Sunday, October 11, 2020

dick dastardly.


 


 

31 days of horror day 11 (thought I'd remind you just in case you'd forgotten) and realized that I hadn't covered the fantastic found footage genre yet (or have I? I really can't be arsed checking).

I then remembered that I found Devil's Due behind the sofa a few months back with a note saying I should review it.

Obviously by this point someone had spilt something down the sofa so the letter was all smudged so I've absolutely no idea who sent it or why but if someone is kind enough to give me free stuff I should be polite enough to watch it.

As you can guess, this attitude has gotten me into a shed load of trouble over the years.

Anyway, having a quick check online it turns out that it is in fact a found footage movie (huzzah) from 2014, directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett and starring Allison Miller, Zach Gilford, and Sam Anderson.
 

Plus the poster looked scary/sexy - delete as applicable.


As a bonus it has the word Devil in the title so it might fit into this whole 31 days thing.

Then again it might not.

Frankly by this point I've really stopped caring.

It's not all been a waste of time tho' as I've come to realize that sometimes more than one film can have the same title.

Who knew?

Devil's Due (1973).
Dir: Ernest Danna.
Cast: Cindy West, Andrea True, Davey Jones, Lisa Grant, Jamie Gillis, Andrea True, Gus Thomas (or is it?), Tina Russell, Marc Stevens, Darby Lloyd Rains and Georgina Spelvin and the Devil.

"My plans to teach sex education
were rejected by the parents!"



Brunette, big socked cutesy pie Cindy (West AKA Cherry Aims, Helen Highwater, Judy Otis, Terry Ruggiera, Linda Terry, Tania Tittle and Tammy Twat) is a sweet, shy (and more importantly) virginal high school senior cursed with a crushing shyness when it comes to even taking to the opposite sex.

Deciding it's his duty to help her overcome her fears the school principal (under the pretense of helping Cindy rehearse her valedictorian speech decides to drug the shy sweetie before man-handling her peachy bum, putting his (frankly massive) cock in her mouth and finally having the full sex with her.

And all this whilst pulling what I can only imagine is your granddads cum face.

Sore arsed, addicted to drugs and pregnant, it looks like things couldn't get any worse for poor Cindy.

I mean at least her loving boyfriend Willie Joe (Jones, from Seven Delicious Wishes and Maxine's Dating Service but not alas The Monkees) will stand by her wont he?

Um, no is the short answer leaving our heroine to look out her best buddy Barbie (Grant...like it matters) to cry on.

And of course, her loving dad who would never be such a sexist pig.

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

Yup, Cindy arrives home to find Barbie and her dad engaged in some of that crazy 'mouth/penis sex', the shock of which causes Cindy to become mute.

"That'll wash the taste of shite oot ya mooth hen!"



Cue the patented wibbly wobbly fading device and we end up at the New York Port Authority Bus Terminal (and not lying face down trying to slash our wrists as any sensible viewer would be at this point) as a beleaguered Cindy stomps off the bus uttering the immortal lines " Everything I knew to be decent and good turned out dirty and evil."

Could things get any worse?

Either on screen or off?

Well Cindy answers a flat share ad place by two wacky lesbians named Dawn (generously chested ginger bird True AKA Catherine Warren, star of such classics as The Erotic Adventures of Little Orphan Sammy, director of the fanny-tastic Once Over Nightly and singer of the mid-seventies disco anthem 'More, More, More') and Nicky (plain Rains from The Teenage Sexmaids and The Hooker's Convention) who, in their spare time "Work for the devil." 

Impressed by their candor (and huge seventies bushes) a still mute Cindy hastily scribbles that she too wishes to be initiated into the coven.

Licking their lips the luscious lesbians agree.

The only Cindy West Google could find....
I think it might be the wrong one.


Blindfolded and taken to a deserted warehouse, Cindy is forced to strip naked (no change there then) and lie on a grubby altar hastily constructed from cardboard boxes and an old kitchen table whilst a gaggle of drunk, manbreasted extras in hoods (including horse-cocked dead porn legend Jamie Gillis) light candles and mumble.

Better the devil you know.


It's then that the evil, white robed and tennis shoed cult leader Kampala (who according to the credits is played by one Gus Thomas but I'm pretty damn sure it's a half cut Sonny Bono) appears, sitting in a crappy wicker garden chair shouting such classic lines as "I am all powerful! The spirit of Satan flows through my shaft!" before popping a dog collar around Cindy's neck and shooting his load onto her breasts.
Cindy, as you can probably understand, is not too impressed by Kampala and his so called 'devil cock' (which to be honest is the size of a shriveled walnut) and angrily lectures Dawn and Nicky on the evils of men.

Surely being lesbians tho' they probably know all about that already?

"I got you babe....tied to a table".

"Just like all the other men who've tried to destroy my life he's just a dirty animal!" Cindy cries before deciding that the thrilling threesome should destroy Kampala and take over the coven.

But not until they've indulged in some celebratory lesbian sex.

Hurrah!

Your mum and dad's wedding.


The following Thursday (which as everyone knows is Devil Day) dawn interrupts kampala's weekly wankfest with what is probably the most well written piece of dialogue I have Ever heard.

"Kampala! You’re about as powerful as your prick. Which isn't very powerful at all!"

Gripping stuff.

Shocked, stunned and fiddling uncomfortably with his by now flopping cock Kampala confronts Dawn regarding her nasty comments but our heroine has an ace up her sleeve (well if she were wearing anything she would so it's possibly stuck up her ample arse), she challenges Kampala to a satanic sex duel.

For those of you unlucky enough to have never been involved in one of these, this means that Cindy must dance provocatively in front of Kampala whilst he has to do his best to resist her charms.

But if he falls prey to her sweaty lady parts he loses the challenge and his top spot in the coven as well as most likely his wicker chair too.

Straddling Kampala whilst jiggling her breasts in time to a saucy salsa beat it's not long before the stony faced cultist can no longer control his base urges, he bites down on Cindy's left (left where? behind the bins?) boob before ejaculating his last and dying.

Just to make sure there'd be no rematch Cindy had covered herself in deadly poison oils before the ritual.

Now that's girl power.

But wait!

That's not all.

It seems that by finally overcoming the badness of man has enable Cindy to speak again!

And her first words?

To declare herself the high priestess of devilishness before leading her new found followers in a demonic orgy of satanic shagging.

Don't you just love a happy ending?


An apology if he's lucky.


From the pen (well crayons) of part-time writer and full time kitchen salesman Gerry Pound and director Ernest Danna (the man who gave us Like Mother, Like Daughter and My Husband, The Producer) comes this mighty fine example of the wholly seventies phenomena of cross genre porn.

No jokes, no irony, no mercy. Just ninety minutes of flaccid cock, unshaven fanny and the chance of a quick glimpse of some struggling bit-part actors genital warts as he thrusts manfully into whichever poor 'actress' has gotten of the bus this week looking for her chance of stardom.

I don't know about you but they're the things that keep me going back to this particular brand of seventies porn.

Well that and the fact that I've still not seen the one my dad's in.

And if that's not good enough an excuse you can always convince yourself that you're only watching for a glimpse of legendary porn goddess (and one of the officially voted
top 25 Adult stars of all time) Georgina Spelvin in an early role as 'Cult Member'.

See? this place isn't just entertaining, it's educational too.

A simple thanks would be OK next time tho', no more shite like this I mean I think I may have caught crabs from just reading the box.

Tomorrow some arse free 'orror.

Probably.

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