cameo) whilst Fred the chicken van owner is worried the police will arrest him for causing the accident with the car in the first place.

Remembering that this is, in fact a horror movie and not the Archers the Count has a plan that will not only restore Veronica’s identity (and shapely figure) but also lift the witch’s curse once and for all.

All he has to do to accomplish this is stick his pinky finger in her eye which will  release the maggots trapped in her skull and therefore bring Veronica back to life.

Or something.

Honestly I couldn't really follow the plan partly because I was still recovering from the sight of a dripping wet Babs.

Anyway if the Count can manage this feat it means he can then chase her around town and hopefully persuade her to sit back on the big chair to get redunked in the lake.

Look I didn't write this shite so don't email me that it doesn't seem to make any sense whatsoever.

Savile: The return.

But with the local fascist (OK Communist) boot boys on their tail and Mortimer hungry for ass (man or otherwise) will our heroes be able to destroy the witch and repair the trusty VW before before Vardella does any bad stuff?

Some really shite artwork yesterday.

The first movie from boy genius director Michael (Witchfinder General, The Sorcerers) Reeves, The She Beast may look like a slipshod low budget shlocker but peel back the thin net curtain of shoddiness and there's a real gem underneath.

Unfairly dismissed by arsey Reeves fans and the type of folk that talk loudly about film in cinema foyers, it's true that the film is crudely made and cursed with a (occasionally misjudged) vein of comedy that is in danger of capsizing the whole proceedings at any moment, but as far as debuts go, it's gloriously watchable and hideously silly at the same time.

Steele: No excuse needed.

Shot on the cheap - and on the sly - in Italy after the wily producers had managed to convince the local authorities that they were making a documentary (therefore enabling them to apply for the lowest location rates) and with a screenplay (of sorts) written by Reeves but under the alias of Michael Byron (to make the crew look larger) the director cast his best mate in the lead role and shot all of Steele's footage in a single 22-hour-long period as to reduce the actress's cost, you must admit that it takes a director of rare talent to produce something as enjoyable as it is under those conditions.

And enjoyable it is, from it's camp as pants cast to it's moments of sly humour and gore that culminates in a 15 minute (!) car chase tribute to the Keystone Cops The She Beast never outstays it's welcome and, like the awkward best friend you only used for sex when you were younger or the local Tesco home shopping van, never fails to deliver.

Plus it's fairly short which is always a bonus.

A bit like this review.

And my mum.

nemod syad.

Girls are away at a dance performance so me and the boychild have a lads weekend planned where we eat crisps, drink pop and watch only the best movies.

Mausoleum (1983).
Dir: Michael Dugan.
Cast: Marjoe Gortner, Bobbie Bresee, Norman Burton, Maurice Sherbanee, LaWanda Page, Laura Hippe, Sheri Mann, Julie Christy Murray, Chu Chu Malave and Gene Edwards.

 

There's some strange shit goin' on in this house!

Like any good horror film worth its salt we open on a windswept graveyard where the young - and frighteningly dog faced - Susan (bony kneed Murray in her only film role outside those shorts she did to pay her way thru' college) is mourning her recently deceased mother as her posh tottie-like aunt Cora (Logan's Run and Swinging Barmaids star Hippe who killed herself shortly after making this movie - take from that what you will) pats her on the shoulder uncomfortably whilst offering to buy her ice cream and a pony to replace her dearly departed parent.

Why do I never get offered ponies?

Oblivious to all the bribery being offered (and wanting a unicorn probably - girls are never happy) Susan legs it and soon takes refuge in an old superimposed rainswept and spookily lit mausoleum (bearing her family name - Nemod - I'm sure her family must originally be from the village Nilbog featured in Troll2.) that is in no way at all scary or foreboding.

No seriously it's not, it actually looks for all the world like it's been outlined in Sharpie the matte work is so shit.

As a spooky fog rolls from its gates Susan pricks her finger on a crown of thorns hanging outside before entering the tomb to be confronted by a shadowy figure with unkempt nails who offers her blessed relief whilst making a passing pedophiles head explode.

Which seems legit.

I can see your house from here Peter.

 
Thru' the power of editing and rudimentary dissolves we're suddenly in the present day (which is the past now....scary eh?) where we find a now adult Susan (ex Playboy bunny Bresee in a performance that's all tits and teeth but not much else which at least means she fits in right at home here) living in a massive house albeit one filled with way too many windows and staircases than is needed and happily married to the ferret-like business bloke Oliver (Starcrash 'star', B'-movie god and once the world's youngest ordained preacher, Gortner) and obsessed with the colour brown for some reason.


Seriously, the house, her clothes, the plants - everything in this movie has the colour palette of dried cack.

Except when a demon appears then the fucker is lit up like a disco.

But I digress.

All seems normal (if you ignore everyone's stilted body language and speech patterns obviously) until that is Susan starts to act a wee bit strangely - or is that just begins to act?

Answers to the usual address.

Oliver thinks he has the perfect answer to Susan's woes so decides to take her disco dancing at the local nite spot where they enjoy (well I say enjoy but to be honest they just look dead inside tho' at least Bresee tries her hardest to look hip n' happening as she pulls a classic 'Le disco duck face') frugging away to some turgid instrumental disco track that even Mike Read would balk at for being too shit.

And he wrote the UKIP Calypso if you can remember that far back.

Luckily (for us) the whole ordeal is cut short when a drunken beardy man (who I was convinced was original Grizzly Adams star Dan Haggerty but was in fact Gene Edwards who played him in the 1990 remake/sequel) tries to molest Susan on the dance floor whilst Oliver is on the phone causing the couple to call it a night and head home.

Unfortunately the drunk bloke follows them but after a wee bit of shoving he wanders off to his car in order to drunkenly drive home, probably killing a few kids on the way.

But hey it's the 80s and no-one cared back then.

Suddenly and without warning - if you don't count the spooky score - Susan's eyes begin to glow green as she stares at the car for what seems like an eternity (thanks in part to the eye effect being animated over a still) before causing it to burst into flames, trapping and burning weirdy beardy to death inside.

"Eye hen!"

 

And from then on things go from bad to worse as poor Susan experiences angry mood swings and night sweats before turning into a full-blown psycho when she starts offering Ben the sleazy gardener (council estate David Hess, Sherbanee, who's probably been in other stuff but I can't be bothered checking) fresh cups of coffee whilst stroking her breasts then having sex with him in the garage and finally murdering the poor sod (to death) with a garden fork.

Aunt Cora is next on the death wish list, slashed to death whilst being levitated over the staircase after popping round with a cake.

Luckily no-one seems to notice until Oliver wakes up one night to find Susan sitting in a chair spouting gibberish and sporting a pair of comedy horns on her now donkey like head.

Terrified he runs down stairs and quickly calls their old friend and family psychiatrist Dr. Simon Andrews (Burton from Simon, King of the Witches which scarily is actually sitting on my desk as I type this) to ask for help.

It seems that Susan had a few mental health issues as a child due to her dad dying whilst trying to exorcise the demon that had possessed her mother.

Turns out that according to family legend a demonic curse has been passed down the female line of the Nomed family ever since some bizarre incident involving a crown of thorns (what? another one? - maybe this is important) and a sausage roll way back in 1692.

Anyway with all this demonic possession shite going around and with the movie hitting the halfway point it's time for a wee bit of comic relief so enter (roughly behind the bins) the Farrell's cleaner cum housemaid Elsie (Sanford and Son's Page who bizarrely enough at the start of her career, while performing as a burlesque style stripper in Missouri, was billed as "The Bronze Goddess of Fire" because she could light cigarettes with her fingertips*) who - in either a piece of post-modern comedy genius or ill advised racial stereotyping spends her time rolling her eyes whilst shouting out stuff like:

"There's some strange shit goin' on in this house!"
 
"No more grievin'. I'm leavin'!"

And the classic

"Great googily moogily!"

Whilst running about in high-speed effects whilst comedy 'wah wah' music plays in the background.

I'll not comment.
 

Skulk.

With time - and anything remotely resembling logic - running out, Andrews contacts an old friend and colleague of his, the boyishly barnetted Dr. Roni Logan (Mann) for help.

Which is lucky cos she knows loads about demons and the like.

Bizarrely all she does is rereads the family diary as it turns out that the way to kill the demon and Save Susan is actually written in it.

In English and everything.

Yup it appears that the pesky crown of thorns from earlier is important to the plot and all Adams has to do is place it on Susan's head whilst she's not looking.

This will in turn force the demon back to it's tomb giving our heroes time to then place it on the tomb itself locking the creature inside.

Sorted.

Andrews probably skipped that bit but makes amends by phoning Oliver to warn him that when he returns home from work not under any circumstances to have sex with his wife in the bathroom as her breasts may grow teeth and bite him to death.

Which is fair enough.

"Are you the farmer?"

Meanwhile back at the house an Hispanic bloke (Malave who scarily actually had an acting career of sorts, appearing in everything from A Force of One alongside Chuck Norris to multiple roles in the Barney Miller TV show and starring alongside the 'statuesque' Dona Speir in Fit To Kill) is delivering plants and the like to Susan.

But that's not the only thing he wants to fertilize and he's soon in the kitchen phoning his boss to say he'll be late back to the garden centre as Susan seductively flashes her ample breasts at him.

Don't worry tho' as there's no time for any more uncomfortable sex scenes as Susan has t go shopping for some shit occult based art before the movies climax so she quickly makes the guys head melt before going heading to the mall.

No really.

She actually goes shopping and steals some sub Boris Vallejo fantasy art** - she also kills a bald man by dropping him on a spiky sculpture that just happens to be sitting conveniently  on a picnic table before heading home for a well deserved bubble bath.

It's interesting to note that the mentalism and murders isn't the thing that sends Oliver over the edge but the crap art scattered around the house so to prove his manliness he storms into the bathroom to confront his wife.

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

His anger soon subsides tho' as Susan steps out of the bath and into his arms but as the pair embrace Susan begins to change.

It seems that the demon is aware that Andrews is attempting to steal the crown of thorns from the mausoleum at end its reign of terror.

 Will Andrews succeed?

Will Oliver get eaten by the terrifying tittie teeth?

Will Susan actually put some proper clothes on?

At the height of the 80s low budget horror resurgence film maker Michael Dugan (director of the classic Raging Hormones, Youtube shorts creator and the man behind a little something called Chubby Chasers - go figure) decided what the world needed was a new scream queen to rival the likes of Jamie Lee Curtis, Adrienne King and Linnea Quigley so to that end decided to unleash the 'buxom and beautiful blonde actress' (according to IMDB) Bobbie Bresee upon the world in his second feature - after the 1976 family comedy Super Seal - Mausoleum.

Now don't all thank him at once.

A living embodiment of everything terrifying about the 80s - big boobs an even bigger blonde barnet and teeth so white they could blind you, Bresee is the main focus of the movie and Dugan structures the whole endeavor to showcase her talents as she runs the emotional gamut from happy to sad to sexy via sleepy and maybe bashful and it's her powerhouse performance that makes the movie so compelling.

Only joking.

He cast her cos she didn't mind getting her kit off.

But she's not the only one.

If there's a chance that a character can appear topless Dugan grabs it - from 'star' Marjoe Gortner pulling angry cum faces on a faux fur rug to the mightily manbreasted Norman Burton seductively taking a phone call in his bed, we're not even spared the sight of Maurice Sherbanee's sweaty pot belly being on show as he wanders around with the bottom of his shirt unbuttoned rubbing it seductively as he lusts after Bresee.

None of this nudity would be that bad tho' if any of the cast actually looked happy doing it but as it stands they all just appear nervous and wishing they were anywhere else but there.

I just sat watching hoping and praying that the director would realise that if the actors look uncomfortable pretending to have sex or being naked then maybe he'd see that we the viewer will feel uncomfortable watching.

Poor sods.

Except Sherbanee obviously - he seemed to be reveling in his new found freedom.

Creepy bastard.

"Shite in mah mooth!"

This isn't helped by the cast actually coming across as quite likeable - Gortner is his usual inoffensive self whilst Burton and the rest appear to be enjoying themselves (mostly) and Bresee comes across as a likeable enough person out of her depth both onscreen and off which means at time rather than reeling in terror at the horrors onscreen you're cringing like a parent watching your offspring mess up their lines in the school nativity.

Hopefully not whilst naked tho.

Its saving grace tho' is the fantastic make-up FX work from the late great  John Carl Buechler whose career spanned Friday 13th Part VII to Hatchet and everything in between - the gore effects (especially the head explosion and melting man) are top notch and it still gives me a warm feeling to see a full prosthetic bodysuit on screen even if at times it looks more Space Precinct than Pazuzu.

Fairly mad, sometimes bad - frustratingly so at times - Mausoleum is a harmless and fairly pain free way to spend an evening provided you have enough beer and crisps at hand plus for anyone who's ever wonder what a school disco would look like if lit by Mario Bava then the possession scenes will answer that question for you.

And there isn't much higher recommendation than that.












































* She also swallowed fire and touched flaming torches to her naked body during her act as well as appearing on Rupaul's Supermodel Of The World Album and playing Rupaul.s mum in the Back To My Roots video.



**Tho' let's be honest he did produce some utter wank himself....like this Star Wars inspired piece for example:

bungle bonce.

Celebrating Star Wars Day by revisiting THE best sequel not featuring Adam Driver....So enjoy and...

Os Trapalhões Na Guerra Dos Planetas (AKA The Bunglers In The War Of The Planets, Brazilian Star Wars 1978).
Dir: Adriano Stuart.
Cast: Pedro Aguinaga, Renato Aragão, Carlos (The Jackal) Bucka, Wilma Dias, Carlos (The Kettle) Kurt, Tereza Mascarenhas and some other folk I've never heard of.

Opening with a huge car chase that would put the makers of Top Gear to shame, the 'heroes' of Os Trapalhões Na Guerra Dos Planetas (top urine-stained Brazilian comedy tramps 'the Bunglers') are on the run from what looks like a ton of disgruntled Pikies suffering from narcolepsy, seeing as a huge number of them appear to be driving their cars into rivers for no reason.

It seems that one of the bunglers (the oldest yet least stinky one that wears the piss yellow sports jacket and pervert hat) amusingly named Didi, has slept with the head pikies missis and his friends/family/cousins are in hot pursuit looking for revenge.

After about twenty minutes of 'wah wah' guitar and exploding dune buggies the bunglers hide behind a convenient rock and wait for the bad men to get bored and leave.

"sniff mah coat hen".

That night, whilst the bunglers are sleeping, a turtle with a candle glued to its shell shuffles thru their camp and, in a stroke of comedy genius two of the bunglers think it's a ghost!

Oh how we laughed!

But just as you think it can't possibly get any funnier, the turtle manages to set light to the third, fattest bungler!

While he’s running around in circles going "Woo! woo!" whilst slowly (and probably very painfully) burning alive a passing spaceship touches down near their campsite.

Aboard is the handsome Prince Flik (no doubt referring to his almost Farrah like locks) who tells the four comedy legends (but not the turtle) that he needs their special 'talents' to retrieve a vital part of the fabled 'brain computer' and stop an evil space tyrant named Zuco from destroying his home world.

What? were Torchwood busy? I mean it's not like the plot was too far fetched for them.

A spaceship yesterday.

Our heroes, given the choice between jail time for forcing themselves on old ladies or a trip into space quickly agree and jump aboard Flik's starship where they meet his Red Setter-like, new romantic styled co-pilot Chewbacca (or Dave, I'm not sure).

He (it?) and Flik have an in depth chat in reverse Portuguese before Dave blindly stabs at a few buttons and prepares for take off in a blaze of coloured lights and sweet wrappers not seen since the heady days of Crackerjack.

"Hello Dave?"

Touching down on Flik's home planet, they immediately encounter what looks like an army of hooded midgets attacking a group of desert dwelling Arabs outside a series of stone portaloos.

It's like Disney does ISIS but with fewer beheadings.

Possibly.

Spoiling for a fight the comedy quads rush in and beat the shite out of anyone within punching distance in hyper-slow motion that makes The Matrix 'bullet time' look like the cheap trick it is.

Every time one of our heroes kicks, shoves or stumbles the same clip is shown again and again, accompanied by a hellish 'doo doo' disco score.

It's like mind melding with Jimmy Savile.

Runner up of the Lindy England lookalike contest (ask your mum).

About three days into the slo-mo spectacular the villain of the piece, the evil Darth Zuco appears from nowhere and drags the beautifully big hipped blond bombshell Princess Myrna (who?) from out of one of the portaloos before legging it across the dunes to what looks like a waiting gold vibrator (with wings).

Whilst this is going down (phnar), the warring aliens get bored and leave but not before blowing up one of the toilets with a painted air freshener cum grenade (as in an air freshener disguised as an explosive, not a grenade filled with man yoghurt, tho' that would be interesting) possibly as a political act lost on British viewers.

"Touch my big black helmet".

What isn't lost on viewers from dear old Blighty tho' is the effect that the explosion has, causing as it does four fairly attractive (in a cruise ship entertainer way) Lycra clad ladies to come running out of the smoke like a cheap(er) version of Benny Hill's Hill's Angels.

If that were at all possible**.

The bungling buddies start rubbing their filthy hands with delight but spoilsport Flik starts shouting about having to rescue the princess.

Relax girls....they're single.
And old enough to be your granddad.

Agreeing with Flik (and obviously fancying a wee bit of manass) Didi attempts to drag the others away from the babes with a promise of letting them borrow his hat.

Seriously, why would I make this shit up?

Things get very tense before a compromise is reached and the ladies offer to go with them to the local space disco to look for clues.

Let's be honest tho'...it's still more entertaining than this shite.

Arriving at the local nite-spot (which looks to all intents and purposes like Barry Noble's in Nottingham circa 1985) the bunglers manage to persuade the DJ to stop polluting the airwaves with farty sci-fi warblings and play some hi-energy disco instead but when the alien clientèle begin to 'get down' to the hot tunes the jolly jokers start beating them up.

Just like Dudley then.

For Didi this seems a step too far, he leaves the disco to buy a space laser gun, accidentally murdering five innocent bystanders in cold blood whilst 'testing' it and blowing up Flik’s landspeeder along the way.

If that wasn't enough, in a fabulously misplaced piece of slapstick he finds he has no money to buy the gun so he shoots the salesman dead and steals it.

Ha ha ha.

A normal Saturday night in Dudley.

Now the film begins to unravel and self destruct into an almost unwatchable display of violent comedy, giant birds and poverty row effects as our merry band decide to hit the trail in search of the princess and the evil Zuco.

All manner of random threats are thrown at the group from invisible monsters to flying oranges (yep....killer fruit......oh my sides) via a badly matted 'giant' spider and the aforementioned bird beast.

"Pluck off!"

Every time they encounter a new peril everyone throws their arms in the air, jogs on the spot whooping then runs away.

And I do mean every time.

Every.

Single.

Bloody.

Time.

For around half an hour.


Eventually (and obviously bored waiting for our heroes to discover his lair) Zuco sends them an open invitation to his house to exchange their half of the computer (admit it, you'd forgotten about that hadn't you?) for the captive Myrna.

What follows is a series of bluffs and double bluffs that would confuse even a very unbluffable (is that even a word? cos it should be) man.

The outcome is that Didi ends up in a box (not a coffin unfortunately) and Flik is left holding a green painted dwarf in a frighteningly lifelike Myrna mask.

Everything is now set for the final battle.

Thank fuck.

Didi scores first blood by freezing Zuco and then spending twenty five minutes dancing with his frozen body, popping a selection of funny hats on him, booting him up the arse etc. whilst his buddies fight for their lives against an elite squad of enemy shock troops.

Seriously tho' it's not as exciting as it sounds.

Just as the good guys break thru' the enemy ranks Zuco thaws out and tells everyone that Myrna is dead.

Laugh now.

It seems that whilst Zuco's scientist were making the mask for the dwarf to wear they accidentally disintegrated her.

No seriously.

Flik just shrugs his shoulders and sighs before pointing out that under his planets laws Didi’s squeeze, the seductive Loya must take Myrna’s place as Flik’s betrothed.

She leaves Didi’s side and gets straight down to business with Flik, leaving poor Didi to travel back to with nothing to look forward to but a tearful wank and a Pot Noodle.

Which is a wee bit depressing really.

Duck off.

What can one possibly say in regard to the almost perfect example of high brow Brazilian comedy that is Os Trapalhões na Guerra Dos Planetas?

As an introduction to the many fascinating aspects of Brazilian culture the film is a Godsend, featuring as it does the countries three major obsessions; dancing badly, awful polyester jackets and fighting.

Which is three more than Belgium is famous for.

And what of the comedy greats that are/were The Bunglers? 

Well believe it or not these comedy cnuts starred in over 15,000 films in the 1970s and 1980s, becoming Brazil's biggest export (outside STD's and child labour that is) before being hunted down by the UN war crimes committee in 1997 and sentenced to death by firing squad  in late 1995.

So if you enjoyed their hi-jinks in this, their biggest grossing (and most expensive) movie and don't mind laughing at dead folk, there should be enough online to keep you going for a few months at least.

The Bunglers: They've got something to put in you.

The rest of you can sleep soundly knowing I watched it for you.

You lucky people.

*I assume this is the case from what I've heard, it's not available in Europe yet so I wouldn't know for sure, pirating is bad don't you know.








**Obviously I don't count the wonderful Nola Hayes in this blanket statement because as a 12 year old watching Benny Hill she was by far the least scary of the bunch and not at all cheap.

baked being.

It's Easter Sunday.

This film is set on Easter Sunday.

Result.

Oh and before we begin....

The Being (1983).
Dir: Jackie Kong.
Cast: Martin Landau, José Ferrer, Dorothy Malone, Ellen Blake, Kinky Friedman, Kent Perkins, Ruth Buzzi, Marianne Gordon, Bill Osco (as Rexx Coltrane), Roxanne Cybelle Osco and Jerry Marin.

Laurie: "But if this thing is actually killing people, then why is the mayor trying to keep it quiet? "
Detective Lutz: "Potatoes."

Welcome to Pottsville, the potato capital of the good ol' US of A where our story (well it's more of a sketch really) begins with a disheveled teen is busy running thru' a high-tech nuclear waste facility (impressively played by the old scrapyard behind the directors house) as he attempts to escape from an as yet unseen assailant.

The chase appears to go on for hours - seeing as it starts in broad daylight yet continues into night time -  but luckily it's not in real-time meaning it's only a few (on screen) minutes before  we can breathe a sigh of relief as the troubled teen finally finds an abandoned car (not too sure if that's nuclear too) and drives off into the night.

Unfortunately as he's tuning the radio for the local traffic news a huge claw rips thru' the roof and proceeds to tear the poor kids head off causing the car to crash into a nearby potato warehouse.

Obviously the police rush to investigate this spud-based bust up but can find no sign of the driver or his head.

What they do discover however is that the entire interior of the car is covered in blood and green slime.

The towns top tec - and our hero for the evening - Detective Mortimer Lutz (producer and husband of director Kong - Osco, which if nothing else goes to show exactly who he had to fuck to get in the picture) is baffled by the lack of evidence so heads off to the toilet leaving local mechanic Steve Soontodie to carry on examining the wreck.

Unfortunately he neglects to check in the boot which unsurprisingly is where a big monster (or 'The Being' as he's known to his pals) is hiding.

Ain't that always the way?

As you can guess he pops out and eats the mechanic whole.

And I've just realised that I can't do the 'they usually spit that bit out' shtick seeing as I worded the last sentence wrong.

Arse.

"Are you looking at my bra?"

After a few minutes (it obviously wasn't a poo) Lutz returns to find the boot open, a huge pile of slime on the floor and the mechanic nowhere to be seen save his tool belt lying discarded on the floor..

Being a great detective Lutz reckons Steve just got bored and went home and with a shrug of his shoulders decides to do the same.

Taggart this ain't.

Whom I kidding it's not even Scots Squad.

Anyway there's a murderous monster based mayhem to be getting on with so to this end we're quickly introduced to local lass Brenda Slagg who is all dolled up and waith for her boyfriend Jeff Studley to arrive so they can head to the local drive-in and rut like bunnies on the front seat of her car.

Who says romance is dead?

As the pair are getting down and getting it on as the kids say they singularly fail to notice the green slime oozing thru' the dashboard until it's too late and the gunk has manifested as a scaly clawed arm that tears the pair limb from limb, their screams drowned out by the screams on the big screen.

Within minutes the beast - sorry The Being - has ripped the head off a stoner, shouted out the ending of the film and shit in the popcorn before disappearing into the night leaving poor Lutz with yet another unexplained killing or three to investigate.

Sitting in the couples car to look for clues our hero ends up with his arse covered in slime yet none the wiser as to what is going on so with that he heads home for a tearful wank and a Pot Noodle in the hope of figuring out not only what or who is killing folk but how he ended up as sheriff of a town built on spuds and how he'll managed to get his jeans clean for the next day.

But he's not alone as something - or some being - is watching him from the shadows.

Hearing a strange noise as he slowly slips his tight bums out of his shrink to fit jeans Lutz heads outside to investigate only to be pounced on - OK pounced at - by the creature but Lutz is too quick the beast and manages to run away, jumping across a railroad track in front of an oncoming train to lose the beast.

Again I've no idea how long he was running as the scene begins in the dead of night yet ends in broad daylight.

The fucker must be really fit.

Or Pottsville has really short days.

Either works for me.

Martin Landau tries to count the cost of his divorce.

Now totally convinced that something bad is afoot Lutz heads to the local diner where his college sweetheart Laurie (ex Missis Kenny Rogers, Gordon from Rosemary's Baby) works alongside the toothsome yet scarily pillowed Jenny (Glasgow's own Blake from The Last Starfighter and Hill Street Blues who really should have way much more to do here as she's fab) in order to convince her to let him walk her home as he reckons that some crazy shit is going down.

She smiles at him with the smile of a mother to an idiot child and agrees, with a happy face and a skip in his step Lutz heads off to meet with Mayor Gordon Lane (Ferrer - paying for a new pool) to discuss how to deal with the killings.

Oh and to ask for a mop and bucket to clean up the slime.

Talking of cleaning up the slime he also has to contend with the mayor's wife Virginia (Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In legend Buzzi) and her "Clean up the town of pornography" campaign that she's started due to the fact that a massage parlour may be opening on the high street.

On arriving at the mayor's office Lutz is surprised to find him in the company of the famed toxic waste specialist and advisor to the state of Idaho on regional and environmental safety Dr. Garson Jones (Space: 1999’s Commander John Koenig himself, Landau, still paying a shit load of alimony to ex-wife Barbara Bain - hence his appearances in stuff like this and The Dark) who is currently explaining that the toxic gunk being empty into the local water supply is in no way harmful to the townsfolk or their potatoes.

Hmmm....I'm not too sure.

"Can I have a cup of coffee please?" "Neigh bother!"

Obviously writer/director Kong felt that there wasn't enough strange shit going on so later Lutz retires to bed early to catch a few ZZZZs before meeting up with Laurie only to experience a lucid dream of Pee Wee's Playhouse proportions as he imagines sharing a romantic plane journey with Dr Jones that's cut short not just by the mayor's wife flying by on a broomstick shouting "Arse!" but also by the beast/being dragging Jones out of the plane to his death.

Waking in a cold sweat and with a noticeable erection, Lutz realises he's overslept and quickly heads out to meet Laurie who by this time has decided to walk home alone, stopping only to stare at local crazy lady Marge Smith (Oscar winning star of Peyton Place Malone) who has taken to wandering the streets in a onesie since her son Michael has disappeared

Interestingly her son vanished just before the spate of killings started.

Could this be related?

Frankly by this point I don't care.

And to be honest I don't think the writer does either.

Back to the plot (and I use that term loosely) and Lutz has caught up with Laurie just as she reaches her car but as she's about to get in a large spunky cushion is thrown at her from off set, causing the pair to scream and run back to the diner.

No hang on I think that was meant to be the monster.

Never mind.

After a game of cat and mouse so tense it puts the bit in Alien with Dallas in the air vent to shame the pair finally trap the creature in the freezer next to the waffles before ringing the mayor to come and take a look but who'd have guessed it the beast liquefies and escapes down the drain before he arrives leaving him little choice but to berate Lutz for being a bit shit then returning home to the dinner party cum music recital organised by his wife.

Meanwhile the beast is busying itself eating three local men who've sneaked into the building earmarked for the massage parlour in order to torch it.

Which is nice.

If totally irrelevant to the plot.

"Put it in me!"

Anyway, arriving home the Mayor is shocked to find that the creature has hitched a ride on the roof of the car so as anyone would do in that situation he accelerates out of the garage (and thru' the doors) leaving his poor wife standing on the lawn looking bewildered as he drives away.

Bewilderment soon turns to horror tho' - or it may be ecstasy or trapped wind, I can't really tell - when the beast wraps its forked tongue around her skinny
bird-like neck and kills her.

To death.

Obviously bored with being sidetracked from the action Laurie decides to go have a chat with the aforementioned Marge at her house but is shocked to find the toilet seat covered in the same slime the creature leaves everywhere.

Marge however is unconcerned saying that it's just Michael making a mess around the house as kids do.

Could Michael be the beast after ingesting radioactive goo?

Was he mutated in the womb due to contaminated water?

Was he the creatures first victim?

Frankly we'll never know as this plot thread is quickly dropped in favour of Lutz, Garson and Laurie heading off to the dump to hunt the creature down before getting a wee bit scared and heading back to town for a quick snack and a chat.

Crisps eaten and fizzy pop drunk Lutz heroically locks Laurie in a jail cell before heading back out with Garson to hunt down the creature again, this time armed with guns.

Guns to kill a creature that can turn into liquid.

Go figure.

"Laugh now!"

 

After a bit more chasing around and shooting - and a moving speech about radioactive waste - the pair decide that they've definitely killed the creature so head off to a local warehouse to celebrate but, surprise surprise, the beast isn't dead and quickly kills Garson before biting Lutz's ankle.

Limping and alone our heroic cop must face down the beast armed only with some huge containers of sulfuric acid and a massive axe.....

Same shit, different smell.

The first movie from director/producer/screenwriter Jackie Kong The Being is a trashy, lo-fi throwback to the atomic monster movies of the 50s - with added gore and breasts - that makes up for its lack of logic and plot by just being great fun to watch.

I must be getting soft in my old age.

From Martin Landau's OTT scientist to Ruth Buzzi's uptight comedy conservative via Ferrer's drunken, potato obsessed mayor everyone plays it perfectly - true they may all appear to be in different movies but it actually works even Osco's charisma free  and obvious uncomfortable lead performance feels right, even down to the way he clumsily walks in his slightly too tight jeans.

But to be honest I think his character choices may have been intentional when you look closely at his career.

Originally a producer/director whose 1970 film Mona the Virgin Nymph was one of the first 'erotic art films' to receive a national theatrical release in the United States, he went on to produce Flesh Gordon (1974) as well as the comedy porn musical Alice in Wonderland: An X-Rated Musical Comedy (1976) as well as a stage version of the very same film in 2007.

In addition to his porn output he also produced Kong's output during the 1980s - and between this and the rather splendid Blood Diner is where his surreal - and sometimes downright silly - sensibilities totally compliment Kong's lo-fi John Waters-esque directing choices perfectly.

Tunnel or funnel?

To be honest the only thing that could make this any more enjoyable was if the kills were intercut with musical numbers but you can't have everything.

Plus any movie where the director casts her daughter as a toddler who may or may not get eaten by a slime encrusted monster during a cheerily scored Easter Egg hunt gets top marks as far as I'm concerned.

Sub-atomic bare arsed genius.

operazione paura - frightfest edition.

Traveling up to Glasgow for FrightFest over the next few days? 

 

Then enjoy this mix of deep red disco, sinister samples and bizarro beats to help your journey into darkness...

 

 

rock the dagmar.

Spent the Christmas holidays eating too much, drinking too much and watching way too many films in the hope of working thru' the huge slush pile in the corner.

The Devil's Female (AKA Beyond the Darkness, Magdalena: The Devil Inside the Female. 1974) 

Dir: Walter Boos.

Cast: Dagmar Hedrich, Werner Bruhns, Michael Hinz, Peter Martin Urtel, Rudolf Schündler, Karl Walter Diess, Günter Clemens, Elisabeth Volkmann, Eva Kinsky, Petra Peters, Ursula Reit, Helena Rosenkranz, Toni Treutler and Anton Feichtner.

"Is she possessed by the Devil or by sex? Or is it an obsessive compulsion to make lascivious gestures and bestial motions?"

It's Friday night in hip 'n' happening downtown Bavarian night and local lady of the night - and part-time Rocky Horror cosplayer - Brenda (Guildenstern's best mate Rosenkranz best known around here for her top turns in the porn as education hits Schulmädchen-Report 7. Teil - Doch das Herz muß dabei sein and Vergiss beim Sex die Liebe nicht - Der neue Schulmädchenreport 13) is heading home after an evening of cheap booze and clumsy reach arounds.

Probably.

After knocking back a fat bloke in a pork-pie hat who offers he £5 for a wee cuddle she's surprised to find an old man, Joseph Winter, crucified on her front gate (and wearing nowt but a huge nappy) as she's struggling to find her keys.

Which is nice.

My mum's taking the divorce well...

Enter - roughly and from behind - the second best cinema cop duo (behind Spitz and Moran obviously) Kommissar Bob Snatch and his trusty assistant Inspektor Jack Flatley (TeeVee stalwart and what happens when you buy Robert Shaw off Wish Diess,better known for his portrayal of Jack Harris the classic Kleine Bank mit schlechten Noten and Clemens from Alle meine Töchter - you're welcome) who discover - after a quick autopsy, the films quite short - that the victim was actually a fairly well known Satanist who's been offed by some other Satanists for, um, reasons.

More importantly to the plot tho' is the fact that he was/is the legal guardian of his granddaughter, the sweet and innocent Magdalena (Hamster cheeked Hedrich from the Brazilian based love story Férias No Sul and fuck all else - unless you count those films your uncle made when he went to visit 'friends' in Germany obviously) who lost both her parents in a terrible accident when she was 5 years old.

Loved by her classmates at the exclusive boarding school she attends - and lusted after by the local hunk in the fashion boutique where she has a Saturday job, Magdalena is a perfect example of a happy - if a wee bit of a mature looking - teenager.

Albeit one that wears smashing blouses.

But all that changes when during the schools Ash Wednesday Disco (no, really) organized by the schools head, the frighteningly eyebrow-less Madame Stolz (Volkmann, best known for  the German absurd comedy series Klimbimand and as the voice of Marge Simpson in the German dub of The Simpsons) and her mousy yet strangely attractive assistant Miss Preis (Kinsky best known for Testament and Ruf der Wälder - no me neither), Magdalena suddenly falls to the ground soaked in sweat and foaming from the mouth whilst the sound of a single buzzing fly echoes annoyingly on the soundtrack as the school's token lesbian couple look on longingly licking their luscious lips.

Due to this being a cut - well totally butchered - version of the film this sexy subplot will never been seen again. 

Which is a pity if I'm honest.

Lesbe friends....homo we won't!

As suddenly as the convulsions/sexy tics started they completely subside leaving Magdalena wondering why she lying on the floor covered in sweat with her nipples protruding thru' her shirt whilst Madame Stolz and Miss Preis consider the fact that getting a bunch of teenagers drunk was maybe a wee bit of a bad idea.

And with that they pack Magdalena off to bed for the night.

It isn't too long tho' before the entire school is awakened by an hysterical, sweat soaked (and underpants-less) Magdalena screaming at the floors whilst trying to kill Madame Stolz pet pooch Enoch before attempting to stab Ms Preis with a butter knifeand finally collapsing (again) in an arse revealing heap on the floor leaving Stolz no alternative but to call her friend Dr. Berger (Actual actor-type Urtel best known for Bürgerkrieg in Russland - as in a TV movie version not the actual Russian Revolution, a German version of Othello and To Commit a Murder).

Berger isn't too concerned tho' and explains that "Sweaty arse revealing psychotic episodes can happen to almost anyone!" before giving her a sedative and heading back home to enjoy a shifty wank whilst dreaming of the poor girls glistening bum crack.

The next morning an oblivious Magdalena has no recollection of her freaky frolics the previous evening so is fairly surprised when Madame Stolz explains what has happened.

Oh and finally tells her the news about her granddad at the same time obviously.

Two birds and all that.

With Berger in tow, Magdalena prepares to leave for her granddad's funeral but at last minute she shouts "Fuck off!" to everyone and bounds over the school wall disappearing into the trees only to surface later that night when she accepts a lift from a long-haired lout who, when she falls asleep, drives off into the woods and attempts to rape her. 

This culminates in the guy getting his wanking arm broken in several places whilst Magdalena is later found by the police and taken back to school where the evil spirit within her takes the form of a black cat and starts throwing old boxes, furniture and wine bottles around in the attic whilst Magdalena writhes about naked in her sleep. 

The noise of her arse skidding across the bedroom carpet alerts Ms Preis that something is wrong so, whilst Madame Stolz tries to catch the cat vandal, she goes to comfort Magdalena only to be confronted by the Satanic schoolie bouncing on the bed shouting "I wanna fuck you dirty whores! Put it in me! Put it in me!"

Which is nice.

Luckily Dr Berger is hanging about in the lobby so he quickly gives her another sedative in the hope that this time it'll work.

Ms Preis tho' has other ideas and calls on the friendly neighbourhood priest Father Jess Conrad (Suspiria's Prof. Milius himself, Schündler adding some much needed cult film cred to the proceedings) to have a wee chat with Magdalena regarding her bizarre behaviour.

Luckily he's known her since she sang in the church choir as a little girl so is more than happy to help and to this end invites Magdalena, Ms Preis and Madame Stolz to the church for tea and biscuits.

But not of the soggy variety obviously.

Well not yet.

Things don't go quite to plan tho' as no sooner has Magdalena stepped out of the taxi when she starts accusing Conrad of being a dirty nun fucker whilst demanding that she takes communion "not in my mouth but in my pussy."

Interestingly Conrad at no point denies fucking nuns but does draw the line at the communion suggestion which goes to show that he's a man of integrity that can be trusted.

And to prove this he locks Magdalena up in his office and gets on with his churchy business giving her ample time to piss on his sofa, tear a Bible in two, same thru' a door and head over to the cemetery in order to have a chat with her dead - and buried - granddad.

As is now the norm when she finally regains her senses Magdalena has no recollection of what's just happened and with the movie lurching drunkenly toward its climax Preis, Stolz and Berger have no alternative than to turn to the modern day science of Electroencephalography (or EEG as we laymen call it).

Conrad begrudgingly agrees but only if he can join in and wave a Bible about occasionally. 

Oh and fuck a - dirty - nun.

Probably.

Nice and kneesy does it....

I reckon that I should point out that between all the swearing and sweaty snatch shots the film keeps cutting back to Kommissar Snatch and Inspektor Flatley questioning a fuzzy haired tramp caught at the scene of the crime but this subplot is a wee bit shit so I wasn't really paying that much attention.

Saying that tho' these bits are worth it just for Helena Rosenkranz's fantastic fashions.

Oh and the bit where Mrs. Baumer's hunky son Brian gives chase to the tramp.

Comedy gold. 

 

The lights are on.

With this in mind (as in the science stuff not the tramp chasing obviously) Magdalena is taken to see the famed brain boffin Professor Peter Falk (German dubbing legend and voice of Sherlock Hemlock in the German version of Sesame Street, Bruhns) who alongside his studly young assistant Dr. Stone (Hinz - Uncle Quentin himself from the 70s TeeVee version of Enid Blyton's The Famous Five) promise to find out why she's so mental and hopefully cure her so she can meet a nice man and get married.

Cue loads of footage of Magdalena with a colander on her head intercut with eye gouging scenes of Magdalena and Stone riding horses, bicycling in the countryside and playing ping pong as the pair gaze longingly at each other.

Because there's absolutely nothing unethical about a 30 something doctor lusting over a 17 year old mental school girl is there?

Luckily the director thought that all this lovey-dovey shite and keep fit stuff would be likely to induce a coma in anyone (left) watching so occasionally he has Magdalena go shopping with Falk's nurse Shirley (Peters) and a random old woman who lives in the house with them (Treutler).

Everything seems to be going well with Magdalena keeping her clothes on and not swearing at anybody but all that changes when late one night the evil spirit returns, forcing Magdalena to sneak out to the local pub, strip naked and seduce a groom to be and his best man (a great cameo from Chas and Dave, possibly) before forcing them to fight to the death for a chance to shag her before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

OK in a really choppy dissolve.

Tickler.

 

Next up it's the turn of Dr. Stone to feel the spirits wrath as Magdalena begins to rub his cock thru' his action slacks whilst promising to let him touch her thigh before shouting rape whenever he even looks at her and finally announcing that she will only have sex with him if he kills Professor Falk. 

And with that proclamation she slinks off to her room and strips naked so as to make it easier for the spirit to shag her up the bum....

 

What your mum really gets up to on Bingo Night.

Will Stone fall completely under Magdalena's spell and kill his boss?

Will the crucifixion sub-plot ever make any sense?

Will science or religion prevail?

Will the movie pull out all the stops for an amazing and terrifying Exorcist style climax or will Magdalena - after a stern talking to - just cough up a toy snake that Stone gingerly steps on?

Go on, guess.

I love it when people display their kids artwork.

What can you say about smut peddler extraordinaire Walter Boos frankly threadbare excursion into the supernatural other than it's exactly the wrong kind of movie you want to be caught watching in a hotel room alone?

Seriously, the thought of someone breaking in and finding me viewing this abomination was way more terrifying than the thought of being murdered in my bed as at least that way I wouldn't have to suffer the embarrassment of facing my loved ones later.

It is bloody enjoyable tho'.

With its whore-baiting, hat wearing, nappy crucifying opening the movie hits the ground running and whilst Karl Walter Diess being dubbed by trailer voice-over legend Richardson Green (or was it Donald Leroy LaFontaine? I can't be arsed checking) not so much breaks the fourth wall rather it beats it into submission before pissing on its shoes, the film as a whole ticks all the right exploitation boxes.

Violent murder?

Check.

Inadvisable attempts at portraying youth culture?

Check.

Saucy virgin heroine in clothes a size too small?

Check.

Gratuitous lesbian teasings?

Check.

Overweight, mustachioed Germans?

You get the idea.

It's just a pity then that around the 35 minute mark the whole film grinds to a halt as you realise that other than the thrill of hearing Dagmar Hedrich swear whilst flashing her well kept fanny (and occasionally her - admittedly peachy - arse) at everyone the film has literally fuck all else to offer.

But scarily enough that's part of its charm.

 

Font.

You know it's shit, you assume that the cast and crew know it's shit but fair play to 'em they carried on regardless so the least you can do is give them and hour and 14 minutes of your time.

Especially if the alternative is The Great Christmas Pottery Takedown on Channel 4 whilst knocking back a fifth glass of Pinot noir and third bag of prawn cocktail Skips.

So damning with faint praise then?

Well it is what I do best.