looney tunes.

Almost at the end of the whole 31 Days of Horror thing and realised I'd yet to feature a spooky portmanteau horror yet and as a spooky coincidence would have it the twins ended up watching this last week as they're trying to find a movie to show at their Halloween party.

So here you go.

Asylum (AKA House of Crazies, 1972).
Dir: Roy Ward Baker.
Cast: Peter Cushing, Britt Ekland, Robert Powell, Herbert Lom, Barry Morse
Patrick Magee, Charlotte Rampling, Barbara Parkins, Ann Firbank, Sylvia Syms, James Villiers, Megs Jenkins, John Franklyn-Robbins and Geoffrey Bayldon.

“Working with the mentally disturbed... can lead to a breakdown. ”

The slight of hip and pretty of lip former boot maker Doctor Martin (onetime Jesus and father of Enoch -  Powell) has been invited to the famed Cleftpate asylum for an interview regarding the job of head of mentalism.

Which I've been told is an actual medical term and not something I randomly made up.

After acing the first round of questions and nailing the team-building exercise Martin's prospective boss Dr Paul Rutherford (screech-voiced 70s stalwart Magee, who appears to come with his own wheelchair, which probably saved Stan a few quid when they made A Clockwork Orange) has decided that in order to make sure he's the right man for the job he must take one more unusual test.

You see, it appears that Rutherford's associate, Dr Freddie Starr, has developed a dual personality after being hit on the head with a swingball during garden time and is now housed upstairs alongside all the 'proper' mentalists.

“If you can recognise who is - or was - Dr Starr, I’ll give you the job” announces Rutherford as Mark O'Toole plucks a funky bass-line in the background.

Barbara Parkins was unimpressed by the size of Richard Todd's chopper.

Making his way to the Wacky Wing - and admiring some badly drawn pictures showing the history of mental health along the way - he's soon greeted by the hospital's chief  orderly Max (Catweazle himself, Bayldon), who quickly introduces him to the first of the four patients he must interview in order to find the disturbed doc, a wild haired woman named Bonnie.

It seems that Bonnie (Valley of The Dolls star Parkins) was having a torrid affair (tho' not as torrid as his wallpaper it must be said) with a slick-haired, middle aged banker named Walter (Dambusters and Doctor Who star Todd), whose love for nipple revealing shirts and camp cravats is only matched by his hatred of his well to do wife Ruth (screen legend Sims, who's been in loads of stuff that I frankly can't be arsed typing).

When not busy reminding Walter that she's rich and that he'd be nothing without her Ruth keeps herself busy studying voodoo with “a black charlatan” (not Tim Burgess then) at the local community centre - as you do - and has decided that today's the day to show of her new magical bracelet to her husband.

Which is pretty bizarre seeing as today is also the day that Walter has decided to rid himself of Ruth once and for all.

As opposed to twice and for a bit obviously.

Your dads cum face - trust me I know.

And how does he plan to do this? I hear you cry.

Well by taking her down to the cellar to show her the new chest freezer he’s bought (from Glens, Hutchison. Robertson and Stepek no doubt) before surprising her with an axe to the face, then chopping her up, wrapping the body parts in brown paper and finally popping them in the aforementioned freezer - alongside the spooky voodoo bracelet obviously.

Everything seems to be going swimmingly but as Walter heads upstairs to pour himself (another) large brandy he notices that his wife's - still parcelled - severed head has followed him up the stairs.

Spooky biscuits.

Some time later Bonnie arrives at the house and noticing the smell of fresh gammon emanating from the cellar goes to investigate.

Slowly opening the freezer lid she's - fairly - shocked to find her beloved tucked in behind the carrots.

Which is nice.

As she turns to leave tho' Bonnie is confronted by the horrifying (well I say horrifying but I mean ludicrous) sight of Ruth's paper wrapped body parts trundling menacingly toward her.....

Doc Martin - not this one.

Back in the real life Dr Martin is convinced Bonnie was talking bollocks (as the medical professionals say) and hurries along to see the next patient, an elderly tailor named Bruno (Space: 1999s Professor Bergman himself, Morse) who spends his days sitting on a table pretending to sew trousers for celebrity game show contestants.
Cue a wibbly wobbly dissolve that that's us from the asylum to a dreary backlot at Shepperton where the aforementioned Bruno is struggling to keep his business afloat as his uncaring landlord Stubbins (Franklyn-Robbins who was in lots of really good stuff during his career but we know as the jester-hatted Timelord that sends The Doctor on his mission in Genesis of The Daleks) keeps turning up and demanding the rent.

Bastard.

Enter (gently after a long bout of sweet foreplay) the enigmatic Mr Smith (Cushing), who offers to pay Bruno a small fortune to make a special shiny suit for his son who, by the look of the material is about to start touring as a Nik Kershaw tribute act.

However, there are certain rules that Bruno must adhere to in order to get paid - he must only work on the suit after midnight and stop at dawn and he must do it whilst wearing his wife's underwear.*

“I happen to believe in astrology” exclaims Smith in the way of an explanation.

And with that he leaves the shop.

Sapphire and Steel investigate Brexit.

Starting work on the suit right away, as his wife Anne (Firbank - most famous around here for turning up at the end of The Rise of Skywalker to ask Rey who she is) dutifully brings him copious amounts of coffee and biscuits (Rich Tea, thanks for asking) he almost immediately breaks Smith's rules and carries on sewing after the deadline only to prick his finger on a needle - looking on in mild horror as the blood mysteriously disappears into the fabric.

Don't worry tho' as contrary to Smith's wishes this will have absolutely fuck all effect on the outfit.

Or the climax of the story.

Finishing the suit in record time he excitedly takes takes a cab to Smith's house, rubbing his knees with glee at the thought of all that lovely money but alas everything is not how it seems as Smith is actually totally skint - spending his fortune on the magic pattern book in order to bring his (very dead) son back to life.

This has actually happened to me with art commissions so I can totally understand why Bruno gets a wee bit annoyed and refuses to hand over the suit.

Smith counters this by pulling out a gun and screaming “Give me that suit!”at Bruno and a (very slow) struggle ensues climaxing in Smith accidentally shooting himself and Bruno (not accidentally) stealing the magic book.

As you would.

Nigel Mansell: He's got something to put in you.

Returning home Bruno explains the whole sorry situation to his wife before instructing her to burn both the suit and the book but Ann has other ideas and decides to dress Brian, the shop window dummy she chats to everyday (which is news to both us and her hubbie as it's never been mentioned before) in the smart new supernatural togs....

With absolutely no loin-stirring at the sight of Barry Morse's bouncy manboobs Dr Martin stands dejected, wondering if he should have just applied for a job at Wimpy Burgers instead but his spirits are soon lifted by the smell of sophistication and strawberries emanating from the next room, so with an added spring in his step he heads off to investigate the next patient.

And it's in that room that Martin comes across (not in that way, well not yet - she's a classy lady who would probably want dinner first) the lovely Barbara (the even lovelier Rampling - ask your granddad) - a young and with it woman with a dark secret....

Peter's stiffie.

You see (well you would be if you were watching) after being locked away in Shady-nook for the last year due to suffering from 'the mentalism', Barbara is traveling back to her family home alongside her sharp-suited brother George (Villiers from For Your Eyes Only and Crown Court amongst other classics).

 Although happy to be home she's not too enamored at the thought of having a nurse tell her what to do and when to go to bed and has no sooner sat on her bed than is planning her escape.

A plan that may or may not involve poisoned tea, multiple scissor stabbings, ladies in 70s style suits and split personalities....

Strawberries.

Finding that he's in desperate need of the toilet, Martin makes his excuses ("You're talking bollocks hen!") and proceeds to the final room where his next patient, Doctor Byron (Pink Panther star and former Star Wars bounty hunter Lom) sits busying himself making slightly shady looking wind-up tin robots in which, he claims, he can capture peoples souls.

Starting with his own.....

Tunnel or funnel?

Will Dr Martin choose the right patient and get his dream job?

Will Byron end up marketing his tin toys to unsuspecting kids and start the Transformers range 15 years too early?

And will there be a spooky twist ending that begs the question 'who is the real mentalist?'

From those genre stalwarts at Amicus Films (and sometimes AARU Productions if the Daleks - or more importantly Joe Vegoda and his cash - were involved), the late great Milton Subotsky and Max Rosenberg comes another classically creepy portmanteau horror that is less about scares and shocks and more to do with being a Saturday night rite of passage for those of us (just) the wrong side of 50.

And let's be honest our appreciation of all things horror is much better because of them.

Between 1965 and 1974 the pair released a cornucopia of creep filmed classics including the sublime Dr. Terror's House of Horrors (1965), the carnie-courting Torture Garden, The House That Dripped Blood, the original Tales from the Crypt, Vault of Horror, From Beyond the Grave and Asylum cementing the companies reputation as the perfect pair for part-work horrors featuring the cream of British - and sometimes American - talent (oh yes and Robert Hutton).

And you can't get much bigger than casting the son of God in the headlining role can you?

OK so this is a pre-Jesus (but just post-Doomwatch) Robert Powell but he's still pretty good, as is the ever twitchy Patrick Magee who alongside  Geoffrey Bayldon make the wraparound story watchable for their performances alone.

The rest of the cast ain't too shady either with the likes of Barry Morse, Richard Todd and Herbert Lom, alongside the likes of Britt Ekland and Charlotte Rampling and the ever present Peter Cushing, seriously it's worth watching for them alone.
Sorry, can you tell I'm a fan?

Well it's either that or lockdown has mellowed mea wee bit.

What sets Asylum apart from the rest tho' is it's unrelenting bleakness and distinct lack of (intentional) comic book style humour that permeates thru' the majority of Amicus' output, Asylum, alongside Vault of Horror and From Beyond the Grave, are the companies attempts at 'serious' horror with nary a giggle on show.

Well except for Richard Todd's way too tight shirt obviously.

Oh yes and bits of a shop window dummy wrapped in brown paper 'menacing' Barbara Parkins.

And maybe the living mannequin.

And those pound shop soul robots.

Other than that it's fucking terrifying.

Mostly.

"Fiona! Look at me! I'm from Dudley!"

Written - like everything else Amicus released at the time by one-shock pony Robert (I wrote Psycho) Bloch at his pulpy best and with a score that utilities every loud piece of music Modest Petrovich Mussorgsky ever composed, Asylum is a by the book (and damn near perfect) example of why when it came to anthology 'orror - Amicus were king.

Don't worry, I'll be back to slagging stuff off next time.





























*This last bit is a lie, sorry.

dance macabre.

Our 31 Days of Horror countdown continues with this little gem from Italy.

Well that was short and to the point.

Enjoy.

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

Save the last dance . . . for hell!

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

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

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

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

Just saying.

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


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


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

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


Quite literally in some cases.*

"Tissues in mah mooth!"

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

As you do.

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

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

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

What a guy.

 

Hands up if you think this blog is shite.

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

Seems legit.

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

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

And not just by the sleazy librarian Mr Chisholm.

But I digress.

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

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

Because being a pedo isn't dark enough obviously.

"You may feel a tiny prick."

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

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

Phew!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And for that we must thank him.

Forever.

Five fingers, never touched the side.

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

As well as those already mentioned - Olga (Zombie Flesh Eaters and later Prince's mum in Purple Rain) Karlatos, Cosimo (Manhattan Baby) Cinieri, the late great Claudio (Island of The Fishmen) Cassinelli, Geretta (Rats) Geretta, Al Cliver (and beard) in an uncredited cameo and Ray Lovelock - there are also top turns from such Euro superstars as Giovanni (The Beyond) de Nava and the scarily sexy red head Silvia (House By The Cemetery) Collatina of whom I used to wish would move in next door to me as a kid so we could fight zombies together.

Look, I was only 13 and had no friends except for horror films.

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

No seriously.

*Case in point:

the entrance of uranus.

No witty introduction today because frankly I can't be arsed.

 

The Red Monks (1988).
Dir: Gianni Martucci.
Cast: Gerardo Amato, Lara Wendel (meow), Malisa Longo, Chuck Valenti, Claudio Pacifico, Mary Maxwell, Gaetano Russo and Ludovico Della Jojo.

The Garlini family are one of those unlucky enough - but quite common according to Eurotrash cinema - to have some kinda curse that gets visited on generation after generation.

Unlike most movie curses which seem to involve Werewolves or hidden torture chambers the Garlini one appears to concern a violin playing old woman and a nude, turban headed lady with a predilection for jogging.

Takes all sorts I guess.
But enough scene-setting let's get on with the film good and proper and focus our attentions on a groovy young fella-my-lad about town (in a snazzy Burton's suit) has just noticed the aforementioned - naked - jogger running around his garden so decides to call out to her (as you would), being a typical woman she ignores his cries and heads into his house.

Result.

Following her indoors and down into the house's sprawling basement the nameless bloke finds this dusky beauty standing with her back to him giving him plenty of time to take in her curves whilst admiring her hairy back and ample arse.

But before you can say 'up the casino' the mysterious Miss slowly turns around and with sword in hand beheads the poor sod.

Ouch.

A lady reading a newspaper in an extremely natural way yesterday.

Worried that the confusion and strangeness of the scene may caused our tiny minds to explode a scary voiceover man suddenly breaks the silence and whilst sexily intoning "fifty years earlier" snaps us back to reality.

Which comes as a blessed relief for us mere mortals after experiencing so much terror so early in the proceedings.

Luckily we're still in the grounds of the house so it's not too much of a challenge to figure out what's happening plus we still have a hunky man in the garden, only this time he has a name.

And quite a sexy physique.

Ladies and gentlemen (especially ladies) please be upstanding for 'Big' Bob Garlini (Disperatamente Giulia's Amato) who whilst busily tending to the rose bushes comes across (not in that way) a foxy woman - dressed as a dinner lady for reasons only known to the director - stuck up a tree being barked at by his hairy dog.

Which in itself is a bit bizarre because the woman in question is played by Lara Wendel, who also gets snapped at by a big dog in Dario Argento's Tenebrae.

No idea if that's related tho'.

Sorry.

Wendel: In bed with me dinner (lady).

Being hunky and spunky Bob convinces Ramona (for that is her name) to jump out of the tree and into his manly arms just before the rubber joke shop spider that's glued to one of the branches 'bites' her.

As she falls into his arms their eyes meet and it's love at first sight.

Whirlwind romance and marriage follow, which would be all well and good if not for Bob's dark secret.

And you'll never guess what it is.

Tho' the clue is in the films title.

Yup, that's right, Bob has a cellar chock full of spooky red monks intent on having his new bride sacrificed to them within four days.

But that's not all because for the sacrifice to work she has to remain a virgin.

Now how's he gonna explain this to his nan?

As you would expect, this puts a wee bit of pressure on the poor guy on his wedding night, forcing him to leave Ramona lying spreadeagled on the bed with a look of saucy intent in her eyes whilst he paces around the garden in a housecoat.

Poor Ramona ends up spending the night propped up in bed reading Take A Break magazine whilst scoffing chocolates all the time wondering if she should have just jumped out the tree and let the dog have her.

Which, if I'm honest would probably have been quite an interesting scene.

From an artistic viewpoint obviously.

To make matters worse, the next morning Bob is called away to an 'important business meetings' leaving his grumpier by the minute bride sitting at home getting the piss taken out of her by the housekeeper Priscilla (genre goddess Longo from oooohhhh loads of stuff including your granddad's bed) - who it turns out is having an affair with her hubbie.

It's like a gore filled version of Dynasty.

Your mum gets ready for parents night. And you wondered why your grades were so good.

It's not all bad tho' for Ramona's blonde haired haired, poppy eyed maid Lucille (Maxwell from Dirty Love II: Love Games) quickly strikes up a friendship with her, entertaining the new Mrs. Garlini with tours of the scary cellar to check out the handy guillotine kept hidden in there.

Deciding that spending her evenings skulking about in dank cellars is way more fun than watching the shopping channel whilst eating crisps, Ramona begins to enjoy her time searching the basement for goodies to sell at carboot sales so it's not too much of a surprise when one day after moving a particularly dusty commode that she finally comes across the red monks busily (and quite quietly) going about their basement based business.

Which would be freaky enough if she didn't suddenly wake up in bed half way thru' the chat.

Is she going mental?

Well her hubbie and housekeeper seem set on trying to convince her so.

Me? I just think she's a typical woman.

Hel-Met.

Lucille, being cool and full of girl power and sisterly love is having none of it tho' and tells Ramona that she did indeed go into the cellar that evening and that she isn't in fact going loopy after all.

Phew, that's OK then.

Luckily everything seems to be back to normal the next day - well, if you forget about the monks, the plot to send Ramona mad and think that the fact that her hubbie keeps eying up the housemaid is normal - so our lovebirds decide to enjoy a picnic in the garden, this romantic notion is oh so slightly spoiled however when Lucille's severed head pops out of the picnic hamper during the cheese selection.

Trying to make the best of a bad situation, Ramona reckons a wee bit of painting may calm her nerves, but would you credit it, that darned spider is back on the loose.

Wendel: Womanly perfection personified.

As if by magic (or perhaps because Wendel hasn't got her kit off yet) the arachnid attack is rudely interrupted by an unhealthily thin bloke with a stringy ponytail who gingerly swats the spider to one side before having some of 'the sex' with our heroine.

Fairly annoyed to begin with (he keeps dipping his cock in her water colours) Ramona finally gets into the groove as the youngsters say, hoisting up her dress and and going with the - sweetly sticky - flow.

I say flow but it's more of a thick, gooey mess if I'm honest.

After a few minutes (I'm being kind) of fiddly fun the mysterious stranger wipes his cock on Ramona's canvas and stands up. Not to be outdone in the romantic stakes our horny heroine quickly pops her pants in her pocket before arranging to meet the leathery Lothario for drinks in a local bar later that night.

Result.

Day soon turns to night and Ramona excitedly travels to the local pub for a pint, a plate of scampi and some excited chat.

But our horny hairy-man has a surprise for Ramona and after a few bags of pork scratchings and a bottle of house wine takes her to visit a stinky tramp with a comedy stick on beard.

But why? I hear you cry.

Well it appears that only he knows the full gory story of her hubbies house.

As Friends star Jennifer Aniston once said, pay attention, here's the science part.

Aniston: Five fingers, never touched the sides.

Coughing up a tasty bit of black lung the old man seductively whispers thru' his fishy beard "...it all began in the year 1426..." prompting the screen to go all wibbly wobbly (tracking's dodgy mate) before coming to focus on a pointy chinned man in tights drinking cheap wine.

Lord Lloyd Lodorisio (for that is he), being rich and bored spends his days hanging around with that group of red hooded monks from earlier getting into all kinds of scrapes, setting fire to phone boxes, making prank calls, graffiti-ing walls and the like much to the chagrin of the local populace.

Fair play to him I say.

The local church, understandably annoyed by all these unholy shenanigans decide to send a mysterious, black masked assassin to kill Lodorisio.

As you would in those circumstances.

"Is it in yet?"

After a - very slow - primary school style sword fight, the assassin ends up with the Lord's long blade wobbling scarily at his mouth (OK it's at his throat but that doesn't sound as rude), dropping to his knees and begs for mercy whilst the loopy Lorde stands astride him laughing like a loon.

Just as all seems lost Mr. Assassin sees his chance and sticks Lodorisio with his poisoned ring before tossing him off (the balcony) and hitting him repeatedly with a mace for good measure.

Ouch.

As was the law in the olden days, the assassin inherits not only Lord Lodorisio's lands but his sultry gypsy wife too, unfortunately tho' before he can drag her off to the bedroom she lays down a curse on him - and his descendants - forever.

Blimey.

If this wasn't a big enough revelation in itself (it's like 20 Christmas day episodes of EastEnders at once) it turns out that Ramona is apparently a descendant of that very same gypsy and it is her destiny to have revenge on Bob.

Taking it all in her stride (but not alas up the Khyber) she buys a sword from a local armorer and heads back home....

Bob in a monk house yesterday.

Will she behead her hubbie?

Will the fabled red monks do anything but stand about?

Who beheaded Lucille?

Is Ramona a ghost?

And why is Bob shagging the housekeeper when the cast includes both Wendel and Longo?

Is he mad?

One of these questions may be answered by the movies end.

Possibly.

"I Frati Rossi? All talkin' Scotch ain't they?"

From director/writer Gianni (Naked Girl Killed in the Park) Martucci comes this (very) loose remake of the Mario Bava classic Lisa And The Devil but minus that films suspense shocks and thrills obviously.

Well he had to find some way of making it different didn't he?

Longo: saucepot.

Produced by genre genius Lucio Fulci (whom I'm sure had a hand in casting showing the pedigree of the Eurohorror talent on screen) alongside an obviously feverish Pino Buricchi (the man who gave us Intimate Crimes and Cindy's Love Games amongst other gems), The Red Monks maybe be at times tedious with plot holes so big that you could comfortably reverse Dominic Cummings thru' without touching the sides but the classy cast and kooky creepiness ultimately win the viewer over.

Plus whenever you're feeling like ending it all rather than sit thru' another second of dodgily dubbed doomsaying, a pair of 70's breasts pop out of nowhere or a head rolls out of a hamper and suddenly you're transfixed again.

And before you know it you're hooked worse than your uncle Peter on the paperboy.

Recommended.

eating out.

Rewatched this last night as it featured a top turn from Cindy Leadbetter, who also appeared in the magnificent Rats: Notte Di Terrore that has already been featured in this years 31 Days of Horror.

So there.

 

Emanuelle E Gli Ultimi Cannibali (AKA Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals, Emanuelle's Amazon Adventure, Trap Them and Kill Them, Emanuelle Chez Les Cannibales 1977)
Dir: Joe D'Amato (who else?)
Cast: Laura Gemser, Donald O’Brien, Monica Zanchi, Susan Scott, Gabriele Tinti, Geoffrey Copleston, Annamaria Clementi, Cindy Leadbetter, Nieves Navarro, Percy Hogan, some cannibals.

Saucy sex minx Emanuelle (D'Amato regular Laura Gemser) has momentarily given up whoring for a living and is currently residing in New York, making her cash as an ace newspaper reporter famed for getting to the heart of gritty 'human interest' stories.

And her current assignment?

To expose an evil lesbian nurse.

But frankly is there any other kind?

Posing as a mentalist she enters (phnar) the hospital with plans to get her story by any means necessary, which in Emanuelle's case involves sneaking into patients rooms in the dead of night and masturbating the information out various incarcerated loons.

Whilst all the time carrying a doll with a camera hidden in its eyes.

I'll have to check with a journalist friend, but I'm pretty sure that isn't common practice but if it is the recent Owen Jones/Konstantin Kisin interview just got even more sinister.

The best performance in the whole movie.

After a night of finger-based fun, Emanuelle is surprised to see the nasty nurse she's supposed to be pursuing stumbling drunkenly from a patients room covered in blood from a bite wound on her chest.

Obviously there's only one course of action open to our heroine if she wants to find out what's happened.

That's right, she enters the room and gets right back into fiddling.

Whilst goosing the information out of the mad cannibal woman (played to perfection by Cindy "my illustrious career" Leadbetter) Emanuelle notices a strange (re: shite) tattoo hastily scrawled on the loopy ladies tummy and - using her free hand - gets a picture of it before legging it out of the asylum and heading straight over to her editors office.

Her editor is amazed, explaining to her (and us) that this tattoo proves the existence of a supposedly extinct stone-age cannibal tribe in the Amazon.

Who'd of thought it?

Well who apart from the incredibly drunk screenwriter obviously.

Intrigued by the thought of a gang of flesh eaters running an online shopping company Emanuelle decides to visit her old anthropologist buddie Dr. Mark - not the star of Oliver! - Lester (the exploitation genres very own George Clooney, Tinti), who tells her that the symbol belongs to one of the world’s last practicing cannibal tribes, tho' you'd think that they'd be pretty good at it by now.

Thanking him for useful history lesson with a quick bout of the sex, Emanuelle persuades Lester to lead an expedition to the Amazon to find the tribe.

"More bass!"

In no time at all, Lester and Emanuelle arrive in South America, first stopping off to visit an old colleague of his, Professor Wilkes (Copleston from almost every movie ever made) to get supplies - oh and have sex - (but not with the old bloke obviously) before being joined on their quest by the old man's daughter Isabel (top teen me tempting tottie Zanchi) and a random, tho' fairly sexy nun (Clementi). 

"Hello? Are you the blind man?"

Fueled (and fucked) up, our frisky foursome head off into the jungle (in reality D'amato's local garden centre) for an appointment with a mightily manbreasted missionary called Father Rick Morales, an expert on cannibals as well as God.

Which is nice.

Obviously with such a hazardous and long journey ahead of them, Emanuelle decides that it'd be best to stop every few miles for (even more) sex.

And with our luscious leading lady being a modern equal opportunities type, she makes sure that everyone gets to join in, flitting - and fondling - between the hunky Lester and the eager to learn Isabel. 

And it's during one of the movies many muff-fests that Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals' - or perhaps the whole of cinemas - greatest scene unfolds; the two ladies, whilst having a quick wash in a pond, begin fondling each other (in clinical close-up) whilst a chimpanzee sits watching them from the riverbank.

And all to a sexy jazz (mag) score.

If that  wasn't enough to cement D'Amato's place as a cinematic God tho' he pulls out all the stops by dressing the chimp in a pair of big sunglasses and forcing it to smoke a fag.

Genius on celluloid.

And before you write I, yes I am aware - as I'm sure dear Joe was, that Chimpanzees are African, not South American animals so there's probably a good reason for him being there.

Who knows there's bound to be a cut scene explaining that he was the planes co-pilot or something.

Possibly.

Just be grateful that Gemser doesn't try to have sex with it.

"Aye son!"

Bored with monkey - and master - baiting the pair soon come across (snigger) hardened adventurer Don MacKenzie (Dr. Butcher MD himself, Donald O’Brien) his Rula Lenska-like, big black cock obsessed wife Maggie (Navarro) and his 'handyman' (and owner of an aforementioned big black cock) Salvador Daley (Rent-A-Cop star Hogan).

It appears that the trio are determined to find the wreckage of a plane that went down (oooeeerr) in the jungle with a fortune in diamonds on board.

Unfortunately they have bad news concerning Morales mission; the Father is missing presumed lunch and all of the nuns have been massacred by cannibals.

Obviously no-one takes this news well and they all end up having a lot of sex in order to boost morale.

Except MacKenzie who goes to sleep.

Emanuelle struggles with a huge
(non trouser) snake. For a change.

Shagging their way across the Amazon basin for what seems like eternity, it's a blessed relief when the group are finally attacked by 'cannibals' (played with conviction by a dozen or so out of work Brazilian bin men in Beatles wigs) who, just to show how savage they really are steal Lester’s boat, most of the party’s supplies (including the cheese and onion flavoured condoms and KY jelly) and kidnap the pretty (non shagging) Nun.

Being nappy wearing primitive types tho' they have absolutely no idea what to do with her so end up tying her to a tree before stripping her naked and eating her whole.

No they don't spit that bit out.

It'll come as no surprise to find that everyone is a wee bit upset - oooh for literally minutes afterwards - by this but quickly cheer up when Don's aeroplane (with its cargo of diamonds) is found.

Celebratory sex all round then?

"Now this is podracing!"

Wouldn't you know it tho' but just as the frantic fucking is about to get interesting those kooky cannibals pop out from behind a bush and snatch Maggie.

Which is possibly much more painful than it sounds. 

 

Lester being the hunky hero type - and the only male member of the party who hasn't stuck it in her yet - hatches a plan to save her.

In any other movie this would be a great idea and possibly lead to an Indiana Jones style climactic chase.

With more bell ends obviously.

But alas this film was co-written by Romano (Zombie Holocaust) Scandariato, so this daring rescue attempt consists of Lester and Co. sneaking into the cannibal village disguised as wolves or something, sneaking up behind the cannibal chief and shouting 'look up there! it's Fred Titmus!' before grabbing Maggie and running back into the jungle.

 

I'm afraid to say - but not at all surprised - that it doesn't work.

Sex machine Salvador is quickly killed whilst Donald and Isabel taken captive leaving Lester limping about with a petted lip whilst Emanuelle sits around with the look of a woman who can't remember if she left the gas on.

Our heroines problems are of little consequence to poor Don tho' who suffers the indignity of being tied to a tree before being cut in half and forced to watch as his legs, arse and cock are scoffed by the greedy tribesmen which leaves him for all the world looking like a bizarro hand puppet.

Or it would if the whole shoddy effect wasn't achieved by Sellotaping a photocopy of the actor to a couple of rose bushes and quickly tearing it in half.

Meanwhile Isabel, being the first ginger the tribe have ever seen, has an even more convoluted fate awaiting her because being drugged, stripped naked and gang banged by the entire tribe is exploitative enough so to top it off the terrifying tree dwellers are planning to sacrifice the poor girl to their river goddess.

The official Ronco Douglas Bader
Washing Line: available now!

Have no fear tho' for it's Emanuelle's turn plan a rescue attempt and this one's a corker.

She quickly removes all her clothes before getting Lester to daub the tribe’s emblem on her belly (luckily she has a face painting kit with her).

Luckily Lester's a dab hand with a brush and before too long Emanuelle is made up to look the  spitting image of the aforementioned river goddess.

Now tell me in all seriousness that you saw that coming.

Pants.

Will Emanuelle be able to rescue Isabel in time?

Will they escape the tribes wrath?

And more importantly will they be able to fit any more shagging into the last 10 minutes of the movie?

Go on, guess.

"Look at me Emanuelle...I'm from Dudley!"

All hail the late, great Joe D'Amato as he spews forth another of his trademark ugly people having sex mixed with hard core gore 'epics' and again falls down the scary thematic thigh gap between the two genres.
 

It's not all bad tho', lovely Laura Gemser is always watchable and at least she can act, plus the amazing Monica Zanchi is far more attractive than the majority of D'Amato's female cast; all strawberry blonde locks, freckles and wide eyed innocence, looking for all the world like a cutesy librarian dropped naked into a cesspool of cannibal kinkiness.

Which is quite frankly the best description of a perfect woman as you'll ever find.

Damn you D'Amato springing Zanchi onto me as an innocent, horror loving teen.

I mean between her and Nastassja Kinski in Cat People is it any wonder it took me so long to find a girlfriend who lived up to such perfection?

As an aside I should point out that apart from being absolutely beautiful and a damn fine actress to boot Zanchi also performs the second best masturbation scene ever committed to celluloid in this very movie.

The best being Harvey Keitel's car window Nat West in The Bad Lieutenant obviously.

 

Seriously,  if you're in any way a serious film fan then Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals is worth viewing just for that scene alone because let's be honest, you're not watching it for the plot and realistic effects are you?

Well I am but that's to be expected.

Zanchi: I love her.

 And whilst it never manages to scale the dizzyingly daft heights of Erotic Nights of The Living Dead at least the sex scenes aren't as arse clenching as those featured in Emanuelle in America (no horses for one thing), the film does at least have a slightly more attractive, less warty cocked (stand up and be counted Percy Hogan) cast than is usual for a D'Amato movie and thankfully none of the animal cruelty that blights most cannibal flicks.

Because we all know that monkeys love to smoke.

And if nothing else at least you had to admire D'Amato for his perseverance.

coke zero.

A few years back I contributed some words (and pictures) to DEAD FUNNY : THE RISE OF THE ZOM-COM (which is still available by the way).

Celebrating 30 years of the zombie-themed comedy, it re-traced the path that led to Edgar Wright's benchmark 2004 production, Shaun Of The Dead and features overviews of such classics as Return Of The Living Dead, BrainDead, Bio-Zombie, amongst others.
 

 

One of the pieces I wrote for it concerns quite possibly THE greatest Jet Rock 'N' Roll film ever made.

So I thought I'd reshare it here as part of the whole 31 Days of Horror thing.

Ladies and gentlemen (and all those in between) I give you.....

Wild Zero (1999).
Dir: Tetsuro Takeuchi.
Cast:  Guitar Wolf, Drum Wolf, Billy Bass Wolf, Masashi Endô ,Makoto Inamiya, Sato Masao, Namiki Shiro, Kwancharu Shitichai, Nakajo Haruka and Morishita Yoshiyuki.

“Love has no borders, nationalities or genders! DO IT!”

The world's greatest Jet Rock 'N' Roll band, the frankly fantastic Guitar Wolf (Guitar Wolf, the late great Billy Bass Wolf and Drum Wolf - basically the holy trinity of Rock 'n' Roll greatness) have just finished playing a gig for the sinister shorted, pudding bowl haired, Karaoke obsessed 'Captain' (Inamiya from Zero Woman Returns) who being a bad man is refusing to pay our hard rockin' heroes on account of them stepping in when he was beating up a drugged lady a few scenes earlier.



Before the situation can escalate into mindless violence tho' (well just yet) the bands number one fan, the high haired Ace (Transformers: Beast Wars Metals Endô), stumbles into the office to ask for their autographs which gives the band time to pull out their guns and shoot their way out of the place.



As a thank you, the band's enigmatic front man, also named Guitar Wolf first becomes blood brothers with Ace before giving him a mysterious whistle which will alert the band if ever he needs their help.



And to think all I got last time I saw them live was a push to the ground when I tried to get my live DVD signed.



Rock 'N' Roll eh?

キャプテン私のキャプテン

And with that (and a loud howl obviously) the band disappear into the night.



The next day as Ace is heading to the next gig on his trusty moped minding his own business when he realizes that he needs petrol. Being a do-gooding reluctant hero type it'll come as no surprise that when he's queuing to pay (and buy a Snickers for the journey he manages to inadvertently foil a robbery but also save the sweetly naive (obvious) runaway Tobio (the pixie-like Shitichai) in the process.



Obviously it's love at first sight.



Or it would be if Ace wasn't late to see his heroes.



So blowing Tobio a kiss Ace heads off to the concert leaving his true love to hitch-hike home.



Or to wherever she's heading.



Which is straight into our hearts obviously.

Across town the Captain's men are out looking for Guitar Wolf but instead of finding of musical maestros they come across (not in that way) a gaggle of recently reanimated corpses out for flesh.



It appears that the dead are rising, intent on devouring the living and no-one is safe as Ace himself finds out when he runs across a group of zombies feasting on an ice cream man in the middle of the road.



Realizing that Tobio is defenseless and alone Ace hurriedly heads back to the gas station to save her.



Meanwhile the Captain is busying himself auditioning wee girls in Sailor Moon outfits to sing at his Karaoke bar.



Which is fair enough I guess.

私はゾンビがあなたに穴を食べると聞いた....彼らはそれを吐き出すかもしれないが！

If at this point you, like me were wondering what happened to the would-be robbers from earlier then fear not as we're soon back with them as they too fight against zombies, group politics and their own feelings for each other before teaming up with a tattooed, Burberry clad hitwoman (don't ask) in a Humvee and trying to find a safe place to hold out till help arrives.



Which after some broomhandle vs zombie action is what Tobio and Ace find themselves doing, hiding as they are in a deserted basement.



Overwhelmed by his feelings Ace opens his heart to Tobio and explains that  finding his one true love under such bizarre and deadly circumstances has strengthened his belief in faith and humanity before swearing his undying devotion to Her.



Overcome by such and outpouring of love Tobio tells Ace that she loves him too but has a secret she must share.



It appears that Tobio is, in fact, a fella.



Given his already slightly stressed demeanor, this news sends Ace over the edge and he storms of in a confused huff and boards himself up in a cupboard.



It's always darkest 'fore the dawn and the light that brightens this situation is a ghostly appearance from Guitar Wolf himself.



Explaining the situation to his hero Ace is soon brought to his senses by possibly the greatest speech regarding love and tolerance ever committed to celluloid as Guitar Wolf announces:

Beautiful.



Picking up a handy crow bar Ace screams out for Tobio as he heads off to save her.



Again.



Guitar Wolf meanwhile have problems of their own to deal with as the Captain angry at his minions incompetence has decided to take matters into his own hands and whilst using various members of the undead as (in)human shields is currently firing a grenade launcher at random objects in the hope of finding the band and destroying them.



I bet Bucks Fizz never had this trouble post Eurovision.

私が私を道に踏み出させたとき
私は乗るつもりです、乗る、乗るつもりです！
私が私を道に踏み出させたとき
私は乗るつもりです、乗る、乗るつもりです！
私が私を道に踏み出させたとき
誰もどこに行くべきか教えてくれませんか？いいえ！
私が私を道に踏み出させたとき
私は乗る、乗る、乗る、乗る、乗るつもりだ！

As the captain causes more and more property damage and loss of bladder control he hones in on an abandoned apartment block unleashing his entire explosive load into the building in one last attempt to crush the band.



Imagine his (and our) surprise then as out of the burning chaos leaps an unharmed Guitar Wolf , dropping to his knees and re-tuning his guitar as he lands before letting rip with some killer riffs.



Genius.



So the stage is set for a climactic battle between the forces of rock and rubbish fashions as the pair go head to head in a fight to the death.



As guns give way to fists our hero is fairly surprised when the Captain mutates into a bald super-powered mutant with laser eyes but just as Guitar Wolf looks about to be beaten Billy and Drum Wolf turn up with a handy bazooka, blowing the Captain to (ickle biddy) bits.

Phew.

Well it would be if suddenly from nowhere a fleet of UFO's didn't appear intent on destroying/enslaving the Earth......

A triumph of style, wit and substance over budgetary constraints, director Tetsuro Takeuchi's ode to true love, rock 'n' roll and high, high hair is quite possibly the greatest ever made.



Fact.



And whilst the audience may be drawn to the promise of zombies, aliens and rock 'n' roll the films true heart belongs to Ace and Tobio and the finest onscreen love story since Tony and Maria in West Side Story.



Tho' if I'm honest The Jets could probably give Guitar Wolf a run for their money if cornered.



And what of Japan's self proclaimed 'Greatest Jet Rock 'N' Roll Band'?



Well they're the leather clad, self deprecating glue that holds the whole thing together, part Elvis, part superhero team and all rock gods it's rare to see a bands energy and excitement actually captured on film so perfectly, artfully blurring the fine line 'tween reality and rocktastic fiction.

小さなギターのオオカミや巨人の足？

Referencing everything from Night Of The Living Dead to Mars Attacks! via the very best rollicking Rockabilly-fueled tunes Wild Zero is as unique as Ace's quiff is high and the world is a better place for it.



Complete and utter fun-filled genius and I love it.



And so should you.



ROCK 'N' ROLL!!!!!!