Mutual Mutilation

Here’s a fun and educational thing to do: watch an insurance adjuster process fraudulent claims! (OK, I’m being a smidge douche-y here, but work with me.) Jeon Jun-oh is an insurance investigator who checks out people who kill their own family members for cash. That’s probably not a cool thing to do.

Once such guy is filing a claim on behalf of his son’s suicide. The police won’t help Jeon prove it was a murder for some silly reason. And the movie drags on and on. Then something horribly fun happens. Arms are put under industrial paper cutters. Eyes and mouths are stitched up without anesthetic. Stabbings occur to the stomach area. Keys get plunged into eyeballs. Black House (aka, Geomeun jip/2007) is way dull until the last ten minutes, then all holy WTF breaks loose.

The weird guy whom Jeon thought was trying to collect the insurance money was actually acting weird for a reason: someone cut off his arms! No more pouring your own cereal. Jeon’s girlfriend gets abducted because he’s too close to THE TRUTH. A quick search leads him to a veritable human slaughter house that’d give the guy in Saw (2004) a warm fuzzy feeling in his tummy.

The plot is sluggish (made even more tedious with the Korean sub-titles) and stretching things. (People killing people for insurance money? Come on — that stuff doesn’t happen in real life.) But the ending sequence is deliciously gruesome with body parts laying around like festive decorations and such. And I mean that in a delightful way.

Giant Clowns, Demonic Babysitters, Money Storm

It’s pretty much box office fact the It (2017) remake was one of the best horror movies of that entire year — if you don’t count the ongoing horror show in the White House. So leave it to talented artist El Mescalito to recreate Pennywise, the movie’s bowel-loosening monster clown, as a 9-foot tall paper mache sculpture. It gets better — you can buy this living room enhancing piece for $4,000.00. And you won’t have to look down any sewer drains to find it; this incredible objet d’art is currently on display in Santa Monica, CA at the Copro Gallery. (Or you can click HERE)

While we’re all racing around the house to find all the pennies we can to buy it, here are a few upcoming horror/sci-fi movies that may or may not belong in a sewer…

THE LULLABY (March 2, 2018)
“Chloe is overwhelmed by the birth of her first child. The incessant crying of her baby, the growing sense of guilt and paranoia sends her into depression. With a heightened urge to protect her son, Chloe sees danger in every situation. She starts to hear voices, the humming of a childhood lullaby and sees flashes of a strange entity around her child. Convinced that the entity is real, Chloe will do everything in her power to protect her son. Is she haunted by evil or is it just the baby blues?”

May not need to see this movie as my neighbors just had a kid and that thing won’t quit power crying, day or night. Got a dirty look when I bumped into the new father and told him he maybe he should feed it every so often to get it to shut the heck up. (It’s a newborn, so I didn’t use the “hell” word.) Then again, maybe there’s an entity in this apartment building stirring up the kid. Other than me, that is.

HURRICANE HEIST (March 9, 2018)
“A team of tech hackers infiltrate a U.S. Mint facility on a small coastal town to steal $102M in cash, just as a disastrous Category 5 hurricane, the storm of the century, is about to strike and level it to the ground. The only other two people left in the town — a meteorologist and a female treasury agent — must survive the horrific storm while stopping the thieves from getting away with the heist of the century.”

Sounds like The Weather Channel’s version of The Fast And The Furious (2001). Sure hope the hurricane doesn’t cause the criminals to “blow” all that money. Heh.

THE ENDLESS (March 23, 2018)
“Two brothers return to the death cult from which they fled a decade ago, only to find that there might be some truth to the group’s otherworldly beliefs.”

As social clubs go, death cults aren’t that much fun. That, and they dress weird.

THE BODY TREE (2018)
“When a group of Americans travel to Russian Siberia to honor the memory of their murdered friend, they uncover a plot that threatens all their lives.”

Man, I know I’ve seen this movie’s poster art before and…oh, wait — now I remember…

White Trash Vampires and Werewolves

Vampires and werewolves are at each others’ throats (heh) in the ambitious, though low budget Death Hunter: Werewolves vs. Vampires (2010). Who wins? Well, if you’re a human, you already know the answer.

Jack Croix and his market fresh wife whose newly pregnant, get lost driving around the desert and, running out of precious gasoline, pull into a way out of the way dive bar for help. What they get is the drink emporium’s white trash clientele are all vampires. That sucks. (Oh, hey — I just got my own joke!)

Jack’s packin’ a gun and try as he may to perforate them with a weapon that doesn’t seem to run out of bullets, his wife is taken by the vampires and he’s left to wander the desert, where werewolves play in the dirt.

John’s rescued and taken in by a mysteriously hooded man whose own wife was imminent domained by the vampire clan. Since that time, he’s lived in a cave and honed his vampire/werewolf recycling program. And over the next few months, teaches his skillz to John. But dang it, the man got his fleshy parts bitten by a werewolf during an ambush and won’t be alive long enough to pay next month’s dwelling rent.

This causes John to take up the cause, shave his head and face with a hunting knife (no shaving cream for this hunter of death) and set out to get his wife back, who has been turned into a pregnant vampire. Along the way, John runs into two young couples, also lost in the desert, but still managing to play strip poker while driving. The attacking werewolves don’t play strip poker — they play stripped flesh.

During the simmering climax, John locates the vampire stronghold — in a wine cellar — and his wife, who along with the other had vampire concubines — is sleeping standing up. In the desert there are no pillows. If John kills the main vampire, he gets his wife back, defanged and about six months pregnant.The “battle” is so limp as to be uncooked bacon. Very little nudity (opening sequence), and a smattering of blood. Somehow I expected more from dive bar/white trash vampires and wereolves whose boss is a digital video game reject.

Vacation Destination Aliens

Not quite an original premise, but Battle: Los Angeles (2011), a boisterous alien invasion face-slapper, doesn’t try to do anything than be a live action video game. Not suprisingly, I’m okay with that.

For no other reason than to attack because it’s there, aliens do a Pearl Harbor on us and wipe out every major city in the world. Curse their superior military acumen.

Los Angeles, the last block on the block, is overrun with the aliens who are taking the town street by street. They’re kinda hard to kill as the creatures are dressed in a mechani-suit and tie. Their weapons shoot goo and if you get any on you, see ya.

A squad of Marines are dropped into the war zone to rescue civilians, and then get back behind friendly lines miles away. Hope they don’t run into any red lights. Aliens are waiting, though, to make this assignment a challenge. Full blown blow-ups, explosions, gunfire, screaming, running in every direction except the right one… I’d be highly proficient at those last two things during such an invasion.

It’s discovered the extraterrestrial party-crashers are unilaterally controlled by centralized alien headquarters. Blow that up and game over, man. Does it make things ridiculously complicated for the Marines that the extraterrestrial command post is underground? Kinda.

Great opening attack scene, unrelenting battles, a breather Marine pride moment, and then all out “us versus them” explosions. I knew unwelcome aliens could be fun, but this is a downright party!

El Chupacabra vs. The Law

Jack B. Quick is a space sheriff, whose job on Earth, is to eliminate that pesky sucker of goats, the legendary Chupacabra. He’ll have his Jack hands full; this Chupacabra is six-feet tall, looks like a cross between a seafood platter entree and Japanese pro wrestler, and is actually the presumably housebroken pet of Lord Invader.

Sent by the Queen Bee and King Allmedia (are you groaning out loud yet?), Jack has to be Quick around the Chupacabra in order to not get his goat blood sucked or admonished by the Queen, whose shirt stuffers are metaphorically the size of orbiting planets.

Jack chases Chupacabra around in his spacecraft, an early model Plymouth. To assist in his quest, he packs a shotgun (easily purchased throughout the galaxy). He also has to slap Lord Invader upside the head for letting his pet go outside his interstellar front yard. And if all of this doesn’t leave you gasping for logic, rocket ranger Dan Danger (now would be another good time to groan audibly) shows up to verbally walk us through this land mine-ridden story line. If Jack B. Quick succeeds, he’ll be knighted. If not, food stamps.

Working on a budget so low, the actors themselves paid for it (in more ways than one). Guns of El Chupacabra (1997) is a sci-fi comedy with a half-decent monster costume, wincing dialogue/references, and Julie Strain, who I would pay to just see stand there for 90 or so minutes.

The Horror of Exercising

Someone or something is gruesomely canceling gym memberships for the patrons of Los Angeles’ hi-tech Starbody Health Spa, a sort of fitness, nightclub and disco playground where big hair and big muscles populate the landscape.

One fully naked gal is temporarily rendered blind by chlorine steam in the sauna. Another gal belly flops in a pool when the diving board mysteriously unbolts itself. A shower room occupied by super wet supermodels nearly get steam broiled in the locked locker room. A tanning bed turns into a human toaster. A woman gets her hand shredded off in a cocktail blender gone rogue. And a exercise machine literally rips a mullet-wearing guy in half. Feel the burn, then shake it off.

No one can figure out why this poser palace is going awry. Michael Evans, the club’s handsome owner, believes his ghost wife, who earlier doused herself with gasoline and did her impression of a car tire fire, is behind the mutilations/killings. He’s unfortunately right.

His wife’s suicide was never fully explained, but Micheal thinks it’s because she was with child, and then not. As she revenge returns from the grave (leaving typed messages on Mike’s computer, invading his dreams, using the gym’s facilities and skipping out on towel fees), she ends up possessing her brother, who works for Michael and blames him for his sister’s BBQ. Do your best to figure out what happens next.

1989’s Death Spa (aka, Witch Bitch) throws everything into the exercise program — choreographed disco dancing exercise classes, skin-tight work-out spandex, rampant full frontal nudity (a marketing ploy featuring perfectly fit bodies), day-glo clothes, stacked hair and gore scenes so bad, you almost wish they’d cut back to the disco classes. (Note: Disco has never not sucked.) You already know how this movie ends.

P.S. If you want to augment your disco horror fitness regime, watch 1987’s Killer Workout (aka, Aerobicide). Feel the burn, then shake it off.

Rock ‘n Roll Aliens, Giant Bullies, Wiccan Babysitters

Keith Richards, iconic rock guitarist and co-founder of The Rolling Stones, recently interviewed on 98.5 WNCX FM Radio in Cleveland, OH, that not only does he believe in aliens, he claims there’s an actual extraterrestrial landing strip on his expansive property in England. Given how much drugs and alcohol the famous wasted musician has infamously consumed over the last 100 years ago (you got that one, right?), surprised he hasn’t also seen Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, Chupacabra and/or Mothman lurking about his front yard as well. (Then again, he might think they’re just roadies.)

I believe him. Rock and roll wouldn’t lie. So maybe Keith should rewrite some of his songs to support his claim: “Beam Me Up”, “Let’s Spend The Night Together on Uranus”, “Blue Turns To Greys”, “You Can’t Always Get Abducted When You Want”, and “It’s Only Probing (But I Like It)”. I’m thinkin’ platinum sales, here.

While we wait for the Stones’ intergalactic tour, here are a few upcoming horror/sci-fi movies that may or may not give you satisfaction…

I KILL GIANTS (2018)
“A teenage girl chooses to escape the realities of school and a drab family life by retreating into her magical world of titans and giants. With the help of her new friend Sophia and her school therapist, Barbara, will learn to battle her giants and face her fears — tackling the bullies at school, her sister, and her difficult home life.”

I liked it better when it was Harry Potter. Still, giant monsters and difficult home life. I can relate.

HEREDITARY (2018)
“When Ellen, the matriarch of the Graham family, passes away, her daughter’s family begins to unravel cryptic and increasingly terrifying secrets about their ancestry. The more they discover, the more they find themselves trying to outrun the sinister fate they seem to have inherited.”

Big talk about this on the movie/dive bar circuit. I bet Helen’s shameful ancestry has something to do with an unpaid bar tab. Note to matriarchs: dine ‘n dash = NOT COOL.

NIGHTMARE CINEMA (2018)
“The anthology centers on a series of down-on-their-luck individuals who enter the decrepit and spine-chilling Rialto Theater, only to have their deepest and darkest fears brought to life on the silver screen by The Projectionist — a mysterious, ghostly figure who holds the nightmarish futures of all who attend his screenings. By the time our patrons realize the truth, escape is no longer an option.”

Sounds nifty, though for a great “people trapped in a movie theatre while evil beings eat your face and/or popcorn”, try the Italian gore snack bar, Demons (1985). You’ll forget all about your AMC Stubs™ reward points.

THE NIGHT SITTER (2018)
“A scheming con artist poses as innocent babysitter ‘Amber’ to steal from Ted Hooper, a wealthy occult enthusiast with a reclusive son named Kevin. Her crew arrives to clean out the house just as Kevin stumbles upon one of his father’s most prized artifacts and unwittingly summons a trio of witches known as The Three Mothers. As the playful, sadistic witches start picking people off, Amber and Kevin form an unlikely bond and try to survive the night together.”

That would be fun to have witches as babysitters. If you spill a jar of dried frog tongues, there’s plenty of brooms around to sweep ’em up. Wonder if they know any “take out the garbage” spells and/or enchantments? That would so awesome.

Stylish Snake Hat

In the 1970 horror martial arts flick Devil Woman, the night Manda was born in the Philippines, a freak lightning storm came outta nowhere and somehow transformed the crib rat into “a monster.” (Her dad’s words, not mine, as he saw her and crapped his pants. Neither was shown.)

As Manda gets few years under her head wrap (she’s clearly hiding something besides chronic dandruff), the neighborhood kids taunt her and try to take off the stylish turban. Blocking her in an alley, one kid sticks his hand under Manda’s hat and gets his hand bitten by a snake that was lounging under there. This brands Manda as a monster and she’s tormented relentlessly. Later, when she’s grown up to look like she came from the U.S. even though she was Filipino as a child, Manda vows relentless revenge on her formative years’ taunters.

Those who flaunted their taunts should be visibly shaken — Manda is indeed a monster and has the power to control snakes to do her bidding. This leads to hazardous conditions as the entire village is surrounded by dirt and woods where snakes make their living, a supportive argument for revenge law and demand supply.

Enter a Chinese kung fu master who wears a gold necklace, white V-neck t-shirt and white pants. All he needs is a vertical haircut and he’d be the kung fu master version of Vanilla Ice. His footwear looked like indoor slippers, though. He rescues a young gal, the daughter of a wealthy local dude, from a  gang of hooligans, who work for a gangsta head hooligan. (Full disclosure — he works for Manda.) The kung fu master takes on 20 thugs and kicks all their pants right in the pants. This won’t be the last time he has to deal with these smirking criminals, who mistakenly think there’s strength in numbers.

Manda continues her reptile revenge, killing her tormentors. While this is going on, the kung fu master has six (!) more run-ins with the gang, whose members now count in the 30s. And still, he mops the dirt floor with ‘em. When the local (and single) young gal is kidnapped and brought to the cave where Manda lives (kinda neat — wonder if it has working plumbing?), the master goes to rescue her. He predictably fresh beats the thugs into tenderized pork, jumps and flips over multiples of snakes, and faces off with Manda. It’s here she takes off her hoodie and reveals her hair is not hair at all, but a pile of icky wiggle snakes. (Medusa should file intellectual property infringement.)

Manda controls the snakes by snaking up her eyes and waving her hands in front of her, as if slowly washing an invisible window. This is ironic as most windows are already invisible. The master flings sharpened Popsicle sticks at the snakes and acupunctures their heads. Manda, who no doubt maintains heir coiling coif with Ssssalon Selective™ shampoo, falls after being cornered on a rock cliff. We don’t see her splat. This means, of course, sequel city. (Spoiler: It’s titled Bruka: Queen of Evil/1973).

Outrocking Evil

The ‘80s hair band Triton is rocking hard and riding free and features a camera aware/body builder/studded leather Speedo™-wearing lead singer, John. (You’d think he’d have a more rock appropriate name, like Poser McPose, Flexi Hamstring or Dangle.) John and his ham band play anthem power rock songs like “We Live To Rock,” “Engery,” and (my fav) “Edge of Hell (Wildlife)”, what with its “don’t bore us, get to the chorus” catchiness. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a solid hook.

Triton’s manager insists the band retreat to an isolated farmhouse in I Don’t Know Where We Are, Canda to work on 10 minutes of new material to add to their show. (Note to band — just put “tonight”, “alright” and “let’s fight” into the lyrics and you’re good to go. Lather, rinse, repeat.)

Traveling in a three-tone van (orange, white and black), the rockers bring their girlfriends and the female keyboard player with hair so big, you can see my house from there. No sooner than the band sets up in the barn and starts rocking like they’re in front of 10,000 invisible screaming fans, they take a break and start having sex with each other, with some of the band members wearing sunglasses — indoors — during their act(s) of shame. That is so rock.

To mix things up, a car full of groupies show up to group with the group. As this is happening, the Devil — depicted as a rubber alien thing — shows up to top the charts, with assorted rubber, finger puppet demons as special guests. I am not making this up. Once evil reveals itself, John transforms into his studded leather Speedo™-wearing counterpart, complete with lightning bolts emitting from his muscular visage, power posing with some of the best traffic jam constipation facial expressions ever committed to VHS tape.

Rock ‘n’ Roll Nightmare (1987) features lots of boobs and so much hairsprayed hair, Aqua Net™ should have been given a screen credit. Regardless, this wincing attempt to meld hair metal with vulcanized evil reminds me of the drunken heckling I used to do at local rock shows: “You suck — break up!”

Stock Market Horror, Jealous Ghosts, Cult Rentals

Do you have an HEF in your investment portfolio? If not, you might consider it. Why? HEF is an acronym for Horror Equity Fund, Inc.™ (Film & Entertainment Investment Platform), a way to invest in the horror genre and to build your future on all things entertainment scary.

The mission statement from Marlon Schulman, Founder and CEO of Horror Equity Fund: “Today, we are experiencing a new golden era in Horror entertainment. Our model establishes a cross-collateralized, diversified portfolio that mitigates risk and subsequently increases the opportunity for the highest return on investment. HEF curates, develops, and accelerates to market projects in film, television, virtual reality, augmented reality, live presentations, publishing, video gaming, merchandising, Internet, and other transmedia categories, creating a unique portfolio of profit participation.”

“Though the commitment to Horror and Thriller entertainment is thriving, the world of Horror has lacked a community where they can find one another, participate in and profit from this popular genre. Horror Equity Fund offers those fans, content creators and investors transparency, honesty, integrity and one of the deepest creative benches in Horror.”

“Fans, Content Creators, and Investors will begin to experience the benefits of HEF and immediately participate in the Mutual Fund of Horror.”

Man, I can’t wait to invest, once I look under the couch cushions and relieve my virtual piggy bank of all its precious bit coins. At $100 minimum investment/$1 per share (I’ll have to go without beer for one day), this seems like a no-brainer. And if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s being a no-brainer. This is a crowd-funding venture, so check out their highly impressive website for your guide to banking on all things horror: CLICK HERE.

While you’re doing your Wizard of Wall Street thing, here are a few upcoming horror/sci-fi TV and movies waiting for you to invest in your couch…

ASH vs. EVIL DEAD/SEASON 3 (February 25/Starz™)
“Bruce Campbell leads the cast, reprising the role of Ash Williams; Lucy Lawless, as Ruby, devises her most diabolical plan to defeat Ash and raise Hell on earth; Ray Santiago as Pablo Simon Bolivar, forever loyal to Jefe (Ash), will realize his true destiny in the battle against evil; and Dana DeLorenzo as Kelly Maxwell, whose single goal is to kill Ruby and end the Evil Dead torment once and for all.”

Disclaimer: I previously plugged this and used the same art. What a lazy ass, am I. Just excited for season three, is all. A great day when you can turn on the television and see evil run wild. (Not referring to Republicans and/or politicians in general.) Ash vs. Evil Dead is incredibly gore gooshy, fun, funny and a highly addictive (for me, anyway) TV adaptation. Guess where I’ll be on February 25?

THE HOUSEMAID (February 16, 2018)
“Vietnam, 1953: Linh, a poor, orphaned young woman, finds employment as a housemaid in a crumbling rubber plantation presided over by the emotionally fragile French officer Sebastien Laurent. Soon, a torrid love affair develops between the two — a taboo romance that rouses the ghost of Laurent’s dead wife, who won’t rest until blood flows. Submerged in moody Gothic atmosphere, this stylish supernatural saga confronts the dark shadows of Vietnam’s colonial past while delivering heart-stopping scares.”

Great — a jealous female ghost.  Hell hath no fury, blah, blah, blah. When you’re on the receiving end of a female — back from the dead or otherwise — hellbent on jealous revenge, best to disappear yourself.

HOUSE OF DEMONS (February 2018)
“Gwen, Matthew, Katrina, and Spencer were best friends for years, until a terrible tragedy tore them apart, and left all of them in a state of arrested development. Ten years later, they’re reunited for a destination wedding to stay together in a rented house. What they don’t know is in the late ’60s, the house was home to a Manson Family-like cult, run by Frazer, a charismatic former scientist pushing the boundaries of human consciousness. Over the course of one long night, everyone must confront their darkness or be destroyed by it.”

I wonder if when renting houses, cults pay first and last and a damage deposit, as well as having their credit history checked? (Note to cults — if you have a pet, be prepared to pay extra.)

DEMON HOUSE (March 16, 2018)
“As mass hysteria breaks out over an alleged demonic possession in an Indiana home referred to as a ‘Portal to Hell,’ Ghost Adventures host and paranormal investigator Zak Bagans buys the house, sight unseen, over the phone. He and his crew then become the next victims of the most documented case of demonic possession in US history…the ‘House of 200 Demons.’”

200 demons living under one roof? Good luck getting in some bathroom time. And if your turn is next, keep a can of Glade™ handy. “Hell” and “smell” rhyme for a reason.