"Sella Turcica"(2010)d/Fred Vogel

We'll ring in the month of November here at the Wop with good seasonal tidings and some excellent genre news for all:the unhinged motherfuckers over at Toe Tag Pictures in Pittsburgh are at it again,serving up some chunk blowing fear fodder with their latest film,Sella Turcica.If you're unfamiliar with the anatomical term(which I'm sure you aren't,as most woprophiles here blew through med school like a tsunami through shanty town,right?),it describes a depression in a bone at the base of the skull that's shaped like a saddle,hence,the "turkish saddle" or sella turcica.Fred "The Hammer" Vogel's latest ocularly offensive offering stars genre queen Camille "I Spit on Your Grave" Keaton,a grown up Jade Risser,who gorehounds will remember from Nick Palumbo's Murder Set Pieces,an excellent lead performance by Toe Tag regular Damien Maruscak,and a dramatic screenplay collaborated upon by Toe Tag head Don Moore,and Fred and Shelby Vogel.At first glance,Turcica might resemble a gore-soaked,low budget update of Bob Clark's Deathdream(1974),but I'm here to tell you,kiddies,Savini and Ormsby could have never dreamed of the splatterific splendor brought to the silver screen here by FX maestro Jerami Cruise.In fact,I'm gonna spare you screenshots of the picture's brutal finale tonight,and instead urge you to pick up your own copy of the film directly from Toe Tag's webstore,and if you don't find yourself blown away and playing back the last twenty minutes of the movie several times in a row,well maybe,you ought to be sharing tear-drenched tissues with your significant other over the latest chick flick,you Sally.

"But I don't wanna hear your boyfriend's stupid fucking mixtapes!"
The story goes something like this:Karmen Robak(Keaton) has enlisted the help of her family to prepare the household for the bittersweet return of her son,Brad(Maruscak),a wheelchair-ridden war vet,paralyzed by a mysterious accident while on active duty,though they remain unaware of the details of the accident or the severity of his condition.Upon his arrival,they're so pleased to see him that they avoid bringing up his obvious sickly appearance.Over the next twenty-six hours Brad's condition grows gravely worse,spiralling into a gruesome conclusion that will change the family forever.

Sgt. Robak(Maruscak) is a wounded war vet you'll not soon forget.
Vogel,the man responsible for the most gloriously nasty horror trilogy to ever see the light of day,focuses his camera lens mainly on dramatic tension for the first two thirds of the picture,then effectively throws the proverbial kitchen sink(if it was filled with gruesomely bloody imagery)at the viewer during the finale.Some of the acting performances feel a bit amateurish,and the dialogue is occasionally stilted(I thought I may have counted characters thanking each other for "being there" something like six hundred thousand times),with Pittsburgh rapper "Freestyle"'s turn as Gavin/DJ Gazm being pretty cringeworthy from the instant he appears on screen.You'll be plugging for him to die violently the second he opens his mouth.There's also a pug named "Fulci",and direct reference to Giovinazzo's Combat Shock(1986),if you're paying close enough attention.All in all though,it's good to see Vogel tackling projects with substance and social commentary to them,and the metaphor within tonight's review about how war can change people is well-handled,I think.It's safe to say we can rely on directors like Vogel and Nick Palumbo to consistently redefine the cutting edge of underground horror,and if features like Turcica are any indication,there are good days ahead for the genre,indeed.Three wops.

If you thought war was Hell,you should see the Robak household right about now...

"Day of the Woman"(1978)d/Meir Zarchi

Rape is an ugly word that draws varying responses from the populace upon mention,the cowardly act of taking that which is not given unto you willingly.I've known a few rape victims over the years,and they were certainly not deserving of the traumatic experiences and nightmarish flashbacks that were forced upon them in an unguarded moment.Your game was too weak for conventional courtship methods so you felt it necessary to go full on douchebag to patch up your wounded ego,destroying a person or persons forever in the process.Pathetic and sickening.There's a fine line between a real man and a caveman that often gets lost in translation by those of few firing neurons.A real man is a stand up guy you can depend on when the chips are down,and a gentleman when it counts.Despite my sometimes crass descriptions and ludicrous sense of humor,I open doors for women,say "Thank you" and "please" when the situation merits,and even relieve myself of my bomber to ensure a little lady's warmth on a cold night out.Old school chivalry,motherfuckers.Women shouldn't have to fear a guy,kinky roleplay not withstanding.Women still dig real men,so be one.
Tonight's review focuses on the highly controversial 1978 Zarchi vehicle,which was later re-released as "I Spit on Your Grave" two years later,under heavy censorship and critical scrutiny over the touchy subject matter,but few films wear the cult classic banner as proudly as Day does,with a ferocious fan base,and a Philipines-based sequel and upcoming remake under its belt.If you thought Boorman might have shown you a little too much rape in Deliverance(1972),then you're definitely not up to the marathon rape session in this movie.El Duce of The Mentors would have probably said "Enough is enough!" after twenty minutes went by,but the whole excrutiating sequence exists to pit the audience against the trashy criminals responsible,and to cause them to cheer on their violent comeuppances later on in the movie.It's really a simple,basic affair,with an undercurrent of gritty realism that works here.I can't see it being on anyone's "favorite" lists(yes,I can),but it still stands as one of those necessary evils you've gotta see at least once.

Summer journal:Day 6,Today was kind of a bummer.
Jennifer Hills(Camille Keaton) takes a vacation from her New York magazine writing gig to focus on her first novel out in the scenic countryside,away from the metroplitan distractions.A pod of local Jethros,unaccustomed to her modernity,takes it upon themselves to harrass the leggy redhead at every juncture,disturbing her peace and quiet with motorboat-by catcalls and late night racket.One afternoon while chillaxing in her canoe,she is towed to shore by two of the hayseeds,where after being chased around the forest by two more Bufords,she becomes aware that the whole thing was a set up for their retarded Paul Schaeffer-lookalike,Matthew(who's got no lenses in his nerd goggles,btw),to finally drop cookie batter on a human female of the species.Once they've captured her,they take turns raping her...a lot.You could probably let the dvd play while you hit the late night McDonald's drive thru and when you got back,they'd still be punching her up and dicking her down.Humiliated,dirty,and sodomized,she crawls on her belly back to her cabin where she calls the authorit-nah,they're there to rape and beat her some more.Matthew,who the rednecks have been feeding booze to,tries to get it on with the broken piece of womanhood,but can't tap his nutbag with the other bozos viddying the action.The good ole boys tear up her manuscript and mock it aloud,finally demanding that he snuff her candle with a pocket knife,stabbing her in the heart,which the seventies Gilligan clone can't bring himself to do,either,so he dips the knife blade in some of the girl's readily available blood and fakes it to the fellas,who believe he's just eliminated the evidence.

"A mint Blue Snaggletooth??!!Zounds!I'm about to expulse in my slacks!"
After a few days of healing her contusions and abrasions,and patching up her novel and fractured psyche,she visits a church to ask forgiveness for the violent retribution she's about to rain down upon these ignorant hosers.First up to taste the vengeful fury is nerdy moron,Matthew,who she lures back to her spot,seducing him under a tree then hanging him with a rope just as he's popping his stones off in her panty purse.She dumps the lifeless MMORPG ancestor's corpse in the drink afterwards.She then tricks the second rapist into her car,where she pulls a piece on him,ordering him to strip down to the buck,while he argues that he and his pals were justified in their lurid crime because she asked for it with her suggestive flirting and Daisy Dukes(!).This causes her to drop her gun and invite the scumbag back to her place for a bath(!!),where she confesses to killing his retarded buddy,all the while yanking his meat and sawing it off under the soap bubbles(!!!).The dickless wonder screams for his mommy as she locks him in from the outside,forcing him to bleed out.The last two antagonists converge on her place by motorboat,wielding an axe,both of which end up in Jennifer's possession somehow,and both used to dispatch her attackers:she sinks the axe into the back of number one,then reprises the second's own words("Suck it,bitch" or something to that effect)before disemboweling him with the outboard motor.She speeds off over the water with a relieved smile on her face.

Q:What do this guy's dick and Hunter S. Thompson have in common? A:They're both Gonzo's.
Those of you who are Horror con haunters can easily meet Ms. Keaton these days,as she regularly makes appearances at all the major ones around.Her husband at the time,Zarchi went on to direct the equally eye-catching Don't Mess With My Sister in 1985,before most recently writing and producing this year's Day remake,I Spit on Your Grave:Unrated,which stars Sarah Butler in the Keaton role.As with Aja's Piranha 3D,I may find myself screening it in the near future.Not making any promises,though.The original,on the other hand merits two wops on the rating scale.

Jennifer(Keaton)axes for a little respect,dadgum it.