she-it.

Still counting down to The Rise of Skywalker (well it is Disney's last chance to completely destroy my childhood - and around my birthday again too, joy) and with so much emphasis place on 'stronk wimmen' in the new movies I reckoned it was time to feature a film that firmly places the fairer sex at its centre.

The Force, being female yesterday.

Sorry, just wanted to see if I could actually type that shite without slightly dying inside.*



She (1982)
Dir: Avi Nesher.
Cast: Sandahl Bergman, David Goss, Elena Wiedermann, Gregory Snegoff, David Traylor, Gordon Mitchell, Quin Kessler, David Brandon, Andrew McLeay, Harrison Muller Jr and some camp tramps.

"What's a bomb?"

It is the 23rd year after 'the cancellation', of what I'm not too sure but most likely of the cheaper than your mum animated TV show that opens the movie with it's crayon and crepe paper history of the apocalypse.

Probably.

But nuclear annihilation isn't the scariest thing on screen, oh no. 

That'll be the fact that it's only taken 23 years for the sad remnants of humanity to return to dressing up like pound shop new romantics, fighting with swords, flamethrowers and chainsaws instead of guns and riding around on ponies like a collection of underfed rag and bone men.

The only thing that hasn't change is the bizarre obsession with minor celebrities.

In this case it's Arnie's ferret faced Conan sidekick, dancer cum actress Sandahl (daughter of famed Space:1999 scientist Victor) Bergman who, until someone more famous comes along is currently worshiped as a living God.

Which is nice.

Meanwhile the common folk spend their days wandering around the local market in the hope of picking up cheap meat off-cuts, dodgy phonecards and pirate DVD's.

Not really so different there then.

It's in one such market that we meet the duo who will act as our heroes for the next 90 minutes (tho' it will seem much, much longer), a Chuckle Brothers for the 21st century, blond bombshell Tom (Goss, last seen working as a production assistant on that hit show The Bachelorette) and his pube haired (almost) comedy sidekick Dick (Muller Jr. from The Final Executioner) who, within minutes of arriving on the scene are viciously assaulted by a small group of hooligans clad in the contents of a child’s dressing up box.

Albeit a child with a swastika obsession. 

That'll be me aged 6 then.

"To me!" "To you!"

Within a matter of minutes they've beaten our dynamic dunces senseless, stolen all the Yorkies from the sweet shop and kidnapped Tom’s sister - wait for it - Hari (Wiedermann, Wiedermann does whatever a Wieder can).

Anyone else would probably be distraught but good old Tom is frankly unaffected by the whole thing and decides, along with Dick to go and pick up a prostitute to drown his sorrows.

By drown his sorrows I obviously mean to have the sex with.

Unfortunately being an evil whore she drugs the duo, chaining Dick up in the shed before delivering Tom to the immortal 'She' (that'll be Bergman then) to use him as she sees fit.

"Are you looking at mah bra?"

Because of (or despite his) lack of manbreast, She dispenses with her usual shag and stab routine deciding instead to submit Tom to the ominously named Path of Blood, a tiny obstacle course built in a child’s sandpit that consists of a series of sharp wooden stakes thru which Tom will be led blindfolded whilst being kicked and fondled by a dozen Granny panted Suzi Quatro lookalikes before being abandoned to die in the wasteland.

Which seems a little extreme but what do I know?

Luckily, for the movie if not for us, the next morning he’s rescued by a token British homosexualist and part time science man named Stony Tark (McLeay) who whisks Tom away to his secret laboratory where he can be told various plot points that may, or may not come in useful later.

You know, important stuff like the fact that his sisters has been grabbed by the Norks (no sniggering) and that the only person that knows the how to get their hands on those pesky Norks (no seriously) is She herself.

And with this Tark promptly disappears from the film, never to be seen again and leaving Tom with no alternative than to rescue his buddy Dick from the hands of the evil hooker and kidnap She in the hope that she'll show them where those infamous Norks hang out.

Seriously you couldn't make this shit up.

Tho' scarily somebody (I'm looking at you Avi Nesher) did just that.

Anyway, making his way back to the village - and wearing a child's army helmet as a disguise - Tom punches out the prostitute (isn’t that extra?) and rescues Dick from a life of pig based humiliation before settling down to plan their next move over a nice cup of tea and a biscuit.

You know the convention was going downhill when drunken ex-weathergirl Ulrika jonsson tried to violate Clash of the Titans star Bubo with a chocolate dildo.

Meanwhile it's the time of the month where She has to endures the gruesome sounding Trial of Blood This involves She dressing up in her best bed-sheet and fighting a variety of wind up robots, Roman Centurions and a Frankenstein monster secreted in huge wooden crates in a cave haphazardly filled with barrels, televisions and old washing machines.

Or as we call it in the UK, West Bromwich.

After a slight and uninspired slow fight the bloodied and battered She ventures deeper underground where she meets an old lady who urges our heroine to strip naked and enjoy a long hot bath in the healing waters of a conveniently placed spring.

As She gently caresses her breasts and ample thighs the old woman mysteriously intones...

“You have passed through the cycle again, Goddess. But the prophecy still stands. A man will come to claim your heart. For him you will break your vow. Through him, you will be destroyed.” 

At this point I really think I should point out that although this scene sounds as tho' it could be really important at some point further in the movie it is, bizarrely never referred to again.

Yup that's right.

At no point does She fall in love or end up destroyed. A wee bit muddy yes but that's about it.

Got that?

Great, now let's move on and catch up with Tom and Dick who succeed in kidnapping She from her bedchamber before riding off into the local play park with a bunch of butch Amazonian warriors, led by She's best pal Shanda (the mighty Kessler, in truth the only real reason for watching) in hot-tish pursuit.

...Inside Dave Lee Travis' mind...

After what seems like hours of galloping and lame wise-cracks inter-cut with random shots of muscly thighed women on horseback our trippy trio come across (you know the drill) a band of mutants wrapped in dirty bandages and all clad in big nappies called the Nukes who, after a wee bit of polite conversation decide to execute the threesome in a handy trash compactor.

Luckily Shanda soon turns up and using a mix of pantomime swordplay and unbridled sex appeal defeats the Nukes before any harm can befall Tom, She or Dick (which in his case in a crying shame).

With She untied and looking as leathery as ever and Tom and Dick surrounded by angry Amazons you'd be forgiven for thinking the quest to save Hari (remember her?) would be over but, oh no, She takes pity on Tom and Dick and helpfully points them in the general direction of Nork Valley before letting them on their way.

Unbeknownst to our plucky pals She has decided - along with sexy Shanda - to follow the  follow the pair from a distant so as to see what wild and wacky adventures they may have.

Shanda: Five fingers, never touched the sides.

Wandering deep into the woodland that conveniently sits opposite the park Tom and Dick discover an idyllic country house occupied by a group of handsome (in an 80's Italian way) young men and big haired women draped around a swimming pool in togas and reciting bad poetry to each other.

Their leader (Italian genre stalwart and ex-Caligula Brandon) upon noticing the newcomers charmingly invites them to join the group for dinner.

And maybe a side order of the sex.

Our heroes, obviously forgetting what happened last time someone offered them a shag excitedly accept the offer and spend the evening stuffing their grubby faces with turkey sandwiches and crisps, dancing badly to cheesy 50's ballads whilst wearing ill fitting tuxedo's.

Just a normal night in Blackpool really.

Your mum and sister at my house last week.

Drunk on Happy Shopper Vino and stuffed full of cake Tom and Dick collapse in a stupor hoping to sleep off the nights excesses but wouldn't you know it, the party revelers are really a tribe of flesh eating werewolves intent on scoffing ours heroes whole.

Although I've heard that they spit that bit out.

Just as all seems lost who should turn up but She and Shanda, annoyed at missing a free meal and ready to kick some hairy arse meaning our fantastic foursome live to ride another day.

Or at the very least get captured by someone else about 10 minutes later.

Probably.

With thank you's (and a few lustful glances 'tween Dick and Shanda) exchanged they soon arrive at a quaint old town, seemingly untouched for years save for all the walls, doors, windows and very slow dogs being covered in some fairly well designed (for a child) retro-communist style posters emblazoned with the word Godan and what looks like a picture of a young Eli Roth complete with glowing green eyes.

"£6.50??!!?? I can almost hire a whore for that much!"

They don't have much time to discuss the merits of feltpen vs. crayon tho' (or even Roth's more recent acting roles) as She and her pals are suddenly captured (surprise!) by a group of elderly monks who take them before the great god Godan (Robotech voice artist Snegoff) himself.

Realizing that Godan is a wee bit of a mentalist, used to getting his own way, full of self importance and with little respect for anything other than his own needs (hang on...are you sure that this isn't Eli Roth?) Tom and Dick quickly pretend to be disciples and are soon re-enacting the rape scene from Aftershock whilst setting fire to each others trousers, totally ignoring the fact that She and Shanda have been dragged off to the dungeon in order to have their sweaty, leather-clad bodies whipped and poked for Godan's amusement.

"Put it in me!"

After enduring, oooh minutes of torture (and chaffing) Godan decides that the best way to interrogate She would be to have her taken to his room and sex the information out of her (what this information is I've still no idea).

Unfortunately (for him) this is the last straw as far as his dedicated priestess Sylvia is concerned, seeing as she's been waiting on him hand and foot for years without even a hint of a penis going her way and she reacts in the way that most women would when spurned by someone who has absolutely no interest in them.

Yup, she buries a large axe into his chest.

Obviously poor Godan wasn't expecting this but manages to summon the last of his supernatural eye powers to strangle Sylvia with a handy curtain cord.

And what pray tell do She, Tom and Dick do during all this?

That's right, they just stand around ineffectually whilst trying to remember if they had anyone else with them.

Or in Bergman's case desperately trying to remember Arnies phone number in the hope that he can pay for her ticket back to the U.S.

Finally remembering that Shanda is still tied up downstairs (as in to a rack in the dungeon, not having trouble with her ovaries), our motley crew quickly untie her and head of deeper into the woods leaving a small group of old men with nothing else to do but stare at each other and wonder where their next meal is coming from now that their leader is dead.

Well, it's good to know that American foreign policy survived the apocalypse even if fashion sense and basic storytelling didn't.

Sandahl farted in the Jacuzzi and it was an eggy one.

With She and Tom enjoying the countryside and Shanda and Dick involved in some playful flirting no-one notices the slightly foul smelling gas emanating from a nearby bush until it's too late. Our heroes are soon overcome by the smell of egg, gravy and shame as a gas mask-clad hulking figure gleefully watches the scene unfold from a safe distance.

Waking with a terrible headache and his trousers on backwards Tom frantically searches for the others soon finding Shanda unconscious on a nearby rock, beads of sweat collecting in her mighty cleavage and glistening like tiny diamonds.

Possibly.

Aroused and ready for action the pair call on their comrades but to no avail.

It's as tho' they've vanished into thin (but still stinky) air.

But we know the truth don't we?

Yes, they've been kidnapped (I know who'd believe it?) again but this time it's by a bearded transvestite giant and a pale-faced old man on his way to a Scarlet Pimpernel party who've decided to put She and Dick in huge plastic bags in order to experiment on them in their greenhouse cum private love nest.

I think.

Not that Tom is too bothered tho' seeing as he's decided to head along to Norksville on his own.

Selfish sod.

On further examination, the Amanda Knox bedspread that Noel Edmond’s purchased from Ebay turned out to be a fake.

Not wanting to dwell on it for too long suffice to say that yet another oh so daring and improbable escape (this time involving a gas fire and a rope) ensues that reunites our remaining heroes outside a burning shed.

But not for long because although the land of the Norks is within sight Shanda, obviously bored of the by now frankly ludicrous script and missing the feeling of a big powerful animal between her thighs volunteers to head back home (alongside the trannie for reasons best known to herself) to get reinforcements or something leaving She and Dick to go it alone.

The Jimmy Savile/Kurt Russell cloning experiment was more successful than even William Roache could imagine.

 By this time Tom has reached the Nork fortress, all he has to do now is cross the bridge that leads over a dangerous minefield and knock on the front door.

Easy eh?

Well it would be if the bridge weren't guarded by the mighty Xenon (America's top comic Traylor), a frighteningly jumpsuited genetic mix of Michael Barrymore, Snake Plissken, Des Lynam and a caffeine addicted paedophile. 

And that's before he opens his mouth.

His secret weapon?

Following whoever attempts to cross the bridge whilst doing bad impressions of  Groucho Marx, the Cowardly Lion and James Cagney.

Despicable.

Tom being a man of few words and even less patience reacts in the only way he knows, yes attacks him with a sword, chopping off his arms and legs.

Which would be fine if the severed parts didn't grow into more versions of Xenon.

Before long there's a whole army of irritating impressions following the poor sod to Norksville.

"Hey big fella how'd you fancy a wee bit of mooth shite-in?"

 Scratching his head with the swords blunt end Tom has no idea what to do next, so it's lucky for him that She and Dick soon arrive, cutting thru' the creepy comedians and tossing them into the minefield before they can regenerate.

And with that problem out of the way all that's left to do is sneak into the Nork city, win Lord Norks trust and rescue Hari.

But how are they supposed to enter the city unmolested?

Just then She notices a poster flapping in the wind.

It appears that Lord Nork is having a competition to find the best fighter in the world and the winner gets to meet him and his new priestess Hari.

And guess what?

The competition starts today!

Ladies and gentlemen....Destiny's Child!

 

It's three against an army as Tom, Dick and She prepare to battle the odds and rescue Hari from a fate worse than death.

Or at the very least from having to marry a man who insists on dressing in tinfoil with a lampshade for a hat to stop him getting infected by radiation.

Tho' compared to actually sitting thru' this shite that seems like a more humane option.

From the undoubtedly twisted (re: drug addled possibly) mind of "one of Israel's all-time greatest filmmakers" (he's won awards and everything) via the pen of  H. Rider Haggard (creator of Allan Quatermain and arguably the whole 'lost world' genre), She is a 90 minute threadbare freak show of half arsed awfulness that plays out like a series of rambling comedy sketches written for a rejected  Benny Hill Mad Max parody by Barry Cryer after being forced to ingest meth and children's tears whilst listening To Rick Wakeman's The Burning score on a warped cassette.

And that's just the pre-credit sequence.

With it's swastika clad villains, sexy Jewish girls kicking arse and it's lead characters habit of just strolling in and taking land that doesn't belong to her the movie is obviously some kind of Mossad sponsored mind control project aimed at doing something to somebody (I'm sorry but conspiracy type stuff just isn't my strong point) add to this the fact that America co-funded the movie only adds to the theory.

I mean come on, if any other country had produced a toxic shite of this magnitude Uncle Sam would have declared war on them within minutes.

 Sandahl Bergman: Cheaper than your mum, dirtier than your gran and considerably older than both of them.

After completing the movie, director Avi Nesher was flown out of Italy under cover of night back to Israel to continue his career as a 'serious' film maker, a career that bizarrely continues today, his last film The Wonders, his third with actor Adir Miller opened to critical and financial success becoming one of the biggest hits of 2013.

True it was shot entirely in Hebrew and only shown in Israel but it still made more money than the last movie I worked on so who am I to judge?

Director Nesher is sneaked out of Italy after death threats from livid Ursula Andress fans.

Of the rest of the cast only a few survived a massive cull by secret service agents in the months after the film was released. It appeared that someone didn't want the movies secrets made public.

Luckily Bergman used the influence of her friend the former governor of California Arnold Schwarzenegger (with whom she shared the actors first ever love scene) to defy the many attempts on her life whilst co-star David Traylor wasn't so lucky.

Nice flat tummy, face of fuckness.

After a booby trapped canned laughter machine exploded during a sold out show at the Detroit comedy store showering the actor with sharpened giggles Traylor was left paralyzed.

It was only thanks to a mysterious benefactor (said to be one of the films composers Justin Hayward) that Traylor was inducted into the top secret and highly experimental Robo-comic programme, emerging some years later as Mr. ZED the Robot Comedian whose first appearance in the UK was strangely enough alongside Jim Davidson, who it was once rumoured had once worked undercover in Palestine for MI6.

A rarely seen pic of a post movie, pre surgery Traylor, here being looked after by comedian cum scientist Kelly Monteith.

But all that is for the history books and whilst today we may have peace in the middle east unrest and terrorism have raised the ugly heads elsewhere in the world. So who knows? perhaps it's time for the erstwhile Mr. Nesher to revisit 'She Who Must Be Obeyed' to give hope to a new generation.

Plus I'm sure Allison Mack would be grateful of the work right now.

















































*I couldn't/didn't.

pakula lives!

With the Mark Gatiss/Steven Moffat update of Dracula looming on the horizon and after spending a weekend immersed in the original Universal Monsterverse thanks to a bumper showing of classic creepies on the Horror Channel I thought it was about time I had a rewatch of one of THE greatest monster movies of all time.

Fact.

"Children of the mooth....what shite they make!"

Zinda Laash (AKA The Living Corpse, Dracula in Pakistan - 1967).
Dir: Khwaja Sarfraz.
Cast: Rehan, Ala-Ud-In, Asad Bukhari, Nasreen, Latif Charlie and Deeba Begum.

The kindly, yet oh so slightly hatstand Professor Jimmy Tabini (60s superstar Rehan who most of you may know from Hell's Ground) has spent his whole life (so far) trying to create a magical medicine that will quite literally hold back death.

And get rid of those eggy stains you get on the underside of your pants.

Unfortunately for him - but not for the movie obviously -  things go a wee bit awry when takes a swig from the bottle to test it and suddenly drops down dead.

As luck - and plotting - would have it his cutesy cardie-wearing assistant Gayle (Nasreen best known as Girdhari's Mom in Tel Malish Boot Polish) is on hand to quickly carry him to the cellar and pop his body in a handy coffin.

Which is nice, if a little abrupt.

But almost immediately after nailing the coffin shut Gayle notices a spooky scratching noise coming from within.

Putting it down to wolves she retires to her bed for the evening little realizing that the home-made medicine has had a bizarre effect on the good doctor.

Well more bizarre than appearing to kill him stone dead obviously.

It seems that the powerful potion has turned Tabini into one of the undead causing him to rise from his grave whilst dressing in Bela Lugosi's hand me downs.

Well I hope they're his hand me downs seeing as Lugosi was buried in his cape and suit - I'd hate to add grave robbing to Tabini growing list of misdemeanors.

So imagine Gayle's surprise that night when she comes across the resurrected Tabini on her way to the toilet.

The surprise soon turns to terror tho' as he greets her by chomping down on her neck.

Something tells me he's become a vampire.

Oh yeah - the movies title.

Sean Connery farted....and it smelled of haggis. And shame.

Being based on Bram Stoker's book it's not long before someone called Harker turns up - in this case the handsome Dr. Aqil Harker (Bukhari) tired and hungry after a trip to the local Londis (probably to see if they still have Orloff And The Invisible Man in stock) who arrives at the Professor’s humble abode looking for food and lodgings.

But not, i hasten to add a vampiric encounter.

Tabini resplendent in all his dinner suited glory creepily greets Aqil and quickly takes him upstairs to 'show him to his bedroom'.

I don't know about anyone else, but when men of a certain age have rushed me upstairs we've at least discussed payment first.

But just as the movie is seeming to head into the territory of 'the homolust' much feared by Pakistani cinema a photo of  Aqil's fiancée falls from his overnight bag not only to prove that the doctor is as straight as they come but to give Tabini a chance to show us his pervingly lustful look.

So we're all winners really.

Portishead: The pikey years.

Maybe Aqil could have avoided trouble when sleeping in strange old men's houses by wearing a picture of his missis in a heart shaped badge on his lapel but then maybe he fancies a wee bit of camp count action for a change.

And with that thought he makes his excuses and goes to bed only to be woken  from a restless sleep some time later by the spooky sound of singing emanating from the cellar.

As is the way in horror movies (yup even those with sporadic musical numbers) Aqil grabs his dressing gown and heads off to investigate soon coming across (and who would blame him?) the professors assistant - clad only in a sheer, granny style nightgown - sexily undulating and generally being a saucy minx in an attempt to seduce him.

I say.

Your mum yesterday.

Unable to resist the sight of a full hipped dusky beauty in a flowing nightie Aqil is soon not only under Gayle's hypnotic spell but a servant of the undead Professor Tabini.

A man of science now possessed by an evil supernatural force.

"I fang you!"

Will Aqil's family notice he's missing and mount a search party?

Will his Fiancée Janet - overcome with grief for her missing man - begin singing in the street for absolutely no reason? 

And how will she manage to free him from Tabini's - and more importantly the foxy vamp vixens - power?

Unashamedly borrowing wholesale from (and in the case of James Bernard's score for Horror of Dracula - blatantly stealing, alongside an incredibly strange version of La Cucaracha.) the Hammer and Universal Dracula cycles by way of a Bollywood style make over - the wonderfully weird Zinda Laash is exactly what you'd expect from a film entitled 'Dracula in Pakistan'.

Switching seamlessly from classic Gothic terror to song and dance scenes at the drop of a cape, the movie also adds some unique touches to vampire lore.

Whereas the 'western' Dracula has the ability to shape change (mostly into a bat in screen versions) Tabini is more likely to hop into his car for a quick getaway.

Same goes for Dracula's use of his 'persuasive' mind powers, whereas we're used to the Count's hypnovision, Tabini is more likely to just beat the shit out of people in order to get his own way.

And it's these scenes of wanton violence alongside dance routines dubbed "Too sexually provocative" by the censors that led to the film's almost banning only getting a release after the sexier scenes were cut and then with an 'X' rating,  the first ever in Pakistan.

No mooth shite-in allowed!

And it's this mix of the familiar and downright bizarre that make this movie such a joy to watch, plus Nasreen is probably THE most exotic - and not to mention sexily swivel hipped - vampire babe to ever grace the silver screen.


Genius from start to finish.

And Rehan gives the greatest ever performance as Count Dracula in any movie ever.

Fact.

stuff....

....you find stored on SD cards you come across in the street

(Part One).

china in your han.

Not long now till The Rise of Skywalker is let loose on an ever more apathetic public still reeling from the cinematic cesspit that was The Last Jedi so in order to cheer up those of us who actually still want to think of Star Wars when it was good (and are excited about The Mandalorian) I present various panels from the fantastic Chinese comic book adaptation of A New Hope originally published in Guangdong.

Enjoy.

Head over here for the full strip and to marvel at the amazing Nick Stember who's attempting to translate the whole thing and for more on the history  of lianhuanhua, check out the quite marvelous Maggie Green. 

Who says this blog isn't educational?

born to be wild.

Whilst tidying Cassidy's room today I came across a dusty old Betamax copy (ah Prism Vision where are you now?) of this behind his bed.

At first I put it down to the fact that he has a lion obsession.

Well it's either that or he's already punting my stuff down Cash Converters to get money for booze and burds.

I'm must admit to being slightly angry tho', not because he nicked it but because he actually kept hold of it.

Yes, it is that shite so I'll try to be quick.

Wild Beasts (AKA Belve Feroci. 1983).
Dir: Franco Prosperi.
Cast: Lorraine De Selle, John Aldrich, Ugo Bologna, some wild geese and an angry polar bear.

It's another sunny day at The Zoo of Frankfurt (16 Alfred-Brehm-Platz, opening times: 9AM-5PM during winter, 9AM-7PM in summer, price: Adult: 11 DM, child 5+ 5 DM), the zoo-keepers are busy feeding the animals and cleaning up the huge mounds of shite, the gift shop is re-stocking it's shelves and the polar bears are looking longingly at the dolphins.

Just a normal day then really.

Well, not quite (it'd be a pretty abysmal - well even more abysmal, movie otherwise) because during the night some mad mentalist bastard has put Phencyclidine (PCP, angel dust, supergrass, killer weed, sherm, shi-moo or rocket fuel for those street wise readers) in the zoo's water supply.

Within minutes of the gates opening and various parties of pensioners and school kids entering the zoo the animals have started to go a wee bit strange.

The elephants turn first as they attempt to stand on the keepers head, swiftly followed by the rats(?) who escape into the car park looking for convertibles to steal whilst the polar bears just stand around with their normal pained expressions.

No change there then.

"I wanted a Scottish flag hen!"

If that wasn't enough of a downer for a Monday morning it then appears that the sweat and drool from the junked up animals is infecting the local population's pets too.

Yup, the cats are eating babies, guide dogs are tearing the throats from their owners and border collies are madly licking meat paste from the naked bodies of middle-aged spinsters.

Or is that a different film?

A middle-aged spinster
(minus border collie) yesterday.

Only one man can save the city, enter (and by the look of his porn 'tache he wouldn't complain) world renowned zoo veterinarian Dr. Rupert Berner (Aldrich in his only film role outside gay tramp porn and snuff movies) who, aided by his scientist girlfriend Laura Schwarz (genre whore De Selle who's been in everything from House on the Edge of the Park and Cannibal Ferox via your dad's bed) and local hard nosed (yet scarily flaccid) cop, Inspector Natalie Braun (Nightmare City's Mr. Desmond himself, Ugo Bologna) must try to discover a way to stop the anarchic animals before they destroy the world.

But not before we've seen the frankly impressive sight of a cheetah racing an open-topped VW beetle in an attempt to eat the overweight driver.

Will our heroes find a cure that doesn't involve locking all the animals in tin sheds with bowls of chicken soup before the PCP tainted water finds it's way into the local school causing the kids to go mad too in an attempt to give us a shock ending?

Or will they think fuck it and just torch the poor beasts?

"I wouldn't want one of them swimming up my arse!"

Ah Franco E. Prosperi you bad, bad man.

After quite literally spewing forth (alongside fellow hack Gualtiero Jacopetti) the whole 'Mondo' genre and giving us the racistastic Addio zio Tom, Prospero obviously reckoned that it was time to head back into animal murder mode and decided that a film about man's inhumanity to other creatures via the world of the zoo would be a good enough excuse to kill some rodents (and cows and cats) live on screen.

That polar bear is attempting to fuck a man....must be a bipolar bear then.

Obviously influenced/enamoured by the 1949 Georges Franju documentary/drama recounting the lives of Paris slaughterhouse workers Le sang des bêtes (a film that David Lynch admitted inspired Inland Empire), Prosperi realised that the chances of him making a halfway decent movie starring Lorraine De Selle that used a zoo as a metaphor for Nazi extermination camps was pushing it somewhat, so in his wisdom he decided to junk the majority of the Franju's stark imagery and symbolism and just stick to the animal killings.

Which makes it kind of difficult to take the film's almost child-like (and naively childish) ecological message at all seriously.

De Selle happy in the fact that at least
her pussy wont get beaten
black and blue on screen.

The most shocking thing about the film tho' isn't the copious amounts of scenes of rats being burnt off windscreens and tigers let loose in cow pens but the fact that Prosperi's director of photography Franco Delli Colli seems to have decided to shoot the entire thing thru' a film of mud.

No taste, no talent, no mercy.

Tho' it is nice to see Lorraine De Selle getting enough cash to pay for he detox treatment.