dance macabre.

My top internet buddie and head of the Get Your Genki music label - Giornata Nera - posted earlier that he'd just purchased a brand new Blu-Ray copy of this and was going to give it a rewatch seeing as he couldn't remember a thing about it.

And even more bizarrely the twins were away at - gulp - dance class today.

No murders tho'.

So it's almost fated that myself and the Cassman would spend our afternoon watching this.



Murder Rock: Death Dancing (AKA Giallo a disco, Murder Rock - Dancing Death, Slashdance, 1984).
Dir: Lucio Fulci.
Cast: Olga Karlatos, Berna Maria do Carmo, Cosimo Cinieri, Claudio Cassinelli, Ray Lovelock, Geretta Geretta, Al Cliver, Silvia Collatina, Giovanni de Nava, aria Vittoria Tolazzi, Carla Buzzanca, Angela Lemerman, Christian Borromeo and Belinda Busato.

Save the last dance . . . for hell!

The co-ed dance students at the very real sounding yet entirely fictional Arts for Living Center in New York City are being worked into a disco frenzy every hour of the day as their graduation performance fast approaches.

Not only that but it seems that a prestigious New York stage show is about to open and the producers want the three best female dancers from the class for the lead roles.

And their fearsome tutor Candice Norman (Zombie Flesh Eaters harsh hottie herself - Karlatos) who had her own dancing career cut tragically short by a hit and run accident years ago knows how hard she must push her students if they're to succeed even if it means shattered dreams for all except the chosen few.

Hopefully tho' she wont be pushing them under any motorbikes and giving them shattered pelvises instead.

Just saying.

It's not all studio based gyrating tho' as after a particularly sweaty diisco inferno-esque dance routine, saucy, local nosed student Joan (the hamster like  Carmo, providing I've got the right actress it's all a bit of a haze) and her boyfriend Willy (Mark Hamill alike Borromeo from Tenebrae) decide meet up in the ladies locker room for some bumping and grinding of a different kind.


And by that I mean they're going to be having some of 'the sex'.


So after some hot n' heavy 'making out' (as the kids call it) and being aware that the automated security system is about to lock the school, Willy heads off to wash his bits in preparation for some proper poking whilst Joan has a shower to 'cool down'.

Fuck me having sex was really complicated in the 80s, no wonder I stuck to books.


Quite literally in some cases.*

"Tissues in mah mooth!"

Unfortunately for her - but bloody lucky for us after the flurry of crotch obsessed musical numbers -there's a black clad killer on the loose who sneaks into the shower cubicle and chloroforms the nubile dancer before stabbing her in the heart with an ornate hat pin.

As you do.

As dawn breaks it'll come as no surprise when I say that the rest of the dance class is shocked (or is that totally apathetic? it's hard to tell) as accusations begin to fly and gossip starts to spread like warm runny butter down a small childs thigh.

Surely it wasn't one of the other students that committed this foul (if not oh so slightly erotically charged) murder to better their chances of an audition?

Hard nosed, brick chinned chubster Lieutenant Borges (Cinieri from The New York Ripper looking for the world like a less gin - and piss - soaked Hugo Stiglitz) has absolutely no idea, but you can be pretty sure he's going to use the murder as an excuse to slap the kids around a bit, stuff his face with nuts and swear a lot till he finally solves the case.

What a guy.

 

Hands up if you think this blog is shite.

Remembering that even tho' the film is attempting to look - and feel - like a big budget American thriller it is in fact an Italian giallo so at some point one of the characters must experience a bizzaro dream sequence and in this case it's Candice who suddenly starts sweatily dreaming about a hunky blond guy chasing her around a kids play park and trying to stab her with a hat pin.

Seems legit.

Anyway as the plot gets more and more obtuse and more and more girls are murdered - alongside a wee chaffinch in a cage, the bastard - Borges deduces that each one is being killed in order of class merit.

If that at happened when I attended art school I'd have been royally screwed.

And not just by the sleazy librarian Mr Chisholm.

But I digress.

To take her mind off such matters Candice decides a day in the country would be nice so persuades her school girl chasing, bespectacled college Dick Gibson (Mountain of The Cannibal God's Cassinelli - seriously this movie is a veritable who's who of Euro Horror) to accompany her and with picnic packed and a clean pair of pants in her pocket the duo head out onto the road but almost immediately come across (not in that way) a billboard ad for hemorrhoid cream that features the same mysterious man as is in her dreams.

After a wee bit of rudimentary detective work on her part (which let's be honest is much more than Borges has done) Candice discovers that the mystery man is one George Webb (Living Dead At The Manchester Morgue's Lovelock), an alcohol actor cum model with a thing for pre-teen girls and a dark secret.

Because being a pedo isn't dark enough obviously.

"You may feel a tiny prick."

Obviously the best way for Candice to prove he did/didn't do the bad murders is to almost immediately jump into bed with him in and have loads of sex, oblivious to the fact  that all around her chaos is reigning supreme and everyone and their dog becomes a suspect or at the very least has a bizarre secret to hide.

For starters it turns out that Dick had been trying to bed the dead girls, one of the male students is a nutter who actually confesses to the crimes (he did it because he hates 'Spics' apparently), George once had an affair with a 15 year old who mysteriously died and Fame-like fellow dance tutor Margie (friend of this blog Geretta) hates Candice so much that she goes as far as dressing up as the Killer, chloroforming her and attempting to stick her with a pin.

Phew!

As even more girls turn up on the slab and with fewer and fewer suspects left standing, will Lieutenant Borges be able to pin the crime on the killer before it's too late?

It was the early 80's and the Giallo genre was fading out of fashion in Italy, replaced by futuristic action flicks, slasher movies and an invasion of big budget American fare such as Flashdance and the like.

Silk stockings and blood red shoes were out and leather shoulder pads, crotch cutting leotards and amusing hairstyles were most definitely in.

It would take a man of unhinged genius to try and revive Giallo's fortunes and save this fantastic sub genre; and Lucio Fulci happily took the challenge.

The result was Murder Rock, a schizophrenic mishmash of murder, mystery, body popping and cheesy disco hits straight out of Fame.

From the opening scenes of a demanding female instructor putting her students thru' their paces to close ups of the shaggy haired keyboard jiving student miming to a poptastic Kieth Emerson score you know you're in for something special as Fulci treats us to consistent (and totally unnecessary) close-ups of spandex clad bouncy arses, sweaty heaving breasts and a plethora of thrusting hips.

One sequence is actually taken shot for shot from the aforementioned Flashdance, when one of the students (female thankfully) auditions for a nightclub boss.

Chair dancing and drenched in water with her backside fighting to escape the tiniest thong in living memory, Fulci's only addition to the scene is a frightening number of crash zooms into the dancers crotch at every opportunity.

And for that we must thank him.

Forever.

Five fingers, never touched the side.

As for the cast well, as mentioned earlier it's a fanboy's dream come true, featuring as it does nearly ever major player from the heyday of Italian horror.

As well as those already mentioned - Olga (Zombie Flesh Eaters and later Prince's mum in Purple Rain) Karlatos, Cosimo (Manhattan Baby) Cinieri, the late great Claudio (Island of The Fishmen) Cassinelli, Geretta (Rats) Geretta, Al Cliver (and beard) in an uncredited cameo and Ray Lovelock - there are also top turns from such Euro superstars as Giovanni (The Beyond) de Nava and the scarily sexy red head Silvia (House By The Cemetery) Collatina of whom I still crush over to this day.

Tho' I'm friends with her on Facebook so I should really keep that quiet.

Don't tell anyone will you?

With fantastic cinematography from the god like Giuseppe Pinori, top gore effects and more sweaty and naked ladies than you can stick a hat pin in, Murder Rock is well worth the couple of quid it'll cost you at Cash Converters so jump in and boogie on down to one of Fulci’s greatest movies.

No seriously.

*Case in point:

baked being.

It's Easter Sunday.

This film is set on Easter Sunday.

Result.

The Being (1983).
Dir: Jackie Kong.
Cast: Martin Landau, José Ferrer, Dorothy Malone, Ellen Blake, Kinky Friedman, Kent Perkins, Ruth Buzzi, Marianne Gordon, Bill Osco (as Rexx Coltrane), Roxanne Cybelle Osco and Jerry Marin.

Laurie: "But if this thing is actually killing people, then why is the mayor trying to keep it quiet? "
Detective Lutz: "Potatoes."

Welcome to Pottsville, the potato capital of the good ol' US of A where our story (well it's more of a sketch really) begins with a disheveled teen is busying running thru' a high-tech nuclear waste facility (impressively played by the old scrapyard behind the directors house) as he attempts to escape from an as yet unseen assailant.

The chase appears to go on for hours - seeing as it starts in broad daylight yet continues into night time -  but luckily it's not in real-time meaning it's only a few (on screen) minutes before  we can breathe a sigh of relief as the troubled teen finally finds an abandoned car (not too sure if that's nuclear too) and drives off into the night.

Unfortunately as he's tuning the radio for the local traffic news a huge claw rips thru' the roof and proceeds to tear the poor kids head off causing the car to crash into a nearby potato warehouse.

Obviously the police rush to investigate this spud-based bust up but can find no sign of the driver or his head.

What they do discover however is that the entire interior of the car is covered in blood and green slime.

The towns top tec - and our hero for the evening - Detective Mortimer Lutz (producer and husband of director Kong - Osco, which if nothing else goes to show exactly who he had to fuck to get in the picture) is baffled by the lack of evidence so heads off to the toilet leaving local mechanic Steve Soontodie to carry on examining the wreck.

Unfortunately he neglects to check in the boot which unsurprisingly is where a big monster (or 'The Being' as he's known to his pals) is hiding.

Ain't that always the way?

As you can guess he pops out and eats the mechanic whole.

And I've just realised that I can't do the 'they usually spit that bit out' shtick seeing as I worded the last sentence wrong.

Arse.

"Are you looking at my bra?"

After a few minutes (it obviously wasn't a poo) Lutz returns to find the boot open, a huge pile of slime on the floor and the mechanic nowhere to be seen save his tool belt lying discarded on the floor..

Being a great detective Lutz reckons Steve just got bored and went home and with a shrug of his shoulders decides to do the same.

Taggart this ain't.

Whom I kidding it's not even Scots Squad.

Anyway there's a murderous monster based mayhem to be getting on with so to this end we're quickly introduced to local lass Brenda Slagg who is all dolled up and waith for her boyfriend Jeff Studley to arrive so they can head to the local drive-in and rut like bunnies on the front seat of her car.

Who says romance is dead?

As the pair are getting down and getting it on as the kids say they singularly fail to notice the green slime oozing thru' the dashboard until it's too late and the gunk has manifested as a scaly clawed arm that tears the pair limb from limb, their screams drowned out by the screams on the big screen.

Within minutes the beast - sorry The Being - has ripped the head off a stoner, shouted out the ending of the film and shit in the popcorn before disappearing into the night leaving poor Lutz with yet another unexplained killing or three to investigate.

Sitting in the couples car to look for clues our hero ends up with his arse covered in slime yet none the wiser as to what is going on so with that he heads home for a tearful wank and a Pot Noodle in the hope of figuring out not only what or who is killing folk but how he ended up as sheriff of a town built on spuds and how he'll managed to get his jeans clean for the next day.

But he's not alone as something - or some being - is watching him from the shadows.

Hearing a strange noise as he slowly slips his tight bums out of his shrink to fit jeans Lutz heads outside to investigate only to be pounced on - OK pounced at - by the creature but Lutz is too quick the beast and manages to run away, jumping across a railroad track in front of an oncoming train to lose the beast.

Again I've no idea how long he was running as the scene begins in the dead of night yet ends in broad daylight.

The fucker must be really fit.

Or Pottsville has really short days.

Either works for me.

Martin Landau tries to count the cost of his divorce.

Now totally convinced that something bad is afoot Lutz heads to the local diner where his college sweetheart Laurie (ex Missis Kenny Rogers, Gordon from Rosemary's Baby) works alongside the toothsome yet scarily pillowed Jenny (Glasgow's own Blake from The Last Starfighter and Hill Street Blues who really should have way much more to do here as she's fab) in order to convince her to let him walk her home as he reckons that some crazy shit is going down.

She smiles at him with the smile of a mother to an idiot child and agrees, with a happy face and a skip in his step Lutz heads off to meet with Mayor Gordon Lane (Ferrer - paying for a new pool) to discuss how to deal with the killings.

Oh and to ask for a mop and bucket to clean up the slime.

Talking of cleaning up the slime he also has to contend with the mayor's wife Virginia (Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In legend Buzzi) and her "Clean up the town of pornography" campaign that she's started due to the fact that a massage parlour may be opening on the high street.

On arriving at the mayor's office Lutz is surprised to find him in the company of the famed toxic waste specialist and advisor to the state of Idaho on regional and environmental safety Dr. Garson Jones (Space: 1999’s Commander John Koenig himself, Landau, still paying a shit load of alimony to ex-wife Barbara Bain - hence his appearances in stuff like this and The Dark) who is currently explaining that the toxic gunk being empty into the local water supply is in no way harmful to the townsfolk or their potatoes.

Hmmm....I'm not too sure.

"Can I have a cup of coffee please?" "Neigh bother!"

Obviously writer/director Kong felt that there wasn't enough strange shit going on so later Lutz retires to bed early to catch a few ZZZZs before meeting up with Laurie only to experience a lucid dream of Pee Wee's Playhouse proportions as he imagines sharing a romantic plane journey with Dr Jones that's cut short not just by the mayor's wife flying by on a broomstick shouting "Arse!" but also by the beast/being dragging Jones out of the plane to his death.

Waking in a cold sweat and with a noticeable erection, Lutz realises he's overslept and quickly heads out to meet Laurie who by this time has decided to walk home alone, stopping only to stare at local crazy lady Marge Smith (Oscar winning star of Peyton Place Malone) who has taken to wandering the streets in a onesie since her son Michael has disappeared

Interestingly her son vanished just before the spate of killings started.

Could this be related?

Frankly by this point I don't care.

And to be honest I don't think the writer does either.

Back to the plot (and I use that term loosely) and Lutz has caught up with Laurie just as she reaches her car but as she's about to get in a large spunky cushion is thrown at her from off set, causing the pair to scream and run back to the diner.

No hang on I think that was meant to be the monster.

Never mind.

After a game of cat and mouse so tense it puts the bit in Alien with Dallas in the air vent to shame the pair finally trap the creature in the freezer next to the waffles before ringing the mayor to come and take a look but who'd have guessed it the beast liquefies and escapes down the drain before he arrives leaving him little choice but to berate Lutz for being a bit shit then returning home to the dinner party cum music recital organised by his wife.

Meanwhile the beast is busying itself eating three local men who've sneaked into the building earmarked for the massage parlour in order to torch it.

Which is nice.

If totally irrelevant to the plot.

"Put it in me!"

Anyway, arriving home the Mayor is shocked to find that the creature has hitched a ride on the roof of the car so as anyone would do in that situation he accelerates out of the garage (and thru' the doors) leaving his poor wife standing on the lawn looking bewildered as he drives away.

Bewilderment soon turns to horror tho' - or it may be ecstasy or trapped wind, I can't really tell - when the beast wraps its forked tongue around her skinny
bird-like neck and kills her.

To death.

Obviously bored with being sidetracked from the action Laurie decides to go have a chat with the aforementioned Marge at her house but is shocked to find the toilet seat covered in the same slime the creature leaves everywhere.

Marge however is unconcerned saying that it's just Michael making a mess around the house as kids do.

Could Michael be the beast after ingesting radioactive goo?

Was he mutated in the womb due to contaminated water?

Was he the creatures first victim?

Frankly we'll never know as this plot thread is quickly dropped in favour of Lutz, Garson and Laurie heading off to the dump to hunt the creature down before getting a wee bit scared and heading back to town for a quick snack and a chat.

Crisps eaten and fizzy pop drunk Lutz heroically locks Laurie in a jail cell before heading back out with Garson to hunt down the creature again, this time armed with guns.

Guns to kill a creature that can turn into liquid.

Go figure.

"Laugh now!"

 

After a bit more chasing around and shooting - and a moving speech about radioactive waste - the pair decide that they've definitely killed the creature so head off to a local warehouse to celebrate but, surprise surprise, the beast isn't dead and quickly kills Garson before biting Lutz's ankle.

Limping and alone our heroic cop must face down the beast armed only with some huge containers of sulphuric acid and a massive axe.....

Same shit, different smell.

The first movie from director/producer/screenwriter Jackie Kong The Being is a trashy, lo-fi throwback to the atomic monster movies of the 50s - with added gore and breasts - that makes up for its lack of logic and plot by just being great fun to watch.

I must be getting soft in my old age.

From Martin Landau's OTT scientist to Ruth Buzzi's uptight comedy conservative via Ferrer's drunken, potato obsessed mayor everyone plays it perfectly - true they may all appear to be in different movies but it actually works even Osco's charisma free  and obvious uncomfortable lead performance feels right, even down to the way he clumsily walks in his slightly too tight jeans.

But to be honest I think his character choices may have been intentional when you look closely at his career.

Originally a producer/director whose 1970 film Mona the Virgin Nymph was one of the first 'erotic art films' to receive a national theatrical release in the United States, he went on to produce Flesh Gordon (1974) as well as the comedy porn musical Alice in Wonderland: An X-Rated Musical Comedy (1976) as well as a stage version of the very same film in 2007.

In addition to his porn output he also produced Kong's output during the 1980s - and between this and the rather splendid Blood Diner is where his surreal - and sometimes downright silly - sensibilities totally compliment Kong's lo-fi John Waters-esque directing choices perfectly.

Tunnel or funnel?

To be honest the only thing that could make this any more enjoyable was if the kills were intercut with musical numbers but you can't have everything.

Plus any movie where the director casts her daughter as a toddler who may or may not get eaten by a slime encrusted monster during a cheerily scored Easter Egg hunt gets top marks as far as I'm concerned.

Sub-atomic bare arsed genius.

nemod syad.

Mausoleum (1983).
Dir: Michael Dugan.
Cast: Marjoe Gortner, Bobbie Bresee, Norman Burton, Maurice Sherbanee, LaWanda Page, Laura Hippe, Sheri Mann, Julie Christy Murray, Chu Chu Malave and Gene Edwards.

 

There's some strange shit goin' on in this house!

Like any good horror film worth its salt we open on a windswept graveyard where the young - and frighteningly dog faced - Susan (bony kneed Murray in her only film role outside those shorts she did to pay her way thru' college) is mourning her recently deceased mother as her posh tottie-like aunt Cora (Logan's Run and Swinging Barmaids star Hippe who killed herself shortly after making this movie - take from that what you will) pats her on the shoulder uncomfortably whilst offering to buy her ice cream and a pony to replace her dearly departed parent.

Why do I never get offered ponies?

Oblivious to all the bribery being offered (and wanting a unicorn probably - girls are never happy) Susan legs it and soon takes refuge in an old superimposed rainswept and spookily lit mausoleum (bearing her family name - Nemod - I'm sure her family must originally be from the village Nilbog featured in Troll2.) that is in no way at all scary or foreboding.

No seriously it's not, it actually looks for all the world like it's been outlined in Sharpie the matte work is so shit.

As a spooky fog rolls from its gates Susan pricks her finger on a crown of thorns hanging outside before entering the tomb to be confronted by a shadowy figure with unkempt nails who offers her blessed relief whilst making a passing pedophiles head explode.

Which seems legit.

I can see your house from here Peter.

 
Thru' the power of editing and rudimentary dissolves we're suddenly in the present day (which is the past now....scary eh?) where we find a now adult Susan (ex Playboy bunny Bresee in a performance that's all tits and teeth but not much else which at least means she fits in right at home here) living in a massive house albeit one filled with way too many windows and staircases than is needed and happily married to the ferret-like business bloke Oliver (Starcrash 'star', B'-movie god and once the world's youngest ordained preacher, Gortner) and obsessed with the colour brown for some reason.


Seriously, the house, her clothes, the plants - everything in this movie has the colour palette of dried cack.

Except when a demon appears then the fucker is lit up like a disco.

But I digress.

All seems normal (if you ignore everyone's stilted body language and speech patterns obviously) until that is Susan starts to act a wee bit strangely - or is that just begins to act?

Answers to the usual address.

Oliver thinks he has the perfect answer to Susan's woes so decides to take her disco dancing at the local nite spot where they enjoy (well I say enjoy but to be honest they just look dead inside tho' at least Bresee tries her hardest to look hip n' happening as she pulls a classic 'Le disco duck face') frugging away to some turgid instrumental disco track that even Mike Read would balk at for being too shit.

And he wrote the UKIP Calypso.

Luckily (for us) the whole ordeal is cut short when a drunken beardy man (who I was convinced was original Grizzly Adams star Dan Haggerty but was in fact Gene Edwards who played him in the 1990 remake/sequel) tries to molest Susan on the dance floor whilst Oliver is on the phone causing the couple to call it a night and head home.

Unfortunately the drunk bloke follows them but after a wee bit of shoving he wanders off to his car in order to drunkenly drive home, probably killing a few kids on the way.

But hey it's the 80s and no-one cared back then.

Suddenly and without warning - if you don't count the spooky score - Susan's eyes begin to glow green as she stares at the car for what seems like an eternity (thanks in part to the eye effect being animated over a still) before causing it to burst into flames, trapping and burning weirdy beardy to death inside.

"Eye hen!"

 

And from then on things go from bad to worse as poor Susan experiences angry mood swings and night sweats before turning into a full-blown psycho when she starts offering Ben the sleazy gardener (council estate David Hess, Sherbanee, who's probably been in other stuff but I can't be bothered checking) fresh cups of coffee whilst stroking her breasts then having sex with him in the garage and finally murdering the poor sod (to death) with a garden fork.

Aunt Cora is next on the death wish list, slashed to death whilst being levitated over the staircase after popping round with a cake.

Luckily no-one seems to notice until Oliver wakes up one night to find Susan sitting in a chair spouting gibberish and sporting a pair of comedy horns on her now donkey like head.

Terrified he runs down stairs and quickly calls their old friend and family psychiatrist Dr. Simon Andrews (Burton from Simon, King of the Witches which scarily is actually sitting on my desk as I type this) to ask for help.

It seems that Susan had a few mental health issues as a child due to her dad dying whilst trying to exorcise the demon that had possessed her mother.

Turns out that according to family legend a demonic curse has been passed down the female line of the Nomed family ever since some bizarre incident involving a crown of thorns (what? another one? - maybe this is important) and a sausage roll way back in 1692.

Anyway with all this demonic possession shite going around and with the movie hitting the halfway point it's time for a wee bit of comic relief so enter (roughly behind the bins) the Farrell's cleaner cum housemaid Elsie (Sanford and Son's Page who bizarrely enough at the start of her career, while performing as a burlesque style stripper in Missouri, was billed as "The Bronze Goddess of Fire" because she could light cigarettes with her fingertips*) who - in either a piece of post-modern comedy genius or ill advised racial stereotyping spends her time rolling her eyes whilst shouting out stuff like:

"There's some strange shit goin' on in this house!"
 
"No more grievin'. I'm leavin'!"

And the classic

"Great googily moogily!"

Whilst running about in high-speed effects whilst comedy 'wah wah' music plays in the background.

I'll not comment.
 

Skulk.

With time - and anything remotely resembling logic - running out, Andrews contacts an old friend and colleague of his, the boyishly barnetted Dr. Roni Logan (Mann) for help.

Which is lucky cos she knows loads about demons and the like.

Bizarrely all she does is rereads the family diary as it turns out that the way to kill the demon and Save Susan is actually written in it.

In English and everything.

Yup it appears that the pesky crown of thorns from earlier is important to the plot and all Adams has to do is place it on Susan's head whilst she's not looking.

This will in turn force the demon back to it's tomb giving our heroes time to then place it on the tomb itself locking the creature inside.

Sorted.

Andrews probably skipped that bit but makes amends by phoning Oliver to warn him that when he returns home from work not under any circumstances to have sex with his wife in the bathroom as her breasts may grow teeth and bite him to death.

Which is fair enough.

"Are you the farmer?"

Meanwhile back at the house an Hispanic bloke (Malave who scarily actually had an acting career of sorts, appearing in everything from A Force of One alongside Chuck Norris to multiple roles in the Barney Miller TV show and starring alongside the 'statuesque' Dona Speir in Fit To Kill) is delivering plants and the like to Susan.

But that's not the only thing he wants to fertilize and he's soon in the kitchen phoning his boss to say he'll be late back to the garden centre as Susan seductively flashes her ample breasts at him.

Don't worry tho' as there's no time for any more uncomfortable sex scenes as Susan has t go shopping for some shit occult based art before the movies climax so she quickly makes the guys head melt before going heading to the mall.

No really.

She actually goes shopping and steals some sub Boris Vallejo fantasy art** - she also kills a bald man by dropping him on a spiky sculpture that just happens to be sitting conveniently  on a picnic table before heading home for a well deserved bubble bath.

It's interesting to note that the mentalism and murders isn't the thing that sends Oliver over the edge but the crap art scattered around the house so to prove his manliness he storms into the bathroom to confront his wife.

"Spice Girls number one for Christmas...MONSTA!"

His anger soon subsides tho' as Susan steps out of the bath and into his arms but as the pair embrace Susan begins to change.

It seems that the demon is aware that Andrews is attempting to steal the crown of thorns from the mausoleum at end its reign of terror.

 Will Andrews succeed?

Will Oliver get eaten by the terrifying tittie teeth?

Will Susan actually put some proper clothes on?

At the height of the 80s low budget horror resurgence film maker Michael Dugan (director of the classic Raging Hormones and currently making Youtube shorts and something called Chubby Chasers - go figure) decided what the world needed was a new scream queen to rival the likes of Jamie Lee Curtis, Adrienne King and Linnea Quigley so to that end decided to unleash the 'buxom and beautiful blonde actress' (according to IMDB) Bobbie Bresee upon the world in his second feature - after the 1976 family comedy Super Seal - Mausoleum.

Now don't all thank him at once.

A living embodiment of everything terrifying about the 80s - big boobs an even bigger blonde barnet and teeth so white they could blind you, Bresee is the main focus of the movie and Dugan structures the whole endeavor to showcase her talents as she runs the emotional gamut from happy to sad to sexy via sleepy and maybe bashful and it's her powerhouse performance that makes the movie so compelling.

Only joking.

He cast her cos she didn't mind getting her kit off.

But she's not the only one.

If there's a chance that a character can appear topless Dugan grabs it - from 'star' Marjoe Gortner pulling angry cum faces on a faux fur rug to the mightily manbreasted Norman Burton seductively taking a phone call in his bed, we're not even spared the sight of Maurice Sherbanee's sweaty pot belly being on show as he wanders around with the bottom of his shirt unbuttoned rubbing it seductively as he lusts after Bresee.

None of this nudity would be that bad tho' if any of the cast actually looked happy doing it but as it stands they all just appear nervous and wishing they were anywhere else but there.

I just sat watching hoping and praying that the director would realise that if the actors look uncomfortable pretending to have sex or being naked then maybe he'd see that we the viewer will feel uncomfortable watching.

Poor sods.

Except Sherbanee obviously - he seemed to be reveling in his new found freedom.

Creepy bastard.

"Shite in mah mooth!"

This isn't helped by the cast actually coming across as quite likeable - Gortner is his usual inoffensive self whilst Burton and the rest appear to be enjoying themselves (mostly) and Bresee comes across as a likeable enough person out of her depth both onscreen and off which means at time rather than reeling in terror at the horrors onscreen you're cringing like a parent watching your offspring mess up their lines in the school nativity.

Hopefully not whilst naked tho.

Its saving grace tho' is the fantastic make-up FX work from the late great  John Carl Buechler whose career spanned Friday 13th Part VII to Hatchet and everything in between - the gore effects (especially the head explosion and melting man) are top notch and it still gives me a warm feeling to see a full prosthetic bodysuit on screen even if at times it looks more Space Precinct than Pazuzu.

Fairly mad, sometimes bad - frustratingly so at times - Mausoleum is a harmless and fairly pain free way to spend an evening provided you have enough beer and crisps at hand plus for anyone who's ever wonder what a school disco would look like if lit by Mario Bava then the possession scenes will answer that question for you.

And there isn't much higher recommendation than that.












































* She also swallowed fire and touched flaming torches to her naked body during her act as well as appearing on Rupaul's Supermodel Of The World Album and playing Rupaul.s mum in the Back To My Roots video.



**Tho' let's be honest he did produce some utter wank himself....like this Star Wars inspired piece for example:

snake eyes.

Ended up watching this whilst trying to finish up some work t'other night.

It was late, I was tired and just couldn't be arsed turning it off.

So it's my own fault obviously.

Brennan: Not you.

Tho' as a plus point it does feature a stand out performance from Joy Bang who looks a wee bit like top teen crush Peggy Lee Brennan from Message from Space.

In a certain light.

And if you squint.

Night of The Cobra Woman (1972).
Dir: Andrew Meyer.
Cast: Joy Bang, Marlene Clark, Roger Garrett, Vic Diaz, Rosemarie Gil, Vic Silayan and Slash Marks.

“I don’t know about you chicks running around cockfights but take off your dress.”

Welcome to a World War II torn Philippines (where life is cheap but film stock - and people willing to get their tits out for coppers - is cheaper) where army nurse Lena Aruza (Ex missis Billy Dee Williams Clark) and her equally nursey pal Francisca (Gil, currently starring as Doña Carmen Cortes in the hit teevee show Ngayon at Kailanman) have decided to take a break from saving soldiers to explore the local caves.

As you do.

Well Lena is exploring the caves as poor Francisca is scared of the dark so decides to sit on a rock and watch out for any evil Japanese types who may be skulking about.

Unfortunately as she's sitting adjusting her hat who should sneak out of the shadows but cult Filipino film star and professional bad guy Vic Diaz who grabs the poor girl before roughly putting it in her before shooting her in the tummy.

Ouch.

The gunshot startles a sleeping cobra in the cave who in turn bites Lena's (ample) arse but rather than kill her the venom imbues her with magical powers which she then uses to save her pal.

Sounds legit.

"I can see your house from here Peter!"

There's no time to think about any of that tho' as we're suddenly transported thru' time (via the medium of fim, not in reality obviously) to the 'modern day' where the toothsome student and UNICEF researcher Joanna (Bang - the reason we are here) is busy helping her kindly college professor Jeff Tezon (Silayan, creator of those little toy animal families that cost a fortune to collect) create (non-Autism causing) vaccines for snakebites.

Anyway it seems that during the course of her studies she'd heard about a reclusive old woman who owns an ultra-rare kind of snake (you can spot it by the shoddily marker penned diamond on its neck) that may have a venom that can cure stuff - or something - so decides to go visit her.

Arriving at the old ladies house she's greeted by an aged - well dipped in PVA glue) Francisca and told that as Lena (for the old snake lady is she) is meditating she can’t be disturbed so she should come back later.

Undeterred she decides to have a nosy around the garden where she's startled by a fat man in a set of comedy teeth and a too tight T-shirt dribbling and gurning from in a tree.

Turns out that this is Francisca's son Lope (Diaz again), who unlike his dad is only interested in the flower on her hat.

Terrified at the thought of his sweaty sausage fingers anywhere near her Joanna beats a hasty retreat back to the car and heads home to prepare to meet her boyfriend, the scarily skinny Stan Duff (One time Laverne & Shirley guest star Garrett) who is flying in from America to visit her that very evening.

And by prepare I mean have a crafty wank whilst gazing at his photograph obviously.

You have to admit that if nothing else she has a packed day.

It's just a pity that none of it is very exciting to watch.

Not even the furtive fiddling.

Bunnet.

Anyway, arriving at the airport just as Duff is picking up his luggage the pair have a girly hug n' kiss before firstly kidnapping an eagle that's sitting on a wall minding its own business and then offering a fellow American - Sergeant Angelus Merkle (Marks in his only film role outside the CCTV ones of him exposing himself in a kiddies playpark) - a lift into town seeing as his GI pals haven't turned up to get him.

Obviously worn out with all this action (and bird stealing) the pair head back to Joanna's room for some cuddling and stuff. and all whilst she wears really ill-fitting - yet oddly arousing - underwear.

The next day after Joanna has headed off to work Duff finds himself at a loose end so to amuse himself and maybe help his girlfriend out he decides to visit Lena himself in the hope of getting the information/venom/whatever the fuck it is/ that Joanna seeks so to this end puts on his best denim shirt and drives off to the village.

"Are you the farmer?"

As he's about to ring the doorbell tho' poor Duff is bitten by a deadly cobra and falls unconscious to the floor, luckily Lena appears just back from the local Aldi and sucks the venom out of him before putting him to bed to recover.

Worried about where her man has gotten to Joanna heads up to Lena's house and soon bumps into Francisca who, quite nonchalantly goes on to explain that Lena is an evil cobra woman cum deity whose psycho-sexual powers drain any man who sleeps with her and that Duff may be next on the list after Lope who is in fact Francisca's son.

Surprisingly Joanna takes all this information on face value and offers to steal some of the snake venom Lena's keeps in her drinks cabinet so that they can do something with it.

Maybe.

I honestly don't know.

She returns the next day with the eagle in tow (because eagles are the only creatures that can kill a cobra) and rings the bell only to be told - by Lena - that Duff's very tired after the biting and is still asleep but she should come back later.

Somehow (I wasn't paying attention) Joanna manages to steal the venom and leg it out of the house eager to meet up with Francisca but as the pair chat the evil cobra (who may or may not be a supernatural being) leaps on the poor woman and bites her.

To death.

Cue an exciting - if not entirely ethical real-life snake on bird fight as the eagle kills the cobra whilst Joanna heads off to work to study the vial of venom.

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

With her pet cobra killed Lena has no choice but to seduce Duff and make him her sex slave and draining his life force, you see it turns out that fucking random blokes till they whither and die is the only thing that stops her turning into a snake herself.

I think.

Unfortunately she needs to get the venom back from Joanna as that's the only thing that will restore Duff and make him fanciable again.

Probably.

Honestly I really don't know as I was more interested in catching a glimpse of Joy Bang in her pants again.

Look I'm only flesh and blood.

So to this end Lena hatches a plan where Duff will head over to the lab to steal back the venom whilst she wanders around the local market picking up random guys to have sex with, peeling her ever growing snakeskin off as she goes.

Just like you'd peel glue off your fingers in school.

"Raff row!"

And so begins a race against time - and tedium - as Lena's psychopathic sexcapades continue and more and more local studs (as well as Sergeant Merkle, who it turns out is a wee bit rapey so no loss) fall prey to the evil cobra woman.....

Will Joanna find a cure?

Will Dr Tezon ever get to smoke a full fag?

Will anything remotely interesting actually happen?

Only one way to find out cos I'm not telling.

From the late, great (well OK late) actor/writer/producer/director Andrew Meyer comes a film hat's probably most famous for being the first Roger Corman produced Filipino fright flick.

And even he's uncredited.

Let that sink in for a second.

Tho' it's not all bad.

Doubled up for its US release with the Mel Welles’ classic Lady Frankenstein, Night of The Cobra Woman feels like a strange hybrid of 30s monster movie and 50s sci-fi with added breasts and big pants hastily bunged together with a plot that's as nonsensical as it is convoluted.

And all that with a running time that's under 90 minutes.

I fang you.

It's not all bad tho' - only mostly - Marlene Clark gives it her all as the lizardy Lena whilst Joy Bang is her usual infinitely watchable self, Roger Garrett's performance on the other hand is so inconsequential and forgettable that they may have well as cast a scarecrow and had done with it.

His screen presence or lack of it may be due to the fact that he contracted a bizarre poultry infection whilst filming so I'll try not to be too harsh.

Nah fuck it he's shit.

But for every shite scene or eggbox effect there's a moment of true genius, like when Lena kills a topless farmer as a local guitarist jams in the background - nodding to the director as he waits for his cue to leave or when Lena upon attempting to seduce a street trader seductively lips her lips at his exposed arse crack.

Actually that's about it really.

But to be honest I can slag it off too much seeing as Andrew Meyer's first film - at the age of 23 - 'Match Girl' featured Andy Warhol in a starring role which is a fuck of a lot more than I achieved at that age.

Plus it does have a rather bookish heroine in glasses and big granny pants which is always a selling point.

Just me then?

just because....

Andrea Rau, Daughters of Darkness (1971).

virgin spring.

Bizarrely this is a film I'm most familiar with due to the trailer of the classic I Drink Your Blood, the film it was paired with on it's release.

As luck would have it tho' a friend felt the urge to send me a copy so I could finally watch it.

Well I say friend.

I Eat Your Skin (AKA Zombies, Zombie Bloodbath, Voodoo Blood Bath, Caribbean Adventure. 1964 - released 1970).
Dir: Del Tenney.
Cast: William Joyce, Heather Hewitt, Betty Hyatt Linton, Dan Stapleton, Walter Coy, Robert Stanton, Vanoye Aikens, Matt King, Rebecca Oliver and Don Strawn and his Calypso Band.

"Oh boy. Mister Harris, I read some of your books and I only hope you're more original in person!"

Pulp paperback writer and all round misogynist arse Tom Harris (Joyce - as in the actor most famous for The Young Nurses not Nazi-loving Lord Haw-Haw) is busying himself by the pool at the famous Fontainbleu Hotel (in a comedown from featuring in Goldfinger), reciting chunks of his racy romance novels to an eager bunch of bikini-clad, damp panted housewives whilst simultaneously sticking his tongue in a married women.

Which is nice work if you can get it.

If possibly a wee bit dubious in these more enlightened times.

Fuck it let's be honest he comes across downright rapey.

Anyway as his words get more sexual and his fingers get stickier who should arrive but his literary agent and best bud' - the slightly predatory Duncan 'Donuts' Fairchild (one time only actor and producer Stapleton, channeling Glenn Shaddix with a drink in him whilst modeling Mr Ed's teeth) excitedly announcing that he's booked a private plane to taken them - and Duncan's wife Coral (Circus of The Stars choreographer Linton) - to the spookily named Voodoo Island in order to get ideas for a new book.

Given the choice between a weekend of sun, sand and voodoo-fearing virgins or a fucking good kicking off the (scarily old) husband of the woman he's fondling Tom goes for the former and quickly heads off to the airport pursued by the aforementioned husband who, in an 'hilarious' scene boots his still bikini clad wife up the arse.

Before dragging her back to their room and beating her obviously.

Ah violence against women for comedy effect how we miss you so.

"Oi missis....come back to me room so I can bite you!"

As they fly out to the island there's just enough time for Duncan to fill us in (but not in that way) on some important plot points.

It seems that one of his bridge buddies - Lord Chumbley-Warner - has actually just inherited the island and that the inhabitants are ardent practitioners of the black arts (the name probably gave that away tho'), not only that but the island is also home to every imaginable species of poisonous snake, which is why a reclusive scientist, Dr. Biladeau (Stanton in his only role) lives their in an attempt to come up with a cure for mansplaining using their venom.

But obviously not the Tom Hardy Venom on account of it being even shitter than this.

Which takes a lot.

The thing that really peaks Tom's interest tho' is the fact that the whole of the island’s fishing fleet perished in a recent hurricane leaving its population ratio at five to one in favor of women.

And with that he orders the pilot to put his foot down as he carefully checks his cock for blemishes.

Unfortunately Enrico the pilot forgot to fill the petrol tank before they left and the plane is now dangerously low on fuel, the only option left to the travelers is to let Tom drive because as we all know, sexist arses are much better at landing planes than qualified pilots.

Especially Hispanic ones.

I mean he could be an illegal.

Anyway upon making a perfect beach landing, Tom orders everyone to stay put whilst he goes to look for something - anything - to forcibly stick his engorged member into....I mean look for help so sets off into the jungle soon coming across (not in that way, well not yet) the scientists beautiful blonde daughter Jeannie (former Miss Vermont 1957 and  'Miss America' contestant Hewitt) skinny dipping in a pond.

Why am I not surprised?

Oh yes, there's also a machete-wielding zombie with conjunctivitis spying on her from the bushes but let's be honest here we can kinda guess who she's in more danger from.

Eye son.

Tom bravely waves his cock in the air to get her attention and when this fails he jumps in the water to swim after her only to pop up the other side with her gone and the zombie baring down on him so our hero does what any sexual predator would do when faced with another man with his chopper in his hands and legs it into the trees where he soon bumps into one of the islands few surviving fishermen who fills him in on the whole virgin sacrifice/voodoo/zombie shtick before getting beheaded by the eye man.

Which is nice.

Just as the undead fiend is about to stick it in Tom he's scared away by the arrival of the cast of It Ain't Half Hot Mum in a jeep.

No my mistake, it's actually Lord Chumbley-Warner's pal and island governor type bloke Charles 'Wes' Bentley (ex-Star Trek doctor, McCoy) and his merry band of armed guards.

Less Dad's Army, more dead smarmy.

Yes I know that was shit but if the script writer can't be arsed why should i?

Being a stand-up bloke Bentley takes Tom back to the plane before ordering a group of natives to secure it in the carpark and then inviting everyone back to his villa he shares with Dr. Biladeau - but not in that way - for cake and crisps.

And pop.

Getting changed for dinner Tom is surprised to find the blonde he saw earlier playing the piano in the dining room and decides to sneakily watch her play - from a position where he can look down her top obviously - before sleazily approaching her and introducing himself.

There's something to be said about approaching random girls and rubbing yourself against them whilst plying them with booze seeing as Jeannie seems well up for it and giggles flirtily as Tom refills her glass.

Again and again.

Luckily for us her dad turns up and they all sit down for dinner.

Tho' by the look in Tom's eyes chicken isn't the only white meat on the menu.

Hewitt - pig in a blanket.

As is the way with dinner parties the chat soon turns to voodoo (again) and Dr.
Billedeau explains that not only is it true that the islanders all practice witchcraft but they also believe that blonde virgins make the best human sacrifices,  Bentley laughs to himself as he lights another fag whilst Jeannie just sits and gazes into Tom's eyes oblivious to the fact that she's the only blonde virgin in the room.

His head full of booze and feeling a pure steamer coming on Tom invites  Jeannie for a moonlight walk in the woods, where it must be said her screams as he forces himself on/in her will be less likely to be heard, and she heartily agrees.

Unfortunately any hope Tom has of sticking it in the doctor's daughter are ruined when the pair are attacked by a group of paper mache faced zombies who attempt to drag Jeannie off into the jungle.

Luckily there's a handy Tiki torch nearby and knowing it to be a symbol of the mainstream misogynistic man movement Tom uses it to beat off the undead horde.

Unlike the undead beating off you'd find here.

Or indeed here.

Insert cock here.

Returning to the villa,  Jeannie is taken to bed by Coral (look they have to give her something to do other than fawn over Tom behind her hubbies back like your gran over the milkman when she's drunk) whilst Tom and Bentley drink more booze and discuss the evenings events.

As the vodka's flow Bentley begins to realise that the young blonde virgin the tribe want to sacrifice to cure the illness affecting them could in fact be Jeannie so it'd probably be a good idea if they could get her off the island as soon as but Tom has another plan and climbs up the wall to her bedroom in order to have sex with her and therefore save her life.

What a stand up guy.

And before you ask the answer is no, Jeannie doesn't have a say in the matter.

Tho' why would she?

She's just a girl.

"Hello I'm the blind man!"

But even before Tom's cock is dry the local tribe and their mysterious leader are plotting to kidnap Jeannie and stick something all together more dangerous - and far less noxious smelling in her....

Will Tom and his pals save the day?

What is Dr. Biladeau really up to in his secret lab?

Why the fuck is Coral actually there?

And most importantly why does Dan Stapleton have the shapeliest figure in the whole movie?

Seriously when he comes out in his body hugging teeny tiny shorts you'll be stunned at how smooth and long his legs are.

Whilst his craptastic monster romp The Horror of Party Beach was picked up for distribution even before the film was dry director/producer/binman Del Tenney's I Eat Your Skin was left languishing on the shelf for years before being dragged kicking and screaming onto the screens in a double bill with the frankly fantastic Lynn Lowry starrer I Drink Your Blood.

And it's really not difficult to realise why.

Everything about the production screams poverty row - from the am dram shouty non-acting of the cast to the threadbare special effects that consist of zombies with wet tissue paper glued to their faces and an massive island explosion consisting of a paper mache mountain set fire to in a bath via a Caribbean tribe descended from slaves that is made up of 95% white extras and direction that can only be described as leisurely it's a film that defies both logic and sensibility, transcending 'so bad it's good' to become just bad.

Luckily (for it) it's so screamingly misogynistic as to blank everything else but that fact from your mind as you watch it.

Nothing else seems to matter the longer William Joyce is on screen, from his casual arse-slapping to random drink-spiking it's like watching a walking talking ball of horny testosterone filled woman hating rage dominating the screen, seriously as soon as the movie finished I actually went online to check if Joyce had ever been arrested for crimes against women in the years after the movie as so convincing was his utter contempt for ladies.

Either that or he was hiding something.

And probably not a body in a barn.

Fuck or fight? I'm too confused!

On the plus side Lon E. Norman's jazz fused score is a pleasant distraction from the utter pap onscreen which means you can at least close your eyes and try to think of something a wee bit more enjoyable, tho' be warned I tried this but then got scared that William Joyce (or his ghost) would sneak up on me and attempt to fuck me.

He didn't but that's not the point.

Fuck it I need a shower now.

birthday boy!

Happy 40th birthday to Don Coscarelli's Phantasm.

terrorvision.

Been on a wee bit of a Norman J Warren kick of late and realised that I'd never actually reviewed this so here we go.

I do like to set the scene.

Terror (1978).
Dir: Norman J Warren.
Cast: John Nolan, Carolyn Courage, James Aubrey, Sarah Keller, Glynis Barber
Tricia Walsh, Patti Love, William Russell, Mary Maude, Peter Mayhew, Michael Craze, Chuck Julian and Elaine Ives-Cameron.

Have You Ever Felt An Evil Presence All Around You ... ?

Welcome one and all to the olden days (or is it West Bromwich last week?) where a dirty faced - and even dirtier pillowed - woman (Love from The Long Good Friday) is fleeing thru' the forest from an angry mob of torch-bearing peasants who want to burn her (to death) on account of her being a witch.

Which is fair enough I guess tho' to be honest I'd be more than tempted to set fire to her for having a poodle perm but there you go.

Finally brought down by a handy bear trap she's dragged before the local squire Lord Hawhaw Garrick and his wife Angela (Ian Chesterton himself, Russell alongside Crucible of Terror star Maude) who shout something at her before flouncing off to their stately home leaving the egg stained woman at the mercy of the mob.

Luckily for her tho' she is actually a witch and as the local vicar attempts to read the Bible at her she screams something vaguely sinister at him and the entire mob start running around in terror before accidentally setting fire to themselves.

And as if that wasn't enough she spookily materializes at Lord and Lady Garrick's house, cursing all of their descendants before murdering Lord Garrick and dropping his still warm, blood stained corpse on his wife.

"FIONA! Where's mah lunch?"

Don't worry tho' none of this is real as we are in fact watching - alongside the cast, meta much? - the exciting finale of the latest horror epic from independent producer/director/sexy posh man James Garrick (Nolan, uncle of director Christopher and husband of Helga from 'Allo 'Allo), which he's based on the old family legend that, although he doesn't really believe is true reckons might get him a few quid from the horror crowd.

Especially seeing as he's cast his cameraman, Gary's (Craze AKA Doctor Who's Ben Jackson) beautiful actress girlfriend, Carol (Dempsey and Makepiece, Blake's 7 and more importantly Invaders of the Lost Gold legend Barber) in a main role.

At this point I started to get confused.

You see in the movie (with a movie) was William Russell actually playing Lord Garrick or was it William Russell playing an actor playing Lord Garrick?

Because if it were the former then why is another former Who actor pretending to be a cameraman named Gary?

And more bizarrely is the actress playing the witch really a witch or just an actress?

Because (spoilers) she's gonna turn up as a real witch later.

Anyway before I can figure any of this out there's a wee bit of hypnosis to throw into the plot when Gary proposes to entertain everyone attending the screening by putting Carol into a trance and making her eat an onion.

James, being a mean and moody type thinks it's a bit shit and suggests soggy biscuit instead but is outvoted by his fresh-faced editor, Philip (Aubrey, Gavin Sorenson from Bouquet of Barbed Wire) and James' mysterious cousin Anne (Courage from, um, stuff).

Fringe.

Anyway after much amusement with Carol pretending to be a rabbit and stripping to her pants (probably) Anne decides it'd be a weeze if she had a shot, even tho' Gary has explained that it's actually all bollocks and that Carol just likes the attention.

Nevertheless Anne insists and plonks herself on the sofa to await Gary's hypnotic commands.

Bizarrely - and much to everyone's surprise - she actually does end up in a trance and as a by now fairly freaked out Gary tries to wake her Anne slowly rises from her seat and slowly advances toward a handy wall-mounted sword, taking it from it's resting place and trying to stab her cousin with it.

Luckily she only grazes his arm and after a quick slap round the face she comes to alas but too late to rescue the party atmosphere and everyone fucks off home, except Carol that is who decides to have a wander around the grounds before getting stabbed.

To death.

"Knock knock!" "Who's there?" "Kissap" "Kissap who?"

Meanwhile  Anne - who can't remember any of the sword shenanigans -  has just woken up in bed with no memory of how she got there or as to why she's covered in blood.

Which sounds like a normal night out if I'm honest.

Even her chisel-chinned roommate, Suzy (Keller - look her up yourself) hasn't a clue what's going on.

James has an inkling that something might be wrong tho' after coming across (but not in that way) Carol's still warm body stuck to a tree with the sword and begins to wonder if his mysterious cousin may be behind his friends death.

Tho' bizarrely because he actually owns the sword he reckons the police may blame him for the bad murders so reckons the best way to allay their suspicions is to start acting like an utter shite.

Tho' just starting to act may have been a better choice but heyho.

"Where's the soap?" - "It's next to the sink!"

And the first person to be on the receiving end of his brutish behavior?

Only poor porn director Jeff Beck (TV stalwart Peter Craze but not alas Peter Glaze) who has rented James' studio to make the epic Busty Brenda Takes A Bath and who James chucks out on his ear telling him that he's double booked the space to record an episode of 2Gs And The Pop People.

Not arf.

To add a wee bit more meta-confusion to the plot, Brenda is actually the stage name of Anne's pal Viv who not only works as a hostess at the same strip-club but also lodges at the very same boarding house.

As an aside she's played to perfection by the rather wonderful latter-day playwright, actress, singer and sexagenarian sauce pot Tricia Walsh whose hit pop tune Be Careful Dear (written about her divorce from the head of The Shubert Organisation Philip J. Smith) has to be heard to be believed.

Walsh: Sauce pot.

Anyway back to the plot where, a few nights later, a anal sex obsessed regular at the club known to the girls as Phil the Greek (Julian from Scream for Help and your mums bed) is found viciously murdered (to death) the very same night as he was chucked out for sticking his finger up Anne's arse.

Not too surprisingly most of Anne's workmates reckon that she did it and Viv calls the police.

Cue a myriad of mental murders as anyone who crosses Anne's path (or who even walks by in the background) is killed in a variety of ever more gruesome (and sometimes fairly implausible) ways.

From the policeman squashed by his own - possessed - car to poor Jeff Beck is squashed by a studio light and Brenda/Viv is garotted by her own suspender belt.

How will she explain this to her gran?

Is Anne responsible or is their something more sinister - and supernatural - afoot?

And more importantly in the cold light of day will any of it actually make any sense?

Pants.

From the unsung genius behind Inseminoid and Prey, the fantastic Norman J Warren comes this (very) British, shot on a shoestring (tho' not Eddie) take on Suspiria albeit one that replaces the originals exotic and alluring cast with tubby cockneys and it's dance school shenanigans with a crop-haired stripper with nipples like bullets (Yes I'm looking at you Tanya Ferova*) fellating a whip to a cheesy sub-Kenny Lynch disco track as pot-bellied punters rub their thighs menacingly.

Which is fair enough I guess.

The cast are great, playing it just right - never too campy and just serious enough to make it believable whilst Carolyn Courage is a perfect quivering lipped heroine/victim who shows vulnerability and spooky in equal measure despite having what looks like a Lego wig on her head.

Talking of wigs tho' the entire film is almost stolen by the frankly fantastic Elaine Ives-Cameron as ex-actress Delores Hamilton, owner of the lodging house in which the girls reside.

Coming across like a Benefits Street Fenella Fielding I swear I could taste the gin fumes thru' the screen, honestly their aren't enough performances like this in horror.

Writers take note. 

Breaking Glass? - More like touching cloth.

  

As much as all this is nice tho', let's be serious for a minute because when it comes down to it Terror is really nowt more than an excuse to show a series of ever more violent murder set pieces loosely-connected by a paper-thin plot involving witches, revenge and the troubles besetting low budget porn directors which covers it's multitude of cinema sins by offering copious amounts of furtive nudity and gore (plus top 70s fashions) in place of anything resembling a coherent plot.

And I for one salute it.

Plus it's really short which is always good.
 

And if that hasn't convinced you then the bit where a second hand Rover P6 floats about in a park for no reason during a thunderstorm might.

Still not sure?

Well - slight spoilers here - Poor Gary is killed when boxes of damaged prints of Saturday Night Fever fly off the shelves and cause a bathtub to ignite.

Now tell me another film that features something as terrifying as this.

Genius.

*And if you like her performance here then feel free to check out Derek Ford's The Sexplorer (AKA The Girl From Starship Venus) the heartwarming tale of a  A young Venusian girl (obviously) who comes to Earth in order to research 'the sex'.

It's basically Under The Skin but with (slightly) better teeth and bigger collars, oh and before you ask Tanya Ferova does indeed play a stripper.

But stick to what you're good at that's my motto.