Posts Tagged ‘summer

16
Jul
17

(NSFW) Lady Zatanna: July Devil Girl of the Month

Hey Gang, The Primal Root here, and we are in the thick of summer. Time to get away on a relaxing vacation and escape the doldrums of your every day life and it’s mundane hassles. Just remember, it’s best to stay away from those damn tourists traps running up and down every stretch of Florida’s highways and bi-ways or you might end up losing time, money or your mind. Or…in the case of this month’s Devil Girl, the gorgeous and sultry Lady Zatanna, you could end up losing a whole lot more… Before you feast your eyes on Lady Zatanna’s sexy, alarming, cautionary spread and homage to one of the true classics of cinema, let’s get to know our Lady a bit better.

The Primal Root: Lady Zatanna, it is a pleasure to welcome you as Trash Cinema Collective’s July 2017 Devil Girl of the Month. What a gorgeous spread and you look phenomenal in it. What inspired you to recreate the shower scene from the Great Grandfather of slasher cinema,  Alfred Hitchcock’s classic Psycho?

Lady Zatanna: I recently got interested in modeling. I have always loved Jeremy’s style of photography (Dark Apple Photography) . I had never saw the movie prior to planning for this shoot.He asked me to get the feel for the scene so he let me borrow the movie; the original movie, the ’98 remake, and the biopic Hitchcock. It really got me prepped and pumped for the shoot.

PR: You know, my Mom always used to tell me that Psycho scarred her for life and that to this day she still gets creeped out when she takes a shower. Are there any horror films that traumatized you for life? 

LZ: The Ring. Anytime i see the tv go to that static it always reminds me of her crawling out of the tv. I have to rush over and turn it off. 

PR: Well, it is the middle of summer in Florida and it has been sufficiently stormy for some horror marathoning. Do you have any favorite summer time horror flicks or Trash Cinema picks?  

LZ:  Some of my favorite horror movies are The Blob, The Exorcist, and all of the Saw movies. They never get old to me.

PR: Three questions about this spread I have gotta ask: 1. Are you really screaming? 2. If so, did it freak out the neighbors? 3. Did you use chocolate syrup for blood like good ol’ Hitchcock did when he shot that scene?

LZ: I was not actually screaming. We shot this in a duplex apartment. So the silent scream was the only way to go. Trying to hold that pose led to constantly laughing. As you can see we eventually got it though. – We did in fact use chocolate syrup. Jeremy and I tried to find every behind the scenes on Psycho. That is where we found that chocolate syrup looks significantly like blood in black and white

PR: Lady Zatanna, tell us a little bit about yourself. What are your hobbies, passions, and plans for the future? 

LZ: I plan on working my ass off to get more shoots out in the open. I want to thank you Trash Cinema for giving us this opportunity. My passions include being a great mom, cooking bomb ass food, making money, and of course modeling.

PR: I see you have some gorgeous tattoos. Any plans for some in additions soon? 

LZ:Unfortunately with this shoot you couldn’t tell that i have eyes on the backs of my knees. It is my newest edition. I plan on being pretty much covered eventually.

PR: As has become tradition, do you have any words of wisdom for The Trash Cinema Collective members viewing your wet, bloody, sexy and horrifying Devil Girl spread? 

LZ: My words of wisdom would be to make sure you keep up with Dark Apple Photography because we have allot of new sets coming out that you wouldn’t expect. Stay positive and true to yourself.

PR: Finally, what song would you like our viewers to have ringing in their ears as the feast their eyes upon your spread?

LZ:  The song that I would choose to listen to while looking at this set is Somebody’s watching me by Rockwell.

Photography by Jeremy Strenth

http://www.facebook.com/mrjsphotos

 

10
Aug
16

(NSFW) Little China Brawl: August Devil Girl of the Month (2016)

Hey Gang, The Primal Root here, and it is my privilege to introduce to you our August 2016 Devil Girl of the Month, Little China Brawl. She is gracing us with astounding, dark, wet, sexy set drenched in gore paying homage to the quintessential 1980’s slasher series all Trash Cinema Collective Members hold near and dear to their filthy little hearts, A Nightmare on Elm Street. Let’s get to know Freddy’s wet dream, Little China Brawl, before we delve deep into the naked Nightmare on Elm Street…

 

The Primal Root: Little China Brawl, let me start off by complimenting you on such an incredible Devil Girl spread. It’s absolutely astounding. Why did you choose A Nightmare on Elm Street as your Trashy Devil muse?

Little China Brawl: Thank you for letting me join and take part in this! I think there’s nothing scarier than not being able to escape from your nightmares and what scares you can also be incredibly exciting.

TPR: All that blood! How was it modeling for your nekkid Devil Girl spread under such gory conditions and whose blood was it you used?

LCB: It was ridiculously enjoyable. It was fun to be all squirmy and sticky. It was really hard NOT to laugh… which I did quite a lot. And for legal purposes, I cannot at this time disclose whose blood it used to be. It’s mine now.

TPR: If you could pick one quote from Freddy Krueger that has touched you the deepest and filled your heart with inspiration, what would it be?

LCB: “Every town has an Elm Street.” I think that kind of speaks volumes to the nature that is Freddy. Everyone gets afraid and at some point you have to face it.

TPR: Freddy vs. Jason. Who should have won and why?

LCB:Freddy, because you can’t escape and you can’t stay awake.

TPR: When you aren’t being stalked and slashed in your worst nightmares by one of cinemas most iconic villains, what do you do for fun? What are some of your hobbies and claims to fame?

LCB: I’m either knitting or karaoking or doing comedy or a hybrid of them at the same time. I love keeping my hands busy so I’m either holding knitting needles or a microphone and I love getting loud. I’ve been pretty successful with my knitting and I’ve done conventions locally as well as out of town and fully funded three Kickstarters.

TPR: Alright, Dream Warrior, what are some of your favorite Trashy movies?

LCB: Easily, hands down, Frankenhooker. It’s the reason I wanted to become a devil girl. Exotic Zombie is definitely my devil idol.

TPR: What song would best accompany your Devil Girl spread?

LCB: I Want You by Elvis Costello sung by Fiona Apple. I love her delivery and how shakey and creepy she makes this already aggressive song.

TPR: Last, but not least, do you have any words of wisdom to pass on to The Trash Cinema Collective before we check out your Devil Girl spread?

LCB: Do what you love, and if what you love to do is get weird and naked you’re with the right people. Get trashy. You’re in good company.

Photography by Kayla King of Rewski Photography

 

25
Jun
16

(NSFW) The Teacher (1974) Too Cheeky

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“Well, come on in a minute… I’m not gonna rape you.” – Angel Tompkins as Diane Marshall in The Teacher

a Primal Root written review

Sexy, taboo, tawdry disturbing with just the right amount of putrid awfulness and sense of shame makes The Teacher (written and directed by Howard Avedis) unintentionally genius. The film is aware of it’s limitations, yet still manages to pull out all the stops and deliver a lowbrow, steamy, creepy chunk of sleazy entertainment that was, to my own amazement effectively erotic, which brought about by subtle, slow simmering means.

Most of the credit, if not all the credit, rest squarely on the capable, sensual shoulders of the ravishing Angel Tompkins (as The Teacher of the title, Mrs. Diane Marshall), but when you are effortlessly lovely and seductive as Ms. Tompkins’, all you need do is glance at local teenage rapscallion and it won’t be long before you have them eating out of your hand. there are many nuanced layers to this seedy, sexual creep fest. The most important of which involves a yellow slicker wearing psychotic stalker Vietnam war veteran named Ralph (played by excellent character actor, Anthony James, who turns the film’s most memorable performance.) who may or may not have been one of Diane’s early student/teacher sexual conquests and is now dangerously, murderously fixated upon her. I don’t believe this is ever made explicitly clear in the film, but Ralph’s doomed little brother, Lou (Rudy Harris Jr.) says his brother claims to have made the sign of double backed mud weasel with her at some point in the not too distant past. Ralph has a headquarters up int he top of a derelict building next to a dystopian marina where Diane parks her boat she somehow affords on a teacher’s salary in 1974. This boat’s primary purpose, it would seem, is for Diane to take it out in the harbor, about 500 yards from where she had it docked, take off her top and sun bath…while Ralph watches through the binoculars he keeps in his red velvet coffin up in his lair.

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And that’s how this whole sordid tale gets going, a pair of binoculars, a pair of sun baked boobs and a deeply disturbed Vietnam war veteran. Lou takes his best friend Sean (Jay North, that’s right, a slightly more grown up version of TV’s Dennis the Menace) to Ralph’s lair after the last day of school to take a peek at their teachers chesticles. As the gawk and stare, Ralph hides in the shadows, sneaks up behind the two unsuspecting high school students and scares the ever loving shit out of them. In fact, he scares his brother Lou so bad he falls of the roof and plummets to his death from the voyeuristic perch, where, from a bird’s eye view after he crunches to the pavement below, we can see blood pouring forth from what seems to be his denim clad asshole. Ralph freaks the fuck out and swears bloody, murderous revenge against Sean the innocent Sean for the murder of his brother. Of course, Sean shortly after become fuckmantically involved with Diane, which sends Ralph even deeper into super psycho homicidal behavior which makes for some very strange, very awkwardly funny and even somewhat affecting trash cinema moments.

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But, as you and I know, the opportunity to sexually experiment as a teenager with someone who looks like Angel Tompkins is an extreme rarity, so, despite the obvious liabilities to his young life, Sean loses his virginity and begins an illicit fuck buddy relationship with the seductive, easy as Sunday morning, Diane Marshall. However, I must acknowledge it took Sean a good amount of the film’s running time to get the courage to finally slip Diane the extra credit she’s been blatantly asking for ever since summer break begins. She seems to be after him in every scene they share together and he always brushes her off with is trademarked excuse, “I gotta go work on my van.” Pool parties, kitchen flirtations, laying around nekkid in the master bedroom asking him to kiss her sweet meat…okay, that last one didn’t ACTUALLY happen, but he does finally give into his desires, overcomes his fear of sex with a married woman who is ALSO his teacher, and they both love every damn second of the deep dicking.  However, as a viewer and a human being, the fact that it took this 18 year old boy so long to give in to his 28 year old teachers sexual temptation frustrated me as a sane human being. I mean, really, who cares if a deranged mad man with a saber and banana yellow rain jacket is out to slice you from groin to sternum and jump rope with a length of your shit filled intestines? All that beer drinking, fucking and frolicking are totally worth it in The Primal Root’s book. I say job well done, Sean! Life is fleeting, anyway. Go fuck your teacher, son.

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Oh, before I forget, Sean’s mother/pimp is played by none other than Miss Universe 1961, Marlene Schmidt, who quite a piece of Devil’s food cake, herself. She even has one of my favorite bizarre-o lines in the entire film as she chats bikini clad poolside with Diane, “I find him very attractive, even if he IS my son.” Man, not since Back to the Future has a film managed an Oedipal moment like that.

At the end of the day, Angel Tompkins really is what I take away from The Teacher. Well, that and an important lesson about never peeping on your teacher with binoculars of lunatics that live in rat infested demilitarized buildings near a pier. Angel is amply equipped and totally convincing in the roll of an experienced seductress. Someone who will stop at nothing until you drop your trousers and irrigate her soy bean field. Sure, she’s not an especially talented actress, but the lack of wardrobe does help take the edge off, but there’s no denying she is fucking stellar in the one moment when Sean admits in her and his parents that he was spying on her while she was nude sunbathing. Her satisfied, utterly aroused little smirk is goddamn lip smacking delicious. Ms. Tompkins seductively saunters from scene to scene with an unparalleled sense of self possession. It’s as if she’s seducing us as we watch, but that could just be me talking over the sound of my own raging boner.

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Anyway, The Teacher is a goddamn remarkable, low brow, trash cinema experience. It has enough  fun sex shenanigans to get your popcorn popping and a nice freakish mean streak to keep you wondering just where the fuck this batshit tale os sluts, psychos and dick brained teens is taking us. they sure as Hell don’t make ’em this sleazy anymore. The Teacher passes the test, every time, Gang.

I give The Teacher a solid 5 out of 5 Dumpster Nuggets. 90 minutes of playground love, Gang.

 

Stay Trashy!

-Root

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

06
Jul
15

DeLisa: July Devil Girl of the Month 2015 (NSFW)

Well, here we are, Gang. In the middle of another blisteringly hot summer here at The Trash Cinema Collective. What better way to relax than by stripping off those pesky clothes and skinny dipping in one’s favorite wet and wild locale? Sounds like a damn fine idea to me, that is…unless it’s off the coast of Amity Island. Thankfully, there’s July’s Devil Girl of the Month and damn good friend of ours here at The Trash Cinema Collective, DeLisa, who takes us on here stark nekkid journey to the notorious spot of several nasty fatal shark attacks. So, sit back, crack open an ice cold can of Narraganseet, and let’s have a toast to swimming with bowlegged women as you feast your eyes on the down and dirty beauty of our July Devil Girl of the Month, DeLisa! I’m sure you;ll agree with ol’ Bruce, she looks good enough to eat!

photography by Adam Barwick

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Stay Trashy!

-Root

06
Jul
15

JAWS 3-D (1983) Shitty Day at Zzzz World

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a Primal Root written review

“If he wouldn’t have pulled that old crotch trick, he never would have won.” Lea Thompson as Kathryn Morgan, JAWS 3-D

Man, the 1980’s were the golden age of franchise slasher flicks. Paramount pictures struck gore soaked gold with the all night escapades of Mr. Jason Voorhees, New Line would redefine bed pissingly terrifying nightmares with Wes Craven’s greatest achievement, A Nightmare on Elm street even gents like Michael Myers, Aliens Norman Bates and Leatherface caught their second wind in the 1980’s to varying degrees of success. So, how in the world could the third installment to the massively popular and overwhelmingly effective thrill ride that was JAWS fair in the decade of excess? The elements are all there, the setting is Sea World where there is a plethora of victims to choose from! Tourists, water skiers, assholes in Shamu costumes, other aquatic life like dolphins and orcas…Men, Women and Children of all varieties are ripe for the picking! Not only this, but this flick is in THE THIRD DIMENSION! So the action, the terror, the blood, the snaggle toothed gaping black hold of death will come floating right at us! How could this fail?

The Answer? Spectacularly.

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The flick opens with some undersea footage of fish swimming about, minding their own business, when all of a sudden red dye is released into the water and a bizarre munching noise is heard. We are then treated to an extended shot of a decapitated fish head as it’s head reflexively tries to gasp for air…IN 3-D!  It’s just as underwhelming and odd as it sounds. Once this little mystifying bit of stupefyingly mundane cinema is out of our way, our carnivorous friend follows a group of water skiers, led by absolute fox Lea Thompson (Back to the Future, Howard the Duck) into the lagoon around the world’s largest aquatic amusement park, Florida’s Sea World! Before you know it, an engineer goes underwater to chains the gate connecting the lagoon to the ocean shut and mysteriously vanishes. Well, we know he’s dead, as we witness some goofy editing, munching noises and a hilarious 3-D severed arm floating into our face,  but we gotta wait for the characters to catch up. Very late in the film the dead body of this guy floats into view of the tourists in the brand spanking new Sea World underwater kingdom. In the film;s one truly outstanding moments, the dead body comes bobbing into view in one of these underwater observation windows. The young teenage girl who spots him begins screaming her head off and tries to run away, when out of nowhere, a person who remains nameless and faceless, grabs her by the shoulder and shoves the terrified girl’s face against the window so that she is eye to eye with the guy’s gnawed up, water logged corpse. It’s a moment of unintentional dark comic gold and is probably the only thing I can recommend about this JAWS 3-D.

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Sorry, got off track there. Back to the story at hand as it is. The Brody Boys from JAWS and JAWS 2 are back. Sean (John Putch), the younger one, understandably, inherited his Father’s fear of the ocean while older brother Mike (Dennis Quaid) is an engineer at Sea World who designed and constructed and entire undersea kingdom attraction to bring in the tourists. Mike is living in sin with marine biologist/ animal trainer, Dr. Kay (My So-Called Life’s Bess Armstrong). It;s the eve of the grand opening of the undersea kingdom and Sea World owner/reckless idiot, Calvin Bouchard (Academy Award Winning Actor Louis Gossett Jr)  has hired prized game hunter and and world renown wild life photographer Philip FitzRotce (Simon MacCorkindale) to come photograph his water skiers.  Soon, the bodies start piling and our film;s scientists and engineers decide to capture the shark and raise it in captivity as an attraction. Against Dr. Kay’s orders and without her knowledge, Calvin decides to open the attraction about six months early before the great white is ready, and all the attention ends up killing the poor murderous, man eating shark. Unbeknownst to the crew at Sea World that just let their prized exhibit and living creature needlessly die in front of about 200 hundred drooling tourists, this great white was just the baby. Big Mama is now headed to Sea World and there’s going to be Hell to pay!

QUE THE BLOOD DRENCHED CARANGE!

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Eh, of let’s just watch some water skiers fall over before getting rescued. The some bumper boats topple over before their occupants get rescued. Then watch in terror as a raft is ripped apart holding a dozen or so people…and then watch them swim away unscathed. It’s honestly the most bloodless, boring, anticlimactic quest for vengeance featuring a mammoth, human crushing, flesh gnawing great white shark I’ve ever seen committed to film.  The only casualty is Lea Thompson’s thigh, which gets a three inch cut in it. It’s pretty goddamn underwhelming. Things get moderately more interesting as our Big Mama shark decides to bust up the Undersea Kingdom a little bit, flooding the underwater tubes filled with victims. Do any of them die? Not a one. They all survive. Still, watching a bunch of crotchety old people and young actors who suck at this profession scramble for a safe room and then try desperately to out act one another as panicked Florida sight seers. You want to be entertained? Just keep your eyes on the extras in the background.

Our big game hunter, FitzRoyce, devices a plan to trap Big Mama in an underwater tunnel and trap her there. The plan goes along swimmingly as Big Mama takes the bait and has a top speed of about 1/2 MPH. However, FitzRoyce turns out to be a total spazz and somehow finds himself alive inside Big Mama’s stomach. The editing is pretty fucking sketchy there seems to be a moment missing as he is one moment swimming away from the slow, mechanical  shark and the next shot shows him alive floating within Big Mama’s body. He is completely unchewed, but cannot make his way back out from inside of her. IT;s really awkward as Big Mama jus keeps flapping her jaw around and we watching as FitzRoyce flails about. Eventually, Big Mama somehow crunches FitzRoyce to death inside her belly and his blood pours out of her gills. Huh… That’s certainly a new spin on an old trick. It’s like trying to eat a piece of sushi by popping the piece inside your mouth and chewing it with your tongue as opposed to your teeth. But why in the wild world of sports would a shark do this? I mean, sure, it is surprising, but only because it’s so fucking strange.

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FitzRoyce does happen to show up in the final scene, still bobbing around in Big Mama’s mouth, as if lodged in her throat unable to escape. His dead body holds a grenade clutched in his cold, blue hand. Big Mama, in a slow motion scene so unintentionally comedic, so bat shit stupid it will leave your jaw on the floor, busts into the underwater control room to finally eat some people. Big Mama gets stuck in the window, but does manage to eat one of the black guys in the room before slowly moving her head side to side to allow time for Mike Brody to pull the pin on FitzRoyce grenade which blows Big Mama to bits, spitting out another lack luster 3-D effect in our face, this time, Big Mama’s chunky, bloody, recently blown out of her body’s jaws. It’s a ludicrous climax to a terrible and half hearted entry in the soon to be dead JAWS franchise.

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The technical flaws in JAWS3-D are a dime a dozen. Literally, scene by scene, shot by shot, the least never stops, from their trouble between night and day scenes, to terrible green screen effects and toy sharks with mouths fixed in place being rammed into miniature sets, it’s a movie of magnificent shittiness. By the end you’ll be wondering why Universal would even bother releasing something of such piss poor quality. The 3-D process makes the film look murky, the effects are scrapping the greasy bottom of the bargain basement, and there’s not a single likable, relatable character in sight. Also, one wonder just what in the world Sea World was thinking when they signed the contract to allow their theme parks be used in a a movie where the owner is an incompetent moron who risks the lives of visitors, employees and animals alike and portrays the park as a place completely incapable of keeping the guests safe. I’m sure their Public Relations lead didn’t was one of JAWS 3-D’s first casualties.

JAWS 3-D is possibly the most poorly crafted and executed major releases I have ever seen. One wishes Universal Pictures would have gone ahead with the spoof comedy sequel John Hughes and Ted Carrol from National Lampoon’s wrote, “Jaws 3, Humans 0″would have been green lighted instead. It would have been directed by Joe Dante (Gremlins, The Howling, Piranha) , too, and would have probably been fucking awesome. Instead, Universal shoveled this load of shit into cinemas and the rest is, as they say, history.

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What we are left with is an often boring, sometimes comically misguided sequel to a franchise that never should have continued past the original, let alone JAWS 2. It’s entertainment value is based solely on whether or not you;re the kind of person who can crack jokes and laugh through the non stop barrage of lameness. It’s worth watching simply to bare witness to the incredibly plummet from grace. It;s fascinatingly terrible to the point you cannot take your eyes off it/ You cannot imagine the film could get any more laughably bad, but then the next scene arrives, and they trump the previous moment of absurdity in spades.  It;s a perfect suckage machine, it’s really a miracle of filmmaking. JAWS 3-D is possibly the most astoundingly bad  sequel of the 1980’s. And that’s saying something.

I award JAWS 3-D ONE out of FIVE Dumpster Nuggets.  Watch with booze. PLENTY of booze. And strong friends with a penchant for  the dregs of trash cinema.

Stay Trashy!

-Root

21
Jun
15

JAWS 2 (1978) The Sacred Art of Self Immolation in Times of Crisis

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a Primal Root Review

“Get out the blankets, I’m getting black and blue marks all over my butt, and my mom’s starting to get uptight about them!” Tina, JAWS 2

Okay, let’s get this out of the way right up front,  Spielberg’s 1975 summer killer fish movie, JAWS, is a masterpiece. It truly is a fantastic piece of entertainment. Thrilling, fun, horrifying, populated with human characters we grow to care about and monster based in our own reality. Every time you hop in the ocean to frolic in the surf with some naked beach bunny looking to snorkel your wang-doodle, there’s a possibility that a 10 ton aquatic death train of razor sharp teeth and an appetite of destruction is bearing down on you with every intent to turn you into pulled pork and leaving nothing behind but a few buckets of human V-8 juice. Being a Florida native I was practically raised at the beach. Once I saw JAWS, I never looked at those waters the same way again. What’s so incredible, is that this 40 year old master class in how to make a fantastic horror film still holds up phenomenally well to repeat viewings. It’s been parodied endlessly, knocked-off and imitated, but no killer great white shark film will ever top it.

Then there’s JAWS 2. Taking place a few years after the events of the first film we find our star and sheriff of little Amity Island, Chief Brody (Roy Scheider) patrolling the beaches again. Taking care of children karatying the picket fences and what not. Until, one day, a pair of scuba divers go missing, Brody knows in his guts that it’s a great white who has made it’s way to the warm, calm, inviting waters of Amity Island which has suddenly become a favorite feeding ground for these black eyes, large mouthed death dealers.  As the narrator in the trailer for JAWS 2 explains “In all the vast and unknown depths of the ocean how could there have been only…ONE?” Sure, I can believe in there being more, but holy shit! To come back to the same little piece of turff that Bruce once went on a rampage through? I dunno, I’ll let it slide. After all, stranger things have happened, I guess.

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Brody’s concerns go unheeded by his wife and the Amity Island board of rich assholes, but soon a water skier gets munched into oblivion and her friend who was captain of the vessel towing her when she got gobbled gets so goddamned terrified that, in a moment of sheer bonkers, off the wall violent brilliance, she pours a can of gasoline all over herself and then blows herself up with a flair gun as our shark is gnawing her boat into splintery chunks. It’s absolute lunacy for about 45 seconds of screen time and, in this viewers opinion, marks the absolute high point of JAWS 2. It’s sad, pathetic and hysterical beyond measure. I’m not sure what her plan was, but it really went the Wile Coyote route. But it does end up giving shark 2 a really mean looking burn scar to make it look super tough and cool. It doesn’t really work in achieving this, but Freddy Krueger would take this exact same concept and run with it a few years later to much greater affect and acclaim.

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Now, before you start thinking this is a film concerning adults, I need to clue you in to the fact that the bulk of the movie centers on a group of interchangeable, unlikeable teenagers who enjoy sailing together all day every day. JAWS 2 was looking to tap into the dead teenager slasher market but never really has the stinky shark gonads to follow through. The two Brody boys are among the group of doofy after school special teeny boppers and end up being the focal point of our new blood lusting great white. In the final action set piece that goes on and on and on for what feels like an eternity, our human scarfing shark manages to kill only two of about a baker’s dozen worth of teenagers. And the only likable teen happens to be among those eaten. It’s a group of teenagers stranded in the middle of the unforgiving ocean on tiny catamaran sail boats with tarp bottoms. Bruce was able to crush The Orca in JAWS, what the fuck is this shark’s issue? There are all these screaming, flailing, dumbass teenagers ripe for the picking and our shark can’t handle it? He manages to eat a helicopter (Oh yes, it does occur, true believers) but can’t rip apart a few flimsy pieces of plastic and tarp bundled together by cheap rope. Man, fuck this shark.

But, I digress, there is a rather nifty kill when a one young man falls over the side of his little dingy and gets pulled through the waves in the clutches of the shark. Also, there a pretty inventive nasty moment when a scuba diver, surprised and terrified by the sudden appearance of the shark, shoots up to the surface and suffers a horrendous case of the bends from his scramble for survival. Its vicious and damn good stuff. A few more of these scenarios would have gone a long way as opposed to extended scenes of teenage prayer groups on stranded sail boats. Where’s Hooper and Quint when you need them? Oh, that’s right, Hooper won and Oscar and Quint got eaten. We’re shit out of luck, Gang.  Also, there’s a nice tip of the hat to the far superior ORCA: The Killer Whale aka: Death Wish for Fish in the form of a dead killer whale which is discovered by two horny teens frolicking among the dunes. How these kids did not smell this dead whale carcass baking in the summer sun a mile away, I will never know.

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Roy Scheider does his best to bring back the charm of the original film and plays Brody honestly, staying true to the character. Portraying the man as someone struggling with PTSD after the deeply traumatic events of the very first film. I’m not going to lie to you, I would have probably been more impressed if there were no shark in JAWS 2 and Brody was just delusional and terrified that something was happening again out in those waters. But, audiences want to see fins gliding through the water and people running out of the ocean, so that concept’s not going to sell any tickets.

Of course, by the end of the film Brody is vindicated by a killer shark actually eating people, dons his super tiny Dad shorts, heads out to find his kids, save their friends and ends up the chef of the Friday evening fish fry as he shoves the towns submerged power cable (Huh?) into the sharks gaping maw. There’s no “Smile you son of a bitch!” awesomeness, but Brody mutters something like “Dinner is served!”, “Come and get it!” or “This is going to be a real SHOCKER, wokka, wokka, wokka!”, but the electrified shark death is kind of fun in the same way watching sparklers are. It’s like sparkler, but coming out of a cheap rubber sharks eyes while black smoke billows out of it’s pie hole. Fun, but not as fun as it was when Brody shot that fucker and blew meaty red chunks through the sunny blue Amity Island sky to the delight of the theater patrons and seagulls alike!

Often times the best way to avoid a shark attack is to simply blow yourself up.

Often times the best way to avoid a shark attack is to simply blow yourself up.

JAWS 2 is pretty bland shit. There are some moments of pure fun, but there are 10 times as many halting trips through dullsville. It’s cool seeing the residents of Amity Island again and seeing a bit more of the town itself, but it’s never as fun or electrifying as that fist trip to Amity. It’s certainly the sequel closest in tone to the original JAWS, but it’s also the least retarded of the lot, which makes it kind of a ho-hum entry. It’s sequel business as usual but it’s never downright goofy and awful enough to be enjoyed for it’s badneess like Jaws 3-D or Jaws: The Revenge. It had potential and a cool enough set up, if they had been more daring and bold with what they had. Perhaps making the film darker and meaner than it’s predecessor, which had no balls to not only kill of pretty teenage girls and innocent children, but the holy grail of audience appalling deaths…a dog.

Hey, at least we learned what to do if a shark starts eating your boat. Just explode yourself! If sure as shit can’t touch you now that you’re a crispy critter. Might as well have explained that in the vast and unknown depths of sucker cinema goers wallets how could we not turn this remarkable film into and tepid franchise with a handful of horrible sequels?

I award JAWS 2 TWO out of FIVE Dumpster Nuggets

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08
Sep
14

RC Rabbit: Devil Girl of the Month, September 2014

Hey Gang! Summer 2014 is breathing it’s last humid breath as Autumn closes in. As a salute to the diminishing summertime and the rising of Fall, I can think of no better, more lovely Devil Girl to ring in our most sacred time of the year here at The Trash Cinema Collective than the seductive, mysterious, captivating, RC Rabbit. Our ravishing September Devil Girl of the Month!

The Primal Root: RB, it is a pleasure and quite the honor to have you grace us with your lovely presence again as Devil Girl of the Month.What was your inspiration for this sexy, bloody, Devil Girl spread?

RC Rabbit: I’m not sure of the first vampire movie I saw but I was fascinated. Dark hair, scary eyes, pale skin, I felt at home with them.

Root: Can you share your fake blood recipe with us?

RC: I wish I could but I was lazy and just used stage blood.

Root: Whose blood do you wish it was?

RC: I need some new followers, and some new blood

Root: With Halloween on the horizon, I was wondering if you could share any costumes you might be working on to celebrate Samhain?

RC: While I don’t have a special costume in the works for Samhain, I will be in nature amongst the trees with a crackling fire.

Root: Sounds like paradise to me. Any other cool stuff you’ve been working on you’d care to share with the class?

RC: Have sewing machine will sew. I am enjoying having a machine again and have been filling my closet to the brim with beautiful frocks.

Root: What song should the viewing audience at home listen to while admiring your bloody and bodacious Devil Girl spread?

RC: I have just the song Riboflavin-Flavored, Non-Carbonated, Polyunsaturated Blood…

Root: PERFECTION! Can you send us off with a favorite Trashy movie quote?

RC: While not from a Movie I happen to be fond of this one from The X-Files “Bad Blood”
Mulder: Historically, cemeteries were thought to be a haven for vampires, as are castles, catacombs and swamps, but unfortunately, you don’t have any of those.

“We used to have swamps, only the EPA made us take to calling ’em “wetlands.” – Sheriff Hartwell

Photography by Kaze Harada

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29
Jun
14

Trash Cinema Nights presents The Burning (1981)

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Who: The Trash Cinema Collective
What: a screening of  1981’s “The Burning”
When: Saturday, July 5th at 10:00pm
Where: Bird’s Aphrodisiac Oyster Shack
Why: Because we love you.

as always…NO COVER!

MATURE CONTENT WARNING: Leave the fruits of your loins at home! Blood shed, full frontal female nudity, um…lots of female nudity and general slasher movie butchery goodness. With garden shears.

Hey Gang! As I am sure you’re well aware with the might of the current humidity situation and temperatures in the mid 90’s, it’s glorious summer time in Florida! What better way to celebrate this warm, moist, sweaty season than with a special Trash Cinema Night screening of one of the meanest, nastiest little summer camp slasher flicks of the 1980’s, 1981’s “The Burning?” Sure, it sounds like a PSA about genital herpes, but it’s one damn fine low budget horror show.

Gratuitous blood, breasts and one nasty disfigured psychopath who looks like his head is made up of a gnawed on wad of Big League Chew. I can think of no better way to continue celebrating our nation’s independence than by wallowing in the complete filth that is the 1980’s American slasher flick.

So come on out, sink your teeth into the best damn burger in Tallahassee, order up a pitcher of your favorite ice cold brew and let’s rot our brains together as we watch the likes of Jason Alexander, Fisher Stevens and Holly Hunter get terrorized by Cropsy, the summer camp legend who got roasted like so many marshmallows during a really badly planned prank and is now transforming teenagers into meat mulch.

We’ll see you Saturday, July 5th at 10pm over at Bird’s aphrodisiac Oyster shack for an evening of utter mayhem you won’t want to miss!

Stay Trashy!
-Root

27
Apr
14

Trash Cinema Nights presents “The Lost Boys” & “From Dusk Till Dawn” double Feature

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DOUBLE FEATURE!
The Lost Boys (1987) and From Dusk till Dawn (1996)
Saturday, May 3rd starting at 8pm
at Bird’s Aphrodisiac Oyster Shack
as always, NO COVER!

Hey Gang, The Primal Root here and I remember a time, not so long ago I might add, when vampires were awesome. Back when they had wonderful bleach blonde mullets, lived on the beach or in bars just over the border into Mexico and danced half nekkid while adorned with a very large snake before ripping some grizzled bikers head off and chucking through the air. Yep, those were the days all right.

WELL THOSE DAYS ARE BACK for one glorious night of vampiric Trash Cinema excellence at Bird’s Aphrodisiac Oyster Shack as The Trash cinema Collective presents The Lost Boys (1987) and From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) back to back for a reminder of the down and dirty carnage this blood suckers are capable of!

The Lost Boys (1987) directed by Joel Schumacher: Sam and Mike (Corey Haim and Jason Patric) just moved to Santa Carla with their Mom and have a fine time adjusting and fitting in to the beach side community. That is, Mike is initiated into a hair metal group of vampires led by a charismatic, Chinese food terrorist, David (Kiefer Sutherland) and Sam ends up getting befriending a couple teenage comic book store owners and part time vampire hunters, The Frog Brothers. It’s a whacky and horrifying time as these two boys learn the meaning of family while skinheads get their scalps savagely ripped off, body builders viciously play the saxophone while clad in purple spandex hot pants, and Corey Haim sings int he bathtub.

From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) directed by Robert Rodriguez: Seth and Richard Gecko (Goerge Clooney & Quentin Tarantino) are violent criminals on the run from Johnny Law. Their goal? Make it to Mexico where they will meet their connection and start a new life for themselves living on the beach, sipping margaritas and swimming with dolphins. However, it’s a long road to Mexico, and the two volunteer a family of three by taking them hostage so they have a decent cover over the border. Once there, they must spend an evening at a cantina known as The Titty-Twister which happens to be run by vampire scum. rag-tag group of criminals, low lives and bible thumpers must band together in order to survive this dark night of slaughter. Who will survive? What will be left of them? Who will pay the tab? Featuring performances from Harvey Keitel, Juliette Lewis, Tom Savini, Fred Williamson, Selma Hayek in a bikini, Danny Trejo and Cheech Marin, John Saxon and Michael Parks!

So come on out and see what happens when two sets of brothers go head to head with some legendary blood suckers! This is a damn fine double feature of incredible cult vampire films you certainly don”t want to miss! See you at Bird’s Aphrodisiac Oyster Shack Saturday, May 3rd for burgers, beer and blood spattered mayhem!

See you there!

Stay Trashy!
-Root

02
Aug
13

The Conjuring (2013): Home Ownership: a Cautionary Tale

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a Primal Root written review

edited by Bootsie Kidd

I’ve always loved a good ghost story. I was raised on the “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” anthology, watched Tobe Hooper’s  “Poltergeist” on a near constant loop, on the weekends talked my Mom into renting copies of  black and white classics like “The House on Haunted Hill” and “The Haunting”, and looked forward to the segments of TV’s Unsolved Mysteries featuring “true tales”  of the poor crackers who crossed paths with nocturnal spirits and ghastly apparitions.  The chills were plentiful, but as you grow up you realize just how cheesy a lot of this stuff can be, and it only really gets down to spooking you once it sinks in on a cerebral level much later… when you’re at home, going down that darkened hallway you’ve walked down countless times before  and your mind suddenly begins wondering what inexplicable, otherworldly presence could be lurking behind each door, just biding its time before it springs out and cause you to shit your pants, lose your grip on sanity, and keel over dead from cardiac arrest.

It’s been a long damn time since I’ve seen a movie about a haunting that has actually frightened me beyond the terror felt over wasting money on a movie that promised chills and delivered yawns and moderate chuckles at the lameness of it all. From “Paranormal Activity” and its endless sequels, “A Haunting in Connecticut”  to James Wans’ own “Dead Silence” and “Insidious”, they all just come across as either lazy and predictable or over the top, cheap student films.  I usually wind up joking with my viewing buddies and waiting for something to happen rather than having my pants scared off of me, a rare occurrence that always leaves me breathless and fellow viewers stunned, as I typically go commando.

Okay, where's the fire place?

Okay, where’s the fire place?

I’m getting side-tracked. Okay, “The Conjuring” begins on an creepy-enough note telling the tale of The Warrens’ encounter with what a group of roommates assume is a possessed doll from Hell going by the name of Annabelle. This thing looks like the aborted, fossilized remains of Bozo the Clown and post-face-tightening Nicole Kidman’s love child. Why in the world would ANY schmo would bring this doll home is beyond me. But hey! you get what you pay for, and the doll begins writing on the walls in blood-red crayon, seeming to running around the place on her own (although, unlike your favorite Good Guy and mine, we never get to see her scurry), leaving little love notes of “Miss me?” around the house to be found by the horrified occupants, and banging on doors so loudly your testicles would probably rise into your throat with abject terror.  Anyhoo, we never see these three moron roomies, again, and it’s on to establishing Ed and Lorriane Warren,  the real life team of hardcore paranormal investigators (portrayed by Patrick Wilson and the unfathomably lovely Vera Farmiga) just now decided their most terrifying tale of a supernatural encounter is ready for public consumption.  Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, they present to us, “The Conjuring.”  Ed and Lorraine are leading a pretty action-packed life, as they traverse the country ghostbusting, debunking red herrings as rusty pipes, and giving lectures while leaving their little daughter at home… with an entire stock of possessed and evil artifacts from their many ghost hunting expeditions. But don’t worry! These artifacts are locked behind a door, because nothing keeps the power of evil at bay like a bolted door… It also becomes apparent that Lorraine has in the not-too-distant past encountered something during one of their investigations that has shaken her to her very core. Something that her ever-loving husband, Ed, concerned about bringing his highly sensitive telepathic wife into the ghost hunting fold again.

I get this reaction frequently when women look into my trousers.

I get this reaction frequently when women look into my trousers.

To be honest, the story of ‘The Conjuring” is a pretty well-worn tale. A couple and their herd of children (in this instance, all little women) decide to relocate to a beautiful, rural fixer-upper that they purchased for a steal, in the bygone days before full-disclosure was a legal necessity and this particular home’s blood-spattered, demonic, psycho-bitch history was kind of left out of conversation.  The family is loving, always smiling, and ready to play games at the drop of a dime. It might sound like a trite Hallmark card, but as a viewer, I couldn’t help but genuinely like this family. Sweet people brought to life by some very talented folks; Lila Taylor as Carolyn, the sweet, southern, ice tea Mother of the clan, and Ron Livingston as Roger (yes, of Office Space fame) as the hard-working, average dope Dad.  On their first night in their new home they experience a few minor disturbances, many of which we might encounter in our own home from time to time, but, ultimately, nothing too serious occurs. Besides finding a boarded-up, dusty, creepy old basement under the stairs. Everyone is super happy about the discovery (YAY! MORE SQUARE FOOTAGE!) but things very quickly go to Hell as whatever was tucked down in the basement is now roaming around the house offing the family pooch and playing chilling games with every member of the family. Also, a Burtonesque, antique music box happens to present itself right next to an ancient, gnarly oak tree in the back yard.  One of the daughters adopts it, and (que Amityville horror score) unleashes her new imaginary best friend! Her buddy can only be glimpsed in the mirror of the music box once the music within finishes playing. It’s a story we’ve heard and seen countless times before, but to my own shock and amazement, filmmaker James Wan (“Insidious”, “Dead Silence”, “Saw”) uses a slow, old school pace and a nice, subtle touch to really let the suspense and dread sink into the viewer.  I was genuinely impressed that James Wan has grown up so much as a director. Make a few more films as intensively creepy as “The Conjuring”, and I might just become a fan!

This would make a damn fine place to hide my porn!

This would make a damn fine place to hide my porn from my wife and our half a dozen daughters!

Some deeply disturbing incidences start to occur in their new  home. The utmost of which involves one of the young daughters seeing something in the darkness behind her bedroom door which, really, might be one of the most horrifying and suspenseful sequences I’ve experienced in a movie theater in years (not a drop of blood spilt, no score, all acting and cinematography). Finally, Carolyn heads to a community college where The Warrens are lecturing, and literally begs them to come check out their own private House on Haunted Hill. The Warrens, initially skeptic, and not-a-little ghost-worn grudgingly but compassionately agree to check it out.  Dressed in their Mod Squad 1971 ensembles, and looking quite fetchingly groovy, the two step into the house and instantly know this place is a deadly death trap of death.  Lorraine has visions, Ed gets nervous, and the once the two investigate the history of the house, whose past tenants were all possessed child murdering evil-doers all in the wake of the original tenant, a witch who, to get in good with The Dark One, sacrificed babies to Satan, and ended up hanging herself from said gnarly oak tree in the backyard… Like I said days pre-total disclosure realtor ethics.

Of course, The Warrens take the case, and decide to rescue the family and exorcise the house of whatever evil is present there.

You smell something?

You smell something?

“The Conjuring” is really the best of both worlds as far a supernatural horror flick is concerned. The first half is expertly crafted horror in which the audience is left holding on to the edge of their seat, completely at the mercy of the increasingly crafty James Wan. The story he is unfolding, waiting for the beast to finally show itself.  And, much to my delight, Wan keeps us guessing and waiting for most of ‘The Conjuring”‘s run time, allowing it to effectively chill our bones and build a truly sinister house of cards around us.  Then, once the other shoe drops, we find ourselves in the eye of an ever-mounting storm of blood, horror, and chaos that, in a lesser film, would probably come off as disenchantingly goofy. Here, however, we have grown to appreciate every one of our central characters so that, once the proverbial ghost shit hits the fan, our pulse rises and we are actually fearful for our new kin. Keeping in mind that the haunted house genre relies heavily on people being too lame-brained to get out of the house the second disturbing shit starts befalling everyone in the family, but this is coming from a guy (and an audience) raised on horror and its tropes. A family in 1971, plagued by this steadily-rising level of creepy encounters might just try and explain things away until things got so bad they have to reach out for help. Plus, a family this size with only one working parent and all their money invested in this house on the edge of Hell hardly has the kind of money to be spending on stays at the local Motel 6.  I guess in most horror films you have to suspend your disbelief, but “The Conjuring” is such a goddamn great spookshow you won’t waste your time questioning such things as little girls are claiming to see creatures in the darkness and the simple clapping of hands send chills down your spine.

“The Conjuring” is by far and away the best horror flick I’ve seen in the theater so far in 2013. It plays it cool, takes its time, and before you know it, you’re sitting in your theater seat, heart thumping in your chest, awaiting the next horror show to befall this poor family and the heroic Warrens.  After the film was over, I found myself sitting with Bootsie Kidd totally worn out, as if stepping off a roller coaster. Both of us, catching our breath and totally awestruck by what we’d just seen. We chatted through the end credits which featured the effectively eerie score by Joseph Bishara, which rivals Lalo Schifrin’s timelessly nerve jangling score to “The Amityville Horror.” And then…we had to go home, where the evens I had seen on screen just minute prior suddenly weighed pretty heavily on my imagination. “The Conjuring” stayed with me long after I left the theater and if that’s not the mark of an effective horror film, I’m not sure what is.

Of course, this is the flick we see just as we begin looking to purchase a home together. Good timing! Jeez…

“The Conjuring” is a smartly executed , old school ghost story excellently told and well worth checking out. Hopfully it will be available to own once Halloween rolls around. 😉 I’m awarding this puppy FIVE out of FIVE Dumpster Nuggets. This one is a keeper!

Till next time,

Check your home’s history before moving in and Stay Trashy!

-Root




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