who?

Today's the day Auntie Beeb announce the new Doctor Who* and there's only one man it can be!

Welcome aboard David Burton!

*And before anyone complains his name is Doctor Who.....look:

people you fancy but shouldn't (part 72).

With Game of Thrones returning this week there's only one person it could be.

By popular demand we give you....

Maisie Williams.

Nuff said.

*Can I just point out that there's been at least one reader requesting this since GoT season one......and to them can I just say please stop messaging me now you sick puppy.

mummy's boy.

Time Walker (AKA Being from Another Planet, 1982).
Dir: Tom Kennedy.
Cast: Ben Murphy, Nina Axelrod, Kevin Brophy, James Karen, Robert Random, Austin Stoker, Darwin Joston, Antoinette Bower, Sam Chew Jr., Clint Young, Shari Belafonte and Jack Olson.

“Well, maybe you’ve found the first civilization to use polyester?”

Somewhere in Egypt (OK I'll be honest it's actually a set left over from Tales of The Gold Monkey and by set I mean empty studio lot with a bit of sand randomly sprinkled over it) the sexily double-denimed science guy Professor Douglas McCadden (Alias Smith And Jones star Murphy) has just come across the tomb of the ancient Egyptian king Tutankhamun.

Unfortunately his excited thigh rubbing at the thought of all that pharaoh gold causes a minor earthquake making one of the tomb walls collapse - well it was only shoddily nailed up balsa wood - revealing a hidden chamber containing  a second mummy in a huge cardboard sarcophagus.
Oh hang on, it's meant to be stone.

Never mind at least they tried.

Tried to make it look utterly shite I mean, obviously the cash went on the top notch cast.

Or at the very least on Shari Belafonte's velor jacket. 

"If you're the mummy.....who's the daddy?"

Knowing that the films meager budget wont extend to any actual shooting outside the US McCadden has the mysterious sarcophagus quickly shipped back to California where hip n' happening science student Peter Sharpe (Brophy - the poor mans Michael Beck, I'll give you a minute to let that sink in) proceeds to x-ray it whilst chewing gum (and the scenery) in a provocative manner much to the chagrin of the Tefal-headed tinker in charge of the universities computers; the enigmatic Jack Parker (TV stalwart Random).

It seems that in his rush to get the x-rays complete Sharpe has accidentally set the machine to 'highly radioactive' as opposed to 'slightly radioactive' meaning that not only will the pictures come out a wee bit blurry but the folk present will all probably drop dead from cancer within a fortnight.

Which is quite possibly a blessing seeing as none of them will be around for the movies premiere.

Heading back to his lab to examine the x-rays, Sharpe notices what looks like five tiny balls arranged around the mummy's head so decides to investigate the sarcophagus himself in the hope that the mysterious objects are something worth selling.

Or at least something that may move the plot along.

Breaking into McCadden's room he skillfully cuts open the sarcophagus with a penknife and finds 5 shiny marbles embedded within.

Sorry I mean mysterious crystals filled with a strange glowing energy.

My mistake.

Quickly re-x-raying (is that even a word?) the mummy to cover his tracks Sharpe fails to notice that the extra dose of radiation has caused a strange green mold inside the sarcophagus to become active and start to spread like an evil coloured butter.

Or low fat spread if you like.

Well at least you can still enjoy a Pot Noodle.

Resealing the sarcophagus Sharpe heads over to the local pawnbrokers in the hope of scoring some ready cash to take his girlfriend out for a slap up meal little realising that it's not just the creepy mold that's moving.

Yes indeed the mummy itself is on the prowl.

With a wipe that would make George Lucas shoot his load we're into the next day where a stressed McCadden is desperately trying to persuade the university president, Wendell Rossmore (Return Of The Living Dead's Karen), to postpone the mummy's unveiling due to the nasty stink caused by the green gunk oozing out of the sarcophagus. 

Rossmore is having none of it tho' but as he excitedly ushers the press in one of McCadden's more forgettable students sticks his finger in the sarcophagus and instantly starts screaming as the gunk starts to rot his hand.

Falling to the grown and writhing in agony (or is it ecstasy?) he accidentally knocks the sarcophagus lid off revealing that its occupant has vanished.

And you know when your main monster can't be arsed appearing onscreen that your film is in big trouble.

"Balls on mah x-ray!" - sorry that was the worst caption ever but if they can't be arsed why should I?

Enter (yes please) Dr. Ken Melrose (the legend that is Stoker) who alongside his sternly school ma'am like colleague Dr. Rita Hayworth (Prom Night's Bower) desperately attempts to identify the spooky green stuff and destroy it before it can infect anyone else.

Is everyone in this movie desperate?

Rossmore being a bit of an arse assumes that the mummy's disappearance is because of a fraternity prank, however his Smithers-like sidekick Dr. Bruce Serrano (Chew Jr) insists that McCadden - alongside Parker - is responsible for the whole thing.

No idea why tho'.

Rossmore, hypnotised by Serrano's slinky hips and tight ass calls on the campus police captain Holly Willoughby (Switchblade Sisters Young) and orders him to track the pair.

Meanwhile  the mummy is busy tracking the whereabouts of the stolen crystals. The crystals, which are - it turns out -  actually complicated components of a space-age transportation device.

Yup, he's not really a mummy but an alien ambassador sent to Earth to buy cakes two thousand years hence who ended up crash landing in Egypt where
Tutankhamun came across his prone body.

Fucking Hell those Egyptians will shag anything.

Mistaking the unconscious alien for the Egyptian God of massive heads (or something), the king and his attendants tried to shake his hand but were all killed by the green slime.

Always looking on the bright side the surviving flunkey's decided to bury them all together in the King's tomb.

Phew, glad that's all sorted, we can get back to more important matters now like watch a bog-roll wrapped stuntman being wheeled around on an out of shot skateboard as he chases various no-name extras around a deserted shopping centre.

"Tonight Matthew I'm going to be Peter Gabriel!"

It's a race against time - and tedium - as our heroes try to find the crystals before the shit-handed horror does seeing as one touch from his mucky member causes instant paralysis and stubborn stains. 

After brutally attacking a single mum student who'd been given one of the crystals as a present Rossmore is forced to call the 'proper' police who send no-nonsense flatfoot Lt. Amanda Plummer (Napoleon Wilson himself Joston) is to investigate and as more students turn up dead or injured, our heroic cop begins to suspect that he's on the trail of a serial killer.

Albeit one covered head to toe in Andrex.

Maybe they should just send a puppy after him?

As is always the way in this kind of movie (and I'd be disappointed if it weren't), the students decide that the best way to deal with the on campus killings is to organise a massive mummy themed frat party and dance badly - to a song called "Mummified" on a constant loop - whilst those who actually possess the crystals end up either babysitting and taking showers in order to up the breast count of the film and help it appeal to sad, lonely teens.

Well seeing as I first saw this as a 12 year old it must have worked.

As Plummer conducts his investigation, McCadden and Parker track the stolen crystals back to Sharpe, who admits to everything before giving them the  crystal he was keeping for himself.

Realising that the final crystal is currently in the hands of a student he's shagging (Motel Hell's Axelrod), McCadden races to the library in the hope of saving her from a sticky end only arriving in time to see her plummet from the roof.

Luckily she's only bruised so our hero wastes no time in getting on with the job at hand which right now involves investigating why the campus computer systems are showing sporadic energy drains in the large broom cupboard behind the girls toilets.

Fuck me Hanson have let themselves go.

As the movie lurches drunkenly toward its climax, McCadden, Parker, Rossmore, Serrano and Willoughby all descend on the cupboard at the same time and after a bit of pushing and shoving are fairly surprised to see the mummy standing over what looks like a novelty pie dish fiddling with some small balls.

Like some kind of intergalactic naughts and crosses he gently places them in a certain order (being careful not to break the flimsy prop) before activating the device causing his mummy wrappings disintegrate and revealing his true form.

That of a fairly camp skinny bloke in a pound shop alien mask.

Takes all sorts.

Realising that the creature actually doesn't mean any harm and just wants to go home McCadden and Parker smile waving at it as it prepares to leave, Serrano tho' has other ideas and orders Willoughby to shoot the creature.

The rotter.

Being the hero tho' McCadden throws himself in front of the bullet in order to protect the alien and falls to the ground injured.

As the pair gaze lovingly into each others eyes the alien holds his (scarily lady-like) hand out to the professor who eagerly takes it.

Tho' not up the arse I'm told.

As the starstruck couple touch there's a blinding light as they disappear from view leaving only a solitary crystal lying on the floor.....

Serrano pushes everyone aside and grabs for it but suddenly drops it with a scream as the fungus begins to infect his hand and the words "TO BE CONTINUED" flash up on the screen.

No, really.

Hmmmm.....titles.

Lurching drunkenly 'tween slasher movie, Sci-Fi and kooky campus caper, Tom Kennedy's only foray into directing (after a career working as an editor) is a threadbare throwback with a TV movie of the week feel and whilst it's in no way that bad a movie it is a horribly inept one, which is scary considering its pedigree, featuring as it does such luminaries as Nina Axelrod, James Karen, Shari Belafonte (riffing Adrienne Barbeau in The Fog as a sexy DJ) and most bizarrely one Warrington Gillette, who went on to play the unmasked Jason Voorhees in Friday 13th Part 2.

Hopefully with make up tho'.

The rest of this cast of has beens, might be's and ne'er wills isn't too bad either with appearances from Greta (Chained Heat) Blackburn, Kevin (Hell Night) Brophy, Melissa (Invasion: USA) Prophet as well as  Antoinette Bower from that episode of Star Trek with the huge kitten.

But most importantly it features a (brief) re-teaming of Assault On Precinct 13's Austin Stoker and Darwin Joston which frankly makes the film worth owning for that alone.

"Laugh now!"

Behind the scenes it has Flesh Gordon's Jason WIlliams as co-writer and producer plus cult composer Richard Band on soundtrack duty whilst the majority of the crew were straight off the back of that monster hit The Howling and no doubt the producers were hoping for as big (if not a bigger) hit.

Oh well.

"Oh no! I have my womans period!"

Coming across like the idiot offspring of Kolchak or a lobotomized X Files, Time Walker never hits the dizzy heights (or shites) of The Incredible Melting Man or even Hangar 18 but is fairly inoffensively enjoyable in it's own albeit moldy way.


Plus you can picked it up on Amazon for a measly eleven quid on a shiny DVD that also features Lady Frankenstein, The Velvet Vampire and Grotesque (not that one) so what's not to love?


I mean you couldn't even get a quick handjob for that kinda cash.


And no your sister doesn't count.


Recommended viewing.

my recurring dream...

beale gone kid.

A wee break from all the film based shenanigans I usually post in order to share this word of warning I received via e-mail last week.



Enjoy.


Dear Ashton,

You know Gillian Taylforth? best known for her role as Kathy Beale in EastEnders and as Jackie Pascoe-Webb in Footballers' Wives?

Blood Witch.

And a really, really powerful one at that.

And she now has my scent.

A few months back I accidentally smeared a bit of blood on a signed postcard of her I received from the BBC many years back and my life has been a living hell since.

She's started projecting herself into my dreams and talking to me telepathically....it feels like my energy has been drained and my life is slowly being ruined.

When you see her interviewed she acts all sweetness and light, convincing the viewers that she isn't a flesh-eating she-demon who sees us all as little more than cattle to be fed off.

All I can do is warn you to NEVER speak to her or to attempt to contact her telepathically. Especially if like me you have high sexual energy levels and are really good at magic.

Real magic I mean not the card game.

Though that probably means you're quite powerful too.

This warning is for you and your readers, seriously the bitch almost got me killed and has sent psychic assassins after me several times.

Heed my words.

Oh and by the way I think It Follows was shit too. 

bostin.

For no reason whatsoever here's a collection of jingles from Beacon Radio 303....the West Midlands equivalent of WKRP in Cincinnati only with bigger bush.

Enjoy.

bin raidin'.

just given this a rewatch.

No idea why.

The Raiders Of Atlantis (AKA Atlantis Interceptors, Atlantis Inferno, I predatori di Atlantide. 1983)
Dir: Ruggero Deodato.
Cast: Christopher Connelly, Gioia Scola, Tony King, George Hilton, Ivan Rassimov, Mike Miller, Bruce Baron, Michele Soavi, Giancarlo Prati, Maurizio Fardo, Mike Monty, John Vasallo, Lewis A. Cianelli, James Demby and Audrey Perkins.

"This don't look like no advanced civilization
to me - just a bunch of trees!"

Rough and tumble, pastel clad heroes for hire Mike Smith (mottle skinned Connelly from Manhattan Baby) and Geoff 'Mohammad' Washington (King AKA Malik Farrakhan from Cannibal Apocalypse and BJ and the Bear), make ends meet by chloroforming then kidnapping old men on the orders of the US government for $50,000 a shot.

Which is nice work if you can get it.

Having delivered an old fella to a mysterious colonel whilst wisecracking about Vietnam and Washington's conversion to Islam, the pair decide to set sail to the Caribbean for a well deserved holiday.

By some strange coincidence, a secret Navy project is getting under way in the same bit of ocean and the tiny faced (and frighteningly insectoid) science type, Dr. Cathy Rollins (Desirable Teacher and Until Death 'star' Scola) has been (forcibly) drafted in to help decipher an ancient, skull embossed plaque discovered on the ocean floor.

The projects head, the bespectacled and knee length shorted Professor Peter Saunders (Hilton from such classics The Case of the Bloody Iris and Holy God, Here Comes the Passatore!) explains that they came across it (not literally) whilst trying to raise a Russian sub that had sunk a few months earlier.

Being an expert on pre-Columbian dialects of almost Daddy Pig proportions, Rollins has absolutely no trouble in translating the strange markings on the plaque and announces that it tells the whereabouts of the fabled lost city of Atlantis.

"Bbbbbbzzzzzzzzzz!"

Meanwhile in a mysterious Caribbean isle hotel room, a spooky man in his granddad's suit slowly opens a wall safe and removes a joke shop plastic skull mask from it, gazing lovingly at it before popping it onto his tiny head.

I'm just relieved that he didn't force it up his arse.

Talking of tiny heads - and anal insertions, it's action stations all the way back on the government submarine stealing base as Rollin's takes a break from transcribing ancient inscriptions (and a sell out spoken word tour) to peer at a grainy black and white monitor showing superimposed images of a child's bath toy slowly rising to the surface of a fishtank.

Suddenly the whole place goes haywire as indoor firework style sparks shower the set and the light fuses blow.

As the crew run around like small girls being chased by a wasp it's left to the director of Delamore Dellamorte to lead everyone to the lifeboats.

But what's happening back on that island with the skull-faced man I hear you cry?

Well so far nothing seeing as we've cut to a garishly clad couple, Arthur and Maude who, upon leaving their house are shocked and frightened by the amount of grainy stock footage of thunderstorms in the distance.

Maude is understandably upset and wants to go back into the house but as she turns to enter the porch plastic skull face turns up (surrounded by a motley assortment of leather clad and mohawk headed pikeys) and shoots her in the throat before parking his bike up Arthur's arse .

Finally some bum-based action.

Boris Johnson reveals his true form.

Mike and Washington, alongside their oiled Filipino cabin boy Manuel (Vasallo in his only credited screen appearance - shame) are having problems of their own trying to guide the boat thru' giant waves whilst dodging the huge domed city that's appeared out of the ocean in front of them.

The trio are surprisingly nonchalant about the whole thing which is quite refreshing for this type of movie, well at least they are until the outboard motor explodes and the last crate of beer falls overboard.

Luckily the films fades to black before it can get too exciting (or expensive) and next thing we know it's the following morning.

Phew.

The sea is calm and Washington and Manuel seem to have forgotten about their earlier ordeal and are busying themselves rescuing the survivors (including Italian cinema's sexiest man, Sir Ivan of Rassimov in the pivotal role of daredevil pilot Bill Cook) from the base whilst Mike makes googly eyes at Cathy.

Who it appears seems young enough to be his daughter but let's not dwell on that.

Mercifully for the viewer this uncomfortable display of old man lust is cut short when Manuel suddenly becomes a mentalist and grabs Cathy by her scrawny throat, threatening to kill anyone who gets in his way.

It appears that Manuel has received a psychic message telling him that 'Cathy is needed'.

It mustn't be that important tho' seeing as he's happy enough to jump overboard without her.

"To me!" "To you!"

With everyone just standing about staring at each other trying to figure what just happened, nobody notices that the boat has run aground on a deserted beach until Cathy decides to go skinny dippy, jumps overboard and grazes her knee on a discarded Irn Bru bottle.

Mike being the oldest (by about seventy years) takes charge and decides that they should head inland and try to find a phone.

Or at least find the guy who runs the donkey rides across the sand.

Approaching the nearest town our intrepid (or is that tepid?) band are shocked to find the whole place in ruins with buildings ablaze, cars overturned and corpses hanging from every telegraph pole.

Mike mistakenly thinks that they've arrived in Manchester and whilst desperately trying to score some skag of an illiterate inbred on a street corner bumps into his old pal Manuel, still nutty as squirrel shit and here to warn them to get Cathy back to the boat before 'they' arrive to take her.

Top Gear's gone a bit shit.

But it's a warning too late as the infamous 'they' (plastic skull face and his merry band of homo-erotic bikers) arrive and start shooting at things whilst showing their oiled nipples to all and sundry forcing Mike and co. to take shelter in a church.

All that is except the resident ginger man who runs towards the leather clad gang shouting “They’re human! They’ll listen to reason!” before being shot in the face and nailed to a tree.

Which is fair enough I reckon.

Waiting till nightfall and the badboy bikers going home to bed, Mike and Bill lead the survivors to the (relative) safety of a nearby warehouse packed with cases of rifles, unlimited ammunition and a big box of napalm.

Which is pretty damn lucky if you ask me.

On a less interesting note the warehouse is also hiding place to a balding camp man in a tuxedo (Fardo from The Bronx Warriors 2 and Demons 6), his fairly unattractive daughter and his very unattractive wife.

Don't worry tho', they'll be dead soon.

It's not long before the barking bikers return to torment and taunt Mike and his pals whilst handily standing still on top of walls within easy shooting distance.

“We have returned!” shouts plastic before sending his men into the warehouse to snatch Cathy, leaving Mike no alternative but to give chase.

What a guy.

Running around the backlot, his turkey neck glistening with sweat Mike chances upon a hefty German man (Mike Miller, not this one I assume) in a fetching headband who goes by the name of Klaus.

Being a typical German he's been wandering around for days spoiling for the chance to fight someone.

Or at the very least find somewhere to place his towel.

Not too surprisingly he jumps at the chance to join Mike's quest.

Returning to the warehouse and reading thru' Cathy's notebook (in the hope of finding some nude pictures of her obviously) Mike discovers that Atlantis sank as a consequence of a big civil war culminating in the use of a nuclear bomb, ergo the radiation leaking from the downed Soviet sub is what must have caused the island to rise again.

Obvious really.

There's a downside to all this domed city and psychic nonsense tho' as it seems that the radiation has caused all the surviving Atlanteans to become forgetful which is why they need Cathy as it seems only she knows how to raise  Atlantis for good.

And yes, I know it's all bollocks, I've just had to type it.

Scola: Nice shoes, shit sofa.

But Mike, being brave and desperate for a shag has a rescue plan which involves commandeering a bus to travel to the local airport and steal a helicopter to fly to Atlantis, kill everyone there and leave with Cathy over his shoulder.

Yup, works for me.

After an exciting bus journey and a few more killings they do indeed steal a helicopter and fly toward the bubblicious Atlantis where, upon landing they kill a few more leather-clad Atlantean types whilst Professor Saunders (yes, he's still alive and wearing shorts) decides that neutralising the radiation from the submarine may indeed cause Atlantis to sink again, saving everyone from being over-run by plastic skull wearing mentalists on motorbikes.

Or something.

Stance.

Whilst all this killing and science is going on Cathy has had time to dress up in a seventies disco-whore outfit and have a conversation with some old men projected onto a wall.

Her lack of any visible acting ability makes me think that she's either drunk or under hypnosis seeing as she's not only readily agreed to help the Atlantean's take over the world but seems to believe all the frankly techno-bollocks chat that's being banded about.

Saying that tho' her legs to look particularly nice in those glittery tights so it's not all bad.

But time (and the viewers patience) is running out.

"Shite in mah Atlantean mooth!"

Will Mike be able to rescue Cathy in time to take her out for the promised spinach supper?

Will the Professor be able to turn off the nuclear radiation?

Or will the plastic skull man take over the world?

Go on, guess.

What film are we talking about?

The controversy courting king of the cannibals Ruggero Deodato's little seen action epic Raiders of Atlantis is a majestically mental mix of gruesome gore, mystical mumbo jumbo and post-apocalyptic thrills, riffing Indiana jones and the Hong Kong classic Fantasy Mission Force along the way before mixing the entire thing to a tepid disco beat courtesy of the fantastic Guido De Angelis and Maurizio De Angelis under the alias Oliver Onions.

I'll give you a second to take all that in and then ask....

What's not to like?

Gioia Scola: Asked your dad.

For better or worse, Deodato will probably only be remembered (by all but the most devoted film enthusiasts) for his infamous mockumentary shocker Cannibal Holocaust (and possibly House on the Edge of the Park but for all the wrong reasons) which is a shame really, as his most enjoyable (and accessible) works are the ones that no-one seems to have seen.

And if they have they rarely seem to talk about them.

From the sexy swashbuckling Lucretia love starring comic book adaptation Zenabel to the sublime crime thriller Live Like a Cop, Die Like a Man (AKA The Terminators) via the lo-fi Airport: 79 rip off Concorde Affaire '79 (AKA Concorde Inferno '79), Deodato is a director whose genuine love of cinema (and more importantly an appreciation of the sheer enjoyment that films can give) shines thru' even the most threadbare and nonsensical plots.

And much like the great man's drug busting actioner Cut And Run, The Raiders Of Atlantis might be total bollocks but you can't deny that it's utterly enjoyable.

And you can't say fairer than that can you?