To effectively balance the yin and yang of the cinematic universe,we've gotta offset the recent string of Four Wop scores with a real asspie.This one will do nicely.The exploitation one-two knock out punch of producers Serafim Karalexis and Dick Randall decided to piece a film together around some ancient footage from Bruce Lee's childhood HK films,which on its own,grainier than a fifth of Everclear and bereaft of anything remotely resembling a fight scene,wouldn't entertain the Lee family on home movie night.So they added some clips of Ho Tsung Tao(Bruce Li) kicking around some karate proponents,and an entire feature centered around Korean Lee imitator,Dragon Lee.They would have been better off with an hour and a half of six year old Bruce Lee being cute.In the days before video rentals,Video Gems asked sixty-five bucks for this atrocity.Nowadays you could skim the bottom of a budget dvd bin and score a copy for a buck.Either way,the price is too high.As the announcer proudly exclaims,"The rest will be history!" Don't concentrate on the finger,or you will miss Dragon Lee kicking oversized polyurethane boulders. Dragon Lee is practicing kicking giant foam boulders into bullseye targets in the cold Korean winter air when his long silver haired sifu interrupts him for a pensive moment."Don't call me teacher.Call me father."Okay....creepy?Dragon's martial arts school is the focus of jealous Japanese bullies.These aren't your average evil Japs,mind you.The vast majority of these guys proudly rock the Hitler moustache like nobody's business.If I was the martial arts choreographer here,I'd be hiding behind a lion dance costume until you left.At first,Dragon dispatches clusters of sorry samurais trying to cop some surprise sex off of his sifu's daughter,then another amalgam of angry Asians who ambush him in the forest.In a classic moment of movie don't-know-how,Lee flies at two half-beaten Japanese on a slow wire about seven feet off the ground in a transitional shot that takes about two minutes to transpire.His kung foolery is being overseen by a white ninja,who's camoflage skills are on par with Lee's sloppy wire fu,as he sticks out like a martial paint splash in the colorful fall foliage of the forest.He bounces away in slo-mo on trampolines.The Japanese are beside themselves at their failed bullying,as always. Movement number three,Dragon flies across the shot on a wire at about a half mile an hour. The head of the rival Japanese school,a sickly thin Asian Hitler lookalike,sends a spy to infiltrate Dragon's school,but the wily Lee shows up at the Jap dojo with the spy in a net,stripped down to his knickers soon afterwards.I don't even wanna know what the Chinese did to the poor guy over there.A fight ensues between Dragon and the Japanese master,who's swordplay isn't up to par with Lee's overdone Bruce Lee imitation,when he unleashes his deadly extend-a-sword on our hero.Dragon kicks some flower pots at him and the evil master dies,with some daisies sticking out of his belly(!).The Japanese enlist the help of a man named Gruber,who's half Japanese,half German(what else?)to eradicate the Chinese.Gruber fights the unmasked white ninja(Dragon's teacher,shocker.)to a martial draw until the foreigner unleashes his deadly flying speaker diaphragms of death(!) on the old man.When Dragon hears of his teacher's untimely death,he goes to the Japanese school and takes out every last one of those damned Japanese students,distorting his face in a Bruce-ish manner the whole time.Even Gruber's speaker diaphragms of death are no match for the Bruce lookalike,as he again takes to the slo-mo flying wire,and catches the discs in his teeth,before breaking the pesky weapons in his bare hands.He sticks his fingers through the German/Japanese man's stomach,then picks up his kung fu jacket for a Bruce-esque freeze frame,where the announcer returns to apologetically remind us that there will only ever be one Bruce Lee,but his memory(despite the hour and half of pissing the film's makers had just done on it!) will live on forever. Not evil enough simply being Japanese,our antagonists grew collective Hitler moustaches. If Liu Chia Liang is the Chinese Martin Scorsese,these guys combine to form the Korean Ed Wood,Jr.The usual god-awful dubbing and sound effects(but worse,if you can comprehend that)added to sloppy choreography which overcompensates for lack of martial arts with assininely outrageous fictitious weapons,and a threadbare plot should equip copies of this entry with a package of diapers and a box of tissues,as you're bound to laugh til you cry and/or piss your pants at its ineptitude.When I first bought this ages ago,we rewound the forest wire shot no less than twenty times in a row in disbelief.For Bruce Lee enthusiasts,the real Dragon completed four kung fu movies in his life.Everything else is Brucesploitation.Some of it,like this,is just so bad,it's actually hilarious fun for your whole gaggle of miscreants on movie night.On the scale,The Real Bruce Lee slowly flies into the finish line with a score of: Even Dragon Lee thinks breaking "speaker diaphragms of death" on camera is silly.
If you're a cult cinema enthusiast and still haven't seen any of Jodorowsky's films by now,what the hell are you waiting for?The enigmatic Chilean man is an alchemist of film,creating on celluloid what the mind visualizes on heavy psychedelic substances.Director of what can be effectively called the first "midnight movie" with El Topo(The Mole) in 1970,he formed a movement in theater and literature revolving around the demigod Pan with Topor and Arrabal early on in his career.As well as attending university in Santiago,he's also been a clown,a mime,and puppeteer,and more recently,done work in comics with Moebius,though his return to film,King Shot,scheduled for release later this year,is eagerly awaited on this end,as it boasts an AMAZING cast which includes Asia Argento,Udo Kier,his son Adan,and David Hess! Holy Blood,as it has been translated to,is an amazing experience,and serves as an excellent introduction to Jodorowsky's unique and highly surreal films.The cinematography is breathtaking,the music is superb,and remarkable performances are turned in by the entire cast,which includes three of his multi-talented sons(the fourth,Brontis,has a cameo as one of the orderlies at the asylum!).Co-written and produced by Dario Argento's younger brother,Claudio,the film has an Italian horror feel throughout.Though I'll include an entire summary of the movie,I won't even be scratching the surface of the emotion the images and sounds will evoke from you in watching it for yourself,which I suggest you do,with all speed. The Holy Blood!Concha protects the memory of a young girl who was raped and murdered. We're introduced to Fenix(Adan,then later Axel Jodorowsky),a man who's lost touch with his own humanity,eating raw fish with his bare hands and swinging around on a rope in a mental asylum full of handicapped individuals.As a boy,he traveled with his parents,deranged performers in a circus;his father,Orgo,a burly tattooed strongman and knifethrower,his mother,Concha,an acrobat and head priestess of a small church dedicated to a local girl whose arms were chopped off before being brutally raped and left to die in a pool of her own blood,which still soaks the ground inside their temple.After being denounced by a Vatican representative as blasphemers,the church itself is bulldozed,leaving Concha to return to the big top with her weeping son,only to find her two-timing husband entranced by the tattooed sex of his promiscuous assistant.Fenix befriends a mute girl named Alma,who is both cared for by the tattooed woman,and abused into walking a flaming tightrope by her keeper.When one of the circus' elephants dies,the performers dress in black and parade an enormous coffin through the streets of the city in a mock funerary procession,before dumping the hulking box onto the impoverished shanty-dwellers on the edge of town,who tear the dead beast to pieces out of hunger.During a performance for the townsfolk,Concha notices Orgo again courting the tattooed temptress,driving her into a jealous frenzy and causing her to douse her husband's genitals with acid(!).Instants later,he cuts his wife's arms off and cuts his own throat with one of his throwing knives,leaving their sobbing son locked in a trailer,and destined for a complete mental breakdown,as we have already seen. This is what I call making films with your cojones. After a night on the town with his retarded peers that involves cocaine and a grossly overweight prostitute(and a sighting of the tattooed woman,now also a prostitute),Fenix is visited at the asylum by his armless mother,inspiring him to escape out a window.He performs a variety show with her where he serves as the woman's arms,singing,dancing,miming, and playing the piano for the audience.In the meantime,someone brutally murders the tattooed woman with a knife,freeing Alma,still living under the woman's iron will.She immediately sets out to find Fenix,who we find has been committing murders for his matriarchal stage partner,who wills his arms to carry out the bloody deeds.When he isn't being dominated by his mother,he's aping the experiments of his favorite movie character,the Invisible Man,perpetually furious that he himself is still visible despite his best attempts.Several murders later,Alma catches up with her childhood friend,only to discover that Fenix has created the homicidal mother in his own mind,and surrounded himself with the memories of former long forgotten circus performers and clowns.Once she's convinced the tormented man to let go of the memories of his friends and the nightmare of his mother,the two tragic figures leave his flat to face an enveloping squad of police and detectives.When Fenix is ordered to raise his hands,like his namesake,he joyously rises from the ashes,a complete man,in control of his own hands. "A little sniff of this...and we'll see." Besides the obvious paen to Italian horror movies of the decade,the film is a tale of ironic rebirth,discovery,subtle comedy,and grotesque yet beautiful complex images too powerful to be easily ignored or interpreted, and Jodorowsky's most mass-accessible film to date,enjoying both critical acclaim and global distribution.He was the original director of Dune,before being replaced by David Lynch.Also to be noted,Jodorowsky performed the marriage of Marilyn Manson(also to star in King Shot) to Dita Von Teese in Ireland in 2005.This entry is filled with little nuances and tributes to the director's lifelong influences that you'll catch after multiple viewings.While I was taking screenshots for this review,I realized nearly any shot would make a visually haunting addition to the entry.It comes with my highest recommendation,and remains one of my favorite movies across any genre.I was introduced to his work in my teens and I STILL make new discoveries everytime I decide to sit down and watch one.There's several region 2 DVDs available,for those who can't wait for the U.S. copy.I bestow upon it: "It's always roosters or swans! You never see anything else in your ridiculous hallucinations."
If you throw the name Fred Vogel into any conversation about horror films,you're liable to hear a lot of varying opinions.Fans and supporters will have nothing but praise for the former instructor at Tom Savini's FX school-turned-director,and rightfully so,the guy's damned good at what he does.So good in fact,that it has brought him notoriety on occasion,getting his ass arrested for "smuggling obscene materials" and detained for ten hours on the way to a 2005 Rue Morgue convention in Canada,and getting the contents of his van seized,which included the entry we're discussing here and its predecessor.Conservative Kiwis in New Zealand have effectively banned all three of his AU films to date.So what's the big deal,query several wopophiles from the peanut gallery.Well let me tell you,kiddies.Other directors have tried to pinpoint the pulse of the realistic slasher film,pick the brain of the violent sociopath,but Vogel's gone a lot farther than that.He's opened the veins of the slasher flick and blocked the arterial spurt with his grinning face,he's bashed the serial killer's mind in with his trademark claw hammer,shouting obscenities and mugging for the video camera throughout the whole ordeal.And in the end you'll be disturbed,disgusted,shocked,violated,and feel as though you've been privvy to multiple real crimes against humanity.I think that's what Vogel set out to do with these films,and in your humble N's opinion,he's accomplished all that and more. Hang out with Fred,you're bound to get hammered.Really. Fred barges in on Maggot fucking Crusty.Fred's pissed off because Crusty is his girlfriend.He's even more pissed off because Maggot and Crusty are brother and sister.Eh,no matter.What's important is that the trio doesn't run out of victims.You see,they're serial killers who videotape their murderous spree of kidnapping,torture,murder,necrophilia,paedophilia...hell,even necrophilic paedophilia.These kids have a LOT of problems.Wanna hear about them?Too bad,I'm gonna tell you anyway.Crusty,when not cutting herself open to the delight of her bellicose beau, forces herself to upchuck on two bound,hysterical kidnapped female victims while Maggot tapes and Fred jostles himself and screams a lot.Everybody screams a lot.Later they force another roped and gagged gent in a wooden box to cut his own cazzo off with cuticle scissors.Crusty sucks the disembodied dick before forcing the dickless dude's girlfriend to masturbate herself with it.Had enough yet?After disemboweling another poor girl,Maggot mounts her gaping abdominal wound and rides the grue to glory.Oh,those crazy kids! You're gonna give yourself hemmorhoids,Maggot. When the trio pay a visit to a guy that looks an awful lot like Necrophagia leadman Killjoy(I knew he had to be a sick fuck!),they're treated to an entirely new cocophany of corpses and vivisected victims that includes a plastic drum with a headless,rotting infant in it.Not one to be outdone,Maggot pulls a handful of the garbage worms from the putrefying neck wound and eats them.Ready for that bucket yet?It seems that somewhere along the line,Maggot is rapidly losing the fingertip grip he has on reality,competing for the alpha male status that Fred has cemented for himself with hammer in tow,and also the amorous advances of his own sister,Crusty.In the outrageously vile finale,Maggot finds himself nailing the body of a pre-teen girl in the bathtub,punching her corpse in the ribs in between pelvic thrusts.Fred's busy cutting the throat of another girl he's stripped,hung upside down and fingerpainted in feces in the living room.He manages to drink a bit of the spurting blood from the slit before another fight ensues between he and Maggot.In the struggle,Maggot manages to wrestle the knife from Fred's hand and cuts his own throat with it before the screen cuts abruptly to snow.I'll get that bucket for you now.You might wanna run the bathwater as well,but trust me,it's not gonna wash off. ...Speaking of maggots,here's one baby that probably won't be colicky ever again. Between the startlingly realistic effects and the convincing performances given here,you will believe you've just been an accomplice to several of the most atrocious murders ever committed.The whole trilogy depends on those two factors entirely.If the effects fail,or one of the actors steps out of horrendous character even for an instant,the production takes a dump.As it stands,I might have happily reported that this occurs somewhere in the film,giving the knowing wink to its viewers,letting them rest easily.It doesn't.Once you've sit down to view for yourself,the images will follow you around for a good while afterwards.Vogel has created his own personal subgenre of horror film,and I can't honestly say it's at all an enjoyable one in any realm of good taste.He has since moved on to higher ground with "The Redsin Tower",which I'll inspect for you at a later date.As for this,it's totally awful.And brilliant at the same time.It merits: What do you call THIS game,kids?
Dire straits over here,droogies.My dvd drive is in the midst of a total dump,which puts a damper on culling screenshots for the very reviews you read here.The only thing I can liken it to,is watching a movie after overdosing on quaaludes.If you try and speed the playback up,it skips ahead to the end of the disc.As of right now,playing certain dvds is hit and miss,so what I can play I'll review until I can replace the whole computer.Eh,whattayagonndo? Antonio Margheriti was another Italian director whose body of genre work was enormous,from horror(Cannibal Apocalypse,Flesh for Frankenstein,Virgin of Nuremberg)to gialli(Naked You Die,Seven Deaths in the Cats Eye),and everything in between(Hercules Against Karate,The Last Hunter).This 1978 Margheriti vehicle incorporates elements of all his genre films,while avoiding classification in any of them,really.As such,it remains a rip-roaring good time,helped along by an interesting cast,which includes Lee "Six Million Dollar Man" Majors,Karen Black,James Franciscus,former Houston Oiler quarterback Dan Pastorini,and is topped off by a fabulous non-performance by model-turned-actress(?) Margaux Hemingway,long before Keanu Reeves first froze in front of a camera for a paycheck.And did I mention piranhas? A daring jewel heist with an exploding emerald mine power plant as the backdrop.Check. High roller,Paul Diller(James Franciscus)hires a group of jewel thieves,headed by Lasky(Lee Majors)and Diller's own girlfriend Kate(Karen Black), to stage a heist at a power plant outside an emerald mine in Brazil.The thieves set off multiple explosions inside the plant to divert the security guards while they slip in,in wet suits,and slip out with a fortune in gems.To avoid attention,they sink the stolen jewels in a waterproof box at the bottom of a local reservoir,to be retrieved in two months when the heat dies down.Diller,knowing the nature of his motley crew,has stocked the reservoir in advance with fifty pairs of man-eating red bellied piranha,which by now number in the tens of thousands,to ensure that none of the thieves lift the box from the water before the designated date.You know,I'll just bet some of the thieves are gonna get greedy and sneakily try and dive for the stones themselves,and instead,get the flesh stripped off their bones in seconds like the proverbial cow who's always stumbling into the Amazon River.In the meantime,an overweight effeminate photographer and his toothy subject(Hemingway) arrive at the same resort for a fashion shoot.Lasky throws on some clothes that would make a pimp blush,repeatedly lays his famous Bionic Man squint on her(what Majors calls "acting"), and successfully beds the model,to the disgust of Kate,who's rethinking her relationship with the unscrupulous Diller,that is,until he agrees to fish the gems out of the reservoir with her.A couple of men eaten alive?Nevermind all that. Dan Pastorini saw better days facing the Steel Curtain at Three Rivers Stadium,that's for sure. In the climactic finale,all the remaining players wind up on a sinking boat,in a lake filled with Diller's piranha when the dam breaks,leading to the little bastards gnawing on anyone who has the misfortune of contacting the water,including the rotund photographer,who seriously gets eaten for what seems like five onscreen minutes.They're swimming in and out of his cellulite,biting his worn out intestinal tract,he's flailing and mincing,splashing and bleeding.Good show,Antonio.It's no wonder that when Diller makes off with the stones AND the only life raft,the piranha only nibble at Lasky when he swims after him through the deadly waters,as,after all,too much ham will clog even the toughest fishy digestive system.So does Diller get away with the booty?Does Lasky blag them AND endure the company of the chicklet-toothed Gabrielle?Or does he dump the airhead in favour of crooked faced Kate and her annoying flesh-toned nylons?Can ANYONE endure Lasky's poor sense of dress and trademark quizzical tv-squint?Or do the piranha ignore the health warnings and chow down on every last piece of ham involved?Snag yourself a copy on DVD and find out for yourself! Lee Majors should have been nominated for an Oscar,keeping a straight face while wearing a hat like this like this. Margheriti's work,though uneven at times,never fails to entertain me.I used to watch this one on a regular basis on HBO in the black pirate cable box days,so revisiting it brought me back to that glorious era for a little while.Karen Black always puts on a game face,even if it IS a bit on the crooked side,while I'm still scratching my head as to how Majors and Hemingway ever made it to the big screen.Lee's got the squint,Margeaux has..well,even less than that.Her sister was great in Star 80,though she could have boosted her implants a smidgeon to get into Stratten territory(I had the Playboys growing up,so I fancy myself something of an expert on her pillowy dimensions!).You'll catch genre vet Anthony Steffen and tv's Gary Collins in the extras if you squint hard enough.There's enough grue to satisfy the gorenophiles,enough espionage to sate the action fans,and the Brazilian scenery isn't half bad either.The deAngelis brothers pile on the disco in the soundtrack,as is expected.Though it pales in comparison to fare like Cannibal Apocalypse or Seven Deaths in the Cat's Eye,it will manage to keep you amused,and if I'm wrong,let's remember that I'm NEVER wrong.Even when I'm wrong.Which is never,cos I never am(piss poor cult movie bloggers trivia scores aside!)!Score this one: These piranhas get bloated,munching on a diet of hammy actors.
Frosty'd freeze his snowballs off tonight.The upside of a negative ten degree wind chill outside,is that I'll be pacing the floors inside tonight,and more importantly,serving up exploitation flicks just the way you like 'em!I'm even cutting my cigarette breaks on the stoop painfully short,as chafed,windblown Wop may be one of the least sexy things you can possibly envision.First up?In hopes that Damian over at "Nature Run Amok" picks up his blogging gauntlets again one day,we're going to examine Lewis Teague's higly enjoyable reptilian camp-stravaganza,Alligator.Boasting of a bounty of b-movie players(that includes Michael "Godfather" Gazzo,70s tv staple Bart Braverman,Jack Carter,Sydney "Cuckoo's Nest" Lassick,and Dean "Game of Death" Jagger!),a witty script by John "Howling" Sayles,effective monster effects,and surprisingly,an adequate dosage of the red red kroovy,oh my brothers,this entry is a tasty little one indeed. Dead partners,bad combovers,and childish locker pranks.Detective Madison(Robert Forster)can't win for losing. Little Marisa Kendall's parents,ever the thoughtful pair,buy their daughter a baby alligator instead of that pony little girls always seem to be crying for.Her father,tired of cleaning gator shit(!) up around their apartment,flushes little "Ramon" through the toilet pipes and into urban legend territory.Over the next twelve years the alligator,unseen in the sewers below and sustained by a steady diet of dead dogs(you know,like the ones Steve Miner's Lake Placid(1999) blew?)pumped full of experimental growth hormones by Slade Pharmaceuticals,headed by unscrupulous miser Mr. Slade(natch,Dean Jagger),grows to thirty-five feet long and begins to see humans as walking penne arrabiata,much to the dismay of city Det. Madison(Robert Forster),an unlucky guy who sat there with his teeth in his yap when his old partner was killed on the beat right before his own glassies.As if Chicago didn't suck enough in the first place.First,creepy pet pusher Mr. Gutchel(Sydney Lassick) who's been catching and supplying the mutts for the laboratories,before dumping the hormone-laden evidence,falls prey to the behemoth beast.When Madison and a random volunteer cop descend into the sewers to investigate the mounting list of disappearances,Ramon drags off the badge in his hulking maw.Way to let another partner eat snapping primordial death without lifting a finger,jackass. Wendy O. Williams would think twice about wrasslin' this puppy. After a nosey reporter(Bart Braverman)gets his ass chomped every which way but loose and inadvertantly snaps pictures of his own death,the mayor(Jack Carter)enlists a big game hunter,Col. Brock(Henry "Rat Pack" Silva)to dispatch the drain-dwelling death dealer but after failing to impress a female news reporter with ridiculous impersonations of alligator mating calls(!!),he fails to keep himself out of the monster's jaws,being eaten whole in front of a posse of horrified homeboys.When Madison's investigation into the Pharmaceutical company reveals the mayor as a corrupt cotmate,he loses his badge.Ramon explodes through a sidewalk after a failed army flush out drives the gator to the surface,causing the titular terror to traumatize the whole town,and drop in on Slade's wedding party,eating the mayor and squashing the elderly tycoon in his limosine with his massive tail.Madison finally enlists the services of a skeptical herpetologist Marisa Kendall(Ramon's childhood owner,all grown up-like!Oh sweet irony...)and together prove to be the only two people in the Windy City with enough saavy to sink the scaly rascal for keeps.Elsewhere someone else is bunging another baby crocodillian down the lavvy,and potentially,we all know what that could mean... Col. Brock(Henry Silva),big game hunter and cocky cocksmith,says "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" to turn on a female reporter while tracking the goliath gator.His luck is bad. The dark humor in Sayles' writing really catapults this one above the standard killer animal fare of its day,like Tentacoli,Up From the Depths,Orca the Killer Whale,etc.There are several inside jokes and references to other films throughout for the viewer to catch,like one of the alligator's aptly named victims,Ed Norton,after the sewer worker from The Honeymooners.It eventually inspired the cleverly titled sequel,Alligator 2:The Mutation(1991),which I'll dissect here at a later date.As I mentioned in the Rogue review,giant alligators and crocodiles have certainly become a cult horror cash crop in the last decade or so,but it all started here,and it certainly holds up over multiple viewings,as I've scrutinized it under in the almost thirty years since its release.Pop it in and dig it immensely.The scale says: Ramon uses the mayor(Jack Carter) as a combination chew toy/battering ram with comic results.
In my pre-teen days of 1981,I moseyed on downtown on foot to catch this one at the legendary American Theater,scoring myself the notorious one sheet pictured above for a measly five extra clams.Black tape covered up the sections of the poster where the film's producers boasted of "Special Effects Director Tom Savini" and "From the man who terrified you with Dawn of the Dead and Friday the 13th" which Tommy successfully protested,though he did offer some help to the film's FX artist Ed French,as documented here but probably wasn't offered enough greenbacks for his expertise.They eventually removed the original one sheet altogether,opting instead for this one,which looks to depict a crazed sadistic Hillary Rodham Clinton(even more so than in real life,frighteningly)!Despite the half-assed posters and sassafras from Savini,Scavolini scored himself a memorable minor classic slice of the succulent sleazy slasher pie,cooling on the 80's windowsill,maintaining its shock value nearly thirty years later,pleasing discerning gornophiles worldwide. Georgie Tatum took whacks with an axe at the heads and necks of his parents having sex,the FX were paraded,causing this one to be released unrated. George Tatum wakes up to find he's sharing his bed with a decapitated head(I hate those mornings!), and then awakes again to discover it was only a horrible dream-within-a-dream.Damn you,Edgar Allen.He finds himself safe and sound,wrapped in a straitjacket,in an insane asylum.After pouring ample doses of experimental drugs down his gullet,which the doctors naturally assume have completely cured him of his ocean of mental problems,they logically unleash him on the unsuspecting populace. Tatum,a man after mine own bloodpump,wastes no time in his first order of business,naturally,hitting the nearest seedy 42nd street porno palace.Instead of drinking in the ample talents of the midtown hooker he's chosen,he instead opts to relive a double axe murder he committed as a child,causing his body to break into full uncontrollable spasm,shooting white froth from his twisted yap as he twitches on the ground.Hmmm,maybe those drugs weren't quite as effective as the doctors originally believed... Elsewhere in the sane world,we're introduced to the Temper family,headed by Susan,a woman who totally ignores her three horrible children who fight over burgers(!), in favor of boat outings with her hairy boyfriend,who resembles the result of cellular fusion experiments between James Brolin and Tommy Chong.The two daughters,Kim and Tammy,barely scrape the surface of horrible compared to their brother C.J.,who maps out elaborate gory pranks on his family,and looks to have majored in sociopath with a minor in bananas in elementary school.We're already cheering on Tatum's inevitable gore-soaked rendezvous with the Tempers before it even happens. This head has successfully been put to bed. Sure enough,Georgie leaves a wake of mutilated corpses in his travels south towards the family Temper,which couldn't happen soon enough at this point. Amidst the mounting body count,Tatum's doctors decide they may have fumbled the ball with their former patient,and decide to help track him down.George is wracked with guilt and remorse for his despicable deeds,but has no control over himself as he presses on,undoubtedly fucking mentally crackers. He manages to serial whack the Temper's sexually active babysitter and her boyfriend,but is shot dead by mini-nutjob C.J. before he can get his murder on with any of the family members.We're then treated to George's childhood flashback in its entirety,as young Tatum walks in on his parents in the throes of a fine afternoon of sado-masochism and bondage/discipline,lopping their domepieces off before they can enjoy their perversion any further.We soon find out that the serial killer is in fact the patriarch of the Temper family himself,on a mission to speed the horrible brood to the damnation of Hell with his own hands.So close,and yet so far.C.J. winks knowingly at the camera as the credits begin to roll. Once George rocked corny bow ties,now he's giving Columbian neckties. Director Romano Scavolini allegedly led a dual career,D'Amato-style,having a hand in porno flicks,and the seedy atmosphere of a two-tissue stroke flick permeates this whole production,combining with the extreme gore to create an unsettling viewing experience for any who may be interested.Non-actors delivering outrageous lines in a deadpan fashion only add to the legend surrounding this video nasty.For me,it's another bloody chapter in the formative years of an avid horror buff,and will always hold special memories for me.You may need a piping hot shower after screening it,but I'm confident you'll appreciate it yourself anyway.On the grand scale,it merits an overall score of: Scream all you want,Baird,you'll never work in this town again.
As you might have noticed,I've been on another unexpected sabbatical but the prodigal son has once again returned.The area's boys in blue,always enthused by your humble N's presence,pinched ol' Wop the day after Christmas ten minutes after smoking a cigarette on the front porch on a five year old probation violation bench warrant!Oh sweet irony!Lucky fuckers you are,the teflon emperor deftly avoided a 1-2 year sentence and now has (drumroll) an OFFICIALLY COMPLETELY CLEAN RECORD and is back on the case,bringing you the mad,the bad,and the wicked in bed cinematically here at Wopsploitation.I'll be drudging the swamps later on this weekend for some new reviews of movies that may or may not leave a taste in your mouth similar to what is described as "moon meat" on the weekly menu at Lackawanna Prison.Give me a day or two to enjoy cigarettes that have filters and come in packs,showers that arent crawling with flesh-eating bacteria,meals that don't cost the state forty cents a piece,and most importantly,time outside the stripey hole!