Ahhh, the fresh beginnings of 2012. A brand spankin’ new year with so much hope and potential! Well, unless this sucker turns out to be the last. Hence, why the gang here at The Trash Cinema Collective made sure to kick this year off right with a blazingly dark and sexy spread by one of our favorite up and coming models and aspiring writers: Whitlee Sabbath Flinn! A spread inspired by Fight Song era Marilyn Manson? Seems rather apropos to this connoisseur of filth. An enormous fan of horror, deviously alluring and a close personal friend of ours here at The Collective, Whitlee seems like the perfect way to get what could our last year on Earth off on just the right note. Be sure to check out her sites and let Whitlee know what you think of her set! Stay Trashy, Gang! – Root
Whitlee, tell us a little about your personal philosophy regarding Trash Horror Films:
“I’m a huge horror fan in general, although I’m a very picky, harsh critic when it comes to any movie I watch, great trash films are very dear to my heart! There’s something so special about combining great horror, with the hilarious comedy of everything that’s going on in the film just being ridiculous! It’s that this-is-so-bad-that-it’s-good-feeling that pumps me up every time I watch a new low budget horror film. Laughing while I’m disgusted is my favorite part. I’ll never forget the first time I watched “Dead Alive”, giggling madly as “Mom” popped the boil on her face, and the blood squirted right into the custard that was eaten without hesitation, but also being completely disgusted by the idea; that’s what makes trash horror great for me! Films like The Evil Dead, The Evil Dead 2, Army of Darkness, Dead Alive, and Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre series are examples of trashy horror films that I will love forever!”- Whitlee
Have you ever been the victim of an obscene phone call? To be honest, I never have. But, then again, I am a rather beefy guy in his late 20′s and I’m probably the last person on prospective pervert’s hit list. Honestly, I would probably end up on a pervert watch list before I was ever a victim of such shenanigans, but I digress. IF I ever were ever the victim of an obscene caller I’m sure I would be fascinated to hear the life story of the person whispering dirty, lustful phrases into my ear while the sound of lubed up wang-doodle stroking slaps about faintly in he background over the phone line. Forget the story of Martin Luther King Jr. or Abraham Lincoln, tell me the story of this heavy breathing, faceless, sexual deviant!
Our film begins with Robert (David Book) rolling out of bed, checking the time, and then going to his apartment window to peep on the couple in the building right across from him. The lovers engages in some hardcore 70′s sex, with pounds of heavy pubic coverage, odd usage of hair during oral sex where the guy rubs his shaggy head of hair against his lover’s muff in what comes off looking more like a blind man having lost his way to the vagina than resembling anything even remotely erotic, and a sudden INTENSE difference in this guys erection size. My only guess is that someone slid a stunt cock in there at one point or another… Robert watches, chaffs the carrot, and becomes obsessed…
Over the course of the film we learn Robert harbors incestuous feelings for his Mother and sister . He thinks back to two memories in particular while in the company of a very bored prostitute with intense grandma hair. One features his sister, who catches him peeping, and then allows him to fondle her while asking him if he thinks she’s attractive and if he likes her “tits”. The other is of his topless mother, (again) catching him peeping, who berates him, topless, as he stares at her “cratch” and impressively proportioned boobs that bounce around freely as she shakes her finger at him hollering “You’re a bad boy! What am I going to do?” The answer? Repeat those two lines for ten minutes while remaining topless and allowing your son to continue to ogle your lady flesh. It’s excitement by repetition for young Robert and it seems to have left a lasting impression.
The bulk of the film is made up of Robert fooling around with prostitutes and harassing his voluptuous red-headed neighbor Carol (Monique Starr) via uninspired sleazy talk over the phone. It’s never really made clear as to why he latches onto this neighbor, which could have easily been justified in the story if she even remotely resembled the Mother or Sister he lusted over in flashback, but that’s apparently not the case here. It seems he is only obsessed with her because…she’s there and answers the phone. The creators of the film obviously spent a little bit of time trying to create a somewhat realistic, believable, character out of Robert but some of the dots just don’t connect.
By film’s end Robert manages to con his way into Carol’s life through feigned car troubles, a lunch date and then offering to come over to protect her from the terrible voice on the phone. It’s “Night Callers” central relationship/plot point, and one that was in dire need of more attention within the story. But, I guess that’s the short fall of most pornographic films that strive to meld with another genre. The story has to be put on hold repeatedly in order for a scene of intense genital penetration and cock gobbling may be inserted. (pun intended?) The central growing relationship between Robert and Carol is mostly left by the way side with little development and depressingly falls back on the old thriller convention of the damsel in distress being dumb as a sack of used prophylactics. It makes no sense that Robert can weasel his way into Carol’s life with with such incredible ease! Especially when she’s in such a huff over the Night Caller.
Night Caller does offer up some cool surprises, my favorite of which is a little diversion, where we are introduced to a blonde, husky- voiced character named Helen, whom Robert has called in he hopes of overhearing some good jerk-off material. Helen is framed in a very tight close-up of her face as the scene commences only to pull back and reveal that Helen is, in fact, a man in drag, and is getting head from a female dressed up as a man. It’s the most intriguing and inventive scene of a film filled with rather generic material. It continues into a relatively well shot sex scene and ends with dual money shots (!!!) as Helen cums not once, but twice, in a period of about 3 minutes. Not only this, but Helen’s partner, after a lengthy period of tit fucking, holds Helen’s cock in her hand and takes the first of his load up her nose (on accident) and then aims Helen’s tool right at her eye and takes his second blast of chunky dick snot (which looks to be the bulk) right in her eyes! It’s a painful (and hilarious) moment for the viewer and it must have been pretty tough for actress Laura Bond as well, whose expression is one of annoyance, agony and “Fuck, why did I just point this thing right at my eyes?” I guess when you’re suffocating on a porn load that just shot up your nasal cavity, you aren’t thinking clearly anymore.
My biggest gripe with this film is the damn score by Richard Silsby. I’m not sure what they were thinking but it the score consists of droning noises and repetitive minor chords that give every single sex scene a sad, creepy, monotonous tone. I understand, this is a sad kind of thriller, but for crying out loud nothing makes a fuck scene more boring than this crap! Give it a listen and I am sure you’ll agree. One interesting thing I noticed was how one of the riffs in the score sounded remarkably similar to the JAWS theme…
The story of Night Caller isn’t exactly a pleasant one and the whole thing will leave most viewers feeling sad, scared and dirty in a way they had no intended. It’s kind of like Taxi Driver if it were all a bout a chronic masterbator who wanted to fuck his Mom and ended up living out a rape fantasy rather than “saving” a young Jodie Foster. Despite the shortcomings in the script, score and cinematography, Night Caller tries hard to deliver more than just your run of the mill porn film. It’s certainly different and presents some bold and intriguing ideas that are sure to hit a few nerves and make more than couple viewers squirm in their seats.
Night Caller was a film made early in the cannon of both writer Dean Rogers and legendary porn director Anthony Spinelli. Testing the waters here, the two would go on to create such classics as “Nothing to Hide”, “Skin on Skin”, “Talk Dirty to Me” and “Revenge of the Pussy Suckers from Mars”. Spinelli had over one hundred films to his credit before passing away in May of 2000 at the age of 73. The man’s legacy speaks for itself.
Night Caller is a greasy, creeper of a flick. Certainly not for the casual purveyor for Trash and Sleaze Cinema. However, if you are looking for one dark, oddball XXX film that will have you feeling filthy in no time, I cannot recommend Night Caller enough!
When I think of monsters larger than life a number of creatures come to mind. Of course, Godzilla, King Kong, Cloverfield…Hell, even Bruce from JAWS and the graboids from Tremors make appearances. And then there’s Rawhead Rex, the red headed step-child of all giant monsters. Yeah, while Godzilla is off crushing noodle factories in Japan, Rawhead Rex is stomping around rural Ireland ripping the heads off teenage love birds and literally pissing in the faces of local priests. Now this is The Root’s kind of monster. Sure, Rawhead’s not nearly as tall as some of the other monsters on the block, but he makes up for his mere 10 or 11 foot tall stature with plenty of murderous spunk and personality. Unlike other monsters who are brought about by man’s experimenting, or are simply Mother Nature’s own killing machines, Rawhead is just a mean mother fucking demon. He’s not here for sympathy or for us to see ourselves reflected in him…no. This guy just wants to bite your face off and smear his shit on the bloody mess beneath. I doubt you will find a sicker, meaner, more sacrilegious monster in 80′s cinema. I feel it is my duty, as ambassador of the Trash Cinema Collective, to shine a light on one of the nastiest, meanest, most atrocious cinematic monsters ever brought to life, Mister Rawhead Rex.
"I feel good about me!"
Our movie takes place in a dreary farming community in Ireland where a group of men try to remove and ancient totem from one of their fields. Soon, the sky darkens, red lightening rains down and the totem falls releasing a horrifying demonic monster older than the Christian faith whose only purpose in existing is to destroy any and everything in it’s ugly path. At the same time, an American family has come to town headed by historian and writer, Howard Hollenbeck, who is traveling the countryside compiling research on pre-Christian sacred sites and is interested in the local church’s unique history and stained glass windows. All the while, Rawhead is painting the entire countryside rd with the grue and entrails of the local villagers, twisting off heads, terrifying children, setting people on fire and tearing ladies blouses off to expose their breasts before tossing them into trees. How can Rawhead be stopped? The clues and secrets to the creatures destructon are all held within the walls of the towns ancient church. Can Hollenbeck get aid from the incompetent local authorities, deal with the psychotic Reverend Coot’s and unlock the mysteries to defeating Rawhead Rex before he destroys the town and Hollenbeck’s family?
Rawhead Rex is based of a short story by Clive Barker, the man who brought us Hellraiser and Nightbreed. not only boasting source material from Clive Barker, but a screenplay by the man as well, Rawhead Rex isn’t a very good movie. However, it is a ridiculously fun and entertaining one. The movie actually follows the original story pretty closely but is also devoid of just about all the thought provoking, serious pagan/spiritual concepts that made the story such a brilliant, philosophical read and, instead, just goes berserk and delivers a fucking crazy ass monster movie that delivers all the goods. That is, if you don’t mind a generous helping of cheese with your cinematic entree.
"Oh yeah, your lymph nodes are WAY swollen..."
The film itself is competently made and pretty well acted all around. Director, George Pavlou, does an excellent job of keeping the pace up, composing some fantastic shots and utilizes them to their best affect, and even takes some risky chances with his subject matter. Keep in mind, Rawhead Rex was released right in the midst of the British “Video Nastis” fiasco, so Pavlou had to walk a very fine line in order for his film to see the light of day. In all honesty, the violence here works rather well. It’s kind of muted in parts but it’s still gets the point across. But where Rawhead really scores points with me is that it has the brass balls to put kids in mortal danger, and even goes out of it’s way to kill a few! Yes, Rawhead completley destroys a kid or two in his rampage. It happens just out of camera shot but with some great post production foley, the sound of these kids getting folded in half and ripped into meaty chunks drives the point home.
Now, I know everyone’s gripe about Rawhead Rex is how shitty his costume is. You know, I love the way Rawhead looks. It’s cheesy as all hell and nearly destroy the credibility of the film, but there’s something about it I find really endearing that keeps this whole affair on a B-Movie, Drive-In level. Really, the the monster looks like a cross between a dog, a horse, and The Ultimate Warrior. He’s goofy enough to make you laugh, but strange enought that you don’t want that fucker within 1,000 yards of you. I, for one, appreciate Rawhead’s fantastic dark sense of humor and that so much of the violence is delivered tongue in cheek. Don’t get me wrong, there are some creepy ideas at play here, a legitimate sense of dread, and a hand full of genuinely shocking scenes… but you cannot deny the film i a Hell of a lot of fun. There are moments when Rawhead runs after people where he looks like a little boy skipping and hopping after them, moments where he celebrates turning over motor homes where he begins dancing like Jennifer Beals in Flashdance, he even whips it out and pisses on a kneeling, willing, Reverand Coot’s in a kind of demonic Golden Shower baptismal cleansing, in what is possibly the film’s most notorious scene. Personally, I couldn’t stop laughing.
I can't help but wonder what Rawhead looks like with his mouth shut. Such a Chatty Kathy, that guy...
Within all this bizarre-o action, blood thirsty monster mayhem, and religious nose thumbing, is a pretty interesting story. Sure, it’s not at all what Clive Barker probably envisioned but it still manages to please as crazed, no holds barred, monster movie sporting a larger than usual set of testicles it drags through the dirt behind it. There are so many aspects of Rawhead Rex that are worth praising. I especially loved the ending conceit the Rawhead Rex can only be destroyed by that which he can never be…and finding out exactly what that means. It’s a rather poetic and lovely idea tossed into an otherwise wild, and grotesque mix. But it’s moments like these where the air is cleared of the action and horror campiness and a little bit of heart shines through.
I highly recommend Rawhead Rex as pure, unadulterated B-movie love. If you come across a copy for cheap, snatch it up as quickly as you can. As the runt of the larger than life monster litter, Rawhead is about as fun and lovable as they come and well worth bringing into your home. Even if he’s not house broken.
Hey Gang, The Primal Root, here, wishing you and yours a Happy Holiday season! That is, if you can make it through the evil that is Glen Morgan’s Black Christmas remake… Hang tight with your buddy, Root, as he tries the wade through the numerous subplots, the dozen characters and the non stop flashbacks that explain away our main antagonist(s).
Watch as The Root tries to transform this hunk of coal into a diamond in this, our final Rotten Review of Year Three, here at The Trash Cinema Collective!
“This is too much madness to explain in one text!” – Jerome, Attack the Block
Did you see this summer’s Super 8? The ultimate tribute to Speilberg style sentimentality set against a small town’s own little alien apocalypse that pulls at the heart strings as people are getting their heads crushed and fathers learn to forgive? Yeah, me too. I thought it was good for what it was…done to death (but never with as many lens flares) and a bit contrived, but it was kind of sweet even if it was clinically brain dead and out of touch.
And then there’s Attack the Block, a badass, go for broke alien invasion movie (of sorts) that pulls no punches, delivers a believable coming of age message and refuses to give all the kids in the film their own little happy ending…unless you consider getting your head bitten off and then chucked across the room a happy ending, which just might be for some of you weirdos! ( You know I love you.
Attack the Blocks opens as a rather attractive young woman named Sam (Jodie Whittaker) is attacked outside of her apartment complex in London by a group of 5 teenagers. Just as they get her wallet and the ring off her finger something crash lands into the roof of a parked car. The lovely young woman runs off and the ring leader of our motley crew of Thug Life Goonies, Moses (John Boyega) is attacked by a fuzzy monkey monster with a gob full of shark teeth. After the initial attack Moses vows the kill whatever the Hell just attacked him, and keeping to his word, Moses and pals track the thing down and crush it’s skull. And this all takes place before the title even appears.
Blockies Never Say Die! Wait, that's a lie...
As you might guess, these actions call down the fury of some other aliens who are a total different breed of monster than the one the gang brutally stomped to death earlier. And these creaures are quite the sight to behold. Giant, deep black, dog-like monsters who run on all fours and sport glowing blue mouths full of rows and rows of razor sharp teeth intent of ripping apart anything and everything that gets in the way of their goal. The kind of resemble what the Muppets in Hell might look like…
Along the way, our heroes not only have to try and avoid and do battle with these unnamed monstrosities, but they are also being tracked down by a ruthless, jackhole of a drug dealer by the name of Hi-Hatz (Jumayn Hunter) who can’t aim his gun worth a damn, has the top floor penthouse suite on the block where he grows enough weed to fill an entire room, and doesn’t give a flying fuck about the flesh hungry aline monsters on a rampage, He just wants to pop a cap in Moses for reasons I will let you find our for yourself.
I was surprised by Attack the Block after hearing so many mixed reviews. It’s a blast of pure energy and an honest take on a corrupted youth culture who puts an emphasis on the perceived Scarface rule of respect being a one way street and bullying people in order to get that kind of respect. As the gang is chased around the block by these beasts they are repeatedly confronted with the repercussions of their own thuggish actions in how people react to and treat them. That, in fact, you ARE responsible for your own actions and you do have a choice. Because however you take on a situation, however you treat others and the actions you make, will always have repercussions.
Not a bad message for a movie littered with dead kids, immolated aliens corpses and plenty of fireworks. Really, our main character Moses goes through quite the transformation as the movie progresses as he steadily realizes the errors of his ways. At first blaming society, and then the government and then coming to terms with the idea that he just might be responsible for the hellish situation he’s currently in.
Sometimes you have to man up and take responsibility for your actions. And sometimes you have to risk life and limb to make amends to the ones you’ve wronged and the one’s who are indirectly affected by your own actions. Attack the Block is about growing up not just into a man, but into a responsible one. One willing to put things right and take responsibility. That it takes more courage to make things right than it does toconstantly blame everyone else.
If you ask me, it’s a damn good message and one worth sending. Especially if you are able to deliver it with such an entertaining mix of alien carnage, samurai sword battles, explosions and epic one liners.
“You see Santa Claus tonight you better run boy, you better run for ya life!” – Grandpa, Silent Night, Deadly Night
Hey Gang,
Christmas comes early this year and YOU are invite to Bird’s Aphrodisiac Oyster Shack at 325 N. Bronough Street, Tallahassee, Florida 32301 on December 3rd 2011 for a 10pm screening of Silent Night, Deadly Night and our very first Black Elephant Holiday Gift Exchange!
…
It’s your pal, The Primal Root, and it is my pleasure to announce that after a long, grueling beat down of a poll over what film would be shown on our upcoming Trash Cinema Night the victor is…the brutal, bloody, dark comic classic of Christmas time child abuse, neglect and abject violence, it’s 1984′s controversial, banned and hated slasher flick, SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT!
Join Billy as he’s terrorized, tortured, tormented and transformed into a brutal Yule Tide killing machine taking dead aim at all the naughty folks stealing sleds, making the sign of the double backed mud weasel atop Mom and Dad’s billiard table, and singing Christmas carols while shitfaced.
It’s a harrowing and often darkly hilarious journey through a gore drenched winter’s wonderland as misunderstood, neglected and brutalized orphan, Billy, succumbs to his mental anguish and decides to go all vengeful Chris Kringle on his little town;s ass! But will Sister Margaret be able to stop him in time to save Christmas and stop the cycle of violence?
Join us for Trash Cinema Night’s at Bird’s Aphrodisiac Oyster shack on December 3rd and find out! This is an 18+ show due to violent and disturbing images involving Santa Claus. Oh yeah, worse still, there are some naked female breasts. :/
BLACK ELEPHANT HOLIDAY GIFT EXCHANGE!: Also, before we get to the movie we will be doing the Black Elephant Holiday Gift Exchange! Everyone who’s interested in participating should bring in ONE TRASHY GIFT wrapped to put under the tree. We will all draw numbers out of a hat to see who gets to pick what. Your gift need not be expensive but it certainly needs to be Trashy.
AS ALWAYS NO COVER CHARGE!
Just come on in to Bird’s, warm up with a shot of Dickel’s Whiskey, grab a juicy burger cooked to your specifications and with your desired toppings (You gotta try it with banana, peanut butter, bacon and cheddar. You can thank me later.) and get into the cynical, disillusioned holiday spirit!
The year was 2004 when all those old rumors surrounding George Romero’s long awaited fourth installment in his Dead series began lumbering back to life. For over a decade there were fan boy speculations about a “Twilight of the Dead” , which would be really awkward with the popularity of those Twilight flicks, or some other such continuation of the series. It wasn’t until early in 2000/2001 that steadily these rumors began transforming into fact. Romero was planning a new entry in his beloved, legendary, film series. My excitement could hardly be contained.
By June 2005 we finally had our long awaited fourth film, “Land of the Dead”. After years of hoping, false starts and sketchy rumors, there I was sitting in a theater seat, ticket stub in my pocket, about to see what Romero had cooked up for his starving fans. And to tell you the truth, I was a little underwhelmed on my first viewing. I’m sure a lot of it had to do with how much I had built this film up in my head over the two decades worth of anticipation, but I just didn’t think it held a candle to the original trilogy. The message seemed scatter shot, the characters thin, and the dialog cheesier than skating rink nachos. I left having enjoyed myself but also feeling disappointed.
Now, looking back on Romero’s Land of the Dead almost seven years later, and in light of current events here at home and on Wall Street, his fourth Dead film has suddenly clicked with me and it’s message, it’s purpose, has become very clear.
As Romero’s Dead series has progressed our sympathy has been manipulated and shifted over to the living dead. The seeds were subtly planted in Dawn of the Dead but it wasn’t until Bub showed up as the star zombie in Romero’s Day of the Dead (85) that we all began the empathize with what we had always seen as a monster. Bub recalled much of his living memories and even expressed very human, very un-zombie like emotions despite craving oozy living flesh to munch on. There was still something there. Something human. And by the end of Day of the Dead Bub proved to be more human and possess a purer spirit than most the human characters that populated the film. And in that idea Romero brought us as close as we’d ever been to siding with the shambling, decaying, walking corpses. Hell, we even cheer for Bub by the film’s end when he exacts revenge over those who have wronged him.
In Land of the Dead Romero asks us to almost explicitly see ourselves as the Dead, who in this film represent the disenfranchised. Those who have been left behind with nothing except the possibility of the wealthy, powerful, elite will send in their troops to take whatever they can get their hands on in order for the rich to have their Scotch, cigars and Pringles which I’m pretty sure I spotted on route to Fiddler’s Green. When the zombie apocalypse happens we will all be longing for the comfort of a can of Pringles.
Fiddler’s Green is a high rise fortress, a kind of utopia, for the wealthiest of zombie apocalypse survivors to spend the rest of their days hiding behind it’s concrete walls wearing the finest of clothes, eating hot meals and shopping their lives away as they towerhigh above the dead who are kept out by the bordering river and strategically placed electric fences. But, outside of Fiddler’s Green is another story. Also kept out are those deemed unworthy. Other living survivors who, for whatever reason, aren’t worthy of living a life of protected, maintained luxury. Fiddler’s Green is surrounded by make shift shacks, decayed building, sick, tired, dirty and poor humans struggling to survive with no aid of any kind. Those who cannot live in Fiddler’s Green are given few choices: They are put to work as part of the new military force put together to protect the wealthy, manufacture and deal drugs, prostitution, gambling,risk your life as entertainment for the masses as a contestant in a makeshift game of death, or you can try and survive on the streets. Good luck!
It’s a strange concept thing to imagine that money could mean anything at all after the dead pretty much take over the planet, but if you can put aside your disbelief, there is a very poignant message about the haves, the have nots, and those who are considered less than human as an insurgency rises among the living’s lower class aims to over throw the current power elite and replace it with a more communal government and the dead who have begun communicating, have had enough, join together, and strike back against their oppressors.Because when the power and the dead are placed side by side, there is very little difference besides one being full of warm flesh and blood and the other craving to sink it’s rotten teeth into it. And as the living dead make their way to Fiddler Green, tear down it’s walls and begin ripping apart the entitled citizens cowering within, it’s impossible not to cheer for those who have been ignored, abused and left to rot beyond the cities borders.
I implore you to go back and watch Land of the Dead again while the memory of the bank bailouts we payed for, the economic crisis that ended in many of us being laid off, and the Occupy Wall Street Movement where peaceful protesters were beaten mercilessly is still fresh in your mind. No matter what demons, creatures or myths we create to symbolize our societal fears and angst the greatest threat you and I shall ever face is one other. Specifically those who have been corrupted by power and greed.
Land of the Dead worked well as an allegory for Bush era 9/11 anxieties but also seems to fit just as well within our current situations here at home as the division between the classes continues to grow ever wider. In the film, the dead are easily distracted by fire works. As they explode over head in beautiful arrays of bright colors the dead cannot help but stop in their tracks and give these meaningless, momentary bursts of light their full attention. One cannot help but draw a parallel between the dead’s mindless attention to these fireworks (AKA: sky flowers) and the appeal of reality television, celebrity gossip, and other such none sense we are fed and made to believe is important to our every day lives when there are far more important issues at hand. It’s easy to tune out and focus on the meaningless. The trick is, to get your eyes off the ‘Sky Flowers” and focus on what’s right in front us. What actually matters.
Romero has a lot to say in Land of the Dead and, in the case of all important works, it’s all open to interpretation. But when I watch it today I can’t help but see it as a very timely “revenge of the repressed” fable that is perfect for where we are as a society and it’s by no means a happy one. We can only hope that one day, maybe, a new society might come in, devour the old and give us something new and better.
The Primal Root here, and man, I just can’t get into the Halloween spirit this year! It just feels as if I’ve seen every Halloween themed horror movie out there a million times! Just sitting here at Video 21 waiting to close down for the night, contemplating going Trick or Treating, when some last minute customers barge in and all of a sudden I find myself face to face with just piece of Trash Cinema I had been hoping for: Rocktober Blood.
Rocktober Blood is an inept, blood soaked, hair metal epic! Featuring some of the worst acting I’ve ever witnessed, poor production values, terrible editing and some genuinely catchy cheesy 80′s metal tunes. Plenty of murder, mayhem, plot twists, brain hemorrhaging reveals, 30 minute long bathing sequences and one incredible finale that takes place during the now LEGENDARY Rocktober Blood Concert of 1984.
So join me, your host The Primal Root, and get into the Halloween spirit as we check out one of the strangest, goofiest and trashiest films from the VHS era! Join me for a heaping helping of, Rocktober Blood!
And a VERY Special Thanks to Kevin Johnson of Celluloid Cesspool for not only introducing us to Rocktober Blood bot for sending us his personal copy which made this Rotten Review possible. Many thank, my friend!
Hey Gang! Yesterday I spent a good portion of my waking hours sorting through tons of creepy, sexy, strange music so I could put together a list of songs for my favorite night of the year, Halloween. I began compiling and typing and about 5 hours later I had to cut myself off because the list had suddenly become a small novel.
So, I figured for the sake of all my fellow Collectors I would go ahead and cull the heard and select a handful of favorites fro you to peruse. And NO, there will be no HALLOWEEN BY THE MISFITS or BELA LUGOSI’S DEAD BY BAUSHAUS! I am trying to spotlight some often overlooked songs on the eternal Halloween jukebox.
And, please, by all means, list some of your favorite Halloween songs in the comments! Enjoy!
Ah, nothing says it’s time for Halloween like the Sister’s Wiggin rock trio, The Shaggs, singing the praises of our favorite holiday! Really, just one listen to this sucker and you will be convinced, yes, it’s Halloween.
Favorite Lyrics: All the kids are happy and gay. There doesn;t seem to be a cloud in their way. But when it’s over. and they’ve had all their fun, they’ll wish that Halloween had just begun.
word.
For those who know me this should come as no surprise. I am an avid fan of Queens of the Stone Age and this track. ‘Burn the Witch’ off their album Lullabies to Paralyze is a perfect blend of Halloween spirit and the bands typical Devil may care swagger. Perfect opener for your Halloween debauchery.
Favorite Lyrics: Fan the flames with a little lie, then turn your cheek, until the fire dies
The skin it peels, like the truth, away. What it was I will never say…
Meant as a satire of Bob Geldof’s “Do They Know it’s Christmas”, “Do They Know It’s Halloween” begs American’s to save the country from the horror that is…Halloween. Track features such artists as Beck, Roky Erickson, Karen O, Fiest, Sonic Youth and Arcade Fire. Simply put, this song is epic.
Favorite Lyrics: ‘Fools! You think you can stop Hallowe’en?’ ‘The world can’t hear your useless plea!’
‘It’s too late! Our orange and black plague will soon consume them all!’ ‘Then everyone will understand the true meaning of Hallowe’en…’
Looking to turn your Halloween soiree in a shit kicking, badass ruckus? Look no further than the twisted musings of Haunted Garage! They;re sick, they’re vile. and their music is custom made for late night Halloween horror.
Favorite Lyrics: Just call me Satan in the morning, just suck my dick before you leave me.
Taking things into a darker direction, VAST’s “Pretty When You Cry” , every time I listen to, just makes me feel a littler drty, A little violated. Maybe its because it reminds me of the video? Perhaps the lyrics that sound like a sociopath who likes to cut up young girls justifying his actions, or the dark, moody, hypnotic music? Perhaps a combination of all three? Either way, the song is one of the catchiest songs possibly about manipulating a murdering women ever made. Which is quite the feat.
Favorite Lyrics: You’re made of my rib, oh baby, you’re made of my sin. And I can’t tell where your lust ends and where your love begins…
Okay, yeah, I realize Yeah Yeah Yeahs are a bit poppy but there are few bands around singing really good danceable rock music about decapitation.
Favorite Lyrics:Off, off, off, with your head. Dance, dance, dance, ’til you’re dead.
If you’re chasing trouble on Halloween might as well make this your soundtrack. Because there’s nothing like causing mayhem while shaking your ass to the beat.
Favorite Lyrics: I’m gonna browse for a woman who can help me chase the devil. Yeah, I’m gonna chase the devil tonight. GET DOWN!
A bit of a stalker song but it’s got a cool hook and a very creepy vibe to it. Which makes sense.
Favorite Lyrics: I know you’re probably getting ready for bed. Beautiful woman, get out of my head. I’m so tired of the same old crud. Sweet baby, I need fresh blood.
One of my favorite tracks off The Raveonettes’ album “Lust, Lust, Lust”, “Dead Sound” is a sad song that is really upbeat. It may not explicitly be about anything Halloween related but the overall feel of the the song and the repeated line “Dead Sound…Dead Sound” makes it work on a Halloween playlist. Morose, chilly, up-tempo and simply a great track. Other stuff to check out by The Raveonettes for you Halloween playlist: Attack of the Ghost Riders, Do You Believe Her, Bowels of the Beast, My boyfriend’s Back and Beat City
Favorite Lyrics: And now you go through a million girls snd try to pick what’s right. When nigtfall comes and you’re still alone do you feel it deep inside?
Oooh, Nick Cave, there are few artists that I listen to more often once autumn rolls into town. This has been a Halloween favorite of mine since as far back as I can recall. Nick singing the classic” Up Jumped the Devil”, a cautionary tale about where you’ll end up if you are up to the Devil’s business. Which, I am certain to be up to this Halloween…
Favorite Lyrics: O poor heart, I was doomed from the start. Doomed to play the villians part. I was the baddest Johnny in the apple cart. My blood was blacker than the chambers of a dead nun’s heart.
Well, there are a few of my selections for this year’s festivities. I hope you enjoyed at least one or two of them. Be sure to add them to your playlist this Halloween just in case I drop by unannounced having transformed into a werewolf. Now, please, share some of your favorites with The Collective! Happy Halloween, Gang!
Those who know me also know Drive-In Critic Joe Bob Briggs is pretty much my icon. My hero. The man I look up to as my role model. And those who know Joe Bob Briggs are well aware that he’s broken down the formula that makes a B-Movie worth out time. The elements are the fabled, legendary, Three B’s. That is: Blood, Breasts and Beasts. My entire life this has proven to be the key to my enjoyment of a bad movie. As long as those three ingredients are there I’m not bored.
And then I saw the recent film, “Creature”. A southern fried monster tale about a mean tempered, horny, century old alligator man who rules over a stinky, tobacco stained Louisiana swamp land looking for a place his slimy gator seed can take purchase. Lucky for him, three supernaturally idiotic marines, two of whom bring along their girlfriends and one who brings along his in heat, hooter flashing sister, have decided to head out into the swamp in search of a death trap, excuse me, I mean…tourist trap.
Who will survive and who gives a shit?
The six attractive younguns stop by a local gas station called Captain Spaulding’s Museum of Monsters and…oh shit, no, wait, it’s just called Chopper’s and is run by…Chopper played by Sid Haig. His little gas station/general store also happens to be a bit of a museum honoring the local legend…Lockjaw, the malevolent Alligator man who lives in the swamps. Anyway, Chopper tells them a little bit of the legend, gives them directions (any of this sound familiar?) and the kids head off to go die after flashing their tits and drinking some wine.
It’s a familiar set up and the whole film feels like a brain damaged cross breeding of Rob Zombie’s House of 1,000 Corpses and Adam Green’s Hatchet. I know both of those films have achieved cult status ( The former of which I can understand. The latter? Not so much…) and I am sure this horror abomination will fit snugly amongst that cannon as an interesting side note to that strange slasher fan boy genre birthed early this century.
Might as well kiss that ass goodbye...
It’s that backwoods hillbilly genre that really took off during the naughties with independent horror. From Wrong Turns, to Devil’s Rejects to Texas Chainsaw Massacre reboots, everyone was digging on uneducated, blood thirsty, backwoods, gut munchers. Hell, that resurgence took hold even before that whole Saw franchise flooded the market with torture horror. However, this trashy flick, “Creature”, pulls one aspect of these films that’s typically only touvhed upon and forces it out there into the spotlight for the audience to take a long, creeped out look at. And that element is the wonderful world of incest.
Yes, incest. I know the old southern saying, “The closer the kin, the deeper in” but this flick takes that sentiment to whole different level. Remember when I told you one of the marines brought his red headed, libido of a rabbit, sister along? Well, when her attempts at date raping one of her brother’s friend’s girlfriends doesn’t work out she finds her brother…and gives him a sloppy handjob in the middle of the swamp and then complains that he now can’t fuck her with his wet noodle. It’s awkward, to say the least and luckily Sid Haig rushes onto the scene and punches her square in the nose before things can escalate. Being an only child, I’m not sure if this is how regular brother and sisters, umm, handle one another. They never really touched on this sort of thing on Family Matters or Step by Step.
Anyway, the incestuous sister’s got a date with that wild man bachelor known as Lockjaw!
Lockjaw finds the scent of Herbal Essence hard to resist.
Yes, the eternally wet, red head, incestuous sister is pulling a double header tonight and is now bound, gagged, and ordered to fuck a giant gator man. So, bestiality is now entering the equation in “Creature. But, see, she can only bump uglies with Lockjaw once her feet are hacked off. …the Hell? If someone could explain to me why in the word that is necessary I would greatly appreciate it. I don’t know why in the world they felt the need to make the plot of this thing so damn convoluted and jam as many rules and oddly out of place plot twists as they could when none of it really goes anywhere.
It’s such a basic story. You have a Gator Man looking for love. A pack of attractive twenty-somethings, three of which possess the proper genitals, wonder into his home turf. The movie practically writes itself and would have been a riot if they had kept it simple, fast paced and FUN! Whoever wrote this thing just bogs the movie down with weird side tracks and sub plots and meaningless stretches of dialog that aren’t funny, don’t mean anything within the context of the movie and advance nothing. It’s as if they were struggling to make this thing feature length and just didn’t know what to do. The movie’s run time is 93 minutes but it feels like it goes on for over two hours as scenes drag into nothing over and over again with neither a payoff or anything that enhances the story.
Daphne and Velma share a tender moment on their latest kooky caper!
HOWEVER! The film does feature a ton of nudity! Three gratuitously displayed pairs of lovely lady breasts and even some in your face full frontal female flesh(Breasts, Buns AND BUSH! Booger would be pleased.) for the audience to ogle in the very opening of the film. This poor, totally naked woman has no lines, is completely nude and is killed and out of the movie in about 5 minutes time. I guess it’s a bad idea to go skinny dipping in a gator/rapey flesh eating Hell beast infested swamp. I am looking forward to her next project because in these 5 minutes Jennifer Lynn Warren won my heart and is one of the most memorable elements of the movie. Being naked as a jay bird certainly didn’t hurt…
The gore is a little lacking. I was expecting a bit more in a film about Lockjaw the Gator Boy who leaves a little to be desired as well. The creature effects are great and all but I couldn’t help but notice how the monster looks almost identical to the Koopa’s from the live action Super Mario Brothers movie. Yet, the fellow inside this creature suit does a great job bringing it to life and making the most of it. He possess, stalks and attacks like a pro. Sadly, we are never treated to a Lockjaw sex scene. SEE! Now that would have been entertaining! And we do get undeniable proof that such a scenario did occur at some point in the movie, but for whatever reason, we aren’t treated to that moment of pure animal-man on woman horror. Eh, maybe in the direct to video sequel starring Bill Moseley? Only time will tell.
"I Shouldn't Be Alive" New Season Begins This Fall
And they never did explain the regenerative properties of the swamp itself that a man could get shot square in the knee with a rifle then run on that leg for the next thirty minutes of the movie and not even limp. Well, maybe it’s just because he’s a marine? Either way, this might be my favorite unintentionally funny aspect of the film. How much the lead character gets shot, stabbed, and repeatedly crushed and beaten mercilessly by Lockjaw. Including one excruciatingly long slow motion sequence towards the end of the film where Lockjaw repeatedly pounds full force on the character’s sternum and ribs, and then, seconds after the attack, the character can simply get up and walk it off. I always thoroughly enjoy that sort of stupid shit in trashy films. There’s also a pretty hysterical spider attack sequence where a guy gets pounced by tarantulas and then treats the bites with…bottled water?
I just wish there had been more of that fun, dumb, stuff to tide me over in between scenes of nonsensical redneck banter, jewelry gifting, potato chip scavenging, and boyfriends getting upset because his girlfriend is getting naked in a tent and making out with another sexy woman looking to get a threesome going. Who ARE these people?
“Creature” has a whole lot of promise and I was eager to take the trip it so obviously wanted to deliver. But somewhere along the way it seems the whole thing got lost, forgot where it left it’s fun, Drive-In, B-Movie spirit and left us imagining all the awesomeness that could have been. “Creature’s” heart is in the right place and the filmmakers obviously have an affection for Trash Cinema. I mean, it was director Fred Andrews first time at bat, so I will cut him some slack. I just hope that the next film he delivers is a bit more streamlined and heavier on the sick, demented fun.
As Joe Bob might say, there’s just too much dang plot getting in the way of the story!
Stay Trashy!
-Root
And, yes, that’s Eggs from the second season of True Blood.
Your gift need not be expensive but it certainly needs to be Trashy.
