hammer time.

Day 9 of 31 days of horror.


Don't you people have homes to go to?

Todays choice is cheap, cheerful and shorter than your dad due to the fact that I have things to do later.

Enjoy.

Hammerhead Shark Frenzy (AKA Shark Man, Hammerhead, 2005).
Dir: Michael Oblowitz.
Cast: William Forsythe, Hunter Tylo, Sir Jeffrey of Combs, Elise Muller, Arthur Roberts, G.R. Johnson, Mariya Ignatova and Anton Argirov.

Amelia Lockhart: You're going to impregnate me?

Dr. Preston King: No....

[pointing to the mutant shark man in the tank]

Dr. Preston King: .....he is.

Somewhere on a deserted island (that looks a wee bit like a garden centre forecourt somewhere in Bulgaria where life - and shooting permits - are cheap) mad as a lorry scientist Dr. Preston King (genre king Combs) is desperately trying to find a cure for his son Paul's terminal pancreatic cancer.

Which is fairly cheery I'm sure you'll agree.

As is the way with science-types in this kinda film King decides the best course of action is to use stem cells taken from Hammerhead sharks (?) and merge them with those of his dying son.

Sounds legit.

Unexpectedly shark DNA can, in fact completely cure all known cancer (who knew?) but the downside is that it causes humans to mutate into hideous half man, half shark monsters.

Thank fuck Jenny McCarthy never saw his research papers, it'd give her something else to blame Autism on.

Jenny! What are you doing hen? Don't you know that frolicking around in a warm bath is a major cause of Autism? And rickets.

Feeling that someone should really check up on Dr. Kings wacky experiments - plus realizing that a film consisting of 90 minutes of Combs injecting stuff into a teenagers pert buttocks probably wouldn't appeal to a horror crowd -  a group of his former colleagues, led by eminent fish expert Dr. Tom Reed (William ' the kids school fees are how much?' Forsythe) and including Paul's ex Amelia (The Bold and the Beautiful's Tylo) and for some reason a vacuous blonde bimbette in a flouncy dress and pink jelly shoes (Muller, star of the equally fin-tastic Raging Sharks reviewed elsewhere on this blog, I'd put up a link but think it'd be more exciting for you to try and find it yourself) named Jane decide to make a surprise visit to his island lair for chat, tea and cakes.

Yum.

Upon arrival they are horrified (I say horrified but it's more like mild indifference) to discover not only the mutant hammerhead shark man but a dingy lab stuffed full of half-naked, oily women strapped to tables and shelf upon shelf of pickled shark hybrid fetuses.

Which is nice.

Deciding to give King the benefit of the doubt (but not getting him to remove his coat indoors so he'll get the benefit of the warmth) our merry band ask the scatty scientist to explain what's going on.

Adjusting his spectacles and King announces that he really wants a grandson (makes sense) and it appears that he'll stop at nothing to finally hear the pitter-patter of tiny fins around his laboratory.

Trouble is that shark-mans foreplay technique appears to consist of biting chunks out of his dates.

Artificial insemination wont work either as shark-man can't really reach his own penis with his stumpy claw arms and his dad (understandably) will only do so much for him.

But now that Paul's lost love  Amelia has turned up King decides on another course of action that involves drowning the rest of the party in his handy water tank before re-introducing his son to Amelia for a candle lit meal, followed by some wine and - hopefully - culminating in a wee bit of slap and tickle.

With maybe an optional bit of biting.

Sounds like a pretty average date growing up in the midlands if I'm honest.

"Hello French Polishers? You may just be able to save my life....tho' not my career!"

Taking a moment to think it over our motley crew instead decide to make a break for it, escaping down a handy overflow pipe and into the dense jungle - well, the local park - surrounding the complex.

Unfortunately they've failed to take into account that the sneaky scientist has his own private army on standby for just such a situation.

But that's not the only problem our heroes have to face for it appears that Paul is out for a stroll (paddle?) and is hungry for blood.

And maybe, just maybe a wee bit of fish on femme action.

Dirty boy.

One by one, the cast of has beens, wannabes and ne'er do wells are slaughtered by sharky; first to go is King's assistant Julie (Bulgaria's Got Talent host Ignatova - no really), messily eating her whole (no he didn't spit that bit out).

But Paul is still hungry, violently lunching out on a fat lab assistant before scoffing Jane.


Which frankly is a mercy killing.

Leaf me alone.....Elise Muller prepares for a fucking good rooting.

After another couple of chases, near misses and vicious attacks, the Doc persuades sharky to return to his paddling pool for a special treat.

It appears that he's managed to trap the ex in a shed.

Which if nothing else would make a great title for a new Channel 4 show.

Bulgaria may have talent but it also appears to have a distinct lack of chairs. And underpants.

Stripped to her - admittedly very nice - undies and covered in baby oil, Amelia can only watch in horror as King lights some candles, pops on a Barry White CD and straps her to a table in readiness for some saucy shark sex.

Laugh now!

Will William Forsythe arrive armed to the teeth to take out the randy fish before it has chance to show poor Miss Lockhart his famous French flipper trick?

Will the cameras catch Combs silently weeping at the realization of what he has to do to pay the mortgage?

Will we ever find out why every single one of the female cast appears to have visited the same plastic surgeon and why they all decided that 'melted market Barbie' was a good look?

Or will sharky triumph?

I drew this.

Quite possibly the best mutant hammerhead shark movie to feature Jeffrey Combs, Hammerhead: Shark Frenzy is a laugh a minute, flirty gore fest of the highest order, teasing it's viewers with promises of rubber monster mayhem, needless nudity, buckets of blood and the exciting prospect of girl on shark action.

Obviously it doesn't really deliver (especially not on the girl on guppy girating) but it did inspire me to do some quick sketches afterwards that I'm happy to share.

Sorry, I have my woman's period.

Plus somebody must have been impressed otherwise how do you explain director Michael Oblowitz's stratospheric rise to fame, I mean why else was he picked to direct 2008's most important movie, the fantastic Romantic Resorts, a beautiful documentary focusing on America's five most romantic destinations for lovers, weddings, honeymoons and anniversaries?

And don't forget he also gave us - whether we wanted it or not - the Billy Zane/Rumor Willis shocker The Ganzfeld Haunting, something of which we should be eternally grateful.

If only for giving us the sight of Taylor (WEAPONiZED) Cole drunkenly snogging Rumor Willis on a comfy sofa.

Can you smell petrol?

Talking of which, if you ever find yourself drunk on a sofa - alongside either Willis or Cole -  you could do much worse than watch this.

 Jeffrey Combs is, as always infinitely watchable and the shark-man costume is a rubbery (thank you) delight to behold - being far more realistic than the silicon and plastic form of Hunter Tylo if I'm honest, add to the mix a veritable art store shelf of paper thin non actors (with the exception of William - my alimony payments have hiked - Forsythe) and a bevvy of oiled ladies and you have the perfect Friday night film.

Especially if you're a tragic and lonely single guy in his 30's and your mom and dad have gone away for the weekend.

Which is probably most of the folk reading this.

Yes indeed I know deep down that it's utter shit, but it's top quality shit and that's all that matters.

Tomorrow.....something halfway decent.

I promise.

who ya gonna call?

Still slogging away at this 31 days of horror thing pretending that this is a real blog that people actually read.

But just to shake things up a wee bit I'll start todays offering with a little bit of history.

Remember that movie with Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson and Harold Ramis where they went around fighting ghosts?

Remember when they remade it with a female cast and nobody complained?

No?

Well then you mustn't have seen....

High School Ghosthustlers (AKA Haisukûru gôsutobasutâzu,1995).
Dir: Yoshinori Nishikioro.
Cast: Yuko Kitamura, Senna Matsuda, Yuka Nakamori, Daikichi Sugawara and  Minami Kurihara.

It's just an ordinary day in downtown Japan and students at the seemingly ordinary Ronresrie high school in Japan are busying themselves with serious study type stuff and the like.

All that is except for three oddball friends; Kyoko (the button-nosed Matsuda best known for Aoi hanabi and posing in a swimsuit), Mayu (big-faced beauty Kitamura best known as the voice of Sofia in Kaitei Daisensou: Ai no 20.000 Miles) and Emi (pant flashing photostar Nakamori), who are spending every waking minute - much to their teachers chagrin - setting up the school's very first Supernatural Phenomenon Research Club.

Which is kinda lucky really seeing as within minutes of then sticking the club sign of a noticeboard the school is suddenly being plagued by a string of bizarre suicides and spooky piano music after dark.

Nothing like getting straight into the action.


Especially when the films running time is just shy of 70 minutes.

Who you gonna call? Childline possibly.

So could the school really be haunted?

The club's faculty adviser, the terrifyingly eyebrowed Mr. Terry Shimada (TeeVee stalwart Sugawara) seems to think so and asks the girls to investigate.

Which seems a wee bit odd and even a little foolhardy until you think about it, it's probably a wee bit easier and a hell of a lot less embarrassing getting the kids to look into it than trying to persuade the police that there are ghosts involved (from my numerous run ins with the police in Tokyo they'd most likely pat him on the head and tell him it was rats) plus lets be honest, if any of the girls die during the investigation Shimada can always say it was just another suicide.


You have to hand it to him, the guys smart.


Our cute trio jump at the chance and immediately offer to mount (snigger) a midnight 'vigil' at the school and later that night, armed only with their home-made ghost hunting backpacks and a Hello Kitty torch sneak away from home and into the school gym.

Cue 10 minutes of short-skirted, pant flashing japes as our tween trio stumble around in the dark jumping occasionally when the mistake a shadow for a monster.

Comedy gold I'm sure you'll agree.

Realizing by this point that the audience may be losing the will to live waiting for some bona fide ghost action the 'spooky' music mentioned earlier suddenly begins to play, causing the girls to shiver and shake in their barely fitting (and fairly flimsy) school shirts.

Which is nice.

Not to worry tho' as it's just grounds-keeper Shimada, the schools Scottish  janitor practicing his Chopin after dark so as not to disturb anyone.

Phew!

No ghosts, ghouls, kestrels or hockey clad maniacs here then.

Or are there?

Inside Stuart Hall's mind.

Just as the disappointed darlings are about to leave the school, the janitor - now clad in a pound shop hockey mask no less - comes searching for the trio.

It appears he's been a very bad lad, forcing himself on the girls at the school before using his hypnotic powers to persuade them to commit suicide in order to cover his tracks.

You never got this in Grange Hill.

Which is a shame because as a kid I actually wrote a storyline where the lovely Georgina Hayes (Samantha Lewis - like you needed reminding) was haunted by the spirit of Danny 'Deadpool' Kendall that culminated in an ectoplasmic undead orgy during sports day.

The production team never answered my letter.*

Do you remember the first time?

Apart from the mask, any resemblance to a certain Mr Voorhees is soon laid to rest when the girls easily beat the jailbait jiggling jannie into submission before calling the relevant authorities.

Which is kinda worrying that Japan has an entire police department dedicated to catching hypno-eyed pedo janitors.

Tho' it does kinda explain why my Uncle Rob turned down a job there.

After a nice cup of hot chocolate and a few hours sleep the girls return to school the next day to a heroes welcome from the very grateful Mr. Shimada who, it transpires has another job for them.

Yikes, it's turned into a teenage Charlie's Angels but with starchier underwear and slightly more believable plots.

Talking of plots let's get back to this one where it seems that he kids over at the rival Onin high school have been playing about with Ouija boards causing the sailor suited female students to suddenly drift into deep trances and shed their uniforms.

Mr. Shimada has an ulterior motive for wanting the girls help tho', he is madly in love with the bookish Miss Yuki (the glass-eyed Kurihara in her only film role), a teacher at the school.

Shimada hopes that if the team can stop the supernatural stripping that it will impress her enough to allow him to take her to dinner.

See? It's not all saucy spectral shenanigans - there's a human interest story too.

The girls eagerly agree to help and, after watching a few of the (more attractive) students spookily undress - whilst writhing around and shouting "mwaaaaaaaah" obviously - for a while announce that the school is suffering from 'bad feng shui', which Emi decides to rectify with a quick exorcism.

Cased closed.

 or is it?

Well there is half an hour left and none of the main cast had shed any clothes yet so what do you think?

On closer inspection Emi discovers that whatever demons possesses the school - and it's nearly naked pupils - is refusing to leave without a (very sticky and tentacle based) fight and is already hatching a diabolical plan to stop the girls.

Or at least come up with a scenario that will have them stripped to their undies and covered in KY jelly whilst wriggling about clutching some hastily painted hose pipes in a vain attempt to suggest that they're being molested by monsters.

If nothing else you have to admire their dedication.

I wouldn't want one of them swimming up my arse....then again...

As the girls attempt to head back to their school in order to formulate a defense, poor Yuki (remember her?), overcome with fear rushes to the toilet for a big wee where she is unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you feel about - PG friendly -  hentai) attacked by scary mind controlling slugs.

Tho' how they manage to take over her brain by crawling up her leg and under her skirt rather than in her ear is a mystery I still can't fathom.

Must be a teacher thing.

Approaching the school gates our haunting-hating heroines alongside the lovelorn Shimada are accosted by a decidedly much less librarian-like Yuki (now looking like a bad Belinda Carlisle drag act) who, with only a flutter of her eyelashes and a tease of ankle manages to convince Shimada that there are no ghosts in the school and the stripping/tripping girls thing was just rehearsals for the Christmas panto.

Sounds legit.

"Aye Shimada I forgot to say, it's the weans nude day today!"

She then seductively whispers that she needs to talk to him in private.


Ding dong.

Rather than wait around for him to come back the girls decide that seeing as they've got a free couple of hours plus all their hi-tech ghostbusting gear with them that'd it'd probably be in their best interests if they had a wee poke around anyway and to this end Mayu breaks out the patented 'annoyingly high-pitched, no really if it doesn't stop I'm putting my foot thru' the screen' ghost detector, a device that appears to serve no purpose other than keep the viewer awake long enough to see the next slimy thing crawls into a ladies secret garden scene.

Which, don't worry, will be along shortly.

But first Kyoko and Emi have a toilet full of horny horror slugs to deal with.

With Mayu keeping watch (well she does have the biggest face and by default the largest eyes) the dynamic duo get down to kicking some slug arse - tho' to be honest I'm not too sure if slugs have arses).

Everything is going swimmingly (sluggily?) until one of the wee blighters sneakily makes its way into Mayu's undies transforming her from a studious student of the supernatural to a raving lesbian saucepot in a matter of seconds.

But that's not all as now our baw-faced beauty is intent on having 'the sex' with Kyoko and Emi.

Whether they like it or not.

Luckily Emi has hitherto unmentioned psychic powers and is able to see the sex starved spirit possessing her friend and therefore exorcise it before Emi sheds  too many clothes.

Damn.

"Is it in yet?"

Regrouping (and redressing) the girls are startled by a strange moaning noise that appear to be coming from the gymnasium and rush to investigate, finding, to their horror  - and possibly disgust -  a naked Mr. Shimada being violently ridden by the possessed Yuki.

But worse than that, Emi can see that the once mousy teacher is actually possessed by the ghost of a hugely obese sweaty old man.

Just go with it, it's much easier trust me.

Emi attempts another exorcism but the fat man is too strong, turning her spooky powers against her before possessing both Kyoko and Mayu.

Don't worry too much tho' as before he can psychically debase our delectable duo who should turn up but Emi's dad.

And guess what?

He just happens to be a professional exorcist.

Lucky eh?

Using his knowledge of the dark arts - alongside a feather on a stick - he rescues the trio and leads them to safety.

What a guy.

Just a pity he couldn't be a few minutes later tho'.

Can you tell me what it is yet?

It appears that Emi's dad has made an interesting discovery, Onin High is actually built on a former red light district famously frequented by  Mr. Bunbei "ten girls a day" Echigoya; a fat sweaty old man who famously died under a prostitute.

Unfortunately he died before 'his ship had set sail' so to speak and his frustrated ghost had become a magnet for every other sex-starved spirit in the afterlife.

And now these spirits are lose, accidentally released by Emi when she attempted to exorcise the school earlier.

With the evil power gaining strength thru' the possessed pupils orgasms (and the remaining slug transforming into a 6 ft tentacled cock creature) will the girls alongside Emi's dad  be able to defeat the horny horrors of Onin high and save the soul (not to mention the honour) of Ms. Yuki?

Well there's only about 12 minutes left so they better be quick about it.

Suited and booted for battle - in, I kid you not camouflage bikinis and some streamers on a stick -  and armed with ghost sucking vacuum cleaners the girls charge into the school and begin to attack the fat mans ghost army, battling their way to the roof in order to confront Mr. Bunbei and end his randy reign of rudeness.....

You really have to feel for writer/director Yoshinori Nishikioro now seen as a major player in Japanese cinema - his 2002 film The White Ship marked the highest national box-office revenue of all Japanese films screened at independent cinemas in Japan that year - his other movies, including Heart of the Sea (2003), Miracle Banana (2006) and RAILWAYS (2010) are celebrated for his warm and detailed depictions of everyday life whilst his heart-warming Aomori-set family drama WASAO (also 2010), the tale of a “busakawa-ken” and its relationship with the townsfolk around him saw him hailed as Japan's Steven Spielberg.

Mysteriously tho' if you check his official website it lists his directorial debut as the 1996 film Baguzu.

You remember Baguza don't you?

It starred Gô Awazu as a fisherman.

If not you really should search it out because it's actually very good.

But I digress.

"Fiona! Where's mah lunch?"

So why would he lie about his first film?

Is he not proud of the first - and best - gender swapping supernatural comedy?

Or did the evil empire that is Sony cruelly threaten him with legal action and/or violence if he didn't destroy every copy save it make their 2016 reboot look bad?

You decide.

Saying that I've read somewhere that he was frankly mortified to be associated with a straight to video paranormal perv-fest that objectifies girls in school uniforms as masturbation fodder whose only reason for being onscreen is to be defiled by poorly built tentacles and clockwork slugs?

Nah, that's ludicrous.

Dr. Jillian Holtzmann. Just because.

If there's anything for Nishikioro to be embarrassed by it's the fact that despite it being an excuse to indulge the (go on the mainly male) audiences schoolgirl fetishes whilst showcasing a good few pervy tentacle scenes for good measure, he somehow managed to make the film into a - fairly - family friendly comedy that is not only at times actually funny but also manages to be surprisingly not that offensive.

Plus it's lit well and looks nice  - Ye gads, i'm discussing the production/shooting values of a Japanese VOD movie - which is a pleasant change from the usual crap (sorry, undiscovered gems) I watch.

And let's be honest the ghosts on show here are actually a wee bit more impressive than those in Ghostbusters '16 plus the genuinely sinister Bunbei Echigoya pisses over Neil Casey's embarrassingly bland Rowan North.

If only Paul Feig had used this as the basis for his all-girl reboot we'd be here hailing it as a comedy classic rather than a so-so played safe reboot attempting to bask in audience awareness of a much-loved brand whilst attempting to alienate it's core fan group**.

Plus the thought of Kate McKinnon proton-packing a load of CGI monster cocks whilst dancing to DeBarge is something modern cinema needs.

Recommended to anyone who likes a good old fashioned Carry On/St. Trinians style British comedy.
Albeit one with added slimy cock monsters and tentacles.

Which if I'm honest is most of the folk reading.























*They did answer my submission to Eastenders tho' here's the proof alongside my storyline.

Enjoy.

**And before anyone starts sending me death threats - it's not unusual - I actually really enjoyed the Ghostbusters reboot.

So there.

sexy (blood) beast.

31 days of horror day 7 and I'm onto the good stuff.

It's quality all the way from this point on.

Brides of Blood (AKA Brides of Blood Island, Grave Desires, Terror on Blood Island 1968).
Dir: Eddie Romero, Gerardo De Leon.
Cast: Beverly Hills, John Ashley, Kent Taylor, Mario Montenegro, Eva Darren and the fantastic Bruno Punzalan.

Lusting for women it terrified the land! Which is also an apt description of your uncle Pete.

Slick haired and snake hipped Peace Corp volunteer Jim Farrell (Filipino fright film fave Ashley) alongside the cut-price Clark Gable-a-like Dr. Paul Henderson (Psycho à Go-Go's Taylor) and his wife, the classy chassised bleached bimbette Carla (Beverly Hills...not her real name) are traveling to the spookily named "Blood Island" for a six-month stay.

But why would they do such a thing? I hear you ask.

Well, Henderson is heading there to study the effects of atomic testing on local flora and fauna (as you do) whilst Farrell's going to build stuff for the natives (and hopefully score with a few of the grass skirted sex kitens that live there).

And Carla?

Well she's accompanying her hubbie in order to show off her arse in in a variety of Capri Pants three sizes too small.

Just like your mum when she goes to Spain with her mates.

Your Auntie Jean, up the casino, Brighton, 1967....YESCH.

Upon arrival our heroic trio are surprised to find the usually friendly locals glumly carrying a couple of dead bodies towards the beach, which either means a burial at sea or they've gone to the wrong island and stumbled across Joe D'Amato filming another of his cannibal porn epics.

There's no time to check tho' as one of the body-bearers trips, dropping a cloth covered corpse onto the ground with a rubbery thud and our merry trio are shocked to see that the body has been literally torn to pieces.

Well I say shocked but Ashley - with his cinematic back catalogue -  is kinda used to this sort of thing by now and dear old Beverley is too busy concentrating on walking and talking at the same time to notice.

God bless Kent Taylor tho', who gives it his all, twitching and grimacing exactly like your dad at the point of climax.

Trust me I know. 

Luckily Frank Arcadio the English speaking, tea cosy hatted tribal leader (and buddy to Henderson) is on hand to helpfully explain that the two girls were involved in an "accident" and that there's really nowt to worry about.

Especially not radioactive monsters.

No sir.

Before anyone can ask any awkward questions Arcadio mentions that he's prepared a slap up meal of crisp sandwiches and fizzy pop back at his hut so our trio, hungry from all that traveling and corpse gazing excitedly follow him home.

Everything is going swimmingly (if a little stilted tho' that could just be the acting) until Arcadio - handing out fun size Twix's for dessert whispers in a hushed tone that things are a wee bit mental on the island at the moment and, for their own safety that they should really leave.

Right now if not sooner.

Dr. Henderson looks on concerned and nods thoughtfully but Jim is otherwise engaged as he gazes longingly at Arcadio's beautiful granddaughter Alma (the dusky beauty that is Eva Darren, currently doing Stirling work as Thelma in the hit TeeVee soap Magpakailanman) whilst sweating like Jimmy Savile opening a girl guides camp.

Eva: Not green.

Ignoring Arcadio's warning the group head off to bed with Henderson particularly excited about beginning his research the next morning much to his wife's chagrin who decides to sit up all night smoking whilst seductively flashing her ankles at any tribesfolk who wander by.

Jim by this point is already in his tent, searching his backpack for tissues and a Pot Noodle.

As dawn breaks Henderson is already up and about searching for samples in the jungle whilst a bored looking Carla lies wistfully against a tree, her frankly terrifying breasts pointing skywards like silk covered weapons of mass distraction, her scarily pointed bra barely holding their awesome power in check.

The beauty of her surroundings seems to have a calming effect on Carla tho' as she decides that rather than attempting to seduce the locals she'll try to rekindle the Doctor's love for her and to this end starts poking around in the bush for something nice to give him as a present.

It says a lot about Carla that she decides that a massive mutated land crab would make a perfect romantic gift and excitedly hands it to her hubbie.

Rather than trying to shag it as she has everything else that moves.

Giving it a quick once over he decides that the creature is irrefutable evidence that radiation has affected the island.

Hmmmm....you think so?

With the (stock footage and filtered) sun setting, the Henderson's return to the village (with the crab in a shoe box) only to stumble across what appears to be the tribes own version of the National Lottery draw, except this one features purple smoke, drums and a couple of scantily clad laydees crying in a corner.

Which actually sounds pretty exciting.


Well it'd make me consider buying a ticket.

Inside John Leslie's mind.

With some poor old guy from the local unemployed group dragged up like Mystic Meg he totters about on a pair of homemade Cha-Cha heels for what seems like an eternity before angrily pointing none too happy native girls and gesturing to a couple of hunky, spear wielding warrior types to carry them off into the jungle.

Our dynamic duo (with Jim close behind -he can obviously smell distressed female from a mile away) give chase but before they can catch up with the procession they are accosted by the bald, cod-eyed Goro (Black Mama White Mama's Punzalan), servant of the enigmatic Mr. Esteban Powers (Mario Montenegro), owner of the islands only brick house and winner of the Butlins Skegness Dezi Arnez look-a-like competition a record breaking 5 times between 1955 and 1961.

It appears that Goro has been skulking about in the trees since they arrived on the island in the hope that they'll accept Mr. Powers invite of dinner and offer to use of his estate for the duration of their stay.

Which sounds as good a reason as any for hiding behind a bush watching scantily clad babes being carried away screaming, so the party (totally forgetting about the sobbing girls as soon as free food is mentioned) accept heartily.

Dominic Littlewood goes undercover as a genie to report on dangerous garden centres and terrifying things.

Arriving at Powers' estate (after a slight fright involving a killer bush...yes really) the Henderson's and big Jim fail to notice (but not me, oh no sir) that not only is the entire house staff made up of dwarves, scurrying and leaping around the kitchens whilst Goro chases down then whips them but also that Powers has the face (and firm tight buttocks) of a 12 year old even those he alleges he's over 50.

To be fair tho' they're probably distracted by the fact that the promised slap up meal actually appears a plate of huge green bananas and jugs of weak piss.

Good to see they have their priorities right.

Making the most of a bad situation (and even worse script) our heroes tuck into dinner, enjoying Goro's dwarf baiting in between Dr. Henderson tediously giving everyone a lecture on the effects of atomic radiation whilst using the croissants to represent tumors, which is nice.

This may be important to the plot later tho', you never can tell.

Excited at the prospect of staying in a house with real beds and hot and cold running water (as opposed to weeping sores) Carla persuades her husband to let her stay over at Powers' House, he agrees that she can stay but explains that he must return to the village to fetch some 'special equipment'.

Jimbo too needs to stay in the village to 'assist' the new building work so the pair make their farewells and head off once more into the jungle.

Beverly Hills Cop (a feel of these babies).

Heading back to the village, they again cross paths with the sobbing girls, only this time they are both naked and tied to crosses in front of a giant paper mache statue of TeeVee funnyman Phil Cool.

Which if I'm honest is one of the most erotic things I've ever seen committed to celluloid.

Jim and the Doctor look on worriedly as they discuss whether to jump in and free the poor girls or just sit back and enjoy the show.

Luckily that decision is made for them when Arcadio, with the help of his silver tongue and a spear carrying posse turns up, diffusing the situation by explaining that they've just come across the local drama group rehearsing the village Christmas panto before taking the boys back to the village mightily impressed by the bound babes convincing acting.

You'll be surprised to know that Arcadio was in fact lying and that the girls are actually going to be sacrificed to 'The Evil One' an ancient spirit returned to wreak havoc on this idyllic paradise.

Jim and Henderson are barely tucked into bed (separately obviously) when strange Animalistic grunts, groans and farts suddenly begin to fill the air.

Laugh now!

Jim leaps from his sleeping bag and confronts Arcadio about the noise (and the smell) but our bonneted buddy remains tight lipped only saying that the whole thing was probably rats before heading off to his hut but Jim is undeterred, turning his charms on Alma.

Melting under Jim's salacious gaze she's about to spill the beans (and out of her top by the looks of it) but runs away sobbing as soon  as she hears the screams coming from the women in the trees.

Jim tries to follow her but is stopped by Arcadio brandishing his massive weapon, the shiny tip glistening in the moonlight.

Threatening to kill our slick-haired hero if he tries to interfere, Arcadio admits that he may have been a wee bit economical with the truth before breaking down in tears and exclaiming that the infamous 'Evil One' has returned.

Jim, finally realizing that being the only male cast member under 40 (just) he must actually be the films hero and donning his best Hawaiian shirt decides that it's his job to combat the terror threatening the village.

And how does he decide to do this?

By showing the villagers how to build an irrigation system for their fields and smiling seductively at Alma in the hope of getting information regarding the Evil One's plans from her.

And hopefully a wee cuddle too.

Luckily the latter part of the plan works and she tells him how the Evil One's violent urges can only be placated by the sacrifice of young virgin tottie.

But not as food for the beast oh no.

You see the hapless young (and firm) girls are given to him in order to quell his bizarre sexual urges.


Yup, the Evil One literally shags the sacrifices.....

TO DEATH.

"Put it in me!"

Meanwhile after returning to Chez Powers, Henderson is almost certain that Blood Island has been contaminated by atomic radiation from the tests.

No idea what swung it for him....was it the mutant crabs, man eating banana trees, giant killer moths or the horny man beast prowling around the forest?

We can but imagine.

There's a wee bit of good news tho' because it turns out that the resulting mutations are - kinda - reversible and only manifest themselves at night.

There's just one thing bothering Henderson tho' - well two if you count how his missis manages to squeeze into those blue hot-pants at this point of the movie - and that's the fact that the villagers themselves aren't affected by the radiation.

Powers, never one to let tension build,  informs him that they were all brought in as part of the US government’s resettlement program for peoples displaced by the atomic bomb tests.

And he should know, because he was on the island all the time nursing his radioactive wife.

Not to worry tho' the only side effects Powers has ever shown is bouts of migraine and a habit of waking up in his garden covered in blood, egg and semen.

Fuck me....it's Fred Titmus!

Hmmmm, I wonder....Could the nice Mr. Powers really be a sex starved atomic shag-beast?

Will Carla realize before she chases him into the forest (at night) wearing only a seductive Baby Doll nightie?

And will Alma win the island lottery?

Farrell and Henderson have only hours to put the pieces of the puzzle together before more innocent women (and Carla) become BRIDES OF BLOOD.

This second film in the late great Eddie Romero's cult 'Blood' series - co-directed with his long-time partner Gerardo De Leon -  invites viewers on a return journey to the notorious Blood Island made (in)famous in The Mad Doctor of Blood Island for an exciting tale of terror that features equal amounts of brutish beasts and bare breasts - the natives must strip the girls naked to be sacrificed as no doubt the beast can manage to tear them limb from limb but not remove their bra's - much to the delight of the delinquent drive-in crowds it was so obviously aimed at.

'Brides' is a no nonsense shoestring 'B' flick that despite it's low budget, still manages to deliver it's quota of scares and sexiness (take a bow John Ashley) that personifies perfectly this period of Filipino film-making mayhem.

Your wee sister will be OK then.

True, many of the 'effects' sequences are anything other than special (the obviously cardboard 'giant' mutant moth and the killer trees clearly visible strings) but everyone involved never takes the plot as anything less than deadly serious, which makes for a genuinely (at times) creepy film that never fails to entertain.



Plus if you do manage to get bored - tho' how is beyond me - you can always marvel in awe at the amount of highly coiffured hairstyles on show.

What your girlfriend really gets up to when she says she's working late.

The acting is uniformly adequate (with special mention to Kent Taylor as the so stoic he's almost solid granite Dr. Henderson) with the glowing exception of Ms. Beverly Hills.

No doubt cast for reasons other than her thespian skills, she lights up the screen like a large, tacky plastic glitterball from the pound shop every time she appears - her pneumatic breasts and gravity defying arse a true feat of engineering of which engineers everywhere should be forced to study.

My only disappointment is that after shagging and flirting her way thru' most of the male cast she never bothered to get in on with Mr. Powers' dwarf home help.

Oh well.

The shy, wallflower Beverly Hills in a rare non-posed shot.

But what of the films big selling feature?

The nightmarish Evil One?

In a classic case of enthusiasm over budget the beast is a joy to behold, looking as it does like a wart ridden swollen left testicle with chubby arms and legs, pointy cardboard teeth and torches for eyes it exudes menace and animal sexuality in equal doses.

Well it does if you find the thought of a drink sodden tramped up Mr. Blobby with scabs makes you damp with joy.

Just me then?

But fair play to the film makers who, rather than hide this stunning creation in the shadows come straight out and have it take centre stage.

"Not my wanking hand!"

Maybe not the best Filipino shocker ever made but definitely not the worst by a long stretch (that still has to be Super Beast), Brides of Blood is the perfect Friday night thriller.

Especially if like me you have no pals.

they killed kenny.

Had a really unusual day yesterday.

I actually left the house.

And caught a train.

Damn real life getting in the way of this 31 days of horror thing.

Luckily it was nothing like this tho'.

Thank fuck.

Terror Train (1980).
Dir: Roger Spottiswoode.
Cast: Ben Johnson, Jamie Lee Curtis, Derek MacKinnon, DD Winters, Hart Bochner, Howard Busgang, Timothy Webber, Anthony Sherwood, Sandee Currie and David Copperfield.

Have you ever shoveled any coal?

It's New Years Eve 1980 and the students of the Harold Shipman Medical School are enjoying one of those drunken and rowdy fraternity parties that seem to be a constant in this kinda movie.

As ever, the frat leader 'Doc' Manley (Die Hard's Ellis himself, Bochner) has a plan to play an oh so funny jape on the class geek, the bowl haired and sweat stained  Kenny Hampson (MacKinnon, best known for playing a drag queen in
Helene Klodawsky's Family Motel - poor sod), even going as far as coercing his reluctant girlfriend Alana (Curtis, nuff said) to join in.

Ooooh the rotter.

Jamie Lee Curtis catches a glimpse of her future...

The prank, for what it is, involves Alana luring Kenny into a darkened bedroom with the promise of a 'the sex' but as soon as he removes his clothes and jumps on the bed Doc will flick the lights on to reveal not Alana lying waiting for him but an old ladies corpse.

Is it just me that thinks that this wont end well?

You too eh?

Then you wont be surprised to find that poor old Kenny is slightly traumatized by this turn of events and ends up in a psychiatric hospital, dribbling on the pillows and swimming in his own piss.

If that wasn't enough someone stole his coat after the party.

Bastards.

Anyway, jump forward three years and the same folk are about to celebrate their graduation by holding a fancy dress party aboard a train.

A train of terror no doubt.

All of Doc's gang are present, including token comedy Jew Ed (actor turned teevee exec' Busgang), token black guy Jackson (former Airwolf star and forest Sherwood), Alana's best friend (and token blonde) Mitchy (the very hot Currie) as well as Alana's boyfriend Mo (teevee stalwart Webber), ex-Prince prodigy Vanity and Alana herself.

Obviously there are a few more students on board but frankly we're only interested in the fresh meat.

Also along for the ride (well it can't be for the talent) are Carne (ex-President Johnson) the kindly train conductor and top magician Ken Tavalouris (Copperfield, the rat faced magic one not the bloke from Three of A Kind), who's been hired at great expense to entertain the crowd.

What could possibly go wrong?

Apart from the train crashing off the line under the weight of all the clichés obviously.

"Hey! I'm not saying my wife's a whore but she is!" - comedy gold.

Anyway, as you've probably guessed no sooner has the train started it's journey  into the icy wilds than the students responsible for Kenny's incarceration at Shady Nook are murdered one by one with the killer donning the mask and costume of each murder victim in turn.

Kinda like a really mental Mr. Ben.

Just less realistically animatedly.

Thinking about it tho' he can't be that mad seeing as the first person he kills is the uber-annoying Ed, who by this point I felt like pulling thru' the screen and beating him to death myself.

"I'm gonna cut yer throat ya wee fanny!"

Luckily by this point in the proceedings it appears that writer T.Y. Drake has realized how fucking banal and unoriginal the whole thing is and, in a move that makes him look even less confident in the stalk and slash aspect of the movie than the unsuspecting viewer, decides to bolt a totally superfluous subplot about Mo and Alana's romance going sour to the proceedings.

Oh yes and endless scene's of the charisma free zone that is David Copperfield performing increasingly soul destroying sleight-of-hand tricks.

Grim doesn't begin to describe the huge collared rodent-like ones frankly embarrassing attempts to woo Alana with a selection of floating flowers, mind reading bollocks and slightly pervy hand gestures.

I felt dirty after watching his scenes.

Which I ended up re-viewing about six times just to make sure I hadn't imagined them.

Rumour has it that Copperfield is so mortified by his appearance in the movie that he's been known to buy up every copy he can find in order to keep his role in the thing a secret.

Good job then that I'm here to remind him of it.

Tho' saying that I'm willing to sell him my copy if the price is right.

Copperfield's 9/11 tribute act failed to find it's target audience.

Back to the plot and poor Carne is finding dead bodies left, right and centre whilst Alana has just recalled that Kooky Kenny (when not being conned into fucking corpses obviously) loved performing magic tricks, ergo the magician must be the killer.

Who needs Sherlock Holmes?

Or evidence?

This would be all well and good if the man in question hadn't done a disappearing act of his own after a having a wee chat with his very manly (and oh so familiar) female assistant Brenda.

"Now you see it....now you don't!" David Copperfield sums up his illustrious career.

By this point there are about three folk left alive on the train so Alana reckons that with magic Dave out of the picture it'd be a great time to have a nap.

I know how she feels.

But the real killer is still aboard, staring at our heroine whilst hanging upside down outside the train window.

Which must be really uncomfortable.

Anyway he soon gets bored and breaks in, chasing Alana thru' the train for a bit in order to add some excitement to the ensuing finale, stopping only when they arrive in the baggage car for a little bit of character exposition followed by the killer's big identity reveal.

Which, obviously is Kenny so the director builds up the suspense with an alternative guessing game.

Namely which outfit will he be wearing when he finally confesses.

It's like The Clothes Show hosted by Norman Bates.

Or at least Norman Price from Fireman Sam.

Tho' that would probably be a wee bit more exciting.

And realistic.

"Shite in mah mooth!"

Curtis, obviously wanting the whole thing to stop so she can go home and get on with her career (well she has got Halloween 2 and Trading Places to fit in) apologizes profusely to Kenny whilst blaming Doc (remember him?) for the whole thing.

Kenny tho' is having none of it, preferring to force the star of True Lies to kiss him.

On the lips.

Unfortunately Alana's breath isn't at it's freshest and the smell emanating from her pretty mouth is enough to bring all those buried memories of corpse kinkiness to the fore, sending the poor sod spiraling even deeper into insanity.

Girls can have that effect on you kids, especially the pretty ones like the oft mentioned Belinda Maine.

Bizarrely enough it's almost thirty one years to the day since she cruelly snubbed me at the Halloween dance.

But I've not forgotten.

And they all said that you had your mothers eyes.

Not any more.

I have them in a jam jar in the kitchen cupboard.

But I digress.

In the mad confusion of tears, shame and screaming (things like that never leave you) good old Carne rushes to the rescue and beats  Kenny off with a fireman’s shovel before booting him up the arse and out the open door of the baggage car to his death on the ice below.

Ice as cold and hard as the bitch who broke my spirit all those years ago.

But not my capacity for revenge.

Oh no.

Han and Leia: The pikey years.

From the same tax shelter Hell that gave us HG Wells' The Shape of Things To Come (1979) comes part-time producer and full time Canadian Harold Greenberg's answer to Halloween and, um, Prom Night.

His company, the infamous Astral Films was responsible for probably the greatest movies ever to come out of Canada including the boat based Nazi shocker Death Ship (1980) featuring a scenery chewing turn from man-mountain George Kennedy and the sub Irwin Allen disaster flick City on Fire (1979) as well as the nausea inducing documentary cum freak show Being Different (1981).

He did make amends tho' for giving the late great Bob Clarke the chance to direct the tit obsessed coming of age (and just general cumming) movie Porky's (1982) and by default introducing the world to the charms of the fantastic Kim Cattrall. 

For which we are all eternally grateful.

Kim Cattrall: Ask your dad.

Anyway, let's get back to Terror Train (I know but the quicker we do they quicker I can go to bed) and have a rummage thru' the warmed up coals buried within the movies boiler to see if there is anything at all to recommend it as anything other than a complete waste of time and talent.

Well, Roger (Tomorrow Never Dies, Turner and Hooch) Spottiswoode's direction is, erm, adequate tho' any attempt to build a sense of dread or suspense is effectively scuppered by documentary maker Anne Henderson's blunt scissors and wooden fingered approach to editing plus it's hard to care about a cast (or killer) who spend most of the film masked and drunk, tho' under the circumstances the late, great Sandee Currie (later to be seen in the utterly brilliant Curtains) stands out among the cardboard cut-out characters making Mitchy both likable and sexy (in a kinda late seventies way).

Tunnel or funnel?

Plus if you're really bored (and squint at the screen), she does have a remarkable resemblance to Joy Boushel (but not alas Joy Bryant*) from The Fly remake so you can spend the movies quieter bits imagining they're the same character.

Just me then?

Worth a look?

Absolutely, if only to completely catalog Jamie Lee Curtis' ever changing hairstyles.

And worth showing to your pals?

Well yes but only if you want to start a violent feud with them.










*Because as you can see they both have completely different hairstyles.

Boushel.

Bryant.