Friday, November 22, 2019

stuff....

....you find stored on SD cards you come across in the street
(Part One).












Thursday, November 21, 2019

spain oddity.

Was tidying up the scary cupboard yesterday in order to try and find some shite sci-fi I can review in the countdown to The Rise of Skywalker (as I mentioned yesterday, it might get me a few more readers) when I came across my copy of the craptastic Ghosts of Sherwood hidden under a pile of old copies of Titbits magazines.

As I held it fondly in my arms I remembered back to my review and how I thought I'd never seen a movie quite so shockingly awful ever again.

But guess what?

I was wrong.

So terribly, terribly wrong.

Total Retribution (aka Earthkiller, 2011)
Dir: Andrew Bellware.
Cast: Robin Kurtz, Walter Barnes, Joe Beuerlein, the directors family and friends, your dad, my dad and that scary woman that hangs about the corner shop who smells of bananas.

“humanity will end itself”



The time?

The future (sometime just after lunch possibly),

The place?

High above a children's sandpit.

The audience attention grabbing situation?

Well that'll be the sight of a milky thighed woman falling from the sky as the words “humanity will end itself” play out in a loop.

Now I'm intrigued.

Especially seeing as she's a ginger.

Crashing to earth in a burst of special effects of the kind not seen since I last booted up my Atari 2600 our mysterious heroine is soon found by two portly gypsies dressed in their dad's work overalls (and their little sister's Harry Potter cosplay capes) who appear to have an unhealthy interest in the huge chocolate coin she's wearing around her little bird-like neck.

It can't be that they're hungry - greedy yes, hungry definitely not -  so it must have another significance.

It's like a nursery school adaptation of Hardware but with pound shop glitter and glue replacing, well everything really.

Here come The Belgians!



Jumping forward two hundred years (well that's what it says on the caption) we find the very same woman now completely naked and standing in what seems to be a stationary cupboard aboard a high-tech space station that appears to have been rendered by a hook handed child on a V-Tech look and learn tablet.

Luckily she still has the chocolate coin tho.

The woman (whom we discover is named Helen and portrayed with all the charisma of a - fairly - annoyed geography teacher by Robin Kurtz who, truth be told is the nearest the movie will get to having a bona fide actor on screen so make the most of it), bored with standing around shivering in the obviously cold set (trust me you can tell) decides to have a wee peek outside the cupboard just in time to see a guard shot herself in the head amid a pile of Kwik Fit overalled corpses.

There's no time to rest tho' (or even admire the shoddily constructed cardboard sets) as no sooner has the poor woman's head hit the ground when a rag tag couple of military types turn up to wax lyrically about death and 'the scriptures'.

As you do.

Sauce.

With the set not being that big - and with Helen being fairly tall - our naked pal is soon forced out of hiding and into a playground style Mexican standoff with the soldiers before everyone involved gets bored and goes their own way, the duo off into a darkened corridor and Helen straight ahead giving the director a chance to linger on her brightly lit - albeit frighteningly skinny - arse.

It's not all religious chat and nudity tho' as Helen is soon back to her old hiding tricks when she stumbles across a couple of over enunciating maintenance men deep in conversation about some existential rubbish before one of them turns into a zombie and punches the other to death.

No really.

20 minutes in and with her nudity clause fully fulfilled Helen decides to head for the nearest locker room in order to find some clothes suitable for battling the great space undead.

Or at least stand a chance of winning third prize at a Resident Evil fancy dress parade.

And only then if the judges were blind.

As a plus point the 'Helen gets dressed' scene is probably the most dramatic thing you will see in the movie and get dressed she does in a fantastically futuristic ensemble that includes a black boob tube, some saggy arsed spandex cycling shorts, a sad, single child's skateboarding kneepad, a pair of orthopedic boots and a realistic leather effect belt like the one your granddad wears.

Nice.

"Freedom for Tooting!"



She's barely had time to adjust her crotch when the pal-punching zombie from earlier turns up (you can tell he's a zombie because he has red felt pen round his eyes and a mouth covered in strawberry jam) in order it seems to carry on his frankly mundane musings from earlier.

Perhaps the zombiefication is caused by an airbourne virus that reacts to how much bollocks you can spout in a 5 minute period?

Well it'd make as much sense as the rest of the movie.

Helen has no time for chat tho' and quickly dispatches the zombie by shooting him in the stomach.

Twice.

Which as we all know is the only way to kill the undead.

Not wanting the plot to be the only thing that's meandering, Helen wanders deeper into the space station before coming across (if only) a harsh-faced girl who is luckily on hand to explain the plot to those of us who haven't drunk themselves into a coma/slashed their wrists by now.

So pay attention, here's the science part:

It appears that Helen is actually an android and that the space station is the staging ground for a final battle between The Terran Special Forces and the stations very own Allied Airborne Battalion.

Why? I hear you cry.

Well the scientists aboard the station have discovered a process by which they can turn folk (but only the really unattractive and untalented ones by the look of it) into scribble faced zombies.

And if that wasn't enough it seems that the process can also be used to turn them into massive robot dogs.

Obviously the people of Earth need to put an end to such frankly ludicrous shenanigans as soon as.

Makes perfect sense when you think about it.

If the director can't be arsed then I'm not wasting my time thinking up an amusing caption.



Now you'd think that'd be enough to keep even the most dedicated hero busy but no there's more as the scientists have also aimed a massive laser at the planet too.

And not just any old laser oh no, you see this one is specifically designed to create wormholes in time and space.

Tho' why you'd threaten to destroy the only place that you can get subjects for your robot dog/zombie hybrid experiments isn't explained.

Or maybe I'm just too thick to figured it out.

And so begins a race against time - and good taste - for our trim tummied terminatrix as she desperately tries to discover her reason for being onboard and her connection to the project before the earth is destroyed.

"Are you looking at my bra?"


Cue 40 minutes of arse-prolapsing dialogue (including a frankly bizarre conversation about Helen's undies), Nintendo 64 quality 'special' effects, the same animated GiF of gunfire used over and over, random blood splash photoshop effects whenever anyone gets shot and the biggest collection of badly painted pound shop Nerf guns ever committed to videotape.

Imagine Alien: Resurrection remade by a group of fish-eyed schizophrenics with only the contents of their dads garage for props and with a script written in shit by a club footed insomniac in exchange for a collection of vintage underwear ads and you'd only be half way to understanding the whole sorry mess.

But who do we thank for it?

Well that'd be writer/director/composer/actor/binman Andrew Bellware - the man who gave the world the definitive discourse of that famous Dane with his New York based 1997 version of Hamlet (no me neither) as well as such straight to torrent site shite as Prometheus Trap, Alien Uprising and Clone Hunter who with this brings us a film so inept, so threadbare and so mind numbingly awful that it managed to not only give my DVD player cancer but caused me to go blind whilst watching.

And it's not just that it's badly made, ill-conceived and horribly realised but the fact that none of it makes any sense and that no-one involved seems to care.

The 'actors' (save Kurtz) seem to be wandering around in a self conscious, charisma free daze - all that is except the thick-necked blonde space marine lady who delivers her lines with all the skill and charm of a menstruating traffic warden with delusions of godhood and unfortunately the mouth of a stroke victim -  almost as if they've been forced at gunpoint to appear in this travesty as some kind of sub-Saw revenge plot.

Come on....they can't have all fucked the directors dog so god knows what they did to end up in this.

If I'm honest I'm kinda worried at to what punishment Bellware will dish out to me if he reads this.



This makes me really sad.

It's not all bad tho' - no hang on it is actually tho' I will admit that had I not had the misfortune to sit thru this I would have missed how utterly woeful (re: fucking abysmal) the robo/dog/zombies actually are.

I'd try to describe them but a screengrab will have to suffice and not even that can do them justice:

No really, just fuck off.


Yes my friends I'm actually recommending that you do indeed sit thru this steaming pile of cinematic shite just to experience the absolute joy of this perfect example of computer-aided arse first hand.

I doubt you ever find anything else that even remotely comes close.

The cinematic equivalent of being clumsily bum-fingered by a jaggy nailed tramp, Total Retribution is less a piece of low-brow cinema entertainment more an evil endurance test designed by an insane sadomasochist with a spandex fetish.*

But don't take my word for it see for yourself......

You know you want to.


























































































*It still pisses over The Last Jedi tho'.


Monday, November 11, 2019

stryke it lucky.

Noticed that the pound shop Oswald Moseley, ferret-faced uber-racist and part-time hand model that is Nigel Farage has been trending on Twitter again.

Unfortunately it's not because he's dead but because it looks like our roly poly prankster cum (bucket) Prime Minister Boris Johnson has promised him a peerage for um reasons.

The scariest thing tho' was at no point during the conversation was it mentioned that BoJo and Nige actually have more in common that just being elitist tosspots who only think of lining their own pockets no matter what the cost to anyone else because you see they also scarily enough both have the same favourite film.

No seriously.

I once phoned in Farage's radio show to ask him about it.*

Johnson: A mooth made for shite-in in.



Obviously this shouldn't come as too much of a surprise when you realise that Zombie 4 is actually about immigration and foreign types and the like but under the guise of being an Italian zombie film.

Clever eh?

Oh plus it features Jeff Stryker and as we all know BoJo never says no to a wee bit of man-cock.

You can ask Carrie Symonds about that.

Anyway on with the review.

Zombie Flesh Eaters 3 (AKA Zombie 4: After Death. 1988)
Dir: Claudio Fragasso.
Cast: Jeff Stryker, Candice Daly, Don Wilson, Massimo Vanni, Nick Nicholson, Adrienne Joseph, Jim Gaines, your mom and some tramps.

But not Jeremy Corbyn obviously.

Or immigrants.

Touchin' our bane will feel our rain on the gain. It's a nightlife, whoa! Runnin' hard if you want it or not! It's a wild life, whoa! You can't stop. You must go on! I'm living after death! Living after death! I'm living after death! Living... Living... LIVING AFTER DEATH!




Somewhere on a remote South Pacific island (or more likely in the kiddies play park behind the directors house), a scientific research team have been working on a cellular regenerative thingy in the hope of finding a cure for ingrowing toenails and bad breath.

In an attempt to get the local (glam rock frocked) natives onside, top science bloke Dr. Godfrey Soontodie has offered to use this frankly bollocks scientific discovery to help cure the voodoo witch doctor's daughter of her terrifying bunions.

As is always the case in these situations the wee girl unfortunately dies.

It's off screen tho' so it's not that upsetting.

"Get your clothes off and your lips puckered....these babies aren't gonna suckle themselves!"


Not too surprisingly the witch doctor takes offense to this news and decides to put the famous 'curse of the dead' on the island, its visitors and inhabitants.

Which is understandable if not a wee bit annoying for the rest of the tribe.

With a wave of his mighty (and very beefy) arms and a flash of homemade fireworks (but not alas a flash of old man thigh) literally all hell breaks loose.

Well it would if hell consisted of an old lady in an ill fitting Halloween mask and a pair of Austin Powers teeth seemingly faking an orgasm whilst dancing like Ian Curtis (post suicide) on crack.

It's your nan at Christmas basically.

Laugh and indeed now!





It's not too much of a spoiler to say that the dead rise and kill everyone.

Well everyone that is except the lead scientists blonde moppet daughter, Jenny who survives the carnage thanks to a magic amulet given to her by her mother.

Well it's either actually magic or so cheap and nasty as to repel any self respecting zombie that sees it.

You can decide.

Flash forward 15 years later and a rescue team, led by the hunky Chuck (porn idol Stryker in a rare 'straight' role - ask your dad) is finally dispatched to discover why no-one has been returning their calls.

Well they took their time didn't they?

Also on the island (by some strange quirk of fate) is a by now all grown up Jenny (the late, great Daly from The Young and the Restless and Hell Hunters) accompanied by the slightly less attractive Louise (Joseph, mother of Birds of a Feather's Leslie), rentalunk Rod (Nicholson) and a couple of dirty mouthed gypsies.

Our Nige seen here reenacting his favourite scene from the movie. No, I didn't realize that it featured a bit where a bigoted halfwit almost gets garotted by a biplane either. Must have been cut in the UK.


Sod all this character stuff tho' we want to know what Team Chuck is up to.

Well, whilst wandering around in a polystyrene cave left over from Michele Soavi's 'The Sect' (no really) our hero comes across the mysterious Book of the Dead.

Which is a change from my boyhood years watching him coming across a variety of buff arses whilst pulling a face not too dissimilar to the one your grandad pulled when he had that stroke.

But enough of the homemade erotica you want to know how Chuck knows that it's the real Book of the Dead and not a shoddy knock-off one from down the market.

Well it does have the words BOOK OF THE DEAD printed on the cover in big bold letters so I guess that clinches it.

You can see why Mrs Unwell doesn't trust me to buy stuff off Ebay can't you?

"Shite in mah tramp bearded mooth!"


Anyway back to the plot (for want of a better word) where Chuck, in a vain attempt to prove he can read unaided - but alas proving that he's never seen a horror movie - begins to shout random passages from the book (intercut with him shouting "Yeah baby! You're so fuckin' tight!" and pulling his cum face - well in my dreams it is) not realizing that the words, when read aloud are capable of bringing the dead back to life.

This'll be the same living dead that have actually been wandering around aimlessly for the past decade and a half from when that witch doctor read the same book, remember?

The writer obviously doesn't.


Some immigrants stealing our jobs and benefits yesterday.



Within minutes our heroes (well the folk on screen) are running for their very lives as hordes (I say hordes but I mean dozens) of foul looking refugees and illegal Eastern European immigrants (possibly) begin to rise slowly from their shallow graves intent on tasting the legendary Jeff Stryker's ample meat.

Or something.

Meanwhile in the grassy bit behind the bike sheds, jumpy Jenny and co. have problems of their own (discounting the obvious ones like lack of acting ability and bad breath) when a lone, maggot covered tramp (obviously symbolizing Remainers) falls on them from behind a tree covering a hapless member of her party in sick.

Running away screaming they soon stumble across the deserted medical research facility (in reality the directors local scout hut) once run by Jenny's folks where they're soon joined (c'mon, the running times not that long) by Chuck who has managed to escape the scary flesh eaters by leaving his team to die whilst he sneaked away sobbing like a baby.

What a guy.


Bobby Davro, up the casino, Penrith 1985.....YESCH!



Luckily for the survivors this peaceful medical centre is chock full of weapons  giving the male cast members ample opportunity to pose in a topless sweaty manner whilst firing a variety of semi-automatic weaponry indiscriminately at various unpaid extras who are then expected to fall off roofs and be set on fire in the vain hope of securing a work permit or at least a new pair of shoes for their kids.

Ain't capitalism grand?

But the humans are fighting a losing battle as one by one they are overcome by the advancing dead.

Deciding the blow up the centre in an attempt to convince the zombies it's Bonfire night and thus giving the humans a chance to escape (plus they reckon it might add a wee bit of much needed excitement to the movie), sole survivors Jenny and Chuck make a break for the woods only to find themselves back in the very cave where the spooky witch doctor started the undead plague to begin with.

With the zombie army closing in and Chuck down to firing blanks, Jenny clutches the magic amulet, praying for a miracle.

Well it's either that or she's cursing her agent.**


Casual.

Will our toothsome twosome escape?

Will the UK rise up and actually take back control?

Will the zombie hordes attack Jenny and eat her whole?

Or will they spit that bit out?

Or will Chuck die whilst something slight and fairly incomprehensible happens to Jenny?

Go on, guess.


Not photoshopped.




Best known for it's frightening amount of alternate titles (After Death being the most common and Zombi 4 being the easiest to spell) as well as being shot on sets constructed for Michael Soavi's 'The Sect' and filmed entirely using camera's and equipment 'borrowed' from the set of Bruno Mattei's 'Strike Commando 2' (which was filming nearby), Claudio Fagrasso's -AKA Clyde Anderson - Zombie Flesh-Eaters 3/4 is the near pinnacle of bad movie making made flesh, a cinematic black hole so dire that not even light can escape from it's spiny celluloid fingers.

Imagine the most dangerous and sordid unsafe sex act you could ever indulge in with the most foul, STD ridden, crab-panted person - or animal - you can, then imagine that as you're about to cum (against your better judgement) you look down and realize that this pock marked, toothless crone you've payed £5 to probably catch sex death from is, in fact, your Gran.

You know...the dead one.

This is the effect After Death can have on a normal cinema goer.

But saying that, imagine how amusing it would be if you saw this happen to a friend.

And you just happened to have a camera handy.

So I guess you pays your money you takes your chance.


Funnel or tunnel?




Wise men say that you can't choose who (or what) you fall in love with tho' and like the three legged dog you should put down but decide to nail to a skateboard, After Death stays with you long after the DVD has been ejected, just like Hepatitis C or the feeling of shame you get after watching your parents home made porn.

Obviously just before realizing halfway thru' that you're actually the star, propped up on top of the wardrobe, drugged up to the eyeballs and wearing a dress.

But if like me you're one of the special few that actually enjoys Fragrasso's work - especially his top notch collaborations with Bruno ('Zombie Creeping Flesh' and 'Rats : Night of Terror') Mattei  - then jump in and enjoy.

I know I did.

But to be honest I really think that I should get out more.

And by that I mean out of the house not out of Europe obviously.

We wouldn't have stuff like this film if that were the case.




































































*And bizarre as it seems it's also Catherine Blaiklock's favourite film too.

You see it was actually her love of this movie that got her to team up with  Farage to form the Brexit Party in the first place.










**Tho' obviously not as much as she was after she left The Young and the Restless, when after being unable to find work ended up OD-ing in a rundown Los Angeles apartment on December 14, 2004, which kinda put the dampers on my 35th birthday I can tell you.

Saturday, November 9, 2019

china in your han.

Not long now till The Rise of Skywalker is let loose on an ever more apathetic public still reeling from the cinematic cesspit that was The Last Jedi so in order to cheer up those of us who actually still want to think of Star Wars when it was good (and are excited about The Mandalorian) I present various panels from the fantastic Chinese comic book adaptation of A New Hope originally published in Guangdong.

Enjoy.








Head over here for the full strip and to marvel at the amazing Nick Stember who's attempting to translate the whole thing and for more on the history  of lianhuanhua, check out the quite marvelous Maggie Green

Who says this blog isn't educational?

Wednesday, November 6, 2019

strange.

Can't believe that it's 36 years today since Will Byers went missing.....Remember the day with 60 (very) odd minutes of strange sounds from the upside down.


Monday, November 4, 2019

film '80.

Found a few dog eared copies of Variety down the back of the sofa giving a sneak peek into the world of cinematic sales techniques.....So, how many of these gems actually made it into production?