evening shade.

Preparing for Ash Vs. Evil Dead let's head back to how it all really started....

Equinox (1970).
Dir: Jack Woods and Dennis Muren.
Cast: Edward Connell, Frank Boers Jr, Barbara Hewitt, Robin Christopher, Jack Woods, Fritz Leiber and James Phillips.

"If you knew what was in that book, you'd turn to jelly! It's not meant for worms like you! What did you think you were gonna do with it - sell it to a museum?"

Opening (as all good movie's should) with a little explosion coupled with the sight of a pair of bloody ladies feet sticking out from behind a bush, we're soon following blond-haired good boy Dave (Connell in his only acting role) as he high-tails it thru' a kiddies swing park and onto the highway only to get hit by a driverless car.

Yup, it's gonna be one of those days.

Suddenly we flash-forward a year and a day to find poor Davey boy confined to what looks like the janitors office of a school - no, hang on it's a special ward for mentalists in the local hospital - where ace reporter Sid Sloane (Bienvenido Hermano Andes star Phillips) is preparing to interview Dave for the local papers 'where are they now?' section.

David tho' isn't too keen on talking to anyone, especially when Sloane starts to ask questions about our mental mates rather lady-like crucifix that he refuses to let go of.

The constant badgering culminates in Dave trying to beat the rascally reporter with a baguette so Sloane, obviously not really being arsed with hearing the story first hand, does what any journalist worth their salt would do and retires to the doctor's office to listen instead to a recording made by Dave soon after being admitted.

Anything else he reckons, he can make up.

Anyway, are you sitting comfortably?

Then we'll begin.

"I can see Megan's house from here!"

It transpires that Dave, his pug nosed and square of face buddy Jim (the original Bruce Campbell and later star of WKRP In Cincinnati Boers,Jr.) and their 'hot'  dates; the curvy yet bird mouthed Susan (Hewitt, younger sister of Jennifer and now a Reverend) and bewigged Russian shot-putter Vicki (Christopher possessing the most terrifying arse ever seen on film) have decided to mix business with pleasure by planning to enjoy a mouth watering KFC picnic whilst Dave is away visiting his old college lecturer Dr. Dennis Waterman (believe it or not it is indeed that Fritz Leiber) who is busy conducting some secretive research on an ancient Sumerian book whilst living in a secluded cabin in the  woods.

Hang on, this sounds familiar.

Followed from afar by the mightily mono-browed forest ranger, Terry Asmodeus (director Woods, who later was in charge of the sound department for Xanadu) our freaky foursome soon find Waterman's cabin destroyed before being accosted by an old piss stained tramp living in a cave who hands them a foul smelling ancient book before skipping away giggling like a loon.

A loon, it has to be said wearing the highest waist trousers I have ever seen.

"Hmmmmm.....mooth shite!"

It seems that Waterman, not content with writing the theme tune and singing the theme tune, has started reciting spells and incantations from the ancient book, first conjuring a huge octopus that went on to destroy his house before accidentally causing a rip in the very fabric of space/time.

As one would.

Deciding it would be a waste of food if they didn't finish the picnic before leaving our heroes pop down a blanket and begin scoffing only to be rudely interrupted by Waterman himself, who grabs the book from their chicken greased fingers before running off into the trees.

Giving chase Dave clumsily cracks the poor doctor's head open on a rock but luckily his body vanishes just as Asmodeus appears from nowhere astride a huge horse.

Luckily he's only turned up to ask the boys to pack up their rubbish after the picnic and is soon on his way, riding off in the direction of the laydees who, even with all this bizarre shite going on, have decided to split up to look for 'something'.

Trip trapping along and using his eyebrows as a girl radar, Asmodeus soon comes across Susan (not literally, well not yet) and after dismounting whips out his magical ring and points it suggestively in her general direction.

Susan suddenly faints, giving Asmodeus ample opportunity to climb on top of her and fondle her peachy arse whilst pulling what can only be described as a stroke victims cum face.

"And when I feel frisky I pull THIS face!"

Dribbling stale spittle all over our hypnotised heroine's hosiery as he kneads her milky white breasts with his sweaty sausage fingers, amorous Asmodeus' advances are cut short when he spies her crucifix lying on the grass, causing him to recoil in terror and run away.

Phew.

It's not long before the rest of the gang find a slightly dishevelled Susan, all grass stains and grope marks sitting against a tree but with the boys being boys and Vicki being more interested in her next meal they totally ignore their pals plight and get straight down to trying to explain the plot to each other.

Dave, being the brainy one has figured that some of the drawings in the book (which I must admit are really good for a five year old) can be used as protection from arcane forces and after fashioning a few out of twigs for everyone (except Susan who's got her cross) head off to confront Asmodeus and hopefully find the doctor (or his still warm corpse) along the way.

Yabba dabba don't.

No sooner have they started walking when the stinky tramp appears from the bushes screaming and shouting, hastily followed by a huge testicle cheeked and tusked monster with ginger arm hair.

Which I'll admit was fairly unexpected.

Quickly catching up with the old man, the beast tosses him about like a tiny plasticine model before turning his attentions to our heroes who quickly hide behind a convenient rock.

"Laugh now!"

Jim realising that he's done absolutely fuck all for the last fifty minutes grabs a big twig that's conveniently lying nearby before sharpening the end and sticking it in the beast, killing it stone dead.  

But its corpse, much like Doctor Waterman's, vanishes before their very eyes (son).

Discovering an invisible inter-dimensional door in a clearing (did I not mention it earlier? Sorry) Dave and Jim decide to investigate further only to have their path blocked by a big green acne covered caveman sporting a handlebar moustache.

The dynamic duo have no choice but to fight.

Or in Jim's case get accidentally pulled thru' the space door by it.

Arse.

"Dave I love you....could it be magic?"

Dave, after telling the girls to head back to the car mounts a one man rescue mission into the unknown and quickly - some would say too quickly - finds a sweaty (and suddenly very large eyebrowed) Jim all set to go home as if nothing had happened.

Not only does he seem totally unphased by all these supernatural shenanigans but he also appears to have lost his memory, seeing as he's full of questions regarding the book, Susan's favourite pop group and how Vicki manages to walk with an arse that size etc.

This alerts Dave to the fact that this might not be his pal at all.

And by Jove he's right, it's really Asmodeus - or as we know him, The Devil - in disguise.

The Prince of Darkness politely asks Dave for the book one last time.

Dave, being a hero refuses giving the big D no choice but to transform into his true form; a cycling shorts wearing, hideous rubbery red demon with massive chicken feet and tissue paper wings before vowing to kill the girls, bugger Dave and take the book by force.

Or was that bugger the book, kill Dave and take the girls up the casino?

Either way it's not going to be pleasant.

"It's CCCCCCCCHHHHHRRRRRIIISSSTTTMMMAAASSSS!!!"

True to his word, Asmodeus flies away and promptly kills Vicki before turning his attentions to Susan.

But Dave, feeling kinda wired and armed with a crucifix and neat hair arrives in time to challenge Old Nick to one final battle.

Which seems to consist of Asmodeus shouting a lot and setting fire to stuff whilst Dave and Susan run away.

Until Susan is blasted into oblivion by a well aimed thunderbolt at least.

Dave, having the choice between checking his girlfriend is really dead or legging it to the highway chooses the latter whilst a very angry Asmodeus shouts a warning to our hero that he  will die in exactly a year and a day from this point.

Which is spookily where we came in.

Back at the hospital neither the Sloane nor any of the doctors believe any of Dave's story, preferring to imagine that he bludgeoned everyone to death with the KFC bucket before attempting to run himself over, even going as far as laughing amongst themselves when our reporter chum realises that he's 'accidentally' taken Dave's crucifix.

Making his farewells a smug as fuck Sloane is about to leave the hospital when he bumps into a fairly attractive young blonde in an old ladies suit.

Unknown to him the blonde is an undead Susan preparing to fulfil Asmodeus' prophecy of death.

Originally produced in 1967 by the special FX equivalent of Me Me Me; Dennis Muren, Dave Allen and Jim Danforth, Equinox: A Journey into The Supernatural (as it was then) was a lovingly made home movie love letter to stop motion and scary movies, an amateurish yet amiable enough way to spend seventy odd minutes.

But little did they know that sound editor extraordinare (and writer of Son Of The Blob) Jack Woods, having a few quid spare, would pick up the movie to allow it the cinema release it so richly deserved.

"Scarper! It's the parkie!"

As is the way with these things, Woods ordered some reshoots, chopped and changed the order of certain scenes and, feeling that what was missing from the film was a central villain so created the role of Asmodeus for the movie.


The self casting was probably due to the director being unable to find anyone convincing enough to play The Devil himself.


Either that or he just fancied thrusting his middle-aged semi against a couple of writhing young girls.

Take your pick.

 Monsta!

 Filling out this already mixed bag of professional actors (OK one professional actor), sixties style hotties and rubbery (thank you) monsters is the unlikely casting of horror writer Fritz Leiber as Waterman and, as the mysterious voice on the tape, sci-fi/horror God Forrest J. Ackerman meaning that not one performance on show is pitched the same way twice.


Other, less educated film types would say that this amateur hour mix of non-acting and vertigo inducing over the top-ness kills the film stone dead before it's even given a chance to begin but I like to think that it adds an almost guerilla style rawness to the proceedings, the performances enhancing the films nightmarish qualities to a point that transcends mere cinema and almost convinces you that what you are watching is somehow real.


Probably.

Worth a looksie if you've ever wondered what The Evil Dead would look Like if it had a budget of twelve quid and access to a rubber octopus, you owe it to yourselves and your family to see this masterpiece.

Look it's out on Criterion so it must be good.

tsuburaya!

Happy 114th Birthday to the Master of Monsters & Father of Ultraman
Eiji Tsuburaya!

toy stories.

Found in an old shoe box in the loft.....the Jurassic Park toy trading cards set.

Well, most of them.

Enjoy.

thought of the day.

homes under the hammer.

Had this recommended to me as the 'surprise shocker of the year'.

Was a wee bit dubious after It Follows and The Babadook and was wary of being burned (well more like totally torched) again.

But my word was I in for a surprise.

And not just because I'd forgotten how hot Barbara Crampton looks when she's shot to fuck.

Crampton: Do you remember the first time?

So just a little review because:

A. I don't want to take the piss cos it's actually dead good.

and

B. I don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen it.

The Arena in reviews good film shocker?

Wonders will never cease.

We Are Still Here (2015).

Dir: Ted Geoghegan.

Cast: Barbara Crampton, Andrew Sensenig, Larry Fessenden, Lisa Marie, Marvin Patterson, Susan Gibney and Monte Markham.

"It's been 30 years since we had fresh souls in the Dagmar house..."

After their son Bobby is killed in a car accident, grieving parents Paul (the fantastic Sensenig, coming across like the love child of David Morse and Michael Moriarty) and Anne (Re-Animator cutey Crampton) have decided to start a new life buying a ramshackle old house on the outskirts of a small town in New England. 

I say outskirts but it's so remote it practically has it's own atmosphere - one of dread obviously - nestled as it is in a wonderfully creepy snowy landscape not seen (or shot so beautifully) since the should be more famous shocker Donner Pass.

As is the way in such movies (especially ones with such a short running time) Anne almost immediately begins to feel her son's presence in the house.

And I don't mean the ones she purchased in the January sales and put away for Christmas.

"Now how am I gonna explain THIS to my gran?"

Settling down to a lazy night with the photo albums after a busy day unpacking our cried-out couples plans are soon interrupted by the arrival of next door neighbour Dave McCabe (the always watchable Markham) and his oh-so slightly fruit loops wife Maddie (Gibney) who appear to have only turned up to impart information regarding the house's horrible history to its new occupants.

Oh yes, and us too.

As the bumps and trumps continue, the majority emanating from the uncomfortably hot - and spookily lit - basement, Anne becomes even more convinced that her son is trying to communicate from the other side but Paul, being a realist is sure it's something to do with the boiler and quickly phones heating engineer extraordinaire Joe (or Joe the Electrician as he's known to his friends) to look into it.

Not literally mind as he would possibly fall in and drowned or burn his face if it had been left on.

At the very least the steam would fog up his glasses.

If he wore glasses that is, which I doubt seeing as Marvin Patterson (in his first screen role) who plays Joe doesn't appear to wear any in the movie.

Tho' I don't know about in real life.

But I digress.

Oohing and aahing about the work as he waits patiently for the first of many cups of tea Joe is intrigued by a huge hole in the wall that seems to belch out the smell (but not the smoke) usually found around the back of kebab shops but his investigation is cut short when the lights go out and a shadowy, blackened figure jumps on his from the dark and scarily burns his arm via the power of touch.

Which I can safely assume isn't covered by the insurance.

Or was even mentioned by the estate agent.

What would Martin and Lucy say?

"Bodies in the cellar?....Brick 'em up and turn it into a selling feature!"

Wanting answers to the supernatural shenanigans at work in the house Anne calls her hippy-dippy psychic pals - and parents of her son's best buddie -  

Jacob (producer/writer/director Fessenden channelling WKRP in Cincinnati's Johnny Fever) and May (Lisa Marie) and invites them along for a fun weekend of wine, waffles and maybe even a seance or two.

What could possibly go wrong? 

"Shite in mah....oh, it appears you already have."

From the shiny headed mind of the man who gave us The International Playboys' finest 33 minutes comes a loving tribute to 80's horror that actually works on more than just a basic 'Look! Carpenter was cool' homage level.

David Robert Mitchell please take note.

Cribbing (OK, paying homage to) everything from Fulci's House By The Cemetery and Carpenter's The Fog via producers Malik, Hamza and Badie Ali's previous home-based horror House of The Devil and just like that latter day classic all this familiarity doesn't breed contempt but instead breeds a hauntingly effective atmosphere topped of with some genuine jumps and a surprising amount of over the top gore.

And best of all We Are Still Here is one of the few new horrors that is properly - and unapologetically - old school scary.

 MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTH!

Performance wise the film can't be faulted (OK it can be....stand up Lisa Marie and a handful of townsfolk extras but I'm too nice to mention it) but frankly I'd forgive Geoghegan anything if he gives us another film even half as entertaining as this.

And for every unsure extra you have a top notch turn from the likes of  the truly terrific Monte Markham, the lovably loony Larry Fessenden and the true star of the piece Andrew Sensenig, an actor who takes a character that in the wrong hands could come across as an awful audience-cypher but in this case is imbued with such warmth and humanity that I found myself wanting the enter the movie and drive him to safety myself.

If there was an Oscar for nicest screen hubbie he'd win hands down.

Plus his choice in knitwear was top notch.

Andrew Sensenig: No crap captions just loadsa love.

Straight, sharp and to the point, We Are Still Here is a simple yet stylish reminder of what a real horror movie should be.

Recommended.

A lot.

Just please Ted, don't fuck up with your next movie or I'll look a right arse.

it's not just the water that's dirty....

As readers with long memories - and short skirts - may realise I often like to come back to the Zombie Lake review and update it periodically as an excuse to rewatch what is possibly my all-time favourite water-based undead Nazi movie (even more so than Shock Waves) so don't expect me to be too critical of this unsung masterpiece of the macabre cos it's abso-fucking-lutely brilliant.

If you don't believe me then you're a fool.

And that's a fact.

Now that's out of the way let's start as we mean to go on.....with a wee bit of gratuitous nudity.

 Beware! Zombie Lake!

Are you sitting comfortably?

So let us begin...

Zombie(s) Lake (AKA Le Lac Des Morts Vivants, 1981)
Dir: Jean Rollin and/or Jess Franco (as J.A. Lazer)
Cast: Howard Vernon, Annouchka, Rene Douglas, Alain Petit, some zombies and a lake.

Welcome to 1970's exploitation Europe and an oh-so-slightly scummy lake somewhere in France, the sun is glistening over the discarded condoms, fag boxes and pop cans as an incredibly buxom beauty is frolicking thru' the trees and gaily throwing her clothes behind her.

Stripped naked and enjoying the sun (unless you're watching the 80's UK 'Modern Films' Betamax edition where she's sporting big grey granny pants) she suddenly notices a 'danger' sign near the waters edge.

Tossing it aside she dives into the welcoming waters of the lake.

Little does she realise that it is, in fact, a lake of death.

Or more correctly a lake of zombies.

A 'zombie lake' if you will.

Swimming fun - death (or at the
very least a huge dose of the shits) to follow.

Sexily splashing away to a frankly fantastic Europorn organ soundtrack and making sure to keep her ample breasts in shot at all times, our wet 'n' wild wench doesn't notice the shadowy figures lurking just below the surface.

Well she wouldn't would she, seeing as all those shadowy figure bits have been filmed miles away and weeks later at a disused public swimming baths.

Anyway, back to the action where without warning - unless you count the sudden burst of 'spooky' organ music that is - a green hand grabs for the girls leg and pulls her below the surface to her doom.

Which is quite scary if I'm honest, tho' not as scary as the loud pops and scratches that constitute a smooth transition to the next scene which appears to be made up of someone's holiday Super 8's of a quaint (if not a little seedy) public house somewhere in Normandy.

Most probably the town of Domfront* if I'm not mistaken.

Inside this marvellous example of early 19th century Orne architecture another, totally different buxom lady (she's blonde for one thing) is serving huge jugs (snigger) of beer to the locals who are busy eating snails and gossiping about the sheer amount of young girls who go missing near the local lake.

"She probably met some young stud eh?" remarks Claude, the big burly Brian Blessed alike as his drips piss weak French lager down his plaid shirt.

His rat-like companions twirl their moustaches in agreement before deciding to go see the Mayor if she hasn't shown up by closing time.

I mean come on, those tables aren't going to clean themselves.

Domfront: Local.

Morning dawns and the Mayor (who it appears is played by Ren Hoek from The Ren and Stimpy Show) is rudely awakened from his garlic fuelled fantasies by Claude and his chums loudly banging on his door.

It seems that after much frantic searching there's been no sign of the girl except her discarded clothes, so Mayor Ren decides to call in the police from the next village - his town being so small that they don't have any of their own.

Meanwhile, out near the (zombie) lake another busty young woman is busily spending her day pushing a milk churn in a wheelbarrow across a bridge whilst wearing orthopaedic shoes.

Which if I'm honest is reason enough to stay in the EU alone.

Unfortunately she is so deeply involved in her obviously important job that she totally fails to notice the fact that a shadowy green figure is watching her from the lakeside.

A shadowy figure which is revealed to be a one-eyed zombie in a Nazi uniform.

Well I say Nazi uniform but it's really a pair of mouldy Quick-Fit overalls with Swastikas painted on them topped off with a pair of Wellington boots but at least the thought was there.

If not the budget.

The hideous Hun quickly grabs the woman and grapples her to the ground before clumsily exposing her hideous brown bra to the world and finally messily nuzzling her neck.

She screams kicking off her horrendous clogs in the struggle as the zombie dribbles poster paint over her throat in a cacophony of hisses, scratches and pops that suddenly cut to her prone body being laid (but not in that way, tho' I wouldn't put it past the French) on the Mayor's patio by an ever sweatier than earlier Claude.

Check the shoes (and the milk
churn in a wheelbarrow).

"I know how you feel about your daughter," Mayor Ren tells her distraught dad as he shuffles about his daughters corpse desperately trying to cover her big white pants.

Which is nice.

"No son, I ordered semi-skimmed."

As the fumbling father heads off into the bushes for a tearful wank and a garlic frogs leg flavoured Pot Noodle the gathered crowd (all six of them) stand motionless gazing longingly at the Mayor for what seems like an eternity.

Before it gets too uncomfortable tho' there's another cack-handed cut and we're suddenly watching Ren sitting on a bridge, his sinewy wrinkled arms wrapped around two obviously terrified young boys as he slowly drags them ever closer to his quivering, sweat covered lips.

"Is it in yet?"

It turns out that the boys have witnessed something strange near the lake and the Mayor wants all to know all the facts straight from their pretty mouths.

And probably a 'special ' cuddle too.

"Fuck me! It's Jon Pertwee!"

Meanwhile back at the pub ace reporter Janet Ellis (Annouchka) has arrived in town determined to uncover the mystery of the 'ghostly lake' and heads over to Claude's table to pump him for information.

"You call it the Lake of Ghosts." Announces Janet.

Claude grunts, strokes his droopy moustache and lets loose a very eggy fart before realising that this would probably make a better title for the film.

So impressed by Janet's use of words - and her hairy back and arse - he quickly offers to take her up the Mayors house.

Which is sadly not a euphemism for field based barebacking tho' it really should be. 

Once there, Janet wastes no time (OK maybe a minute or so) introducing herself before explaining that she's working on a story regarding the legends of the lake and surrounding area for a local TV show called Zombing About.

Probably.

Ren tells her she's talking bollocks, which she counters by whipping out a huge book detailing the legends of the lake (and other stuff) from her tiny handbag.

"Now I'm intrigued!" a visibly aroused Ren exclaims, rubbing his boney hands together with glee.

His pleasure is soon curtailed when he begins reading thru' the tome tho' deciding that it's too vague to be of any use.

"The book is too out of date to be useful" he cries.

You heard it here first kids, any books not written within the last forty minutes must be obsolete and should therefore be burned. 

Janet, not being an inbred hick, argues that legends and folktales like these are usually based on fact.

"But they are the very stuff of books." Ren cryptically (and nonsensically) replies, before launching into a tale from the heady days of the second world war.....

What your granddad really did during the war.

Thru' the magic of the 'wobbly dissolve' (that's the actual technical term for it, go on check) we're quickly transported back to the 1940's where a crack squad of German soldiers are battling an (unseen) airplane with pellet guns whilst yet another busty blonde stands screaming at the chaos and bloodshed going on just out of shot.

Noticing how the sunlight glistens on her ample breasts, the sexy blond Nazi-boy (is there any other kind?) in charge runs thru' the ensuing explosions to save her, grappling her to the ground as a 'huge' (ahem) bomb goes off.

Later that evening she shows her gratitude by having sex with him in a barn to the strains of romantic choral music.

As morning breaks the lovers prepare to go their separate ways - her to explain to her dad why she's having sex with a Nazi, him to slaughter some more Jews, the disabled etc. - she gives him a huge pendant to remember her by.

Which begs the question who knew they had pound shops in 1940's France?

Anyway, after what seems about 3 days worth of footage of the Nazi's fighting in the snow against (invisible) Russians and driving around aimlessly in a badly painted milk float, Aryan boy returns to the village to find that his 'lady friend' is heavily pregnant.

On discovering this fact - and being a blackclad badboy - he kisses her goodbye and leaves almost immediately to rejoin his jackbooted buddies for a bit more killing.

Cue even more shooting at imaginary foes and driving down deserted country lanes to a slightly sinister soundtrack.

Fear not tho' because before too long - probably due to the rocking motion in the back of the van - the crack troops are all desperate for a toilet break and a quick ciggie.

Just like the audience.

But, unlike the said viewer the soldiers joy is cut short by Claude and his buddies who leap out of the trees and shoot them all dead before dumping their bodies in the local lake.

See? it's all coming together now.

 
"Not the face luv!"

In a case of spooky coincidence - or plot contrivance take your pick - blond boy's squeeze dies at exactly the same moment.

Tho' this may have more to do with the fact that she's giving birth to a ball headed baby than some supernatural quirk of fate.

Janet, unable to hide her disappointment at such a shite story makes her farewells and heads back to the pub with only an evening of cheap drink and the chance of Claude pawing at her underwear with his sweaty sausage fingers for comfort.

Which, if I'm honest sounds a pretty good night.

Meanwhile back at the lake a local all-girl volleyball team have decided to stop for a picnic followed by some nude cavorting to a jaunty Hammond organ score.

As groups of women together are known to do.

Giggling, combing each others hair and throwing a ball around (in glorious boob bouncing close-up) they're all blissfully unaware of the evil lurking nearby.

And I'm not talking about Claude.

A nude volleyball team frolicking in a lake earlier today.

As is always the way in these situations there's usually one person for whom jiggling about in the nude is never enough, so a cry of "Let's all go for a swim in this inviting and zombie-free lake!" is soon heard and the ladies cheerfully dive in for more ball based, giggly fun.

But down below the zombies are on the move.

Not too quickly tho' as they appear to be enjoying the underwater shots of the girls swimming, doing star jumps and kicking their legs wide open as much as we are.

I don't have the words.

The zombies soon remember that this is meant to be a horror film tho' and soon enough decide to attack, fondling the ladies soft thighs as they drag them to their doom at the bottom of the lake.

Luckily one of the team has been sitting on the banks painting her nails so manages to run screaming and wobbling towards the village clad only in a big (and I mean BIG) pair of blue pants.

Claude and his posse are enjoying a quiet beer or three (now there's a surprise) when she bursts into the pub screaming before promptly collapses on their table.

Obviously impressed by the service and totally enamoured by her choice of underwear Claude orders his pals to take her 'up the stairs' (I don't know if this is a particularly French sexual activity but we never see her again) whilst at the same time top 'tecs Spitz and Moran arrive on the scene, stopping by the pub to ask directions to Mayor Ren's residence.

It's all go in this town isn't it?

 
"Waitress! this gammons off!"

Mayor Ren cracks under the good hair/bad hair double act and reveals the full sordid history of the 'Lake of the Damned' and how it's evil has stretched back as far as the middle ages and maybe even earlier.

Tho' probably not as far back as lunchtime tho' because that would be silly.

Spitz and Moran unfortunately think he's talking complete shite and decides to go back to the pub to, um, 'interview' people.

As all this is going down (as the yoof say) our favourite Aryan zombie has taken a break from all the killing and decided to go and visit his now grown up (well 12 year old) daughter.

Surprisingly she takes his re-appearance quite well, seeing as he's now a green skinned, undead beast in a (possibly very damp smelling) German uniform.

The lack of surprise is only equalled by the films lack of logic, I mean it's now the 'modern' (well the 1980's) day, so how come she's not in her early 40's?

Ignoring this vexing plot point they exchange knowing glances and he heads back to the lake.

But what of Europe's greatest detective duo?

Well Spitz and Moran, now bored with getting pissed and annoying the locals elect to go and investigate the disappearance of the basketball team everyone's talking about, especially upon hearing that they were nude.

Heading out to the lake the dynamic duo soon come across an abandoned camper van and piles of ladies clothes.

"Do you think it's foul play?" asks Moran as he wipes his now flaccid member on a discarded t-shirt.

"It beats me," Spitz replies, "There's no clue to what happened." 

Save the bloodstained shoes and claw marks on the benches obviously.


Shrugging at each other in a manner usually reserved for impatient waiters the pair proceed to rifle thru' the team's discarded handbags no doubt in order to pocket lipsticks, blusher etc. to give to their wives.

But as this blatant abuse of police power continues the zombies are slowly rising from their watery graves and preparing to attack killing the detectives.

But this is only the beginning of their lust for vengeance (and lust for blood and possibly big pants too) as the unstoppable zombie horde starts to shuffle towards the village.....

"Where's mah hoosekeepin'?"

Your can't imagine the sheer ecstatic pleasure I feel every time a young film fan inadvertently discovers the joy of Jean Rollin/Jess Franco's infamous no-budget zombie 'epic', directed under the frankly fantastic pseudonym 'J.A. Lazer' and starring Rollin regular, the frighteningly ferret like Howard Vernon, what Zombie Lake lacks in budget, plot, effects, editing, coherent storytelling etc. it more than makes up for with lots of long, lingering nude scenes (not found in the original bulky boxed betamax UK Modern Films release) alongside scenes of such mind numbing bizarreness that you'll be flicking back to make sure you really did see them.

And then just flicking away in general.

Seriously it's that good.

Experience the crew forgetting to turn the lights on till halfway through a scene!

Recoil in horror as Nazi zombies in green emulsion stomp about in a swimming pool!

Swoon as grannie-haired Annouchka sits in the pub with a sweating moustached man!

Go open another bag of crisps as the unnecessary love story subplot (complete with soft focus ‘lurve’ scenes) unfolds in bum numbing detail!

Strain your ears trying to decipher the almost Lynchian dialogue and get a headache attempting to figure out how it relates to the action on screen!

Get slightly uncomfortable as you watch the antics of the nude female basketball team unfold to a cheesy 'europorn' score and much more besides!

Your mum and dad drunk at Christmas.

You know you’re onto a winner when you realize that Rollin was in fact using a completely different script to the one his actors had (he admitted as much in a 1981 interview in Starburst Magazine number 48…go find it out, it’s the special Zombie issue fact fans) meaning that for the majority of the films shoot people were just looking at him blankly as he barked out directions at them.

If only  Jennifer Kent had have had the same problem during The Babadook we might have had a halfway decent movie.

Plus when Jess Franco has dropped out of a project due to it being utter shit you know you're in trouble.

That's not me on the cover BTW....Everyone knows that I was the small boy in Suspiria.

 Usually at this point I spend ages ripping a film apart and making purile jokes at the crews expense but in all honesty I can't do it with Zombie(s) Lake because it's so damn wonderful.

No, really.

Essential Friday night viewing for fans of Eurotrash horror, anyone who thinks they've already seen the worst movie ever or those who really enjoyed 'Bloody Moon'.

Sheer genius.




* Domfront is a very pretty hilltown in the south of Normandy full of ancient ramparts and a quaint old town centre with half timbered houses, an historic church and a breathtaking castle.

There is also a popular - and cheap - market on Friday mornings.

More importantly I was once taken advantage of by an older girl from there named Cécile Fournier in the ZigZag toilets in Birmingham back in 1986 who I then proceeded to follow around for 6 months like a lost puppy.

She eventually gave in and asked me to move to France with her to live on her family farm but being really young and nervous I declined, tho' I've no idea if that's a reason to love Zombie(s) Lake or not.

Answers to the usual email address.

Nuff said.