⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2
What in the holy fucking seven hells did I just watch? Chopped and cropped to blissful incoherence, Wicked Wife is a completely lunatic film. A sexy widow opens up a successful restaurant/whorehouse (I think) just as a string of tiger murders plague a small town. Behind the murders is an angry young woman with the power to transform into said big-cat (I think). She’s doing away with an evil sorcerer’s gang with the assistance of the sexy widow (I think). The sorcerer’s preferred method of murder is to use poisonous centipedes on his victims. Stuck in the middle of all this insanity is a young man searching for his missing fiancée and in the employment of the sorcerer (maybe?). All of this awesomeness takes a backseat to the “romantic” plot line of the young man and may very well stretch your patience to the breaking point. Of course, if you can tough it out and ride the weird-ass vibes, you will be rewarded with sped up kung-Fu, needless gymnastics, whip violence, magic water, a hilarious dub job performed by some of the worst voice actors I’ve ever encountered and a quickly dispatched zombie. Trash fiends with no need for logical storytelling will find themselves in heaven, all others may want to steer clear before their brains melt. I loved it.
⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2
Pesticides used on a small village’s vineyard has the adverse effect of turning said townsfolk into murderous monsters, with the wine infecting the neighboring villages as well. Bad luck that a sexy young woman is traveling by train near the area and is forced to flee when an infected goober comes aboard and slaughters her friend. She escapes into the countryside, accompanied by a moody electronic score and Jean Rollin’s usual artistic eye. Running into various infected folk, some a little better off (for now, at least) than others, the young woman fights for her life against sore-covered Frenchmen every step of the way. Plenty of pus is complimented by plenty of wandering but it all somehow works under the talented direction of Rollin. Just when it starts to bore, the viewer is greeted with a particularly atmospheric scene or a burst of graphic violence. Brigitte Lahaie shows up in a nightgown with two dogs and a case of the crazies... and that is always a good thing.
aka It’s Happening Again
⭐️1/2
An infamous patch of road along the Appalachian Trail goes by the name of Dead Woman’s Hollow and has a dark history. This brings a team of college paranormal investigators to the location for their awful ghost hunting show Soul Hunters. Extended opening credits play over some old footage of a group of hippies partying in the woods to a title track. The video is being watched by our heroes because towards the end a figure shows up in the background and the group leader thinks it’s a shadow ghost. She then shows them the crime scene photos of the dead hippies who were gunned down soon after. One of them points out that it may not be a supernatural figure but just their killer. Good to know someone is using their brain. Jess assures them that the same entity has been witnessed for at least 100 years, so there ain’t no way. She also lets them know that they’ll be shooting guerrilla style because the local authorities did not grant them any permits. Two of the dudes enlist their buddy to dress up and go up there so they can catch him on camera and not waste their weekend wandering around the wilderness. It’s a fine plan but the problem is that there’s already something dangerous in the woods and it knows they’re trampling around. Freshly-appointed sheriff Buck Rogers is getting comfortable in his new position and is out of his element when he has to deal with the sinister history of the area and the impending doom the group of university students are marching right into. This doom is coming in the form of a mustachless hillbilly with a rifle. After a bit this thing goes past its natural endpoint and we’re treated to an endurance test. It runs into an issue found in a whole bunch of these backyard flicks where a lack of editing skills make for boring scenes that don’t need to be there. You’ve already told us your buddy is going to be piecing together a costume from the thrift store, we don’t need a couple minutes dedicated to him shopping as intense music plays. And then even more time spent with him dressing up in said costume to the same repetitive theme. I don’t think you can legally call anything in this a “performance” and I doubt “acting natural” qualifies either because the word acting is in it. The least threatening mountain man I’ve ever seen makes for one hilarious antagonist. So, you should be laughing in between the pessimistic world view and failed humor. A frail Conrad Brooks shows up so this was shot at least three years prior to the 2020 release unless his ghost came back to cameo in a garbage indie film. Could be. I don’t know, I’m no scientist. It’s one hundred minutes long and does almost nothing… that is completely unforgivable. It seriously ends and then chugs on for another forty minutes. If you’re like me, you’ll laugh a couple of times… at least at yourself.
aka Club Dead
⭐️⭐️⭐️
The dangers of breaking a gym membership are explored in great detail when the natural evolution of fitness obsession finally melds with murder and Satanism. Benson’s Health Spa is a dump and just about to turn the lights off for good. The three gym members are pretty bummed but what ya gonna do? A shadowy man in a wide-brimmed hat (who we have seen earlier murdering someone who broke her contract) shows up to offer the owner a chance to turn her gym into a viable business. All the mystery man asks for is her loyalty and the loyalty of the customers she brings in. She accepts the offer of Mr. Ex and then he heads off to kill more people. A journalist gets a scoop when her friend Marsha finds her in a panic and lets her know that a creepy man is after her. Her mother was the one murdered in the opening scene and her sister has gone missing. It all followed a deal that was too good to be true for her mother’s business. Uh oh. Marsha vanishes from the supposed safety of her friend’s home. Benson opens up her gym and business is booming. Her guarantee of a perfect form or you pay nothing is too good to pass up and the so-called “Plan Ex” can give you everything you’ve ever wanted for your personal health. The reporter and her buff coworker look for the missing Marsha but it seems she no longer exists and her apartment is being lived in by someone else claiming he’s been there for decades and her college professor claims he has no idea who she is and she was never enrolled. Another reporter joins the health spa to see if it’s legit and when she mentions the strange Mr. Ex, our hero recognizes the description of the sinister man who was after her friend. Hunky dude happens to have invented a “Devil-busting” computer program as a joke for his preacher father and I’m sure that’ll come in handy down the line… I mean, Mr. Ex is constantly checking his own computer which gives a helpful corruption percentage and orders from his masters. But I’m getting way ahead of myself because there’s a lot of minutes in the runtime and a bunch of questionable comedy, weirdo performances and lo-fi violence. It’s the best way to kill time in a homegrown slice of backyard bizarreness. Nobody will be earning any award for performances but that doesn’t matter, they all craft semi-interesting weirdos who may be practicing humanity for the first time. It’s a rare thing when I don’t really want to see any of the future victims bite it, no matter how unconvincing they may be at drama. There’s plenty of conversations to nod off to and plenty of villainy that would have been mustache-twirling if Mr. Ex had facial hair but I guess he may have looked too much like a heavy in a western TV show from the sixties if he had a soup catcher. Instead he kind of resembles an eighties businessman who moonlights as a Pilgrim. So stretch them joints as the film stretches out the runtime but if ya have a taste for thrills from the Blood Cult school of genre horror, you can have yourself a good ol’ time with this supernatural silliness. “There’s something out there and it took my beans!”
aka Movie House Massacre
⭐️⭐️
Sometime in the past, a fired theater manager lost his shit thanks to poor ticket sales and an unfaithful girlfriend, setting some film on fire and locking the doors with the employees, performers and audience still inside. He then stepped out and stabbed the pretty ticket keeper to death. Dick move, bro. Years have passed and the building has stood empty with the bad history giving it a spooky reputation and any attempt at reopening leading to death. Spotlite Theatres doesn’t let this infamy stand in the way of profit and they buy the building to open up another cinema. The boss lets his three top employees know they are being transferred to the new location to run the joint and is offering up a cool grande to split between the trio if they manage to pull off a successful opening night. The three set out to clean the place and get it running but minor spookiness and old building issues complicate things. Lame murders eventually follow. Mary Woronov naturally steals every scene she graces with her presence as the sleazy theater chain owner’s bitchy secretary. She’s a definite bright spot in a somewhat drab flick that feels like it belongs to an earlier decade. It doesn’t help that it’s more interested at being a comedy than being a horror film and when a comedy fails at being funny it’s a waste of time as opposed to a horror film that fails at horror and can sometimes be at least funnier than expected. There’s some stupid charm on display, a cutie or two to catch the eye and some minor bits of inspiration but there’s a bunch of drag and even more awkward performances.
aka Splatter Asylum
⭐️⭐️
A woman drives alone on an empty street, the quiet is disrupted by two desperate women who force their way into her car and tell her she needs to drive. A gaggle of children who cannot contain their joy and giggles attack the car. The three women speed off and someone flies across the hood of the vehicle. The driver stops to check and is attacked by a homeless man. Thinking quick, the blonde chickadee in the backseat grabs an umbrella and forces it into the homeless man’s eyeball. The children, who have reappeared, cannot help but smile. One of the girl’s tells the driver what has brought them to this point. The day before some dance club owner purchases an old mansion on the hill, aptly named Dread Mansion. What does one do with a creepy-ass mansion on a hill? Throws a party! Duh. The housewarming party comprised of a friend group that definitely spends its weekends playing Magic seem to open an evil doorway on accident and splattery deaths come their way. A part-time Elvis impersonator and full-time comic shop employee finds out his pregnant girlfriend is going to abort their child, some dude in a wheelchair and a stupid hat is convinced the house is cursed, new mansion owner Rudy doesn’t have time for this spooky bullshit, the dark history of Dread Mansion is shared by bonfire and that sets up all we’ll need to know for what’s coming. An antique chest gets opened, an ancient tome gets discovered and various evil entities get themselves some freedom for the first time in too long. But before you get excited, remind yourself you are watching a Todd Sheets film. So you’ll have to deal with plenty of ambling action and attempts at comedic dialogue that just comes off as people who dislike each other half-heartedly pretending to be friends. Sheets brings his usual very amateur and very wet sensibilities to his love letter to Lovecraft, Fulci and haunted house attractions. Filled with graphic violence, questionable digital effects work and annoying idiots being as abrasive as humanly possible, it’s an endurance test that still has that Sheets charm he somehow manages to throw into most of his braindead output. I mean, a ghost gives a lapdance to a guy in a wheelchair. That’s just something I didn’t know I needed to see. Should it be 105 minutes long? No. God, no. Should I have enjoyed it as much as I did? Also, no but that one is definitely my fault.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
The Exorcist and the success it had inspired a whole lotta films, especially in Europe. This time we get the familiar possession plot but with the addition of boobs and Paul Naschy. Yes. That is a victory. A young woman is an unknowing participant in a Satanic ritual (the high cost of hanging out with hippies and having your fiancé being an archeologist who may have come across some things better left buried) and before you can say “Pazuzu”, she’s inhabited by the spirit of her dead father. This possession leads to a potty mouth, plenty of puking and that ol’ familiar head spinning (of course this time it’s the victims getting their nigh ins twisted in ways noggin are not meant to be twisted). Naschy is the village priest brought in to save this poor girl’s soul after medical science can’t find anything wrong with her (and some false leads answer some questions but not all of them) and her brother John worries that the supernatural is at play. Father Dunning does some digging and Leila’s family (and the house staff) have more than a few secrets of their own. Leila attempts seduction, familiar scenes play out but due to a lack of skill come off as pale imitations and organ music wonderfully blares on the soundtrack. Lacking the atmosphere and upsetting realism of its inspiration, Exorcism still manages to entertain by being somewhat seedy and way dumber. The Exorcist didn’t have a Satanic mass with naked chicks and swaying hips… much to its detriment. Plus, a bearded Paul Naschy is always welcome in this house. The full blown possession makeup is amateur in comparison but still fucking awesome and I’ll never complain about sexy Euro-girls taking their tops off and flashing some bush. It’s minor but still entertaining enough.
