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...

 

 

friday i'm in love.

For you eyeball pleasure and to celebrate 45 years since the release of the very first Friday 13th movie, here's an (almost) complete collection of Friday fan films...

Enjoy.

 

 Never Hike Alone
  

Never Hike in the Snow
 

F13 - A New Wake
  

F13 - The Storm


F13 - Extraction
 

Jason Rising -

Uncut version
 

Censored  version
 

Friday the 13th: Hike to Higgins Haven


Vengeance


Voorhees

F13 - The Fall of Camp Blood
 

Here comes the Night
 

The Cabin he calls home

beanz meanz hinz(man).

Day 21 of the whole 31 days of horror thing and I've not given up yet - or gotten any new readers but hey ho I've gotten to a point where I honestly don't care.

A wee bit like the folk behind todays movie.
 

Flesh Eater (AKA Zombie Nosh, Revenge of the Living Zombies. 1988).
Dir: Bill Hinzman. 
Cast : Bill Hinzman, John Mowod, Leslie Ann Wick, Lisa Smith, the local job seekers club and some tramps.

Well excuse me boss, I must've come up here with the wrong impression, I thought we were here to have fun!

Welcome to Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania in the good ol' (and by the look of it freezing centre of) US of A where a rag tag bunch of red-necked (and red faced) 'teenagers' are having a fun filled weekend wobbling about on the back of a tractor.

That's not all they have in mind tho' as their good times don't just end with a ride on some filthy farmyard machinery, you see they plan to spend the night in the woods getting drunk and 'making out'.

Whilst all these teen shenanigans are going on the local farmer Barney Moe has noticed that a huge hole has appeared in one of his fields, luckily for us (and the plot) he's not from Norfolk so doesn't try to fuck it but instead he has a little dig around and uncovers a rather unconvincing paper-mache stone with a scary inscription:

Beware! The bin men!

Upon further inspection our frightened farmer finds something much more terrifying, yup it's that bloke from the start of Night of The Living Dead still wearing the same threadbare suit and a coating of talc lying in the hole up to his elbows in mud.

Ladies and gentlemen please welcome Mr. Bill (my illustrious acting career) Hinzman!

But before Moe can ask how or why (or even to get his Alpha VHS signed) Hinzman has popped out of the ground and popped his teeth into the farmers neck.

Ouch.

Losing acting ability as quickly as he's losing blood our hapless chap falls woodenly (and quite carefully) to the ground shaking like an epileptic in a fridge.

Meanwhile a few miles away the teenage dirtbags, oblivious to all this naughty neck nibbling are indeed busying themselves getting drunk and, most disturbingly attempting to shag each other.

Yes indeed, the movie gives us a rare opportunity to watch two real and very camera conscious teenagers awkwardly making out in blindingly lit, acne revealing close-up.

You can almost imagine director Hinzman, one hand on the zoom button and one down his trousers shouting "Touch her titties!" from just off screen as the pair  clumsily go thru' the motions, the boy praying that the girls bra strap doesn't stick for fear of Hinzman giving him a kicking.

Or a sickly hicky.

"Blood in mah mooth!"

Thankfully, Hinzman soon jumps in front of the camera and proceeds to put the zit-faced teens (and us) out of their misery via a rusty pitchfork thru' the chest and a rubber heart removal cum breast fondle before stumbling off  to menace the rest of the cast, each victim rising from the grave as a member of the undead.

Either that or they're all high on crack or cheap cider.

It's probably a good time to point out that the subtle tit touch from Hinzman doesn't appear to be at all accidental seeing as at any point during the movie whenever a female is called upon to be attacked it's our erstwhile director doing the biting, invariably squeezing one of her breasts as he does it.

It's almost as if it were planned this way so as to give him a chance to get his sweaty sausage fingers on some young virginal flesh.

Or maybe I'm just pissed of that I never thought of it first.

Either way before long there are at least a dozen (OK I'm being kind) of the undead (some with ladybreasts some without) wandering aimlessly around the forest in search of a half decent script whilst the surviving (non molested) teens decide to barricade themselves in a dilapidated farmhouse much like that other Bill Hinzman zombie movie*.

That reminds me, the gammon in the fridge has gone off.

Obviously the zombies have seen it tho' and decide to attack before the refurbishments are finished, eating all of the main cast except for the two leads (no doubt the directors daughter and her boyfriend), leaving them with no choice but to run away in the hope of extending the movies running time to a full 90 minutes.

Not too surprisingly the undead give chase.

Fairly slowly obviously but it's the thought that counts.


At this point the film degenerates into a tourist guide to the woods and hedgerows of Beaver Falls (with added random murders and nudity) before showing off the interior design of the sound guys house (complete with nude babysitter) and finally showing us how the locals spend their weekends by climaxing with a barn-based fancy dress party.

Which not too surprisingly Hinzman and his zombie buddies soon turn into a blood bath, possibly because the revelers fancy dress outfits were a lot more impressive than the movies actual make-up.

Shockingly for the amount of females present there's precious little tittie touching in this scene but big bad Bill does manage to grope a teenage cheerleaders ample arse as she tries to escape up a ladder so that's OK then.

"Put it in me!"

This extreme form of trick or treating (well it is Halloween night) continues unabated for what seems like several days before the local police and fire department, aided and abetted by a group of gun crazed locals finally turn up and kill everything before setting fire to a farm and, in a scene totally unlike the end of NOTLD accidentally kill the surviving teens with a bullet to the head and a nail in the coffin of independent film making.

Flesh Eater on Bluray?...Isn't that a wee bit like making Ridley Scott reshoot Alien with the lights on?

 Mumbling, bumbling and drunkenly stumbling across the screen like an Alzheimer's riddled drunken uncle, William Hinzman shows himself to be the original one-trick convention guest with this threadbare vanity project designed for the sole reason of playing on his 'fame' as the cemetery zombie, a role he also returned to in John Russo's abysmal NOTLD anniversary edition and no doubt various supermarket, envelope and eyelid openings.

"I'm sorry, I have my woman's period".

Whilst there's nowt wrong with the fella making a few bob off the back off a fleeting appearance in a hit movie (just check the guest list for any Collectormania event) there's something not right in seeing the source of that fame dragged out and violently buggered in front of you.

Which is effectively what Hinzman attempts to do to Night in this truly abhorrent tribute cum sequel.

Shot with all the skill of John Hinckley Jr. from a script consisting of a series of random ideas hastily scribbled on the back of a used tissue and acted out by a collection of Ikea furniture, Flesh Eater brings nothing to the undead table except the idea that middle-aged zombies adore teen tits.

"Little Mix number one for Christmas...MONSTA!"

No budget, no imagination and no mercy, Flesh Eater by it's very nature is a must see movie if for no other reason than to show that George Romero was indeed the talented one behind Night of The Living Dead despite what Hinzman and John Russo might have you believe.

Oh and the fact that it makes the Netflix Resident Evil series almost watchable.

Tomorrow something better.

I promise.

welcome to fright night!

 

Can it really be 30 years since spookmiester supreme Stephen Volk invited us to spend Halloween night alongside the Early family and the pesky poltergeist Mr Pipes in their house on Foxhill Drive?....It's just that it seems that Ghostwatch has always been a part of our Halloween celebrations - not so much speaking to the nations psyche and its love of the supernatural as sneakily creeping up behind it and shouting "BOO!" as loud as it could before kidnapping its kids and locking itself in the cupboard under the stairs (or in our case in the hall).

My biggest regret was that I never actually saw it on transmission being as I was out at a Halloween party (bizarrely actually dressed as Craig Charles – spooky eh?) so didn’t get to see it till early the next morning, soberingly strong coffee in hand and clutching a bowl of popcorn I sat transfixed – little knowing of the mayhem it caused (and the damp trousers) across Britain just a few hours earlier. From there on in every Halloween was Ghostwatch night culminating on the 5th anniversary of the shows original broadcast when, to celebrate, the Ghostwatch boardgame was born.

 

No, really.

 

Whilst others celebrate the ultimate in sinister spooktaculars with documentaries, tattoos and serious social discourse we celebrate by mocking up a mangy cat bitten beast in our cupboard and roll a dice in order to collect paranormal evidence whilst dodging the glory hole and Suzy’s sweary schoolbook and donning laminated Parky masks.

 

And for that Mr Volk we salute you.

 

Just don’t let that image give you nightmares.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And whilst I'm waxing lyrical about Ghostwatch here's Ghostwatch - Welcome to fright night! - the terrifying tribute lovingly (and drunkenly) put together by myself and Mr Dissolved Paul way back in '97 for its 5th birthday that was recently - and spookily - resurrected for the 30th anniversary showings.

 

 

 

So for your ear entertainment here's the full audio experience...Enjoy (and don't have nightmares).

 

 

doctor on call.

 

 

 

OK....Which one of you is it?

yor blimey!

Going all post-Coronavirus crisis today with a quick glimpse at what the world may look like come Christmas.

Except for readers in the West Midlands obviously as this is exactly what it's like right now.

Shittest band name ever.

Yor - The Hunter Of The Future (AKA Yor, The World of Yor, 1983)
Dir: Antonio Margheriti (As Anthony M. Dawson).
Cast: Reb Brown, Corinne Clery, Luciano Pigozzi, Carole André, John Steiner, Marina Rocchi, Sergio Nicolai Ayshe Gul and the legendary Aytekin Akkaya.

Kalaa: Why is Yor different from other men?

In a post-apocalyptic world where dinosaurs rule and bit part Italian actors roam the woods behind the local primary school clad in nothing but flea bitten loincloths comes the mighty warrior Yor (ex pro-footballer, Captain America and deputy sheriff Brown) - oiled, toned and muscled yet with the running prowess of a small girl.

He looks good in furry pants tho'.

Somewhere in the bushes Kalaa and Pag (ex Bond babe Clery and the tramp like Pigozzi) are busy hunting a vaguely embarrassed piglet with wooden horns stuck to its head.

Kinda like a normal day in hunting for loo roll in the supermarket at the moment really.

Except for the bit where a giant Cardboardasaurus crashes thru' the trees and tries to bite them that is.

Kalaa is frozen with fear and Pag can only scream and wobble his manbreasts as the beast lurches towards them.

Luckily Yor - on the way back from stocking up on bread and multipacks of pasta - comes bounding to the rescue, beating the dinosaur around the head with a big stone axe till it falls over.

Phew.

"Yor going home in a St. Johns ambulance!"

As a way of saying thank you - and desperate for company after years of self-isolation - the dull duo invite Yor back to their village for a big party and not having anything else planned he accepts.

Enjoying an evening of mead and bacon (and with the chance of a shag from Kalaa who appears to be the only non-bearded woman there) Yor is understandably upset when a gang of face painted ape men gatecrash the party and set fire to the village hall before tossing Yor off a nearby cliff and kidnapping Kalaa.

The Little Mix tribute band
was a wee bit disappointing.

In a bit of useful exposition it turns out that there are no ape women in the invaders tribe so every couple of weeks the scruffy monkey men attack the friendly village looking for posh totty to use as 'love slaves'.

As I said, exactly like the West Midlands.

Yor (who has climbed all the way back up the cliff) is adamant that if anyone is going to have their wicked way with Kalaa it's going to be him and to this end heads off towards the ape lair with Pag in tow.

Obviously he's hoping that if the worst comes to the worst Yor might at least be tempted by a wee suckle on his massive man tits.

I know I'd given it some serious thought.

Deciding to spend the night in the relative safety of a tree the duo are rudely awakened the next morning by a strange grunting noise coming from a nearby bush which the pair decide to investigate.

Popping their heads thru' a tired looking conifer the dynamic duo are met by the - somewhat arousing - sight of dozens of bikini clad ladies being oogled by the noisy band of cheeky (not to mention horny) monkeys.

"Laugh now!"

If that wasn't enough the evil leader of the apes, notorious decorative gardener and general bad boy Jeff Ukraan, is rubbing his hairy palms together and licking his lips whilst advancing on a cornered Kalaa.

There's only one course of action open to our hero - obviously - so after randomly killing a nearby giant bat then using the animals carcass to glide into the ape den Yor quickly releases Kalaa before smashing a nearby dike and flooding the camp.

Please note that he makes no attempt to rescue the other captives who obviously are either drowned or left to spend the rest of their lives having every one of their orifices violated by bananas.

What a guy.

Leaving the scene of carnage behind them Yor explains that he is trying to discover 'the secrets of his past' (and find out why all the other men look like lank haired bearded pikeys whilst he's tanned and blond) so must brave the dangerous desert to find the answers.

Kalaa decides to tag along (well, it's either that or sit on her own waiting for the dirty monkeys to turn up) and before long the stumble across a tribe sacrificing a nubile, pointy headed blonde on a bonfire.

Yor kills them all (it's kinda his M.O.) and rescues the lady who introduces herself as Roa (Gul), owner of a pound shop pendant not dissimilar to Yor's.

The main character, not yours obviously.

Unless you actually own one when it may well do.

Obviously not being able to see you I can't say.*

"Do the monkey with me!"

Kala, unhappy with another female joining the group decides to kill her love rival but her plan is interrupted when a rather wet Ukraan turns up looking for revenge.

A fight ensues (again) but Roa is struck down - tho' not with gout - before Yor can save her.

Which is good news for Kalaa.

"Hullo I'm superfluous, come sleep in mah bed".

Our terrific trio tut and shrug shoulders before continuing their journey into the desert and before long come across some folk being attacked by what looks like a large chicken with an umbrella stuck to its back.

Not having been involved in a fight for around ten minutes Yor kills the beast and gets invited to another party where yet another bikini clad lady fawns over him and wiggles her ample hips.

Understandably Kalaa is fairly pissed off at the fact that every woman on the planet wants a piece of Yor's prime ass but before she can attempt to kill this one the tribal chief arrives with information about Yor's origins.

It seems that every so often blond 'gods' wearing big medallions come to visit the villagers in flying boxes from a mysterious island hidden by a spooky dark fog.

Yor is convinced that the island holds the key to his identity so he steals a fishing boat to continue his quest, leaving the friendly visitors to be wiped out by the aforementioned flying boxes.

"Thanks for the pearl necklace!"  "Yor welcome!"

With Pag and Kalaa as his loyal crew, Yor quickly makes his way to the island only to lose control of the boat when a violent storm whips up from nowhere.

Yor is tossed overboard and washed up on a beach where he is almost immediately zapped by a guy in a leather jumpsuit and a gimp mask.

Kinky.

Don't fret tho', Kalaa and Pag are safe too.

They've been cast ashore further up the beach where they're accosted by a small group of cave dwelling tramps.

Put it in me!

Yor meanwhile has been grabbed by the Overlord (sounds painful) as is looking on in mild apathy as the movies plot is explained to him.

It turns out that the film is set on a future Earth (never) devastated by nuclear war where the majority of survivors have regressed to little more than savages.

A small group of scientists however tried to hold back the oncoming violent times by using space age technology and appointing an absolute leader (the aforementioned Overlord - the plywood like Steiner) who  - and with a name like that you can't be too surprised - built an army of gimp suited androids and kick out anyone who disagreed with him.

Yor's parents were among those yellow bellied cowards that ran away, preferring to take their chances with the papier mache dinosaurs on the mainland, which was a bad idea seeing as they were almost instantly eaten leaving our hero an orphan.

Before they died however they gave baby Yor a present, the big gold medallion he wears which in reality is a high tech recording device.

What for I don't know, why they never left him a note of how to work it.

Laughing (looking and possibly smelling) like an off season seaside town crossdresser on crack, Overlord announces that he has plans for Yor.....

"Juliet Bravo!"

Kalaa and Pag meanwhile are swapping niceties with the resistance movement who have told then much the same story, but adding the (fairly important) bit about Overlord planning to kill everyone else on the planet within the next hour or so.

They decide to attack Overlord's complex.

Whilst all this is going on. Overlord and his foxy assistant Ena (André) have strapped Yor to a dining table and started flashing really hot disco lights at him in an attempt to steal his DNA which, when mixed with Kalaa's will become the genetic building blocks for Overlords new android army.

Just as it appears that Yor can't possibly sweat any more the stinky tramps burst in and free our hero as a battle of epic proportions ensues.

Well I say epic.

"Are you looking at my bra?"

One particularly stinking tramp manages to reach Overlords control centre and de-active his leathery android hordes whilst Yor plants a bomb inside the bases nuclear reactor.

With only minutes to spare before detonation Yor stabs overlord with a huge barbers poll and hounds the heroic rebel band into a conveniently parked spaceship, escaping the island with seconds to spare as it explodes no doubt showering a still recovering planet and population in all manner of dangerous radiation.

As our merry band fly off to an uncertain future, spooky voice over guy tells us of how Yor will "use his new found knowledge of mankind's past to protect the future".

Which is nice.

"Yor the one that I want".

Originally made as a three hour SciFi epic for Italian Teevee, Antonio (I got to say I directed Andy Warhol's Dracula and Frankenstein but only for tax purposes) Margheriti’s fantasy classic is better known to fans of the fantastic in it's truncated movie form.

Luckily for connoisseurs of cinematic sewage even after losing almost two hours of it's original running time the films sheer awfulness shines thru'.

From it's ludicrous premise by way of the abysmal acting via trite dialogue, a distinct lack of a workable script and overall general shoddiness it's still top quality entertainment.

For proof look - and listen - no further  than Maurizio and Guido De Angelis's reused score - you may remember it from such blockbusters as 2019: After the Fall of New York, Raiders of Atlantis and Lightblast, the clever use of costumes left over from that other Corinne Clery SciFi masterwork The Humanoid - tho' it's more likely that she came free with the suits - plus not forgetting the star turn by the ultimate forgotten macho man that is Mr. Reb Brown.

Brown: Tight, athletic buttocks.

From his early work alongside soon to be Starbuck Dirk Benedict in the 1973 shocker Ssssss to his appearances as Captain America in two ill advised 1979 Teevee movies you can always count on Brown's frankly terrifyingly muscled arse to take your attentions away from any mistakes on screen.

And here he's ably (and amply) supported by Euro art/sleaze star Corinne Clery doing her best as the vacant eyed bubble permed heroine with the hots for Yor and Italian 'B' stalwart (and owner of the droopiest man breasts ever) Luciano Pigozzi (star of such top quality hits as Alien from the Deep and Double Target) who brings a Wilfrid Bramble like quality (and smell probably) to his role as cuddly uncle Pag.

Funnier than Margheriti's Cannibal Apocalypse - and with better special effects - plus a fluid style of its own that features nods to the 60's Batman series with it's high angle camera work, good old over choreographed 'slow fighting' Yor has an endearing kind of thrift shop feel that makes it a pain free enjoyable 90 minutes of cheesy entertainment if nothing else.

True it makes absolutely no sense at all but at least it's not too painful to watch.

Especially if like me you enjoy tight buttocks.

As a strange but true aside I'd just like to add that about eighteen years ago I came across a Dutch version of Yor in a local charity shop for a pound and eagerly snatched it up.

What can I say? I liked the cover illustration.

Rushing home to see how it held up dubbed I was surprised to find that someone had recorded over the last ten minutes with what looked like home video footage of a deserted public pool where a scantily clad, blindfolded woman sat strapped into a chair.

After viewing this strange (yet somewhat disturbing) scene for a few minutes a man appeared from stage left wearing nothing but a clown mask and holding a kitchen knife.

I'll be honest and say I didn't notice the knife to begin with because I was way to frightened by his massive, erect circumcised penis. 

I watch in horror (and mild jealousy) as he then proceeded to pinch the woman's nipples and play with her hair for a few minutes before moving slowly and menacingly toward her.

Then the screen cut to static.

I've always wondered if someone had accidentally recorded one of their home sex tapes at the end or if I'd stumbled across a scary snuff film, the killer desperate to recover the tape before his identity could be found.....

If you know (or are the person) that made this then feel free to get in touch.

Unless you are a mad mentalist murder obviously.

And if you are the mad murderer featured can I just point out that the VHS in question is now in the hands of Mr DissolvedPaul in Canada so hunt him down not me.

Cheers.






















*Actually that whole joke only works if you say it out loud. Sorry.

our cousin vinny.

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