A Yucky Monster

Joseph Javorsky, a Soviet scientist, defects to the U.S. Welcome to the land of 24-hour liquor stores, Joe. While being chased to death by his former KGB neighbors through the Yucca Flat desert, he stumbles onto a nuclear testing range. Nice timing – an atomic bomb was being exploded for commercial applications.

Patches of Joe’s skin gets flambéed, but his white shirt miraculously withstands the devastating effects of nuclear radiation. For no other reason than to give him something to do, Javorsky wanders around like a pension drunk and becomes a maddened “beast” who strangles everyone he meets.

Then some guy with military experience goes up in a small plane and shoots at anything that moves, which happens to be a father out looking for his lost sons. Dad himself gets shot several times, but doesn’t bleed or die. Javorsky, though, dies at the end, with a little desert bunny hopping around his corpse. Bunnies are so darn cute, especially fuzzy ones. (Bald bunnies, not so much.) Wonderin’ why the bunny wasn’t mutated after hip-hopping around the testing range. Maybe this species has lead fur.

The Beast of Yucca Flats (1961) was filmed without sound and all the zinging gunshots, sound effects and dialogue were added later. I’m all for saving a buck, but this is below low. Worst movie ever? If not, it’s definitely next in line.

Embarrassing Horror

Agoraphobia is defined as a type of anxiety disorder in which you fear and often avoid places or situations that might cause you to panic and make you feel trapped, helpless or embarrassed. For me, that wold be every place except a cocktail lounge. You could say I have reverse agoraphobia.

Agoraphobia is the hook for Shut In (2015), a new horror indie currently (as of today) in post-production. I don’t know what they do in post-production. They should use that time to come up with a better movie title.

So here what be happenin’ – “Anna suffers from agoraphobia so crippling that when a trio of criminals break into her house, she cannot bring herself to flee. But what the intruders don’t realize is that agoraphobia is not her only psychosis.”

Sounds like Home Alone (1990) with die/kill/bleed.

Stoned Demon God

The Japanese term Daimajin translates to good ’ol English as Great Demon God. (I wonder what my term translates to in Japanese? Probably Great Beer God. I like that. Thank you, Japan.)

Daimajin is also the title of the 1966 horror fantasy movie about a gigantic stone statue that comes to life and squashes people. There is nothing about that sentence I don’t like.

It’s bad enough the downtrodden villagers in ancient Japan are enduring a series of tremors (or “mini quakes”); on the flip side you have their leader Lord Hanabasa in constant arguments with the super mean and cruel Samanosuke. The quakes are attributed to the spirit of the Daimajin trapped in a nearby mountain and is trying to bust a move. The meanness of Samanosuke is attributed to him just being a dick.

Samanosuke uses the villagers superstitions against them and to overthrow (i.e., kill) Lord Hanabasa, thus ruling with an iron fist (i.e., sword). His reign is highlighted with torture, stabbings, eye gougings, and assorted punchings, leading to a slave labor workforce.

Shinobu, the village’s local priestess, has had enough of this crap and, after a long story involving other story-padding characters, warns about the Daimajin coming to smash evil.

Samanosuke chortles at the stone Samurai and sends his posse to go beat the revered stone statue into bite-sized chunks. When the army starts pounding a huge railroad spike into Daimajin’s forehead, the statue comes alive and breaks free of his dirt cage. It’s clobberin’ time.

Stomping its way towards the village, Daimajin’s face changes into that of a pissed of Shogun with a facial expression that looks like the railroad spike was pounded into Daimajin’s glory hole. It’s as if the demon god was sold at a Pottery Barn™ managed by Slayer.

Doing what only a 25 meter tall ticked off stone creature can do, Daimajin, who only makes its appearance an hour (!) into the movie, stomps, crushes, squishes and squashes Samanosuke’s bully squad into egg rolls.

But wait, Daimajin is unable to distinguish evil from reverse evil, and begins swinging his wrecking balls all over the village, wiping out years of shabby architecture. It’s only when a chick cries at Daimajin’s dirty feet that it’s spirit is released and goes zooming off as a UFO-esque orb, leaving it’s husk to crumble all over the place. Guess who has to clean up that mess?

There were two more sequels: Return of Daimajin (1966) and Daimajin Strikes Again (1966). Yes, all three were released in the same year. I think they just reused the original Daimajin monster. Way to milk that sacrificial cow.

Submerisble Horror

Below (2002) is a haunted submarine story loaded with underwater speak. For instance, “Tall grass outside” means big waves on the surface. “Brillo pad” means there’s a woman on board. (Heh.) And “Make a hole” is more or less self-explanatory, especially if the vessel is the U.S.S. Pillow Biter.

That said, all this authentic dialogue makes the horror of a WWII submarine being hunted by Germans above with depth charges and grappling hooks, and sailors dying in freakish accidents while being hunted by a ghost below makes all that more gratifying.

It’s when the sub incurs substantial damage that the crew begin to suspect their submersible war tube is haunted. Eerie voices are heard coming out of portholes. And when you look in the mirror your reflection doesn’t quite reflect your motion. That is so messed up, especially if you’re trying to shave.

The freak accidents have the crew on edge as the new captain slowly starts to sink into madness. A supermodel nurse slowly pieces together the skin-crawling truth, adding more creepiness to this above average spooker. In all a very floatable horror flick, but couldn’t they have at least wrote in a cameo for Aquaman? He could’ve supplied his own bubbles.

Historical Monster Hunters

From Ross Patterson, the guy who brought us FDR: American Badass (2012) now comes Helen Keller vs. Nightwolves (release pending 2015).

In American Badass, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, our 32nd president, ends the Great Depression (good, that thing was depressing), puts a stop to Prohibition (to this day I am thankful) and fights Nazis even though he’s confined to a wheelchair after contracting polio from a werewolf bite. I am all up for re-electing him.

In Helen Keller vs. Nightwolves, a group Nightwolves terrorize a tiny village taking people’s hearing and eyesight. Hmm – this sounds like one of those insensitive Helen Keller jokes. (Someone wrote on the movie’s Facebook page about the ad materials: “Will this poster be available with braille?”) Ironically, the movie poster does use braille under the title. Clever, yet kinda tasteless. So yeah, I’m down with it.

Still, I’m intrigued by the idea that a deaf and blind girl, armed only with knives, is able to take on a pack of werewolves and quench her thirst for bloody revenge. (The movie implies that it was the Nightwolves are what originally took away her sight and hearing. Again, not cool to make sport of Helen’s famous handicap. But the douchebag I am finds taste in the tasteless.

On that note, I’m making an assumptive leap here; the enemy may not be actual werewolves, but rather non-werewolves. The trailer, which doesn’t reveal much, shows actual wolves roughhousing it up. But why would nature’s gangstas go after your eyes and ears, all the while leaving delicious entrails behind? Real werewolves wouldn’t do that.

I hear Helen Keller sure plays a mean pinball. (I’ll wave to you on my way to Hell.)

Loving The Monster

While romance has always been a motivating force in horror movies (start with Dracula/1931 and go from there), my personal feeling is that all that dreamy-eyed smoochy crap doesn’t belong anywhere near blood, guts and gore. And what is a horror movie without blood, guts and gore? A ROMANCE movie. Over generalizing here. But I’d rather see more Beast than Beauty, thus representing the way things work in the real world.

The reason I even bring it up is there’s this new (as of March 2015) horror-ish movie many with too much time on their hands are gushing about. The film is the daintily titled Spring, a love story about a guy falling in love with a chick who harbors a “monstrous, primordial secret that puts both their relationship and their lives in jeopardy.” OK, that part is cool. But hey, what woman doesn’t harbor a monstrous, primordial secret? Talk about your obvious oxymoron.

Spring has the endorsement of Drafthouse Films™, so it probably doesn’t suck as those guys are pretty dang good at what they represent. So here’s what the flip everybody’s tweeting over…

“Spring is a lush piece of work about Evan, a young American fleeing to Europe to escape his past. While backpacking along the Italian coast, everything changes during a stop at an idyllic Italian village, where he meets and instantly connects with the enchanting and mysterious Louise. A flirtatious romance begins to bloom between the two. However, Evan soon realizes that Louise has been harboring a… (see first paragraph).”

The press release goes on to say that Louise’s other forms are “something else altogether, and their origins are beautiful. Much of the film finds beauty in the monstrous and otherworldly.”

So if otherworldly love floats yer boat, seek out this movie. If you need a primer, I recommend the jaw-dropping horror fantasy Pan’s Labyrinth (2006), while full of otherworldly monsters that hug you (one, anyway) and panoramic beauty, isn’t waterlogged with smooching, the talking of smooching or the exchanging of bodily fluids that are anything but red. Red’s a romantic color.

I can’t believe I just said that.

Loving The Dead

Messed. Up.

How else to describe the story of two bored teenage boys who break into an abandoned mental institution, find a basement door rusted shut, pry it open with a crowbar (all mental institutions have plenty on hand), and come across (ahem) a nude, feral-looking woman strapped to a table, and decide to keep her as a love slave?

They discover she can’t be killed after one of the boys, while having his, uh, romantic way with her, “accidentally” strangles her, breaking her neck and causing plum-colored bruises. The other teen, overcome with an icky feeling about how this is all wrong, decides, hey, not cool.

The horny dude lets another friend in on the secret, and the next thing you know, the woman has a bunch of new boyfriends. Pretty distasteful stuff, until the school football jock bullies find out about it and are goaded into “gang dating” the woman. You have to avoid being bitten by her as it will make you dead but still alive. Your innards will rot completely out of your butt, though.

The emo teen, thinking a living girl might make for a better relationship, makes emo eyes over the high school hottie, but she’s having none of it. This coincides with the other guys deciding they need a new dead girlfriend because this one is worn out. If you can add one plus the other one, now would be the time to do it.

Despite Deadgirl’s (2008) repugnant subtext, those guilty are paid back in spades. And hey, there’s even some dang funny moments not involving the undead girl that will help take your mind off the subject matter. You’ll need it.

Soul With Nowhere To Go

In the spook classic Carnivals of Souls (1962), a young woman drives her car off a bridge and dies, but she’s too blonde to realize it.

A male pattern baldness zombie ghoul ghost relentlessly pursues her to welcome her to the club. This goons her out.

It also irritates the woman as all she wants to do is wash her hair and field pick-up lines from the alcoholic swinger living downstairs in the boarding house she’s shacked up in. Her best line: “I’d rather die than go out with you.” 

Funny she should word it that way.

President Shark

Usually I’m a big believer in something that’s worth doing is worth overdoing. (Start with refreshing cans/bottles of refreshing Budweiser™ and go from there.)

The reason I say that is I’m not a 100% hedonist. Thinkin’ maybe 98.3% tops. So if I apply that formula to the 2013 cult sci-fi hit Sharknado (upper end of the indulgent odometer) and 2014’s Sharknado 2: The Second One (about 64%), it stands to reason that the impending Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No!, slated for release in late July 2015, while clearly going to the well once too often, should come in at 41% on my gluttony-for-bad-movies scale. Why? What else can they do with the plot?

Here’s the filmmaker’s argument: “The battle between man and nature lands on the steps of the Nation’s capital where the latest storm is threatening to destroy everything from Washington D.C. to Florida. It’s up to returning heroes Tara Reid and Ian Ziering to squash this storm for good. Also appearing in the third film will be Mark Cuban as the President of the United States, Ann Coulter as the VP, Chris Jericho as a roller coaster operator, and Jerry Springer as a tourist.”

Ugh. You know you’re scraping bottom when you put Jerry Springer in your movie.

So will I watch Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No!? Maybe. Depends on how many refreshing cans/bottles of Budweiser™ I have under my belt.

Brown Bag Demonic Possession

The Vatican Tapes, a horror movie about demonic possession and the mocking of the collection plate, is scheduled for release May 22, 2015. Praise be unto film distributors.

There have been a number of religion based horror (or horror based religion) lately. Too many for me to list as I’m hungry and would rather research a sandwich made with hole-y cheese. (Heh.) And since no movie about demon possession can ever top The Exorcist (1973), the rest come across as savory as a communion wafer. But hey, whatever floats your soul.

The Vatican Tapes concerns the haunting tale of 27-year-old Angela Holmes, who accidentally cuts her finger and ends up in the emergency room. Man, I hope she has insurance because the emergency room is out-of-pocket expensive. And the waiting room stinks, filled with the stench of pension drunks filled with holy spirits (i.e., $2 fortified wine).

Anyway, infection sets in and leads to erratic behavior, and Angela has a devastating effect on anyone in her general direction, causing serious injury and death. Both can be harmful to your long-term health.

Priests, who took the vow of silliness, examine Holmes and believe she is possessed. But when the Vatican is texted to exorcise the demon, the possession proves to be an ancient satanic force more powerful than they imagined.

Movies with this theme all seem to operate under the same business model and come across as pointless given the inevitable set-up: Good vs. Evil, blah, blah, blah. Ironic that most possessions can be attributed to $2 fortified wine. More so when chugged from the Chalice of Benediction, which usually comes in a handy twist top bottle and conveniently wrapped in a brown paper bag.