bungle bonce.

Celebrating Star Wars Day by revisiting THE best sequel not featuring Adam Driver....So enjoy and...

Os Trapalhões Na Guerra Dos Planetas (AKA The Bunglers In The War Of The Planets, Brazilian Star Wars 1978).
Dir: Adriano Stuart.
Cast: Pedro Aguinaga, Renato Aragão, Carlos (The Jackal) Bucka, Wilma Dias, Carlos (The Kettle) Kurt, Tereza Mascarenhas and some other folk I've never heard of.

Opening with a huge car chase that would put the makers of Top Gear to shame, the 'heroes' of Os Trapalhões Na Guerra Dos Planetas (top urine-stained Brazilian comedy tramps 'the Bunglers') are on the run from what looks like a ton of disgruntled Pikies suffering from narcolepsy, seeing as a huge number of them appear to be driving their cars into rivers for no reason.

It seems that one of the bunglers (the oldest yet least stinky one that wears the piss yellow sports jacket and pervert hat) amusingly named Didi, has slept with the head pikies missis and his friends/family/cousins are in hot pursuit looking for revenge.

After about twenty minutes of 'wah wah' guitar and exploding dune buggies the bunglers hide behind a convenient rock and wait for the bad men to get bored and leave.

"sniff mah coat hen".

That night, whilst the bunglers are sleeping, a turtle with a candle glued to its shell shuffles thru their camp and, in a stroke of comedy genius two of the bunglers think it's a ghost!

Oh how we laughed!

But just as you think it can't possibly get any funnier, the turtle manages to set light to the third, fattest bungler!

While he’s running around in circles going "Woo! woo!" whilst slowly (and probably very painfully) burning alive a passing spaceship touches down near their campsite.

Aboard is the handsome Prince Flik (no doubt referring to his almost Farrah like locks) who tells the four comedy legends (but not the turtle) that he needs their special 'talents' to retrieve a vital part of the fabled 'brain computer' and stop an evil space tyrant named Zuco from destroying his home world.

What? were Torchwood busy? I mean it's not like the plot was too far fetched for them.

A spaceship yesterday.

Our heroes, given the choice between jail time for forcing themselves on old ladies or a trip into space quickly agree and jump aboard Flik's starship where they meet his Red Setter-like, new romantic styled co-pilot Chewbacca (or Dave, I'm not sure).

He (it?) and Flik have an in depth chat in reverse Portuguese before Dave blindly stabs at a few buttons and prepares for take off in a blaze of coloured lights and sweet wrappers not seen since the heady days of Crackerjack.

"Hello Dave?"

Touching down on Flik's home planet, they immediately encounter what looks like an army of hooded midgets attacking a group of desert dwelling Arabs outside a series of stone portaloos.

It's like Disney does ISIS but with fewer beheadings.

Possibly.

Spoiling for a fight the comedy quads rush in and beat the shite out of anyone within punching distance in hyper-slow motion that makes The Matrix 'bullet time' look like the cheap trick it is.

Every time one of our heroes kicks, shoves or stumbles the same clip is shown again and again, accompanied by a hellish 'doo doo' disco score.

It's like mind melding with Jimmy Savile.

Runner up of the Lindy England lookalike contest (ask your mum).

About three days into the slo-mo spectacular the villain of the piece, the evil Darth Zuco appears from nowhere and drags the beautifully big hipped blond bombshell Princess Myrna (who?) from out of one of the portaloos before legging it across the dunes to what looks like a waiting gold vibrator (with wings).

Whilst this is going down (phnar), the warring aliens get bored and leave but not before blowing up one of the toilets with a painted air freshener cum grenade (as in an air freshener disguised as an explosive, not a grenade filled with man yoghurt, tho' that would be interesting) possibly as a political act lost on British viewers.

"Touch my big black helmet".

What isn't lost on viewers from dear old Blighty tho' is the effect that the explosion has, causing as it does four fairly attractive (in a cruise ship entertainer way) Lycra clad ladies to come running out of the smoke like a cheap(er) version of Benny Hill's Hill's Angels.

If that were at all possible**.

The bungling buddies start rubbing their filthy hands with delight but spoilsport Flik starts shouting about having to rescue the princess.

Relax girls....they're single.
And old enough to be your granddad.

Agreeing with Flik (and obviously fancying a wee bit of manass) Didi attempts to drag the others away from the babes with a promise of letting them borrow his hat.

Seriously, why would I make this shit up?

Things get very tense before a compromise is reached and the ladies offer to go with them to the local space disco to look for clues.

Let's be honest tho'...it's still more entertaining than this shite.

Arriving at the local nite-spot (which looks to all intents and purposes like Barry Noble's in Nottingham circa 1985) the bunglers manage to persuade the DJ to stop polluting the airwaves with farty sci-fi warblings and play some hi-energy disco instead but when the alien clientèle begin to 'get down' to the hot tunes the jolly jokers start beating them up.

Just like Dudley then.

For Didi this seems a step too far, he leaves the disco to buy a space laser gun, accidentally murdering five innocent bystanders in cold blood whilst 'testing' it and blowing up Flik’s landspeeder along the way.

If that wasn't enough, in a fabulously misplaced piece of slapstick he finds he has no money to buy the gun so he shoots the salesman dead and steals it.

Ha ha ha.

A normal Saturday night in Dudley.

Now the film begins to unravel and self destruct into an almost unwatchable display of violent comedy, giant birds and poverty row effects as our merry band decide to hit the trail in search of the princess and the evil Zuco.

All manner of random threats are thrown at the group from invisible monsters to flying oranges (yep....killer fruit......oh my sides) via a badly matted 'giant' spider and the aforementioned bird beast.

"Pluck off!"

Every time they encounter a new peril everyone throws their arms in the air, jogs on the spot whooping then runs away.

And I do mean every time.

Every.

Single.

Bloody.

Time.

For around half an hour.


Eventually (and obviously bored waiting for our heroes to discover his lair) Zuco sends them an open invitation to his house to exchange their half of the computer (admit it, you'd forgotten about that hadn't you?) for the captive Myrna.

What follows is a series of bluffs and double bluffs that would confuse even a very unbluffable (is that even a word? cos it should be) man.

The outcome is that Didi ends up in a box (not a coffin unfortunately) and Flik is left holding a green painted dwarf in a frighteningly lifelike Myrna mask.

Everything is now set for the final battle.

Thank fuck.

Didi scores first blood by freezing Zuco and then spending twenty five minutes dancing with his frozen body, popping a selection of funny hats on him, booting him up the arse etc. whilst his buddies fight for their lives against an elite squad of enemy shock troops.

Seriously tho' it's not as exciting as it sounds.

Just as the good guys break thru' the enemy ranks Zuco thaws out and tells everyone that Myrna is dead.

Laugh now.

It seems that whilst Zuco's scientist were making the mask for the dwarf to wear they accidentally disintegrated her.

No seriously.

Flik just shrugs his shoulders and sighs before pointing out that under his planets laws Didi’s squeeze, the seductive Loya must take Myrna’s place as Flik’s betrothed.

She leaves Didi’s side and gets straight down to business with Flik, leaving poor Didi to travel back to with nothing to look forward to but a tearful wank and a Pot Noodle.

Which is a wee bit depressing really.

Duck off.

What can one possibly say in regard to the almost perfect example of high brow Brazilian comedy that is Os Trapalhões na Guerra Dos Planetas?

As an introduction to the many fascinating aspects of Brazilian culture the film is a Godsend, featuring as it does the countries three major obsessions; dancing badly, awful polyester jackets and fighting.

Which is three more than Belgium is famous for.

And what of the comedy greats that are/were The Bunglers? 

Well believe it or not these comedy cnuts starred in over 15,000 films in the 1970s and 1980s, becoming Brazil's biggest export (outside STD's and child labour that is) before being hunted down by the UN war crimes committee in 1997 and sentenced to death by firing squad  in late 1995.

So if you enjoyed their hi-jinks in this, their biggest grossing (and most expensive) movie and don't mind laughing at dead folk, there should be enough online to keep you going for a few months at least.

The Bunglers: They've got something to put in you.

The rest of you can sleep soundly knowing I watched it for you.

You lucky people.

*I assume this is the case from what I've heard, it's not available in Europe yet so I wouldn't know for sure, pirating is bad don't you know.








**Obviously I don't count the wonderful Nola Hayes in this blanket statement because as a 12 year old watching Benny Hill she was by far the least scary of the bunch and not at all cheap.

mummy's boy.

Our local pound shop has become a veritable Mecca when it comes to top quality movies for the whole 31 days of horror thing.

And I bet they're all really good too.  

Especially this one.

Resurrection of The Mummy (2014).
Dir: Patrick McManus.
Cast: Stuart Rigby, Lauren Bronleewe, Bailey Gaddis, Sarah Schreiber, Alena Savostikova, Elizabeth Friedman and Jessie Paddock.

"He's my Dad!"

“let’s hope so. You can never really know for sure who anybody is.”

Somewhere in a disused quarry quite near to director Patrick (birthday parties a speciality) McManus' house, gangle-limbed amateur tomb raider cum part-time arse bandit Professor Terry Tralane (Rigby from Meet the Spartans) is taking time out of his busy schedule to admire a plastic scarab brooch he's just gotten out of one of those lucky dip machines you find in- supermarkets.

Unfortunately this tour de force of teeth baring brilliance is cut short when our poor professor suddenly begins to cough up some badly rendered CGI stones that soon whip up a scary sandstorm that engulfs the guy whole.

Which is nice.

Meanwhile in Egypt (or thereabouts) his ball-faced beauty of a daughter Maggie (BBQ Pitmasters star Bronleewe) is excitedly awaiting her fathers arrival so that she and her toothy team of airhead archaeologists can get down to the business of excavating the infamous Tomb of The Nameless One.

Or Anankotep as the Professor keeps referring to him.

Mousy.

 

It's not gonna be all fun and games tho' as their official government guide Mr. Walter Madu has also turned up with some grave news.

It seems that due to a general air of badness at the dig site he's decided to revoke the parties work permit (but not alas their Equity cards) and refuse to take them anywhere.

Not even up the casino.

Which by the look on Tralane's face is the most upsetting part of the story.

Luckily tho' our creepy archaeologist has other ideas and just before settling down for a night of tearful masturbation and copious Pot Noodles he mutters a few bizarre incantations which cause poor Mr. Madu to stab himself to death with his car keys.

Ouch.

So the next day and with a group of swarthy Arab types in tow (well in nightshirts and their mum's tea towels on their heads but you get the idea) Tralane and the girls - armed only with some cut off shorts and a couple of flasks, no spades or shovels for them! - head off to find the infamous tomb.

Seeing as the films running time is just shy of 75 minutes they do this fairly quickly which means we get a wee bit of extra time to not only learn more about the characters (Kelly - horse faced, nice ponytail, Ronnie - human/chipmunk hybrid, Sara - hieroglyphics expert and council estate Jane March and Grant - distinguishing characteristics include a big face and a pink t-shirt that reads, “I run like a girl – try to keep up” in big shiny letters) but also wonder what excuse Russian 'super' model Alena Savostikova - as pot-headed pixie Daw - had for being so late for shooting the movie.

You see up until this point she hasn't appeared in any single scene or even had anyone speak to her out of shot.

She literally just appears from nowhere and starts handing out drugs whilst complaining about Croatian death squads.

Looking back in the cold harsh light of day there may in fact be one more but I'm fucked if I know for sure.

If I've missed anyone out I'm sorry.

But thinking about it you've probably had a lucky escape.

Savostikova: Somewhere to park your bike.

Anyway back to the 'plot' where Maggie, using her incredible powers of deduction has figured out that the frustratingly complex and confusing locking system sealing the tomb door can be bypassed by sticking your fingers gingerly into a paper-mache beetle, which would be cause for celebration if a group of evil Libyan soldiers hadn't just turned up and shot the guides leaving our merry band no alternative but to hide inside the tomb, shutting the door behind them.

Can you see the major flaw in this plan?

Trapped inside an ancient Egyptian cupboard (well it's either that or this Anankotep bloke really tiny) and with no hope of rescue - for them or us - Tralane decides to have a little scout around (easy tiger) and almost instantly comes across  a small passageway (which lets be honest, is much more preferable to firing your muck over any of the cast - except maybe Elizabeth Friedman but only if she kept the hat on) which he heads off to investigate.

Sara, either bored with the constant complaining or just fancying a wee bit of rough goes with him and the pair soon uncover the fabled sarcophagus of Anankotep and excitedly open it.

I foresee bad things happening.

"Tonight Matthew I'm going to be hung from my testicles and beaten like a dog...."

But before that there's just time for an excruciatingly awful - and hellishly misplaced - pot-induced soliloquy about the trials and tribulations surrounding being a child in Eastern Europe.

Suffice to say there won't be any acting plaudits heading Alena Savostikova's way any time soon.

Tho' judging by the pic below there might be some casting calls for dog food ads.

"Look at the dog!"

As we all know tho' drugs are for mugs and Kelly after only one suck on Daw's massive blunt begins to experience vision of a ghostly Anubis-like figure in the distance.

Which if I'm honest is much better than enduring Nigel Wingrove's nun-centric Visions of Ecstasy.

But not much.

Frightened by such a chillingly realistic representation of the Egyptian God of The Underworld Kelly runs screaming into the tunnels where she's promptly squashed by some bits of polystyrene.

 

Which isn't as bad as it seems as it leaves Tralane and Sara to examine the burial chamber whilst Maggie and Ronnie  race towards (well take a leisurely stroll - the sets not that big) the sound of Kelly’s screams which culminates in a scene which gives us the treat of seeing a well-manicured hand covered in jam.

Tom Savini, no doubt, is currently on suicide watch.

Heading back to Tralane and Sara, the delectable duo discover that the passageway has been mysteriously sealed so attempt to break it down with a toffee hammer one of them had in their bag.

Unbeknown to them the Professor has begun mumbling something slight and incomprehensible under his breath whilst Sara looks on in the manner of a pound shop nodding dog.

Albeit one with frankly stunning thighs.

"Here....I found your talent down the back of the sofa..."

I must admit that at this point I popped out for a vape so could only view the next couple of scenes thru' a rain-lashed window (no I didn't pause it....do you think I'm fucking insane?) but did get to see what I think was Ronnie being overcome by an Atari 800 quality mummies bad breath before coughing up some Marmite and poor Sara attacked by some bandages  that gives the director the chance of sneakily showing her cleavage as a piece of oily rag snakes up her shirt.

I wont slag it off too much but let's just say I'm glad it was raining as otherwise nothing would have cooled my ardor.

With only Maggie, Grant and Daw left alive (well they're opening and closing their mouths whilst moving about) our terrific trio have soon found an escape route and stumble out into the sunlight only for Maggie and Grant to decide to head back inside to rescue the Professor.

Daw being a cowardly foreigner elects to sit on a rock and get shit-faced.

Which all things considered is a fairly sound plan.

Or it would be if minutes later she isn't mysteriously transported back into the tomb before having her soul sucked out leaving her  dead-eyed and used up only fit for smizing blankly on catwalks whilst parading around in more and more outrageous outfits. 

So no change really.

"I am not a number I am a Friedman!"

Things look even grimmer for Grant tho' (if that were possible) when she falls into a hole before being buried alive by a group of stagehands frantically emptying the contents of a kids sandpit onto her  leaving only Maggie standing.

Probably on a box to keep her in shot with her dad.

Will our chubby cheeked heroine save her dad and beat the undead despots curse?

Will previously dead cast members re-appear at some point to get stabbed in the face?

Will anyone outside the directors close family care?

"Cotton wool in mah mooth!"

From the diseased mind of writer/director/icon defiler Patrick McManus, the man who gave us 2012's Dracula Reborn comes this second chapter in his magnificent cinematic assault on the Universal Monsters back catalogue.

"You ain't seen me right?"

With a poster stolen from Brendan Fraser, a cast kidnapped from the checkouts at Aldi, a plot stolen from The Pyramid and special effects supplied by a hook-handed child on a ZX Spectrum, Resurrection of The Mummy is less a triumph of ideas over budget but more like a thinly veiled attempt to introduce a new form of torture on the world.

Pixelated grey squares stand in for empty casing ejecting from machine guns as a variety of animated flame GiFs are substituted for the gunshots, hastily painted woodchip wallpaper stands in for the walls of a centuries old tomb and characters change height and positioning depending on how the director was feeling that day.

For all it's faults (and they were legion) at least Dracula Reborn had Victoria Summer* in it.

And for that I can forgive it most of its sins.

Summer: Lovin'.

True, it's great to see folk producing a feature on such a slight budget but not when they show so much contempt for those watching. 

No time, no talent and no mercy, Resurrection of The Mummy is the cinematic equivalent of a bored, back alley handjob, ultimately pleased with itself for just being there with no interest at all in the viewers pleasure.

A wee bit like your mum.















































*Who bizarrely went on to play Julie Andrews in Saving Mr. Banks, a 2013 film about the making of Mary Poppins.

Victoria Summer: Just because.

crystal tits and all this gore.

It's actually Friday 13th and it's the middle (kinda) of 31 days of horror so what better way to celebrate than with probably the best Friday 13th movie ever made.*

Friday the 13th (2009)
Dir: Marcus Nispel
Cast: Jared Padalecki, Aaron Yoo, Danielle Panabaker, Amanda Righetti, Nana Visitor, Travis Van Winkle, Ryan Hansen, Willa Ford, Julianna Guill, Nick Mennell, America Olivo, Arlen Escarpeta, Caleb Guss and Derek Mears.

It's a wet and wild Friday June the 13th way back in 1980 and a hysterical, tight t-shirted camp counselor is being chased thru' the mud by a mad middle aged woman in a turtle neck sweater and a pound shop Beatles wig.

It would appear that little ms. counselor and her pals were way too busy shagging, supping booze and smoking 'the reefer' to notice that this mentalist mum's ball headed son, Jason Voorhees (Guss), had fallen into the water and drowned, leaving an (understandably) distraught Mrs. Voorhees (Visitor in a blink and miss it cameo, well to be honest it's too short for a cameo, more of a cam or just an eo) to take the camps complaints procedure a wee bit too far and kill everyone using a huge machete.

Before moving in for the kill, Mrs. V decides to rant at the sopping wet poor girl a bit more, giving our plucky heroine an opportunity to wrestle the machete from her and behead the raving middle aged loon instead.

As she wanders away into the woods, her ample bum cheeks glistening in the rain, a stooping, huge head boy emerges from the bushes and takes the dead woman’s weapon....

Guss: Bawheid.

Flash forward to 'the present day' and a group of annoyingly quirky teen buddies, including the high hairlined, sensitive Whitney (Righetti, star of the hit teevee show The Mentalist) are enjoying a weekend vacation getting away from it all and camping in the woods.

As in pitching tents and the like, not wearing pink sweaters and skipping about in a limp wristed manner ala Duncan Norvelle.

Two of the pals have their own agenda however. You see rumor has it that there's a huge crop of Marijuana hidden somewhere in the woods and they plan to find it and sell it, becoming richer than a fairly rich man who sells dope along the way.

Whitney, feeling even more sensitive than usual due in part to her mum having cancer (what? character development?) heads off for a walk with her equally as sensitive yet unfortunately pube haired beau Mike (Mennell, from the cinematic abortion that was, and still is Rob Zombie's Halloween remake). It's not long before they come across the battered and ramshackle remains of an empty summer camp; the name plate says Camp Crystal Lake.

"Put it in me!"

Meanwhile back at the campsite the party atmosphere is hotting up, there's much flashing of stone-like fake boobs and some heavy boozing whilst the non-cool teen, Jeff Hashman tells the spooky story of the beheaded mum out to avenge her sons death and and how her son was actually still alive, watching silently as she was killed, and that he still roams these very woods.

And on that note he decides to head off (alone) to look for the Marijuana grove.

Jeff has no sooner stumbled into slacker heaven when he finds himself face to chest with a huge, hulking figure of a man, clad in filthy denim, an old pair of orthopedic shoes and wearing a recycled canvas shopping bag on his head before being impaled on a tree.

"Steven!"

Whitney and Mike are still busy exploring the summer camps dilapidated cabins when they discover a child's bed with the name 'Jason' engraved in the headboard, a collection of whistles and small locket with a photo of a huge headed wee boy and a lady in it.

Mike remarks how similar Whitney looks to the lady and places it around her neck.

Good job he didn't compare her fairly large brow to the kids melon sized head tho', I'd have found it difficult not to mention it myself.

Over at base camp the tents are swaying to the sound of sweaty shagging and even more close-ups of America Olivo's frankly terrifying fake breasts swaying solidly in the wind like two breeze blocks tied to some old, vinegary rope.

We're saved from this evil vision (which is possibly the reason for the films R rating) when the young lovers hear a rustling noise from outside.

Could it be Hashman having a sly Barclay's in the bushes?

Or is it Mr. Baghead getting ready to slaughter some teens?

Take a guess.

Wanting to impress his girlfriend the brave boy heads outside to look, quickly stumbling across the marijuana crop before discovering his pal pinned halfway up a tree.

Running back to the camp he comes a cropper in one of Jason's makeshift booby traps, surviving just long enough to see the bag-headed one lift his girlfriends sleeping back and drop it into the campfire.

Again and again, stopping only when she's well done.

"Just coming!"

While all this senseless violence is going on, Mike and Whitney are still exploring the cabin (it must be like the TARDIS in there), coming across a unique (if not slightly strange) bathroom feature guaranteed to be the talk of any dinner party.

You see, just above the sink in a candle filled shrine they find the remains of Mrs. Voorhees head.

And you complain about buying a mothers day card.

Without warning the cabin door slams shut and Mike is stabbed by a mystery man poking a machete thru' the floorboards.

Whitney can only look on and scream.....

Olivo: Fake breasts,
ickle pointed witch chin. Probably.

Cut to a few months later and there's yet another group of expendable college kids heading to the lake for a weekend break, this time at the family cabin of curly topped, snub nosed rich 'kid' (although he looks around forty) Trent (Van Winkle).

Tagging along are his cutesy girlfriend Jenna (Panabaker, famous for playing Julie Stark in the James Woods teevee hit Shark and having ginger hair and pigtails whilst appearing opposite King Kurt Russell in Sky High), their friends Nolan (Wish bought Owen Wilson Hansen), the square jawed, shelf arsed Chelsea (former 'bad girl of pop' Ford) and cheesy Bree (Guill) alongside token minority pals Lawrence (Escarpeta from the Frankie Muniz HoopLA Celebrity Basketball Event) and geeky stoner Chewie (Yoo).

Stopping for petrol, crisps, milk and a Lion Bar they come across chisel chinned biker bad boy Clay Miller (Padalecki, Sam Winchester from that show Supernatural that everyone still seems to rave about), who's in town to look for his missing sister (that'll be Whitney then). The local townsfreaks have been less than helpful, telling him that she probably fell in a big hole or ran away to join the circus and even the police seem intent on getting Clay to leave town.

Do they have something to hide or are they just pissed off with him blu-tack-ing 8x10 glossies of his sis everywhere? I mean, for fuck's sake he's even pinning them onto dogs!

Feeling his place as the movies testosterone fueled 'manly man' being threatened, Trent faces off to Clay in an exciting manbreast to manbreast showdown in the middle of a corner shop.

The winner gets served first.

Someone, anyone just kill them now and have done with it.

Ford: Somewhere to park your bike at least.

Anyway, Clay moodily rides off on his bike (but not before he and Jenna have cut each other a few smoldering looks) whilst Trent, his bullet shaped nipples and his rent a pals continue on to his dads cabin for an enjoyable weekend of 'the sex', boozing, getting stoned and possibly getting butchered by a mad bloke with a machete.

Arriving at the cabin and getting ready to 'party on' as you young things say, Jenna soon excuses herself and takes a walk outside (probably to escape from her boyfriends eggy breath) whilst Chelsea and Nolan decide to borrow Trent's boat for a wee bout of water sports down by the lake.

They may look happy now but
just wait till the mooth shite-in starts.

As Jenna is enjoying a moment of quiet calm who should come a riding past but Clay. You see he's heard that there's a tree a few miles down the road that isn't covered by pictures of his sister so he's off to sort that out right away.

Thinking he could use a drink she invites him into the cabin but as he's about to enjoy a cool glass of weak lemon drink Trent appears in the kitchen, his eggy breath instantly turning the drink sour and sending Jenna and Clay hurrying out into the garden.

Sitting in the porch listening to Clay chatting away about his recently deceased mother, bad lad past and missing sister (don't knock it, as a chat up line it seems to work), Jenna offers to help him have one last look around the woods suggesting that they should probably have a closer look at the abandoned summer camp (you remember, the one with the ball faced, bag headed mentalist living in it) too.

I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

Meanwhile Jason has gone to the local corner shop for some provisions (and maybe a new bag) but mortally offended by the distinct lack of king sized Snickers on the shelves (and the buck toothed bumpkin owners habit of licking porn mags - talk about knowing your target audience) decides to kill him instead and steal a hockey mask....

Chelsea (stripped down to a rather impressive pair of big granny pants and an ill fitting bra) and Nolan (remember them?) meanwhile are enjoying a bit of water ski-ing on the lake, oblivious to the hulking figure watching from the shore.

Well, oblivious that is till he fires a dirty big arrow thru' Nolan's head causing poor Chelsea to fall off her ski's and cry a lot.

Swimming to shore and hiding under a pier, she fails to notice that her arse is sticking out a good three foot at the side, giving Jason an easy target to aim at.

The mask obviously restricts his vision tho' as he stabs her in the head instead.

Back at the summer camp compound (try typing that when you're drunk), Clay and Jenna seem to have made a day of it as it's now gone all dark, mist enshrouded and spooky. Wondering why the police never bothered to check the place for his sister he's just about to phone and ask when a lumbering figure shambles out of the bushes carrying a corpse inside a bin bag.

Clay and Jenna hide behind a tree as the hockey-masked madman dumps the body down a trapdoor before legging it back to Trent's to warn everyone that there's a killer on the loose.

A killer with a ginormous bonce.

Jason's romantic gesture of taking a lady up the
casino failed to get the result he hoped for.

Things are also hotting up back at the party tho', Trent and Bree have retired to the bedroom for some hot (re: sweaty arses, stroke victim faces and cries of 'do me bad boy') lovin', Chewie is sitting around getting stoned and Lawrence is attempting to have a wank over a copy of TV Quick (unfortunately tho' Lorraine Kelly isn't on the cover).

Luckily for him, Clay and Jenna arrive just in time to stop him cracking one off over a picture of the cast of The Golden Girls (it's a tribute issue), Jenna follows the stale smell upstairs to Trent whilst Clay goes to phone the local sheriff.

Unsurprisingly the phones are dead and it's not long before the power goes and the body count starts a-rising...

It seems Jason doesn't take too kindly to people messing around in his bush....

Amelia's initial reaction to news of a
Friday the 13th remake.

After dry heaving up the cinematic bile that was 2003's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (and don't forget he also made the video for Cher's cover of Walking In Memphis among other classics) Marcus Nipsel surprises us all by remaking a great film for the evil that is Michael (I might be rich but my shit stinks like no-one elses) Bay's Platinum Dunes company and it turning out not to be (too) shite.

Yep, after making such an arse of the aforementioned Texas Chainsaw Massacre, managing to make The Amityville Horror remake even more awful than the original and defiling the memory of The Hitcher as one would the body of an elderly relative they seem to have struck gold with this one.

Only problem is that it doesn't actually feel like a Friday the 13th movie till way past the halfway mark. True the cast is adequate, it's nicely shot and the kills are pretty good but it has something missing.

Yep that's it.

Jason Voorhees.

Out goes the lumbering, bawheided bonkers boy with the mommy complex we've all come to love and cherish over the last three decades and in comes a non-verbal Autistic (no really, co-writer Mark Wheaton said so) killing machine who's all quick and nimble with a thing for booby traps and underground lairs.

Interestingly tho' whereas Wheaton and co-writer Damien Shannon seem to be happy enough to completely re-invent the character traits of Jason Voorhees (what? I used the words character traits when reviewing a Friday the 13th movie - spooky) for a new audience the movie is also littered (almost to breaking point) with so many references to the past as to make it look like a condensed, greatest hits package.

Which is all well and good if you're cribbing from parts one and two but gets a wee bit worrying when you're stealing wholesale from Part 3 (and not even the 3-d bits).

I hope he washed his hands.

Like I said earlier tho' it's not all bad, there are stand out performances from Arlen Escarpeta and Aaron Yoo who manage to make a stoner and a chronic masturbater genuinely likeable characters whilst Danielle Panabaker deserves a special mention for having such a cutesy button nose.

As for Derek (the big baldy tongue mutant in The Hills Have Eyes 2, what do you mean you couldn't sit thru' it?) Mears portrayal of Jason, well as an actor he makes a great stuntman. He has the size and the build but absolutely no screen presence, turning the scary as hell man in the mask into, well, just a man in a mask.
 

Still it's a darn sight better than Rob Zombie's (or David Gordon Green's) Halloween so if you forget you're meant to be watching the relaunch of a horror classic then there are worse ways to spend a few hours.

Or you could stay in and watch the fantastic Crispin Glover's dance moves and death by corkscrew in Part 4.











*Ever made in 2009 that is.

skaro a go-go!

They're back on the big screen in COLOUR this weekend (Oh and in sparkling 4K format) so what better excuse to re-review THE two greatest 60s sci-fi spectaculars?

 

 

Dr. Who And The Daleks (1965)
Dir: Gordon Flemyng.
Cast: Peter Cushing, Roy Castle, Jennie Linden, Roberta Tovey, Barrie Ingham and The Daleks.

"In electro-connective theory, space expands to accommodate the time necessary to incorporate its dimensions." - Brexit in a nutshell.

Dotty old eccentric inventor Dr. Terry Who (Genre God Cushing) along with his granddaughters - the precocious Susan (Tovey, daughter of Russell) and the fright-haired Barbara (the totally terrifying yet equally tempting Linden) are enjoying a quiet evening in whilst awaiting the arrival of Barbara's new boyfriend Ian (Castle - who needs no introduction) who has tickets for the theatre, a box of chocolates and the keys to his dads shed in the hope he may see some action this evening.

Tho' judging by the tightness of Barbara's Capri-pants there's enough action on show already.

Happy that Barbara is actually interested in men and not one of those Lesbosians he's read about in his medical journals Dr. Who, upon Ian's arrival  excitedly invites him into the garden to see his latest invention - a time and space machine called Tardis that he's build inside a police telephone box that he stole from the set of the 1962 Richard Lester directed Helen Shapiro starrer It's Trad, Dad!

Unable to resist a poke in a mysterious box Ian gingerly follows Dr. Who and his family into the garden and into (the) Tardis.

"And this Susan is all the fucks I give!"

With this being the pre-sexy, fairly staid bit of the 60s, Ian gets a wee bit overexcited with the amount of shiny knobs on show inside the machine and accidently tries to insert one of them up his arse causing Tardis to fly off to fuck knows where as the intrepid travelers are overcome by the smell of stale onions.

Slowly coming to Dr. Who is intrigued to see where they are, unlike Ian and Barbara who are nervously looking at their watches wondering if they'll have time for a quick drink before the show starts, so it's left to Susan to decide what to do.

Being one of those swatty types she elects to have a wee scout around before they head home.

Well you can't really blame her seeing as her sister has paired off and the smell of humbugs has probably put her off kissing her granddad.

Again.

So they all decide to leave the relative safety of the ship and furtively open the doors to see where they are.

Which - if I'm honest - is in a really quite impressive and moodily lit petrified alien jungle set complete with wacky TV-21 style mummified monsters and a mysterious (model) city way off in the distance.

Seriously the design puts Alien to shame.

Or at least Shocking Dark.

Plus it has something that neither of those classics have, namely Roy Castle at the height of his comedic powers falling over plastic dinosaurs whilst whistling.

Genius.

"We've come on holiday by mistake!"

And if that wasn't enough - and it is - someone - or something - has left a handy container of drugs outside Tardis door so they can chill out (or go 'mad for it' I'm never too sure what the kids say) and relax under the psychedelic sky whilst listening to Bob Marley like my neighbours are want to do during the summer.

Or something.

Unfortunately Dr. Who is a bit of a square and locks the drugs in the Tardis bathroom cabinet before anyone can try them.

Realising that his chances of getting a shag from Barbara (or even Susan) is diminishing by the minute Ian suggests that they all go home, much to Dr. Who's chagrin, so being a sneaky old bugger, old man Who pretends that the ship has a leaky fluid link that can only be fixed by injecting heroin into his eyeball.

Or is that with mercury?

You can see why I got kicked out of medical school can't you?

Anyway to this end Dr. Who suggests that they travel to the city to see if they can find any.

But as they begin the journey Susan has a feeling that they're being watched.

Well I should hope so or the box office will be awful.

Peter Cushing attempts to put 45 candles up Roy Castle's arse....is this a record?

Quickly arriving at the city (well it is a small set) and after a few more moments of comedy gold from Castle - this time involving an automatic door - the group are captured by the evil Daleks, strange outer space robot people from BBC TVs Doctor Who and the vastly superior TV 21 comic series who've been hiding behind the (glittery) curtains giggling to themselves as they watch Who and co. stumble about.

Seizing - well suckering - the fluid link from Dr. Who's (big swapping) pocket the Daleks pop everyone in a prison cell and feed the Play-Doh thru' a gap under the door.

Evil bastards.

As they sit contemplating a way to escape our intrepid heroes (and Ian) begin to feel a wee bit unwell, soon realising that the entire planet is soaked in deadly radiation (and bean juice) and that the drugs they found outside Tardis must have been left by a nice person in order to stop them dying.

Maybe leaving a note alongside the box would have been a good idea then?

Just saying.

"Laugh now!"

It's not all fun and games for the poor Daleks tho' as it seems that the reason that they all trundle around in their groovy metal casings is due to the radiation outside too and that they're so scared of it causing their skirt-balls to fall off that they dare not go outside.

A bit like you Dad after your Mum left him.

Only replace fear of radiation with because he shagged the babysitter.

Twice.

And in your bed too.

Anyway whilst overhearing Dr Who and his chums (and Ian) discussing the drugs, the Daleks formulate a cunning plan to persuade folk to leave the European Union by blaming 'the foreigners' for everything, promising 60 sqillion pounds to the NHS and a free Union Jack for every pensioner but quickly realising that absolutely no-one with half a brain cell would fall for this the formulate a second less whacked-out plan that involves sending Susan back thru' the petrified jungle to fetch the drugs so they wont die.

Oh and the Daleks promise not to steal them for themselves.

Seeing no reason not to trust their captives Susan heads back out into the unknown.

Which if I'm honest is slightly less unknown than it was the first time around.

"I never done it!" - And neither did your dad.

Reaching Tardis without anything bad actually happening, Susan quickly collects the drugs but just as she's about to begin the journey back - which if I'm honest seems quicker than popping to the local shops so I've no idea what the problem was, girls eh? - out from behind a convenient tree (which actually sounds like a really shit sequel to that 2006 American documentary directed by Davis Guggenheim) pops Jeff Alydon - a scary alien resplendent in a blonde Beatles wig, Chelsea boots, a nipple revealing suede vest and blue eye shadow.

Which I have to say looks in no way at all camp.

Kudos to Barrie Ingham for actually pulling it off, I mean it's as if Ziggy Stardust and Quentin Crisp had been melded in a hideous genetic experiment run by the kids from Village of the Damned.

Think Ru-Paul cosplaying Mr Spock and you're about a third of the way there.

"Do you require any scissors sharpening?

Anyway it turns out that Alydon is the leader of the Thals, who are the other folk that live on the planet and it seems that they once engaged in a massive atomic war with the Daleks that resulted in the whole place becoming radioactive.

Which is nice.

Explaining the situation with her friends Alydon helpfully gives her a second box of drugs and sends her on her way.

Which is a wee bit far-fetched seeing as the last time I popped out from behind a tree dressed as a woman and gave a pre-teen girl drugs I got arrested.

Ah it was a much more innocent time back then.

Ask Mary Bell.

Susan returns to the Dalek city where the cunning creatures snatch the drugs to keep for themselves but decide to let Susan keep the second lot for her friends, partly because they appreciated a bit of cunning but mainly so they can watch how they affect the humans.

I reckon they just want to see if Barbara gets naked and dances.

Tho' they could save themselves the trouble and just watch Ken Russell's Women in Love if they want to see that.

But thinking about it that may be a bit difficult seeing as it hadn't been made yet.

As Dr. Who and his friends busy themselves getting shit-faced on alien amphetamines Susan helpfully fills in some much needed backstory by explaining that, according to Alydon, the Thal's crops have failed and they have journeyed to the Dalek city in the hope of trading the anti-radiation drug formula - or their pert arses - for food.

Still listening in on the conversation and realising that there probably isn't going to be any hot sex action from the cell, the Daleks decide that it'd be funny if they invited the Thals to dinner, killed them then just took the drugs from the Thals still warm corpses and to this end they get Susan to write a letter -  saying that they will leave a massive bag of egg and cress sandwiches and fizzy pop just by the garden shed - which they will Blu-Tak to the front door in the hope that the Thals will see it.

But when Susan finishes the letter, the Daleks reveal that tit's all a joke and that they're going to kill everyone.

To death.

Yazoo have let themselves go.

Being upstanding nice folk our heroes decide to escape and warn the Thals so after violently beating the Dalek that delivers their food before smothering him in a bin bag and leaving him lying bleeding in the corner (and these are meant to be the good guys) the group head towards the city entrance just in time to give the Thals the heads up and escape with them into the jungle.

 Meanwhile the Daleks are busy snorting away on the anti-radiation drug but are fairly upset to find that rather than help them chillax it actually causes their arses to implode so in an act of retaliation they decide to detonate yet another neutron bomb to increase the planet’s radiation and kill all the Thals.

Because reasons.

Back at the Thal camp, Dr. Who is all set to just fuck off and leave everyone to die but soon realises that he's left the fluid link in the Dalek city and will need the Thals help to recover it, but the Thals being boring pacifists refuse to fight.

To show them that violence is always better than peace Dr. Who tells Ian to touch Alydon's girlfriend's bottom, enraging the Thal who jumps on Ian and tries to punch him.

Realising that they can fight for things they care about, Alydon and Dr. Who  lead the Thals in an attack on the city, but unfortunately the Daleks repel the assault with almost no effort and Dr. Who and Susan are recaptured.

"Are you the farmer?"

Meanwhile Ian, Barbara and a small group of Thals manage to sneak into the Dalek city by smashing in their back door and, once inside they join the rest of the Thals, to mount a frontal assault (but not alas a small boy) on the Daleks and rescue Dr. Who and Susan but as the Thals and humans enter the control room, they discover that the Daleks have already begun the countdown to the bomb detonation....

For many of us of a certain - old - age, the 60s Dalek movies were our first encounter with Doctor Who's past outside our dog-eared Target novelisations and well thumbed Monster Book, hence this was how we imagined all sixties Doctor Who looked and sounded.

So you understand, then, why we were a wee bit disappointed when we finally got to see 'The Dead Planet' on it's original video release but why we all adore 'The Krotons'.

And re-watching them today it's hard not to be won over by their charm cos frankly they're brilliant.

Peter Cushing, as the eccentric old - human - Dr. Who plays the part as a mischievous schoolboy trapped in an old mans body (stop sniggering at the back) and from the opening shot of him enjoying Dan Dare's adventures in The Eagle to his genuine excitement at the thought of exploring the mysterious city, Cushing's Doctor Who is a joy to behold.

As for the rest of the human cast…Jennie Linden's Barbara is all scary hair, tight tops and pointed bra's, a kind of low rent Lulu either frowning sweatily at Peter Cushing or fawning sweatily over the bumbling comedy genius that is Roy Castle's Ian Chesterton but Roberta Tovey's Susie is just bloody scary, less an unearthly child more of an ungodly one.

Imagine Adric in a tartan pinny and ankle socks and you're half way there.

Tho' probably not half as aroused as I am by that thought.

"Put it in me!"

None of that is really important, tho', as we're really here to see the Daleks….bigger, better and considerably brighter than ever before (or since).

From their first appearance skulking in the corridors of their city, to their exciting demise, the metal meanies have never looked better, as if they'd stepped directly from the pages of the aforementioned TV21 comic.

The whole production screams 'BIG!, even the police box shell looks bigger than normal - it's a pity, tho' that they decided to film the TARDIS interiors inside Albert Steptoe's shed.

The Skaro sets have a genuine other-worldly feel and as for the city interiors, Jennie Linden recalls that this was 'the first and largest set completely built from plastic'… think about this, a giant primary coloured, transparent plastic Dalek city, complete with lava lamps and big black and white TV screens populated by giant primary coloured, shiny Daleks…genius does not begin to describe this artistic triumph.

The one big mistake by the Academy Award panel was that this film wasn't even nominated in 1965, if it had been it would have swept the board.

Damn you The Sound of Music, obviously the wrong Nazi-inspired movie won.

Jeremy Beadle: The Return.

But what of the plot?

Adapted from the Terry Nation original, but with all the boring bits cut out, by David Whitaker and the legendary Milton Subotsky, it hurtles along at a cracking pace, pausing only to showcase a few quality comedy turns from Mr. Castle. These include such delights as 'Ian sits on a box of chocolates', 'Ian can't get in a door' and mine (and many other fan's) favourite, 'Ian is attacked by giant projected Roman soldiers whilst whistling'.

Fans of Roy Castle's portrayal of Ian may also want to check out the Amicus classic 'Dr. Terror's House of Horrors', as well as also being produced by Subotsky, it re-teams him with Peter Cushing and also features star turns from Christopher Lee, Kenny Lynch, once mooted big screen Doctor Donald Sutherland and Alan 'Fluff' Freeman.

Looking back I'm surprised I've never reviewed it as it's fucking brilliant.

Cinematic gold.

As is.....

Daleks - Invasion Earth 2150 AD (1966).
Dir: Gordon Flemyng.
Peter Cushing, Bernard Cribbins, Ray Brooks, Andrew Keir, Roberta Tovey,  Jill Curzon, Godfrey Quigley, Philip Madoc, Sheila Steafel, Eileen Way and the Daleks.

"My planet's got no magnetic core!" "How do you pilot it around then?" "Bedfordshire!"

Beginning with a fabulous pre-credits teaser that would do Bond proud, the film introduces us to hapless copper Tom Campbell (the legendary Cribbins) who, whilst minding his own business patrolling the dark city streets is bonked on the head by a gang of ruthless clock thieves before stumbling into Tardis after mistaking it for a real police box.

But before you can say 'Right said Fred' he's been whizzed away into a future London by our old friends Doctor Who (Cushing) and Susan (Tovey), this time aided by sultry Louise (the raven haired Curzon from your Granddads dreams).

Obviously Barbara has been sent away to Shady Nook, her mind and body broken after their last terrifying adventure.

Well either that or Roy Castle got her up the duff.

Dirty boy.

The Doctor and co. visit sunny Govan.

Arriving in the year 2150, our heroes (and Louise) are shocked to discover that London is now a desolate wasteland of ruined buildings  with the bodies of the dead littering the streets and sinister flying saucers hovering overhead.

Who knew that Brexit would cause so much heartache?

Upon further inspection tho' Dr Who discovers that the trouble is less about gammon and more to do with his old enemies the Daleks, who have invaded Earth and ravaged the planet whilst enslaving its population.

The bastards.

In what has become a Doctor Who tradition the foursome soon split up with typically exciting results,  Susan - after a terrifying ankle sprain - and Louise quickly being abducted by a flat capped grumpy Scotsman named Wyler (the one true Quatermass, Keir) whilst Dr Who and Tom are accosted by a Dalek who appears to have been hiding in the Thames for no reason other than to scare anyone walking by.

Which is fair enough I guess.

Captured and taken aboard a Dalek spaceship situated just off Sloane Square (it seemed important at the time) the duo are locked in a cell awaiting questioning but being a clever clogs Dr. Who manages to bypass the lock and escape, unaware that the Daleks have engineered the situation to test their captives’ suitability for robotisation.

And what, pray is robotisation when it's at home?

Well it seems that the Daleks have been kidnapping the fittest men in the country and, after scary brainwashing techniques involving stand-up hairdryers, dressing them in tight PVC jumpsuits and leather boots to use as 'slaves'.

And now Dr Who is next on their list.

"I can see your house from here Peter!"

Meanwhile, Wyler has taken the girls to a secret resistance base in the London Underground, where they're introduced to the sexy, blade-wielding David (Brooks, better known as the voice of Mr Benn) and the wheelchair-bound head of resisting, Danny Dortmun (Quigley, best known as the prison chaplain in A Clockwork Orange) who as luck would have it is in the middle of planning an attack on the Dalek saucer.

Tho' why he's leaving them with the cups I've no idea.

Disguising some of the rebels as Robomen and armed with Dortun's special home-made bombs the group manage to get aboard the spaceship and soon come across Dr. Who and Tom running in the opposite direction but there's no time for 'hellos' as the Daleks mount a cunning counter-attack that sees Tom and Louise trapped in a cupboard as the spaceship lifts off and Wyler returning to the base alone much to the disappointment of Dortmun and Susan who were expecting celebratory cake.

Keeping Up with the Kardashians- The pikey years.

Leaving her grandfather a note the trio decide to head to sunny Bedfordshire where, it transpires the Daleks are digging a big hole with the idea of removing Earths magnetic core and piloting the planet around like a big spaceship.

Sounds legit.

Stealing an Asda delivery van the trio are all set for the long drive until they realise that poor Dortmun can't fit in the back because the shelves are full of frozen fish fingers but as they try to make room the Daleks appear and exterminate him (to death) leaving Wyler and Susan no choice but to drive off leaving his still warm body twitching in the street.

Just like your mom did with your dad on Christmas Day back in 1984.

But what of dear old Dr. Who? I hear you ask.

Well he and David fucked off into the sewers at the first sign of trouble and are currently making their way back to base in order to meet up with any survivors only to think "Fuck it, let's go to Bedfordshire and hang about outside the famous Bedford Girls' School or at the very least meet some of the sexy contestants up for the coveted title of Miss New Bedford!*"  instead.

So off they trot to investigate the Dalek mining operation and hopefully score some weed along the way.

Meanwhile aboard the Dalek saucer, Tom and Louise are busying themselves escaping down a toilet only to end up stranded slap bang in the middle of the mining complex (which is kinda lucky I guess) and decide - after being attacked by a roboman, to hide out in a shed and hope that everything blows over.

Who will win the 62nd Miss New Bedford pageant and will they be able to stop the evil Dalek plan!?

With all this excitement going on it's nice to catch up with Wyler and Susan, who are currently enjoying a slap up meal at a cottage belonging to a sultry young woman named Morag (TV stalwart Steafel) and her mother the pursed lipped Graham (Way, who also played an old mother in An Unearthly Child....spooky).

As they sit scoffing biscuits Susan excitedly informs Wyler about how her granddad is gonna kick the Daleks' arses as soon as he gets to the mine and desperately tries to convince him that they should head there right away in case they miss anything.

Morag, bored with Susan's nasally whining makes her excuses and leaves, saying she has her womans period only to return a few minutes later with a couple of Daleks who take Wyler and Susan off to the mine.

Sorted.

Dear old Dr. Who and David have also found their way into the mining complex thanks to a sinister black marketeer named Baz 'Nylons' Brockley (Brian Morbius' best pal  - Mandy Solon himself, Madoc) who smuggles then in under a dog blanket to be reunited with a slightly coy Tom and Louise.

Which begs the question as to what they were up to in that shed.

"Don't stick it in me....fuck Cribbins he's strawberry flavoured!"

 With the group (almost) all together again it's a race against time - and 60s fashions - to stop the Daleks before they can complete their evil, and oh so slightly bonkers, plan.....

The Daleks second foray onto the big screen 'Daleks: Invasion Earth 2150 AD' has the kinda title that gives even the most casual viewer some idea of what to expect - although the Daleks vs. the grumpy tramps might be more appropriate, feature as it does the greatest collection of flea market suits this side of an Oxfam opening.

But a change of clothes from sexy sci-fi suits to stinky cheese trousers isn't the only thing different second time around as the bright colours, comic book thrills and fun feel of the first movie have given way to an altogether more gritty film, a sort of junior 'Escape from New York' with Bernard Cribbins in the Kurt Russell role and Peter Cushing essaying Lee Van Cleef.

Albeit at one point with them both wearing black, wet-look PVC.

Which is actually a lot sexier than it sounds.

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

And for what is essentially a kid-friendly excuse to sell Dalek toys the movie isn't half bad and looks gorgeous, boasting  some genuinely great effects including a fabulously designed Dalek Spaceship flying menacingly over a devastated London and some super forced perspective sets, especially those at the saucers landing area.

The battle scenes between the survivors and the Daleks are well choreographed and visually exciting and the whole movie has a kind of 'epic' quality to it, only marred by some misplaced hi-jinx forced on Cribbins because that's what Roy Castle did first time around.

And whilst the comedy in the first movie is quite sweetly done, here it seems to jar against the overall seriousness of the plot, especially the Roboman meal scene, which cheapens the otherwise genuinely chilling concept behind these Dalek slaves.

A scene late on in the film, where one of the workers tries to reason with his robotised brother before being cruelly murdered by him, has its impact slightly lessened by the earlier antics of Bernard Cribbins scoffing dolly mixtures with his funny robot pals to a samba beat.

But fuck it the rest of the movie is perfect so who cares?

Not the rest of the cast that's for sure, of which none of them are anything other than brilliant (yes even Bernard Spear's cameo as the gurning man who falls over before winking to camera is great) especially Andrew Keir's grumpy - and slightly scary - Scotsman Wyler, Ray Brook's 'boy with the knack' and Philip Madoc's badboy Brockley, who in one of the movies best scenes meets his grisly demise in a garden shed blown to pieces by around twenty Daleks.

Yes, the film could afford that many, not just the three (including the shite one with no-one in it) that the BBC could only ever afford.

Davros farted - and it was an eggy one.

Unfortunately although 'Daleks: Invasion Earth 2150 AD' was by far the more accomplished film of the pair, it scarily made less money than its predecessor curtailed any plans Subotsky had for further big screen Doctor Who adventures, which is sad really, as judging by his efforts here, the results could have only got better and better.

And quite possibly sexier as they continued, Planet of The Vampires and Barbarella I'm looking at you.....I mean, imagine Mario Bave directing a big screen  adaptation of The Chase?

My I need a lie down now.

It's a pity then that 'serious' Doctor Who fans (sorry, enthusiasts) see these movies as either embarrassing relatives of the series, or seldom mentioned curio's, when in fact these two sixties feature films offer a wealth of enjoyment to be had that at times eclipse the series that spawned them.

And not just because I quite fancied Roberta Tovey when I was 9.

Jill Curzon - Dalektable (sorry).

Bloody hell I just realised I did two whole reviews in a semi-serious manner.

Gonna have to fix that.





































*Which if they'd bothered to check a map would have realised is actually held in New Bedford in Bristol County, Massachusetts, United States and not the other one.

As of the 2010 census, the city had a total population of 95,072, making it the sixth-largest city in Massachusetts.

New Bedford is nicknamed "The Whaling City" because during the 19th century, the city was one of the most important whaling ports in the world plus it has a lot of very fat residents.

The city, along with Fall River and Taunton, make up the three largest cities in the South Coast region of Massachusetts.

If you ever find yourself there and feel a wee bit peckish can I recommend  The Green Bean located on 740 Purchase St,which has a top selection of
Vegan donuts, vegetarian wraps & locally roasted coffee all served in a charming cafe with live music.