"Il fiume del grande caimano" (1979) d/ Sergio Martino

What kind of Woptober would it be if we didn't examine an Italian Jaws rip-off , only with a giant alligator instead of a monster shark? Sergio Martino's Il fiume del grande caimano, also known as Big Alligator River, and The Great Alligator, seems like a pretty good fit for us tonight, with a cast that includes the late Claudio Cassinelli, Barbara Bach, Mel Ferrer, Richard Johnson, and even precious little Silvia Collatina of "House By the Cemetery aka/ Quella villa accanto al cimitero" fame. I should also mention that the titular great alligator doesn't look all that great. If that was the only problem this movie had, it'd almost be excusable.


"That's what I like about you. You don't look particularly scared of breakin' 'em..." notes Joshua's foreman (Bobby Rhodes).
A high falootin' fashion photographer (Claudio Cassanelli) and his favorite female model (Mrs. Ringo Starr herself, Barbara Bach) get flown in to a jungle resort for a publicity shoot; that the hotel is owned by an unscrupulous paleface developer named Joshua (Mel Ferrer) who exploits the natives for cheap labor is only half of the problem, as the hotel itself just so happens to be built on land that the tribesmen hold most sacred, indeed. I'm no great karmic proponent by any stretch of the imagination, but it seems like that cultural faux pas is only gonna come back and bite him in his ass, proverbially and literally. Meanwhile, lascivious locals paddle off to a nearby shore for some discreet pum pum only to get chomped up like a couple of human Doritos by the resident island god, Kroona, who's chosen to materialize before his humble subjects demanding bloody retribution, in the form of a pathetic, fake-looking prop alligator,  for some inexplicable reason. The photographer, after hearing the nearby cries of distress, assumes the position of "that guy who knows", while the developer instantly becomes Mayor Larry Vaughn, poo pooing the impending death and destruction in favor of prestige and profit, of course.


"He is not here just to suck your mother's breasts... I also expect him to thumb my cinnamon ring like a fucking champeen!"
Cue: Bloody war cry of suddenly furious indigenous island peoples that coincides with the increased frequency of ineffective stiff prop alligator attacks against mildly annoying tourists, while our heroes stumble upon an unhinged, old cave-dwelling coot (Richard 'Zombi 2' Johnson himself) who handily supplies the alligator's prior circumstances for any theatergoers that haven't walked out in disbelief yet. An unfazed Joshua launches a mammoth party barge full of snobbish snackery in defiance of the snapping saurid, whose size fluctuates from barely capable of swallowing human prey to vastly dwarfing a full-sized van, familiar waters for Italian filmmakers who never flinched at the concept of cutting budgetary corners in the name of exploitation cinema, Martino included. It all wraps up as confusingly as you might expect.


Get tied, spreadeagle to a bamboo raft often, baby?
For as much as Martino enjoyed ripping off Spielberg's 1975 box office smash, he also apparently felt that King Kong (1976) could afford to be borrowed from, generously. The script was co-written by the Anthropophagus beast himself, Luigi Montefiori aka/ George Eastman, and there are some great dialog exchanges here that have to be heard to be believed, especially between the single mom ineffectively sneaking around her skeptical offspring. Outrageous.  For lovers of bad genre cinema, Big Alligator is a trashy treasure trove of rotten special effects, putrid acting performances, molasses pacing...so it's not a great revelation that the movie is so much fun to sit through with your buddies, every once in awhile.On the scale though, one Wop sounds like a perfect fit for this one, and thus,  that's exactly what I'm forced to lay on it. Worth a look for hardcore genre nuts.


"Nomnomnom..."

"Brutes and Savages"(1978)d/Arthur Davis

In the midst of a heatwave, with temperatures still at a sweltering 101F at eight pm tonight, your humble N is sweating like Oprah Winfrey wearing a full-length sable on an elliptical trainer during the scirocco in El Azizia.To break the streak of three straight four wop movies, we focus our collective lenses upon what looks to be another Italian mondo documentary upon first glance, but is little more than a cheap British clone of little renown and even less scruples, that's guaranteed to disappoint regardless of what you came into it expecting to see.First(and only, thankfully)time director Arthur Davis promises "1001 forbidden scenes", but delivers "Let's see how many different animals we can throw to the alligators in ninety-one minutes" instead.For serious.Davis plods methodically from one boring South American Indio sequence to another and before the entire production dies a slow and unnatural death, he peppers in staged animal cruelty, and, in at least one seam-ripper of a resounding failure, a phony animal attack that's sure to have you rewinding and laughing out loud at least twice before you frisbee the cursed thing across the room and ragefully call for the heads of all persons responsible for this dismal Synapse release with the misleadingly choice cover art that you paid good money for.It consternates me that soundtrack maestro Riz Ortolani and Richard (Dr. Menard from Fulci's Zombi 2(1980))Johnson lent their presences to this ignoble lampoon.I opted to pass on the Synapse "Special Edition", as my custom DVD burn from the long out-of-print MPI VHS print is all I'll ever need to see.I suppose a synopsis is due.Onwards!

Truth in advertising, my cock.
After the film's producers have the cazzies to flash the words "A Factual Report" across the screen, and a snazzy disco beat(that I'm sure I've heard ripped off in one or more Bruce Li z-grade chopsocky epics) is dropped by Riz Ortolani, we see a montage of unrelated images:Indios-in-Spin-Doctors-hats in canoes, a leopard forced into pawing a wild boar, a snarling cougar, a lanky black dude with a spear in enough theatrical grease paint to choke Marcel Marceau, a cougar pouncing on a bunny, some Yanomamos in a canoe blowdarting a monkey then chucking it onto an open flame before the voice of Richard Johnson leads us to South America, where Davis' "expedition" is about to take place.First we see Arthur Davis and his meatslicer haircut and porn 'stache cozying up to Inca authority Dr. Sanginas, who's gonna chart out the Andes for the foreigner's cameras, and apparently also gonna let Davis choice of a gaudy and wide lavender tie slide just this once.More Inca descendants fishing around swampy reeds in canoes.Next, all lovers of the llama should probably skip ahead in the review, as a head's up.You aren't gonna groove on the next sequence.As a religious event on the Inca calendar, everybody dons their best colorful gypo duds and blow flutes, marching in circles on the beach.A heavyweight Indio gal is primped and preened by the men in the cowboy hats, and it is noted that not long ago, she'd have been the sacrifice.An ornately decorated and unsuspecting llama is brought to shore in a reed boat, after which all its limbs are held down in the sand while it's throat is cut and heart is pulled out, still beating, from it's chest.Then we're treated to more shantytown footage than they'd use in a Desmond Dekker and the Aces video.Then a brown-skinned peon with some lax dental habits lays carnal waste to a native virgin in a Sabrina the Teen Witch headband while swaying in a hammock.Some might say he laid the pipe, Tracie Savage of Friday the 13th Pt.3 in 3D fame would probably vote for the hammock.

"If youuuu...wanna bring me llama hearts...then go ahead nowwww", sing the Spin Doctors in their latest failed comeback attempt.
A juvenile opposum survives a constrictor's venomless strikes only to get its eyes pecked out by an eagle's beak.The bird then grasps the lifeless rodent by its eyesockets and flaps off.Then a hawk makes a meal of a snake, then an alligator chomps one down like writhing live spaghettoni.A juvenile anaconda is coerced into getting snapped down the throat of another large alligator.WTF moment:"When an alligator mates with a crocodile, the offspring is usually a very vicious monster."(When the fuck would that be, since the species don't interbreed like, ever?)Next an armadillo is thrown to the alligators, and we're forced to watch it get crushed in the reptile's formidable jaws.Then some blacks in gresepaint eat raw fiddler crabs and cross a river until an unbelievable alligator hand puppet(why would you substitute something so hokey and fake for an animal you've wasted half the length of your documentary showing?) attacks one of the slower tribesman and through quick cuts and splashing around, is shown to have lost a hand and been maimed by the phony prop.A boring coca leaf farm is followed by equally snore-inducing sheepherding set to the groovy theme music.Out of nowhere comes some impromptu brain surgery footage.Also pretty yawnable.Then we see some pornographic Inca waterbowls with various sex acts depicted upon them.Just when we thought they'd exhausted their staged mondo alligator footage, a mortally wounded jaguar is then thrown to a gaggle of sizeable alligators.Back to the llamas, who are getting it on for the cameras.Finally, two Indios in Spin Doctor hats pretend to bugger a llama from behind.Johnson remarks that violence lurks in all of us, and so does the 'brute', and so does the 'savage'.Then, thankfully, it's all over.

"Mom sees that alligator hand puppet and food dye in the pool, and she's gonna cream ya, Beav', you kook."
Usually a legit shockumentary is packed with enough gritty reality to rend it difficult to watch at certain points, while a hoke-u-mentary is stuffed full of boring filler material, staged hokum, and grainy death camp footage you've seen a hundred times before, making it difficult to watch for all the wrong reasons, and Brutes is no exception to the latter, minus the WW2 sequences, thank the gods.This entry is a piss-poor example of the subgenre, and one that should be avoided at all costs, unless you're an sadistic alligator enthusiast who always wondered what it'd look like if you chucked helpless animals to their watery graves at the jaws of these brutal reptiles.I never really fit into that category, myself, so I give Brutes a very disappointing one wop on the rating scale.Skip it.

See! Backwards stonatas unashamedly give it to llama-caboose simulatedly!

"Zombi 2"(1980)d/Lucio Fulci

We masticate the weekend's tender neckflesh with Lucio Fulci's most well-known film,a box-office smash in Europe,and the subject of multiple bannings and extensive censorship throughout the world.Fulci was suggested as a replacement to direct by Enzo "Great White" Castellari,when the action director turned the script down in its early stages,and the rest,as they say,is history.I first saw this movie in its first run at the American Theater with my late,great Aunt Giulia,who managed to see about 15 minutes of it,due to her frequent lobby visits to smoke cigarettes.Cigarettes and horror movies were her two joys in life,so it's no surprise that she'll always be my favorite Auntie,may her soul rest in peace.My fragile ten year old mind could never have fathomed what it was in for,thus irreparably twisted by what I saw alone in that darkened theater that day.The infamous one sheet proudly hung next to "Maniac!"(1980)in my bedroom until I finally had the common sense to frame the damned thing decades later.Everything about this movie,from the infectious and haunting score by Fabio Frizzi to the arterial spurting goodness of Giannetto De Rossi's effects work,screams masterpiece.The film shot Fulci's career,which was stuck in neutral at the time,into high gear,forever establishing the director as the gory generalissimo of grotesque set-pieces.Arguably one of the greatest horror movies ever made,by one of the greatest directors of genre cinema of all-time.If you're even slightly into horror films,and have passed on this one all this time,I seriously shudder to think what the fuck is wrong with you.Maybe chick flicks are more your speed...

"Put up yer pectoral fins,ya big swimmin' garbage can!",says Aqua-zombie.
When a seemingly abandoned yacht floats into the New York harbor,the investigating patrol officers are surprised by a massive rotting zombie,who proceeds to bite one of the policemen's throat out,before being sent overboard by a flurry of bullets that have little effect on the ravenous walking corpse.After Anne(Tisa Farrow)is questioned about her father's boat by authorities,she joins forces with reporter Peter West(Ian McCulloch),aided by a pair of pleasure cruisers(Pier Luigi Conti and Auretta Gay),to seek out a tiny Carribean island named Matool,where her missing father's last letter came from.Meanwhile,on Matool("That's not a cool place to hit.",says Brian(Conti)),Dr. Menard(Richard Johnson) is fighting an uphill battle against an unknown disease that brings the dead back to life,amidst superstitious villagers and voodoo drums on the other side of the island.His neglected wife,Paola(Karlatos),is on the verge of a nervous breakdown,and seeks refuge at the bottom of a glass of liquor while her husband spends his time peering into microscopes and shooting his patients in the head as they ominously rise from their deathbeds.Back on the boat,Susan(Gay)'s topless snorkelling is interrupted by a huge tiger shark on the prowl,but when she swims to the ocean bottom to momentarily hide from the massive predator,she's attacked by a waterlogged underwater zombie.She retreats to the boat as the zombie and shark duke it out in the depths,the shark chewing the corpse's arm off as the ghoul takes a bite out of the shark's underbelly.

"Would I(wood-eye)??!!"says Paola(Olga Karlatos).
When the foursome reaches Matool,the good doctor informs Anne of her father's fate;molten lead headshot death after becoming infected by a bite from one of the island's undead.He asks the group to check on his wife at their bungalow,but when they arrive they find her being devoured alive by a pack of flesh-crazed zombies,after being pulled through a smashed doorway by the hair and a twelve inch wooden splinter pierces her eyesocket(!!!).When their jeep breaks down in the middle of the jungle,they find themselves smackdab in the middle of an ancient conquistador graveyard,grown over by the lush foliage.After Susan eats throat-tearing,blood-gurgling death administered by rotten zombie teeth,the remaining three rush to the old church where Menard has set up his makeshift "hospital",only to find that its been surrounded by an army of shambling undead ghouls,only shotgun shells and molotov cocktails temporarily keeping them at bay.During the desperate struggle,dead patients rise inside the hospital,eating the doctor's assistants,and finally the doctor himself.As Peter,Anne,and Brian rush to escape to the boat,they're greeted by Susan's zombie who bites her boyfriend's shoulder before taking one lead delivery to the domepiece.The reporter and girl lock the dying seaman below deck,hoping to use him as proof of their incredible tale when they reach the mainland,but are shocked to hear a radio broadcast of New York City hopelessly under siege by flesh-eating zombies.

Ottaviano Dell'Acqua,making one of the more memorable entrances in cinema history.
What can I say about this one that hasn't already been said?It reeks of atmosphere and tension like few zombie films do.Arguments will go back and forth 'til the end of time over which is better,this,or Romero's "Dawn of the Dead"(1979),which was released as "Zombi" in Europe,thus the 2 tacked onto Fulci's title though there are no connections between the films,with no clear cut winner,in most cases.Both are Top Ten in my book,and too drastically different to compare.Fulci went on to tackle the awful Zombi 3 in the Phillipines,originally slated as a 3D release,but the film was left incomplete due to an illness the maestro came down with on location,only shooting roughly sixty percent of the final production,with Italian sleaze king Bruno Mattei finishing the job.Mattei still claims the finished pile of shit is Fulci's,but I think anyone who knows a little about Italian horror movies can draw their own conclusions on who's film it is.As for Zombi 2,don't let me rave on all day about it,see it for yourself.I strongly recommend it and give it the highest rating possible.

I hope Peter Luger's has enough open tables...