having a butchers.

For day 22 of the fairly tiresome 31 Days of Horror let's travel back in time and revisit a  classic of the cannibal/zombie/mentalist medic genre.

Or I could just review this instead.

Enjoy.

Zombi Holocaust (AKA: Doctor Butcher M.D: Medical Deviate, Island of the Last Zombies, Queen of the Cannibals, La Regina dei cannibali, Zombie Holocaust, 1979).
Director: Marino Girolami (or if you prefer, Frank Martin).
Cast: Ian (the kids school fees are how much?!!?) McCulloch, Sherry Buchanan, Alexandra Delli Colli, Peter O'Neil and Donald O'Brian.

"You nearly succeeded in ruining my life's work! I could easily kill you now. But I'm determined to have your brain!"

In a rain sodden (and badly lit) teaching hospital deep in the heart of New York City (the home from home for 80's lo-fi Italian movie makers, well at least for their films openings in order to convince folk that they're watching an American production) someone has been helping themselves to various body parts belonging to the cadavers marked for use in the daily anatomy class, much to the chagrin of the grumpy surgeon who uses the incidents as an excuse to shout "You've all failed!" at his students and fuck off down the pub.

Possibly.

"Fuck me! A wasp!"

The gorgeously glamorous (in an Kay's catalogue way) Lori Ridgway (the frighteningly fish lipped Delli Colli) and her colleagues are baffled by this spate of icky thefts and reckon that the answer must be prank playing students.

But lo, the truth is far more sinister - and it has to be said, oh so slightly racist - when they discover the token, bowl haired Asian doctor (who looks disturbingly like a porn movie version of Erik Estrada) is caught sitting in the dark eating a corpses heart.

Spooky.

Erik decides the best course of action is to evade capture by throwing himself out of a window then cunningly turning into a shop window mannequin before he hits the ground (with a satisfying plastic echo it has to be said).

Noel Edmonds discovers his hand twin.

After a leisurely trip to street level in the lift Ridgway bags the body and returns to work to start her examination.

Of the corpse that is, she's not taking her driving test or anything.

It's whilst examining the aforementioned corpse, that Ridgway — who also happens to be a student of anthropology, lucky that - recognizes a strange (for strange re: shite) tattoo on the dead man's chest—a tattoo that just happens to be (are you paying attention?) exactly the same as a symbol found on a ceremonial dagger she was given on her sixth birthday by the family housemaid when she lived on the tropical island of Kitkatoo.

Which by a strange coincidence is where the heart eating doc was from too.

Phew!

And if that wasn't plot contrivance enough it turns out that the dagger has recently been stolen!

I mean what are the chances of that?

"This outbreak of cannibalism could
be related to the killing moon".

Feeling there's more to this than just an isolated incident, Lori decides to ask famous scientific 'investigator' and generally suave stud muffin Dr. Peter Chandler (genre god and owner of the worlds best ginger comb-over McCulloch) for help in solving the macabre mystery.

After much ooing and aahing, Chandler reckons the best way to get to the bottom of things is to organize an all expenses paid holiday - sorry expedition - to the island alongside a crack team of experts (well alongside Lori, her assistant George (the credits say Peter O'Neal but I swear it's a pre Dead Ringers Jon Culshaw) and tough tomboy reporter Susan (the lank haired, boy trousered but infinitely bonkable Buchanan from Starcrash II and Tentacoli).

  

Non-entities one and all but infinitely more charismatic than anyone featured on I'm A Celebrity.

 

Mooooosssshhhhiiiiiiiii!!!!

Deciding to visit the big island next to Kitkatoo (Dogpoochone?) first our fantastic foursome spend a few days staying with the trampish Dr. Jeff Obrero (screen legend O'Brian, looking like Wilfrid Brambell's buffer brother), a piss stained and poo breathed gone to seed medical researcher with a great line in open neck shirts who's been living among the natives for years.

Well in their bins by the look of him.

"Aye son!"

Although stinky as hell, Obero still has some manners and after tea, cakes and a severed head (tho' it may have been a mouldy potato) in Laura's bed he offers not only the use of his boat but a trio of Beatle haired native bearers and his big cravated 'man friend' Moloto (Barrera, essaying his role in Zombie Flesh Eaters but in a cheaper outfit), as their guide.

As is the way in such movies, nothing goes according to plan. The boats engine overheats stranding the group not on the isle of Kitkatoo but on the smaller, slightly less dangerous and more like a playpark behind the director's house island of Kitkatoow...or so Moloto claims.

"Look at the dog!"

Chandler however is beginning to suspect that Moloto isn't being entirely honest about the situation but as he goes to confront the guide a loin-clothed band of scary cannibals jump out of the bushes and attack our heroes.

The native bearers are the first to fall (but isn't that always the way?) giving Chandler and co. time to leg it into the trees.

Contacting Dr. Obrero, the survivors are told to make their way to a handy abandoned church further inland and to lock themselves in whilst awaiting rescue.

Bunnet.

As Chandler and his merry (if slightly smaller than earlier) band make their way through the jungle - well, the producers garden - they seem surprised to find that the cannibals have been following them so react the way anyone would in that situation by standing around screaming as they wait for them to attack again.

After a particularly threadbare and school playground like struggle George ends up eyeless whilst slinky Susan (being the most attractive woman in the movie) is carried away by the arse bearing natives.

Suddenly (almost as if the director has remembered the films title) a gaggle of shuffling zombies turn up and scare the natives to buggery (not literally mind) and the survivors make it to the church - on time - to find Obrero waiting for them.

"Put it in me!"

Convincing the survivors that Susan is probably actually enjoying the attentions of the sausage fingered cannibals and that they should just forget about her, he hands Lori and Chandler a map showing the quickest way to New York and points them in the direction of a handy rubber dingy left on the beach and even tho' Chandler's suspicions of foul play are getting stronger by the second he decides that it probably would be safer to just head home and forget about everything.

Plus he realizes that it'll just be him and Lori in the dingy for weeks...the dirty wee dog.

His sinful thoughts of hot sea-based sex are interrupted tho when a zombie attacks them on the beach, leaving an angry (and no doubt sexually frustrated) Chandler to dispatch it with a handy outboard motor.

With a look of grim determination usually only seen in Sheepdogs our hero slowly realises that the only way he's ever gonna pull Lori is to solve the island mystery so with a heavy heart – and a raging horn - Chandler heads back to the church to confront the mad doctor......

With more cuts available than Richie Manic, Marino Girolami's cult classic is probably the only Italian gore-arama to feature not only cannibals but also zombies and a mad as a lorry doctor too, so you effectively get three movies for the price of one.

It's just a pity that none of them are any good.

On the plus side, Ian McCulloch is in it and as we all know he would never appear in anything too shady, standing around in a selection of Primark suits looking worriedly ginger (or is that gingerly worried) and let's be honest, he could stand around in his undies painting a wall and he'd still be infinitely watchable.

McCulloch: Ginger.

Donald O'Brian on the other hand is the complete antitheses of McCulloch's subtle acting style, a perfect example of an eye rolling, scenery chewing and wee stained madman. His fantastically realized Dr. Obrero is an utter joy, so convincing is his performance that you can almost taste his fishy breath.


Tho' luckily not his cheesy Doritos.

Of the other cast members, the plump mouthed star of Fulci's New York Ripper Alexandra Delli Colli is only there to look good in her cream suspenders whilst pouting, her most difficult acting scene being when she's required to look vaguely scared whilst a group of Filipino tramps smear her naked body in face paint and strap her to a big paper mache wheel.

Luckily she manages this with great aplomb I'm glad to say, whilst Sherry Buchanan comes across as a dirtier (but less mental and with more teeth) Margot Kidder.

Wearing her dads clothes and with hair that hasn't seen shampoo for about six months she still manages to exude an air of clumsy back alley sexual hi-jinks.

Even - well especially if I'm honest - when strapped to a table after being scalped which would be a tall order for most actresses. 

 

The rest of the cast are kinda just there really, which is enough I guess.

Buchanan: Just wait till the shampooing starts.

As for the cannibal tribe, well it's the first time I've ever seen scary natives dressed only in thongs fashioned from rashers of bacon and mop top wigs but who's to say this isn't a realistic depiction of an ancient civilization?

Not me that's for sure.

Now to the zombies hordes (well I say hordes but there are only five of them, one of which is the directors mum) who, with make up that is a triumph for the seven year old hired to produce it using only the contents of the class arts and craft cupboard and accompanied at all times by a synth score that consists mainly of samples of a small boy farting whilst a dog with throat cancer barks backwards these undead terrors are guaranteed to strike mild apathy into the hearts of even the most hardened viewers.

Essential viewing.

here's one i made earlier.

To celebrate the 60th birthday of Blue Peter, here's the Unwell guide to our top ten favourite presenters....EVER!

No 'laugh now' or 'mooth shite-in' here tho' because frankly Blue Peter is brilliant.

So there.

10. Peter (have you ever met Steven's tailor?) Purves.

9. Peter Duncan (donuts).

8. John (I never done it) Leslie.

7. Janet (Sophie) Ellis (Bexter's mum).

6. Simon Groom(ing kids on t'internet - not really).

5. Yvette Fielding (supersonic).

4. Val (up the casino) Singleton.

3. John (Beast Master) Noakes.

2. Konnie (meow meow meow) Huq.

1. Sarah Greene (gables).

maiden taiwan.

With a bare-bones PC at my disposal I'm racing against the clock (and good taste) to catch up with this whole 31 Days of Horror thing - not that anyone gives a fuck - and after a scary Japanasty yesterday it's time for a terrifying Taiwanese take today, where a nutty scientist has created yet another frankly loopy virus that turns folk into zombies.

And guess what?

Yup, it's gotten loose.

Welcome to the - slightly - sexist world of...

Zombie 108 (2012).
Dir: Joe Chien.
Cast: Yvonne Yao, Morris Rong, Tai Bo, Jack Kao, Sona Eyambe, Chien Jen Hao, Chloe Lin, Dennis To and loads of other folk.

“I regret that I didn’t screw you to death.”

Bullet nippled and obscenely short shorts wearing young mum, Linda (Yao, who I'm assuming is the directors girlfriend ) wakes from a terrible - off screen - car crash to find her husband lying unconscious with a steering wheel stuck in his head and their small daughter, Chloe (Lin who's either a real child in her first film role or a well preserved dwarf), missing from the back seat.

Crikey, talk about starting with a drama.

She frantically (and very sweatily) begins to search the desolate streets before seemingly giving up and heading into a supermarket to steal some water.

Well, in the middle of a disaster you have to get your priorities right.

Sauntering around the fancy goods department on the look out for a new broom our  hot panted heroine comes across (not literally tho' maybe later) a sight that will haunt her nightmares for, oooh, minutes after.

It appears that the entire staff have turned into flesh eating zombies and are currently busy munching on the customers.

Don't you hate it when that happens?

Watch out watch out Nancy Lam's about!

Barely managing to flee the building with her life (or at the very least still fully clothed), Linda spends the next ten minutes dodging the undead and hoping her tits don't pop out before spotting Chloe on a street corner (they start them young in Taiwan) about to get eaten.

Racing across the road to grab her daughter she's surprised when a car veers in front of the pair and the driver beckons them in.

Quickly evading the mumbling monsters mum and daughter jump aboard, which would be all well and good if the inside wasn't decorated with hundreds of pictures of nude ladies.

Or the seats covered in spunk.

Linda quickly realizes that she has inadvertently stumbled into something much worse than the approaching zombie hordes.

And far more terrifying than Sir Jimmy Savile's camper van.

"I'm a wanderer, and always have been, so I love motor-homes and especially shagging in them. Sometimes I get home, check my post, shower and then shag a wean in the camper van outside!"

Smoothly jumping back a few hours to before these events unfolded - via the wonders of CGI and a heavy rock score - we're in the Taiwanese equivalent of Barry Noble's Astoria in Nottingham where business is looking good and the place is packed with drunken westerners, caged topless dancers and lots of folk in open necked white nylon shirts frugging away to Taiwan's answer to Black Lace.

Groovy.

In charge of the club (and the whole Ximen district) is the lard lovin' drug lord Susan (Rong, the far east's answer to Jono Coleman), aided and abetted by his motley gang of heavily armed bad boys.

Unbeknownst to the lardy one tho,' the local SWAT team are in the area with orders to evacuate the whole city due to the aforementioned scientist accidentally letting his virus loose.

It seems he mistook the test tube for a vial of KY jelly only realizing his mistake when his cock tried to bite him mid wank.

Not that Susan gives a damn about this seeing as he's currently cracked off his tits and surround by a bevvy of butt naked barely legal babes.

Do you think they'll eat her whole or will they spit that bit out?

Mistaking the police presence for a raid (which is another film entirely) Susan's boys unleash their massive weapons spraying death and destruction in the faces of the hapless cops before realizing the true enemy are the boys in blue, but those pesky extras painted green.

Quickly putting their differences aside the survivors must work together if they have any hope of making it thru' the night.

But the merry band are low on ammo and if that wasn't enough the token females are all dressed in spangly pants, bra tops and high heels which aren't the best things to be wearing in the middle of a zombie invasion.

Saying that tho' the director doesn't seem to mind as every other shot seems to be a crash zoom down someones cleavage.

Which I must admit is nice but does tend to destroy the scary ambiance somewhat. 

"I'm sorry, I have my woman’s period!"

Meanwhile poor Linda and her daughter (remember them?) are being held captive by the guy (Jen Hao looking for all the world like Matt Lucas in drag) who 'rescued' them earlier, turns out that he's a sex crazed, bacon obsessed rapist who's using the current state of city-wide panic to abduct young girls, chain them up in his basement and bugger them senseless whilst humming show tunes.

OK I made the last bit up but frankly nothing would surprise me by this point.

Cue a story stopping 20 odd minutes of full on rape action, made all the more uncomfortable by the directors insistence of finishing every assault with lingering soft focus shots of  Yvonne Yao's semi naked, sweat covered thighs and breasts.

Seriously I can't begin to describe how uncomfortably inappropriate this section is in what has been up until now a fairly action packed zombie shoot 'em up. 

I'd ask what was the director thinking but frankly I really don't want to know.

How your girlfriend really got that promotion.

Anyway after a bleach shower it's back with the rapidly dwindling group of gung ho gangstas and SWAT squaddies where things are looking decidedly grim for them too.

Susan's wife has turned zombie forcing him to shoot her in the head, the scantily clad female cop - I'm assuming all police women in Taiwan dress like Lara Croft, I've never been there so how would I know? - has disappeared during a confusing fight scene and a black American dude (music producer, composer, deejay and all round sexy man Eyambe) has turned up for no other reason than he can base jump.

Saying that tho' he is bloody good at it.

Just imagine skiing  down those.

Suffice to say that loads of stuff happens (gun fights, stealing cars, zombie attacks and, unfortunately more rape as entertainment) before the survivors stumble upon the bacon man's apartment looking for a safe haven...

With zombies at the door and a mentalist on the sofa the question is who will survive and more importantly how, if the zombie plague is only a few hours old, has the pervert managed to already capture three of them, built a holding device and trained them to power his flat by walking around a big wheel?

Some of these questions may be answered.

Only some mind.

Thought it best to warn you.

You haveta admire Joe Chien in some ways, given the chance to make a feature it's almost as if he was so worried that he'd never have another shot at it that he decided to throw every idea he'd ever had at this one movie before standing back and seeing what stuck, creating an enjoyable if totally incoherent mess of a movie.

I mean, the sheer number of characters involved would shame Game of Thrones, for the films meagre 83 minute running time there are over 30 main characters, some named, some not but all of them speaking.

From Linda and her daughter Chloe, whom we assume are going to be the main focus, thru to Susan, his wife and his cronies via the SWAT team - with it's unrequited love between two characters subplot and then the mad rapist, characters appear and disappear like magic, some even off screen leaving plot threads dangling like noodles from the serial killers chin.

Did I not mention there's one of those in it too?

A torn, tight vest top, the official uniform of the zombie apocalypse.

And if that wasn't enough then halfway thru' what's turning into a nice wee survival horror story a mad rapist appears from nowhere, complete with his own torture chamber resplendent with giant jars containing the bodies of pickled women and deformed babies whilst, as mentioned earlier a gaggle of the undead power his house.

It's this section, whilst being genuinely unsettling to watch - especially the scenes where the pervert begins urinating on Linda as she begs to see her daughter and when he bemoans the fact that he's going to have to wait a few years to 'enjoy' Chloe - belong in a different movie entirely, dragging, as they do the audience out of the fun atmosphere created so far and into something much darker.

And that's not necessarily needed.

Inside Jeremy Forrest's mind.

It's not all bad tho', with some scenes that are genuinely funny - the attack on the American druggies by the zombie stripper for example- and others which up the creepiness factor considerably.

It's just the other stuff (rape, sexism and erm even more rape with a touch of necrophilia) gets in the way.

A wee bit like real life then.

If Chien was hoping to make a movie in the same vein as Evil Dead 2 then he was about a third of the way there with this, if only he'd gotten someone to trawl thru' his ideas for him (preferably a woman so she can slap him when he descends to far into Benny Hill Territory) and keep him focused then it could have been a corker.

Unfortunately the sequel - Zombie Fight Club - is even more outrageously sexist and nonsensical which just goes to show that absolutely no-one ever takes my advice.

Enjoyable nonsense but be warned, you'll be seeing breasts in your sleep for months afterwards.

And not all of them will be as shapely as Yvonne Yao's.

Or your Mums.

little big planet.

Ended up getting a commission to do a poster for this a few months back (don't ask) so thought I'd rewatch it as part of 31 Days of Horror.


Will I never learn?


The Sinful Dwarf (1973)
Dir: Vidal Raski.
Cast: Torben Bille, Tony Eades, Anne Sparrow, Clara Keller, Werner Hedman and a load of other folk that frankly it's not worth listing. I mean they don't have this on their CVs so why should I make the effort?

Hvad var den mystiske dværgs perverse hemmelighed?

It's a hot summers day (by the fashions on show the temperature must be in the 70s) and a pig-tailed - and let's be honest slightly pig-nosed - young girl is happily playing hopscotch in a quiet street, not a care in the world and a warm smile on her freckled face.

Rounding a corner she comes across a strange little man (the late great Bille who at the time was Denmark's only profession dwarf actor) leading a yapping toy dog, Intrigued she bends down to pet it.

The toy dog that is not the dwarf.

"Hello pretty lady, I'm Olaf!" grins the dwarf in a friendly manner "Do you like my toy? I have many more upstairs in my house!" and with that he takes her by the hand and leads her to the run down boarding house he manages with his mother.

The girl is amazed at the amount of wonderful (re: creepy) toys spread out before her and turns to congratulate Olaf on his collection but as she does the evil little fella bonks her on the head with his walking stick.


We've all been there.

"Grine nu!"

Cue frighteningly 70s titles and compulsory inappropriate theme tune (more on these later) and we're on with the plot good and proper, being quickly introduced to a pair of down on their luck lovebirds; the flasher-macked 'writer' Peter (Eades, bizarrely enough last seen in the Danish/Indian musical drama The Melody of Love alongside Pavel Kadochnikov's granddaughter Nina Bergman - beat that Kermode) and posh tottie Mary (Sparrow, mother of Jack the famous pirate) who arrive at the boarding house looking for a place to stay.

Greeted at the door - as opposed to in the mooth - by Olaf's even freakier (if that were possible, which it is obviously or that last sentence wouldn't make sense) mother, the show tune singing, gin soaked, piss smelling lush that is Ms. Lila Lash (the genius that is Keller in her only film role outside your dad's home movies) the couple are quickly shown to their room which is a bargain at 6 quid a week by the way.


Excited at the thought of finally getting to sleep in a real bed - rather than under a bush - neither of them notice Ms. Lash licking her (hair) lip and eying up Mary's ample arse (with her none milky eye) as the enter the room.

You see it turns out that behind the Fawlty Towers-esque facade, Olaf and his mentalist mum are kidnapping nubile young girls and running a white slavery sex ring out the attic.


And a secret lemonade mine in the cellar.


But to be honest judging by the reactions of those poor half dressed (and half cut) girls they have chained up this may all be normal in Denmark.


Answers to the normal email address.

"Er det en blyant i lommen eller har du en massiv erektion?"

Olaf's main job (apart from luring the girls to the house and using a Curly Wurly bar as a ladder when he's cleaning the TV obviously) appears to be injecting pure heroin into the victims buttocks whilst screaming “I’m coming girls! I’m coming” with a huge dribbling grin on his face.

Whilst all this drugging and shagging is going on, Olaf's mother amuses herself by staggering about with a bowl of plastic fruit on her head pretending to be Carmen Miranda.

To be honest this is one of the few films that has ever made me miss living with my parents.

"Shite i måneden fæstet!"

Obviously the director reckoned that all this just wasn't scary enough and in a masterstroke introduces us to a fish-lipped piss stained drugs dealer named Santa Claus (former cinematographer and production manager Hedman) who delivers the drugs inside stuffed animals.


And this, dear readers, is why folk voted Brexit.


Peter and Mary tho' are oblivious to all this, being too busy thrusting and wriggling on top of each other in a very energetic manner to notice the sounds of sobbing and smell of vinegar and shame emanating from the attic.

And when Peter gets himself a job leaving Mary home alone with Olaf and Lila
little does she suspect that she is next on their list of tanked up tottie to be....

As far as short arsed cinema classics go, The Sinful Dwarf is up there (but not too high obviously) with the best.

One of the strangest (and undoubtedly one of the sleaziest) of a small sub-genre of deadly dwarf movies this UK/Danish (with possible US backing too possibly) co-production feels like a weird hybrid of slasher movie, exploitation cheapie, European arthouse and dodgy porn film that's been forced into a rusty old sausage maker, minced and squeezed out onto a filthy, chipped plate before being served up by a club-footed hook-handed harlot with bad breath and breasts like cheese filled condoms.


From it's shocking, head bashing opening thru it's unsettling titles (consisting, as they do of close-ups of wind up toys tottering around gaudy lettering as Danish avant garde composer Ole Ørsted mixes the sound of a troupe of clockwork monkeys banging drums and smashing cymbals with a bass guitar *), The Sinful Dwarf delivers shocks and sleaze by the (scuzzy) bucketful, leaving the audience in need of a good bath and a gallon of mouthwash.

Honestly, it's THAT good a movie.

"Is it in yet?"

And what of the ‘sinful' dwarf himself?

Sporting a greasy moptop, a huge tombstone grin and (very) kissy lips, Torben Bille is truly magnificent.

Hobbling around and lusting over anything with breasts, his 'unique' lisping delivering of his English dialogue is a masterclass in villainy, coming across like the bastard son of Don Estelle and Jimmy Krankie on crack, trapped in an endless summer season review in Torquay.

Plus when you realize that he and Anne Sparrow were actually a couple during filming the whole scummy, spanked arseness of the proceedings take on an even more sleazy - and slightly more erotic if I'm honest - turn.

Full of 'wah wah' guitars and close-ups of sagging, old men arses thrusting up and down on drugged up, dirt covered girls this is one of those rare films that genuinely does have something for everyone and not even hatchet man Vidal Raski’s lacklustre direction can ruin it.

Essential viewing for the whole family.

But especially your Uncle Peter.








*And you can hear it here.

sin excess.

Day 6(66) of the whole 31 Days of Horror thing and it's about time to make our acquaintance with....

The Devil Inside (2011).
Dir: William Brent Bell.
Cast: Suzan Crowley, Fernanda Andrade, Evan Helmuth, Ionut Grama, Simon Quarterman, Bonnie Morgan and the Devil, who is inside allegedly.

The Vatican did not endorse this film because it's pure evil. It probably talks about the devil and it's evil ways as he was a good person. Boycott this movie. If you see it you are doomed. - Some sad man on IMDB.

It's October 30, 1989 and fright eyed, shock haired Maria Rossi (Grange Hill's Ms. Soames herself, Crowley) has just murdered the two Catholic priests and obligatory Nun that were attempting to perform an exorcism on her.

Which is a shame if I'm honest seeing as they were only trying to help, I mean it's not like they fucked her kids or anything.

With hindsight this would probably have made the film a wee bit more realistic ans well as a lot more entertaining but I digress.

The Catholic Church are (is?) obviously none too pleased with these events so quickly spirit Maria away to a Vatican approved psychiatric hospital (where the staff all have American accents bizarrely, it's almost like they're not even trying) somewhere in Rome.

"We'll have nun of that!"

Jump forward twenty years and Maria's daughter Isabella (Confessions of a Teen Idol producer Andrade channeling Summer Glau after spending 18 months living on a council estate), alongside the frighteningly ferret like Michael (anagramical actor and Return of the Living Dead: Rave to the Grave extra Ionut Grama) is hard at work making a documentary about exorcisms in the hope of understanding a little more about her mentalist mothers case.

As you can probably guess this involves a trip to Rome to visit the special Vatican sanctioned school of exorcism.

It's whilst attending a lecture there that our heroine comes across a couple of groovy priests, Dominic Keating alike Ben (Holby City's Quarterman) and the ball headed David (MechWarrior 4: Vengeance voice actor and junior Frank Black, Helmuth) who it transpires have both been performing illegal exorcisms for people in need.

Which is kinda lucky.

And would you believe it but the dog collared duo are actually booked to perform an exorcism - on the terrifyingly twisted (both physically and mentally) Rosalita D'Evilsplaygrounde (contortionist Morgan, best known for being a hot redhead and playing the lead beast in JT Petty's magnificent The Burrowers) -  that very afternoon so offer to take Isabella along to watch.

Isabella, obviously excited at the thought of seeing a young teen girl tied to a bed and covered in piss and shit in someone's basement immediately says yes and heads to the car.

Morgan: Spiced.

The Catholic crew, having already determined that it's a case of real possession rather than bad period pains or something are all set to get Holy on her arse and as Michael sets up his camera we're treated to ten minutes of saucy, cock based remarks, a wee bit of wall climbing and finally some bloodied piss before the devilish dame spookily shouts out for Isabella, despite having no knowledge of her.

Creepy.

Eventually tho' our heroes manage to expel the demon before returning home to celebrate with a Cuppasoup and a communion wafer.

Yum.

"The power of Christ compels you to shite in man mooth!"

Deciding that she can't put it off any longer Isabella finally goes to visit her Momma Maria in the asylum, where she finds that not only can her mum speak in a variety of comedy accents that would put Bobby Davro to shame but has also become proficient at painting religious iconography over the walls in her own shite.

Which is certain to break the ice at parties.

But that's not all, for it appears that she can also read minds, telling Isabella off for having a secret abortion before letting rip an ear-shattering scream.

Returning to her hotel and no doubt hoping to see her mother in the same S and M style situation as Rosalita, Isabella asks David and Ben if they'd like to try their powers on an old lady for a change and Ben, obviously being up for a bit of saucy MiLF action (he looks the type) agrees.

But as the Papal posse prepares to perform the exorcism David begins to have second thoughts, worrying about losing his job and - more importantly - if he really should have eaten that last doughnut.

Well it's too late for weighty worry now seeing as it's almost exorcism time.

"Yes it was me....I did indeed eat all the pies".

Heading back to the hospital our Godly gang hardly have time to get their holy water bottles open when Maria starts accusing Ben of bad things and harping on about Isabella's dead baby before breaking free of bonds and, with one punch sending Ben flying across the room before twisting David's nipple.

It's not too surprising then when the hospital staff run in and chuck this 30 something Scooby gang out on their ear.

Bruised, beaten but back home safe Ben carefully analyses the video and audio files they recorded that night in the hope of having enough evidence to convince the Church that an exorcism is needed whilst poor David sits in his room dribbling and crying like a depressed bouncy castle.

Playing the audio files over and over (whilst no doubt looking at nun porn), Ben notices that when Maria was shouting "I know what you did" at her daughter that there are, in fact four different voices speaking in unison.

Ergo, . four different demons.

Which is a surprise to say the least seeing as the budget barely stretches to doing one convincingly.

Davro: Terrifying things.

The next morning David, in an attempt to cheer himself up, offers to is to perform a baptism at his local church and Michael, desperate to make some extra cash, tags along to record it.

The service starts without incident or too many dodgy short skirts and fake tans and everything seems to be going swimmingly until that is David starts muttering some Biblical shite and tries to drown the baby in the holy water.

The parents, after making sure that Michael has got the footage on tape - well that is £200 on You've Been Framed -  save the baby as dangerous Dave passes out in the pews.

The should count themselves lucky tho' that he didn't do what any normal priest would do and try fucking it instead.

Buying a second hand sex doll off Ebay had it's drawbacks.

Returning home after a hard days praying Ben finds David sitting in his room covered in blood and egg with his eyes rolled back into his bulbous head.

Not noticing any difference he begins to make supper only to be interrupted when the local police turn up to arrest our portly pal.

In the ensuing struggle David somehow acquires an officer's gun and decides to hold himself hostage by popping the barrel firmly in his kissy lipped mouth leaving Ben to try and calm him down in the vain hope of preventing a mess on the new wallpaper.

With all this kerfuffle going on David starts crying and reciting The Lord's Prayer before giggling like a loon and shooting himself.

And if that wasn't enough, Isabella starts to spew blood before fainting.

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

Taking her to the hospital (but not alas up the casino) Ben is suddenly hit by the realization that Maria's demons are jumping ship and possessing anyone they come into contact with, David first and now Isabella, his fears confirmed when dozens of hospital staff run into Isabella's room screaming something about a bendy mentalist stabbing a nurse.

In the confusion Ben and Michael drag Isabella into the hallway and dose her full of sleepy drugs in order to take her to see a proper exorcist.

Oh right, so now Ben admits he's only an amateur.

Leaving with Isabella dumped in the back of a car, Ben comforts her while Michael sweatily drives but Isabella awakes, taunting Ben about all the horrible things he's done before attempting to strangle Michael.

Ben attempts to beat her off (saucy) but not before Isabella has (laughingly) breathed all over Michael causing him to lose control of the car.

Oh yeah and become possessed.

Will our heroes make it to the church on time?

Will Isabella possess the world?

Or will the screen suddenly turn black as car crash sound effects are played before a caption appears saying 'Find out what happened next at www.therossifiles.com ?

There's no way a director would ever pull something as shite as that would there?

Well you have to hand it to director William Brent Bell, you've got to have balls as big as Bristol to even consider releasing something as horrendously bad as this on the viewing public without fear of a kicking.

And to release a movie without an ending and expect folk to not be a little pissed off at having to find out what happens online is either the height of arrogance or the first sign of mental illness.

But then what do you expect from the guy who made Stay Alive, that 2006 Frankie Muniz starring shitefest that mixed video games and Elizabeth Bathory into one big steaming pile of PG rated cinematic slop?

The acting is almost non existent, the direction is cack handed at best and the plot for what there is of it, is as thin as lead 'actress' Fernanda Andrade's almost anorexic legs.

Need I go on?

Probably not but I should at least mention the fantastically crap photoshopping in the flashback photo scenes, they couldn't have been any worse if they'd given a pair of blunt scissors and Prit-stik to a hook handed child and just let him go crazy.

Sod that they should have let him write and direct the thing as well.

I mean it couldn't be any worse.

Avoid like your uncles cock.

mattei son.

Been indulging in a wee bit of a Bruno Mattei fest recently and realised that the review of this had been sitting unloved for about 9 years in a dirty blog backwater.

To add insult to injury I re-reviewed the first part of this series fairly recently.

Zombies: the Beginning (AKA Zombi: La creazione. 2007).
Dir: Bruno Mattei (as Vincent Dawn).
Cast: Yvette Yzon, Gerald Acho, Alvin Anson, Dyane Craystan, Jim Gaines, Paul Holme, B.B. Johnson, James Gregory Paolleli and Mike Vergel.

Discovered floating on a makeshift raft somewhere off the coast of Saltcoats, the lone survivor of the good ship Dark Star, Sharon ( Yzon, back for more) is taken to a local hospital by a group of hunky yet spookily dubbed medics where, unlike the previous films ending, she doesn't die and return as a zombie but just has bad dreams about rising from the dead instead.

What a cheat!

If that wasn't bad enough, the insurance company seem hell bent on blaming her for the loss of the ship/death of the crew rather than believe her tale of marauding zombies, creepy Conquistadors and flamenco dancing demons inhabiting an island that can't be found on any nautical map.

I mean, who'd make that shit up?

"I never done it!": Yzon, Shot to fuck but
still fitter than your mum.

Whilst the fat cats tut loudly Sharon is forced to swear at an old woman and knock a glass of water over before stomping off in a huff to live in a monastery.

As one would if you'd been pulled up at work accused of killing your workmates.

And writing off the delivery van.

No, it's not a pearl necklace nor did I give it to here.

Skip forward a year and Shazza is still in the monastery, sleeping on the floor, having flashbacks to the last movie (on a plus side tho' the monks outfit and slicked back hair makes her look hotly exotic), fetching water and other stuff that monks do when, out of the blue (well, out of a car but you know what I mean) one Mr. Barker (Holme), representative of an important pharmaceutical company The Tyler Company (that is no way related to The Umbrella Corporation or even the Tubular Corporation) turns up to see her.

Seems that six months earlier his company sent a scientific team to the very same island to capture a few undead specimens to transport to a secret lab to experiment on.

All contact with the team has been lost so Barker wants Sharon to head up a rescue mission, consisting of a squad of tough marines, one of which looks like a down at heel, heroin addled stripper (yes, I'm talking about you Craystan), the aforementioned Barker and a geeky scientist to the island to discover what's happened.

Hang on, this plot sounds very familiar.

"I can see your house from here Yvonne!"

Arriving at the secret island research centre (in reality a couple of lean to sheds and a disused tennis court) via a model submarine filmed against a fishtank our happy go lucky marines head towards some stock footage of a gas works in the vain hope of unraveling the mystery of the disappearing scientists.

Hint: zombies may be involved.

Setting up camp in a disused lab the team are horrified (well I think the reaction is horror, it may be mild apathy) to discover row upon row of strange, coffin-like glass containers housing all manner of bizarre, genetically altered humans (oh, and a few Tiny Tears dolls painted green) and a wall of steel cages containing a dozen or so very dead (and very naked) Filipino extras.

Suddenly and without warning (well, if you discount the slightly scary music building to a crescendo and monsters eye view of the scene) a hideously deformed, split stomached woman lunges out of the shadows towards a terrified Barker.

Luckily studly marine Taylor (Anson) is on hand to shoot her in the face whilst grimacing badly.

Deciding that it'd probably be a good idea if they had a wee look around and secured the area (rather than all vying to get into shot whilst trying to look the most scared), tough guy Thompson (loud voiced Acho...bless you) leads the squad into what looks like a post rave warehouse to look for any survivors.

After what seems like an eternity of Thompson shouting orders whilst lard arse Private Ludman (Vergel) quotes entire pages of Hudson's dialogue from Aliens the eventual gloom and deathly silence is abruptly broken by the 'ping ping' of the teams motion detectors.

Someone (or something) is approaching...

Could it be a vile mutant thing?

An undead horde?

A giant chicken perhaps?

no.

It's a naked dwarf, covered from head to (tiny) toes in green house paint wearing a pair of joke shop Austin Powers-esque teeth and a paper mache headpiece with a ping pong ball eye stuck to the top.

Dribbling.

Taking a minute to compose themselves (and no doubt a filming break to dry their eyes), our macho mob do what any self respecting person would (no, they don't pick the wee fella up and give him a hug).

They torch the freaky fucker with a flamethrower.

...Iggle Piggle's not in bed....

Legging it back to the lab like a pack of terrified Brownies escaping from a tent with a spider in it, Ludman spends the next ten minutes complaining that 'We're not equipped for this shit!' (what? how can you not be equipped for setting fire to dwarfs?) and trying to convince a by now almost sonic booming Thompson that they should all go home.

Just when it looks like they may just pack up and call it a night (which had me worried cos it means I'd have to pick another movie to watch and I've only got Black Sun- The Nanking Massacre, a compilation of Doctor Who fan films and Bloody Beast within reach at this point), the stripper points out that she's found the location of the missing members of the scientific crew. It seems that each one has a special tattoo that works a bit like a car alarm or something which means that the mission is back on (much to Ludman's delight).

Everyone gets suited and booted for a quick trip to the bases underground power core to grab the scientists and head home in time for tea.

"Rrrrrrrraaaaaauuughhhhhhhh Rrrrroooowwww!"

Leaving Barker, Shazza, specky Brit science guy and man in charge Lt. Gorman (well, this movies equivalent) behind to watch the teams progress on teevee the squad sneak across the car park, behind the bins and into the (wooden doored) power station.

Moving deeper and deeper into the complex they come across a vast (well, I say vast, it's about the size of a small kitchen) storeroom filled with plastic wrapped bodies suspended from hooks, slime oozing from the walls and an unnatural and thoroughly evil eggy smell emanating from a large vent in the wall.

And if that wasn't enough, on a large table in front of them lies a frighteningly pregnant woman with oozing excema and really bad dentures.

Kramer (still shit faced on cheap crack), being the lady of the group, goes over to comfort this poor wreck, who can only mumble "kill me" before her stomach erupts in a shower of grue revealing a melted doll covered in syrup.

Cue the flame thrower (well they have paid thru' the nose to hire it).

Exotic sweaty girls with machine guns....
what all cinema should be about.

Whilst all this is happening, Private Soontodie nervously peers thru' the hole (probably looking for biscuits) just as a horde of unwashed homeless extras crawl out, moaning and shuffling like a band of Glasgow neds on a Saturday night out.

The soldiers panic and start firing off indiscriminately before legging it back to the school bus (sorry, armoured personnel carrier) parked outside.

Shazza, stuck behind a teevee monitor watching a bunch of highly trained fighting machines running screaming thru' dingy corridors whilst piss stained tramps try to bite their arses, decides it's time to act (no, i'll resist the temptation to comment), grabbing a big gun and charging to the rescue whilst Barker stands around stroking his beard and Gorman repeatedly takes off his hat and rubs his head in a kind of 'what the fuck have I agreed to be in?' manner.

"It's Cccccccchhhhhrrrrriiiissstttmmmaaassss!!!!!!"

After an explosive shoot out and subsequent rescue that would make a gang of five year olds playing soldiers proud the survivors regroup in a nearby kiddies playhouse to plan their next move.

And it's not looking good for our heroes.

The submarines not due back for a fortnight, they're almost out of ammo and it looks like there's a traitor in their midst.

Kramer as it turns out, is the teams electronics expert (everything else I can accept but this is a leap too far) and volunteers to go out and fix the antennae array (from the state of her I wouldn't trust her to fix her own make-up) whilst the others sit about and sweat.

Everything seems to be going to plan until Barker tries to kill Sharon (yup, he's a bad guy, trying to sneak zombies back to the mainland to help cure cancer or something), Kramer gets ripped in half by a gorilla (no, really) and the undead break thru' the cardboard lab doors hungry for flesh (and by the way they look at Taylor a wee bit of tanned manass too).

Inside Gary Glitters mind.

The retreat is short and bloody leaving only Taylor and Sharon alive and stuck in the back of a van surrounded by the undead (and unwashed).

But it's not all doom and gloom, luckily Kramer's sacrifice (oh, OK, stupidity in not seeing a bloody great gorilla) wasn't in vain, she managed to send an SOS to the sub and it'll be on site in an hour or so.

Giving Sharon just enough time to head into the bowels of the base to confront the real horror behind the zombie menace....

Mattei had a hard job ahead of him if he was going to match the all round shoddiness and ineptitude of Island of The Living Dead when he decided to film this nail biting sequel - luckily he managed to not only match it but in some ways even surpass the unbelievable levels of incompetence achieved previously.

The plot (and much of the dialogue) is borrowed wholesale from Aliens - as well as the director's own Shocking Dark - with the climax of the Luigi Cozzi classic Contamination thrown in for good measure, all held together by the largest collection of non actors ever assembled in one room, every one of the bravely and with surprising straightness, uttering the most clichéd and banal dialogue ever committed to celluloid.

And frankly it's a joy to behold.

Yvonne contemplates the stuffed crust.

Throughout the rot there are shots that echo the greatness of Bava and Argento, reminding you of Mattei's early career as a film editor and whilst none of his films ever live up to there basic premise, his unwavering belief in and love for horror cinema coupled with his willingness to embrace new technologies and ideas enabling him to carry on working well after most of his contemporaries had thrown in the hat.

Never anything less than totally entertaining, Mattei's gore soaked swansong is the perfect end to an illustrious career in zombie cinema.