Confederate Cannibals

2001 Maniacs: Field of Screams (2010) is a remake of the 1964 splatter classic, Two Thousand Maniacs! and sequel to 2001 Maniacs (2005), in which tourists/travelers are re-routed to the small town of Pleasant Valley, where they are tortured, sliced, diced and put on ice by the locals paying tribute 2001 Confederate rebel-rousers who were slaughtered 150 years ago during the aptly-named Civil War.

Business hasn’t been good for Pleasant Valley as of late, so they take their Guts ’n Glory Jamboree on the road. Just a lucky break to run into a bus load of ingratiating douche bags filming the reality series, Road Rascals. If there was anyone who deserved to pointy end of a meat cleaver, it’s these annoying a**wipes.

The gore is disappointing at best, given its heritage; I’ve seen more blood at hockey matches. The cannibal scene leaves you wanting seconds and the kid who gets impaled on an iron pole, still manages to get up and walk around. Yeah, this is supposed to be a horror comedy, and while there are a few funny bits (sex with sheep — a knee slapper every time), the dialogue, more painful than the deaths themselves.

Lots of boobies and faux sex scenes, one of which is an old granny being ridden like a hobby horse. To that I say ick. Horror icon Bill Moseley as Pleasant Valley’s Mayor Buckman, is in fine hammy form, though his Southern accent sounds a bit too Northern. If you’re looking for blood, there’s a splatter here, a splatter there. If you’re looking for hard-core gore, you’ll have to go back to 1964 to find it.

Midget Monsters, Nazi Zombies, Cleaning Toilets

You ever see the 2007 Spanish horror hit [REC]? That one had a few humans trapped inside an apartment building loaded with slobbering, flesh-chowing zombies. I feel like I live in that same building as I can hear my highly annoying neighbors chew dinner with their loud mouths open. Wonder if they’re eating flesh? That’s what it smells like as anytime anyone cooks something, it stinks up the entire building. Think I’ll fight fire with fire and fry up some raw tuna and eggplant.

Here’s some upcoming horror movies that hopefully won’t stink…

THE CREEPS – DEFORMED MONSTERS (February 21, 2017/Blu-ray)
“Undersized, undead and angry. Dracula. Frankenstein. The Werewolf. The Mummy. In an experiment of the maddest kind of science, these four classic monsters of film and literature are brought back to life…but something goes wrong. Though they look and act exactly as they you’d think they’d look, the creepy quartet emerge as half their normal size. Now, they’re three feet tall…and not happy at all.”

Can’t blame ‘em for being unhappy. At three feet tall, that puts your face at everyone’s butt level. This would be especially demoralizing if they worked at a bean factory. The Creeps actually came out in 1997, but this is the first time on 2D HD 1080p. That’s just scientific jibber jabber, but some people with hi-tech minds will find that to be of significance. I’m gonna go back to braiding my hair and contemplating puffy clouds.

BESETMENT (2017)
“A young woman takes a hotel position in a small town in Oregon. It’s a creepy, back country kind of town, but owners Mildred Colvin and her son seem nice. It’s not long before she discovers their real intentions and her struggle to make a living becomes a nightmarish fight for her life.”

A “nightmarish fight for her life.” Sounds like she has to clean toilets.

TRENCH 11 (2017/2018)
“In the final days of WWI a shell-shocked tunneler must lead an Allied team into a hidden German base 100 hundred feet below the trenches. The Germans have lost control of a highly contagious biological weapon that turns its victims into deranged killers. The Allies find themselves trapped underground with hordes of the infected, a rapidly spreading disease and a team of German Stormtroopers dispatched to clean up the mess. The only thing more terrifying than the Western Front is what lies beneath it…”

Two things come to mind: First, this sounds like a video game. Secondly, is this not a spin on Resident Evil (2002)? That one was based on a video game as well. I don’t play video games. It requires too much hand/eye coordination. I can barely put on my movie pants without falling over.

THE BLACK ROOM (May 9, 2017/VOD)
“A supernatural tale where evil takes on a sexy side. A married couple moving into their new home is faced with an entity that feeds off lust and desire, corrupting and/or killing everyone in its path as it plots a horrifying plan to destroy the world.”

Surprised that the entity is feeding off lust and desire from the married couple. Everyone knows that goes down the drain after the honeymoon fever wears off. I’m betting, however, this movie will depict boobies in all their paired gloriousness.

The Devil Wears No Pants

There’s several things you should know about 1973’s Swiss/German The Devil’s Plaything (also Plaything of the Devil.) First, it’s been released under a laundry list of alternate titles, such as The Curse of the Black Sisters, aka, Der Fluch der schwarzen Schwestern, (too hard to pronounce), le Chateau des Messes Noires, aka, The House of Black Masses (meh), Satankultens Sexofre (huh?) Veil of Blood (boring), and Vampire Ecstasy (boring v.2). Secondly, clothing is pretty much a special effect as everyone in this decidedly adult vampire flick is devoid of britches throughout most of the movie.

Two gals go to Castle Varga on the premise that they are to inherit the brick house from a freshly deadened aunt. Also shacking up at the shabby shack are a young couple whose car went ka-BOOM down the road.

The castle’s caretakers are not caretakers at all (didn’t see one of ‘em touch a broom or mop) — they’re poker-faced Stygian cult women dressed in black (not for long) and hold midnight rituals, i.e., dancing, orgies, boob finger-painting. And they do this to the accompaniment of bongos. (Bongos might be the instrument of choice for beatniks, but those dang things are ANNOYING.)

The seductive fresh beats makes one of the non-cult gals insatiably horny and anything resembling or shaped like you know what is put to entertaining use. Problem is, she can’t be, um, fulfilled until some silly amulet is handed over to the cult, thereby setting off an adults-only party of ritual sex, neck sucking (and not just necks, by the way) and those ANNOYING BONGOS. (Vampires should not be allowed to bang on things. (Okay, that didn’t come out right.)

The vampire part is never fully explained or explored, relying on the power of boobies to give the plot some bounce. Lots of pant-less and soft-core coming and goings (okay, that didn’t come out right) take up most of the time, which is not a minus. Just watch it with the sound off.

P.S. You can find the entire uncut movie on YouTube™. There, I did my good deed for the day.

Taste-Testing Virgin Blood

In the 19th Century Argentina, a vampire (uncursed real name: Gustavo), walking around in daylight (WTF?!?), is having an argument with his girlfriend in the woods. He wants them to be together forever, the big softy. Ofelia, his genetically gifted squeeze, is unfortunately betrothed to Eduardo, a handsome rich guy whose not bad with a paint brush. This “Dracula” cares not for the fine arts.

Ofelia goes ahead and marries Eduardo and both head straight for the matrimony mattress to make some honeymoon butter. Before Eduardo can fire up the churn, J.D. (jealous Drac) shows up, stabs Ed in the neck sideways (think arrow in the head, but in the neck area), and hypnotizes Ofelia into submitting to his will. Gotta hand it to Dracula at this point; he goes for her boobs first. Dessert before dinner.

Through the magic of science, we’re flash forwarded to the 20th Century, specifically, the Swingin’ Sixites, were several young couple travel the land, smooch like slobber monkeys and have sex every five minutes. So horny are these horn dogs, they even take off their clothes while dancing at festive discotheques. (Places your parents used to go to dance naked before you came along and ruined their fun lives. Get over it.)

A late night out, a car out of gas, and the group is forced to spend the night in an abandoned lodge up the road a kilometer. Why, that’s just a conga line away! Even vacant for years, the lodge looks as clean and party crash-able as it did back in… Wait a minute — that’s the same honeymoon hotel Ofelia was denied marriage and life to become one of the damned. Now she’s doomed to walk the lodge in a sheer nightgown for all eternity.

Ofelia horizontally seduces one the young men (so much for his girlfriend), and Dracula goes from red eye to green eye. Two young women are missing the next morning, only to show up later all freaked out, screaming about blood and showing off their puncture wound necklace. At the hospital, one boyfriend feels up his sick girlfriend and smooches on her. Didn’t make her feel good, but it did wonders for his, um, “condition.”

Ofelia, who hasn’t changed her underwear in 100 years, seduces the brother of the sick sister. Before he can cerrar el trato, the aerated ghost of Eduardo shows up with the very same dagger Dracula shoved up his nuptial hole all those happy years ago and finally gives Ofelia a way out of her clothes and living dead nightmare. Doesn’t need to be said, this does not end well for Dracula.

Blood of the Virgins (aka, Sangre de Virgenes/1967) is a misleading title as it was proved not applicable in the first 15 minutes of the movie when every girl put that milestone behind her in this unfettered showcase of boobies and pantless dancing.

Shark Bubbles

You don’t have to put on Shark Exorcist (2015) to watch a supremely crappy shark movie. Just go on YouTube™ and pull up the obscure Deep Blood, a 1989 Italian shark flick, featuring no fishy action or graphic kill scenes whatsoever. So why did I watch it? It was free. But free in this case meant you’ll pay a price — 90 minutes of your expiration date.

The title comes from a pact four young boys made to alway be friends and to kill a great white shark lest one of them should be eaten by one. Guess what happens? 10 years later the boys reunite for a fishing vacation at a small beach community stalked by a marauding shark. (Likely an out of towner, also on vacation.) One of the boys is sharked to death and the remaining friends make another pact: kill that shark hard for what it did.

Vengeance is the first thing on their minds (with boobies coming in a very close second). They prep their trap while the shark (stock footage of several great white sharks swimming in circles and occasionally coming to the surface for air) munches on beach food. The kills are nothing more than screaming swimmers in an eruption of blood bubbles (or “Texas Champagne”). You don’t see the shark actually doing any attacking, just a lot of red froth. And screaming.

The boys’ plan is to use explosives to turn the shark into puzzle pieces. Gonna be a challenge as the mean fish is thought to be an incarnation of an ancient hoodoo (West African spiritual traditions and beliefs) spirit that took the form of a killer shark.

So yeah, African spirit hoodoo sharks (different ones spliced in to emphasize the premise) in Italy. A more entertaining idea would’ve been to do a movie about voodoo spaghetti. And instead of blood, they could use tomato sauce, which I hear is smiliar in color. Just thinking out loud.

Ancient Greek Cow Thing

In Greek mythology (what Greek isn’t mythology?) a Minotaur is a half bull/half man creature that originally dwelt (that’s such a cool word) at the center of the Labyrinth, an elaborate underground maze built for King Minos of Crete (that total penis owes me after I spotted him some drachma), and designed by the architect Daedalus to hold the barnyard curiosity.

He and his son Icarus (that guy in the Iron Maiden song) built it so Minotaur could dwelt in it. They tried to make a movie of this HISTORICALLY-PROVEN FACT, with Tony Todd (Candyman with war paint on his stomach) as the local warlord king who sacrifices teenagers to the Minotaur Cow Thing.

In a nearby village a guy’s girlfriend was taken to be chucked into the Labyrinth. So much for a second date with boobie-feeling privileges. He and a bunch of other villagers break into the castle to find her, only to get themselves in the same can ’o ancient soup. The Minotaur is thinkin’ it’s a restaurant on legs with all the trimmings.

Upstairs, though, the mean king is trying to get busy with his supermodel sister. This girl is so hot she makes Beyoncé look like a cow pie with mascara. But little sister grows tired of Candyman’s nightly attempts to get her to ride the baloney pony. Maddened, he throws the non-putting out mattress candy into the pit with the rest of the losers. Oh sure, there’s some more plot, but none of it matters, especially when there’s an enlarged demonic skull cow charging through the maze to gore people with his horns and hooves of doom.

His frequent attacks look like the heavy metal version of the running of the bulls; You’d expect the Minotaur to look like the Bigfoot business model of a hairy milk cow, but not this time. The Minotaur is all skeletal with evil skin hanging of it and a skull face and horns the size of whaling scrimshaws (harpoons, for all you non-Moby Dick heads). There’s a LOT of screaming. Truth be told, if I was being chased by the Minotaur, I’d make sure that darn thing slips in the adrenaline fluid spraying out of my sprinting backside.

The title creature (Minotaur/2006) is pretty dang cool and is the same one on the DVD box. OK, it might actually be his brother, but they look so much alike as to be twins. And Candyman? Let’s just say, you mess with the bull you get the horn. Heh.

7 Mummies Makes One Weak

A half-dozen criminal convicts being transported across the Mexican desert manage to escape, taking the supermodel prison guard with them as hostage material.

Roasting under the blistering sun, they have nothing to drink except “land water” (dirt), no food, and no ChapStick™. Finding a gold medallion in the land dirt, the desert Holy Man (or “sand shaman”) tells them of more gold (specifically the ancient treasure of Tumacacori) than 10 men couldn’t spend in 10 lifetimes. I’ll take that challenge.

All they have to do is keep walking until they get to a small old time-y western town. It’s there they’ll find their destinies. And hookers. (Destiny…hookers — same thing.) Besides looking out of time and place, there’s something not right with the dusty town.

The criminals walk into the saloon, which looks straight out of the 1800s, and are offered free beer, food, and destiny hookers. Two things: Where is this town exactly so I can put in a change of address, and secondly, is there a local laundromat?

Once the sun goes down, all of the supermodels and townsfolk turn into flesh-eating ghouls. They still look the same, but attack their guests as if free platters of Arby’s™ 5 for $5 roast beef sandwiches. A few manage to escape, but don’t leave town as they came for the gold.

This business model is further complicated by the seven mummified Jesuit priests that leap to life to protect the gold. That they know how to do martial arts means that was either part of their religious training, or the movie sucks.

So what have we/I learned about 7 Mummies (2005)? That gold is heavy, 400 year-old Jesuit priests can kick your ass, old time-y hookers have implants, a motorcycle can barely outrun a horse, and rap music sucks. But you/me already knew that.

The Pain In Spain Falls Mainly On My Face

A sub-titled Spanish psycho-drama, Abre Los Ojos (aka, Open Your Eyes/1997) involves a young, rich guy who is so handsome, he could be my doppelganger. More or less.

A car accident leaves his photo framing-worthy mug horribly scarred and eventually warps his mind to the point where he’s having trouble sorting out reality from his fantasy world in which he had his face repaired and is compromising his best friend’s girlfriend.

All things being equal, he ends up killing a chick while horizontally dating her, just to make sense of his nightmare, the poor guy. But that’s just the beginning.

Where this incredible gem throws its knockout punch is near the end, which is a twist of biblical proportions. That the boobies are perfecto and are but a mere bonus; the story is quite riveting. Sci-fi, horror, suspense, naked stuff, Abre Los Ojos is mucho grande.

P.S. Abre Los Ojos/Open Your Eyes was remade in as Vanilla Sky in 2001 and stars Tom Cruise, who is pretty much my doppelganger.

Cannibal Dinosaurs

Massacre in Dinosaur Valley (1985). Misleading title. There are no dinosaurs. There is a valley, though. And cannibals, alligators, bugs, 50% naked women, snakes, 50% naked women, bugs… Let’s see, did I forget anything? Oh, yeah — 50% NAKED WOMEN! Meaning, only half their clothes are off.

Doesn’t matter which half as they’re supermodels. Specifically, supermodels whose toy plane has just landed in what looks to be a mud puddle somewhere in the Amazon jungle. Three guys, three chicks and a jungle full of cannibals who don’t like their meals with any dressing (heh). The grand plan is to walk back to civilization. Great plan.

One guy’s wife seems to be drunk all the time and rags on her Vietnam vet husband, the ONLY guy with skills to get them safely through the dense bushes. The other two guys think he’s a p*ssy for letting his wife walk all over him in front of the cannibals and alligators. (Don’t worry — he eventually responds with a solid right to the lip-sticked pie-hole.)

If the cannibals, who force the girls to take off the other half of their clothes weren’t bad enough, now the six survivors have to contend with white slavery business owners who are running a local illegal mining business. There’s a bit of grisly gore (shredded ankle), but only one cannibal meal, which seemed a bit on the light side given how hungry natives there are.

Still, the depiction of naked modern women in the untamed jungle is a juxtaposition that invites social commentary. That, and jungle boobies all over the place. Still, I was kinda hoping for a dinosaur or two, you know, to help make sense of everything.

Frankenstein Created Bikers

Frankenstein Created Bikers. Great movie title. Better still is the trailer for this “coming soon” (sometime in 2016) grindhouse offering: boobies, gore, explosions, tattoos, bikers with tattoos, guns, monsters, and some smacko foot to the face MMA action. Only thing missing is me!

Here’s what’s on the movie’s highway to Hell…

“A resurrected outlaw biker finds himself addicted to the substance that brought him back from the grave. In order to get his daily fix, his gang is forced to do the bidding of two sadistic scientists attempting to capture a biological mutation and perform a human head transplant on kidnapped teenagers.”

“When his disgruntled ex-girlfriend is released from prison, she embarks on an explosive manhunt for her former lover and his strung-out pack of degenerates. With three dysfunctional bounty hunters, a rival motorcycle gang and an army of machine-gun toting strippers, it becomes a race against law-enforcement for bragging rights to the gang leader’s demise.”

Says the back-from-the-dead biker: “There is no hope…no God…no salvation here. Only pain.” Sounds like he just described my last hard drinking night.

Monsters on motorcycles is not a new concept. One must only turn back the pages of time to 1971 when the world was given the gift of Werewolves on Wheels. That one had boobies, blood rituals, black robed monks, satanic rituals, booze, and bikers who thumbed their beards at road safety. Only thing missing was me!