people you fancy but shouldn't part 37.

The strictly sexy Hotel Inspector herself, Alex Polizzi. A gorgeous mix of every teacher you ever fancied crossed with the classic cinema femme fatale.

Enjoy.

wide awake club.

The Sleeper (2012).
Dir: Justin Russell.
Cast: Brittany Belland, Luke Frost, Paul Moon, Tiffany Arnold, Beverly Kristy, Jessica Cameron, Riana Ballo, Ali Ferda, Jenna Fournier, Elizabeth Lane and Jason Jay Crabtree.

It's 1981 (allegedly, tho' some of the fashions and body art say otherwise) and the girls of Alpha Gamma Theta sorority house are organising a pledge party.

And being British I have absolutely no idea what this means, apart from what I've seen in Bob Clarks 1974 shocker Black Christmas which, if I'm honest seems to be the directors sole point of reference too.

Anyway back to the plot where the strangely gerbil-faced, felt pen browed college newbie Amy (Belland, snigger, looking for the world like a hook-handed child's photofit picture of Melissa Joan Hart) is desperate to become a Theta sister, her punky 'n' spunky best friend Ava (Ferda, who thanks to the lighting and make-up folk, goes from being an almost Barbara Steele-like beauty to something unnameable between scenes which frankly can be a wee bit off-putting if you get my drift) however thinks such things are a bit rubbish and enjoys gently taking the piss out of her pal.

"He did WHAT in his cup?"

 Being best buds tho' Ava soon realises how much this means to Amy and offers to give her moral support at the sorority house 'getting to know you' bash.

Which is kinda sweet I guess.

Well it would be if a potato headed mad mentalist hadn't decided to choose that very same night to begin terrorising the house with a series of frankly bizarro (and thanks to the sound mix unintelligible) phone calls regarding the girls sleeping habits and the like.

Oh and how he's going to murder them.

To death.

Shite in mah....well shite everywhere if I'm honest.

So begins a night (well a few days) of total bloody mayhem coupled with some atrocious sound, a wee spot of line dancing, a bout of clumsily edited murders and a couple of cases of cringe-inducing cardboard acting that would make a cereal box proud.

Welcome to Fright(ful) Night.

"Yeah!!!!!!!!!! Rat fans!!!!" The CGI costs for those eyebrows musta blown the budget. And your dad.

Unfortunately coming across more simple minded than simply plotted, The Sleeper tries bravely to resurrect the 80's slasher movie genre for a modern audience with it's pseudo-Goblin soundtrack, (hopefully) stilted performances and threadbare production values but unfortunately falls at the first hurdle.

The direction.

Kudos to director/producer/writer/stuntman/cinematographer/teaboy/snow wrangler/magician/sound editor/film editor Justin Russell for believing in his project so much but it's painfully obvious due to the complete lack of suspense on show that directing isn't really his forte.

And neither is editing if the bodged murder scenes are owt to go by.

And thanks to a script full of shaky logic and glaring inconsistencies he should stay away from writing too.

Being kind tho' I wont mention the atrocious sound mix (no idea who did this), the bizarre day to night and back again goofs and the fact that an eighties based character (stand up Riana Ballo as Sexy swim-star. Stacy) sports noughties tattoos.

Pop some make-up on it or shoot her from slightly higher up, you can still see her tits.

A pair of breasts yesterday.

For those of us old enough to remember the eighties it's this lack of proper research that really lets it down, it might have a slight sheen of the era about it but things like the fashions, haircuts and eyebrows let it down.

In saying that, credit where it's due so fair play for the fantastic disco dancing sequence, choreographed by the directors missis I assume from the amount of screentime given to the un-named lead dancer.

Quite possibly the greatest bit of the movie as well as the best dance number I've ever seen in an 80's slasher homage.

Which would be OK if we were watching Footloose I guess but not if we were watching Toolbox Murders if you get what I'm saying.

STOP! Hammer (to the face) time!

It's not all bad tho' with the likes of Luke Frost's performance as Detective Clive James being a stand out, as was the aforementioned Ali Ferda, whose burgeoning friendship with sweet hearted sorority girl Laura (Fournier) is a joy to watch, hopefully the pair will team up again soon.

Oiled and naked in my basement would be great but in another movie would do I guess.

It's a pity then that the fate of these two characters is (again) fudged by bad editing and budgetary restraints.

If I'm sounding harsh it's only because I'm still reeling from how great Donner Pass was and from how much I wanted to love this too.

Maybe next time, if he gets that extra tenner and promises to share the work load out a bit more, Russell might just deliver the goods.

And there's enough on show here to get vaguely excited at that thought.

Tho' not as excited as the thought of Ali Ferda and Jenna Fournier appearing in a remake of Naked Killer.

he loves you not.

Hope you enjoyed your Valentines Day.

I know we did.

song 2.

A very quick review of Vincent D’Onofrio's directorial debut I've got important 'housey' things to do), a film it appears I'm the only person in the world to have enjoyed.

Scary eh?

Don’t Go In The Woods (2011).
Dir: Vincent D’Onofrio.
Cast: Bo Boddie, Gwynn Galitzer, Jorgen Jorgenson, Soomin Lee, Ali Tobia, Cassandra Walker and Matt Sbeglia.

Self satisfied control freak cum lead singer of up and coming rock band Crème Brûlée Nick Storm (a fantastic performance by Sbeglia, looking and acting like a young David Hess) has forced his groovy group to spend the weekend camping in the woods (woods that a sign announces that they shouldn't go in), away from everyone in order to work on their new album in the hope of getting a record deal with Simon Cowell.

Beware the bin men.

Unfortunately his band mates want to have a charty party, bringing along booze and the 'marijuana' as well as their instruments and Nick, as reasonable as ever tips the booze in the river and sticks the hash up his arse before smashing everyone's mobile phones with a handy axe.

Which is nice.

"Bang bang bang the drum of justice! See how fast the bastard burns!"

If that wasn't enough to upset his weekend, just as the 'jam session' (as you young things call it) is picking up speed his ex-girlfriend Ashley (Walker) turns up with a car full of hot young tottie carrying a fine selection of beers, crisps and snacks.

"Shite in mah mooooooooooooooth!"

As the booze flows and the songs grow none of the tuneful teens notice the dark figure stalking them from the trees.

Is it an unhappy fan?

The manager who followed them to the camp-site?

The scary combat clad hunters out looking for deer?

Or is it the enigmatic Mr. Cowell himself? Desperate to put the X in Axe Factor?

All we know is that anyone who can carry a tune ends up carrying their guts home in a bag and the only label they'll sign to is Stiff.

Cowell: Teen murdering psychopath, allegedly.

Coming across like a Sean S Cunningham directed episode of Glee, Don't Go in the Woods is a lovingly crafted musical slasher that oozes with a perfectly captured 70's style thru' every pore; from the almost burnt out colour scheme to the to the folk style soundtrack and lead Matt Sbeglia's aforementioned resemblance to a Last House on The Left era David Hess, even his vocal performance is similar.

Of the other cast members Ali Tobia, last seen in the Zman 'classic' The Killing Machines is great as the hapless Melinda as is Cassandra Walker who's winsome without ever being whiny.

This is indeed a movie made by someone with a genuine love for that era.

Which is why the Saw obsessed, Rob Zombie worshipping wee boys that make up the majority of the horror fest' crowds hate it.

The nearest they've ever been to a video nasty is accidentally finding their parents home made porn.

Watch out watch out there's a bin man about!

Like the movies behatted, schizophrenic killer, Don’t Go In The Woods is at once comfortably familiar and somehow still daringly different.

See it now and I promise you'll never have trouble getting off with a lady ever again.


Probably.

comics greatest fight scenes part one.

Captain America Vs. The Butterfly.

big bloody plug.

If you enjoy my inane ramblings here why not visit my day job?

Just promise to be kind (plus I only have one follower so I'm getting kinda lonely).

smut pedlar.

After the movie month I've had so far all I can say is

"Help me Ti West....you're my only hope".

The Innkeepers (2011).
Dir: Ti West.
Cast: Sara Paxton, Pat Healy and Kelly McGillis.

After over a hundred years of service to the community of Connecticut and it's various passers thru' the Yankee Pedlar hotel is finally locking it's doors for good after one final weekend of trading.

The hotel's last two employees, asthmatic cutsie-pie Claire (Last House on The Left and Aquamarine's Paxton) and the bespectacled professional ginger man Luke (Ghost World's Healy), decide to brighten up their last ever shifts by finally recording some real evidence of the ghost that allegedly haunts the premises.

Kelly McGillis farted...and it smelled of Tom Cruise.

Spreading their time between the hotel's paranormal-based website, fetching coffees and dealing with the Pedlars only guest; a mad mum and her brattish child, things brighten up when the bitchy Leanne Rease-Jones (Top Gun tottie McGillis) arrives to book a room.

It appears that Claire's favourite alcoholic (ex) actress has turned new age guru and is in town for a speaking engagement.

Approached by Claire for an autograph, Leanne informs our bowl haired babe that there isn't just one spirit in the hotel but three, so Claire donning headphones and with a ghost-friendly electronic voice phenomenon device at her side heads into the buildings myriad of rooms in the hope of finding some proof of paranormal activity.

Tho' hopefully not any of the three movies of the same name.

Or the Asylum Paranormal Entity rip-offs.

Or The Entity.

Tho' from the look of Luke's internet history he seems the kinda guy who'd have a rubber tit fetish.

"I'm Batman".

Starting off in the creepy confines of the hotel laundry room, Claire gently sways the microphone to and fro, whilst in a moment of visual and aural genius the camera smoothly follows the mike, the viewer hearing only the sounds that it picks up.

Pure movie porn.

Travelling slowly thru' the deserted rooms, a feeling of ominous dread fills the air, the static and silence suddenly interrupted by the distant sound of a piano playing.

Running to tell Luke of her discovery she surprised to see an old man at the front desk.

It appears that he and his late wife spent their honeymoon in the Yankee Pedlar and he's now determined to spend the night in the by now, boxed up and gutted honeymoon suite for a night of  "nostalgia".

Whatever that may mean.

Beware The Krankies basement.

When Claire scares the obnoxious young boy with her tales of ghosts forcing his mother to strop off home in a huff our tipsy twosome are left to their own devices, now even more determined to catch a ghost but after a chat with Leanne regarding the afterlife, Claire is shocked to find that there is more than one ghost in the hotel and that they mean to harm our heroine.

Noticing how scared Claire has become Leanne tries her best to allay her fears, everything will be fine so long as she doesn't go in the basement....

And that's all I'm gonna say save spoiling one of the best old fashioned spooky house stories of recent memory.

Thank you Ti West for re-igniting my love of creepiness after what can only be described as a month of mank-riddled movie monstrosities.

After the fantastic The House of the Devil, West's love letter to early 80's slashers, expectations were high regarding his follow up and frankly he hasn't disappointed.

Well, if I'm honest he seems to have disappointed a few people with it but not me.

Slow burning, slow building and as genuinely scary as a really scary thing, it's tiny (as in small number not little people) cast play out the scenario to perfection with everyone from the adorable Sara Paxton (looking so much cuter here than covered in mud in Last House) to the ginger prince himself Pat Healy, via the legend that is Kelly McGillis giving their all for a story that's as deceptively simple as it is spookily effective.

Saying that tho' the movies greatest scene involves no ghosts whatsoever but does involve Claire, a big bin and a leaky rubbish bag.

Sheer delight.

Jade Goody: The pancake years.

The real star of the film tho' must be the location itself, the very real Yankee Pedlar Inn which comes across as a kinda budget decorated, more homely  version of the Overlook from The Shining mixed with the mundane ordinariness of every cheap hotel you've ever stayed in, the kinda place where even the wallpaper can give you a chill.

Lovingly crafted and beautifully shot, West has created one of the best haunted house films I’ve seen in an age.


And my hat is doffed to the man.