⭐️⭐️
Med students take a weekend to fix up an old building which was once an orphanage. We say “once” because ten years ago the place was burned to the ground following accusations of abuse and molestation concerning the owner’s son. Before his innocence was declared in a court of law, the father killed himself and the son went on to strike the occupants and accusers at the place with murderous vengeance. He set the place on fire and then supposedly killed himself. A young doctor about to become a pediatrician looking at the rebuilt place and plans to reopen it as a foster home. This brings the young derps (his friends) to help not only set up but get a little partying done in the process. To the surprise of no one, there’s a giggling manic on the loose (murdering the aspiring pediatrician immediately and supplying some meat for dinner in the process), sticking close by to the building and eyeballing the bevy of annoying victims now roaming around the joint. Elderly young people come to bloody ends at the hands of a masked murderer… but there’s a tight budget, a focus on lame comedy and it’s towards the end of the decade that made the subgenre so popular. A combination that doesn’t always lead to the best of outings. A cleaning montage that involves plenty of swaying hips and awkward dancing comes to an end when the dude in the shortest of shorts finds a cassette tape that contains the kind of audio that probably would have had them fleeing if they weren’t checking on their missing friend’s missing car. So now nobody is questioning the lack of Jerry. There’s hijinks, a couple of entitled yuppies, butt squeezing, drama between “friends”, general horniness, a fat police chief looking for a missing delivery boy, a realtor with marital issues, a bunch of topless dudes, a college kid who may be pushing fifty (could just be because he’s from New York) and some early meta humor when it comes to the genre. It’s dull but sometimes dull enough to be kind of charming and Tina is kinda cute so it has that going for it. A little splat and a suitably disturbing past makes it more watchable than expected. Still, a very lame slasher flick.
aka Tiger Woman, Black Magic II
⭐️⭐️1/2
After the violent (and may I say well-deserved) murderous deeds of the first outing, Katemi (lovely Suzzanna again) is hiving a go at living a quiet and pious life. The shunning she receives from the locals is about to get worse because the mentor of that crocodile witch from original Santet has found her and a new curse is thrown out. Did you say “nightly tiger transformations?” You did? That’s kinda weird that your head went there. You can’t just abandon black magic practices without paying a price, ya know. Turns out the old hag wants the life of the holy man that put an end to her pupil. So, now villagers are getting their judgmental asses slaughtered (barely) and Katemi is finding her living situation put into peril. It’s not even five minutes in before we get our first hilarious tiger transformation. This leads directly into the opening credits. These opening credits end and we get a live performance from an all-girl band with some sick flute work singing about the “world of news”. There’s also “comedy” involving an angry wife, a dancing husband and swaying hips. “Where’s the tiger-lady?” Will definitely be the question running through your head. Well, the arguing couple discover a mutilated goat on their walk home and tiger tracks which lead back to the home of Katemi. Katemi, for her part, confesses to the handsome local holy man that she’s being possessed and that he’s the witch’s main target but unlike the locals, he believes her faith in Allah can be used to halt the evil plans of revenge. The witch (and her head of hair that looks like it’s comprised of several dead animals) ain’t happy about Katemi’s religious resolve and flees into the night when her targeted vessel prays her away. Unfortunately, the locals still have no love for her and don’t mind being complete dicks to her. Stupid jerks. Worse yet, that awful crime boss with the mug even a mother couldn’t love who got himself perished by the wife he murdered had a son (played by the same actor, naturally) and that son has just arrived to the village. Dad’s old crew is happy to have someone to follow again and it’s looking more and more like the only person on Katemi’s side is the young holy man she’s been told to kill. Ouch! Crime boss 2 and his crew set fire to Katemi’s house while she’s still inside (about to hang herself after she attempted to seduce her religious friend) but she escapes into the night. With no faith left, the recovering practitioner of the dark arts gets back to doing what she’s good at and the movie brings on the tiger-lady vengeance. Or it would go down but there’s more comedy to be had involving the horny cop Bokir and his frustrated wife. Stuffed tiger attacks accompany stock footage, awful people cause problems and the holy man attempts to save the soul of our lady. A strong focus on ass-numbing comedy throws a massive wrench in the enjoyment of this one and it only remembers to bring the Indonesian genre insanity every so often. Working more as a remake than a sequel, it follows a familiar pace and plot while only giving glimpses at just how much fun it could have been. Again, the last few minutes are a blast.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Owl Lake is supposedly haunted. A brutal murder set in motion a curse where the slaughtered woman now dwells within the lake and uses seduction to drown whatever poor sap is unfortunate to cross her path. We know this is true thanks to an opening murder. Some dude who looks like the offspring of Twin Peaks Russ Tamblyn and adult Greg Brady threatens a woman decked out in all white at gunpoint to give him what he wants. She strips and kisses him but then throws up in his mouth while transforming into a hag. He dies via poison vomit (maybe) and then the woman takes a dreamy dip in the lake (pool) and the credits role. Before you can say “whuh?” we see said almost rapist in a coffin surrounded by fire (green screen) and a young derp approaching his coffin. A knight (who looks like he’d be more comfortable discussing my taxes) is there and warns the young man that “our lake is full of mysteries”. Needless to say, I’m kind of in love. The young man (the dead guy’s nephew) wakes up to the news his Uncle Jake is dead. Premonition much? David lets the girl in his bed know he’s going away for a bit and isn’t sure when he’s coming back. Deb is rightfully upset he’s just brushing her off to do whatever the hell vague “family stuff” he has to deal with. She will not be seen again after showing off her top and tail. This family stuff brings David to Owl Lake and his deceased uncle’s lakeside home. Like all nineties lakeside home’s in rural nowhere, there’s a drunk, scumbag neighbor. David immediately hears a woman calling his name and has a flashback to his youth where he had an encounter with the ghostly lady of the lake. The neighbor breaks his revelry and warns him about the dangers of the area in his Brooklyn by way of rural Canadian style. When David isn’t painting, he’s experiencing paranormal activity and bizarre fantasies involving the (just as) horny lake lady (water gets everywhere). David thinks he’s going nuts but what’s love but a socially accepted form of insanity. Anyways, he’s obviously not because there’s photographic proof of this dream woman and even some video footage that Guido the Canadian New Yorker watches longingly. Can David break the curse? Can a rightfully angry revenant find love? Can said love allow people to time travel? Can someone be Italian and Canadian and not come off as a creep? Can a hallway mirror really serve as a gateway to a romantic water rendezvous? How about a looking glass into Hell? Can the hammiest villain this side of Canadian park performers be stopped? Can we shoehorn zombies into this thing? Can David put on a shirt? All of these questions will be answered because somebody had access to a pleasant piece of lakeside property and happened to be owed a favor by the owner of a Renaissance Faire. Sometimes, fate is working in to all of our benefit. There’s a whole lot of unexpected nudity for the budget (we talkin’ some dong) and a lo-fi dreamy quality the has this thing coming off like a public access transmission from a different dimension where every actor never quite made it past dinner theater, everyone is just slightly horny all of the time and everything goes wonderfully off the rails as things reach the end. Needless to say, I’m kind of in love.
⭐️⭐️
One of the world’s most prolific serial killers escapes from the clinic he is housed in and returns to the old homestead where he murdered his family supposedly after The Wicked One entered his body. This is unfortunate for the group of 30-something “youths” staying at an old family farmhouse during a Halloween weekend getaway. They wind up in the path of said super killer because the family farmhouse shares the same property where Colin (lol) aka The Wicked One (THAT’S THE NAME OF THE MOVIE!) killed his kinfolk. The killer’s elderly doctor is also on his trail. This all sounds pretty familiar, don’t it? Drama gets added when main girl Alex’s mopey/asshole brother, Trevor, joins them (he needed a lift) and pretty much ruins everyone’s time. Colin throws on your standard “spooky” scarecrow mask he finds whilst he wanders around the area and murders random folks he comes across on his journeys. This is sounding so damn familiar. After some boringness that could be loosely described as character development, Colin… ahem… The Wicked One finally shows up to do the usual thing that masked psychopaths do. People separate for reasons and end up dead. Now I know I’ve seen this somewhere before. So yeah, they kind of remade Rob Zombie’s Halloween films but took out any aspect that made them at least somewhat interesting and threw a Spirit Halloween scarecrow mask on a dude whose beard cannot be contained within it. It’s your standard indie feature: extended scenes that don’t need to be there, actors trying their damndest, a bar concert (trust me, I’m surprised at how many bands populated with a filmmaker’s friends I have seen since the late 80s), an inability to portray thrilling action sequences and violence that really wants to be special but just can’t because budgets are a real son of a bitch sometimes. It’s not insultingly bad or anything and the killer does briefly show up on horseback but I’ll probably never watch it again.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
Cryptozoologist, David Gates, looks into the mass disappearance of a small town for a producer who has just green-lit the filming of four episodes for a program concerning the hunt for supernatural phenomena. His investigation uncovers some disturbing secrets and, even worse, unleashes a cosmic nightmare on himself and his cameraman. His mind already on some shaky ground, David’s producer sends him to film an exorcism in New Jersey… something way out of David’s realm of comfort. He does it despite his reservations and shit gets bad when whatever evil presence that festers inside the young girl murders the exorcist and sends David and his cameraman fleeing. David’s health starts deteriorating and a biological nightmare emerges, all tied into that horror incubating in the isolated small town they explored. Of course, there’s evil machinations afoot and our two heroes are thrown smack-dab into the middle of something they can’t even fathom. Blood and other fluids mix in with slime, flesh and tentacles, a hitman gets involved and everything goes to hell. Micro-budgeted nightmare from Brian Paulin (Reap of Evil, Bone Sickness) suffers from the usual less-than-convincing performances and plot-advancing idiotic behavior but cranks up the spookiness, sound design and ick factor to distract from the constraints. Eldritch horror slips comfortably into disgusting body horror brought to life by some impressive and some not-so-impressive effects work. The issue remains, the plot pretty much exists to showcase the SFX craftwork so any lasting power the film could have had is diminished for the sake of splatter. Which is a shame, because the story has seeds of interest and further development could have made this an underground classic.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
Three youthful chickadees make their way to a music festival and crash their car on some rural backroads in the middle of nowhere. They wake up in the home of Marion Penrose under the care of the stern-looking woman and a local Jack-of-all-trades who looks like someone who should be in a Nick Millard film. Marion assures the young girls that they shall be meeting “mother” later as the downpour is making it impossible for them to walk the handful of miles necessary to get to the closest town. The lack of phones in the house also makes it impossible for the girls to call their parents and the heavy rain has made the one road out impossible to use. Added to that, one of their number is bedridden thanks to the accident. So, it’s creepy meals with Marion and her bitchy wheelchair-bound mother. Mother has hang-ups when it comes to her daughter’s supposed promiscuous lifestyle (I’m not seeing it) and it may have something to do with how much attention Marion’s father paid to female children. Yes. The personal rot goes deep in this house. There’s a bulky homeless dude and his creep-stache stalking around outside in the rain, ogling the young ladies like a pervert in a Nick Millard flick. The young girls talk some mad shit about their hosts and express how creepy everything is. They’re not wrong but maybe cut back on the shit talk or at least whisper it like a normal person. That first night has one of the girls is woken up by what sounds like someone masturbating and that seems like the favorite pastime of that mustachioed creep that’s been hanging around. One of the gals decides to try her luck walking through the woods to town so they can get in contact with one of their parents (of course they shower first as someone watches from a peephole and moans). They let Marion know and then the brunette sets off through the woods and is slaughtered by someone wielding a scythe. It’s quick and nasty and works way better than it should. This leaves the blonde to talk with Marion about her family history, the bruised friend in bed to not do much, handyman Norm to tinker around the property looking like Dave Thomas cosplaying as Eugene Levy and mother to act awful and carry on with her man-hating ways. Marion plays piano, an establishing shot of the rain-swept house gets abused, there’s a shed that’s off limits and heavy breathing in the dead of night. It’s all accompanied by a low-effort but fucking awesome electronic score and the slightly dull and hazy performances only enhance the oddness of the whole damn thing. The violence is rare and brief but it hits pretty hard when it goes down and a natural atmosphere is prevalent thanks to the amateur blood pumping through its kinda-slasher veins. A suitable ending serves this one up as a downbeat oddity (from Ohio!) well-worth tracking down.
1/2
Wretched garbage plays itself up to be a purposefully bad movie but lacks any bit of entertainment and just becomes a test of endurance for anyone unfortunate enough to see it. The opening features some asshole going on about how awful the director Roger Franco is. This goes on for nearly six fucking minutes. The opening credits are over a poorly dubbed performance by some punk band taking place in someone’s tiny living room. Digital effects that belong in a Star Wars game made for Windows 95 (in fact, I believe I saw a TIE Fighter in there) bring an invasion of Jason Voorheeses to earth. This goes on while Roger Franco films his next god-awful movie. Meta humor, the rape of a man in a monkey mask, the skull fucking of baby’s corpse (don’t worry, it’s clearly plastic) and homophobia make for one hard trek that just keeps going. Eventually the Jasons hit the movie set and we know the film is about to run out of time. One of the longest hours I have ever had to endure. This movie can go fuck itself.
