meet is murder.

Saw and reviewed this not long after its original release 5 years back and am pretty shocked that no-one else seems to have ever seen it because it's quite brilliant.

No idea what it's doing here then.

Meet Me There (2014).
Dir: Lex Lybrand.
Cast: Lisa Friedrich, Micheal Foulk, Jill Thompson and Dustin Runnels.

When Ada's (Friedrich, looking for all the world like a perfect splicing between Gaylen Ross and Sarah Polley which, trust me, is a good thing) deep seated sexual anxieties begin to impact on her relationship with her loving boyfriend, Calvin (Foulk, sans Hobbes), the cutesy couple decide to attend counseling sessions where it becomes worryingly clear that Ada has almost totally forgotten anything related to her childhood.

Concerned that she may have suffered some kind of filthy fiddling as a child her counselor suggests that the best way of overcoming the intimacy- based issues is trying to re-connect with her past.


Which is much better than the "kill the whores to save yourself" advice that my counselor gave me.

And much less messy.

Being a thoroughly nice bloke, Calvin offers to take Ada on a cross state road trip to her home town of Sheol (think the West Midlands with a shallower gene pool and cheaper trousers) in the hope that it may trigger some memory that will help Ada overcome her fears and enable Calvin to finally come over her.

Sorry that was uncalled for.

Anyway after a creepy run in with a boss-eyed petrol station attendant things go from bad to Lynch upon arrival in the town, firstly Calvin is threatened with a shooting for attempting to buy bottled water and when they finally get to the location of Ada's childhood home all that they find is a tree.

True enough, it's a very nice tree but not the place you can imagine anyone raising a family.

Unless they were Ewoks obviously.

"You did WHAT in your cup?"

Making the best of a bad situation they decide to visit Ada's slightly sinister Aunt Lindsay (a fantastic turn from comics scribe Thompson) in the hope of spending the night - reckoning it'd be safer than spending it in the car - but fail to reckon with her overwhelming love of God and her overblown loathing of tattoos.

This obviously leads to an oh so slightly uncomfortable evening made worse after bedtime when the couple are kept awake by Lindsay and her hubbie shouting abuse at each other.

A wee bit like when I go home to visit.*

Waking bright and early the next morn the couple decide to take advantage of the sunshine and take a leisurely walk around the town, partly to see if they can actually find Ada's old home but mainly to see if there are any normal people around.

Or at least ones that aren't related to each other.

Or have the right number of toes.

Yup, it's definitely like my home town.

It's not too long (it's a short movie) before they come across (not in that way but judging by Calvin's frustrated demeanour it wont be long before he can help himself) the local church and it's even more local Preacher, Edward Woodward (A genuinely unsettling performance from ex-wrestler Runnels) who, after inviting them inside for a chat and a chocolate Hob Nob calmly suggests that they should both kill themselves.

Which is a wee bit unexpected.

Mulder and Scully....the hairy years.

Between this, the trigger-happy locals and Aunt Lindsay's warts The pair decide that it'd probably be for the best if they just grab their stuff and head home now (which seeing as they're from Texas gives you some idea of how fucked up the place is) unbeknown to them tho' Ada's mad uncle has torched their car leaving them no choice but to attempt to fight their way back  home.

It seems that the locals take the story that people only visit Sheol when they're ready to die very seriously indeed.

Similar in style to Jay Dahl's fantastic There Are Monsters, director Lex Lybrand alongside writers Brandon Stroud and Destiny D Talley - on who’s personal experiences the film is based, spookily and allegedly) is that rare beast that takes a much used horror cliché - this time the stranger-baiting small town - yet delivers something unique and unexpected despite - or because of - this oft-used formula.

In a rare and somewhat bold move, the majority of the films running time is taken up with exploring the characters of Ada and Calvin and their relationship with each other  before suddenly dropping us - and them - into the terrifyingly real threat that the townsfolk pose.
And what of our lovelorn leads?

Well Lybrand seems less concerned with the acting skills of Friedrich and Foulk and more about keeping their reactions real and it's credit to the pair that the approach works so well.

The entire film hinges on the believability of their relationship and both pull this off with aplomb.

I've not been this worried about a characters fate since Andrew Sensenig's sensitive performance as a grieving dad in the sublime We Are Still Here and thinking about it you can see this movie as a kinda punky, art school little brother to that.

Intense, unsettling and strangely compelling, Meet Me There is everything you could want from a low budget movie and shows that you don't need to splash out the cash to dole out the scares.

A little gem.

Shit, I better find something awful to watch soon before folk start to think I've gone soft in my old age.....










































*Or at least it used to be seeing as last time I went down to visit it turned out that my folks had sold the house and not told me....had to spend 3 days sleeping in the new owners shed.

caribbean queen.

The best thing about the whole 31 days of horror thing is to be able to go back and re-review (slightly) stuff that's been sitting about unloved here for years.

A wee bit like your mum.

Plus let's be honest it wouldn't be the same without a Sirpa Lane movie.

Enjoy.

Papaya Of The Caribbean (AKA Papaya: Love Goddess of the Cannibals, Die of Pleasure, Fruta sexual del Caribe, 1978).
Director: Lord Joe of D'Amato.
Starring: Sirpa Lane, Melissa Chimenti, Maurice Poli and some other people.

Papaya: My name is Papaya.
Sara: Papaya? What a funny name!
Papaya: And what's your name?
Sara: Me? Sara!
Papaya: Oh! What a funny name!

Our tale opens on the sun kissed beach in a scenic resort island somewhere hot, exotic and most importantly dirt cheap to film, where the dusky and mysterious beauty known only as Papaya (Chimenti from Revelations of a Psychiatrist on the World of Sexual Perversion - obviously Laura Gemser was busy, or in rehab) is hard at work rubbing out of date fruit over a sweaty mans chest whilst giving him the 'oral pleasure'.

And if you're not sure what I mean, just ask your sister.

This may seem a great way to spend your vacation you may be thinking to yourself and I'd have to agree, until when, at the moment of Climax, pervy Papaya bites off his penis, gobbling away like a really hungry hippo as he writhes about screaming like your nan when she got he breast caught in the blender.

"It's CCCHHHHRRRRIIISSSTTTMMMAAASSSS!"

But that's not all that's amiss in paradise.

Plans are afoot to build a brand spanking (as opposed to arse spanking  tho' with Joe D'Amato's involvement I wouldn't be so sure) new atomic power plant on the island, whether the natives agree or not.

It's no wonder tho' that with all this cock biting going on that work on the project is behind schedule meaning that the ruggedly sexy (and scarily hairy) company engineer Vincent (Rabid Dogs' Poli channeling Crossroads very own David Hunter himself the late great Ronald Allen) is sent to investigate.

Arriving on the island our pensionable aged professional soon comes across (in more ways than one) ace investigative journalist and 'old friend' Sara (Lane, harsh faced star of Walerian Borowczyk's furry suited shagfest La Bette and the scifi classic The Beast In Space) and is soon indulging in some atomic reactions of his own.

By that I mean he has sex with her.

Twice.

Honestly the sheer animalistic intensity of the intercourse being indulged in here would be enough to supply the entire island with energy without the power station and the only thing that cools down their ardour is the discovery of a mutilated corpse of one of the plant workers in their hotel room.

And to be honest I'm surprised they don't just roll on top of him and use his putrefying juices as lube.

It's not just the bath water that's dirty. Or smelling of shit.

Anyway, after a wee bit more shagging followed by a bit of flirty bantz the pair discover that yet another worker has been found dead - and cockless - giving Vincent the idea that these deaths may be related.

Hmmm...you think so?

Deciding to take Sara on a trip to the power plant (as opposed to say, up the arse) to hunt for clues the pair rent a jeep  - as opposed to a whore - and begin their journey only to be accosted on the way by the aforementioned Papaya, who is hitch-hiking into town to buy lemons.

Much chat and even more flirty banter ensues as Papaya persuades the pair that rather than investigate the murders their time would be better spent indulging in some three-way sex action instead.

Vincent, obviously eager to get as many STD's as possible over one weekend is more than happy to oblige.

Easy tiger.

What your mum and auntie get up to when they say they're at the bingo.

Fear not fright fans because it's not all saucy threesomes, groovy girl on girl action, onanism and water sports because Papaya - realizing that any movie of this type worth its ilk needs a wee bit of animal harm - also invites the couple to an island 'celebration' involving the slaughtering of a couple of defenceless pigs (real footage, cheers Joe), followed by a couple of hallucinogenic cocktails and, of course copious amounts of naked dancing to a stunningly sexy Stelvio Cipriani disco beat.

And let's be honest, would you have it any other way?

"Put it in me!"

But as is always the way with these things, the party can't last forever and the very next morning Vincent wakes to not only find a cluster of red lumps on his scrotum but that Sara has been kidnapped by Papaya's crazed followers.

Will our humping hero suffer the same fate as the other unfortunate plant workers and what does Papaya have in store for the man-chinned, 70's breasted Sara?

More importantly tho' will it involve any more soft focus, slow motion lady love culminating in saucy Sirpa biting her lip in her trademark erotic fashion?

Look I'm easily pleased obviously.

From the mightily mucky mind of the late great Joe D'Amato (AKA Aristide Massaccesi), Papaya Of The Caribbean is another of the great mans forays into - as we in the know call it - the 'sexy horror', sitting (or standing) proudly alongside the frankly wonderful Emanuelle And The Last Cannibals, Orgasmo Nero, Erotic Nights of The Living Dead and the subtly titled Porno Holocaust.

The latter more famous for not actually featuring a 'Porno Holocaust' in any shape of form preferring as it does to concentrate solely on actor Mark Shannon's weirdly warty balls.

Obviously that wouldn't have made half as good a title tho.

Unfortunately Papaya (the movie that is not the fruit which is quite tasty) lacks the humour (both intentional and otherwise) of Erotic Nights and is just nowhere near as bizarre as the genuinely wacky Last Cannibals.

It also lacks enough gore or shocks to be a bona fide horror movie and, if I'm honest isn't really that sexy, due in part to the usually luscious Lane deciding to spend the entire movie staring into the middle distance in the vaguely frowny, nonplussed manner of someone trying to ignore a bad smell which for a so called 'erotic' movie is a wee bit of a non starter

Surely Maurice Poli's recurring yeast infection wasn't that bad?

In its favour there are - tho' usually by accident rather than design when it comes to a Big Joe production -  actually a few genuinely spooky scenes on show - mostly those involving Vincent and Sarah exploring a deserted ghost town - tho' any tension they may have helped to build up is soon dispelled by the sheer amount of floppy cocks that appear at frighteningly regular intervals throughout the film.

I feel I now know Maurice Poli's better than my own.

Or your dads.

smash it up.

It's that time of the year again where I put together - with very little effort - as series of ever more banal reviews under the 31 Days of Horror label in a countdown to Halloween which has less to do with championing the horror genre and more to do with me trying to entice more (any?) readers to this pitiful excuse for a blog.

Raiders of the Damned (2007)
Dir: Milko Davis.
Cast: Richard Grieco, Gary Sirchia, Laura Zoe Quist, Elijah Murphy, Thomas Martwick, Laura Clemens, Amanda Scheutzow and J.C. Austin.

"Eye son".

It's the end of the world as we know it (and I feel Ralph Fiennes) and a shedload of nasty nuclear weapons have put paid to most of humanity, save for ex Teen Agent Richard (my illustrious career) Grieco, a handful of straight to video ne'er-do-wells and bizarrely an actress who actually reads this blog*.

No, seriously.

But if that wasn't enough a particularly virulent man-made virus called Agent 9-X has turned a huge number of the survivors into pasty faced zombies.

Isn't that always the way?

Luckily for us 'norms' the zombie hordes are all stuck behind a huge wall in a designated quarantine zone where they can't get up to any mischief.

Or can they?

Grieco: For the ladies.

Well surprisingly everyone - and everything - seems to be coasting along OK in this post weary, apocalyptic world until one day the brainy boffin Dr. Wells (We Do Monsters: Nemesis Von Smith star Murphy) - whilst on a top secret mission to drop bags of soot on the undead - is shot down behind enemy lines by a chino wearing, skull-faced zombie wielding a rocket powered crossbow.

No, seriously.

This is particularly bad news for the rag tag group of survivor at the nearby military base as they desperately need to have a wee chat with Dr. Wells seeing as he's the only scientist with any chance of discovering a cure for this zombie plague.

Plus they'd baked a cake especially for his visit.

But ain't that always the way in these movies?

Anyway back at the proper - zombie based - plot and things have gone from bad to really bad for the good doctor and his lovely assistant Stephanie (Scheutzow...bless you) for no sooner have they stumbled drunkenly from the helicopters wreckage - or at the very least a pretty good cardboard approximation of one - than the pair find themselves face to putrefying face with the evil zombie madman behind the attack, enter (roughly and from behind) Colonel Kevin Crow (Martwick, latterly co-director of the classics Jurassic Thunder, The Jurassic Dead and the terrifying Tsunambee) who drags them back to his secret fortress for tea, biscuits and an explanation of his evil plans.

You see, it seems that the Colonel hasn't let a little thing like death put paid to his military career and he's spent the last several years training the local undead in the art of warfare and beret wearing and now plans to breach the walls of the survivors complex in order to wipe them all out.

But not before he tries his undead seduction techniques on poor old Stephanie tho'.

Cue 10 minutes of rubbery face zombie sex style shenanigans.

You're welcome.

Do you think he ate her whole?

Meanwhile back at human central, mad as a lorry scientist Lewis (the poor man's Lou Diamond Phillips, Grieco) reckons that the infamously wayward rebel marine captain and former comrade of Crow, Dewey Crenshaw (Sirchia, looking for all the world like a camper Barry Bostwick if that's at all possible) is the only man who can rescue Wells and sexy Steph.

The only problem is that he's in prison for 'war crimes' and will only take on the mission if he can choose his own team.

No surprise then that everyone agrees to his terms, so without so much as a change of pants, Crenshaw gathers together a group of his pals (including the oh so cutesome Quist and some other, less attractive folk) to head over the wall, rescue the scientist and his by now, zombie cock obsessed assistant and, just because it'll be convenient whilst they're there, shoot Crow in the face before he shags anyone else.

The incredibly sexy and talented Quist is by
far the best thing in this movie.

Little do they know tho' that Crow is almost ready to march on the remnants of humanity and finish the war once and for all.

And there's the little matter of a spare dimensional portal knocking about (that by the way is the mcguffin he's planning to steal and use to breach the survivors defenses with because obviously a ladder or tunnel would be too easy)  that needs dealing with too.

Oh, and as an aside I should mention that after his stinky shag earlier, Crow is permanently stiff in more ways than one** and is super horny for more hot (by hot I mean breathing) ladies to impregnate with his evil zombie sperm.

No doubt he'll want revenge on Crenshaw too.

Or have sex with him.

So as the film lurches toward its climax he's either gonna be dead busy, or the movie is gonna get really confusing causing the viewer to lose interest and pop Army of Darkness on instead.

"Did you get me a Drifter?"

Mighty Milko Davis, the man responsible the terrifying special effects in the Seduction Cinema classic Dracula's Dirty Daughter, as well as the voice of The Carnivore in that hilarious SciFi comedy Star Warp'd makes his directorial debut with this haphazard riff on Mad Max and Escape from New York via big George Romero's entire zombie back catalogue with a plot so surprisingly packed with ideas and twists that it's like watching about a dozen movies rolled into one.

Pity none of them are that good tho'.

"This is my hand, no this is your hand!"

Saying that, the cast do their best to rise above the mish-mash of concepts on show, especially the fantastic Quist (meow) and the b-movie god that is Grieco, proving once and for all that his alimony bill must be huge.

And it's great to finally see a tasteful zombie sex scene.

It's no Nightmare City, but then again what is? Tho' it is about a thousand times more entertaining than The Walking Dead.

And if that isn't damning with faint praise I don't know what is.

Tomorrow - something better.

I promise.


















































*True story bro, as our American cousins say.

**As in he has an erect penis that he wants to put in a ladies vagina.

mandate.

Still feeling a wee bit under the weather so have confined myself to the sofa with the TV remote channel surfing in the hope that some quality movies will help cure my malaise.

The Super Inframan (中國超人. 1975).
Dir: Hua Shan.
Cast: Danny Lee, Wang Hsieh, Terry Lau, Yuan Man-tzu, Bruce Le, Kong Yeung,
Dana Shum, Lin Wen-wei, Lu Sheng and Fanny Leung.

Rayma, now you are filled with power and energy! For you, nothing will be an impossibility! Your senses are intensified, so you can even see and hear through walls!

It's the futuristic - for 1975 - year 2015 (which is now the past, spooky) and the  primary 2 class from the Mary Bell junior school are heading home after a hard days clipping 'up west' but as the excitedly look forward to snacks and pop their joyful bus-based songs are rudely interrupted when what looks like a huge, green plucked turkey drops from the sky onto the road in front of them shattering the concrete and causing the bus to screech to a halt and wee Jimmy to spill his Ribena.

As the fairly sexy supply teacher herds the kids to safety the crack-creating chicken attacks the bus sending it and its unfortunate driver off the edge of a cliff.

But that's not the only thing causing havoc on this wet Wednesday afternoon as all across Hong Kong - and maybe even the world - natural disasters are occurring: everything from earthquakes to previously dormant volcano exploding via your mum burning her souffle, the whole planet is in chaos.

Lucky for us, the bewigged and (pube) bearded boffin and part-time Dave Lee Travis alike Professor Brian Liu Ying De (A Better Tomorrow's Wang) and his world renowned - and silver jumpsuit clad - Super Science Headquarters team is on the case.
 

"Are you looking at my bra?"

 Scanning the local area for any clues as to what's happening the team are surprised when the nearby Devil's Mountain explodes revealing a huge carved dragon skull cum secret base entrance from which steps the sinisterly sexy sorceress resplendent in a huge silver dragon hat and matching bikini top, thigh boots and carrying a whip in her dragon headed right hand.

I don't know why but I think she may like dragons.

Demon Princess Elizebub (or Princess Dragon Mom as the dubbed version amusingly calls her and played to thigh slapping perfection by Terry Liu, best known for her performance as the tight uniformed and knee-high booted lesbian warden Mako in Bamboo House of Dolls) for this is she, shoutily informs the team that from this day forth she is the Earth’s new master and we must either surrender and live as her playthings or be destroyed.

Well I know which I'd choose.

Even thinking about it would probably kill you.

Anyway to prove her point she unleashes her leather-clad skeleton army and assorted mutant types including a huge Plasticine monstrosity with drills for hands,, a big red pompom with horns that can fire laser beams from its arse, a tentacled plant monster, the crab suit left over from Space Amoeba and a pair of metal men with spring loaded limbs to wreak havoc and cause general mayhem around the local area, pissing in phone boxes, tying the swings around the crossbar so no-one can use them and knocking on doors before running off - you get the idea.

Helping her to organise the attack - as well as keeping everyone fed and watered -  is her second-in-command, the sultry Ms Witch-Eye (Shum from Golgo 13: Assignment Kowloon), a kinda sexy space secretary cum junior despot in a cycling helmet and eyeballs in the palm of her hands that fire hypnotizing laser bolts when needed.

Which is nice.

"Eye hen!"

Is there anyone who can defeat these monsters?

Luckily in his spare time the Professor has been beavering away on a top secret project - code-named: BDX it has the ability to transform a normal human into a bionic, red latexed super-hero.

This can be achieved, he explains, by wiring the subjects arms and legs with powerful transistors and computerized parts, injecting them with a super serum and to top it off inserting a tiny nuclear reactor in their heads.

Unfortunately tho' the procedure is very painful.

Oh and may result in death.

Enter - roughly and from behind after jumping them in a dark alley - Jeff Rayma (Lee from the classic City On Fire) who eagerly volunteers to strip down to his pants and get tied to a table by a much older man in order to become the much more than human, if slightly less manly looking Infra-Man, defender of the Earth and scourge of all girl private schools everywhere.

"Put it in me!"

Cue 90 odd minutes of enough kicks and punches to make you want to sell your soul for a PaRappa the Rapper live action movie as Infra-Man and his pals battle everything from giant plant monsters whose massive foam vines attempt to smash the science base to brainwashed traitors in their midst via a bizarre subplot involving the Professor youngest daughters wish to become Infra-Woman when she's older.

And all performed by a cast of which the majority are wearing way too tight Bacofoil jumpsuits.

Here come the Belgians!

But it's not all fist fights tho' as after a couple of defeats at Infra-Man's hands, a fairly angry Elizebub sends the aforementioned brainwashed minion to steal the secrets of Infra-Man's power so that she too can build an invincible warrior prompting the Professor to upgrade our hero (nothing too fancy mind, just adding Thunderball Fists that can be launched from his wrists, alongside a deadly solar attack device that kills instantly, a 'lethal flame kick' embedded in his Cuban heels and lastly a set of mini-rockets place just above his tummy in the off-chance that anyone uses a freeze ray on him at any point - like that'll happen) in preparation for the final battle.

But whilst all this science shit is going down Elizebub has kidnapped the Professor's beautiful daughter Liu Mei-mei (the button-nosed Yuan Man-tzu from The Clones of Bruce Lee) and is threatening to kill her (to death) is the Professor doesn't surrender himself and his secrets.

Laugh now.

 As so begins a race against time (and good taste) to save not only the Professor and his daughter but humanity itself from the slender clutches of the Demon Princess Elizebub.

Will the traitor be uncovered?

Will Infra-Man lose his power when the sun is blocked out even tho' he's allegedly got a nuclear reactor embedded in his skull?

Will Demon Princess Elizebub turn back into a chicken for the stunning final battle?

Will there be a sequel? *

There's only one way to find out cos I'm not telling.

Obviously 'inspired' (you think?) by Tsuburaya Productions utterly fantastic Ultra series - even going so far as re-using Toru Fuyuki's score from Ultra Seven - as well as the daikaiju and kyodai hīro genres - still - so popular in Japan, this Shaw Brothers epic has the distinction of being not only the very first Superhero movie made in Hong Kong but the first film promoted there using a hot air balloon.

Which I'm sure you'll agree is a useful fact to know.

Brexit in a nutshell.

Confidently directed by HK cinema stalwart Hua Shan (who would later go on to give us such classic Fayre as Kung Fu Zombie, Jade Claw, Ghost Killer and Dreams of Eroticism) from a script by the prolific science fiction author and script writer Ni Kuang (responsible for, among other things, writing One-Armed Swordsman, The Assassin and Crippled Avengers as well as the Bruce Lee starrer Fist of Fury) and produced by the legendary Runme Shaw, Infra-Man works best because it unashamedly embraces it's Japanese inspirations rather than just blatantly ripping them off, even going as far as hiring Ekisu Productions - famed for their work on many a Toei superhero series - to supply the sets and monster costumes as well as designing and building Infra-Man himself which all adds a certain legitimacy to the proceedings that something like Juan Piquer Simón's 1980 superhero misfire Supersonic Man lacks plus the acting is top notch and played with eye-rolling conviction by everybody onscreen.

As a bizarre side-note, Bruce Le - who plays the brainwashed Lu Hsiao-Lung - has a cameo in Juan Piquer Simón's classic Pieces as a Kung Fu teacher with a dodgy tummy.

Tho' this coincidence may not be related to his later arrest for tax evasion.

"Put it in me!"

Talking of actors, kudos to not only the frankly fantastic Terry Liu but also to Wang Hsieh who manages to give his portrayal of Professor Liu Ying De a quiet dignity and earnest believability whilst all the time clad in a silver labcoat two sizes too small and wearing a pound shop Elvis wig and comedy beard. 

And as the eponymous hero himself Danny Lee is all bowl-haired, boys own bravado, holding his own against an evermore outlandish array of monsters or when being forced to lie naked - save for a big nappy - on a pool table whilst being injected with food colouring.

It's a job I suppose.

The Howard's Way remake looks a bit shit.

Top quality super-heroics lovingly wrapped in a big bow of brightly coloured goodness, I mean what's not to love?

Recommended.

Twice.






































*Unfortunately not.

get me to the greek.

Imagine this - Laura Gemser in a rude film NOT 'directed' by Joe D'Amato but still playing the role she became famous (sort of) for.

So how does Ilias Mylonakos' vision compare to that of the god-like D'Amato?

You'll have to read on to find out cos I'm not spilling the beans (or owt else) just yet, so let's begin with a quick synopsis.

Surprisingly there is a plot and this time it focuses on revenge and murder as well as 70's breasts and hairy arses so it's all good.



Emanuelle’s Daughter Queen of Sados (AKA Black Emmanouella, Emanuelle the Seductress, Emanuelle's Daughter, Emanuelle: Queen Bitch, Emanuelle: Queen of Sados, 1979).
Dir: Ilias Mylonakos (Yup,THE Ilias Mylonakos you lucky people!)
Cast: Laura Gemser, Pantelis Agelopou, Haris Tryfonas, Gabriele Tinti, Vagelis Vartan, Nadia Neri, Livia Russo and Gordon Mitchell.

...and suffering from leg
cramp by the look of it.

Gladys Emanuelle (dusky beauty and your dads first Nat West, the goddess  that is Ms Gemser) hires a hit-man to kill her abusive (and incredibly kinky) husband, the devil bearded and mightily man-titted Victor who unbeknown to his business partners, Robert and Ilona, has subjected our heroine to years of abuse, weird sexual rituals and rough bum love.

Even on Sundays.

Trying everything from putting bromide in his tea to ringing Judge Rinder, Emanuelle has no other option than to hire the mysterious hitman Mario (Tryfonas AKA Harris Stevens AKA my real dad sporting the biggest - and brightest - pair of polyester flares ever committed to celluloid) to take him out for the agreed price of £37.80 and a quick shag.

Bargain.

"Suckle mah man tits!"

Mario comes thru' and kills the dirty blighter in a plane crash meaning that our olive skinned superbabe inherits not only his successful orange growing empire and high waist trouser collection but also gains custody of his virginal teenage daughter Livia (dirty bird Russo).

Emanuelle finally free from all this death, dodgy deals and sordid sex sees her new found freedom as a great opportunity to not only have some mother/stepdaughter bonding time but also a good excuse to get away from all suspicious coppers skulking about her house, so to this end decides to book the pair on a package holiday to Greece.

What?

Has she not seen Island of Death?

Your mum licking piss off John Nettles yesterday.

Unfortunately - for them that is, for the entertainment of the viewer this man is a godsend-  sleazy sex god Mario is in hot pursuit.

It would appear that the hunky hitman has begun to feel that his big wad (of cash) wasn't in fact big enough.

He wants more.

Much more.

And not just money.

You see, he's taken a shine to young Livia's for one thing.

The filthy rotter.

"Ooh Vic...I've fallen".

Turning up at the depressingly off season holiday camp with some tacky gifts in tow (an arse plug for mum and a bag of sweets for the wean) Mario soon ingratiates himself with the normally shy Livia, much to her stepmum's disgust.

And as Gemser enthusiasts know, if she's disgusted then it must be really bad.

Turns out tho' that the swarthy, handbagged faced lothario is actually enjoying the awkwardness of the whole situation, lifting Livia onto his lap at every opportunity and rubbing coconut oil into her smooth, milky virgin flesh with his big sweaty sausage fingers at a moments notice before finally inviting her swimming at a local secluded beach.

Emanuelle is raging which means that she storms out of the chalet looking for someone to stick it in her.

Obviously.

"Wahey Janet! I'm spunking buckets!" cried Peter Duncan as he announced the Blue Peter appeal total.

Luckily for all involved, whilst at the beach Livia ends up getting chatting with a geeky bowl haired local guy named Aubrey (Vartan), who although blessed with having a face like a wart riddled testicle is at least her own age* which is nice.

Staying out way past her bedtime in order to catch Aubrey's fantastic display of table top disco-dancing (to the Village People's “YMCA” - unfortunately overdubbed with mind numbing bouzouki music on the DVD release) in the nite spot from Bloody Moon, Livia's romantic night comes to an end with her bashful beau walking her home along the sands before stealing a goodnight kiss.

But unbeknown to the young lovers Mario is watching from behind a bush, angrily masturbating as he stares silently at her - admittedly - peachy arse as it jiggles in the moonlight.

But if that wasn't enough, lurking behind a slightly bigger bush further up the beach are Robert and Ilona, trying to uncover the truth behind Victor's death while also planning to get Livia to side with them.

All this because it appears that she's the true heir to her late father's fortune.

And you thought it was all about the shagging.

Anyway, back to the, ahem, plot.

Whilst all this sinister subterfuge is going on, Emanuelle decides the best course of action is to meet up with Robert to clear the air before indulging in a wee bit of bollock tickling (watch him sweat! Touch his warts!) before arguing about orange growing with a stubborn factory foreman (see him growl!) and finally going shopping for pants.

Edible ones of course.

If you sit close enough to the
screen you can smell the yeast.

Feeling a wee bit left out at this point, Mario (in between staring at Livia whilst licking his lips and wearing bri-nylon swimming trucks) has been spending his time shagging every woman with a pulse on the island.

This includes a naked-cooking fetishist he met on the flight out and Emanuelle's wonky faced, cod eyed and bulldog faced 'assistant' Fiona.

Obviously having some taste and a slight grasp of foreplay techniques, he began this sordid little liaison by first forcing her head down a toilet (no doubt in an attempt to straighten it up or at the very least wipe off some of the industrial make-up she was caked in) before cheekily forcing it up her (massive doughnut like) shitter.

And they say chivalry's dead.

Feeling on a roll (and after first wiping his shit encrusted cock on the squinty woman's curtains) Mario heads down to the beach and after a half-hearted attempt to generate some tension with a chase, he finally catches up with Livia and tosses her into a muddy puddle before stripping her naked and violently breaking down the gates to her lady garden and putting it in her.

The swine.

"Nah....still squint".

Will Emanuelle get her revenge on Mario?

Will Livia survive the dirty puddle or ever walk again?

Will our heroines new technique for battery farming oranges prove a success?

Frankly, who cares.

Not me that's for sure.

Font.

With Queen of Sados, director Mylonakos manages the impossible by making a low budget Laura Gemser skin-flick that scarily induces bouts of boredom and apathetic yawns from it's audience as opposed to the normal reaction of involuntarily releasing torrents of cum and tears.

Clumsily acted, plotted and directed it's about as erotic as a swingers party in an old peoples home and twice as leathery, featuring a cast of has beens and never wills including art house lunk Gordon (Fellini's Satyricon) Mitchell and the never seen again (outside Childline ads) Livia Russo.

I mean honestly, you know it's bad when Gemser's real life beau Gabriele (Bava's Lisa And The Devil) Tinti even looks bored when shagging his missis on film.

At least  Haris Tryfonas (and his cock) seem to be enjoying themselves tho'.

But unfortunately unlike Tryfonas and his overworked penis the story is reed thin and the characters seldom rise (snigger) above the lightweight plot, many of them coming and going throughout the movie with no other motivation than to stick something in somebody or get something put in them.

Livia Russo: I guess it's OK now seeing as she's probably old enough to be your mum. Or dead.

Lacklustre, insipid and uninspired, the only things in it's favour is the movies historic importance as one of the first films made to cash in on the success of Bitto Albertini's Black Emanuelle series (a series that grew from strength to strength under the milky eyes of Joe D'Amato and Bruno Mattei, taking in cannibals and horses along the way) and the fact that it's marginally more watchable than Mylonakos' other foray in the series, the frankly mad as pants Divine Emanuelle (AKA Love Camp) with it's free love cult and floating overdubbed Gemser.

Oh yes, and it does give us a chance to admire Haris Tryfonas fantastic collection of 70's fashions, from garishly vomit inducing leisure wear to tiny penis bothering Speedo's.

Still doesn't stop it from being half cocked and rubbish tho'.

A bit like your dad.







































* Which according to various sources was about 14 at the time of shooting which doesn't make the beach front sex scene a wee bit uncomfortable to watch at all, no sir.

hairy nips and side sheds.

Just been chatting online about classic werewolf movies.

Obviously An American Werewolf In London, The Howling and The Beast Must Die! came up meaning that all this talk about hairy scares made me want to go back and revisit one of my personal faves.

So ladies and gentlemen let me present probably THE best werewolf movie ever made featuring not only the wonderful Dagmar Lassander but a star turn from that blonde woman who you might remember from bit parts in Truck Turner and Blood Orgy of The She Devils.



La Lupa Mannara (AKA Daughter of a Werewolf, Naked Werewolf Woman, She-Wolf , Werewolf Woman, 1976).
Dir: Rino Di Silvestro.
Cast: Annik Borel, Howard Ross, Dagmar Lassander, Tino Carraro and lots of other folk that I can't be arsed listing, except for the amusingly monikered Felicita Fanny for obvious reasons.

The place: a cow-pat covered field somewhere in Europe.

The time: Ye olden days - probably the early 70s by the state of the bush on show.

And I don't just mean the overgrow fauna circling the flaming pentagram that's been hastily drawn on the damp, muddy grass.

Obviously if you're a regular reader of this fine blog you'll know I'm making a childish reference to lady gardens.

In particular the one belonging to the top-lining (and topless) Annik Borel, who's currently dancing about in the all together and jiggling her lady parts like her life (or at very least her next mortgage payment) is counting on it.

But she is not alone.

Watching from the woods is a bunch of evermore nervous tinker types armed with flaming torches and pitchforks gazing in a mix of awe, terror and mild apathy as our buxom babe slowly transforms from a totally naked blonde 70s sexbomb into a blonde 70s sexbomb who appears to be wearing bits of carpet stuck to her body.

And black olives on her nipples.

Obviously.

The group surge forward, their weapons held tightly as Borel attempts to growl menacingly at the moon whilst dribbling thru' a set of comedy pound shop dentures.

In case you hadn't guessed this is indeed the naked werewolf woman of the title.

And unfortunately the only time we get to see her in all her hirsute glory, which by the state of the make-up isn't such a bad thing if I'm honest.

Obviously not wanting us to get too excited at the thought of a hairy woman eating a group of tramps (or spend any more money than he can get away with)  we abruptly jump forward 200 years (as in the movie does, it's not like some bizarre interactive Back To The Future style performance piece) to find a very sweaty (but thankfully clothed) Borel (as the very rich but oh so slightly mad Daniela Neseri) suddenly jump up in bed with a squeak.

You see, the poor girl suffers from a recurring nightmare caused by the fact that she believes she's the reincarnation of her ancestor who was burned at the stake for being a werewolf.

Which sounds a pretty legit if not really badly constructed bit of background story.

Not all of her family agree tho' especially her dad Count Tony Neseri (Carraro from Argento's The Cat o' Nine Tails) and sister Elena (Raven-haired Giallo goddess Lassander, obviously she had a new swimming pool to pay for) who think that the whole mentalist thing could be caused by her memories of being diddled by a dustbin man as a child.

Being a wee bit stubborn Daniela refuses their offers of help preferring to 'self-medicate' her violent desires by hiding in a wardrobe and fiddling with herself whilst watching her sister and hubbie having 'the sex'.

Tho' lets be honest, do you really need a reason (medical or other) to want to watch Dagmar Lassander getting naked?

"Laugh nowwwwwooooooooohhhhhh!"

Being the cuddly and caring types her family are all very supportive, occasionally nodding in a concerned manner whilst muttering that everything will be OK whilst scrubbing the stains off the woodchip wallpaper.

And to be honest everything's actually fine, until that is Daniela decides to lure her brother-in-law into the woods, start humping his leg then tear his throat out before tossing him off a cliff.

Oops.

With the Jeremy Kyle show cancelled due to the death of a guest, the family decide that it'd probably be for the best if they had Daniela committed to the local hospital, where seeing as she spends her days stripped naked and strapped to a bed, I'm assuming isn't BUPA affiliated.

It's not all nude bondage and bed-baths tho' as Daniela often passes the time shouting "whore" at her still mourning sister and hiding scissors under her pillow in case the mad lesbian patient from two doors up tries to sneak into her room for cuddles.



Sounds a brilliant place for a break if I'm honest.

I don't know what that is in her mooth but it's definitely not shite.

Daniela obviously doesn't think so because after a week she decides that she's cured and proves this by plotting a totally non-mental escape plan that involves hiding in a doctor's car, waiting for him to leave the hospital then smashing his face repeatedly against the steering wheel before driving off into the countryside to start a new life.



Which is nice.


Unless you're that poor doctors wife and kids obviously.

It's at this point that the movie bizarrely turns into a sleazy version of the old Michael Landon TeeVee show Highway To Heaven, only this time featuring a mad woman coming across (quite literally in some cases) the damaged dregs of society and killing them in a rage of sweat, screams and howls rather than that guy from Little House On The Prairie helping club-footed kids and single mums with shingles.

Tho' I can't imagine that it would have run for 12 seasons had it followed Rino Di Silvestro's storyline can you?

But our writer/director has another twist for us because just when you think the whole film has descended into poorly made - albeit fairly unique - (moderately) hairy woman kills tramps flick our heroine bumps into a hunky stunt-man (Howard Ross AKA Renato Rossini) named Luca and everything changes again.

Except her underwear obviously which by this point I could actually smell thru' the screen.

God may want you for a sunbeam but I just want to use your mouth as a toilet.

Picking up a hitch-hiking Daniela in his patented stunt-mobile, lovely Luca wins her over with his sensitivity, charm and respect for women, hairy or not.

Oh and with his ability to fall off tall burning buildings whilst dressed as a chicken obviously.

Prepare for a romance montage like no other as we see our beautiful couple frolicking on the beach, running thru' parks and gazing into each others eyes intercut with scenes of our stuntman hero crashing thru' windows, getting bottles broken on his head and the like before setting up home together on the actual movie set.

Which I'm sure is against union rules.


Anyone?

Somewhere to park your bike (and reuse old captions obviously).

Our lovers soon realize tho'  that a fake western town isn't the best place to raise a family so Luca pops down on one knee and asks Daniela if she would mind if he took her up the village.

To live that is.

She smiles (which frankly is much more terrifying without her false choppers in) and cries "Yes!" before falling into Luca's massively muscled arms for another wee bout of the love-making.

You see it appears that it only takes the love of a rugged, sensitive stunt-man to cure any woman of her latent lycanthropy.


Which kind of explains where I've been going wrong the last few years.

Doggy style.

At long last it looks like things could finally work out quite nicely for Daniela but you forget that this is a cheaply made Italian exploitation movie (albeit one with delusions of high art) so it wont come as too much of a surprise when I tell you that one day, whilst Luca is out buying a pint of milk and various Veet hair removal products from Superdrug a gang of very bad lads turn up at the studios looking for cheap booze and evil sex.

Will the Luca return in time or will Daniela - after getting roughly bummed by the bad men - become a werewolf and hunt down her three attackers like a (hairier) Charles Bronson?

Or will true love prevail?

Dagmar Lassander: Ask your granddad.

Thank you Rino Di Silvestro (AKA Axel Berger, Cesar Todd, R.D. Silver and your 'Uncle' Pete) for not only giving us such classic calls for tolerance and love as Deported Women of the SS Special Section, Women in Cell Block 7 and The Erotic Dreams of Cleopatra but for following your dream and bringing this unique (yet oh so tedious) tale of love, sex, mental illness and furry nipples to the big screen.

A film that even after more than 30 years since my first viewing still holds a place in my heart as well as teaching me a valuable lesson in life.

When I was 12 years old I naively swapped a copy of the Video Network big box Betamax edition of Harry Novack's Axe for a dodgy VHS copy of La Lupa Mannara after being told that not only was it utterly terrifying but that it featured some top nude lady werewolf action as well as a scene where two girls stroked each others hair in a barn.

And I fell for it, hurriedly handing over Axe and excitedly running home, stopping only to buy crisps and Vimto ready for an evening of sheer terror.

And maybe, just maybe a glimpse of lady front bum, something at that point I'd only heard whispered about.

My friend Jamie had yet to obtain a copy of The Mad Foxes so the idea of men and women being different down below was pure hearsay.

But how was I managed to be duped so badly I hear you cry.

Well it's all down to the title the movie was released under in the UK.

You see over here it was called Naked Werewolf Woman.

Says it all really.

Bizarrely enough tho' the title change actually upset Di Silvestro more than the movies scathing (and in most cases hostile) reviews ever did seeing as he favoured the title The Lycanthrope, feeling that this was more in keeping with the movies serious arthouse aspirations.

No. really.

So imagine my disappointment, dear reader when what I ended up with wasn't actually the greatest, sexiest and hairiest movie ever made but a naked werewolf flick that singularly failed to deliver much in the way of either nakedness or werewolfism.

Ok I'll admit that it has an abundance of everything else you can think of; discussions on reincarnation, pseudo-scientific psycho-bollocks regarding lycanthropy as a side effect of sexual molestation, horny 70s Italian guys, revenge, tragedy and of course a stuntman years before Colt Seavers made it cool.

But that wasn't the point.

I don't think my 12 year old self ever recovered.



Come to think of it I'm still quite upset now.

I hope you're happy Rino.


Bastard.

family ties.

Greetings readers!

In between work at the moment so keeping out of trouble by randomly picking films off the shelves and watching them whilst getting slowly drunk.

Quite a short one for a change with a distinct lack of 'laugh nows' mainly due to the fact that the kids are due home soon and I've still to sort their snacks.

Luckily I'm not feeling totally dejected as I've had a few review requests (well one) so I shall get to that ASAP.

But first.....

La notte dei diavoli (AKA Night of the Devils, 1972)
Dir: Giorgio Ferroni.
Cast: Gianni Garko, Agostina Belli, Roberto Maldera, Bill Vanders, Cinzia De Carolis, Maria Monti, Teresa Gimpera and Umberto Raho.

Well we're back in Europe and back in the woods (probably just around the corner from where Annik Borel is writhing around naked) where we're introduced to the tragic traveling wood salesman, Lesley Manhorn (played by the mightily mustached Maldera) who is passing his time wandering thru' the undergrowth clad only in a dirty sweater and torn Action Slacks.

Discovered by a concerned shepherd our poorly pal is quickly carted off to the local mental hospital, tho' probably not to be stripped naked and tied to a bed.

Instead he's viciously prodded and poked by the concerned (or constipated, I couldn't tell) Dr. Tosi (Enter The Devil's Raho) as his terrifying tale unfolds through the medium of dance (oh go on then, flashbacks), leaving him - and us - horrified to discover that he's become embroiled in yet another remake of the (one halfway decent) Leo Tolstoy novel, The Family of the Vourdalak.

But this time not one directed by Mario Bava or starring Boris Karloff.

Which is a shame but lets not be too hasty.

"You ain't seen me, right?"

It transpires that during his trip home from a particularly successful building conference Lesley, after drinking far to much of the local brew and taking a wrong turn managed to wrap his car around a tree leaving him stranded in the Yugoslavian countryside.

The whole situation is a wee bit like being stuck in Dudley in the West Midlands but with less chance of getting your arse felt by a tramp.
Or catching crabs from a beer glass.

Luckily (for the viewer obviously otherwise it'd be a really crap horror movie) he finds shelter for the night in the home of the Ciuvelak family, headed by grumpy patriarch Gary (Vanders).

All seems well, until day turns to night that is, when our hero (if you can class someone who self MDF and hardboard for a living a hero) is kept awake by strange noises emanating from the woods.

Questioning his host the next morning he's told not to worry as it's just a bloodthirsty witch that lives in the trees.

Which is nice if a little unexpected.

I was expecting rats.

After running out of strawberry jam, Madeline McCann made a stunning reappearance.

It seems that the witch killed Gary's brother a while back before deciding that it'd be a wee bit more fun for everyone to resurrect him as an exotically monikered Vourdalak, a mythological Russian vampire with a penchant for time keeping, fact fans.

Anyway back to the plot where Les seems to be taking all this gypsy gossip in his stride, which might be because he's fallen head over heels in love with Gary's busty redheaded daughter Sdenka (button nosed beauty Belli), either that or the constant bowls of oxtail soup and bread are beyond compare.

Agostina Belli: Your grandad did. Twice.

Either way he doesn't even bat an eyelid when Gary decides to don a big furry hat and heads out into the woods to confront the witch once and for all.

Number one son Terry (Garko) tho' is prepared for the worst, fearing that his poor dad will get vamped and return home the next day at precisely 6 o'clock and wreak havoc on the household.

See?

Told you there was time keeping involved, I don't make this shit up you know.

Well, not all of it.

Beware! He's going to put his big chopper in you!

Suffice to say that Gary does indeed return at the allotted time the next day looking a wee bit greener than normal (which he blames on trapped wind) but insisting that he has in fact killed the witch and isn't a vampire.

The family (being a bit fick) believe him.

It won't come as too much of a surprise when I say that he's lying thru' his pointy teeth, leading to 60 minutes of death, depravity and dodgy trousers.

"I'm sorry, I have my woman's period."

Criminally under-rated and hardly seen by anyone outside the directors immediate family, Giorgio (AKA Calvin Jackson Padget) Ferroni's penultimate picture is a slow burning supernatural shocker that's a joy to watch from it's starch slacked start to it's devilish denouement. 

Whilst it never reaches the giddy heights of the directors earlier Mill of the Stone Women it's well worth the effort to track down, if only to compare how two totally different film makers (t'other being Mario Bava with his classic Black Sabbath) approach the same source material.

"Shite in my gorgeous Italian mooth you wood loving bastard!"

Whereas Bava's vision is all clinging atmospherics, subtle lighting and and knowing nods from Karloff, Ferroni decides to go straight for the jugular from the start, the film’s opening minutes featuring as they do a barrage of blood and boobs before quickly settling down into a more sombre state as the story begins good and proper.

With a pitch perfect cast playing the whole scenario as straight as Chuck Norris,
Ferroni is free to let his camera camp up the proceedings as it treats both gore and nudity with glee abandon.

And it's this freewheeling style, aided by Giorgio Gaslini's sinister score that enables the film to flip from gothic chiller to frantic chase movie almost without warning as it builds to it's climax.

Plus Agostina Belli really pulls off those early 70s fashions.

"Is it in yet?"

T'is a pity then that such a great movie is lumbered with such a generically piss-poor title, which probably hasn't helped it's availability* (or reputation) over the years, which is almost as much a shame as the fact that Ferroni made so few horror movies.

That and the fact that his best known work, Le baccanti (AKA Bondage Gladiator Sexy) is rubbish.

Well that's a bit of a downer to end on isn't it?
































*Tho' saying that I've a feeling it's just been released on Blu-Ray in 'The States' - which would be good if I could actually play US Blu's.....oh well maybe a fan will buy me a new player.

Or not.