Never Say Die: The History Of Buio Omega



There are quite a lot of names synonymous with old school Italian Horror and Exploitation. Fulci, Bava, Deodato, to name a few. Depending on your taste, and how ghoulish you might be, you probably favor one over all others. I appreciate many movies from all who contributed to this era. But I've got to admit, I've always been on the D'Amato bandwagon. One of his films in particular made an impression on me at an early age. At around 13 I rented a movie most know as Beyond The Darkness. However, the Blockbuster copy was titled Buried Alive. A version of the film which I've always heard was R-rated, having certain things cut out. Not so. just a different tile, as it would turn out. Originally titled Buio Omega. Regardless of your taste in Italian cinema, and regardless of what title you saw this film under, I like to think we're all in agreement that this is one sick movie. And to this day, the only movie to make me queasy.

Like many of these twisted (and sometimes ridiculous) epics, Beyond The Darkness also relies on the success of American films for inspiration. Nothing wrong with that, really. I've never heard anyone say they didn't like one of these because it was too similar to some other movie they liked. This one, however, is an obvious one. Not too terribly similar to Psycho, but pretty similar. There's no hiding from it. Nobody dresses up like mother. Nobody in this movie is THAt insane. Just insane enough to do some really bad things to some random people for no reason other than to deal with the grief from the loss a loved one, and the stress of having their corpse around 24/7. I'm getting a little ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

We don't know Frank very well. Nor do we ever get to. Frank is a rich guy who inherited his estate from his parents, years ago. Seemingly, a happy, healthy young man with plenty of happiness and stability in his future. Or at least he should be. His fiancée, Anna, is deathly ill, and near the end. We get the idea this is due to Voodoo brought on by the maid, who we later learn is in love with Frank, and with the idea of being mistress of the house. In what was a rather sad moment, Anna passes right as Frank is about to stick it to her one last time. Not to imply that trying it again is completely out of the question just because she's dead.

Seemingly only grief-stricken, we later get the idea Frank's sanity has shattered along with this heart. Late one night, after Anna is buried, Frank takes his van down to the graveyard, and digs up the love of his life, and takes her back home where she belongs. But not without complications. On the way, Frank gets a flat tire, only to have a portly, potheaded hitchhiker forced upon him. Frank puts almost no effort into kicking her out of the van, which makes little sense, considering what he has in the back. Pothead chick passes out in the van, and I guess Frank didn't want to disturb her, because he just literally went about his business once he got home, and simply left her in there to sleep it off. And by "business", I mean taking Anna's corpse into his taxidermy room and ripping out all of her innards and stuffing her. Plucking out her eyes and replacing them with glass ones. The whole nine yards. Overwhelmed by it all, Frank gets a little carried away and takes a big bite out of her heart. By far the most disturbing scene in the movie. Frank has lost it, and figures that if he can't have the life with Anna that he wanted, he can at least preserve her shell, and just gaze at it, and obsess over what could have been for the rest of his life. But what about the pothead chick?

Pothead chick wakes up from her pot-coma and wanders on in there as this whole thing is wrapping up, and gets killed for it, of course. But not before getting her fingernails randomly ripped out. Ok. So, things just got a little more complicated. This is where the maid comes in handy. Iris is more than willing to help out her Frank, and quickly chops up pothead chick's surprisingly not so bad looking naked corpse and throws it, piece by piece, into a bathtub of acid. Problem solved. And just to show Frank what a good sport she is, she doesn't give him a hard time over the corpse. Although, she's probably smart enough to not try his patience at this point. At least anything concerning Anna. However, there's this one scene. Strangely, the scene that made me the most queasy during my original viewing. I'm still not sure what this crazy bitch was shoveling in her mouth, but it was beyond nasty. Frank vomits, and Iris seems amused as she asks if the heat is getting to him. I don't think it was until that very minute.

Besides what was already mentioned, there was really one other scene involving extreme gore and cruelty. This one, being almost equally effective. Frank meets a young woman while jogging, who just happened to sprain her ankle. Frank takes her back to his pad, seemingly with the intention of getting some ass, but Frank intends on living dangerously, today, as he tries sticking it to the young woman in the bed, right beside his girlfriend's corpse. Even going so far as to lift up the sheet, so he can get a peek at her, which I'm assuming was meant to get him in the mood. Of course, Frank is caught, and the freaked out chick gets a chunk of her throat bitten out before she can make too big of a ruckus. As usual, Iris is ready and willing to help out, quickly shoving the body in the incinerator. A body that they then notice isn't even dead yet. Watching it burn with indifference, falling further into insanity. Not so much Iris. I think her deal is that she's just a horrible person. She convinces Frank to marry her in exchange for staying off his case about Anna's corpse. This agreement, however, doesn't last, which is when things get nasty, and where it all inevitably falls apart.

So, yeah. Not exactly a Psycho ripoff, but it's there. Frank doesn't have Norman's heart or his ability to make us sympathize, much like the story in this movie doesn't have a fraction of Psycho's depth. The only thing, in my opinion, stopping Beyond The Darkness from being the masterpiece it could have ended up being. But quality be damned. This one is all about the shock value. But it was more than the disturbing gore and Iris' lack of table manners that bothered the 13 year old me. It was the whole tone of the movie. The complete and utter darkness of the story, and the hopelessness of it all, tied together nicely by a menacing/haunting score by the now legendary Goblin.

A really bleak one, here. It just made me plain uncomfortable at the time. There's not a lot to the story, and the disturbing content is few and far between, but Beyond The Darkness, if nothing else, is genuinely effective. I just wish I had seen more equally effective Horrors in my more vulnerable years. But as I continue my thankless quest to be shocked by the horror genre, all the August Undergrounds and Slaughtered Vomit Dolls in the world can't compete with my warm and fuzzy memories of this sleazy Italian shocker. 7/10



#Review

Fear And Loathing in New York



As many of us know, drugs can be a lot of fun. Not always, given the circumstances, but more often than not, drugs are fun. Weird, 80's Horror movies involving drugs, however, well, those are always fun. And nobody knows this better than weird, 80's Horror director, Frank Henenlotter, who was once known only for a little cult gem called Basket Case https://trashepics.com/post/9/49/. It would be 6 years before Henenlotter would attempt a follow up. Today, we're going to talk about Brain Damage. The first film of several which gives us the idea that when Frank Henenlotter finds a formula he likes, he by God sticks with it. While most of Henenlotter's films may have a bit too much in common with Basket Case, at times, it's a pretty easy thing to overlook, for me. Because the Henenlotter formula always entertains.

In Brain Damage, we find an elderly couple losing their shit due to their pet Parasite-Worm hightailing it. For a while, we're not certain of the significance, but we soon discover this thing is like a walking drug. A walking, talking drug, actually. A silver tongued "Aylmer" who has the ability to inject a psychedelic drug into people's brains, giving them one hell of a trip. Unfortunately, a drug that is highly addictive. That's not even the catch. We'll get to the catch.

In the same apartment building, the Aylmer finds a new friend to share his brain candy with. A guy named Brian, who hasn't quite been himself lately. It's not entirely clear what his problem is, but he seems very bored with life. Definitely depressed. He'll do just fine, says Aylmer. After giving him a couple doses, Aylmer convinces Brian to take him out for a while. Being higher than he's been in his entire life, Brian would agree to pretty much anything. While out, things get a little clearer. For us, the viewer. Not so much for Brian. Aylmer kills a guy and eats his brain. Brian is oblivious for now, but a time will come when these two will need to sit down and have a talk.

Once Brian notices, he's far from cool with Aylmer killing, especially since it's mostly people he comes in contact with. This issue is certainly addressed ASAP, but by now, it's far too late for Brian to be making demands, or to even negotiate. Aylmer's got him. Either Brian keeps on helping him find food, or it's back to boring old sobriety. That's to assume he makes it past the excruciating agony of withdrawals. A far worse cold Turkey than Heroin, it would seem. Brian can't take it, and soon, caves in, as Aylmer always knew he would. The thing about Aylmer is that he's been around for centuries, and is a long sought after legend, who has been kidnapped by many, a lot of which probably lived to regret it. In other words, Aylmer knows how to get what he wants. And without compromise. So, that's about the size of it. Brian's fucked!

It was a smart subject matter to exploit for the times. A time when drugs, even pot, were looked down upon more so, and in some cases, misunderstood. And with the Basket Case similarities present, it all worked incredibly well. Personally, I'm very much on the Basket Case bandwagon, but I can easily see why someone might favor this one. It is a hell of a lot of fun. Speaking of Basket Case, the completely uninspired, yet welcomed cameo by Duane and Belial of course deserves a mention, as little sense as it made. Duane and Belial make everything more fun.

Aylmer seems friendly enough, but don't let his calming demeanor fool you. That thing is a selfish asshole. And I can't help but feel for his victims. Not so much the people who got their brains sucked out and eaten. But the vulnerable Brian, who never stood a chance. But especially the elderly couple from the beginning, who apparently spent decades tripping their asses off and loving life, only for it all to be snatched away in an instant. Doesn't sound worth it to me. Personally, I would have had my fun, and then kick that thing to the curb once it got mouthy. And then smoke some pot, or something. Fuck him!

Brain Damage is quite possibly the perfect Henenlotter movie, as well as the perfect variation of the Henenlotter formula involving an otherwise normal person dealing with a freak of some sort in some very unorthodox ways, which, more often than not, makes him appear crazy. But there is something about this one that is somewhat timeless. A movie which has aged well most likely due to the fact that it's subject matter remains as relevant as it was in the anti-drug 80's. In fact, I'm a little surprised there's never even been talk of a remake. I'd check it out, because I think it would be a hard concept to seriously fuck up. Maybe even a little more depth and character development would be in order. Which is one thing Brain Damage is lacking. A forgiveable flaw considering everything else that goes down. But as we all know, some things can only be duplicated to an extent. And in that case, it probably wouldn't even be worth the effort. Because the wonderful Henenlotter weirdness is truly one of a kind. 7/10



#Review

Talking Trash: The History Of Multiple Maniacs



We were told it would never happen. We were told it wasn't possible. We were told it was just too expensive to even consider. Then again, we were all told, at one time or another, to never say never. And after years of John Waters insisting in interviews that a dvd/blu-ray release of Multiple Maniacs wasn't in the cards, well, there you go. Never say never, John.

And for those of you who don't know, the original version of Multiple Maniacs was scored with some rather popular music, which would have made it financially impossible to release it as is in modern times where the big corporations own everything, and are ready and willing to sue anyone who dare use one of their fucking songs in a movie without handing over millions. Mondo Trasho and Multiple Maniacs have both suffered from this problem. But luckily, something has finally been worked out for the latter. I'm not entirely convinced the silent Mondo Trasho would be worth the trouble, but John Waters' first talkie seriously needs to be seen by more people. And with it's new and improved, generic score, that has finally been made possible. Multiple Maniacs finally got the release it deserves.

Outside of Hairspray, when most people think of John Waters, they think of three movies. Pink Flamingos, Female Trouble and Desperate Living. And rightfully so. They all kick ass. But with this new release, the trashy three will no doubt become the trashy four. I say that because Multiple Maniacs is neck and neck with the others as far as shock value is concerned. Quality-wise, no so much. But trust me. You'll see some shit you've never seen before. Shit you might even wish you hadn't. While Pink Flamingos is widely considered the most shocking, Mutiple Maniacs very much holds the title as most mean-spirited of all the Dreamland pictures.

Multiple Maniacs stars all the Dreamlanders we remember, and maybe a few others. A story about terrible people doing terrible things. The psychotic Lady Divine and her gang of killers use their "Cavalcade Of Perversion" as a front for their true intentions. Before the unsuspecting victims are robbed and often killed, they're treated to some good old fashion weirdness, like "two queers kissing like lovers on the lips", and a heroin addict in withdrawal. Silly stuff by today's standards, but I'm guessing everyone's horrified reactions to these things were pretty spot on for the times.

The thing about Lady Divine is that she's getting really out of hand, lately. She's starting to lose it, and her temper and blood lust is even getting her boyfriend, Mr. David, a bit concerned. Not so much for her, since he hates her guts, but her recklessness and eagerness to take chances just to get in some extra kills, is going to fuck this up for everybody. Meanwhile, Mr. David and his mistress plot to kill Lady Divine so they can perform acts together as often as they please. No way would she let Mr. David walk. If he even tries, they're both as good as dead.

Before they can plan anything, one of Lady Divine's spies informs her that her man was spotted with another woman. As she rushes over to destroy them, Lady Divine is randomly attacked and raped by a couple of drug addicts, which changes everything. Bewildered, Lady Divine wanders into a Catholic Church where she makes a new friend. A "religious whore" named Mink takes a shining to Lady Divine, and proves so by giving her a Rosary job. That's right. A Rosary up the ass. This leads to Lady Divine going Lezbo and the two falling for each other. You would think this might solve everything, but this is a raving lunatic we're talking about, here. Lady Divine could be happy she has someone and just let Mr. David be happy with his new girlfriend, too, but then, she wouldn't get to kill and mutilate them both, and descend further into madness. There's no fun in that.

Shot where ever possible for only five Thousand Dollars, Multiple Maniacs is more rough and raw than any of the later trash epics, as Waters was clearly still trying to learn the art of filmmaking while shooting this. In fact, he did pretty much everything except the acting. Clearly, he learned a lot from this one, considering Pink Flamingos was leaps and bounds ahead of this in every way. But Multiple Maniacs is still the darkest of them all, flaunting a rebellious tone that can be heard loud and clear. I wouldn't say this film is John Waters at his best, but perhaps it is Divine at his. I can promise, you'll never see a meaner, nastier, more delusional Divine than in Multiple Maniacs.

Something that recently occurred to me while watching this on my new crystal clear Blu-ray, is that its the only one of Water's early trash films where the comedy is secondary to the shock value. In fact, most of the comedy comes from the lack of acting ability and other so bad they're good flaws. This film often feels like a drug-fueled Political Drama where no one has a bit of common sense and eveything goes very, very bad, spiraling out of control into territory nobody saw coming. All I can say is that John Waters must have had access to some killer acid in his day. 5/10



#Review

Shot-On-Shiteo: Best Worst Throwback



Who is Josh Suire? Unfortunately, not nearly enough people know the answer to that question. Unfortunate because those who are unaware of this comic genius are seriously missing out. To know who Josh Suire is, first, one must know who Chris Seaver is. Seaver is one of the few remaining micro-budget filmmakers whose work really stands out. A comic genius in his own right, Chris Seaver is known for some of the weirdest, craziest, not to mention underrated/underseen Horror Comedies of the last decade plus. Putting out such trash epics as Teenape Goes To Camp and I Spit Chew On Your Grave. Both of which include Josh Suire. You could say he's been Seaver's go to guy. In fact, there's probably close to 30 of his films which you can find that stars Suire. And I've seen most of them. Trust me. You're missing out if you're not familiar with these low budget treasures. A few years ago, Josh Suire also gave gave directing a shot. Today, we're going to talk about one of his two movies. An Evening With My Great Aunt Bedelia, it's called. Oh, this has gotta be good!

An Evening With My Great Aunt Bedelia is very similar to the type of films Chris Seaver was making at the time. In fact, it was also part of the company they had going. Warlock Home Video, which specialized mostly in shot-on-video, 80's/early 90's throwbacks. Even being marketed as lost movies from the era. Warlock itself was portrayed as a company which went under years ago. In the spirit of the old S.O.V.s, Chris Seaver gave us such 80's homages as Stoinky Beach and Death-O-Lantern. Apparently inspired by these gems, Suire finally tried his hand at (bad) filmmaking, and in my humble opinion, managed to come up with something just as good, if not better... or worse. Depending on how you look at it.

An Evening With My Great Aunt Bedelia is set in 1993, and actually has the look and feel of some bad S.O.V. from the same year. Bedelia stars Josh Suire as Bedelia, and Amber Snook as her Great Niece, Edith, who recently lost her grandmother at the hands of the horrible Bedelia. Edith is summoned to the reading of the will, while her (obvious) homo boyfriend tags along. The lovebirds have hopes of using whatever money Edith inherits to start a Drive-In Theater. Even considering the obvious, as well as Edith's abusive nature, her and E.W. are actually kind of cute together. But that's neither here nor there.

We get the idea Edith and her Great Aunt aren't exactly tight. And this is confirmed once Edith arrives at the will reading. Unfortunately, Edith won't be inheriting her grandmother's estate due to Bedelia forcing her sister to change the will seconds before her murder. Bedelia ended up with everything, and Edith just got some dumb old book. But if we learned anything from Elvira: Mistress Of The Dark, that it's never just some dumb old book. As Edith learns of her grandmother's rivalry with Bedelia, she also discovers the jealous old hag is responsible for her death, as well as the Demonic assistance she conjured. Perhaps Grandmother knew what she was doing when she willed that book to Edith, because it happens to be her only hope to right this wrong, banish Bedelia, and keep the balance of good and evil intact.

And I realize none of that sounds too terribly weird. However, if you've seen Josh Suire in anything, especially in drag, then, you know this movie is just dripping with weirdness. Very similar to the LBP weirdness we know and love. And we'll just say the ripped off music from Return of The Living Dead, Troll 1 and Creedence Clearwater Revival is the icing on the cake. I should also point out what a fine job LBP/Warlock regular, Amber Snook, did in her role as Edith. She has come a long way since her debut in Terror At Blood Fart Lake. Although, Suire's boyfriend, who plays E.W. hasn't exactly come a long way since his role in I Spit Chew On our Grave, but goddamned if he's not every bit as hilarious. I'm totally up for more of that guy. As half assed as all of this clearly was, it's truly some of the funniest stuff I've seen in a low-budget Horror film.

Any fan of these movies may ask themselves why this Josh Suire guy never does anything else besides these movies, as he's obviously capable of branching out. And when it comes down to it, is ten times funnier than any of those dull fucks on Saturday Night Live, or whatever mainstream Comedies people like, nowadays. Well, I don't know the answer to that question. And as of now, Aunt Bedelia and a similar film, called Happy Helladays, are the only films Suire has directed. I guess all we can do is hope Chris Seaver keeps on making movies, and keeps on casting his weirdo friend, Josh. Because as long as he's in front of someone's camera, that's really all that matters. 8/10



#Review

Freddy Vs. Some Tall Fucker In A Hockey Mask



As an 80's kid who happens to be a lifelong Horror fan, I always loved those Friday The 13th and Elm Street movies, and had them all rented before I even reached my teen years. A decade or so later, after hearing rumors upon rumors of a Freddy Vs. Jason, such a movie was finally released when I was in my early 20's. At this point, I wasn't as into the genre as I once was. Barely at all, actually. But Come on! I had to see this. And you know what? I liked it. I thought it was a lot of fun. And I considered it to be worth the wait. But I should also point out that I was blind drunk when I watched this movie. As I was more often than not at that point in my life. So, there's that.

The 80's gave us more Horror characters than we knew what to do with. Some more memorable than others. But none more memorable (or profitable) than Robert Englund's Freddy Kreuger and the character of Jason Voorhees which was perfected by Kane Hodder, after years of being passed around like a cheap whore. The late 80's saw the height of these characters' popularity. And soon, rumors about a collaboration arose. One way or the other, Freddy Vs. Jason needed to happen. For the fans as well as the money hungry studio execs who know dick about Horror, but know enough to know it would be a goldmine. A goldmine in the late 80's, a goldmine in 2003. Doesn't matter. Freddy Vs. Jason is a fucking goldmine! At least in theory, it is.

As of this point, Jason is owned by Paramount and Freddy is owned by New Line. Oops! Never mind, I guess. Heaven forbid these assholes work together to give Horror fans the biggest Horror film of all time. But whatever. By the early 90's, the genre had lost a lot of steam, as well as Freddy and Jason, themselves. Although, I doubt there was ever a point people wouldn't have cared about this movie. But one day, something miraculous happened. New Line bought the rights to Jason. Game on! Let's do this! But first, let's remind everyone these guys exist by coming out with new installments of both franchises, except make them completely different, and in some cases, unrecognizable... Wait, what??

And so, Jason Goes to Hell https://trashepics.com/post/9/5/ happened. The less said about that one, the better. But at least the master Jason was in it. Good ol' Kane Hodder kept it from being completely worthless, even if he was only in a couple scenes. And the following year, the master of pretentious horror, himself, Wes Craven would return to the Franchise he created to... well, create a new Freddy. This time, he's Real, by God! Real-Freddy comes to life out of the script of the original movie, and kills old cast members. Wes, I'm sorry you're dead, ok? I really am, but fuck you!

And for years, nothing! For some time, I assumed there wasn't going to be any more movies from either franchise. Much less a Freddy Vs. Jason. And then in 2002, Jason X happened. Yeah, I know. Jason X is Jason X, and I'm not going to defend it, but this one really seemed like the end of the line for Jason. And regardless of what happens next, it still kind of is, even to this day. Not long after this, Freddy Vs. Jason is green lit. Looks like it'll be taking place before Jason X, which is weird, but still on board. However, many decisions are to be made before this movie can become reality. Remember what I said about those greedy studio execs? Believe it or not, they're still around 15 years later, and a new greedier generation has reared it's ugly head. Ok, I'm getting concerned.

And then, the first of many terrible decisions was made. Ronny Yu, director of Bride Of Chucky, has been signed on to direct. But hey! Just because he discarded all past Child's Play sequels, doesn't mean the same thing will happen, here. I mean, taking a fresh approach is great, but he's not THAT stupid, right?. I'm sure it'll be ok As long as this movie stars both Robert Englund and Kane Hodder.



Yeah, so, Hodder's out. Unbelievable! Supposedly not Ronny Yu's decision, but for whatever reason, the decision has been made to cast someone a little more similar to Part 2 Jason. But a much taller, less intimidating version. Actually, he's more or less going to be the good guy. And before I say anything else, I'll go ahead and go over the story real quick. Oh, but remember when I said Ronny Yu discarded the previous Child's Play Sequels? Well, same story, here. And you should probably know he never actually saw any of the Elm Street or Friday films, beforehand. A documented fact! But hey. Kane Hodder isn't even playing Jason, so, who really cares how bad this ends up being, anyway? It's all meaningless, now.

So, it's not entirely clear when this movie takes place. We'll say somewhere between Freddy's Dead/Jason Goes To Hell and Jason X. Since Freddy's been gone, parents of Springwood have taken steps to literally wipe out all memories of his nightmarish reign of terror. Even going so far as to get their kids on a new drug called Hypnocil, which prevents dreaming. No dreaming means no nightmares. And no nightmares means no fear. Freddy's not just dead. He's obsolete. And with the first example of lazy writing, Freddy turns into Jason's mom, gets in Jason's head and convinces him to wake up and start killing again. That's it! That's all it took for Jason to come back to life after the magic dagger finally sent him to Hell some years ago. Freddy's reasoning, you ask? So that when Jason starts killing people (in Springwood, of course), people will talk, people will get scared, and people will start remembering him... because of Jason, I guess.

Freddy's plan actually works. Problem is, Jason isn't killing to help Freddy. Jason's just killing. And I don't think Freddy wants everyone dead, as there would be nobody to torment. But as we all know, EVERYONE being dead is all Jason has ever wanted. As these bloodthirsty icons get in each other's way, tempers flare, things are said, feelings are hurt, and before we know it, Freddy and Jason set their sights on each other, leading to a showdown, while mildly entertaining, doesn't last quite as long as it should have. And to me, is quite a disappointment in the end.

Many scenarios and endings were discussed and rumored. All of which sounded better to me. But this is ultimately what we got. A story that takes almost no knowledge of either series to follow. A story that downgrades Jason from Terminator-Zombie to dim-witted victim, who is just a big, lumbering oaf, easily manipulated by Freddy, who is the real star. The only star, really, since Hodder got screwed over. And again, New Line is still Freddy's turf, so, what do you expect?

Some years passed between my first and second viewing of Freddy Vs. Jason. In those years, I managed to refresh my memory on these two legendary franchises, as well as ease up on the alcohol, which can be as good for the judgement as it is for the liver. And you know what? Not a fan. No, I don't like it at all. Wrong director, wrong Jason, no nods to any of the sequels, no Corey Feldman cameo, no cameos, period. Fifteen years to prepare and they gave us nothing! Nothing but a typical early 2000's slasher with what's her name from Destiny's Child. Seriously. Fuck her! And fuck that guy who's supposed to be Jason Mewes. So many routes they could have taken, so many cool ideas unused. Somehow, this potentially huge movie turned out to be the biggest missed opportunity in Horror history. I won't lie to you. I could have overlooked a lot if that one Elephant in the room of a casting mistake hadn't happened. but even that would only barely save it for me.

When I called this movie meaningless, maybe that was a bit harsh. I mean, we're so used to seeing Kane Hodder as Jason, and even if that wasn't as bad as it was, it was still a little late in the game to be making such drastic changes. But if I just choose to look at this as the finale to the original Elm Street franchise, which just happens to have Jason in it, then, it doesn't seem quite as bad. Of course, this is coming from a Jason guy, and someone who frankly can take or leave Freddy at this point. So, I'm just not overly concerned with what becomes of Freddy Kreuger. However, the Friday side of things just makes me sad. As dumb as Jason X was, I still prefer to think of that as the end of the Jason Voorhees saga, because in reality, it was, and there's nothing Freddy Vs. Jason can do about it. The real Jason is in another time, on another planet, doing his thing, far out of the reach of Ronny Yu. 3/10



#Review

Bhaskar Knows Best



Once upon a time, in an era of Charles Manson-inspired Horror, there lived a gang of Satan-worshiping hippies. The Sons And Daughters Of Satan, they called themselves. S.A.D.O.S. thought they were pretty bad ass. A delusion maintained much easier with regular doses of LSD. As leader, we have one bastard of an Indian named Horace Bones, played to perfection by the the fabulous Bhaskar. He may be the most evil out of the group, and a born leader, but so far, Horace has led this group absolutely nowhere. Or more like Nowheresville.

Since the van broke down, the gang is stuck in in this almost abandoned town with a population of forty. which is still plenty of people to terrorize if they happen to get bored. And you know they will. The night before, a local girl stumbled upon some Satanic ritual they were performing, and gets raped for it, which is really only implied. Traumatized girl's grandpa is pretty steamed about this, and ends up tracking these punks down, finding them in a near by abandoned house where Bhaskar and pals have been roasting rats and doing cool Devil shit.

Poor 'ol Grandpa says his peace and makes an honest effort at running the degenerates out of town. But instead of cutting out, they go ahead and just force the old man to take some of their potent LSD. Personally, I wouldn't have taken this route, as there are plenty of ways of abusing the elderly without wasting perfectly good drugs. But then again, I'm pretty sure that stuff was easier to come by in the early 70's than it is now. Although, these guys do seem like the impulsive type. I'm sure they'd reconsider this irresponsible behavior, had they the time to go over.

Grandpa wanders on home to lick his wounds. He sticks the salt and pepper shakers on his head whilst weeping, which are clearly his new Devil horns. Subtle comedy relief like that is a nice touch. The next morning, Grandpa announces that something must be done about this gang of savage hyenas. My first assumption to this statement was that he was still Flyin' high, but it quickly occurred to me he was talking about S.A.D.O.S. It's true. These hyenas have got to go. And that's where Pete comes in. This well fed little fella doesn't like his family fucked with any more than grandpa, but happens to be a bit more cunning. Or just plain mean, some might say. Maybe he just puts zero thought into his actions, and seemingly remains unphased regardless of how horrible the outcome. Which makes him no different than the Satanists, who's nights are now very much numbered, by the way.

I may not know about that L stuff, or whatever you call it, but I know about Rabies! No seriously. The kid actually says this. Pete goes out and kills a rabid dog, and later injects some of the blood into a bunch of meat pies, which of course all get bought up by the fun loving Satanists. Pretty cold for a little kid. I'm not so sure the punishment fit the crime, but tell that to Pete. In fact, save it. Pete doesn't care. Then again, the night is young, and S.A.D.O.S. have only begun to dine on their Rabies-pies. After a while, everybody starts feeling a sickness, which soon turns to an animalistic rage. As some of the gang members turn on each other, they all soon head down to this unsuspecting little town to let out a little frustration. Forget everything you knew about these people. Whatever they originally had in mind is irrelevant. These raving lunatics only know one thing, now. Kill and destroy everyone, including each other. Not for Satan. Just for the hell of it.

Formerly known as Phobia, This here is one grimy, nasty little Satanic shocker which pre-dates any infected movie out there. Before 28 Days Later, before Nightmare City, and before The Crazies, there was this mean ass movie which was very much inspired by the shenanigans of Charles Manson and his easily manipulated gang od acid heads. Directed by the late David Durston, who never had a bigger claim to fame than this. Speaking of claims to fame. This film actually holds the honor of providing the always angelic Lynn Lowry with her first role. Although uncredited. Originally, I had heard I Drink Your Blood was quite the gorefest, but soon learned what was hype and what wasn't. Definitely not the goriest of movies from the era, but gruesome in different ways. And the atmosphere was spectacular. Humid, uncomfortable, nerve racking atmosphere. Dark, grisly, but enough stupidity to make it all fun. I Drink Your Blood is low-budget 70's Horror at it's sleaziest! 6/10



#Review

Baaad Shit: The History Of Blood Stalkers



For some twenty years, when I hear the Everglades mentioned, I automatically think of this one movie I rented as a teenager. Nothing mindblowing, or overly memorable about this movie, really, but I can't recall knowing jack shit about The Everglades before I saw it. Blood Stalkers, they call it. Less commonly known as The Night Daniel Died. A backwoods, would be-Slasher from the late 70's, which makes poor attempts at also being a Bigfoot movie. Blood Stalkers more or less educated me on this infamous Florida location. Or, at the very least, taught me all I needed to know. I'm pretty sure they were trying to tell us that The Everglades sucks and to stay away forever, even if there's no actual danger. Living in far better part of Florida, which still kind of sucks, I can appreciate this message. When going on vacation, Always go North. Never South!

Two couples are nearing the end of a road trip which is supposed to culminate with a long awaited vacation in The Everglades. Mike's parents owned this cabin, which now belongs to him. Mike is determined to treat his best friend, Daniel, and the wives, to two weeks of South Floridian bliss, with the mosquitoes, humidity and all. This isn't just Florida, This is a more untamed version of Florida than what most of us may be aware of. Nobody besides Mike is into this. The wife is all sarcastic about it, and their city slicker friends seem intimidated at the thought of roughing it for a while. In this case, a while is going to be two whole weeks. And Mike basically says "tough shit" to anyone who has an issue. Mike has decided that there is not a better place on Earth to vaycay than this rundown cabin which is very literally in the middle of nowhere.

The vacationing couples stop for gas and directions, as it's been years since Mike was out here. At first, they get the cold shoulder from the ornery old man. All questions go unanswered until they let slip where they're headed. The old man, along with his three intimidating friends, warn them to stay away. it's not entirely clear whether this is a threat or a an actual warning, but it was implied that there's some kind of creatures out there called 'blood stalkers". Although, it seemed like they may have been referring tothemselves. We still don't know what type of Horror movie this is.

Mike wipes his ass with everyone's concerns, and drives off to find the cabin, anyway. After finally getting directions from a mute, Mike, Kim, Daniel and Jerri park a peace away and hike up to the cabin with luggage in hand, which includes a single 12-pack of beer. That's right. A two week vacation in a cabin with no electricity, nearby hostile locals, and possibly some damn thing out there. Yeah, sure. A 12-pack of beer should do nicely.

I'll admit, this is a cool little place, but it's unclear what Mike expects everyone to do to pass the time. He just seems caught up in reliving childhood vacations. And everyone but the wife is too polite to say anything. But even Kim warms up to this ordeal a little when they find a nice place to skinny dip. Which is when the danger begins, as they're given a scare by what sounded like a Panther. But maybe not. As Mike and Kim rush back to the cabin to warn their friends, they decide not to say anything and just play it cool for a while. After a relaxing evening, things seem like they're going to be ok. As everyone heads to bed, all hell breaks loose when someone (or something) reaches through the window and grabs Jerri, rendering her husband useless, as he freezes in his tracks and begins to pour sweat for what seems like hours. The more manly Mike gets Jerri free, although, she is now catatonic due to this scare.

Mike fires a gun several times, accidentally killing their own dog. Now, it sounds like there's someone (or something) on the roof, making some racket. If that's bigfoot up there, then, he's probably going to kill everyone. If not, then, it's probably those backwoods fucks trying to give everyone a scare before killing them. Mike then makes the most important decision of his life. He leaves the gun with Daniel, and runs off into this piss poor little town of 38 in order to find some help.

Nobody Mike comes across wants anything to do with him. Obviously, there is something to be afraid of, and Mike is the only one who doesn't know what that is. Despite all the pleading with strangers, Mike never got any help, and never made it back to the cabin, that night. But he eventually did. And what he found there would set off a once dormant killing machine, damaged by the atrocities of Vietnam. From what we understand, Mike was always a hair away from reverting back to what he once was. However, it appears there'll be no help for Mike, this time.

Aside from the story, I don't have a hell of a lot to say about this film, simply because there's just not much that I am aware of. But I will say that was one great location they picked for this weird little film. They did a superb job capturing that backwoods vibe, along with the uncomfortable, insect-ridden humidity and isolation the tiny cast and crew had to endure. All of this, complimented by a haunting score. The cast was actually pretty good. Mike vaguely reminds me of John Denver for some reason. Toni Crabtree's character of Kim was delightful with her cokey red nose. Mike's chubby, metro-sexual pal and his stripper wife made everything all the more amusing with their one-liners. So, no complaints there.

Aside from my love of nostalgia, this movie fascinates me to no end, as many films like it always have. Blood Stalkers is one of the few remaining Horror films which has yet to get the digital treatment. And unlike so many other formerly obscure films, there's still really nothing out there in the way of information about it. Just some leftover vhs tapes if you are lucky enough to find one. This one is long overdue for a dvd/blu-ray release, along with the informative extras it will provide. But one of these days, I know it will happen, and maybe then, I can tell the real story in a review with a little less filler. But in the meantime, I'll keep on appreciating the mystery that currently surrounds Blood Stalkers. 5/10



#Review

Booby Trap: The History Of Double Agent 73



As a lifelong ass man, I guess I can appreciate a good pair of chesticles only so much. But the appreciation is still very much present. I figure most straight males, or most males in general, dig some big udders. Hell, I'd bet on most people feeling that way, regardless of sexual orientation. Today, I'd like to talk about a film for the tit men, or tit people, rather. A film which has very little going for it, aside from the freakishly gigantic pair of knockers sported by the leading lady. Chesty Morgan is her name. A woman with chest jowls any ass man would love. Mainly because they often resemble a nice fat ass. But more on her/them in a minute.

https://www.amoeba.com/admin/uploads/blog/Eric_B/DorisWishman Double Agent 73 is the film I've chosen for this week. I don't have a lot to say about Spy movies, nor do I have much to say about the woman who directed this one. Doris Wishman was her name, and I can't really say I'm a fan of her work, or well schooled on it. She was mostly known for some Nudie Cuties she did in the 60's, as well as her contribution to the 80's Slasher craze, A Night To Dismember. A film known for being a disaster for many reasons, most of which were out of Wishman's hands. Long story. Then, there was that sex change documentary... So, yeah. I don't have a lot to say about the late Wishman, or this movie. Chesty Morgan, on the other hand. Christ, where do I begin?

The Polish-born Chesty Morgan (real name Liliana Wilczkowska) started out as a stripper in the early 70's, under the name Zsa Zsa, until she began her much too short film career, thanks to Doris Wishman's discovery of her. Double Agent 73 actually wasn't her first, as they made one other shortly beforehand. A Crime-Thriller called Deadly Weapons. "73's" existence was strictly due to it's popularity. This film is quite a few things, really. First and foremost, we'll just call it Sexploitation, or actually, Titsploitation might be a better word for it. But yeah. It's a spy movie, just the same.

Chesty plays Jane, aka Agent 73, who was just a hair away from getting to enjoy a long overdue vacation, but is called back to work after Agent 99 is murdered by drug kingpin, Toplar, who Jane now has to uncover and help take down. To make things easier, there has been a camera implanted in her left fun bag, which snaps pictures when lifted. But what she doesn't know is that there has been a bomb implanted in there as well, and it's set to explode if her mission is not accomplished in 36 hours. Along the way, we are treated to some of the most wooden, lifeless acting imaginable, along with badly dubbed dialogue for Chesty, who I can only assume speaks no English, or very little.

Chesty Morgan is a true oddity, who's hotness, at least in my opinion, is somehow intensified by her lack of grace, charisma, and screen presence, along with a look in her eyes that tells me she really only has a vague idea of what is going on, not unlike Christina Applegate from Married With Children. All of this, complimented by some refreshingly tacky wardrobe choices. Chesty does not have your typical stripper body, or even that of your average B-movie sex symbol. I suppose her hotness (or lack there of) is really just a matter of opinion, when it comes down to it. I can totally understand a more conservative movie goer finding her repugnant, but in a cluelessly trashy way, I find her quite mouthwatering. The type of chick John Waters would obsess over, I would imagine. Come to think of it, I do believe that was her Justin Whalin was strokin' it to in Serial Mom. Niiice! Sure. She was never going to win a Miss America pageant, but I'd like to go on record by saying that if Chesty Morgan ended up in front of me in a human centipede, I honestly can't say I'd feel jipped.

Besides Doris Wishman, I think we also owe a big thank you to Something Weird Video for putting this out there on dvd/blu-ray for a much broader audience to appreciate, Appreciation which I'm sure was far more ironic than the one before it. While watching Double Agent 73, along with Deadly Weapons, I can't help but wonder what might have been had this woman made more of an effort to get her name out there and work with more B-movie directors besides Wishman. I have no doubt that this smokin' hot anomaly, along with her lack of talent and epic sweater cows, could have gained a level of adoration and infamy equal to Divine's, had she only worked with the right people. But sadly, a Crime Thriller and a Spy movie is all we get. Even though her film career never fully came to life, Chesty Morgan's 73 inches of saggy goodness shall live forever! 4/10



#Review

Jess Franco's Cannibalsploitation Abomination



Recently, I wrote a piece on Cannibal Ferox, comparing it to the slightly more popular Cannibal Holocaust, and asking the question "Coke or Pepsi?" https://trashepics.com/post/9/98/. In other words, which is number one and which is number two. The jury is still out on that one, I guess. But I'm here today because I'm not quite finished talking about these types of movies. There's actually a lot more to know than what is found in Ferox and Holocaust. There were many before and after. Most of which were directed by Italians. Most, but not all. These Non-Italian black sheep can be spotted pretty easily, as they're lacking that special something that comforts one in need of such a film. They usually lack style, and have very different scores. Plus, the gore usually sucks.

I don't want to scare anyone off, but it just so happens that Jess Franco once or twice tried his hand at making one of these. Today, we're going to talk about one of them. White Cannibal Queen, it's called. Also known as Mondo Cannibale. I'd like to discuss this trash epic, as well as where it might fit on the soda list.

I'm just going to say it. Jess Franco really fucked up! A statement that could easily cover 2/3 of his 40 plus year career. A filmmaker responsible for some truly unique and beautiful gems here and there, but considering the man seemingly made around 12,000 movies, you just know there's going to be a lot of turkeys in there. But occasionally, the man struck gold. This is not one of those occasions. Seriously. Franco really fucked up, here! But with that said, this isn't the typical Franco badness. Franco badness normally includes lots and lots of boredom. Not so much with White Cannibal Queen was actually hilarious. Jess Franco managed to create a successful Cannibal parody right in the middle of the cannibal boom. Probably not the intention, but there's really no other way to look at it if you want to enjoy it.

I'm pretty sure they snuck in a couple white people to play cannibal savages. They have tans, but fuck a goddamn duck! This was only 1980. You'd think a shortcoming so avoidable wouldn't show up in one of these until around 1988. But again. Non-Italian. Alright, then. On with the story. Here, we got a family out near the Brazilian Jungle in an isolated hospital. The action wastes no time in getting started, as the wife is eaten, the husband's arm gets severed, and their daughter, kidnapped. All by a tribe of some very queer looking cannibals who look more like witch doctors, actually. And they seem cleaner and slightly more civilized than the one's we're used to. Some of them even speak English. Yes, English. Ten years later, we catch up with a bearded, one-armed Jeremy Taylor, who has been scarred by memories and tormented by nightmares, but is determined to go back to where it all started, to finally bring his daughter home. Only Lina Romay believes his story and is willing to help. As the two tag along on a Safari, we discover Jeremy's daughter has been made into the cannibal's own Queen. Brainwashed and everything. This complicates things. But not half as much as the inevitable bloodbath we have before us.

Strangely, this story has far more depth than most of these films. The shortcomings are plentiful, but if you're looking for something so terrible, it's incredible, and not the impalings and castrations many of us are so fond of, then, you very well might find some appreciation for this otherwise dreadful attempt at cashing in on the Cannibal craze. And that's where this all begins and ends. In some Franco films, the heart, the soul, the very essence of the man can be found. Films like A Virgin Among The Living Dead and Vampyros Lesbos. These films ARE Jess Franco. However, he was also very much a director-for-hire, at times. That's where half assed garbage like White Cannibal Queen comes in. Franco had no business making one of these, and he probably knew it. But money is money. Looking for more reasons to like such a film? Well, there's always the eternally 10/10 Lina Romay, adding that much needed hotness and class.

So, where exactly does White Cannibal Queen fit on the Soda list? I've given this a lot thought, as many things must be considered. As we already know, White Cannibal Queen isn't that great. Unconventional at best. Unnecessary might be another word to describe it. However, when it's all said and done, it very much serves its purpose. White Cannibal Queen is all but forgotten, and will forever remain underappreciated for what it brought to the table. The answer is obvious. White Cannibal Queen is Jolt Cola! 5/10



#Review

I Spit On Your Grave (2010)



I'm pretty much set in my ways when it comes to these modern Horror remakes. Not to sound narrow minded, but when I hear about a remake in the works, especially when it's of a beloved 70's or 80's classic, I almost always automatically dislike it. Can you really blame me after such shit as the Platinum Dunes flicks? Not to mention the absolutely abysmal garbage from the last year or two, like Martyrs and Cabin Fever. I'm still shocked those even exist. But even me, with my narrow mind and everything, can admit when a Horror movie is good. Even a post-2000 remake. Today, I'm going to say a few words about my favorite one. Or really, the only one I consider to be any good. A remake of a movie https://trashepics.com/post/9/51/ I wasn't THAT impressed by to begin with, to be perfectly honest. This is I Spit On Your Grave: The remake!

It's significantly slicker, with cgied, Saw-esque gore. But even aside from my "take it or leave it" attitude towards the original, something about this one makes me want to give it a break, and just enjoy it for what it is. Let's find out why, shall we? Well, things start out similar enough. Hot writer chick from the city takes a vacation in the country to write a new novel in an isolated cabin. On the way, she stops for gas, already getting looks from local rednecks, while the more confident one makes a pass, and makes quite the fool of himself, as the condescending Jennifer does his now damaged ego no favors. Now leaving the most macho of the group open to ridicule from the others.

I like this Jennifer. she's a pot head, she jogs, but is kind of clumsy, which is cute. This Jennifer has an attitude. But not to the point of being annoying like Emilia Clarke from Terminator Genisys. After Clumsy Jennifer drops her phone in the toilet, she realizes it doesn't work, and gets the local retard on it asap. After saving the day, Jennifer pays him with a kiss, which shakes him up, being the retard that he is. Later, Matthew and the redneck crew, who, I guess he's apart of, discuss the nearby city poon as the leader is noticeably angered by Matthew's bragging. This leads to testosterone-fueled shit talking, and one thing leads to another, and before we know it, a raping is being planned out.

As the rednecks drag Matthew along, it first seems like they've broke in Jennifer's cabin to simply pick on her and push her around, but we know better, and so does she. Jennifer gets away, and luckily runs into the sheriff. Looks like the day has been saved early, this time. That was a close one. As Jennifer takes the sheriff back to the cabin to explain what just happened, he seems more interested in the half-smoked joint he just found than what she's telling him. He acts all serious as if it was an 8-ball, or something, but soon makes his intentions clear. Intentions clearly involving rape! As Sheriff is joined by the rest of the crew, it finally hits us. This time, the fucking sheriff is in on it! And not only that, but HE is the leader of this pack. Unfortunate for Jennifer, as this is one sadistic, slimy little bastard. And he has his sights set on an ass raping.

So, the ass rape happens, as well as plenty of traditional rapings leading up to it. Even Matthew gets in on it, popping his tard-cherry, which sends him into some sort of rage, causing him to attack Jennifer, which was unexpected. The plan was to kill Jennifer to cover their tracks, but she manages to disappear after jumping off a bridge, into the river. Time to start panicking! Sheriff gets nervous, which makes the others nervous. We take it these guys are scared of him, as they quickly do whatever he says, spending the next few weeks looking for a body, but never finding one. The raping was also recorded, and naturally, the tape is missing. Rednecks continue to panic. But soon, they will really have something to panic about, as Jennifer prepares for gruesome revenge.

One difference I noticed about this, and it's quite typical of the times, is that less emphasis is put on the rapings and more on the revenge scenes, which are all very much worth cringing over. Pretty creative stuff they came up with, here. I guess it's good they didn't try to outdo the 22 minute rape from the original. I assume this takes place in the south, as there are attempts by the actors at southern accents. Things like that make all the difference, as Connecticut rednecks just never pack quite the punch.

The modern remake trend of revealing a bigger picture was actually a nice touch, as there's no denying the sheriff being involved does make this situation all the more intimidating. Oh, and I mustn't forget the new retard. I suppose the original Matthew was funnier and had better chemistry with the original Jennifer, but this guy is far more realistic, and reminds me far less of Woody Allen. I say pretty much everyone was better in their roles compared to the originals. But that's just one man's opinion. Maybe this remake is still a tad too slick for most fans of the old stuff, and maybe it doesn't exactly capture the feel of the first one , but in a sea of terrible remakes, I Spit On Your Grave proves to us that it's never a good idea to judge a movie by it's contemporaries. 7/10

https://assets.mubi.com/images/film/30669/image-w1280.jpg?1445876769

#Review