snail of the century.

So I've obviously given up on that whole let's review every film set in 2019 thing for now (tho' it's not like anyone was reading it) and decided to just (re) watch whatever random movie I find when tidying the boys bedroom.

Enjoy.

Aenigma (AKA Daemonia, Internado diabolico, L’enigme. 1987).
Dir: Lucio Fulci.
Cast: Jared Martin, Lara Naszinski, Ulli Reinthaler, Sophie d'Aulan, Jennifer Naud, Milijana Zirojevic, Ricardo Acerbi and Lijlijana Blagojevic.

"I may have a fat ass, but if you slap it one more time, I’ll slap your face!"

Pug eyed Cherie Blair alike Kathy (Zirojevic - bless you) is the friendless class freak at the bizarrely European Saint Mary’s College in Boston.

With her scary Lego hair, permanently surprised expression and ickle thin legs Kathy spends her days dreaming about the studly gym teacher Fred Vernon (slick quiffed sex god Acerbi) who -surprisingly - one day actually asks lil ms. mousy out on a date.

A date to the 'dancing' no less.

Stunned by this turn of events - and forgetting that she's in a horror movie - Kathy excitedly gets ready for the night of her life with the knight of her dreams (to the funky sound of the Euro-pop hit 'Head over Heels' by top popster Douglas Meakin no less) unaware of what is about to occur.

"(Pop) eyed son!"

After a night of funky frugging Fred offers to take Kathy home but on the way
pulls his Jeep over on a secluded wooded path, where he almost immediately - well it is a short film -  starts to work his manly magic on Kathy, whispering sweet nothings and working the poor lass into a wild unbridled frenzy of naughty thoughts and sweaty thighs.

Unbeknown to Kathy tho' the couple are surrounded by her evil classmates, their cars parked just out of sight and all tuned into the secret two way radio in Fred's car.

What a rotter.

Giggling happily to themselves as Kathy's breathing gets deeper and Fred's dialogue gets far cheesier than you would think possible, the band of baddies flash their headlights with a whoop just as Kathy thinks she's about to do the dirty with the vile Vernon.

Understandably humiliated (and a wee bit affronted by the turn of events) she leaps from the car and legs it back to the college with her cruel classmates in hot pursuit.

Chased onto a main road unlucky Kathy is hit by an oncoming motorist, bouncing across the bonnet and ending up comatose and in intensive care.

Ouch.

"Tubes in mah mooth!"

Confusingly cutting back to the school for no other reason than to introduce us to our lead actress for the evening, new girl Eva Gordon (Naszinsky; star of A Blade in the Dark and cousin of Nastassja Kinski no less) a button nosed blonde who has just arrived at Saint Mary's and is ready to settle in for a hard term of studying.

Or as she puts it "...a successful year means making out with as many boys as possible”.

Saucy minx.

But there's something very strange about Eva and not just the fact that the film keeps abruptly cutting to shots of Kathy as the new girl does something really normal like walking up some stairs but bizarre stuff like her not knowing where she was born, being unable to convincingly walk and talk at the same time and finding random lighters hidden in her underwear drawer.

Spooky biscuits.

Luckily for Eva her roommate Jenny (lantern jawed Reinthaler from Zombi 3 or is that Zombi 4?) thinks nothing of it and welcomes the new girl into the local bitch squad whilst Eva sets her lustful sights on Fred and his kick flared, stay-press jeans.

"Then I saw her face...now I'm a mad Eva!"

Being a Fulci film tho' it's not long before some totally bizarre (but gorgeously shot) shit starts 'going down' as the youngsters say - Fred is the first to fall foul to the strangeness when, after an argument about buckets with hairy Mary the college janitor (and mother of Kathy) he's choked to death by his own reflection.

And that's even before he's had a chance to even think about touching Eva's hemline, poor sod.

Him that is, not her.

The local police led by what looks like a council estate Zane Lowe (alongside director Fulci in a cameo) decide that he died of a heart attack and leave it at that.

"Can you show me where he touched you on this picture son?"

Bizarrely, everything on campus continues as normal, the girls bitch, smoke and wear frighteningly short hotpants whilst the Super Nanny like headmistress Ms. Jones (Scrabble triple word scoring Blagojevic) wanders around the corridors in a disappointingly non-lesbian like manner unaware that there's a pretty good chance that Kathy's spirit has returned for revenge.

Could she be controlling Eva?

Maybe.

And thusly the weirdness continues, only coming to a head when Eva viciously beats Jenny with a stuffed Giraffe before collapsing onto her bed in a sweatily unconscious state whilst pulling what can only be termed her best cum face.

Which is nice.

Enter (roughly and from behind whilst engaged in a crafty reacharound) the sexy neurologist cum crime fighter and ex Blow Monkeys frontman Doctor Robert (pubed headed US teevee heart throb and star of Fantastic Journey and that 80's War of The Worlds series Martin) who appears to be the only character in the movie with any idea that something maybe, oh so slightly amiss.

You see he's noticed that there are rather alarming changes in Kathy's brainwaves during (and after) each mysterious death.

Mysterious brainwaves aren't the only thing of interest to the Lothario Doc tho' as he also seems keen on sampling a wee bit of underage totty, Eva being a case in point.

Dr. Robert: diggin' your scene.

No surprises then that before long Dr. Robert has entered (shit, I've already done that joke, just imagine it again but without the reachround bit) a full blow affair with Eva with tasteful sexy scenes intercut with Kathy making the hospital machines bleep loudly as her old classmates start dying in even more bizarre ways – including naked sex-based suffocation by snails and being hugged to death by a paper mache statue of Brian Blessed.

Obviously Eva is the main suspect.

Snails in mah...well snails everywhere really.

Whilst all this deadly death is occurring, Dr. Robert begins to suffer from nightmarish dreams where the glisteningly ample arsed Eva and himself indulge in sweaty sex that culminate in her biting off his nipples and tongue to a sub Goblin rock soundtrack courtesy of Carlo Maria Cordio, the man behind the soundtracks of Troll 2 and Shocking Dark.

But nobodies perfect.

Suffice to say that Rob is fairly relieved when Eva's folk decide to take her out of school and lock her up in a mental asylum, for one thing it means he can now starting shagging the class whore Grace (the slightly stocky Naud) without fear of losing his nips, bladder control etc and for another it means he can spend much more valuable screen time wandering aimlessly in and out of Kathy's room whilst tutting at the monitors.

Everyone's a winner then.

Tunnel or funnel?

Until that is late one night when Eva escapes from Shady Nook with the idea of being re-united with her true love.

Oh and to maybe commit some more murders.....

Fulci's little seen - and scarily little loved - psycho-babbling B-movie opus Aenigma, whilst not being his best works is at once totally bonkers and infinitely watchable; from the aforementioned slug scene (featuring as it does some fantastically kinky shots of said shelled beasties sliming across an erect nipple) to the scary Tom Cruise poster adorning the wall of Grace's room via the bizarre (and budget helping) use of the same beheading scene to show the whole college campus being murdered to quite possibly cinema's sweatiest and most unnecessary greased arse sex ever filmed there's so much here to enjoy.

The cast - in the main a mix of Italian and Yugoslavian actors - play everything straight and to the point, not only playing the whole thing deadly serious but also managing to convince us that they're actually in the good old US of A and not the city of Pristina in Yugoslavia where it was (probably) shot*.

I mean almost everyone on screen sports a St. Mary’s Boston T-shirt at some point whilst the girls’ dormitory rooms are choc full of posters featuring everything from an American flag (with a bald eagle on it obviously), Snoopy, Yoda and even Tom Cruise.

This poster seems to be a favourite of everyone involved tho' as it appears on screen almost as often as Jared Martin's arse.

Tom Cruise, the most effectual
Tom Cruise, whose intellectual
Close friends get to call him T.C.
Providing they don't mention Scientology!

Obviously influenced by Carrie and (at least visually) by Argento's Inferno, Fulci delivers his trademark oppressive atmosphere, over the top gore and saucy sleaze which makes up for the inane dialogue and muddy plotting that plagues the production at times but let's be honest as none of the negatives really matter seeing as Aenigma is - like the great man himself - a joy from start to finish.

And if that's not enough to convince you then just imagine - like I do - that the opening lyrics were actually written in tribute to Fulci himself:

“Put on your make-up, your eyes are blue enough, tonight is special for you... You’re true...” .

















































*I'm taking a wild geographical stab here seeing as Yugoslavia doesn't actually exist anymore** and more importantly I can't be arsed looking it up.

**A wee bit like your parents love for you doesn't.

(bloody) moonhead.

It's the penultimate 31 Days of Horror post so wanted to build up to Halloween with a classic when I noticed this review languishing unloved on about page 735 of the blog.

Yes I know everyone should have seen it but who knows there may be a wee boy reading who has never experienced the sheer joy of....

Bloody Moon (1981).
Dir: Jesus Franco.
Star: Olivia Pascal, Christop Moosbrugger, Nadja Gerganoff and some other folk with made up names.

It's almost the witching hour, the moon is full and the night is as quiet as the grave.

Suddenly the deathly silence is broken by the squeak of a wheelchair trundling thru' the dark shadows and a woman's angry voice: "Miguel!... I'm your sister, don't look at me that way!"

The pudding bowl haircutted and facially fucked Miguel (Moosbrugger wearing what looks like a bucket of dried horse cum on his cheeks) stands in the moonlight dribbling as his sexy (in a 70's breasted way) sister Manuela (the local nosed Olivia Pascal) continues to berate him before ordering him back to the local dance club in the hope that all that jiving will make him far too tired to start wanking in her underpant drawer later.

Wandering among the hip 'n' happening party goers he picks up not only a pound shop Mickey Mouse mask but a sexy disco diva to boot and the pair soon head back to her chalet for some steamy and sweaty sex.

Well it is a short film.

Unfortunately at the moment of climax she pulls off his mask to reveal the aforementioned heavily scarred (and atrociously haircutted) Miguel leering over her like Jimmy Savile in a creche.

Annoyed at the fact that she finds his face scary (especially after the intimate moments they've just shared) he decides that rather than sort the misunderstanding out over a nice cup of tea it'd be easier to stab her to death with a pair of scissors.

As one would.

Hilarity unfortunately does not ensue.

Years later he is released from 'hospital' into his sister's care, allegedly cured and ready to return to society.

Just one thing the doctor's warn her, "...avoid references to that unfortunate night. He might not be that cured."

Which is nice.

Obviously the best thing to do is to take Miguel back to the scene of the murder, (now open as The International Youth-Club Boarding School of Languages, run by Miguel's wheelchair bound mum).

So dear viewer let's sit back and see what happens.

Luckily for those of us who like to take the piss out of those less fortunate than ourselves the school is populated by the biggest collection of freaks this side of a Todd Browning convention.

Or Govan on Giro day.

Well on any day really.

Admit it, Glasgow girls are best.

There's the grunting handyman, Paco, a beast of a bloke obsessed with hitting sign posts randomly with hammers whilst rubbing his crotch; a slug murdering gardener; a twitchy, ferret like head professor and a South American studly tennis tutor with a permanent hard on and a never ending line of ladies willing to sit on it.

Good job then that all the students are female and decked out in crotch splitting hot pants, Farrah flicks and skin tight tee's, coming out with such quality lines as: "The best way to learn a language is in bed!"

There are actually a few more quality lines but to be honest my computer was sick as I typed them.

"Put it in me!"

Miguel meanwhile, has become obsessed by the raven haired (yet shark toothed) Angela (Gerganoff), a girl he sat opposite on the train journey to the school and begins to follow her around like a lovesick (and bowl-head) puppy.

Awww.

Feeling sexually renewed (alright just downright horny) by these pangs of young love and realising that it will come to nothing, our scarred sibling decides to ask Manuela if they can continue their incestuous relationship (as you would), even going as far as to attempt a sexy seduction by licking the grit from between her toes.

Pascal: Pig in a market.

After taking a minute to think about it (and no doubt about what happened last time) she refuses.

Miguel is heartbroken (and maybe, just maybe a teensy bit mad): "Only if we could get rid of everyone, then things could go back to the way they were." He cries.

Then the fun really begins as Angela's friends are dispatched one by one.....oh and someone cuts a grass snake in half.

Unfortunately for our heroine, nobody believes her story of a killer on campus.

But we know better obviously.

Don't leave me hanging!

The killer even goes so far as to hang one of Angela's pals in her cupboard but spitefully removes it before she can get help.

Confused and scared, Angela finally looks to Miguel's mum and sister for support - well, obviously not the mum, she can't support herself without sticks let alone Angela.

Will the killer be caught before it's too late?

Laugh now!

Bloody Moon is the mad, bad and dangerous to know idiot offspring of a sleazy late night kebab fueled shag between your average American slasher movie and a lonely homesick Italian giallo it's met in a dive bar and took back to a dirty hotel after first spiking it's drink.

A totally screwy mix of sex, violence and cack handed dubbing from Spain's busiest exploitation maestro, the great Jesus Franco, a man who would've filmed his elderly mother suffering a stroke if he thought there was a market for it.

"Blood in mah mooth!"

Franco spent his career churning out everything from sordid women in prison flicks to sordid lesbian vampire ones and who holds the record of being the 'director' with the most movies on the DPP ‘video-nasties’ list in the UK during the 80's.

The confused tone inherent in the film isn't helped by the fact that most of it is German financed but with a bizarro mix of (horrendously dubbed) Italian and Spanish actors whilst Franco appears to be nonchalantly working to his own agenda.


The money men obviously wanted a cheap and cheerful disco dancing, gory, mentalist murders teens flick whilst Franco has decided this was to be his homage to John Carpenter and (ye gads) Brian DePalma.


Everyone (except Jess, God love him) appears to be embarrassed by the whole thing, especially Olivia Pascal who doesn't even mention it on her resume (it's becoming a habit on here, dredging up serious actors shameful pasts).


The fact that she's done more dodgy porn than Robert Kurman and puts that on her CV says a lot about her experiences here.

Olivia Pascal:
we know where you live.

But saying that, any movie that's paid homage to by Pedro Almodovar (the death by circular saw scene is "quoted" in his laugh a minute Matador) is OK by me.

Trust me.....no StevieDee collection is complete without this movie.

Honest.

having a butchers.

For day 22 of the fairly tiresome 31 Days of Horror let's travel back in time and revisit a  classic of the cannibal/zombie/mentalist medic genre.

Or I could just review this instead.

Enjoy.

Zombi Holocaust (AKA: Doctor Butcher M.D: Medical Deviate, Island of the Last Zombies, Queen of the Cannibals, La Regina dei cannibali, Zombie Holocaust, 1979).
Director: Marino Girolami (or if you prefer, Frank Martin).
Cast: Ian (the kids school fees are how much?!!?) McCulloch, Sherry Buchanan, Alexandra Delli Colli, Peter O'Neil and Donald O'Brian.

"You nearly succeeded in ruining my life's work! I could easily kill you now. But I'm determined to have your brain!"

In a rain sodden (and badly lit) teaching hospital deep in the heart of New York City (the home from home for 80's lo-fi Italian movie makers, well at least for their films openings in order to convince folk that they're watching an American production) someone has been helping themselves to various body parts belonging to the cadavers marked for use in the daily anatomy class, much to the chagrin of the grumpy surgeon who uses the incidents as an excuse to shout "You've all failed!" at his students and fuck off down the pub.

Possibly.

"Fuck me! A wasp!"

The gorgeously glamorous (in an Kay's catalogue way) Lori Ridgway (the frighteningly fish lipped Delli Colli) and her colleagues are baffled by this spate of icky thefts and reckon that the answer must be prank playing students.

But lo, the truth is far more sinister - and it has to be said, oh so slightly racist - when they discover the token, bowl haired Asian doctor (who looks disturbingly like a porn movie version of Erik Estrada) is caught sitting in the dark eating a corpses heart.

Spooky.

Erik decides the best course of action is to evade capture by throwing himself out of a window then cunningly turning into a shop window mannequin before he hits the ground (with a satisfying plastic echo it has to be said).

Noel Edmonds discovers his hand twin.

After a leisurely trip to street level in the lift Ridgway bags the body and returns to work to start her examination.

Of the corpse that is, she's not taking her driving test or anything.

It's whilst examining the aforementioned corpse, that Ridgway — who also happens to be a student of anthropology, lucky that - recognizes a strange (for strange re: shite) tattoo on the dead man's chest—a tattoo that just happens to be (are you paying attention?) exactly the same as a symbol found on a ceremonial dagger she was given on her sixth birthday by the family housemaid when she lived on the tropical island of Kitkatoo.

Which by a strange coincidence is where the heart eating doc was from too.

Phew!

And if that wasn't plot contrivance enough it turns out that the dagger has recently been stolen!

I mean what are the chances of that?

"This outbreak of cannibalism could
be related to the killing moon".

Feeling there's more to this than just an isolated incident, Lori decides to ask famous scientific 'investigator' and generally suave stud muffin Dr. Peter Chandler (genre god and owner of the worlds best ginger comb-over McCulloch) for help in solving the macabre mystery.

After much ooing and aahing, Chandler reckons the best way to get to the bottom of things is to organize an all expenses paid holiday - sorry expedition - to the island alongside a crack team of experts (well alongside Lori, her assistant George (the credits say Peter O'Neal but I swear it's a pre Dead Ringers Jon Culshaw) and tough tomboy reporter Susan (the lank haired, boy trousered but infinitely bonkable Buchanan from Starcrash II and Tentacoli).

  

Non-entities one and all but infinitely more charismatic than anyone featured on I'm A Celebrity.

 

Mooooosssshhhhiiiiiiiii!!!!

Deciding to visit the big island next to Kitkatoo (Dogpoochone?) first our fantastic foursome spend a few days staying with the trampish Dr. Jeff Obrero (screen legend O'Brian, looking like Wilfrid Brambell's buffer brother), a piss stained and poo breathed gone to seed medical researcher with a great line in open neck shirts who's been living among the natives for years.

Well in their bins by the look of him.

"Aye son!"

Although stinky as hell, Obero still has some manners and after tea, cakes and a severed head (tho' it may have been a mouldy potato) in Laura's bed he offers not only the use of his boat but a trio of Beatle haired native bearers and his big cravated 'man friend' Moloto (Barrera, essaying his role in Zombie Flesh Eaters but in a cheaper outfit), as their guide.

As is the way in such movies, nothing goes according to plan. The boats engine overheats stranding the group not on the isle of Kitkatoo but on the smaller, slightly less dangerous and more like a playpark behind the director's house island of Kitkatoow...or so Moloto claims.

"Look at the dog!"

Chandler however is beginning to suspect that Moloto isn't being entirely honest about the situation but as he goes to confront the guide a loin-clothed band of scary cannibals jump out of the bushes and attack our heroes.

The native bearers are the first to fall (but isn't that always the way?) giving Chandler and co. time to leg it into the trees.

Contacting Dr. Obrero, the survivors are told to make their way to a handy abandoned church further inland and to lock themselves in whilst awaiting rescue.

Bunnet.

As Chandler and his merry (if slightly smaller than earlier) band make their way through the jungle - well, the producers garden - they seem surprised to find that the cannibals have been following them so react the way anyone would in that situation by standing around screaming as they wait for them to attack again.

After a particularly threadbare and school playground like struggle George ends up eyeless whilst slinky Susan (being the most attractive woman in the movie) is carried away by the arse bearing natives.

Suddenly (almost as if the director has remembered the films title) a gaggle of shuffling zombies turn up and scare the natives to buggery (not literally mind) and the survivors make it to the church - on time - to find Obrero waiting for them.

"Put it in me!"

Convincing the survivors that Susan is probably actually enjoying the attentions of the sausage fingered cannibals and that they should just forget about her, he hands Lori and Chandler a map showing the quickest way to New York and points them in the direction of a handy rubber dingy left on the beach and even tho' Chandler's suspicions of foul play are getting stronger by the second he decides that it probably would be safer to just head home and forget about everything.

Plus he realizes that it'll just be him and Lori in the dingy for weeks...the dirty wee dog.

His sinful thoughts of hot sea-based sex are interrupted tho when a zombie attacks them on the beach, leaving an angry (and no doubt sexually frustrated) Chandler to dispatch it with a handy outboard motor.

With a look of grim determination usually only seen in Sheepdogs our hero slowly realises that the only way he's ever gonna pull Lori is to solve the island mystery so with a heavy heart – and a raging horn - Chandler heads back to the church to confront the mad doctor......

With more cuts available than Richie Manic, Marino Girolami's cult classic is probably the only Italian gore-arama to feature not only cannibals but also zombies and a mad as a lorry doctor too, so you effectively get three movies for the price of one.

It's just a pity that none of them are any good.

On the plus side, Ian McCulloch is in it and as we all know he would never appear in anything too shady, standing around in a selection of Primark suits looking worriedly ginger (or is that gingerly worried) and let's be honest, he could stand around in his undies painting a wall and he'd still be infinitely watchable.

McCulloch: Ginger.

Donald O'Brian on the other hand is the complete antitheses of McCulloch's subtle acting style, a perfect example of an eye rolling, scenery chewing and wee stained madman. His fantastically realized Dr. Obrero is an utter joy, so convincing is his performance that you can almost taste his fishy breath.


Tho' luckily not his cheesy Doritos.

Of the other cast members, the plump mouthed star of Fulci's New York Ripper Alexandra Delli Colli is only there to look good in her cream suspenders whilst pouting, her most difficult acting scene being when she's required to look vaguely scared whilst a group of Filipino tramps smear her naked body in face paint and strap her to a big paper mache wheel.

Luckily she manages this with great aplomb I'm glad to say, whilst Sherry Buchanan comes across as a dirtier (but less mental and with more teeth) Margot Kidder.

Wearing her dads clothes and with hair that hasn't seen shampoo for about six months she still manages to exude an air of clumsy back alley sexual hi-jinks.

Even - well especially if I'm honest - when strapped to a table after being scalped which would be a tall order for most actresses. 

 

The rest of the cast are kinda just there really, which is enough I guess.

Buchanan: Just wait till the shampooing starts.

As for the cannibal tribe, well it's the first time I've ever seen scary natives dressed only in thongs fashioned from rashers of bacon and mop top wigs but who's to say this isn't a realistic depiction of an ancient civilization?

Not me that's for sure.

Now to the zombies hordes (well I say hordes but there are only five of them, one of which is the directors mum) who, with make up that is a triumph for the seven year old hired to produce it using only the contents of the class arts and craft cupboard and accompanied at all times by a synth score that consists mainly of samples of a small boy farting whilst a dog with throat cancer barks backwards these undead terrors are guaranteed to strike mild apathy into the hearts of even the most hardened viewers.

Essential viewing.

here's one i made earlier.

To celebrate the 60th birthday of Blue Peter, here's the Unwell guide to our top ten favourite presenters....EVER!

No 'laugh now' or 'mooth shite-in' here tho' because frankly Blue Peter is brilliant.

So there.

10. Peter (have you ever met Steven's tailor?) Purves.

9. Peter Duncan (donuts).

8. John (I never done it) Leslie.

7. Janet (Sophie) Ellis (Bexter's mum).

6. Simon Groom(ing kids on t'internet - not really).

5. Yvette Fielding (supersonic).

4. Val (up the casino) Singleton.

3. John (Beast Master) Noakes.

2. Konnie (meow meow meow) Huq.

1. Sarah Greene (gables).

snatch.

Day 16 of the glorious misadventure that is 31 Days of Horror and we've hit the good stuff.

This film is a bit of a lucky charm for this blog seeing as the first time I ever wrote about it the movies star actually left a comment.

This as you can imagine was a wee bit of a surprise.

Partly because it wasn't a threat of legal action but mainly because it meant someone had actually read it.

Who knows what may happen this time?

Lady Terminator (AKA Pembalasan ratu pantai selatan, Nasty Hunter, The Revenge of the South Seas Queen. 1988).
Dir: Jalil Jackson (AKA H. Tjut Djalil).
Cast: Barbara Anne Constable, Claudia Angelique Rademaker, Christopher J. Hart and dozens of people that the director possibly found in the street.

"I'm not a lady, I'm an anthropologist!"

Somewhere in the exotic south seas, the big of hips and high of hair evil queen of those very waters is kicking back in her cardboard castle, lounging around in a tasteful see-thru nightie and market stall mules, her armpit hair tastefully swaying in the breeze.

Understandably shattered after spending the evening murdering a variety of Burt Reynolds a-likes with her frighteningly poisonous - and serpent filled - vagina, her attempts to catch up with the latest gossip in Heat magazine is rudely cut short when a donkey cocked yet disturbingly scrawny bloke climbs in thru the window.

Wearing his granddad's pants.

Licking his thin sweaty lips he launches himself at (and onto) the queen for a wee bit of the old in and out.

The first of many such hellish moments of uncomfortable intercourse during this film I must add.

Indeed if you're of a weak or nervous disposition turn away now.

What your dad really gets up to on his work trips.

Whilst keeping the Queen occupied with some smooth armpit licking our hero manages to reach up into her fearsome fanny and pull out a huge snake which he then turns into a sword.

No, really.

Shocked (wouldn't you be?) by this turn of events, the Queen angrily orders him to change it back and pop it back up.

Oh and if he doesn't mind can he try and find her car keys whilst he's at it.

Determined to put an end to her fanny-based killings he throws the sword away whilst Queenie, in a perfect example of post sex pouting flounces off out of the window promising that: "In 100 years I will have my revenge on your Great Granddaughter" before promptly disappearing into the sea.

Aye hen.

Don't worry tho', the film isn't actually that short because what we've just witnessed is a 'prologue' that will lead - via some snazzy Letraset titles - to 'the modern day' (well, the mid 80s at least) where the bubble permed and bullet nippled student of things Tania (the frankly fantastic Constable) is spending her vacation scuba diving of the south seas coast.

Bizarrely it seems that her thesis is all about the legend of the Queen's infamous killer vagina and she's determined to find some evidence that it really did exist at any cost.

But - and isn't this always the way? - Tania at one point mistakes scuba-diving for getting tied to a cheap hotel bed clad only in a pair of huge pants meaning that before you know it the Queens snake has re-appeared and made its new home in the poor girls (lusciously maintained) lady garden, meaning our sexy student has transformed into an arse kicking, cock crushing unstoppable vixen of vengeance.

Ladies and gentlemen we present the Lady Terminator!

Or the Nasty Hunter to give Tania her alternative title.

Beware the Perminator.....Peow!

And her mission?
Why, to do bad stuff to that bloke from earliers Great Granddaughter, an up and coming popular music singer named Erica (the hamster cheeked Rademaker from, um, not much else) of course.

Cue copious amounts of man-based beatings and violence as or arse-kicking anti-heroine prowls the streets looking for revenge.

And some shiny lipgloss.

Back in the city - and the plot - the local police are at a loss to explain the huge amounts of half naked, bullet riddled and crush cocked corpses that have suddenly begun to litter the cities streets and cheaper hotel rooms, which is the perfect case for the manly Max (Hart, possibly the same one that's now a close-up magician but who really knows?), aided and abetted by his mulleted Israeli man-friend Snake.

Tania farted...and it smelled of shame.
Oh, and Brexit.

And so begins a race against time - and fashion - to prevent the bewitched Tania from extracting the Queens revenge.

Will Max and Snake succeed?

Or at least have a drunken fumble in the back of a car?

And will there be a failed attempt on Erica's life in a brutal (I say brutal but I meant to type cheap) attack in a discotheque followed by a mid-point fire fight in a police station Ala The Terminator?

You'll have to watch it to find out.

Ooh, I'm such a tease.

Thanks to a lucky economic boom in the late seventies (and an influx of cheap cameras and even cheaper foreign workers) coupled with a relaxation of it's up till now archaic and almost British censorship laws, Indonesia's fledgling film industry exploded in a multi-coloured garishly gory lo-fi exploitation movies that bizarrely mixed current Hollywood fads alongside themes and ideas unique to Indonesian culture creating some of the strangest (and in some cases dodgiest) movies ever to grace the big screen.

And the strangest of all must be Lady Terminator.

Not really stealing from the James Cameron hit The Terminator, more like breaking into its house and tying it spreadeagled to a table before sticking a toothbrush up its arse, H. Tjut Djalil's magnum opus cheekily lifts entire scenes, complete pages of dialogue and even certain camera angles from the Arnie blockbuster yet despite the almost non existent budget, manages to improve on the original by adding liberal doses of sex, nudity (and even some sexy nudity) to the mix creating a psychedelically charge psychotronic melting pot of pure grade A cinematic cheese.

And by God am I grateful to him for that.

Blood, breasts and bubble perms....what's not to love?

But the movies biggest asset (in more ways than one**) must be the presence of the statuesque Barbara Anne Constable, an actress whose range can go from frumpy bespectacled student to leather clad killing machine via a skimpy bikini and big pants without once batting an eyelid or breaking a sweat.

It's a crime against cinema - and teenage crushes - that she never made another movie.

We must hunt her down now and persuade her to returning to acting.

If not in films then at the very least we can all chip in a quid each, hire a camera and an old warehouse and get her to act out all of our leatherette, automatic weapon filled fantasies.

I mean how could she refuse?

Honestly if this isn't in your collection you should be ashamed of yourself.






And after all that you still need a reason to view this masterpiece then maybe, just maybe the fact that the credits feature this vaguely amusing caption may finally persuade you...

*prologue
1. A separate introductory section of a literary, dramatic, or musical work.
"the suppressed prologue to Women in Love"

"the prologue to his book on the harrowing contemporary history of West Bromwich"

2. An event or act that leads to another.
"the events from 1945 to 1956 provided the prologue to the post-imperial era"
Or
(in professional cycling) a short preliminary time trial held before a race to establish a leader.

"I got third in the prologue and eighth on the hardest stage"

You're welcome.




































**And in case you were wondering, the phrase 'in more ways than one' refers to the already mentioned fact that she was lead make-up artist on the film and is in no way a cheap reference to her stunning breasts.

Thank you.

water sports for all.

Bloody 'ell it's been an exciting few days over at Arena Towers, you see my computer hard drive died on Wednesday eve meaning I've not been able to update this whole 31 Days of Horror thing properly.


Not that anyone else would notice obviously.

Oh yes, and it's also meant that I've lost my entire work reference library and my complete portfolio.

Which is nice.

Anyway with that in mind here's a fairly short review for you now seeing as it's late here and I'm on the verge of a breakdown blogging from my phone and fighting off a huge Autie meltdown.

It never rains.



The Girls Rebel Force of Competitive Swimmers (AKA: Joshikyôei hanrangu, Nihombie 2, Nihonbi 2, Undead Pool, Inglorious Zombie Hunters. 2006)
Dir: Kôji Kawano.
Cast: Mizuka Arai (AKA Chieri Haruyama), Sasa Handa, Yuria Hidaka, Hiromitsu Kiba, Ayumu Tokitô and Hidetomo Nishida (There are many more folk too but I just can't be arsed listing them).

Aki (Handa, the button nosed 'star' of a number of Juicy Honey collectable card sets - well it's a living I guess) a former 'aqua terrorist' (Wait....what? You mean they go around committing atrocities to the strains of Barbie Girl?) has decided to turn over a new leaf and give up her exciting international jetset life of crime to enjoy a normal, everyday one as a schoolgirl at a top Japanese school.

Unfortunately Aki's first day is anything but normal.

Well I'm assuming it's not normal but seeing as I went to a comprehensive in the midlands and not one in downtown Tokyo I can only guess.

You see not only do her new classmates decide that her welcome party should involve our cutie honey heroine being pushed into the swimming pool whilst still fully clothed (teasing bastards) but just as she's climbed out and dried off there's a sudden and inexplicable outbreak of a particularly virulent virus on campus that makes all those infected start to spew strawberry sauce from every orifice and begin to smell like a zoo.

OK the last bit seemed pretty normal as far as my school days went.

"Has anybody got any cans of orange juice?"

Anyway with one of those strange quirks of fate - and convenient scripting -  that only ever happen in 'the movies' an emergency medical team, consisting of a scarily familiar, to Aki at least, doctor and stern yet shapely thighed nurse, suddenly appear from nowhere to assist the pupils and administer a vaccine.

Which would be good thing really if it didn't appear to make everyone's symptoms oh so slightly worse.

And by slightly worse I mean that the vaccine turns everyone into scabby, short skirted flesh eating zombies.

Luckily it doesn't give them 'The Autism' tho'.

Yeah fuck you Andrew Wakefield.*

As luck (and pervy plotting) would have it, Aki soon discovers that the chlorine in the school swimming pool counteracts the effects of the virus, meaning that as long as adorable Aki remains in her tight fitting swimsuit (and stays soaking wet obviously) she's safe from infection.

Sounds legit.

Doing what anyone would do in this situation, Aki persuades the (mostly attractive) school swim team to suit up and hose down ready for battle against not only the every increasing army of the undead but also her musically minded former boss and mentor who has cunningly disguised himself (well, he's wearing a lab coat) as the 'friendly' doctor helping the infected.

You see, it turns out that the virus is all his doing but this is only part of his sick scheme.

A sick scheme that also involves touching the smooth and milky white secret lady gardens of as many young girls as possible.

Whilst playing a flute.

You know, this is actually becoming more and more like my school days by the minute.

"Fiona! Where's mah lunch?"

Rushing headlong into battle against the evil doctor, Aki and her soggy sisters - surprisingly - get a damn good beating, leaving our heroine lying vacant eyed in a pool of blood ready to be munched on by any passing zombie.

Fear not tho' dear readers, as luckily she's rescued by her shy (well up till this point) new best friend Sayaka (former Bukkake star Yuria Hidaka) and, in an act of kidness that will bring tears to viewers everywhere, nursed back to health with a mixture of noodle soup and having her breasts gently rubbed by her pal.

How sweet is that?

No need.

Scoff all you want at this fairly unrealistic and decidedly non-medical approach to healing because it seems to do the trick as in no time at all Aki is sitting up in bed and sharing her sad tale of life as a killer for hire whilst fastening the buttons on her flimsy white school shirt, the material straining to contain her honey dew breasts**.

Probably.

What follows is quite possibly the greatest fusion of dodgily translated subtitles, inappropriate incidental music and meaningful flashback sequences ever committed to celluloid, featuring as it does slo-mo shots of Aki firing a machine gun whilst wearing a bikini, popping a butterfly knife into her pants, doing sweaty push ups with what looks like an orange in her mouth and sitting around topless looking bored.

Sheer genius.




Or totally unnecessary pseudo-pornographic pants. 


I honestly don't know.

"I've found the cars keys!"

The whole sorry tale is too much for the sensitive Sayaka who, with tears in her eyes reacts the only way she can.

And that's by stripping herself and Aki naked save their tiny pleated kilts before indulging in a totally realistic and completely essential to the plot lesbian sexy scene whilst moaning loudly.

And biting her lip at the point of - badly faked - orgasm obviously.

"All this fiddling and I still can't find 6 Music!"

Ready for battle (and probably another lie down) Aki is set to face her nemesis one final time.

Will she emerge triumphant?

And, most importantly will she be naked?

Kôji Kawano, director of the classic teen lesbian drama Love My Life and the soya-based shocker Cruel Restaurant appears to have knocked out this lo-fi sleaze epic in a few hours between bouts of online gaming and frantic masturbation sessions, seeing as it consists solely of cheap gore and violence, random bouts of nudity and an abundance of soft core lesbianism aimed fairly and squarely at the 'I've never seen a lady naked except my mum' demograph.

Which frankly is a public service that must be applauded.

Seen as part of a - very - loose undead vs schoolies trilogy that includes Zombie Self-Defense Force and Zombie Hunter Rika, The Girls Rebel Force of Competitive Swimmers is by no means perfect, it would be churlish (and a wee bit geeky) to point out this movies flaws and weaknesses when your average viewer is only watching for a glimpse of the square faced, hamster cheeked dream girl Sasa Handa's breasts.

And let's be honest if you're planning to watch this in anything but a kinda post-ironic way you won't really care.

So I wont.

Handa: Chinny Rackon.

Running at a pain free eighty minutes tho' it never outstays it's welcome (unlike your mum) and the budget, although lower than John Leslie at Crufts is enough to make sure that things never looks too cheap and director Kawano spends most of it's scant run time wildly throwing ever more bizarre characters and situations at the screen hoping at least a few will stick and cover the cracks.

When he's not filling the screen with his cast of - at times painfully - cute milky thighed wannabe AV Idols in various states of undress that is.

Ayumu Tokitô: she'll even turn the milk chocolaty.

But it's not all sex and violence tho' because it also has some juggling, alongside fire breathing zombies and a flute playing pervert in a lab coat.

Still not sold?

Well give me another film that features all this plus a heroine with a deadly laser beam built into her vagina.

I'll wait.


Go on, you know you want to.























 *And an even bigger FUCK YOU to anyone sad enough to think they cause it in the first place....rant over.







**If I'm honest I don't even know what that means.