i am the claw

Today's 31 Days of Horror is almost a tribute of sorts to Jodie Whittaker's final fling as Doctor Who* (our youngest is obsessed with rewatching that episode at the moment and we're on half-term holiday so I've seen it about 40 times this week) seeing as this also features a charisma-free blonde fighting a cheap and totally unrealistic monster in a volcano whilst pretending to care about the environment.

And yes, I am still bitter over what they did to the show. 

 

Alien From The Deep (1989).

Dir: Anthony M. Dawson (AKA Antonio Margheriti).

Cast:  Daniel Bosch, Marina Guilia Cavalli, Charles Napier, Luciano Pigozzi, Robert Marius and Don 'The Dragon' Wilson.

No really.

Bob: The danger is gone! The danger is OVER!!

Somewhere in a boating lake near the directors house, no nonsense environmental activist - and part-time underwear model -  Jane (Cavalli - imagine if you will Patricia Arquette drawn from memory but with way too much attention spent on her thighs) alongside her bleach-barnetted best bud and cameraman Lee (the late, great Marius from Warriors of the Apocalypse and Driving Force) are traveling to a remote island in order to expose the evil and decidedly environmentally unfriendly E-Chem company who they've discovered are dropping drums of toxic waste into a volcano for some reason never explained.

In charge of operations at E-Chem is the permanently angry, Budweiser supping (I'm sure there's a sponsorship deal going on) Colonel Kovacks (massive mouthed ginger prince Napier who was in everything from First Blood, to Silence of The Lambs via Austin Powers and your nans bed) who, when not accusing his security guards of not having any balls angrily threatens to cut the balls off any scientists who ever question him.

Seriously the entire film is testicle obsessed, even Jane keeps talking about how she has the biggest balls of anyone around.

Which in this day and age I'm not sure is deeply disturbing or stunning and brave.

Don't bother writing in to tell me which, I genuinely don't care.

"Aya....mah BCG!"

Anyway talking of testicles, the facilities chief scientist Dr. Geoff Geoffrey (genre whore Pigozzi, best known for skulking about in his pants in the classic Yor) warns Kovacks that all the shite that they're shoving into the volcano is sending plumes of radioactive energy into space and that there's a good chance that if aliens exist, one might turn up to fight them in order to get more/stop them releasing all the energy.

Or something.

Kovacks of course reckons he's talking shite.

Whilst all this science-based chat is going on, Jane and Lee have not only had a meal with the local vicar but also managed to break into the chemical facility and get enough video evidence to put Kovacks and co. in prison for a fairly long time.

Unfortunately the pair are spotted on camera and Lee is taken prisoner after hiding the videocassette behind a bin whilst Jane escapes by hiding under a dog blanket in the back of a helicopter before, in a scene that'd make the Bond stunt team shrug slightly (probably), jumping into a river and straight into the arms (sort of) of the slightly predatory (it was acceptable in the 80s) Bob (Bosch from Good morning Babilonia and Rossini! Rossini!), a bespectacled, shotgun wielding snake wrangler who lives in a caravan in the jungle. 

Seems legit.

No need.

 

After some flirty banter, a shower and a candle lit meal for two (plus a few cans of Budweiser of course) the pair make a plan to rescue Lee (and the tape) from the E-Chem facility which sounds dead exciting till you realise that the plan literally involves walking up to the front door, knocking the aforementioned front door and asking if they can have their friend back.

Surprisingly this works but unfortunately Kovacks has been pumping Lee full of 'the drugs' so he can't actually remember who he is, let alone where he left the tape so the pair grumpily drag him off to a nearby cave to recover.

Meanwhile back at E-Chem central Dr. Geoffrey is excitedly informing Kovacks that he was right about the aliens thing earlier as it appears that one may have landed in the pond outside the base the night before.

Obviously no-one saw it tho' because it was dark.

hmmm.

Being either really gullible or really bored Kovacks orders some divers to investigate but within minutes of hitting the water (and in a flurry of grainy, out of focus footage the unfortunate fellows bob to the surface having been melted by something in the water much to the chagrin of the poor bloke driving the boat who in a vain attempt to rescue them inadvertently hooks a huge great dildo instead which proceeds to fire stinky gunk all over his face causing him to lose control of the boat.

And no doubt his bladder.

Well, that's Nan's Christmas present sorted.

 

In an attempt to control the situation and not panic his staff Kovacks shoots the poor bugger in the face, causing the boat to crash into the dock and explode before helpfully calming Geoffrey's fear of an impending alien invasion/nuclear meltdown by explaining that “This is war and that’s something I know a lot about.”

I feel safer already.

"Not the face luv!"

 

Back at the cave, Jane and Bob have gone out to get some snacks leaving Lee to sleep off his drug hit, unfortunately his rest is disturbed by a huge plastic claw bursting out of the ground and covering him in even more green gunk that leaves him looking like a moldy half chewed Toffee, albeit one that screams and shits itself as Bob bravely attempts to shoot at the claw from a nearby rock.

Jane is fuck all help as she almost immediately trips over and sprains her ankle - the obvious extra weight from actually wearing trousers is just too much for her ickle fin legs.

You'll be amazed when I tell you that Bob's boomstick actually scares the creature away but both he and Jane are shocked when upon approaching Lee with a box of sticking plasters and a Lemsip he informs them that the goo is in fact mutating him and making him one with the creature or something.

This is almost completely forgotten and never mentioned again, especially by Lee who runs away and throws himself off a cliff.

Hel-met.

With most of the running time over and the film lurching toward it's climax Bob and Jane decide to break back into E-Chem to steal back the tape whilst Dr. Geoffrey and Kovacks attempt to come up with a plan to stop the creature.

Oh and find the tape too.

It never rains...

 

"I can see your house from here Peter!"

 

Will Bob and Jane succeed in finding the video-cassette? 

Will Jane end up stripped to her big white Granny pants again?

Will Kovacks stop shouting?

Will Geoffrey invent a special flame thrower to absorb the hydrogen in the air and use it to try and suffocate the creature?

Or will the movie end up like a bizarre Bob The Builder/Aliens mash up as Jane attempts to run the beast over in a big yellow digger?

 

From Italian film god and Unwell favourite Antonio Margheriti comes a genre defying (or is that defiling?) mad monster mash (up) that takes it's cues from literally every other film he's made plus a few Hollywood hits to boot....it's Predator meets Aliens via the directors own The Last Hunter and Mission Stardust with members of the Yor cast (and bits of the set) throw in for good measure and from it's Thunderbirds inspired model work to it's utter ambition over budget giant alien reveal it's a fucking glorious thing to behold. 

And the fact that it's so enjoyable seeing as it was made at the arse-end of the whole Italian exploitation era somehow makes it better - a (ever so slightly) tarnished jewel in the crown of quality film-making from a bygone era where men were men, women wandered around in big pants and science types twitched their way thru' every scene.

Oh and very occasionally there'd be a wee bit of blatant misogyny but you can't have everything I guess and at least here it's confined to Marina Guilia Cavalli in her pants.

So swings and roundabouts really.

Marina Guilia Cavalli - Hotter than your Mum...and mine too if I'm honest.

Acting wise everyone gives exactly what you'd expect but kudos to Don 'The Dragon' Wilson in a (very) early role as a scientist sporting THE greatest onion hair ever committed to celluloid  who also manages to hold his own against the always fantastic Charles Napier who, if not chewing the scenery, at least entices it into the back of his car to give it a sexy nibble.

Recommendation factor: high!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*Taking about the children's hero that adults adore (which I do quite often, sorry) I was recently reminded of the fact that back in the late 80s Amicus stalwart Milton Subotsky attempted to make a third Doctor Who film entitled 'Doctor Who's Greatest Adventure' which was actually a repurposed script of a horror film entitled 'King Crab' - itself an attempted big screen adaptation of Guy N. Smith's 'Night of the Crabs'.....I like to think that this film was actually made in some bizarro alternate universe.

Because I'm really sad obviously.

the return of bruno.

Recently realised it's been too long since I gorged myself on the genius that is Bruno Mattei so thought I'd dip into his sticky back catalogue and dredge up some old reviews in the hope of attracting some new readers.

Or any readers if I'm honest.

 

Island of the Living Dead (AKA L'Isola dei morti viventi. 2006)
Dir: Bruno Mattei (as Vincent Dawn).
Cast: Yvette Yzon, Franco Miguel, James L. Gaines Sr, Ronald Russo, Ydalia Suarez, Alvin Anson, Gary King Roberts, Curtis Carter and Thomas Wallwort. Stars one and all.

Why can't more films have artwork like this?

Many years ago on a mysterious Spanish ruled island a group of (strangely Filipino looking) Conquistadors are having a wee bit of bother with the witch doctor and his chums.

You see, it seems that as soon as anyone dies they immediately come back to life as pasty faced angry zombie/vampire/general undead thing.

Which is nice.

The forts soldiers are having the worst of it tho', seeing as they've got the incredibly monotonous job of piling the corpses onto the back of a wagon just to see them re-animate and wander off again.

Slightly annoyed by this turn of events, the islands captain decides it'd be much easier to shoot them in the head and set fire to them.

Which would be great if one of his overzealous pals hadn't decided to torch the curtains too.

Confused whether to be more afraid of the undead hordes outside or the chance of burning to death, the entire garrison of terrorized soldiers flee....running straight into a band of sword wielding, zombie pirates.

Don't you just hate it when that happens?

Is your hair all you let down when you have a drink?

Meanwhile, in 'the modern times' (did you really think that Mattei would have the cash to do a period piece?) the good ship Dark Star - a very expensive salvage/research vessel cunningly disguised as an old tug - and it's hearty crew are busy combing the ocean floor for discarded Ferrero Rocher boxes to sell to rich collectors on the chocolate box black market.

No really.

It's not been going too well this trip tho' as after 6 months at sea all they've found are a few old tins, a used condom and a bit of wood so with morale at an all time low (they've obviously not read the rest of the script) the crew decide to give up and go home for tea and biscuits.

Of a non-soggy kind obviously.

But just as they're about to put the boat in reverse the team's pocket sized scientist Sharon (the yumsome Yvette Yzon) announces that shes located a submerged sweet shop chock full of booty.

Tho' none as stunning as hers it has to be said.

We wont say that tho' as it would be a wee bit sexist.

So there.

Anyway, all is going swimmingly, until that is the crew begin to raise the big plastic model of the ambassadors reception that houses all the still sealed Rocher's and pop it on board.

After a flying start the ambassador's legs drop off  causing all the chocolate to go cascading back into the sea.

Discouraged and a little disheartened for about five minutes, the crew decide to crack open a beer and break out the Pringles before realizing that the could just go to a cash and carry and easily purchase a mountain of fresh Ferrero Rocher and with that thought begin heading home.

But there's even more bad luck on the horizon, a spooky mist has enveloped the vessel forcing it to run aground on a mysterious, uncharted island.

The ships drink sozzled captain, the unfortunately named Kirk (the gone to seed David McCallum lookalike that is Sir Ronald of Russo), decides that they'd better explore whilst Max the bubble permed engineer (Wallwort) stays on board to drink Lilt and shout at the engines in a vague mix of cliché and slightly racist characterizing.

Inside Nicola Sturgeon's mind.

Arriving on a deserted beach the crew do what is expected in any horror movie worth its salt and decide to split up to explore.

Sexy Sharon, tubby George Galloway wannabe Mark (Roberts) plus the hulking, bleached blond (and oh so slightly fey) Tao (Miguel) will go and search for food and water, whilst the ever more tipsy Captain Kirk, cool guy Fred (Anson, looking like the long lost son of Erik Estrada), shouty and permanently pre-judging Victoria (pouting, poppy eyed popstrel Suarez famous for her massive hits including Stars in Love) along with the superbad mo-fo Snoopy (Gaines) go looking for other stuff.

Seriously you need a notepad to keep track of this cast.

Making their way thru' the thick jungle vegetation (oh OK then, a local kiddies adventure playground) Sharon and co. stumble across an old an old cemetery (as well as their dialogue) shrouded in the same ghostly fog that enveloped the ship before it ran aground.

And slowly lurching out of that mist towards them is a shambling figure that may have once been a man.

Well technically it is still a man, he's just dead but writing "And slowly lurching out of that mist towards them is a shambling figure that upon further inspection is just a normal guy who happens to be dead yet walking" really doesn't have the same sinister ring to it does it?

"Aaarrgghhh...this isn't what I meant

by taking me up the casino!"

Sharon, obviously thinking that the scene needs a wee bit more tension, decides to stand perfectly still allowing the putrefying tramp to get close enough to grapple her to the ground (perhaps she likes a bit of rough?) and thus giving Mark a chance to shine as he trips over a plywood gravestone before screaming for help.

Luckily Tao is a champion kick boxer who's been itching for a fight since they arrived on the island, so he's more than happy to jump in and fight the undead groper whilst his two colleagues leg it to safety and leave him to get bitten to death.

Friends eh? I think we can safely say that they weren't there for him.

Elsewhere on the island, the crusty Captain Kirk (I'm sorry, but it makes me laugh just typing it) and his merry band have discovered the overgrown ruins of the Spanish outpost.

Taking tentative steps into the dark, dank interior, Fred manages to go crashing thru the floor, falling headfirst into a dusty torture chamber full of joke shop skeletons, pound shop candles and a mysterious book bound in pigs ear and inked in Crayola.

Kirk, showing off reads a few pages, pointing at the illustrations and making animal noises as he goes.

Snatching the book from his hand (why is she so impatient? Does she have a prior appointment?) Victoria begins to translate the passages not covered in crude nob drawings or shite revealing that the tome she is holding is the infamous Book Of The Dead that foretells of a time when the dead will return to life and devour the living.

Been done, hasn't it?

Beware the binmen!

Back on board the boat, Max is onto his twelfth can of pop and passing gas like a steam engine as his vain attempts to repair the engines - by rubbing them whilst shouting abuse at anyone within earshot (i.e. himself mainly) - comes to nothing.

Hearing a banging on deck, as well as noticing a faint whiff of cabbage mixed with stale urine, he assumes that Kirk has come back to check up on his progress, so as you would imagine Max is rather surprised when a gaggle of undead Spaniards start tottering down the engine room steps toward him licking their stringy lips in anticipation.

Understandably he begins to panic and, whilst attempting to escape accidentally hits the 'blow the ship up' lever.

What do you mean real ships don't have one of those?

Bruno would never lie.

"Ron Resrie!"

The resulting explosion brings everyone running back to the shore just in time to see what looks like a giant paper cut-out of the Dark Star sink slowly beneath an almost hypnotically undulating blue bedsheet, leaving the brave crew trapped on a zombie infested island for the foreseeable future.

If not longer.

 

Kirk and co. must quickly find a safe haven for the night if they're to survive on this mysterious, undead filled island.....

Or this?

Aah, good old Bruno Mattei, whilst most of his contemporaries gave up on the zombie horror genre after the bubble burst in the late eighties, Bruno decided to soldier on, partly in the hope of topping his magnum opus Zombie Creeping Flesh but mainly because he really, really liked zombie films.

Which I say fair play to, I mean as Susan Boyle said (or maybe she didn't, I just make most of this shit up) everyone needs to dream.

And it was this dream took him from his native homeland of Italy to the temperate jungles of the Philippines via the guerrilla realm of digital video technology and top quality local totty.

And the results were well worth the plane fees.

With it's wafer thin plot, copious amounts of stock footage and rough edged special effects, Island of the Living Dead resurrects the golden age of the shlock horror zombie genre, dragging it kicking and screaming into the straight to DVD age.

And it seems nothing has changed except the ethnicity of the actors involved.

But trust me, dear reader when I tell you that this is, in fact, a good thing.

 

Yzon: you would. Twice.

Featuring a heady mix of zombies along with an ample helping of vampirism, Voodoo and a snatch of flamenco dancing, Mattei bravely sticks to what he does best, which of course is churning out no-budget horror 'epics' whose plots are straining under the miniscule budgets involved.

Which goes to prove once and for all that God does indeed love a trier.

As do I.

Steps have let themselves go.

Worth a looksie for the first appearance of latter day Mattei muse Yvette Yzon (star of the sequel Zombies: The Beginning and Anima Persa) alone, Island of the Living Dead is an off coloured, moss stained gem of a movie, worthy of a place in the tarnished crown of Italian undead epics.

Unless you've been force fed a diet of David Robert Mitchell/Rob Zombie movies when frankly you shouldn't even be wasting my time reading this.

Go on, treat yourself today.

Then clean yourself up and go purchase this.

You know you want to.

anthony and the (lack of) johnsons.

Day 10 of 31 days of horror and the kids have picked todays movie. 

Enjoy.

W is For WAR! (1983).
Dir: Willie Milan (as Wilfredo Milan).
Cast: Anthony Alonzo, Anna Marie Gutierrez, Alicia Alonzo, Ada Alberto, Jonee Gamboa, Renato del Prado, Edwart Bronet, Paul Vance, Al Alonzo, Linda Castro, Den Montero, Rommel Valdez, Bing Davao and literally dozens of other folk that frankly I really couldn't be arsed looking up.

You want a full cast list? then fuck off to Sight and Sound or somewhere like that.

Oh go on then, Jimmy Santos is in it too.

And token Yank Richard Jones.

"I put my ass on the line while you sit back and polish your medals!"

The time: the near future where the mean streets of Manila are under threat from an evil gang of guitar strumming, leather clad, slap-headed, motor-biking drug pushers (phew) who like nothing better than driving into the city centre to have a dance.

Oh yeah and sometimes deal arms.

But it must be said mainly dance.

And it's during one afternoons particularly complicated dance off - that the local police, led by sexy sergeant Wally Lucas - codename: W2 - (mustachioed action god and former councilor of Quezon City, Alonzo) 'accidentally' shoot one of the gang in the face as he performs the macarena, leaving W2's boss, the permanently grumpy Chief Doug Medina (Daddy Di Do Du's Gamboa) with no choice but to suspend W2 from the force and hope the whole thing blows over.

I really had trouble suspending my disbelief at this point, I mean as if the police would go about shooting innocent bystanders in the face eh?

Relax ladies, he's single (and been dead since 1998).

Unfortunately the dead man in question was the brother of the gangs notoriously family orientated leader, the vile despot Terry Nesfero (Montero in his one and only screen role, which is a shame as I could imagine him making a bomb in the gay porn scene), who not too surprisingly declares all out war, vowing revenge on W2.

Bored with not being able to go around bullying old people, shout at small children and shooting folk indiscriminately W2 decides to break the monotony of his suspension by marrying his mono-browed squeeze Vera (Gutierrez, the hamster faced star of For Your Height Only and Scorpio Nights) in a quiet little ceremony at the local scout hut.

Aw, how sweet.

If not a wee bit cheap.

But you never know, he might have spent all the money on a fantastic honeymoon.

One Direction: The arse banditary years.

Arriving at the local out of season Pontins, W2 and Vera are unaware that that shiny light they keep spotting in the distance isn't the local dance hall's disco ball at all but is, in fact the sun reflecting off Nesfero's bald pate as he and his squad of camp commandos watch them from a distance.

After a spot of dinner and a bottle of Buckfast in the camps fish and chip shop, our horny honeymooners head back to their caravan for a night of hot love and Barry White only to be interrupted mid thrust by Nesfero and his lecherous henchmen.

Obviously turned on by bushy eyebrows and forest like lady gardens Nesfero violently violates Vera's arse before offering his entire posse a shot of sloppy seconds as W2 looks on helplessly.

What an utter bastard.

But Nesfero has one final act of revenge to perform and in a scene that would make even George Eastman cringe he pulls out a rusty tin opener and (messily) castrates our hero.

Ouch.

"I spy with my little eye..."

Waking up in the hospital, W2 is horrified to discover that not only do his trousers not sit right but that he'll never be able to make love to his wife again.

Or yours.

Depressed and with a slightly higher voice than normal W2 slowly heads home for a life of (non-masturbatory) TeeVee watching and big packets of Dorito's.

The tissues and Pot Noodles consigned to the bin.

Nothing is ever simple for our sackless superstar tho' when one morning he accidentally walks in on his wife pleasuring herself with the showerhead, causing him to fly into a violent rage run off into the bushes where he conveniently runs comes across (he wishes) Nesfero and his band who've been sitting around waiting to hijack the local opium delivery van.

Imagine it....it'd be like shagging Patrick Stewart up the arse but without having to worry about giving him a reach round.

Enjoying himself so much last time, Nesfero gets straight down to torturing our hapless chum, stringing him upside down between four wooden poles before forcing him to watch dodgy home-made porn projected onto a nearby filthy bedsheet.

That for once doesn't feature your younger sister.

Luckily when Nesfero goes out for a pee, W2 is rescued by a disillusioned member of the gang, the strangely attractive (in a kinda smooth skinned, kissy lipped lady boy way) Pratings (Alberto, an actress so famous she has a Resident Evil character named after her, well it's one more than Julia Roberts has).

Her ample breast trying their damnedest to break free of her tight fitting leather waistcoat Pratings breathlessly explains to W2 how, thanks to the evils of drugs Nesfero has gone from being a slightly camp street dancer to an evil rapist with delusions of devilness.

See kids, drugs DO screw you up.

But not half as much as shite cinema obviously.

Worried about the whereabouts of her husband (but making sure she's finished herself off good and proper first) Vera heads into town to visit the funky cold Medina who quickly assigns special agent V1 (Davao, best known as Matt Cordero in the hit teevee show Kung tayo'y magkakalayo) to the case, ordering him to get to the bottom of W2's disappearance.


However good he is in the field doesn't make up for V1's apparent hearing problems tho' as the next thing we know he's hard at work getting jiggy on Vera's ample bottom.

An easy mistake to make.

Unfortunately for the dirty duo just as V1 is about to fire a pint of his stale smelling mayonnaise-like gunk up Vera's shit encrusted pack passage, who should walk in but W2.

And he's not a happy man.

Shouting like a very loud shouty thing, he chucks his wife out into the street before turning his attentions to a by now floppy V1 who stands there trying to look defiant whilst attempting to stop a handful of spunk trickle down his wrist.

Anthony Alonzo enjoys a good ear fisting from Jeanette Krankie. But then again, who wouldn't.

But before we get any man on man wrestling action, Pratings bravely steps in and informs the boys that Nesfero's opium shipment is due in the next hour, giving W2, V1, Pratings and some other alphabetized crime fighters time to organize a plan and steal the shipment.

I say organize a plan but they basically turn up at the rendezvous point and shoot everyone which pisses of Nesfero's boss, the evil Harry Praxis (Ninja Warriors Vance) no end.

Slowly losing the (admittedly wafer thin) plot Nesfero decides the best way to get (even more) revenge on W2 is to take an entire Catholic school (but the only one in the world devoid of sexy schoolgirls) hostage, threatening to kill all the kiddies unless Medina hands over both the the opium and W2.

Oh and sends in a crate of Tizer and some salted nuts.

W2, obviously having had enough shit for one lifetime let alone a weekend, decides to lock himself in his garage to get slowly drunk and maybe do some DIY.

But when local (in all senses of the word) news reporter Alice's (Alonzo's real-life sister Alicia) rash attempt at trying to get an interview with the vile villain gets both her and her hostage daughter killed, W2 comes out of hiding and, armed with only a home made rocket launcher, clad in body armour made entirely of saucepans and driving an second hand taxi covered in old soup tins, decides to face off to Nesfero and his gang one last time....

Nuttier than squirrel shit, cheaper than your mum and with a script written by a committee of horny, 14 year old boys (and one angry lesbian disguised as a horny boy) W is for War! is quite possibly the loopiest action movie ever to escape from the far off land of the Philippines.

Trust me I know, I've even seen The Twilight People.

Directed (loosely) by the legendary Willie Milan (of Ultimax Force fame) and edited by a blind hook-handed sailor, the film manages to cram in more outrageously bonkers ideas than you'd get from a roomful of crack-addled quantum physicists being poked with frozen twine yet still make more sense than an average episode of Hollyoaks.

Which in itself is no mean feat.

"Aya! mah BCG!"

From it's castrated leading man to the gayest post-apocalyptic warlord ever seen on celluloid, W is For War! has something for the whole family to enjoy;

Hilariously stilted (and oft repeated) dialogue?

Check.

Mindlessly messy violence?

Check.

Infanticide?

Check.

Skin tight, flesh tone Speedo's and large steel helmets?

Of course.

Add to that already heady mix a selection of the most cack-handedly edited sex scenes of all time and the close-up and personal sight of our heroes crotch, taped down as to appear ball-less whilst clad in tiny briefs and you know deep down in your soul that you're watching a thing of rare beauty.

Quite possibly the greatest action movie ever made and definitely worth selling your kids for.

Normal horror service will be resumed tomorrow.

Probably.

sexy (blood) beast.

31 days of horror day 6 and I'm onto the good stuff.

Seriously it's quality all the way from this point on.

Brides of Blood (AKA Brides of Blood Island, Grave Desires, Terror on Blood Island 1968).
Dir: Eddie Romero, Gerardo De Leon.
Cast: Beverly Hills, John Ashley, Kent Taylor, Mario Montenegro, Eva Darren and the fantastic Bruno Punzalan.

Lusting for women it terrified the land! Which is also an apt description of your uncle Peter.

Slick haired and snake hipped Peace Corp volunteer Jim Farrell (Filipino fright film fave Ashley) alongside the cut-price Clark Gable-a-like Dr. Paul Henderson (Psycho à Go-Go's Taylor) and his wife, the classy chassised bleached bimbette Carla (Beverly Hills...not her real name) are traveling to the spookily named "Blood Island" for a six-month stay.

But why would they do such a thing? I hear you ask.

Well, Henderson is heading there to study the effects of atomic testing on local flora and fauna (as you do) whilst Farrell's going to build stuff for the natives (and hopefully score with a few of the grass skirted sex kittens that live there).

And Carla?

Well she's accompanying her hubbie in order to show off her arse in in a variety of Capri Pants three sizes too small.

Just like your mum when she goes to Spain with her mates.

Your Auntie Jean, up the casino, Brighton, 1967....YESCH.

Upon arrival our heroic trio are surprised to find the usually friendly locals glumly carrying a couple of dead bodies towards the beach, which either means a burial at sea or they've gone to the wrong island and stumbled across Joe D'Amato filming another of his cannibal porn epics.

There's no time to check tho' as one of the body-bearers trips, dropping a cloth covered corpse onto the ground with a rubbery thud and our merry trio are shocked to see that the body has been literally torn to pieces.

Well I say shocked but Ashley - with his cinematic back catalogue -  is kinda used to this sort of thing by now and dear old Beverley is too busy concentrating on walking and talking at the same time to notice.

God bless Kent Taylor tho', who gives it his all, twitching and grimacing exactly like your dad at the point of climax.

Trust me I know. 

Luckily Frank Arcadio the English speaking, tea cosy hatted tribal leader (and buddy to Henderson) is on hand to helpfully explain that the two girls were involved in an "accident" and that there's really nowt to worry about.

Especially not radioactive monsters.

No sir.

Before anyone can ask any awkward questions Arcadio mentions that he's prepared a slap up meal of crisp sandwiches and fizzy pop back at his hut so our trio, hungry from all that traveling and corpse gazing excitedly follow him home.

Everything is going swimmingly (if a little stilted tho' that could just be the acting) until Arcadio - handing out fun size Twix's for dessert whispers in a hushed tone that things are a wee bit mental on the island at the moment and, for their own safety that they should really leave.

Right now if not sooner.

Dr. Henderson looks on concerned and nods thoughtfully but Jim is otherwise engaged as he gazes longingly at Arcadio's beautiful granddaughter Alma (the dusky beauty that is Eva Darren, currently doing Stirling work as Thelma in the hit TeeVee soap Magpakailanman) whilst sweating like Jimmy Savile opening a girl guides camp.

Eva: Not green.

Ignoring Arcadio's warning the group head off to bed with Henderson particularly excited about beginning his research the next morning much to his wife's chagrin, in response she decides to sit up all night smoking whilst seductively flashing her ankles at any tribesfolk who wander by.

Jim by this point is already in his tent, searching his backpack for tissues and a Pot Noodle.

As dawn breaks Henderson is already up and about searching for samples in the jungle whilst a bored looking Carla lies wistfully against a tree, her frankly terrifying breasts pointing skywards like silk covered weapons of mass distraction, her scarily pointed bra barely holding their awesome power in check.

The beauty of her surroundings seems to have a calming effect on Carla tho' as she decides that rather than attempting to seduce the locals she'll try to rekindle the Doctor's love for her and to this end starts poking around in the bush for something nice to give him as a present.

It says a lot about Carla that she decides that a massive mutated land crab would make a perfect romantic gift and excitedly hands it to her hubbie.

Rather than trying to shag it as she has everything else that moves.

Giving it a quick once over he decides that the creature is irrefutable evidence that radiation has affected the island.

Hmmmm....you think so?

With the (stock footage and filtered) sun setting, the Henderson's return to the village (with the crab in a shoe box) only to stumble across what appears to be the tribes own version of the National Lottery draw, except this one features purple smoke, drums and a couple of scantily clad laydees crying in a corner.

Which actually sounds pretty exciting.


Well it'd make me consider buying a ticket.

Inside Keir Starmer's mind.

With some poor old guy from the local unemployed group dragged up like Mystic Meg he totters about on a pair of homemade Cha-Cha heels for what seems like an eternity before angrily pointing none too happy native girls and gesturing to a couple of hunky, spear wielding warrior types to carry them off into the jungle.

Our dynamic duo (with Jim close behind -he can obviously smell distressed female from a mile away) give chase but before they can catch up with the procession they are accosted by the bald, cod-eyed Goro (Black Mama, White Mama's Punzalan), servant of the enigmatic Mr. Esteban Powers (Mario Montenegro), owner of the islands only brick house and winner of the Butlins Skegness Dezi Arnez look-a-like competition a record breaking 5 times between 1955 and 1961.

It appears that Goro has been skulking about in the trees since they arrived on the island in the hope that they'll accept Mr. Powers invite of dinner and offer to use of his estate for the duration of their stay.

Which sounds as good a reason as any for hiding behind a bush watching scantily clad babes being carried away screaming, so the party (totally forgetting about the sobbing girls as soon as free food is mentioned) accept heartily.

Dominic Littlewood goes undercover as a genie to report on dangerous garden centres and terrifying things. (One for the kids there).

Arriving at Powers' estate (after a slight fright involving a killer bush...yes really) the Henderson's and big Jim fail to notice (but not me, oh no sir) that not only is the entire house staff made up of dwarves, scurrying and leaping around the kitchens whilst Goro chases down then whips them but also that Powers has the face (and firm tight buttocks) of a 12 year old even those he alleges he's over 50.

To be fair tho' they're probably distracted by the fact that the promised slap up meal actually appears a plate of huge green bananas and jugs of weak piss.

Good to see they have their priorities right.

Making the most of a bad situation (and even worse script) our heroes tuck into dinner, enjoying Goro's dwarf baiting in between Dr. Henderson tediously giving everyone a lecture on the effects of atomic radiation whilst using the croissants to represent tumors, which is nice.

This may be important to the plot later tho', you never can tell.

Excited at the prospect of staying in a house with real beds and hot and cold running water (as opposed to weeping sores) Carla persuades her husband to let her stay over at Powers' House, he agrees that she can stay but explains that he must return to the village to fetch some 'special equipment'.

Jimbo too needs to stay in the village to 'assist' the new building work so the pair make their farewells and head off once more into the jungle.

Beverly Hills Cop (a load of flack for being pro-Trump).

Heading back to the village, they again cross paths with the sobbing girls, only this time they are both naked and tied to crosses in front of a giant paper mache statue of TeeVee funnyman Phil Cool.

Which if I'm honest is one of the most erotic things I've ever seen committed to celluloid.

Jim and the Doctor look on worriedly as they discuss whether to jump in and free the poor girls or just sit back and enjoy the show.

Luckily that decision is made for them when Arcadio, with the help of his silver tongue and a spear carrying posse turns up, diffusing the situation by explaining that they've just come across the local drama group rehearsing the village Christmas panto before taking the boys back to the village mightily impressed by the bound babes convincing acting.

You'll be surprised to know that Arcadio was in fact lying and that the girls are actually going to be sacrificed to 'The Evil One' an ancient spirit returned to wreak havoc on this idyllic paradise.

Jim and Henderson are barely tucked into bed (separately obviously) when strange Animalistic grunts, groans and farts suddenly begin to fill the air.

Laugh now!

Jim leaps from his sleeping bag and confronts Arcadio about the noise (and the smell) but our bonneted buddy remains tight lipped only saying that the whole thing was probably rats before heading off to his hut but Jim is undeterred, turning his charms on Alma.

Melting under Jim's salacious gaze she's about to spill the beans (and out of her top by the looks of it) but runs away sobbing as soon  as she hears the screams coming from the women in the trees.

Jim tries to follow her but is stopped by Arcadio brandishing his massive weapon, the shiny tip glistening in the moonlight.

Threatening to kill our slick-haired hero if he tries to interfere, Arcadio admits that he may have been a wee bit economical with the truth before breaking down in tears and exclaiming that the infamous 'Evil One' has returned.

Jim, finally realizing that being the only male cast member under 40 (just) he must actually be the films hero and donning his best Hawaiian shirt decides that it's his job to combat the terror threatening the village.

And how does he decide to do this?

By showing the villagers how to build an irrigation system for their fields and smiling seductively at Alma in the hope of getting information regarding the Evil One's plans from her.

And hopefully a wee cuddle too.

Luckily the latter part of the plan works and she tells him how the Evil One's violent urges can only be placated by the sacrifice of young virgin tottie.

But not as food for the beast oh no.

You see the hapless young (and firm) girls are given to him in order to quell his bizarre sexual urges.


Yup, the Evil One literally shags the sacrifices.....

TO DEATH.

"Put it in me!"

Meanwhile after returning to Chez Powers, Henderson is almost certain that Blood Island has been contaminated by atomic radiation from the tests.

No idea what swung it for him....was it the mutant crabs, man eating banana trees, giant killer moths or the horny man beast prowling around the forest?

We can but imagine.

There's a wee bit of good news tho' because it turns out that the resulting mutations are - kinda - reversible and only manifest themselves at night.

There's just one thing bothering Henderson tho' - well two if you count how his missis manages to squeeze into those blue hot-pants at this point of the movie - and that's the fact that the villagers themselves aren't affected by the radiation.

Powers, never one to let tension build,  informs him that they were all brought in as part of the US government’s resettlement program for peoples displaced by the atomic bomb tests.

And he should know, because he was on the island all the time nursing his radioactive wife.

Not to worry tho' the only side effects Powers has ever shown is bouts of migraine and a habit of waking up in his garden covered in blood, egg and semen.

Fuck me....it's Fred Titmus!

Hmmmm, I wonder....Could the nice Mr. Powers really be a sex starved atomic shag-beast?

Will Carla realize before she chases him into the forest (at night) wearing only a seductive Baby Doll nightie?

And will Alma win the island lottery?

Farrell and Henderson have only hours to put the pieces of the puzzle together before more innocent women (and Carla) become BRIDES OF BLOOD.

This second film in the late great Eddie Romero's cult 'Blood' series - co-directed with his long-time partner Gerardo De Leon -  invites viewers on a return journey to the notorious Blood Island made (in)famous in The Mad Doctor of Blood Island for an exciting tale of terror that features equal amounts of brutish beasts and bare breasts - the natives must strip the girls naked to be sacrificed as no doubt the beast can manage to tear them limb from limb but not remove their bra's - much to the delight of the delinquent drive-in crowds it was so obviously aimed at.

'Brides' is a no nonsense shoestring 'B' flick that despite it's low budget, still manages to deliver it's quota of scares and sexiness (take a bow John Ashley) that personifies perfectly this period of Filipino film-making mayhem.

Your wee sister will be OK then.

True, many of the 'effects' sequences are anything other than special (the obviously cardboard 'giant' mutant moth and the killer trees clearly visible strings) but everyone involved never takes the plot as anything less than deadly serious, which makes for a genuinely (at times) creepy film that never fails to entertain.



Plus if you do manage to get bored - tho' how is beyond me - you can always marvel in awe at the amount of highly coiffured hairstyles on show.

What your girlfriend really gets up to when she says she's working late.

The acting is uniformly adequate (with special mention to Kent Taylor as the so stoic he's almost solid granite Dr. Henderson) with the glowing exception of Ms. Beverly Hills.

No doubt cast for reasons other than her thespian skills, she lights up the screen like a large, tacky plastic glitterball from the pound shop every time she appears - her pneumatic breasts and gravity defying arse a true feat of engineering of which craftsmen everywhere should be forced to study.

My only disappointment is that after shagging and flirting her way thru' most of the male cast she never bothered to get in on with Mr. Powers' dwarf home help.

Oh well.

The shy, wallflower Beverly Hills in a rare non-posed shot.

But what of the films big selling feature?

The nightmarish Evil One?

In a classic case of enthusiasm over budget the beast is a joy to behold, looking as it does like a wart ridden swollen left testicle with chubby arms and legs, pointy cardboard teeth and torches for eyes it exudes menace and animal sexuality in equal doses.

Well it does if you find the thought of a drink sodden tramped up Mr. Blobby with scabs makes you damp with joy.

Just me then?

But fair play to the film makers who, rather than hide this stunning creation in the shadows come straight out and have it take centre stage.

"Not my wanking hand!"

Maybe not the best Filipino shocker ever made but definitely not the worst by a long stretch (that still has to be Super Beast), Brides of Blood is the perfect Friday night thriller.

Especially if like me you have no pals.

stryke it lucky.

Our youngest was out shopping with Mum t'other day and came back with this haul...

He's obviously showing good taste.

Anyway, this served as an excuse to show him some other classics of the zombie genre.

 

And this one obviously.

 

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.

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 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 tramps from West Bromwich.

"Put it in me!"

 

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.

Here come the Belgians!

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, underpaid extras and homeless folk 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 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 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.

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 ejaculate (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.

"Happy birthday Kenneth!"

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.

*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.