chicken run.

Seeing as I've read recently that somebody has bought the rights to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in an attempt to reboot/reinvigorate the franchise (sorry can't remember who and I can't be arsed checking...do you think this is a real film blog or something?) I reckoned it'd be good to revisit this classic.

To be honest I was gonna give the Netflix version another go but that's too shite even for this blog.

 

Anyway enjoy. 

 

 

To be honest "Laugh Now" is way too obvious a caption.

 

 

 

 

Leatherface (2017).
Dir: Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo.
Cast:  Stephen Dorff, Vanessa Grasse, Sam Strike, Lili Taylor, Finn Jones, James Bloor, Jessica Madsen, Sam Coleman and Julian Kosto.

Surely it should say the origin of Leatherface seeing as the origin of TCM is actually the film? Just saying.

Deep in the heart of Texas (played quite convincingly - surprisingly enough - by a small Bulgarian town) on the Sawyer homestead, mucky-faced mentalist matriarch Verna Sawyer (Lili - "The school fees are how much?" - Taylor) is busy organizing a birthday party for her youngest son/nephew/brother Jedidiah.

And what is the little tyke getting for his birthday?

Well the chance to slaughter a local hick they found wandering around the farm who it seems was attempting to steal a pig.

Presenting Jedidiah with a chainsaw the family cheer on the boy as he slowly (well he only has tiny legs) approaches the prone pig puller.

Being a sweet caring child tho' Jedidiah refuses, preferring to finish his cake leaving grandpa to finish the job with his trusty hammer.

Teeth.

Jump forward to 1955 where sweet young things Betty Hartman (the Converse-clad, button nosed pixie like Grasse) and Ted - hey fanboys here's a reference for you - Hardesty (Kosto) are happily driving down a country road when they come across (not in that way even tho' he's on all fours with his peachy arse sticking in the air) little Jedidiah clad only in a pair of soiled undies and a cow head.

No really.

Betty, being a nice girl (and obvious victim fodder, no one that cute could possibly survive that long in a horror movie) follows the wee fella to a dilapidated old barn where the rest of the Sawyer family are in hiding ready to drop a tractor engine on her head.

Unfortunately for them her father is not only the mad as a bag of spanners local Sheriff but also played by the frankly marvelous Stephen ("She's bleeding me dry with this divorce settlement!") Dorff who reacts by angrily shouting at everyone before taking little Jedidiah into custody and carting him off to the Gorman House Youth Reform School for 'his own safety'.

It's like a slightly more violent episode of The Archers really.

"Milk it."

With the backstory out of the way it's time to start the movie good and proper as we (quantum) leap ten years into the future where the recently-hired nurse Elizabeth White (It Came From The Desert star Grasse) is spending her first day at work bonding with the patients.

As opposed to abusing them ala One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest because no cliché works quite like an old cliché.

And just to show how nice she really is she stands up for the misunderstood and incredibly broody Jackson (Strike) when he steps in to stop the hulking monosyllabic Bud (ex Doctor Who companion Coleman) getting into trouble for fighting with the buck-toothed badboy Ike (Bloor who scarily looks like a living breathing human/Daffy Duck hybrid and so by default is the scariest thing in the film).

Grasse modeling the incredibly authentic 1960s nurses uniform she wears in the film...or is it in your dads bed?

Things are about to take a turn for the worse tho' as no sooner has our heroine calmed everyone down when Verna turns up with an injunction to allow her to see her son.

Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on if you want to watch a horror movie or a courtroom drama) the creepy head of the hospital Doctor Shanga Lang (Adamson who's been in loads of stuff including your auntie and your mum. Twice) tells her to fuck off adding that she couldn't see him even if they wanted her to seeing as they've changed Jedidiah's name to something else because it wouldn't fit on the name labels in his vest and what do you know the file with his new name has fallen down the back of the sofa.

Taking matters into her own (very delicate) hands the mentalist mum inadvertently causes a riot whilst searching for her boy allowing Ike and his burned boobed girlfriend Clarice (mother of Reservoir Dogs star Micheal, Jessica Madsen) to kidnap Elizabeth - along with Bud and Jackson - and steal a car in an attempt to flee to Mexico.

Moonhead.

As the group travel between rest stop diners and deserted caravans via various murder sprees, country roads and bloodbaths, Sheriff Hartman discovers that one of the group is actually Jedidiah so alongside his Deputy Nancy Sorells (Former Game of Thrones homosexualist, nephew of Doctor Who companion Jo Grant and Iron Fist himself Jones) heads off in hot pursuit.

Realizing that they've hit the halfway point with nary a hint of sleazy sex-based shenanigans our merry band of bonkers buddies take refuge in a rundown mobile home, abandoned save for the hanging putrefying corpse of its former owner, which not only supplies us with a cheap jump scare but gives Ike an excuse to whoop and giggles a lot whilst Clarice strips naked to reveal what a good job the make up department have done on her burn scars (and also show off the frankly magnificent fake nipples she's sporting) before the pair - unsurprisingly - engage in a necrophiliac threeway in an attempt to remind us just how down right bad they really are but only manages to make the viewer pine for the wonderful Beatrice Manowski in Nekromantik.

Tho' to be honest I never really need an excuse to do that.

Beatrice Manowski: Don't try this at home, again.

As the gruesome twosome sleep off their sexy hi-jinks Elizabeth makes a break for the woods only to be very quickly grabbed by a by now awake Ike who, after making some lewd suggestions decides to pick on Bud instead.

This not only saves Elizabeth from a brutal bumming but riles Bud up enough to stomp on Ike's head before falling asleep on his corpse.

Which is nice.

The next morning, Clarice notices that Ike is missing (she's observant like that) and heads off to find him leaving Jackson and Elizabeth to find Bud and wake him up before quickly running away.

Which is what I would love to do at this point if I'm honest, I mean I'm only sticking around to see if Lili Taylor turns up again - I've not been the same since I saw her in I Shot Andy Warhol well I'm only flesh and blood plus 'tween her and Dorff it's like a veritable reunion.

Taylor: Swift kick to the head.

It's not long tho' before crusty Clarice is apprehended by an ever more angry Hartman who in a fit of pique shoots her in the head as Bud, Jackson and Elizabeth watch from their hiding place inside a dead cow.

No.

Really.

Crawling out of the poor beasts arse our plucky trio make their way toward the highway where Elizabeth attempts to get the attention of a passing policeman who - as they are known to do in The States - responds by shooting Bud in the head.

This sends an understandably jittery Jackson into a violent rage culminating in him shutting the poor policeman's head in the car door whilst pinching his nipples before stealing the by now very messy motor and flooring it.

But Hartman is in hot pursuit.

www.nofuckingneed.com/yourmumsbestgoingoutclothes

In a chase scene the like of which hasn't been seen since the episode of Father Ted with the milk float, Hartman soon catches up with the daring duo, opening fire on the car and shooting Jackson in the mouth (which lets be honest is better than him shite-ing in it) causing a rather nasty crash.

And a wee bit of chafing.

As time passes and the screen fades thru black Elizabeth suddenly wakes to find herself handcuffed to the backdoor of Hartman's car.

We've all been there.

The silence is broken by Sorells on the radio (as in the police radio - he's not crooning a song on pick of the pops or anything) and Elizabeth manages to grab the mic with her feet and call for help but unbeknown to our heroine Sorells is in the pay of Verna, heading out to her homestead to  reveal her - and Hartman's - whereabouts.

It appears that Jackson is, in fact, Jedidiah and the crazy copper has him trussed up in the same barn his daughter was killed in.

Pausing only to feed Sorells to some pigs she gathers her family and heads over to the barn for a final confrontation with Hartman.

FOLD ME? - must not be just the plot that's paper thin then.

With Elizabeth trussed up like a Christmas turkey (albeit a turkey with wonderfully milky white thighs you could ski down) and an injured Jackson lying in a pool of his own piss moaning like your mum at the works end of year do Hartman stands legs akimbo with a shotgun in his hand goading the family to attack.

Which they do and with there being five of them they soon overpower the Sheriff and take him back to their house for tea, crumpets and a wee bit of chainsaw chopping courtesy of the by now shot to fuck - and flappy faced - Jackson/ Jedidiah.

In the confusion Elizabeth breaks free of her bonds and legs it into the woods, Jedidiah and co. in hot pursuit.

You can see where this is going can't you?

"Put it in me!"

Tripping over a discarded bear-trap Elizabeth is soon at the mercy of the by now deranged Jedidiah, his face held together with a makeshift muzzle constructed from an old thong and an eggcup as he slowly approaches his prone pal his chainsaw wobbling in the air menacingly.

OK I'll be honest he looks a wee bit of a cock but at least he's trying.

"Hello...are yu the blind man?"

Will Elizabeth be able to appeal to her one-time friends softer side or will she inadvertently insult his mum causing him to behead her in a fit of pique?

And if this does happen will he fashion Elizabeth's face into a leathery mask and take to wearing it (and shitly applied lipstick) around the house?

Go on, guess.

The prequel to the Tremaine 'Trey Songz' Neverson starring sequel cum reboot that no-one ever asked for (Ok maybe one person did and yes I'm looking at you nan) Leatherface is a futile attempt to breathe new life into a horror franchise that's last halfway decent entry was released way back in 1986.

Ignoring the brilliant Part 2 (probably) as well as Parts 3 and 4 - and the various reboots and rejigs since - Leatherface takes us back to the birth of a horror icon (again) in the vain hope that someone (anyone?) is interested, ticking all the deep south clichés along the way before exploding into an ill-advised mess of wobbly mantits, bad teeth, cheap gore and a twist so obvious you'll be surprised that they didn't just add another twist on the end to make up for it.

Or at least an apology.

Directors Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo (who obviously shot their horror wad when writing and directing the frankly marvelous Livide and the not too shady Inside) do their best with the limited budget available and whilst Bugaria does a passable impression of Texas and the cast try to add some sparkle to the hackneyed dialogue it's an uphill struggle that's neither shlocky enough or gruesome enough to be truly memorable.

Or even remotely enjoyable for any reason other than to marvel at the depths Lili Taylor and Stephen Dorff's careers have sunk to.

A friend of mine in it's defense said that "It's the best TCM movie not directed by Tobe Hooper."

Which sums it up perfectly.

 Avoid.

Unless you get turned on by fake rubbery nipples and bad teeth.

dead dwarf.

Day 4 of 31 days of horror and I'm frankly amazed that I've not gotten bored yet.


Although you probably have.

I Don't Want to Be Born (AKA It Lives Within Her, It's Growing Inside Her, Sharon's Baby, The Baby, The Devil Within Her, The Monster 1975)
Dir: Peter Sasdy.
Cast: Joan Collins, Eileen Atkins, Ralph Bates , Donald Pleasence, Caroline Munro, George Claydon, Floella Benjamin (yes, THAT Floella Benjamin) and John Steiner.

Let's begin as we mean to go on with  a sweating and screaming Joan Collins (as the - very - high class stripper Lucy Carlesi) giving birth to a huge baby boy who, obviously annoyed at having such a glamorous mum tries to scratch her eyes out when handed to her for a hug.

Joan should really have noticed something was wrong when the doctor in attendance is played by Donald (my mortgage has gone up) Pleasence.

Her husband, the rich Italian - for no discernible reason other than for Ralph Bates to try and crack the cast up with his authentic 'accent' obviously - businessman Gino Carlesi is overjoyed to have an heir and puts the babies size, strength and demonic demeanor down to his sexy Italian genes.

Lucy's having none of it tho' fearing there's something seriously wrong with her child but when she consults Dr. Finch (the aforementioned Pleasence) he tells her she's got PND and prescribes some patented happy pills.

Sorted.

Joan Collins, up the casino, Brighton, 1978.....YESCH.

 

So whilst Lucy spends her days either asleep, drinking, chatting to a badly dubbed yet still fragrant - I should know, I've sniffed her - Caroline Munro whilst looking increasingly shot to fuck as she stares up at the strange noises coming from the nursery, a gaggle of nannies, nurses and well wishers are systematically gouged, bitten, beheaded, stabbed or just plain murdered (to death obviously) by the tearaway tyke, who grins and gurgles sweetly after each killing.

You can tell whoever wrote this didn't have kids cos frankly that's the kind of thing that babies actually do.

I will endeavor to refrain from captioning this with "shite in mah toothless mooth", honest.I mean what do you think I am? A monster?

Gino beginning to actually believe that his wife may not have been lying about the baby decides to take matters into his own hands.

Which if I'm honest is a much more tasteful concept than him taking the baby in his mouth.

Saying that tho' it was the 70s and that kinda thing was acceptable back then.

And probably is now seeing the amount of "Age is just a number" MAP freaks that have invaded Twitter of late.

But I digress.
 
Bypassing the pediatric doctors, social work, the mid-wife and even NHS direct Gino instead decides to call his sister Albana (Eileen Atkins...how the fuck did they get this cast?) a local nun-about-town, for help.

Tho' why he wouldn't just ring cult noughties childcare guru and professional minx Dr. Tanya Byron I've no idea, I mean that's what I'd do.

But that's because I'm old enough to remember her hit show House of Tiny Tearaways unlike most of the readership here who are currently thinking "What the fuck is this old fart rambling about?"

Only joking obviously as no-one actually reads this blog.

Or cares.

Dr. Tanya Byron: No explanation needed.

 

 

 

Anyway using her divine superpowers Sister Albana deduces that the child may well be possessed by a devil.

Well it's either that or ADHD.

Tho' not Autism obviously because it didn't exist back then seeing as we all know it's caused by the MMR jag.

Or is it Paracetamol?

Too much screentime?

But I digress (again).

In relation to the plot how and why this has happened is a mystery to the parents tho'....I mean who the fuck would want to enter Joan Collins child and make them do bad things?

Unless that child was Tara Newley obviously because I love her.

Newley: Twice.

 

The cast stand about scratching their heads (or in Bates' case rubbing his semi-erect manhood against the coffee table) trying to think of a reason for their family traumas when suddenly (I think she must have just woken up and realised where she was) Lucy suddenly remembers a bizarre event that happened a few years before she met Gino whilst she was appearing in what looks like a community centre stage version of Moulin Rouge.

Tho' to be fair the filmmakers are desperately trying to convince us that this is a realistic 1970's London strip joint.

Working alongside a grumpy dwarf juggler cum dance star named Hercules (ex-Oompa Loompa George Clayton), Lucy would get her tits out to music whilst he tottered about on a unicycle regurgitating goldfish.

Which to me sounds a sure fire way of winning Britain's Got Talent next year.

Tho' I'm allergic to fish and my tits are frankly disappointing.

Eight thumbs up.....never touched the sides.

It appears that Herc' had a soft (well fairly hard if I'm honest) spot for Lucy and, after one particularly erotic 'Gypsy Rose Lee' inspired dance turn decided to creepily walk into her room and, without saying a word stand behind her touching Lucy's ample breasts with his sweaty sausage fingers.

Although there are a dozens of women (and men for that matter) that would love this kind of attention, Lucy it seems just isn't one of them, storming as she does out of the room and into the arms of her rat like boss Tommy (genre god John Steiner).

Feeling a wee bit left down the little fella curses Lucy and her first born before disappearing into the night (still dressed like one of Santa's helpers) in search of a Pot Noodle.

Is it in yet?

With no time to spare - the film isn't that long - it's up to Sister Albama, armed with only a crucifix and a bottle of SMA mixed with Holy Water to exorcise the child.

But time - and audience goodwill - is quickly running out.

Say what you like about the films actual fright factor but that hand baby is fucking terrifying.

Any movie with the balls to rip off the undisputed classic of paranoid motherhood Rosemary’s Baby and then have the audacity to add a sexually frustrated dwarf to the mix is worth a couple of hours of anyone's time and with I Don't Want To Be Born director Peter Sasdy (he of the bosom baring Countess Dracula and The Stone Tape fame) delivers one of the campest, trashiest movies of all time.

But whether this was intentional or not well the jury is still out.

The cast is a veritable who's who of cult stars, featuring as it does the combined acting talents of the fantastic Joan Collins (as the worlds only fully clothed stripper), Ralph (Doctor Jekyll and Sister Hyde) Bates, Donald (anything for the money) Pleasance, Euro-horror stalwart John Steiner, the lovely Caroline Munro, Play Schools Floella Benjamin and the frankly ludicrous casting the wonderful Eileen Atkins in the Max Von Sydow role.

Genius or utter madness?

I honestly don't know.

What I do know is that by far the bizarrest thing about the whole endeavor is the fact that everyone is playing it dead straight, it's almost as if they're all convinced that this is a seriously scary horror picture, a little person based British answer to The Exorcist that will change the way the audience see demonic dwarf based possession forever.

And it's for that reason alone that many (serious) horror connoisseurs put this film head and shoulders above Friedkin's attempt at supernatural terror.

Beware the binmen!

You still need convincing?

Well how many movies can you think of that feature a baby in a vile 70's frill covered pram punching out it's victims, drowning nannies and attacking all and sundry with an axe before trying to bite an actress of Ms. Collins statures nipple as she attempts to breastfeed him?

Well I'll do the maths for you.

The answer is none.

I counted twice to make sure.

And that's what makes I Don't Want To Be Born the undiscovered classic it really is, not to mention it features the greatest pervy little person since Torben Bille beat that teenage girl over the head with a stick in the opening minutes of The Sinful Dwarf.

Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce: The wilderness years.

Why Bille and Claydon never teamed up on screen is a mystery that may never be answered, they could have made a road movie with the pair traveling the length and breadth of Britain in a Fiat 500L tempting hitch-hikers into the back with evermore hilarious results.

Just imagine, it'd be like Peter Kay's Car Share.

Only funny obviously.

But alas this was never to be, so let's count ourselves lucky that the pint-sized pair appeared in two such fantastic (and top quality) movies leaving a legacy that will never be matched.

Bille and Claydon we salute you.

Garlic bread, Spangles, me nan's had a stroke etc.

Tomorrow....something else.

beast warts.

 

Day 3 of 31 days of horror....It would have been Metalstorm: The Destruction of Jared-Syn but after viewing it last night (I know I really should have seen it before, sorry) I realized that:

A. It's not horror.

 
B. It's shite.


Unlike this classic which is not only a wee bit like Alien but actually much more entertaining than Alien Earth.

La Bestia nello spazio (AKA Beast in Space, The Beast of Space 1978)
Dir: Alfonso Brescia (AKA Al Bradly....like that makes any difference)
Cast: Sirpa Lane (as Shirpa Lane), Vassili Karis, Lucio Rosato, Venantino Venantini, Marina Hedman and Maria D'Alessandro.

Please note: the costume is not this convincing (and Shirpa's arse isn't that big).

Sometime in the far, far future and somewhere in the inky blackness of space in a place where swimming caps are de rigeur and droopy facial hair is the law what appears to be a Petits Filous pot with a few bendy straws attached gracefully drifts thru' the heavens towards Space Station Gerard.

Well, that's what it sound like on my scratchy 5th generation VHS copy.

Aboard is the Tefal headed, pube haired John Holmes alike Captain Larry Madison (Karis, wearing Gianni Garko's hand-me-downs from the directors other SciFi opus Sette uomini d'oro nello spazio), ready for some much needed rest and recreation.

Slinking into the station bar like a tiger in heat he zero's in on a bubble permed space babe with an out of this world plunging neckline propping up the corner of the bar, with teeth like tombstones he smiles sexily before ordering "A bottle of Uranus".

The plot (?) screeches to a standstill allowing us to marvel at Madison's chat up techniques and gaze in awe at the spacey costumes on show but luckily - after what seems like 17 hours - a bar room brawl breaks out (which I guess gives it the edge on The Next Generation), giving Captain Studly the excuse he needs to drag the space babe off for some interstellar lovin'.


Fuck yeah.

"Is it in yet?"

Obviously fast-forward thru' these sausage-based shenanigans to get to the plot (look I haven't got all day) it transpires that during a wee bout of post-coital snoozing the nameless perm headed lady begins to have vivid (and very saucy) dreams about a woman in a toga being chased thru' a forest by a hairy monster with a massive erection.

Or it may be a horse seeing as they only show its hooves.

By that I mean the creature, the woman most definitely has feet.

Tho' if any women are reading this that are afflicted with a condition that gives them hoof-like feet please don't worry, I'm sure you're still valid.

But I digress.

It's not too surprising that she awakes screaming with terror and leaps straight into the arms of Madison for comfort who, after a wee bit of concerned face acting and a few back pats, makes his excuses and jogs away to 'space captain headquarters' to report for his next exciting mission.

Inside Keir Starmer's mind.

Busily discussing space and stuff with his man-breasted colleagues Madison quickly tires of of the endless chats regarding time factor warps and the moons of Uranus so quickly changes the subject by mentioning the Christmas tree a bauble he, um 'found' during the pub fight, excitedly showing it to his pals he's amazed to discover that it is, in fact a piece of Entalium.

Admit it, you never saw that coming.

It appears that this ultra-rare element is crucial to the construction of the space fleets weapons or something, so Madison is ordered to retrieve more from a mysterious planet ASAP as the safety of the universe relies on the missions success.

Tho' surely it'd be easier just to ask the crewman he stole it off if he has any more?

Nah that'd be silly plus we still have 60 odd minutes of sexy space adventure to fill.

Madison accepts the challenge but explains that he's got to return to the bar first to shag, sorry recruit Lt. Sondra Richardson (harsh faced Euro soft core babe Sirpa Lane) an expert in Entalium extraction before raiding the dressing up box in the hope of finding enough bri-nylon romper suits for everyone and blasting off into the unknown.

"Are you looking at my bra?"

Minutes into the journey tho' things start to get a bit strange as Sondra too begins to have saucy dreams about the petrifyingly penised predator.

Could it be linked to the spooky glowing Entalium?

To be honest no one seems to care, so they continue on towards the planet where, upon landing the crew are confronted by its enigmatic alien leader - possibly named Geoff or something, I too was past caring by this point - and his followers.

Ask your mum.

It seems that he's been telepathically sending saucy messages to Sondra in the hope that she'll shag him.

He must be a fan of her early work.

But hopefully not Papaya Of The Caribbean tho' seeing as it really is utter shite.

Understandably curious as to how Geoff would think that transmitting beast-based bonking across time and space would in any way be helpful in attracting the attentions of a passing spacecraft our brave crew members are surprised to find Geoff not guilty.

Being both beffcake-like and brainy, Madison  - alongside Geoff and his horny horde - soon realize that someone or something else on the planet is responsible for the spate of phantom fanny fiddling currently affecting the ships female crew members.

But to what ends?

Peow!

Will the crew escape with the Entalium before they're forced into an alien sex orgy?

Will Sondra end up shagging both the centaur and the alien leader?

Will the alien leader then be revealed as a shite cardboard robot who has taken human form in order to truly understand the human condition of love?


Will any of the shoddily inserted sex scenes actually feature the pervily puffy-lipped MiLF Marina Frajese - the star of Play Hotel - seeing as this is one of the reasons I purchased this.


Look I've been a huge fan of hers since she absolutely nailed the role of the first girl at the audition in the 1978 classic How to Lose a Wife and Find a Lover, so sue me.

But more importantly will there be a pound shop light saber fight?

The answer to the last one is yes by the way.

I wouldn't want one of them swimming up my arse.

Part Italian Star Wars rip-off, part re-make of Walerian Borowczk's erotic masterpiece La Bete, part unedited glimpses into the mind of a madman - La Bestia nello spazio transcends not only genre pigeonholing but all boundaries of good taste and coherent storytelling in one fell swoop.   

Which is pretty good going seeing as up until this point director Alfonso Brescia was best known (feared?) for such threadbare fantasy epics as The Terror of Rome Against the Son of Hercules and The Magnificent Gladiator.

Like most folk at the time tho' he decided to make a - drunken and clumsy sausage fingered - move into the space opera genre after seeing Star Wars (tho' from his work I'd be more inclined to believe it was after seeing Bleep and Booster) bringing us the classics Battaglie negli spazi stellari (Cosmos: War of the Planets) and the cleverly titled sequel War of the Robots as well as giving us the robot invasion movie Star Odyssey.

Always one to save a bit of cash (usually by employing non-actors and getting his kids to write the scripts) Brescia often utilized the same sets and costumes in every one of his space epics, giving an (unintentional) uniformity to his visions of the future that lesser films such as the Star Trek franchise failed to deliver.

Saying that they also failed to deliver scenes of Lt. Uhura rubbing one off whilst watching a couple of horses copulate in a field but heyho.

But whilst his earlier works are (kinda) kid friendly action packed - well I say packed -  romps, La Bestia nello spazio plays out like a kinda cheap (and much dirtier) Italian version of what Doctor Who would become in the RTD2 era.

Albeit a version that's been totally lobotomized rather than just beaten around the head a few times.

Tho' the fucking abysmal Space Babies episode comes close.

"...And if you pop this jar of liver in the microwave for a few minutes it'll feel just like fanny!"

Saying that tho' if Doctor Who had attempted a Ncuti Gatwa/alien donkey sex episode (rumour has it that it would have been the opening episode of series 3 before Disney canned the whole thing for being utter bollocks - which is scary seeing as they greenlit The Acolyte) you know for a fact the beast would have been slightly more convincing than the one on show here.


Plus let's be honest, you can say what you like about his (lack of) acting ability and charisma but Ncuti does has a much nicer arse than Sirpa Lane.

And not just because Lane's been dead for over 30 years.

Sirpa Lane carefully considers her career choices.

Talking of Sirpa Lane (which I must admit is quite often) how does La Bestia nello spazio compare to Walerian Borowczk's aforementioned (and better known) Euro-tic shagfest and is it worthy of comparison?

For those of you who've never experienced the joy of Borowczk's take on Beauty and The Beast (as in the film, your dad drunkenly coming into your room and fondling you under the covers doesn't count)  here's a wee bit of background.

Filmed in 1975 it tells the story of the nutty Esperance family, whose financial stability depends on a marriage between their nuckle dragging son, Mathurin and young English girl Lucy Broadhurst.

Here come the Belgians!

When she arrives arrives at the family home she becomes obsessed with their most (in)famous ancestor, Romilda (Lane in a huge powdered wig and a lacy undies), whose torn corset - bizarrely enough -  has pride of place in the family living room.
 

With nothing to fill her time (her betrothed is poorly) Lucy comes across - not in that way, at least not yet - Romilda's diary and soon begins to experience feverishly erotic dreams about her sexual encounters with a huge hairy beast in the woods.

Cue much Chuckle Hounds-based buggery and the like.

Now as great as La Bete is (especially if you like seeing ladies in 18th century garb being chased thru' woods by men in crap bear suits with big black rubber cocks attached and let's be frank about this - who doesn't?) not even I would think it'd translate into a great (or not even a fair to middling) Science Fiction movie no matter how drunk I was, but it seems that director Brescia wanted to prove us all wrong showing that you can mix soft core porn and Sci-Fi for a family audience.

Which if nothing else you should at least admire the balls of the guy.

If not the hastily painted paper-mache ones on the space beast.

What your girlfriend really gets up to on her girls nights out.

Worth a look if you're an Italian Sci-Fi completist, Shirpa Lane fan or if you have an appreciation of pantomime animal costume sex romps.


And if you tick all three boxes this'll be your favourite movie of all time.

Scarily there will be someone out there that this'll apply to.

And no, Russell T Davies doesn't count.

No Russell, they said it was a pile of wank.

Tomorrow some actual, proper 'horror'.


I promise.

cat man do.

Day 2 of this years 31 Days of Horror and I'm already breaking out the big guns.

And by big guns I mean unconvincing catfish/human hybrids.

Enjoy. 

Zaat (AKA Blood Waters of Dr. Z, Hydra, Attack of the Swamp Creatures. 1971).

Dir: Don Barton.

Cast: Marshall, Wade Popwell, Paul Galloway, Gerald Cruse, Sanna Ringhaver, Dave Dickerson, Archie Valliere, Nancy Lien, Jamie DeFrates, Edward Nick Wildrick and Jimmy Merrill.

 

I'll cause underwater life to triumph over all other living creatures. I will adapt myself to a permanent underwater environment. All other humans will be conquered. I can not - I WILL NOT BE STOPPED! I will select a mate with utmost care, and together we will create a whole new aquatic race. But there is no time left!

 

 

Welcome to the wacky water-based world of ex-Nazi scientist Dr. 'King' Kurt Leopold (Grauer in his only film role, this may happen a lot here) whose obsession with splicing humans and fish in order to create a master-race - that according to his monotonous voice-over will rule the universe - has caused him to become ostracized from his peers and left his hair a greasy uncombed mop.  

Anyway after 20 years of research (and almost 20 minutes of even more monotonous voice-over) he's finally perfected a formula - known as Z_aA_t - that can actually transform humans into sea-based hybrids.

Leopold excitedly strips down to a big blue adult diaper and straps himself - uncomfortably it must be said - to a rickety gurney before quickly injecting himself with the serum and lowering himself into a child's swimming pool. Finally emerging - in a display of flashing lights and bubbles - in his new terrifying form and played by a totally different person, local scuba instructor Wade Popwell.

Tho' I've no idea if he does actually pop well.

And what is his new form I hear you cry.

Well that of a giant wibbly wobbly, ball-headed catfish monster.

No doubt Nev Schulman will be shitting himself at the mere thought of this.

And with that he clumsily wanders off to the nearest lake in order to add even more Z_aA_t to the local water supply in order to raise a giant catfish army.

Oh and to look for an attractive lady to turn into a fish so he can reproduce obviously.

And get revenge on his ex-workmates.

So all in all he's got a pretty busy day ahead of him.

And it's only just gone 10 o'clock.

 

Richard Tice farted...and it was a eggy one.

 

 

Meanwhile local Sheriff - and cake shop fan - Lou Krantz (Galloway, best known for his top notch performance as 'the garage man' in J.D.'s Revenge) alongside the town's resident marine biologist 'Rawhead' Rex Baker (non-hit wonder Cruse) are busy not only investigating the outbreak of violent diarrhea amongst the townsfolk but also the random acts of vandalism seemingly being committed by the local fish.

And all whilst staring longingly into each others eyes.

Seriously the sexual tension 'tween the pair is unbearable at times. 

Tho' not as unbearable as the film in general tho'.

Anyway, with the local law enforcement - and the local shop keepers who are busy restocking the toilet roll aisles - distracted, Leopold begins his plan of revenge against those who mocked his theories. 

First by killing his former colleague Professor Max Maxson - and his family - whilst they're enjoying a fishing trip (oh the irony) and then by murdering his old bridge partner (or something) Dr. Bobby Ewing whilst he's polishing his fishing rod.

Which isn't half as rude as it sounds unfortunately. 

With his revenge taken and the waters poisoned (well that was a quick revenge), Leopold can now concentrate on finding himself a lady to kidnap, mutate and spend his evening making baby catfish with.

If only real life was this easy.

 

Tunnel or funnel?

 

Luckily he comes across (not in that way, well not yet) the perfect match whilst out for a walk/paddle that very night when he spies a young lady, Jenny Soontodie (Nancy Lien*) camping by the riverside.

As in she's by the waters edge, not at Glasgow's fantastic transport museum or appearing in the weekly BBC 2 magazine program (which ran 1982-1983) that focused on music, art, fashion and style that was broadcast from Riverside Studios.

Glad that's cleared up. 

 

Not you.

 

Or you.

 But I digress.

Waiting in the bushes for a chance to strike Jenny soon decides to go for a dip and Leopold seizes the opportunity to knock her unconscious and drag her back to his lab where he repeats the transformation process on her.

Unfortunately Leopold has forgotten to top the electricity meter up, so the power shorts out halfway thru' leaving poor Jenny partially transformed - but fully dead -leaving him no choice but to dissolve her body in acid and stomp off in a sulk.

 

Laugh now.

Back to the other plot and baffled by the number of deaths and disappearances in town, Rex decides to contact the world renowned, monster hunting investigation organization INPIT (which actually does stand for something but I honestly can't remember what....why not write in and tell me, you could win a prize) who quickly send the crimson jumpsuited serial shagging science duo Martha Walsh (Sanna Ringhaver) and Walker Stevens (Bargain hunt star Dave Dickerson) to help. 

After much - well a wee bit of - scientific musing the pair announce that yes, the town is under siege from a giant cat fish, albeit one with poisonous claws and a permanent erection. 

Well I say the pair but it's mostly Walker that does the talking, Martha has quickly changed out of her jumpsuit to tiny blue hotpants and mainly just sits around crossing and uncrossing her legs.

Anyway, setting up a series of nets and tripwires along the riverbank it's not long before our heroes come face to face with Leopold and as is the way where science is involved, him and Walker soon get involved in a scuffle where Walker gets a nasty lovebite and Leopold gets stabbed in retaliation causing him to go mad and start punching trees as he hobbles off home. 

Given the choice of following him or just standing around our merry band of science-types obviously just stand around looking smug/glum.

Insert amusing caption here....or your cock, to be honest either will suffice.

This arse-kicking has done nothing to help Leopold's temper tho' so as the murders and mayhem continue (OK Leopold has angrily kicked a pot plant over) Sheriff Krantz has no choice but to evacuate the town in order to let the INPIT team do their job uninterrupted.

Cue 15 (very) odd minutes of old folk riding bicycles, folk clutching puppies whilst climbing into trucks and in a scene as mind shatteringly banal as it is unnecessary an entire sequence where Krantz - after finding a group of Jesus loving hippies holding a singalong in the local community hall, sits and listens to their song before leading them to safety at the police station.

With all this love thy neighbour shite going down and with Walker laid up in bed recovering from his injuries, Leopold has no trouble sneaking back into town and along to the chemist where he gorges himself on all the drugs before murdering a young couple (in a case of 'vampire rape' as Krantz matter of factly puts it later) who've been left behind and finally deciding to finish the night by spying on Martha as she nurses Walker.

 

Feeling an odd stirring in his fishy loins Leopold realises that Martha would be the perfect mate and with that heads home for a tearful wank followed by a Prawn-flavored Pot Noodle.

What your mum really gets up to on bingo nights.

 

 

The next morning over breakfast, Sheriff Krantz announces that all these fish-based killings are reminding him of a mad doctor by the name of Leopold Walker who used to live in the local woods and was obsessed with genetically splicing humans and catfish.

Which now means that the movie might finish that little bit faster.

We can but hope.

So with this - fairly important bit of - information, Walker, Rex and Sheriff Krantz decide that now might be a good time to go and investigate the lab, leaving Martha behind because she feels like taking a shower.

No, really.

And with that the trio drive off to look at stuff. 

Unbeknown to them tho', Leopold is watching from the shadows, preparing to pounce.

And pounce he does, tho' I'll give him his due seeing as he waits till Martha is showered and dressed before kidnapping her.

Which is nice.

Doesn't matter how hard you scrub Sanna, the smell of this stinker will always be there.

Meanwhile our heroes have arrived at Leopold's lab only to find he's not in but having spent all that time getting there they decide to have a nosy around anyway, finding not only Leopold's notebooks but also a hastily scribbled drawing of Martha in a handmade loveheart.

Realising what he has in mind for the poor girl they quickly rush back to town not only to find she's missing but also discover a massive pile of fish scales in the butter dish.

Determined to save Martha and, in a scene that would put the makers of the Bond films to shame, Walker jumps into a mini, 6 wheeled amphibious car and heads into the local pond to look for her whilst Rex and Sheriff Krantz head back to the lab.

 

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

 

Will Walker be able to navigate the dangerous duck pond and rescue Martha before it's too late?

Will Rex and Krantz finally admit their feelings for each other?

Will Walker get bitten by a rubber snake?

Will Leopold find true love or will he get into a big fight, killing Rex and Krantz before slowly walking out to sea to be followed by a brain-washed Martha as Walker looks on in despair?

Go on, guess.

 

 


 

From the mind of - the spookily well respected - Florida-based film fella Don Barton (he won the Freedom Foundation's Award for excellence in documentary for "Jacksonville Story", the only film of an American city to be shown at the American Exhibit in Moscow when the Iron Curtain was partially lifted fact fans) comes this brain damaged, backyard brother of the Creature from The Black Lagoon and obvious inspiration for Guillermo del Toro's fish fiddling The Shape of Water - ZAAT, a film that manages to not only be both over complicated and childishly simplistic as the same time but also be so arse numbingly slow and devoid of any merit as to be almost painful on the eyes yet scarily it's about as addictive and watchable as cinema gets, coming across like some meta-masterclass in bad film-making.

Seriously it's like sitting in a room watching lead based paint dry only to find that the doors locked and the fumes are addictive.

Tho' to be honest I'm not sure if that's good or bad.

I mean there's really not much you can say about ZAAT if I'm honest, the acting for what it is, is almost totally non-existent, the effects - to put it politely - aren't even worthy of even being called threadbare and the monster suit is so bad that I even feel guilty mentioning it.

 

I can't even say that at least they tried because by the look of it they didn't.

                                          They're coming to get you Nicholas!

 

And why oh why did they feel the need to put a folk song about Jesus in it other than they had one to hand?

It's like that bit in The Alien Factor when Atlantis perform their hit single Maybe Someday  or when Stoneground turn up in Dracula AD 1972 for no other reason than to perform Alligator Man and You Better Come Through for Me.

 

Only shitter obviously.

What possessed 70s film types to randomly drop long-haired layabouts wielding mandolins into perfectly good horror films?

Answers to the usual e-mail address.

 

No budget, no plan and no mercy - ZAAT should be an abomination that can only be cleansed with fire but somehow it isn't.

Maybe Barton's enthusiasm shines thru' just enough to make it somehow worth watching and strangely enjoyable.

Plus it's good to know where Russell T Davies got his inspiration for the Doctor Who spin-off The War Between The Land And The Sea from.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*But not this one, I checked.