Sunday, October 25, 2020

hammer time.


Day 25 of 31 days of horror.

Don't you people have homes to go to?

Todays choice is cheap, cheerful and shorter than your dad due to the fact that I have things to do later.


Hammerhead Shark Frenzy (AKA Shark Man, Hammerhead, 2005).
Dir: Michael Oblowitz.
Cast: William Forsythe, Hunter Tylo, Sir Jeffrey of Combs, Elise Muller, Arthur Roberts, G.R. Johnson, Mariya Ignatova and Anton Argirov.

Amelia Lockhart: You're going to impregnate me?

Dr. Preston King: No....

[pointing to the mutant shark man in the tank]

Dr. Preston King: .....he is.

Somewhere on a deserted island that it must be said looks a wee bit like a garden centre forecourt somewhere in Bulgaria where life - and shooting permits - are cheap, mad as a lorry scientist Dr. Preston King (genre king Combs) is desperately trying to find a cure for his son Paul's terminal cancer.

Which is fairly cheery I'm sure you'll agree.

As is the way with science-types in this kinda film King decides the best course of action is to use stem cells taken from Hammerhead sharks and merge them with those of his dying son.

Sounds legit.

Unexpectedly shark DNA can, in fact completely cure all known cancer (who knew?) but the downside is that it causes humans to mutate into hideous half man, half shark monsters.

Thank fuck Jenny McCarthy never saw his research papers, it'd give her something else to blame for Autism.

Jenny! What are you doing hen? Don't you know that frolicking around in a warm bath is a major cause of Autism? And rickets.

Feeling that someone should really check up on Dr. Kings wacky experiments - plus realizing that a film consisting of 90 minutes of Combs injecting stuff into a teenagers pert buttocks probably wouldn't appeal to a horror crowd -  a group of his former colleagues, led by eminent fish expert Dr. Tom Reed (William ' the kids school fees are how much?' Forsythe) and including Paul's ex Amelia (The Bold and the Beautiful's Tylo) and for some reason a vacuous blonde bimbette in a flouncy dress and pink jelly shoes (Muller, star of the equally fin-tastic Raging Sharks reviewed elsewhere on this blog, I'd put up a link but think it'd be more exciting for you to try and find it yourself) named Jane decide to make a surprise visit to his island lair for chat, tea and cakes.


Upon arrival they are horrified (I say horrified but it's more like mild indifference) to discover not only the mutant hammerhead shark man but a dingy lab stuffed full of half-naked, oily women strapped to tables and shelf upon shelf of pickled shark hybrid fetuses.

Which is nice.

Deciding to give King the benefit of the doubt (but not getting him to remove his coat indoors so he'll get the benefit of the warmth) our merry band ask the scatty scientist to explain what's going on.

Adjusting his spectacles King announces that he really wants a grandson (makes sense) and it appears that he'll stop at nothing to finally hear the pitter-patter of tiny fins around his laboratory.

Trouble is that shark-mans foreplay technique appears to consist of biting chunks out of his dates.

Artificial insemination wont work either as shark-man can't really reach his own penis with his stumpy claw arms and his dad (understandably) will only do so much for him.

But now that Paul's lost love Amelia has turned up King decides on another course of action that involves drowning the rest of the party in his handy water tank before re-introducing his son to Amelia for a candle lit meal, followed by some wine and - hopefully - culminating in a wee bit of slap and tickle.

With maybe an optional bit of biting.

Sounds like a pretty average date growing up in the midlands if I'm honest.

"Hello French Polishers? You may just be able to save my life....tho' not my career!"


Taking a moment to think it over our motley crew instead decide to make a break for it, escaping down a handy overflow pipe and into the dense jungle - well, the local park - surrounding the complex.

Unfortunately they've failed to take into account that the sneaky scientist has his own private army on standby for just such a situation.

But that's not the only problem our heroes have to face for it appears that Paul is out for a stroll (paddle?) and is hungry for blood.

And maybe, just maybe a wee bit of fish on femme action.

Dirty boy.

One by one, the cast of has beens, wannabes and ne'er do wells are slaughtered by sharky; first to go is King's assistant Julie (Bulgaria's Got Talent host Ignatova - no really) as he/it messily eats her whole.*

But Paul is still hungry, violently lunching out on a fat lab assistant before scoffing Jane.

Which frankly is a mercy killing.

Leaf me alone.....Elise Muller prepares for a fucking good rooting.

After another couple of chases, near misses and vicious attacks, the Doc persuades sharky to return to his paddling pool for a special treat.

It appears that he's managed to trap the ex in a shed.

Which if nothing else would make a great title for a new Channel 4 show.

Bulgaria may have talent but it also appears to have a distinct lack of chairs. And underpants.

Stripped to her - admittedly very nice - undies and covered in baby oil, Amelia can only watch in horror as King lights some candles, pops on a Barry White CD and straps her to a table in readiness for some saucy shark sex.

Laugh now!

Will William Forsythe arrive armed to the teeth to take out the randy fish before it has chance to show poor Miss Lockhart his famous French flipper trick?

Will the cameras catch Combs silently weeping at the realization of what he has to do to pay the mortgage?

Will we ever find out why every single one of the female cast appears to have visited the same plastic surgeon and why they all decided that 'melted market Barbie' was a good look?

Or will sharky triumph?

I drew this.

Quite possibly the best mutant hammerhead shark movie to feature Jeffrey Combs, Hammerhead: Shark Frenzy is a laugh a minute, flirty gore fest of the highest order, teasing it's viewers with promises of rubber monster mayhem, needless nudity, buckets of blood and the exciting prospect of girl on shark action.

Obviously it doesn't really deliver (especially not on the girl on guppy gyrating) but it did inspire me to do some quick sketches afterwards that I'm happy to share.

Sorry, I have my woman's period.

Plus somebody must have been impressed otherwise how do you explain director Michael Oblowitz's stratospheric rise to fame, I mean why else was he picked to direct 2008's most important movie, the fantastic Romantic Resorts, a beautiful documentary focusing on America's five most romantic destinations for lovers, weddings, honeymoons and anniversaries?

And don't forget he also gave us - whether we wanted it or not - the Billy Zane/Rumor Willis shocker The Ganzfeld Haunting, something of which we should be eternally grateful.

If only for giving us the sight of Taylor Cole drunkenly snogging Rumor Willis on a comfy sofa.

Can you smell petrol?

Talking of which, if you ever find yourself drunk on a sofa - alongside either Willis or Cole -  you could do much worse than watch this.

Jeffrey Combs is, as always infinitely watchable and the shark-man costume is a rubbery (thank you) delight to behold - being far more realistic than the silicon and plastic form of Hunter Tylo if I'm honest, add to the mix a veritable art store shelf of paper thin non actors (with the exception of William - my alimony payments have hiked - Forsythe) and a bevvy of oiled ladies and you have the perfect Friday night film.

Especially if you're a tragic and lonely single guy in his 30's and your mom and dad have gone away for the weekend.

Which is probably most of the folk reading this.

Yes indeed I know deep down that it's utter shit, but it's top quality shit and that's all that matters.

Tomorrow.....something halfway decent.

I promise. 












*No he didn't spit that bit out.

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