Monday, May 10, 2021

scotch pissed.

Discovered a Paul Naschy film I'd not seen.

After watching it I now know why.

La orgía de los muertos (AKA Orgy of the Dead, The Hanging Woman, Beyond the Living Dead, Return of the Zombies and Terror of the Living Dead among others, 1973).

Dir: Jose Luis Merino.

Cast: Stelvio (Stan Cooper) Rosi, Aurora de Alba, Maria Pia Conte, Gérard Tichy, Dyanik Zurakowska, Pasquale Pasile, Gérard Tichy, Isarco Ravaioli, Carlos Quiney and Lord Paul of Naschy.

For the Squeamish ... Keep Repeating ... It Can't Be True ... It Can't Be True ... It Can't Be True ... It Can't Be True ... It Can't Be True ...

Our tale begins in 19th century Scotland (played here utterly realistically by Skopje in Macedonian) where sexy blonde-bobbed bloke around town Serge Chekov (Council estate Jason King, Rosi, billed as Stan Cooper for reasons beyond our comprehension) and his porn star 'tache has just arrived from 'the London' for the reading of his late uncle Brian’s will. 

And I mean late as in dead, not that he was shite at timekeeping.

With the train guard telling him that no taxis go to the nearby town of Yaweebam after dark due to rampaging Kappa-trackie demons, Serge has no choice but to proceed on foot.

Well technically that's not true as he could stay at the local hotel till morning if he wanted but obviously it's a short film so he wants to get down to the actual plot as soon as possible.

Which is fair enough.

Taking a short cut thru' the local graveyard he's shocked to come across the body of a young girl swinging from a tree and is soon running around in a fairly girly manner, banging on doors and screaming for help only stopping when he gets to his uncle's house.

The fact that he doesn't recognize it or realize that the corpse is that of his cousin Mary (de Alba from Raise Your Hands, Dead Man, You're Under Arrest and Frankenstein's Bloody Terror among other classics) till someone tells him makes me think that they're not that close a family.

Or that he'd actually any idea as to where he was heading.

But heyho, that's early 70s Spanish horror films for you. 

Well this one at least.

"Are you the farmer?"


It's not all bad tho' as Serge soon discovers that he is to his inherit the entire of his uncle’s estate, much to the chagrin of Brian's widow Nadia (Conte, from Spasmo, The Labyrinth of Sex and your dad's bed) a foxy temptress who, when not shagging Ivan the butler (Quiney from shedloads of stuff, none of it any good tho') or having crafty cunnilingus sessions with Igor the gravedigger (Sir Paul of Naschy - the reason we are here)is busy performing black magic rites in her nightie. 

Which is nice.

Add weirdy beardy Professor Leon Droila (Spanish cinema god Tichy) who had been tasked by Brian to find a cure to death via the reanimation of disco-dancing frogs and his harsh daughter Doris (Zurakowska, best known for the classic Vampires Night Orgy and having a really wide face) to the mix and you can see why local police detective and pie expert Jeff Tidybeard (Spain's very own Noel Edmonds, Basile from Julius Caesar Against the Pirates) is convinced that something more sinister than a late night graveyard suicide is afoot.

He suspects murder and is pretty sure that Igor is to blame, especially since they've discovered his love of sniffing (dead) ladies underwear and his habit of sticking his engorged member into female corpses.

Which to me sounds like he's definitely a bit of a wrong 'un,  tho' others would no doubt say he's stunning and brave whilst demonizing and de-platforming anyone who would question the mental health of a person sticking their cock in a corpse. 


"Is it in yet?"

Anyway back at the plot and Nadia is relaxing with a wee bit of voodoo hoodoo (you do, remind me of the babe that is) before following Serge to his room with offers of 'the sex' in the hope of her fantastic blouse persuading him to let her stay in the house.

She will not be the last person to try this trick on Serge during the remainder of the film.

Knocking her back on account of her having 'Knees like me mum', Serge bids her goodnight and - in a scene of unbridled eroticism - slowly strips for bed only to be confronted by Igor falling out of a wardrobe shouting "I'm no a bad 'un really, I just shag corpses! It's everyone else who's wrong!" before trying to stab Serge in the face and escaping thru a secret passage behind the toilet.

Hearing the commotion coming from Serge's room Nadia bursts in to help but only succeeds in hitting poor Serge on the head with a chamber pot resulting in him getting knocked unconscious, luckily Nadia manages to convince him that the best cure for concussion is a shag in her dead husbands bed.

Being a wee bit unsteady on his feet and mildly confused Serge agrees.

Cue ten minutes (or is it hours?) of twirling cut price sexy psychedelic shagging, which would be OK if the whole saucy sense of sexiness wasn't ruined by the cast's dirty feet.

Oh and by Rosi's really hairy arse.

Or was that Conte's?

Obviously Ivan the butler is fairly upset by this turn of events and tries to exert his manliness by refusing to serve Serge an extra crumpet at breakfast which results in our hero shouting - in his best Alan Sugar voice - "You're fired!" at him before punching him in the face which Ivan counters by pulling out a switchblade and trying to stick it in Serge.

Five minutes of slow fighting - and one broken banister - later and Serge has booted the big-haired badboy out of the house with a threat to shoot him in the face if he returns.

Ivan announces that he knows what's going on before storming off into the night.

And with that out of the way everyone retires to bed.

Except me obviously as I want to see how everything plays out.

That's your Mum that is.

With a fairly short running time to fill, the next morning Serge has no sooner finished breakfast when Professor Leon Droila walks in to beg our hero to continue funding his experiments and not chuck him and Doris out into the streets.

Which is fair enough I guess.

He has nowt to worry about tho' as Serge has money to burn and no intention of chucking the Prof and his daughter out on their arse, especially after witnessing an amazing reanimated frog experiment in the downstairs laboratory.

In all the frog-based excitement tho' no-one thinks to tell Doris the good news so she takes in on herself to - uncomfortably - strip down to her pants in front of Serge in the hope of him allowing the pair to stay on the payroll and being the joker he is he doesn't mention it till she's tearfully about to let him put it in her.

What a card.

And with that the pair decided to figure out for themselves what's going down.

Apart from scarily abusive misogyny obviously.

Baby Spice is taking the divorce well.

As their investigations continue, Serge comes across his late niece's diary which leads him back to the family crypt (well it was either there or the chippie - it is a very small town) where he discovers that his uncle's body has vanished, luckily Nadia is on hand to perform a seance in order to contact the count and ask him what the fuck is going on.

Unfortunately for her rather than knock over candles and bang on the table he actually turns up in the (slightly peeling) flesh and strangles her.

To death!


Less is there anyone here, more is anyone fucking interested.

So is Serge's uncle alive or dead? 


Well Inspector Tidybeard reckons that they may have just missed him in the crypt what with it being dark and all, so everyone heads back for a second look.

 And guess what?

Not only is the count's body is back where it should be but poor Igor is there too, bricked up in a wall and covered in blood, egg and shit.

And he's left them a clue scrawled in his own blood.

Or it might be paint.

With the film lurching toward a climax and with nowt of any consequence happening on screen save a few scenes of nudity and Naschy's sweaty man-tits, Serge and Doris head into the catacombs below the house only to discover a horde of zombies awaiting their orders.

But who is controlling them?

And why?

No, really, why cos none of this makes any sense.


Whilst better known for his action/adventure output (including the classics Slaughter on the Khyber Pass, Battle of the Last Panzer and Zorro, Rider of Vengeance) director José Luis Merino had already - if not flirted - then at least given a furtive reach-around to the horror genre with his 1970 offering Scream of the Demon Lover, the terrifying tale a young and beautiful biochemist, Ivanna Rakowsky who falls in love with her employee Baron Janos Dalmar. Little realising that at night he transforms into a demon intent on making her its love slave.

Reading that back I'm kinda wondering why I didn't review that instead.

Oh well.


A strong wumman does some science yesterday.

To be fair tho', what this film lacks in demon-based lusting it more than makes up for with its heady mix of (junior) Cluedo style hi-jinks (albeit with added panty sniffing), a genuinely - at times - creepy atmosphere, Voodoo, zombies, mad scientists and lashings of nudity and gore.

Plus a guest appearance by Paul Naschy that he did as a favour on the proviso  that he could flesh out his character, sleep with the leads (both male and female), write his own dialogue and wear his own trousers.

It's just a pity then that none of it actually holds together in any way whatsoever.

The 'plot' - what there is of it - is equally over-complicated and under developed; at one point screeching to a halt so we can 'enjoy' a ketchup soaked autopsy, the characterization (save for Naschy) is sketchy at best, especially with our 'hero' Serge who goes from well meaning nice guy to predatory creep at the drop of a hat and the fact that there are a fair few characters that don't even have names - even tho' the village seems to only have about 8 inhabitants.

Lucky for us then that just when you think about turning it off Paul Naschy appears at random intervals clad in an Alvin Stardust wig, Benny beanie and with an eggy beard randomly touching up a corpse and saving the whole film in the process.

And for that, as ever we salute him. 

Oh and the scenery is quite nice and whilst The Hanging Woman is no way the best Spanish/Italian co-production featuring a zombie frog ever made it's really not that shit and is a fairly pain-free way to spend an evening.

And if that's not damning with (very) faint praise I don't know what is.

Be seeing you.

Sunday, May 2, 2021

bark at the moon.

Revisited possibly the second greatest zombie movie of all time* as part of our brand new Twitter watchalong last night so thought I'd reanimated the review for those of you who'd never seen it.

And if you are one of those unlucky few, for fucks sake where have you all been?

And by the way if you do (as you should) love this movie as I do, why not express that love by buying one of these fantastic Burial Ground T-shirts available here or even here.

End of plug.

As a curious aside before we begin I thought I'd just add that during one of our many chats regarding this classic long-time reader Mr Dissolved Paul from The Canada (yes you can) discovered that apparently, (according to this ropey old VHS release anyway), the movie is actually set in Scotland.

Obviously there just happens to be a bunch of Italians and Etruscan Zombie monks kicking about.

But, he goes on to add, if that was the case, I'm pretty sure the most famous line would be "Ma, this rag totally stinks of pish".


Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror (AKA The Nihgts of Terror, Le Notti del Terrore, Die Ruckkehr Der Zombies - 1981)
Dir: Andrea Bianchi.
Cast: Peter Bark, Mariangela Giordano, Karin Well, Anna Valente, Simone Mattioli and Raimondo Barbieri.

"No, don't eat me. I'm your friend!"

Our tale of terror opens in a damp, dark cave - and surprisingly that isn’t a euphemism for Karin Well - where we join Santa's piss stained, fish-bearded and buggery obsessed brother examining some spooky cave drawings.

Obviously excited about this discovery he begins to bang on the walls whilst doing a - fairly erotic in the circumstances - drunk dance which unfortunately for him (but not for us) has awoken the dead that reside in the cave.

Dead that are hungry for human flesh.

And a wee bit of old man arse probably.

"Aye son, mah lottery numbers have
come up! oh no...ahv pished mah sel'."

Thru' the magic of cack handed editing it's suddenly the next morning where a motley band of visitors (three sexy young couples and a pot bellied dwarf  - sorry, small boy, my mistake) have arrived at the house and are looking forward to a weekend break in the country and catching up with their old pal Professor Ayres (the aforementioned bearded Barbieri).

Rocking up at the front door like some nightmare vision in Bri-Nylon our merry band are informed by the (fairly attractive in a kinda pound shop way) maid that the professor is out exploring and may be gone some time so they should make themselves at home.

Which in this case is an excuse for a quick bout of some hot sweaty sex-based shenanigans in the guest bedrooms.

Rushing to their rooms to unpack, undress and start shagging, poor little Michael (the legend that is Peter Bark looking for all the world like the result of an unholy pairing of Kevin Spacey and a warty testicle) is left alone in the downstairs lobby with only his Rubik Cube and Eye-Spy book of European arses for company.

Your mum and dad. Having sex.
In your bed.

After amusing himself for a few minutes playing with the hat stand and creepily chasing the maid, Michael decides to creep in on his mother and her mightily mustachioed lover in order to pick up a few sex tips.

We've all done it.

None too surprisingly the sight of a bowl headed, poppy eyed freak gazing lustfully from behind the sideboard does nothing for her growing passion so she throws a shoe at him screaming "Get out!".

As we will learn later, Michael has a wee thing for his dear mum and doesn't like her hanging around with perm haired, tanned Lothario's, no matter how tight their arses look whilst thrusting up and down on his mummy.

Fair enough.

Insert cock here.

After a morning of gin soaked sexiness and rampant STD's the couples settle down to some top grub whilst discussing the Professor's paper on the magical practices of the ancient Etruscans (ah, you studied that too eh?) before deciding to frolic round the lush gardens.

Michael on the other hand has decided to just sit and stare at his mums breasts.

Saying that tho' if my mums were half as bouncy I'd do the same.

But I digress.

Anyway, just in case you're wondering the frolicking in question mainly consists of sexy photography, breast fondling and general fanny flashing sauciness.

Fun for them maybe, but not for the viewer, unless you find the idea of middle aged Italian couples in nasty 70's fashion dry-humping to a sub Confessions score attractive.

Your maw's takin' the divorce well.

Luckily tho' just when you think the movie is going to descend into a soft core Euro-porn extravaganza, the dead do indeed start to rise from beneath the rosebushes and - remarkably for rotting centuries old Etruscans - manage to cut off any access to the cars, run the really annoying Janet (not the same of from Zombie Lake mind) into a handy bear trap, kill the non mustachioed man with a house brick and trap the shaky, shot to fuck survivors in the house.

And all within about twelve minutes, which isn't bad for a group of shite-covered tramps.

A shite moothed zombie
Etruscan yesterday.

The group are left with a big decision to they:

A. Board up the house, arm themselves, find a safe vantage point (i.e. the attic) and defend it till help comes.


B. Argue among themselves, wandering off in a huff occasionally (alone).

Unbelievably Mr. mustache decides it would be best to board the house up! Everyone looks at him, then each other, then back at him (except Michael who's still staring at his mums breasts) and then start arguing.

dirty pillows..."

One of the ladies (who cares which, they're all annoying) strops off and almost instantly gets killed by a knife wielding carnie zombie (unusual but quite nice).

Scarily he's not even the brightest one, I mean these zombies can actually plan attacks, use weapons and climb walls!

This skill is particularly useful when attacking the (still fairly hot) maid whom the undead horde manage to pin thru' an upstairs window and behead with a large scythe, which was unexpected to say the least.

Zombie Flesh Eaters? - Never heard of her.

Whilst all this is going on, Lothario man decides that the best course of action is to let the zombies into the house whilst the survivors hide in the pantry (do houses still have pantries?) sobbing like babies.

Surprisingly all the survivors think this is a great plan, except Michael that is who has an even  better idea.

You see he reckons now would be the best time to try and shag his mum.

Tom Cruise: the high waisted years.

Not knowing anything about shagging mums (well, not my own anyway) I'm quite sure (tho' I could be mistaken) that grabbing her breasts and trying to stick your tongue in her mouth isn't the way to go about it.

Unluckily for Michael this is just the smooth move he uses on her.

Unsurprisingly his mum freaks out a wee bit and throws another shoe at him screaming "Get out!" (it's becoming a habit) and Michael waddles off, only stopping to get bitten by a zombie.

Poor boy.

The survivors are faced with another difficult choice:

A. Run in the direction of the cars and drive away.


B. Run past the cars into the woods blindly waving your arms about going "AAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!"

Which choice will they make?

Will they drive to safety or encounter a monastery full of black cloaked zombies?

Will Michael return from the grave to be met by his terrified mother or will she try to breast feed him in the most uncomfortable scene ever filmed?

The answer may be yes to the last one by the way.

Rush out and buy Burial Ground (or The Zombie Dead as the cheapo Vipco release calls it) and find out.

A bloody (not shitey) mooth
earlier today.

For all it's faults (including abysmal acting, paper thin characters, inept plotting, joke shop zombies etc.) Burial Ground is possibly one of the most entertaining films ever made, mostly down to Peter Bark's portrayal of the freaky mummy fixated Michael.

I mean whoever thought a 25 year old pot-bellied dwarf in a wig and nipple high trousers would make a convincing 12 year old deserves a medal for the sheer audacity of suggesting it.

He wanders around the film like some scary clockwork Dario Argento doll, either staring at his mums breasts or just staring into camera.

For what seems like hours at a time.

But his moment of triumph comes in the films closing moments; surrounded by the undead and with no means of escape the zombie Michael is welcomed by his open bloused mum to have some "mother's milk..."

Frankly I don't have the words and you won't either when you brave The Nights of Terror.......because you know you want to.

Cinematic gold.

*This is the best obviously.

Tuesday, April 27, 2021

looks familiar.

Part The First.

Tuesday, April 13, 2021

stand by for action!

Celebrating the genius of Gerry Anderson on his birthday with 60 minutes of Spectrum Sounds and  Terrahawk tunes in one mighty Mysteron mix.....



Saturday, April 3, 2021

baked being.

It's Easter Sunday.

This film is set on Easter Sunday.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ain't that always the way?

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

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


"Are you looking at my bra?"

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

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

Taggart this ain't.

Whom I kidding it's not even Scots Squad.

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

Who says romance is dead?

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fucker must be really fit.

Or Pottsville has really short days.

Either works for me.

Martin Landau tries to count the cost of his divorce.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could this be related?

Frankly by this point I don't care.

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

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

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

Never mind.

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

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

Which is nice.

If totally irrelevant to the plot.

"Put it in me!"

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

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

To death.

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

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

Could Michael be the beast after ingesting radioactive goo?

Was he mutated in the womb due to contaminated water?

Was he the creatures first victim?

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

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

Guns to kill a creature that can turn into liquid.

Go figure.

"Laugh now!"

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

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

Same shit, different smell.

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

I must be getting soft in my old age.

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

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

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

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

Tunnel or funnel?

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

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

Sub-atomic bare arsed genius.

Thursday, April 1, 2021

kaiju kuts.

 Celebrate the release of Godzilla Vs Kong with nearly 60 minutes of Gojira grooves, Kaiju cuts and massive monster mixes.

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

more mooncup.

After rewatching the frankly fantastic The Man From Planet X I immediately (well almost immediately, I had a wee first) went online to see if there had ever been a sequel or the like and to find out who owns the rights because let's be honest it deserves a remake.

In a bizarre bit of (fearful) symmetry - seeing as it was rediscovering my Robot Monster strip that made me watch it - I discovered that Fawcett Publications actually produced a comic adaptation of the movie in 1952 (which actually ain't too shady).

Not only that tho' but after even more digging I found that way back in 1975 top scribe Hunter Adams (AKA Jack Lancer, AKA Jim Lawrence) penned a three book series chronicling the further adventures of The Man From Planet X.

Excitedly I scurried to Ebay to find the books and after a few weeks (and a large part of the kids college fund) they arrived at Unwell Towers.

So imagine my surprise upon reading them when I realised that they had absolutely fuck all to do with the film but were actually a series of sexy stories about some bloke named Peter Lance,  who although looking human was in fact an alien from the planet Tharb named Pritan Lansol, sent to Earth to study our customs and learn more about us before his race finally announce their presence.

Obviously being aliens they have absolutely no concept of sex so to discover more about it the alien leader, Dr. Kraag, sends Lansol to Earth to look into it.

Obviously this involves him bedding as many beautiful women as possible and all in the name of science.

Sounds legit.

Invariably he ends up involved in spy rings, human trafficking and the like  forcing him to  use his amazing physical prowess, telepathic abilities, and alien technology to defeat the bad guys and save the damsel.

Before having some more of 'the sex' with them obviously.

And whilst this may seem a tiring proposition to us mere mortals, it turns out that the planet Tharb is actually the size of  Jupiter (tho' not alas Uranus) with a similarly immense gravity meaning that the muscles of its people are tremendous compared to Earthlings.

Obviously this means that Lance is able to 'perform' for hours and hours.

If all this wasn't manly enough Lance also freelances for the CIA on a part-time basis, investigating such mysteries as:

The She-Beast.

An exciting sexcapade involving an old hag who needs an experimental drug called Novitol in order to continue to look young and beautiful, therefore being able to continue having sex.
Unfortunately the company that manufactured it has just been bought by a rich industrialist who wants to cease its production so the old hag attempts to kill him.

Luckily Lance is shagging the guys daughter so steps in to help.

Tiger By The Tail.

When Lance rescues a beautiful young (nude) woman from a tiger attack - as you do - he finds himself in the middle of an attempt by a cabal of bad men trying to acquire a secret weapon known as C.O.D. AKA Crack of Doom.

The Devil To Play.

A rash of muggings and rapes in Manhattan can be connected (as is usually the way) to a group of Satanic worshipers who intend on controlling the oil industry by kidnapping a woman who has created a synthetic oil formula.

Unfortunately, on account of them being utter shite, Lawrence (who for years scripted the James Bond newspaper strip, eventually creating more adventures than any other writer including Ian Fleming) called it a day after book 3 and returned to writing Tom Swift Jr. (as Victor Appleton II) and The Hardy Boys Adventures (as Franklin Dixon) before going on to co-create two highly complex adventure games for the Infocom series in the 80s.

Shit! That means this computer is made entirely out of your dad's arse!


As an aside, all this talk of the 80s got me thinking, does anyone else remember/care that the 1962 classic Creation of The Humanoids was bizarrely feature on the inside sleeve of the Bronski Beat album Age of Consent?

This was quite possibly due as much to it being Andy Warhol's favourite SciFi movie as well as it's plot regarding forbidden love and the like.

Caught up with it again recently and surprisingly it still stands up well.

Tho' that's probably because all the sets are really thick cardboard.

Creation of The Humanoids (1962)
Dir: Wesley Barry.
Cast: Don Megowan, Erica Elliot, Frances McCann, Don Doolittle, George Milan, Dudley Manlove and David Cross.

Was She One Of The Green-Blooded People?

The place: A future Earth.

The time: Just after lunch where a nasty (let's be honest,is there any other kind?) nuclear war has resulted in the total extermination of 92% of the human race and left the remaining survivors riddled with radiation poisoning, scabs and bad teeth meaning the prospect for humanity surviving via the medium of having 'the sex' looking very grim.

To keep civilization ticking over smoothly, the remaining humans go into overdrive building over a billion robots to handle all the everyday jobs (bin men, STV voiceover announcers, working in the off licences, saying "In a world...." at the start of trailers etc.) and over the years these automatons have been constructed to emulate humans more and more, eventually becoming sentient and possibly even more human than their human 'masters'.

As is usual in situations like this, a nasty group of bad men (somewhat kinkily) named the “Order of Flesh and Blood” push for a ban on these human looking machines (know bizarrely as 'clickers') insisting that any new robots must be bald, blue and dressed in boiler suits left over from Brian Tilsley's garage.

Which is fair enough I guess.

The situation goes from bad to worse tho' when one such clicker goes a wee bit mental, killing his creator Dr. Mike Raven (Doolittle, best know for his sterling performance as a DA in a 1971 episode of Hawaii Five -O) to death.

Robot hater, founder member of the Order and all round rugged tough guy Kenneth Cragis (Blazing Saddles gum chewer himself, Megowan) suggests a solution to the problem.

Kill all the clickers.

Kill them a lot.

Which is nice.

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

The rest of the group think this may be a wee bit extreme and start to distance themselves from 'crazy' Cragis, who decides to go visit his sister Esme (McCann from fuck all else) for a few days of bitching and badness.

Unfortunately upon arriving at her house our racist rebel-rouser is surprised - and oh-so slightly annoyed - to find that Esme has become 'involved' in the state of 'rapport' with a robot named Pax (The Magic Swords Sir Pedro of Spain himself, Cross).

And what, you may ask, is 'Rapport'?

Well 'Rapport' occurs when a robot and a human begin to share the same mindset and the humans every desire is instantly understood by the robot partner and immediately fulfilled.

Which if I'm honest isn't as rude as it sounds really.


Shocked and upset Cragis storms off to his fantastic plastic bachelor pad for a tearful wank and a pot noodle.


Hanson have let themselves go.

Even this small solace is interrupted tho' when the beautiful (and very 60s breasted) Maxine Megan (Elliott from, um, Peter Gunn) appears out of the blue and falls into his arms.


After a whirlwind romance - plus shedloads of cheesy B-grade SciFi dialogue - Cragis and Maxine stumble across a secret that will shake their beliefs to the very core and my explain the terrifying secret of the Creation of The Humanoids...

Looked at from a purely production point of view Creation of The Humanoids is a cheaply made, warehouse bound 'B' flick populated by bald-pated, blue toned men with acting as stilted as the wooden slats pretending to be a futuristic laboratory and talky to a point where you can imagine that writer Jay Simms originally envisaged this as a stage production, the whole threadbare endeavor is  topped off by a particularly lurid poster design and not much else.

But look passed all this and you'll find a quirky and intelligent lo-fi movie that's ideas pre-date many of the themes and concepts that would go on to dominate books and movies under the 'cyberpunk' banner more than two decades later.

Yup, it's basically Blade Runner 2049 but with sturdier underwear.

I'd better stop now before someone mistakes this for a real film blog.