family ties.

Greetings readers!

In between work at the moment so keeping out of trouble by randomly picking films off the shelves and watching them whilst getting slowly drunk.

Quite a short one for a change with a distinct lack of 'laugh nows' mainly due to the fact that the kids are due home soon and I've still to sort their snacks.

Luckily I'm not feeling totally dejected as I've had a few review requests (well one) so I shall get to that ASAP.

But first.....
La notte dei diavoli (AKA Night of the Devils, 1972)
Dir: Giorgio Ferroni.
Cast: Gianni Garko, Agostina Belli, Roberto Maldera, Bill Vanders, Cinzia De Carolis, Maria Monti, Teresa Gimpera and Umberto Raho.

Well we're back in Europe and back in the woods (probably just around the corner from where Annik Borel is writhing around naked) where we're introduced to the tragic traveling wood salesman, Lesley Manhorn (played by the mightily mustached Maldera) who is passing his time wandering thru' the undergrowth clad only in a dirty sweater and torn Action Slacks.

Discovered by a concerned shepherd our poorly pal is quickly carted off to the local mental hospital, tho' probably not to be stripped naked and tied to a bed.

Instead he's viciously prodded and poked by the concerned (or constipated, I couldn't tell) Dr. Tosi (Enter The Devil's Raho) as his terrifying tale unfolds through the medium of dance (oh go on then, flashbacks), leaving him - and us - horrified to discover that he's become embroiled in yet another remake of the (one halfway decent) Leo Tolstoy novel, The Family of the Vourdalak.

But this time not one directed by Mario Bava or starring Boris Karloff.

"You ain't seen me, right?"

It transpires that during his trip home from a particularly successful building conference Lesley, after drinking far to much of the local brew and taking a wrong turn managed to wrap his car around a tree leaving him stranded in the Yugoslavian countryside.

The whole situation is a wee bit like being stuck in Dudley in the West Midlands but with less chance of getting your arse felt by a tramp.
Or catching crabs from a beer glass.

Luckily (for the viewer obviously otherwise it'd be a really crap horror movie) he finds shelter for the night in the home of the Ciuvelak family, headed by grumpy patriarch Gary (Vanders).

All seems well, until day turns to night that is, when our hero (if you can class someone who self MDF and hardboard for a living a hero) is kept awake by strange noises emanating from the woods.

Questioning his host the next morning he's told not to worry as it's just a bloodthirsty witch that lives in the trees.

Which is nice if a little unexpected.

I was expecting rats.

After running out of strawberry jam, Madeline McCann made a stunning reappearance.

It seems that the witch killed Gary's brother a while back before deciding that it'd be a wee bit more fun for everyone to resurrect him as an exotically monikered Vourdalak, a mythological Russian vampire with a penchant for time keeping, fact fans.

Anyway back to the plot where Les seems to be taking all this gypsy gossip in his stride, which might be because he's fallen head over heels in love with Gary's busty redheaded daughter Sdenka (button nosed beauty Belli), either that or the constant bowls of oxtail soup and bread are beyond compare.

Agostina Belli: Your grandad did. Twice.

Either way he doesn't even bat an eyelid when Gary decides to don a big furry hat and heads out into the woods to confront the witch once and for all.

Number one son Terry (Garko) tho' is prepared for the worst, fearing that his poor dad will get vamped and return home the next day at precisely 6 o'clock and wreak havoc on the household.

See?

Told you there was time keeping involved, I don't make this shit up you know.

Well, not all of it.

Beware! He's going to put his big chopper in you!

Suffice to say that Gary does indeed return at the allotted time the next day looking a wee bit greener than normal (which he blames on trapped wind) but insisting that he has in fact killed the witch and isn't a vampire.

The family (being a bit fick) believe him.

It won't come as too much of a surprise when I say that he's lying thru' his pointy teeth, leading to 60 minutes of death, depravity and dodgy trousers.

"I'm sorry, I have my woman's period."

Criminally under-rated and hardly seen by anyone outside the directors immediate family, Giorgio (AKA Calvin Jackson Padget) Ferroni's penultimate picture is a slow burning supernatural shocker that's a joy to watch from it's starch slacked start to it's devilish denouement. 

Whilst it never reaches the giddy heights of the directors earlier Mill of the Stone Women it's well worth the effort to track down, if only to compare how two totally different film makers (t'other being Mario Bava with his classic Black Sabbath) approach the same source material.

"Shite in my gorgeous Italian mooth you wood loving bastard!"

Whereas Bava's vision is all clinging atmospherics, subtle lighting and and knowing nods from Karloff, Ferroni decides to go straight for the jugular from the start, the film’s opening minutes featuring as they do a barrage of blood and boobs before quickly settling down into a more sombre state as the story begins good and proper.

With a pitch perfect cast playing the whole scenario as straight as Chuck Norris,
Ferroni is free to let his camera camp up the proceedings as it treats both gore and nudity with glee abandon.

And it's this freewheeling style, aided by Giorgio Gaslini's sinister score that enables the film to flip from gothic chiller to frantic chase movie almost without warning as it builds to it's climax.

Plus Agostina Belli really pulls off those early 70s fashions.

"Is it in yet?"

T'is a pity then that such a great movie is lumbered with such a generically piss-poor title, which probably hasn't helped it's availability (or reputation) over the years, which is almost as much a shame as the fact that Ferroni made so few horror movies.

That and the fact that his best known work, Le baccanti (AKA Bondage Gladiator Sexy) is rubbish.

Well that's a bit of a downer to end on isn't it?

mummy's boy.

Our local pound shop has become a veritable Mecca for top quality movies since they had Ghosts of Sherwood in stock....looks like I'm in for a long and joyful summer.

Especially seeing as work-wise I've drawn everything humanly possible to draw so am at a loose end.

But where to start? 

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.

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, who are in case you're interested:

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

Yup, she 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 deductive powers has figured out that the incredibly 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 look around 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.

Leaving Tralane and Sara to examine the burial chamber Maggie and Ronnie  race towards (well take a leisurely stroll - the sets not that big) the sound of Kelly’s screams culminating in a scene which gives us the treat of seeing a well-manicured hand covered in jam.

Tom Savini 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 whilst unbeknownst to them the Professor begins mumbling something slight and incomprehensible under his breath whilst Sara looks on in the manner of a pound shop nodding dog.

Albiet 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 fag 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 ardour.

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 falling sand 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.

Avoid.

no hell's house party.

Sorry about the recent lack of updates but work coupled with a severe allergic reaction to this film has kept me out of action for a while.

Even now I'm still having flashbacks.

Evil Dead (2013).
Dir: Fede Alvarez.
Cast: Jane Levy, Shiloh Fernandez, Lou Taylor Pucci, Jessica Lucas and Elizabeth Blackmore.

"I will feast on your soul!"
"Feast on this motherfucker!"

Poor old Mia (Levy from the US version of Shameless, which is apt) has a problem with 'the drugs' so her best buddies; Eric, Olivia, Mia's brother David and his girlfriend Natalie, sick of her crashing out in the corner at parties stinking of piss and eggs have decided to take her to an old cabin deep in the Tennessee (well, New Zealand) woods in order to get her clean.

Unfortunately things begin to go wrong from the moment they arrive, Mia (channelling Nights of Terror) starts to complains about the stench of death coming from a kitchen cloth whilst David's dog (the four legged kind not Natalie) during a bout of rug sniffing, comes across a cellar hatchway hidden under a carpet.

"Does it come on a Kindle?"

Deciding to investigate, our troubled teens are fairly surprised to discover not only a collection of animal corpses hanging from the ceiling, a double-barrelled shotgun and lying unloved on a table and wrapped in a bin bag a really shoddy fan made copy of the Necronomicon.

You can tell it's not the original for a variety of reasons not least being the fact that not only do the illustrations look like they were hastily scribbled by a 14 year old virginal heavy metal fan but that it also has handy English translations in the margins.

Oh yes and DO NOT READ scrawled across the cover in big letters.

This doesn't seem to put off the lank haired bespectacled Eric (Pucci from, fuck it do you really care?) tho' seeing as he decides to start reading passages from it aloud causing all many of strange camera angles and lighting effects.

Oh yes, and a she-demon (in reality Levy blacked up like a minstrel) to pop out the bushes and scare Mia, who's minding her own business sitting on the car from the original movies which just happens to be parked outside.

"Shite oot mah mooth you demonic bastards!"

Terrified (or embarrassed it's hard to tell) Mia pleads the group to let her leave saying that she really needs a poo but can't do it in an outside toilet but the group refuse, determined as they are to make her kick her 'habit'.

At this point I could understand how she felt.

With a wiggle of her peachy junk filled arse Mia grabs the car keys and stroppily drives away in the car (no-one bothered to hide the keys) but before she can make it any further than the top of the road the Al Jolson demon pops up out of nowhere causing Mia to crash.

As you would in these situations our drugged up dame legs it into the woods only to be attacked by the trees and have a slimy shit coloured tendril go up her Jemima Puddleduck.

Ouch.

And definitely don't fucking watch it.

The group after, ooh, minutes of searching find Mia lying in the woods covered in shit and stinking of piss (kinda appropriate for this movie) and take her back to the cabin where she attempts to warn David about the monster in the woods but the rest of the group think she's talking absolute shite in a vain attempt to escape back to her crack-addled world of drugs.

Which quite frankly is where I'd love to be right now.

If you think that's bad then imagine David's reaction when he finds that not only is his sister a total pain in the arse but that someone has bludgeoned his dog to death with a steel dildo.

Well, actually with a hammer but you have to agree my version would have been better.

Anyway in all this dog based death drama Mia manages to lock herself in the bathroom where she proceeds to scald herself in the shower for some reason or other.

"Boiled onions!"...a cellar based beast yesterday,

Finally deciding to do something proactive, David attempts to drive his by now slightly crispy sister to a hospital, but a flood has blocked the only road out.

What?

Didn't the budget stretch to a Lego bridge?

Back at the cabin, any attempt to sedate Mia seems to send her more and more loopy culminating in her turning up in the living room armed with a shotgun.

Unfortunately rather than shoot the entire cast dead and them herself she only manages to slightly graze David's shoulder before collapsing to the floor and vomiting over Olivia (Cloverfield's Lucas). 


Realizing that they're in a remake and that the movie is at the halfway point, David kicks Mia into the cellar and chains it shut giving the director a chance to give us a cellar based creep out even more terrifying than the original.

Unfortunately he manages to fuck that plan up by replacing the lo-fi frights of a paper mache covered Ellen Sandweiss with a visibly embarrassed Jane Levy doing her best amateur hour Exorcist impression whilst forced to shout the clumsily constructed "I'll feast on your soul!"

Bless.

...And how it should be done.

 Cue forty odd minutes of soulless slashings, paper thin homages to the beloved original, inconsistent lighting and a complete lack of understanding as to what made Raimi's original so damn good.

For fucks sake Sam, you can't be that skint.

Where does one start when it comes to the Evil Dead redux?

I'll admit that I was a wee bit sceptical when it was announced but was soon won over by Sam and Bruce's hard sell shmuck, which was a bit like a couple of long lost friends offering to take you out for the night to revisit your favourite pub from your younger days.

Sad thing is that when you get there they've knocked it down and built a carpark.

"Hey buddy! Wanna buy a franchise? Only one previous owner!"

Whilst the young things (and a few older people who should know better) seem to have been bewitched by the all glam and glitz approach to the remake, with it's promise of no CGI and unrated bloodletting they all appear to have forgotten what made the original so bloody brilliant in the first place.

 What the original lacked in budget it more than made up for in sheer unrelenting terror, the perfect haunted house movie made (puckered and twisted) flesh from a pre-digital age when only those young film makers with the perseverance and talent could hope to make their mark on a jaded industry.

And then usually by having to pawn the parents house. 

Sure the characters in the original are cliches but at least they're interesting cliches, the remake throws us the five most, whiny, self obsessed and boring teens since Dawson's Creek.

In the original you were rooting for Ash, Scottie, Linda, Cheryl and Shelly, this time round you're just praying that the cabin explodes taking the entire harsh faced, moaning cast with it.

Alvarez, this is your fault.

I could go on but what's the point?

No talent, no mercy, no point....like watching your wife, high on crack sell your first born into child sex slavery. 

I actually pulled a nail off in anger during it. 

Fede Alvarez your turn is coming. 

That is all.















*Except to say that giving your characters the initials D, E, M, O and N isn't big or clever, it's just shite.

leathery when wet.

This seemed to get thru' it's cinema release without too much hate so obviously I couldn't allow that to happen...

Texas Chainsaw 3-D (2013).
Dir: John Luessenhop.
Cast: Alexandra Daddario, Tania Raymonde, Tremaine Neverson, Keram Malicki-Sánchez, Shaun Sipos, Richard Riehle, Thom Barry, Sue Rock, Dodie Brown, James MacDonald, Scott Eastwood, Gunnar Hansen and Marilyn Burns.

"Do your thing, cuz!"

Three sequels, a remake, a prequel and the passing of 39 years and poor Sally Hardesty is still trapped in Texas, wearing the same blood and sweat stained flares with her bullet-like nipples sticking ominously thru' her vest top.


But this is no bizarre space/time eddy but a hellish attempt to make the audience forget everything that happened since the original TCM (which in the case of the Michael Bay remake is no loss) and retro-actively bolt this 're-imagining' onto it's climax in order to make it the one true sequel to Tobe Hooper's classic.

No that's out of the way let's head back to 1974 and continue our tale.

With Sally escaping in the back of a pick-up truck local Sheriff Hooper (Barry, wearing so much de-aging make-up and such a dodgy afro wig that he actually looks like an offensively 'blacked-up' white actor) arrives at the Sawyer family house in order to give the family a stern telling off before taking hulking munter
Jedidiah -Leatherface- Sawyer (Yeager) into custody for murdering folk.

"Get in the back of the van!"

Obviously cannibalism and attempting to slash cripples isn't a crime in Texas seeing as the rest of the family are free to go.

Unfortunately, soon to be Mayor and card carrying redneck Burt Hartman (Daddy Day Camp's Rae) turns up with a 'posse' and proceeds to burn down the house and everyone in it.

Everyone that is except ickle baby Edith , who's found by one of the townsfolk, Gavin (Born) who, after promptly murdering her mother, Loretta (the scarily long faced Dodie Brown) takes the baby home to his wife Arlene (Sergeant Rock's sister Sue) to be (begrudgingly) raised under the pseudonym of Heather.

Leaping forward to 2013 we find that Heather (now in her mid-twenties and played by the sparkly eyed Daddario) has recently received a letter from a lawyer notifying her that:

A. She's adopted

and

B.  That her grandmother, Verna Carson (original TCM babe Burns), has passed away and left everything to Heather in her will.

Confused?


Not half as much as this movie's continuity.

Realizing that she may need a wee bit of help celebrating her new found wealth Heather's boyfriend Ryan ('pop' star Neverson, which strangely enough is the first thing I'd say to a child of mine if he ever asked if he could appear in a movie like this) plus her friends, the ferret like Nikki (the genuinely terrifyingly toothsome Raymonde, star of Switched at Birth. It'd be cruel to say with a horse) and Kenny (the Scrabble high-scoring Keram Malicki-Sánchez), decide to travel to Texas with her, picking up the man-breasted beefcake hitchhiker Darryl (Sipos) along the way.

"Put it in me!"

Our foxy five are met on arrival by the Sawyer family lawyer, Farnsworth (an embarrassed Riehle), who quickly hands over the deeds, keys and an important letter from Verna (that must be read before anything else) before heading off into the sunset, obviously hoping that no-one will recognize him.

Bless.

Excited about actually owing a house in these turbulent times of economic woes, Heather and her friends decide to have a celebratory barbeque,  immediately setting off to buy supplies and food from the local town, leaving Darryl to stay and look after the house.

 Why?

What's it going to do?

Run away?

"FIRE ENGINE!"

Not too surprisingly (it's the vest) Darryl starts ransacking the house and stealing stuff before finally finding a big locked door in the wine cellar which he reckons is full of money and things.

However, upon opening the door he's shocked to discover not money and riches but a big fat man wearing what looks like a giant mouldy potato as a mask.

Yup, it's Leatherface looking twice as wide and three times as shit as he did in the original.

Imagine a homeless and char-grilled Susan Boyle wielding a chainsaw but only half as scary.

And he's had his teeth done.

I never thought I'd say this but at this point I was beginning to miss R. A. Mihailoff.

And his mask was made from a handbag.

Anyway within seconds of meeting Darryl, good old Leatherface bludgeons him to death with a chair leg before going back to whatever it is serial killers do when they're locked in a cellar.

I don't know what's more disturbing, Tania Raymonde's shorts or the fact that Leatherface shops at Poundland.

Returning to discover the house has been turned over (not literally tho' that'd be too exciting), Heather and her friends fret among themselves for a few minutes before deciding to go ahead with the party anyway which is good news for camp Kenny as it means he can show off his cooking skills (which frankly have to be better than his acting ones).

Heather decides to spend the time before dinner trying on a dead woman's clothes whilst Ryan and Nikki sneak off to a nearby barn for 'the sex'.

It's like an episode of Jeremy Kyle but with better teeth.

All these grunting, squelching sounds coupled with the aroma of boiled onions obviously begins to annoy poor Leatherface who, in a move that would be out of place on Masterchef, storms upstairs and impales Kenny on a hook.

As Greg would say "Cooking doesn't get much tougher than this!"


That's not the only shocking thing in the house tho' as whilst Heather is searching thru' her grans drawers she inadvertently comes across (in a non-sexual way obviously, tho' that would brighten the movie up a wee bit) Verna Carson's decomposing corpse laid out on the sofa.

As one would.

Running from the room and screaming like a very screamy thing our hapless heroine is soon knocked unconscious by Leatherface, who by this point is obviously pissed off at all the noise and in desperate need of an early night.

Not even a glistening pair of sexy man-tits can save this movie.

Waking up in Leatherface's kitchenette, Heather manages to lie still long enough to watch Kenny being cut in half before escaping into the garden cum graveyard but old leathery is in hot pursuit.

And quite a bold tie.

Luckily for Heather (in a life or death way, not a relationship one) Ryan's lovin' has been interupted by all the screaming and chainsaw noises forcing him to prematurely shoot his load over Nikki's knees and go investigate.

Using her unnaturally large and pale breasts to draw Leatherface's attention away from our house-hoping heroine, Nikki manages to dazzle the potato-faced freak giving Heather enough time to get to their van and pick up her friends.

Phew.

It's not all fun and games tho' as in the ensuing chase, Leatherface saws through one of the van's tires, causing it to overturn, killing Ryan to death and trapping Nikki under the weight of her plastic boobs.

The only way you'd get someone to sit thru' this mess.

Using the old excuse that she really needs a wee, Heather leaves her friend to die and escapes to the local carnival were comedy greatness ensues as she's chased about Ala Benny Hill whilst various carnival goers fain disinterest.

Even the horses on the roundabout look bored.

Tired of the distinct lack of character development or respect he's been given Leatherface throws his chainsaw away in a huff and fucks off home, leaving Heather to finally meet up with (a now make-up free) Sheriff Hooper (who suddenly bares a startling resemblance to Yaphet Koto in Live and Let Die) who kindly explains the films plot.

Mis-matched undies?...A more deserving reason to die I can't think of.

 Yup, as bizarre as it may sound Heather is actually Leatherface's cousin and he only killed her pals because he got a fright when the doorbell rang and he's a wee bit shy round new people.

If only she'd read her grans letter beforehand but then we'd have had to endure the total character assassination of a much loved horror icon 65 minutes earlier.

It really puts the Sawyer family crimes into perspective now, I mean it was only a bit of murder, cannibalism and car theft.

Why can't they all just let bygones be bygones and get along?

Well that'll be because Hartman is still holding a grudge.

Luckily it's not The Grudge he's holding but going by this if he was it'd be the shite remake.

Gathering up his Deputy Sheriff son Carl (Clint's son Scott) and some chubby bloke we met earlier, Hartman decides to kidnap Heather and tie her up in the old slaughterhouse with her breasts exposed in the hope that cousin Leatherface will turn up to rescue her.

Seriously.

Will this evil plan work?

Will Leatherface put on a comedy curly wig for the climax?

Will anyone involved with this monstrosity ever be able to hold theirs heads high in public again?

Just a pity it chose to wear a Mr. Potato Head one today.

Fucking hell that was rough.

Texas Chainsaw 3-D must win the prize for biggest single abuse of a beloved film character in known history, it's like the Jimmy Savile of celluloid. Everything we know and love about the original film is shat on from a great height and diluted into a sub-par approximation of what a slasher movie should be.

Which is actually quite terrifying when you think about it as one of them wrote  Jason Goes To Hell which is quite frankly fucking brilliant.

Add to that it commits the heinous crime of totally wiping the fantastic TCM 2 from the canon in order to violently stick their aberration into the originals continuity like a sex crazed hobo attempting to mount an angelic cherub.

Subo heads round to my house after reading this review.

Can you believe it took SIX people to write this, which if anything is good news for 'director' Luessenhop seeing as he can't take the sole blame for it so it must be one of the 12, yes count them, 12 producers that green-lit this car wreck.

Except Tobe Hooper obviously, he was probably too drunk to know what day it was poor sod.

I mean who in their right mind hires folk like the fantastic Bill Moseley only to kill him off within seconds of him appearing then give the majority of the movies dialogue to singer turned actor Tremaine 'Trey Songz' Neverson?

But, I hear you cry, it can't be all that bad.

Well I'm sorry but it is.

Tho'  I must admit that Alexandra Daddario has very pretty eyes.

But is that any excuse to leave this crime unpunished?

I think not.

Till next time....

porn again.

You want porn but worried your mum might find it?

Then why not give these oh so amusing titles a try then you can convince your friends (and yourself) that you hadn't realised that they weren't the originals!

You

skid row.

Check me reviewing the 'modern' films and trying to be down with 'ver kids'.

Yup, must be that midlife crisis rearing it's ugly head.

That and the fact that Caroline D'Amore's frighteningly poppy eyes are spookily hypnotic in their intensity, almost as if she could see me undressing thru' the screen.

Sorority Row (2009).
Dir: Stewart Hendler.
Cast: Briana Evigan, Leah Pipes, Rumer Willis, Jamie Chung, Margo Harshman, Audrina Patridge, Caroline D'Amore and Dame Carrie of Fisher.

"Ellie, I love you because you're always
there to help with homework.
You're like a spellcheck with a nice rack".

Welcome to the Theta Pi sorority house where a group of twenty something pneumatic actresses desperately trying to pretend that they're teenagers are enjoying one of those big parties that only American kids seem to hold.

I mean we were lucky if we were able to sneak out for a crafty fag after lights out without Matron catching us.

This is a great excuse to not only meet our main cast (and get a glimpse at their 'characters') but to see some pert bummed young actresses bouncing around on trampolines in their pants whilst listening to Get U Home by top pop combo Shwayze.

Ah bliss.

Between the amusing drinking japes and topless dancing we're introduced to our six sexy sorority sluts; the soon to be dead Megan (The Hill's Partride), the Acromegaly headed Ellie (the chisel chinned yet curvy of breast Willis), caster legged loose lass Chugs (Run of The House's Harshman - who is neither harsh nor a man), token Asian babe Claire (Chung from Dragonball: Evolution), queen bitch, group leader and possessor of a strange old/young face Jessica (Pipes, daughter of the Ghostwatch baddie and star of far too many American shit-coms to mention) and nice girl (with a boys name) Cassidy (Evigan, daughter of the great god Greg Evigan and star of the Linkin Park video for their single Numb).

So, can we get back to the plot now?

Thank God they've got legs, I mean imagine
the mess they'd make if they were snails.

Well it seems that Megan's beau the rat-like Garrett (who is also Chug's brother) has been having it away with another girl and our cheeky chicks are planning the revenge to end all revenge.

This involves pretending to drug Megan so she falls 'unconscious' then have her vomit up chicken soup halfway thru' foreplay.

If that wasn't complicated enough the girls have rigged up a camera so they can record the whole thing for posterity.

Everything is going according to plan and, on cue Megan sits up, barfs and the collapses as her friends run in screaming as Garrett wets himself in the corner before stomping off to the toilet for a cry (and no doubt finish himself off).

"I don't mind touching his corns but hairy or not
there's no way I'm shite-in' in his mooth".

Reckoning that they could take this fabulous joke even further, Jessica persuades Megan to start dribbling in an attempt to convince poor Garrett that he has, in fact killed her.

And you wonder why I think all blondes are evil.

Driving to a deserted old mine in the middle of nowhere the girls pop Megan on the floor as they discuss who's going to cut the body up, where they should hide it etc., occasionally looking over at Garrett and sneering as he gets more and more hysterical and pissed stained.

They can't have been paying to much attention to him tho' as the next thing you know he's buried a tire iron into Megan's chest in an attempt to clear her lungs of air so she'll sink quicker when throw into the nearby lake.

Quite understandably the poor guy is fairly surprised when, at the point of impact Megan sits up screaming as torrents of blood shoot from her chest cavity.

Jessica decides that now would be the best time to tell Garrett that it was all a practical joke and that Megan wasn't really dead.

As you can probably guess, Garrett fails to see the funny side of the whole thing and continues to cry whilst the girls argue amongst themselves as to what to do.

Luckily good old (yet young faced, remember?) Jessica has a plan and using her amazing powers of persuasion (and bitchy bullying tactics) convinces everyone that they should dump their pals body down a mineshaft and continue their lives as normal.

Cassidy, being a good egg with a cool name disagrees, trying to get everyone to go to the police and explain what happened.

Jessica takes a moment to think it over before threatening Cass with a bloody good hiding and, to keep her quiet, gets Chugs and Claire to wrap Megan's body in Cassidy's coat so as to keep her quiet.

Admit it, you would,
if only to get to meet her dad.

Jump forward eight months and it's time for our girls to get ready to bid farewell to college life. Cassidy is no longer part of the cool gang, devoting her spare time to charity and voluntary work (seriously they even make a point of mentioning it about three times) and hanging about with her gorgeous (and not mental, oh no) boyfriend whilst the bitchiness goes on as normal for the other Theta Pi gals.

Everything is going swimmingly until half way thru' the ceremony Megan's spooky eyed, square faced sister, Maggie (Pizza Connection heiress D'Amore) appears in a slo-mo windswept haze that freaks out the already jittery Ellie and sends Chugs off to find solace between the legs of a hunky jock.

I think this is what they call foreshadowing or something.

"Shhhiiiiiiimmmmooooooooooo!!!!!"

Understandably freaked out by Maggie turning up out of the blue (and the fact that when she speaks to them her eyes seem to pop out her skull and wander around on their own) the girls call a conference in the kitchen, partly to remind those watching (you know the ones with low attention spans) that they killed her sister but mainly to showcase Rumor Willis' fantastic ability to cry on cue whilst still pointing her milky white breasts at the camera.

Which turns out to be a good thing because then you don't have to look at her face.

Deciding that the excitement of the day is causing them to be over-sensitive, the girls vow to kick back and enjoy themselves but at that very moment everyone's mobile phone begins to ring.

Well, everyone in the room I mean, not worldwide that would be too spooky.

Tho' at that point I did get a text message from a friend wanting to borrow Sadomaster. Not related but considerably more interesting than the movie so far.

Answering their phones our teen temptresses are shocked to see that someone (or something....nah, scratch that, it's someone) has sent them a picture of the tire iron used to kill Megan.

Someone knows what they did last, um, semester and is planning revenge.

But who?

Could it be the by now loony tunes Garrett?

Is Megan still alive?

Or has someone else found out the girls secret?

Well, at least we know that Cassidy's normal and not mental Beau will have nothing to do with it.

But the girls are living on borrowed time because within minutes of the texts someone has taken to running around in long black college robes, shoving wine bottles down folks throats and throwing modified tire irons at various cast members with unnerving accuracy.

"Eyes hen!"

The original 1983 version of House on Sorority Row is a nice little revenge thriller with a neat(ish) twist that's by no means the worst slasher ever made but as far as re-imaginings go Hollywood must be scraping at the bottom of the horror barrel with it's broken, dirtied fingernails if it thinks that what the world needed was a big budget remake of it.

But remake they did and surprisingly it's not that bad.

Well, apart from the final twenty minutes where the whole damn thing falls apart and melts into a cheaply made porridge of over-acting and wild eyed lunacy.

Short film director (and director of short films) and ex member of Blue by the look of him Stewart Hendler builds on the atmospherics and (unintentional) hysterics that he began in his first major feature, 2007's Josh (Lost) Holloway starring heist/kidnap/devil child hybrid Whisper and certainly has an eye for murder set pieces with the black gloved, Giallo inspired killer using everyday items like wine bottles, Jacuzzi's as well as a custom made, multi-bladed tire iron to dispatch members of the teen cast.

Which frankly is why you're watching in the first place.

Duncan from Blue,
up the casino, 1989....yesch!

A huge surprise tho' are the amount of references to the 1983 version to be found within the script (I'll give you "I'm a sea pig!" but you can find the rest yourself) which frighteningly for a slasher remake kinda hints that the writers Josh Stolberg and Pete Goldfinger must be fans of the original.

Or at least seen it once whilst scribbling away in a kiddies notebook.

Sexy, bitchy and stylishly shot, in the end Sorority Row is ultimately as vapid and transparent as it's lead characters, so like poor old Chugs in the movie worth fiddling about with for an hour or so on a drunken Saturday night but there's no way I'd take it home to meet my folks.