Yes, I did get got for driving 85 mph on a 70 mph freeway on the high desert highway between Los Angeles and Las Vegas. I was guilty. The several SUVs and two Mercedes that had swiftly passed me just a minute or two before I was pulled over by the California Highway Patrol, had nothing to do with it. It was just my tough luck that his radar got me, rather than them.
So I spent a day last week in online traffic school, where I didn't learn a whole lot that I didn't already know. One thing, however, became quite clear. The single major road hazard, the one thing that is most distracting, dangerous, even deadly, is children. Nary a screen went by that didn't include some sort of caution about kids. They're noisy and disruptive in the car and unpredictable, quirky, quick and at times suicidal on the streets.
Sure, booze seems to be implicated in more traffic accidents than any other single factor, but near as I could tell from traffic school, children are running a close second.
I always knew they were trying to kill us. Gang way for the new generation. Biology is merciless and it is now evidently using technology to do its dirty work.
This is a matter of some immediate concern as I am once more about to hit the road. This morning I am off to Arizona, en route to Denver for Left Coast Crime. I'll stop for a night in Phoenix where my cousin Robert and I intend to find some minor trouble to get into. (It's the Sadie Hawkins Day Dance at The Rhythm Room. That could be fun.) Then down to Tucson to take in some spring training baseball with my father. (I'm trying to decide if I should take my mitt, but I never can find anyone to play catch, much less real baseball, with these days.) Then it's a drive through New Mexico, fueled by as many meals involving green chilies as I can squeeze into it.
Then, finally, Denver. I'll be there for four days, which is three days longer than I've spent there before. I enjoyed Left Coast Crime in Seattle last year, we'll see how it shakes out this year. I'm on a panel on Friday about sex and violence, so that can't be too bad.
And finally, speaking of sex and violence, I sure as hell want this stupid primary season to be over. When is someone going to wise up and pass a law restricting presidential campaigns to no more than four months, or something like that? The stupidity just keeps growing. Even if you start out sort of kind of liking a candidate, by the time they've finished - or even just got halfway through - pandering to voters and special interests, you've learned to loathe them. No wonder it's always a matter of voting for the lesser of two evils. The whole process tears down anything or anybody who goes into it with good, honest, intelligent intentions. (Although I must admit to cynical doubts that anyone ever does go into politics with "good, honest, intelligent intentions.")
Oh yeah, one more thing, I forgot:
MyPOD
I have gone modern. The other day, looking over the cabinet from which spilled my collection of CDs, I decided I was tired of them. Tired of trying to find ones that had been put back into the wrong case whenever a certain friend comes over and plays music, tired of shuffling through them to find what I want, tired of messing around with them, of the space they took up. So I bought a big (in capacity) small (in size) external hard drive and downloaded all 638 of them onto it. I then boxed them up, took them to Amoeba on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood and sold them for a mere fraction of what they had cost me over the years, but still, more than enough for my purposes. With that money I bought a new 160 GB IPod Classic and a Bose stereo thingy to plug it into and an adapter for my car and still had money left over and still have all my music - which I downloaded into the IPod from the hard drive. Only now, rather than spilling out of a cabinet in my house, my entire CD collection fits in my pocket. I'm taking it with me to Denver. I wonder how long I can impose my collection of Cambodian cassette tapes (recorded onto CDs) on my cousin during the drive?
Friday, February 29, 2008
1984 and all that.
Thought I'd gone back in time this morning after hearing the news that big chinned Tory MP Julian Brazier announced that 'Explicit and extreme video games and films are fueling a tide of violence in Britain' and that MPs should have more of a say over appointments to the board of British Board of Film Classification and its guidelines.
Power mad Mr Brazier wants MPs to be able to trigger an appeal against BBFC decisions to restore cut footage or lower a classification of film and during a recent Commons debate, he cited the example of the previously banned SS Experiment Camp (again, what year is this Julian?) - which was re-examined by the BBFC and released in 2005.
"The film shows in voyeuristic detail women being tortured to death by SS camp guards," he said, obviously assuming that it was a documentary and not as we all know a badly made Italian exploitation epic from 1976.
On the subject of the French 'arthouse' classic Irreversible, he added "If this is not glamorising rape then it is difficult to imagine what would be."
He then told MPs, whilst foaming at the mouth and stamping his fist on his desk like the jumped up little Hitler he is that: "The growth in violent offences is linked to the growing availability in the media of extremely violent and explicitly sexual material."
Obviously he has no evidence to back this up but thought it sounded good.
Unsurprisingly he was backed by tragedy jumping Labour MP Keith Vaz, who represents a seat in Leicester where the mother of 14-year-old murder victim publicly attributed his death to his killer's 'obsession' with the Manhunt video game - although the trial judge (and police) did not confirm her view, blaming robbery.
Vaz is particularly concerned about video games (particularly if they can get him column inches and re-elected), arguing they were different from films because they are "interactive".
"When they plan with these things they are able to interact, they can shoot people, they can kill people, they can rape women and that's what is so wrong about the situation we have at the moment."
As we all know, you can't actually 'kill' people in games because it's not real.
Luckily the comedy genius of John Whittingdale, chairman of the Commons culture, media and sport select committee is here to raise a giggle.
He said he had been 'lent' a copy of SS Experiment Camp (right, like it's not his own) but dismissed it as a "truly dreadful film".
He explained: "It is what is called Italian Schlock (is it? is it really? or are you just making words up now to look cool and hip you sad misguided man) and many people will find it offensive because of the subject matter, because it involves Nazis and extermination camps".
Do you think he figured that out from the title?
I have to say there is not a single scene in that film that I could argue should be banned. "Actually the scenes of so-called torture and the scenes of sex are mild compared to anything you can go and see today in the Odeon down the road."
What? anything? even in kids films? and Rambo? even tho' the Odeon aren't showing it? Generalization? Never!
However, he did say he was concerned about big budget "torture porn" films like the Saw and Hostel series of films, which he said should have been cut "more than they were" even tho' he admitted he hadn't seen them.
Mr Brazier's bill has cross-party support but would need the government's backing to become law.
Let's pray to God he gets hit by a bus before then.
Brazier: looks like a pervert.
Power mad Mr Brazier wants MPs to be able to trigger an appeal against BBFC decisions to restore cut footage or lower a classification of film and during a recent Commons debate, he cited the example of the previously banned SS Experiment Camp (again, what year is this Julian?) - which was re-examined by the BBFC and released in 2005.
"The film shows in voyeuristic detail women being tortured to death by SS camp guards," he said, obviously assuming that it was a documentary and not as we all know a badly made Italian exploitation epic from 1976.
On the subject of the French 'arthouse' classic Irreversible, he added "If this is not glamorising rape then it is difficult to imagine what would be."
He then told MPs, whilst foaming at the mouth and stamping his fist on his desk like the jumped up little Hitler he is that: "The growth in violent offences is linked to the growing availability in the media of extremely violent and explicitly sexual material."
Obviously he has no evidence to back this up but thought it sounded good.
Vaz: Ambulance chasing vulture.
Unsurprisingly he was backed by tragedy jumping Labour MP Keith Vaz, who represents a seat in Leicester where the mother of 14-year-old murder victim publicly attributed his death to his killer's 'obsession' with the Manhunt video game - although the trial judge (and police) did not confirm her view, blaming robbery.
Vaz is particularly concerned about video games (particularly if they can get him column inches and re-elected), arguing they were different from films because they are "interactive".
"When they plan with these things they are able to interact, they can shoot people, they can kill people, they can rape women and that's what is so wrong about the situation we have at the moment."
As we all know, you can't actually 'kill' people in games because it's not real.
A fake death scene from a film: not real.
Luckily the comedy genius of John Whittingdale, chairman of the Commons culture, media and sport select committee is here to raise a giggle.
He said he had been 'lent' a copy of SS Experiment Camp (right, like it's not his own) but dismissed it as a "truly dreadful film".
He explained: "It is what is called Italian Schlock (is it? is it really? or are you just making words up now to look cool and hip you sad misguided man) and many people will find it offensive because of the subject matter, because it involves Nazis and extermination camps".
Do you think he figured that out from the title?
I have to say there is not a single scene in that film that I could argue should be banned. "Actually the scenes of so-called torture and the scenes of sex are mild compared to anything you can go and see today in the Odeon down the road."
What? anything? even in kids films? and Rambo? even tho' the Odeon aren't showing it? Generalization? Never!
However, he did say he was concerned about big budget "torture porn" films like the Saw and Hostel series of films, which he said should have been cut "more than they were" even tho' he admitted he hadn't seen them.
Mr Brazier's bill has cross-party support but would need the government's backing to become law.
Let's pray to God he gets hit by a bus before then.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
a few new additions...
...to the creaking Unwell shelves.....Yup it's true, I do judge a film by it's cover.
Scarily there are more to come...
Monday, February 25, 2008
shoot the dead.
Diary Of The Dead (2007)
Dir: George A Romero.
Cast: Shawn Roberts, Joshua Close, Michelle Morgan, Joe Dinicol, Phillip Riccio, Scott Wentworth, Megan Park, Chris Violette, Amy Ciupak Lalonde and Tatiana Maslany.
After the wilderness years that covered most of the 90's and the first half of the noughties it seemed that genre god Romero would have trouble getting even his holiday snaps developed at the local chemist let alone a film deal (2000's Bruiser is still unreleased in the States and most of Europe). So it was with some surprise (and much excitement) when it was announced that he would begin work on a big budget (for him) continuation of his 'Dead Saga', Land Of The Dead for Universal Pictures and, although the movie was only a moderate hit Stateside (and split Romero fandom; some feeling it was a 'stopgap' movie somehow compromised by the studio system) it seemed, if nothing else to rekindle Romero's creative edge, drive and love for the genre he single handedly created 40 years ago.
Personally I find it way too hard to be critical of 'Land' and whilst I admit it never reaches the heights of Dawn of The Dead or Day of The Dead it does feature some uniquely Romero moments and it has to be said, an 'adequate' Romero movie still stands head and shoulders over most horror movies being churned out of Hollywood today (and did something to remove the taste of the cinematic stillbirth that was Zac Snyders Dawn remake).
So what of this latest chapter in the masters 'Dead Saga'?
Well, if someone had of said to me that at the age of 67, Romero would be running around in the cold Canadian wilderness, armed only with a hand held camera, coffee and fags making a low budget return visit to the original night it all started to give us a new slant on the zombie uprising I'd have thought they'd gone mad (and would have at least emailed Georges missis to check he hadn't been drinking) but bloody hell, the old fella has still got it.
Although sold as a 'stand alone' movie, Diary is still as much a part of Romero's ongoing vision of the zombie uprising as it's predecessors, taking as it does the premise and ideas forged in Night of The Living Dead mixed with his patented blend of social satire, real world interpersonal politics and heady violence.
Add to this a critical view of how the media can shape, inform and eventually alter our perspective of shared events as well as posing the question of can any reportage be truly unbiased.
Romero's ongoing fascination with the breakdown of society and the media's handling of such an event is given a unique spin by the way that today any information, no matter how trivial can be so instantly disseminated to the entire world via the internet, a far cry from the ramshackle news reports of Dawn of The Dead but eerily similar to the 'If it's not on TV it's not really happening' attitude of the original Night and, by making the films main protagonist the camera lens- we see only what it sees -Romero makes us a complicit part of the unfolding story.
The (mostly) unknown cast is uniformly fantastic and a return to the 'real people in unreal situations' of Romero's earlier works. Michelle Morgan excels as Debra, torn between dealing with her boyfriends overwhelming obsession to complete his documentary and her own over-riding need to be with her family whilst Scott Wentworth's film professor is a deadpan joy to watch. But it has to be said tho' that no matter how great this little ensemble cast is, the true star of the movie (and possibly the whole saga) has to be Samuel the Old Amish man....NECA release an action figure of this guy now!
What else can I say? Diary of The Dead is the cleverest, scariest and downright entertaining horror movie to come out of America (or Canada) since Romero's own Day of The Dead in 1985. And it truly has something for everyone.
If you don't go see this (or more importantly don't like it) then there is really no hope for you.
Utter perfection on celluloid.
Dir: George A Romero.
Cast: Shawn Roberts, Joshua Close, Michelle Morgan, Joe Dinicol, Phillip Riccio, Scott Wentworth, Megan Park, Chris Violette, Amy Ciupak Lalonde and Tatiana Maslany.
"For you, if it's not on film it never happened."
Busy filming a student horror movie in the woods, wannabe documentary maker Jason Creed (Close) and his crew are surprised to here a news report stating that the bodies of the recently dead are returning to life and attacking the living.
Not too surprisingly the group of film makers are kinda freak out by these turn of events, Ridley rich-boy (Riccio) is the first to jump ship, inviting the (understandably) freaked out band to hide out at his families fortified mansion before speeding off with the toothy Francine (Park) in tow.Jason decides to head back to the college to get his girlfriend Debra (Morgan) before heading cross country in a beat up Winnebago alongside his crew - brooding Tony (Roberts), spec-head Eliot (Dinicol), Texan tottie Tracy (Lalonde), her hunky beau Gordo, jittery wallflower Mary (Maslany) and the permanently pissed lecturer Maxwell (Wentworth) - under the auspice of heading home, documenting the journey (pretentiously titled The Death of Death) along the way.
After the wilderness years that covered most of the 90's and the first half of the noughties it seemed that genre god Romero would have trouble getting even his holiday snaps developed at the local chemist let alone a film deal (2000's Bruiser is still unreleased in the States and most of Europe). So it was with some surprise (and much excitement) when it was announced that he would begin work on a big budget (for him) continuation of his 'Dead Saga', Land Of The Dead for Universal Pictures and, although the movie was only a moderate hit Stateside (and split Romero fandom; some feeling it was a 'stopgap' movie somehow compromised by the studio system) it seemed, if nothing else to rekindle Romero's creative edge, drive and love for the genre he single handedly created 40 years ago.
"Snyder yer gettin' it!": The big binned
'un on the set of Land.
'un on the set of Land.
Personally I find it way too hard to be critical of 'Land' and whilst I admit it never reaches the heights of Dawn of The Dead or Day of The Dead it does feature some uniquely Romero moments and it has to be said, an 'adequate' Romero movie still stands head and shoulders over most horror movies being churned out of Hollywood today (and did something to remove the taste of the cinematic stillbirth that was Zac Snyders Dawn remake).
So what of this latest chapter in the masters 'Dead Saga'?
Well, if someone had of said to me that at the age of 67, Romero would be running around in the cold Canadian wilderness, armed only with a hand held camera, coffee and fags making a low budget return visit to the original night it all started to give us a new slant on the zombie uprising I'd have thought they'd gone mad (and would have at least emailed Georges missis to check he hadn't been drinking) but bloody hell, the old fella has still got it.
Although sold as a 'stand alone' movie, Diary is still as much a part of Romero's ongoing vision of the zombie uprising as it's predecessors, taking as it does the premise and ideas forged in Night of The Living Dead mixed with his patented blend of social satire, real world interpersonal politics and heady violence.
Add to this a critical view of how the media can shape, inform and eventually alter our perspective of shared events as well as posing the question of can any reportage be truly unbiased.
Don't mess with Texas.
Romero's ongoing fascination with the breakdown of society and the media's handling of such an event is given a unique spin by the way that today any information, no matter how trivial can be so instantly disseminated to the entire world via the internet, a far cry from the ramshackle news reports of Dawn of The Dead but eerily similar to the 'If it's not on TV it's not really happening' attitude of the original Night and, by making the films main protagonist the camera lens- we see only what it sees -Romero makes us a complicit part of the unfolding story.
What's more horrific: the recently dead returning
to life or the recently dead returning
to life wearing that jumper?
to life or the recently dead returning
to life wearing that jumper?
The (mostly) unknown cast is uniformly fantastic and a return to the 'real people in unreal situations' of Romero's earlier works. Michelle Morgan excels as Debra, torn between dealing with her boyfriends overwhelming obsession to complete his documentary and her own over-riding need to be with her family whilst Scott Wentworth's film professor is a deadpan joy to watch. But it has to be said tho' that no matter how great this little ensemble cast is, the true star of the movie (and possibly the whole saga) has to be Samuel the Old Amish man....NECA release an action figure of this guy now!
"Put it in me!"
What else can I say? Diary of The Dead is the cleverest, scariest and downright entertaining horror movie to come out of America (or Canada) since Romero's own Day of The Dead in 1985. And it truly has something for everyone.
If you don't go see this (or more importantly don't like it) then there is really no hope for you.
Utter perfection on celluloid.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
croc o' vile.
With the release of creepy croc shocker Black Water this weekend (and with John Sayles bombing around Glasgow during the film festival) I thought I'd share the Unwell top ten fave killer croc/angry alligator movies.....
Enjoy!
Barbara Bach vs. a big Alligator:
But which is the most leathery?
Did it eat her whole or spit it out?
Sonne, strand blut indeed Mr. Lister!
The maniac is the poor sod who funded
this Tobe Hooper abomination.
Could any film live up to this poster?
And this one.
This gave me nightmares for weeks.
Well, that's one more sequel than
Schindler's List got.
It's a croc!
It's a dinosaur!
and it's from Roger Corman!
How can it not be great?
And I bet no-one bothered to ask him about this (or The Howling and Piranha) at his talk at the GFT.
Philistines.
Best giant gator movie ever. FACT.
Sayle: of the century.
Enjoy!
Barbara Bach vs. a big Alligator:
But which is the most leathery?
Did it eat her whole or spit it out?
Sonne, strand blut indeed Mr. Lister!
The maniac is the poor sod who funded
this Tobe Hooper abomination.
Could any film live up to this poster?
And this one.
This gave me nightmares for weeks.
Well, that's one more sequel than
Schindler's List got.
It's a croc!
It's a dinosaur!
and it's from Roger Corman!
How can it not be great?
And I bet no-one bothered to ask him about this (or The Howling and Piranha) at his talk at the GFT.
Philistines.
Best giant gator movie ever. FACT.
Sayle: of the century.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
hammer time.
Hammerhead Shark Frenzy (AKA Shark Man, Hammerhead, 2005)
Dir: Michael Oblowitz
Cast: William Forsythe, Hunter Tylo, Jeffrey Combs, Elise Muller, Arthur Roberts, G.R. Johnson and Anton Argirov
Somewhere on a deserted island (that looks a wee bit like Bulgaria) mad as a lorry scientist Dr. Preston King (Combs) is desperately trying to find a cure for his son Paul's terminal pancreatic cancer (cheery).
King decides the best course of action is to use stem cells taken from Hammerhead sharks (?) and merge them with those of his dying son.
Unexpectedly shark DNA can, in fact completely cure all known cancer (who knew?), but the downside is that it causes humans to mutate into hideous half man, half shark monsters!
Feeling that someone should really check up on Dr. Kings wacky experiments, a group of his former colleagues, led by eminent fish expert Dr. Tom Reed (Forsythe) and including his son's ex (Tylo) and for some reason a blonde bimbette in a flouncy dress and pink jelly shoes (Muller, star of the equally fin-tastic Raging Sharks reviewed elsewhere on this blog), decide to make a surprise visit to his island lair for chat, tea and cakes (yum).
On arrival they are horrified (if not a little aroused) to discover not only the mutant hammerhead shark man but a dingy lab stuffed full of half-naked, oily women strapped to tables and shelf upon shelf of pickled shark hybrid fetuses.
Yup, King wants a grandson and it appears that he'll stop at nothing to finally hear the pitter patter of tiny fins around his laboratory.
Trouble is that shark-mans foreplay technique appears to be biting chunks out of his dates.
Artificial insemination wont work either as shark-man can't really reach his own penis with his stumpy claw arms and his dad (understandably) will only do so much for him.
So you can imagine Kings surprise when his sons ex-beau Amelia turns up, he decides to drown the rest of the party in his handy water tank and re-introduce his son to his ex for a candle lit meal, some wine and a wee bit of slap and tickle (plus maybe a bit of biting).
Our motley crew manage to escape down the overflow pipe and into the dense jungle (well, community park) surrounding the complex only to find themselves hunted down by Kings private army.....not only that, but the Doctors son is out for a stroll (paddle?) and is out for blood!
One by one, the cast of has beens, wannabes and ne'er do wells are slaughtered by sharky; first to go is the foxy female German scientist, eating her whole (no he didn't spit that bit out) he then snacks down on a fat lab assistant before scoffing the bimbette.
But he's still hungry!
After another couple of chases, near misses and vicious attacks, the Doc persuades sharky to return to his paddling pool and also manages to trap the ex in a shed.
So he strips her down to her undies, covers her in baby oil, lights some candles, pops on a Barry White CD and straps her to a table ready for some saucy shark sex.
Will William Forsythe arrive armed to the teeth to take out the randy fish before it has poor miss Lockhart?
Or will sharky triumph?
Quite possibly the best mutant hammerhead shark movie to feature Jeffrey Combs, Hammerhead: Shark Frenzy is a laugh a minute, flirty gore fest of the highest order, teasing it's viewers with promises of rubber monster mayhem, needless nudity, buckets of blood and the exciting prospect of girl on shark action.
If you're in the right frame of mind (pissed?) there's a lot of fun to be had with the film; Jeffrey Combs is, as always infinitely watchable and the shark-man costume is a rubbery (thank you) delight to behold and far more realistic than the silicon and plastic form of Hunter Tylo, add to the mix a veritable art store shelf of paper thin non actors (with the exception of William - my alimony payments have hiked - Forsythe) and a bevvy of oiled ladies and you have the perfect Friday night film.
Yup, it's shit, but it's top quality shit and that's all that matters.
Dir: Michael Oblowitz
Cast: William Forsythe, Hunter Tylo, Jeffrey Combs, Elise Muller, Arthur Roberts, G.R. Johnson and Anton Argirov
Amelia Lockhart: You're going to impregnate me?
Dr. Preston King: No....
[pointing to the mutant shark man in the tank]
Dr. Preston King: .....he is.
Dr. Preston King: No....
[pointing to the mutant shark man in the tank]
Dr. Preston King: .....he is.
Somewhere on a deserted island (that looks a wee bit like Bulgaria) mad as a lorry scientist Dr. Preston King (Combs) is desperately trying to find a cure for his son Paul's terminal pancreatic cancer (cheery).
King decides the best course of action is to use stem cells taken from Hammerhead sharks (?) and merge them with those of his dying son.
Unexpectedly shark DNA can, in fact completely cure all known cancer (who knew?), but the downside is that it causes humans to mutate into hideous half man, half shark monsters!
"Spice Girls number one for Christmas.....Monsta!"
Feeling that someone should really check up on Dr. Kings wacky experiments, a group of his former colleagues, led by eminent fish expert Dr. Tom Reed (Forsythe) and including his son's ex (Tylo) and for some reason a blonde bimbette in a flouncy dress and pink jelly shoes (Muller, star of the equally fin-tastic Raging Sharks reviewed elsewhere on this blog), decide to make a surprise visit to his island lair for chat, tea and cakes (yum).
On arrival they are horrified (if not a little aroused) to discover not only the mutant hammerhead shark man but a dingy lab stuffed full of half-naked, oily women strapped to tables and shelf upon shelf of pickled shark hybrid fetuses.
Some shark DNA yesterday.
Yup, King wants a grandson and it appears that he'll stop at nothing to finally hear the pitter patter of tiny fins around his laboratory.
Trouble is that shark-mans foreplay technique appears to be biting chunks out of his dates.
Artificial insemination wont work either as shark-man can't really reach his own penis with his stumpy claw arms and his dad (understandably) will only do so much for him.
So you can imagine Kings surprise when his sons ex-beau Amelia turns up, he decides to drown the rest of the party in his handy water tank and re-introduce his son to his ex for a candle lit meal, some wine and a wee bit of slap and tickle (plus maybe a bit of biting).
The lights are on....
Our motley crew manage to escape down the overflow pipe and into the dense jungle (well, community park) surrounding the complex only to find themselves hunted down by Kings private army.....not only that, but the Doctors son is out for a stroll (paddle?) and is out for blood!
"I wouldn't want one of them swimming up my arse".
One by one, the cast of has beens, wannabes and ne'er do wells are slaughtered by sharky; first to go is the foxy female German scientist, eating her whole (no he didn't spit that bit out) he then snacks down on a fat lab assistant before scoffing the bimbette.
But he's still hungry!
"Leaf me alone!"
After another couple of chases, near misses and vicious attacks, the Doc persuades sharky to return to his paddling pool and also manages to trap the ex in a shed.
Bloody hell.
So he strips her down to her undies, covers her in baby oil, lights some candles, pops on a Barry White CD and straps her to a table ready for some saucy shark sex.
"Laugh Noooooooow!"
Will William Forsythe arrive armed to the teeth to take out the randy fish before it has poor miss Lockhart?
Or will sharky triumph?
"I love you.....could it be magic?"
Quite possibly the best mutant hammerhead shark movie to feature Jeffrey Combs, Hammerhead: Shark Frenzy is a laugh a minute, flirty gore fest of the highest order, teasing it's viewers with promises of rubber monster mayhem, needless nudity, buckets of blood and the exciting prospect of girl on shark action.
Hunter Tylo: frightening breasts.
If you're in the right frame of mind (pissed?) there's a lot of fun to be had with the film; Jeffrey Combs is, as always infinitely watchable and the shark-man costume is a rubbery (thank you) delight to behold and far more realistic than the silicon and plastic form of Hunter Tylo, add to the mix a veritable art store shelf of paper thin non actors (with the exception of William - my alimony payments have hiked - Forsythe) and a bevvy of oiled ladies and you have the perfect Friday night film.
Yup, it's shit, but it's top quality shit and that's all that matters.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
a little less conversation....
For Your Height Only (1981)
Dir: Eddie Nicart
Cast: Weng Weng, Yehlen Catral, Carmi Martin, Mike Cohen, Anna Marie Gutierrez and Beth Sandoval.
"How did that midget find out about our operation? That little Weng could put us out of business!"
Whilst visiting the Philippines (no doubt for cheap crack and whores....no, sorry for a 'science conference') the brilliant (at what I don't know) and bearded Professor Bertie 'Van' Kohler, inventor of the terrifying 'N' bomb is kidnapped by an evil group of pimp shirted bad men and held to ransom by the notorious Mr. Giant.
At times of crisis the world calls on one man, the Philippines top secret agent codenamed: 'Agent 00'; a martial arts expert, weapons specialist, randy romancer, smart dressed lady killer and all-around honest to goodness superhero wrapped in a tiny package topped off with a Dario Argento moptop.
Arriving at Spy HQ, Agent 00 (Weng Weng) receives his orders and his top gadgets from 'The Boss' (not Bruce Springsteen, but a jovial, chubby pervy old uncle figure) who appears obsessed with Wengs ability to listen to him without interrupting.
And oh boy what gadgets!
Not only does he have a radio controlled flying straw hat but also a fountain pen which kills
("Of course. It isn't any good if you need to write with it, but we can't have everything." explains his boss sadly) and a ring which can detect poison!
Let's not forget his big belt which 'has useful things in it', a mini machine gun, a jet pack and, best of all a pair of huge glasses that enable him to see thru' ladies clothes!
Weng manages to infiltrate Mr. Giant’s gang by stripping off his shirt and wiggling his HUGE erect nipples in front of a sexy lady whilst muttering the immortal chat up line: “Hey, do you want to do it?”
The rest of the movie is a fantastic mish mash of hair raising stunts (usually involving Weng jumping off buildings using an umbrella as a parachute or jumping over hills on a mini motorbike), Weng dancing to hot disco hits to impress a gaggle of Filipino chicks and our pint sized hero chasing polyester panted (and shiny shirted) bad guys with his flying hat.
After all this action (and more hot loving), Weng makes his way to the villains hide out, eliminating most of his henchmen thru' a mix of hot lead and punches to the happy sacks before confronting Mr. Giant himself......who isn't a giant at all......HE'S A MIDGET TOO!!!!!
The best film ever made? quite possibly.
Probably the world's greatest action hero, Weng Weng made a further two Agent 00 movies, The Impossible Kid and Da Best in The West.
The Impossible Kid sees Weng Weng transferred to the Manila branch of Interpol and sent in pursuit of the notorious Mr X, a super villain whose head is covered by a giant white sports sock whilst Da Best in The West has Weng and sexy sidekick Gordon investigating the murder of Santa Monica’s mayor. This movie has one of the greatest climaxes of all time, featuring as it does Weng armed with a Gatling gun mowing down hundreds of Mexican bandits whilst a tribe of dwarf tribesmen launch a counter attack with bows and arrows.
You NEED these.
Dir: Eddie Nicart
Cast: Weng Weng, Yehlen Catral, Carmi Martin, Mike Cohen, Anna Marie Gutierrez and Beth Sandoval.
"How did that midget find out about our operation? That little Weng could put us out of business!"
Whilst visiting the Philippines (no doubt for cheap crack and whores....no, sorry for a 'science conference') the brilliant (at what I don't know) and bearded Professor Bertie 'Van' Kohler, inventor of the terrifying 'N' bomb is kidnapped by an evil group of pimp shirted bad men and held to ransom by the notorious Mr. Giant.
At times of crisis the world calls on one man, the Philippines top secret agent codenamed: 'Agent 00'; a martial arts expert, weapons specialist, randy romancer, smart dressed lady killer and all-around honest to goodness superhero wrapped in a tiny package topped off with a Dario Argento moptop.
Arriving at Spy HQ, Agent 00 (Weng Weng) receives his orders and his top gadgets from 'The Boss' (not Bruce Springsteen, but a jovial, chubby pervy old uncle figure) who appears obsessed with Wengs ability to listen to him without interrupting.
And oh boy what gadgets!
Not only does he have a radio controlled flying straw hat but also a fountain pen which kills
("Of course. It isn't any good if you need to write with it, but we can't have everything." explains his boss sadly) and a ring which can detect poison!
Let's not forget his big belt which 'has useful things in it', a mini machine gun, a jet pack and, best of all a pair of huge glasses that enable him to see thru' ladies clothes!
Weng manages to infiltrate Mr. Giant’s gang by stripping off his shirt and wiggling his HUGE erect nipples in front of a sexy lady whilst muttering the immortal chat up line: “Hey, do you want to do it?”
The rest of the movie is a fantastic mish mash of hair raising stunts (usually involving Weng jumping off buildings using an umbrella as a parachute or jumping over hills on a mini motorbike), Weng dancing to hot disco hits to impress a gaggle of Filipino chicks and our pint sized hero chasing polyester panted (and shiny shirted) bad guys with his flying hat.
After all this action (and more hot loving), Weng makes his way to the villains hide out, eliminating most of his henchmen thru' a mix of hot lead and punches to the happy sacks before confronting Mr. Giant himself......who isn't a giant at all......HE'S A MIDGET TOO!!!!!
The best film ever made? quite possibly.
Probably the world's greatest action hero, Weng Weng made a further two Agent 00 movies, The Impossible Kid and Da Best in The West.
The Impossible Kid sees Weng Weng transferred to the Manila branch of Interpol and sent in pursuit of the notorious Mr X, a super villain whose head is covered by a giant white sports sock whilst Da Best in The West has Weng and sexy sidekick Gordon investigating the murder of Santa Monica’s mayor. This movie has one of the greatest climaxes of all time, featuring as it does Weng armed with a Gatling gun mowing down hundreds of Mexican bandits whilst a tribe of dwarf tribesmen launch a counter attack with bows and arrows.
You NEED these.
where are they now? (part 1)
The pug faced wee girl from Zombie Lake.
If you're reading this get in touch.
Monday, February 11, 2008
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