I could've done without the porn

Firstly, I asked a friend to get me the German DVD of Hammer Horror's The Vampire Lovers. My reason? Well, there's a rather nifty commentary I wish to listen to, which isn't on my current edition. It sucks -- of course, I believe in equal DVD extras for everybody. Especially if it's something rather interesting in relation to the original text . . .

This morning however, when I thought my DVD had arrived and ripped off the packaging, I was greeted with this:

What the fuck!?

That's right. No, it's not Ingrid Pitt sauntering around in a nightie, sadly. It's just porn. I mean, I guess it's a lovely surprise an' all, but it wasn't what I was in the mood for. . . Emm . . . I dunno, I guess I can't use it for a potential review. Can I? Maybe?

Le sigh. Well, I guess it's easy to get the two titles confused. They both have the words "vampire" and "lover(s)" in the title. Okay, it's easy to get confused if you're my mate Chris. Sorry, Chris, next time I'll shop online with you. We'll get something nice and simple; a film that doesn't have a similar-sounding porno equivalent. Unless you did it on purpose, you sly bastard.

Since today was my "Lazy Day", (man, I don't get enough of those) I played some Guitar Hero, did some shopping and watched Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. I love that film so much, even if it's been a while since I'd last seen it. I mean, it's one of those films I'd ask my Grandmother about (she's a cool ol' lady, who loves the classic horror films, and rather knowledgeable herself), and she'd describe everything in detail. In short, she fed my early horror cravings. Thanks, Gran. Hopefully, I'll write a review of The Birds soon.

Also, how fuckin' cool is Repo! The Genetic Opera? Yes, it's bad, but I've only heard of this horror/sci-fi/musical hybrid recently. I'm already hooked on numerous songs, and have since purchased the soundtrack from iTunes. Goodness knows when I'll actually be granted the opportunity to watch this fabulous little film. Oh, and how I love Anthony Head. Yes, I'll admit it, I had a little crush when he was Giles in Buffy. Uhuh, Librarians can be sexy too. Well, I think so.

Em. Anyway, aside from Librarians and horror movies, I do actually love musicals, particularly if they're blended with another genre -- The Rocky Horror Picture Show being a prime example. Oh, how I love that film so much -- it's utterly ridiculous that I haven't seen it on stage yet. I'd totally dress up, and encourage everyone else to do like wise. And no, I'm not exactly stoked about the planned MTV Rocky Horror remake, but I'll no doubt watch it, thus contradicting myself. But, I digress. Here's my favourite song from the up-coming Repo! A Genetic Opera, Zydrate Anatomy;

For further interesting details, I encourage you to take a gander at the wonderful (and 100% official!) Repo! Website. Their Myspace is equal parts wonderful. So go and show your support! Hopefully, the film can ensure a wider run at cinemas. If not, well, I'll go for Plan B; hire a fuckin' projector and rent out my town hall. Okay, so I'm not entirely sure if we even have a town hall here, but screw it, I'll find somewhere! Heck, I'll ship out all the excess furniture, and use my sitting room if need be. It'll be cool.

McTerminator Salvation

Yes, I think McG is an absolute stinker of a Director. But, I'm going to keep an open mind with the release of Terminator Salvation. Surely to God, it can't be worse than Rise of the Machines?

Well, I am diggin' the poster art. It looks waaaay better than it's predecessor;

Which ain't difficult. It looks like Schwarzenegger and Loken couldn't be arsed getting their photos taken, and somebody got blindingly drunk, then thought it would be pretty nifty to slap the CGI counterparts on the poster instead. No problem. Except it sucks.

I still prefer the poster for the Terminator, even if it does look like Arnold's wandered into an 80s disco.

Tuesday Trailer of the Week

Street Trash (1987)

Are you tired of the same ol' routine? Bustin yer hump and gettin' nowhere? Drop out an' join the ranks of the few . . .

Okay, so ignore the first minute of this weeks trailer -- Street Trash isn't some stoner comedy. Yeah, sure, it is funny, but it's so much more than a mere comedy/horror. The effects are truly gross (perhaps reminiscent of early Troma), and maybe a wee bit offensive. But it's all done in the name of fun. Street Trash may be cheesy, shoddy -- actually the latter part of it's title is accurate, but it's very much entertaining, and worth tracking down.

Movie Review: Scar 3D

Movie Review: Scar 3D

Dir. Jed Weintrob

Our local cinema was pretty busy for this one, which is surprising. Scar 3D (2007) hasn't been given much publicity in this neck of the woods, and any review which I have read, has been pocketed away in the corner, its abysmal score highlighted more so than the meagre couple of lines devoted to it. But, heck, it is in 3D. And like myself, that's probably why so many people turned up. That's right, tap "3D" on the end of a title, and we'll turn up in droves.

Hailed as a 3D event, Scar 3D claims to be the first live action feature to be entirely shot in HD 3D. But don't be fooled by this simple boast; it wastes its gimmick, and the only entertaining scene is a striptease. That's right: the only memorable thing about this film is a pair of 3D jugs. And for the record, that's really sad.

On one hand, I really wanted to like this film: it's my first 3D horror film experience, and I've always been secretly jealous of those able to see Friday the 13th Part III 3D (1982), Parasite (1982) and even Jaws 3-D (1983) at the cinema. Sure, 3D films have been making a comeback, but most of them have been family friendly, adventure-filled pap. I want blood an' guts. I'm still holding out for Final Destination 4 to be released next year, and I'm bloody hoping it doesn't disappoint. Please, I can't endure another Scar 3D. I also love Angela Bettis (no, she doesn't annoy me at all), and could happily write about her contribution to the horror genre for days. Her role as the title-character in Lucky McKee's May (2002) horrified and moved me simultaneously, and as a result, won me over as a fan. But, on the other hand Scar 3D is just atrocious and no, not in the confusing "so bad its good" category, just plain bad. In terms of torture horror, this is the runt of the litter. While other torture horrors are running around yelping, and tearing shit to shreds, this one's still sprawled on it's ass, licking itself in inappropriate places. Don't ask me how you can sprawl on your ass, I'm just making a point.

Angela Bettis plays Joan Burrows, a thirtysomething returning to her hometown for her niece, Olympia's high school graduation. Sixteen years ago, however, Joan and her best friend were kidnapped by Bishop, the town undertaker who tortured them, playing a bizarre type of Sophie's Choice -- he'd stop cutting Joan, if she told him to kill her friend. Joan's pal died, and Joan escaped, killing Bishop in the process. In the present day, a copycat killer is offing the local teenagers, and with Olympia looking like a potential victim, it's up to Auntie Joan to save the day.

The action is beefed-up with several laborious flashbacks to Joan's ordeal with Bishop, showcasing how she earned the long scar flicked under her chin. Although we know what's going to unravel, it's here the acting is at its best and you truly believe that the girls are best friends, and terrified for each others survival. It's uncomfortable viewing. Saying this, Scar has some of the worst acting I've ever seen in a mainstream film. It really is cringe-worthy, especially when coupled with Zack Ford's absolutely dire script. Now, I'm certain the shock absorped most of my memory, but I think one exchange went something like this:

Olympia: "My Mom passed away sometime ago . . ."
Paul: "Oh. I'm sorry. So, did you remember your iPod?"
Yeah, I sure did, you insensitive bastard. That's what I'd say, but Olympia just acts all mushy. And stupid.

As with most torture horror, the blood-letting is pretty much unrelenting, and consequently, not much screen time is given for plot or even character development. It leaves behind a boring, clichéd affair, and the 3D element is pretty much redundant. A completely wasted effort.

I love Threadless

I love Threadless.

And Threadless loves horror.

Quite a wonderful combination, especially for me, the ever-geeky horror fan. Yes, I love my film-themed t-shirts (the more geeky/obscure, the better). But, they're normally designed for dudes, so they end up draped around my knees . . . well, aside from the ones which read "Vampire Bitch" and "Fucking Classy". Yes, I am a fucking classy vampire bitch. And I also make my Mother proud.

Rue Morgue, the leading publication for horror entertainment, has teamed up with Threadless.com for a design challenge. The concept is my favourite and yours: horror. That's right, so it'll be pretty darn easy. Yes, so easy that I won't be taking part. If you've got a passion for creating, and a groovy idea for a horror t-shirt, why not submit your idea? Your horrific design could win you a bunch of cool stuff like:

• Money
• Horror memorabilia
• A feature in Rue Morgue
• A "limited edition skate deck from Alkaline Trio"
• A 70s vintage Fender bass guitar
• And probably loads more of em . . . exciting stuffs!

But that all depends, can you topple this mighty T'?

I fuckin' hope so. The closing date is December the 1st, folks.

Urgh . . .

So . . .

I live in a tiny, teensy-weensy little town in the middle of Scotland. Everything closes at like, 10.00ish, aside from a few bars (and we know I get ID’d for everything). Therefore it is typically the bore. And the weather is also crap: it's cold, it's dark and it's windy -- not suitable for a girl with gorgeous locks of hair such as I. Oh, no! But my night isn't all doom and gloom: I've had to move about like a truck-load of furniture (I have biceps of steal), and I've uncovered some old VHS and a stack of DVDs which I'd forgotten about . . . Bad me. But good in the sense that I now have a bunch of awesome crap to watch! I mean, Hostel Part II . . . I think that one was okay, wasn't it? Anyway, I know it's so 2007, but I plan on writing something regarding the "Torture Porn" subgenre pretty soon. Even though I'm not a particular fan: my interest stems from the exploitation flicks of the 70s and early 80s (which I am a fan of -- well, the history at the very least), and torture porn seems to regurgitate some of those ideas/conventions, if pushing the barrier even more so.

Films that I have watched recently are: The Wicker Man (1973) and Scar 3D (2007). One was bloody wonderful, and one was . . . well, rather shite. Can you guess which one, hmmm? I hope you said The Wicker Man was bloody wonderful 'cause then you'd be right. That reminds me, I was flicking through a DVD magazine, and The Wicker Man was listed as one of the "All-time Greatest Horror DVDs" or something, and it highlighted Britt Ekland's dance as one of the stand-out scenes. And if you want to know why -- or more importantly, want to check out a classic horror movie, then go get The Wicker Man. That's right! Get it right now! Just remember it's the 1973 version, not that 2006 pap with Nicholas Cage . . . shudder.

I don't need an excuse . . .

Movie Review: April Fool's Day (1986)

April Fool's Day (1986)

Clara: “Have a nice party.”

Muffy: “Nice? It's gotta be better than nice. It's gotta be bloody unforgettable!”

April Fool's Day is a rarity in the horror field. On one hand, it's an 80s slasher, envisioned by the likes of Fred Walton, the guy who previously directed When a Stranger Calls (1979) and Frank Mancuso Jr, the producer of Friday the 13th Part II, III, The Final Chapter and A New Beginning (1982, 1983, 1984, 1985). So, we should know what we're letting ourselves in for, right?

Rather, I was pleasantly surprised when I'd ejected the DVD, and held it aloft with a twinkle in my eye, and a dopey grin on my face. You see, April Fool's Day is so much more than a standard 80s slash-fest. Sure, it revolves the narrative around a holiday, much like Halloween (1978), Christmas Evil (1980) and My Bloody Valentine (1981). But, and here lies a MASSIVE SPOILER: the rarity lies in the body count, which is a big-fat zero. Rather than feeling duped, and wanting to hurl my remote control at the TV, I instead wanted to hug the DVD case, and perhaps caress the disk a little bit. It's a crafty little film, which plays with the conventions of the slasher film, and as a result -- its audiences expectations. I know many people felt rather cheated when they viewed the ending (and oh, what an ending), but I'm firmly placed in the "Love" category.

The story is standard slash fare: A group of college friends are invited to the island estate of Muffy St. John (Deborah Foreman) for the weekend. Tragedy soon occurs on their journey (yes, they haven't even made their destination yet . . .) when a prank goes wrong and Buck is seriously hurt in a ferry accident.

The group watch in shock as he zooms off to the mainland, clutching his mangled face. But that's nothing copious alcohol can't solve as the friends party their troubles away. As they sit at dinner, chairs with bendy legs, drippy cups and a variety of other hilarious gags have been installed, courtesy of Muffy. The good mood begins to dissipate however, when Muffy's cousin Skip (Griffin O'Neal) and token motor-mouth Arch (Thomas F. Wilson) disappear -- of course, it could all be an elaborate prank, couldn't it? But pretty soon, Kitt (Amy Steele) has spotted a blood-splattered corpse drifting under the docks, and Nikki has fallen into a well overrun by the freshly strewn bodies of their friends. Of course, Muffy herself is also acting rather strangely: her quirky, innocent personality has shifted, and she's acting oddly, daydreaming about nothing and saying uncomfortable shit like:

Muffy: "Sometimes with the tides . . . it takes somebody all night to get here from the mainland. And even then sometimes . . . they don't make it."

It's now a case of whodunit, with the gnarled finger of suspicion pointing at the unfortunately-named Muffy. It doesn't put the friends at ease when they call the police, and they're told to "Stay away from Muffy". As the "body count" rises, and the climax draws closer, it's up to Kitt and her boyfriend, Rob (Ken Olandt) to piece together Muffy's murky past, including a twist that'll make you re-think the entire film.

Given the twist-ending, the film rises above conventional slasher films, providing something fresh and original, even if not entirely satisfying for some horror-fans. The performances by the young cast are certainly above-average, especially for such a modest budget -- Amy Steele once again makes a great protagonist, and Deborah Foreman is in turns sweet and creepy as Muffy/Buffy. The characters could have easily fallen into the stereotypes of standard horror films. Sure, there's the presence of the jock, the shy girl, the geek and the sex-kitten (of course, Deborah Goodrich embodies Nikki with enough energy and feist, adding more layers to the archetype than many of her predecessors).

Tuesday Trailer of the Week!

The Hills Have Eyes (1977)

I have a soft spot for Wes Craven's earlier work: The Last House on the Left (1972), The Hills Have Eyes (1977), A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984). Heck, I even enjoyed Deadly Friend (1986) (aside from that pretty shiteous ending. Shudder). But, The Hills Have Eyes is one of my favourites: I love the ever-present theme of normal, civilised folks becoming brutal savages in the name of survival. Love it. It's possibly why I share an interest in the nature of the Final Girl. In short, Wes Craven may put his characters through hell, but he still cares for them. He still wants them to succeed (well, Last House aside . . .)

Looking through my collection, I forgot how Goddamn repetitive these old horror trailers were -- did the majority of folk living in the 70s suffer from memory loss/the inability to read? 'Cause, jeeze-oh, I think we know the film is called "The Hills Have Eyes". Bloody hell, we've only heard it half a dozen times.

PS: Watch out for the dodgy inbred cannibal wearing a great big fuckin' 70s wig! Fun!

National Novel Writing Month/ Happy Halloween!

Okay, so it transpires that November is National Novel Writing Month. And I'd never even heard of this glorious Internet-event before. Sure, I've heard of tosh like "Three Girls and a Cup" (Yes, no hyperlinkage. I may be a bore, but I'm keeping it clean and relatively shit free), and a bunch of other stuff. But no NNWM.

So, this year, I'm gonna attempt it. Yeah, I've got a gazillion other things I should be working on, but I really, really want to do this, so it's okay.

The goal is to write a 175 page novel (50, 000 words roughly), finishing before midnight on November 30th. The site also praises the crap you write -- and with a first draft, rest assured, you shall write crap. By the bucketful. But, as I previously stated, the crap is praised, and you get to join hands with other NNWM-ers in unity, knowing you've persevered. You also get a groovy certificate. Thus you need no other incentive. So, do it! Be my NNWM pal!

Also, hope everyone had a nice Halloween! Here's a couple of pictures from my second night dressed up as some skanky vamp (I'm the gimp on the right). Had an awesome night. First night we went on some ghost tour up near our local canal (that seems to be where our history is located . . . or something), and I had to walk around the woods drunk, with my white dressed tucked into my knee-high boots. Otherwise I'd be tripping around the joint. Not pretty or ladylike.

My vampire teeth look crappish here, but they were actually VERY cool. And sturdy. I know because I once bit Chris with them on -- he totally insisted, and I was like; "No . . . no! Okay!" Also, you can't see my tattoos/scratch marks, but they were also cool. My friend (to the left) was dressed as Sweeny Todd, but most folk thought he was a Butler. On account of this, I clicked my fingers and told him to get me a nice virgin. He wasn't impressed.