Wednesday, October 12, 2022

chains of love.

Got a work deadline to hit so please excuse this particularly short and sweet 31 Days of Horror entry.

Like anyone cares.

Demoni 3 (AKA Black Demons, Black Zombies. 1991)
Dir: Umberto Lenzi.
Cast: Sonia Curtis, Keith Van Hoven, Joe Balogh, Philip Murray, Juliana Teixeira, Maria Alves and some other folk I really can't be arsed listing.

"I see his bag, but I don't see Dick."

Fancying a cheap holiday (and even cheaper drugs, probably), the sexily square headed Jessica (Curtis from Days of Our Lives), her 'hunky' beau Kevin (Van Hoven who's been in everything from House of Clocks to Operation Delta Force via your mum) and her tagalong brother Dick (Balogh...bless you) decide Rio de Janeiro is the place to be seen and book themselves onto the first flight they can find in the hope of experiencing sun, sand and sex with transsexual crack whores in glittery bikinis.

Sounds like my mum and dads honeymoon.

Derek Griffiths helps out with the magical mouse
theatre musical version of The Wicker Man.

Anyway being the friendly and approachable man about town that he is and within minutes of arriving, Dick somehow manages to wrangle himself an invite to a genuine Macumba ceremony from a dusky, bingo winged bucktoothed bouncy mamma (or is it Martin Laurence?) with a great line in pound shop jewellery and lips so pneumatic that that they could suck an orange thru' a tennis racquet.

Reckoning that an evening of chicken slaughtering, luscious laydees dancing topless and sweaty men playing the bongos would be preferable to sitting in between his sis and Kev in the pictures whilst hiding his cock in the bottom of the popcorn to give them a fright (again) Dick jumps at the chance, secretly taking his tape recorder to get a keepsake of the whole kerr-azee night.

Imagine the sexy bit in Angel Heart but with Lisa Bonet replaced by your Auntie Jean smothered in fake tan and your halfway there.

But who am I to judge as Dick seemed to enjoy himself and obviously made a good impression seeing as on his way back to the hotel the grizzled grannie gives him a strange (re: tacky as fuck) amulet to remember her by.

Oh, and a curse.

Swings and roundabouts really.

Aye hen.

Getting on with their holiday, our terrific trio hire a jeep and take a few days to explore the wonderful Brazilian countryside taking snapshots of undernourished weans, toothless old men and women carrying baskets on their heads (as you do), but this frankly time filling exercise is (thankfully) cut short when their jeep breaks down.

Luckily a well to do couple, Jose and Sonia just happen to be passing and offer to let the holiday makers stay at their villa.

I'm assuming it's theirs but I was out having a fag at this point so they may have just broken in....but really, who cares?

Dick however has begun to act a wee bit mental and wanders off on his own to check out the local graveyard - I say graveyard whereas in reality it's a vegetable patch with six cardboard gravestones in it - where the bodies of a group of murdered slaves lie awaiting the chance for revenge on the nasty slave owing white folks.

For a laugh Dick decides to play his recording of the Macumba ritual which, not too surprisingly awakens them from their slumber.

Who'd have guessed?

"Do you need any scissors sharpening?"

Back at the villa Kev and Jessica have been making small talk with the maid Maria (the late, great Alves), who as well as being a mean cook and cleaner is also the local towns official practitioner of Voodoo.

Which is lucky when she realizes what a dick Dick's been and offers to do all she can to protect everyone from advancing zombie horde.....


Whilst never scaling the dizzying heights of Lenzi's masterpiece Nightmare City, Black Demons is a fairly enjoyable way to pass ninety minutes (if drunk) and, surprisingly actually has a couple of good things going for it despite the mad as a lorry Lenzi's unique (ahem) directorial style (nothing changed there then) coupled with a terrifying cast of non actors doing their damnedest to sabotage the proceedings at every opportunity.

I mean it's not often you get to see a hero so wooden that he's acted off screen by six dead guys with ping pong balls for eyes.

And for that reason alone Black Demons is worth the price of a rental.

Curtis: May field. may not.

It's not total shite tho' as the film has one saving grace in the form of Sonia Curtis, who bravely attempts to bring at least a semblance of life to a movie that was dead before it got passed the scripting stage. 

To add insult to injury Lenzi seemed to have a real axe to grind (tho' not literally fortunately) with poor Ms. Curtis, referring to her in interviews as both a mediocre actress, as well as describing her as short and unattractive.

Which is rich coming from the guy who kept Hugo Stiglitz in work (and in booze) for the majority of the eighties.

Saying that tho' he's dead now so it really doesn't matter.

Witherspoon? no, with a chisel.

But never fear because if like me you began to find yourself strangely drawn to this pink jumpered wonder during the duration of the movie then it's time to rejoice because surprisingly she didn't give up acting, she even made a film fairly recently when she 'played' Vera Johnson in Mark Savage's 120/80: Stressed To Kill alongside Bill Oberst Jr, Marshall Hilton and Arman Assante.
And if that's not enough then fear not because she's been working constantly since Black Demons with roles as diverse as that of Sondra De Salvo in Boston Strangler: The Untold Story and the tight trousered Deputy Deborah Goodrich in Relentless Justice.

Now doesn't that give you a tingly feeling inside?

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