children in need.

As part of the whole 31 days of horror thing I thought it'd be a good opportunity to rewatch/review  probably the greatest British slasher flick of all time.

But I thought fuck it and decided to watch this again instead...

Killer's Moon (1978).
Dir: Alan Birkinshaw.
Cast:  Anthony Forrest, David Jackson, Tom Marshall, Georgina Kean, Chubby Oates, Peter Spraggon, Paul Rattee, Nigel Gregory, Jean Reeve, Elizabeth Counsell, Charles Stewart, Hilda Braid, Jane Hayden, Alison Elliott, Jo-Anne Good, Jayne Lester and Lisa Vanderpump

"Of course it's a dream! And stuffed full of jailbait!"

Welcome to the Lake District in what must be - judging by the grey skies and even greyer fashions - the late seventies, where uptight spinster Mrs. Hargreaves (Reeve from the Molly Sudgen hit That's My Boy) and the bewigged Ms. Lilac (Counsell, the original teevee posh totty) are busy escorting a group of scarily ample breasted and peachy arsed school girls (resplendent in mini-kilts, thigh high white socks complete with blouses two sizes too small and expertly portrayed by the likes of Georgina Kean, Alison Elliott, the still very yummy Jo-Anne Good, Jayne "Mine's a short" Lester and bizarrely Baywatch Nights star Lisa Vanderpump who manages to make even a cardigan look sexy) to a choral concert in darkest Edinburgh.

As is always the way in these movies it's not long before the school bus breaks down leaving our barely legal babes with the prospect of having to stumble thru' the woods at night looking for a convenient hotel or cottage to stay in.

Don't worry too much tho' as they soon come across Bert the local gamekeeper (expertly portrayed by Stewart who, according to the internet is better known as King Charles I of England. Who'd have thunk it?) who grumpily leads them to the local hotel run by the kindly Mrs May (Braid best known as Nana Moon from Eastenders).

"Oooh Alfie the though of you in that leather jacket makes me so moist".

Offering them food, shelter and inane (possibly drunken ad-libbed) chat for the night there's nothing else for the portly driver to do than to go back and spend the night in his bus, free from the incessant chatter of a dozen school girls constantly interrupting him as he settles down to a quick (hand) shandy over the latest copy of Razzle followed by tears and a Pot Noodle.

This proves to be a big mistake tho' as no sooner has he stepped out of the hotel and into the bushes that he's beaten to death by an axe wielding mentalist who, alongside his three equally mad pals have escaped from a local hospital.

Which, it seems, is par for the course in such films.

It appears that these mentalist mates have been undergoing an experimental treatment for lunacy that involves sending the patients to sleep before doping them up to the eyeballs with large doses of LSD.

This has the effect of letting them live out their evil side whilst dreaming thus causing them to use up all their mentalism and wake up cured.

Or something.

Look it made sense at the time.

A Clockwork Orange: The Pikey Years.

Meanwhile in a nearby field, city whizz kids Pete and Mike (Forrest and Marshall from fuck knows what else, the bin round probably) are taking a well deserved break in the country shagging birds and jogging whilst wearing tramps tracksuits.

Robin Askwith was obviously busy.

It's not all fun and games tho' as no sooner has Pete pulled up his trousers and sent the huge pants wearing local barmaid Julie (Somebody's Daughter star Hayden) on her way when a blood encrusted, three legged dog turns up just as the boys axe disappears.

Could these things be related?

Anyway back to the plot where our frightening foursome - Mr. Jones (Spraggon), Mr. Muldoon (Rattee), Mr. Smith (K-9 and Company's Gregory), and Mr. Trubshaw (Blake's Seven star Jackson) - decked out in a collection of hand-me-down white boiler suits and in Trubshaw's case a bowler hat are slowly making their way toward the hotel, stopping only to invade the gamekeepers cottage and Julie's underwear, all the time encouraging each other to act out their most violent psycho-sexual fantasies.

It's all becoming a wee bit like a Derby and Joan version of A Clockwork Orange.

But with added bush.

Which is nice.

Possibly.

"Is it in yet?"

Arriving at the hotel it's not long before our psychotic stooges have broken in, killed Mrs. Hargreaves and begun molesting as many of the school girls as they can get their sweaty sausages fingers on.

When they're not ringing bells and - gasp - throwing sultanas at each other obviously.

Luckily the dynamic duo of Pete and Mike are on the case and armed only with a shotgun, some big sideburns and one of Ms. Lilac's wigs vow to save the remaining schoolies and their collective virginity’s from the raping rabble currently tainting the good name of the Lake District tourist board.

"Now I'm gonna show you how Pudsey Bear really lost that eye!"

Wobbling precariously on a tightrope straddling good clean fun and crass exploitation, Alan (Invaders of The Lost Gold, Space Precinct, Die Unbestechliche) Birkinshaw's loon filled Killer's Moon could possibly be seen as one of the most offensive and sexist British movies ever made, with it's totally unnecessary scenes of schoolgirl bush, mindless violence and raisin-based rape as well as giving us such breathtaking dialogue (from acclaimed novelist Fay Weldon no less) as:

 "Look, you were only raped. As long as you don't tell anyone about it, you'll be alright. You pretend it never happened, I'll pretend I never saw it, and if we ever get out of this alive… well, maybe we'll both grow up to be wives and mothers…"

Which is delivered with nary a hint of irony from one female character to another, minutes before they're attacked by a pitch-fork wielding nutter with half a face.

I said possibly because on viewing the things mentioned above become irrelevant because the movie is so bloody odd.

Yes it's true that most of the 'characters' (if you can go as far as to call them that) have to spout some of the most inane dialogue ever written and most of the actors seem to visibly have trouble walking and talking at the same time but somehow it all works, as if we've traveled into a bizarre alternate reality where Pete Walker made Carry On Camping from a script by Robert Bloch.

Yes the movie is really that good.

In a very guilty way obviously.

And the thing that makes the film so enjoyable must be the totally camptastic performances from Messers Spraggon, Rattee, Gregory and Jackson, hamming it up like there's no tomorrow and giving probably the sweatiest portrayal of mental illness ever captured on film.

Jackson's Mr. Trubshaw even gets to make a few jokes about the NHS before he's finally dispatched.

Now you wont find any of that in Darren Aronofsky's Mother! will you?

Cheryl Baker and Jay Aston decide whether it'll be tunnel or funnel onstage tonight.

Recently rescued from obscurity Killer's Moon has quite rightly gained something of a cult status over the last few years and frankly it's well deserved, all we need now is some enterprising cinema owner to show this and Horror Hospital as a Saturday night double bill, dress the ushers (male and female) in thin white nightshirts and the projectionist in an old pair of decorators overalls and you'd make a fortune.

Tho' it'd probably cost you a bomb to clean up afterwards.

So, who's game?

I am and I'll even supply the three legged dog.

Recommended.

Sort of.

let's talk about sex.

The best thing about cable teevee (apart from the almost constant repeats of The Persuaders!, Hogan's Heroes and The Saint) is the oft derided Movies 24 channel.

For those who've never seen it, it's a channel dedicated to true life dramas (usually about alcoholic cheerleaders or abused step kids with titles like Pretty Girls in Boxes or The Silent Shame), bio-pics starring Patsy Kensit or Sherilyn Fenn and (after 11 PM) erotic thrillers usually starring Shannon Tweed and Eric Roberts.

Tweed: dirty cow.

As you can tell, it's the UKs greatest channel.

Unfortunately tho' it can be a wee bit of a distraction when you fire up the teevee to review a film for 31 days of horror and instead you get dragged into a touching drama about kids having 'the sex'.

It wasn't a totally wasted evening tho' as who knows, this review may save a life.

Or help you when trying to seduce that 14 year old who lives next door.

Or at the very least amaze you with it's casts (and directors) other work, it's like an Arena convention.

'It used to be when a girl refused sex, she had
society on her side, now culture screams "just do it.'

She's Too Young (AKA Teen Sex Can Kill. 2004)
Dir: Tom McLoughlin.
Cast: Marcia Gay Harden, Alexis Dziena, Mike Erwin, Miriam McDonald, Megan Park and Rowan McInnes.


14 year old buck toothed, pug nosed Hannah (Mimic 3's Dziena) is one of those annoying good girls that you always wanted to give a good kicking to in school, she plays cello in the school band, wears sensible cardigans and is proud of being a virgin.

Her bezzie buddies, the slutty Becca (Diary of The Dead's Park) and metal mouthed slightly sluttier Dawn (McDonald from the classic The Sea Beast and Poison Ivy IV) have different ideas tho', having discovered that the easiest way to be popular at school is to shag around like Harvey Weinstein let loose in a barnyard.

This is because they are blondes and therefore evil.

But the friendship is at breaking point due to these brash bimbettes spending every evening partying in sleazy hotel rooms and shagging (tastefully) on the bonnets of cars, leaving poor Hannah home alone with only her geeksome yet cute photography obsessed friend (one of the Jonas Brothers I think) for company.

Oh and her cello of course.

"Shmile!"

But an older boy on campus, the 17 year old mole chested stud muffin Nick (Erwin, the teen Bruce Banner in Ang Lee's Hulk and the voice of Speedy in Teen Titans) has taken a liking to Hannah and is determined to be the one to take her virginity.

Tho' where he plans to take it to is never explained.

Inviting her over to his house whilst his parents are out of town (using the excuse that he loves cello music) he manages to get her (but not the cello obviously) into his hot tub.


Surprisingly he doesn't make a move on Hannah, preferring to charm her with his amusing jock stories whilst wiggling his leathery nipples at her. It seems to do the job tho' as she ends up giving him a blow job during a scary Spanish werewolf movie later that evening*.

Nick Nips: who wants the first suckle?

Meanwhile back at school it seems that Becca has been suffering from a sore throat for weeks and has recently discovered some evil looking red spots in her mouth. Deciding to visit the school nurse she's shocked (and ashamed) to find that she's contracted syphilis.

But before you can spray dirty cow on her locker (or scratch it onto her forehead) it seems that almost the entire school is infected, due in part to all those sexy motel parties and hot tub sessions.

Hannah after a wee bit of high horse acting, comes a cropper when she too finds she has syphilis thanks to Nick and his filthy penis.

Doing what any of us would in this situation she goes out and gets rat arsed, returning home only to tell her overprotective (yet really hot in a frumpy kinda way) mum Trish (the poor man's Jeanne Tripplehorn, Harden from The Mist and Flubber) the good news.

After a fair bit of Emmy worthy shouting and blubbing Trish decides that the only way to deal with this outbreak of promiscuity amongst 'ver kids' is to form a 'sex in hot tubs and outside marriage is evil' committee, dedicated to wiping out syphilis, teen pregnancy, to raise motel room prices and to sew every single teen girls vagina (and possibly anus) shut.

Announcing her masterplan during the next PTA, Trish is upset to find that some of the parents think she may be going a wee bit too far.

"Hannah checks for mooth shite.

How could Hannah's life get any worse?

Well, because of her shag Nazi mum, no-one at school is talking to her (or asking for blow jobs, which is a pity because she has really nice full lips, a wee bit like your brother) anymore except that is for the gangly geek-boy from earlier who she whines at on instant messenger at every given opportunity.

Being a nice, sensitive guy (and possibly gay by the state of his hair) he invites Hannah over to cry on his shoulder (but not i hasten to add, shite in his mooth).

When she arrives tho' Hannah is surprisingly calm about the fact that her pals bedroom walls are covered in hundreds of candid photographs he's taken of her.

Tho' none of them show her giving head.

Unfortunately.

You know it would so be worth the jail term.

Snuggled up close on Jonas bed, his GI Joe bedspread wrapped are her shoulders it's not long before the pair are gazing into each others (dead, cold) eyes.

Hannah leans over and kisses him.

Whore.

Soon the horny teens are ripping at each others clothes, Hannah straddling Jonas like a big, lanky geek pony, her tiny trembling hands reaching for his bulging undies.

But geekboy has second thoughts and starts spurting not semen but horrible preachy bollocks like 'We have the rest of our lives to do this.....I respect you too much.'

Hannah, rather than be touched (phnarrr) by Noah's genuine love for her shows her true slut colours by jumping off him, grabbing her jacket and stomping off to the nearest sex party.

But not before uttering possibly the greatest line in teevee movie history.

"You don't want me because I have syphilis!"

Hmmmm, it might actually be because you're a spoilt, harsh faced whore, hen.

Hannah attempts to make steam
appear from my magic pipe.

Arriving at the party she immediately begins to look for Becca and Dawn (probably in the hope of at least getting a threesome in the pool) but they're nowhere to be seen.

Luckily, a wee boy named Harry Potter (I kid you not) is in attendance and points Hannah in the direction of the basement where he says she'll find Becca 'talking' to her new beau.

Slowly creeping downstairs she's shocked (if not a wee bit aroused by the look of her) to see some random creepy jock dude attempting to stick it in Becca without her consent.

As her friends lies crying with her jeans round her ankles and her soft cotton panties at her knees Jeff Badman turns to Hannah and whispers "You're next".

Who can save our whorish heroine?

Well wouldn't you know it, geek freak arrives just in time (I'm assuming he asked the host for directions to the rape cellar) and brandishing his camera phone offers the wanna-be rapist this chilling (and hilarious) ultimatum:

'Stop attempting to rape a wee lassie or I'll send this picture straight to 9-1-1!'

Yup, he'd obviously been there for a while taking photo's of the whole thing.

Dirty sod.

Jeff complies, leaving Hannah and Jonas to finally embrace whilst Becca wipes away the snot and tears before pulling her undies back up.

We never find out what Jonas does with the photo's but there's a good chance he wont have to sneakily steal any of his dads copies of Razzle for a while.

"He did what in his cup?"

Who'd have thought that dear old Tom McLoughlin, the writer and director of Mausoleum and Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives (plus being Jason's hand double in that very film) would end up becoming the king of the teevee movie true life drama?

So far he's given us everything from the Molly Ringwald AIDS weepie Something to Live for: The Alison Gertz Story to the high school student addicted to Internet porn shocker Cyber Seduction: His Secret Life via the controversy courting D.C. Sniper: 23 Days of Fear and much more besides. It seems that if it's got teen sex, shootings or drug abuse and it's vaguely based on a true story then McLoughlin's your man.

But out of everything he's made, She's Too Young is probably his best and most accomplished work so far.

If not the sexiest.

Coming on like the bastard offspring of one of those 1950's public information films that warned of evil crazed homosexuals hunting young boys and sailors with VD but cranked up to 11.

The girls are younger, the guys are hornier and the mums much hotter than their 50's counterparts but the scare tactics remain the same, even to the point of showing, in graphic David Cronenberg-esque body horror style, the effects of syphilis in full livid colour when Hannah goes online to research the condition.

Truly true life drama doesn't get much better than this.

Except of course the classic It's My Party when an HIV infected Eric Roberts kisses a pony.

Based (possibly) on the true story of an outbreak of syphilis amongst children in the well-off Atlanta suburb of Rockdale County in 1996 (or just on a normal day in Dudley) but with added shock value to scare teens into abstinence and force parents to chain their offspring to radiators till they're old enough to marry, the movie has too many great scenes to mention but top marks to the fantastic bit when Becca, Hannah and Dawn arrange a sleepover so that they can coach each other to improve their oral skills and the final scenes at the sex party, which come across as a high school version of Blue Velvet mixed with snippets from inside Gary Glitters mind.

Utter pants yet total genius.

Sir Tom of McLoughlin, I salute you.

But I wont be forcing your daughter to give me head anytime soon thanks very much.
























*Is it just me, or would you get fucking annoyed if a girl, no matter how hot tried to give you a blow job during a Paul Naschy film?

Honestly it's just not right.

holy crossovers!

On this day way back in 1978 I witnessed the greatest entertainment extravaganza ever the likes of which we'll never see again.

 Unless Ben Affleck gets really desperate obviously.

disturbing knitting pattern of the month.

Enjoy.

the sting.

Saw this Brian (Society, Bride of Re-Animator and The Dentist) Yuzna classic about 5 years ago and had totally forgotten about it till I came across it in the pound shop earlier today.

Never turning down a bargain (ask your mum) I excitedly paid my cash and hurried home.

Returning home I noticed that the original review had only been read by about 5 people so as a public service I decided to rewatch it and see if it had gotten any better.

And had it?

Go on.....guess.

Amphibious 3D (2010 or is it 2012?....from the look of the whole thing I'll go for 1978).
Dir: Brian Yuzna.
Cast: Michael Paré, Janna Fassaert, Francis ("You're not taking Claire, Liam!") Magee, Monica Sayangbati, Francis Bosco, Verdi Solaiman, Timo Ottevanger and Elke Salverda in an ill fitting bikini.

If indeed you are what you eat then this poor fucker must of gorged itself on clichés and cardboard.

 

  

The oddly shaped - and even odder named - marine biologist Skylar Shane (Fassaert, an unholy hybrid of Uma Thurman and Noomi Rapace in a candyfloss wig) after drunkenly filling in her grant application realizes that if she hasn't proven the existence of giant shite encrusted sea scorpions by the end of the summer holidays she'll be sacked by the university and have to go back to tossing burgers (and old men off for coppers) in McDonalds.

Probably.

I mean I really wasn't paying too much attention as I was still recovering from the sight of Elke (part-time actress cum traveler cum freelance writer and owner of Wander-Lust.nl and Green Up Your Life Events) Salverda and her comedy breasts being spiked by a computer generated winged dog turd in the opening scenes.

"Put it in me!"

Anyway, Skylar decides to hire salty sea man "handsome" Jack Bowman (an upsettingly bloated Paré, channeling Han Solo via a Fulham taxi cab driver) to aid her quest to find fossil samples and the like in the depths of the north Sumatran Sea.

Or the local public baths as we like to call it.

Bowman isn't all that he seems tho' and during the trip has to go visit a group of his fish smuggling, child kidnapping friends led by ex-Eastenders badboy Magee to whom he owes money.

Operating from a ramshackle wooden  platform in the middle of the sea, Magee and co. spend their days drinking, smoking, beating children and disguising fish as tourists in order to get them past Indonesia's notoriously strict passport control.

I.E. They are very bad men.

On arrival at the fishing platform, Skylar is approach by a pretty lipped young orphan named Tamal (Scrabble scoring Sayangbati from Ghost Island, Obama anak menteng and the fantastic The Beetle Soldiers), who was sold to the smugglers by a mad uncle cum wizard.

Don't you just hate it when that happens?

"Laugh now!"

It appears that due to a lack of facial hair, aforementioned kissy lips and obvious child bearing hips, Tamal is constantly picked on by the other crew members for being a bit gay, and upon meeting our heroine, begs Skylar to take him away.

Being an empathic kinda woman and still suffering nightmares due to the death of her daughter (I forgot to mention it earlier, sorry), Skylar is determined to help Tamal with or without Bowman's help.

Just not right now obviously as there's a gunfight and a bit of will they/wont they? romance to deal with first.

"Shite in mah mooth!"

Leaving the platform in a hail of gunfire, Bowman and Skylar head towards the local tourist island in order to experience the local sea scorpion festival and in Skylar's case to also have a few incense induced child death flashbacks before booking into a hotel for the night.

Padding anyone?

Maybe, but it does give us time to return to the smuggler's den where Magee has drunkenly beaten Tamal's pal to death causing our tiny chum to mutter curses whilst holding a special scorpion shaped pendant donated by that mad uncle I mentioned earlier.

Could this be related to the inky black blob spotted jerkily moving under the water earlier?

We soon find out as without warning (well except for the ominous soundtrack and change in picture quality) a giant plasticine poo with legs emerges from the water to snatch one of the pirates from his perch and into a watery grave as Tamal watches silently from behind the chemical toilet.

David Yip, up the casino, Margate, 1981...YESCH!

It's the next day and our heroes are out searching for stuff when they come across the putrefying corpse (or a passable facsimile of) Magee's henchman bobbing alongside the boat like so much discarded (Natalie) Wood.

Bringing it aboard for Skylar to have a fiddle with (well it's either this or Bowman's salty man tits...which would you choose?) she soon deduces that his body is full of a nasty venom that turns human flesh into latex.

Sorry, I mean into mush.

Worried for Tamal's life (or fancying a bit of rough, you decide) Skylar persuades Bowman to head over to the platform to check everything is OK and excited at the thought of some exotic foreign arse (or at the very least a wee boy's embrace), he agrees to her request. 

On arrival Skylar sneaks aboard the platform whilst Bowman drags that dead blokes body around whilst shouting "I never done it! T'was a big boy what done it and ran away!"

Unfortunately no-one gives a fuck, so it's not long before the shooting contest starts up again giving the heroic Bowman no other choice than to leg it back to his boat and sail away.

Leaving poor Skylar at the mercy of a cut-throat band of horny smugglers and, most disturbingly in a scene that would probably give Kenneth Clarke nightmares, a filthy twelve year old Indonesian boy who keeps rubbing his crotch and winking.

Janna Fassaert: Dirtier than your mum.

With Magee drunkenly preparing to kiss Skylar on the lips against her will his fat pal Bruno attempts to pull Tamal from the relative safety of the mumsy marine biologists arms but only manages to tear Tamal's shirt revealing that him is really a her.

No way.

And that's not all.

It seems that the creepy scorpion pendant given to her by the mad wizard bloke seems to control the mysterious creature, killing anyone who even thinks about harming Tamal.

Oh and that unrelated couple from the start obviously.

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

And when the beast finally makes an appearance it's heralds an even stranger connection between itself and Tamal.

Alongside a sense of crushing disappointment obviously.

Will our erstwhile heroine and pudgy hero be able to unravel the mystery and kill the best?

Or will everything ended with a ludicrously illogical ending with no other reason than to set up a sequel?

 

Fucking hell Brian that was rough.

Not content with giving us a plot so rehashed and recycled that it could barely stand unaided, the once cult favourite heartlessly throws in the largest group of wooden actors this side of builders yard stranding them on a flimsy water-based shed and leaving them to the mercy of criminally cack handed editing and a CGI beast that appears to be rendered in shite.

Apart from that tho' it's not too bad.

By that I mean it's a damn sight better than his previous two efforts; the Paul Naschy starrer Rottweiler back in 2004 and the waterlogged - in more ways than one - Beneath Still Waters in 2005.

Inside Jimmy Savile's mind.

And when the only good thing you can say about a movie is that it stars the fish-lipped star of Dagon, the charisma free yet smooth of thighed Raquel Meroño  then you know you're onto plumbs.

But as much as I'd like to see every copy of this abomination burned every time I go to slag it off I just see poor Brian's face pleading to me.

A conscience can be a bad thing in this line of work.

power mad.

Celebrating the start of November which a tribute to the strongest man alive.

Soul Bossa Nova.

We're finally here at the end of 31 days of horror so thought I'd finish up with this little seen cult classic from 1978.


It was fantastically remade a few years back which you can check out here (don't forget to stay around for the frankly heartwarming comments) but surprisingly I've never reviewed this before.

Hopefully this will persuade a few more people to search this lost gem out as it deserves much more love and acknowledgement than it currently gets.

So without further ado I present....

Halloween (1978).
Dir: John Carpenter.
Cast: Donald Pleasence, Jamie Lee Curtis, Nick Castle, Will Sandin, Charles Cyphers, Nancy Loomis, P. J. Soles, Kyle Richards, Brian Andrews, John Michael Graham and Sandy Johnson.

It's Halloween, everyone's entitled to one good scare.

It's Halloween night 1963 in smalltown Haddonfield, Illinois where Mr and Mrs Myers have left their pretty-lipped 6-year-old son Michael in the care of his older sister Judith whilst they hit the town for an exciting night of apple dunking and bad dancing.

Bored with spending the evening gazing lovingly at himself in the mirror whilst decked in his patented creepy clown costume little Michael decides to go look for his sister in order to have a quick game of Connect 4 before bed but is shocked to find her lying underneath a hunky football stud in the process of putting something in her.

Obviously confused - and a wee bit aroused by all this sweaty thrusting (and who can blame his? As a 10 year old watching this I was bewitched by the button-nosed charms of Sandy Johnson myself) Michael decides that he too would like to stick something in his big sis.

Unfortunately he chooses to use a kitchen knife much to his parents dismay upon their return home.

I mean do you know how much it costs to get cream carpets dry cleaned?

"I've got something to put in you!"

 It's not too surprising then to find that Michael is grounded for a week and loses his TeeVee privileges before being locked up in the world famous (probably) Smith's Grove Sanitarium for mini-mentalists.

Jumping forward 15 years (look it's not One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, no-one is really interested in all that boring psychoanalyst shite and life in a loony bin bollocks - unless you're Rob Zombie that is) and famed head-shrinker, the vaguely Crippin-esque - yet disturbingly cuddly -  Dr Sam Loomis (Pleasence) is heading to the hospital in order to take Michael to a court hearing where he'll be sentenced to life imprisonment on the grounds of being the maddest madman who ever lived.


Seeing as Loomis is a proper psychiatrist with a degree and everything we can't really dispute his findings.


Tho' we can debate whether the skinny fit, beige turtleneck sweater he wears in the TeeVee cut of the movie was really a good look for a man with such pronounced manbreasts for years.

In fact, some of us have already.

Upon arrival at Smith's Grove Loomis is sightly perplexed to see the inmates wandering around the grounds with their arses hanging out and leaps (as much as a portly Englishman can leap) from his car to investigate, discovering too late that the whole thing is a massive ruse perpetrated by Myers in order to affect an escape.

It looks like the by now not so little Michael is heading home to Haddonfield for a wee bit more of that violent stabbing stuff he enjoys so much.

"I love you.....could it be magic?"

Realizing that wandering around town in a polyester gown that ties up the back might not be the best thing for instilling fear in the town's populace (and knowing how cold October gets) Michael - in a blatant attack on the price of car MOT's - kills a local Quick-Fit employee and steals his uniform before driving home to Haddonfield and breaking into one of those pop up Halloween in stores you get in town that sells overpriced rip-off 'Waking Ded' costumes for under a tenner in order to top off his costume with a terrifying mask.

Unfortunately they're all out of horror themed headwear and, with this being 1978 there are no official 'Halloween' movie masks available so Michael must fashion his own from what's available which in this case is a Don Post Bill Shatner mask, probably due to Shatner (or at least Captain Kirk) also being notorious for sticking it in things.

Which to be honest is a pretty scary thing.

Tho' not as scary as the court case between Don Post Studios and Cinema Secrets regarding the aforementioned mask back in 2000.

But I digress.

Inside, well William Shatner's mind obviously.

As October 31st dawns and deciding he's got time to kill (as opposed to teenagers) before the evenings fun begins Micheal decides to spend his time stalking the woolly tight wearing, bush haired babe that is Laurie Strode (Curtis) who has - in a bizarre twist of fate only seen in movies - just dropped off a key the Myers house for her estate agent dad.

Laurie is soon spooked by a shadowy figure and sure that she's being followed by the (future) star of TJ Hooker but her friends Annie (female perfection made flesh Loomis) and Lynda (Soles) reckon that a lack of boyfriend action has affected her brain causing her to fantasize about America's sexiest TeeVee hunk.

Meanwhile Dr. Loomis, being a clever bloke and having read the script, has anticipated that Michael is heading to Haddonfield and arranges to meet with Annie's dad, who just happens to be the Sheriff (Cyphers), in order to get a surveillance watch put on Michael's old home.


Sheriff Brackett thinks that Loomis is talking out of his arse but promises to keep an eye open for any strange folk hanging about the bins looking suspicious.


Which if nothing else means that the director of the fucking awful Halloween 2, Rick Rosenthal, wont be able to cause any mischief.

As night falls the teens - well all except good girl Laurie - are busy trying to re-arrange their babysitting plans in order to have some of 'the sex'.

Annie, being frankly magnificent has already organized dropping off her charge Lindsey Wallace with Laurie - who is spending the night babysitting a large-headed ginger boy in a spacesuit named Tommy (a character who may or may not be important in the sequels, I really can't remember) - before heading over to pick up her boyfriend Paul for a wee bit of fondling and biting on the sofa.

Unfortunately not long  after dropping Lindsey off poor Annie is strangled before getting her throat cut by Michael who's been hiding in the back of her car.

Bastard.

"French Polishers? You may just be able to save my life!"

While playing - a really boring - game of hide-and-seek with Lindsey, Tommy catches a glimpse of Michael carrying Annie's prone yet still really sexy body into the Wallace house, and, being a bit of a freak himself is convinced that he's just seen "The boogeyman".

Laurie tho' is unconvinced.

Having arranged to meet Annie at the Wallace house (they must have a huge sofa) Lynda and her boyfriend, the big binned Bob arrive to find it empty so - as you would - decide to have a shag in Lindsey's parents bed.

It's Ok, it's not like they're in it at the time.

After a few minutes of self conscious thrusting Bob heads downstairs to get some drinks but Michael has been watching and  impales Bob on the wall with what must be the longest kitchen knife known to man.

Go on, rewatch the scene and tell me that's not a wee bit excessive in length for something primarily used to chop carrots.

Anyway, showing that his years institutionalized haven't damped his sense of humour, Michael dons a bedsheet and Bob's glasses in order to give Lynda a good giggle before killing her too which he does by strangling her with a telephone cord (remember then?) whilst she's chatting to Laurie.

Meanwhile back in the cat and mouse bit of the plot, Loomis has come across (well it's a slow night) the car Michael had stolen, confirming his suspicions that his former patient has indeed returned to Haddonfield.

"Hello life savers? You may just be able to polish the French!"

Unsure whether the noises on the phone she heard was Lynda having an orgasm or being murdered (she's had a sheltered life), Laurie heads over to the Wallace house to find out only to find her friends dead. 

Which is nice.

Suddenly dear old Michael pops out from behind the fridge and slashes at our heroine who understandably legs it back to the Doyle house screaming something about the star of The Devil's Rain trying to kill her.

Luckily the door is almost immediately opened by Tommy who, after sitting thru' the Howard Hawks/Christian Nymby version of The Thing From Another World on TeeVee has decided to go talk to this films director about staging a remake.

There's no time for that chat now tho' (or to think what might have happened to Carpenter's career had Manos: The Hand of Fate been on instead) as upon entering the house Laurie picks up both Tommy and Lindsey before running upstairs and hiding in a cupboard. 

With Michael approaching the house and Loomis in hot pursuit the scene is set for a Samhain showdown like no other.

A showdown that will change the course of horror cinema and launch the slasher genre on the world good and proper.

What can you say about Halloween that hasn't been said a thousand times before by proper film types who don't rely on cheap laughs like "Shite In Mah Mooth!" to brighten up their reviews?

Shot for a meager $300,000 over a period of four weeks, the original 'psycho stalks a babysitter' idea came from producer Irwin Yablans and financier Moustapha Akkad who, after viewing Assault on Precinct 13 sought out Carpenter to see if he fancied giving it a shot.

Carpenter, having a wee bit of free time jumped at the chance to not only direct but also to write the script (alongside Debra Hill) as well as compose the music, sowing together the majority of the casts costumes, painting and cutting out the autumn leaves (it was shot in spring) and lending Donald Pleasence his dad's coat.

And all for a pay packet of £18.60.

"Do I make you horny?"

Released on October 25, 1978 (probably I need to check) Halloween went on to make over $70 million worldwide and opened the bloodied floodgates for a slew of imitators and launching the careers of not only Carpenter but Jamie Lee Curtis too as well as giving a career renaissance to dear old Donald Pleasence, who on the back of his work with the director went on to become elected the first non-US born President of The United States in 1981.

But that's another story.

Lean, mean and peachy keen Halloween is still the come to film for anyone wanting to see how to make the ultimate suspense movie, from its pitch perfect performances to it's minimalist soundtrack and unflashy yet stylish direction, Carpenter's first foray into horror has never been matched or equaled and for many of us is why we are horror fans today.

Oh yes and have a thing for spiral permed brunettes in men's shirts.

And for that we salute you sir.

radio daze.

Day 28 of 31 days of horror and in tribute to the podlings school Halloween party I reckoned it was time to feature some creepy kids.

OK, just one creepy kid.

And she's really not that creepy.

And only in it for about 10 minutes max.

To be honest I've not really thought this thru', I might have well said todays film features a house cos I live in one.

Ghost House (AKA La Cassa 3. 1988).
Dir: Umberto Lenzi.
Cast: Lara Wendel, Greg Scott, Mary Sellers, Ron Houck, Martin Jay, Kate Silver, Alain Smith, Kristen Fougerousse, Susan Muller and Donald O'Brian.

Who are you? What do you want? For God's sake... somebody help me... help... aarghh!

Somewhere just outside sunny Boston the pigtailed, pug nosed and prepubescent princess Henrietta Baker (Fougerousse, bless you) is celebrating her birthday by pounding her pussy to death in the cellar.

Which got my attention and, it seems the attention of her God fearing father Sam (former Interzone dwarf Smith) who fires off a few Jesus based insults at her before turning off the lights and locking her down there.

Luckily she has a (quite possibly demoniacally possessed) clown puppet for company.

Back upstairs Sam continues to rant religiously whilst his hard done to (and harsh faced) wife (Muller whom you may recall as the voice of Muriel in Cenerentola '80) just nods her head and frowns.

Michaela Strachan realizes too late that Jimmy Savile's van is not full of sweets.

Suddenly things take a change for the bizarre, firstly the dining room light bulb starts to warp before exploding, poor old Sam has an axe put thru' his skull whilst the mirror explodes leaving Mum (who if I'm honest was no great looker to begin with) with her face full of broken glass.

Don't worry tho' as help is on hand to ease her pain when an unseen assailant kindly cuts her throat.

Meanwhile in the cellar Henrietta sits hugging her clown.

"Aye hen!"

Jumping forward in time (with a wheezing, groaning sound) 20 years and the frighteningly plainly dressed Martha (Wendel best known as the sexy teen in the tiny skirt from Tenebrae and who scarily seems to turn up quite a lot on this blog) is on the phone to her boyfriend Paul (Star Wars video game voice Scott), a ham radio enthusiast cum computer programmer desperately trying to organize what time she should head round for dinner.

Exciting stuff I'm sure you'll agree.

But Paul has other things on his mind as it appears that the previous night he picked up a strange message on his radio, a mysterious voice shouting 

"Who are you? What do you want? For God's sake somebody help me!....."

followed by an ear piercing scream.

Luckily the same message is broadcast again that night allowing Paul to record it, giving him ample opportunity to discover where the broadcast came from, which by some strange quirk of fate (or storytelling) is the old Baker house from the films opening.

How weird is that?

William Roach's fancy dress outfit was a big hit at the local school Christmas party.

After picking up (and dropping off) a jive talking, satin jacketed hitch-hiker our daring duo arrive at the house to find not only a bow-legged loon named Valkos (Doctor Butcher himself, O'Brien) tending to the weeds (in between threatening folk with a spade obviously) but a radio set up in the attic.

Spooky.

It appears that this radio belongs to fellow broadcaster Jim (singer cum producer Jay, who's worked with everyone from Take That to Cockney Rebel) who along with his pals, the brassy biker chick Susan (Stage Fright and Eleven Days, Eleven Nights vixen Sellers), ginger prince Mark (Ex-cartoon chihuahua Houck from the Christopher Cazenove sitcom Ticket To Ride) and his troubled teen sister Tina (Silver, a kinda sexier, sleazier Hilary Swank with a fine line in stone wash denim) are enjoying a weekend camping out the grounds of the house.

I say camping but they're all living in a van about the size of my house parked on the front lawn, kids eh?

Kate Silver, a chin made for chiseling and a mooth made for shite-in. In.

 After explaining the whole situation Paul is confused to discover that although it sounds like Jim on the message he couldn't have sent it, seeing as he hasn't as yet set up the antennae.

 Oeerr missis.

After a few minutes collectively rubbing their chins the group comes up with a plan to try to figure out the strange radio message and, no doubt seal their fate.

Is it just me who thinks that things are going to go very bad?

Well let's see what Paul's plan involves shall we?

He decides that himself,  Susan and Martha should drive a couple of miles up the road (?) and listen for the signal from there whilst Jim, Mark and Tina split up and wander around the house in the dark.

"Guess what? I'm 15 and love Linkin Park too...now get your webcam on and your top off!"

It doesn't come as too much of a surprise when the message turns out to be some scary premonition from the future, a future where poor old Jim is downed by a ghostly fan blade, Mark is menaced by a horny looking Doberman and an already shot to fuck Tina is chased by an axe wielding Valkos.

Luckily the dog (being short sighted) mistakes a table leg for Mark giving him time to escape thru' an upstairs window and chase Valkos into the bushes just as Paul and company return.

Phew.

After following Valkos to his shed, the mental muckraker manages to overpower Mark and pin him to the wall with a pitchfork but as he goes in for the kill (or a sneaky kiss...who knows?) Paul bursts in and renders Valkos unconscious with one well placed punch to the kidneys.

And with this everyone heads back to the house to find out where Jim has gotten to, giving the gruesome gardener ample time to escape into the trees.

"Put it in me!"

Searching the house Martha finds herself in Henrietta's bedroom where after rummaging thru' an old toy box she comes across (not in that way, tho' it'd be worth a shot) the creepy clown doll from the movie's opening.

As if by magic (or wires) the room bursts into life as the clown attempts to strangle our heroine and various toys buzz around the room in a fairly slipshod manner reminiscent of a school production of Poltergeist.

Or what the actual film would have been like if Tobe Hooper had really directed it.

Paul - being the films hero - hears his girlfriends screams and arrives in time to save her from a deadly death by clown whilst the others are lucky enough to be the ones to find Jim's still warm (and oozing) corpse.

With all this death and the like going on it's not long before our motley crew decide to call the police, who turn up and tell the kids off for trespassing before blaming Jim's death on poor old Valkos who it transpires is a former mentalist who was given the groundskeeper job upon leaving the local asylum.

Well, if you skip the opening sequence and forget about the haunted radio signal and demonic clown it kind of makes sense in a Scooby Doo way I suppose.

Emu's revenge on Rod Hull was not a pleasant sight.

Bidding their farewells and heading back to Boston, Paul remains unconvinced with the police's explanation of events so sets out (much to Martha's chagrin) to discover the house's horrible history  and the relevance of the creepy clown whilst back at the house Mark, Susan and Tina are having troubles of their own.

Nightfall is approaching, the van wont start and Tina needs a poo.

Unfortunately the only working toilet is in the (ghost) house.

As Paul and Martha race back to the house with vital information regarding the haunting, Mark and his buddies find themselves trapped whilst somewhere in the bushes a vicious Valkos is determined to kill anyone who has appeared on screen for no other reason that it'd be a laugh.

Expect bloodshed and bad hair.

Released in Italy as La Casa 3 to cash in on the success of the first two Evil Dead movies (La Casa and La Casa 2 respectively), exploitation god Joe D'Amato (uncredited as producer) and director Umberto Lenzi's threadbare classic Ghost House is one of those rare movies that is as incredibly creepy as it is
entirely terrible at the same time.

Which is an amazing feat.

Coming across like a Spielberg-less Poltergeist, rewritten for a teevee budget by the producers of Scooby Doo, the movie has everything you'd expect from the lower end of late 80's Italian horror cinema; wobbly lightbulbs, ghostly girls, hideous wallpaper and seas of man-melting yogurt violently juxtaposed with a fantastically frenetic synth score, an overuse of stone wash denim and acting that veers wildly between awake (Kate Silver) and the front window of a taxidermist shop (Lara Wendel and the rest) via booze sodden madness (Donald O’Brien and his haunted leg).

A special mention must go to  Willy M. Moon whose performance as the practical joke playing backpacker Pepe is a joy to behold and worthy of his own movie.

But what makes this performance really stand out is the fact that his character has no reason to be there at all, he adds nothing to the plot apart from a fine taste in red shiny jackets and joke skeleton arms.

It's like Fat Albert turning up halfway thru' The Exorcist to perform a 10 minute stand up routine.

Actually come to think of it that would make it a much better movie.

"And I'm spent!"

Worth a look to see the house from Fulci's classic The House by the Cemetery lit badly if nothing else, Ghost House wears it's heart and it's influences proudly on it's sleeve, pity then that it's a huge pink floppy wizards sleeve belonging to that 60 something prostitute that lives on the estate you keep hearing about.

And like her it's well worth a quick visit.