people you fancy but shouldn't (part 53).

Munchier than Mel Gibson and bonnier than Bruce Spence, let's celebrate the much missed Arkie Whiteley, Mad Max 2 mega babe and star of the seminal killer pig movie Razorback.

late night linus.

As you may have spotted there's been a slight delay in reviewing the rest of Frightfest due to the high quality of the films on show meaning it's much harder to take the piss.

So without further ado on with the show...

Barely recovered from the surprisingly super vinyl villainy of The Asylum (or Backmask or whatever it's called this week) Saturday mornings FrightFest fun kicked off with a classic killer clown caper in the form of  Jon Watts’....

Clown (2014).
Dir: Jon Watts (obviously).
Cast: Laura Allen, Andy Powers, Peter Stormare, Elizabeth Whitmere and Christian Distefano.

Loveable real estate agent and cuddly family guy Kent Clark (the instantly likeable Powers) ends up donning a clown costume he's found in a house he's selling after the entertainer he's booked for his son’s birthday party cancels at the last minute.

Yup, sounds legit.

Unfortunately the next morning our doting dad realises that the suit has started to attach itself to his body, even down to the foam red nose.

And if that wasn't strange enough our eponymous hero has started feeling very hungry.

For children.

And not I might add in a Savile way.

Tho' that's probably as bad.

The situation does have a wee bit of a silver lining tho' as Kent manages to track down the costumes previous owner, a man named Karlsson (cult fave Stormare) only to discover that he too had suffered the same terrible effects after wearing it.

You see, it turns out that the clown suit is, in reality the skin and hair of an ancient kiddie eating demon from Northern Europe named the "Cloyne", which is nice.

As a plus point tho' Kent also finds a way to stop the demon and regain his life.

And that's by sacrificing five children to it.

Much fun, gruesome child killings and clown-based hilarity ensues.

"Time to shoot your demon muck over your sisters jubblies!"

Actually living up to it's pre-screening hype, Watts' big screen movie debut is a surprisingly muted and almost camp free affair that brings to mind David Cronenberg's The Fly - as well as the Jim Carrey crapfest The Mask - in and it's painful portrayal of body transmogrification.

At least before the plot zooms off on a darkly comic kid-killing rampage which frankly is just the ticket for a Saturday morning.

A fantastic cast - special kudos to the wonderful Andy Powers - play the whole thing perfectly straight and to great effect with only Peter Stormare edging toward the camp corner, which after the uncomfortable winces at Kent's attempts to remove the costume and a couple of near child chewings manages to give some blessed relief from the movies disturbingly black heart.

Admittedly there's a real danger of it losing its way as the film races toward its bloody climax but luckily Watts and co-writer Christopher Ford manage to pull it back whilst delivering a surprisingly bleak ending.

Dead funny. 

No time to get our breaths back (but luckily time to pee) as the great god of cinema himself Sir Alan of Jones took to the stage to introduce  Arrow Films’ magnificent restoration of Mario Bava’s classic....


Blood and Black Lace (AKA Sei donne per l'assassino, Six Women for the Murderer. 1964)
Dir: Mario Bava.
Cast: Cameron Mitchell, Eva Bartok, Thomas Reiner and Ariana Gorini.

If you haven't already seen this then I suggest you hang your head in shame, then go straight out, buy it, watch it then come back when you've finished.

I'll still be here.

I mean who doesn't love the maestro's groovy fashion-based slasher centring  as it does around a group of chain-smoking models being pick off one by one by a fright-masked, leather-gloved killer?

Absolutely fucking gorgeous to look at and packed to the gills with the biggest collection of preening beauties, dippy designers and antsy addicts alongside quite possibly the greatest quiff ever seen on a police detective and all set to one of the coolest soundtracks ever written.

Cinematic perfection.

Coffee, cakes and a quick cigarette next as we prepared to head back into the Black Hills of Maryland with Russ Gomm’s documentary that goes behind the scenes of The Blair Witch Project.

The Woods Movie (2014).
Dir: Russ Gomm.
Cast: Eduardo Sánchez, Dan Myrick, Gregg Hale and some other folk.

With access to over 3 million years worth of footage recorded at the time, Gomm lovingly documents Blair Witch’s origins, planning and production, tracing the story from its very beginnings via audition tapes, do it yourself set decoration and spooking its lead actors in the woods to taking over the world at Sundance with asides and comments from  directors Sánchez and Myrick alongside producer Hale in what can only be described as not only the final word on a cinematic phenomena but also on the world of micro-budget, lo-fi film-making in general.

Those expecting a critique of the movie and it's subsequent changing of the horror landscape will probably be disappointed by Gomm's love letter a film which so obviously shaped his career and tastes but to be honest The Woods Movie is much better for it and remains a reminds us why we all took the movie to our hearts.

Recommended to anyone and everyone who's ever been tempted or attempted to make a movie.

From putting the willies up students in a forest to putting them up kids in cupboards next with Hans Herbot’s adaptation of Mo Hayder’s darkly disturbing crime novel...

The Treatment (AKA De Behandeling. 2014).
Dir: Hans Herbot.
Cast:  Geert Van Rampelberg, Ina Geerts and Johan van Assche.

The Treatment tells the tragic tale of Detective - on the verge of a nervous breakdown - Nick Cafmeyer, a man whose career and life have been haunted by the abduction of his younger brother by a pervy paedophile when they were kids.

A paedophile who, due to a technicality got away scott free and now spends his time harassing poor Nick with notes pertaining to tell the true fate of his sibling and by standing in his garden waving at him in a creepy manner.

Seriously you can smell the warm milk off the man thru' the screen.  

The whole sorry situation comes to a head tho' when reports come in of a family being held hostage and brutalized whilst their child is abducted in circumstances that mirror his own trauma.

Determined to catch those involved whilst laying his own demons to rest Nick is forced to relive his own nightmares and fears as he attempts to solve the case.

The Cannon and Ball starring Boys in Blue it isn't.

What it is tho' is one of the most powerful and disturbing crime thrillers in recent memory.

The subject matter is sensitively handled by Herbot, tho' he's a director not afraid to shy away from the grim and grimy horror inflicted on the films young victims and by proxy the lead character - a kind of Dutch Lieutenant subtly portrayed by Geert Van Rampelberg, The Treatment is a bleakly stylish thriller that handles it's themes of child trafficking and abuse in a surprisingly - and welcome - mature manner.

The films biggest shock tho' comes when the director explains how this (British) based novel couldn't get funded in the UK due to it's subject manner which just goes to show what a sorry state the UK film industry is in.

Hopefully a DVD release will be imminent for this must see shocker.

Just don't expect to get laid afterwards.

Time for a cigarette (or six) and a quick bleaching of the eyeballs next before the final(?) chapter in the frankly magnificent [REC] series.

And I'll admit upfront that I do indeed love [REC] 3 (yes it's my favourite one, deal with it) as well as going all wobbly kneed at the sight of the yumsome Manuela Velasco, so it was a forgone conclusion that I'd love this.

Demon-possessed monkeys and all.

[REC] 4: Apocalypse (2013).
Dir: Jaume Balagueró.
Cast: Manuela Velasco, Paco Manzanedo, Hector Colome, Ismael Fritschi and Mariano Venancio.



Following on directly after the climax of [REC] 2 (the third part actually comes first then runs parallel with the original [REC] continuity pedants) with ace TV reporter turned demon fighter Ángela Vidal (Velasco, meow. Twice) being rescued from the infected apartment block by a couple of hunky special forces types before waking up - clad only in a paper tea towel - on a government commandeered merchant navy ship in the middle of the ocean.

With only the most ineffectual group of sailors this side of Captain Pugwash,   Clara's mother-in-law (from [REC] 3), some trigger happy soldiers, assorted boffins and the Spanish Nick Frost (La isla de los nominados' Fritschi) for company our beloved heroine must face down a rapidly growing army of demons and a hold full of killer monkeys before the ships self destruct is triggered.

Fast, furious and incredibly silly, [REC] 4 might not break any new ground or be as genuinely terrifying as the first movie but fell for it hook, line and sinker and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

The most fun to be had with the possessed since Army of Darkness, hate it and be a crushing horror snob forever.

And on to the final film of the Fest of Fright, Jay Dahl’s mysterious reworking of his short of the same name....


There Are Monsters (2014).
Dir: Jay Dahl.
Cast: Matthew Amyotte, Jason Daley, Kristin Langille and Michael Ray (not Jay) Fox.

Whilst travelling across country gathering testimonials from successful former graduates of their college, four film student pals begin to notice that people around them are acting strangely.

Firstly in subtle ways, clothes on inside out and badly applied lipstick become more and more noticable to the foursome as do the fact that more and more people are standing perfectly still in the distance with their backs turned toward our travelling band.

And then there are those whose smiles are just way too large...

From it's genuinely jumpy pre-credits sequence to it's pulse pounding finale, Dahl's film definitely split the crowd into those who happily leaped headfirst into the directors headfuck nightmare and those too terminally staid to see past it's faux-found footage feel and extremely choppy editing style.

Like JT Petty's cult classic the sublime Soft for Digging, There are Monsters is the type of movie perfect for audience interpretation.

I mean of course it's a monster movie in the classic Invasion of The Body Snatchers vein but it also works as a story about delusional misidentification (or Capgras syndrome) writ large, or about how those with ASD (autism spectrum disorder) are viewed by/or view the world.

It's totally up to you.

One criticism aimed at the film has been its sometimes disorienting camera work with it's off focus scenes and covered lens conversations, which if taken as a result of the footage belonging to the students can be seen as a genuine concern.

I mean they're film students, surely they know how to frame a shot?

But if you assume that the footage is actually from the point of view of the movie-goer, making them an actual character in the film then it makes perfect sense.

The camera literally transforms into our eyes and ears, reacting as we would under stress, hiding our eyes, turning away, trying to block out the unpleasantness unfolding around us.

We are the camera and the camera is us, ironically in a film about change and deception and the importance of individuality it's us, the audience who transform first.

We become the film we are watching.

And in this disposable culture it's ironic that we become a digital medium rather than good old celluloid.

There Are Monsters is one of the few horror films that stayed with me for days after and, if you let it, will do the same to you.

And I for one can't thank Jay Dahl enough.

Long live the new flesh.

thought of the day.

For those of you that missed it.

Excellent.

Can we carry on now?

fright!

Yep!

It's that time of year again when hundreds of horror geeks plus half dozen sweaty, high waisted folk who live at home with their disabled mums (who will never die!) descend on my fair city ready to soak the streets (and seats) with the unmistakable smell of sweat, shame, semen and tears.

Which can only mean that our lovely pals at Frightfest have announced the line-up for sunny Glasgow.

And it looks a good un!

So without further ado, here's the list:

THE ATTICUS INSTITUTE

Director: Chris Sparling. Screenwriter: Chris Sparling. Cast: William Mapother, Rya Kihlstedt, Rob Kerkovich. 92 mins, USA 2015.

"Shite in mah mooth!" - Sorry couldn't resist.

Back in the early 70's brainy clever clogs Dr. Henry (no relation to Herbert or Fred) West set up The Atticus Institute in order to study telekinesis, clairvoyance, E.S.P., the books of Colin Martin and other unexplained psi-related phenomena.

But not the film Phenomena obviously because that wasn't released till 1985.

Literally thousands of folk were tested using a variety of seriously scientific with some of them actually showing spooky abilities that defied any rational explanations. 

Except probably that wolves did it.

Unfortunately just after West published the promising results of his research work, the small facility was mysteriously shut down in November 1976 by a concerned US Government. 

The reason? 

A woman named Judith Winstead whose supernatural abilities tested far beyond anything ever before witnessed. 

We're promised that won’t believe your eyes whilst watching the shockumentary of the year from director Chris Sparling, writer of BURIED.

The film script that is, not the word.

THE HOARDER

Director: Matt Winn. Screenwriters: James Handel, Matt Winn, Chris Denne. Cast: Mischa Barton, Robert Knepper, Charlotte Salt. 84 mins. UK 2015.

 

"Mischa Barton? I'm sure she's around here somewhere!"

When Ella (Mischa Barton) discovers that her Wall Street banker (in more ways than one) boyfriend is renting a secret storage unit, she suspects he’s using it to hide an affair.

But seeing as this is Frightfest she's probably wrong.

Anyway enlisting the help of her best friend Molly (High headed star of The Inbetweeners Emily-Mars-Atack....yes I've just realised that it lack an S to work) she breaks into the facility only to discover something more terrifying instead. 

Wolves?

Director Matt Winn isn't telling.

Now trapped in a darkened building with a group of neurotic strangers who start disappearing one by one, Ella soon uncovers even worse horror in the dank depths. 

A dozen wolves?

Who knows? But her life or death battle to escape eternal enslavement (possibly by animals like wolves) is about to begin…

WYRMWOOD

Director: Kiah Roache-Turner. Screenwriters: Kiah Roache-Turner, Tristan Roache-Turner. Cast: Jay Gallagher, Bianca Bradey, Leon Burchill, 98 mins, Australia 2014.

"Laugh now!"

In the midst of a post-apocalyptic zombie invasion - caused this time by a wayward comet - an Oz (as in Australian, he's not a Munchkin or anything) mechanic must attempt to rescue his dusky eyed sister from a group of sinister gas-masked soldiers who are scouring the land for fresh victims to participate in the bizarre flesh-eating experiments being conducted by a fairly mad scientist. 

Mixing Mad Max style designs, an absurd sense of humour, new and outrageous zombie lore and KC and the Sunshine Band, this new spin on an old favourite promises black comedy galore, catastrophic carnage, over-the-top splatter and probably a few mullets.

88

Director: April Mullen. Screenwriters: Tom Doiron, April Mullen. Cast: Katharine Isabelle, Christopher Lloyd, Michael Ironside, 88 mins, Canada 2015.

88: Two fat ladies not shown.

From the team behind DEAD BEFORE DAWN 3D, and starring friend of The Arena Katharine Isabelle, comes a glorious, gory and fast-paced homage to cult exploitation revenge thrillers. 

Gwen arrives dishevelled at a mysterious roadside diner with no idea where she is or how she got there in such an anguished state. 

Split between two time lines, Gwen gets taken on a violence-fuelled journey into death and destruction and becomes the most wanted woman in Tennessee seeking out the person responsible for her lover's murder.

Raucous redhead action with American Mary herself. 

Honestly what more could you ask for?

Except wolves maybe?

THE ASYLUM - (BACKMASK)

Director: Marcus Nispel. Screenwriters, Marcus Nispel, Kirsten Elms. Cast: Stephen Lang, Brett Dier, Brittany Curran, 90 mins, USA 2015.

Holly Valance, up the casino, Wigan, 1998.....YESCH.

From Marcus Nispel, 'director' of THE TEXAS CHAINSAW and FRIDAY THE 13TH re-imaginings (but let's not hold that against him) comes a curious case of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll possession. 

Which is nice.

Six teens throw a party in a rundown building and find an old record (ask your mum) and decide to play it backwards for a giggle.

As you do.

But the vintage vinyl holds a subliminal message and soon a seemingly malevolent entity has infiltrated the group, wreaking havoc and eggy farts. 

However the spirit is actually trying to convey a message and the real source of horror is something - or someone - much closer to home.

Your dad perhaps?

Come on, you've seen the way he looks at me.

CLOWN

Director: John Watts. Screenwriters: Christopher D. Ford, John Watts. Cast: Peter Stormare, Eli Roth, Laura Allen, 102 mins, USA/Canada 2014.

 

"Those badges on your jacket smell....they must be onion bhajis!" - Seriuosly a clown I was working with once made this joke.

FrightFest Glasgow’s special 2013 guest Eli Roth sends in the clowns but forgets the money he owes me with this terrifying tale of an unreliable childrens entertainer.

 When the balloon twisting funny fella hired for his son’s sixth birthday party is a no-show, doting father Kent dons a clown outfit himself but after the festivities, he finds he can’t take it off – the bulbous nose is stuck to his face, the frizzy wig glued to his hair and the make-up permanently etched on his features. 

Too late he learns the costume is the skin of an ancient demon and his family must race to break the curse before the transformation into a homicidal killer with outsize shoes and the mysterious stench of warm milk is complete. 

 

 

 

BLOOD AND BLACK LACE
Director: Mario Bava. Screenwriters: Mario Bava, Giuseppe Barilla, Marcello Fondato. Cast: Cameron Mitchell, Eva Bartok, Lea Lander, 88 mins, Italy 1964.

A Bava classic....blood or black lace not soon.

Mario Bava’s visually stunning, elegantly mounted and erotically charged proto- giallo presented in all its restored glory.

Nuff said.

THE WOOD MOVIE

Director: Russell Gomm. Screenwriter: Russell Gomm. Cast: Edward Sanchez, Daniel Myrick, Gregg Hale. 84 mins. UK 2015.

In October 1997, a group of filmmakers ventured into the Maryhill woods to produce a low budget independent horror movie. 

 

That disappeared without a trace but across the pond a different lo-fi shocker,  

THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT would become a global phenomenon and began the ‘found footage’ genre that remains a potent, if sometimes stinky  force today. 

 

Now for the first time you can see how that record-breaking groundbreaker came into being. 

 

From never-before-seen recordings of pre-production meetings, audition tapes and test footage to the actual shooting, first preview screenings and marketing at the Sundance Film Festival, all the key personnel guide you through the discussions and decisions that minted a shock sensation classic.  

 

 

THE TREATMENT

Director: Hans Herbots. Screenwriters: Mo Hayder, Carl Joos. Cast: Geert Van Rampelberg, Ina Geerts, Johan van Assche. 125 mins, Belgium, 2014.

"I can see you house from here Peter".

Nordic Noir turns frighteningly Flemish (yesch!) in Belgium’s top-grossing film of 2014.

Based on the chiller by acclaimed British author Mo Hayder and gut-wrenchingly harrowing to an unprecedented degree, nerves of steel are required to watch this truly shocking, emotionally jarring, viciously gritty, serial killer thriller. 

Inspector Nick Cafmeyer is haunted by the unsolved disappearance of his younger brother. 

A known sex offender (based, I'm told partly on your Uncle John) was questioned but quickly released and now takes fiendish pleasure in tormenting Nick by sending him unmarked postcards featuring wolves dressed as famous sportsmen. 

Now another spookily similar case comes to light involving a missing juvenile and Nick’s real nightmare begins.

[REC]: APOCALYPSE

Director: Jaume Balagueró. Screenwriters: Jaume Balagueró and Manu Diez. Cast: Manuela Velasco, Paco Manzenado, Héctor Colomé, 96 mins,.

Manuela Velasco: I love her AND she follows me on Twitter....my life is complete.

After unleashing the original [REC] onto unsuspecting audiences, Frightfest Glasgow is hosting the UK premiere of the shattering visceral conclusion to the global horror phenomenon.

 

Picking up the intense action immediately after [REC] 2 - expanding on the mythos from all three predecessors, plus referencing cult genre classics - TV reporter Ángela Vidal is extracted from the cursed apartment building and taken to a high-security quarantine facility aboard an oil tanker. 

 

There, in the bowels of the dark and desolate ship, Dr. Ricarte is experimenting with the infectious virus to find a cure before another living dead outbreak occurs.  

 

And finally we have....

 

THERE ARE MONSTERS

Director: Jay Dahl. Screenwriter: Jay Dahl. Cast: Matthew Amyotte, Jason Daley, Michael Ray Fox, 96 mins, Canada 2014.

"Aye hen!"

Monsters are taking over the world, slowly, quietly and efficiently, but you won’t see them coming until it’s far too late! 

 

Four film students embark on a road trip to obtain promotional interviews for their college, however en route they witness a series of odd events, strange behaviour, shocking actions and what seems to be surplus of twins (not mine). 

 

Their well-ordered universe literally changes before their camera lenses uncovering a terrifying secret lurking just under the seemingly calm urban landscape.  

 

With a promise to scare us out of our wits right from the start, there'll be slashed seats if this isn't the case.

And if that wasn't enough to get you moist don't forget there's still time to place a bet on which movie will make the wheelchair bound man walk out in disgust this year.

 

See you then!

slashtastic.

Coming soon from writer/director (and most importantly fan of this blog - and by that I mean he says nice things about it, not threatens to stab my family because I criticized Rob Zombie ) Carl Bachmann, a horror/comedy hybrid that from footage shown so far, is actually really funny.

If not a little horrific too.

Surprised?

You should be.

Ladies and gentlemen I give you Party Slashers!

Currently looking for funding thru Kickstarter, Party Slashers tells the (almost) true story of Will, a high school Mr. Popular wannabe who as well as finishing his costume for the big Halloween party, is desperately trying to figure out how to get noticed by his high school crush, Heather, the girl that haunts his every waking moment.

And a few of his sticky sleepy ones too.

Meanwhile, his introverted ex- best bud, the roleplaying game obsessed Russell, is busying himself with a particularly intense game of Dungeons & Dragons, you see like all good games masters he takes his campaigns very seriously.

Seriously enough to spice up the game by chanting a spell from a mysterious necromancer book that he found in the woods.

Unfortunately, as is usually the case when you use bizarre occult books before first checking the index, the spell succeeds in raising the deadly “Revenants”, muderous undead killers from beyond the grave.

Which as we know is a bad place to come from.

One of these cast members is now on my crush/stalking list...I think I'll leave it as a surprise tho'. Hate her to be out when I turn up on her doorstep.

 Worse than that tho' is that the cops have busted the big party, leaving Will no alternative but to invite everyone to Russell's huge house in the middle of nowhere (his parents are never, ever home either which is a plus) to continue the evenings celebrations and most importantly give himself more time to impress Heather.

The sly fox.

Things never go according to plan tho' and upon Will and co's arrival Russell is understandably furious with his ex pal, until his secret crush, the angsty hipster Angie walks in which quickly changes his mind.

 And trust me, I've seen her and she's very, very cute.

Tunnel or funnel?

 With the party continuing unabated and everyone happy (for once) Russell completely forgets about the occult book and it's spells pertaining to the revernants.

Which is a wee bit unfortunate as they haven't forgotten about him.

Cue ninety minutes of wholesale slaughter and frighteningly funny humour as Will teams up with Russell, Heather and Angie in a fight for survival.

Ill-equipped, unskilled, and anything but team players, this rag-tag group’s true colours soon come to the fore.

But before they can deal with death-dispatching revenants, they’ll first need to deal with each other.

And it'll be anything but pretty.

In pink.

Tiffany: I think we're alone now.

Cutting his (cinematic) teeth directing the award-winning dark comedy/musical, "Miracle on Metal Street", Bachmann promises that Party Slashers will be "a non-stop funny and lethal adventure unlike anything you've seen before." 

And from the clips I've seen I believe him.

Party Slashers needs you, so head over to the Kickstarter site and tell them I sent you.

End of plug.

back for good.

So...did you miss me?

Terribly sorry about the appalling lack of activity (paranorman or otherwise) over the last few months but between work and Megan based death threats there's been precious little time to update.

But I'm back now and just in time for this years Glasgow Frightfest.

You lucky people.

A poster today.

And this year promises to be a blood curdling bugger of a beast, including as it does the fantastic Ti (don't call me Fred) West's cult of the damned shocker THE SACRAMENT with an appearance by the man himself and Jake (don't call me Ti) West and producer Marc (the Mack) Morris introducing the world premiere of VIDEO NASTIES: DRACONIAN DAYS, their sequel to the critically acclaimed VIDEO NASTIES: MORAL PANIC, CENSORSHIP & VIDEOTAPE documentary this time featuring Jon Pertwee's favourite monsters.

Probably.

A Draconian yesterday.

If that wasn't enough there's also the world premiere of THE SCRIBBLER, based on Dan Shaffer’s bestselling graphic novel (that's a kinda comic book but with swearing and stuff in it) featuring the tissue tearing trio of Eliza Dushku, Michelle Trachtenberg and Sasha Grey.

Expect scares, shocks and stubborn stains.

The Scribbler: words.

Director John Suits (you sir!), producer of the bloody nosed CHEAP THRILLS will be in attendance as will Jordan ("And it's goodnight from him!") Barker, director of the terrific sucker punch home invasion chiller TORMENT, starring the yumsome Katharine (I have her home number) Isabelle, which will receive its European premiere at the festival.

Thrills: Cheap.

 

Also attending is Indiana writer/director Zack (Saved by The Bell) Parker, with the UK premiere of his Slenderman starring PROXY, a daring and highly original chiller (it says here and who am I to argue?).

Proxy: foxy.

And there are more UK premieres including the bigger, wickeder and possibly hairier WOLF CREEK 2, KILLERS, a dark, twisted tale from the Mo Brothers duo of Kimo Stamboel and Timo Tjahjanto and two highly impressive feature debuts - Cliff (Darth Vader) Prowse and Derek (Enter the Dragon/The Big Boss Man) Lee’s AFFLICTED, a clever spin on the found-footage trend and Spanish director Jorge 'cheese' Dorado’s probing, twisty MINDSCAPE starring Mark (Sinestro) Strong.

Wolf Creek: Crocodile Dunaweelassieupthearse.

And if that's not enough there are also Scottish premieres of the Sci-fi shocker ALMOST HUMAN directed by Joe Begos and director Michael S. Ojeda’s provocative and compelling SAVAGED plus a drunken man in a wheelchair who will suddenly walk away during any boring bits and someone in a Rob Zombie t-shirt.

Mark: Strong.

See you there!

even sweeter seats, slimline teats and a wee touch of cloth.

(Or Frightfest, part two).

It's 7:30 AM on a Saturday morning and I've had a restless night, my dreams invaded by impure thoughts regarding Alexa Nikolas' arse and visions of Sheri Moon Zombie riding a stuffed, sock wearing goat.

Could anything save me from this madness?

Nikolas: pissing the bed with fear.

Well if anything could it was probably the world premiere of a cleaned up, buffed and breezy, English language version of Mario Bava’s classic 1963 anthology Black Sabbath.

Those of us brave (and awake) enough to join horror god Boris Karloff, Mark Damon and the scrumptious Michele Mercier at 10:45 in the morning were treated to a mighty trilogy of terror from the undisputed master of horror featuring ghostly ex-lovers haunting beautiful women, vampiric family feuds and naughty nurses presented for the first time in a print worthy of it's reputation.

Gorgeousness abounds.

"Now here's a mooth worth shite-in in!"

Next up was more hi-jinks from Hellfjord before FF unveiled the fantastically monikered Bring Me the Head of the Machine Gun Woman, the story of geeky nightclub DJ Che who, after accidentally hearing his mobster boss discussing an upcoming hit manages to avoid execution himself by offering to carry out the killing for them.

Unfortunately the target is the leather clad, scantily panted bounty hunter Machine Gun Woman, a Hell in high heels vengeance driven vixen with the smoothest thighs this side of a butter factory.

Even just a tit wank would probably kill you.

Pity then that the main focus of the movie is the charisma free Che driving around town in a live action version of GTA: Chile rather than the titular Machine Gun Woman herself.

Although not a complete failure the movie could have done with less shots of Che bouncing around in his car and more (much more) footage of the frankly ferocious Fernanda Urrejola bouncing around whilst shooting things.

And bending over to polish her stilettos.

Whilst covered in chocolate.

Tho' if I'm honest I'd still be thinking of Ingrid Bolsø Berdal.

"la meg berøre pikken!"

More Hellfjord happenings were followed by the UK premiere director Barry (Rain Man) Levinson's take on the mocumentary/found-footage horror genre with his lo-fi eco-parable The Bay.

This chilling tale revolves around the small coastal town of Chesapeake Bay where a frighteningly high level of toxicity has been found in the local water.

Water used not only by local businesses but also by the townsfolk themselves.

A small scabby child, bleeding from her mouth, left on my sofa, alone...WITH MY REPUTATION?

With the mayor refusing to cancel the Independence Day celebrations it's not long before the population is infected by a plague of flesh-popping, tongue-chewing, mutant Cymothoa with amusing consequences for all.

Well everyone except the folk whose stomachs keep bursting obviously.

Tightly plotted with a convincing cast and a premise to leave you itching all night, The Bay was enough to satisfy even the most jaded found footage fan.

Except the wee boy outside who said it was boring because there was no sexy stuff in it like Lords of Salem.

Hopefully his folks wont be missing him.

Yet.

Ginger boy: Up the shitter with a ten inch blade...Yesch!

Now it was time to head back inside still caked in blood, egg and tears and right on time to have the age old question "What happens when you give 26 directors $5000 each, four minutes run time and a letter of the alphabet to play about with?" 

The answer is the horror anthology The ABCs of Death.

Now I don't mind admitting that this was the one movie I had reservations about in regards to how successful/entertaining/sexy the whole concept could be when  dragged into reality, suffice to say I was as pleasantly surprised by the whole thing in the same way that small Filipino boy surprised me with his dusting skills last Easter.

Composer Simon Boswell, after leading the crowd in a totally tuneless (as only a Weegie crowd can be) rendition of The Jackson 5's ABC explained that the assembled directors had attempted to create the celluloid equivalent of a drunken party with something for every taste.

And to my surprise and their credit they managed it.

Frankly portmanteau cinema hasn't been this much fun since The Monster Club.

And never before has a movie appeared to plug itself directly into my Aspie addled brain and dragged my darkest thoughts kicking and screaming into reality (yes I'm looking at you Noboru Iguchi and Yoshihiro Nishimura).

Boswell entertains with his backing group Jake West, lovely Lucy Clements and Bane from Batman.

Taking in everything from claymation crappers to high powered heroin heroines via kitten killings, flatulence and every conceivable thing in-between,  ABCs is a truly one of a kind movie that does indeed feature something for everyone.

Including those with a Japanese Nazi-chick with a huge thrusting plastic cock fetish.

That'll be your nan's Christmas present sorted then.

Sexy lady + big gun = happy boy.

With a laugh a minute Q and A from a group of those sick puppies involved - Jake West, Lucy Clements, Simon Rumley, Lee Hardcastle and the aforementioned Boswell it was time for a (very) quick poo before the previous two hours of low budget genius made way for 90-odd minutes of star driven stodginess as producer, co-writer, tea-boy, stunt man, composer, combat photographer, unit milkman and star Eli ("The postage was how much?") Roth took centre stage to introduce his new movie, an arse clenching tribute to Irwin Allen and Fireman Sam style disaster movies, Aftershock.

Aftershock: No, not this one.

Set during the aftermath of the 1976 Tangshan earthquake in China, Feng Xiaogang's heart-breaking story of a mother forced to chose between which child to save went on to win the best Feature Film and Best Performance by an actor (Chen Daoming) at the 4th annual Asia Pacific Screen Awards.

Sounds fantastic doesn't it?

Unfortunately our Aftershock was a totally different film entirely.

Aftershock: No, not this one either.

In this one, Eli and his (real life) pals Ariel Levy and Nicolás Martínez are enjoying a hedonistic holiday in Chile. Hooking up with some foxy chicks (the yummy Andrea Osvárt, the scary Natasha Yarovenko and the cutsey, pantie flashing Lorenza Izzo) they head to Valparaiso to dance the last few nights of their holiday away in a groovy nightclub.

Unfortunately (for them that is, for us it's a blessed relief after almost 40 minutes of heartwarming character 'development' broken only by a fleeting appearance by Selena - not in the mouth - Gomez) a huge earthquake hits the area causing death, destruction and social unrest amongst the plebs on a massive scale.

Ben Affleck, up the casino, Blackpool, February 2013.....YESCH!

Adequately directed but with way too much time spent on character fluff - Roth and Lopez's intention was for Aftershock to start off as a buddy comedy and change into a survival flick at the halfway mark - amiable enough I guess but it doesn't really work when you know who's involved and the nature of the movie, you end up just twiddling your thumbs till the killing starts plus the dark locations and quickfire edits don't give you any sense of scale meaning that the movie ends up looking like it takes place across two interchangeable streets.

Luckily everybody gives their all acting wise (tho' there really wasn't that much to give) and looked good in mud plus the physical effects are impressive.

Pity about the prolonged onscreen rape tho'.

Surely the threat is enough without the 5 solid minutes of thrusting, screaming and soiled pants?

Just me then?

He's a rich, womanizing, world famous film director/writer/producer/actor who can't move for money or pussy. You write a blog no-one reads. Who is the more tragic?

As time began to run out (literally in my case seeing as it appeared to be seeping from my trouser leg) there was just time for a wee snippet from the third Glasgow based zombie Nazi movie, Outpost: Rise Of The Spetsnaz before the night was brought to a close with the final two instalments of the by now totally addictive Hellfjord and an incredibly serious Q and A regarding sexual health practices with director Patrik Syversen and Kobba himself, Mr. Stig Frode Henriksen.

Who it turns out during questioning contracted AIDS from my nan.

A fact for which I am eternally sorry.

Gomez: Always use the tradesman's entrance.

 So with heavy hearts and itchy pants we headed off into the chill Glasgow night (the temperature sharper than Norman Bates' kitchen knife), older, wiser and somewhat grubbier than we were 24 hours earlier safe in the knowledge that not only had we all survived another Frightfest but that they'd never find the wee ginger boys body.
 
Well until next February that is.

sweet seats, sugar teats and a wee touch of aids.

(Or how I stopped worrying and learned to love Norway).

A Bit late coming but it's taken me till now to prepare myself mentally for a revisit to this years Glasgow FrightFest, I mean can you imagine how hard it must be for someone like myself who suffers from severe text diarrhoea to attempt to compress over 12 hours of cinematic treats (and Lords of Salem) into something resembling a well written and sometimes amusing blog post?

Especially when this years event was probably the most fun ever.

Well, I've done my best.

Now in it's 764th year, this time round FF boasted not only allocated seats (which still didn't stop a drunken, middle aged Weegie trying to fight me on Saturday) and more movies but a guest list that would make even Parkie wank himself silly with excitement.

St. Trinians saucepot Gemma Arterton was in attendance, as was the barely legal beauty that is Saoirse Ronan alongside directing legend Neil Jordan and bespectacled producing god Stephen Woolley, all there for the European premiere of Byzantium whilst various cast and crew members of Sawney: Flesh of Man joined the onstage festivities later in an attempt to hide from the cold and explain why a serial killer apparently living on The Isle of Skye would drive all the way to Glasgow and back just to pick up one victim and how on earth a 11 year old 'reporter' could possibly have a drinks problem.

Rounding up (not literally) Friday’s guests was 'Canadian' director Mr. Spencer Estabrooks who scarily had flown over at his own expense to unveil his latest short entitled The Hunt.

Which luckily for us (and him) was quite good.

But now to the movies and what a mix bag it was, opening (as is now the Glasgow tradition) with a documentary, this years offering was Michael Stephenson's frankly magnificent The American Scream which took us to the seaside town of Fairhaven, Massachusetts where the Brodeur, Souza and Bariteau families spend fortunes and hours every year turning their homes into haunted houses for the Halloween holiday, for no other reason than to entertain their neighbours with good old fashioned healthy scares.

Freakishly funny and remarkably touching, Stephenson treats his subjects not as freaks but with the respect they deserve, which must be hard seeing as, on first sight, the Brodeur's appear to be a pair of inbred pedo' potato people with a fetish for sinister clown suits when in reality they're one of the nicest, most loving family I've ever come across.

And not in that way.

Highly recommended.

"Wanna buy some pegs Dave?"

Following on from the aforementioned The Hunt (love to see a feature spun out of this, I'm available to script duties Mr. Estabrooks) and a quick pee came the Scottish horror effort Sawney: Flesh of Man, based (very) loosely - IE it had a cannibal in it - on the legend of the 15th century flesh-eater and his murderous clan (copies of my rejected Sawney script and storyboards are still available by the way) transported to the modern day and featuring a taxi.

How do you sum up a film which even the events host described with the words "Well it was better than watching paint dry"?

Apart from praising it's cinematography and wondering why director Ricky Wood had decided to make the naturally entertaining David Hayman tone down his performance rather than letting him go full pelt with the mentalism that is.

His googly eyed, dribbly performance doesn't totally save the film but it does drag it out of a self induced coma around the 40 minute mark.

And I must point out to those involved that having Grotbags from Emu's world appear in animated form as a surprise threat in the last 10 minutes of a movie really doesn't work on modern cinema audiences.

Some fairly decent cinematography yesterday.

There was barely time for a slash 'n' fag before the high-point of Friday’s proceedings, not content with raping our childhoods with his abysmal Halloween xerox and subjecting viewers to endless shots of his wife’s scrawny arse disguised as entertainment, Robert 'Rob' Zombie (not his real name) has returned to our screens with his attempt to do a Rosemary's Baby with his much anticipated (it says in the PR handout) Lords of Salem.

Before the screening ringmaster Paul McEvoy promised us that the film would 'divide the audience'.

Which frankly was a polite way of saying it's shite and only wanking obsessed wee boys and fat neck bearded virgins in man-tit revealing White Zombie t-shirts would enjoy it.

And then only because they don't know any better.

Lords of Salem: Fucking shameful.

Allegedly a tale of witches wickedly wreaking revenge on the town of Salem via the medium of a shit doom rock 12 inch single and forcing a ball-headed chicken man to impregnate Sheri Moon Zombie, the movie proves once again why Zombie needs to have both his hands and his testicles removed before he forces another 2 and a half hour excuse to wank over his wife's frankly average arse on the unsuspecting movie-going public.

The mind boggles as to how the man could get a cast of such high calibre (and his wife) to appear in such unmitigated arse biscuit.

I mean it boasts such talent as Bruce Davison, Ken Foree, Patricia Quinn, Dee Wallace, Meg Foster, Michael Berryman and  Judy Geeson, what did he do? threaten to fuck their kids?

Less a bad movie, more the cinematic equivalent of being brutally (and forcibly) taken up the shitter by a crab infested, middle aged Croatian transsexual whilst your parents drunkenly raise a glass shouting "happy 18th birthday son!" and laugh maniacally.

Apologies tho' to the wee boy I shouted at outside for enjoying it.

I really should have stabbed you in the face putting us all out of our misery instead. 

You would. All three. Twice.

And how do you possibly follow a film like that?

With probably the best vampire film of the past 30 years.

Well since Lifeforce anyway.

Yup, it's Sir Neil of Jordan's utterly fantastic Byzantium.

Introduced by the great man himself, Byzantium tells the tale of a mother and duo on the run from unknown forces whilst trying to live a 'normal' life amongst the living who find themselves holed up in an off-season seaside town.

Things begin to unravel when daughter Eleanor becomes frustrated at having to keep her vampirism a secret as she falls in love with a local boy.

Brilliantly shot and beautifully acted, Byzantium is already one of the top films of the year.

See it now.

Or whenever it opens obviously.

From the sublime to the ridiculous now with what was the dark (tho' dead would be a better description) horse of the festival, the first two episodes of the  Norwegian TV series Hellfjord.

Hellfjord is what happens when you get seven of Norway ’s finest directors and writer/producer Tommy (Dod Sno) Wirkola completely rat arsed on cheap (if not illegal) Vodka, or it might just be a documentary.

I've never been to Norway so I can't say.

Coming over like the bastard child of a sweating drunken back alley threesome between Twin Peaks, Hot Fuzz and They Came From Somewhere Else, the series focuses on the misadventures of disgraced Police Sergeant Salmander who, after accidentally killing his horse infront of thousands of onlookers at the annual independence day parade is posted to the small town of Hellfjord as punishment, a town where the family restaurant doubles as a topless mud-wrestling club, 99% of the populace (average age - 67 smoke) and the sun never sets.

Oh yes, and travellers have to appease a sea serpent for fear of getting eaten.

"Vil du ta min pikk?"

Possibly the greatest teevee show ever to come out of Norway, the rest of the series was shown over Saturday and due to threats from the Scottish crowds already picked up for a UK DVD release and broadcast.

"jævla fantastisk!" as the probably Norwegians say.

With the night coming to a close we where treated to the sight of big Bruce Campbell whoring himself in the name of the Evil Dead remake, valiantly trying to convince us that it'll be as great as the original in an exclusive behind-the-scenes look at the movie that split the audience by age.

Anyone who'd seen the original on release shuddered and sighed whilst the children in the audience whooped and cheered before turning up their personal stereo's full blast to listen to that new rock band One Direction or something as they waited for the final film of the night, Alex Craig Mann's high school set  Detention of the Dead, a film so beige and bland as to have the effect of rendering the viewer unable to move, a hellishly misjudged mix of The Breakfast Club and Night of The Living Dead that uniquely ignores the reason for both these movies success and just plods along like a crook legged child in search of it's parents.

Nikolas: arse not shown.

You know you're in trouble when it's 00:48 on a Saturday morning and your only reason for watching a film is the drunken hope that ex-Disney star Alexa (Zoey 101) Nikolas will trip up and show her peachy, fishnet clad arse.

Suffice to say it didn't happen.

Still to come...The ABC's of Death, Eli Roth's reaction to me asking him for my £6.50 back, more Hellfjord and the story of how Stig Frode Henriksen contracted AIDS off my nan.

See you back here when I've typed it all up.