"A Day of Violence" (2010) d/ Darren Ward

If crime drama was nourishment you could grub on, then British newcomer Darren Ward would be the equivalent of a back street cuisinier splashing the viewer's palate with bloody good eats, indeed. His second full-length feature plays like a low budget variant of his country's popular recent gangster epics like Snatch, Sexy Beast, or Gangster No. 1, but with a generous pinch of tribute to the Italian poliziotteschi of the seventies and eighties and a dash ( this should read "lid fell off of container, entire contents dumped haphazardly into mixture", really) of Big S und Big V*, for that downhome genre gusto. Though some of the dialog circumvents the power of the film's splattery reveal in the end, Violence is a pretty engaging piece of urban thuggery with a solid performance from Nick Rendell in the lead, and a welcome appearance by the legendary Johnny Morghen himself as a bong-reefing deadbeat crud.


The ol' "Bbbbllllblllllbllbbbbllll plus tax" does 'em in every time.
We meet Mitchell (Rendell) as his body bag is unzipped in the morgue, his hulking, lifeless body with a middle piece missing; his voice providing the narrative for the circuitous tale of how he got there in the first place, which starts just twenty-four hours earlier...after some lengthy spirited fuckage with his bird, he pays a visit to the dilapidated porn-papered digs of Hopper (Giovanni Lombardo-Radice), a vulgar derelict who owes him some money, but discovers significantly more cash stashed away in the beanbag chair than he's been leaning hard on his mark for. Having already pinned the pleading transient to the counter top with a steak knife (!), the burly bonebreaker decides to blag the extra bucks, slashing the neckpiece of the stoner and making the dash. Ironically, he seeks employment from the very crime lord he's only just robbed, a cold cunt named Boswell (Victor D. Thorn) who bases his criminal organization out of a print shop(!!).


They went easy on you compared to the old days, Johnny.
Unbeknownst to Mitchell, Hopper captured his slayer's sticky fingers on a cell phone vid, which ends up in the hands of one of Boswell's cartoony bald thugs, who all seem to have dainty nicknames for some unknown, yet convivial reason. Having just escaped some eye-watering-ly remorseless torture at the mitts of the boss' skin-pated brutes, he returns to his lover's, ready to deliver the blood money over for motivations that I'll leave un-discussed here, so that you readers might be able to better appreciate the claret-splashed climax for yourselves.


"At least he din't suffah."(Tony Soprano voice)
A stylized, nihilistic vision that's brimming with exploitative sex and violence for the gorehounds in the audience, and surely a sign of many more good things to come from this young director, who I'll be keeping my eye out for, as should you. On the scale, Violence earns a sterling score of tre wops. Recommended.


Faster than you can say Bob's your uncle and Fanny's your aunt, it's the new Pasta Slingshot...only from Montco.

*Sesso e violenza, naturalmente.

"Deliria"(1987)d/Michele Soavi

By 1987, the 'stalk and slash' era of horror was in serious need of cardiopulmonary resuscitation, most of its pulpy gore having been extorted to barrenness by opportunistic studios throughout the first half of the decade.The splattery sub-genre that had proved wildly popular to horror fans the world over was now mostly subjected to criminal disregard in favor of thewless fare like The Lost Boys and Ghoulies 2 with an indecorous, premature burial seemingly just around the bend.It certainly might have gone that way were it not for synthetic opioids of Mediterranean cinematic origin as delivered by familiar genre medicos like Dario Argento, Ruggero Deodato, and the directorial debut of Michele Soavi, as evidenced in tonight's review.Up until now, Soavi had been receiving credits as assistant director on films by Argento, Aristide Massaccesi(Joe D'Amato), and Lamberto Bava, as well as helming the excellent 1985 docupic, Dario Argento's World of Horror, but it was clearly time for this Milanese to begin to reveal the enormous talents he brought to the director's chair for himself.Deliria, which was released under a host of alternate titles such as "Aquarius", "The Bloody Bird", and "Stage Fright", would be produced by Massaccesi, and scripted by Luigi Montefiori under his 'Lew Cooper' pseudonym, not to mention showcasing the screen presence of genre vets like Barbara Cupisti, who honed her skills in movies by Fulci and Argento and would go on to appear in Soavi's La Chiesa(1989) and Dellamorte, Dellamore(1994), David Brandon, who debuted in Derek Jarman's art-punk Jubilee(1978), and went on to appear in cult favorites by Massaccesi(Emperor Caligula:The Untold Story) and Bava(Le foto di Gioia), and the always tragic Johnny Morghen, who might have momentarily put aside his increasingly vocal disdain for orrore e gialli here, in playing an actor in a theatrical troupe just as he actually was, prior to his cinema debut for Deodato in 1979.Despite being somewhat anchored in mediocre waters by familiar subject matter, a passe' eighties soundtrack full of annoying synth-jazz(you all know how much I despise jazz) by the normally outstanding Simon Boswell, and mired by a sloggish midsection, Deliria is a beautifully shot(what else would you expect from Soavi?) slasher/giallo hybrid that boasts of several inventive and explicit kills that help it to rise above most of its more lemon peers.Onward!

"Don't look to me for protection, I get paid to traipse around in tights!" minces Brett(Johnny Morghen).
A troupe of struggling young actors rehearses a small new production about a mass murderer known as the "Night Owl" late one evening, when the leading lady Alicia(Barbara Cupisti) unwittingly twists her ankle and is forced to sneak off with Betty(Ulrike Schwerk), the wardrobe mistress, to seek medical attention away from the dictatorial eye and vitriolic tongue of Peter(David Brandon), the play's director.It just so happens that the nearest medical facility is the area's mental hospital, and not just any mental hospital, but the one that happens to house Irving Wallace, an actor who abruptly flipped his wig and snuffed twelve unlucky cats before gettin' boxed up in the squirrel farm.While the actress's peg is tended to by the resident psychiatrist, Wallace, now overbrimming with hatred for actors, takes out an orderly with a syringe and breaks out of the asylum, hiding out in the back of Betty's car.When the girls return to the rehearsal, Peter sassily serves up walking papers to Alicia for leaving the theater, but after packing her stuff and returning to Betty's car in the torrential rain outside, she stumbles upon the wardrobe mistress's dead body, her yap bifurcated by a pickaxe.The authorities station two officers(Mickey Knox, Michele Soavi) outside the theater to guard the premises when the director, acting on artistic urge, rewrites the script and gives the theater's door key to an actress to hide, so that nobody can leave the building.Let's recap, shall we?Actor-hating psychopath locked in a dark theater with troupe of catty actors working on a pretentious play about a murderer(now named "Irving Wallace" by the foppish Peter) who wears an ominous owl head mask(and a Marilyn Monroe clone blowing sax in the "Seven Year Itch" dress, for some unknown reason).I can only imagine what's gonna transpire next...

"Do you ever get tired of hearing how much you look like Michele Soavi?" asks 'Old Cop'(Mickey Knox).
First Wallace dispatches the actor who would be portraying him in Brett(Johnny Morghen), then, decked out in Strigiformes-head, takes his place on stage and, upon shouted cue from Peter, strangles and shanks up one of the actresses for serious in front of everyone's disbelieving eyes.After Peter is informed that the phone line's been cut, and tries to grill a dying Corinne about the whereabouts of the key, he starts to realize which odorous creek he's up without a paddle.Pretty soon, Irving is going through frantic, terrified dancers in the dark faster than me with an AMP four pack.One particularly sorry bastard gets power drilled through the labonza while clutched through a door.Peter remarks that the survivors might have better luck sticking together as they stumble upon Brett's corpse amidst synths that wouldn't be out of place in a Level 42 track, and one female dancer, pulled through the wooden walkway in the rafters, is sheared in two.When one of the boys vengefully jumps through the hole in the floor to face the maniac, he's dissected by a chainsaw for his troubles.Peter whimpers, "You leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone...alright?" and gets his arm sawed off, with his own fire axe ripped from his disembodied arm and used to decapitate him.With the oblivious cops outside in the rain comparing themselves to Brando and Dean(!), Alicia, awoken by a single feather landing on her face, finds a bloodied half-conscious Laura in the showers when Irving shows up to shiv her in the labonza and drag her off.Wallace morbidly dresses the stage with all the lifeless corpses of his victims and sits among them with the key to the outside precariously lodged in one of the floorboards at his feet.Will this be Alicia's final curtain call? Will Irving roost in a barn at sunrise? How this pot boiler wraps up, I'll leave to you to find out.Disappointment is unlikely.

Impressed by the size of Irving's drill bit, the ladies are soon on him about contracting some private handiwork...
Helping to keep the slasher subgenre alive was all in a day's work for Soavi, whose films only got better from here.As it stands, Deliria has got enough going on to merit a look for gore freaks, and a permanent spot on the shelves of genre collectors.It's a fairly standard affair with moments of flair provided by the unmistakable style of the director beginning to surface.Most of the pretentious tights-leapers are of the stereotypically acrimonious type, so you'll be cheering on the graphic murders here once they start dropping like dysfunctional genitalia.Of course, I'm slightly biased towards Soavi, my favorite genre director since Chile got turned on to free elections, but there you go.A little sidetracked with a harbinger of Sunday night partying permeating the air, so I'm just gonna go ahead and wrap this one up by slapping three wops on it as a seal of approval and recommending it to all of you out there.Now let's boogie...

That's how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, bitches.

"La Setta"(1991)d/Michele Soavi

As the resident uber-Italian on the block, I draw the most satisfaction from reviewing my fellow countrymen and their genre efforts here for your entertainment.Nothing exhilarates me more than a good horror movie, except maybe a good Italian horror movie, of course.Tonight,we'll cover a beautifully ominous and enigmatic example from my favorite of these aforementioned directors, fellow Milanese, Michele Soavi, that happens to star eighties scream screen Jamie Lee Curtis' older sister, Kelly, as well as genre legend Herbert Lom in one of his winter years appearances, and Soavi regular Tomas Arana in a splendid turn as a Manson-esque mass murdering Satanist.Also on board for the nether-born chaos and carnality (filmed over three months in 1990 for roughly two million dollars) are Donald(Dr. Butcher,M.D./Zombi Holocaust)O'Brien, Mariangela Giordano, and the legendary cult hero, Giovanni Lombardo Radice in a memorable cameo sequence, proving he may be the best at portraying an off-kilter kook on camera.Even Soavi himself turns up in an uncredited cameo as a magician on television.The effects were, of course handled by maestro, Sergio Stivaletti(some of the oddest work I've seen from him to date); with original sountrack work handled by none other than Pino Donaggio.
From the initial frames the viewer instantly knows it's a Soavi movie, due to the highly stylish trademark cinematography within, engulfing the film in a dream-like aura, making one wonder if he or she wasn't in the middle of an elaborately strange yet beautiful nightmare; a nod of influence to producer and co-writer Dario Argento perhaps, perhaps due in part to the surreal quality of the odd story itself.I haven't seen too many people champion Setta, as should definitely be the case here, but I blame that upon lack of exposure to many genre fans, and not a general dislike for the movie.I suspect that the pedestrian U.S. release title,"The Devil's Daughter" and the uninspiring Italian region 2 dvd sleeve artwork(Kelly Curtis holding a constrictor superimposed over some tinted energy lightning.Scared yet?Nah, me neither.More horrible than horrifying.) haven't helped win many viewers over either.A screening will have the opposite effect, revealing a murky,atmospheric,and often very spooky experience if you're willing to accept it.Highly recommended.

What Martin Romero(Johnny Morghen) lacks in hair follicles, he makes up for with batshit craziness.
We open in the desert with a commune full of sixties reject hippie dirt merchants doing what they do best, getting their tits painted and neglecting their kids, until they're finally set upon by a murderous cell of Satanic bikers, led by Damon(Tomas Arana) who's like Charlie Manson with better taste in music(he quotes the Rolling Stones, not the Beatles).Thankfully they slaughter the whole camp like groovy peacenik piggies,with Damon pow-wowing about a devil-driven apocalypse with unseen passengers in an ominous black limousine afterwards.It's not time, just yet.We spring ahead decades later to the nineties in Germany, where Martin Romero(get it?)(Johnny Morghen) is driven by unhallowed motives and impious forces to stalk and kill a woman, before a subway pickpocket unwittingly lifts a disembodied human heart from his pocket(Bobby Rhodes Demoni voice:"That'll teach ya to steal thangs!"), leading him to kill himself with an officer's revolver rather than be arrested for his heinous crime.Meanwhile a grizzled, feculent methuselah(Always wanted to call somebody that FTR) named Moebius(Herbert Lom)rides a cross-country bus, clutching a mysterious package and intermittently dosing his peepers with some horrible dark liquid.During a pitstop he is walloped to the asphalt by a car driven by a woman named Mirium(Kelly Curtis).He refuses the obligatory ride to the hospital, opting instead to recharge his creepy batteries on her couch for the night.A bad move on her part, unless she was looking for the elderly stranger to sneak into her room during the night and allow an earwig-esque insect of unknown origin crawl up one of her nostrils and exiting Stage Well-in-the-cellar, which I probably don't think was the case...A simple "Heyyy,thanks for letting me crash at your place, baby." would have been closer to proper etiquette here.

Jovny the Vlasic stork delivers a diabolical pickle from Hell.
Before too long, Moebius' true intentions for the attractive young school teacher become known, camoflaged against a haze of deliriously wild dream imagery like a television watching bunny(...yes,bunny) that even channel surfs with the remote, an amorous stork(...yes,stork) with a propensity for rape and pecking mealworms out a beak-created meathole in a human neck, faces peeled off n' jacked up with the aid of multiple surgical finger-hooks, origin-free blue stringy residue in glasses of drinking water, evil animate hankies that form-fit into death masks(Sam Raimi was watching, no doubt) on the grillpiece of Miriam's friend and fellow schoolteacher Kathryn(Mariangela Giordano,of "Burial Ground" fame), and irrational giallo-styled stabbings: He is the elder of a sinister sect that has targeted Miriam as the life-vessel to carry the hell-seed to bear the son of the dark lord and master, Satan himself, triggering the Astarothical armageddon that Damon was plugging for in the first reel, enslaving the doomed human race.This all should have become painfully apparent when she discovered the Carollian portal to Hell in her basement.She probably might have wanted to check for that when she bought the house in the first place, I dunno.Does Ol' Scratch get the opportunity to hand out brimstone-flavoured "It's a boy" cigars? I'll let you snare a copy and find out what happens at the climax for yourselves.You'll dig it.

...On the receiving end of what's known in the industry as a "reverse Joan Rivers".
As far as I know, no NTSC dvd has been released for tonight's review as of yet; I rushed out and grabbed the Italian disc with all speed ages ago, and it perplexes the writhing screw out of me to see genre fans whimpering about paying twenty-two dollars for a dvd(I paid more than that, ya petticoats!), let alone one by a masterful director such as Soavi that they've more than likely yet to see, yet box packages of Peter Jackson's Rings trilogy(they've likely seen a dozen times already) go for upwards of eighty bucks(...an expensive hobbit indeed.Sorry.),and spend weeks on the best seller list with no backlash.Prioritize intelligently, is what I'm saying here, woprophiles mine.
A visually stunning and bizarre progression from his previous two genre pieces,Stagefright(1987)and La Chiesa(1989),Setta, which was also puzzlingly marketed to some extent as Demons 4(with Chiesa serving as Demons 3), is an expert honing of Soavi's directorial blade, which would be held aloft over all(at least according to ol' Wop's standards anyway) by the time of his next film,Dellamorte Dellamore(1994), his last horror film to date.I've seen hardline Argentophiles rip on Soavi for this movie's Dario-esque feel, even going so far as to call him a hack because of it.Climb out of Argento's ass already, ye blind sycophants, and conserve your venom for more deserving Italo-cinema failures,like Trauma(1993) or Phantom of the Opera(1998).Pssst, that's two more asspies than Michele has ever helmed.Soavi rules.Three wops.

Put that groady external womb-bag away, would you? Can't take you anyplace.

THE DEAD SHALL RISE AND WALK TO CHILLER

With the Chiller Theatre Expo celebrating its 20th anniversary this October 29-31 at the Hilton Parsippany in New Jersey, another historic milestone will take place at the event, namely a 30th anniversary cast reunion of Lucio Fulci’s masterpiece CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD (aka THE GATES OF HELL).


Six participants from this 1980 Italian shocker will be part of the Halloween show’s ITALIAN INVASION III, five of whom will be appearing at their very first convention EVER:


Catriona MacColl “Mary Woodhouse”
Giovanni Lomabrdo Radice “Bob”
Carlo De Mejo “Gerry”
Antonella Interlenghi “Emily Robbins”
Venantino Venantini “Mr. Ross”
Luca Venantini “John-John Robbins”



“For me, it will be a dream come true,” states Paura Production’s ITALIAN INVASION organizer Mike Baronas. “This atmospheric zombie nightmare has been, and always will be, my favorite horror film. It haunted me to the core upon seeing during the VHS boom of the mid-80’s and has been a major influence on my life and career. Everything has led up to reuniting these friends of mine together at one time and in one place. After 3 decades, this will undoubtedly be a once-in-a-lifetime event for all!”

Ed. note:...and if that wasn't enough to make you rethink your local east coast meat market bar plans for Halloween weekend,chatting up the obligatory sexy witches,sexy pirates,sexy spies,sexy zombies,ad infinitum,how about the announcement of this amazing addition to the lineup...

None other than DARIA NICOLODI,former muse to the maestro himself,Dario Argento,mother to Asia Argento,and actress in such genre classics as
Deep Red,Suspiria,Inferno,Beyond the Door II,Tenebrae,Phenomena,Delirium:Photo of Gioia,Opera,Paganini Horror,La Setta,Scarlet Diva,and Mother of Tears.If that isn't a wet dream for you Italo-horrorphiles out there,you're probably already dead.BE THERE!

Wicked as Always,
B.W.

"La Chiesa"(1989)d/Michele Soavi

Ah,the lazy,crazy,hazy days of summer are upon us at last,droogies.Hook me up a comfy lounge chair,some grilled animal flesh,an AMP Big Rig,a fat quarter of Iraqi sativa,and some cigarettes,poolside with a bevvy of buxom brunettes in micro-bikinis to fan me down and pop grapes into my yap,and I'll meet you back here at the end of August.I had planned on kicking off the month of July here at the Wop sometime yesterday,but let's face it...I was far too twisted to attempt to type even one word for most of the day,all of the evening,and even most of the morning today.Ernest Hemingway,Keith Moon,Syd Barrett...bunch of Marys.Also,I've rethought my official stance on the "duck face phenomenon" currently sweeping teh interwebs,and come up with the following lone exception to the rule:Only acceptable if it's being made by Dai Green,and directed towards me.'At's more of a smoochy,kissy face than a mallard mouth,anyway,no?Go ahead and accuse me of bias,you think you'd be the first??Hahaha.Onwards.
Tonight we examine the film that was to be the second sequel to Lamberto Bava's Demoni(1985),produced by Dario Argento,and directed by Michele Soavi,with creature and gore set pieces served up by the maestro,Sergio Stivaletti,and a game cast that includes a pre-sultry teenaged Asia Aregento,Giovanni Lombardo Radice,Barbara Cupisti,Tomas Arana,an atmospheric,creepy score by Keith Emerson and Phillip Glass,with tracks by Goblin,and a screenplay collaborated on by Soavi,Argento,Dardano Sacchetti,Lamberto Bava,Franco Ferrini,and Fabrizio Bava.Soavi had grown tired of what he refers to as "Pizza Schlock" and strived to move beyond fare of this type here,and succeeds on several levels,in my opinion,displaying a visual flair that rivals Argento at his best,taking a serious approach on a series that unflinchingly threw the kitchen sink at the viewer prior to this entry with varying success,although there's still a whole helluva lot going on here,with several frames-in-tribute and excellent period and modern sequences adeptly handled by Argento's protégé,as expected.Released internationally as "The Church",tonight's film surpasses either of Bava's first two chapters,and stands on its own as a superlative slice of Italian genre from the eighties.

"We're looking to party heartily with young chicks bearing the stigmata...you in,baby?"
In medieval Italy,the Teutonic Knights stumble upon a little village of peasants,and acting on the word of an accuser,slay the men,women,children,and livestock(!)on the spot because one of the girls(Cupisti)bears the stigmata,or Devil's mark on her foot.A mass grave is dug for the victims of the religious purge,then sealed with a massive cross.Moving to modern day Italy,we see that an enormous gothic cathedral has been built on the cursed spot,where Evan(Arana) is beginning his job as librarian.Here,he meets Lisa(also Cupisti),who is restoring sections of the church's fading frescoes,and before you can say,In nomine Patris et fillii et Spiritus Sancti,they're grinding naughty bits together.Lisa discovers an ancient,yellowing scroll after breaking through a crumbling basement wall,which leads Evan to believe something is buried underneath the cathedral,upon translating the parchment.By dislodging the figure of a goat with eight eyes from the basement floor,he unwittingly unleashes demons upon the parishoners and clergy alike,and all Hell begins to break loose.The sacristan,whose hands are usually full with his teenaged daughter Lotte(Argento) sneaking out through secret passages to smoke cigarettes and boogie at local discotheques,becomes convinced he is really the Angel of Death(!),and accordingly runs himself through on a jackhammer(!!),triggering an ancient alchemist-built mechanism that seals off the lone exit to the cathedral,trapping the unleashed evil inside.

Whatever they're combining to form,it ain't Voltron,that's for sure.
There's a throng of victi,errr,people who find themselves on the wrong end of the massive sealed door,ranging from an elderly hip-talking elderly woman and her miserable mate,to an entire wedding fashion shoot,to a pair of motorcyclists,and everything in between,and the possessions and inventive deaths fly fast and furious from here on out with chaotic regularity.Lisa is visited at home by the Goat of Mendes himself,and after the old woman drags her husband up to the belltower,she severs his head and rings the bell with it(!),spouting groovy one-liners the whole way,the bikers dig their way down to a subway tunnel,and the female biker's face is pulverized against the windshield of an oncoming train like flaky oatmeal(!!),possessed schoolchildren prey upon their nearsighted teacher and each other,the main fashion model imagines she has aged prematurely and claws her own face to shreds(!!!).Amidst the madness Ol' Scratch has dreamed up for these unlucky bastards,there's a Satanic ceremony taking place in the basement,where Lisa is being offered to the dark lord and master himself,and a huge writhing orgy of people forming a horned monstrosity rises from the cracked cement below.Father Gus(Hugh Quarshie) enlists Lotte to help him escape the doomed structure through the secret passages in the church's catacombs.In the end the church collapses upon itself with only the sacristan's daughter surviving the modern day purge.She visits the site to place flowers in memory of her parents when some of the stone falls away to reveal a passage beneath.She looks down into the darkness and smiles.

I think Soavi likes Boris Vallejo.A lot.
Soavi,who shows up here as an uncredited policeman in black leather gloves(a tribute to Argento's gialli), would follow this up with La Setta(1990),which we'll be scrutinizing here very shortly,and Dellamorte,Dellamore(1994),arguably the greatest zombie film(and one of the greatest horror films) ever made,in my opinion.Quarshie went on to work in Highlander(1986) and Nightbreed(1990) before moving on to recurring UK telly work.Arana would also do Soavi's Setta the following year,as well as Last Temptation of Christ,Ridley Scott's Gladiator,and others.Cupisti worked on Fulci's Lo Squartatore di New York(1982)and Argento's Opera(1987),while Argento's daughter would go on to a fruitful acting career in all sorts of genres,most importantly,scoring a lead in George A. Romero's Land of the Dead in 2004,which we'll also be covering here soon.All in all,a solid effort from one of my favorite directors,with enough gore,chills,and solid performances to keep you glued to your favorite chair for a hundred or so minutes.I really can't wait to see what Soavi brings to the table next.This entry writhingly rises from the depths of the cathedral,with a three wopped goat leading the charge in the fight for immortal souls.Check it out!

"Pssst,Asia!Yeah,down here.We're giving out free vulva tattoos,you want one?"

"Paura nella città dei morti viventi"(1980)d/Lucio Fulci

Three years later,I'm finally covering one of the maestro's films over here.My chum Nigel has done and continues to do a bang up job tackling the genre films of mother Italy,specifically those of Fulci,so I really haven't been in any hurry to cover any myself.Some might say I go through periods where I'm not in any hurry to cover anything over here,but those individuals,frankly,are dicks.It takes one to know one,as the old addage goes.I touched base with some true genre fans at a party the other night,and in between partying into the wee hours,we shot the crap about a lot of movies,mainly Italian horror,and even threw in Buio Omega for some quality tit-sucking,entrail-fondling,neck-chunking fun before the smoke finally cleared.I had such a balls out good time that I decided it was high time we got down to some quality Fulci here at the Wop.
I was probably thirteen years old when I first saw tonight's entry,dumping fifty clams on the Paragon vhs at the local record store when they had a notably virtuous video section full of genre titles.With the Zombi 2 one-sheet still adorning my bedroom wall as a trophy of my first theatrical experience with Lucio years earlier,I called the boys down to the parlour,to share in my second unforgettable,gore-spurting run in.If you're near to being a scruffy old ruffian as I am,you'll remember Paragon's glorious trailers flashing across the screen before the feature began,and with craptastic titles like Boarding House,Hotwire!,The One-Armed Executioner,Necromancy,and Funeral Home being previewed(along with tonight's entry,under its U.S. release title,"Gates of Hell"),we were already well-entertained before strains of Fabio Frizzi's superlative score signalled the rollercoaster ride we were all in for.What followed,droogies,I'll interpret for you now...

A bit early in the season for a maggot storm,eh,Carlo?
After seeing Father Thomas lynch himself in a fog-engulfed cemetery in faraway Dunwich,purposely opening one of the seven gates of Hell and allowing the dead to rise and to squeeze the backs of the heads of the living until their brains bobble out like so much crumbled feta cheese, during a groovy seance somewhere in New York,psychic Mary Woodhouse(Catriona MacColl) eats psychic link-breaking heart stoppage death.The cops watch fire shoot from the floor to the ceiling and back again,then blame it all on the psychics' reefer smoking party.Luckily for Mary,an investigative reporter named Peter Bell(Christopher George)happens to be visiting her grave plot when she comes to inside her coffin,about to be buried alive.Oh yeah,and the fact they chose not to embalm her beforehand,for whatever reason...Bell hears wild stories about the city.The cursed city.The cursed city of the dead.The cursed city of the living dead,as described in the Book of Enoch,where he and Mary must travel to destroy the priest's body and effectively close the portal to Hell before All Saints' Day.Meanwhile,in Dunwich,all sorts of fucked up shit is already happening,and local rubber woman-enthusiast/creepy retard-pervert,Bob(Giovanni Lombardo Radice/John Morghen,the focal point for on camera abuse by many of the top Italian genre directors of the day),usually isn't too far away from the goings on.

Daniela Doria shows her true feelings about the new Wopsploitation header.
First,Bob witnesses the dead priest's appearance and subsequent worm n' mud face moosh of a girl named Emily,who abruptly dies of fright.Then two locals'(Michele Soavi and Daniela Doria) parked car petting session gets interrupted by Father Thomas' sudden materialization,causing the girl to bleed from the eyes,then upchuck all of her internal organs(I'm pretty sure I caught a heart and liver spilling out during the melee),before squeezing the grey stuff out of the back of her suitor's head,as a full-on zombie.Poor Bob,while looking for a place to sleep,gets busted smoking pot with a young girl in her garage by a furious father,who abruptly shishkabobs his head with a table drill.That'll learn 'im!For Gerry and Sandra(Carlo De Mejo and Janet Agren),things aren't much better after combining efforts with Peter and Mary,who've just arrived on the scene,as they get caught amidst one helluva indoor live maggot storm.Meanwhile,zombies capable of appearing and disappearing,levitating,and the aforementioned dome-squeeze are popping up all over town as the four frantically rush to the cemetery where the priest's body has been interred.Emily pops the skullcap of Sandra,who later pops Peter's loaf down in Thomas's family vault,leaving Gerry and Mary to deal with the priest himself.The unholy padre begins to make Mary's eyes bleed,foreshadowing an upcoming entrail-hurl,but is interrupted by Gerry,who runs the priest through with a large wooden cross to the labonza.As the zombies all around them catch fire and slump to the ground,the two survivors realize they've won the day.But,outside the tomb, as Emily's younger brother runs towards them,they begin to recoil in horror,as a freezeframe of the boy shatters to pieces.Whaaaaat?

Bob(Johnny Morghen)eats shiny,spinning,head-skewering,drill press death.
Originally meant to have a happy ending,Fulci encountered problems editing the film,which forced him to rush the head-scratching finale,forever adding it to the list of non-linear classics like L'Aldila(1979) and Argento's Inferno the same year.Despite what nonsense grit-eating freaks might type out of their asses about this flick on other review sites,this is among the maestro's creepiest,most atmopsheric work during his zombie period.Sergio Salvati's camerawork fleshes out a gloomy,foreboding landscape from which there is a harrowing feeling of no escape,to which Frizzi's stellar soundtrack only heightens.The performances are solid,and Morghen entertains,as always,as the lovably tragic kook.Though it may not sit atop a list of my favorite Fulci efforts,it remains a solid,and memorable ride,nonetheless,and well worthy of repeated viewings,which,you should have under your belt already if Italian horror films are indeed your bag.How about Stacie Ponder,though,huh?And to Lucio...Manco i tua cinematografo, io mi rammarico della tua morte troppo presto, e tu sei il maestro per sempre a me.

I wanted to squeeze the brains out of the back of Christopher George's head for years.


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"House on the Edge of the Park"(1980)d/Ruggero Deodato

David Hess plus straight razor plus party full of snooty women equals cinematic GOLD!
When Ruggero Deodato(of "Cannibal Holocaust" fame)signed on the quintessential celluloid psychopath,David Hess(Last House on the Left,Autostop Rossosangue),and paired him with Italy's favorite whipping boy,Giovanni Lombardo Radice(City of the Living Dead,Cannibal Ferox,The Church),then gave them a supporting cast that included Lorainne DeSelle and Annie Belle to play with,I'm sure he KNEW what kind of magical insanity he'd end up with.He has since downplayed this film and questioned its merit,but let uncle B.W. set the record straight:They don't get any better than this!

David Hess as Alex,a modern day Barber of Seville.
Alex(Hess) works at a Park n' Lock in Manhattan,when he's not stealing cars,or raping/strangling petite blondes from discotheques.Ricky(Lombardo Radice)is his somewhat goofy pal,who channels Tony Manero from "Saturday Night Fever"(if he was retarded).When a couple of posh socialites(Annie Belle,Christian Borromeo)having some car trouble unwittingly look to the dynamic duo for help,Alex is more concerned with boogying,Ricky gets their engine purring in no time flat.Alex,taken with the girl's ample curves and silk stockings,puts a raincheck on discodancing,and decides to attend the couple's social gathering in New Jersey,with Ricky grinning sadistically in tow.Before they embark on the party,Alex backtracks to the locker in his office.Hmmmm,straight razor.I'm probably gonna need that.
At the party,Alex and Ricky are fish out of water,surrounded by well-to-do snobs who treat them like a sideshow exhibit.Lisa(Belle)is a pricktease of the highest caliber,not the least bit impressed by Alex's banana yellow blazer and vest,while Ricky mixes liquor,striptease,and boogying for the party guests,who laugh at his expense when he collapses to the ground in his underwear,all boogied out.Ricky joins the partygoers for a fixed game of cards,where he loses every round,while Alex joins Lisa for a relaxing shower upstairs,which she bows out of prematurely,leaving Alex with blue balls and a wet afro.At this point,Alex comes downstairs to supply Ricky with more cash,and oversee their dirty poker dealings.

Johnny Morghen gets to third base with Lorainne DeSelle.
When the snobs realize their snooty games are over,Howard and Tom(Gabriele Di Giulio,Christian Borromeo)try to ratpack Alex.Big mistake.Streetfighting you don't learn watching Savalas on tv(who Hess strongly resembles,only with an afro).Alex bashes Tom's face repeatedly into a tabletop,then beats Howard out to the inground pool,before kicking him into it,then pissing in his face as he helplessly struggles to climb out.Alex says,"Ho!Ho!Ho!Ha!Ha!Ha!",as the piss-covered partier is humiliated.Now,with the male(?) partygoers subdued,Alex lights a joint and the real party begins.Alex commands Ricky to rape Gloria(DeSelle)in front of the horrified guests,which he is unable to do.He manhandles Glenda(Marie Claude Joseph) and calls her "Roots",as she is bald and black.He takes Lisa upstairs and rapes her,which she starts to enjoy(!) halfway through.He slices Tom's face open with his razor,calls him a faggot repeatedly,then ties Howard up underneath a table,leaving him to watch the rest of his hijinks helplessly.Ricky chases after Gloria who tries to run for help,then scores a piece of sympathy-pussy from her outside the house.

Cindy...Oh,Cindy...Cindy,don't let me down.
Cindy(Brigitte Petronio),a flirty,pubescent virgin,rings the doorbell,and Alex kicks into high gear.He strips her in front of the guests and throws her to the couch,where he slashes her with his trusty straightrazor,laughing maniacally.At this point,Ricky decides Alex just may have taken their fun too far(!) and tries to stop him,earning himself a hearty belly slash from Alex's implement of Hell.The snobs then turn the tide on Alex,shooting him multiple times with a pistol they had hidden in a drawer(once in the junk...ouch!)as he screams in agony,falling into the pool in slow-motion.The partygoers reveal the whole thing was a setup,and that the blonde Alex raped and strangled at the outset was Tom's sister.They take pity on the wimpering Ricky,who is bleeding out on the floor.

They say you always remember your first time...and you WILL remember Alex,won't you?
Media Blasters dvd release of this cult classic stands as the one to buy,with Deodato/Hess/Lombardo Radice interviews,trailers,poster gallery,and a beautiful print of the film.Hess and Lombardo Radice are two of my favorite actors,Deodato one of my favorite directors,and this twisted tale of rape,torture,and revenge is guaranteed to satisfy.Some critics of the film claim it goes too far,but only a discodancing idiot would fail to see the movie's many strengths,strong characterizations and message therein.So,if you're up for some party fun,served up by David Hess(so long as you can overlook his full nude scene...blech.)give La Casa Sperduto nel Parco a try.As you think to yourself, it can't get any crazier,remember:You must be cartooning,the best is yet to come!

Four out of four B.W.'S
Johnny Morghen shows them how he really dances it: