sexy (blood) beast.

31 days of horror day 7 and I'm onto the good stuff.

It's quality all the way from this point on.

Brides of Blood (AKA Brides of Blood Island, Grave Desires, Terror on Blood Island 1968).
Dir: Eddie Romero, Gerardo De Leon.
Cast: Beverly Hills, John Ashley, Kent Taylor, Mario Montenegro, Eva Darren and the fantastic Bruno Punzalan.

Lusting for women it terrified the land! Which is also an apt description of your uncle Pete.

Slick haired and snake hipped Peace Corp volunteer Jim Farrell (Filipino fright film fave Ashley) alongside the cut-price Clark Gable-a-like Dr. Paul Henderson (Psycho à Go-Go's Taylor) and his wife, the classy chassised bleached bimbette Carla (Beverly Hills...not her real name) are traveling to the spookily named "Blood Island" for a six-month stay.

But why would they do such a thing? I hear you ask.

Well, Henderson is heading there to study the effects of atomic testing on local flora and fauna (as you do) whilst Farrell's going to build stuff for the natives (and hopefully score with a few of the grass skirted sex kitens that live there).

And Carla?

Well she's accompanying her hubbie in order to show off her arse in in a variety of Capri Pants three sizes too small.

Just like your mum when she goes to Spain with her mates.

Your Auntie Jean, up the casino, Brighton, 1967....YESCH.

Upon arrival our heroic trio are surprised to find the usually friendly locals glumly carrying a couple of dead bodies towards the beach, which either means a burial at sea or they've gone to the wrong island and stumbled across Joe D'Amato filming another of his cannibal porn epics.

There's no time to check tho' as one of the body-bearers trips, dropping a cloth covered corpse onto the ground with a rubbery thud and our merry trio are shocked to see that the body has been literally torn to pieces.

Well I say shocked but Ashley - with his cinematic back catalogue -  is kinda used to this sort of thing by now and dear old Beverley is too busy concentrating on walking and talking at the same time to notice.

God bless Kent Taylor tho', who gives it his all, twitching and grimacing exactly like your dad at the point of climax.

Trust me I know. 

Luckily Frank Arcadio the English speaking, tea cosy hatted tribal leader (and buddy to Henderson) is on hand to helpfully explain that the two girls were involved in an "accident" and that there's really nowt to worry about.

Especially not radioactive monsters.

No sir.

Before anyone can ask any awkward questions Arcadio mentions that he's prepared a slap up meal of crisp sandwiches and fizzy pop back at his hut so our trio, hungry from all that traveling and corpse gazing excitedly follow him home.

Everything is going swimmingly (if a little stilted tho' that could just be the acting) until Arcadio - handing out fun size Twix's for dessert whispers in a hushed tone that things are a wee bit mental on the island at the moment and, for their own safety that they should really leave.

Right now if not sooner.

Dr. Henderson looks on concerned and nods thoughtfully but Jim is otherwise engaged as he gazes longingly at Arcadio's beautiful granddaughter Alma (the dusky beauty that is Eva Darren, currently doing Stirling work as Thelma in the hit TeeVee soap Magpakailanman) whilst sweating like Jimmy Savile opening a girl guides camp.

Eva: Not green.

Ignoring Arcadio's warning the group head off to bed with Henderson particularly excited about beginning his research the next morning much to his wife's chagrin who decides to sit up all night smoking whilst seductively flashing her ankles at any tribesfolk who wander by.

Jim by this point is already in his tent, searching his backpack for tissues and a Pot Noodle.

As dawn breaks Henderson is already up and about searching for samples in the jungle whilst a bored looking Carla lies wistfully against a tree, her frankly terrifying breasts pointing skywards like silk covered weapons of mass distraction, her scarily pointed bra barely holding their awesome power in check.

The beauty of her surroundings seems to have a calming effect on Carla tho' as she decides that rather than attempting to seduce the locals she'll try to rekindle the Doctor's love for her and to this end starts poking around in the bush for something nice to give him as a present.

It says a lot about Carla that she decides that a massive mutated land crab would make a perfect romantic gift and excitedly hands it to her hubbie.

Rather than trying to shag it as she has everything else that moves.

Giving it a quick once over he decides that the creature is irrefutable evidence that radiation has affected the island.

Hmmmm....you think so?

With the (stock footage and filtered) sun setting, the Henderson's return to the village (with the crab in a shoe box) only to stumble across what appears to be the tribes own version of the National Lottery draw, except this one features purple smoke, drums and a couple of scantily clad laydees crying in a corner.

Which actually sounds pretty exciting.


Well it'd make me consider buying a ticket.

Inside John Leslie's mind.

With some poor old guy from the local unemployed group dragged up like Mystic Meg he totters about on a pair of homemade Cha-Cha heels for what seems like an eternity before angrily pointing none too happy native girls and gesturing to a couple of hunky, spear wielding warrior types to carry them off into the jungle.

Our dynamic duo (with Jim close behind -he can obviously smell distressed female from a mile away) give chase but before they can catch up with the procession they are accosted by the bald, cod-eyed Goro (Black Mama White Mama's Punzalan), servant of the enigmatic Mr. Esteban Powers (Mario Montenegro), owner of the islands only brick house and winner of the Butlins Skegness Dezi Arnez look-a-like competition a record breaking 5 times between 1955 and 1961.

It appears that Goro has been skulking about in the trees since they arrived on the island in the hope that they'll accept Mr. Powers invite of dinner and offer to use of his estate for the duration of their stay.

Which sounds as good a reason as any for hiding behind a bush watching scantily clad babes being carried away screaming, so the party (totally forgetting about the sobbing girls as soon as free food is mentioned) accept heartily.

Dominic Littlewood goes undercover as a genie to report on dangerous garden centres and terrifying things.

Arriving at Powers' estate (after a slight fright involving a killer bush...yes really) the Henderson's and big Jim fail to notice (but not me, oh no sir) that not only is the entire house staff made up of dwarves, scurrying and leaping around the kitchens whilst Goro chases down then whips them but also that Powers has the face (and firm tight buttocks) of a 12 year old even those he alleges he's over 50.

To be fair tho' they're probably distracted by the fact that the promised slap up meal actually appears a plate of huge green bananas and jugs of weak piss.

Good to see they have their priorities right.

Making the most of a bad situation (and even worse script) our heroes tuck into dinner, enjoying Goro's dwarf baiting in between Dr. Henderson tediously giving everyone a lecture on the effects of atomic radiation whilst using the croissants to represent tumors, which is nice.

This may be important to the plot later tho', you never can tell.

Excited at the prospect of staying in a house with real beds and hot and cold running water (as opposed to weeping sores) Carla persuades her husband to let her stay over at Powers' House, he agrees that she can stay but explains that he must return to the village to fetch some 'special equipment'.

Jimbo too needs to stay in the village to 'assist' the new building work so the pair make their farewells and head off once more into the jungle.

Beverly Hills Cop (a feel of these babies).

Heading back to the village, they again cross paths with the sobbing girls, only this time they are both naked and tied to crosses in front of a giant paper mache statue of TeeVee funnyman Phil Cool.

Which if I'm honest is one of the most erotic things I've ever seen committed to celluloid.

Jim and the Doctor look on worriedly as they discuss whether to jump in and free the poor girls or just sit back and enjoy the show.

Luckily that decision is made for them when Arcadio, with the help of his silver tongue and a spear carrying posse turns up, diffusing the situation by explaining that they've just come across the local drama group rehearsing the village Christmas panto before taking the boys back to the village mightily impressed by the bound babes convincing acting.

You'll be surprised to know that Arcadio was in fact lying and that the girls are actually going to be sacrificed to 'The Evil One' an ancient spirit returned to wreak havoc on this idyllic paradise.

Jim and Henderson are barely tucked into bed (separately obviously) when strange Animalistic grunts, groans and farts suddenly begin to fill the air.

Laugh now!

Jim leaps from his sleeping bag and confronts Arcadio about the noise (and the smell) but our bonneted buddy remains tight lipped only saying that the whole thing was probably rats before heading off to his hut but Jim is undeterred, turning his charms on Alma.

Melting under Jim's salacious gaze she's about to spill the beans (and out of her top by the looks of it) but runs away sobbing as soon  as she hears the screams coming from the women in the trees.

Jim tries to follow her but is stopped by Arcadio brandishing his massive weapon, the shiny tip glistening in the moonlight.

Threatening to kill our slick-haired hero if he tries to interfere, Arcadio admits that he may have been a wee bit economical with the truth before breaking down in tears and exclaiming that the infamous 'Evil One' has returned.

Jim, finally realizing that being the only male cast member under 40 (just) he must actually be the films hero and donning his best Hawaiian shirt decides that it's his job to combat the terror threatening the village.

And how does he decide to do this?

By showing the villagers how to build an irrigation system for their fields and smiling seductively at Alma in the hope of getting information regarding the Evil One's plans from her.

And hopefully a wee cuddle too.

Luckily the latter part of the plan works and she tells him how the Evil One's violent urges can only be placated by the sacrifice of young virgin tottie.

But not as food for the beast oh no.

You see the hapless young (and firm) girls are given to him in order to quell his bizarre sexual urges.


Yup, the Evil One literally shags the sacrifices.....

TO DEATH.

"Put it in me!"

Meanwhile after returning to Chez Powers, Henderson is almost certain that Blood Island has been contaminated by atomic radiation from the tests.

No idea what swung it for him....was it the mutant crabs, man eating banana trees, giant killer moths or the horny man beast prowling around the forest?

We can but imagine.

There's a wee bit of good news tho' because it turns out that the resulting mutations are - kinda - reversible and only manifest themselves at night.

There's just one thing bothering Henderson tho' - well two if you count how his missis manages to squeeze into those blue hot-pants at this point of the movie - and that's the fact that the villagers themselves aren't affected by the radiation.

Powers, never one to let tension build,  informs him that they were all brought in as part of the US government’s resettlement program for peoples displaced by the atomic bomb tests.

And he should know, because he was on the island all the time nursing his radioactive wife.

Not to worry tho' the only side effects Powers has ever shown is bouts of migraine and a habit of waking up in his garden covered in blood, egg and semen.

Fuck me....it's Fred Titmus!

Hmmmm, I wonder....Could the nice Mr. Powers really be a sex starved atomic shag-beast?

Will Carla realize before she chases him into the forest (at night) wearing only a seductive Baby Doll nightie?

And will Alma win the island lottery?

Farrell and Henderson have only hours to put the pieces of the puzzle together before more innocent women (and Carla) become BRIDES OF BLOOD.

This second film in the late great Eddie Romero's cult 'Blood' series - co-directed with his long-time partner Gerardo De Leon -  invites viewers on a return journey to the notorious Blood Island made (in)famous in The Mad Doctor of Blood Island for an exciting tale of terror that features equal amounts of brutish beasts and bare breasts - the natives must strip the girls naked to be sacrificed as no doubt the beast can manage to tear them limb from limb but not remove their bra's - much to the delight of the delinquent drive-in crowds it was so obviously aimed at.

'Brides' is a no nonsense shoestring 'B' flick that despite it's low budget, still manages to deliver it's quota of scares and sexiness (take a bow John Ashley) that personifies perfectly this period of Filipino film-making mayhem.

Your wee sister will be OK then.

True, many of the 'effects' sequences are anything other than special (the obviously cardboard 'giant' mutant moth and the killer trees clearly visible strings) but everyone involved never takes the plot as anything less than deadly serious, which makes for a genuinely (at times) creepy film that never fails to entertain.



Plus if you do manage to get bored - tho' how is beyond me - you can always marvel in awe at the amount of highly coiffured hairstyles on show.

What your girlfriend really gets up to when she says she's working late.

The acting is uniformly adequate (with special mention to Kent Taylor as the so stoic he's almost solid granite Dr. Henderson) with the glowing exception of Ms. Beverly Hills.

No doubt cast for reasons other than her thespian skills, she lights up the screen like a large, tacky plastic glitterball from the pound shop every time she appears - her pneumatic breasts and gravity defying arse a true feat of engineering of which engineers everywhere should be forced to study.

My only disappointment is that after shagging and flirting her way thru' most of the male cast she never bothered to get in on with Mr. Powers' dwarf home help.

Oh well.

The shy, wallflower Beverly Hills in a rare non-posed shot.

But what of the films big selling feature?

The nightmarish Evil One?

In a classic case of enthusiasm over budget the beast is a joy to behold, looking as it does like a wart ridden swollen left testicle with chubby arms and legs, pointy cardboard teeth and torches for eyes it exudes menace and animal sexuality in equal doses.

Well it does if you find the thought of a drink sodden tramped up Mr. Blobby with scabs makes you damp with joy.

Just me then?

But fair play to the film makers who, rather than hide this stunning creation in the shadows come straight out and have it take centre stage.

"Not my wanking hand!"

Maybe not the best Filipino shocker ever made but definitely not the worst by a long stretch (that still has to be Super Beast), Brides of Blood is the perfect Friday night thriller.

Especially if like me you have no pals.

cod only knows.

Been trying to get the house tidy before Christmas but it's not been helped by the fact I keep finding DVDs behind cupboards in the boys room.

Came across this earlier so had to sit and give it a spin.

It's been too long.

L'Isola Degli Uomini Pesce (AKA The Island of the Fishmen, Screamers, Something Waits in the Dark, 1979 possibly 1980 or 1981)
Dir: Sergio Martino (and the enigmatic Miller Drake).
Starring: Barbara Bach, Richard Johnson, Bobby Rhodes, Claudio Cassinelli,  Joseph Cotton and depending on what version you watch maybe even Cameron Mitchell, Mel Ferrer, Tom J. Delaney, and Olympic sprinter Eunice Bolt.

Be Warned: You will actually see a man turned inside-out. Only you wont unless you're watching the trailer for the Corman recut.

It's a Johnny Depp free Caribbean Sea sometime in 1891 (tho' it's more like 1981 by the cut of the trousers) and we join our story as a bobbity boat approaches a mysterious fog enshrouded island that looks uncannily like Bronson Caves in Griffith Park in Los Angeles from a distance.

That can't be right tho' seeing as this is a cheap n' cheerful lo-fi Italian monster flick.

Oh right, this must be the bits Roger Corman did to beef up the running time/quality for a more sophisticated audience.

Anyway back to the plot where aboard the aforementioned steamer is the bubble-pipe blowing salty sea dog Captain Blacken Decker (professional scenery chewer Mitchell) who's been hired to bring failed gambler - both onscreen and off - Daniel Radcliffe (Mel 'my illustrious career' Ferrer) and his 'beautiful' wife Samantha (Bolt) to search the island for a fabulous buried treasure fabled to lie in the spookily monikered Cave of the Dead.

Which is nice.

Wandering into the dark opening Daniel and Samantha soon stumble across some shite-encrusted pound shop skeletons clutching a big bag of chocolate coins and excitedly head back to the boat.

Which makes you think that if the treasure was so easy to find why has no-one else bothered getting it before now?

Well that might have something to do with the killer fishmen (hidden in the shadows to make it easier to match them to the original costumes later) that are currently ripping the heads off the crew before getting to work on our three guest stars.

It might only be a cameo for Ferrer but don't worry too much, Nightmare City awaits.

"Is it in yet?"

A new day dawns on different film stock (and in a totally different location, we're now in the Philippines, where permits are cheap) as we start the film good and proper - and as the original director intended -  with ships doctor Kemp De Ross (the late, great Claudio Cassinelli) and some criminal types drifting ashore on the same island (honest) after the prison ship they were traveling on ended up  sinking during a typhoon.

Waking on a pleasant Club 18-30 style beach De Ross is unnerved by the discovery of the dead body of one the prisoners, I've no idea why tho'...seeing as he's just been thru' a typhoon and a boat smashing but hey perhaps he has a fear of damp courdroy who knows? anyway he soon comes to his senses and heads off to look for survivors.

From the shipwreck that is not episodes of the hit 70s Terry Nation show.

Tho' Ian McCulloch turning up probably wouldn't do this movie any harm.

Almost immediately he runs across a small group of drip drying criminals who've decided to pass the time shouting 'I'm going to kill/bugger/eat/pick on you!' at the only other surviving authority figure whilst shaking their fists in a fairly comical manner hoping among hope that the dubbing director does them justice.

No chance really but they can but dream.

Luckily for the viewer the palatable air of community drama group tension is soon dissipated when slimy French crim Francois (probably one of the paparazzi responsible for Princess Di's crash) is ripped to pieces by a large half man/half Cod with big stick on finger nails.

Laugh now!

The convicts react as anyone would in this situation and run screaming and shouting into the trees and straight into an ancient tribal burial ground full of empty graves.

By this point I was sure that they run aground on the worlds most clichéd - and cheapest -  haunted house attraction.

All that's missing is a few rubber snakes draped on the branches.

Jose (a nice criminal), in what is probably the films best scene starts shouting about how the whole thing "reeks of that voodoo shit....reckon that the island is full o' zombies getting ready to eat our asses!"

Which if it did happen would make this an altogether different and probably much more entertaining film.

Maybe a wee bit like this one.

Unfortunately no zombies (ass eating or otherwise) show up but a rubber snake - which is indeed hanging of a tree -  does but any slithery shenanigans are cut short by the shooting skills of the 70's breasted, fluffy haired Amanda (The Spy Who Loved Me, The Humanoid and Caveman star Bach) who then - either quite enigmatically quite woodenly) wanders off into the undergrowth.

My head is in a spin
My feet don't touch the ground
Because you're near to me
My head goes round and round
My knees are skakin' baby
My heart it beats like a drum

It feels like
It feels like I'm in love....with a huge cod.

Being deprived of any female contact for months our motley crew follow thru' the 'jungle' (OK it's a garden centre but at least they're trying) to a big house - a very big house in the country possibly - guarded by fierce looking natives.

Well I say fierce natives but the cruel reality is it's guarded by some obviously uncomfortable extras - probably the local jobseekers group) hastily facepainted and forced into tiny leather pants and a collection of feathery festooned hats.

It's a living I guess.

Turns out that the house belongs to a rich bad man named Edmund Rackham (Zombie Flesh Eaters star Johnson) who purchased the island on Ebay and is busy working alongside bubbly Babs, her kindly scientist dad (B-movie stalwart and father of Ferne, Cotton) and the chicken killing Voodoo priestess cum maid Shakira (the slinky-hipped pop princess herself  in her first film role) on some project or other that will upon completion benefit the whole of humanity.

Or at least his wallet.

You know my hips don't lie. ... Oh I know I am on tonight my hips don't lie. your fingers smell of salt and vinegar chipstiks.

Invited to lunch De Ross (and by default us) soon learns that the island is in fact all that remains of Atlantis - and no I didn't see that coming - and Rackham is planning to steal all of the fabled Atlantean gold in order to fund a worldwide chain of hat shops catering for the larger headed man.

It appears that as a child Rackham was cruelly taunted at school for having an overly large brow meaning that his school cap didn't fit so he had to wear a discarded pair of his fathers pants instead.

Trust me I know what that can do to a child.

Realizing that this might be too big a job for just the four of them - and the fact that the treasure is lying within a temple two thousand feet below the surface - Rackham has decided to employ the local fish men - on zero hour contracts obviously - as a labour force.

Obviously he's never visited The Cave of the Dead, that place is full of the stuff.

Maybe he's been too busy to take a stroll along the beach?

Or maybe, just maybe the continuity between the original film and Corman's footage is just shit?

Answers to the normal address.

But Rackham has a secret.

It seems that the drug addicted fish folk working for him are not, as De Ross thought, the survivors of a long forgotten race but something much more sinister....

Well I say sinister but let's be honest how sinister can a man in an oversided mackerel mask actually be?

Same shit, different smell.

Best known for his Giallo work (oh yes and the star studded spleen sucker  Mountain of The Cannibal God) director Sergio Martino, for his first foray into sci-fi pays tribute to H G Wells (specifically his novel The Island Of Dr. Moreau)  and luckily for us it's way more entertaining than the big budget Moreau movie starring Burt Lancaster that was released two years previously.

Which sounds like damning with faint praise but heyho.

And at least with Martino's vision we're spared the sight of Richard Basehart dolled up like an albino Care Bear and Michael York in an ill fitting set of Austin Powers style teeth.

In its favour tho' it does have Barbara Carrera pretending to be a slinky cat whereas Martino is stuck with Barbara Bach attempting to emulate (and failing) a large piece of plywood.

And bizarrely enough both Johnson and Lancaster appear to be wearing the same costumes - and fake facial hair - perhaps there was a sale on?

So swings and roundabouts really.

Barbara Carrera: hairy back and arse.

But back to The Island of the Fishmen (or Screamers or is it Something Waits in the Dark? Fucked if I know) where whatever the film lacks in budget (or good sense) it more than makes up for in pizazz, the monster suits aren't too shoddy - in a sort of community panto way that is, the island location is stunning and the sets look fairly sturdy whilst the cast (Bach excepted) seem to be taking it seriously enough.

Which is nice.

Martino regular Cassinelli is his usual reliable self and makes a likable hero whilst 'B' movie stalwarts Richard Johnson and Joseph Cotton battle to see who can sore the highest without the use of drugs or wings, chewing the scenery like giant Godzilla's and filling the screen with menacing ticks, large hats and mad eyed stares.

It's like watching a Euro-horror face off between an evil Chuckle Brothers.

Just slightly sexier obviously.

"I can see your house from here Peter"

Talking of sexiness it's at this point that Roger Corman steps into the picture - not literally mind but take a moment to imagine the great man himself turning up halway thru' and fighting an army of fishmen, cinema gold I'm sure you'll agree - when his New World Pictures acquired distribution rights to the film.

Thinking the original cut lacked a certain something (gore and an appearance by cinema slut Cameron Mitchell), Corman hired his teaboy Miller Drake to write and direct a new opening for the film alongside some new gore FX from
his paperboy at the time Chris Walas.

Enjoying his experiences so much Walas gave up delivering newspapers and took up special make-up effects full time, going on to work on such movies as Gremlins, Return of The Jedi and, um, The Fly II.

Which just goes to show that nobodies perfect.

He was also charged with beefing up the half man/ half cod reveal near the films climax which saw the originals frankly terrifying Giger-esque paper mache  monstrosity replaced with a far more subtle - and slimier - Creature From The Black Lagoon tribute.

It was upon seeing these changes at a Halloween showing given by John Landis that gave George Lucas the idea for the Star Wars special editions and to this day Lucas continues to retool and reimagine his movies in the hope of achieving the same stunning realism that Walas did all those years ago.

And for only 30 quid.

And so in the summer of 1980 and with its title changed to Something Waits in the Dark the film was finally unleashed on the American public.

Unfortunately no-one bothered to go see it.

Probably in part to having the worst fucking poster design this side of Rick Melton's deranged, tit-fuelled scribblings.

Oh and that wibbly-wobbly blood font didn't help.

Undeterred (and not wanting to waste any cash) Corman called his gardener 'Jungle' Jim Wynorski and asked him what he would do to make the movie a hit.

After a brief pause Wynorski suggested replacing the fishmen with a collection of flesh-eating conifers (he'd just bought a job lot and had them lying about in his shed), retitling the film Screamers and adding a scene where a man gets turned inside-out.

This latter part was due to him suffering from organophobia (a fear of internal organs) an affliction he'd suffered from since he was a child and meant that he always wore paper suits in public.

Unable to afford treatment on a gardeners salary Wynorski decided that by featuring such a scene in the movie he could face his fear and hopefully cure himself.

And by default others too.

The thought of being able to help sufferers of such a terrible condition was too great an opportunity for Corman to pass up (as was the chance of some cheap trees for his garden but that's another story) but there was a major problem.

The film had already been booked for a re-release the following week so there was only time to change the title card before it shipped to the cinemas.

Undeterred Corman allowed Wynorski to shoot the inside out man specifically for the trailer thinking that even if folk didn't go to see the actual movie - either because their phobia may stop them or just that they thought it looked shite - the fact that it would be in the preview might even reach and maybe even cure more people.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRANGERS!

The title changed seemed to do the trick and within a month of its release in June 1981, it became the biggest ever box office hit to be named Screamers and starring Barbara Bach ever released.

A record it still holds to this day.

And what of Jim Wynorski?

Luckily the film not only cured his organophobia but cemented his love of directing with him going on to direct such classics as Sharkansas Women's Prison Massacre, The Hills Have Thighs, Busty Cops 2 and Vampirella.

And for that we should be eternally grateful to Lord Roger.

Actually they don't....the girl standing in front of the hills does. Plus if you want to be precise about it that's a mountain range.

As a curious aside back in 1995 (ask your mum) Sergio Martino reurned to his magnum opus and directed a straight to TeeVee pseudo-sequel entitled The Fishmen and Their Queen featuring the Romanian-born Italian actress, singer, model and politician Ramona Badescu (as the Queen obviously).

Under the sea and inside my mooth.

Taking it's cues (and a shit-load of footage) from his 1983 hit 2019: After the Fall of New York, the 'plot' (what there is of it) follows the adventures of a couple of grubby teens as they escape from a post apocalyptic New York in the hope of finding a better life.

Tho' what life could be better than living the Italian movie dream is beyond me.

After a few so-so adventures that unfortunately don't feature either of them selling their arses for food they happen across an old tramp named Jeff  Socrates (Alien 2: On Earth's Mr Raymond himself Donald Hodson) who offers to take them to the island from the first movie because rumour has it that it's the only place on earth untouched by the nuclear fallout released during World War III.

Tho' by the state of the fishfolks massive green heads you'd be hard pushed to tell.

As you can probably guess it was utter shite, 

Tho' Badescu does wear a pretty crown in it, coming across like a council estate MiLF version of Ariel from The Little Mermaid.
 
Which is nice but probably not reason enough to bother searching for it.

My that's a bit of a sad way to end isn't it?

Sorry.

stryke it lucky.

With the elections coming up I reckoned it was time to review the various party leaders favourite horror movies.

First up is UKIP leader Nigel Farage's choice*, dealing as it does with immigration, foreign types and the like but under the guise of being an Italian zombie film.

Clever eh?

Zombie Flesh Eaters 3 (AKA Zombie 4: After Death. 1988)
Dir: Claudio Fagrasso.
Cast: Jeff Stryker, Candice Daly, Don Wilson, Massimo Vanni, Nick Nicholson, Adrienne Joseph, Jim Gaines, your mom and some tramps.

Somewhere on a remote South Pacific island (or more likely in the kiddies play park behind the directors house), a scientific research team have been working on a cellular regenerative thingy in the hope of finding a cure for ingrowing toenails and bad breath.

In an attempt to get the local (glam rock frocked) natives onside, top science bloke Dr. Godfrey Soontodie has offered to use this frankly bollocks scientific discovery to help cure the voodoo witch doctor's daughter of her terrifying bunions.

As is always the case in these situations the wee girl unfortunately dies.

It's off screen tho' so it's not that upsetting.

"Touch mah titties!"

Not too surprisingly the witch doctor takes offence to this news and decides to put the famous 'curse of the dead' on the island, its visitors and inhabitants.

Which is understandable if not a wee bit annoying for the rest of the tribe.

With a wave of his mighty (and very beefy) arms and a flash of homemade fireworks (but not alas a flash of old man thigh) literally all hell breaks loose.

Well it would if hell consisted of an old lady in an ill fitting Halloween mask and a pair of Austin Powers teeth seemingly faking an orgasm whilst dancing like Ian Curtis (post suicide) on crack.

Laugh now.

It's not giving too much away to say that the dead rise and kill everyone.

Everyone that is except the lead scientists blonde moppet daughter, Jenny who survives the carnage thanks to a magic amulet given to her by her mother.

Well it's either actually magic or so cheap and nasty as to repel any self respecting zombie that sees it.

You can decide.

Flash forward 15 years later and a rescue team, led by the hunky Chuck (porn idol Jeff Stryker in a rare 'straight' role) is finally dispatched to discover why no-one has been returning their calls.

Well they took their time didn't they?

Also on the island (by some strange quirk of fate) is a by now all grown up Jenny (the late, great Daly from The Young and the Restless) accompanied by the slightly less attractive Louise (Joseph from Birds of a Feather), rentalunk Rod (Nicholson) and a couple of dirty mouthed gypsies.

Sod all this character stuff tho' we want to know what Team Chuck is up to.

Well, whilst wandering around in a cardboard cave left over from Michele Soavi's 'The Sect' our hero comes across the mysterious Book of the Dead.

Which is a change from my boyhood years watching him coming across a variety of buff arses whilst pulling a face not too dissimilar to the one your grandad pulled when he had that stroke.

But enough of the homemade erotica you want to know how Chuck knows that it's the real Book of the Dead and not a shoddy knock-off one of the kind featured here.

Well it does have the words BOOK OF THE DEAD printed on the cover in big bold letters  so I guess that clinches it.

"Shite in mah tramp bearded mooth!"

Anyway back to the plot (for want of a better word) where Chuck, in a vain attempt to prove he can read unaided - but alas proving that he's never seen a horror movie - begins to shout random passages from the book - intercut with him shouting "Yeah baby! You're so fuckin' tight!" and pulling his cum face probably -  not realizing that the words, when read aloud are capable of bringing the dead back to life.

This'll be the same living dead that have actually been wandering around aimlessly for the past decade and a half from when that witch doctor read the same book, remember?

The writer obviously doesn't.

Some immigrants stealing our jobs and benefits yesterday.

Within minutes our heroes (well the folk on screen) are running for their very lives as hordes (I say hordes but I mean dozens) of foul smelling pikeys and illegal Eastern European immigrants (possibly) begin to rise slowly from their shallow graves intent on tasting the legendary Jeff Stryker's ample meat.

Or something.

Meanwhile in the grassy bit behind the bike sheds, jumpy Jenny and co. have problems of their own (discounting the obvious ones like lack of acting ability and bad breath) when a lone, maggot covered tramp (obviously symbolizing the EU) falls on them from behind a tree covering a hapless member of her party in sick.

Running away screaming they soon stumble across the deserted medical research facility (in reality the directors local scout hut) once run by Jenny's folks where they're soon joined (c'mon, the running times not that long) by Chuck who has managed to escape the scary flesh eaters by leaving his team to die whilst he sneaked away sobbing like a baby.

What a guy.

Luckily for the survivors this peaceful medical centre is chock full of weapons  giving the male cast members ample opportunity to pose in a topless sweaty manner whilst firing a variety of semi-automatic weaponry indiscriminately at various unpaid extras who are then expected to fall off roofs and be set on fire in the vain hope of securing a work permit or at least a new pair of shoes for their kids.

Ain't capitalism grand?

But the humans are fighting a losing battle as one by one they are overcome by the advancing dead.

Deciding the blow up the centre in an attempt to convince the zombies it's Bonfire night and thus giving the humans a chance to escape (plus they reckon it might add a wee bit of much needed excitement to the movie), sole survivors Jenny and Chuck make a break for the woods only to find themselves back in the very cave where the spooky witch doctor started the undead plague to begin with.

With the zombie army closing in and Chuck down to firing blanks, Jenny clutches the magic amulet, praying for a miracle.

Well it's either that or she's cursing her agent.

Insert cock...well anywhere you fancy really.

Will our toothsome twosome escape?

Will the UK rise up and tell Europe where to stick its fishing quota?

Will the zombie hordes attack Jenny and eat her whole?

Or will they spit that bit out?

Or will Chuck die whilst something slight and fairly incomprehensible happens to Jenny?

Jeff Stryker, up the casino, 1988...Yesch!

Best known for it's frightening amount of alternate titles (After Death being the most common and Zombi 4 being the easiest to spell) as well as being shot on sets constructed for Michael Soavi's 'The Sect' and filmed entirely using camera's and equipment 'borrowed' from the set of Bruno Mattei's 'Strike Commando 2' (which was filming nearby), Claudio Fagrasso's -AKA Clyde Anderson- Zombie Flesh-Eaters 3 is the near pinnacle of bad movie making made flesh, a cinematic black hole so dire that not even light can escape from it's spiny celluloid fingers.

Imagine the worst unsafe sex ever with the most foul, STD ridden, crab panted whore imaginable, then imagine that as you're about to cum (against your better judgement) you look down and realize that this pock marked, toothless crone you've payed £5 to probably catch AIDS from is, in fact, your Gran.

You know...the dead one.

This is the effect After Death can have on a normal cinema goer.

But saying that, imagine how amusing it would be if you saw this happen to a friend.

And you just happened to have a camera handy.

So I guess you pays your money you takes your chance.

Funnel or tunnel?

Wise men say that you can't choose who (or what) you fall in love with tho' and like the three legged dog you should put down but decide to nail to a skateboard, After Death stays with you long after the DVD has been ejected, just like Hepatitis C or the feeling of shame you get after watching your parents home made porn.

Obviously just before realizing halfway thru' that you're actually the star, propped up on top of the wardrobe, drugged up to the eyeballs and wearing a dress.

But if like me you're one of the special few that actually enjoys Fragrasso's work - especially his top notch collaborations with Bruno ('Zombie Creeping Flesh' and 'Rats : Night of Terror') Mattei  - then jump in and enjoy.

I know I did.

But to be honest I really think that I should get out more.

Our Nige seen here reenacting his favourite scene from the movie. No, I didn't realize that it featured a bit where a bigoted halfwit almost gets garotted by a biplane either. Must have been cut in the UK.

*If I'd actually asked him that is but if he's reading this then get in touch and I'll review the real one.

howl bennett.

Another day, another part of my birthday boxset...

Monsterwolf (2010).

Dir: Todor Chapkanov.

Cast: Leonor Varela, Robert Picardo, Marc Macaulay, Steve Reevis, Jason London, Jon Eyez, Griff Furst, Ricky Wayne, Nicole Barré, Amber Bartlett, Grant James, Dominick LaBanca, Chris J. Fanguy, Antonino Paone and Ritchie Montgomery.

"Jury duty is a civic duty".

Evil multinational oil company Badman Co. are busy digging huge random holes somewhere in the American backwoods - as oil companies do - when, after attempting to move an abandoned outside toilet with about 40 sticks of dynamite uncover what can only be described as a Stargate for dwarfs with a spooky blue flame hovering above it.

Ignoring the well known fact that such a phenomena could indicate the presence of natural gas and potentially blow everyone to fuck our fearless band of roughnecks continue blowing stuff up causing the flame to snuff it and a huge CGI wolf to appear in it's place and eat all the oil workers.

Grrrr!

"Teeth in mah mooth!"

Meanwhile back in town the nasty, balding executive in charge of Badman Oil Ned Stark (Star Trek: Voyager and Gremlins 2's Picardo) is busy going door-to-door in an effort to convince the local townsfolk to sell him their houses so that he can dig them up too.

Whilst a few citizens are concerned most our won over by Stark's secret weapon. No, not a gold and red armoured suit but his newly acquired lawyer Maria (Varela from Blade 2 and Dallas sporting some very nice tattoos), a local gal turned big city hotshot.

You see in an act of cunning the likes of which the world hasn't seen since Blackadder's Baldrick breathed his last, Stark reckons that the locals are more likely to listen to 'one of their own' - and the sheriffs daughter to boot - when it comes to his business proposition.

Unfortunately for him, Maria begins to get more and more disillusioned with her boss' evil ways (you know the type of stuff, shouting at the local shopkeepers, calling everyone 'hicks', wearing brown shoes with a black suit etc.) and ever closer to her jury duty dodging ex-boyfriend Yale Locke (Jason London), especially when anybody who actually sells out to Stark is almost immediately eaten by a big hairy wild dog.

Or could it be a supernatural type monster wolf?

Or even a, gulp, Monsterwolf (one word)?

Well the police, led by the roguishly moustached Sheriff Lennie Bennett (Feast 2's Macaulay) reckon it has to be a wild animal of some kind but after it attempts to eat Maria, gets squashed by a truck and then scoffs the drunken driver locked in a prison cell the authorities aren't too sure, leading our heroes (alongside comedy sidekick Cannock Chase played by actor/director Furst) to visit the local native American cum cliche ridden mystic Chief Turner (full time rent an ethnic Reevis).

Guns don't kill people, skin tight nipple revealing vest tops do. Possibly.

With Turner waxing lyrical about loopy lupine legends, native American history and his plans to defiantly oppose Stark, our oil intoxicated bad man has only one course of action left him.

Yup you guessed it, he hires a band of professional mercenaries led by part-time Idris Elba alike and full time sex beast Coughlin (Eyez) to kill everyone who opposes Stark's plans.

Starting with Chief Turner.

And the difference between this and a fox?....about 6 pints.

As the mean arsed mercenaries draw ever closer, Turner explains to our heroes (via a fantastic animated flashback sequence worthy of Yo Gabba Gabba) that killing the wolf requires a tribal sacrifice.

A life for a life if you will.

And with Maria being the only other member of the tribe left (turns out she's adopted, I mean what are the chances?) her chances of making it thru' to the final reel alive is beginning to look about as slim as the movies characterizations.

Will eco-bollocks flower power save the day?

Will the mercenaries shoot everyone before returning to Manilla for some undisclosed reason?

Will Maria and Locke get to enjoy an 'R' rated sex scene where they at least get to remove their trousers?

Will Stark win the hearts and minds of the locals and eventually revenge the sacking of Winterfell?

And will Maria survive her fight to the death with our furry fanged fiend?

Or will the big bad wolf eat her whole?

I'm just asking because they usually spit that bit out.

From jobbing music vid' guy to straight to DVD hack for hire (in the nicest way of course) Todor Chapkanov - he who gave us Thor: Hammer of the Gods, Miami Magma and the snakes vs. cowboy classic Copperhead - comes probably the best Robert Picardo starring monster Wolf vs. oil exec' movies ever made.

True the plot's so old it's positively creaking and the movies cliché count goes so far off the scale it begins to bleep like the Chernobyl reactor about the 20 minute mark but it's at least watchable and, more importantly enjoyable too.

Unlike a lot of high budget fayre we've been subjected to recently.

Sinister anyone?

The pace is bright and breezy, the main characters likeable, the black-hatted villain hissable and while some of the CGI appears to have been rendered on an Amiga this only adds to the movies retro charm.

That and it's abject silliness.

Plus you name another movie where a cartoon wolf mysteriously (and without reason) turns into a giant lightning bolt in order to blow up the bad guys helicopter whilst a former Star Trek regular (and by all accounts the directors niece if her acting is anything to go by) look on in terror.

Buy it now, or at least tune into the Horror Channel until it turns up.

I mean they only have about 6 movies so it wont be too long a wait.

  

back to the future (part one).

In the words of the late, great Paul Gadd “Hello! Hello! It's good to be back!”.

After what seems like an eternity in the interwebless wilderness Virgin Media have decided that it's finally time to reconnect me to the world wide web, which means everyone else's connection speed will drop dramatically (again) as I cruise the ether catching up on all the dodgy cinema, comic porn, dead celebrities and piss fetish films I’ve missed over the last few months as well as recounting my various cinematic adventures at Fright Fest, why Kucch To Hai is possibly the best remake ever made as well as the pro's and cons of having a six foot stone swastika from Outpost 2 in your garden. 

"Did you miss me?"

So without further ado here's a quick catch up for you all beginning with:

Glasgae's very own Fright Fest '11 threw up (literally in some cases) a few shiny gems and a film so arse numblingly atrocious that it even beat Outcast in the "what's the fucking point?" case.

Not only that but it caused a cripple to stand up from his wheelchair and walk out of the cinema.

No, really.

This years line up consisted of:

Little Deaths (2010)

Dir: Sean Hogan, Andrew Parkinson and Simon Rumley.
Cast: Luke de Lacey, Siubhan Harrison, Holly Lucas and a dog.

"Shite in mah mooth now you bastard!"

Three films about violent shagging, mentalists, spunky stains, men with monster cocks and Nazi sperm banks. 

Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on who you ask, which in this case was the audience) I missed this classic as I spent the entire running time trying to get served at the bar.

But fear not because I did catch:

I Saw The Devil (2010).

Dir: Kim Ji-woon.

Cast: Byung-Hyun Lee and Min-Sik Choy.

Much like having a drunken, stereophonic bar room brawl forcibly projected onto your retinas, Mr. Kim's black as Shaft serial killer cum raving revenge saga begins with sexy secret service agent Byung-Hyun Lee's fiancée being savagely murdered by that teddy bear faced bloke from Old Boy (Min-Sik Choy). 

Which was nice.

But tracking down the killer isn't enough for our hero who, using some nifty miniature spy gadgets begins to track the mangy mentalist, jumping in to kick seven shades of shit out of him just as he's about to commit any more crimes.

For ninety minutes.

Bonkers, brutal and barking in equal measures, a cold shower is recommended after viewing to clean away the grimy residue that the movie leaves on your skin.

And I mean that as a compliment.

"It's not an automatic is it?"

Rounding off Friday night was the frankly fantastic Machete Maidens Unleashed, director Mark (Not Quite Hollywood) Hartley's loving tribute to the Filipino exploitation genre that defined cult cinema for those of us of a certain age.

This ocumentary had it all; the one and only Weng Weng, shitly constructed monsters and Pam Grier with a flick knife!

Plus vaguely amusing comments from Sir Roger of Corman, directors Eddie Romero, Steve Carver and Jack Hill plus hotties Celeste Yarnall and Colleen Camp. 

Perfection.

Relax guys, they're old enough to be your mums.

Join me tomorrow for the Saturday selection, tonnes of stiffs and the genius that is Meteor Storm.

Or Metron Storn as the screener disc proclaims.

Missing you already!

a little less conversation....

For Your Height Only (1981)
Dir: Eddie Nicart
Cast: Weng Weng, Yehlen Catral, Carmi Martin, Mike Cohen, Anna Marie Gutierrez and Beth Sandoval.

"How did that midget find out about our operation? That little Weng could put us out of business!"

Whilst visiting the Philippines (no doubt for cheap crack and whores....no, sorry for a 'science conference') the brilliant (at what I don't know) and bearded Professor Bertie 'Van' Kohler, inventor of the terrifying 'N' bomb is kidnapped by an evil group of pimp shirted bad men and held to ransom by the notorious Mr. Giant.

At times of crisis the world calls on one man, the Philippines top secret agent codenamed: 'Agent 00'; a martial arts expert, weapons specialist, randy romancer, smart dressed lady killer and all-around honest to goodness superhero wrapped in a tiny package topped off with a Dario Argento moptop.

Arriving at Spy HQ, Agent 00 (Weng Weng) receives his orders and his top gadgets from 'The Boss' (not Bruce Springsteen, but a jovial, chubby pervy old uncle figure) who appears obsessed with Wengs ability to listen to him without interrupting.

And oh boy what gadgets!

Not only does he have a radio controlled flying straw hat but also a fountain pen which kills
("Of course. It isn't any good if you need to write with it, but we can't have everything." explains his boss sadly) and a ring which can detect poison!

Let's not forget his big belt which 'has useful things in it', a mini machine gun, a jet pack and, best of all a pair of huge glasses that enable him to see thru' ladies clothes!

Weng manages to infiltrate Mr. Giant’s gang by stripping off his shirt and wiggling his HUGE erect nipples in front of a sexy lady whilst muttering the immortal chat up line: “Hey, do you want to do it?”

The rest of the movie is a fantastic mish mash of hair raising stunts (usually involving Weng jumping off buildings using an umbrella as a parachute or jumping over hills on a mini motorbike), Weng dancing to hot disco hits to impress a gaggle of Filipino chicks and our pint sized hero chasing polyester panted (and shiny shirted) bad guys with his flying hat.

After all this action (and more hot loving), Weng makes his way to the villains hide out, eliminating most of his henchmen thru' a mix of hot lead and punches to the happy sacks before confronting Mr. Giant himself......who isn't a giant at all......HE'S A MIDGET TOO!!!!!

The best film ever made? quite possibly.


Probably the world's greatest action hero, Weng Weng made a further two Agent 00 movies, The Impossible Kid and Da Best in The West.

The Impossible Kid sees Weng Weng transferred to the Manila branch of Interpol and sent in pursuit of the notorious Mr X, a super villain whose head is covered by a giant white sports sock whilst Da Best in The West has Weng and sexy sidekick Gordon investigating the murder of Santa Monica’s mayor. This movie has one of the greatest climaxes of all time, featuring as it does Weng armed with a Gatling gun mowing down hundreds of Mexican bandits whilst a tribe of dwarf tribesmen launch a counter attack with bows and arrows.

You NEED these.