frigid bitchin'.

Almost caught up with the whole 31 Days of Horror thing (I'm not even going to attempt it next year - partly because it's way too much hard work but mainly because no one cares) and after an entire weekend freezing my arse off it the sub zero temperatures of The Classic Grande in Glasgow (which bizarrely enough we're told isn't allowed to have heating because it's a listed building) this film seemed scarily appropriate.

Ice Queen (2005).
Dir: Neil Kinsella.
Cast: Ami Veevers-Chorlton, Harmon Walsh, Noelle Reno, Jennifer Hill, Daniel Hall Kuhn Tara Walden, Peter Wyndorf and Demone Gore.

"What she wants is a wet me-shirt contest!"

Somewhere in the directors local garden centre, sorry I mean the Amazon rain forest a group of very tall boy scouts (you can tell by the shorts) have made the archeological find of the century.

A totally naked blonde, dating from the ice age (the proper ice age not the film series) encased in a huge block of amber.

Realizing that this is a fairly unusual thing to find our learned pals quickly load her body onto a handy aeroplane to be flown to a military facility where she can be 'studied' by scientists at their leisure.

Which is nice work if you can get it.

Meanwhile at Scabies Ski Resort, lanky local loser Johnny (As The World Turns Doctor Bullock himself, the chisel chinned Walsh) alongside his pals Jessie Ethic (Gore, best known for his role as 'Vegas Ballroom Worker' in, yup, As The World Turns) and his instantly forgettable other pal (look he was wearing a woolie hat so it could be anyone but it's most likely Jason Mewes trying to get enough cash to score) are busy enjoying the resort bars weekly Ms. Wet T-shirt/let's dance like a tit competition.

"Smell my fingers!"

The boys night of good old fashioned drunken fun is turned on it's head tho' when Johnny is confronted by Elaine (Hill) and her unfeasibly large silicon tits (playing themselves).

Hypnotized or terrified (I couldn't tell) Johnny goes from gently prodding them to full on nipple sucking action in a handy jacuzzi, totally forgetting about his long term girlfriend Tori (the rabbit-like Reno from the straight to the charity shop hit Devour) and even loaning their rent money to Elaine.

What a bastard/hero (delete as applicable).

Next morning and Johnny's life seems to be going from bad to worse; not only is Tori chasing him for the rent but Elaine has turned up for an interview at the lodge and his boss, the man-eating MiLF Audrey (funny lady Walden) is determined to see him fired after he told everyone that she was a lesbian.

Phew, I don't know about you but I'm shattered now.

"Snow on mah mount!"

Luckily tho' before Johnny’s life completely mutates into an episode of the Jeremy Kyle show, the plane carrying the frozen lady is hijacked by terrorists and accidentally crashed into the mountain overlooking the resort causing an - incredibly shite CGI - avalanche and trapping all six members of the cast inside the hotel under a tonne of snow that could quite possibly collapse on them at any moment

Chance would be a fine thing.

Kyle: Arrogant prick.

And if this wasn't enough danger for one movie (especially one trying to do giant natural disasters on what looks like The Power Rangers tea budget) it appears that our frozen femme has all thawed out and is hungry for love.

And intestines obviously.

Which probably wouldn't be too much of a problem if she (alongside a faintly ridiculously fake bearded scientist not so much played as planked by the charisma black hole that is Daniel Hall Kuhn) wasn't also trapped in the ski lodge too.

Daniel Hall Kuhn: Insert cock here.

With everything that's happening it comes as a wee surprise that for no other reason that the actresses seem up for it, Elaine and Tori decide to have a girlie cat fight over who's the better shag.

It's like arguing over which you'd rather have; syphilis or crabs. 

Whilst this fake snow squashing, thigh revealing, nipple poking fight continues ad nauseum, the Ice Queen is wandering around the patently hardboard topsy turvy sets randomly killing the few remaining cast members by sticking her hand into their tummies and freezing them from the inside.

"She put WHAT in your mooth?"

With alcoholic Uncle Ed and Patch the dog searching the grounds for survivors it's left to Johnny, armed with only a hand dryer, a hot tub, some sexy pants and his rampant libido to kill the she-beast.

But let's be honest here, does anyone really give a fuck?

Your mum's cum face.

What a bloody dogs dinner of a movie this is, Neil Kinsella seems to be confused as to whether he's making a monster movie, Porky's style frat 'house' comedy or metaphysical exploration of the human condition and frankly after viewing it I’m not so sure either.

From the moment it's start the movie darts between breasts, explosions and soft core sex before settling into a threadbare disaster scenario with the added bonus of a buck-toothed beast babe trying her best to either kill folk or fuck them.

And it's the aforementioned she beast that's the film's trump card in the shapely shape of the frankly wonderful ex-farm girl cum model cum actress Ami Veevers-Chorlton.

Dressed in an old Quick Fit boiler suit, Jimmy Savile's old spunk stained wig and wearing a set of wooden teeth Chorlton's portrayal of the Ice Queen is like nothing I've ever seen before, tottering around on heels and wiggling her arse like a middle aged secretary who's had one too many gin's at the office Christmas party whilst licking her bright blue Joker lips and tonging the air, everything about her performance is fantastic.

And utterly convincing.

She should get her own chat show, it'd be a ratings winner.

Cheryl Cole-The pikey years.

Her greatest scenes tho' are towards the films climax when our horny horror takes an instant liking to Johnny and sets about trying to seduce him.

Honestly Chorlton should have been Oscar nominated for this.

As it goes we were all robbed.

Her for the best actress award and me for spending a quid on this.

Tomorrow.....something better.

Probably.

feastenders.

Was in the charity shop yesterday and found this in a bucket by the door for a quid....already own it on VHS but thought what the hell and bought it anyway.

Partly because due to the VHS player being in the bottom of a cupboard I've not been able to watch it for years but mainly because I needed change for the bus.

You can tell how much effort I'm putting into 31 Days of Horror can't you?

Cannibal Apocalypse (AKA Apocalypse Domani, Invasion of The Flesh Hunters, The Cannibals Are In The Streets, Cannibals In The City. 1980).
Directed by Antonio Margheriti.
Starring John Saxon, Elizabeth Turner, Giovanni Lombardo Radice, May Heatherly, Tony King, Wallace Wilkinson, Cinzia De Carolis and Ramiro Oliveros.

"Charlie can you hear me?" "I can hear you. Shitface" 

Welcome to Vietnam (OK it's really the local nature reserve at the bottom of Antonio Margheriti's street), where war is Hell and shooting permits are cheap but more importantly where the evil Viet Cong force captured American soldiers to sit in puddles of dirty water and poke them with sticks until they turn into cannibals.

Or something.

Stumbling into this jungle madness is the heroically hatted figure of Norman Hopper (Saint John of Saxon), who has been given the task of rescuing his fallen (and now soaked to the skin and slightly damp smelling) comrades.

After an obligatory fire-fight our hero manages to free the prisoners only to to bitten on the arse - sorry, arm, by the googly eyed madman and famed author Charlie Bukowski (Italy's favourite whipping boy, Giovanni Lombardo Radice credited here as John Morghen), who, unknown to Hopper has turned into one of those aforementioned cannibals.

And all that's within the first five minutes.

Inside Gary Glitters mind.

Attempting to adjust back to civilian life Hopper is plagued by nightmares regarding his 'Nam man munching, waking every night in a cold sweat and suffering from an uncontrollable fear of bearded blokes in Ford Capris whilst his flaxen haired and smooth of skinned wife Jane (Turner from Fulci's The Psychic and the possession panto Beyond The Door) can only sit with her head held slightly askew in a concerned manner offering her man hugs and biscuits inbetween sly flashes of her milky cleavage.

Which is nice. 

John Saxon realizes in horror that the script requires him to perform oral sex on a bubble-permed hamster.

As it happens Hopper receives a phone call from Bukowski the very next day, it seems that he's just been released from psychiatric care and fancies catching up with his old wartime buddy over a glass of J&B or six.

Hopper, trying to forget the whole Vietnam thing declines the offer, preferring to spend the day flying kites with his son before finally giving in to the advances of his hamster-cheeked, big barnetted, barely legal neighbour Mary (De Carolis who once released the hit single Perché sei mia madre, fact fans).

But don't worry about Hoppers honour tho'....from the amount of chins she has it's more Pie-dophilia than pedophilia.

Never more so than when our hero comes face to, um fanny with her springy bush, straining as it is to escape over the top of her tiny white panties.

Overcome with grief at what has happened to his career the poor sod ends up biting her.

I mean if the saying 'you are what you eat' is true then John Saxon's going to spend the rest of the film looking like a right fanny.

Or a poodle/pound shop Barbie hybrid.

Luckily Mary's aunt calls her home before Hopper can start on dessert saving  him (and us) from what could have been the single most disturbing scene in cinema history.

Hammy the hamster, up the casino, Brighton, 1978....Yesch!

A rejected and forlorn Charlie, still reeling from being knocked back for a fat lass decides to spend his afternoon in the local 'art' cinema, taking in a few subtitled movies and, if lucky getting a wee gobble off a crack fueled whore during the Butterkiss ads.

Ah memories of being a teen and visiting the Plaza cinema Dudley in the 80s.

Alls going swimmingly until halfway thru' Jacques Rivette's classic Jane Birkin starrer Around a Small Mountain when Charlie notices the couple in front of him having a bit of 'the sex'.

The sight of Birkin back on the big screen coupled with the overpowering aroma of yeast is too much for our Charlie who, after a bit of thigh rubbing leans forward and bites the woman on the neck.

This small social faux pas on Charlie's part soon escalates into a full blown riot with the poor guy accidentally knocks over a motorbike on his way out and getting chased by a gang of Hells Angels before finally getting trapped in the middle of a shoot-out in the kids section of Marks and Spencer with the whole thing being shown live on the news.

Which if I'm honest is a pretty normal day in Glasgow.

Luckily Hopper just happens to watching and - in tribute to Paul Gascoigne grabs a can of lager, some chicken and a mobile phone and quickly heads down to the shops in order to help out his old buddy.

Shite in mah mooth!

Tempting Charlie out of hiding with the promise of a Kinder egg, Hopper is soon accompanying his friend to the hospital where they come across fellow vet and long-pig fan Tom Thompson (King from Shaft) who, alongside Charlie has the sudden urge to bite both the police and nursing staff before getting bundled into a cupboard and locked up.

Hopper's embarrassment and worry about what he's going to tell his wife is soon put into perspective when everyone who's been bitten or scratched by either Tom or Charlie start rampaging around possessed by a crazed hunger for human flesh.

Luckily Helen (Heatherly from the classic Pieces), the fairly hot nurse who gotten nibbled earlier is actually fairly sympathetic to our heroes plight and sets the former soldiers free to escape into the sewers.

Hopper feeling partly responsible for his men decides to follow.

Cinzia De Carolis: There's a snake in her boots...possibly.

Back at the Hopper house, Jane is having a wee bit of trouble using the telephone - the receiver keeps slipping thru' her sausage fingers - so she heads over to whorish Mary's house to use hers.

And her telephone if she's lucky.

Greeted at the door by an even more freakish than normal Mary and her spooky brother Radcliffe, the kids are more than happy to help, apologizing for the lingering smell of dead old lady in the house and explaining that their aunt has had to leave suddenly.

Hmmm....suspicious much?

 John Saxon mulls over his career choices to date.

Anyways, back in the stinky sewer our heroes hope of escape is dashed when Helen gets bitten on the bum by a rat, her screams leading the police straight to the cannibal chums who then politely shoot her in the face.

Mad with rage, shame and hunger Charlie goes mental only to get his stomach machine gunned out whilst Tom, annoyed at seeing his pals and the most attractive woman on screen get slaughtered in front of him attacks the police before getting torched with a handy flamethrower.

Ouch.

Only Hopper survives - just about - and then only after being shot in the leg destroying his chances of ever entering Strictly Come Dancing.

Or Tess Daly.

Tess Daly: Cut up like a pig in a market.

Crawling out of the sewer he steals a car and heads home for a tearful wank and a sweet n' sour Pot Noodle.

Meanwhile with her phone needs sated, Jane  decides to head back home for an afternoon of gin, chocolate and Price Drop TV but as she settles into her favourite chair she hears a strange scraping noise from the spare room.

Slowly opening the door she finds her husband, decked out in his smartly ironed - yet slightly bloody - dress uniform.

Saucy.

Begging his wife to stay away Jane informs him that she's gotten in touch with their friend and family physician Dr. Phil Mendez (Oliveros) and even as they speak he's racing over to help.

Which would be all well and good if he too wasn't infected.

With barmy bloodlust on both sides and a sweaty handed housewife trapped in between the outlook for a happy ending looks grim.

And that's without mentioning the crazed cannibal kids across the road....

"Is that a gun in your hand or just a strange shaped erection?"

With the enigmatically - oh go on lazily - unexplained cannibal virus becoming shorthand for the effects of the Vietnam war on the American psyche and the repercussions of said war on the general populace,  Arena hero Antonio Margheriti's foray into the mind of a post war USA and the effects of a repressive society  still haunted by their unspeakable acts is as relevant today (if not more so) in this post 9-11 world as it was on release.

Each character has a lust or urge that society deems must be controlled, from Hopper's lust for his teen neighbour to Charlie's violent breast obsession via Jane's romantic feelings toward Mendez, they are all fighting against their base primal instincts.

And when these instincts take over what better form to represent them than cannibalism?

And who says Japanese cinema design isn't subtle?

Or is it just a low budget horror movie featuring blood, guts gore and some jailbait T&A given a cheap and cheerful Vietnam opening because Apocalypse Now had just been released?

If you check out the directors other projects I think the question answers itself.

Cast wise the movie is blessed by stand-out performances by the always watchable John Saxon, aided and abetted by the brooding king of cinematic bad luck, the incredible Giovanni Lombardo Radice, a man that  made his mark playing nasty lowlifes who meet vicious ends in a handful of 80s Italian splatter flicks and who, remarkably isn't a fan of the genre, his main love being opera (a world in which he's renowned as a director).

Strange but true.

Saxon, in one of his many 'it's a shame for me' outbursts has all but disowned the movie, saying how he was drugged/tricked/blackmailed into making it.

To that all I can say is Blood Beach.

 

I could go on for pages trying to persuade you how great a movie this is and how it defies genre pigeon holing but the bottom line is that:

A. I really can't be bothered.

and

B: Let's be honest here, any Vietnam war movie featuring such quality actors giving it their all, cannibals, war is hell flashbacks and dumpy seductresses in tiny pants has to be at least twice as entertaining as one that doesn't.

Grab this, some beer and a copy of L’Ultimo cacciatore and your Saturday night will be complete.

snatch.

Day 16 of the glorious misadventure that is 31 Days of Horror and we've hit the good stuff.

This film is a bit of a lucky charm for this blog seeing as the first time I ever wrote about it the movies star actually left a comment.

This as you can imagine was a wee bit of a surprise.

Partly because it wasn't a threat of legal action but mainly because it meant someone had actually read it.

Who knows what may happen this time?

Lady Terminator (AKA Pembalasan ratu pantai selatan, Nasty Hunter, The Revenge of the South Seas Queen. 1988).
Dir: Jalil Jackson (AKA H. Tjut Djalil).
Cast: Barbara Anne Constable, Claudia Angelique Rademaker, Christopher J. Hart and dozens of people that the director possibly found in the street.

"I'm not a lady, I'm an anthropologist!"

Somewhere in the exotic south seas, the big of hips and high of hair evil queen of those very waters is kicking back in her cardboard castle, lounging around in a tasteful see-thru nightie and market stall mules, her armpit hair tastefully swaying in the breeze.

Understandably shattered after spending the evening murdering a variety of Burt Reynolds a-likes with her frighteningly poisonous - and serpent filled - vagina, her attempts to catch up with the latest gossip in Heat magazine is rudely cut short when a donkey cocked yet disturbingly scrawny bloke climbs in thru the window.

Wearing his granddad's pants.

Licking his thin sweaty lips he launches himself at (and onto) the queen for a wee bit of the old in and out.

The first of many such hellish moments of uncomfortable intercourse during this film I must add.

Indeed if you're of a weak or nervous disposition turn away now.

What your dad really gets up to on his work trips.

Whilst keeping the Queen occupied with some smooth armpit licking our hero manages to reach up into her fearsome fanny and pull out a huge snake which he then turns into a sword.

No, really.

Shocked (wouldn't you be?) by this turn of events, the Queen angrily orders him to change it back and pop it back up.

Oh and if he doesn't mind can he try and find her car keys whilst he's at it.

Determined to put an end to her fanny-based killings he throws the sword away whilst Queenie, in a perfect example of post sex pouting flounces off out of the window promising that: "In 100 years I will have my revenge on your Great Granddaughter" before promptly disappearing into the sea.

Aye hen.

Don't worry tho', the film isn't actually that short because what we've just witnessed is a 'prologue' that will lead - via some snazzy Letraset titles - to 'the modern day' (well, the mid 80s at least) where the bubble permed and bullet nippled student of things Tania (the frankly fantastic Constable) is spending her vacation scuba diving of the south seas coast.

Bizarrely it seems that her thesis is all about the legend of the Queen's infamous killer vagina and she's determined to find some evidence that it really did exist at any cost.

But - and isn't this always the way? - Tania at one point mistakes scuba-diving for getting tied to a cheap hotel bed clad only in a pair of huge pants meaning that before you know it the Queens snake has re-appeared and made its new home in the poor girls (lusciously maintained) lady garden, meaning our sexy student has transformed into an arse kicking, cock crushing unstoppable vixen of vengeance.

Ladies and gentlemen we present the Lady Terminator!

Or the Nasty Hunter to give Tania her alternative title.

Beware the Perminator.....Peow!

And her mission?
Why, to do bad stuff to that bloke from earliers Great Granddaughter, an up and coming popular music singer named Erica (the hamster cheeked Rademaker from, um, not much else) of course.

Cue copious amounts of man-based beatings and violence as or arse-kicking anti-heroine prowls the streets looking for revenge.

And some shiny lipgloss.

Back in the city - and the plot - the local police are at a loss to explain the huge amounts of half naked, bullet riddled and crush cocked corpses that have suddenly begun to litter the cities streets and cheaper hotel rooms, which is the perfect case for the manly Max (Hart, possibly the same one that's now a close-up magician but who really knows?), aided and abetted by his mulleted Israeli man-friend Snake.

Tania farted...and it smelled of shame.
Oh, and Brexit.

And so begins a race against time - and fashion - to prevent the bewitched Tania from extracting the Queens revenge.

Will Max and Snake succeed?

Or at least have a drunken fumble in the back of a car?

And will there be a failed attempt on Erica's life in a brutal (I say brutal but I meant to type cheap) attack in a discotheque followed by a mid-point fire fight in a police station Ala The Terminator?

You'll have to watch it to find out.

Ooh, I'm such a tease.

Thanks to a lucky economic boom in the late seventies (and an influx of cheap cameras and even cheaper foreign workers) coupled with a relaxation of it's up till now archaic and almost British censorship laws, Indonesia's fledgling film industry exploded in a multi-coloured garishly gory lo-fi exploitation movies that bizarrely mixed current Hollywood fads alongside themes and ideas unique to Indonesian culture creating some of the strangest (and in some cases dodgiest) movies ever to grace the big screen.

And the strangest of all must be Lady Terminator.

Not really stealing from the James Cameron hit The Terminator, more like breaking into its house and tying it spreadeagled to a table before sticking a toothbrush up its arse, H. Tjut Djalil's magnum opus cheekily lifts entire scenes, complete pages of dialogue and even certain camera angles from the Arnie blockbuster yet despite the almost non existent budget, manages to improve on the original by adding liberal doses of sex, nudity (and even some sexy nudity) to the mix creating a psychedelically charge psychotronic melting pot of pure grade A cinematic cheese.

And by God am I grateful to him for that.

Blood, breasts and bubble perms....what's not to love?

But the movies biggest asset (in more ways than one**) must be the presence of the statuesque Barbara Anne Constable, an actress whose range can go from frumpy bespectacled student to leather clad killing machine via a skimpy bikini and big pants without once batting an eyelid or breaking a sweat.

It's a crime against cinema - and teenage crushes - that she never made another movie.

We must hunt her down now and persuade her to returning to acting.

If not in films then at the very least we can all chip in a quid each, hire a camera and an old warehouse and get her to act out all of our leatherette, automatic weapon filled fantasies.

I mean how could she refuse?

Honestly if this isn't in your collection you should be ashamed of yourself.






And after all that you still need a reason to view this masterpiece then maybe, just maybe the fact that the credits feature this vaguely amusing caption may finally persuade you...

*prologue
1. A separate introductory section of a literary, dramatic, or musical work.
"the suppressed prologue to Women in Love"

"the prologue to his book on the harrowing contemporary history of West Bromwich"

2. An event or act that leads to another.
"the events from 1945 to 1956 provided the prologue to the post-imperial era"
Or
(in professional cycling) a short preliminary time trial held before a race to establish a leader.

"I got third in the prologue and eighth on the hardest stage"

You're welcome.




































**And in case you were wondering, the phrase 'in more ways than one' refers to the already mentioned fact that she was lead make-up artist on the film and is in no way a cheap reference to her stunning breasts.

Thank you.

screen burn.

It's another day in the slow motion car crash that is 31 Days of Horror and we're trading scares for 'the sex' as we grab our old VHS player and insert....

Sx_Tape (2014).
Dir: Bernard Rose.
Cast: Caitlyn Folley, Ian Duncan, Chris Coy and Diana Garcia, Julie Marcus, Daniel Faraldo but alas not Jason Segal or Cameron Diaz.

Robby: Who has sex for three hours?
Jay: We did!
Robby: That's the length of the movie "Lincoln". You did the full Lincoln.
Ooops....wrong tape...

The annoyingly nasal and scarily pube bearded Adam (Ian Duncan but not Smith unfortunately) bored with constantly making dodgy sex videos with his girlfriend - the free-spirited (meaning she gets her kit off at the drop of a hat) and spookily milky arsed Jill (Folley, a kinda Lidl Lily Rabe) decides instead to make a documentary about her life and work as an artist.

In between filming them having sex obviously.

After what seems like an eternity of watching the happy hippy couple gazing lovingly at each other, shoplifting sunglasses and Jill baring her arse to passersby from her kitchen window, Adam decides that what the movie (both his and the one we're being forced to endure) needs is a fantastic location full of fear and spookiness.

Unfortunately the budget doesn't stretch to anything remotely like that (I mean they can't even afford a halfway decent fitting bra for Jill, every time she walks past it's like she has two frisky puppies fighting under her shirt) so Adam drives Jill out to the recently abandoned Vergerus Institute for Troubled Women.

The hospital obviously named by a fan of director Ingmar Bergman, has a long history abuse, abortions and lecherous lobotomy lovers making it the perfect place, according to Adam for Jill to throw a party to celebrate her artistic skills.

Or get possessed by a vengeful spirit and kill folk.

Whichever's more convenient for the plot.

Salt and vinegar.

Dodging security guards as they venture further into the hospital, it's only a matter of time (if not taste) before Adam talks Jill into letting him tie her down to an operating table under the pretense of having some of the kinky sex.

Unfortunately for Jill (but not us because it means we aren't going to have to look at her arse again) Adam has no intention of putting it in her in a violent manner usually reserved for dogs and your dad when drunk, preferring to run away in an attempt to convince Jill that he's fucking off home and leaving her there for the night.

  Smoky bacon.

The rest of the film consists of hour upon hour of hilarious camera footage as Jill tries to scratch her nose and tries not to pee herself etc. before Adam returns the next day and frees her.

After an initial bout of grumpiness, laughs and swearing ensue all round as the couple imagine how they'll spend the £250 they'll get from You've Been Framed.

The end.

If only.

Nope, what actually happens is that within seconds of him wandering off a female ghost appears and possesses Jill causing her first to agree to a wee bout of bondage bed sex with Adam and secondly - yet much more erotically if I'm honest, to have a severe nose bleed in a kinda League of Gentlemen way.

Bloody Hell the Babadook isn't going to turn up too is he?

Quavers.

Realizing that nose bleeds, arses and mild bondage do not a horror movie make our dense duo decide to go home only to find that their car has been towed leaving Jill no choice but to call her even more annoying (if that were possible) pals Ellie (Garcia best known as Ximena from the fantastic TV show Kdabra...No me neither) and her infinitely punchable 'art terrorist' boyfriend, the buck-toothed Bobby (Hostel III's Coy) for a lift home.

It'll come as no surprise when I tell you that they don't actually head home for more mutual ego masturbation but head back into the hospital under the pretence that Bobby can 'tag' the place whilst waving a pistol around in a gangsta manner.

Yup, he's a gun totin' graffiti artist.

Or as we call them around here a massive bellend.

Watch out watch out Bobby's about.

With his gun in one hand and his cock in the other Bobby manages the near impossible task of making the other characters seem likeable as he swaggers around attempting to mount Jill like a desperate, drowning man at any opportunity which, if nothing else annoys Adam enough to forced him to stomp off in a sulk closely followed by the vacuum sucking non-entity that is Ellie.

This of course gives Jill and Bobby ample time to saunter off to possibly have sex/get murdered by an evil ghost.

Or both.

Frankly I don't care.

Prawn cocktail.

After a while Ellie, bored with having to look at Adams beard and after sucking all the joy from the room persuades him to stand in a corner whilst she goes off to find the others, leaving the hairy one to mutter to himself until that is his narcissistic natterings are interrupted by a volley of screams and gunfire.

Adam goes to investigate, eventually finding an hysterical (but not in that way) Jill covered in blood and semen and surround by spent bullet casings.

Hmmm.

Jill mutters something about having Bobby trying to put it in her lady garden and Ellie being upset before wandering off to the hospital's medical record archive, where she almost immediately picks up the file belonging to Toni Colette (played by Grand Theft Auto V's Marcus), a violently suicidal schizophrenic patient ultimately lobotomized for being too mad.

Oh yeah and for appearing in the United States of Tara TV series.

Probably.

Monster munch.

If that wasn't enough tho' it seems that poor Colette was actually lobotomized on the very bed that Jill was strapped to earlier.

What are the chances eh?

And could this mean that Colette has in fact possessed Jill?

Our jumpy duo have no time to ponder such mysteries as Jill is soon running down the corridors shouting abuse at Adam whilst he points the camera at various bits of the room hoping to see the ghostly girl that keeps appearing  at random intervals framed by a hazy glow of mid-80's Top of The Pops visual trickery.

Which everyone knows means a fantastically scary climax must be fast approaching.

After much, well a bit of searching Adam comes across Jill (but not in that way tho' I've no idea why seeing as everyone else has) hiding in an office clutching a video tape which he tries to take it from her.

Being a big wuss tho' he only manages a couple of half arsed grabs before she pushes him out of the way and disappears again.

It's becoming less Blair Witch more Chariots of Fire the amount of running in this movie, I'm knackered just writing about it.

Tho' that might have to do with the copious times I've had to get up and wander around the room for fear of beating myself to death due to the effects of watching such a turgid movie.

Spicy nik naks.

As luck - and plot convenience would have it - the hospitals security system is still working, allowing Adam to trace his gaga girlfriend via the miracle of CCTV and to also, thanks to good old fashioned video technology rewind the tape and find out what actually happened between Jill, Ellie and the Bobster.

Oh you'd forgotten about them too?

Well it seems that Bobby and Jill did in fact have 'the sex' but were interrupted by Ellie who like anyone in that situation decided to join in.

Which was all well and good (if a wee bit blurry) until Jill decides to spoil everyone's fun by shooting the pair in their respective faces.

Don't you hate it when that happens?

Doritos.

Needing to pee (or crack one off, take your pick) after such a shocking revelation Adam heads to the nearest bathroom only to find Jill sitting silently in the cubicle still clutching the video tape.

Covered in blood, sweat, egg and shame and stinking like a pikeys vest, Jill scarily demands that Adam allows her to give him a blow job before changing her mind and shooting him in the head.

And the contents of the video tape?

It seems that the black hearted (and bearded) head of the hospital Dr. Simeone had filmed himself fiddling with an anesthetized Colette before performing her lobotomy.

And possibly after.

The end.

The phrase 'another day, another found footage movie' seems to have been playing on a constant loop for the last 10 years, i mean for Bods sake is no-one making anything else?

And no, 80s set nostalgia flicks don't count.

And when you come across one directed by Brit flick stalwart Bernard 'Mary' Rose you can at least expect it to look nice can't you?

I mean come on, this is the guy that gave us Candyman and Snuff Movie.

Hmmm.....I didn't really think that thru' did I?

"Is it in yet?"

Apart from the sex tape angle there's nothing here we haven't seen a hundred (OK a hundred and six) times before and even then the quite cool idea of haunted semen based shenanigans is completely discarded on the title alone as first (only hopefully) time writer Eric Reese blows it all by concentrating on a spooky abandoned building instead.

Maybe it's uniqueness blinded me.

Or more likely the overall averageness of the proceedings has numbed me to a point where I can't type for fear of bringing the whole depressing mess back before my eyes.

No plot, no point, no mercy.

Tomorrow something good.

If my computer is working, obviously.

maiden taiwan.

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

And guess what?

Yup, it's gotten loose.

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

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

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

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

Crikey, talk about starting with a drama.

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

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

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

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

Don't you hate it when that happens?

Watch out watch out Nancy Lam's about!

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

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

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

Or the seats covered in spunk.

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

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

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

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

Groovy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How your girlfriend really got that promotion.

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

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

Saying that tho' he is bloody good at it.

Just imagine skiing  down those.

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

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

Some of these questions may be answered.

Only some mind.

Thought it best to warn you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that's not necessarily needed.

Inside Jeremy Forrest's mind.

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

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

A wee bit like real life then.

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

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

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

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

Or your Mums.

water sports for all.

Bloody 'ell it's been an exciting few days over at Arena Towers, you see my computer hard drive died on Wednesday eve meaning I've not been able to update this whole 31 Days of Horror thing properly.


Not that anyone else would notice obviously.

Oh yes, and it's also meant that I've lost my entire work reference library and my complete portfolio.

Which is nice.

Anyway with that in mind here's a fairly short review for you now seeing as it's late here and I'm on the verge of a breakdown blogging from my phone and fighting off a huge Autie meltdown.

It never rains.



The Girls Rebel Force of Competitive Swimmers (AKA: Joshikyôei hanrangu, Nihombie 2, Nihonbi 2, Undead Pool, Inglorious Zombie Hunters. 2006)
Dir: Kôji Kawano.
Cast: Mizuka Arai (AKA Chieri Haruyama), Sasa Handa, Yuria Hidaka, Hiromitsu Kiba, Ayumu Tokitô and Hidetomo Nishida (There are many more folk too but I just can't be arsed listing them).

Aki (Handa, the button nosed 'star' of a number of Juicy Honey collectable card sets - well it's a living I guess) a former 'aqua terrorist' (Wait....what? You mean they go around committing atrocities to the strains of Barbie Girl?) has decided to turn over a new leaf and give up her exciting international jetset life of crime to enjoy a normal, everyday one as a schoolgirl at a top Japanese school.

Unfortunately Aki's first day is anything but normal.

Well I'm assuming it's not normal but seeing as I went to a comprehensive in the midlands and not one in downtown Tokyo I can only guess.

You see not only do her new classmates decide that her welcome party should involve our cutie honey heroine being pushed into the swimming pool whilst still fully clothed (teasing bastards) but just as she's climbed out and dried off there's a sudden and inexplicable outbreak of a particularly virulent virus on campus that makes all those infected start to spew strawberry sauce from every orifice and begin to smell like a zoo.

OK the last bit seemed pretty normal as far as my school days went.

"Has anybody got any cans of orange juice?"

Anyway with one of those strange quirks of fate - and convenient scripting -  that only ever happen in 'the movies' an emergency medical team, consisting of a scarily familiar, to Aki at least, doctor and stern yet shapely thighed nurse, suddenly appear from nowhere to assist the pupils and administer a vaccine.

Which would be good thing really if it didn't appear to make everyone's symptoms oh so slightly worse.

And by slightly worse I mean that the vaccine turns everyone into scabby, short skirted flesh eating zombies.

Luckily it doesn't give them 'The Autism' tho'.

Yeah fuck you Andrew Wakefield.*

As luck (and pervy plotting) would have it, Aki soon discovers that the chlorine in the school swimming pool counteracts the effects of the virus, meaning that as long as adorable Aki remains in her tight fitting swimsuit (and stays soaking wet obviously) she's safe from infection.

Sounds legit.

Doing what anyone would do in this situation, Aki persuades the (mostly attractive) school swim team to suit up and hose down ready for battle against not only the every increasing army of the undead but also her musically minded former boss and mentor who has cunningly disguised himself (well, he's wearing a lab coat) as the 'friendly' doctor helping the infected.

You see, it turns out that the virus is all his doing but this is only part of his sick scheme.

A sick scheme that also involves touching the smooth and milky white secret lady gardens of as many young girls as possible.

Whilst playing a flute.

You know, this is actually becoming more and more like my school days by the minute.

"Fiona! Where's mah lunch?"

Rushing headlong into battle against the evil doctor, Aki and her soggy sisters - surprisingly - get a damn good beating, leaving our heroine lying vacant eyed in a pool of blood ready to be munched on by any passing zombie.

Fear not tho' dear readers, as luckily she's rescued by her shy (well up till this point) new best friend Sayaka (former Bukkake star Yuria Hidaka) and, in an act of kidness that will bring tears to viewers everywhere, nursed back to health with a mixture of noodle soup and having her breasts gently rubbed by her pal.

How sweet is that?

No need.

Scoff all you want at this fairly unrealistic and decidedly non-medical approach to healing because it seems to do the trick as in no time at all Aki is sitting up in bed and sharing her sad tale of life as a killer for hire whilst fastening the buttons on her flimsy white school shirt, the material straining to contain her honey dew breasts**.

Probably.

What follows is quite possibly the greatest fusion of dodgily translated subtitles, inappropriate incidental music and meaningful flashback sequences ever committed to celluloid, featuring as it does slo-mo shots of Aki firing a machine gun whilst wearing a bikini, popping a butterfly knife into her pants, doing sweaty push ups with what looks like an orange in her mouth and sitting around topless looking bored.

Sheer genius.




Or totally unnecessary pseudo-pornographic pants. 


I honestly don't know.

"I've found the cars keys!"

The whole sorry tale is too much for the sensitive Sayaka who, with tears in her eyes reacts the only way she can.

And that's by stripping herself and Aki naked save their tiny pleated kilts before indulging in a totally realistic and completely essential to the plot lesbian sexy scene whilst moaning loudly.

And biting her lip at the point of - badly faked - orgasm obviously.

"All this fiddling and I still can't find 6 Music!"

Ready for battle (and probably another lie down) Aki is set to face her nemesis one final time.

Will she emerge triumphant?

And, most importantly will she be naked?

Kôji Kawano, director of the classic teen lesbian drama Love My Life and the soya-based shocker Cruel Restaurant appears to have knocked out this lo-fi sleaze epic in a few hours between bouts of online gaming and frantic masturbation sessions, seeing as it consists solely of cheap gore and violence, random bouts of nudity and an abundance of soft core lesbianism aimed fairly and squarely at the 'I've never seen a lady naked except my mum' demograph.

Which frankly is a public service that must be applauded.

Seen as part of a - very - loose undead vs schoolies trilogy that includes Zombie Self-Defense Force and Zombie Hunter Rika, The Girls Rebel Force of Competitive Swimmers is by no means perfect, it would be churlish (and a wee bit geeky) to point out this movies flaws and weaknesses when your average viewer is only watching for a glimpse of the square faced, hamster cheeked dream girl Sasa Handa's breasts.

And let's be honest if you're planning to watch this in anything but a kinda post-ironic way you won't really care.

So I wont.

Handa: Chinny Rackon.

Running at a pain free eighty minutes tho' it never outstays it's welcome (unlike your mum) and the budget, although lower than John Leslie at Crufts is enough to make sure that things never looks too cheap and director Kawano spends most of it's scant run time wildly throwing ever more bizarre characters and situations at the screen hoping at least a few will stick and cover the cracks.

When he's not filling the screen with his cast of - at times painfully - cute milky thighed wannabe AV Idols in various states of undress that is.

Ayumu Tokitô: she'll even turn the milk chocolaty.

But it's not all sex and violence tho' because it also has some juggling, alongside fire breathing zombies and a flute playing pervert in a lab coat.

Still not sold?

Well give me another film that features all this plus a heroine with a deadly laser beam built into her vagina.

I'll wait.


Go on, you know you want to.























 *And an even bigger FUCK YOU to anyone sad enough to think they cause it in the first place....rant over.







**If I'm honest I don't even know what that means.