Posts Tagged ‘girlfriend

28
Aug
12

Uncle Grumpyfuk Remembers ‘The Sadist’

A Review by Uncle Grumpyfuk

Ahem,cough,cough,haaaack, fa-thoo!!! Aht-heh-hem…and I call to order to this month’s meeting of the fellowship of the Enormously-Endowed Blonde-haired Blue-eyed Vegan-Hatin’, Cop-Car Vandalizing, Chicken Hawk Purple Dragon Society of middle-upper Mississippi- otherwise known as ‘Big Brothers’, wink! I’d like to open with …hey! …SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LOUSY SCRODUM-SUCKERS, take her to one of your rooms if you can’t wait! There’s a large bottle of roofinal by the anchovy ambrosia …heh, boys WILL be boys! lol ..and.. a warm, sunny new day begins my friends! To one’s mind instantly spring the lyrics from that ‘classic’ (tragic!) animated movie(*), by that McCarthy-lovin’ finger-pointing rat-bastard whose head appropriately lies cracked and frost bitten in some innovative con artist’s fucking Igloo cooler!(**)

High high ho, it’s off to work you go,
so sell that snatch I need some scratch,
then on your feet and down the street,
high-ho, high-ho,high-ho, high-ho, high-ho,
it’s back to work you go,
so find a trick and work that dick,
stick up that ass and make it fast,
I need some dough to buy my grass,
High ho, high ho,high ho, high ho, high ho,
your flabby ass in tow,
go work those Spics and do your tricks,
pick up that pace or I’ll let that crazy-ass zombie-wannabe motherfucker eat your face,(***)
high ho, high ho, high ho,high ho…

(*)You know the ‘children’s classic’ I’m talking about, about the beautiful virtuous raven-haired, porcelin-skinned Queen who was tricked and murdered most foully by the devious and meddling runaway princess, with the help of the 7 gargantuan-choaded midgets she’d shacked up with and whored herself out to for their cooperation..that…that shameless young jezebel whom the Queen had adopted through the kind charity of her generous heart, who had given the little trollop everything in the world to make her happy- a brand new scrub-mop and shiny new pail, a sweet smelling oil rag and as much luxurious lye soap as any young maiden could have wanted, to clean the rancid piss-puddled floors of the dank and ancient castle, only to be betrayed in the end by the little walking yeast infection! Yes my friends, the filthy ungrateful peasantry, always conspiring against their superior and generous benefactors, ultimately dragging them down in a bloody fit of lice-ridden animal rage, invading their crystal palaces, fouling the pristine and sweetly-scented air with the gut-wrenching stench of breaded buffalo wings, 5-hour energy drinks and anything on the Hardees menu list you care to name, destroying all, leaving a bare and ravaged wasteland where once stood the lofty  towers and glittering accomplishments of their poor, former slave-masters. Typical liberals.

(**) Shit, I wish I’d thought of that ingenious scam – milking bereaving loved ones out of gobs of dough on a continual basis for lopping off the heads of their recently-croaked loved ones and tossing them into a dressed up Frigidaire for the fantasy of their being thawed in the future for something other than food! Ha! Fuck me it’s downright brilliant! I could be richer than Whitney Huston’s coke dealer, (ah it’s old news now,don’t even try) and be pissing on Walt Disney’s frozen and cracked fucking snitch-head every morning along with my hot chai and smoked mullet biscuits!!! Sometimes it almost seems like the shit-eating universe doesn’t appreciate you one little bit, you feelin’ me? Sigh,thanks.

(***) DAMN IT!!! I am so fucking beside myself, that should have been me eating that homeless dude’s face! That should have been ME!!! Now it’s old hat! Shit!!!
…yes sir, that’s what kind of beautiful Spring day it is today! why just listen to my cat and the neighbor’s fucking underneath their window! It makes you want to grab the digital camera and head down to Orlando to Nickelodeon Studios,yessir!
Well today we’re going to be reviewing another classic piece of cinematic wonder,few seem to know about this gem, makes you want to get a shotgun and ‘take ‘out’ one of their loved ones to teach’em a little lesson,you know what I mean? Heh-heh, just joking folks, there are much better reasons to do that. Wink! This month’s review is of the Arch Hall Jr. classic, “The Sadist” or ” My Nephew Timmy” – Heh, that’s a little inside joke folks, Timmy’s been in the Little/Big House since he was 7 for stabbing his 2nd grade teacher in the liver(*) with his No.2 Squidbilly pencil for not giving Tim a ‘B’ on his report card, and here he’d told that scumbag what would happen otherwise. People just don’t take young children seriously,you’d think a teacher would know better. Yep,after that and that series of pet mutilations -you all remember- from a while back, that bitch judge sent him to juvie until he became ‘of age’,but he’s gonna git her, don’t you worry folks! He’s been taught what to do! ;) He aaalmost escaped last July damn it, would have made it if he’d smashed that prison guard fuck a few more times but,eager youth, he saw a cat at the edge of the woods and off he went like an arrow,what can you do? Ha, I miss that little scamp…aaanyway!
(*) I taught him that one,yes I did! That rascal always was a quick learner- nevermind what the teachers said about him! Just remember, ‘Right side – liver, makes the pecker quiver, left side’s the kidney, uh, …I don’t know, makes you want to move to Sydney.’ Hell I’m no fucking poet! Fuck you, he got the gist of it! Jesus Christ!

OK, I tend to digress a tad at times, excusem-fucking-wah! Ahem. Ok, the film begins with a pair of eyes, illuminated in the darkness and a chilling voice claims, “I will hurt them. I will make them suffer as I have suffered.” and we naturally assume it’s an episode of Biography featuring Mel Gibson or Andy Richter ,but you notice quickly the eyes aren’t the dark subhuman eyes of an Aussie criminal nor are they the repulsive, tiny evil porcine eyes of uh..Andy Richter , they are in fact the bright and maniacal peepers of our hero and the protagonist of this film Arch Hall Jr., son of Arch Hall Sr.(go figure!) who directed several films, trying unsuccessfully to make the fruit of his gonads a star. Such a waste that people just didn’t catch on – but homo sapiens suck each other’s crusty anal cauliflower so what a fucking surprise,right? Oi. The narrator explains that ‘a sadist is one of the most disruptive elements in society,taking pleasure in the enslavement and debasement of his fellow man.’, heh, and still we allow a group of them to play reruns of Kate and Allie without releasing our shared rage upon them. Fools.

 

Alternate poster art under the title ‘Sweet Baby Charlie’

The credits end and the first act opens with a sputtering old car pulling into an isolated junkyard/ repair shop out in the desert in the middle of nowhere, heh-heh-heh, perfect. Then we learn, how’s this for a sweet little touch- they’re all school teachers,eh-heh, eh-heh-heh-heh-heh! There are two men and a totally humpable ditsy blonde who really plays up the innocent virginal angle so that you just want to throw her down on all fours,rip that cheap Penny’s dress to shreds and attack that ol’ browneye like a rabid gibbon, and then you know what comes next! That’s right, tea with lemon. Ha, some tissues for the ladies usher, those panties are dripping already! Whoo! As Courtney Love once sang,and that’s using the term loosely; ”Oo-oooh that smell!”( ‘…is grossing me out, someone hit my yawning box with some freaking Lysol already!’) Anyway, teachers, heh, priceless,but this is a childrens’ educational film so you want to make it fun for the kiddies, right? Sure we do! :)

 
The older male member of our endangered educators looks like Eugene Levy’s dad so we’ll call him Papa Jewb, get it? Ah-ha-ha-ha!! …hey,that’s a Hills Have Eyes refference you lousy racist fucks! What is this world coming to people? Fucking Pollacks. Now, the younger macho teacher looks like a llama so we’ll call him Crunchy, and we’ll refer to the porkable female math teacher as Bjork who also has that similar rimmable quality, and because we’d also like to throw Bjork down on all fours and..but I repeat myself. How do you say “I am so very sore!” in Martian, or wherever that shrieking imp comes from? Anyway, the trio looks around for the proprietors but can’t seem to locate anyone, and we’re allowed to see a clue they missed – the phone chord was torn out of the wall, known as step 3 to the knowing. ;) After searching they decide to find a spare part,fix the car and leave the money on the table like good little school teachers. Snort,they’ve got it coming to them! ..but you know, that’s how it was back then, Uncle Grumpyfuk remembers, folks would leave their houses open and unlocked on a hot day, no ac back then unless you had money. You’d even leave the house like that when you went out to eat or somewhere because no one would break in and put your pets in the George Foreman Rotisserie Grill, to think of it nowadays, all of those unguarded plums,sitting ripe for the picking, just like after Katrina!! You sometimes start to drool just thinking about it.
After Crunchy finds a car with a compatible part Papa Jewb looks around in the house and finds still-warm meals on the table. He goes back to tell the others, then, we see a .45 auto being raised. Oh yes boys and girls, it’s party time. ;)

 

There, standing gun in hand is our hero of the film, Arch Hall Jr. and his ravishing and hauntingly silent girlfriend, the dark and mysterious Judy. Cash tells Crunchy to continue fixing the car and has a little fun spooking the trio with the .45, you know, just fucking with their heads a little. (wink!) He takes Papa Jewb’s wallet and gives him a little tap on the noggin for having so little cash, then Papa Jewb does a very foolish thing, he lets on that they’re all school teachers! Can you believe it?!? Bing bong, big wrong! In response Arch gives him a slightly more substantial tap on the noggin and smashes ol’ ‘teach’ a good one across the temple and down he goes. Little Jimmy would be so proud, someone just might find a pirated copy of this film in his Christmas stocking, to share with the other juvies! Ho,ho,ho!

 
Arch then does the Zombie Stomp on Bjork’s purse and hands it to Judy who gleefully rifles through it, the little cutie! Ah youth. Bjork asks for some water, pretending it’s for Papa Jewb (but she’s just thirsty) so Arch,after handing the pistol to Judy, gallantly escorts her to the well to fetch a pail of wah-ter. Bjork cops an attitude however so Arch dutifully casts her in the dirt and rubs her face around in it a little, you know, to teach her a little proper respect for a psychotic gun-weilding maniac, I mean jeez people, for educators these folks just ain’t too bright! Bjork, fortunately, responds quite favorably! Good to see a man who knows how to handle a woman with an attitude, and a woman who knows to stay in her place when put there – the shade of John Wayne smiles and continues to give the shade of Heath Ledger a good ol’ ‘cowpoke’,side-saddle…get it?!? Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh man I kill me…fuck I hope Tommy Morrison doesn’t!


At this point something simply must be said of Arch Hall Jr’s fantastic acting throughout. He plays the giggling psycho-killer just…just perfectly, like a true sociopath, and his leering and heckling of the trio is just superb! Bravisimo!!! ..and his laugh! His laugh has a truly wonderful unhinged quality like a mix of a young Bruce Dern, a moderately medicated Danny Bonaduce, and Butthead. (I made it my ringtone! I relish in the uncomfortable glances I receive. Life is fun!)
After returning to the others Crunchy commit’s another bungle in a long list of dumbass moves and lets on that he knows Arch is really Charlie Tibbs, a thrill killer on the run from the fuzz…remind me again how these people became teachers! Arch just about goes balistic when Judy whispers something to him and Arch turns his attention back to Papa Jewb, telling him to get down on his knees and we think woo-woo! ..but instead of the ‘purty mouth’ comment we’re expecting next Arch just starts to laugh and laugh with that great disturbed timbre, like that of a nasty disgusting retard who sees something it percieves as ‘funny’ ,like a phone book, or Mel Gibson reacting to that great bit about the 5 Kikes and the Mau-mau! (That IS a good one! “..so shove that up your fucking lemon tree Mustafa!” Ha-ha-ha! Mercy!

 
Anyway Arch informs the trembling teacher that his life is going to last no longer than the grape Nehi he’s gulping down. The guilty memories of a thousand confiscated love letters, pocket knives, small explosives and condoms rush forward in the mind of the helpless educator and it seems the cosmic whodawhatsits just isn’t playing ball with him today! Papa Jewb begs and wallows and crawls and sobs (I think he wallowed the best) in front of Arch and Judy,to their total amusement, just asking for it all the more. Meanwhile Bjork and Crunchy, limp with relief at not being chosen, play it up nonetheless. Arch offers the opportunity to take Papa Jewb’s place and they promptly tell him “Fuck that!” You can’t blame them, survival of the fittest,right! Then, the last sip, Nehi all gone! Uh-oh, Spagettios! ..and with sheer delight Arch plants some lead right between Papa Jewb’s eyes, point blank, and if you listen closely as his lifeless body hits the ground, he farts. Class dismissed..permanently! Pure hilarity! Once again, bra-vo! Crunchy and Bjork congradulate themselves.

 
While Arch and Judy chow down on some of the dead property owner’s pie and another Nehi, Bjork babbles on and on and Crunchy, realizing what a fucking ditz she is, inform her of the fact and of the additional fact that they are totally fucked. Crunchy then thinks of another inept plan and tries to get Arch to unwittingly let on how much ammo is left in his pistol, but detecting the ruse Arch goes one better, fires the gun then challenges Crunchy to attack, claiming the gun may be empty! Crunchy however tucks and chickens out,then Arch shows him the gun was out of ammo! Ha! That really had to singe Crunchy’s nut-sack hair, eh folks!

 
Suddenly the background silence is broken by the roar of two motorcycle engines and as Judy keeps guard Arch walks out front to find a pair of motorcycle cops. He plays it cool and bluffs them good, pretending to be a friend of the family, then Judy and Bjork start to fight over a bottle of Charlie and as the cops turn towards the ruckus Arch pulls out Mr. 45 and Bang!Bang! he takes them both out lickety split, easy as pie! ..and he’d just had some pie! Ha! Now that’s ironic comedy folks! He and Judy climb aboard the motorcycles and play and frolic over the dead bodies of the slain pigs, the little rapscallions!

 
They go back to the car and Arch tells Crunchy to continue fixing the pump. Bjork and Crunchy try helplessly to come up with a plan, they totally fail of course when back luck strikes! Crunchy manages to spray Arch in the eyes with some gas,dirty pool! He and Bjork take off like jackrabbits and, here’s the saddest part of the film, as Arch staggers around blindly firing he vaguely makes out a figure running up and shoots Judy! Fuck! No! Arch lets out a truly admirable scream of sorrow and primal rage and sets off to find the cursed couple and exact a Klingon’s revenge upon their mortal bodies. We can hardly wait!
Bjork meanwhile finds what she thinks is a possible refuge but stumbles upon the bloody corpses of the property owners and ‘Peow!’ makes like the friggin Roadrunner and takes off down the dirt road without a backward glance or thought for Crunchy’s sorry ass!


Crunchy’s luck isn’t so swell however and he finds himself cornered with Arch and Mr. 45,but as he raises his pistol to dispatch the pussy teacher the hammer falls on an empty chamber! Out of bullets! Crunch emits a bleat of fear and desperation and charges and we think “Arch, look out!” but Arch quickly reloads and plants two shots into the oncoming shmuck. As Crunchy lays dying and crying Arch smiles and puts three more slugs in him, ha-ha, yeah! Buh-bye Crunchy, we hardly cared to know ye. Two down, one to go!

Arch takes off after Bjork who leads him on a merry chase and you have to be impressed. She kicked off her shoes earlier and has been hauling ass all over the fucking desert barefooted and you think, shit, she might take to being thrown down on all fours and …you never know! Yep,it’s those quiet reserved types that turn into wanton animals when put in the proper environment, or chains! …like a rabid gibbon! Woo! She sprints all over the place with Arch hot on her heels suddenly he veers away from her path to intercept her when again, tragedy occurs! As he runs Arch falls into a concealed well which now seconds as a flop-house for diamondback rattlers! Oh no!!! Arch throws a shit-fit and tries to fight them off but to no avail as several sink their venomous fangs into his hide, he lets out one more agonized scream and succumbs to the poison while Bjork, hearing his cry, says “Fuck you Charlie!” (and his name IS Charlie, ha!) and heads down the road, once again just like the Roadrunner kids. Beep,beep! The End.

 

Let this story be a lesson about procrastination children, if Arch and Judy had simply slain Papa Jewb and Bjork right off  the bat, made Crunchy fix the car then killed him,they’d be off in another state with the car before the bodies were ever found, enjoying a much longer spree of mischeif, mayhem and murderlation! Don’t forget!

Ol’ Uncle Grumpyfuk is outta here kids, Saturday morning kiddie show time, as Pete Townsend wrote “The Kids Are All Right and The Little Boys Are Oh So Scrumptious!” Bye!

12
Feb
12

The Primal Root’s Top Five Trashy Valentine’s Day Mood Killers!

One of Primal Root’s Dirty Thoughts

Valentine’s Day is a strange holiday.  Unlike Christmas or Thanksgiving, no one gets Valentine’s Day off. It’s not like Halloween which is renown for it’s fun frights and sugar fueled excess, St. Patrick’s day with it’s green beer and date rapes, but what of Valentine’s Day? There’s no way to avoid it.  You take your special lady friend over to the pharmacy to pick up her birth control and you are greeted with aisles upon aisles of heart shaped, overpriced pieces of  cardboard stuffed with enough tooth decaying sweets to put the entire population of the east coast into a diabetic coma as well as grotesque stuffed animals that play Marvin Gaye’s “sexual healing” when you squeeze the shit out of them.  Like anyone wants that kind of sentiment coming from a furry friend such as a bear or a cat. The whole notion is sick! JUST SICK!

But, I digress,  ANYHOO,  with our collective taste in cinema, Valentine’s Day is a tricky day of the year, especially for us Trash Cinema Connoisseurs.  Which is why I am compiling this list of movies that we might watch on Valentin’s Day,  but might ruin any shot you possibly had at getting some Valentine’s Day love friction.

However, if you do watch these with that special someone and they still glance at you longingly as opposed to sheer terror before bolting out a closed window (ala: any 80′s/90′s action flick) followed by a restraining order  arriving in the mail 30 days later…you’ve found a keeper. ;)

On with the awkward, grueling and stomach churning!

5) Street Trash (1987) dir. J. Michael Muro

Because if there’s a batch of thing you want to think about when you’re groping your lover after dinner at 4 star restaurant, it’s the aroma of a career New York City hobo. Street Trash tells the tail of the internal strife and trouble of the immense Hobo population of NYC who live in a sprawling metropolis of filth and shit puddles down at the local dump.  A new threat has been introduced into their world in the form of a long lost batch of booze known as Tenafly Viper which turns anyone who drinks it into a thick, brightly colored puddle of glop. The very first unlucky victim end up slowly, horrifically and semi-comically melting into a toilet and inadvertently flushing himself down it.

Street Trash is a sick and twisted little film that comes off feeling like one of Peter Jackson’s long lost early works.  the film features necrophilia, an fairly nightmarish group rape,  police officer’s beating people within an inch of their lives and then puking on them, and a moment where a lovely young woman nearly gives a bum a blowjob…a filthy, stinky bum who hasn’t bathed in months and has been sporting the same pair of crusty B.V.D.’s out in the summer heat. Who in the world would put themselves through that?

As hobos melt, women get repeatedly raped and fat guys explode, Street Trash is sure to douse the flames of burgeoning passion pretty f-ing fast, my friends.

4) The Brood (1979) dir. David Cronenberg

Ah, David Cronenberg. The master of body horror and making us not only feel intense anxiety regarding our physical being but basic human interaction in general. Which could be the reason he appears TWICE in my Top 5 Valentine’s Day Mood Killers List.  The man have a panache for pulling the rug out from under the typical sappy cinematic notions of love, romance, sex (that’s for damn sure) and the notion of a classical happy ending. Hence, his 1979 classic embittered divorcee film, “The Brood”.

Speaking from a experience, unless you are with a partner that is incredibly confident, bringing up an old relationship or flame is a sure fire way to throw a bucket of cold water on any kind of romantic moment.  I know many guys and girls are guilty of that whole past relationship jealousy trap. It’s ridiculous when you boil down, hell, you’re with this person now but for some reason you can;t get over the fact that *gasp* your lover had a life before you! You should be thanking your lucky stars their ex (girlfriend, boyfriend, wife, husband, gimp, dominatrix, stalker, etc.) isn’t manifesting their intense bitterness and hatred into child sized, hoodie sporting, murderous minions born through saggy, goop filled abdominal pulp sacks…Really. You’ve got it good.

The Brood is one of those films that’s going to do little else than make you and your closest companion feel uncomfortable. You’ll end up watching and imagining a few psycho ex-partners and how if they could make little midget killer sacks pawns grow out of their gut fat and come after you with malicious, creeping rage and a meat clever in hand, they would not hesitate to do so.  And who in the world wants that shit running through their head when you’re laying on the cough with your lover in your arms?  And nothing brings on a make out session like a woman gnawing open some grotesque, dripping belly goiter and then licking the living contents clean with her tongue. No amount of smooth talking is going to get the mood back after that kind of viewing experience.

3) I Spit On Your Grave (1978) dir. Meir Zarchi

Oh boy…yeah, I guess this one really goes without saying, but if you REALLY want to obliterate a sweet, lovey-dovey evening beyond the point of no return? Meir Zarchi’s quintessential rape/revenge epic is your weapon of choice. When you absolutely, positively have to turn off every mother fucker in the room? Accept no substitute.

But, in all honesty, rape is probably the last subject you want to bring up with perspective girl/boyfriend let alone an established relationship. I Spit On Your Grave features one of the longest gang rape sequences ever committed to film. Just when you think our victim/avenger, Jennifer (the stunning and talented Camille Keaton) has escaped she runs afoul of another rape happy redneck ready to violate her.

I Spit on Your Grave is the purest antithesis of the Valentine’s Day mood setter.  Between the jaw droppingly vicious rape sequences to the well deserved revenge of Jennifer’s, which reaches it’s pinnacle during a bubble bath castration sequence that just made my genitals recede into my abdomen at just the recollection of it, I Spit on Your grave is pound for pound the heavy weight champ of the awkward evening with your sweetheart.  Which might be why I Spit on Your Grave has become a tradition on Valentine’s Day in the Root household. I’m kind of a weirdo, gang, it’s time you learned this.

SO! Unless you want to watch this thing out of some odd, twisted, trash cinema sense of logic like I do, I would keep I Spit on Your Grave OFF your Valentine’s Day viewing itinerary.

2) Cutting Moments (1997) dir. Douglas Buck

Ahhh, the American Dream perpetuated by the constant rotation of the Hollywood conveyor belt. The beautiful wife, the kids, the quaint house in the suburbs with the white picket fence.  These are the measures of success as prescribed to us by society at large. It’s a common, cliched romantic notion that so many of us buy into hook line and sinker. But, as we have gathered through our own experiences of watching relationships and people around us fall apart due to the constant struggle to attain these perceived obligations,  the dream more often than not, fails.

But on Valentine’s Day no one wants to believe in unhappy endings! that things won;t all work out for the best! One things for certain, if you do decide to get hitched, produce some hell spawn, get a mortgage and dwell int he suburbs there’s a good chance things will never reach the level of bloody desperation chronicled in Douglas Bucks’ short film, “Cutting Moments”.

I’ve seen a lot of sick, dark, depressing, stuff, gang. But never have I seen a more harrowing portrayal of an American nuclear family marred by repression, guilt, shame, secrets and lies. My god (Cthulhu) watching this not even 10 minute long short film is just about all you’ll ever need top swear off marriage forever!  The majority of the film is spent in silence with nothing more than the empty sounds of cutting. Whether it’s trimming the hedges, or cutting up carrots. Hardly anyone speaks.These people are so dead inside already it’s like they live in a tomb. There’s no passion, no love, no spark and there’s even the insinuation of child molestation. My god,  did that rhyme?  It’s like they live in a vacuum. It’s only when wife and mother, Sarah, takes drastic measures to put the intimacy back into the relationship with her husband that the blood finally flows back into their lives reminding them once again of the flesh and blood that makes them human.

Too many folks lie to themselves and tell themselves they are with the right person in order to fulfill these empty societal ideals. They get hitched, pop a baby or two out and then either hold all their resentment and bitterness inside or get divorced and use their kids as emotional leverage against their former spouse. It’s all just as sick and saddening as what’s present in Cutting Moments. Watching this puppy on Valentine’s Day is sure to fill your head with enough “What if’s” to have you heading to bed along that night.

1) The Fly (1986) dir. David Cronenberg

Alright, now this is a love story! It really is! When watching Cronenberg’s masterful remake of The Fly it’s easy to forget about the love story at hand taking place between journalist, Veronica and Seth Brundle, the brilliant young scientist working on a breakthrough in matter transference. Veronica falls hard for the quirky, charming, and intelligent Brundle and they begin a whirlwind romance.  Two smart, attractive, young people in love…what could go wrong?

Holy fuck…

The Fly is like a check list of all the things that could possibly go wrong in a loving relationship. Clingy, stalker ex boyfriend? CHECK! Being careless and doing incredibly stupid things in order to prove your love to your partner in a fit of misguided jealousy? CHECK! Inide-Out bloody monkey moosh? CHECK! These two start out as such a believably cute and perfect couple that it makes all the events that much more tragic as Seth begins his transformation from his sweet, adorable, self into a sickly, revolting monster replete with loose body parts and a need to vomit on everything. It’s a terrifying and devastating transformation as we watch, along with Veronica, her love disintegrate and go mad before her very eyes.

The Fly is one of the most epic of all cinematic tragic love stories.  Many critics and commentators have weighed in on the film’s apparent HIV/AIDS subtext, and that’s a smart deciphering of the film, for sure. But The Fly is also a testament to how truly heart wrenching and deeply devastating love can be.  Veronica is unable to leave Seth’s side and tries to help him, to take care of him, however she can only to end up, with all hope lost, and having to come to terms with losing the one she loved and putting the beast he has become out of it’s misery.  Only someone who really feels love and compassion for another is willing to do such a thing.

Upon first viewing it’s easy for the love story to get lost under a puddle of neon green battery acid fly man digestive puke. But once you get over that initial shock and awe you begin to fully realize and appreciate the romantic tragedy that is, The Fly. By the end of the film you and your sweetheart may have a deeper understanding of the obligations true love requires. Well, this is kind of a drastic example, but you catch my drift. It’s not much of a romantic notion, but in some situations, there are no happy endings. Even if you’re in love.

Well, those are my top 5 Valentine’s Day Mood Killers! Keep in mind, these are just my picks. There are about a million flicks out there to choose from and I would love to hear which Trash Cinema Epics you recommend as the true cinematic equivalents of a romance epicac. Please, drop us a line in our comments! I would love to hear some of your favorites. :D

Until next time, remember to wrap it up every time, don’t name it after me and love the one you’re with!HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!

Stay Trashy,

-Root

19
Aug
11

Welcome to Fright Night…Just Kidding.

Wait...did Charlie even use that axe he's holding in this poster?

a Primal Root written review

My friend Sam wanted to see this movie. He was stoked. His enthusiasm lead me to go along with him. Hell, how bad could it be? As the songs goes. “I wish that I knew what I know now…when I was stronger.” We both left the theater in agony around 2:00 this morning…

I really had no interest in this remake. At all. Fright Night is one of my all time favorite horror films of the 80′s, Hell, it’s one of my favorite horror movies period. Under the masterful direction of Tom Holland, Fright Night was a vibrant, funny, spooky, gruesome love letter to horror’s Golden Age updated with many excellent in-camera effects and some down right awesome performances by everyone involved. Holland even managed to give all the characters involved (even those in supporting roles) back stories, the space to breath and in turn, gave the film a lot of heart. All of this is why Fright Night endures as a horror fan favorite and why audiences keep coming for more.

And then there’s Fright Night 2011…Remember, I saw this movie for you.

Don't feel bad, Colin, I hear it happens to lots of guys...

I cannot even think of where to begin…well, the beginning is as good a place as any. We are introduced to our new Charlie Brewster who lives in a modern suburb of Las Vegas where every house looks exactly the same. The camera glides over the houses showing us how uniform they all are and as I watched this new Fright Night that was the final moment I felt hope…Maybe the film would be some kind of commentary on how interchangeable we all have become in a world where individuality is pushed aside for convenience sake? I dunno, needless to say, I was over estimating this corn riddled turd of a film.

Charlie (Yelchin) is now a dirt bike enthusiast who is trying to grapple with his past so that he can still hang out with the cool kids at school and get the sticky finger from his uninteresting girlfriend, Amy (Poots. Tee-Hee) See, Charlie used to play some kind of roll playing game with his old nerdy best friend “Evil” Ed (Plasse/McLovin’) and Charlie must keep this past and the existence of his old best friend buried at all costs or else he won’t be popular anymore.

I guess the decision here was to make every main character unlikable from the get-go, especially Charlie.  Rather than giving the audience a surrogate in Charlie as the original had ( a bit of an awkward nerd, passion for horror movies, having girl troubles and attempting to defeat the forces of evil) instead we get this Charlie.  He has a dirt bike and is trying to be popular. How…interesting…

So, Jerry (Farrell)  moves in next door to Charlie and his single Mom, Jane (Toni Collette! What are you doing in this mess?)  and is introduced as he does his yard work…as the sun is just beginning to set. Let me remind you, Jerry’s a vampire. Of course he’s charming, suave, built and ready to fuck and/or eat anything that moves and, true to form, the ladies around town are instantly drawn to this type of undead, evil, sociopath…

"And may your forehead grow like the mighty oak."

I think possibly the saddest thing about Fright Night 2011 is how quickly Jerry is revealed to be a full force vampire. Literally, ten minutes in and one of the main protagonists is attacked and turned.  Jerry’s reveal in the original takes time to build, the tension grows as does the suspicion and the paranoia until Jerry finally confront Charlie. In the new Fright Night he basically walks up a goes. “Hey, I’m a vampire.” Yep…quite the reveal.

The filmmakers try to punch up the long spells of boredom and Collin Farrel mugging sly smiles to the camera before sniffing the air in all directions, with uninspired car chases, cameos from previous cast members (of whom I felt deeply embarrassed for) and David Tennant grabbing his testicles for inspired comic relief as our new Peter Vincent, the leather pants wearing, premature ejaculating host of Fright Night. No, Fright Night is no longer a late night cable access spook show… now it’s a Las Vegas magic show.Tennant’s portrayal of Vincent is a dreadfully over the top performance that’s given no real gravity or sense of reality especially once the back story of this new Peter Vincent is revealed.

The Smarmy goes to 11.

Fright Night 2011 is nothing more than product. There’s not a whole lot for me to talk about in this review because there’s nothing there. It’s vapid, empty and a complete waste of time, effort, talent, money and celluloid.  Characters that were believable, that you once felt for whether they were human or monster, are reduced to terrible one liners and the most senseless and dull headed characterization I’ve witnessed since those fucking Transformers movies took off. Oh yeah, it’s that kind of bad. Perhaps, even worse, since Fright Night had such incredible source material to plunder.AND DON’T SEE THIS THING IN3-D! It’s a waste of money. Unless 3-D doorways and apple eating is worth an additional 5 bucks to you…

Maybe I am just getting too old. Perhaps references to Google, Ebay and excellent Century 21 product placements aren’t enough to make me laugh. It just makes me roll my eyes in my old man disgruntlement knowing what I am watching is nothing more that a cheap, piece of shit knock of of a once inspired and wholly entertaining story. A film that in 1985 reminded us of how imaginative and fun horror cinema could truly be! Hell, I watch it today and I still wish people strived to make movies as great as Fright Night (85). Movies where  you walk out of the theater feeling exhilarated and wishing you could spend even more time in that universe.

And then there’s the new Fright Night. Where you walk out feeling like you were the one who just had your blood drained. It seemed they tried to walk a middle ground where they might appeal to old fans and new. In the end, they ended up with something I feel will appeal to neither.

Perhaps you should just stop TRYING to be so cool, Brewster…

24
Sep
10

Rotten Review Ep. 15: Return of the Living Dead 3


Hey Gang,

The Primal Root is back after a month off and to celebrate I am showcasing a piece of Trash Cinema featuring one of my all time favorite zombie femme fatales. That’s right, Ms. Julie Walker as brought to glorious undead life by the unfathomably gorgeous Melinda Clarke.

Get ready for a Special Guest Appearance from Ms. Jessica Critten (in her final appearance), grotesque body self mutilation, angry Latinos, tortured sewer dwelling do-gooders, half naked dancing zombies in chains and lederhosen, 2-4-5 Trioxin, dumb scientists, brain freeze bullets, teenagers listening to lite rock, necrophilia, terrible government security, brain munching and plenty of slimy, freakish canned zombies.

It’s a wild, bloody, stupid ride with Julie and Curt as they tamper in God’s domain and end up paying the price. It’s not quite Bride of Frankenstein…hell, it’s hardly Bride of the Monster. But Return of the Living Dead cracks me up every time and you cannot deny the appeal of a beautiful  re-animated redheaded  zombie girl with metal stuff shoved through her flesh.

Well, I think I’ve sufficiently creeped you all out enough. Enjoy the latest offering from yours truly, The Primal Root, and The Rotten Reviews.

Stay Trashy!

-l Root

 




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