loveless.

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

 "Chief, listen to me. You have to go to the mine! We were having a party and Harry Warden started killing everybody!"*

My Bloody Valentine (1981).
Dir: George Mihalka.
Cast: Paul Kelman, Lori Hallier, Neil Affleck, Keith Knight, Larry Reynolds, Patricia Hamilton, Alf Humphreys, Cynthia Dale, Helene Udy, Rob Stein, Tom Kovacs, Don Francks and Peter Cowper.

My Bloody Valentine - fucking awful Photoshop.

It's February the 14th, 1960 and the small mining town of Valentine Bluffs (twinned with the village of Spent fact fans)  is having its annual (obviously) Valentine's Day dance; a tradition that the townsfolk have followed for the past century.

Hopefully they wash their pants in between tho'.

But whilst the assorted townsfolk are happily frugging away to hit pop tunes and tanking the local home brew, five poor miners are stuck digging away at the coalface having drawn the short straw and being forced to miss the party.

Well those secret Lemonade mines aren't going to dig themselves.

Their shifty supervisors tho', feeling particularly frisky and feeling slightly foolish decked out in dinner jackets whilst in a coal mine, decide to sneak away to join the celebrations leaving their colleges underground.

I mean it's not like anything could go wrong is it?

Well, nothing except a huge explosion caused by a build up of methane gas - see? who says films aren't educational? - leaving the five miners buried alive.

And more importantly, late for their dates.

After hours of digging (thru' rock, not the 1960's fashions) the towns rescue workers finally reach the trapped men.

Unfortunately all except Harry Warden (the films stunt coordinator Cowper) are dead.

And poor old Harry has gone a wee bit mental because of the ordeal, so the local townsfolk cart him off to the Shady Nook rest home for a while.

You can see why tho', you really don't want some dirt covered, piss stained fella crying about his dead buddies when you're trying to get into the vicars daughters undies do you?

Up the casino. Yesch.

Anyway after spending a year sitting in a pair of toweling pajamas and staring into space whilst dribbling, Harry is deemed fit for release and is sent home on the eve of the accident that sent him mental in the first place.

Which is nice of the doctors to take this into consideration when thinking about discharging him.

It should come as no surprise then to find out that the first thing he does on arrival is butcher the two supervisors who left their post early to go dancing and leave a chilling warning for the townsfolk that if they even think about having another Valentine's Day dance, he'll return once again to take bloody revenge on the town.

Which is a little extreme don't you think?

Jump forward to 1980 and, whilst the mine is still the town's main place of employment, there hasn't been a single dance or party held in town since that terrible night in 1960.

Until now that is.

You see, lovely old lady Mabel Osborne (Hamilton, star of The Fenn Street Gang and Upstairs, Downstairs - no, really) has decided that the town needs something to look forward and to forget about the mine disaster and wacky Warden.

To this end she spends her every waking hour decorating the town with Valentine's Day decorations whilst the younger residents begin to get all excited at the prospect of a night of dancing, drinking and shagging in bushes.

Bless.

As Valentine's Day draws ever nearer the town's Mayor, Jeff Hanniger (Reynolds, better known as Judge Burton from the hit teevee show Street Legal) wakes to find a fresh human heart wrapped in a lovely Valentine's Day packaging has been popped thru' his letter box.

Which at least shows that the town has a damn good postal service, I mean I'm still waiting on a box of blank DVD's after three weeks.

Attached to the box is a warning to expect a few more killings if the town decides to go ahead and celebrate.

Heart in mah box!

If this wasn't enough of a warning the mysterious messenger has murdered poor Mabel as well, just to show he means business.

Hanniger calls off the dance, getting local police chief Jake Newby (Francks, the voice of Sabretooth in the X-Men vs. Street Fighter video game no less) to tell everyone that Mabel fell down the stairs and that it's being cancelled as a sign of respect.

But the hotheaded - yet deep and caring - miner (and son of the town's mayor) Jessie 'TJ' Hanniger (Ryan O'Neill alike, bollock squashing jeans wearing Kelman), who has recently returned home after failing to make it as an exotic dancer in the big city and is desperate for a drink as well as gagging for some of the sex with his ex-girlfriend Sarah (blond, sensible underwired bra wearing teevee stalwart Hallier) decides to throw his own special Valentine's party down in the mine itself.

You can tell that beneath his rough exterior that he's a nice guy tho' because along with Sarah and all the other hip young miners he's also invited Sarah's current beau, the uber-cool Axel (Affleck, better known these days as an animation timer on The Simpsons but not as Batman obviously).

Well, it's either that or he fancies a Sarah Spit roast.

All set for a wee bit o' mooth shite-in.

But can you guess who's already down the mine waiting for the young uns to turn up?

Yup it's horrid Harry Warden, all decked up in Kwik Fit garage overalls and a handy gas mask ready to slice n' dice his way thru' anyone who even remotely looks like they may start jiving or cutting a rug as the young folk say.

Unfortunately a couple of the miners and their girlfriends have decided to start the party early and head down into the mine for a little tour (and some kissing and stuff), giving Harry a head start to his killing spree and the chance to stick something unexpected into the ladies.

When Jessie and co. finally arrive to discover a pile of corpses they begin to realize that Warden is indeed back for vengeance.

Trapped in the mine with only a six pack of Bud and the homicidal Harry chasing them with a rusty pick axe, the remaining party goers must try and escape before they too end up having a very bloody Valentine....

"Are you my Mummy?"

George Mihalka's My Bloody Valentine is probably more famous for what it was missing rather than what appeared on screen, as nervous Paramount execs decided to gut the film of any and every gore scene before it's release way back in 1981.

They scarily left all the 70s style trousers in tho'.

Despite this the movie still stands up as a competent (if slightly pedestrian) little shocker with an interestingly dressed villain and slightly more rounded than usual characters, taking an essentially cheesy premise yet playing it totally straight.

Chin.

Luckily back in 2009 some smart Alec decided to remake My Bloody Valentine as a high concept 3-D shocker (the rights must have been cheap) so, suddenly all that missing footage turned up and was quickly re-instated allowing for the directors original vision to finally be seen as intended.

Or to make a few extra bob of those punters too young to remember the original.

Take your pick.

Either way it made one helluva difference to the film, adding an extra dimension to the manic miners reign of bloody terror, the scratchy footage (it's been stuck in the directors loft for 28 years so what do you expect?) gave a much missed air of evil nastiness to Wardens revenge, making you wonder why this gas masked gimp was never taken to the audiences hearts as so many other slasher stars of the era were.

He's got something to put in you.

Competently acted, nicely shot and directed with a steady, workman-like hand (obviously the rest of George's body was OK too), My Bloody Valentine deserved a wider appeal than it ever got on release.

Plus the band are no bad too.






























*Just in case you're wondering why the picture of Anne Hathaway is at the top of the review it's just because she once did a Valentine's style photoshoot for Harpers Bazaar in 2014 and I've never been able to think of a good enough reason to post it before.

Plus she's awfully pretty.

 See?

mum's the word.

 

It's day 27 of 31 days of horror and I've suddenly realized that I've not covered any babysitters in peril yet.

Actually I've not covered any babysitters in anything for years.

Tho' I've always said I'd make an exception for Nancy Loomis in Halloween.

Or just Nancy Loomis in general if I'm honest.

 

Loomis....no reason other than she's absolutely lovely.

Babysitter Wanted (2008).

Dir: Jonas Barnes and Michael Manasseri.
Cast: Sarah Thompson, Matt Dallas, Bill Moseley, Bruce Thomas, Nana Visitor, Monty Bane and Kai Caster.

Hungry bum!

 

The sensibly shoed and incredibly cute Christian college newbie Angie Albright (Thompson from teevee's Angel) is leaving home - and her God bothering mum - for the first time ever in order to study art history at the community college in the next town.

Excitedly setting off on her long car journey to freedom she's soon hit by a wave of disappointment when upon arriving at her new digs she discovers that her roommate is a short-skirted stoner, the floor is covered in a scary mix of egg, sweat and semen stains and that someone has sold her bed.

Oh and less importantly local girls have been going missing.

But at least she still has the Lord.

And a really peachy bum if I'm totally honest so it's not all bad.

She might be sleeping now but just wait till the communion starts.

After a long hard chat to Jesus, our holy heroine decides to get a job to pay for a new bed and lo and behold there just happens to be a babysitting position advertised on the college notice board.

What are the chances eh?

Unfortunately tho' Angie can't get to excited seeing as it appears that she's being stalked around campus by a tall woolly hatted man in scruffy work boots with an uncanny (and frankly unnerving) ability to make art history slide show pictures appear on his face at random.

Which if nothing else should secure him a spot on the Britain's Got Talent finals.

Or at the very least in your mums bed.

Tho' just being male with a pulse should do that.

At least that's what your Uncle Ted said.

Laugh now!

Luckily she's got a new friend to chat to about it, the cool Catholic hunk Rick (Kyle XY star and former 80's super soap Dallas) whom she keeps bumping into around campus.

When he's not skulking around confessional boxes that is.

After a quick phone call and a couple of Hail Mary's Angie drives out to meet the couple in need of a sitter; the farm-working and plaid loving Stanton's (Birds of Prey's Batman himself Thomas and Dead Zone regular, one-time Ms. USA and former Bond Dalton) along with their girlie haired cowboy obsessed son, the monosyllabic Sam (pretty lipped Caster best known for Children of the Corn: Genesis, tho' that isn't really his fault).

Chatting to Mrs Stanton whilst enjoying a glass of homemade lemonade, Angie weighs up the pros and cons of the job (Pros: it pays well, cons: Sam's a freak and the house is in the middle of nowhere) before deciding to take it.

I mean what's the worse thing that could happen?

"You're my favourite Deputy....of love!"

On returning to her room Angie's mood is dampened a little when she finds someone has helpfully stuck pictures of the missing local girls to her dorm door leaving her no choice but to whine at Rick (who just happened to be passing) for a bit before heading to see the local sheriff (genre god Moseley in a scene stealing cameo) who assures her that everything is fine.

But if by some strange quirk of fate a mad mentalist does try to kill her he suggests that she should call him.

Which is nice.

The Lucy Powell bike stand was sure to be a big hit this coming Christmas.

The babysitting day soon comes around and wouldn't you know it Angie's car has broken down but never fear as Jack of all trades Rick is here to save the day, not only offering to spend his Saturday night fiddling with her tubes and pumping her engine but also promising to take her over to the Stanton's house too.

Obviously this does mean that if there is someone stalking our gospel lovin' gal and he does strike tonight that she's stuck in the middle of nowhere alone.

Well alone apart from sinister Sam who just happens to be the freakiest movie child this side of Tommy in Manhattan Baby.

I mean not content with wandering silently round the house like some mini Woody sex doll the little sod insists on eating only raw meat.

Without a fork.

How common.

"Hey kids! Let's round up a posse and have ourselves a spit roast!"

Everything is going smoothly (well for about 10 minutes, the movie's not that long, it only feels it) until Angie begins to hear noises from upstairs and banging at the front door.

Luckily the suspense is soon broken by Sam who wakes up mumbling "I'm hungry" before helping himself to some of the aforementioned meaty bits left in a bowl by the door before promptly running away leaving an oh so slightly panicking Angie torn between trying to find him, cleaning up the blood from the kitchen floor and avoiding the big bald fucker with the knife who's suddenly appeared from nowhere and is currently skulking about the porch.

Kids eh?

So who is the mysterious stalker?

Will Rick fix Angie's car?

And what has Sam been asked to "keep under his hat?"

From the former personal assistant to Neal H. Moritz on such hits as Fast & The Furious, SWAT and 2 Fast 2 Furious via a breakthru performance as the scary Irish Henchman in Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle, writer/director Jonas Barnes and fresh-faced actor turned director Michael Manasseri comes this charming if lightweight addition to the babysitter botherer genre.

And frankly it's not too shady at all.

Suffering somewhat from being released around the same time as Ti West's modern day classic The House of The Devil, Babysitter Wanted, after a fairly serious pre-credit murder plays out the rest of the plot with a slightly more tongue in cheek feel, more Tales of The Unexpected than Hammer House of Horror with it's heady mix of horror clichés and instantly recognizable ciphers, all lovingly crafted into an obvious homage to a genre the pair obviously love.

Either that or I'm getting to a point where I've watched so much shite this month that as soon as something non offensive and halfway decent comes along I'm that relieved that I try to marry it.

Only time, and my analyst truly knows the answer to that.

How I met your mother.

Yes I know bits of it made no sense and it's about 20 minutes too long but it's heart was in the right place.

Plus it boasts a really good cast, led by the yummily librarian-like Sarah Thompson; all big eyes and tight sweaters whilst both Bruce Thomas and Kristen Dalton are equally as lovable as the friendly farm folk in need of a sitter for scary Sam.

Thompson: luscious librarian love.

Which brings me to Kai Caster, who with the face of an angel, the lips of a Parisian whore and the haircut of '80's horror legend Giovanni Frezza was always destined to go far.

Tho' he'd have probably gone even further than Children Of The Corn: Genesis, The Baxters and A Girl Named Jo if his folks had kept their food bins at the bottom of the yard locked.

It's inoffensive, it's harmless and it features Bill Moseley in a rare 'nice guy' role and a bowl haired wee boy chewing lumps of flesh like his life depended on it.

You could do worse.

g.i. nooooo!

Day 23 of the by now tiresome 31 days of horror and it's time for a wee bit of slasher action.

Someone was wearing a T-shirt of this movie in town on Monday and I'm easily swayed so there you go.

Plus I know at least one person who enjoyed this film so they might leave a comment.

I can but wish. 

Rosemary's Killer (AKA The Prowler, 1981).
Dir: Joseph Zito.
Cast: Vicky Dawson, Christopher Goutman, Cindy Weintraub, Farley Granger, Lisa Dunsheath, David Sederholm, Diane Rode, Bryan Englund, Donna Davis, Joy Glaccum, Timothy Wahrer and Lawrence Tierney.

"Come on, kid, don't play hard to get. What about New Year's Eve?"   "Well, that was different. I couldn't help myself".

It's the end of World War II and the screen is full of newsreel footage showing hundreds of cheering GI's celebrating having single handedly saved the world from the evils of illegal invasions, torturing civilians, abusing minorities and all manner of fascistic behaviour.

My how times have changed.

Unfortunately one poor soldier wont be getting the celebratory leg over he deserves as his lady love, a woman named Rosemary (Glaccum, from The Children. No not the shite one, the other one.) has decided to dump him in favour of shagging a skinny bloke called Roy (Wahrer in his only screen role outside his family home movies).

That's not all tho' because the pair have decided to officially  announce their relationship  at the town graduation cum welcome home brave soldiers dance.

Fucking hell the sign must have been massive.

Bored with frugging to Glenn Miller, the loved up duo head off to the duck pond to spend some quality time together.

Oh and maybe a quick breast/ball fondle session.

As is the way with slasher movies tho', an ominous figure clad in full combat fatigues and carrying a pitchfork is watching them from behind a bush.

18 flowery pages to tell you she's fucking your dad. Bloody typical.

Although the power is suddenly cut off our amorous couple carry on snogging, until the aforementioned prowler sneaks up behind them and stabs the pair with the pitchfork creating a massive blood and spunk stained human kebab.

Gazing at his handiwork the crazed killer gently pops a long-stemmed red rose in the dead woman's hand.

Spooky.

Fast forward thirty five years and the town is preparing for it's first graduation dance since that terrible night.

Enter (oh go on then, I have a few minutes free) the man-chinned little miss sensible Pam (As the World Turns Dawson) who is busy helping to decorate a bandstand whilst swooning over her true love, the Lego haired deputy sheriff Mark (latter day teevee exec' and cut price Dirk Benedict-alike Goutman) whilst trying to keep her cliched group of college chums from removing their clothes and shagging in the car park.

Teenagers eh?

Pam desperately tries to ignore Mark's giant pink nipple.

But not everyone is happy about the return of the graduation party, well I say not everyone but I really mean long dead Rosemary's wheelchair bound dad Major Chatham (Big Joe himself, Tierney), a poor old soul who's spent every waking minute since his daughters untimely death sitting in his window watching co-ed's get undressed.

Which is as good a way as any when dealing with grief I guess.

Anyway, back at the sheriff's office and Pam is discussing her news article on Rosemary's killer (the case not the film obviously) with local lawman George Fraser (Farley "My mortgage is how much?!!?" Granger) when the radio squawks to life with a report that an unknown assailant has robbed a nearby pound shop,  slashed up the manager and taken his car.

But that's not all for it seems that the authorities are concerned that the killer is headed towards the town.

Yikes.

A killer, heading toward a town on the very night that 35 years ago someone was murdered?

What are the chances eh readers?

Despite (or because of) this news, sheriff Fraser refuses to cancel his fishing trip, putting London (the deputy not the city) in charge for the evening.

Pam: She'll have someone's eye out with that chin.

Being the concerned type (and with Jamie Lee Curtis unavailable) Pam airs her fears regarding the chance of a killing spree taking place on graduation night with her roommates; the pixie haired, peachy arsed  Sherry (ex psychiatric nurse, model and Playboy Bunny Dunsheath) and permanently pouting Lisa (Weintraub, later to be seen being chased by horny fish-men in the Corman classic Humanoids from the Deep).

Sherry however is more concerned with getting everyone out of the dorm before her buff beau Carl (Ryan's Hope star Sederholm) turns up whilst Lisa is busy flashing her 70's style breasts at Major Chatham across the street.

Realizing that no-one really gives two fucks about what she thinks Pam sighs wistfully and continues putting the  finishing touches to her outfit.

But elsewhere a shadowy figure is also preparing for the graduation dance, tho' there are no dresses or clumpy shoes for this person,  just a second world war combat uniform, complemented with a shiny bayonet, ultra sharp hunting knife and a handy sawn-off shotgun.

Which is nice, if a little over the top for a night of drink and jiving if I'm honest.

As Lisa and Pam leave for the dance Sherry decides to kill the time waiting for Carl by getting totally naked and incredibly foamy in the shower, proving once and for all that dreams do come true.

All I can say is that towel is horrible.

As expected Carl turns up right on cue and after a quick hello and some over rehearsed saucy banter goes into the shared bedroom to undress.

Just as he's pulling down his big daddy Y-fronts a combat clad intruder takes him violently from behind and plunges a bayonet straight into the top of his head and out thru' his neck, forcing his eyes to roll back in their sockets as if in the middle of a particularly memorable masturbation session.

Sherry, oblivious to all this knifing, is still gently soaping up her perky young breasts when the killer enters the room and, mistaking him for her boyfriend suggestively asks if he has anything to put in her.

As luck would have it the killer does indeed have something hard and pointed to enter Sherry with.

Unfortunately it's a pitchfork which he wastes no time in plunging deep into her stomach, giving us ample opportunity to be at once repulsed by the murder yet strangely turned on as her bloodied boobs bounce about like playful puppies in a bag.

And they say horror films affect the mind.

"Put it in me!"

Back at the party, Pam is busying herself serving drinks and looking concerned when she notices Mark arrive but her true love is soon dragged onto the dance floor by slutty causing our heroine to pull a face not too dissimilar to a bulldog licking piss of John Nettles.

Which is unusual to say the least.

Unsure how to react Pam starts fiddling with the cocktails in the manner of a Prozac dependent housewife, only stopping to smile when Mark, barely hiding the semi caused by Lisa's grinding comes over to the table.

Things go from bad to worse tho' when a tipsy Lisa accidentally  thrust her fanny at Mark's arse causing him to bang his erection on the table covering Pam's dress with sticky liquids.

Fairly furious and extremely damp she heads back to the dorm to change her outfit.

She's dreaming of a large mooth shite....

And what an outfit she chooses, throwing caution (and all signs of good taste) to the wind she changes into the kind of powder blue affair usually associated with Parkinson's riddled old ladies topped off with a matching chiffon top.

Nice.

Obviously looking good for Mark is a complicated task seeing as she not only fails to notice that the bed is covered in blood but also totally misses the two corpses (and the killer) in the bathroom.

As she leaves the apartment and heads down the stairs she notices the faint smell of egg, gravy, dried blood and shame wafting down the corridor and, looking up to see where it could be coming from notices what looks like a G.I. standing outside her room door.

understandably she runs away.

But the killer gives chase.

Pam is too quick for the killer tho' (well to be honest he is getting on a bit and is carrying a full army kit around with him) and easily outruns him, pausing only to bump into Major Chatham - who appears to be out for a midnight roll - and drop her handbag before coming across a concerned (or is that constipated?) Mark.

After persuading Pam to sit in his car (no doubt to prepare for a wee bit of biting later) Mark proceeds to go all Nancy Drew on us (well he has the hair) and investigate the dorm.

Is it too much to believe that he too misses the bodies in the bathroom?

Matt Hancock: The Return.

Deciding the most likely culprit is the grumpy old cripple, Pam and Mark head over to Major Chatham's house only to find that he's not home.

He must still be trying to get his wheelchair - and ample arse - up the porch stairs the poor sod.

As a plus point it does give our dynamic duo a chance to fiddle about in his drawers and search for his pension book.

Erm...I mean look for clues.

And pictures of your gran naked.

Little do they realize that the killer is watching them from within the shoe cupboard.

Your gran (not) naked.

After finding a photo album that reminds the viewers about the opening sequence the pair then drive back to the dance to tell everyone's favourite Home Economics teacher, the strangely alluring Miss Allison (Davis, last seen signing on) about the life size Action Man prowling around the town.

Being the sensible type she quickly tells her students that they should stay inside until the combat-clad mentalist has been apprehended and - surprisingly for an 80s slasher movie - everyone worryingly agrees.

All except Lisa that is who, pissed off at her boyfriend Paul for being way too drunk to perform (either on the dance floor or elsewhere) has gone to the swimming pool for a late night dip.

In her pants the dirty girl.

Your mum's cum face (ask your Uncle Peter).

After a few laps and dives in the obviously freezing water (you can tell because you can see her breath, how else?), Lisa decides to head back to the party but as she climbs the steps out of the pool the cruel killer kicks her in the face before bayoneting her in the throat leaving her still wriggling underwear clad body to sink to the bottom. 

Back at the dance Paul has noticed that Lisa is missing but is so drunk and abusive that the poor sod gets arrested by Mark and thrown in jail, giving Mark and Pam time to look longingly at each other over coffee, discuss the original murder and attempt to contact Sheriff Fraser.

Who, it transpires is out night fishing and wont be back till morning.

Luckily just as the conversation is about to grind to an uncomfortable halt, the creepily bearded Pat from the local newsagent turns up drunk complaining that the local cemetery has been desecrated by teenagers before turning tail and going home.

Nothing like moving forward the plot in a totally natural way is there?

Anyway, Pam and Mark decide to check it out.

Back at the party a concerned (and fairly attractive for an older woman) Miss Allison has gone outside in the hope of finding Lisa.

Noticing the pool is full of blood she panics, flaps her arms like a chicken and letting out high pitched bleating noises before attempting to get help only to be brutally murdered by the killer using his handy bayonet.

Pam Ayres...Shitey mooth, bayonetty neck , legs akimbo, Bradford, 1974....Yesch!

Meanwhile at the cemetery our law abiding love birds have discovered that Rosemary Chatham's grave has been dug up and her putrid corpse replaced with the frankly much more attractive body of Lisa, still all wet and glistening after the pool incident.

Mark must be made of stronger stuff than me tho' seeing as he's not even tempted to have a wee fiddle with her, preferring to head back over to the Major's house for one last nosy around.

Beware the Binmen!

Deciding that the best course of action would be to split up and stumble around in the dark it's not long before Mark is beaten unconscious by the killer.

Pam, on the other hand has busied herself pulling Rosemary's rotted corpse (still in her graduation dress) from the chimney plume.

This at least shows that the killer has a good sense of humour, seeing as the only reason for putting it there in the first place is to give some unsuspecting passer by a bloody good fright.

Shouting for Mark, Pam turns around to find herself face to balaclava with the murderer, luckily she experienced this earlier and runs away again, firstly hiding under a bed (with a rat. Gah!) before finally getting herself trapped in the downstairs utility room with our pitchfork wielding pal.

Don't worry too much tho', it's a walk in one, not one of those tiny things you get in modern houses.

Will Pam survive long enough to finally kiss Mark?

Will Marks hair have saved him from permanent brain damage?

Who is the killer?

And will local mentalist Otto from the shop turn up at any point carrying a shotgun for no reason?

Joseph Zito's 1981 movie is an oft forgotten gem from the slasher era, similar in style and plot to George Mihalka's My Bloody Valentine released earlier that year Rosemary's Killer is often seen as the less effective of the two.

Which is a wee bit bizarre seeing as Rosemary's Killer boasts a halfway decent cast, is well directed with finesse and style by Zito and features some of Tom Savini's best work.

Plus Farley Granger is in it, making a change from seeing a drunken Cameron Mitchell stumble his way thru a slasher film which seemed to be the done thing at the time.

And lest we forget a soaking and soapy Lisa Dunsheath in all her cutesy glory.

Surely reason enough to adore this movie?

The connoisseurs choice when it comes to little seen crazed killer flicks, Rosemary's Killer is a lean, mean little movie that builds on the directors earlier Bloodrage (naive country boy kills hookers) and nicely sets him up for the directors gig on Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter.

Where as you may be aware he made the frankly fantastic decision to cast Crispin Glover AND let him dance to the hit Love Is A Lie by top rockers Lion.

And for that we salute him.

Bizarrely he left horror behind after his visit to Crystal Lake and is probably better known these days for introducing the world to the delights of the Chuck Norris starring Missing in Action series.

Now that is scary.

gettin' lippy with it.

Day 22 of 31 days of horror, just in case you've lost count.

Crazy Lips (Hakkyousuru kuchibiru, 2000)
Dir: Sasaki Hirohisa.
Cast: Miwa Hitomi, Suzuki Kazuma, Osugi Ren, Abe Hiroshi, Natsukawa Hijiri, Yura Yoshiko, Kuribayashi Tomomi, Yumi Yoshiyuki and Suzuki Ikko

"What is happening inside that house?"

Obviously aiming for the title of world's most dysfunctional family, the Kuramashi's are a tough act to beat.

Not only have they spent years in hiding due to the fact that daddy Kuramashi was executed for being a depraved serial killer but it looks like number one son Michio (Kazuma) may be following in his fathers footsteps after being accused of the vile slaughter of four teenage girls.

Tho' is there any other kind of slaughter?

Unfortunately for the rest of the family Michio has gone into hiding, leaving his heartbroken mum (Yoshiyuki, star of Killer Pussy and the classic Queen Peach) and his young sisters, Satomi (long faced Hitomi, she of Ju-On: The Curse, Last Supper and Misa the Dark Angel) and Kaori (Hijiri, don't recognize here from owt, sorry) to face the snide comments, bullying ways and verbal abuse from the local police, the gutter press and even the neighbours (tho' not Madge Bishop because she's a nice lady).

Indeed.

They family rise every morning to find paparazzi scum and TeeVee news crews camped out amongst their begonias whilst the filthy bastard copper Tony Soap (Ikko from the lactate-tasic Visitor Q) takes every opportunity to kick at their door, wear his shoes in the house and slurp his coffee loudly whilst angrily messing up the family kitchen (he even put the spoons in the knife section at one point) and shouting random abuse at them.

Which is nice if a little outside usual police practices, don't fret too much tho' he'll be dead soon.

If that wasn't enough one of the folk that lives over the road keeps lobbing rubbish bins thru' their windows every lunchtime without fail.

With all this going on it's not too surprising that the Kuramashi's youngest daughter Satomi, desperate to find the identity of the real killer decides to hire a a spooky psychic named Mamiya (Yoshiko from the arthouse classic Spanking Love) and her ratty Michael Barrymore of a minder Toumato come over and perform a séance all in the hope of contacting the victims who, in turn can name the mentalist murderer and hopefully clear their brothers name.

It's a wee bit like Eastenders really, but without the ugly actors.


On paper this may sound like quite a good plan till you realize that the dead girls had their heads cut off so are unable to spill the beans.

It's a nice change to not have to caption these myself.

Resourceful as ever Mamiya has a back up plan and orders Satomi to search across town for the missing heads (obvious really) but her help comes at a price.

Realizing that the family don't have a spare ¥5,000,000 lying around (or even hidden in the mattress) the psychic offers to continue helping if Satomi allows Touma to roughly take Mrs. Kuramashi from behind.

Twice.

Sorry, did I say Eastenders? I really meant Hollyoaks.

Your uncle and your girlfriend last Saturday.

Unable to concentrate on her homework due to all the noise that her mother and Touma are making, Satomi sneaks out to the local kiddies play park for a nice wee musical interlude and a quick chat with the tres foxy (and very ginger) FBI agent Lucy Anderson (Tomomi) and her sidekick , 'Foxy' Narimoto (Hiroshi the one that wasn't the giant lizard in Godzilla 2000).

No idea why the FBI are involved or why they decide to recruit a schoolgirl to join a secret organization dedicated to fighting evil cults and rubber monsters but heyho, it must of made sense to someone.

Satomi excitedly agrees and is introduced to the group's leader, the even more mysterious and frighteningly bespectacled 'Colonel' (cartoon Chihuahua Ren) who disguises himself as a reality teevee host and communicates to her via the TV set in the living room.

Same here.

And what does all this have to do with the admittedly ho-hum serial killer/arse sex plot?

Well you see, it appears that the FBI have evidence that Mamiya and Touma are leaders of a maniacal cult determined to awaken an ancient Lovecraftian monster by harnessing the sexual energies released from taking Mrs. Kuramashi up the casino.

Admit it, you'd kinda figured that out tho' hadn't you?

That's not the full extent of their evil scheme tho' as they're also planning - for no reason other than to fill the schoolgirl sex quota - to force poor Satomi to engage in rudeness with the hanging - yet still stiff - corpse of Tony Soap.

How will she explain that to her gran?

If that wasn't enough drama, dirtiness and danger for you the ghostly girl victims - bored with being dead and obviously wanting the movie to finish as soon as possible - have decided to use their spooky powers and find their heads themselves.

No idea how, probably just crawling around randomly picking up round stuff.

You never know one might turn up with a football or a big cabbage.

I'd say that was too silly but to be honest with this movie it wouldn't surprise me.

The big question tho' is will the ghost gals discover the killers true identity before the evil monster wakes from his centuries old slumber or will someone accidentally launch a nuclear strike on the unfortunate Kuramashi family before they get a chance to clear their sons name?

You think I'm joking about the nuclear attack don't you?

From the writer of Ringu, the producer of Ju-On: The Grudge and the executive producer of Audition (as the DVD cover proudly proclaims) Crazy Lips was heralded as Japan's answer to the TeeVee hit The X Files but with added anal violation and death by dildo but minus the drawback of having to look at David Duchovny's horse like face on a weekly basis.

Lollypops!

 

 

Lulling it's audience into a false sense of security by starting out like any number of bog standard late-90’s J-horror movies, thirty minutes in Crazy Lips takes a sudden and unexpected U-turn, and smashes any preconceptions the viewer may have about the unfolding story before morphing into into a chaotic car crash of a movie, throwing headless ghosts, dark cults a smattering of kung fu and necrophiliac sex into the mix as if the film makers were hoping at least one of the ingredients would work in context of the story.

Or at least keep the masturbating teens happy.

"Call me Snake!"

Not always enjoyable - to be honest some of it isn't even that watchable - but never the less always interesting to look at, Crazy Lips (and it's sequel Gore From Outer Space) is the type of lazy Sunday afternoon movie that both you and your gran will enjoy.

If, like mine, your gran liked a wee bit of necrophilia at the weekend.

chicken run.

Seeing as I've read recently that somebody has bought the rights to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in an attempt to reboot/reinvigorate the franchise (sorry can't remember who and I can't be arsed checking...do you think this is a real film blog or something?) I reckoned it'd be good to revisit this classic.

To be honest I was gonna give the Netflix version another go but that's too shite even for this blog.

 

Anyway enjoy. 

 

 

To be honest "Laugh Now" is way too obvious a caption.

 

 

 

 

Leatherface (2017).
Dir: Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo.
Cast:  Stephen Dorff, Vanessa Grasse, Sam Strike, Lili Taylor, Finn Jones, James Bloor, Jessica Madsen, Sam Coleman and Julian Kosto.

Surely it should say the origin of Leatherface seeing as the origin of TCM is actually the film? Just saying.

Deep in the heart of Texas (played quite convincingly - surprisingly enough - by a small Bulgarian town) on the Sawyer homestead, mucky-faced mentalist matriarch Verna Sawyer (Lili - "The school fees are how much?" - Taylor) is busy organizing a birthday party for her youngest son/nephew/brother Jedidiah.

And what is the little tyke getting for his birthday?

Well the chance to slaughter a local hick they found wandering around the farm who it seems was attempting to steal a pig.

Presenting Jedidiah with a chainsaw the family cheer on the boy as he slowly (well he only has tiny legs) approaches the prone pig puller.

Being a sweet caring child tho' Jedidiah refuses, preferring to finish his cake leaving grandpa to finish the job with his trusty hammer.

Teeth.

Jump forward to 1955 where sweet young things Betty Hartman (the Converse-clad, button nosed pixie like Grasse) and Ted - hey fanboys here's a reference for you - Hardesty (Kosto) are happily driving down a country road when they come across (not in that way even tho' he's on all fours with his peachy arse sticking in the air) little Jedidiah clad only in a pair of soiled undies and a cow head.

No really.

Betty, being a nice girl (and obvious victim fodder, no one that cute could possibly survive that long in a horror movie) follows the wee fella to a dilapidated old barn where the rest of the Sawyer family are in hiding ready to drop a tractor engine on her head.

Unfortunately for them her father is not only the mad as a bag of spanners local Sheriff but also played by the frankly marvelous Stephen ("She's bleeding me dry with this divorce settlement!") Dorff who reacts by angrily shouting at everyone before taking little Jedidiah into custody and carting him off to the Gorman House Youth Reform School for 'his own safety'.

It's like a slightly more violent episode of The Archers really.

"Milk it."

With the backstory out of the way it's time to start the movie good and proper as we (quantum) leap ten years into the future where the recently-hired nurse Elizabeth White (It Came From The Desert star Grasse) is spending her first day at work bonding with the patients.

As opposed to abusing them ala One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest because no cliché works quite like an old cliché.

And just to show how nice she really is she stands up for the misunderstood and incredibly broody Jackson (Strike) when he steps in to stop the hulking monosyllabic Bud (ex Doctor Who companion Coleman) getting into trouble for fighting with the buck-toothed badboy Ike (Bloor who scarily looks like a living breathing human/Daffy Duck hybrid and so by default is the scariest thing in the film).

Grasse modeling the incredibly authentic 1960s nurses uniform she wears in the film...or is it in your dads bed?

Things are about to take a turn for the worse tho' as no sooner has our heroine calmed everyone down when Verna turns up with an injunction to allow her to see her son.

Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on if you want to watch a horror movie or a courtroom drama) the creepy head of the hospital Doctor Shanga Lang (Adamson who's been in loads of stuff including your auntie and your mum. Twice) tells her to fuck off adding that she couldn't see him even if they wanted her to seeing as they've changed Jedidiah's name to something else because it wouldn't fit on the name labels in his vest and what do you know the file with his new name has fallen down the back of the sofa.

Taking matters into her own (very delicate) hands the mentalist mum inadvertently causes a riot whilst searching for her boy allowing Ike and his burned boobed girlfriend Clarice (mother of Reservoir Dogs star Micheal, Jessica Madsen) to kidnap Elizabeth - along with Bud and Jackson - and steal a car in an attempt to flee to Mexico.

Moonhead.

As the group travel between rest stop diners and deserted caravans via various murder sprees, country roads and bloodbaths, Sheriff Hartman discovers that one of the group is actually Jedidiah so alongside his Deputy Nancy Sorells (Former Game of Thrones homosexualist, nephew of Doctor Who companion Jo Grant and Iron Fist himself Jones) heads off in hot pursuit.

Realizing that they've hit the halfway point with nary a hint of sleazy sex-based shenanigans our merry band of bonkers buddies take refuge in a rundown mobile home, abandoned save for the hanging putrefying corpse of its former owner, which not only supplies us with a cheap jump scare but gives Ike an excuse to whoop and giggles a lot whilst Clarice strips naked to reveal what a good job the make up department have done on her burn scars (and also show off the frankly magnificent fake nipples she's sporting) before the pair - unsurprisingly - engage in a necrophiliac threeway in an attempt to remind us just how down right bad they really are but only manages to make the viewer pine for the wonderful Beatrice Manowski in Nekromantik.

Tho' to be honest I never really need an excuse to do that.

Beatrice Manowski: Don't try this at home, again.

As the gruesome twosome sleep off their sexy hi-jinks Elizabeth makes a break for the woods only to be very quickly grabbed by a by now awake Ike who, after making some lewd suggestions decides to pick on Bud instead.

This not only saves Elizabeth from a brutal bumming but riles Bud up enough to stomp on Ike's head before falling asleep on his corpse.

Which is nice.

The next morning, Clarice notices that Ike is missing (she's observant like that) and heads off to find him leaving Jackson and Elizabeth to find Bud and wake him up before quickly running away.

Which is what I would love to do at this point if I'm honest, I mean I'm only sticking around to see if Lili Taylor turns up again - I've not been the same since I saw her in I Shot Andy Warhol well I'm only flesh and blood plus 'tween her and Dorff it's like a veritable reunion.

Taylor: Swift kick to the head.

It's not long tho' before crusty Clarice is apprehended by an ever more angry Hartman who in a fit of pique shoots her in the head as Bud, Jackson and Elizabeth watch from their hiding place inside a dead cow.

No.

Really.

Crawling out of the poor beasts arse our plucky trio make their way toward the highway where Elizabeth attempts to get the attention of a passing policeman who - as they are known to do in The States - responds by shooting Bud in the head.

This sends an understandably jittery Jackson into a violent rage culminating in him shutting the poor policeman's head in the car door whilst pinching his nipples before stealing the by now very messy motor and flooring it.

But Hartman is in hot pursuit.

www.nofuckingneed.com/yourmumsbestgoingoutclothes

In a chase scene the like of which hasn't been seen since the episode of Father Ted with the milk float, Hartman soon catches up with the daring duo, opening fire on the car and shooting Jackson in the mouth (which lets be honest is better than him shite-ing in it) causing a rather nasty crash.

And a wee bit of chafing.

As time passes and the screen fades thru black Elizabeth suddenly wakes to find herself handcuffed to the backdoor of Hartman's car.

We've all been there.

The silence is broken by Sorells on the radio (as in the police radio - he's not crooning a song on pick of the pops or anything) and Elizabeth manages to grab the mic with her feet and call for help but unbeknown to our heroine Sorells is in the pay of Verna, heading out to her homestead to  reveal her - and Hartman's - whereabouts.

It appears that Jackson is, in fact, Jedidiah and the crazy copper has him trussed up in the same barn his daughter was killed in.

Pausing only to feed Sorells to some pigs she gathers her family and heads over to the barn for a final confrontation with Hartman.

FOLD ME? - must not be just the plot that's paper thin then.

With Elizabeth trussed up like a Christmas turkey (albeit a turkey with wonderfully milky white thighs you could ski down) and an injured Jackson lying in a pool of his own piss moaning like your mum at the works end of year do Hartman stands legs akimbo with a shotgun in his hand goading the family to attack.

Which they do and with there being five of them they soon overpower the Sheriff and take him back to their house for tea, crumpets and a wee bit of chainsaw chopping courtesy of the by now shot to fuck - and flappy faced - Jackson/ Jedidiah.

In the confusion Elizabeth breaks free of her bonds and legs it into the woods, Jedidiah and co. in hot pursuit.

You can see where this is going can't you?

"Put it in me!"

Tripping over a discarded bear-trap Elizabeth is soon at the mercy of the by now deranged Jedidiah, his face held together with a makeshift muzzle constructed from an old thong and an eggcup as he slowly approaches his prone pal his chainsaw wobbling in the air menacingly.

OK I'll be honest he looks a wee bit of a cock but at least he's trying.

"Hello...are yu the blind man?"

Will Elizabeth be able to appeal to her one-time friends softer side or will she inadvertently insult his mum causing him to behead her in a fit of pique?

And if this does happen will he fashion Elizabeth's face into a leathery mask and take to wearing it (and shitly applied lipstick) around the house?

Go on, guess.

The prequel to the Tremaine 'Trey Songz' Neverson starring sequel cum reboot that no-one ever asked for (Ok maybe one person did and yes I'm looking at you nan) Leatherface is a futile attempt to breathe new life into a horror franchise that's last halfway decent entry was released way back in 1986.

Ignoring the brilliant Part 2 (probably) as well as Parts 3 and 4 - and the various reboots and rejigs since - Leatherface takes us back to the birth of a horror icon (again) in the vain hope that someone (anyone?) is interested, ticking all the deep south clichés along the way before exploding into an ill-advised mess of wobbly mantits, bad teeth, cheap gore and a twist so obvious you'll be surprised that they didn't just add another twist on the end to make up for it.

Or at least an apology.

Directors Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo (who obviously shot their horror wad when writing and directing the frankly marvelous Livide and the not too shady Inside) do their best with the limited budget available and whilst Bugaria does a passable impression of Texas and the cast try to add some sparkle to the hackneyed dialogue it's an uphill struggle that's neither shlocky enough or gruesome enough to be truly memorable.

Or even remotely enjoyable for any reason other than to marvel at the depths Lili Taylor and Stephen Dorff's careers have sunk to.

A friend of mine in it's defense said that "It's the best TCM movie not directed by Tobe Hooper."

Which sums it up perfectly.

 Avoid.

Unless you get turned on by fake rubbery nipples and bad teeth.