Monday, July 28, 2014

Shouldn't Art Be More... Artistic?


OK, for serious, Hollywood.  STOP making "found footage" films.  For real.  Stop.  Just stop.  I mean it.

Because if I have to sit through another piece of trash like Mr. Jones, I will seriously shoot myself and implicate the director as the sole reason behind my suicide.  I don't CARE if it makes me look like a fuckin' loony.  I will tell the damn truth and let the world know that the reason I'm fuckin' dead is because of cheap-ass producers who don't want to pay for a damn screenwriter.

COUGH IT UP, HOLLYWOOD!  I KNOW you gots the cash.  If you DON'T then where are my fuckin' twelve dollars a pop gettin' to?  I'm betting on five dollar whores with an assload of cocaine lined up on their backsides in expensive hotel rooms to make the girls feel fuckin' pretty.

Don't let the pictures fool you.  This is pure FF bullshit.
If a Hollywood producer who makes found footage films tells you you're pretty, he's lying.


So, this steaming pile takes place in the woods.  Because these jackholes moved there.  To be alone and try to make a documentary and be all hippy-dippy commune-y or some bullshit.

Of course, dudehole stops taking his medication which is talked about for 5 fucking minutes and then completely forgotten about, even though you think they're gonna use some "unreliable narrator" goodness.

They don't.

So, yeah, they find a scarecrow, or at least a crude approximation of one.  Turns out this is an art piece by the mysterious Mr. Jones.

They invade his fuckin' house, too.  Nosy bitches.
And, you know what?  That's about all you need to know. 

Somebody was trying to work out their vegan, tree-hugger, PETA-loving, Mother Goddess (not that there's anything wrong with any of this by itself) bullshit.  They were trying to force us into being all "oooooooh, protect the nature" and shit.  Only they were too damn vague and 90% of the viewers would not get it.  All they would see is the stupid-ass craziness that doesn't mean a damn thing.

Yep.  This?  Stolen by El Douchebag.
This is a humongous fail-weight that destroys everything it touches.  It causes the black pit where I used to have a soul weep inky darkness.  If I HAD a song in my heart, I would skip this with it.

No, seriously.  Skip it.

What the fuck, people, RUN!!  Run far and fast and then, when you think you can't run any more, run some more.  Escape this movie as is your life depends on it.  Because it does.

Saturday, July 19, 2014


We've been over this before, kids.





Add that to the fact that I love perky goths and Morticia Addams is a personal hero and, well, y'all knew I was fucked up BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT!

So, I was just puttering around online and I spied a title that caught my eye.  It seemed so... derivative and trite.  Ripe for the picking really.  I figured, "Hey!  Blog-fodder!  I need something to really let loose on."

Now, you also know that I love anthology films (SOOOO MANY LINKS... search the page for serious), so I went into this thinking I would like maybe one or two and the rest would be crap.

Motherfucker, was I wrong.

See, when I picked this up, I was thinking it had something to do with the Penny Dreadful late night show in Massachusetts but, no, it's got nothing to do with it except that she has a werewolf pal and likes to watch movies.  Speaking of which, I think this may have been filmed in the Castro theater but I can't say for sure.  It looks a lot like the theater used in All About Evil.

I could be wrong.
So, yeah.  The wraparound is that Penny wants to get her first "True Love's Kiss" which, we can all plainly see her zombie butler wants to give her in the worst way but she manages to score a couple of dates for the evening.  She makes them watch movies with her to gauge their reaction.  She's disappointed but we aren't.

The first clip is short but effective and reminds me that creepy nursery rhymes are creepy for a reason.

Jack-in-the-Boxes are totally meant to scare kids.  Quit lying to yourselves.
The second clip is a relatively tame and slightly meandering vampire tale which is OK.  Not bad but not great.

And stars the Itty-Bitty-Titty Committee.
The third, and longest, is a tale of 6 stoners who, for some stupid reason, are hunting a cannibal clan which isn't a cannibal clan at all.  Jeffrey Coombs plays his role HILARIOUSLY in this one and that makes it my favorite.  Plus, there's Sid Haig.  He's a staple.  Not an ACTUAL staple.  Get a dictionary. 

Stop looking at me like that.
No, for real, kids, this is the shit.  It's a little flat but it's an Indie, whattayagonnado?  It's still perfectly entertaining and with the psychopathic, psuedo-Victorian, stitched-up woman-child running the show, it's fucking DELIGHTFUL.  I loved every minute of the deliriously dizzy Penny and her half-baked crew.  They were FUN! 

Like, I wanted them to be real people so I could watch movies with them (without talking) and join them on hair-brained, cartoon-y adventures and live with them in their abandoned movie theater and help them dispose of the bodies.  They need to have their own Saturday Morning cartoon.  I would buy all the toys and the lunchbox and the t-shirts and the cereal (with the free mini-hatchet inside) and the video game and ALL THE EVERYTHING!

Because they said so.
PLUS!  Plus.  While this has some gore, there's not really that much and there IS a little bit of sexy-fun-time and just a touch of drug use but I would say that this is safe to let the older kids watch with no actual nudity.  It's not overly scary and that layer of Hello Kitty cuteness that Penny brings undercuts any kind of serious fear.  I'd rate this at a PG-13, personally (even though most of the PG-13 horror out there is utter crap).

This one didn't get a lot of press but if you can find it, DEFINITELY give it a watch.  You'll giggle in the RIGHT way.  For truly.

The only downside?  A whole lot of unnecessary CGI and a few bad prosthetics.  They do not detract from the movie at all. It's also trope-heavy as fuck but that has more to do with the mild lampooning of horror that makes this so gratifyingly giddy.

GO!  Get yourself some popcorn and load yourself up on sugar (except the diabetics because we don't get to have that kind of fun, anymore) and settle in for a fun ride.  You'll thank me for it.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

And This is Why I Don't Trust Homeschooled Kids.

WHEW!  Life got busy all of a sudden.  Busy and scary.  But you're not here for that.  Let's just jump right back on in, shall we?

Somewhere along the way some idjit decided that "spooky" and "heartwrenching" belonged together.  This is not a new thing but it's not something I normally look for in my horror movies.  Despite my disgust for the sob story (because I like to pretend that I have the emotional range of a pencil even though I'm the guy that ends up with sinus issues for a week when I watch Rankin-Bass Christmas specials), occasionally one comes along that works.

And that's where 2013's We Are What We Are comes in.

A remake of the Mexican film, Somos lo que hay (2010), the film follows two VERY sheltered teenage girls, Iris and Rose, and their father, an extremely religious man after the death of their mother who has a seizure on the way home from the grocery store in a downpour..  From that point forward, the girls are expected to carry on their mother's religious duties.

Sounds all drama-riffic, right?

Yeah, no.

Gosh, CHEST freezers come in handy...  Yes, I know it was bad.  Sue me.
So.  The family is a cannibal clan.  It's not even subtle about it.  I'm sure the kids have known for years that long pig barbeques nicely.  And now they're all, "Y'know?  Maybe I don't WANT to have to butcher the butcher or skin the schoolmarm to get a decent meal.  Can't we just go to Mickey D's?  Seriously, there's one right down the street."

But noooooo.  Dad has to be all, "I'm the head of the household and your religious leader so you're gonna fast until it's time for the slashy-slashy."

This guy?  Collateral damage.  And the local deputy.  And boinking a cannibal.
This is a GOOD movie though so you're not getting any more out of me on it.  You'll have to watch it for yourselves.  It's a SLOW burn, so be prepared for that.  Like, stock up on munchies BEFORE you sit down because putting this on pause for a minute makes you miss details.

Seriously, though, this one is dramatic without being melodramatic and it could have easily crossed that line. You feel for the girls even knowing what they are and knowing that THEY know what they are.  They want to get out of the life they were handed and it comes down to some pretty drastic measures.   Even the smaller parts have some sympathetic qualities.  The little brother they want to protect.  The local boy that Iris has a crush on.  The neighbor (Kelly McGillis) who offers a vegetarian meal (HA!).

Does it LOOK like we want your damn 5-bean salad?
And the tension builds throughout.  It doesn't peak and valley, it crescendos. You come out of this one satisfied, you really do.  It takes a while to get where it's going but from there it takes you to some awesome new places that seem familiar but really aren't.  I thoroughly enjoyed it and I think you will, too.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Update-y stuff

Hey, all.  I have had a NASTY couple of weeks and I'm headed to visit the in-laws so I can't really post again for another week or so (but I'll have my laptop with me so if I can sneak one in here and there over the next week, yay for me).

Just didn't want you thinkin' I deserted ya.

Friday, June 20, 2014

UGAT2014: Samwise Gains a Level in Badass

And so it comes to my last entrie for Ultimate Gore-a-Thon 2014 and I'm going to do something... Expected.

Since I've already covered both of the previous Cabin Fever films, I'm just going to say "In for a penny" and go ahead and give you my utterly unsolicited opinion regarding Cabin Fever 3: Patient Zero.  And you can't stop me.  Nyaah.

I have to tell you I came into this with dread.  Fear and loathing were my constant companions as I re-entered the world of a flesh-eating virus that strikes in minutes rather than days.  Hatred infused my veins as I started the movie, wanting to deck the director if this had so much of a whiff of the stench of the other two.

Fuck me if I wasn't shocked as hell.  I actually... *shudder*... LIKED this one.  Probably because Ti West was nowhere near this fucker.  

The fact that I want to bone Sean Astin is completely beside the point.
This third installment of what, to now, has been an abysmal sack of rotten cocks, has an intelligent plot, decent acting (for the most part), gruesome special effects and humor that doesn't always meander straight over the line to Toilet-land.

This isn't to say that there isn't plenty to poke sticks at, though.

First off, this thing is trope-heavy as HELL!  See this guy?

Selfish McDickface.
This guy is a scientist that isolated the LAST outbreak of this shit and found the ONE guy that's immune to it (Sean Astin, above), and DAMMIT if he's not going to find a cure come Hell or high water because that will make him the most famous scientist in the ever-est of ever and fuck all of you because I'm awesome and y'all are dicks.  Of course, since the one guy is immune to it they can't just, y'know, let him leave.  Naturally, he's pissed about it and he figures out a way to get that shit spread to the entire complex because fuck it.

Enter our stupid young adults.  Not teens this time.  Shocking.

Beer.  You're drinking it wrong.
Of course, these dicks are on a vacation in CENTRAL AMERICA (idjits) because one of them is getting married.  So his brother and his business partner (along with his, unbeknownst to the rest of them, ex-girlfriend who happens to be fucking his brother, now) decide to take his bachelor party to a deserted island (idjits) whereupon they will snorkel and cavort with much booze and weed. Because THAT'S smart.

And, natch, the island they happen to land on houses the scientific compound where all but three of the scientists are really, truly and utterly dead.  (Except one guy but he gets his face mushed.)

And, because this virus has many vectors, the ocean around the island is a fucking graveyard, as discovered by the brother and the fuck-toy.  They discover that it's communicable like this:

Way to earn your red wings.
Fucking seriously, people.  If someone has visible signs of a skin infection, which she did and they were pointed out well in advance, DON'T HAVE SEX WITH THEM!  Get them to a fucking doctor.  Toot-fucking-suite.  Pronto.  NOW, asslick!


So, yeah.  Additional hijinks ensue, including tunnels filled with the dead, sympathetic scientist, bimbo scientist with a faceful of rotten flesh and a goddamn rotted catfight.  Because we all need to see formerly hot girls get their tits literally ripped off.

Yes, yes, we see your fakeys.
All-in-all, though, this was a decent romp and I THANK director Kaare Andrews for taking a shitshow and making it actually fun to watch.

Well, as much fun as a disease they treat with BLEACH can be, anyway.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

UGAT2014: Damn! I'm DELICIOUS!
Clicky der Linkie

OK, in the pages of Tropefest, we've already covered the Cannibal Clan, so how do we take that a step further and really gross you little piggies out?  I KNOW!

We all know that the eating of human flesh is among the most taboo of subjects but, hey, they don't call us long pig for nothin'.  We are, seriously, the other white meat.  Nobody eats the skin, so that statement is not in the least racist, anyway, which I think is ridiculous because that's the best part of a meat thing.  All crispy and delicious with the fat running underneath and stuff.  But, seriously, don't eat people.  Kuru is a horrible thing and should be avoided at all costs.

BUT, when it comes to horror, eating people is totally a thing.  A fucking disgusting and beautiful thing.  A thing that we horror freaks love, so it keeps getting put in movies and TV shows and just all over the damn place.  And what do we do when something becomes commonplace?  We switch it up a bit and thus the depiction of autocannibalism (alos called autosarcophagy) was born.

Damn, man!  Use a napkin!
Yep.  Now we have people eating themselves like they're made of candy or some shit.  Because there's nothing more disturbing to the normal person who's afraid of death than someone who's not only not afraid of it but enjoys the thought of it so much they would sink their teeth into their own arm and chew off a hunk.  Never mind the veins and arteries that, seriously, are gonna make you bleed out before you can have a second helping, just nosh away because dammit, you're tasty.

In all seriousness, though, this trope is fiuckin' everywhere, even in nature (as shown above) and classical mythology.  Some animal gets a wild hair up it's ass or gets caught in a trap and gnaws it's own leg off.  We even make a joke about it being the last resort if we want to get out of bed and not wake up the unfortunate trick we took home last night.  Some asshole gets angry at the heavens, shakes his angry fist at the sky and realizes that his ham-fist actually looks like ham and noshes away.  In commercials we get cereal that wants to eat itself if you don't do it for it.

Sausage Festival.
In horror movies and shows, though, there are some particularly juicy examples.  In Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child, Freddy manages to get his claws into Greta and forcefeed her her own intestines in handy bite-sized chunks.  J-horror gives us Splatter in which the obese girl starts frying up portions of herself  Hannibal (both the movie AND the show), lets us get a glimpse of what Monsieur Lecter did to Mason Verger.  Here's a hint:  He made Mason eat his own dick, nose and part of his face.

Who's a handsome boy, den?!?
Even the Beatles' Yellow Submarine gave us the Vaccuum Monster that ate its own universe and then, because there was nothing else, sucked itself up, too. 

Not all examples are just because the person wants to or is just plain crazy, by the way.  Sometimes they're forced, either by threat of starvation ( Pizza the Hutt in Spaceballs ate himself when he got stuck in his car.) or actual force, as in the Hannibal example.  In comics, they occasionally eat clones or copies of themselves.  Marvel's Multiple Man became the new Wendigo by eating a clone of himself and Vandal Savage regained his own immortality the same way.

And in real life, we have what's known as "wolf-biting" where a person chews the skin around their fingers as they bite their nails.  It's a horrible habit but you really just can't help yourself.  Also in real life, we have this guy:

Rachel Ray said I was yummo.
Bernd Jurgen Brandes met up with Armin Meiwes on March 9th, 2001.  During the course of that meeting, Mewes severed Brandes' penis, cooked it and tried to serve it to him (it was burnt, though, and therefore inedible) before stabbing him in the throat, hanging him on a meathook and butchering the body for later consumption.  Grimm Love (Rohtenburg) was directly based on the story.

Leave it to the Germans to fuck life up AGAIN.

So, yeah.  I think the moral here is that any social taboo can always be made worse.  I blame bad parenting.

And now I want pork chops.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Ultimate Gore-A-Thon 2014: The Sickening Sequel!

It's BACK! And gorier than ever.  Because that's how we roll, yo.

ANYWAY, since I didn't focus at ALL on gore last year, I'ma gonna give it to you in SPADES this year.  Shovelfuls.  Buckets.  Mostly because it's stinkin' up the place and I'm a delicate fuckin' flower.

In other news, Ti West still needs to be beaten with an oar.  Because before he gave us pseudo-80's, retro-not-inspired hipster horror, he apparently sucked Eli Roth's dick so much that Roth had to let him direct something to get him to uncork.  And we ended up with Cabin Fever 2: Spring Fever.

For those of you unaware of the franchise (and, frankly, if you're reading this, you are probably not unaware), Cabin Fever was all about a flesh-eating bacteria infecting a group of campers all unknowingly and causing untold mayhem because they were too stupid to go to the fucking hospital.  Now, we all knew how this was gonna go down if there was a sequel.  That shit was going to spread like the measles at Jenny McCarthy's house.

And it does.  At a school.  Just before Prom.  Because proms are never safe in a horror movie.  Horny teens all sweaty in expensive clothes they'll only wear once are ripe for the pickin', it seems.  So, yeah, and it's because of the world's obsession with bottled water which, seriously?  Does not come from a magical spring in the mountains of Katmandu no matter what they tell you.

Yeah... Bathroom BJs are... ummm... yeah...
I... I can't... I don't...  See, I REEEEEALLLY didn't want to watch this.  And it turns out that  I was right not to want to.  From the moment we see a kid get a blowjob in the bathroom from Hazel the Happy Herpetic Whore to watching the same kid remove his finger nail and THEN TRY TO GLUE IT BACK ON HIS PUS-FILLED DIGIT to watching the big girl lose her virginity (and a tooth) and then bleeding out through her vag in the school pool, to the janitor pissing chunky, syrup-y blood in the punchbowl all the way through the end of the (sadly and unfortunately Ocean-Disco-themed) prom, this movie is gross but that's about all it gives us.

Blood and puke do not bounce on light-up dance floors.
Well, it DOES give us Noah Segan, whom I like, and the cute gay daddy-bear principal and his man-mountain of a husband who shows up for all of three seconds being all nelly with his waxed moustache and kids being tear-gassed and choking to death on their own blood in the school gym but, really?  This is trashy, z-grade filth.  Normally, I'd be all about that kind of thing but I just did not care for it.

I'm guessing it was because Ti West has no concept of the balance between horror and comedy because he's the worst horror director, ever, besides Adam Wingard, and I have a feeling that horror-comedy is what he was going for. Fail.

Plus this guy playing the cop should be driving a pedo-van.
Even the cartoon sequences were fucking awful, man.  That was some tacked on bullshit.

I mean, yay, props for gallons of fake blood but, for real, man, this movie was weak.  Weak and helpless like a baby kitten.  Weak like Skyline Chili.

Also, gross like Skyline Chili.  For realsies, never eat there.