For the sake of made-for-television horror movies of the seventies, should an unknown alien intelligence possess a man-made instrument for diabolical purposes towards wiping out humankind on the planet Earth, it only stands to reason that it would inhabit the nearest diesel-powered D-9 bulldozer, capable of speeds upwards of twelve miles per hour...I'm guessing the producers of said entry had probably gone through several bottles of 1974 Cristal Brut Millesime and quaaludes by the handful to arrive at the idea of transforming a thirty year old Theodore Sturgeon novella into the 'Saturday Suspense Movie' on ABC, hoping modern audiences would stay glued to the wood grain floor model Zenith, buying into the idea that tv's macho types like Clint Walker and Robert Urich could be terrorized by a killer bulldozer.Yeah, a bulldozer, the bulky, immobile piece of machinery most people should be able to briskly power walk away from, only a damned fool would be unable to see the immeasurable genre potential here.Alan Alda and Randolph Mantooth simply didn't measure up against this blockbuster in the 8:30 pm timeslot.In all honesty, I probably appreciated the production more as a four year old in footie pajamas watching with my parents from the living room rug.In fact, I know I did, having christened my Tonka 'Killdozer' directly afterwards and forevermore.I don't think I even bothered with it much before I realized I could play-kill everyone in my imaginatively dark adventures with the damned thing.If you're currently laughing at how retarded the premise sounds, but thought nothing of buying a ticket to Stephen King's Maximum Overdrive twelve years later, give yourself a crackin' headbutt in the face from me, would you. The plummetting meteor hurled towards the prop globe at breakneck speed... ...it's destination, a remote island in the Pacific where some caterwauling hardhats attempt to shift it with their D9, awakening an alien intelligence inside the hunk of space rock, which then possesses the excavator as evidenced by the blue glow of each.Mack(Robert Urich) screams in terror, but for him, it's already too late, as his hardhat and ironic working-class name are no match for the radiation poisoning he's been fatally dosed with.He sputteringly manages to warn Kelly(Clint Walker), the foreman, about the bulldozer before his curtain drops.Naturally, Kelly initially scoffs at the notion that he and his crew are currently being systematically stalked by an evil bulldozer...or killdozer, if you will, but that's exactly what's happenin', Jackson.Forget that the earthmover's already slow traction is further prohibited by the island's sand, or that diesel fuel evaporates with usage, or that the loud-assed engine doesn't really allow for stealthy ops, these guys are effed with a capital F and there ain't no two ways about it.In the workers' favor, is the fact that when the killdozer is on the hunt, it's twin headlights eerily flash like animate eyes and an appropriately wacky synth-based Killdozer theme is played.Now, how could you miss something like that, I ask you.It's virtually impossible to fall prey to a big, clunky machine, right?Right?? Paying the bills isn't all Judy Landers' sequined mam-missiles and red '57 T-Birds afterall, eh, Urich? The black dude, Al(James Watson, Jr.), unwittingly finds himself hiding from Killdozer inside some metal piping directly in the evil earthmover's bloody path.Nice one, homeboy.Never to be outdone, Clyde stalls his car out, and instead of bailing out and making a run for it, he remains in the vehicle(right in front of the bulldozer) and repeatedly tries to turn the engine over.Gonna miss you guys.Finally, with just Kelly and Holvig(Carl Betz) still breathing, the men put aside their differences and combine their vast intellects in combatting the big 'dozer together, after an uninspiring square-off with the crane proves fruitless, with dialogue like:"Heeeey, wait a minute.Of course ya can't kill a machine! Don'tcha see our mistake??""Yeaaaaah."They decide that electrocution is the ticket for ol' Killy, then lure it into the generator-rigged trap, flicking the switch and watching it burst into flames as its devilish headlights finally flicker out for the last time.Got 'im!Afterwards, Holvig suggests that they tell the authorities their co-workers perished in a landslide, but Kelly nixes that idea."Nope.", he says."You gotta tell the truth."The truth of the matter is, I'm pretty relieved that this whole affair is finally over.Roll credits. The bulldozer turns in the best performance here.Just look at the grim pathos on it's face. Director London helmed episodes of Kojak, Marcus Welby, Baretta, Six Million Dollar Man, Harry O, Police Woman, Hawaii Five-O, and any other seventies shows worth mentioning, as well as the Shogun miniseries, which he bagged Emmys for.Killdozer remains unrecognized to this day.Walker would turn up in the made-for-tv Scream of the Wolf the same year, as well as 1977's Snowbeast, also a tv production.Urich went on to marry Heather Menzies of Sssssss(1974) and Piranha(1978) fame, and had a lengthy television career on shows like Vega$ and Spenser:For Hire before succumbing to cancer in 2002.Let's just hope everyone involved with this production moved on to bigger and better things.Of course, everybody knows there's nothing to be afraid of where construction equipment is concerned, unless you happen to be operating it under the influence of potentially deadly lithium crystals, or something.Emptyheaded(To call a Caterpillar sneaking up on somebody a stretch is an understatement, for sure) and lethargic in delivering the grainy VHS-ripped goods, 'dozer's brisk running time(just 74 minutes) allows for a singular stomp down memory lane, if nothing else.On the scale, it earns just one Wop from your favorite Terex Titan of genre reviews.Late! "Die from cigarettes?There's more chance of a bulldozer sneaking up on me..."
R.I.P. Arbogast on Film. Two years after giving the world nightmares with his brilliant cinematic portrait of a deranged family of unemployed cannibalistic cattle slaughterers, director Tobe Hooper served up tonight's entry as a sophomore effort, though not without some merit, it ultimately falls well short of its predecessor's dizzying levels of excellence.Hooper assembled an able cast of B-movie vets comprised of glorious villain Neville Brand, fresh off the success of the critically acclaimed 1974 telepic, Killdozer(okay, I'm kidding), Robert Englund(pre-cornball Freddy Krueger antics), Carolyn Jones(The Addams Family's Morticia in a late appearance), Kyle Richards, Mel Ferrer, Marilyn Burns, Roberta Collins, and Stuart Whitman to an atmospheric (and blatantly obvious)soundstage dressed to resemble an ominous backwoods fleabag motel on swamps that house an enormous African crocodile(also blatantly fake as nuts).Though tonight's feature, also known as 'Starlight Slaughter' and 'Death Trap' among other alternate titles, holds its own in the scare department, it also holds the dubious honor of being Hooper's follow up to TCM, perhaps accounting for audiences' tepid reception over the years.Despite a bigger budget than his previous effort, Eaten still has a phony 'television special' look about it that, for me, adds a certain stylish ambience to the formulaic blood n' boobs production that might turn other viewers off when they experience it.Don't let the fact that there are no screencaps of a shithouse rat-crazy Neville Brand waving a farmer's scythe around in the entry give you the wrong idea, his performance is incoherent mumbling lunacy that you oughta experience at least once in your life.Let's get to it... Clara(Roberta Collins) leaks some claret. Clara(Roberta Collins) is too prim and proper of a prostitute to let Buck(Robert Englund) access her back door, resulting in her madam, Miss Hattie(Carolyn Jones), showing her the front door, instead.Clara trudges through the woods to a dilapidated shack on the edge of the swamp that passes for the Starlight Hotel, as run by Judd(Neville Brand), a mumbling mental deficient with a wooden leg who's petting zoo is starving to death around him out of neglect(we watch a monkey give up the ghost inside its dirty cage).Once Judd identifies Clara as one of 'Miss Hattie's girls', he flips the fuck out and labonza-shanks her repeatedly with a pitchfork before chucking her remains over the porch railing to the waiting jaws of a huge African crocodile he keeps as a pet in the swamp behind the fence.Soon afterwards, a bickering, dysfunctional family and their pet dog pull up outside, in desperate need of lodging for the night, but Judd's croc swallows the pooch alive in front of the little girl's disbelieving eyes.After some heated arguing upstairs, the girl's father, Roy(William Finley), pledges to go out and shoot the croc(after mocking his daughter with pantomime dog barks and croc jaw snaps!), but Judd lays a righteous scythe upon him outside, and the croc, anxious for its next meal, smashes through the porch railing to snare the dying gent.Judd then interrupts the girl's mother, Faye(Marilyn Chambers), who's about to enjoy a relaxing bath in the unkempt washroom, with a hearty ass-beating before tying her to a bed.Little Angie(Kyle Richards) manages to escape the clutches of the hotel's psycho gimp and hide quietly among the rats and creepy crawlies under the darkened porch. There is no joy for annoying Roy(William Finley), now resigned to be a croc's chew toy. Meanwhile, Harvey(Mel Ferrer) arrives on the scene with Libby in tow, seeking the whereabouts of his other daughter, Clara, when Judd points the inquisitive family members towards Miss Hattie's brothel, which they pay a fruitless visit to with the local sheriff(Stuart Whitman).Libby accompanies the sheriff to the local drinking establishment for a bite to eat before backtracking to the hotel, but their meal is interrupted by an aniebriated Buck and his curvy arm decoration, Lynette(Janus Blythe), when a fight breaks out.Libby's father returns to the hotel and gets face-scythed after hearing the little girl under the porch crying for help.After the sheriff kicks the couple out, they pay the Starlight a visit, but when Buck hears Angie's whimpers and cries from under the porch, he goes out to investigate and gets pushed into the murky drink by Judd, who watches as his croc feeds once again.Lynette eludes the proprietor's scythe of judgment, and escapes into the woods, managing to flag down a passing car in the nick of time.Libby returns to discover Faye gagged and bound to the bed and frees her while Judd is busy opening the gate downstairs to allow his crocodile access to its next prepubescent meal under the place.Faye and Libby make a break for it but get chased back upstairs by a howling, scythe-wielding Judd, who wounds Faye with the farming tool and throws her off the balcony.Meanwhile, Libby has helped Angie to get out of the swamp, and when Judd tries to push her back in, he gets flipped in himself by Faye, who watches as the hillbilly's homicidal pet clamps down on the final victim of the evening, and a prosthetic leg floats to the surface.Roll credits. So glad you decided to stay, Faye(Marilyn Burns). Brand would later turn up in Without Warning(1980), and Evils of the Night(1985).Janus Blythe, who looks especially backwoods-delectable here, would next appear in Wes Craven's cult classic, The Hills Have Eyes(1977), as the memorable Ruby character.Englund, another favorite, is entertaining to watch, long before being typecast as a supernatural burn-scarred serial killer who spouts corny one-liners as he pops out of your dreams.Jones would only act in one more movie, doing some television work before succumbing to cancer in 1983.Exploitation staple, Roberta Collins went on to appear in things like Whiskey Mountain(1977), Saturday the 14th(1981), and Death Wish II(1982).Marilyn Burns, always luscious lens candy in every role, doesn't purvey fear as intensely here, as opposed to TCM.There I go, making that inevitable, unfair comparison again.I really don't think this one's as bad as some folks would have you believe; what it is, is standard stalk 'em n' kill 'em fare, an average follow up to a masterpiece, which only further pales it in comparison and detracts from its overall popularity.As such, two Wops sounds about right when laying down the verdict from the glorious scale.Worth a look. Plucked from a righteous jailbait date, Buck(Robert Englund), out of luck, gets (proper)fucked.
Whether you've been nice or naughty(which is nicer than nice in my book, anyways) thus far this year is irrelevant, as I've got a shabby little low-budgeted goodie for that busted tube sock precariously draped over your faux fireplace mantle from the seventies, as directed by none other than the late genre icon, David A. Hess himself.Now, before you go rushing to hand me off that prohibition-era fruitcake that's been evolving in the darkness of your cupboard in return, let me first state for the record:To All a Goodnight isn't one of the better Christmas-based slashers ever made; in fact, it's low end all the way, with precious little holiday feel(Sorry, Cali, but your palm trees and sunshine don't exactly evoke visions of Anderson's Den Lille Pige med Svovlstikkerne for me at all), zero suspense, choppy uneven pacing, a gratingly rotten musical score, and even worse lighting.It's no wonder that Hess never took the director's chair again during his long career in film and television, it looks like Murphy's Law took hold of this production from the start, strangling it until it was hardly discernible from hundreds of other pedestrian slashers.Of course, if you're up for bearing witness to a spate of pedantic-yet-pulchritudinous people biting the dust(at the hands of FX goremeister, Mark Shostrom) and little else, you might come away from this one less dissappointed than I was the first time I sat through it.Contrary to popular interwebs tube legend, Hess doesn't appear in front of the lens here, though legendary porn cocksmith Harry Reems turns up briefly as an airplane pilot and Hess' sister Judy cameos as Mrs. Ronsoni.The derivative script(think Prom Night over the Christmas holiday), was penned by Alex Rebar, the star of 1977's Incredible Melting Man.Like the impatient streetwalker says to the john fumbling with his button flys, "Let's make it, already!" "I got your fuckin' smart phone...right here!" The girls of Calvin Finishing School plan to spend their Christmas break getting laid, slipping their housemother a mickeyed milk and inviting a throng of fuck-starved males over for some decadent eighties-style partying, except, at this very house two years earlier, also over Christmas break, a young initiate lost her life during a hazing-gone-wrong doing a concrete swandive(in front of a lens gooped up with enough Vaseline to make Bob Guccione blush) off of a balcony to incidental disco synths.I just bet those gloved hands holding a knife and a framed picture of the dead chick are gonna be involved in an upcoming bloody plot of vengeance against the callous, superficial bitches responsible for her wrongful death.Cynthia breaks out her bobblers before getting knifed in the breadbasket when she goes out to meet her boyfriend, who'd joined the choir invisible himself just moments earlier, off-camera.That which might pass for dialogue if delivered by actual actors in another, better movie gets further diced into incoherence by an amateur editor.A gardener(Fast Ralph, mind you, not Crazy Ralph) who carries hedge shears professes his love for cherry pie and Nancy(Jennifer Runyon), too.A piper cub touches down in a day-for-night sequence bringing male victims who pull rank on the pilot(Harry Reems), forcing him to stay with the plane and miss out on the festivities.One jagoff croons an off-key tune while strumming an acoustic twanger and his nearsighted dork-pal spews medical inanities as a thick slut gets her throat slit by the refrigerator light from a Santa-suited psychopath.Fast Ralph warns Nancy to go to bed and lock her door, because "the devil's here"(I think he meant 'boredom'). "I wanna hold ya, 'til the fear in me subsiiiiiiiiiiiides!" One of the jagoffs goes off on his own and gets himself smooshed by a huge Santa-powered boulder, while the nerd scores a piece of charity puss from Melody("That's one interesting tune", he later remarks) and the virginal Nancy sips milk while peep-tomming one of the copulating couples from outside their bedroom window.Santa jams an arrow through the back of the skull of one lad, mid-fuck, before chopping his lady's domepiece off directly afterwards.Bloop, bloop, bloop goes the head.Ralph pays Nancy a midnight bedroom visit, and, fearing for her safety, pitches her a bible.The next day brings a picnic in the grass featuring the surviving partiers, where Ralph turns up deceased with a bloody forehead.Sheriff Polansky(!) makes the scene, leaving two horny cops behind to watch over the doomed, talky kids.One inquisitive cop takes an axe to the skull.The nerd and the virgin form a search party and explore the shadows together.Then he tries boring her to death with his back story by the fireplace.Another moralistic lass named Leia dukes the remaining cop then finds her girlfriend's decapitated dome stuck on the shower head while her lover stumbles around with a Bowie knife jutting out of his back.Another sorry bastard gets an extra mouth from Santa for Christmas as his girl escapes in time to team up with the virgin/dork and discover the carnage upstairs in the bed and bath, bumping into Leia, who's in shock, pirouetting around in circles and humming incessantly.Santa shows up and reveals himself to be Mrs. Jackson(!!), the middle-aged mother of the dead girl from the...yeah, her.She purees Tricia and the pilot with the airplane propellor(cue:juicy sack of innards splashing the windshield) and after a suspenseless five minutes of cat n' mouse with Nancy in the shadows, manages to take a flopper off the exact same balcony that snuffed her daughter two years earlier.Her husband carries her broken body inside(note:he's also in a Santa suit), but gets crossbowed in the kidneys by Alex the nerd before he can take revenge for his wife and daughter.The wallflowers run off into the night, leaving Leia madly dancing on the balcony. I'm always up for some head in the showers, but this is ridiculous. I could tell Hess didn't hold tonight's entry very high on his lifetime accomplishment list when I brought the idea of covering Goodnight here at the Wop up to him, some two years or so ago, and he responded with: "Let's talk football tonight, Stefano.What do you think about Milan's chances this season?"Let it be known that Orgasma, my naked porcelain water pipe/sweetheart had to be packed and repacked multiple times to offset the migraine headache I was getting from straining my eyes to see the action that may or may not have transpired in front of Hess' lens tonight.As therapeutic as my medication sessions usually are, they didn't change my outlook on this one all that much.Dreadfully standard in approach, execution, and angle, the one saving grace for Hess completists is the tell-tale David-esque dialogue, probably his own script re-writes, that comes out of the characters throughout the picture.Even Shostrom's effects work is marred by shitty lighting and dull axe-edits.On the scale, Goodnight finds a single Wop under it's Christmas tree, a boring cinematic coal lump. "They say you always remember your first time, and you will remember Santa, won't you!"
When it comes to dancing, I'm pretty indifferent about it unless it involves a circle pit or a private lap dance, but that's just me... a single voice adrift in an ocean full of motherfuckers who think they can dance with the stars, leaping across the stage like a vasectomized Errol Flynn on Christopher Street.Though thirty plus million of you might entertain a difference of opinion on the subject, I'm sticking to my guns over here.Thirty years ago, dancing was just as big as the silk butterfly collars and platform heels guys would throw on in hopes of scoring some trim from a hot-to-trot chick with a Dorothy Hamill hairdo and a rayon jumpsuit, and disco still hadn't officially flatlined at the outset of the decade, enjoying a late surge with the 'roller disco' phenomenon, as evidenced by Linda Blair's Roller Boogie(1979) effort and Skatetown U.S.A. the same year.Tonight's entry started out as a cash-in attempt on that particular craze, but veered off into fantasy/musical waters before the project's completion instead, and the rest, as they say, is a failure of truly epic fucking proportions.With Travolta unavailable for the lead male role, the producers turned to Michael Beck, of The Warriors(1979) fame.Also lending his legendary twinkletoes to the production was singer/dancer extraordinaire, Gene Kelly, who shakes his aging groove thing to a soundtrack(an admittedly pretty killer one) provided by E.L.O. frontman Jeff Lynne, whose afro was not a thing easily scoffed at.I'm overjoyed at the fact that I was too young to have had to bear witness to this ham-fisted craptacular on a date/feelings endurance test with some eager makeout recipient, and I pass on to you that, unless you're a skirt-wearing Mary or some other such frail pansy, you're not gonna enjoy Xanadu's hokey Tron-esque neon visual effects or roller disco romance very much. By Crom, what manner of neon-aura surrounds you as you boogie, Valeria?!! A starving artist named Sonny(Michael Beck) chucks his latest failure out a window where the wind catches and carries it into an alleyway adorned by an intricate mural of the Nine Greek Muses that suddenly comes to neon-enshrouded life to Solid Gold-style boogie to E.L.O. tunes.Among these inspirational beauties is Kira(Olivia Newton-John), who teleports into Sonny's life as a ball of light, appearing to him as a roller skater on the boardwalk and the subject of album art he's been hired on to reproduce and enlarge.While beachcombing, he bumps into a clarinet-blowing dotard with a gleam in his eye, named Danny McGuire(Gene Kelly), before spotting his rollerskating reverie, and stalking her to the condemned Pan Pacific Auditorium, where he can observe her practicing her skate routines from the shadows, all creepy-like.Before too long, the old guy is inviting Sonny back to his mansion to listen to records and reminisce about his glory days in the big band jazz era, segueing into a musical number where Danny cuts the choreographed rug with some transparent ghosts, one of which bears a striking resemblance to Sonny's love interest, Kira.If that sequence didn't give you diabetes mellitus, Kira soon accompanies Sonny to a soundstage dressed with various hokey props for use in a Peter Pannishly embarrassing display of rollerskateage-on-wires.They return to the Auditorium, where Kira suggests the building could be the perfect location for the nightclub the old man's been kicking ideas of opening up around."I think this place could be anything you want it to be.", she says, although I must have missed the part where she adds, "...even a gaudy roller disco!" I've got my mallet raised, the gong's in plain sight... When Sonny shows the place to Danny, it cues another lengthy musical number, this time a forties big band is contrasted against an eighties new wave outfit, headed by Tubes frontman Fee Waybill in an orange jumpsuit, before the whole event turns up into a crazy mixed-up party exactly how you thought it might have!Kira suggests the name Xanadu and the couple goes off to celebrate Sonny's new partnership with Danny, and when they kiss they're magically transformed into Don Bluth-style animated fish and lovebirds after frollicking atop a rosebud.One musical ridiculous outfit-changing montage for Danny later, and Xanadu is open for business.Kira confesses that she's a Greek Muse who's fallen in love with a mortal then teleports back to Olympus.Sonny discovers the alley with the mural from the opening while rollerskating, and skates directly through it, a portal to the gods that preside over Neon Heaven, where Zeus denies Sonny's pleas for one more night of mortality for his love.Back at the club, the geryatric Danny leads a rollerskate chorus line of jagoffs around the place while jugglers chuck bowling pins at him amidst the heavy boogieing of surrounding disco dancers.Kira emerges, apparently on heavenly reprieve, to sing several songs complete with intricate costume change gamut(why is it, that any Olivia Newton-John movie of the era felt it necessary to transform her from wholesome sweetheart to skeevy slut by the final reel?Any ideas?) run from eighties satin baseball jacket to fringey cowgirl to cheap prostitute, before being abruptly zapped back to Olympus.Bummed that his muse chose to boogie in a beaded wig rather than lay the otherworldly snatch on him on her final night on earth, Sonny is alerted to a cocktail waitress who looks like...no, it couldn't be.Awwwww, isn't that a cute story?Yeah, I'll be french-kissing a pail over in the corner, if you're looking for me. He's professing eternal love to you from atop a rose's petals, that pussy. After directing this stink-loaf, Greenwald helmed the legendary 1984 NBC spousal abuse telepic, The Burning Bed, with Farrah Fawcett and Paul Le Mat, before spinning off out of control in a tragically left-wing documentary sort of way.Newton-John would pair up again with Travolta in 1983's Two of a Kind, another romantic fantasy movie I don't care if I ever see, to be honest with you.Pittsburgh native Kelly would follow up his return to the marquee here with a two part episode of the Love Boat.Four years later.Beck would reprise his role as Swan in The Warriors in 2005 voicing the part for the movie-based video game.This was the first time I'd seen this thing since the cable box days, and even under severely altered states, it hurt like a bitch to get all the way through.On the scale, one lousy Wop for the groovy soundtrack.There's not even one stinking boob in the whole movie.Steer clear. This screencap takes me back to certain booze-drenched 80's dance-offs in Emmaus.
Though the Japanese use 'hentai' as slang meaning pervert, and rarely ever to describe the type of offering we're examining here tonight(ero anime, some would label it), it doesn't hurt to be a massive pervert yourself if you're going to check out Takayama's classic early animated mixture of explicit bloodshed and sex.Even if you were, chances are, you'd still be understandably mind-blown coming away from such a carnally corrupt cartoon as this.Think Dragonball Z, except it's got bespectacled schoolmarms sprouting hundreds of forty foot long tentacle cocks that suspend a spreadeagle cheerleader in mid-air while poking, prodding, and raping her in every orifice in her body before pulling out and spurting glowering demon-spunk all over her face, instead of kung fu kids and dragon orbs.I can still remember how my buddies and I got ripped up watching a bootlegged Japanese language vhs with no English subs back then, then splitting a side hearing voice actors boldly declare "You fucking monster, not only do I have your sperm I've got your blood too!" in the Central Park Media edited movie release, until in 2000, when a copy of UROTSUKIDOJI Perfect Collection turned up at a Kim's Video in the city and ended up in my bookbag full of shwag from the evening.Said out-of-print collection includes the three original OAV's, Birth of the Overfiend, Curse of the Overfiend, and Final Inferno, as well as the two follow-ups, Legend of the Demon Womb and Battle at the Shinjuku Skyscrapers, for two hundred-fifty minutes of cartoon chaos, though the latter two episodes are censor-fogged and shabbily animated in comparison to the original three, all in Japanese with English subtitles. Late for class and facially splashed with day glo tentacle cock goo, it must be one of those days. Over some literally hellacious fucking(I noticed one succubus with about six tits), we're told how every three thousand years, the three worlds of demons, beast-men, and humans are united by the birth of the overfiend or Chōjin, not a very nice chappie at all.Sent by the beast-men to ensure the safety of the worlds is Amano Jyaku, sort of a whiskered Johnny Depp-looking cat that can fly.Accompanied by his nymphomaniacal sister, Megumo, and Kuroko, a little roundheaded bastard that can also hover, the three converge on Myōjin University with a vibe that the apocalyptic god is near.Amano thinks that Ozaki, a homoerotic jock meathead that cuts through the local girls three at a clip, is the mortal host in question, while Megumo bets that it's Nagumo, a harmless panty-sniffing dork who's in love with Akemi, the pig-tailed cheerleader with massive mams.Ozaki's latest ménage à quatre is rudely interrupted by demons who slaughter his fuck toys before transforming him into one, in the process(helped along when he licks Nagumo's blood after braining him with a basketball in the gymansium).Amano destroys the lupine beast in a rooftop battle, also putting his suspicions to rest.Meanwhile, Akemi is being tentacle raped by a demon disguised as one of the teachers, rescued after the fact by Amano and Nagumo, her new beau and protector.After using a pair of ice cream cones to unwittingly remind his girlfriend that she was violated in every hole by a horny monster, Nagumo gets himself smashed by an oncoming vehicle in traffic and dies.In the hospital morgue, his corpse reanimates and rapes a night nurse, his ejaculate causing her body to explode in a downpour of organs(!), before matamorphosizing into the massive, winged Chōjin, whose tentacled dicks swallow people whole and shoot laserbeams from the cockholes(!!), destroying everything in sight, as Amano, Megumo, and Kuroko witness from the safety of an orb of energy in the sky above. "It's a fucking class ring, it's gotta be in here...can't just vanish into thin air!!" In a flashback, we see Amano squaring off against his rival, the boyfriend of the Queen of Demons, Suikakujū, who's looking to destroy the Chōjin, but is ultimately defeated.We're then introduced to another terminal wally named Niki, who's abused by his parents and pale foot fetishistic dames alike, until some demons make the scene and offer him some real man action if only he kills his dysfunctional folks, and, uh, chops off his own cock with a butcher knife.Yeaaaah, skip that, fellas.Anyway, he does the deeds and is rewarded with a massive, flashing, prehensile techno-demon wang but when he testdrives it with some local sluts, it melts off(!).Meanwhile, the beast-siblings fly Akemi and Nagumo to their world to consult with the Elder who foresees the coming devastation and banishes the group back to the human realm.Niki cockblocks Nagumo as he's trying to finally consumate his relationship, and steals his girl, licking Nagumo's sperm off of Akemi's face(bleech), which causes his dick to grow back to powerhose length as he uses it to swing away with(!!).At a construction site, Niki and Nagumo go toe to toe in monster form, but Niki is no match for the Overfiend, and gets himself eviscerated.Akemi is suddenly overcome with emotion over the dead nerd, who, it turns out, also had a crush on her.Amano returns to his realm, where the Elder shows him the prophetic images of the coming of the Chōjin, and the catastrophe in his wake.How is Chōjin supposed to unite the three worlds by destroying them?Will the ever-horny Megumi ever meet a demon that doesn't explode into smoldering flesh-chunks upon her orgasm?Will Nagumo and Akemi ever get the chance to simply get laid with no crazy stuff attached?All these questions and more will be answered when you check this one out! "Casting a spell, leather and Hell, black metaaal gods' rock n' rolllllll!" Overfiend spawned a whole new generation of hellish hentai titles from the Rising Sun, like Angel of Darkness, Demon Beast Invasion, Venus 5, and one of my favorites, Oni-Tensei, where a broad's ogre back piece tattoo comes to life, splattering anyone who'd dare fuck with her, and raping the chicks up, large style, as well as six new Urotsukidoji series since.Apparently, the anime are far more depraved and graphic than the manga they're based upon.As staggeringly sex-drenched as these affairs are, I honestly doubt anybody'd let a lubed-suzie rip watching them, apart from your random sloppily overweight forty-eight year old anime dork/virgin subsisting on Mt. Dew Game Fuel and fapping off in his momma's basement to photoshopped nude jpegs of Slave Leia, but that's just meanspirited conjecture from yours cruelly, over here.Take the head mic off, oxy-cute that face fulla zits, and do some push ups, Eggbert, and you might even score a real live human female someday.Just sayin'.As excessive as the decade it came from, Overfiend makes for a pretty good viewing experience, especially if you've never seen it before, and merits three Wops on the scale, missing out on perfection due to the inclusion of the two lesser episodes on the disc that actually detract from the greatness of the first three.If you're half as twisted as I am, you'll love it.If you're a prudish, skirt-wearing Nancy, you'll be well-offended.Recommended. "Time to destroy the world with my laser-penises...time to destroy the world with my laser-penises..."
During my adolescent years, I first got wind of this strange and controversial Yugoslavian rarity through one of the VHS bootleggers I used to deal with, and my curiosity was further sparked by later mentions from trusted genre writers in various publications I regularly flipped through.It wasn't until last night, though, when I finally got the opportunity to screen this one for myself, thanks to the folks at Criterion and Doc's all-encompassing current NetFlix queue.If you're not into all the footage of exhumation of the 22,000 estimated mass graves containing Polish nationals executed by Russian troops on the order of Joseph Stalin contained within, there's always plenty of simulated and unsimulated coprophilia, emetophilia, genital fondling, teat-suckling, and implied paedophilia for you to wrap your glassies around, and if there's one thing that enhances a movie experience, it's seeing John "Animal House" Vernon pissing on-camera out of his erect dick, painted gold for effect.Yeah, not really.Anna Prucnal, the blonde actress who's center of the second narrative, which Makavejev was forced to write when lead actress Carol Laure up and quit after having to fondle a guy's bare uncircumsized junk on-screen (the last straw for her, after enduring several unsavory acts her character performs in the script), was banned from re-entering her native Poland for years after authorities deemed the movie both pornographic and anti-communist in nature.C'mon fellas, those are two of my own finest qualities.Though I was mostly unimpressed with the movie, there are some brilliant sequences with rich visual style contained herein that I'd be upset about never getting to experience if I hadn't watched in the first place.So effective, they are, that I'd revisit them separately in the future.Forwards towards, me hearties. "Why you gotta flash me yer beaver, lady?Can't you see I'm on the shoe?" First, we're introduced to Miss Canada(Carol Laure), as she wins a Most Virginal contest, as determined by a gynecologist on stage(Miss Yugoslavia is a burly broad who body slams him into the examination chair), winning a lucrative marriage to an eccentric milk tycoon named Mr. Kapital(John Vernon) who introduces her to the joys of matrimony on their wedding night by whipping out his gold-painted hard on and taking a whiz on her while his creepy old mother and a band of hippes garbed like religious leaders serenade the couple from outside.Embarrassed by Dean Wormser's weiner, she relates a desire to split to Kapital's mom who nearly drowns her before leaving her to the black musclehead(Roy Callender) who serves as family bodyguard.He jumps rope naked and stuffs her into a suitcase(!), which ends up on the Eiffel Tower, where a film starring a Latin lothario named El Macho(Sami Frey) is being filmed.She soon falls prey to his animal magnetism and they have sex right there on the landmark, but a group of touring nuns interrupt their coitus and scare them into a state of penis captivus(he gets stuck inside her!!).After being freed from the ahem, liplock, by French painter/writer Roland Topor, she finds herself in a therapy commune of artists led by Otto Muehl, where she breastfeeds from a lactating hippie, and after a particularly gross meal sans utensils, one of the other members experiences a rebirth of sorts, crying like a baby, pissing and shitting while the others pamper him.Finally, we see her writhing naked in a pool of liquid chocolate for a film crew.Clearly, this is not an ad for Godiva chocolates...or is it. Choleric over her character's on-camera uncut cock-coddling, Carole was compelled to quit. The second intercut narrative deals with a failed communist revolutionary named Anna Planeta(Anna Prucnal), who captains a massive, gaudy boat full of candy (with an enormous papier-mache Karl Marx head on the prow, mind you) down a river, where she spots a sailor named Potemkin(Pierre Clémenti) pissing in broad daylight on the shore and opts to give him a lift.After they reminisce and joyously sing old commie songs together, she warns him not to fall in love with her, else she'll be forced to kill him.Potemkin ignores her warnings and pleas to leave the ship, and ends up putting the blocks to her in a hanging nest full of sugar, after which she bites his granule-covered skin, drawing blood, and shanks him in the labonza repeatedly, twirling the blade and mixing the sweet substance with his red red kroovy.She warned you, pal.Her next passengers are a group of adolescent boys who she seduces with candy, stripping off her garments and teasing them with her nakedness.In the end, she's apprehended and hauled off by the authorities as police officers lay plastic sacks containing the childrens' lifeless bodies on the shore in front of a crowd of terrified onlookers.Later, when the crowd has dispersed, we see the children rising from the plastic like butterflies from their cocoons, reborn. Potemkin(Pierre Clémenti)'s pelvis is promptly perforated while plunged in a cistern of sugar. Say what you will about Sweet Movie, but you could never accuse it of being boring.A little excessive, like locking yourself in the hall closet with a box of candy bars, but those aforementioned sequences make it a worthwhile viewing, both visually stunning and thought provoking(I got a kick out of the vintage stock footage of baby gymnastics.Baby gymnastics, really?), truly a tightrope balance of exploitative elements and museum quality art.Definitely not for everyone, especially not those individuals whose minds are on lockdown from the bizarre, perverse, and the absurd.Laure's choco-nudity is liable to leave you Yugo-slobberin' for more, while Prucnal's scene with the boys will most likely disturb you deeply.Or leave you itchy, one or the other.Both women have gone on to successful singing careers, with Laure continuing to act in French television and films all along.On the scale, it earns two Wops, mainly because I can't see myself ever compelled to watch it again for any reason.After seeing it once, I can't imagine many of you will either. If they made this outta chocolate, I'd be in a hyperosmolar nonketotic coma by now.
Only in glorious Italy, my friends.Only in Italy.On several occasions in the past, we've examined several Jaws rip-off paroxysms from the boot, but tonight, we'll be looking at a King Kong rip-off instead, a mediterranean movie miscarriage so farcically inept, it almost makes the turgid-budgeted 1976 DeLaurentiis remake seem exceptional in comparison.Overseeing the project from the director's chair was Gianfranco Parolini, whose previous spaghetti western and sword and sandal credits included the impressive Sabata(1969), Adios Sabata(1971), and La furia di Ercole(1962), and who duplicated DeLaurentiis' construction of a massive and expensive animatronic robot that ends up seeing precious little screen time in the finished product.Instead, Parolini enlists Italian television actor Mimmo Crao to portray the titular snowman, who kind of looks like E.L.O. frontman Jeff Lynne circa the On the Third Day(1973) album, wearing only spirit-gummed crepe wool and a smile.The entire production is plagued with ubiquitous hokey movie scientifics and ineffective blue screen effects, where the yeti(who's got his own horrible, dated disco theme, as performed by the Yetians, mind you)can be anywhere from ten to a thousand feet tall, depending on the shot composition.Continuity?We don't need no stinkin' continuity.Add a supporting cast of bad dialogue-spewing comic book characters, headed by Antonella Interlenghi, who would later turn up as a teenaged teleporting flesh-chewer in Lucio Fulci's Paura nella città dei morti viventi(1980), and who really shoulda known better here, to be honest.Can't blame her for going by the screen name 'Phoenix Grant' on this one.More embarrassingly bad than those checked polyester curtain pants my parents had the balls to dress me in towards the end of the seventies, and though pictures of those babies may have thankfully disappeared over time, prints of this cinematic eyesore are still out there, floating around, and causing riotous unintentional laughter among the audiences ridiculous enough to sit through it, your humble narrator included.Onwards! "He is sooo big, the man of snow.But he won't harm you, the yeee-tiii!"Come on, you know the words, people. After watching some modestly impressive stock footage of glacial ice breaking off and being carried off into the sea, we meet Professor Wasserman(John Stacy), who's asked by an industrialist named Hunnicut(Eddie Faye) to head off an expedition to the coast of Newfoundland to humanely study the enigmatic Yeti(Mimmo Crao), discovered lodged in a capacious chunk of ice."An avalanche probably caught him while he was sleeping on the ice millions of years ago...then perhaps an earthquake caused the ice to break up and fall into the Arctic Ocean.", surmizes the professor, while Hunnicut declares the frozen fella to be the new Hunnicut Enterprises trademark, since nothing says 1970's multi-national corporation like an ice-encrusted crypto-hominid giant, really.Hunnicut's grandkids, Jane(Antonella Interlenghi) and her effeminate mute brother, Herbie, also oversee 'Operation Yeti', which, after extensive flamethrowers melt the bulk of the outer layers of ice off of the snowman, escalates to packing him into a massive plexiglas phone booth as towed by helicopter to 10,000 feet, where he can thaw the rest of the way, and comfortably at that, at the altitude of his native Himalayas.After several obvious shots of a model helicopter flying with a miniature yeti doll hanging below, the missing link grumpily awakens from his million year slumber with a booming scream that almost knocks his toy airlift out of the sky.Back on terra firma, Yeti breaks the fuck out like the shingles to the stupefaction of onlooking media types and lab coats in attendance, carrying off Jane and Herbie into the Canadian wilderness in the process.Jane's touch gives the Yeti an erect nipple(!), and he repays her by catching fish for them to eat, while Herbie's collie, Indio, trots off to find the professor.When he arrives, he sees the yeti using fish bones to comb Jane's hair while she uses hairspray to tend to the beast's wounds."Yeti, come!", she says, and the big lug bats his eyelashes at her flirtingly, apparently comprehending a language like English perfectly already.Phew... Put it on a hanger right next to your "I'm With Stupid" tee in the nostalgia closet. Not wasting a moment, Hunnicut launches a huge publicity campaign, consisting of cheap iron-on "Kiss Me Yeti" t-shirts and drivers refueling their vehicles being encouraged to "Put a Yeti in your tank and you'll have giant power!".In Toronto, Yeti is greeted by a parade(cue:awful disco theme), then makes his media debut atop one of Hunnicut's hotels where paparazzi flashbulbs whip him into a Kong-style frenzy where the ensuing chaos traps Jane in a glass observation elevator, which Yeti plays with like a yo-yo(!) by yanking the cables from above, before saving her from plummetting to her demise and strolling off through the city streets with the girl(or an unreasonable toy facsimile thereof) in his massive mitt.“If the Yeti doesn’t get oxygen within the next ten minutes he’ll die!”, Wasserman surmises, before being beaten to death by a couple of thugs paid by one of Hunnicut's rivals(Tony Kendall) in front of the Yeti's eyes, as he's ducked into a warehouse away from the local police force.Not content to stomp these bastards, Yeti uses his toes to strangle one of the men instead(!!).Herbie is held at gunpoint(Who's he going to tell, the kid's a mute, remember?) and his dog Indio is shanked while trying to guard the children.Yeti smashes through the warehouse wall just as the head baddie is about to C.T.F.O. Jane, forcing him to drive off with Herbie as a hostage.Yeti throws trees and boulders to nullify the other goons in cars, and scares the final carload of cohorts into falling off a cliff(!!!).After rescuing Herbie, he's attacked by a construction crane(or a Tonka-produced facsimile thereof) which he flips over, finally putting the fatal boot, extra large-style, to the last evildoer."This world is not for you. Go back to the wilderness, to the mountains, where life is like you knew it.”, Jane tells the Yeti, who sheds a single tear as he lumbers off into the forest as a bark is heard in the distance.You guessed it, Indio pulled through, afterall, and the movie ends with the boy and his dog running at each other in slow motion like a couple of love-smitten fools.Somebody fetch me a bucket. "Eh!C'è ne di voi leccapiedi quello è giù là hanno soldi per il telefono?" Recorded off of a late Saturday night television broadcast on Channel 29(shoulda left the eighties commercials in, might have been more entertaining), as evidenced by the tracking problems in the screencaps, and ripped to dvd, I'm sure my copy of this epic failure could be upgraded by now with a Pal region special edition or some such nonsense, but I'd rather spend my dough on smokes, choice hallucinogenics, or rad inked up women of low moral fiber at this point.I know how to live, motherfuckers.Asie from the aforementioned titles, Parolini also directed things like Diamante Lobo(1975), È tornato Sabata... hai chiuso un'altra volta(1971), and Se incontri Sartana prega per la tua morte(1968).In fact, eleven years would pass before he took the chair again after this movie, and that adventure, Alla ricerca dell'impero sepolto(1988), would be his last to date.Interlenghi would keep busy throughout the eighties, in fare like La Cage aux Folles 3: The Wedding(1985), but most recently appeared in an Italian television mini-series a few years ago.Crau, who would appear as Thaddeus in the Jesus of Nazareth mini-series the same year, has also enjoyed extended success on Italian television ever since.Let's hope he's gotten a haircut and put some clothes on in the years that followed.Kendall, born Luciano Stella, scored genre credits in movies like The Whip and the Body(1963), El ataque de los muertos sin ojos for Amando De Ossorio in 1973, and Las garras de Lorelei the following year.On the scale, Yeti's a one Wopper all the way, but as you can probably tell, it makes for pretty entertaining one-off viewing under the right circumstances. "Lynyrd who just crashed a Convair CV-300 into my sauce bag??!!".
With their studio doing erratic business as the sixties drew to a close, Hammer turned to a former rival, American International, to finance their latest production, a gothic mix of vampires and lesbianism based upon a novella by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu called Carmilla, first published in 1872(predating Stoker's Dracula by a quarter century).The end result being The Vampire Lovers, the first of the studio's Karnstein vampire trilogy, starring exotic Polish beauty, Ingrid Pitt, of Hammer's Countess Dracula(1970) fame, as the pale-skinned temptress who, like in the book, takes the form of a massive cat and prefers bare breasts to exposed throats.In tackling controversial material with such sensual undertones, Hammer moved away from implied violence and sexuality to keep up with the rest of European cinema, enlisting several breathtaking buxom actresses in their genre stable to emphasize their point, like Kate O'Mara, Madeline Smith, Pippa Steel, and Kirsten Lindholm.Also on board are familiar faces like Peter Cushing in a breviloquent supporting capacity, John Forbes-Robertson, and Ferdy Mayne.In the director's chair is Roy Ward Baker, who had previously helmed the studio's excellent Quartermass and the Pit(1967), and would go on to direct several genre films for Hammer afterwards.As it stands, the movie remains surprisingly devoted to Le Fanu's oft-interpreted text, mixing some good atmosphere and scares with even better skin, fast pacing, a classic orchestral score, and impressive set designs.Though the MGM double feature dvd with Countess Dracula has since gone out-of-print, there is a region 2 Italian PAL disc available that utilizes the same transfer you might want to look into.As far as I'm concerned, Lovers is classic Hammer fare, with everything that fans have come to expect out of one of their productions.You should have this one on your shelves already.Let's get to it. "...cause this is it, and I'm hot roooooockiiiiiiiiiiin!" After Baron Hartog(Douglas Wilmer) exacted righteous sword-decapitory vengeance upon the last of the evil Karnsteins some years ago in Stiria, General von Spielsdorf(Peter Cushing) has his blueblood ball gatecrashed by an enigmatic countess and her statuesque daughter, Marcilla(Ingrid Pitt), who proceeds to charm the broadfall breeches off of every gent in attendance.When her mother is suddenly called away on urgent matters, she imposes upon Spieldorf to watch over Marcilla until she returns, to which he chivalrously agrees.Bad move, herr general.It's not long before Marcilla and Laura(Pippa Steel), his daughter, enter into a friendship with benefits together, and an equally brief time before Laura turns her toes up with a tell-tale fang-hickey on one of her cones, and before the general can question the elusive Marcilla, she breaks the fuck out like impetigo, forcing him to ride off in search of answers from a man named...Hartog.Shortly afterwards, Roger Morton(George Cole) and his doe-eyed offspring, Emma(Madeline Smith) encounter the very same countess with daughter-in-tow after their carriage breaks down, with Morton agreeing to watch over Carmilla(see what they did there?) until she can retrieve her.Carmilla is instantly taken with the busty ginger, imposing her will upon her through ample hypno-charms until a groggy, anemic Emma finds herself frequently haunted by nightmares involving a giant cat that creeps into her bedchamber and wounds her ninnies in the process.Carmilla traipses around naked or next to it, an awful lot.Not to be outdone, Emma breaks 'em out on several occasions herself. Jumpin' Jee-zus! Those are some impressive chest circles. Emma's governess, Mme. Perrodot(Kate O'Mara), soon finds herself under the woman's spell, concealing fangholes in her neck from an inquisitive butler who brings the local doctor(Ferdy Mayne) in on his suspicions as the local townsfolk have begun dropping like flies with the same m.o. In the distance, what looks like Casey Kasem in a pilgrim's hat on a horse, grins approvingly.Carmilla is repulsed to find Emma's bedroom adorned with garlic flower bouquets, but convinces the butler that Perrodot must be the vampire, then seduces him into removing them so that she can again cross the threshold.Once inside, she tells a fading Emma that she must leave, but that her young lover/meal will accompany her.Before they can vacate the premises, a clingy, sickly Perrodot pleads with Carmilla to take her on the journey.Instead, the vampire speeds the governess into the afterlife in front of Emma's disbelieving wide eyes.Carl(Jon Finch),a local courter vying for Emma's attention, breaks in in the nick of time, using his dagger as a makeshift cross, temporarily neutralizing the blood drinker long enough to rescue his fancy, while Carmilla flees to the ruins of her ancestral tomb.At this point, Spieldorf, Morton, and Hartog, now an old man, make the scene with stake-driven retribution in mind.When the general drives the wooden plank in Carmilla's busom, Emma somehow feels it from the safety of her bedroom.Spieldorf then beheads the vampire for good measure, as a vintage portrait of the beauty on the crypt wall begins to decay into a skeleton with some impressive eye teeth... "You say you came to Baltimore from Ole Miss, a class of '7-4 gold ring." Lovers is a noticeably more solid and satisfying effort than it's two sequels, Lust for a Vampire(1971) and Twins of Evil(1972), more balanced with stronger characterizations, better direction, and more blood n' boobs, of course.Baker would direct Scars of Dracula the same year, then Doctor Jeckyll and Sister Hyde(1971), Asylum(1972), The Vault of Horror(1973),...And Now The Screaming Starts!(1973), and Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires(1974), genre-wise, while Cushing would go on to appear in The House That Dripped Blood(1971) and Twins of Evil(1971) the following year.O'Mara would contribute one helluva bustier in Horror of Frankenstein(1970) as a swan song to her work in horror, whereas Smith would next appear in Roddy McDowall's The Devil's Widow(1970) before lending her ample assets to Vincent Price vehicle Theatre of Blood in 1973.The exhilarating Pitt, who passed away in 2010 at the age of 73, would appear in 37 movies all told, with her last genre role coming in 1973's The Wicker Man, as a librarian(!).Naturally, Lovers scores three B-Dubs on the scale and comes very highly recommended.Sexy. "Hand me the breasts, uhh, errr, mallet and stake, Hartog(Douglas Wilmer)."
"Cadaver eyes upon me see...nothing." If only The Coop knew then how his tongue-in-cheek paen to necrophilia, I Love the Dead(Rolling Stone magazine called the track "predictable"!), off of the number one 1973 Billion Dollar Babies album, would parallel a strange, rarely-seen horror movie produced for the price of a completely restored 1965 Chevy Malibu(roughly 42 grand, if you're keeping score at home) featuring one of the regulars from The Carol Burnett Show(think about that for a second) tackling the same taboo subject that very same year.Though the one-sheet for LaCerte's directorial debut(and swan song, consequently) warns against viewing by the "emotionally immature", this guy sure got a kick out of it.If the production wasn't mostly hindered by sub-soap opera level dramatics, bow-legged plotholes, over-reliance on montages, and an unintentionally riotous score with obligatory Shirley Bassey-esque/007-ish titular track about necrophilia, it might have been that much more effective in delivering the ghoulish goods as an early, understandably less graphic precursor to Buttgereit's Nekromantik 2:Return of the Loving Dead nineteen years later.For the morally bankrupt perverts that groove on graverobbing to the extremest of examples, Deadly will seem a bit subdued and tame, but it still manages more than it's fair share of uncomfortable moments and maybe even a shock or two if you've let your guard down long enough.I can remember passing by the big non-clamshell Video Gems vhs on the shelves just about every time I rented from Video World in Kingston back in the day, thinking it just didn't look promising enough to drop almost four clams for a rental on.Only when the outlet finally turned its toes up did I snag it up during a clearance sale, and I still only screened the damned thing once or twice until Something Weird came along and released a dvd-r of an unrestored source print years later.Forwards! My wife!My best friend!!My formaldehyde!!! In the back row at the funeral of a bearded, James Brolin-esque motherfucker, we first see Lindsey(Mary Wilcox), all decked out in her finest mourning-wear, but after refusing an escort up to the casket for last respects, and once the service has ended, she finds herself staring at the stiff with love in her eyes, before leaning down to lasciviously kiss his dead lips(!).Cue:Creepy sepia-toned childhood flashback sequence with Lindsey as a youngster spending quality "Courtship of Eddie's Father"-time with daddy to strains of the aforementioned title track.We next see the blonde grown up again and grooving away at an outta sight get-together playing quarters and exchanging flirtatious repartee with Wade(Christopher Stone), before slipping away to mix amphetamines and that brown liquor upstairs, and ending up mattress-wrasslin' with ol' Wade in the process.Negative vibes soon turn the sensual session into a rapetastic struggle and Lindsey is forced to fingernail the beejeezus outta Wade's facepiece when he forgets exactly what "No!" means.She clutches at a teddy bear, a gift from her father as evidenced by more beige flashback footage, weeping uncontrollably.Meanwhile, Fred the mortician(Timothy Scott) solicits himself a male pay-per-screw for a measly twenty-five bucks and takes him back to his office after hearing the trick doesn't live nearby and has no immediate family(serial killer shit if I've ever heard it!).Lindsey's circling promising obits in the paper and pulling repeat offenses at another funeral, but when she leans in for some live-on-dead action, the corpse's nose crumbles like fresh coffee cake at her touch(!), being the product of some nifty mortician's wax(!!), causing her to rush out into the arms of the dead man's brother, Alex(Lyle Waggoner), who remarks about what a good work they had done on his bro's rotten car crash-grill.Back at Fred's, he's convinces his piece of action to get stripped and strapped to his work table, where he fills the terrified screamer with formaldehyde and opens his neck with a scalpel to position the exit needle, effectively embalming him alive. "Nooo!Don't slice open the ketchup pack hidden in the camera's blind spot!" When Fred recognizes Lindsey at a later funeral, he asks her to begin to dig her acute necrophilia with his private group, inviting her to join in anytime.Wade's second chance with his blonde interest ends awkwardly, while Fred embalms a female hooker this time when Lindsey, wracked with desire, decides to take him up on his invite, only to get freaked out by a gaggle of swingers in their birthday suits grooving off a cadaver that's been partially autopsied.At this point, Lindsey tries to put her stiff-fucking ways behind her in exchange for conventional love, as provided by Alex through a hokey wordless romantic montage that ends with the couple newly engaged.Lindsey still finds herself staring down hearses and unable to perform in the sack with Alex, and when Fred calls to tell her he's got her a new deceased love doll to play with, Wade follows her to the mortician's office, Barnaby Jones-style, earning himself an embalming tool-shank in the labonza.When next we see him, he's been hoisted dead in the middle of the cult of nude corpse-fiddlers, who ritually strip his body, and groove off of it in double exposure as Lindesy abruptly wakes up.On their honeymoon with Alex, she's again unable to break him off a piece, and later he finds her dancing around her father's grave, reciting nursery rhymes and vowing to be a good girl, while decked out pigtails(!).She pleads with him to go visit his mother, which he agrees to, but doubles back and follows her instead, headed to the familiar mortuary.Inside he discovers his bride straddling a corpse while her necro-pals chant and hold candles, earning himself a hearty stabbing from the secretive Fred.We then see Fred telling her that he's brought her husband home and prepared him to be hers always and forever.Don't like where this is going, one bit.After some tranquilizers lead to a flashback about her father's death, she happily climbs under the covers with a dead, embalmed Alex; this time, ready for some serious action.Yeah, bleeech. Rubbin' sticks n' stones together, makin' sparks ignite and the thought of lovin' you is gettin' sooo excitin'... Wilcox, who's body bangs like Moe Howard's haircut, also appeared in genre flicks like Beast of the Yellow Night and The Psychic Killer.Waggoner who played several characters as a regular on Carol Burnett(it still blows my mind that the producers of tonight's review got him to be in this), enjoyed a long career on television, most notably on shows like The New Adventures of Wonder Woman, The Love Boat, and Fantasy Island.You'll remember the late Christopher Stone as Dee Wallace's infidelitous husband in The Howling(1981), also co-starring with her in Cujo(1983).She was married to him for fifteen years in real life until he died of a heart attack in 1995.Code Red/Shriek Show has since released the most definitive disc of tonight's review to date, so if you're interested in checking it out, that's the one to hunt for.On the scale, Deadly merits two Wops, an interesting oddity from the "Me" decade that you'll probably flip a coin over seeing on some monotonous Wednesday evening.I'm guessing there's at least a small handful of brawds out there who'd love to see me dead, though post-croak sex probably isn't on their minds afterwards.A charmer, I am. "I hope somebody brought the ABBA 8-track, the quaaludes, and the beer steins to piss in..."