people you fancy but shouldn't (part 7)

Susie Dent, the oh-so cutesome Countdown word expert.

booked.

Another collection of classy covers from the Unwell paperback collection.

Enjoy!

"Hey! Watch where you're putting your hands!"




Bites?....sucks more like.




Next up, Ms. Marple takes on Josef Fritzl.




Well that's one way of separating conjoined twins.



I really don't have the words
(but possibly the cash to buy the film rights).




What's more terrifying, a spooky skeleton spinning
a giant match or that pube like perm?




Beware the shoddily drawn beast in the garage!




"Laugh now!"




Water shit down.




Now this is just wrong (and coming from
me that must tell you something).

from me to you.

milly crestmouth!

Presenting my top five favourite Christmas albums.

price line.

Seeing as it's nearly Halloween here's horror icon (and my fave actor) Vincent Price in a few of the rare occasions that he sold out for the corporate dollar to advertise some quality products.

Enjoy.

(half) wit and wisdom (teeth).

When I was a small boy most of my weekends were spent sleeping over at my grandparents with Saturday nights consisting of sitting up late with my granddad on the sofa watching the black and white Universal horror double bill on BBC 2 whilst sipping hot chocolate. Ahhhh those days were fab! It was one of those weekend afternoons that I first came across this movie, my nan, being a Norman Wisdom fan had decided to watch it (believe it or not she's on first name terms with Brucie and, gulp, Max Bygraves-perhaps that's where my comedy genes come from-who knows). Sitting there playing with my Mego Star Trek figures behind the sofa I was dragged kicking and screaming into a world of swinging, drugs and a comedy legends saggy arse. So, when I stumbled across this gem on DVD I knew I had to face my fears.... This is my survivors story.

What's Good for the Goose (AKA Girl Trouble, What's Good for the Gander, 1969)
Dir: Menahem Golan
Cast: Norman Wisdom, Sally Geeson, Sarah Atkinson, Sally Bazely and Terence Alexander.

Short arsed, slack haired merchant banker Timothy Bartlett (Wisdom) finds his life in a deep dark rut, he hates his job, his busy (and busty) wife Margaret (Sally Bazely) ignores him and he feels his life has passed him by.

All that changes tho' when his boss is taken ill leaving Timothy as the only person that can take his place at a high powered seaside conference for important banking types.

Driving down to Southport (or is it up?), Timbo gives a lift to a couple of girlie hitch-hikers, the raven haired, button nosed Nikki (top 60's strumpet Geeson) and her best friend Meg (the not as strumpety, more mumsy Atkinson).

The girls take pity on Tim, seeing him as a wild spirit that needs set free, so decide to introduce him to the way out 1960's psychedelic world of groovy discotheques, dodgy drugs, free love, top pop combo The Pretty Things (man) and (for the love of God no) skinny dipping.

Geeson: You would, twice. Even tho' you may be thinking of her sister in Inseminoid.

Timothy finds his true self and experiences joys and passions he'd never imagined before...but everything starts to go wrong when he finds himself falling in love with Nikki.

Thigh son!

I always reckon that if it's your dream to make a serious film about human relationships, mid-life fears and one mans breakdown you could do worse than watch this movie for inspiration.

I mean, when you think of films like Love Story, Kramer vs. Kramer and Sophie Choice you have to admit that the one thing they all lack (and it's one thing that makes them lesser movies) is a barrage of jokes so awful even Talbot Rothwell would balk at the thought of using them and a sweaty comedy star mugging their way thru' the lead role.

Wisdom: Nipples like bullets.

If there's ever a point in time where the British film industry began to collapse in on itself it's with the release of this movie.

From here on in Holiday on the Buses, Carry On Emanuelle and Cannon and Ball's The Boys in Blue beckon...

Wisdom must take the majority of the blame tho' seeing as not only does he headline but he co-wrote and produced what appears to be nothing more than an excuse for him to get his kit off, smoke crack and fondle young ladies breasts for our viewing pleasures.

It's like an ITV sitcom version of The Bad Lieutenant but one where it's the audience violated rather than a nun.

Beware the judder man.

The weirdest thing about the film tho' must be seeing Menahem Golan actually directing a movie rather than producing cut price shite and using the majority of the investors cash to run guns into world trouble spots (strange but true).

Golan who later went on to form Cannon Films, makers of such classics as Superman IV: The Quest for Peace and Tobe Hooper's Invaders from Mars remake (plus bankrolling most of his 80's output-says a lot really) has the directing style of a low rent Richard (Hard Days Night, the other Superman II) Lester but without any of that that directors deft comedy touch, relying on hand cranked comedy chases, Sally Geeson's (undoubtedly nice I'll grant you) breasts and groovy (if it were 1966) crash zoom cum lava lamp effects.

"Are we there yet?"

Even by the worst 60's 'yoof' film standards the characters are mere ciphers - Nikki and Meg are feeble cardboard cut out wank fantasies for podgy, middle age men everywhere (I'm just surprised that they don't shag each other during the film seeing as that's the only free love cliche missing) and their characterizations consist of thus: Nikki: cute, dark hair, sometimes pigtailed, smokes pot, sleeps under piers, shags men. Meg: Blonde, leggy, smokes pot, sleeps under piers, shags men.

Brilliant.

Geeson: Shoes.

Sally Bazely as Norman's wife fairs no better, veering wildly from frigid ice queen to overly affectionate MILF without rhyme nor reason.

Her character is just there and never changes throughout the entire movie; after all the drugs and shagging she turns up for the films final third when the 'plot' takes on a bizarre twist revolving around Timothy's attempts to persuade his wife to stop wearing curlers and flouncy 'baby doll' nighties to bed and maybe dress a wee bit more like a tart and never even finds out about his affair.

 Just when you think the film is going to say something deep or reflect on Wisdom's characters predicament someone drops their trousers or falls over.

It's bizarre to think that after the burlesque joy of The Night They Raided Minsky's that Sir Norm decided to make a lowbrow poverty row sex comedy for no reason it seems other than to take advantage of the UK's newly-relaxed cinema censorship laws and to give himself a chance to ogle some young, firm tottie.

Nice work if you can get it tho'.

start the month...

...as you mean to go on.