aka Vampire Killer Barbys
⭐️⭐️⭐️
An injured man flees from a castle into the fog-shrouded night, an older gentleman with a crossbow follows behind and gives chase and the rotting corpse of a female seems to be watching all of this from an upstairs bedroom window. The bloodied man evades the elderly man but is soon grabbed by some hobo-looking man and has his throat slit. And then the most Jess Franco thing outside of an unnecessary zoom happens... we cut to a club where folks are dancing and a live act is entertaining. It's 96 and Uncle Jess is still that same psychopath he's always been. The band in question is The Killer Barbies (like anyone from Mattel double checked) and they sound like a mixture of No Doubt and cigarette stains. The older gentleman from the opening scene is also at the club, watching from the back and obviously plotting. The man's name is Arkan, the barely living corpse in the bedroom is Countess Von Fledermaus and The Killer Barbies have exactly what the Countess needs. Ya see, her and her secretary/lover Arkan have figured out the key to eternal life and I quote: "To drink the hot blood of the young people!" Well this band is young and I'm sure their blood is hot as hell. So, on their way to the next gig in a shitty minivan, The Killer Barbies almost hit a stalled steamroller and get their tire stuck in the mud. Luckily, a helpful Arkan appears and offers to put them up for the night. Three of the band members agree but the drummer Billy and Sharon (who I believe has the responsibility of dancing in her underwear during performances) decide to spend the night in the van and bang till dawn. So that's three in the castle including vocalist Flavia, her boyfriend/guitarist Rafa and Mario who I'm sure does something besides being a virgin and the two having a very intense grind session in the tour van. There's also Arkan showing the braindead dips around, the Countess in the bedroom slowly regenerating as she consumes blood, the creepy hobo halfwit servant and two midgets he calls "the children" creeping around the property and behaving like morons. There's also a legend about a satanic monk and love and an actress from the 1920s who bears a shocking resemblance to the Countess and talk of a blood and semen potion. I'm mentioning all of this here because even though the ideas are interesting, in pure Franco fashion, they're barely explored. Flavia and Mario are suspicious of Arkan but can't seem to get Rafa to give a shit. The two band mates in the bone-zone are attacked which leads to a butt-naked Sharon fleeing from her attackers in nothing but go-go boots. She eventually gets beheaded by a scythe and Mario gets his throat slit. Time kind of gives up and nobody really notices anything. Finally restored from the hot young blood, the Countess joins her guests. In a beautiful casting choice, Mariangela Giordano (Burial Ground) plays the Countess. Giordano still radiates electric sex on the eve of 60 and makes for one convincing centuries-old vampiric sex-bomb. At least, before the dialogue hits but everyone loses any believability when the wretched dialogue is delivered in this, so we'll just let that be. The Countess wastes no time and takes Rafa to bed leaving a pissed-off Flavia slack-jawed and angry. Rafa doesn't last long and the ageless fiend writhes around in his blood making what sounds like a mixture of growling and moaning. Flavia begins snooping around the castle in her underwear and we eventually come to the climax which involves the burnt homeless man getting run over by a steamroller and the Countess being tossed from her bedroom window. Thanks, Jess. Somewhere between a dream that unsettles due to boredom and a hazy heroin-plagued recollection of Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Park, Jess Franco's flick vibrates on an eternal loop. Loose threads dangle in the wind, just out of reach and our eyes are constantly being forced to focus on some mundane idiocy as opposed to the almost touchable excitement. It's so damn Franco it hurts.
⭐️1/2
The titular paranormal investigation team head out to the Scottish highlands for their popular YouTube series. Hikers find their cameras and we get ourselves another found footage flick. The group was seeking a paranormal portal which may explain the appearance and disappearance of various supernatural entities. They goof around and ramble for a bit but their camping excursion in the forests around Loch Ness begins to get creepy when team leader John comes to believe there may be a Bigfoot hanging around. One guy goes missing, one night gets active and people begin thinking it may be time to get the fuck out. They hit the bricks and come across what remains of their buddy (it ain’t much). The cops get called but the group may not last long enough to be greeted by the comforting arms of the local law enforcement. Ninety plus minutes of tedium picks up somewhat as it draws to a close but nowhere near enough to recommend it. The cast is fine, so it gets a minor leg up on some of its predecessors but that’s about it. Finally. Proof that camping in Scotland is just as boring as camping in America.
aka Blood of the Zombie
⭐️⭐️1/2
A Louisiana setting adds some much-needed spice to this butt-numbing low-budget oddity. A honeymooning couple head to New Orleans to take in Bourbon Street and check out the family estate the husband has just inherited thanks to his marriage. Along the way, the husband invites a stranded showgirl to spend the night at the family home (this is the first night of marital bliss and John is what we call an idiot) and the trio receive a cold welcome from John’s cousin, Monica. She wants the plantation for herself and is not above murder to get her way. She’s a voodoo practitioner and has resurrected her gangly dead brother (who looks like how I imagine Keith Richards feels) to do her homicidal bidding. The zombie is goofy (and somehow a little creepy) looking and it’s great having a chance to get a glimpse at 1960s Bourbon Street but the whole thing is a bit sleep-inducing.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
El Santo goes up against a legend in this psychotronic treat from south of the border. Professor Lira asks El Santo to accompany him as he explores the cavernous tomb of the long dead Doña Eugenia Esparza, searching for her medallion. Santo ain’t about grave robbing but the professor lets him know the medallion will lead them to a Spanish treasure, a treasure which will go directly to a children’s charity. The pot is sweetened when the professor shares that Eugenia is the basis of the legendary La Llorona, who killed her three sons and herself after her fiancé Don Juan de Gonzaga abandoned her for another woman. Of course, there’s a Satan-approved curse in the works involving the wailing ghost of Eugenia, rising from the grave to murder the firstborn son of any descendant of the man who spurned her. Turns out Lira has experienced that tragedy first hand and plans to donate the treasure to charity to break the woman’s pact with the Devil and free her soul. The professor’s colleague is in cahoots with a crime boss, who is scheming to get his hands on that treasure once El Santo finishes up with the hard work. El Santo brings along Mantequilla Nápoles, a famous boxer and friend, who really wants to see himself a ghost. They find the mummy of the woman, grab the medallion and bring that creepy-ass ghost-mummy back to life in the process. Lira’s grandson Carlitos becomes a target of the vengeance-seeking remnant who bucks tradition and starts strangling any heir she can get her hands on. The two men have their hands full as they attempt to outsmart the criminal and his goons while protecting little Carlitos from the decayed dame. It’s a fun time loaded with bizarre nonsense and a cheap yet effective ghoul.
⭐️⭐️1/2
Writer Andy (hey, it’s Corey Feldman) leaves his university in Europe to be with his med-school girlfriend at whatever American college she’s studying at. She doesn’t seem all that thrilled about his arrival. Lacking a place to stay, he joins up with a fraternity of weirdos after the more popular one proves to not be his scene. The frat is headed by a charismatic dork by the name of Marsh who takes a shine to Andy and his distaste for frat boys. He also needs Andy because they’re down a member (we watched him succumb to some voodoo doll shenanigans in the opening) and they need seven to remain a fraternity. Following your standard corpse-stealing initiation, Andy is welcomed to the frat. He has spooky dreams that night involving the corpse, a snake and that corpse having a snake tongue. The next day some hobo warns him of the danger he’s in but is relieved to see he hasn’t been “marked” yet. Still, he shouts that he’ll be killed before running off. This hobo is played by Jack Nance and although I would follow that man into the very fires of hell, Mr. Feldman does not and ends up paying for it. Oh well. They throw their new member a little shindig and slip him a mickey in his first drink of the night. The real initiation happens and judging by the combination of blood, corpse resurrection, dead goat and sinister looking paraphernalia… it’s not going to lead to anything good. Also, that rival frat of douchebags break in and destroy all their shit while they’re performing whatever ritual they’re performing on Andy. Andy wakes up the next day with the “mark”… it’s a tattoo. Jack Nance pops up in his room and tells him what’s what and now a ritual is underway that will lead to Andy’s death which will lead to Marsh’s full control over him. The rival frat is slaughtered in a voodoo-caused shotgun murder/suicide, salt is put to good use, the voodoo frat’s claws are dug in deeper than expected, Feldman’s girl is put into danger thanks to her boyfriend’s fuck up and lovely Jack Nance plays hero before meeting his maker. Minor thrills are in abundance but it’s still kind of fun for a mid-90’s supernatural thriller. I may be biased, I’m a fan of the Feldman filmography. It’s like a lame episode of HBO’s Tales From the Crypt which lacks the exploitative elements but is somehow just charming enough to get by.
aka Death Rides a Carousel
⭐️⭐️⭐️
Coney Island becomes a bloody nightmare when various awful women start getting mutilated by some unknown assailant. H.G. Lewis style gore peppers the tedium and a parade of horrible humans gets ya itching for a nice warm shower. Mommy issues (of course) are the reason for the psychosis but is it the kind(ish) carnie or his disfigured and hunchbacked assistant (Burt fuckin’ Young)? A newly engaged D.A. is bucking to solve the case and his Dee-Reynolds-lookin’ fiancée just wants to celebrate their love. A grimy time indeed, filmed like a back room porno and performed in much the same style. There’s a fortune teller with a secret, a teddy bear full of guts, and plenty of time capsule footage to keep ya awake in between the gore and grime.
⭐️⭐️1/2
An unmanned spacecraft disintegrates upon re-entry and its nanotech-based combat drone does what it’s programmed to do. Unfortunately for humanity, the secret military murder-tech has landed in the crocodile habitat of a place called Adventure Cove (it’s like a zoo/water-park kind of deal) and found a new home in a giant crocodile named Stella. The military shows up, tight-lipped and looking to find their shit but Stella ain’t fucking around and the bodies start dropping. Soldiers, employees and partying “teens” are on the menu and it’s gonna take a roguish (and lovable) head zookeeper and his sexy biologist co-worker to get this problem solved as the beast becomes more robot than reptile. There’s a subplot about the zookeeper’s weenie son and his annoying buddy getting trapped in the water park along with some dinks and their girlfriends and shit cgi does not stop them from lovingly displaying their killer creature. The violence is mostly of the smear-fake-blood-on-a-corpsing-actor variety and you could pretty much cut and paste the plot with any other SyFy Channel original but don’t let that ruin your time. Corin Nemec is our likable hero and Dee Wallace shows up as a no-nonsense government scientist.
