Tuesday, October 11, 2022

blobby sands.

Bloody hell this years 31 Days of Horror appears to be going really well for a change, no deaths threats (of yet) and no-one has complained about my blog 'making them feel threatened' or accused me of any bad thought crimes.

Well not for a fortnight anyway.

Maybe I should give up now before it all goes to shit.

The Sand (2015).
Dir: Isaac Gabaeff.
Cast: Brooke Butler, Cleo Berry, Cynthia Murell, Dean Geyer, Meagan Holder, Mitchel Musso, Hector David Jr., Nikki Leigh, Etalvia Cashin and Jamie Kennedy.

"I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."

It's spring break time and, as is the way of such things a large group of fit, tanned twenty-somethings are 'partying down' on a beach to generic dancey-trance bollocks.

The boys (well the hot ones) flex and show their muscles whilst actress cum model Nikki Leigh (being the only cast member with six - at least - Playboy photo shoots behind her) - in a pitch perfect portrayal of beach babe Marsha - gets her tits out.

Whilst all this drunken debauchery is going down partners in crime (but not by the look of one of their waistbands partners in cakes) Vance (David Jr.) and man mountain Gilbert (Berry) stroll into the party zone with what looks like a massive green, gooey testicle that they've come across (which would explain the slime) further up the beach.

Undeterred by such strange sights the party continues but not until all the guests have put their phones in a bag in case anyone gets filmed doing anything foolish.

Hopefully a monster wont attack them or something similar cos that means that they wont be able to call for help.

But what are the chances?

Do you remember chalk hearts melting on a playground wall. ... By the way didn't I break your heart? ... Kaylee is it too late to say I'm sorry?

Anyway, as the sun rises on a new day copper-bottomed cutie Kaylee (Butler who will be our heroine for the next ninety minutes) and mousey Mitch (Musso channeling a nervous hamster) awaken to find themselves cuddled up in the lifeguard station, whilst Kaylee's on/off boyfriend Jonah (Geyer) is happily snoozing in his car alongside the sultry Chanda (Holder, daughter of Slade singer Noddy), the aforementioned Vance and his girlfriend Ronnie (the scarily pillowed yet always watchable Murell from How I Met Your Mother).

Got that?

Good because these are the folk we're meant to be rooting for during the film.

Seriously it's like the bland leading the bland.

Luckily the director has decided to add a wee bit of colour to the proceedings by not only having Vance's portly pal Gilbert trapped in a barrel but persuading Nikki to keep her top off whilst lying on a table.

So we're all winners if I'm honest.

Well except the other party goers obviously because they've all disappeared leaving behind a collection of sleeping bags, used condoms and beer cans.

Whilst shouting to each other from their various locales and being dazzled by the sun glistening on Marsha's admittedly stunning thighs, Kaylee is surprised to see a (children's clockwork) seagull first getting stuck to, then sucked under the sand by forces unseen.

Or at least forces unseen till the CGI is added later.

But there are more important things afoot like who stole Marsha's bikini top?

And how much longer will the director justify shooting so many teasing glimpses of her rosy nipples?

Not too long it seems as our bouncy babe, bored with the feeling rough, hard wood rubbing against her pert arse steps off the table only to find herself stuck to the sand in much the same way as the unfortunate bird.

Vance, coming over all heroic (but obviously thinking of coming elsewhere - on a shoe possibly) jumps out of the car in order to help Marsha - and hopefully cop a feel - but he too ends up stuck to the sinister sand.

Their friends can only watch and emote (badly) as the pair disappear beneath the beach in an onslaught of low quality CG.

Nikki Leigh - Rosy nipples not shown.

Whilst all this snot-nosed screaming is going down Mitch - being the geeky type - is much more interested in the fact that the giant bollock that was dragged to the party earlier appears to have cracked open (or 'hatched' if you will) and quickly concludes that whatever was inside must have burrowed under the sand and killed all their pals.

And it looks like it's still there and ready for seconds.

Following Mitch's lead - and remembering that she's the heroine - Kaylee uses a packet of recently thawed hot-dogs to garner how big the creature actually is.

No, really.

Realising that it's only really the size of an average garden, Jonah reckons that he can use a couple of his surfboards to makes a bridge to reach the table that Marsha was sleeping on, giving him access to her discarded handbag but more importantly a chance to put on her make-up and hopefully confuse the creature enough to allow him to run for help.

Or something.

Unfortunately the creature gets wise to his plan and sneakily moves one of the boards causing Jonah to slip and giving the beast an opportunity to slash his buff, hairless chest causing major chafing and a nasty rash.


It's not a total loss tho' as Jonah soon notices that the creature appears to be keeping away from the fire-pit and this, coupled with it's inability to smoke fags seems to indicate that it fears 'the fire'.

I wonder if the book of matches Kaylee pocketed earlier may come in useful at some point?

After what seems like an eternity of fuck all happening, Ronnie and Chanda remember that the phones are actually in the boot (or trunk as our American cousins call them) of the car and decide to make a half-arsed and ill- thought thru' attempt to retrieve them.

Unfortunately this results in very little suspense but does culminate in Ronnie getting her fingers stuck in the boot door meaning we get loads of shots straight down her bikini top as she writhes around in agony.

Which is actually quite pleasant and vaguely erotic if I'm honest.

Which I'm not so let's move on.

"Are you looking at my bra?"

The fun and games are soon are soon brought to a standstill (or a sandstill if you will) by the arrival of Alex, the friendly neighbourhood beach patrol guard (king of the comedy japesters Kennedy appearing for beer money) who assumes that the group are on drugs and proceeds to take the piss out of them as the friends look on confused as to why the sand hasn't eaten him yet.

Maybe the creature is a fan of  Malibu's Most Wanted?

I mean someone has to be.

Kaylee soon realises it's because he has a shit, stick-on beard...no hang on I mean it's because he's wearing shoes (but come on admit it, my reason is as plausible) but none of this matters as in a fit of pique Alex drops his keys and when he attempts to pick them up, ends up stuck too.

Using his trusty pepper spray he temporarily confuses the creature and attempts to drag his arm free of the sand only to find an ill-matched CGI stump pulsing and ejaculating thick red paint in its place, the shock of which causes him to fall backwards into the sand and straight to his death.

Luckily Kaylee manages to grab his pepper spray in the ensuing carnage so it's not all bad.

Except for Alex obviously.

And anyone hoping that the visual effects would be the movies saving grace.

Mitch, now feeling kinda wired and realising that if he saves everyone he's bound to get at least a sympathy shag decides to attempt to reach Alex's truck by putting on a pair of flip-flops, spraying his feet with the pepper spray before wrapping them up in towels and making a run for it.

Which as plans go isn't too bad if I'm honest.

It's a pity then that his balance is so shite that he falls over a banister and falls into the sand on his first attempt to catch a towel thrown by Chandra.

And it's not even her fault for throwing like a girl.

Suffice to say Mitch dies in possibly the most clumsy use of computer effects I've ever had the misfortune to sit thru'.

Truly horrific just not in the way the director intended.


"Shite in mah mooth!"

Kaylee, realising that the sooner she does something the sooner it'll all be over, decides to take charge and gets Chanda to construct a makeshift bridge out of the broken pieces of banister left lying around in order to reach Jonah and make up with him.

Or something.

But first there's the small matter of Ronnie's fingers to deal with.

Oh yes and the fact that Gilbert has started to melt into the bin and his oozing wounds have alerted the beast to his presence.

It's all go isn't it?

Will Kaylee, Chanda and Ronnie make it off the beach alive?

Will Gilbert spend the rest of his life trapped in a trashcan eking out money as an Oscar The Grouch impersonator at kids parties?

Will Jonah recover from his wounds?

Will you make it to the movies end without losing the will to live or at the very least bladder control?

And will you ever again pray that Jeffrey Bloom was in the directors chair?

The illustration of the monster on the poster is actually more impressive than the one in the film. Fact.

Wild haired production designer cum director Isaac Gabaeff's (bless you) creature feature has all the ingredients of a killer 'B' movie, it's unfortunate then that it squanders everything with a meandering plot, a total lack of engaging characters and a distinct lack of any tension whatsoever.

What it does have is a group of attractive twenty-somethings in very few clothes talking at each other for ninety minutes whilst a cluster of badly rendered worms attempt to make you think that they're in the same scenes as everyone else.

Oh yes and a fat, obnoxious 'comedy' black man stuck in a barrel due to his enormous girth and swearing a lot.

And a totally unnecessary and overlong cameo by Jamie Kennedy that does nothing but prove the fact that Gabaeff alongside writers Alex Greenfield (the writer behind WWE Smackdown! - go figure) and Ben Powell had no idea as to whether they were making a comedy or a straight up horror before deciding to make neither and just hope that the sheer amount of bouncy young breasts on show would suffice.

Cynthia Murell, up the casino, Blackpool, 1998.....YESCH.


Which is a shame if I'm honest because The Sand has all the elements of a fairly scary movie and with a better script and a lot less lazy CGI could have been a late night classic in the making.

As it is it's just there.

And it's a shame because the genuinely great female trio of Butler, Berry and - especially - Murell deserve better.

As do we.

I'd file it under 'must try harder' but honestly it'd be more apt to have it under  'try'.

Or just bury it on the beach and forget about it.

Tomorrow - something better.


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