tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49287717697895337842024-03-05T21:30:47.132-08:00Video Junkie Strikes Back from Beyond the GraveVideo Junkie - Horror, Cult, Weird, Rare Movies from Around the World!Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.comBlogger804125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-674400956808148572023-11-22T13:32:00.000-08:002023-11-22T13:32:00.234-08:00Horrible Halloween: The Living Hell of Ulli Lommel (2023)<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5VIIYnPH7GGjSj-Z-TDIg_mYXRBOMHM39sv4fFxyVG0673cMGuEATFmlpvCAGxInTXbbWQqgOO0QmbaCvrADwRmsnkozqaFREpiqkev22bOok-sQnakIGgo_tRVSQdQ0xVAIcS0qrO0tPnHNHvs18O46TzED4lNunrPkiyhRKf8bSVAqZ45BwaC08sfu_/s1280/Living_Hell_of_Ulli.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5VIIYnPH7GGjSj-Z-TDIg_mYXRBOMHM39sv4fFxyVG0673cMGuEATFmlpvCAGxInTXbbWQqgOO0QmbaCvrADwRmsnkozqaFREpiqkev22bOok-sQnakIGgo_tRVSQdQ0xVAIcS0qrO0tPnHNHvs18O46TzED4lNunrPkiyhRKf8bSVAqZ45BwaC08sfu_/w640-h360/Living_Hell_of_Ulli.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b>The plan was to cover the full run of 12 serial killer movies from Ulli Lommel and his pimp, Lionsgate. Unfortunately, these movies are even worse than we suspected. Really, I'm not kidding here. These movies suck so hard that they create a swirling vortex of darkness that swallows black holes. So, we tapped out early. "Wimps!" I hear you scream. Yeah, I know, we're getting soft in our respective old ages. We could have broken a hip or something! To be honest though, there is only so many ways that you can say "Ulli doesn't give a shit, he's just doing it for the money." Hell, if you can even make it through every review, you deserve a gold star stapled to your forehead. You've been warned.</b><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLTpFUPaL3JPkc0Q3kcZhD4x_9IJPgEEXup2K1L4K9Wa2tVDOP6FUCcW7W8PUf9LlqfJQC6G3HF96-fD1lIIfLAckJe8B5zF9XXLTHFWaCaugbPzCsHlnoJd0stRz5GRnv6ylmx8EpyZaOApKruktiTjzzMKTXOOqeCjxu5uonUMRYQkFQ40UPobCZwMw/s1416/zodiackiller2005_dvd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1416" data-original-width="1000" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLTpFUPaL3JPkc0Q3kcZhD4x_9IJPgEEXup2K1L4K9Wa2tVDOP6FUCcW7W8PUf9LlqfJQC6G3HF96-fD1lIIfLAckJe8B5zF9XXLTHFWaCaugbPzCsHlnoJd0stRz5GRnv6ylmx8EpyZaOApKruktiTjzzMKTXOOqeCjxu5uonUMRYQkFQ40UPobCZwMw/w141-h200/zodiackiller2005_dvd.jpg" width="141" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-zodiac.html">Zodiac Killer (2005)</a></span></b><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpHW076Y56FbqXxAgVocQ3UJVMBmuUo8JVklyn_426jmb3RvhQ1lduCMThCNsQz-PfHY-LSPNEID1PmOQiOw4KwSGFnzQ8dr3JQJ3DnGUUCZ-B5NbQB_ZIdDTbdeBmbXZygeskLtUNYin2MK-T3vDxw7q1I5sjwqFln7YG7ai9D8e7b13kzpWCXew9Whi/s315/Green_River_Killer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="220" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpHW076Y56FbqXxAgVocQ3UJVMBmuUo8JVklyn_426jmb3RvhQ1lduCMThCNsQz-PfHY-LSPNEID1PmOQiOw4KwSGFnzQ8dr3JQJ3DnGUUCZ-B5NbQB_ZIdDTbdeBmbXZygeskLtUNYin2MK-T3vDxw7q1I5sjwqFln7YG7ai9D8e7b13kzpWCXew9Whi/w140-h200/Green_River_Killer.jpg" width="140" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-green-river.html">Green River Killer (2005)</a></span></b><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJOiVs4wkUx7KaasASnzsm2DlkCCzL7cqijji6QfFEU9wkP77cnvYbNQTMRs6LJq45AbDf5IM1s9vqwMfv_guS0kgCoE8BOtMqwS_AMT1s-UhgSv69LQFq2sD7igyAg1C_atYFsZAeaUAQpZxY75DSD5kAo1WmQXvAsMlqKGUnvV02ZWY24M9SS6qNC72/s1000/blackdahlia_dvd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="702" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJOiVs4wkUx7KaasASnzsm2DlkCCzL7cqijji6QfFEU9wkP77cnvYbNQTMRs6LJq45AbDf5IM1s9vqwMfv_guS0kgCoE8BOtMqwS_AMT1s-UhgSv69LQFq2sD7igyAg1C_atYFsZAeaUAQpZxY75DSD5kAo1WmQXvAsMlqKGUnvV02ZWY24M9SS6qNC72/w141-h200/blackdahlia_dvd.jpg" width="141" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-black-dahlia.html">The Black Dahlia (2006)</a></span></b><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXbY6ARJOEyQBCE-8mvv3nipB6WMb-SOQN5DApjeMjPUbzAAUAheA26uGzEJdJD5-oqwj3t488m0CMfrtr9iQiXPrv4RPLFxTATDxPzyPP-EO01d34rwGd9Kr4WUibhNaoujpbJZfeICxlnIhRTipfF6qgf0oarNSMy7B5JdUDISzaM_p1RBI7K_Zi7OkV/s488/killer_pickton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="365" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXbY6ARJOEyQBCE-8mvv3nipB6WMb-SOQN5DApjeMjPUbzAAUAheA26uGzEJdJD5-oqwj3t488m0CMfrtr9iQiXPrv4RPLFxTATDxPzyPP-EO01d34rwGd9Kr4WUibhNaoujpbJZfeICxlnIhRTipfF6qgf0oarNSMy7B5JdUDISzaM_p1RBI7K_Zi7OkV/w150-h200/killer_pickton.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-killer.html">Killer Pickton (2006)</a></span></b><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwEdy536Mbt8Ca7yFe4v2Sg5aBAQMfSNBzNcQYdoVfY13F6FdjFkak-M-OlBcIAeDP6YA312k0qxItdsXgULRyJJNaBjW5S94f1lxsaWZokx5GP2zIPLVpVi3RkID2KL_sgpBVSvEnwb2WJxGdVrMTa6I7UlIwJ6nFxYcYMUrvcUiBOw9qkvJPA4QXlZDZ/s2880/curseofthezodiac_vod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2160" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwEdy536Mbt8Ca7yFe4v2Sg5aBAQMfSNBzNcQYdoVfY13F6FdjFkak-M-OlBcIAeDP6YA312k0qxItdsXgULRyJJNaBjW5S94f1lxsaWZokx5GP2zIPLVpVi3RkID2KL_sgpBVSvEnwb2WJxGdVrMTa6I7UlIwJ6nFxYcYMUrvcUiBOw9qkvJPA4QXlZDZ/w150-h200/curseofthezodiac_vod.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-curse-of.html">Curse of the Zodiac (2007)</a></span></b><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2zz3bCGsy2_hqofy0Mwfo1rMd57aSNxJHA8GsbvsNkSd4UEcqcjNyI3ClyW72gT1xcN_m32e6os3YdTjY2eTS4gsdqbkaEhRtdXtmXRiY5_QB1260S6pE0EuP3Ruz8x1iF86DNHyIoRaA9DpO1u_TwVMUb2azM64X1lywCo7OO5D8DhbEcwEPPSv9NYJ/s1000/btk_killer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="706" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2zz3bCGsy2_hqofy0Mwfo1rMd57aSNxJHA8GsbvsNkSd4UEcqcjNyI3ClyW72gT1xcN_m32e6os3YdTjY2eTS4gsdqbkaEhRtdXtmXRiY5_QB1260S6pE0EuP3Ruz8x1iF86DNHyIoRaA9DpO1u_TwVMUb2azM64X1lywCo7OO5D8DhbEcwEPPSv9NYJ/w141-h200/btk_killer.jpg" width="141" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-btk-killer.html">BTK Killer (2005)</a></span></b><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWW9B12lGKomKKpwMmYVSKe963HysOMbQPKuGo7LVcxsElJ6nyZKTRIibLkUcCNKIjaCCKPnPQaMgYEncvj8qiVKX_SnU74mxAhqE_bFWfqN5n2tqemSqktkV2O8sd6RXjCoVnxP1qyv6DtW31p9aEz7wWk-7BGK5g6QhMXm6pa8ljjW-umjSPAzT_42vx/s500/sonofsam2008_dvd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="352" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWW9B12lGKomKKpwMmYVSKe963HysOMbQPKuGo7LVcxsElJ6nyZKTRIibLkUcCNKIjaCCKPnPQaMgYEncvj8qiVKX_SnU74mxAhqE_bFWfqN5n2tqemSqktkV2O8sd6RXjCoVnxP1qyv6DtW31p9aEz7wWk-7BGK5g6QhMXm6pa8ljjW-umjSPAzT_42vx/w141-h200/sonofsam2008_dvd.jpg" width="141" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-son-of-sam.html">Son of Sam (2008)</a></span></b><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaRaoVRBb-99LwcO-_T70x9h9eMq0Pn2UjeIOoOF8Pg2v1ZRU2Sb50Y9Cd0Fz9fpmWyMv4KfwhjkpYxo-DNIUBZWT5rw2wqqT9wUzeaJsbYN_VCF9RzmQMrUTr7Ds4Mwzi93nxntdlYjcGGWvZZa1l4gxJovBB7y6yWuKodfAo_u5FU0Ai817vIMX2Pkg/s2249/nightstalker2009_dvd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2249" data-original-width="1500" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWaRaoVRBb-99LwcO-_T70x9h9eMq0Pn2UjeIOoOF8Pg2v1ZRU2Sb50Y9Cd0Fz9fpmWyMv4KfwhjkpYxo-DNIUBZWT5rw2wqqT9wUzeaJsbYN_VCF9RzmQMrUTr7Ds4Mwzi93nxntdlYjcGGWvZZa1l4gxJovBB7y6yWuKodfAo_u5FU0Ai817vIMX2Pkg/w133-h200/nightstalker2009_dvd.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-night.html">Night Stalker (2009)</a></span></b><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><br /></p>Thomas Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16564002523015701936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-78497799054774109922023-10-28T08:00:00.010-07:002023-10-28T08:00:00.153-07:00Living Hell of Ulli Lommel: NIGHT STALKER (2009)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEc7RPZ0_dGTriwp9Y37V3vvifBTVc143kdNzj9R8WyiXNVcw4-pPY9UJSM_uu0rRv6kQ7N97zZryhoMitSEH6yVKnqC4WtQr2i2xNb77LvN4p6zCrb0oM_CvbZntLiI_e75OW_tgL2aVi16HwJ5mxOKygIDMdPMRQ4RmUYgXb78acEA8G1ac7XchryNiI/s2249/nightstalker2009_dvd.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2249" data-original-width="1500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEc7RPZ0_dGTriwp9Y37V3vvifBTVc143kdNzj9R8WyiXNVcw4-pPY9UJSM_uu0rRv6kQ7N97zZryhoMitSEH6yVKnqC4WtQr2i2xNb77LvN4p6zCrb0oM_CvbZntLiI_e75OW_tgL2aVi16HwJ5mxOKygIDMdPMRQ4RmUYgXb78acEA8G1ac7XchryNiI/w213-h320/nightstalker2009_dvd.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div>I woke up in a cold sweat. I had that nightmare again. The nightmare has been the same for a month. I was in a room, watching movies that had no budget, barely made any sense and were wrong in every conceivable way and then... I'd write about it. As if anyone cared. I was wracked with pain, both physical and mental. How could my mind come up with such horrible visions? Then I realized, it was not a dream. IT WAS REAL.</div><div><br /></div><div>In absolute honesty, I am really hard pressed to think of anything I've seen in the horror genre that is more lazy, boring and void of artistic merit than this movie. Of course, Ulli Lommel (who loved to talk of his association with Any Warhol and Rainer Werner Fassbinder) would no doubt say that those features are exactly what makes it art. Art, by its definition, is something that is created by an allegedly sentient being and provokes an emotional response in the viewer. The only creativity on display here is the wiliness Ulli uses trying to make as much cash as he can will as little effort as possible, and the emotion that it evokes is something similar to being gibbeted. Gibbeting, if you don't know, was a medieval form of execution, where a person was placed in a body-shaped cage which was hung from a high pole in a well travelled place as the victim slowly died of exposure, starvation and dehydration and rotted away over the heads of the general populace. Yeah, that pretty much describes sitting through this movie. Except after it's over, I can go have a sandwich and try to forget that this nightmare ever happened.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFIU_IElja5j3etPzglpWTdNRn_aixwgRDAe31vCV3w7HOWygc9XmaCUYwXrjYBl5u96Zd_d3bSoA6jWYKqsWaV5rF9dZTokYWYclXwegz3mU8NIj_-N2iCOL-YXdBtcbiRQWgqtHmeMI9Dj9ivLII3Xwnz1GUq5uMU3FjkPLwWXv-BpHxligcWuzF6Jtx/s800/ulli_lommel_boxinggloves.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFIU_IElja5j3etPzglpWTdNRn_aixwgRDAe31vCV3w7HOWygc9XmaCUYwXrjYBl5u96Zd_d3bSoA6jWYKqsWaV5rF9dZTokYWYclXwegz3mU8NIj_-N2iCOL-YXdBtcbiRQWgqtHmeMI9Dj9ivLII3Xwnz1GUq5uMU3FjkPLwWXv-BpHxligcWuzF6Jtx/w400-h225/ulli_lommel_boxinggloves.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>If you have been following our Horrible Halloween coverage of Ulli Lommel's serial killer movies, you may have noticed my complaint that each successive movie that I watched was worse than the last one. It's no different here. Once again, Ulli continues to strip down his movies, minimizing the amount of work needed to fulfil the basic requirements of a "movie". Or rather the basic requirements set forth by Lommel's enabler, Lionsgate. It's kind of fascinating in a way. It's kind of like an outlaw biker making a chopper, except that while the goal there is to strip off all the excess parts making the bike lean, minimalist and without distinguishing characteristics that would make them easily identifiable to the authorities, Lommel strips away everything that makes a movie a movie, making something that has no aesthetic appeal whatsoever. But it does help him avoid the law. I don't think Lommel ever paid for a filming permit in his life and I'm sure he thought of himself as an outlaw filmmaker, making anti-art that challenges the establishment. Of course, that is complete bullshit. Ulli was all about making money for Ulli and doing as little work as possible to get it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Several of Lommel's serial killer movies have just slapped a serial killer's nickname on the box and then Ulli did whatever he felt like doing in the movie. Facts make work so much more difficult, so why bother with them at all? On the flip side of the coin, he actually kind of gives us a half-assed biographies, which while woefully inaccurate by normal standards, is pretty amazing by Ulli's. Sure a lot of the facts are wrong and a lot of the character is wrong and a lot of the setting is wrong, but he uses real dates! This is what progress looks like to Ulli Lommel. I wonder if his headstone is actually on the right grave?</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpWZaCKQ-c9YoExqHibb_SdAwGT8afcdDgoS-wCwhK7UJ7DjldH4bgE5gxXPGTqoe39PaFzPLtwgP3X_LBYFaZYuEfRhemgDBW2V5ol0UfixU4LBa265ntT-UN1lafIQlyHgjqXYzBDKrO7agYboicLcDC_SizsGqUALrLiew4hu9zVRkbNQCdJT_Cs8T/s800/nightstalker_news.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="558" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpWZaCKQ-c9YoExqHibb_SdAwGT8afcdDgoS-wCwhK7UJ7DjldH4bgE5gxXPGTqoe39PaFzPLtwgP3X_LBYFaZYuEfRhemgDBW2V5ol0UfixU4LBa265ntT-UN1lafIQlyHgjqXYzBDKrO7agYboicLcDC_SizsGqUALrLiew4hu9zVRkbNQCdJT_Cs8T/w279-h400/nightstalker_news.jpg" width="279" /></a></div>Richard Ramirez, known ultimately by the nickname The Night Stalker, but also tagged with The Walk-In Killer and The Valley Intruder, was an abused child from Waco, Texas who under the tutelage of his older cousin, a Vietnam vet turned serial killer, learned how to stalk and kill people with military precision. A drug addict from an early age, he started committing burglaries and found that he enjoyed murdering the men and raping the women sometimes forcing the victims to praise Satan while he looted the house. He committed a string of these burglary rape-murders in Los Angeles starting in 1984 before moving on to San Francisco, where he continued until the then very green mayor, Diane Feinstein (who was thrust into the role after <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moscone%E2%80%93Milk_assassinations" target="_blank">a shocking double murder</a>), announced to the press what evidence the police had and just how close the police were to catching him. Ramirez then dumped the evidence and moved back to L.A. where he committed more burglary/rape/murders. In 1985 he was cornered by a few citizens who recognized him from his police sketch and his mouth full of rotten teeth. After a frenzied attempt at escape which included a failed carjacking, the citizens turned into an angry mob that grew to a couple hundred people. He was severely beaten by the mob before the police finally showed up to arrest him.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDhOS4YmYd9qJBXxVQUwteZgLafs-XVQfqXaMIzI58g2utLxbQ3EdbiGCyE8EqdYFIH3ts9YHJtpU2ihHh084yD89SvNm-tGSIUor_WCKZVnj7tFUkdu3Jo80om_KuZqjgoI6fmoCPlznJG1Dk90azP1bjFpWLM9uD3IlRpvzBQ5CLxZjRvCzbVejZgP9/s1200/richardramirez.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDhOS4YmYd9qJBXxVQUwteZgLafs-XVQfqXaMIzI58g2utLxbQ3EdbiGCyE8EqdYFIH3ts9YHJtpU2ihHh084yD89SvNm-tGSIUor_WCKZVnj7tFUkdu3Jo80om_KuZqjgoI6fmoCPlznJG1Dk90azP1bjFpWLM9uD3IlRpvzBQ5CLxZjRvCzbVejZgP9/w320-h320/richardramirez.png" width="320" /></a></div>In the '80s, TV news and general public were already in a hysterical panic over alleged Satanists being "uncovered" hiding in plain sight, around every corner. Ramirez dumped gasoline on this inferno of idiocy by drawing a pentagram on his hand, which he held up during his massive, media blitz trial and shouting a bunch of stuff about how he worshipped Satan. He enjoyed the attention and the fear he inspired, infamously saying "see you at Disneyland" after being told he could be executed for his crimes. It was almost as a defining moment for California and American history as the Manson murders. It profoundly affected the psyche of the nation to the point where it changed the behavior of citizens and law enforcement. He is one of the primary reasons Californians started locking their doors and windows before going to bed at night. So, what better story with which to make some quick and easy cash on, amiright?</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvEKJM9TD1st6JjCTEq3vJ13qjUq2XYurjTbVT1MNUIWg_H2umQwwvgHMCaB8Vwa9zOb3EfTUr0M9rY6SUeGs4PVmmY1k7BXABv47_toNGTRzZ6Io0qrB2HdoD8f7mSVFWp2AxOI967xEfILb-ua8Q7g1IAXIiRC8egdLIpFPBFkpnqj88qJljeFbjJk8/s2250/nightstalker_01b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1513" data-original-width="2250" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvEKJM9TD1st6JjCTEq3vJ13qjUq2XYurjTbVT1MNUIWg_H2umQwwvgHMCaB8Vwa9zOb3EfTUr0M9rY6SUeGs4PVmmY1k7BXABv47_toNGTRzZ6Io0qrB2HdoD8f7mSVFWp2AxOI967xEfILb-ua8Q7g1IAXIiRC8egdLIpFPBFkpnqj88qJljeFbjJk8/w400-h269/nightstalker_01b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Opening with the half-conscious body of a shirtless, leather-jacketed prettyboy (Adolph Cortez) surrounded by a mob of ten people, we start at the end. In real life, Ramirez (the representation of whom, in standard Ulli fashion, is never named) was beaten by a mob of a couple hundred people who had caught him in their neighborhood after a newscast went out showing an artist's sketch of his face. Ulli can't afford 20 people, much less 200, so less than a dozen it is, with the sounds of a crowd on the soundtrack. This prompts a flashback to what brought him to this point.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEREKD1-VCkNM0WuhbAqhGCG9HikFuYYbf8WSlBlU8vq4j68yq3s9hJljn7O3H0Fvb1-dimcSlzhY1FdWCClQQCVzq0FJ20KGODMCWW_0uOA_xrxsnrksAE7EwADtMUH8WfL969S8UYmK6LTAguuRx1EvOKq06gIfLmfC7gvcCPrUrx9cO3wP3PCzaUxA7/s2839/nightstalker_06.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2839" data-original-width="2256" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEREKD1-VCkNM0WuhbAqhGCG9HikFuYYbf8WSlBlU8vq4j68yq3s9hJljn7O3H0Fvb1-dimcSlzhY1FdWCClQQCVzq0FJ20KGODMCWW_0uOA_xrxsnrksAE7EwADtMUH8WfL969S8UYmK6LTAguuRx1EvOKq06gIfLmfC7gvcCPrUrx9cO3wP3PCzaUxA7/w318-h400/nightstalker_06.png" width="318" /></a></div>Shot in Los Angeles (and only Los Angeles this time) and set in '84 and '85 (without any attempt to create that setting), Lommel kills as much time as possible with the clip-fest credits, flashing images in positive, negative, color and black and white of Los Angeles before focusing on a vaguely Latin guy with no shirt and a leather jacket sucking a Blow-Pop. You can almost feel Ulli drooling all over the camera. Of course, no Ulli Lommel serial killer movie is complete without a monotonous voice-over and this is no different with some of Ulli's most obvious writing from the gut: "Women. I never understood women. They think they own the world, with their pussies, their tits, their asses." Only 70 more minutes to go. Can I make it? "They keep hitting on me, telling me that I'm cute, and sexy, trying to pick me up. I hate their fucking guts." All of this rambling goes on while poor Richie is having two attractive young women corner him and take him home to their apartment. After being dragged back to their pad and having them do everything they can to get him to stop sucking his Blow-Pop and rise to the occasion, he jumps up and takes off while thinking "I prefer sucking my lollipop over sucking your pussy, bitch! Why don't you suck your own pussies and leave me the fuck alone!" Welcome to Ulli's own personal therapy session. And the motherfucker gets paid for it! Wily, I tell ya.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjocPiWYpYC4_CIbzSrdNj63Fk9igYOYDZP8Z3fs8vo80uEonFkW8RWmeiWP_keBenw9O2MknxGJ01z4ZmtjUMls-lSviXFiO1xf80qHYfLT0RL54aZfaH9vurPF_idJaJ5FEHiPkFAjvAnLYVo7mMXeeckSGiwBmmOxC8goW-zZjv1HRn5jVYV40adbjYf/s2561/nightstalker_13.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2561" data-original-width="2254" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjocPiWYpYC4_CIbzSrdNj63Fk9igYOYDZP8Z3fs8vo80uEonFkW8RWmeiWP_keBenw9O2MknxGJ01z4ZmtjUMls-lSviXFiO1xf80qHYfLT0RL54aZfaH9vurPF_idJaJ5FEHiPkFAjvAnLYVo7mMXeeckSGiwBmmOxC8goW-zZjv1HRn5jVYV40adbjYf/w353-h400/nightstalker_13.png" width="353" /></a></div>We also get flashbacks of Richie's uncle Mike (in reality, cousin Mike) ranting about committing war crimes and shooting his nagging wife (Nola Roeper) in the face, causing a blood-spattered 8 year old Richie to freak out. In reality, Ramirez, who was 12, was very calm and enjoyed witnessing the murder, though he was went through a depression and had epileptic fits afterwards. His drug use started at ten. This leads us to June 28th 1984, which is the date of Ramirez's second known murder, an elderly woman whom he severely cut up with a knife while she slept in her bed. Ulli really doesn't care about those details, and if this were a good movie in any way, I wouldn't either. Ramirez's first known murder was of an 9 year old girl in a San Francisco basement. He also raped her and hung her partially nude corpse from a ceiling pipe. Maybe I'm getting old and soft, but there's nothing about that that should be exploited in a cheapo movie. Here, Ulli decides to have Richie day stalk a young black woman back to her apartment where he peeks in her tiny bathroom window, then suddenly appears in the room and shoots her while she's sitting on the toilet. Not entertaining, but for once I'm glad that Ulli is showing blatant disregard for the facts.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFV976L1sdoEOBOhDmRKuXa_YwhxbK-NUxDwM1pVLuQkI0aAKtqoMDQfpGP5sRrzlreJOA9kenfbrP0oNx5WCm2Y8BMOeiVQRyUbwWoDhl6OyLs7xaq91PFoLD0Uc2dOl_T7VsQDsfk4BeIYPb0ON3GakNVTijeMFLELd4E6Bfoq0hupQdM-s6Uv7WJJ_N/s2893/nightstalker_14b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2893" data-original-width="2252" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFV976L1sdoEOBOhDmRKuXa_YwhxbK-NUxDwM1pVLuQkI0aAKtqoMDQfpGP5sRrzlreJOA9kenfbrP0oNx5WCm2Y8BMOeiVQRyUbwWoDhl6OyLs7xaq91PFoLD0Uc2dOl_T7VsQDsfk4BeIYPb0ON3GakNVTijeMFLELd4E6Bfoq0hupQdM-s6Uv7WJJ_N/w311-h400/nightstalker_14b.png" width="311" /></a></div>This is essentially the pattern for the movie. In spite of the title being NIGHT STALKER, Richie does a lot of walking around in the California sun, while complaining about it in his head: "I hated the fucking sunlight. It was like Jesus was trying to straighten me out with good thoughts!" Uhhh, Ulli, your Freudian slip is showing. This rambles along for about two dozen minutes until Richie spies a "blonde and green eyed monster" (Elissa Dowling, as a <i>brunette in sunglasses</i>, who you may not want to remember from Ulli's insufferable THE BLACK DAHLIA [2006]). Richie, suddenly obsessed with a girl, contrary to his previous woman-hating rants, thinks to himself "the star of my nightmares... Mistress of the night. Beyond bullshit. Beyond stupidity. Beyond the beyond." Uhhh, what? Ulli is clearly having trouble using his words again. After the girl stops under a small, windy bridge to snort some white powder, Richie continues to follow her, sucking his ever present Blow-Pop and flashing his perfect, white teeth. Finally, they meet and say stuff to each other which, of course, the audience can't hear (Ulli would have to make that shit up!), and walk off together. Which means... we actually have a subplot! I'm guessing in his next movie, Ulli won't make that mistake again.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQB4ivBnvLxrqBdXmIknkk6d9smWJ84V6M8781pdUCt4s8vqaPUmQG5cHvFJdh3eprgJxU7B8dSa-EWbYi_6nfpx2RubUNALfdm9GQuAIG4lDbhndt9v3VjfBlcn0U330cjfpR3E5E4YyvDSa19-_TgkMOl7jwqpchfGpu-Lfg-nPqpesrz-xrKlXCr7TC/s2733/nightstalker_15.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2733" data-original-width="2245" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQB4ivBnvLxrqBdXmIknkk6d9smWJ84V6M8781pdUCt4s8vqaPUmQG5cHvFJdh3eprgJxU7B8dSa-EWbYi_6nfpx2RubUNALfdm9GQuAIG4lDbhndt9v3VjfBlcn0U330cjfpR3E5E4YyvDSa19-_TgkMOl7jwqpchfGpu-Lfg-nPqpesrz-xrKlXCr7TC/w329-h400/nightstalker_15.png" width="329" /></a></div>After Lommel entered a sharp decline in the late '80s, Lommel has had a penchant for major corner-cutting. These have become so extreme in these Lionsgate movies that there is almost nothing left. Anything that would take time or work is thrown out the window. Dialogue, characters, character names, subplots, plot twists, settings, set dressing, everything is stripped down to the bare minimum to even fall under the definition of "movie". In his serial killer movies, for the most part, law enforcement doesn't even exist. One thing that has been consistent is Ulli's penchant for shooting scenes of people endlessly walking around and scenes in the most random of (cheap) places. In <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2015/04/deadly-farce-big-sweat-1991.html" target="_blank">THE BIG SWEAT (1991)</a>, he shot a meeting between FBI agents in a lumber warehouse around a Pepsi vending machine. Here, in these serial killer outings, a warehouse would be a massive spike in production values. In one scene Ulli actually shoots a tight shot of confrontation between killer and victim sitting at the top of a staircase that has been "dressed" with a lamp, a silver box and an unlit hurricane candle, placed in front of a door, with a rotary telephone on the first stair (c'mon, in '84 we had pushbutton phones). I can't even speculate on why he chose to do this (were the girl's parents home? Did they say "you kids go play on the stairs"?), but here we are and Ulli thinks this is fine. Astonishingly, Lionsgate did too. Or rather they didn't care either. Whatever brings in the filthy lucre is fine.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix38G0PRYaKkvze9vxURrgXD717iGKbYtFc8Ucm3xgqdB3Z9o1UbFpNaUT5jPeuMqqY5_sX7iE7rXcvwjYUMQxuq1f6749mhanfLMZCEvMZqn72L1Wsv-VfD2saVLZZsZiW4q-kawG67-FS2GWhrKLRjPDPxCKt5uaFXWRZaE1v7xRqwVCKDE-3VZoYUt5/s2562/nightstalker_21.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2562" data-original-width="2254" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix38G0PRYaKkvze9vxURrgXD717iGKbYtFc8Ucm3xgqdB3Z9o1UbFpNaUT5jPeuMqqY5_sX7iE7rXcvwjYUMQxuq1f6749mhanfLMZCEvMZqn72L1Wsv-VfD2saVLZZsZiW4q-kawG67-FS2GWhrKLRjPDPxCKt5uaFXWRZaE1v7xRqwVCKDE-3VZoYUt5/w353-h400/nightstalker_21.png" width="353" /></a></div>The two of them, Richie and his non-blonde, and some other random dude who is just there all of a sudden, snort lines of white powder and chant "hail Satan" in a public restroom (the same one from 2008's CURSE OF THE ZODIAC). There's your subplot. With this scene used as a cut-away, we get Ulli's favoritest thing ever: Couples Argument Improv Theater! Yep, making a grand return from CURSE, we get more improv arguments that are capped off by the killer (this time Richie) entering the scene and shooting them. The guy usually gets killed quick and Ulli tries to milk the anguish by lingering over a "terrified" girl being held at (firing pinless) gunpoint before finally getting shot and the killer smearing her blood around for a while. In one scene the girl recites The Lord's Prayer before Richie stabs her off-screen. Ulli's new gimmick this time around is having sexual moaning sounds on the soundtrack during the murder scenes. That, and what is obviously Ulli's voice, trying to sound sinister, softly muttering Spanish and Latin words and phrases like "en cristo la matardo," "postmortem" and "post Necronomicon". Whatever the fuck that means.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW426YxdSxrgV9dTtmwNrE9RI6FXU8HBFkgWSkR9555BcILVrfbCovqbsMF7haZGoixSGnPiJK7K3LEGmhmzuyFI7fGRXFAtoyzlTePzgXwETxKK9qnhIfcxrMOfCQTBqaCGECW48EHz_nIxhpvRSIy1DF0FU1PByOsJbppWamG0boYeyOFdIfAx9GNgXH/s2256/nightstalker_22b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="2256" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW426YxdSxrgV9dTtmwNrE9RI6FXU8HBFkgWSkR9555BcILVrfbCovqbsMF7haZGoixSGnPiJK7K3LEGmhmzuyFI7fGRXFAtoyzlTePzgXwETxKK9qnhIfcxrMOfCQTBqaCGECW48EHz_nIxhpvRSIy1DF0FU1PByOsJbppWamG0boYeyOFdIfAx9GNgXH/w400-h223/nightstalker_22b.png" width="400" /></a></div>If you've been following along, you might be excited to see some other returning faces (seriously, there's not much to grab onto here) in CURSE's "piano fag" (Ulli's words, not mine) and "skinny girl" (that's mine). Guess who they play? You got it, an arguing couple! Here Ulli tries to get serious by having them argue about abortion. I would say it's an appropriate topic for the '80s, but apparently, 60 years later, we are still arguing about it as a nation, so uhhh... timeless, I guess? Piano Guy is outraged that Skinny Girl (Cassandra Church) had an abortion and Skinny Girl says it's her life and her body and... oh christ, wake me up when it's over. It's all the most basic arguments that you've heard a million times before over the decades. I don't care where you stand on this issue, this is fucking boring. Finally Skinny Girl stomps off to meet her death after Piano Guy yells "I guess I wouldn't want to marry a murderer anyways!" A crying baby can be heard on the soundtrack. Ulli Lommel, master of subtlety.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEc0Cr8mBmPQknL5o5rLbqu39Ljb4kadydjpHX9X7NjxOQdMnqVp9Kal-nXrEvnYVLycsAj2kCm2f4lwjSNN4qS_DgfErMGfbjpxeQIe_lx15QhcK9FeXZxJ068LVxEiMXeGFc_MY4KsusiYWIcrVaZLXG0hIWdV50lAbGqKmiOjLAbAetF3t1Q2HsMzw2/s2256/nightstalker_23.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="2256" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEc0Cr8mBmPQknL5o5rLbqu39Ljb4kadydjpHX9X7NjxOQdMnqVp9Kal-nXrEvnYVLycsAj2kCm2f4lwjSNN4qS_DgfErMGfbjpxeQIe_lx15QhcK9FeXZxJ068LVxEiMXeGFc_MY4KsusiYWIcrVaZLXG0hIWdV50lAbGqKmiOjLAbAetF3t1Q2HsMzw2/w400-h223/nightstalker_23.png" width="400" /></a></div>Ulli also gets as profound as he possibly can when we get to the "the last kill for me in the city". Richie gets a Southern girl in his apartment and while she tries to get her proselytization on, Richie thinks "Jesus loves you, they say. Then how come this place is what it is? There is no Jesus, there is no God." After sitting through hours of Ulli Lommel's verbal diarrhea, I'm inclined to agree. Fortunately, at the 76 minute mark, Richie is recognized in the streets by a handful of citizens who beat him up a little with baseball bats and then bizarrely stand back and just stare at him lying on the ground while sirens wail on the soundtrack. You know outlaw Ulli ain't going to try to steal footage of an actual cop car! Pony up for red and blue lights to flash around the alley? Pssssh! What is the color of the sky in your world?</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPOZPnUSHnDfEUz34mWXanBv0MOwCVsQKWZzjwxBTpT2jhn0PE3ukO7DeapovbIZtyjj9-I9wv8BNnSVnUo2khubAC9pted7RwqrueVp7F7P5CK7i2-kdO9wefSYuWkv8taZHwSinIGeDJ0DW_Xe7-aOCAlVJYUIAyK_TVRRWlqFkD1osT7-hJN9v4HYj/s2256/nightstalker_24b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="2256" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPOZPnUSHnDfEUz34mWXanBv0MOwCVsQKWZzjwxBTpT2jhn0PE3ukO7DeapovbIZtyjj9-I9wv8BNnSVnUo2khubAC9pted7RwqrueVp7F7P5CK7i2-kdO9wefSYuWkv8taZHwSinIGeDJ0DW_Xe7-aOCAlVJYUIAyK_TVRRWlqFkD1osT7-hJN9v4HYj/w400-h223/nightstalker_24b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Ulli caps things off with a text card stating "The Night Stalker is still waiting for his execution." This is actually true in 2009. Capitol punishment has had a long and convoluted history in California, before and after Ramirez's trial, and during it's on-again, off-again relationship with the courts and voters, prisoners have the right to appeal and make court motions. This leads to many delays of state executions and many prisoners die of natural causes or suicide. Richard Ramirez died while sitting on death row of cancer in 2013. I hate to get serious here, but if you've ever known anyone who has died from cancer, it is a truly horrible thing that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Even so, it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Anyone who is pro-capitol punishment should see cancer does to a human being. The gas chamber (the State execution method of choice at the time) is, I'm sure, a much nicer way to go.</div><div></div>Thomas Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16564002523015701936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-21890236613518307462023-10-21T08:00:00.009-07:002023-10-21T08:00:00.136-07:00Living Hell of Ulli Lommel: SON OF SAM (2008)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAAkORyuykOTGckq8l5iHDhlpSU4bpU1PJSm5cJLwnWoFbuJnrM6bfM8M_X4YV-Gz-eIbb3cIiBMuHsuO8Oo_kWWFxQ4E_jwNAj0xgwtozxFAQjpIVu8N4WLLgUw_bbuzWmjqqsoRou3_JcOCLaBAuxvhqZ9K3QPPbXjIh6EdKGP3lb1RjKGkJCSGpU_I/s500/sonofsam2008_dvd.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="352" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAAkORyuykOTGckq8l5iHDhlpSU4bpU1PJSm5cJLwnWoFbuJnrM6bfM8M_X4YV-Gz-eIbb3cIiBMuHsuO8Oo_kWWFxQ4E_jwNAj0xgwtozxFAQjpIVu8N4WLLgUw_bbuzWmjqqsoRou3_JcOCLaBAuxvhqZ9K3QPPbXjIh6EdKGP3lb1RjKGkJCSGpU_I/s320/sonofsam2008_dvd.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>You know how some people just have to prove their manhood? You know, some people have to run the Tough Mudder, or the Running of the Bulls, or go on to a social media platform and tell everyone how superior they are, because they own a Playstation. That kind of thing. What do you do if you are a Video Junkie? Yes, that's right, you dig out an old bottle of hydrocodone, alert your emergency contact and pop an Ulli Lommel serial killer movie in your DVD player. And if you are really macho, you watch a handful of them. All in ONE month! Fuck yeah! We are badasses! I mean, you can still be a badass while lying on the floor of your living room in a pool of your own vomit, unconscious from the video beating you just took... right?<p></p><p>Suddenly out of his (and my) comfort zone, though I'm not really sure there is such a thing when it comes to these movies, Ulli actually hits the Big Apple! Well, at least it seems he went there for a weekend to record some exteriors, probably in between coke-fueled raves. Still, that's a laudable effort from video conman Ulli Lommel (note that I did not call him a con artist. There is no art in his con). Being a Californian myself, my memories of the Son of Sam case were not only hazy because I was very young, but also nearly 3000 miles away. Even so, I remember it was something everyone was talking about and remember my father being incensed that Berkowitz used a dog as a defense. My young mind was blown by the fact that he said he killed people because the neighbor's dog told him to. I never looked at a dog the same way again. What is that dog trying to say to me every time I walked past his fence when coming home from school? The internet says cats are vying for world domination, but you don't know. Dogs could be playing a very clever long game.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinApNFP1Dg2nWaEgQcW36w01RWDoJnLM0m27pw2IjGLjQb1rG_tTuAPjk5PkIZNHv5DWhmMKlfQ7vViTJqo3_qLoidGTt87VtTP-JvhRPNOA2gufigOOTYcJ8I23zQ7JsjQ41P-oFe_p4DS2l0hWWDh1ZbeYLiYFfns3PagRVkVnFmNkqgxwXZBl-bQONo/s1040/sonofsam_arrest.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1040" data-original-width="772" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinApNFP1Dg2nWaEgQcW36w01RWDoJnLM0m27pw2IjGLjQb1rG_tTuAPjk5PkIZNHv5DWhmMKlfQ7vViTJqo3_qLoidGTt87VtTP-JvhRPNOA2gufigOOTYcJ8I23zQ7JsjQ41P-oFe_p4DS2l0hWWDh1ZbeYLiYFfns3PagRVkVnFmNkqgxwXZBl-bQONo/w298-h400/sonofsam_arrest.png" width="298" /></a></div>David Berkowitz was adopted as an infant by a lower-middle class couple who reversed his first and middle name and gave him their last name. It is reported that he was a troubled youth, but that's a pretty easy thing to say about a boy that grew up to be a serial killer. If he had been a successful banker, I'm pretty sure that "troubled youth" would have been glorified as "scrappy beginnings". According to the psychology experts employed by the authorities, what seems to have turned him rabid is the discovery that he was adopted. After a stint in the army, he managed to find and contacted his birth mother. He learned that she gave him up, possibly due to threats from his biological father, who then left her for another woman. According to these psychologists, this is what turned him into a serial killer. Cranial trauma as a child was also run up the flagpole. This sort of analysis is left-over from the '50s, in which the nuclear family is the flawless ideal and any deviation from which results in violent psychosis, drug use and murder. Personally, I find this just as ludicrous as the stories Berkowitz told the police after he was arrested, which were doozies by any standard. His main excuse was that he was instructed to kill people by his neighbor's black Labrador Retriever named Sam. He also claimed that he was part of a Satanic cult who gave him his marching orders (presumably when Sam was too busy sniffing butts). Some have pointed out the inconsistencies in witness reports, timing and other details that contradict some of Berkowitz's confessions, leading to conjecture that he didn't act alone. On the other hand, he could have been taking credit for crimes that he didn't do, as he really enjoyed being at the center of attention for all the wrong reasons. Unfortunately, we will never really know.<div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdCFAy8auwGwVlvKB9aE5BvZKbGzExpWQGCw-DJLI6KZo5xReNv8ulAGYicWMlIo-_1qs1qTVLtJ-cnQbj4KXrwwoM2X52j1rnci-UzDR_6NJV7vVhv_aFxT9txYgwoZGw_VAqP3_Xl00OJ2u6-YElP8XOGq4gb0VMZ6huqhd-SfoyT7dMaWIL3uOy3gqT/s2716/sonofsam_21.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2716" data-original-width="2212" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdCFAy8auwGwVlvKB9aE5BvZKbGzExpWQGCw-DJLI6KZo5xReNv8ulAGYicWMlIo-_1qs1qTVLtJ-cnQbj4KXrwwoM2X52j1rnci-UzDR_6NJV7vVhv_aFxT9txYgwoZGw_VAqP3_Xl00OJ2u6-YElP8XOGq4gb0VMZ6huqhd-SfoyT7dMaWIL3uOy3gqT/w326-h400/sonofsam_21.png" width="326" /></a></div>Berkowitz claimed that his first killing was of two girls in 1975 when he was 22 years old, but Ulli, now firmly hooked on introducing his seemingly random vignettes with title cards announcing dates (sometimes) proudly declares that David Berkowitz's spree of killings started on July 29th, 1976. On this night, Berkowitz opened fire on two young women in a parked car, killing one instantly and wounding the other. The survivor gave a pretty accurate description of Berkowitz to the police, but Ulli ain't havin' none of that. Here he has a clean-scrubbed, fashionably dressed young woman trying to act like a coke-fiend, presumably after researching the part by watching a few episodes of CHAPPELLE'S SHOW. She hits up a dealer who looks like a rejected NSYNC backup dancer and they improvise their lines with things like "What? You don't think I'm a nice guy?" and "I just want to get some blow and get out of here!" This back and forth goes on for seemingly years before David pulls a gun out of a paper bag and puts them out of our misery. Ulli's new twist on his minimalist formula is to have "Son of Sam, Son of Satan" chanting on the soundtrack. Oooooo! Scary!<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGFh3S9GwhEmXgKypFn4ILB3Kprcvy4uSXFJvlmO4XqNbqVYOygq38qStRt5QV15WodG33LzRfyFaon9QizgREs6ziQ34zZvo-xalgwiDRtBylPaU4zWW06n-repLQQOv2rRWZde6HH1o3a9FKTBGQNJ5jqKjT9orifg6DkNrmFCHEGdvFLK8b6Zy7U_Td/s2246/sonofsam_22b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1256" data-original-width="2246" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGFh3S9GwhEmXgKypFn4ILB3Kprcvy4uSXFJvlmO4XqNbqVYOygq38qStRt5QV15WodG33LzRfyFaon9QizgREs6ziQ34zZvo-xalgwiDRtBylPaU4zWW06n-repLQQOv2rRWZde6HH1o3a9FKTBGQNJ5jqKjT9orifg6DkNrmFCHEGdvFLK8b6Zy7U_Td/w400-h224/sonofsam_22b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Because time is concept that is meaningless when you are an artiste, we jump forward to David being interviewed by a court appointed defense attorney Miss Klein (Elissa Dowling again, this time opting for the pseudonym Elissa Bree, though it seems a bit late in the Ulli career for that). I don't know where Miss Klein has gotten her legal training from, as she angrily yells at Berkowitz that she doesn't want him to plead his case to her, because she doesn't give a shit if he's innocent, that's not her job! Clearly David Berkowitz is a gefilte fish short of a Passover, as instead of calling for the check and getting another lawyer, he just sits there and looks sad. I'm not sure what Ulli is trying to say here, I'm assuming that, as usual, Ulli doesn't either.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiit9YkiZz79WnrwaUwH8cH2h7kpJknI91WwiBIX2VszFOv3PmDxKUGaZRqgrEz98d3LiDc2IMexPI1F2z36khVlCTZbbR3iZ9znyaZHPKF2lR5O07p5u7g3OTq5JrLZYVhu9Tv8S701jrydOxenb_V5vxZrfku1dB_XukNOFyIpXoTcizS3W7O_5JBpQSf/s2236/sonofsam_03b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="2236" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiit9YkiZz79WnrwaUwH8cH2h7kpJknI91WwiBIX2VszFOv3PmDxKUGaZRqgrEz98d3LiDc2IMexPI1F2z36khVlCTZbbR3iZ9znyaZHPKF2lR5O07p5u7g3OTq5JrLZYVhu9Tv8S701jrydOxenb_V5vxZrfku1dB_XukNOFyIpXoTcizS3W7O_5JBpQSf/w400-h225/sonofsam_03b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Also intercut into the random shootings is a "Satanic ritual", which would be the highlight of the movie, except this movie has no highlights, only stuff that is so inept that it makes you forget about how boring the rest of the stuff is. Albeit temporarily. Here we have Berkowitz with a handful of older, white trash folks in robes and a girl in her underwear (the prolific Jamie Bernadette, who went on to play the proselytizing final victim in Ulli's NIGHT STALKER [2009]). These are just tight shots of the group who fondle a knife and chant "son of Sam, son of Satan" and also chant (presumably to the girl) "daughter of Satan" at which point her voice chirps "my new daddy!" I admit, I laughed much harder than that bit deserves, just because it broke the monotony. David caps off the scene, every time as this is recurring through out the movie, by screaming. Just screaming. Whether this is primal scream therapy or klazomania is unclear.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPSRd0hJjYkL4sIz_ZKFAhvXRVYvXFDn1EdYHv2RjtWf_aue7Xrq88TNajiYo7sMixIFYoVY-uuobFMV6brNRbbTZ-GVzdqQhZwIHB_x-OjGFHuqidurR8KgPOIKXbXTUNKFa7V4jh-nfzUhE1Iy8OMyflvOGdrn7Ejl1uO0K1DHLiyq0UOtdjOCBwbqR/s2759/sonofsam_24.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2759" data-original-width="2228" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPSRd0hJjYkL4sIz_ZKFAhvXRVYvXFDn1EdYHv2RjtWf_aue7Xrq88TNajiYo7sMixIFYoVY-uuobFMV6brNRbbTZ-GVzdqQhZwIHB_x-OjGFHuqidurR8KgPOIKXbXTUNKFa7V4jh-nfzUhE1Iy8OMyflvOGdrn7Ejl1uO0K1DHLiyq0UOtdjOCBwbqR/w323-h400/sonofsam_24.png" width="323" /></a></div>Returning to the present (future?), Miss Klein, his <i>defense lawyer</i>, shows off her mad legal skills by berating him as being "sick" and he is here to "pay for his mistakes." She demands to know "why did it take you 13 murders to realize your mistakes?" To which David replies, "the voices in my head, the devil, you are his son, suck in his power." Can't argue with that, this guy does suck. After indicating that he is being controlled by others, we get a flashback to the paunchy, bald Satanist guy in what appears to be a garage filled with empty moving boxes, handing the clearly dimwitted Berkowitz a gun and says "Just listen to the voices, they will tell you what to do." Unable to think of anything else to say, Baldy just repeats that a few more times and tells Berkowitz to hide behind a box and wait until he leaves. This cues Baldy's girlfriend to magically appears in the garage, without opening any doors, and starts ripping Baldy a new one for standing her up the previous night. Couples Argument Improv returns! (kill me now) This drones on for a while, while Berkowitz hides and his eyes roll around in his slackjawed head waiting for Baldy to leave, which hearing Baldy's voice in his head telling him to "kill the bitch" and "killerdavid, killerdavid, killerdavid" over and over. Finally he leaves, there is the sound of a shot and the girl has some fake blood dribbled on her head. This, of course, has absolutely zero to do with any of the real life events in the case, and serves only to confirm Ulli's personal, pathological dislike of women and Lionsgate's avaricious desire to exploit that. It's almost as if they are trying to sell movies exclusively to militia and incel groups.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXkFWQfUXn_VO-0EmGnrPOVxPk64xbh52Lm99gQMj-14hwm9DiDWKJ8J3hnrps_YAez7EBlZkPW_SD2YsVJBNScMp8dZ2PIoGjHCKW4oaEoToN1pgyaybRtkyGpV-0VhO60bW6n56JJUaZou5cUgLkz6-CxK6MfL612slp4-F52y52ATrzwG77OnLpVWl/s2586/sonofsam_23.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2586" data-original-width="2228" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXkFWQfUXn_VO-0EmGnrPOVxPk64xbh52Lm99gQMj-14hwm9DiDWKJ8J3hnrps_YAez7EBlZkPW_SD2YsVJBNScMp8dZ2PIoGjHCKW4oaEoToN1pgyaybRtkyGpV-0VhO60bW6n56JJUaZou5cUgLkz6-CxK6MfL612slp4-F52y52ATrzwG77OnLpVWl/w345-h400/sonofsam_23.png" width="345" /></a></div>Just in case you were wondering if Ulli forgot to add walking scenes, rejoice, because we get those too! Clearly Lommel had less time to shoot in NY, because we only get a few extended scenes of David shuffling around in dimly lit streets and on the Brooklyn bridge. We also get scenes of David visiting with his older female neighbor in her kitchen, which is bizarrely cordoned off with an empty china cabinet. While making insufferable small-talk, her dog (a <i>chocolate </i>lab) thinks evil thoughts at David, such as "I'll be your family David, you can be my son." I'm actually surprised that Ulli even got the breed of the dog right. I was totally expecting a white pekingese or maybe a gold chihuahua. David, back in the police station, screams "he was the high demon! Never leave me alone! I'm the son of Sam!" and "I want to live! I want to love! They won't let me!" To which Miss Klien says that she is going to plead insanity. Presumably hers, because being in more than one of Ulli Lommel's quickies is obviously nuts.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVjTF7xRMxE79UhZHn6q3OVSdJlwZ-wJS6BM57D5dQ6d9uqKUKDz9BwbM85cGsBySZ79fGvW-6l9Qoow_mbbamv8y73LUs4GX2Z8-deNyznmkzvfCPkXzBo50KqVNGKYbcvf4zBWDha3PPltE1Ccf5szt1Axk0cvm6MXq8ag2v275o0SW_XzK2rKGyxXvE/s2236/sonofsam_10b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="2236" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVjTF7xRMxE79UhZHn6q3OVSdJlwZ-wJS6BM57D5dQ6d9uqKUKDz9BwbM85cGsBySZ79fGvW-6l9Qoow_mbbamv8y73LUs4GX2Z8-deNyznmkzvfCPkXzBo50KqVNGKYbcvf4zBWDha3PPltE1Ccf5szt1Axk0cvm6MXq8ag2v275o0SW_XzK2rKGyxXvE/w400-h225/sonofsam_10b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Speaking of nuts, Cassandra Church (who appeared in <i>five </i>of Ulli's alleged movies) also returns in a long sequence in which David walks to a subway, walks down into the subway, walks along the subway platform, waits for a train while Church also waits, and waits, and waits. Just when you think that David is going to shoot her (Ulli isn't going to set up a scene where David pushes her onto the tracks, that would take effort), the train arrives, they both board the train and they ride the train for a while, David stares, the girl (Church) acts mildly uncomfortable, the train rattles on and on and on. Finally they get off the train and David follows her to a parked car that she gets into. Seriously, fuck Ulli Lommel. This leads to a scene another improv scene in which Church is supposed to be an underage girl on a date with a famous film or TV personality and he's totally sleazy. Pretty sure this is a scene that Ulli is very familiar with. This seems to be loosely based on the real-life shootings of security guard Carl Denaro and college student Rosemary Keenan who were both shot and wounded while sitting in a parked car. Both managed to survive (here they are killed), though Denaro had part of his skull shot away and required extensive reconstructive surgery. Why tell a harrowing and disturbing true story when you can just callously cheapen the whole thing and stuff some quick and easy cash in your pocket?<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyrvRffbnxko-zeQtLjexsyDIaaq48OTt3pEUzM6peWDzRbNpDHVPMDH5UAEwLMKjXnPM8PVsERTao4qYe9UJnAwL7Zh9rgpBxh57ZzT9nLLWKzvxNBIJXMli6jEOGzEUOKHxXDjaUFoxOABZ8MlegQOlMu0tRgNd8NgX68IkDUFFvLYBtYE2z9w1ab6I5/s2578/sonofsam_19.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2578" data-original-width="2221" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyrvRffbnxko-zeQtLjexsyDIaaq48OTt3pEUzM6peWDzRbNpDHVPMDH5UAEwLMKjXnPM8PVsERTao4qYe9UJnAwL7Zh9rgpBxh57ZzT9nLLWKzvxNBIJXMli6jEOGzEUOKHxXDjaUFoxOABZ8MlegQOlMu0tRgNd8NgX68IkDUFFvLYBtYE2z9w1ab6I5/w345-h400/sonofsam_19.png" width="345" /></a></div>Lommel loves to pick a couple of scenarios and then flip back and forth between them. This has more than most with couples doing improv conversations before being killed, David's conversations with his lawyer, David's conversations with his neighbor, and the utterly absurd Satanic rituals. How absurd, I hear you ask? Let me tell you! In one scene, the Satanists have a chant that is said with the cadence of a small group of cheerleaders. I swear, I'm not making this up, though the last line is very difficult to make out due to poor audio quality and Ulli layering loud "erotic" moaning in the sound mix:<br />"Six Six One - Tell you how it's done!"<br />"Six Six Two - The reason that it's you!"<br />"Six Six Three - To be or not to be!"<br />"Six Six Four - Killer, he needs more!"<br />"Six Six Five - Jesus leave our lives!"<br />"Six Six Six - Satan has a bag of tricks!"<br />"Six Six Seven - To hell and not to heaven!"<br />"Six Six Eight - Carry all our weight!"<br />"Six Six Nine - Your body shall be thine!"<br />"Six Six Oh - Sudden death, yes we're owed!" (?)<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigKHGrNlMzu9r1EwFyxp_hKxJzYjX-KH5q_or5tknBKAHFjV_3dPcsH0vy8kB9nOoXLaKWwyGJ2qq0Yub1ZiIV6WnDQv9u3AyBGVAK3t5SJ1ewhbQNEZQ6gVLkIIRByrqdqjAvvHe0xQ4Ty6v8PcrwvJFVqznUV4KvvENO3XQSybHgU7r-IIXNN2-M55lu/s2236/sonofsam_17b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="2236" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigKHGrNlMzu9r1EwFyxp_hKxJzYjX-KH5q_or5tknBKAHFjV_3dPcsH0vy8kB9nOoXLaKWwyGJ2qq0Yub1ZiIV6WnDQv9u3AyBGVAK3t5SJ1ewhbQNEZQ6gVLkIIRByrqdqjAvvHe0xQ4Ty6v8PcrwvJFVqznUV4KvvENO3XQSybHgU7r-IIXNN2-M55lu/w400-h225/sonofsam_17b.png" width="400" /></a></div>We also get scenes of David asking for a priest (this part is true) and getting a visit from... you guessed it, Ulli Lommel! Ulli, performs an exorcism on him (this part is not true) in the tiny interrogation room while flanked by cops with shotguns. One cop has a shaved head and a soul patch. I'm sure that is completely in line with departmental regulations in 1977. After the exorcism, David says, "one more thing father... her name was Rhonda Pierce." I have to be honest here. I have no idea what this is about. It isn't the name of any of Berkowitz's known victims and Ulli sure as hell doesn't have any unreleased information. I have no idea. If you do, leave a message in the comments.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheiHGBNjDSgQjkktnf0Yj4okkDuFwYoVaadOVStlZJHqq5TaYyYwjaxLI8rbsmQ2awcqyKcf2uzYkLSEfeZ6OiSEqMsbXzwKyqheVjii-YwrP2raQznzNP0tneWgj6Jlio0XkDNPE1zBhyqyd7EOfSupsCPacKeC2PME6nv6qCBzlzNVod4PS4RCO2JEgK/s2221/sonofsam_18b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1505" data-original-width="2221" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheiHGBNjDSgQjkktnf0Yj4okkDuFwYoVaadOVStlZJHqq5TaYyYwjaxLI8rbsmQ2awcqyKcf2uzYkLSEfeZ6OiSEqMsbXzwKyqheVjii-YwrP2raQznzNP0tneWgj6Jlio0XkDNPE1zBhyqyd7EOfSupsCPacKeC2PME6nv6qCBzlzNVod4PS4RCO2JEgK/w400-h271/sonofsam_18b.png" width="400" /></a></div>A title card with "June 12 1978" appears after a scene where David spies on a girl at the Statue of Liberty while an acoustic guitar plays "The Star-Spangled Banner" in the background. David follows the girl around for a while, spies on her through some stair railings and then... Nothing else happens. Thanks Ulli! Didn't need that chunk of my life. The title card is accurate however and Ulli shows David being arrested near a car, as in real life. He didn't put up a fight because this is what he wanted. The fame, the attention, the notoriety. Berkowitz had started sending letters to the police, taunting them with juvenile writing and throwing in obscure "clues" that may have been nothing more than feeble attempts to make himself seem more interesting than he really was. One of his letters listed several strange names. Some have concluded that these were members of his supposed Satanic cult, in spite of the fact that there are no records of these people existing. He has never explained any of these apocryphal statements and he has spent his time in prison becoming a born-again Christian and likes to refer to himself as The Son of Hope. So, yeah. Still a meshuggeneh yutz.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf4b47WZgDD3qv7hzJTZTJMHCKCKV6bhKxh4tt7l_ODTjYkKKbwJlnw6P22jM_DCnbrwiqh3vtWGTpKPvjcb6zoSObxJpT-8mbF2hcVmVEcpZZjI5RYoZld8BogrQx4ewp7d8ZjcO6hcRto6k5iGyhF9PW-QAVnp1uictuqdpNo0rpI7gWs72vRz2ooBEP/s2224/sonofsam_15b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="2224" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf4b47WZgDD3qv7hzJTZTJMHCKCKV6bhKxh4tt7l_ODTjYkKKbwJlnw6P22jM_DCnbrwiqh3vtWGTpKPvjcb6zoSObxJpT-8mbF2hcVmVEcpZZjI5RYoZld8BogrQx4ewp7d8ZjcO6hcRto6k5iGyhF9PW-QAVnp1uictuqdpNo0rpI7gWs72vRz2ooBEP/w400-h259/sonofsam_15b.png" width="400" /></a></div>This is my fifth Ulli Lommel serial killer film (thank you for your condolences) and when I went to start this DVD up, I clicked the "Play Movie" selection in the main menu, as you do. This forced me to sit through seven (SEVEN!) trailers for Ulli's serial killer films and then dumped me right back at the main menu. I tried again, thinking maybe I misclicked, and it happened all over again. WTF? Did Lionsgate let Ulli Lommel author the DVD? After getting the movie to start via the chapters menu, my pen promptly ran out of ink. There are greater forces at work in the cosmos and they are trying to tell me something. To be fair this is slightly better than some of Ulli's others as he can't be bothered to record his usual, idiotic, stream of consciousness babble over every inch of the goddamn soundtrack. I think that is the nicest thing I can possibly find to say about this outing. If someone breaks into your house and forces you at gunpoint to watch an Ulli Lommel serial killer movie, pick this one. It may break you, but, with enough time and professional care, you might be able to recover and return to a normal life.<p></p></div>Thomas Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16564002523015701936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-59475510252932047432023-10-18T06:31:00.001-07:002023-10-18T06:39:05.821-07:00Living Hell of Ulli Lommel: B.T.K. KILLER (2005)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDNPgthEbwSgJqvj9VBbuVt9JL1weCrcPE5fNSERZB1H8jetRW4DET6Kr4KN8gGRdQGo3zIQ1ZDHDbPsBzkhS4GYQ9yhNJjUsUxVVgSj4cI53djm6XlZ5nm054Mb90Ms7yF3ygiJIMvkHmLNk-QBD_9Nja9aW9meMICQPALo24aGc2rY_gI00mJxCFX2U/s1417/btk1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1417" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDNPgthEbwSgJqvj9VBbuVt9JL1weCrcPE5fNSERZB1H8jetRW4DET6Kr4KN8gGRdQGo3zIQ1ZDHDbPsBzkhS4GYQ9yhNJjUsUxVVgSj4cI53djm6XlZ5nm054Mb90Ms7yF3ygiJIMvkHmLNk-QBD_9Nja9aW9meMICQPALo24aGc2rY_gI00mJxCFX2U/s320/btk1.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>Dennis Rader is hands down one of the creepiest serial killers. Active in Kansas from 1974 until his capture in 2005, Rader ticked all of the serial killer boxes from selecting victims at random to sending taunting Zodiac-like communications. What rockets him to the top of the creepy list are the photos that he took of himself in various stages of self bondage. Seriously, Google “Dennis Rader” + “bondage photos” just to see them. Rob Zombie wishes he could capture something as horrifying as this church-going, Boy Scout-leading pillar of the community. It also reinforces what I consider the most terrifying thing ever in that we can never truly know what is going on in someone’s head. Dennis Rader is also hands down one of the dumbest serial killers. Why? Outside of asking police “can you trace a floppy disk” leading to his capture, this dumbass decided to get arrested right when Ulli Lommel was starting his serial killer biopics. You just know Lommel was giddy when he heard of Rader’s arrest. "One more scheck von Lionsgate!” Nice job, Dennis! Thanks for making this worse for all of us. <div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0AVe4YLltcqE7VqHnToJfJohfgzeLI7U3Dmk1P6tgafWCqQBKvbmFTL1xcdgi0N588_3MtMquKOoc7aGytqzRWeIoGN_oJbP6p0_WDyhP6YZw5qRYQu09J6_QdYScyWp7a18J4elym23Vy2SfNzdZRJfSI_sV-qWah4UtzQKGga8vMlLnPqdavEEImA/s1278/btk15.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1278" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0AVe4YLltcqE7VqHnToJfJohfgzeLI7U3Dmk1P6tgafWCqQBKvbmFTL1xcdgi0N588_3MtMquKOoc7aGytqzRWeIoGN_oJbP6p0_WDyhP6YZw5qRYQu09J6_QdYScyWp7a18J4elym23Vy2SfNzdZRJfSI_sV-qWah4UtzQKGga8vMlLnPqdavEEImA/w400-h263/btk15.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The film opens with a topless woman chained to a dirty mattress. A naked man places real dead animal parts over her body before allowing a dog to eat the pieces and presumably chow down on the victim. You know, just like Rader did, right? But wait! This is all just a dream of news anchor Laci Peterson (Danielle Petty, who wisely uses the pseudonym “Ivy Elfstrom”). Yes, I just knew Lommel wouldn’t screw up the details of Rader’s murders. Haha, just kidding. We’ll get plenty of true story screw ups down the line. Laci arrives at her job and, much to my shock, Lommel shoots in an actual newsroom soundstage. She is told that B.T.K. has sent in a new letter that arrived at 6:21am. “The same time as my dream,” she says. Don’t worry, none of that will matter (get used to that). Laci is hesitant to cover the serial killer, but her slimy producer says the public craves the B.T.K. killer “just like the Christians need the Devil.” As Laci delivers the latest news, we see Dennis Rader (Eric Gerleman) and his wife (the ubiquitous Nola Roeper) watching the news. She can’t believe this is happening again and he bemoans the cops and says “they didn’t want me to help.” Shockingly, the guy playing Rader looks a bit like him. Well, he’s bald, wearing glasses and has a mustache. If you are floored that Lommel and his team got a fact right, just wait a few seconds. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-p20Ovqiy2m5o6Z4d1CbqTOpHFvY2Drvbv94NNXllcRdN7u9-vKk3RBRs2-IXvST-3-zAW5oVqXuj4XhIo_GxRtDknQ3rnj74y7d821KPcqpY261RMRLmBPQXk2D0WfnanRMRnRoL2s7nn_QKcI7WuNNJqUhQeWdsxvjTZYLvYADMbHVhXbLKj7Y6HY/s1276/btk2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="1276" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-p20Ovqiy2m5o6Z4d1CbqTOpHFvY2Drvbv94NNXllcRdN7u9-vKk3RBRs2-IXvST-3-zAW5oVqXuj4XhIo_GxRtDknQ3rnj74y7d821KPcqpY261RMRLmBPQXk2D0WfnanRMRnRoL2s7nn_QKcI7WuNNJqUhQeWdsxvjTZYLvYADMbHVhXbLKj7Y6HY/w400-h224/btk2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Cut to March 1974 and we see a younger Rader (Gerard Griesbaum) working as a dog catcher (a job he never had until the 1990s) and scribbling in his notebook. The patented voiceover tells of his desire to kill for sexual thrills and that he will “bind them, torture them, kill them” regarding his victims. The fact that Lommel didn’t screw up what B.T.K. stood for is actually blowing my mind. Of course, this is all for naught since his 1970s Rader sports long hair pulled back in a ponytail, which is certainly a look that the conservative Rader never, ever sported. To make matters worse, he later talks to his two sons, when in reality Rader has a son and daughter. We then get Rader’s first murder. B.T.K.’s first crime involved killing a family of four, so, naturally, Lommel has Rader attacking a lone woman named Nancy. The scene involves him torturing her by shoving rats in her face while crying he isn’t getting any national publicity. Wait…why would he have any attention when he hasn’t even committed his first murder yet!? Lord help the lazy college student who did a paper on B.T.K. and rented this for reference. It should be noted that this section shows Lommel adding two new filmmaking techniques to his serial killer oeuvre. First, he dazzles with an editing bit where he will show the same line FOUR times: once normal, once upside down, once reversed, and once sideways. Fuck my life. Second, he does something so goddamn disgusting, infuriating, and morally bankrupt that I’m not going to discuss it until the second murder in the film (where it is highlighted the best/worst). Cut back to 2004 where we see Rader and his wife in church. I have to admit the threadbare church set did give me a slight laugh as it is just a couch with some crosses thrown on the wall. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj11BjrJdY7W_R2TzlSRs9WXoKKUrYgnO_3A7zgFLMtijwIZuhfqsFpZT_hvFXBRgiODZ_Pv-9X3MaTV1SbrxLeuEz34QCOJfUKR7zYyA3NdnEMbNCZip7FDgykBpnE2ncsgLRpW8g7kRYRskvBJOm-aMoqHyQcwY7g_gOEC96RI8YL32e8NoRKWDh4zPI/s1272/btk3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="1272" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj11BjrJdY7W_R2TzlSRs9WXoKKUrYgnO_3A7zgFLMtijwIZuhfqsFpZT_hvFXBRgiODZ_Pv-9X3MaTV1SbrxLeuEz34QCOJfUKR7zYyA3NdnEMbNCZip7FDgykBpnE2ncsgLRpW8g7kRYRskvBJOm-aMoqHyQcwY7g_gOEC96RI8YL32e8NoRKWDh4zPI/w640-h360/btk3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DlMrbOpK9EXzeyR2NYx5OZTr7DiexwfLH5io-62AvlVO-XZYZ0Ry5u_O-yHPsVjFLDuS2toKu4EsDlNu_3BHxsXEBKIgpHHaOFSzDQv3KS6h1dlTIzXB1D73JCW6YyzBH6-MpU6ZM-xuvt2ipHN3Qf9mND0ZZ1NL00aAC-E5uMFfO0r389rIePops4Y/s1484/btk16.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="1268" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DlMrbOpK9EXzeyR2NYx5OZTr7DiexwfLH5io-62AvlVO-XZYZ0Ry5u_O-yHPsVjFLDuS2toKu4EsDlNu_3BHxsXEBKIgpHHaOFSzDQv3KS6h1dlTIzXB1D73JCW6YyzBH6-MpU6ZM-xuvt2ipHN3Qf9mND0ZZ1NL00aAC-E5uMFfO0r389rIePops4Y/w341-h400/btk16.jpg" width="341" /></a></div>Rader reads a psalm before the priest mentions that B.T.K. has returned as reported by congregation member Laci Peterson. Ah, so there is the connection! Don’t worry, none of that will matter. Lommel uses this moment to transition back to June 1974 with the younger Rader and family in church. Amazingly, the decor hasn’t changed in 30 years and Ulli does a cowboy hatless cameo as a priest. We then see Rader stalking his next victim, a psychiatrist named Dolores (emelle; yes, just emelle and lowercase as her IMDb bio demands). Rader leers through her office door as she is shown taking notes and cracking peanuts. You know, like psychiatrists often do. Because normal stuff like scene transitions or character interactions are verboten to Lommel, the scene cuts from Rader outside to inside her office. Oh, did I forget to mention there is now a REAL skinned cow’s head on her desk that she completely is nonchalant about? Seriously! Rader tells her that her name Dolores comes from “dolor” in Latin which means pain and then begins to torture her while asking, “Have you ever been to a slaughterhouse?” This leads me to the vile directorial decision I mentioned in the previous paragraph. Yes, Herr Lommel has embraced his inner Nazi and decided to show REAL footage of animals being killed in a slaughterhouse during all of his murders. Given his use of real autopsy footage and pics of dead fetuses in the previous features, this horrid decision should hardly surprise, but goddamn I don’t need this shit. Seriously, if I had a time machine, I would go back to stop Ulli Lommel. Or, at the very least, stop myself from suggesting this terrible video mission. I don’t want to dwell on the negative (which is a lot), so let me just present this screenshot of the exterior of the psychiatrist’s office, which offers so many “WTF is going on here?” objects in one frame: </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOi1_pw2DSJ1qCMQJBFlBpoyaHOME-AupZlFS1DMvV9WB6IugeAkc_yNmMEwbCeEyP2keLVNRRedTh5IXyk5ZWHZRBhN2TbxD7EAd9K6ZYLChLDZkzeLhUTNiSm3Hjf92a92GKs09jbtZYUkKEmS10J5c7BYu6VYTXaQMSZh9R0W2I1b0aj-v4rBo-S0/s1280/btk6.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="716" data-original-width="1280" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXOi1_pw2DSJ1qCMQJBFlBpoyaHOME-AupZlFS1DMvV9WB6IugeAkc_yNmMEwbCeEyP2keLVNRRedTh5IXyk5ZWHZRBhN2TbxD7EAd9K6ZYLChLDZkzeLhUTNiSm3Hjf92a92GKs09jbtZYUkKEmS10J5c7BYu6VYTXaQMSZh9R0W2I1b0aj-v4rBo-S0/w640-h358/btk6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwaLMMDHGethIhVQZrS6WD6Zg3aM6ZL7Kzkj_KL9Qy3WXWWMzqnvCn_Sl_WOX3B5qhd6ZMCRbBpRGoXyxzXsRFhDLVNNhaw72Fn5cEBxhBrXNEd8WWtqp06fLK2ITfsiMSSAOAM-2vU_DY-xxI4nP3BQDUxf4q1pzV4XcMIGpdQcSGkkOkHWtBdQuR80/s1280/btk8.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwaLMMDHGethIhVQZrS6WD6Zg3aM6ZL7Kzkj_KL9Qy3WXWWMzqnvCn_Sl_WOX3B5qhd6ZMCRbBpRGoXyxzXsRFhDLVNNhaw72Fn5cEBxhBrXNEd8WWtqp06fLK2ITfsiMSSAOAM-2vU_DY-xxI4nP3BQDUxf4q1pzV4XcMIGpdQcSGkkOkHWtBdQuR80/w400-h225/btk8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We're then back to 2004 to one of the most baffling things I’ve seen in a Lommel serial killer flick so far. Laci has received a new letter from B.T.K. asking, “What’s my name, Laci?” We then cut to her in her bedroom with Eric. Who is Eric? No idea as he is never mentioned before or seen again after this. We can only assume he is Laci’s boyfriend. Anyway, she woos him by saying about her bedroom, “I know it’s modest compared to your mansion.” Now is as good a time to mention this but all of the sets in this look like they were filmed in a furniture store. In fact, if you look closely behind Laci in some of these shots, you can make out what appears to be another bed display. WTF? Cut back January 1975 and the Rader family is having dinner with a family friend. Rader revels in hearing one of his sons tell the story of Boy Scouts of America founder William Dickson Boyce while also fantasizing about strangling their guest. We then trudge along to our next murder as Rader attacks Miss Hedge. After restraining her, he torments her with his basket full of scorpions, a tarantula, a snake and worms. A news report then says her husband was arrested as a B.T.K. suspect and that there are nine confirmed victims. NINE!?! A quick search shows Rader had only killed five people by this time. As I say in every Lommel review, if only the filmmakers had access to some type of machine that could spit out the correct info for them. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQraBNEQTDl5Omefbp-te9CAJKrbsG-ToVbxg0lgaZRpeD8Nw6FCvmpXT0R8SjsyHItaKSRN3t8LDcZcEQooZmRKxgbunBgm9Rxhp94XpCMuIOi0LRUVC7fHGjz-G-2l25s4898vBlTHCAVfax698S9BZdj_Gx7l3JE9zyQlaaowifo0e12cxqaaUBzoI/s2302/btk14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="2302" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQraBNEQTDl5Omefbp-te9CAJKrbsG-ToVbxg0lgaZRpeD8Nw6FCvmpXT0R8SjsyHItaKSRN3t8LDcZcEQooZmRKxgbunBgm9Rxhp94XpCMuIOi0LRUVC7fHGjz-G-2l25s4898vBlTHCAVfax698S9BZdj_Gx7l3JE9zyQlaaowifo0e12cxqaaUBzoI/w640-h198/btk14.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyIr_RW2rUEkhCnNZsfJIF7ZB_sfwfkzbeIdddyuGfRi8AmZEFZH5_aD4jE7laGLWDAWIsB1IIRq0NAJDvpH4ds_zf8R-reaZ_ITl1lZSrEUWL8W2Xbo-kRwCXLL9UvYFhNWoIFca-57LTlV7QDsaBFphiQ8thvNKZB8cnSNq5mTrOzULhUn0M00t2uPY/s1276/btk9.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="1276" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyIr_RW2rUEkhCnNZsfJIF7ZB_sfwfkzbeIdddyuGfRi8AmZEFZH5_aD4jE7laGLWDAWIsB1IIRq0NAJDvpH4ds_zf8R-reaZ_ITl1lZSrEUWL8W2Xbo-kRwCXLL9UvYFhNWoIFca-57LTlV7QDsaBFphiQ8thvNKZB8cnSNq5mTrOzULhUn0M00t2uPY/w400-h225/btk9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Mercifully, the film wraps up by jumping back to 2005 and the news producer is hassling Laci for not wanting to give in to B.T.K.'s demand to read his poetry on air. This is my favorite bit because a) the producer recoils in fear when Laci utters the work “fuck” to him and b) he later says, “You have a show to do at 6, which starts in 12 minutes.” Above his head is a clock that looks like it reads 10:45 clock. Laci does her report and Rader is watching. I about died when she says they won’t give into his demands and Lommel cranks up a soft rock piano-heavy love ballad, suggesting Rader’s heart is broken. Sample lyrics: </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Put aside these sad, unhappy endings </b></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Tear me from the world that’s gone and turned its back on you </b></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;"><b>Who knows what tomorrow is beginning </b></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><b>All I really know is that I want to be with you </b></i></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL8zmGYL_0qLBInkLO7XIHkt-vTyGn0eV0ZLk77geJicTNhLwws8F_N-jKoNF-zmfJJdmmLgtADGZ_fSpEg3T2xEPaqCnZk5Jl3mWD9t6IWkrhdlpemFUYKLePUrKWyAIywyPFF3ORGuh2upuS18GWdQxIXmqCd55WdUdI9vqMukMyqmmVg4Fkl2dIdLI/s1274/btk10.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="716" data-original-width="1274" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL8zmGYL_0qLBInkLO7XIHkt-vTyGn0eV0ZLk77geJicTNhLwws8F_N-jKoNF-zmfJJdmmLgtADGZ_fSpEg3T2xEPaqCnZk5Jl3mWD9t6IWkrhdlpemFUYKLePUrKWyAIywyPFF3ORGuh2upuS18GWdQxIXmqCd55WdUdI9vqMukMyqmmVg4Fkl2dIdLI/w400-h225/btk10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We get one more flashback to 1979 as Rader attacks a lady in a warehouse. Rader pulls out raw meat, tells her it is “the smell of death” and covers her face with the raw meat. This scene really bothered me, but probably not as Lommel intended. The idea of this poor actress having raw meat shoved in her mouth made me fear her getting E. coli. There is a lot of raw meat utilized in this scene and I’m sure safety precautions weren’t even a consideration. Our last onscreen text says it is now March 2005 and “One Fatal Mistake.” This is doubly hilarious because the filmmakers are referring to Rader sending the police a disc that helped identify him, but also because, as expected, Lommel gets the arrest date wrong since the real Rader was apprehended on February 25, 2005. Hell, at this point I guess I should be happy they got the right year. One Rebecca Schwarz is usually credited with doing research in these films, so let’s toss some virtual tomatoes her way. Unless, of course, that name is just another Ulli pseudonym. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0OuI1GAItS8G5lgvby8JH1RsWIc8YjsumbSsKJJqtqqhTIQuRJzethomU43MBtAVCFQNZAg1twPd3DHst2ef9Doxt5Zmud1NrzPzUQwjLc2vaSyZ4ohxWq-ZpH-diB9u4eaX3E_KRBqNdtj_YCFRpUXKdD1ifggDZMcdZzpxOSHT2P-S89baVBuGjaGg/s1277/btk11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="725" data-original-width="1277" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0OuI1GAItS8G5lgvby8JH1RsWIc8YjsumbSsKJJqtqqhTIQuRJzethomU43MBtAVCFQNZAg1twPd3DHst2ef9Doxt5Zmud1NrzPzUQwjLc2vaSyZ4ohxWq-ZpH-diB9u4eaX3E_KRBqNdtj_YCFRpUXKdD1ifggDZMcdZzpxOSHT2P-S89baVBuGjaGg/w640-h365/btk11.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_hUvTyCFJ5pFtik8L4cw8e0SB8DQn52aLOFR6MnPgP-HfMHgMyJX9QY07f09DgMGMIYVtvBFANGDn5iQGik0VgkUR5W2FqurnkUSQcQKi5t57EQkOQjAUANBFkaYbsLmf79PvHOuQ_eDEzedAPfqYJHVH2oJSwNtl6YRyHxsbkWKjoveB2Jdl5BYScX8/s1278/btk7.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="715" data-original-width="1278" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_hUvTyCFJ5pFtik8L4cw8e0SB8DQn52aLOFR6MnPgP-HfMHgMyJX9QY07f09DgMGMIYVtvBFANGDn5iQGik0VgkUR5W2FqurnkUSQcQKi5t57EQkOQjAUANBFkaYbsLmf79PvHOuQ_eDEzedAPfqYJHVH2oJSwNtl6YRyHxsbkWKjoveB2Jdl5BYScX8/w400-h224/btk7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Jeez, what can I say about this film that I haven’t said above? It is trash. Total trash. Even if we didn’t have the horrible animal scenes, I’d still rank it in my top 3 worst films. I mean Lommel shoots in his “studio” (aka furniture warehouse) and routinely captures the tops of his “sets” or the random stuff piled up in the background. I did get one laugh where Rader restrained a victim and his mumbling is rendered hard to hear by the music soundtrack. I watched it again with the subtitles on and I see the subtitler just gave up (see pic). I feel you, bro. Anyway, we haven’t mentioned it yet, but several of these films feature audio commentaries by Lommel on them. I decided to check this one for two reasons. One to see how quickly Lommel namedrops Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Two to see how quickly something utterly pretentious is spewed forth. That thump you hear around the 5 minute mark is Fassbinder getting his name dropped. Naturally, Lommel does it in a way that makes himself look better, stating he made ten movies in fourteen months while the best his old director Fassbinder could do was four in a year. The pretension arrives just a few minutes after that as Lommel mentions this film was shot in a way to mimic reality TV shows. Producer Jeff Frentzen then hits a head-stuck-up-his-own-ass home run by saying their pioneering style on these films was “moving beyond what is already known.” Annnnnnnnnnnnnd eject! Nope, sorry, can’t do it. I’m out.</div>William S. Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17735697605016894400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-74605150894087778182023-10-14T08:00:00.025-07:002023-10-14T10:50:59.807-07:00Living Hell of Ulli Lommel: CURSE OF THE ZODIAC (2007)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCCT_mEnXnX0cLZ6gAEjn6YPWmz_u92pHIqUXmB6fCo1nzBNBNH_TCQcNvgHKn9nHi9JGqtKr5z7a_G4Gp6KsxjDs9VHEBkt7eKt8yJQZo1nGPxzeyi0BRqD4OLQWew2y5BMLAQqvzzgKKq4BO_uS6W7NQbVFgwgDFivAMNb3OAZnA2m6ZjWUN3VQB7xy/s2880/curseofthezodiac_vod.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2160" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCCT_mEnXnX0cLZ6gAEjn6YPWmz_u92pHIqUXmB6fCo1nzBNBNH_TCQcNvgHKn9nHi9JGqtKr5z7a_G4Gp6KsxjDs9VHEBkt7eKt8yJQZo1nGPxzeyi0BRqD4OLQWew2y5BMLAQqvzzgKKq4BO_uS6W7NQbVFgwgDFivAMNb3OAZnA2m6ZjWUN3VQB7xy/s320/curseofthezodiac_vod.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>Did I declare Lommel's <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-black-dahlia.html" target="_blank">THE BLACK DAHLIA (2006)</a> to be the worst film ever? I'm beginning to think it was his life's ambition is to prove me wrong with every successive movie. "Oh, you think <i>that </i>was bad, motherfucker? Check this out!" You can hear his voice rising from his grave, too, right? It's not just me. Because of the rampant suck-sess of Ulli Lommel's <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-zodiac.html" target="_blank">ZODIAC KILLER (2005)</a> and the box office flop of the solid David Fincher film ZODIAC (2007), what could make Lionsgate happier than a sequel(ish)? Yes, contrary to the normal definitions of sanity and reason, a very small segment of the human population actually wanted Ulli Lommel to make another Zodiac movie. It boggles the mind, but apparently not the off-shore bank account.</p><p>If you've had the misfortune to see BOOGEYMAN II (1983), you'd be forgiven to think that in 2007 Ulli Lommel would add even a hint of the first film into his sequel, even if it means inserting footage from the original to pad out the running time. Ha! Continuity is for suckers, man! Yep, this sequel has literally nothing to do with the original, except for the fact that the killer says his name is "Zodiac," as in like "Smith, Zodiac Smith". And for the record, nobody in the movie wears a hoodie, nobody has a glowing eye and San Francisco is not upside-down. Well, not in the movie anyway.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5XY7VxBz_zyps2YvHsF6buClCNm8Ae4XzrALV8CdUynL38Oxuh0lp3HmkZy9AuglKp2-VrfxPS_C_vn3Hbmy-AnjdzDh6aCrYgremCl79cjoe9Al-cA45yz2-i8KusmiadpGYZxaQUGUPhBc135jr5p6q4EvjqvE3vB1pJ52TtRbIJCX9vI1NfEi3x2fO/s2529/curseofthezodiac_17b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2529" data-original-width="2185" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5XY7VxBz_zyps2YvHsF6buClCNm8Ae4XzrALV8CdUynL38Oxuh0lp3HmkZy9AuglKp2-VrfxPS_C_vn3Hbmy-AnjdzDh6aCrYgremCl79cjoe9Al-cA45yz2-i8KusmiadpGYZxaQUGUPhBc135jr5p6q4EvjqvE3vB1pJ52TtRbIJCX9vI1NfEi3x2fO/w345-h400/curseofthezodiac_17b.png" width="345" /></a></div>Astonishingly, this outing is set and shot (on what appears to be a cell phone) in San Francisco instead of L.A. as the previous one was! Amazing! Of course, that's where the innovations end and we have another meandering, repetitive, adlibfest. That's actually not true. Now we have a bald guy (Jack Quinn) with zodiac tattoos on the back of his neck, wearing big puffy black gloves, wandering around the streets of SF while a non-stop stream of consciousness internal monologue drones over the audio track with heavy reverb. While he wanders around, thinking stuff unfit for a family newspaper, a waifish young woman (Cassandra Church, who could easily be cast in a Shelly Duval biopic) has nightmare visions of the Zodiac killing his victims. She does this between arguments with her narcissistic boyfriend (Lee Mercer). The arguments... So. Many. Arguments. To be clear, these "visions" are typically in no way differentiated at all from the "style" of rest of the movie. These things just start happening with absolutely no context whatsoever, except sometimes they cut to shots of this Skinny Girl asleep in bed or on the sofa. Just sort of whatever Ulli felt like doing at the time. Don't disrespect his art!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9TrnQ2cMH7I4FLxk04XGqVNMbh6wyTQ4tGXFuRTMQV5QN838vreeaJnPXbwhKRN34KpkffM7bruNmZlN5EShCW-mO5Jtkhi2bCbodtBZWmZpZRRyTaQDC55qsNIXDLGU-8Rz2xIO33J2kCwsm_9XLBWTsQc2U1jeIb-sN04iSjL_WomLJYFiejv7dFs1u/s2969/curseofthezodiac_08b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1240" data-original-width="2969" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9TrnQ2cMH7I4FLxk04XGqVNMbh6wyTQ4tGXFuRTMQV5QN838vreeaJnPXbwhKRN34KpkffM7bruNmZlN5EShCW-mO5Jtkhi2bCbodtBZWmZpZRRyTaQDC55qsNIXDLGU-8Rz2xIO33J2kCwsm_9XLBWTsQc2U1jeIb-sN04iSjL_WomLJYFiejv7dFs1u/w400-h168/curseofthezodiac_08b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Since the real life Zodiac Killer attacked three couples (five of the six were murdered) during his short run in the late '60s, Ulli decides to have his usual non-actors adlib scenes of couples arguing while the killer wanders the streets, thinking his thoughts and making phone calls to an alleged police detective who he only refers to as "Fat Fuck" or "Fat Ass" because Ulli doesn't have the patience to script dialogue, so why even bother with character names? This is practically the entire movie. I'm sure Ulli considered himself an experimental artist, but this is so incredibly lazy, sloppy and bereft of talent that is pretty much unwatchable and at one point, I'm not making this up, it prompted my fight or flight response and took all of my willpower not to eject the DVD and hurl it like a frisbee out of my front door.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Z_fDBhXLJlEeNz1ZY_Xl3mYlwPmDJ7GQ5HY0OwaNBq3ytq2Z5cjDpxqVdKwDbjhi7-hN-Z02U6jvhk9E5h4ia3F-UkqaD0BIa02WHkbLeIl04hM9pXJ_TDM7gNPUZ5zIPylKF6pqLWtMlBBHMsdBXlWjHXcpOqVUEZ083Lj8IdTdUV35LlYMpw8oFl_Z/s2181/curseofthezodiac_02b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1242" data-original-width="2181" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Z_fDBhXLJlEeNz1ZY_Xl3mYlwPmDJ7GQ5HY0OwaNBq3ytq2Z5cjDpxqVdKwDbjhi7-hN-Z02U6jvhk9E5h4ia3F-UkqaD0BIa02WHkbLeIl04hM9pXJ_TDM7gNPUZ5zIPylKF6pqLWtMlBBHMsdBXlWjHXcpOqVUEZ083Lj8IdTdUV35LlYMpw8oFl_Z/w400-h228/curseofthezodiac_02b.png" width="400" /></a></div>While wandering the streets of San Francisco, Zodiac calls up Fat Fuck, Zodiac (voiced by Ulli, under the pseudonym Rick Van Cleef) taunts Fat Fuck (Jon E. Nimetz) telling him that he is going to kill a prostitute in the "North Eastern part of the city," which, if you actually lived in SF, would be referred to by it's district nickname, like "North Beach" or "The FiDi" (Financial District). Fat says nothing and just listens and smokes. Zod then walks around some more and we hear his stream of consciousness thoughts via VO that just never end. While scoping out his first victim, we hear him ramble "Hey, little bitch, it's me, the Z-man. Can you feel me? Can you touch me? Do you know my name? It's Zodiac. Z. O. D. I. A. C." Words fail me to describe how monotonous (literally) and dull this is. I could go out on the street and hear this kind of ranting, why am I watching this in a movie?</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB5SNNgRPMl3VAgDA4LJsXAgkSYR075cfU1wynrRqKckpt2WEj_4GqpQCZgGZ2vi2wVmwxS8CEnkeVIdRCRlLYvQqO5mb8Te46FHTqILK6tNt-rEQTdaqAc3QDrc-igNMRh2OKDi_FfMrLMCot0TQQRW48ibUjBjGXSNbSvLYx93Y81gViDqJMxAEJfSla/s2622/curseofthezodiac_11b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2622" data-original-width="1488" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB5SNNgRPMl3VAgDA4LJsXAgkSYR075cfU1wynrRqKckpt2WEj_4GqpQCZgGZ2vi2wVmwxS8CEnkeVIdRCRlLYvQqO5mb8Te46FHTqILK6tNt-rEQTdaqAc3QDrc-igNMRh2OKDi_FfMrLMCot0TQQRW48ibUjBjGXSNbSvLYx93Y81gViDqJMxAEJfSla/w365-h640/curseofthezodiac_11b.png" width="365" /></a></div>A presumed pimp and hooker are ad-lib arguing while our Skinny Girl watches them in something that I guess is supposed to be horror, but looks more like total disbelief. Much like the audience, I assume. Maybe she's reacting to the improved dialogue as the hooker yells "You're at ten o'clock! I'm at 2am, baby! I am four hours beyond... your ass!" This extended scene of arguing ends, possibly because the non-actors couldn't think of anything else to say and Zodiac shoots the prostitute in a public toilet, even though the argument was taking place in a garishly decorated home and the girl is never shown entering a public restroom! It appears that Ulli dressed up a public restroom to look like a kitchen, with a rack of dishes on the sink! Why? I don't know! It's just bizarre. To be honest, the dishes in a public toilet is easily the most disturbing thing in a movie about a magically teleporting serial killer.<p></p><p>After more Zodiac wandering and ranting, we finally discover that the Skinny Girl is having dreams about the Zodiac killing people. We find this out because she's having an improv argument with her unsupportive boyfriend which makes Skinny Girl wander around the streets of SF while Zodiac follows her thinking "hey bitch, I love ya face, I love your ass, I love your legs, bitch!" Deciding to get even more "artistic", Ulli has a couple adlib arguing (about going to a family reunion) and intercuts it with Zodiac taunting Fat Fuck on the phone while Skinny Girl has a vision of Zodiac shooting the previously arguing girl. This abruptly leads to Skinny Girl suddenly being in Fat Fuck's tiny room and telling him about her visions, and in response, Fat huffs and puffs on a cigarette, sighs heavily, sucks air through his teeth and manages to mutter things like "I'm confused". Honestly, I have no idea where Ulli finds these people, but this guy (who went on to appear in Lommel's BASELINE KILLER in 2008) can't do improv to save his life. Watching him struggle like a fish on a hook, desperately trying to come up with something to say for several minutes, is pure torture in and of itself.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC53mQM5K8YlFihod3FLaBrkJGD7vrhDiV1fP0YLqzT85iOhv1JhONA-EzIVjkg6FtZexrj9GFmfYvrwT3mdodqT9ZurhVVJbimzyly44dYYg2uvDU6rW4V6nyJeSVkdO6j_UU246LsFUdGDiQjgeJxlCeiO9fxc6DtCUiUI0ALD0SejImmjp4jFvZk_Kw/s2181/curseofthezodiac_04c.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1242" data-original-width="2181" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC53mQM5K8YlFihod3FLaBrkJGD7vrhDiV1fP0YLqzT85iOhv1JhONA-EzIVjkg6FtZexrj9GFmfYvrwT3mdodqT9ZurhVVJbimzyly44dYYg2uvDU6rW4V6nyJeSVkdO6j_UU246LsFUdGDiQjgeJxlCeiO9fxc6DtCUiUI0ALD0SejImmjp4jFvZk_Kw/w400-h228/curseofthezodiac_04c.png" width="400" /></a></div>We eventually get to a scene in which the other worst actor ever is playing a piano, talking in falsetto to an Asian girl about his problematic childhood, while Zodiac muses "I love a steak, medium-rare, but this fuckin' fag piano fag (sic) is gonna have his ass fried. Once I'm done with him, he'll be praying that he never played the piano in the first place." As a break from this grueling lack of talent, we get to see the Skinny Girl taking a street car ride while her internal monologue drones over the soundtrack, followed by yet another arguing couple, more montages of the city, faces, corpses and bridges, all in black-white-green and color.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrsYi6xDy6TYpA25_0Tl4IPm3wNM0cwXkJLrqBTKWmCZzIlyaSj6hsRnvM1yp-PpDL6Vjh8IJzdGku6QM5TgTmacGb2Q80Tw2a6qm8hpN7Z93E7Xj5B6I2HFtLEWQsBNs-RxJ-bDXZ_qsuf35rC7essDN2HmoS6XxEqQaP7R08MD5nEh1nEpMl5-9TiGa0/s2552/curseofthezodiac_24b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2552" data-original-width="2181" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrsYi6xDy6TYpA25_0Tl4IPm3wNM0cwXkJLrqBTKWmCZzIlyaSj6hsRnvM1yp-PpDL6Vjh8IJzdGku6QM5TgTmacGb2Q80Tw2a6qm8hpN7Z93E7Xj5B6I2HFtLEWQsBNs-RxJ-bDXZ_qsuf35rC7essDN2HmoS6XxEqQaP7R08MD5nEh1nEpMl5-9TiGa0/w341-h400/curseofthezodiac_24b.png" width="341" /></a></div>One of the funniest bits occurs when Ulli tries to do a jump-scare and utterly fails. Ulli attempts a nightmare sequence, which is mostly just nightvision shots of Skinny Girl looking into the camera, and caps it off with a shot of Skinny Girl sitting on the edge of her bed and a pair of hands grabbing her shoulders from behind while, off-camera, Ulli yells "raaaah!" like a little kid. This was easily the most entertaining moment in the film, which admittedly isn't much. And then we are right back to Couples Improv Argument Theater. To his credit, Ulli does decide to make one of the couples sequences non-argumentative. This blessed relief is broken by yet another incredibly long internal monologue from Zodiac, which, in order for you to understand how bad this is, I will transcribe <i>in part</i> here: "You little hippy girl, fag lovin' hippy chick. What am I going to do with you? What do you want me to do with you? Do you want me to slice you up into pieces? You want me to carve out your heart? Your liver? Your kidneys? You want me to slice up your ass, hippy girl? Is that what you want? Do you like my place?" (note that this is shot on the street) "I don't have guests over here usually. I don't get people high, I hate drugs, I hate sex, and I hate that goddamned rock and roll, especially that British Invasion that made our kids sick to the stomach (sic), has influenced them all in a terrible way. Eh, hippy girl? Do you like The Beatles? Do you like The Stones? Do you like David Bowie? All these British fags? Hey hippy girl, are you a fag? You got a penis? Show me you got a penis, you got a penis, don't you? You're a fag with a penis, hippy girl." And so on. Clearly, at the ripe old age of 73, Ulli is still working out some deeply personal issues. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrq-b7s4YNuoPn6jNnl8Cxamm50I4UUnSlL1yM3cJT36wG_SF_5XafSh3KnlkfK3zEX1187pXyYtUsqpihvp4u8ssZzmMQ3H26WmI5PY5lOMu2GgvZGSuY_fH6_V3Rt2frhqn-7gR0vfNg7IfGtb2jRck-8zOTaZfo5D70v6iNXAjAIzKVtN3rBb7C0pS0/s2510/curseofthezodiac_22.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2510" data-original-width="2174" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrq-b7s4YNuoPn6jNnl8Cxamm50I4UUnSlL1yM3cJT36wG_SF_5XafSh3KnlkfK3zEX1187pXyYtUsqpihvp4u8ssZzmMQ3H26WmI5PY5lOMu2GgvZGSuY_fH6_V3Rt2frhqn-7gR0vfNg7IfGtb2jRck-8zOTaZfo5D70v6iNXAjAIzKVtN3rBb7C0pS0/w346-h400/curseofthezodiac_22.png" width="346" /></a></div>I've been going on about how horrible the improv is, but one of the best bits comes when, after yet another couples argument, in a public restroom, a girl breaks up with her boyfriend because he won't move to L.A. with her (smart guy) and is adjusting her lipstick in the mirror and says "Left in the fucking men's room again. Same old story." What? Really? Damn, and I thought my social life sucked. Hey, I'll take whatever tiny moments of joy that this movie can provide. Another "great" moment is when Fat Fuck goes to a party where everyone is doing "drugs" (that's a candy bracelet!) and gets picked up by a hooker. Fat brings her to his pad and when she says "what do you want?" he says "a cigarette". Yes, he actually breaks off his tryst to go get a cigarette, which will take "10 minutes" (!?), leaving her on the sofa. The Zodiac has been following them with his usual internal monologue and somehow this prompts the hooker to climb up to a small window near the celling (accidentally tearing down the curtains), stick her face right in it and somehow Zodiac reaches in the now missing window, holds the gun in her mouth for ages and then shoots her, causing her head to lay facing the opposite direction in a completely different window! Fat returns and is bizarrely disappointed, softly sighing "fuuuuuck," as if he just accidentally dropped a nickel in a storm drain.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVB9c5mGhkE9fRQB-njumRkJVi5v0qzmESZlt38olVu_f2xsfbUBtnPtLoQvi4FkKyPbIUYitnofnk0q2_T-4s7SlyPhlgv7Kv2QsCsD8ot_c5SYROKYUp6DsXbOwibIwc-T2EJeeZawzJHGczlD1zI8d2oR7o4suvNOG_1IJnugY8bgcf51GzCzQ0-id/s2185/curseofthezodiac_16b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1239" data-original-width="2185" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVB9c5mGhkE9fRQB-njumRkJVi5v0qzmESZlt38olVu_f2xsfbUBtnPtLoQvi4FkKyPbIUYitnofnk0q2_T-4s7SlyPhlgv7Kv2QsCsD8ot_c5SYROKYUp6DsXbOwibIwc-T2EJeeZawzJHGczlD1zI8d2oR7o4suvNOG_1IJnugY8bgcf51GzCzQ0-id/w400-h226/curseofthezodiac_16b.png" width="400" /></a></div>After more wandering around the streets, Zodiac calls up Fat and yells at him to "read the book", which *bampf* appears on his desk. It's the magic of movie convenience; *bampf* people just suddenly appear places and stuff happens. Like I said, continuity is for suckers. Zodiac's book is a photo album with sheets of paper covered in cyphers inserted in the cardboard pages. As Fat flips through the pages, Zodiac appears behind him and shoots him in the back of the head. We get a few epilogue cards saying that the killer was never caught and then *bampf* Skinny Girl appears in Fat's room, sees the bloody book and closes it. What a stunning visual metaphor. It means that I can stop watching this crap. Just a few of Ulli Lommel's serial killer fantasies is enough to kill more brain cells than a life-time of Whippet hits.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_o5ODNyD1IEG0Wl874LODr3nX-N_8Vi5iFFbj-baPI201o68dIs8rBudI8vumRX8eW_zI1fkcvIdTjqzUGTDGR_X0_ygSG_lvZzSBg0y9RSGqjwTxCqpSQeenZbhyZwjx6HoKJop0d-XJlmG9qgh7ftyjoecwPRtiyHaQfOZBQWma9pZhSNgl8CYEHVX/s1746/curseofthezodiac_dvd.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1523" data-original-width="1746" height="349" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_o5ODNyD1IEG0Wl874LODr3nX-N_8Vi5iFFbj-baPI201o68dIs8rBudI8vumRX8eW_zI1fkcvIdTjqzUGTDGR_X0_ygSG_lvZzSBg0y9RSGqjwTxCqpSQeenZbhyZwjx6HoKJop0d-XJlmG9qgh7ftyjoecwPRtiyHaQfOZBQWma9pZhSNgl8CYEHVX/w400-h349/curseofthezodiac_dvd.png" width="400" /></a></div>Opening with Ulli's now patented rapid montage of B&W and color close-ups of faces, corpses, city landmarks, etc, in a desperate grab for artistic pretention, we get a few prologue cards giving a brief, vague rundown of the Zodiac case. Previously I have accused Lommel of not giving even a single shit about any sort of historical accuracy. I could have made the argument that he's just an idiot who couldn't be bothered to open a book (or a wiki page). If this had been made by a younger person, ignorance would have been a safe bet, but this guy has been around long enough, he knows the history, he knows how to make a film, he just does not care. Which, if there was any justice in the world, it would say on his tombstone.<p></p></div>Thomas Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16564002523015701936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-77004585858249804842023-10-11T05:34:00.002-07:002023-10-11T07:04:47.380-07:00Living Hell of Ulli Lommel: KILLER PICKTON (2006)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4blPBJVmJfbwb2fmlIsLZzs-nGguyDxSuDNW3yW9uuXjCedVOhinnMlT5IpOReoJnprV2EzybuiECmD1-YCF5g4CZqpI2Tx5IbWCr6Utl0LqYvnKDRs1IoN4za7BZwvHvHoUDchzUamwsVwI_Smb07C4pFsKqyCpNnNcDInc6jCZ6f7gNb97IUpgS9A/s1096/pickton1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1096" data-original-width="774" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4blPBJVmJfbwb2fmlIsLZzs-nGguyDxSuDNW3yW9uuXjCedVOhinnMlT5IpOReoJnprV2EzybuiECmD1-YCF5g4CZqpI2Tx5IbWCr6Utl0LqYvnKDRs1IoN4za7BZwvHvHoUDchzUamwsVwI_Smb07C4pFsKqyCpNnNcDInc6jCZ6f7gNb97IUpgS9A/s320/pickton1.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>The other day something odd hit me about our Ulli Lommel hell marathon. During the first four reviews, Tom ended up getting two titles where Lommel does terrible fanfic about the title characters, whereas I got standard serial killer biopics that stumble from one murder to the next. The odd part is when we started this project we picked these titles totally at random. Tom said, “I’ll tackle <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-zodiac.html" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">THE ZODIAC KILLER</span></a><span style="text-align: left;">” and I said, “Okay, I’ll snag </span><a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-green-river.html" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">GREEN RIVER KILLER</span></a><span style="text-align: left;">.” Honestly, I’m not sure who got the better end of the deal as it is like being told you are going to have your toes snipped off by garden shears or scissors. Either way, you suffer. It is even odder that I picked the story of Robert William “Willy” Pickton to follow Gary Leon Ridgway. The Canadian Pickton is said to have killed 49 victims while the American Ridgway was charged with killing 49 victims. The cases are so similar, right down to the police not doing their best since a majority of the victims were prostitutes. Heck, the two killers were arrested within three months of each other. The universe has a plan. Unfortunately, watching these movies is part of it. </span><div><br /><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlGsd3ZMW2ic0tiOEZzBSApFo16OtS9cT08WfRfJmHWRkEdViakKmZzQ5gfOdajE4SCQ0QjAW3Fy9KT958n19dZ5KT4FIaPtlFx0oQYzS-6Jrinif_qU_KdGnoHcmVdwXjmBVr_e3KdtZJLm5REoUMozG2r9vrrMUhBimpwgLU1Lcrf7AgPLPfk24YNA/s1475/pickton4.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1475" data-original-width="1268" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnlGsd3ZMW2ic0tiOEZzBSApFo16OtS9cT08WfRfJmHWRkEdViakKmZzQ5gfOdajE4SCQ0QjAW3Fy9KT958n19dZ5KT4FIaPtlFx0oQYzS-6Jrinif_qU_KdGnoHcmVdwXjmBVr_e3KdtZJLm5REoUMozG2r9vrrMUhBimpwgLU1Lcrf7AgPLPfk24YNA/w344-h400/pickton4.jpg" width="344" /></a></div>The film opens with some on screen text stating that the Canadian Government has banned all information on Pickton and how it is an affront to our freedom of expression. Damn, Ulli already back on his bullshit. It is also a rather dubious claim since everyone knows about him, but we will get into that a bit later. We get the “film” off properly with a girl’s corpse being fed into a woodchipper and some rather twisted shots of Pickton (producer Jeff Frentzen, who also convinced his parents to use their house) terrorizing a prostitute with a severed pig’s head while oinking. I feel your pain, girl. We then cut to Pickton in custody and talking with authorities. This allows Lommel to unveil his patented “voice over does the heavy lifting” routine as various questions are asked. It is revealed that Pickton started picking up and killing girls in the early 1980s and that he was D.S.A.F.. When asked what the acronym means, one person replies, “Doing society a favor.” This is visualized by showing Pickton put a woman’s body in a garbage can and hauling it out to his woodchipper. Viewers should get used to this montage as they’ll be seeing it A LOT. We then get an extended scene of Pickton preparing some ground meat. This scene just goes on and on and on. The voiceover mentions Pickton and his siblings inherited their family’s multi-million dollar farm. The next scene has Pickton sitting with his brother and sister for a meal, allowing for the film’s lone highlight to appear early on. As his siblings chow down on what we assume are human-infused sausages, Lommel cuts to Pickton’s plate and, I kid you not, it has one large raw carrot and two pieces of asparagus on it. Seriously. Here is my early Christmas present to you: </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBJ1dHQOT4epggvzTMCnuYViFDeQQ8slaU3ckcS_TrthGJO-lXCokNSga2VIz4Mi9gDbaurEPKhxgAtLNCPvLC4pwzo7u2gQ_-n5mgGnFzEKR83iQQG1pZ3oVhPEO4lSzJo_LJSXmEGvtVPbNhTTtWMPVpCRc6l1nM2NlB3A39e01q_6klipT9ujJ_8UI/s1277/pickton5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="1277" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBJ1dHQOT4epggvzTMCnuYViFDeQQ8slaU3ckcS_TrthGJO-lXCokNSga2VIz4Mi9gDbaurEPKhxgAtLNCPvLC4pwzo7u2gQ_-n5mgGnFzEKR83iQQG1pZ3oVhPEO4lSzJo_LJSXmEGvtVPbNhTTtWMPVpCRc6l1nM2NlB3A39e01q_6klipT9ujJ_8UI/w640-h360/pickton5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>The sister then comments that the family business is preparing to sell their sausages nationwide in supermarkets. While there are rumors Pickton did serve human meat to people, I doubt it was on this grand scale. Pickton then wanders around the family farm before settling down to listen to some tapes of himself torturing victims. Another monotonous voice over has him delivering the worst spoken word poetry ever as he says, “Women, dirt. Women, scum. Women, bitch. Women, cunt. Women, death. Women, burn. Women, hell.” Jesus, what’s his Andrew Tate subscriber number? As with the woodchipper montage, viewers should get used to this audio clip as they’ll be hearing it A LOT. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmD1QWcm_oJBYNedFUn9eEqYVrKPxF45OqdAehmIhs3vM6N1hil4bk_xSnDLhP_vSQM0vcWxru21n7MA3Qk13RuIf3Wf0_j5VUaWfxgbmNov79wsltNmprJhDGjdFGOYLsnbbPOle4Rex3n3tMpZykfdtFd8NuHD2XdEganQIm3Ag7nw487XD7EeiA7ps/s1272/pickton6.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="1272" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmD1QWcm_oJBYNedFUn9eEqYVrKPxF45OqdAehmIhs3vM6N1hil4bk_xSnDLhP_vSQM0vcWxru21n7MA3Qk13RuIf3Wf0_j5VUaWfxgbmNov79wsltNmprJhDGjdFGOYLsnbbPOle4Rex3n3tMpZykfdtFd8NuHD2XdEganQIm3Ag7nw487XD7EeiA7ps/w400-h225/pickton6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>That seems to be quite a bit of set up for a Lommel serial killer biopic, so he finally settles into Lionsgate’s preferred “kill after kill” routine. The next victim is shown being picked up at a bus stop and is taken back to Pickton’s sister’s house. He gives her a spiked drink, which hits her within ten seconds of taking her first sip. Damn, I wish I had some of that while watching all of these Lommel flicks! Shockingly, we get a deviation from the plan as a cleaning lady arrives and Pickton just lets her in. The ubiquitous voiceover mentions the cleaner reported the strange incident, but the authorities didn’t care. We then get the patented garbage can scene before he puts the victim’s hand in a meat grinder. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDUIGAjWJPCoI90x_n9-XMqp-5YhwrtJ9gaI4WT3hsv_f1u7sJFKOd_D1zDQ1G252DNV2aVgQ6C1FsBXcVOABpIKWcwElJln_hLg8-GdDTo597bE7jDYiA9gl81p-l1D7imTv27rlSeiGa6_8aInPfdReZ9_QOGVeRna2eEb8W8wFrLrpnMcqkakCc47g/s1272/pickton7.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="836" data-original-width="1272" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDUIGAjWJPCoI90x_n9-XMqp-5YhwrtJ9gaI4WT3hsv_f1u7sJFKOd_D1zDQ1G252DNV2aVgQ6C1FsBXcVOABpIKWcwElJln_hLg8-GdDTo597bE7jDYiA9gl81p-l1D7imTv27rlSeiGa6_8aInPfdReZ9_QOGVeRna2eEb8W8wFrLrpnMcqkakCc47g/w400-h263/pickton7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We then cut to the brother and sister discussing their brother’s issues. The sister responds by saying, “Lord knows he has a right to enjoy himself. Always so withdrawn and lonely.” In rather quick succession, we get more murder montages with each girl being picked up at the exact same bus stop location. Sharp-eyed viewers will catch this Canadian set location with Boston, Massachusetts advertising on it (see pic below). I’m sure if Ulli was around he would argue the utilization of the same location was to show the banality of Pickton’s actions or some bullshit. The next victim is taken to his house and fed booze and pills. When she is barely conscious, Pickton forces her to eat pills off each stair of the staircase. It is here that Lommel commits a rather disgusting bit as the voiceover says the victim was pregnant and bits of the fetus were found in Pickton’s freezer. Not content to rely on such vile mental imagery, Lommel then cuts to two shots of real aborted fetuses on screen. Seriously, fuck off. Enter the garbage can and woodchipper. The next victim is taken to the house and has her face shoved into a pile of cocaine before being chased around the property and killed. Shockingly, Lommel doesn’t reuse the woodchipper scene and instead has Pickton bury her alive and then stab the dirt. The scene ends with Pickton planting a cross on the grave and saying, “I piss on your grave, bitch.” So, Ulli, tell me about your mother. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2JQeS09rSkLj5Ft4U8sa5Ru_eqIWr2aXrOLIwaMUY9oxAnMLPYbnaxQkaU_3aGIP6bXB-NGJKTObHQVjCIZh-iAGgn4FNa6OtN5WVHIBUtCEmArqCNNp1EP0RutEPlZBlOJzPieVLEl92gaGNdXygqdBhVNHB5BLNHMMHXuc-vDToI65H4N9A9OoaRv4/s1269/pickton10.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="1269" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2JQeS09rSkLj5Ft4U8sa5Ru_eqIWr2aXrOLIwaMUY9oxAnMLPYbnaxQkaU_3aGIP6bXB-NGJKTObHQVjCIZh-iAGgn4FNa6OtN5WVHIBUtCEmArqCNNp1EP0RutEPlZBlOJzPieVLEl92gaGNdXygqdBhVNHB5BLNHMMHXuc-vDToI65H4N9A9OoaRv4/w640-h360/pickton10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZHr3_X1NmKODu8IxKu2xVeQ-GfAX_i7FfCzIBNcpiqix7NcIHQ0RI4CT-TOJQuDWnpbH3OfOrY9RJ95EV4_TCPfDqe0VO2WY7_BtXDw5X-8j2RI_Jz0zC0S3asTZasUuYV1BAjsKuxl-cXzhXjM2G4epN9_V_QR85c3VHDw-b4T3hhessT1vSEjD58c/s1270/pickton8.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="838" data-original-width="1270" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZHr3_X1NmKODu8IxKu2xVeQ-GfAX_i7FfCzIBNcpiqix7NcIHQ0RI4CT-TOJQuDWnpbH3OfOrY9RJ95EV4_TCPfDqe0VO2WY7_BtXDw5X-8j2RI_Jz0zC0S3asTZasUuYV1BAjsKuxl-cXzhXjM2G4epN9_V_QR85c3VHDw-b4T3hhessT1vSEjD58c/w400-h264/pickton8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>This carnage is juxtaposed with some bizarre scenes trying to somehow establish Pickton had a good side when he wasn’t grinding up women into hogslop. We see him encounter three hiking teenagers and he helps one of them with a spider bite. We see him pet his dog. We also see him read the Bible with a prostitute in a hotel. This girl escapes him as he gently falls asleep and she places a big ol’ cross on his chest. Later, his sister asks him about the fresh grave she spotted on the property and Pickton says he buried his dog Hogan. She says she just saw the dog and he says, “Oh, it must have, um, been another dog then.” Damn, no wonder this dude outsmarted the cops for two decades. He’s a freakin’ criminal mastermind. Ah crap, I forgot to mention that ol’ Ulli has Pickton constantly having dreams of a woman recording a man who seems to be dying. This all culminates with Pickton revealing that he hates his mother because she recorded his father dying and forced him to watch. Uh, yeah.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzU1ShZFnhRnifJCcHyJSPj2ahcYO2dkm-HdCJ2r59IU3D1BqEF8aEhyIu7OLQU12tYS_pDhiP9RBYye2yx30fiKP74iIwCyGfWMvzy4X6rn9T9Mwz8reonLHz2-3DOr19tS5XCfXps1hWM6liEsqTXbKn-wr0MOWTvai4lHyPHHtagDawfKxf4sYaFtM/s1272/pickton12.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="1272" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzU1ShZFnhRnifJCcHyJSPj2ahcYO2dkm-HdCJ2r59IU3D1BqEF8aEhyIu7OLQU12tYS_pDhiP9RBYye2yx30fiKP74iIwCyGfWMvzy4X6rn9T9Mwz8reonLHz2-3DOr19tS5XCfXps1hWM6liEsqTXbKn-wr0MOWTvai4lHyPHHtagDawfKxf4sYaFtM/w400-h225/pickton12.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Amazingly, as the film wraps up we actually get something interesting inserted into this cadaver cavalcade. Pickton picks up Annie (Heidi Rhodes) at the bus stop, of course, and they go back to his sister’s house. Sitting outside in the woods, Annie says to him, “How is your attic? You must have a nice attic.” Now I’ll admit this nonsensical dialogue got a huge laugh out of me, but it actually leads to the film’s most interesting part. Annie mentions as a child her best friend was the ghost of a war veteran in her attic and her conversations with him were “the last time the world felt whole. The last time I felt promising, I was in the attic.” Annie and Pickton hang out in the attic, take drugs, and then walk around the property before she asks, “What do you want to do now?” He replies, “I want to kill. I always do.” Back at the house, she reads him some Edgar Allan Poe before asking him how many people he has killed. Stoic in her realization she will die, she simply says, “Can you put me to sleep first?” This whole section is actually engaging and offers a tiny dramatic window in what would compel a broken person to end up in this monster’s hands. I suspect the dialogue was all improvised and both actors - particularly Rhodes - play it really well. Alas, this ten minutes is too good to last and soon we are back to hauling the garbage can. The film ends with Pickton’s brother finding him in the barn with the can and the police saying they received an anonymous call to report him. On screen text states he was arrested on February 22, 2002, which is actually correct. I’d totally be overcome with joy that Lommel and crew got an arrest date right…had they not gotten it completely wrong in a faux newspaper shown earlier in the film! Make sure to read the text here too:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQK1tMlFHMddEqs0MlDAml-GQIb32kOiBN6kDrSqux2yXPYsoR6-ZFdvIjrPbUs42PRX28lOK23A7-ARhgJuxI5e6RXglWsvhroshzCQY9K1hy3aJxUOviN-b0L82xOUVDizPEYfl6TOAPVJ7VI7WvMJqtHCXgj-qE5UKbJNObyIfSBuz0iNqNegP71AE/s1270/pickton2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1270" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQK1tMlFHMddEqs0MlDAml-GQIb32kOiBN6kDrSqux2yXPYsoR6-ZFdvIjrPbUs42PRX28lOK23A7-ARhgJuxI5e6RXglWsvhroshzCQY9K1hy3aJxUOviN-b0L82xOUVDizPEYfl6TOAPVJ7VI7WvMJqtHCXgj-qE5UKbJNObyIfSBuz0iNqNegP71AE/w640-h362/pickton2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAa7GpLDOfPMdvunmbAdZP_GfbiMPjf3jO1d-Fb1hvv2sq1mxzxMT2kvsYTrSiXO_nfKXTIi4zg4Th8ujg6-hWXfetpyUClFp4Fel2b_7nnoxmLnBtQ8f7OyRJULSI-MzK5hWS2DMneFjicq5_Hb6zVXlELwVGRX6Hp0AyVOkLdRNZD9WOtV0MP4Qv7c/s1273/pickton3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="715" data-original-width="1273" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAa7GpLDOfPMdvunmbAdZP_GfbiMPjf3jO1d-Fb1hvv2sq1mxzxMT2kvsYTrSiXO_nfKXTIi4zg4Th8ujg6-hWXfetpyUClFp4Fel2b_7nnoxmLnBtQ8f7OyRJULSI-MzK5hWS2DMneFjicq5_Hb6zVXlELwVGRX6Hp0AyVOkLdRNZD9WOtV0MP4Qv7c/w400-h225/pickton3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>I’ll be honest when I say I seriously considered copying-and-pasting my earlier GREEN RIVER KILLER review to save myself some work (and sanity), especially since Lommel seems to have pretty much done the same thing. KILLER PICKTON is bottom of the barrel (garbage can?) stuff. Rather than sticking to any facts, Lommel is again doing his freeform jazz interpretation of reality. Lommel has all of the characters call him “Billy” instead of “Willy” like in real life. These films are so slapdash that I seriously wondered if that was a clever way to avoid being sued or just another screw up by Lommel and his team. Most likely the latter. Nowhere is this tenuous relationship with truth more on display than in the “subplot” of Pickton hating his mother and worshiping his father (again, footage most likely stolen from another Lommel project). I just did the tiniest bit of research on Pickton and the prevailing fact is he loved his mother and hated his abusive father. Leave it to Lommel to screw that up. Hell, can I really be surprised when their onscreen Pickton looks like a first year English Lit professor while the real life Pickton looked like Ed Harris on a meth bender: </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjpvP6rpLW37GjeUwHDqHxXHSI1MPVYArLlI_RkxOanUqhVMumYT0xwpndnHm0JfW0IViaaLE7hFZzk6DcNDSPjWK06mS0WY6F80ay2AzhbLBmx0B327TsZJRQUwEc3jE5mLxekXS7G4K31MChpnfbdMVZIhBrKm-H4P_JHvMlLVh4HQ1XhMTOXjC6SQ/s504/pickton9.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="286" data-original-width="504" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjpvP6rpLW37GjeUwHDqHxXHSI1MPVYArLlI_RkxOanUqhVMumYT0xwpndnHm0JfW0IViaaLE7hFZzk6DcNDSPjWK06mS0WY6F80ay2AzhbLBmx0B327TsZJRQUwEc3jE5mLxekXS7G4K31MChpnfbdMVZIhBrKm-H4P_JHvMlLVh4HQ1XhMTOXjC6SQ/w400-h228/pickton9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>This brings me to my “more about that later” mention. In a rare bit of showmanship, Lommel tried to create some kind of controversy about this film with his planned release. Courting the press, he claimed his film was too controversial and he was pulling it. As he told The Globe and Mail in 2006: </div><div><br /></div><div><i>"It was supposed to be released in Australia next month, but I pulled the film," director Ulli Lommel said yesterday in an interview. "It will be on hold until [Mr.] Pickton is judged and then we'll see."
Mr. Lommel also said he has abandoned plans to have the film distributed in Canada.
"It cost me a lot of money, but I decided that it was the right thing, out of respect for the Canadian court and the victims.
"I like Canada very much; I like Canadians. They are not as brainwashed as most of us, and I've always been treated really nice when I visited Canada," the German-born director said. </i></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSBVsb4Wpc9xzIaXevTEryJx4zXu4YwG2wbXOajoo-sXH5tPTO-B8sXZqUEzCkOcZlt9SfbhA_xlc4RUmPV62cNjQ3fvAL3NkiPevOWZIJD5L8H1i7-YHogFa6nGRaURv3eE08YU-l4SXU_rhUSoZKr-4_r88DLVcPt4e30k00O3MyF-N22mKOoI72bkM/s1272/pickton13.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="835" data-original-width="1272" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSBVsb4Wpc9xzIaXevTEryJx4zXu4YwG2wbXOajoo-sXH5tPTO-B8sXZqUEzCkOcZlt9SfbhA_xlc4RUmPV62cNjQ3fvAL3NkiPevOWZIJD5L8H1i7-YHogFa6nGRaURv3eE08YU-l4SXU_rhUSoZKr-4_r88DLVcPt4e30k00O3MyF-N22mKOoI72bkM/w400-h263/pickton13.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>What a bunch of irritating nonsense, especially for any Canadian officials who had to mentally devote a second to thinking about this film. Naturally, no one cared about his piece of shit film, but he tries to turn it into some kind of valiant and persecuted thing. What happened to the big, bad Ulli who moaned about “freedom of expression” in the opening credits? I’m sure if Lommel were around in the #metoo era he’d cancel himself and then run around screeching about how everyone was trying to cancel him. That lame attempt at “controversy” coupled with the shoddy filmmaking on display had me rocking on my couch saying, “Lommel, dirt. Lommel, scum. Lommel, bitch. Lommel, cunt. Lommel, death. Lommel, burn. Lommel, hell.”
</div></div></div>William S. Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17735697605016894400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-5088358983518936842023-10-07T08:00:00.006-07:002023-10-07T11:55:54.875-07:00Living Hell of Ulli Lommel: THE BLACK DAHLIA (2006)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-w5SnsObh7jZtzLOv1NiADJ_J3LNrKVFOb3YUPocLbMi8X2QJDH0y7FQBAxCzvyC5LxqFzc61rtz_b4byfdMI_G_NOn4mvXGmYMh6OCFdb7Ss07tntl8BFM6XdgezOGlqMEtO_CeL2L_AcAuV89eiyAOfnve-1GnOK-okQXWVh20HE7jF-p_AjEC2pPVY/s1000/blackdahlia_dvd.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="702" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-w5SnsObh7jZtzLOv1NiADJ_J3LNrKVFOb3YUPocLbMi8X2QJDH0y7FQBAxCzvyC5LxqFzc61rtz_b4byfdMI_G_NOn4mvXGmYMh6OCFdb7Ss07tntl8BFM6XdgezOGlqMEtO_CeL2L_AcAuV89eiyAOfnve-1GnOK-okQXWVh20HE7jF-p_AjEC2pPVY/s320/blackdahlia_dvd.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>I know, I know. I declared <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-zodiac.html" target="_blank">THE ZODIAC KILLER (2005)</a> something like "the worst movie ever", but I am here to tell you that I was wrong. I honestly had no idea how sharp the drop would be. Naively I thought, "hey, after a successful string of serial killer cheapies, Ulli may be inspired to invest more thought and creativity into the next one!" Yeah, yeah, I hear you laughing, but holy shit this movie is rough. Lionsgate knew what they wanted from a movie, as Will indicated in his coverage of <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-green-river.html" target="_blank">GREEN RIVER KILLER (2005)</a>, Ulli associate Jeff Frentzen said in an <a href="http://www.searchmytrash.com/cgi-bin/articlecreditsb.pl?jefffrentzen(1-16)" target="_blank">interview</a>: "Lionsgate was happy with the episodic 'kill scene after kill scene' approach and wanted more of that." With BLACK DAHLIA, Ulli served at his sugar daddy's command.<div><br /></div><div>As I'm sure everyone knows, Elizabeth Short was a 22 year old woman, originally from Boston, who moved around quite a bit, but in 1946 settled in Los Angeles, reportedly with the intent to become an actress. Six months later, in 1947, Short's naked body was found in a vacant lot, cut in half at the waist. The cut was done surgically and the body cleaned with gasoline. There are a staggering amount of details in the case, with an equally staggering lack of answers, leading to a wealth of speculative fiction and speculative fiction masquerading as non-fiction. Of course, none of this matters to Ulli Lommel. He's got a buck to make!</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-A44rEHTssd6faATmhSB9a80r5Y59UJaX64EQjN68RRO9mgQMc_JArCGMQcYRt-dH5gdErOUCsjje3ZIDZXEMfohCyl2lGEraYoPttv8KTDy45v7BRB9UN1pr3mGfQLL_aM8CRgtiHW3xesTukPs8nBrkhMAyD6bRVXNvDDL7dt83RRKuk2GRyL67ngG/s2569/blackdahlia_01b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2569" data-original-width="2236" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM-A44rEHTssd6faATmhSB9a80r5Y59UJaX64EQjN68RRO9mgQMc_JArCGMQcYRt-dH5gdErOUCsjje3ZIDZXEMfohCyl2lGEraYoPttv8KTDy45v7BRB9UN1pr3mGfQLL_aM8CRgtiHW3xesTukPs8nBrkhMAyD6bRVXNvDDL7dt83RRKuk2GRyL67ngG/w349-h400/blackdahlia_01b.png" width="349" /></a></div>In a moment that is literally irony defined, Lommel opens with a quote from the Geneva Convention stating that acts of cruel treatment and torture are prohibited. I guess that only applies to wartime. In peacetime, Ulli Lommel is able to inflict the most heinous of atrocities on unsuspecting (or in my case, suspecting) viewers. This leads to the credits droning on for as much time a Lommel can chew up with B&W and color montages of tight shots of a woman, presumably the Dahlia herself, Elizabeth Short (Danielle Petty), laughing up a storm while being taunted by an off-screen person (De Palma?) with various tools. Maybe she's just a visual representation of Ulli Lommel on his way to the bank. Finally as the credits peter out, the off screen person rubs a hacksaw across her stomach and she is instantly dead. Or maybe not, since the blood that is squirting on her face make her flinch, not once, but <i>three times</i>. No second takes! De Palma's movie is almost out!</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Ku-UvJl9xHeWUyXU3J0MmQmKulgx1-XRqIHX4mst1eCuahPu_he57qmSXkAoWkGrY-meodLVLK9fiyrWyXIVfZkKa-7kNQEyU_qoi8bNnNiEiKHfSvhh1o1yv_QMhtJBgD1QdOct3ke9y6DgFqKxQqYOCdR8SGk2S59_mqk_c2KObuY1PblcFtrITzig/s2569/blackdahlia_04b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2569" data-original-width="2236" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Ku-UvJl9xHeWUyXU3J0MmQmKulgx1-XRqIHX4mst1eCuahPu_he57qmSXkAoWkGrY-meodLVLK9fiyrWyXIVfZkKa-7kNQEyU_qoi8bNnNiEiKHfSvhh1o1yv_QMhtJBgD1QdOct3ke9y6DgFqKxQqYOCdR8SGk2S59_mqk_c2KObuY1PblcFtrITzig/w349-h400/blackdahlia_04b.png" width="349" /></a></div>While giggling (in what is supposed to be a crazy/creepy way) a girl in a school uniform and twintails writes some stupid shit in a book marked "666" (going on to appear in 2007's <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2010/05/hp-lovecraft-week-unwatchable.html?zx=734d3f559ae6cdfe" target="_blank">THE TOMB</a>) about how the Black Dahlia represents the number 666. What does this have to do with the movie or the actual story of the infamous unsolved murder? Not a damn thing! And you should know better than to ask. This is an Ulli Lommel flick! Meaning, facts and logic are just things that society imposes on you to keep you down, man!</div><div><br /></div><div>As it turns out, Kate (repeat Lommel offender Elissa Dowling), is an extremely grating proto-Margot Robbie Harley Quinn type, who has a forced "psycho" laugh that is reminiscent of Flipper and behaves like she's seven years old. So cool, right? Living with an old man named McCoon (Johnny Holiday), and so obsessed with the Black Dahlia is she, that she sets up fake auditions for aspiring actresses in an abandoned prison using on-line ads that are unlike anything that ever existed on the internet and computer printed signs scotch taped to the prison entrance. I know that a lot of people do a lot of things to get into showbusiness, but you'd think a piece of paper taped to an abandoned prison might be a bit of a red flag.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75W7Ue8ZbXJOLHtPGi3fI6omzlLRXNxNwWmLp1DwMWfkueJyAE5JER8l3ONqToAVbFlhVya2hJxK0wDA6Xsl163GSaDgdesNtvdqzM5gzABwTVxGfI2ckPQTYWe9BN6d-jG4hT54wmHdIlR6ia3fKBJHymBtv0N9tMReEYVh7LKIMwfxNW2H_1wz3A0wt/s2238/blackdahlia_05.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="2238" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75W7Ue8ZbXJOLHtPGi3fI6omzlLRXNxNwWmLp1DwMWfkueJyAE5JER8l3ONqToAVbFlhVya2hJxK0wDA6Xsl163GSaDgdesNtvdqzM5gzABwTVxGfI2ckPQTYWe9BN6d-jG4hT54wmHdIlR6ia3fKBJHymBtv0N9tMReEYVh7LKIMwfxNW2H_1wz3A0wt/w400-h225/blackdahlia_05.png" width="400" /></a></div>This is all a set-up to get aspiring actresses to come and audition in a prison cell with two flabby, mute dudes in costumes that appear to be items salvaged out of the Goodwill's dumpster. Apparently this bait n' switch works, as after luring in her first actress, she is tied down, sliced, stabbed and eventually dismembered. I know what you are thinking, you're thinking "hey, this means at least it's got some gore effects," right? Wrong! You forget who we are talking about here. This is Ulli Lommel and he ain't going to spend no damn money on effects when it could go into his pocket! Yep, it's mostly a lot of screaming, shakey-cam, smash-cuts and a few ounces of cheap stage blood splashed around and Kate jumping up and down, "crazy" laughing like she's trying to emulate the characters in a Rob Zombie movie. Joy. Because Ulli has to make his usual allusions of the military being the same as serial killers, we get strobe edits of Kate, in a camo fatigue t-shirt and cap, marching in place and doing push-ups edited in. It's every bit as fun as it sounds.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQf4KDpd_oNvKhKuhxqm54c2WVr90bQiqP8PcGwcLFo-GWOan5K8dbzPM_-P8Gmqth-NJKN32FkTwqGg8jJWEbFDqFXRxTA1S70ZdWekufs4d7ie7uJ6ymc-aExRyt0VO5Agdo7bE4Y8ayWfoXByFyI0DBrwVn53icK_hpf9DMYyT7Fan3Jof59QNY_uS/s2243/blackdahlia_16.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1257" data-original-width="2243" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQf4KDpd_oNvKhKuhxqm54c2WVr90bQiqP8PcGwcLFo-GWOan5K8dbzPM_-P8Gmqth-NJKN32FkTwqGg8jJWEbFDqFXRxTA1S70ZdWekufs4d7ie7uJ6ymc-aExRyt0VO5Agdo7bE4Y8ayWfoXByFyI0DBrwVn53icK_hpf9DMYyT7Fan3Jof59QNY_uS/w400-h224/blackdahlia_16.png" width="400" /></a></div>Of course this leads to Kate and her boys to leave cling-film wrapped body parts in an alley for the cops to find. Apparently there isn't much for LAPD's homicide department to do, so there are no less than six plainclothes detectives on the case, including the Police Captain (producer of all of these serial killer quickies, Nola Roeper) who shows up in order to ramble about how great it is to have bangers and mash for breakfast and how she met some guru who did nothing but sip water and look at the sun all day. If that is Ulli being autobiographical, this movie suddenly makes sense. At one point, in a later, nearly identical discovery scene, one of the detectives actually says that this "has the same M.O. as the Hillside Strangler!" WHAT?! Ulli drops the mic and exits stage left. The M.O. of the serial killer is in the fucking name, man! Hillside Strangler means that people were strangled in the Hillside area! It's not that hard! I mean, there's not giving a shit, and then there is mindblowing, next-level not giving a shit. Ulli does not skimp on this.</div><div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwIPcdcd23r8GEa6caosR7Zg9F5SQPsAFKy2U3dtXcCkFb6ctr84eLYmLgozSXesGMiVAzE1i17tZaicDPVyL9LZslwZfXUEpRcJff2DmYY5UNY7suhVE06fum_eaGHMmithzPw_fNNDmfUSp8bBkn0Fg7XcfaCK2uHyXkfiUsGpfT8RObgfkGeuVZg8u/s2238/blackdahlia_06.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="2238" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkwIPcdcd23r8GEa6caosR7Zg9F5SQPsAFKy2U3dtXcCkFb6ctr84eLYmLgozSXesGMiVAzE1i17tZaicDPVyL9LZslwZfXUEpRcJff2DmYY5UNY7suhVE06fum_eaGHMmithzPw_fNNDmfUSp8bBkn0Fg7XcfaCK2uHyXkfiUsGpfT8RObgfkGeuVZg8u/w400-h225/blackdahlia_06.png" width="400" /></a></div>The movie is mostly just these two sequences, casting call murders and cops talking, repeated over and over. Kate lures in an actress, the boys kill her, they dance to old music, dump the body parts in an alley, cut to the cops standing around a bunch of cellophane-wrapped body parts mumbling about nothing. Presumably the body parts are wrapped so that we can't see that they are the same couple of Spirit Store pieces and a Sunday roast. In order to pad out the movie's running time, Lommel uses black and white inserts of Short laughing during very small parties in a very small rooms with an uncredited Tony Bennett on the soundtrack. This is an odd choice as Tony Bennett returned from WWII in 1946, but didn't have any recorded music until 1949. Oh wait, this Ulli Lommel is we're talking about here. No fucks are given or implied.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7ct-66ebG96lt11cny5IWHIqvg9ofrPZFMLghVkBK7NV1foR0zt-xid1qwCAk9bSFmYSytHIPsFBnyH0UjBIJA1dCTbi1LIHElyLjVMbllSCCScWFPYq1b3m1xp8VC0aexktLHeUNT29kM1w8rsQ13j_tiIqzPxq4KPXgDWSNYjYBw-6N33oF0wiZOvU/s2569/blackdahlia_09b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2569" data-original-width="2236" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7ct-66ebG96lt11cny5IWHIqvg9ofrPZFMLghVkBK7NV1foR0zt-xid1qwCAk9bSFmYSytHIPsFBnyH0UjBIJA1dCTbi1LIHElyLjVMbllSCCScWFPYq1b3m1xp8VC0aexktLHeUNT29kM1w8rsQ13j_tiIqzPxq4KPXgDWSNYjYBw-6N33oF0wiZOvU/w349-h400/blackdahlia_09b.png" width="349" /></a></div>Also breaking up the monotony is one of the most rapidly promoted cops in history, 20 year old Kevin (no idea who this guy is, the credits don't list character names). Kevin, like all kids of his generation goes on the internet to find things out. He finds out that the oldest living suspect in the Black Dahlia case is this a fossil named McCoon, a producer who was going to cast Short in a movie before she died. So his hunch tells him that this guy - again, the only living guy who was ever on a suspect list of over 600 people - is, extremely conveniently, the killer. Because he is a cop, he gets McCoon's address and just knocks on his door. Pretending to be a Black Dahlia obsessed fan, he talks to McCoon and Kate (their relationship is never established or even hinted at) about McCoon's memories of the case in bland, vague way that feels, like all of the dialogue, flatly improvised. Thankfully, Ulli isn't one of those pretentious SOV movie guys who thinks that their POS is profound because it runs three hours long. Oh, don't get me wrong, he's pretentious, but not <i>that </i>kind of pretentious. Credit where due, I guess.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilkNWS8jv9OQTnnwLxpHdwddxRmqYgPjgL85yjn00yOkvWyw5oujAUKi11hEbi8j5zp7rfctVGAwEJf9R3SBlGlo7GAgWKKn0bGCWC7jw5cgI7Dh0fggUAy7GGuqVCIayh5b3l31_A9S8rwbTebsi8puxi5G5nAbVoj_BU338Ml_YENHG5DCvEAaUmew6g/s2569/blackdahlia_17b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2569" data-original-width="2236" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilkNWS8jv9OQTnnwLxpHdwddxRmqYgPjgL85yjn00yOkvWyw5oujAUKi11hEbi8j5zp7rfctVGAwEJf9R3SBlGlo7GAgWKKn0bGCWC7jw5cgI7Dh0fggUAy7GGuqVCIayh5b3l31_A9S8rwbTebsi8puxi5G5nAbVoj_BU338Ml_YENHG5DCvEAaUmew6g/w349-h400/blackdahlia_17b.png" width="349" /></a></div>Kevin's internet sleuthing leads him to find a casting call for Black Dahlia auditions and decides to go to the suspected serial killer's lair without any back-up. There's a reason kids aren't promoted to detective right out of high school. Again, very conveniently, Kate gets McCoon to shuffle over to the prison on the double to meet this dead ringer for The Black Dahlia. Even though Kevin has a gun and the drop on the room full of the killers, he manages to bungle the whole thing, get tied down and is slightly tortured while his passed-out drunk partner finds out where he is via a beeper message. McDrunk drunk-drives / stumbles his way to the scene of the crime... so that he can bust the criminals. I have no idea what Ulli was going for here. The alleged partner is some detective who is always shown on the sidelines of the police alleyway sequences drinking from a hip flask. At the end of the movie, he chugs an entire bottle before vomiting and passing out on the street and being awoken by his beeper which gives him the address to find Kevin. I assume this just another one of Ulli's flailing, shallow attacks on authority, done with all of the finesse of a "Fuck the Police" sticker. Don't get me wrong, the real life cops on most of these serial killer cases give about as much of a shit about police work as Ulli does about making movies, but still. The drunken detective arrives with backup and arrests everyone. "But what about Detective Kevin," I hear you cry! Uhhh, he's dead... maybe? As the arrests are being made, Ulli intercuts b&w and color strobe shots of Kevin embracing the last actress who was auditioning for Black Dahlia and there's a shot of a cemetery thrown in, then McDrunk checks Kevin's pulse and the credits roll. Maybe Ulli was thinking sequel, or maybe he was trying desperately to be artistically ambiguous. Neither happen.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipsCtSH2SAG8pbs57He7WFcmE2sZy1pj1o-f_eIlYRnzUBQMIlv2_cr_uOlVoYw2sCf1ryOnHMv9pne6-xRSfwJyuVVjYBGaIf_ulx1InvxbTH2w2dMhs80S403c13g-EQx1e08mI-tTCMj7NU9lBroAlJAY8cTJhfA9SYRQ-FTVmlZkmykVdY7mTydU3z/s2233/blackdahlia_15b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1396" data-original-width="2233" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipsCtSH2SAG8pbs57He7WFcmE2sZy1pj1o-f_eIlYRnzUBQMIlv2_cr_uOlVoYw2sCf1ryOnHMv9pne6-xRSfwJyuVVjYBGaIf_ulx1InvxbTH2w2dMhs80S403c13g-EQx1e08mI-tTCMj7NU9lBroAlJAY8cTJhfA9SYRQ-FTVmlZkmykVdY7mTydU3z/w400-h250/blackdahlia_15b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Lommel has many pretentions of grandeur with TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE (1974) and SEVEN (1995) style blown-out brightness, strobing, smash edits, oblique angles, etc. All of this is completely undercut by the utter lack of substance or talent. You could make a movie that is all style and no substance, it's an oft relied on trait in the world of horror movies, but you need to have a cinematic visual style, not a video camera pastiche. It also helps to at least have some sort of grasp of the subject matter. Honestly, if Ulli had made the monumental effort to try to do the entire thing as a black and white period piece (which he still would have gotten wrong) and actually tried telling the story of the Black Dahlia, I might have to give him a little credit, but he just does not care.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tJKyFxAf0ffX_24AbEJOwQVP36x-w6SRmblEQfJE58pu5iusCM7KTp2F_phFYftbSmzoxQ38spah9_-BYkG-tGQrZwxxArmFyZMlAzZWb0N8UdEr0r2qi_QcYjXJqsbts5xWjOjLMGq8_Qon_hwvXNKuikIGbgOjJUMQ0zyPaa_pVu_tEJ1Nfm3yuPap/s1042/blackdahlia_nf.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="1042" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-tJKyFxAf0ffX_24AbEJOwQVP36x-w6SRmblEQfJE58pu5iusCM7KTp2F_phFYftbSmzoxQ38spah9_-BYkG-tGQrZwxxArmFyZMlAzZWb0N8UdEr0r2qi_QcYjXJqsbts5xWjOjLMGq8_Qon_hwvXNKuikIGbgOjJUMQ0zyPaa_pVu_tEJ1Nfm3yuPap/w400-h228/blackdahlia_nf.png" width="400" /></a></div>Even though I have no evidence to back this up, I'm guessing that Ulli Lommel read about DePalma optioning the 1987 James Ellroy novel "The Black Dahlia" and decided to cash in on the name since, hey, it's a news story and he doesn't even have to use <i>any </i>of the actual people and facts, so it won't cost him a dime! In a sick, perverted way, I kind of have to admire the cold-blooded avarice that drives his "filmmaking" career. De Palma's BLACK DAHLIA was first released to theaters in August of 2006 in Japan. Lommel's BLACK DAHLIA was dumped to video in October of 2006. Since Ulli's movie appears to have been shot in about a week, it is entirely possible that he may have decided to cash in after the promotional material for De Palma's film started. Either way, his goal was to cash in on the free publicity and it worked so well that he managed to reel in suckers who actually thought that they were renting the theatrical film! Say what you want about the De Palma film, but even though it sucks, it comes nowhere near the absolute abyssal depths of cynical, consumer-gouging movie making as Ulli Lomell's mindless rotgut.<p></p></div>Thomas Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16564002523015701936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-88985428443571086342023-10-04T05:30:00.003-07:002023-10-04T08:57:40.189-07:00Living Hell of Ulli Lommel: GREEN RIVER KILLER (2005)<p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5xLHhq56cBzfmxSJZsoGYkeuwNt8Jxqh-R9wSW5CHsfvfMtSCX5M-g1BvKNKjok-KfjQHOZQOR5OFW7FwoAriiYpp9W2U_HkF05G3wcGV078llZKCYc7Nkded9Is3NIRrOHWmQ8fDdEiehC-OmlyLurmAPXG2kISOG97t4v-WY9ViGmu1dgtSjaqrmWY/s1224/grk1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="921" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5xLHhq56cBzfmxSJZsoGYkeuwNt8Jxqh-R9wSW5CHsfvfMtSCX5M-g1BvKNKjok-KfjQHOZQOR5OFW7FwoAriiYpp9W2U_HkF05G3wcGV078llZKCYc7Nkded9Is3NIRrOHWmQ8fDdEiehC-OmlyLurmAPXG2kISOG97t4v-WY9ViGmu1dgtSjaqrmWY/s320/grk1.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>It all started with a simple email from Tom titled “Seen this one?” In the message was a link to Ulli Lommel’s NIGHTSTALKER (2007). I replied that - shockingly - I had not seen this film but I was aware of it and Lommel’s serial killer movie spree that took place from 2005-2010. Sadly, the next day I sealed my fate when I wrote Tom again and said we should totally use Lommel’s late career resurgence as the theme for some October reviews. Your honor, I plead insanity. Even though I knew how far Lommel had fallen as I was still recovering from being burned by RETURN OF THE BOOGEYMAN (1994) and <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2010/05/hp-lovecraft-week-unwatchable.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">THE TOMB (2007)</span></a>, I honestly didn’t know it was going to be this bad. Yes, just like hell, there are levels to this shit and we’re hanging out at the final one. Don’t believe me? Well, allow me to explain. <p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX4MMDPYaJ1WEr7ppcqmCi7trJsMwrqjuypKvr9n_ZCa5t3xsCcpR615S6nrD-IWalhQeUs0PNlfbAp4AVmTMcSDsfjGuj4JXTZfGcD3nh_s-MUAjTvHRpGIWFQip9zUIZVhYQUg_tWrxdOTeXfMf4QjTJ6Zy_CAZpfA_BILn7SsNsPO0B2QJXcJg0Zks/s764/grk15.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="439" data-original-width="764" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX4MMDPYaJ1WEr7ppcqmCi7trJsMwrqjuypKvr9n_ZCa5t3xsCcpR615S6nrD-IWalhQeUs0PNlfbAp4AVmTMcSDsfjGuj4JXTZfGcD3nh_s-MUAjTvHRpGIWFQip9zUIZVhYQUg_tWrxdOTeXfMf4QjTJ6Zy_CAZpfA_BILn7SsNsPO0B2QJXcJg0Zks/w400-h230/grk15.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">The story of the Green River Killer Gary Leon Ridgway is pretty damn abhorrent. Beginning in the early 1980s, Ridgway began killing prostitutes indiscriminately in the Seattle and Tacoma, Washington area. A majority disappeared from the sleazy “SeaTac strip” near the airport where prostitution was rampant. His killing was so out of control that sometimes he abducted and killed women on back-to-back nights. Equally horrifying to Ridgway’s crimes was some rather egregious police work involving the killings. Ridgway was known to the cops very early due to getting aggressive with prostitutes. Hell, one time he drove away with a victim and she never returned. The victim’s friends and family located his truck and notified the police. Guess what? They let him go. Even more outrageous is that he was semi-cleared because he passed a polygraph test. Yes, you know the lie detector thing that is so unreliable it isn’t admissible in court. And then you find out stuff like the lone cop handling it as a “cold case” in the early 90s wanted to test Ridgway’s hair and basically being told, “Eh, that was so long ago, why bother?” while Ridgway was still killing. While he eventually pleaded guilty to murdering 49 victims, the number of victims is estimated to be over 70 and, if you believe him (and the cops certainly do), the majority of his killing took place between 1982 and 1984. That is preposterous and only helps the police timeline for when they cared. The only thing that could make this horrible situation worse would be a filmmaker who plays fast and loose with the truth making a film purporting to tell the true story. Enter Ulli Lommel. </span><p></p><p></p><p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DdSBdHoaRJBEUEJTKqGL3-Y-aTzAYB-N6kc_pIP5QtfqYs5l0Wgt7_2Sd2PhrTeOXfvDvVORCHiRXzsP_Cx3jckSB3PKtFXeZVjouq9ys3sVjWmBqpH7l9ADE13utEBYO28Oyd3y13vhCw2m13Oq-nbNH_t17q7HVFRW2vwWk5V91fD4dcwa7DxxLKA/s1484/grk2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="1268" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DdSBdHoaRJBEUEJTKqGL3-Y-aTzAYB-N6kc_pIP5QtfqYs5l0Wgt7_2Sd2PhrTeOXfvDvVORCHiRXzsP_Cx3jckSB3PKtFXeZVjouq9ys3sVjWmBqpH7l9ADE13utEBYO28Oyd3y13vhCw2m13Oq-nbNH_t17q7HVFRW2vwWk5V91fD4dcwa7DxxLKA/w341-h400/grk2.jpg" width="341" /></a></span></span></div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">The film opens with shots of a green river next to a sign that says “Green River” on it. To be honest, I’m shocked Lommel and his team got this part right. As if a cheap direct-to-video flick about a serial killer wasn’t exploitative enough, Lommel crafts his opening with his Gary Leon Ridgway (George Kiseleff) laying around while audio from a real Ridgway interrogation is interspersed with random footage from real autopsies. Jeez, I’m only five minutes in and already feeling nauseous. We then cut to 1981 and Ridgway enters a bar. To accurately establish the very specific time period we just saw seconds earlier, Lommel manages to catch two anachronistic products (a Rollercoaster Tycoon pinball game and House of the Dead arcade game) in various shots. And to establish this is truly set in the Pacific Northwest, the place is plastered with Philadelphia Eagles memorabilia. This is gonna be rough. Anyway, Ridgway brings the prostitute home while his son Kevin is there. Shockingly, this is a true fact although the filmmakers stumble since Ridgway’s son was named Matthew. Ridgway takes her into the bedroom and demands she take a shower. When she questions his intentions, he whips out a gun and points it at her face. Her completely natural reaction is to say she needs another hundred dollars for her time. Lommel’s completely natural reaction is to show a close up of a modern $100 bill. After she takes her shower in front of the leering Ridgway, she sets the romantic mood before the deed by saying, “I have to take a shit first.” Honestly, the scariest bit in this scene is the toilet paper roll is upside down. Truly terrifying stuff. Once on the bed, he makes her suck the gun barrel, the two have sex and Ridgway strangles her. He then proceeds to dispose of her body.</span></span><p></p><p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl65GHUOQs5_5yAzOp9Y6CRaDjmRfrU1NP6e5-vtEhZpq11a7ZHnKaIDRRQCEmm6tXmE4pKPzklGF8YSiFtKSyUN19i80xdDW1M0PGrzbmJXw-OQGr6Jtok2VrEG9uHYAdtwicaVtog8OuohAKaP1Rwwg68zRqAkP_qVTtL528dOC3Ld0m38idsTpbj7o/s1275/grk4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="1275" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl65GHUOQs5_5yAzOp9Y6CRaDjmRfrU1NP6e5-vtEhZpq11a7ZHnKaIDRRQCEmm6tXmE4pKPzklGF8YSiFtKSyUN19i80xdDW1M0PGrzbmJXw-OQGr6Jtok2VrEG9uHYAdtwicaVtog8OuohAKaP1Rwwg68zRqAkP_qVTtL528dOC3Ld0m38idsTpbj7o/w400-h226/grk4.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Okay, so far so routine, but this is a Ulli Lommel serial killer biopic, so we can assume some “alternative facts” will be coming our way. Sure enough, as Ridgway disposes of his victim we get a voice over where he talks about his buddy named Boris, who was killed on Thanksgiving in 1979. WHAT?! Where the hell does this come from and what does it mean? We’ll find out…I think. We then meet Detective Dawson (Ron Robbins) and Lieutenant Cole (Christian Behm, a frequent Lommel collaborator who also edits these films), two cops who are on the case in an office that looks like the backroom at a car garage. They talk about the missing girls and mention bar owner Mona might know something. Meanwhile, Ridgway is being harassed by his co-workers at a warehouse. His two dimwitted co-workers joke about how everyone is calling him “Green River Gary” because of how much time he spends down by the river. Ridgway just stands there immobile, much like this movie. We then get a scene of Ridgway in bed with his second wife acting frigid toward him. In the first of two chuckles I got from this film, his wife complains that Gary doesn’t make enough money and he crosses his arms like a toddler and grumpily turns over to his side to avoid her. Trust me, it isn’t worth the pain for that one genuine laugh. </span></span><p></p><p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74ljy7mfHI8STeZX6xg6mJCdgs2wE862-BNhK7Kq5PEo3llsPhCHd1y_UrEeyH8jds6YiWyguw4GusJIm9x_l9pQ-xsaGwxdEJGZS6h_RNy8ltCUUH4ewtDJ87oOO1W6N4CZHRNFzVCZn10W1iQznP7UEH-z_e-_j1qnWmVRxSt-I-k6dPo-ALeJNLaM/s1470/grk16.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1470" data-original-width="1268" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg74ljy7mfHI8STeZX6xg6mJCdgs2wE862-BNhK7Kq5PEo3llsPhCHd1y_UrEeyH8jds6YiWyguw4GusJIm9x_l9pQ-xsaGwxdEJGZS6h_RNy8ltCUUH4ewtDJ87oOO1W6N4CZHRNFzVCZn10W1iQznP7UEH-z_e-_j1qnWmVRxSt-I-k6dPo-ALeJNLaM/w345-h400/grk16.jpg" width="345" /></a></span></span></div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Ridgway returns to the out of time bar to pick up another prostitute. They go to her RV in order to do the deed and Lommel once again shows his eye for 1980s period detail by leaving a big ass CD player in the shot. After Ridgway sucks her toes (gah!) with a terrible ballad blasting on the soundtrack, he strangles her and then drives her body out to his favorite dumping ground. Meanwhile, our intrepid police are interviewing Mona (Nola Roeper, another Lommel ensemble member/collaborator/victim) and she mentions how odd Ridgway is. No, nothing about him leaving with a girl who ended up missing, just that he was odd. In the next scene, Ridgway is visited by the two cops at his job and they show him photos of a victim who is named Gina Bellweather. Dawson actually says the name twice to make the audience know. That is not the name of a real Green River victim, but important as I will explain later. After the cops leave, Ridgway beats up his two co-workers while screaming “what’s my name?” because…well, because. He then has another dream about Boris.</span></span><p></p><p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIdXHlRUiDxRWSli4PBFDyALkJIvXEe5nLeuhM0VurQMRz75JmHophsTl2DcQav3sR7GnBt0UUcwjtkKkDYrWyoVfmfnc-AVREKLuODyH6lB_e26RwrHTY3E1n4V10XxtyMsk3c7kpXyLu6LA4-nO3E_Uv1d63gBOgtEokryrSQuNeTkf2hi3fpdVeT3Q/s1280/grk9.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIdXHlRUiDxRWSli4PBFDyALkJIvXEe5nLeuhM0VurQMRz75JmHophsTl2DcQav3sR7GnBt0UUcwjtkKkDYrWyoVfmfnc-AVREKLuODyH6lB_e26RwrHTY3E1n4V10XxtyMsk3c7kpXyLu6LA4-nO3E_Uv1d63gBOgtEokryrSQuNeTkf2hi3fpdVeT3Q/w400-h225/grk9.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Around the 50 minute mark we finally get some kind of explanation about this Boris bullshit. After saying he would “maybe suffocate a cat once and a while” and that he stabbed a toddler when he was 16-years-old (an actual legit fact), Ridgway gives us another voiceover where he explains that Boris taught him how to kill. Uh, okay. We then get lots of footage of Boris leaving a bar with two women and voyeuristic shots of them engaging in sex games that are shot through a window. Uh, okay again. We then get another bar victim pickup that Ridgway takes back to his house. She expresses that she is uncomfortable doing the deed in the bedroom because she finds a picture of his wife. In the film's second big laugh, she says, “Do you want to do it in the kitchen? We could do the dishes.” Alas, no dishes are to be done as Ridgway’s wife and son come home. Proving to be as deft on her feet as in the sheets, the prostitute quickly improvises and says, “I’m Gary’s cousin Louise.” What is this unicorn? A prostitute with a conscience, desire to do household chores, and quick on her feet? Ridgway takes her to an empty warehouse and kills her. Oh damn, I actually recognize this place as the main location from THE TOMB (2007). Sadly, we get another Boris dream/flashback. In this one it reveals that Ridgway was concerned about Boris so he decided to kill him. It was during Boris’ long, drawn out death as he craaaaaaaaawls over the floor that I realized the purpose of this subplot. It was just Lommel reverting back to his BOOGEYMAN II (1983) habits and using footage to pad out the running time of the film. I’d wager it is another Lommel production, but I’m not the slightest bit interested in digging to find out. </span></span><p></p><p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nixdVWQk8E8wWCFnsadjbL4weu3xjxQkHNht-2I_3zp0JR9dxHXG1qt8D6pqlIHb6j9es6-qMnl3ExROE2f-WJ1ON0bis6t14xL4qyd-LF9b5lSCDjidUccm1kDXVHDJnZda9NwL2m8DBWYhhqYme540g04qUiTnVsWf2rrC9K3PIJYULiJiLZp61Ag/s1280/grk11.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nixdVWQk8E8wWCFnsadjbL4weu3xjxQkHNht-2I_3zp0JR9dxHXG1qt8D6pqlIHb6j9es6-qMnl3ExROE2f-WJ1ON0bis6t14xL4qyd-LF9b5lSCDjidUccm1kDXVHDJnZda9NwL2m8DBWYhhqYme540g04qUiTnVsWf2rrC9K3PIJYULiJiLZp61Ag/w400-h225/grk11.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Smash cut to the date March 12, 2001 being typed up on the screen. Must be a pretty significant date in the Green River Killer investigation in order to put that specific day up on screen, right? Nah. Lommel doesn't play by the rules, so heaven forbid he learn that Ridgway was arrested on November 30, 2001. By the way, around this time I actually started to marvel that Lommel hadn’t cast himself in a role in this one. Just as it entered my mind, guess who shows up to read Ridgway his rights? ULLI! Of course it was our German cinema cowboy who took him down. The film wraps up with footage of an older Ridgway (for some reason they make him look like Robert Shaw) in cuffs leading Lommel to crime scenes mixed with stock footage of DNA machines as on screen text mentions Ridgway’s DNA being matched. Oh yeah, remember Gina Bellweather from earlier? The onscreen text refers to her as Regina Bellwith in this finale. Nothing better to prove the pointlessness of this film than the filmmakers mangling a name of a character they created. If they can’t bother enough to care, why would the audience? </span></span><p></p><p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ONXH-wt2detAKuGxTTFshVNOghn0AQOoFAp-ojlIGNholZcTb9vtX1n80mM5SCMpHGuLmTSGFNrSltAivQLzeJAe3zsZx0tMw8S0Kh7Tk9X_Bvlg56QNqdG_0wwUKQ3YujyZFY7UjjYS6uYRfCYmIvhUljvjUpBS5RDG2tkvUtqRrfj363N3XqCyyH0/s1280/grk8.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1280" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ONXH-wt2detAKuGxTTFshVNOghn0AQOoFAp-ojlIGNholZcTb9vtX1n80mM5SCMpHGuLmTSGFNrSltAivQLzeJAe3zsZx0tMw8S0Kh7Tk9X_Bvlg56QNqdG_0wwUKQ3YujyZFY7UjjYS6uYRfCYmIvhUljvjUpBS5RDG2tkvUtqRrfj363N3XqCyyH0/w400-h261/grk8.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Screw Lionsgate. No, seriously, screw Lionsgate. Things didn’t have to be like this. The company was flush with cash thanks to the buzzsaw box office success of SAW (2004) and SAW II (2005). And, hell, they were even experiencing award success around this time with HOTEL RWANDA (2004) and “Best Picture” winner CRASH (2004). The last thing they needed to be doing was hanging out with the reprobates in the alley. However, they just couldn’t escape the overwhelming desire to fleece the rubes via the tubes. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised they hooked up with Ulli Lommel. After all, they were releasing the early exploitation efforts of fellow German trash auteur Uwe Boll around the same time with HOUSE OF THE DEAD (2003) (via their Artisan arm) and ALONE IN THE DARK (2004). As Tom outlined in his <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2023/10/living-hell-of-ulli-lommel-zodiac.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">ZODIAC KILLER (2005)</span></a> review, serial killer cinema was flying off the Blockbuster shelves and Ulli’s attempts to convey some kind of story with his Zodiac interpretation hooked enough viewers that the company jumped on the idea faster than Guillermo del Toro abandons film projects. Look I’m not trying to “slut shame” this company as exploitation is the name of the game, but at least show some standards.</span></span><p></p><p><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSEzng3GQv9HggyAc1e3h0_N0iqSqDJrr3UWGm_MXNLwwN36MbkglwhOdmMXy7VEXBfunAM0n-hObzLB5rwD9ORX3LCZ8anE1cPYYHHw10hW8D-89-E90JIE-pEuzaUZ7GeiuVhgIKzhlaYWTrHF7xXC6sDp3IrEl6RDACVF14F-JRhyphenhyphens9UurQRgqW8A/s1280/grk12.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1280" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSEzng3GQv9HggyAc1e3h0_N0iqSqDJrr3UWGm_MXNLwwN36MbkglwhOdmMXy7VEXBfunAM0n-hObzLB5rwD9ORX3LCZ8anE1cPYYHHw10hW8D-89-E90JIE-pEuzaUZ7GeiuVhgIKzhlaYWTrHF7xXC6sDp3IrEl6RDACVF14F-JRhyphenhyphens9UurQRgqW8A/w400-h261/grk12.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;">Reading Tom’s review, I was blown away that he actually got Ulli attempting something that might be construed as a plot. With his next feature, Lommel abandoned all pretense and opted for just a series of scenes of random killings linked together by terrible voice overs. As Ulli’s producer/partner-in-crime Jeff Frentzen said in <a href="http://www.searchmytrash.com/cgi-bin/articlecreditsb.pl?jefffrentzen(1-16)" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">an interview</span></a>, “Lionsgate was happy with the episodic ‘kill scene after kill scene’ approach and wanted more of that.” Well, they definitely got that. This is pretty much the same scene repeated over 80 minutes as Ulli’s Ridgway goes to a bar, dances, picks up a prostitute, kills her, and then dreams about Boris. Rinse-and-repeat. As the incongruity outlined above shows, Lommel didn’t give a damn about anything like facts. Hell, he starts the film in 1981 even though Ridgway said his first murder didn’t happen until July 1982. If only Lommel had access to some kind of machine that could tell him that. That ineptitude coupled with some ugly video cinematography, some truly horrendous editing (they loooooove to overlay shots; see example below), and real autopsy footage results in a truly uncomfortable experience. I’d love to meet the Lionsgate exec who greenlit all of these and force them to watch these films because you know they never did. I’d also punch them in the gut. Hard.</span></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32YiexKF5BC23V6qYbpZQ3qmzwatOqlr3OzxDk49mkkqDR13rkoBp5pXzlel-ieGh7Jcm1sxz3qSBVyvAuxecM7LRjmyRyoaetAu_V9unWphlGAbc5_ATa8DFAC02wnH_qKqU0F7b283PrSL6CrbhIt59jjsZureO0TsNQrbOvPkh60qIgFhkbZfiIqE/s1277/grk14.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1277" height="421" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj32YiexKF5BC23V6qYbpZQ3qmzwatOqlr3OzxDk49mkkqDR13rkoBp5pXzlel-ieGh7Jcm1sxz3qSBVyvAuxecM7LRjmyRyoaetAu_V9unWphlGAbc5_ATa8DFAC02wnH_qKqU0F7b283PrSL6CrbhIt59jjsZureO0TsNQrbOvPkh60qIgFhkbZfiIqE/w640-h421/grk14.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p>William S. Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17735697605016894400noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-86125117808140182462023-10-01T08:00:00.006-07:002023-10-01T10:12:21.288-07:00Living Hell of Ulli Lommel: THE ZODIAC KILLER (2005)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgGGebVbzu58uyNg7QOFLuWXUGWWCU-Jly5RwZkEteSazJLN9BKsnMWWrSwPVwdBof6C1C10joPGba4Fk121-yFu2rzQwmp6maDbv0yrE_hmQJTw1p8j82CfUhqtB4LE89eC_-j3SV1e8Z1a-jgv2FQkwxmz_CauKg_gDN3Xxhricq0z0y_dUm6dXzJ71/s1416/zodiackiller2005_dvd.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1416" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgGGebVbzu58uyNg7QOFLuWXUGWWCU-Jly5RwZkEteSazJLN9BKsnMWWrSwPVwdBof6C1C10joPGba4Fk121-yFu2rzQwmp6maDbv0yrE_hmQJTw1p8j82CfUhqtB4LE89eC_-j3SV1e8Z1a-jgv2FQkwxmz_CauKg_gDN3Xxhricq0z0y_dUm6dXzJ71/s320/zodiackiller2005_dvd.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>Oh holy shit, what have we gotten ourselves into? Ulli Lommel has had an amazing career out of making terrible movies that keep making money in spite of the almost no discernable talent. Sure someone, probably Ulli himself, might claim that he indeed had an auspicious start with Rainer Werner Fassbinder and even briefly moved into making a couple of successful low-rent horror movies, but cratered into a mad grab for cash that dumps all but the pretension of filmmaking. Even the worst dishwasher can work at a great restaurant for a while. Sound harsh? I have met a lot of genre movie fans over the years, across the US and overseas, and while many, if not most, have seen some of Lommel's work, not one of them could be considered a fan. Lommel benefited greatly from the insatiable demand for VHS and DVD content and as such was able to churn out staggeringly cheap "movies" for the DVD era that were little more than home movies shot with a cheap video camera in homes or public places. But to sell these ramshackle videos, you need a hook with which to reel in the suckers. In the late '90s, after David Fincher's SEVEN (1995) became a runaway hit and ingrained itself into pop culture, serial killer films became big business. You could argue that the low-budget arthouse hit HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER (1986) really kicked things off leading to big studio films like SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991), but SEVEN was so huge that it lead to every aspect of it, including its credit sequence, influencing everything that came after it. Throughout the early 2000s we got high-profile serial killer hits like AMERICAN PSYCHO (2000) and MONSTER (2003), to a glut of indy titles like ED GEIN (2000), DAHMER (2002) and TED BUNDY (2002). Just like Leatherface is purported to have said, "what better hook to hang it on?"<div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqsRrUSNbEzp_XF2AobmyCSz4tuy2eTpKErEMgceDVUOHvUFf2-q19ZjXQISdyFAYo3mGz6uW4rA2E36SECloia_oNu2RT7VGF6J7o878e7KaqwzePkhk2i5512WrOK8uQqidAfE1Ce4sbSh5cKfZZhL-VcI_ErhzhbGbJ_A0s3pr5MXXqxBzi9xDin8bd/s1000/zodiackiller_saw.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="671" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqsRrUSNbEzp_XF2AobmyCSz4tuy2eTpKErEMgceDVUOHvUFf2-q19ZjXQISdyFAYo3mGz6uW4rA2E36SECloia_oNu2RT7VGF6J7o878e7KaqwzePkhk2i5512WrOK8uQqidAfE1Ce4sbSh5cKfZZhL-VcI_ErhzhbGbJ_A0s3pr5MXXqxBzi9xDin8bd/s320/zodiackiller_saw.png" width="215" /></a></div>In 2005 received no less than two ZODIAC movies. Alexander Bulkley's THE ZODIAC was low-budget, but aimed for legitimacy with actual film and a limited US theatrical run starting with a July 2005 German festival screening. ULLI LOMMEL'S THE ZODIAC KILLER (this is the actual title card) didn't get such honors and, after a US festival screening in March of 2005, went straight to DVD. Distributed by Lionsgate with an eye-catching cover, ZODIAC KILLER dropped the same year that SAW (2005) sold over 3 million copies in the first week of its DVD release. Lionsgate knew that they had a blueprint to vacuum money out of pockets in a booming horror market. Low-budget (or in Ulli's case, no budget), movies about serial killers who preferably torture their victims were big business and ZODIAC KILLER proved them right. Though, it certainly wasn't the actual movie that brought in all the sales, it was just the cover and title. You could have had 80 minutes of Ulli Lommel doing his laundry and that sucker would have still flown off the shelves at the time. </div><div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_T7Fvs0xzQjj492XeeT7GPwOEVJPKaMiJJJ-IEhftE5JH8URpoQEFtJyurWBqvaw4iYBLweEnfkjcv22Ifvk_f1QFPOIJx9reHKCjvK9yjeoIzF4G57wW5hatXNoyVL1U0GZeM3ZP08r7DgOD0R6VlhvoI6Qfc9uPt0JoY3HyefQHk_A2zBWMkcXQcLPp/s1280/zodiac_drawing.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_T7Fvs0xzQjj492XeeT7GPwOEVJPKaMiJJJ-IEhftE5JH8URpoQEFtJyurWBqvaw4iYBLweEnfkjcv22Ifvk_f1QFPOIJx9reHKCjvK9yjeoIzF4G57wW5hatXNoyVL1U0GZeM3ZP08r7DgOD0R6VlhvoI6Qfc9uPt0JoY3HyefQHk_A2zBWMkcXQcLPp/w400-h300/zodiac_drawing.png" width="400" /></a></div>I'm sure everyone reading this is at least familiar with the Zodiac Killer's brief reign of terror in the San Francisco Bay Area, from December 1968 until October 1969. The case is complicated and other murders with similar M.O.s have been alleged to be linked to the presumed single killer. No less than seven victims, six of whom were couples, are confirmed to be linked to a person who wrote cryptic letters to the San Francisco Chronicle, The San Francisco Herald and The Vallejo Times-Herald (Vallejo being a middle-class community just north of SF) in which he took credit for the killings and what are believed to be cypher codes that have never been cracked. The solitary survivor of his attacks described him as wearing a hood and had a symbol of a circled cross on his chest. Many other cases into the mid-'70s have been thought to have possible connections, but whether they actually were the same person or a copy-cat or just some cop's fever-dream, is unknown since the killer was never caught. Considered one of the great unsolved crime cases in history, along with Jack the Ripper and B.D. Cooper, it is "solved" every year, usually in the Fall, by an amateur sleuth or retired detective and is splashed about the newspapers and social media so that we can all laugh at the absurd conclusions. It probably goes without saying, but Ulli Lommel doesn't give a shit about any of this.<br /><p></p><p>Set and shot in Los Angeles (because that's where Lommel lives) and based on "his story" titled "The Nature of Evil" (which a Google search could not find any mention of) this no-budget sucker-bait outing makes the WITCHCRAFT series (1988-2016) look like A-list entertainment.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYQSOE2P6YuNffAWaelhOBX-x82OS8_rE5rAqH_PDabjUJc2pVhCSiR3kKLxOsBQDk54xQTBY5f8UWuczsY9L15L7iEGvYACIPElkRdJF0f1y3OuhN8YOAH9rm0vG3eZ2HDm2kXiLzwnknb8zKyM5ljpU8oZKUJtj4DLZZNjoJIUSSNvad1h3R2N1Enf0W/s2569/zodiackiller_03.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2569" data-original-width="2284" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYQSOE2P6YuNffAWaelhOBX-x82OS8_rE5rAqH_PDabjUJc2pVhCSiR3kKLxOsBQDk54xQTBY5f8UWuczsY9L15L7iEGvYACIPElkRdJF0f1y3OuhN8YOAH9rm0vG3eZ2HDm2kXiLzwnknb8zKyM5ljpU8oZKUJtj4DLZZNjoJIUSSNvad1h3R2N1Enf0W/w355-h400/zodiackiller_03.png" width="355" /></a></div>A douchebag at a rest home is loudly talking on his cellphone about needing to kill off his elderly relative in order to receive an inheritance. Unfortunately for him, she and the orderly (Vladimir Maksic) are right within earshot causing the orderly to frown with disapproval. After work, the orderly spends a long time travelling through L.A. until he finally comes upon an apartment laundry room where the d-bag is washing his clothes. The orderly, Michael Cosnick (who looks like a Mikey to me), takes out a nickel plated .45 and shoots him in the base of his spine. Are you horrified? No? Well, Los Angeles DJ's are! After what I assume is a pleasant night's sleep Mikey awakes to morning radio blaring about how this murder is "reminiscent of the string of killings nearly 30 years ago by the infamous Zodiac, a serial killer who is still at large!" Yep, you shoot a guy doing laundry and the next thing you know, you're branded a serial killer who hasn't been around for 36 years and operated about 400 miles away. I mean, you can understand why people would freak out and claim it is a Zodiac killing when there are only 71 gun-related deaths per month in 2005 Los Angeles. Makes perfect sense. The DJ helpfully goes on to inform Mikey, "you can read more about the Zodiac in Simon Vale's '70s best seller, 'The Hunt for the Zodiac'." I'll give you two guesses who plays Simon Vale, and one of them doesn't count, because it ain't David Hess.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin7OnrqFmbgjO8QzranjZYXz42rwLTTRhk5rWo2ZTpy9SxJ7kuzC3G_L7BD_ScYTkaEkNcbf9SbJ6cKyv-1P5DinD-vR6QLe0dx-hYR_biIjR0sx6FpSJfPw0ncOpUScDR1_o5wFYCfWvqTvABC48GX8MoJCn1cxTntksmi6z0QMtG1jPc3GRo9B85Yq0I/s2286/zodiackiller_04b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1395" data-original-width="2286" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin7OnrqFmbgjO8QzranjZYXz42rwLTTRhk5rWo2ZTpy9SxJ7kuzC3G_L7BD_ScYTkaEkNcbf9SbJ6cKyv-1P5DinD-vR6QLe0dx-hYR_biIjR0sx6FpSJfPw0ncOpUScDR1_o5wFYCfWvqTvABC48GX8MoJCn1cxTntksmi6z0QMtG1jPc3GRo9B85Yq0I/w400-h244/zodiackiller_04b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Did I say "David Hess"? We jump to a room in which David Hess plays Mel Navokov, a forensic pathologist who is looking at some very real crime scene photos of bodies in various states of dismemberment. The reason we know he is a forensic psychologist the fact that he yells at his presumed friend Simon Vale (Ulli Lommel): "I'm a forensic psychologist, remember!?" So he's going to assess this alleged Zodiac based on pictures of his alleged victims on his laptop? It's almost as if Lommel has no idea what a forensic psychologist actually does. It doesn't take long for Mel to make an assessment: "The guy knew what he was doing... Makes ya puke doesn't it? When I get sick, I get horny!" Simon responds that when he gets lonely, he prays. These guys could kill a party faster than a visit from your parents.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ItFf4BZHoLMHlqPhMigFXL4XZRaFkUn_OLnbiORpKbNSG6AqQC5z-qQV8ssff-nmABZGeDIabspgSeol2Y76918NyuILBAyv3BhERHtM-7KsJfmz6RIGt08_4CB-mfMpYK-STo1olJg3SrCZg1eEnFP7tpNi0HaFcKVpt8UZ762cQ3EHiYqHaEQ158ij/s2286/zodiackiller_05.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="2286" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ItFf4BZHoLMHlqPhMigFXL4XZRaFkUn_OLnbiORpKbNSG6AqQC5z-qQV8ssff-nmABZGeDIabspgSeol2Y76918NyuILBAyv3BhERHtM-7KsJfmz6RIGt08_4CB-mfMpYK-STo1olJg3SrCZg1eEnFP7tpNi0HaFcKVpt8UZ762cQ3EHiYqHaEQ158ij/w400-h220/zodiackiller_05.png" width="400" /></a></div>Mikey easily finds a copy of Vale's book and we get one of the first, but definitely not the last, monotonous voice-overs reading the personal history of the Zodiac (here referred to as just "Zodiac" as if it is his name). That's right, detailed biographical information about a guy who was never identified. Since Lommel has a budget that starts at zero and counts backwards, he decides to use black and white footage swiped from THE BOOGEYMAN (1980) while the V.O. narrates what Zodiac did as a kid. This resonates with Mikey, for some reason, and in a desperate attempt to give the movie some sort of depth, Lommel has Mikey narrate his rambling thoughts about his desire to kill all the people who don't visit their relatives in the home where he works. Not sure how he's going to find people that haven't actually been to his workplace, but whatever. He also muses "I love old people. They need help." See? He's not a bad guy! Actually I have no idea whether that is Lommel's intent because the dialogue is seemingly adlibbed and barely coherent.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-308nmoN7rRSf4ISH7G3tbucIVPcxuDW_Dm_Xzre3SuiUGkC6HfT6E5nT8ExSQVExuLIqRLUeYNAQy6R6l-J5RcYma4lIuLczArAV6zs-QDaV3pV-QW1G8D-Xpo4ziDRWzFFfm_sOfpWErLbbu3CboPZyQElh-efK9BN8m_WUj8gaBTrmB0YlxmNRTUHs/s2527/zodiackiller_08.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2527" data-original-width="2293" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-308nmoN7rRSf4ISH7G3tbucIVPcxuDW_Dm_Xzre3SuiUGkC6HfT6E5nT8ExSQVExuLIqRLUeYNAQy6R6l-J5RcYma4lIuLczArAV6zs-QDaV3pV-QW1G8D-Xpo4ziDRWzFFfm_sOfpWErLbbu3CboPZyQElh-efK9BN8m_WUj8gaBTrmB0YlxmNRTUHs/w363-h400/zodiackiller_08.png" width="363" /></a></div>We also get long scenes of Mikey, who is apparently able to mimic the handwriting of the Zodiac flawlessly, writing letters to the police claiming to be the original killer. Additionally, we get absurdly boring scenes of Mikey killing people, like a young couple of non-actors who are looking to buy a Mercedes from some random guy in a small garage. Amusingly, the couple are shown getting shot and then shown dead in completely unnatural positions and in a way that their bodies never could have fallen. Yeah, that's me; expecting visual continuity from an Ulli Lommel movie. There is also a subplot that is introduced late in the game about a bunch of guys who sit around a dinner table wearing black hoods who are the "real" Zodiac killer. They have meetings in which they bitch about the new guy trying to take credit for their crimes and who killed which deserving person that week. Again, implying that serial killers are not entirely bad.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimoUxDvbUHIdb7rI_YjOizV_MGl9neXtkbPPWMl80NOEoEQEJ5KFQ62igrMvIOLaWQgPJlLZ8OwfSL0q_0AKJwI8VU1UAURcpjYRSOH6ahK_xuQEJRrSRQA4MAGwH1i7PfIIoauDpchXad5QDrMqoU-LtEyhXVLRM0Ub6icyinoexdTYOhXWxHQxlkpmxn/s2578/zodiackiller14.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2578" data-original-width="2294" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimoUxDvbUHIdb7rI_YjOizV_MGl9neXtkbPPWMl80NOEoEQEJ5KFQ62igrMvIOLaWQgPJlLZ8OwfSL0q_0AKJwI8VU1UAURcpjYRSOH6ahK_xuQEJRrSRQA4MAGwH1i7PfIIoauDpchXad5QDrMqoU-LtEyhXVLRM0Ub6icyinoexdTYOhXWxHQxlkpmxn/w356-h400/zodiackiller14.png" width="356" /></a></div>We get more rambling, stream of consciousness voice overs that culminate with a bizarre scene in which Mikey orders pizza. It is delivered by a girl in a black and white restaurant waitstaff outfit who Mikey just stares at for a while. Then, on the pretext of getting money to pay for the pizza, he gets a canteen filled with an unnamed knockout gas, causing the pizza girl to faint into a comfortable chair. After staring at her even more, he goes to bed and dreams that they are sitting on his bed tickling and wrestling each other. After waking up, he decides not to kill her. Riveting cinema! Lommel strains to make profound statements about how the military (in this case the US Navy, which is bizarrely specific) are state sanctioned killers. Yeah, he's got a point, but it's so tortured that I yearn for the subtlety of Monty Python's Zulu War bit in THE MEANING OF LIFE (1983). Here he thinks that he'll go into the Navy because "they kill for a reason". I'm beginning to think that Ulli doesn't have a point, just a rounded tip. We also get more of Mikey's Jack Handy-esque musings such as: "One thing I miss reading about the Zodiac is his purpose. He doesn't have a purpose." Makes ya think, doesn't it? Also, while stalking a victim, Mikey thinks "He really got on my nerves, so he had to go. If you know what I mean." No idea. He had to go home? To the grocery store? Piano lessons? What?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEoDy5FFX5iGnT6pJ5kRDsmfaS7Gi0lL1MR6TGh12c_tVfi_qbq0g19yqrTinQj6RFCQzuoNK_KlX1zup8U-3vQ7f-agVjJJylIpH38Y2KOgk7HVrALuxkxbYR1HM705iTouw2W6bKq8zIJR7YfQ90ZfiCUXUdOG1-UG_lGZwR27aYJ9yjDsx8P-B4y7v/s2286/zodiackiller13c.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1395" data-original-width="2286" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEoDy5FFX5iGnT6pJ5kRDsmfaS7Gi0lL1MR6TGh12c_tVfi_qbq0g19yqrTinQj6RFCQzuoNK_KlX1zup8U-3vQ7f-agVjJJylIpH38Y2KOgk7HVrALuxkxbYR1HM705iTouw2W6bKq8zIJR7YfQ90ZfiCUXUdOG1-UG_lGZwR27aYJ9yjDsx8P-B4y7v/w400-h244/zodiackiller13c.png" width="400" /></a></div>As if all that wasn't boring enough, we have another subplot about Vance meeting up with Mikey. Vance is trying to investigate Mikey while updating his book for a rerelease for which he is being fronted half a million dollars (welcome to Ulli's other fantasy world). It starts with letters, then phone calls, then getting a friend to hack into US Homeland Security computers and track Mikey's cell phone and then requests for dinner dates at French restaurants and invitations back to his place. Yeah, nothing creepy. For all of the stumbling, half improvised, one-take dialogue, this is the part where Lommel seems right at home, delivering his come-on lines so smoothly that you'd think he's had a lot of practice with them. Draw your own conclusions. One of the "best" moments of this squirm-inducing letchery is when Vale gives Mikey an opera DVD and a people-killing knife and gets him back to his place to feed him ice cream and make him watch REVENGE OF THE STOLEN STARS (1986)! Man, this fucker is creepy <i>and </i>evil!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zp25Yr3n698u18wqVk4UiGReZb7Rd91WF86g-7sypojozDgjLrMVtLR08bk407hnZD8W1m3c-e9gS21x9FVMGURDEch_tQbJD4InwIq9wBGpc2_P9Ks3wPkE_sv3V9KghSsqD77sQv1n7zJL6-BrnPYIIxY1GOZvSQLtiY0Zr4JNwOaarQiprTRc3suN/s2294/zodiackiller15c.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="2294" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zp25Yr3n698u18wqVk4UiGReZb7Rd91WF86g-7sypojozDgjLrMVtLR08bk407hnZD8W1m3c-e9gS21x9FVMGURDEch_tQbJD4InwIq9wBGpc2_P9Ks3wPkE_sv3V9KghSsqD77sQv1n7zJL6-BrnPYIIxY1GOZvSQLtiY0Zr4JNwOaarQiprTRc3suN/w400-h219/zodiackiller15c.png" width="400" /></a></div>Yep, you guessed it, [SPOILER] Smokey <i>is</i> the Bandit! Vale then gasses and shoots Mikey in his bathtub and we discover that he is the head of the Dining Room Table Zodiac Club. Oh and because Lommel doesn't know when to quit, we get a few tacked on scenes of Vale tying up loose ends. He sends Mikey's naked corpse in a giant Looney Tunes present to the detective on the case, who is not remotely impressed, along with a note saying that Mikey is the Zodiac. He then talks to a guy who he was interviewing for his book because his father was a serial killer. The guy really wants his father to be thought of as the greatest serial killer ever and Vale tells him that he wasn't because he was caught and executed (via guillotine!) and the greatest serial killer is the Zodiac because he was never caught and he then walks into the night. Roll credits.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx2PZVhZ3Poor1kQKT906qUt5scv8NMMsPEyFBo3aL5LViu9PkR3YwDAMIve-fi90GzGrWjO7c_8JeGZGVAVzyIuqNwUNmYqYCEPeShT0Re26WJr84OA4emFBx--oGQ7lJRKpwBm8J5SAf1KJFciBKUexzdA7u3vMox6jFzePIaI-ooP_9XzMJ246vMgOW/s2294/zodiackiller_09.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="2294" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx2PZVhZ3Poor1kQKT906qUt5scv8NMMsPEyFBo3aL5LViu9PkR3YwDAMIve-fi90GzGrWjO7c_8JeGZGVAVzyIuqNwUNmYqYCEPeShT0Re26WJr84OA4emFBx--oGQ7lJRKpwBm8J5SAf1KJFciBKUexzdA7u3vMox6jFzePIaI-ooP_9XzMJ246vMgOW/w400-h219/zodiackiller_09.png" width="400" /></a></div>Lommel puts so little effort into this rambling, dreary home-movie that it is amazing that he actually coordinated his schedule so that he could steal footage during an alleged Christmas parade and an alleged Halloween street party, where nobody is in costume except the "actors". These are cellphone-esque shots (IMDb says that this was shot with a Sony Arriflex 35, which is complete bullshit) just showing Vale following a wandering Mikey or the corpulent and aging ex-Zodiac detective Fisk (Peter Beckman), who lives with a young rockabilly wife and watches THE DEVONSVILLE TERROR (1983) in his spare time. There are no special effects outside of a tiny bit of stage blood dribbled on the victims, so Lommel resorts to pulling out footage from damn near every horror movie he's made including many scenes from TENDERNESS OF THE WOLVES (1973), as well as the afore mentioned real crime scene photos. The whole thing lends a sleazy feeling that THE ZODIAC KILLER is little more than an excuse for Lommel to attempt to put the moves on the lead and make some money off of the lucrative serial killer movie market at the same time. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1koMt19VNY-qc39E3KKKt3vdsvVRuU0ZwvXx7TIQtGAEMa1-BMEtxMdCKZyAM81BgDgsH6aGhBINQ4JUE9ZRh748Co11rfM5p81aroTbxt7PAVXU_XKD6VCKm5amyM7vWgWvcTSAzRUQI1pOh7NqpIjlF4WV65K9TbwxstNapWpJCT-EXEMrxYUxLKlIT/s459/blackdahlia_roeper.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="252" data-original-width="459" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1koMt19VNY-qc39E3KKKt3vdsvVRuU0ZwvXx7TIQtGAEMa1-BMEtxMdCKZyAM81BgDgsH6aGhBINQ4JUE9ZRh748Co11rfM5p81aroTbxt7PAVXU_XKD6VCKm5amyM7vWgWvcTSAzRUQI1pOh7NqpIjlF4WV65K9TbwxstNapWpJCT-EXEMrxYUxLKlIT/s320/blackdahlia_roeper.png" width="320" /></a></div>It should be mentioned that this is the first in a string of 10 real-life serial killer movies (that have nothing to do with the real-life serial killers) from Ulli and his new best friend, actor/producer Nola Roeper. Prior to hooking up with Ulli, Roeper's claim to fame was AM radio in the '80s and some minor comic acting and stage roles in '70s. She has produced at least 20 of the cheapest, crappiest shot on video movies that you can imagine for Lionsgate and a whopping 19 of them were with Lommel behind the camera (iPhone?). She has small acting parts in most of them and, let's say, she does nothing to raise the value of the production. Interestingly, she took her ill-gotten gains and put them into a Hollywood event planning / party rental company that has staged events for A-list actors. Or at least so she claims.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnG1bAn-njLhT_J-2gtgkv4znQVWS74DHAP7pERQDLeukFDB85Zm9d03fiZf6ljsVwOl4iqH5MrINOgr9DcNTKUx7_vuCEvLpnhnp9Rtpv1Ujg1adJ3UvdjNPvWRbaS-qPhFPuZBaQK9Fia-4Ic4AmBNyxw5bZW8I_F2UtqWKAjnVdSCcbcbBq68lo4o_/s2294/zodiackiller_12b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="2294" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnG1bAn-njLhT_J-2gtgkv4znQVWS74DHAP7pERQDLeukFDB85Zm9d03fiZf6ljsVwOl4iqH5MrINOgr9DcNTKUx7_vuCEvLpnhnp9Rtpv1Ujg1adJ3UvdjNPvWRbaS-qPhFPuZBaQK9Fia-4Ic4AmBNyxw5bZW8I_F2UtqWKAjnVdSCcbcbBq68lo4o_/w400-h219/zodiackiller_12b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Presumably inspired by the trail-blazing 1971 cult film, THE ZODIAC KILLER, it's hard to say whether Ulli heard about Bulkley's production and raced to make his own, or whether it was just one of those Hollywood hive-mind occurrences where you have two or more very similar movies being produced concurrently, seemingly in a vacuum, separate from each other. Seeing as how Lommel's movie probably took about a week to shoot, I'm inclined to believe the former. The most amusing thing about these completely dissimilar competing turkeys is that they were financially successful, possibly paving the way for David Fincher's unsuccessful, but surprisingly good, big-budget take on the events with ZODIAC (2007). While I'm usually all about supporting the underdog, in this case I'm glad something good came out of Ulli's gawd-awful tripe.<p></p></div></div></div>Thomas Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16564002523015701936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-4213561059651267432023-07-12T08:00:00.002-07:002023-07-12T13:09:00.470-07:00Dr. Jones I Presume?: MARK OF THE SCORPION (1986)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTrxTKnghd0r2Xo88fwzRvx6fnSuJ_4uFK5mAl9o-ESUnZGS6yDNWMiSBRRW_jM4Wdp5q8X-4BboW88Yeryxt3gBX1en8nNOH6LJJs54fpJsVE2CVfUA0Pyq9vnbDiGTaZ4Ptd-Yjanh44V246GY0c_-Ps27A6ThRkCHVFFkBWkKtrr9kjBzmMbOjbFFVo/s1573/markofthescorpion_ger.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1573" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTrxTKnghd0r2Xo88fwzRvx6fnSuJ_4uFK5mAl9o-ESUnZGS6yDNWMiSBRRW_jM4Wdp5q8X-4BboW88Yeryxt3gBX1en8nNOH6LJJs54fpJsVE2CVfUA0Pyq9vnbDiGTaZ4Ptd-Yjanh44V246GY0c_-Ps27A6ThRkCHVFFkBWkKtrr9kjBzmMbOjbFFVo/s320/markofthescorpion_ger.jpg" width="203" /></a></div>Just like Indiana Jones travels the globe in search of objects of art that people have rarely seen, our job here is to do the same. Ok, so these days, travelling is, uhhh, minimal, but still we dig in obscure places for hand crafted things that are stunning to behold, at least in one way or another. I'm sure not all of Indy's adventures have led him to incredible finds that warp men's minds (and faces). There have to be plenty where he scratched around in the dirt and came away with the jawbone of an ass. Much like we did here. Actually, a jawbone of an ass was something that was useful to someone at some time. MARK OF THE SCORPION (aka KISS OF THE COBRA and BETTER KISS A COBRA) could only be described that way because it brought the filmmakers some money by producing the cheapest hunk of junk possible and pawning it off on unsuspecting distributors hungry for product to stuff onto video store shelves complete with box art that is nothing more than a nest of lies.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXrP3F6eWhp0ouXRPeuVJu1GeU0vKcThITAQXBpn5Vv2TIhFXYFd42eQs6T7gnl53XT5FfXLDsJ1yuDQvv930_k1AFZoxR9Lp_j8aGaAutvPH9NwdgV0DnHi5MKYra3jvw--99W_HqjQyB4nxiAC8eKNVCI6A8ofVx4L8o-Z-TUApA_dNhnpeGC3HP0Wb/s1632/markofthescorpion_06.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="992" data-original-width="1632" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXrP3F6eWhp0ouXRPeuVJu1GeU0vKcThITAQXBpn5Vv2TIhFXYFd42eQs6T7gnl53XT5FfXLDsJ1yuDQvv930_k1AFZoxR9Lp_j8aGaAutvPH9NwdgV0DnHi5MKYra3jvw--99W_HqjQyB4nxiAC8eKNVCI6A8ofVx4L8o-Z-TUApA_dNhnpeGC3HP0Wb/s320/markofthescorpion_06.png" width="320" /></a></div>Set in "West Sahara" in 1936, we are told of a group of soldiers, known as The Scorpions because of their scorpion tattoos, are rounded up and imprisoned for robbing the military and providing arms to the Berbers. So I guess what they are saying is that The Scorpions were mercenaries assisting the Berber rebellion against the Spanish occupation and the eventual combined forces of the Spanish and French armies that put down the rebellion in 1934. Too bad they didn't actually say that because most viewers in 1986 probably had no idea what the hell they were talking about because they would have had to actually dig out an encyclopedia and look up the history of Western Sahara.<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLgVkVBuEVJV_Mtb-SrfpGALG-VSxYoqZgOYLU-fObSl18SQVZ9RWnxVF_RhN-KgJBufamSa0whZxfO_DwNBB1qT0qIfxIuOXMptRl9dNtb4SiSGwoamvHnI-RTENcwPHbawk_9bl9RzNvD-rrhsxsKFO0HvYfvquG0La3AvtG3BDmc3IKE0eMqm7_BFj/s2463/markofthescorpion_09.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2463" data-original-width="1657" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLgVkVBuEVJV_Mtb-SrfpGALG-VSxYoqZgOYLU-fObSl18SQVZ9RWnxVF_RhN-KgJBufamSa0whZxfO_DwNBB1qT0qIfxIuOXMptRl9dNtb4SiSGwoamvHnI-RTENcwPHbawk_9bl9RzNvD-rrhsxsKFO0HvYfvquG0La3AvtG3BDmc3IKE0eMqm7_BFj/w269-h400/markofthescorpion_09.png" width="269" /></a></div>Our hero, Phil Stone (Andy J. Forest) - yes, that's his name - descends on a rope into a small hole filled with human bones, gold treasures and snakes. Why did it have to be snakes? Because RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK (1981), that's why. Oh, and also Egyptian statues. Even though the Egyptian empire was literally on the other side of the continent. But whatever, adventure! After searching the burial site (by which I mean, just kind of glancing around his general vicinity), Phil climbs up to find he is surrounded by angry Arabs who accuse him of profaning their tombs! You know what this means, right? Yeah, we got a fight! After a quick scuffle that puts Phil ahead, he is quickly knocked unconscious because one dude has a bullwhip. So this means that he'll grab the whip and use it in the rest of the movie, right? Nah, too much effort. The Arabs search him and find no treasures that whitey has profaned, so they just decide to give up and leave. Unbeknownst to them, our brave hero was playing possum and had secretly stashed a golden ring in his mouth. Because Phil is an archaeologist and therefore respecter of antiquity, he immediately goes to sell it to an Arab friend in the middle of the desert who is busy having a hand chopped off of some schmuck who dared to rob a tomb. Seeing that this plan might be unwise, Phil instead just tries to bum a loan. The Arab tells him "My religion says that loans are impure," to which Phil replies "I don't agree with your faith." Zing! The Arab decides gifts are ok, and gives him the necklace that was stolen by the profaner! His faith definitely is strange.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwr2p07VuylQlu4_KNt04c9LPcIFvDMsUFjiV506W-Laagaffw4DIO7FWxyd_W-O1LZWZafqY2n3_W6Ludn9LnIPi8e8EkgzrXBeDV2xDHeDZRJgB53SjM4PfspvQovOySOAzsRjHTTC07iPMyfa2J7Ylx115oDuuHRUya5ORW-q94-n2--IvMPiCQRIRb/s1916/markofthescorpion_02.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1393" data-original-width="1916" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwr2p07VuylQlu4_KNt04c9LPcIFvDMsUFjiV506W-Laagaffw4DIO7FWxyd_W-O1LZWZafqY2n3_W6Ludn9LnIPi8e8EkgzrXBeDV2xDHeDZRJgB53SjM4PfspvQovOySOAzsRjHTTC07iPMyfa2J7Ylx115oDuuHRUya5ORW-q94-n2--IvMPiCQRIRb/s320/markofthescorpion_02.png" width="320" /></a></div>After lying in bed with his married squeeze Maria (Italian porn star Milly D'Abbraccio), he flees the jealous husband by leaping out of a closed window. Savor this moment like a 1934 Chateau Lafite Rothschild because this is pretty much the only action you are going to get in this somnia-inducing cash-grab. Because we have established that he needs money to get on a boat (he has been carrying a random picture of a cruise liner in his pocket for years), he decides to bet the ring, necklace and all of his cash on the Gom Jabbar test. Ok, so it's basically a bet on whether him or some other idiot can put their hand in a box that contains a "cobra", which looks a lot like a European Grass Snake*, and not die. Phil wins, but is instantly arrested by the military police for "killing that man". <br />*(thanks to the amazing herpedude Mike Howlett)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMsdAo2xC_mCbnhP_jp8SO25wK7V5RoZDIsU27EEADjuEbukvp1EKegXOleH_DdEz4Gi5IhIemUDIRPdyuRi0_-xY32f7TNpMQxo-r6JdJIj9GU1m-i8o_kNE41nh2jouiOVF3tmOmoOS3sun1ZqYPcQTRDy4z5dQAc5AloDVMxV9y8jFUkP1c2jd-loS/s1674/markofthescorpion_03b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1212" data-original-width="1674" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMsdAo2xC_mCbnhP_jp8SO25wK7V5RoZDIsU27EEADjuEbukvp1EKegXOleH_DdEz4Gi5IhIemUDIRPdyuRi0_-xY32f7TNpMQxo-r6JdJIj9GU1m-i8o_kNE41nh2jouiOVF3tmOmoOS3sun1ZqYPcQTRDy4z5dQAc5AloDVMxV9y8jFUkP1c2jd-loS/s320/markofthescorpion_03b.png" width="320" /></a></div>Turns out this was an astoundingly elaborate set-up, assisted by Maria(!), to get him back in the local prison camp where Warden Fontaine (Paul Muller) wants Phil to find Cleopatra's treasure. This treasure, which he believes is not only here, nearly 2000 years and 3000 miles away from where Cleopatra sat on her asp, but is actually somewhere in the prison camp! WHAT?! Ok, ok, deep breaths, willing suspension of disbelief, willing suspension of disbelief. Phil, who may be the laziest, slowest and most unemotional hero I've ever seen, at least is no dummy. To this he replies "Do you still believe in Santa Claus?" Yeah, that's tellin' him, Phil!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uN6M0EgWlZuXYPePq-H-CvzBO91ziQreWG8-CrTEFwyJUZMaXWQsLwQxcyHpMvqOX8L1wmUo3c09K63rQvbrB1F0vQANQMf2Pok511fSt_h8J4PSHWx40H9NpUJddq9TS5XDQrQEXyetdiMsNDJeY2NQIhSdRJgysmr30-SNhyRVEgxbr-lZ5Ljhgr0t/s1687/markofthescorpion_10.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1219" data-original-width="1687" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2uN6M0EgWlZuXYPePq-H-CvzBO91ziQreWG8-CrTEFwyJUZMaXWQsLwQxcyHpMvqOX8L1wmUo3c09K63rQvbrB1F0vQANQMf2Pok511fSt_h8J4PSHWx40H9NpUJddq9TS5XDQrQEXyetdiMsNDJeY2NQIhSdRJgysmr30-SNhyRVEgxbr-lZ5Ljhgr0t/s320/markofthescorpion_10.png" width="320" /></a></div>Phil hooks up with another Scorpion prisoner (who the writer couldn't be bothered to name) to help him out in his hunt. At the same time, the camp's Sargent Kemal (Mohamed Attifi) is suspicious of Phil's constant visits with Fontaine. His master plan to find out what is going on? Kill Phil. Yep, that's his plan. To be fair, the guy is a prison guard in a desert prison camp, so clearly he's about as sharp as a sack of wet camels. The reason Fontaine thinks that the cache is nearby is because he has a medallion that a prisoner found in "The Pit"; a hole in the ground that Fontaine likes to drop surprisingly well-fed looking prisoners into. To accomplish the goal of hunting for treasure in The Pit, Phil says he needs 24 hours of freedom. Fontaine agrees to this, but poisons him with cyanic acid, which he says is fatal in 12 hours. I'm not a chemist, so I don't know, but considering the level of bullshit this movie has shovelled on viewers already, I'm a bit skeptical.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33VLaJiV_UXbrn5dw3h2ts3CTiWPiotoREEDO6mU2kGgZCNeN3J0FR5JNjSZkLDH-Q3sUigYW0zJpMD4brKSCYw_vo0sWadKy65-3Df4lqaqJ1MsQNKvklQ493Z67-ET4kyKpTr5MSFgIjvk8NCNIm5yiTjWW-UxCr4iJ24Oq9BCiMfxi5i5s5nmKWNp0/s1676/markofthescorpion_12.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1220" data-original-width="1676" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33VLaJiV_UXbrn5dw3h2ts3CTiWPiotoREEDO6mU2kGgZCNeN3J0FR5JNjSZkLDH-Q3sUigYW0zJpMD4brKSCYw_vo0sWadKy65-3Df4lqaqJ1MsQNKvklQ493Z67-ET4kyKpTr5MSFgIjvk8NCNIm5yiTjWW-UxCr4iJ24Oq9BCiMfxi5i5s5nmKWNp0/s320/markofthescorpion_12.png" width="320" /></a></div>While driving away from the prison, Phil manages to get beaten up by Maria's husband without leaving the Jeep and is unconscious for 6 hours! So that means shit is going to get into gear, right? Nope! Instead Phil casually drives out to see his hand-chopping buddy in the middle of the desert who gives him a history lesson about an earthquake that happened in the region during the reign of Cleopatra. I'm not sure what baffles me more: the fact that an ancient history expert is hanging out in the middle of the desert hacking off hands or the fact that we are expected to believe that an <i>earthquake</i> caused all of Cleopatra's treasure to horizontally move 3000 miles! After some incredibly dull car trouble, Phil heads back to jail where his unnamed Scorpion buddy looking at the marks from his encounter with Maria's husband says "who did that to you?" to which Phil replies "some guy." Did I mention Phil has a wit like a razor?<br />Scorp dude: "Promise me one thing; should the time ever come, Kemal is mine."<br />Phil: "Um-hm."<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGZm4P9PF1BKZGoLTcOmNma8uHZUteJi2jUro8GONLCogTIJmg7t2JUBzqkW-7Oa_UujcRto2bMP_j26or1S_nRHoIFOHd91duXCyJK7DFXSAqfuT9bBmcc2Hl1fradMoDM3Wb70AuKI3J1YtDFTAXktNmTUYCXE0XPRs6br_ktjhxW7eVZVj4IoQmN8W/s1669/markofthescorpion_05.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1212" data-original-width="1669" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGZm4P9PF1BKZGoLTcOmNma8uHZUteJi2jUro8GONLCogTIJmg7t2JUBzqkW-7Oa_UujcRto2bMP_j26or1S_nRHoIFOHd91duXCyJK7DFXSAqfuT9bBmcc2Hl1fradMoDM3Wb70AuKI3J1YtDFTAXktNmTUYCXE0XPRs6br_ktjhxW7eVZVj4IoQmN8W/s320/markofthescorpion_05.png" width="320" /></a></div>Finally we get into a little action as Phil and Scorp Bro get the prison to riot while they sneak scuba tanks (which weren't invented for another seven years) into The Pit. After travelling through a waterfilled tunnel, they find themselves in some dangerous caves. Why are they dangerous? Phil and Scorp Bro have this exchange to explain:<br />Phil: "Hold on, with Cleopatra you can't be too careful."<br />Scorp: "What does that mean?"<br />Phil: "She was an expert in traps!"<br />After finding a chest, the cave starts to crumble and Phil shouts "Run!" Just kidding! Phil, blasé as ever, says "The old girl sure knew her traps." Yeah, everybody knows that.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ceoUyY4U8cFBFxrIQBBadwNvyRX1MUPh86jG0HH5LzyTIn_BihgFA_yREeZUkTfAnXM92a2TSllXOzCwmkb9_hdu93lWcWmgoWa_-3lhgujxA0FHExlQVlnQsoRSgGibwtO3UczPB7ao5MgKjrf7iqbbIuSmtSgR-l7Mqov8lxc6lwV5j6ymIm_G2Q8z/s1676/markofthescorpion_15b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1220" data-original-width="1676" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ceoUyY4U8cFBFxrIQBBadwNvyRX1MUPh86jG0HH5LzyTIn_BihgFA_yREeZUkTfAnXM92a2TSllXOzCwmkb9_hdu93lWcWmgoWa_-3lhgujxA0FHExlQVlnQsoRSgGibwtO3UczPB7ao5MgKjrf7iqbbIuSmtSgR-l7Mqov8lxc6lwV5j6ymIm_G2Q8z/s320/markofthescorpion_15b.png" width="320" /></a></div>Once back on the surface (Phil planted some dynamite and blows out the entire side of a mountain to escape the crumbling cave), Phil and Scorp Bro open the chest, to find a scroll and some bits of treasure. Phil who has clearly had his brains blown out along with the cliffside, says is worth $2 million! I think Phil needs to find an alternate line of work. Just then Phil's anti-profaner buddy shows up with an army of rifle-toting Berbers. Uh oh, shit's about to get real, right? Ha! You wish! The scroll is just a note left by a grave robber saying that he stole all the treasure, thanks! Phil's Arab buddy decides to take the scroll from the profaners and says he's going to sell it at auction (WHAT?!) and Phil can keep whatever treasure he found. So much for this dude's faith, sheesh.<p></p><p>This white-knuckle adventure comes to a close with Phil and Maria on a ship and Maria telling him that she is going to spend all of his money in America and "didn't you say you'd kiss a cobra? Now you're going to marry one." And again... WHAT?! Are we supposed to cheer at this point? I guess it's just a way to explain the title MEGLIO BACIARE UN COBRA (BETTER TO KISS A COBRA), but man, if my married hook-up got me framed and sent to a desert prison camp, the only ring she'd get from me is a lifepreserver after I throw her off the bow of the ship.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfJSqxsbBPmrM-UJ4HvRgVrmlKgBEgGSkPdI24Nr5yqdWGjow7NwihEnZc9SPdzIHQ1e0GZC64xBKJF2q5LB0x-dpYOLGc59T70zZOnjI6BRgcUiccm2gWBXKo4LTH2DPaL7chQngwHSy4_0uK96DU2O9Vrz9IvkL_M2X1PqOIb7XzQmvgTDzQzjeugj6/s2456/markofthescorpion_19.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2456" data-original-width="1672" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfJSqxsbBPmrM-UJ4HvRgVrmlKgBEgGSkPdI24Nr5yqdWGjow7NwihEnZc9SPdzIHQ1e0GZC64xBKJF2q5LB0x-dpYOLGc59T70zZOnjI6BRgcUiccm2gWBXKo4LTH2DPaL7chQngwHSy4_0uK96DU2O9Vrz9IvkL_M2X1PqOIb7XzQmvgTDzQzjeugj6/w273-h400/markofthescorpion_19.png" width="273" /></a></div>I always talk about us scraping the bottom of the barrel, but damn this one left me with splinters under my nails. In addition to being lethargically paced and stunningly bereft of action and adventure in an action-adventure movie, American actor Andy J. Forest is quite possibly the worst possible pick for an action hero. Or really any role. Inexplicably, he made a small career for himself in Italian exploitation movies, several with Umberto Lenzi. He moves like a sloth on lithium and manages to look incredibly bored even when he's being punched in the face. Though, maybe the movie was as exciting to make as it was to watch. Making this even worse (or maybe better) is the fact that the English dubber clearly didn't think much of Andy either and gives him a voice that sounds like that of a lazy child, which I have to say is a perfect choice. We also have Milly D'Abbraccio popping up occasionally, but strangely doesn't show an inch of skin even in the bedroom sequence. I realize Italians have a much more open and accepting attitude towards adult stars, and maybe they thought this would bring some folks into theaters, but if that were the case, why is there no nudity? Seems a little odd. We also have veteran actor Paul Muller who, while no stranger to schlock, must have wondered how he had sunk from Jess Franco to this.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EHLCW6JnhNmVDPbY8ScKv8hsC0G7oKLHfYzukfoNLe1Zbc5vrNqiiBwawKdubGCpzBP8m-i9NskrIlxWQqKnCX2R-_qh0hTx0XCa1TbI93EmC2pPnbmPAPPyOhCsI--PKPTZR6g60i-RMg0LUKGPp5YVnh2qnAJSHMe0cFuX0JtZPi5z5_idkj1As-x8/s2350/markofthescorpion_20.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2350" data-original-width="1412" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EHLCW6JnhNmVDPbY8ScKv8hsC0G7oKLHfYzukfoNLe1Zbc5vrNqiiBwawKdubGCpzBP8m-i9NskrIlxWQqKnCX2R-_qh0hTx0XCa1TbI93EmC2pPnbmPAPPyOhCsI--PKPTZR6g60i-RMg0LUKGPp5YVnh2qnAJSHMe0cFuX0JtZPi5z5_idkj1As-x8/w240-h400/markofthescorpion_20.png" width="240" /></a></div>Also, I know the filmmakers in those days rarely had anything to do with the artwork, but somebody has to take the blame for it! There are a couple of variations, but none tell the ugly truth. There is no blond woman, in blue outfits or not; there are no shotguns; our hero doesn't have brown hair; our hero doesn't have muscles, and never wears an outfit as shown; there is no scene of a person dressed like Indiana Jones repelling with a rope down a giant statue of Amenhotep; and while we're at it, there is no sun with a city surrounding it and the words "New York Video" on it. Unsurprisingly this has never been released to optical media and as such has an incredibly poor VHS transfer that crops off a huge amount of the image on the left and right sides of the screen, like many Italian genre films on home video, without even bothering to pan & scan. Additionally the image is fuzzy and blown out, adding insult to injury. Since it has zero exploitation value, it's no surprise that it's become so hard to come by, but considering what some of the shovelware that boutique blu-ray labels are mega-hyping and over-charging for these days, hell, we may just see this arrive in a 4K UHD remaster. Consider this fair warning.<p></p></div>Thomas Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16564002523015701936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-48488222194849894152023-06-30T07:08:00.001-07:002023-06-30T08:31:35.176-07:00Dr. Jones I Presume: THE RETURN OF INDIANA JOAN (1989)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQozjVSZCE3qnDTOf8heHUIlTgEz2hOClYUG6IxrzQ0uak66o_nnZU4gXr55dv1MMDDRKoYrcsMcKhQd5ja2LnLwGSY2M8u5RHiBUlk9zo650GPNC4e786oYzryzOOpEg2eFyEMtAF7g1g_7UvOAgw2FH-7wa8L6lbapfKDhnEhpaVHeUykRzZ2eqDws/s1536/returnofindianajoan1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="1008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQozjVSZCE3qnDTOf8heHUIlTgEz2hOClYUG6IxrzQ0uak66o_nnZU4gXr55dv1MMDDRKoYrcsMcKhQd5ja2LnLwGSY2M8u5RHiBUlk9zo650GPNC4e786oYzryzOOpEg2eFyEMtAF7g1g_7UvOAgw2FH-7wa8L6lbapfKDhnEhpaVHeUykRzZ2eqDws/s320/returnofindianajoan1.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>Hard to believe it has been almost thirteen years since we began the important archaeological task of covering Indiana Jones rip-offs. We promised to be thorough and explore every cinematic crypt to find any and everything that had a tinge of Dr. Jones. That included the often scorned world of adult entertainment. Pivotal to that quest (at least in terms of blog views) was the elusive <a href="https://www.videojunkie.org/2014/09/dr-jones-i-presume-indiana-joan-in.html"><span style="color: red;">INDIANA JOAN AND THE BLACK HOLE OF MAMMOO (1984)</span></a>. Not only was it the first of the X-rated Indiana Jones parodies, but it was part of an alleged trilogy from director Vince Benedetti. The two sequels remained even more elusive, but we always had top men on the lookout for them. In a stroke (haha) of good fortune, the intervening years saw the first sequel surface and we felt it was necessary to get the first online review out to the masses. So grab your, uh, whips and prepare for THE RETURN OF INDIANA JOAN!<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4Y1U3ouFlizvzIH2GXolhs8OwzvgU4HDAakRf7IDOuXJOMaD-gCiavAlSIeSH7s1tPa6c2hAObVfsHWa9nTgwRgC21RDsdH-BxWosK3aOCzpfoT9XJ_XBE7iM1A0ejxinoTsqqKH6EBCQdSazZaC4MD-7a1iGxfvaYjEZSebSWOJjlZNpM-cSnw0uc0/s930/returnofindianajoan2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="801" data-original-width="930" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4Y1U3ouFlizvzIH2GXolhs8OwzvgU4HDAakRf7IDOuXJOMaD-gCiavAlSIeSH7s1tPa6c2hAObVfsHWa9nTgwRgC21RDsdH-BxWosK3aOCzpfoT9XJ_XBE7iM1A0ejxinoTsqqKH6EBCQdSazZaC4MD-7a1iGxfvaYjEZSebSWOJjlZNpM-cSnw0uc0/s320/returnofindianajoan2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The film opens in the most dangerous jungle of all: the urban jungle! Yes, we get camcorder shots of vintage 1980s New York City over the opening credits. Special tip of the hat to Benedetti for including a marquee shot of a theater showing the Michael Caine Sherlock Holmes comedy WITHOUT A CLUE (1988) to pinpoint the exact year of filming. If you have a fetish for shots of shoes on the sidewalk or business men in trench coats, this footage is totally for you. Anyway, we cut into an office where the now-blonde Indiana Joan (Porsche Lynn, replacing MAMMOO’s Barbie Dahl) is getting it on with her boss, Diamond Jim (Rick Savage). It starts with a prolonged sequence where he sucks on her nylon covered feet, which is about as erotic as you’d expect from late-80s video photography of Savage (see pic). As things start to get hot-and-heavy, Joan accidentally switches on the intercom and the moaning and groaning turns on Jim’s secretary. Lucky for her a random dude shows up and we soon have dueling sex scenes. This actually results in a clever (for porn, anyway) shot-in-shot video effect showing the eavesdroppers on the screen. Yes, SESAME STREET level, but kind of groundbreaking for a shot-on-video adult feature. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoW_O9z49EOS-uPJ0T3qIUImE17aiqyLmNLe_uAi_mYMHp4O9sD3Z463Gm1sRV3Z_YY2sZq8EPeW6TTAax7S1K6K55JPlXK1hm6aiN7b09Kbur9dnIWDCd06VDWKAIKCz77BlRQ3QYXsqQMHzAl68p2TDjpOu8EOrCLBlxHRrAuD2hS4XUX-rcqECIWXQ/s927/returnofindianajoan3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="927" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoW_O9z49EOS-uPJ0T3qIUImE17aiqyLmNLe_uAi_mYMHp4O9sD3Z463Gm1sRV3Z_YY2sZq8EPeW6TTAax7S1K6K55JPlXK1hm6aiN7b09Kbur9dnIWDCd06VDWKAIKCz77BlRQ3QYXsqQMHzAl68p2TDjpOu8EOrCLBlxHRrAuD2hS4XUX-rcqECIWXQ/w400-h310/returnofindianajoan3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><p>Finally around the 24-minute mark, we get the first indication of a plot. Just as things are reaching their climax, Jim tells Joan he has an assignment for her. “This is a big one! Look, I know it is short notice, but the museum called this morning and…” he says right before the film smash cuts to the other sex scene. Holy crap! Did I just blue balled on a plot point? When we finally get back to Joan, she says, “How could I say no with that big thing inside of me? But you could just send that new girl you just hired? Should I buzz her in?” What the heck is going on here? Not only do we not know what Indiana Joan’s quest is, but she is actively trying to talk herself out of a job. “You leave tonight,” he counters. “Catch the first train to Morocco. Then it’s on to Egypt. They’ve got an orthodontal dig going on there.” (insert sound of a VHS tape being rewound) Wait a sec…did this mofo in New York just say to catch the first train to Morocco? Yes, he did. What is the going train rate from New York to North Africa? And, excuse me, what the holy hell is an “orthodontal” dig? To quote Jack Burton, “I don’t even know what the hell that means!” Okay, this can’t get any more confusing can it? “Yes!” screams director Benedetti. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbO5ko-b_Zo_Px1mPsFi6fzlWTtf4cr32RH8jiYR35O587cG4cFDPc2ahfQSdU71Z5FwWqkJJT3ocpGFlJ4JV_9WDlYcG1HRwxgcKwH7YZgcTnGUZNoQArdIAaCwscdyel4vJfOa6z0zbiQ_6vtzMTn9P2VKXDoXIUcnNH4wIZYTVJXUK6_6olJDBxYs/s927/returnofindianajoan4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="927" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbO5ko-b_Zo_Px1mPsFi6fzlWTtf4cr32RH8jiYR35O587cG4cFDPc2ahfQSdU71Z5FwWqkJJT3ocpGFlJ4JV_9WDlYcG1HRwxgcKwH7YZgcTnGUZNoQArdIAaCwscdyel4vJfOa6z0zbiQ_6vtzMTn9P2VKXDoXIUcnNH4wIZYTVJXUK6_6olJDBxYs/s320/returnofindianajoan4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We then cut to outer space (yes, outer space!) where Captain Kurt (Randy Paul) is guiding his ship with his number one Aurora (Stormi, if that is your real name). In the film’s lone intentional joke, Aurora announces over the ship’s PA system, “Please man…or lady your flight stations, whatever your preference.” Benedetti, take a bow in order to miss the rotten vegetables being thrown at you. Before they can make their way to their destination, the Captain receives a message from planet Earth that there is a passenger to beam up. When Aurora asks who it is, we get this classic exchange:<p></p><p>Captain: Beats me although I heard she’s female.</p><p>Aurora: Wow, an earthling female? We haven’t seen one of those in eons. Should be terrific.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9i2vF1Ea0ap33P5099P4MO-3gvXwVlACOa3ZXbnXN2FYCRLsy3hxkjRg6NGUoAKB8X_0z3XdleBTedxA8LLDtA3hH_53JvP9mmBhhXppx_APISkroTZqJ-nFm_CiwvVKoCI5si9HeoIyKriq-65zjYktwAa3lh2GZNVJ6rSTcGpFphldoszRoPwraS4/s924/returnofindianajoan5.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="924" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_9i2vF1Ea0ap33P5099P4MO-3gvXwVlACOa3ZXbnXN2FYCRLsy3hxkjRg6NGUoAKB8X_0z3XdleBTedxA8LLDtA3hH_53JvP9mmBhhXppx_APISkroTZqJ-nFm_CiwvVKoCI5si9HeoIyKriq-65zjYktwAa3lh2GZNVJ6rSTcGpFphldoszRoPwraS4/s320/returnofindianajoan5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The earthling female in question beams aboard and it is Indiana Joan dressed in nothing but leather bra and panties and with a whip. Flight surgeon Kim (Siobhan -- gesundheit! -- Hunter) shows up to inspect the new arrival and soon we have a full blown four-way happening on the transporter (a black 1980s bed). Emphasis on the blown here as Kim’s preferred method of foreplay is using straws to blow on Joan. I’d make a straw joke here, but they all suck. After everyone has reached the final frontier, Joan is beamed back to Earth. Surely this bizarre plot tangent will figure later into the film, right? “Nope!” screams director Benedetti. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRg07QCHrJ-NfqwErMnHUJu_9DVwLh1AuVlKEFnf-pdrZRfS6lGJfvKI0bDnd4HAK0bynOzCoiIuekXD-Qf4rsylDwmonRosQBEU3PFn5eNL5SlSOA0RJv_x7p1zIJq2T3IlIqdxW7N8fNKrhsjphOY2AUAkmN8f6ZYl9m8bH-rv2XfGtwPSnu4ND20g/s927/returnofindianajoan6.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="801" data-original-width="927" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRg07QCHrJ-NfqwErMnHUJu_9DVwLh1AuVlKEFnf-pdrZRfS6lGJfvKI0bDnd4HAK0bynOzCoiIuekXD-Qf4rsylDwmonRosQBEU3PFn5eNL5SlSOA0RJv_x7p1zIJq2T3IlIqdxW7N8fNKrhsjphOY2AUAkmN8f6ZYl9m8bH-rv2XfGtwPSnu4ND20g/w320-h277/returnofindianajoan6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Jump back to Earth (!) and we see Carter (David Morris) telling Anna (Melissa Murray) he has to break his dinner date with her because Indiana Joan has a job for him. We still don’t know what it is, but we get a hint when Carter mentions it is a “treasure hunt” before he and Anna go on their own treasure hunt on the couch. We then cut to some travelog footage of Egypt and camels before we see an Egyptian Prince Toto (Joe Simmons) inside his royal chamber using a mortar and pestle while his servant girl lights some candles. Denim-clad Joan and Carter traipse through the jungle, which is probably the woods behind the production studio in New York. Authenticity is established when they spot the entrance and behind them is clearly a chain link fence. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWZfE988DM1PoJrSryzuRwferUgpavsO1YUiXA76ZeM8deWTEqnGKWYeu7g3XRkmCpvTEkF7ceeWrvIUPkilxbAN1QkyRDofd3-ChwB4UHHPoz9BdELYilNx6QJb53lEOsOWTn58HnUO-qoF0QvcWBhj1znu-oACGRTXsGMrXb9amLBk5p1F1RKhpnGk/s930/returnofindianajoan8.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="796" data-original-width="930" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWZfE988DM1PoJrSryzuRwferUgpavsO1YUiXA76ZeM8deWTEqnGKWYeu7g3XRkmCpvTEkF7ceeWrvIUPkilxbAN1QkyRDofd3-ChwB4UHHPoz9BdELYilNx6QJb53lEOsOWTn58HnUO-qoF0QvcWBhj1znu-oACGRTXsGMrXb9amLBk5p1F1RKhpnGk/w400-h343/returnofindianajoan8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPJCul5u3-6IbVOPCHDk8Ur_yGMMvLbC_OioYlfWnYBcx8hh-pC_vSeY4Bhh-qyefTW5oZV8uqBLtssXumwBCpyLXcnWx0fyAd-V7-VGCo1JOE-zCR_2pvFtUX1FCG_hZ3qEnQwnPeWmsPjHEOfNkfY03vB0I6taqgekgDoeLTfOl6RYBdifDrCao4Cw/s928/returnofindianajoan9.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="713" data-original-width="928" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPJCul5u3-6IbVOPCHDk8Ur_yGMMvLbC_OioYlfWnYBcx8hh-pC_vSeY4Bhh-qyefTW5oZV8uqBLtssXumwBCpyLXcnWx0fyAd-V7-VGCo1JOE-zCR_2pvFtUX1FCG_hZ3qEnQwnPeWmsPjHEOfNkfY03vB0I6taqgekgDoeLTfOl6RYBdifDrCao4Cw/s320/returnofindianajoan9.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The duo climb down the rope into the soundstage…er, authentic Egyptian tomb and Joan exclaims, “There’s the secret scepter. We’ve got to seize it.” By God, Jim, we finally get the plot at the 59-minute mark! Up until this point we had no idea what Indiana Joan was after. Now we will surely find out why this scepter is secret, right? “Fat chance!” cackles director Benedetti. Okay, let’s speed this up: Joan and Carter are immediately captured and she is forced into a three-way with the Prince and his servant; Joan is thrown into a cell with Carter but entices the guard to come in for another three-way; Joan and Carter escape and snag the scepter after which he says, “There’s a secret passage way out this way.” THE END!</div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR5Ta28l6KZNakrc29q_zc8ABNFxutbEZA26aVSA8U6rydb44srvPNM25E_wE9DGsJmM1Moz6-df5Q4-9mNGF0QEDKn33BiUk004Z0iVFmWcDDK4mslMmp44k5zs8NldHRuTirHqqYsE59QJfE0I-w-esl4N_faDejUhyGp30m7wuE6QKjPjyg5qZS-iA/s923/returnofindianajoan14.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="798" data-original-width="923" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR5Ta28l6KZNakrc29q_zc8ABNFxutbEZA26aVSA8U6rydb44srvPNM25E_wE9DGsJmM1Moz6-df5Q4-9mNGF0QEDKn33BiUk004Z0iVFmWcDDK4mslMmp44k5zs8NldHRuTirHqqYsE59QJfE0I-w-esl4N_faDejUhyGp30m7wuE6QKjPjyg5qZS-iA/s320/returnofindianajoan14.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Well, Indiana Joan indeed returned. You have to admire that at some point in 1988 that producer-director Benedetti read that Spielberg and Lucas were filming a third Indiana Jones film for release in 1989 and said, “Okay, we’re getting the band back together.” Of course, you have to revoke any admiration when you see the final product. It seems the only returning elements here are lots of flesh and a bumbling Benedetti. Despite having ten more features under his belt since the first Indiana Joan feature, Benedetti still struggles to make a decent film. One of my complaints about the first film is that the cover had Indiana Joan whip-in-hand, ready for action only to not give her a whip at all. Well, the new Joan gets a whip that is shown prominently in two scenes…and never gets used! Doubly disappointing when the lead is now the attractive Porsche Lynn. This laziness carries over to the script (if there was one). Seriously, you can’t make any Indiana Jones jokes or references? Nobody was smart enough to whip up some puns? Lack of comedy combined with haphazard editing and mangled audio (you can actually hear Benedetti giving direction at certain points) and you have a miserable experience. Yes, more depressing than realizing you are reviewing an adult flick and looking for plot. I’m not asking for high art from an Indiana Jones porn parody, but seriously can you imagine what a Chuck Vincent Indiana Jones spoof from this era would have looked like? (That sound you hear is tears streaming down Tom’s cheeks.)<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7Qj3NA_4FGJtR5x6dYHwUA4-WHuanX9GTcS4qK_0iRjgQhspN7QNLdR8NOuDZz8GHt88x2MK5QI_RWsFGw8RDFzZKiwKfqMb9wyirKTNboeMP79iUbd23_90uTG1d21HAVOgvjQwcild-CVto7RGdkUzVnEgVF6ZxV0UBezzzjvjzD7pnp9_6pbwlug/s926/returnofindianajoan13.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="926" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7Qj3NA_4FGJtR5x6dYHwUA4-WHuanX9GTcS4qK_0iRjgQhspN7QNLdR8NOuDZz8GHt88x2MK5QI_RWsFGw8RDFzZKiwKfqMb9wyirKTNboeMP79iUbd23_90uTG1d21HAVOgvjQwcild-CVto7RGdkUzVnEgVF6ZxV0UBezzzjvjzD7pnp9_6pbwlug/s320/returnofindianajoan13.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>If I have to give this film any credit, it is that it contains the most out of this world (and out of nowhere) sex scene. The film’s dalliance with sci-fi is so shoehorned in that I can only imagine Benedetti walked into Adventure Studios in New York, saw a leftover sci-fi set and thought, “Okay, we can work with this.” This is the king of “most random sex scenes,” which says a lot in the world of porno. To paraphrase James Karen in RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD (1985): “Oh, kid, I have seen random sex scenes come and I have seen random sex scenes go. But the randomest sex scene I ever saw just had to cap it all. Did you see that movie THE RETURN OF INDIANA JOAN?” To the director’s credit, he beat George Lucas to the inclusion of aliens by nearly 20 years. Unless Lucas drew inspiration from this film. Hmmm, Georgie, you got some ‘splain to do! The film ends with the promise of a third film titled INDIANA JOAN IN THE GOLDEN TRIANGLE. Actually a brilliant title, but whether or not it exists is a source of question as the Internet Adult Film Database only lists one person (Porsche Lynn) starring in it and has no scene breakdowns or cover images.This suggests it happened in thought only, which is probably best for my sanity.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjWTfFo490yyJJ2xiYGvavrQrlat9y8_Le9pNzgN9LE0XgwAy1_XP4PrGCDz2lEGHMKl2Yq-S7X18lKHVR0mrg67kCplte9PlphlPqKDLTnap485sthwHALNPWLKqagqxP0UmwKg38W4s_U3DKGs4bUARzHPCSH59j9x6CADhITJF4xDmF2bt0CengPY/s927/returnofindianajoan12.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="715" data-original-width="927" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUjWTfFo490yyJJ2xiYGvavrQrlat9y8_Le9pNzgN9LE0XgwAy1_XP4PrGCDz2lEGHMKl2Yq-S7X18lKHVR0mrg67kCplte9PlphlPqKDLTnap485sthwHALNPWLKqagqxP0UmwKg38W4s_U3DKGs4bUARzHPCSH59j9x6CADhITJF4xDmF2bt0CengPY/w400-h309/returnofindianajoan12.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p>William S. Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17735697605016894400noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-82500045528859462872020-12-31T08:00:00.005-08:002022-12-25T11:48:53.044-08:00December to Dismember: SCARY LITTLE FUCKERS (2015), NIGHT OF THE KRAMPUS (2013), SUGARPLUM (2017)<p> Hey, remember when you were a kid and about a week after Christmas your mom would throw a present in front of you and say, “I just found this.” This is the cyber-version of that. We can’t tell you the number of times we clicked on a cool looking poster on Amazon Prime, only to be disappointed the attached film is a two-minute short. Yes, we're looking at you CHRISTMAS PRESENCE (2017) and STIRRING (2018). However, to prove we are not total micro-phobes, we end the year looking at some Christmas horror shorts.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">SCARY LITTLE FUCKERS (2015)</span></b></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ocvCuiVaUenCsfEhJnQ4cpZ0ih-krEPoJGAXku5lgL8-Ft_om2U_KlBNJ8hmey-UToR3_KPznWkWEIcy8vioFj6JjnjAUqu1Ehd86C9Nuu1MF-6n6M18nmjHG3Dq3D1C81LkOPECdNk/s748/scary1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="748" data-original-width="582" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ocvCuiVaUenCsfEhJnQ4cpZ0ih-krEPoJGAXku5lgL8-Ft_om2U_KlBNJ8hmey-UToR3_KPznWkWEIcy8vioFj6JjnjAUqu1Ehd86C9Nuu1MF-6n6M18nmjHG3Dq3D1C81LkOPECdNk/s320/scary1.jpg" /></a></div>Clearly drawing its inspiration from GREMLINS (1984), SCARY LITTLE FUCKERS opens with a drunk father stumbling into a curiosity shop looking for a gift for his 15-year-old son. “I have some kites in the back,” says the zit-marked owner, to which the dad replies, “I didn't say he was retarded. I said he was fifteen.” Ha! Okay, so it’s going to be one of those kinds of films. Instead of a tethered treat, the dad focuses on a pair of unseen creatures held in cages. The owner says they are rare creatures called Fookahs and relents on giving them to the father but with the warning they can never be put in the same cage together. At home his son Kyle (Josh Fontaine) is still despondent over his mother’s suicide last year, but invites over Peggy (Anna Rizzo) to see the Fookahs. Naturally, she immediately demands to see what happens when you put them together and soon scary little Fookahs are running amok in the house.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm6i5LWwp_6J2sImThUdMK7bYYIBD2KjjU3dvTACJ5kym0hfqHD_JweOamIbwPDILZAUt0JAqEm-iHdKrCfzHWR9kURaiDtSZ-r7h68RLEhJ8A5XLYyx3UKfqgzmCRWRq4DV8llDk76z4/s1280/scary3.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="1280" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm6i5LWwp_6J2sImThUdMK7bYYIBD2KjjU3dvTACJ5kym0hfqHD_JweOamIbwPDILZAUt0JAqEm-iHdKrCfzHWR9kURaiDtSZ-r7h68RLEhJ8A5XLYyx3UKfqgzmCRWRq4DV8llDk76z4/w400-h223/scary3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Running a scant 23-minutes, this short by Nathan Suher declares its maturity level in the opening crawl with the credit “...and Monica Saviolakis as Lesbian Dr. Anne.” Why on Earth would I care if she was a...doctor? Haha. This horror-comedy <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KR-sYXFSPuF_M8rVR1u4WDFxfCZuDjVT_8RaUyVRy22hGRrdIUvG0TV3sAUG5Vc8gIbJwc0NYomFcNHexFm9UH3qOWrg15-0au_AGnUakrmPuGv7KHzGQdLSwmtZ7EjRhbeJz5iouMw/s1280/scary4.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="1280" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KR-sYXFSPuF_M8rVR1u4WDFxfCZuDjVT_8RaUyVRy22hGRrdIUvG0TV3sAUG5Vc8gIbJwc0NYomFcNHexFm9UH3qOWrg15-0au_AGnUakrmPuGv7KHzGQdLSwmtZ7EjRhbeJz5iouMw/w400-h223/scary4.jpg" width="400" /></a>moves at a pretty fast clip and keeps the goofy jokes coming fast and furious. I liked Fontaine as the obviously-not-fifteen son and Rich Tretheway is funny as the lascivious drunk dad. One gag even got a genuine laugh out of me as the father and son head into a fallout shelter and it is the exact same living room we saw earlier. “I wanted it to feel like home,” says the dad. Clever bit and clever filmmaking cheat. The Fookahs are goofy little creatures, looking kind of like Krites from the CRITTERS films crossed with that hairy monster sidekick from THE DARK CRYSTAL. The production values are pretty solid and the flick actually ends right when things get interesting as dad and son emerge from the shelter with plenty of guns to take on the beasts. I actually kind of wish the filmmakers had expanded this into a feature film. The end credits promise the Fookahs will return, but as of Christmas 2020 these mutherfooking Fookahs have laid dormant. - William Wilson<div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">NIGHT OF THE KRAMPUS (2013)</b></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_VR-qkUt1C4V54WM_lAllCeATY2boPl3DjscPAMNN5FjDhbkbavKdJb8UoLLj2CbYdglYQZyUdg6ih04ruCRxMm2cTyeIIlzeAvZRxS3MxC7c8AweKg71ISyXDqOPH2G7w7FRTtASw0/s1196/nightofthekrampus_vod.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="966" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_VR-qkUt1C4V54WM_lAllCeATY2boPl3DjscPAMNN5FjDhbkbavKdJb8UoLLj2CbYdglYQZyUdg6ih04ruCRxMm2cTyeIIlzeAvZRxS3MxC7c8AweKg71ISyXDqOPH2G7w7FRTtASw0/s320/nightofthekrampus_vod.jpg" /></a></div>Like so many other things in cinematic life, if you love it, then somebody else loves it and like as not, that someone else is a hamfisted idiot. If you enjoy science fiction, J.J. Abrams has repeatedly crushed your insignificant little soul. At the other end of the spectrum, if you like Krampus, there are so many hacks willing to destroy your dark Christmas dreams. Or at least completely use the character as a marketing tool, relegated to a throw-away role while the videomakers focus on what they consider to be the more interesting elements.<p></p><p>Rue Morgan (Khristian Fulmer) is an undead 1930's guy (I'm guessing based on his outfit), who has been cursed to be a graveyard caretaker for all eternity to keep an eye out for supernatural occurrences (other than his own, I'm assuming). Aside from the (I presume) general manager and romantic interest, Claire Renfield (Erin Lilley), not to be confused with Claire Redfield, Rue's BFF is a skeleton torso with attached skull by the name of Herbie West who wears hats and cracks wise while strapped to Rue's back. This is an awful lot of set-up and an awful lot of surmise on the viewer's part, because as it turns out this is actually a sequel to a short from writer-director Thomas Smith, titled THE NIGHT SHIFT (2009), which was in 2011 expanded to a longer short with the same title. I am also assuming that "Thomas Smith" is his government issued witness relocation name, so that nobody in Hollywood will ever be able to find him.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSTYumxSF7_0l6M4VWx-1LzVYnLv_F3LjvDaeepmcs953KwKG90eFasCGiblbdORbaRqZvzKe269pvppVCW4lbnHLjxzzEg_8md3uzHOkbDS94m3I2A4qglcQQP5DW_G9F92j8iRK_b2I/s1602/nightofthekrampus_03.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1602" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSTYumxSF7_0l6M4VWx-1LzVYnLv_F3LjvDaeepmcs953KwKG90eFasCGiblbdORbaRqZvzKe269pvppVCW4lbnHLjxzzEg_8md3uzHOkbDS94m3I2A4qglcQQP5DW_G9F92j8iRK_b2I/w400-h223/nightofthekrampus_03.png" width="400" /></a></div>This time out, our supernatural guardians are investigating the disappearance of neighborhood children who have all gone missing on Christmas. Never mind that Krampus Night is December 5th. After poking around houses and interviewing a little girl who was not at all perturbed about witnessing Krampus coming down the chimney and shoving her brother Bobby into a sack, they realize that there is a Swedish Krampus worshiping cult (well, one dude) in the neighborhood who is summoning Krampus with a ritual "Alpine summoning goblet" (a Spirit store skull bowl). This all leads to Rue brawling with a hoodie-wearing cultist, who couldn't afford a robe, I guess, who summons Krampus (in Swedish!) which leads to Rue brawling with Krampus. Uhh, you guys know that the Alps are not in Sweden, right?</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-QVBex12ZA0e642qQoClWYLoeZ2O4ofryz4gqiqjhf1TwrSeWSc10GaUdtu4sbEIHHrC-UQkR23VP7jWzxVukqQ9wPcIwx4V7Ari-Ho4QBs9HBUj_oRYHQyuM7KDiplX9GNVvuGephI/s1602/nightofthekrampus_04b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-QVBex12ZA0e642qQoClWYLoeZ2O4ofryz4gqiqjhf1TwrSeWSc10GaUdtu4sbEIHHrC-UQkR23VP7jWzxVukqQ9wPcIwx4V7Ari-Ho4QBs9HBUj_oRYHQyuM7KDiplX9GNVvuGephI/s320/nightofthekrampus_04b.png" width="320" /></a></div>I have to say, there is a lot to nitpick here, with stuff like getting the legends a little wrong, not informing audiences that this is a sequel, the real villain being some random dude, and a sharp decline in jokes during the last act. That said I kind of enjoyed the first 10 minutes or so when the jokes were rolling in at a steady pace and Herbie, our semi-skeleton, was cracking wise. Unfortunately as soon as our duo leave Herbie in the car and start wandering around (err, I mean, <i>searching for clues</i>), and subsequently freeing kids, getting into fights, the 30 minute short starts feeling like a half-baked amateur production. I mean, it is - it was an Indiegogo campaign that only made 16% of it's goal, but still, a little bit more effort would have paid off.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZPZ5OiOYLe8BOtK1tuA1kvQoxovESRvp797kQhWzONpeEsiLM_P8ZLuy6YZOh0tI4Cn7Yul1i1sSQJPumg_SIdiNWKQsHL20qNv-kpi2oUtZ_e5yqCO1EtwXuJGr_YeOq9rbcqv5k_c/s673/nightofthekrampus_01.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="520" data-original-width="673" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZPZ5OiOYLe8BOtK1tuA1kvQoxovESRvp797kQhWzONpeEsiLM_P8ZLuy6YZOh0tI4Cn7Yul1i1sSQJPumg_SIdiNWKQsHL20qNv-kpi2oUtZ_e5yqCO1EtwXuJGr_YeOq9rbcqv5k_c/s320/nightofthekrampus_01.png" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTracp__rZXIWxqkYgWjYpMCJVGFWzD8c8n_92aflxClM-AN2f32aLoL7Fgta8MHmjkgwnT_o2G-XgEsuP4TUWk0XJcSKOSOjUbgCCn36LKd0y_rqL2eoyUru-mnRDPC6_IvvLd7dCmDs/s1602/nightofthekrampus_02.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1602" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTracp__rZXIWxqkYgWjYpMCJVGFWzD8c8n_92aflxClM-AN2f32aLoL7Fgta8MHmjkgwnT_o2G-XgEsuP4TUWk0XJcSKOSOjUbgCCn36LKd0y_rqL2eoyUru-mnRDPC6_IvvLd7dCmDs/w400-h223/nightofthekrampus_02.png" width="400" /></a></div>Even with the flaws, I fell into its groove in the first third, before getting kicked out with what seems to be a real lack of interest in the titular subject. Sure they didn't have the money for a Michael Dougherty Krampus costume, but even so, the modified gorilla suit with what looks like a '60s housecoat, is pretty underwhelming, particularly if you've ever seen pics of real Krampus holiday costumes from the Alpine regions. Adding insult to injury, Krampus is just a stooge that gets his ass kicked by a NEWSIES extra and is basically a servant of a suburban hoodie guy. Not very threatening. Honestly, if it had been about Satanists, who actually wore hooded robes, numbered in the multiples (instead of one), and maybe were setting up a human sacrifice or something, even though that would have been more cliched, it would have been more fun and they could have made jokes about the genre. To paraphrase Willie Nelson; Momma's, don't let your babies grow up to be Krampus fans. - Thomas Sueyres<p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">SUGARPLUM (2017)</span></b></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1UNyErJCR2xrkkdyobtglt6tZMoQC9w-roiPw-BDDjkAgFj-Be_KqOhyn8bQOLeGGuMC2bdCpm2dexcA3dXZiq2g14c9HuYGo8dvJdiwz2NvHs1R7Yd6eRSNGsdsC0iT2AYZmndtda0k/s712/sugarplum1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="574" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1UNyErJCR2xrkkdyobtglt6tZMoQC9w-roiPw-BDDjkAgFj-Be_KqOhyn8bQOLeGGuMC2bdCpm2dexcA3dXZiq2g14c9HuYGo8dvJdiwz2NvHs1R7Yd6eRSNGsdsC0iT2AYZmndtda0k/s320/sugarplum1.jpg" /></a></div>Remember that saying about saving the best for last? Well, this is 2020 and that means we are living in Opposite Land. Getting hoodwinked right off the bat, this 47-minute movie is actually an anthology of five different chapters, although three chapters are just the same segment broken up. Yeah, it’s that kind of film. “A Curious Gift” is the first chapter and focuses on Harry (Josiah Liciaga) and Marv (Samuel David Sosa) spending Christmas Eve with their wives, the sisters Claire and Ali. Doing some last minute shopping, Harry and Marv head into an occult store to get something for Harry’s mom (“My mom’s into this type of shit,” he later says). They meet Madame Zena and she offers Harry a burlap sack with the following super realistic dialogue.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Zena: <i>“Have a look. But be warned, what you see is real and what it cautions against should be respected.”</i><br />Harry: <i>“Who the hell are you?”</i><br />Zena: <i>“Madame Zena.”</i><br />Harry: <i>“I’ll take it!”</i></span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOUxF6aghyXZ-mjCz02vE7om4CI2nAYPR4phEnmPjYaP3aVXyd3vRCp28oVmkH-qzTYCiNWDJt6LV0OK8T-S0WkIPafrCZgm90ISIYGL-Z8wdXav6n8TfCq6KXCCzgXFjIl6z1M7IeXI/s1280/sugarplum3.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="1280" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgOUxF6aghyXZ-mjCz02vE7om4CI2nAYPR4phEnmPjYaP3aVXyd3vRCp28oVmkH-qzTYCiNWDJt6LV0OK8T-S0WkIPafrCZgm90ISIYGL-Z8wdXav6n8TfCq6KXCCzgXFjIl6z1M7IeXI/w400-h168/sugarplum3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Once at home, the guys open the bag to find a tiny skeletal Sugar Plum Fairy statue. It comes to life after Harry gets blood on it and kills Ali and Claire. The second chapter “Dark Creations” inexplicably jumps to 1988 as <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDNOmAGejCJRco3nIk9EjqC04n6EqqUerdWy3e5oai0Zix8c0WHQ6i_ILDKNKG0AVZ_P4notb2aDYq2ORV_FClRkeoerKT6cyxl1CZHr8KjeTa5UznpjwVcD9LgBmMAX3ehPlkKOFdjw/s1280/sugarplum7.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="644" data-original-width="1280" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDNOmAGejCJRco3nIk9EjqC04n6EqqUerdWy3e5oai0Zix8c0WHQ6i_ILDKNKG0AVZ_P4notb2aDYq2ORV_FClRkeoerKT6cyxl1CZHr8KjeTa5UznpjwVcD9LgBmMAX3ehPlkKOFdjw/w400-h201/sugarplum7.jpg" width="400" /></a>we see Buford, his sister Maggie and her boyfriend James around a campfire. Buford tells the story of the origin of the Sugar Plum Fairies, which took place a long time ago in the European town of Olden located in an “elusive region called the North” (actual line). He tells of how Krampus attacked the village and St. Nicholas showed up to save them. He is described as follows: “a Viking-like man stood at the edge of the village, garbed in a lavishly dark set of armor and draped with the hides and furs of some ancient and unknown beast. The man’s face was hidden behind the oversized cloak and all that could be seen was a long, ashy beard pouring out from beneath the hood.” Okay, mental exercise time: Close your eyes and imagine what that bad ass would look like and then come back to this review. You’re back? Okay, now prepare yourself how they presented this in the film. Ready? Have a look: <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimeA1gjoKTSazbwzuasX4DLNbwW4H2cGGftfJK3HoSPzOnyZK8kQd1WcR7bw5Mi4AGIwjf7NEcg85Qxzzrggo4QXZB2oN3cBtU50qnvQz0JOCuu5KCu06FjJIeO8Qu2HbYHBCd1wc_ZWc/s686/sugarplum4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="532" data-original-width="686" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimeA1gjoKTSazbwzuasX4DLNbwW4H2cGGftfJK3HoSPzOnyZK8kQd1WcR7bw5Mi4AGIwjf7NEcg85Qxzzrggo4QXZB2oN3cBtU50qnvQz0JOCuu5KCu06FjJIeO8Qu2HbYHBCd1wc_ZWc/w640-h496/sugarplum4.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1de5EJjABmgWo8Sub2AmvLAwcbgwTcGg4qiZQCHKw2DW_sphEmMtiI1Khkog5Xbdw6_qrcxD0VYeaJO4byOf1dAApNpfJqkDlEGUoHJz9SOjr93xB966m8bncL1pzsBopPgcBlmdBb4/s1280/sugarplum5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="534" data-original-width="1280" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1de5EJjABmgWo8Sub2AmvLAwcbgwTcGg4qiZQCHKw2DW_sphEmMtiI1Khkog5Xbdw6_qrcxD0VYeaJO4byOf1dAApNpfJqkDlEGUoHJz9SOjr93xB966m8bncL1pzsBopPgcBlmdBb4/w400-h168/sugarplum5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>(insert <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Jz1TjCphXE"><span style="color: red;">THE PRICE AS RIGHT loser horn</span></a> here) Yup, that is bad ass Ol’ Saint Nick according to this film and he gets into a totally non-epic battle with Krampus that ends with the horned beast creating the demonic Sugar Plum <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJmwF2xKIUcka9hLlDBaQCKJw-MfJyTw7fRw8dP07Rt0QzHGa9GFrAJjH-rPZy6i01HqJ4_PVgtgQPmU6BlgOAhXAEaJ4mAs7t-6HbB2SMpRYMLZ8qMRPz0FQzNepirx0IblLyQ5IT0QU/s1277/sugarplum6.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="653" data-original-width="1277" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJmwF2xKIUcka9hLlDBaQCKJw-MfJyTw7fRw8dP07Rt0QzHGa9GFrAJjH-rPZy6i01HqJ4_PVgtgQPmU6BlgOAhXAEaJ4mAs7t-6HbB2SMpRYMLZ8qMRPz0FQzNepirx0IblLyQ5IT0QU/w400-h205/sugarplum6.jpg" width="400" /></a>Fairy totems. Jeez, shouldn’t this story have been first? Anyway, chapter three is “Dead Before Christmas” and returns us to Harry’s house where he and Marv are killed by the Sugar Plum Fairy, which is now a chick with horns and big teeth. The fourth story is “Not the Loon Squad” and is the shortest. No joke, it is just three rednecks in the woods talking about how they are hunting a fairy. They read a scroll that says they have to kill it before dawn. One guy says, "Let’s just not let her get the drop on us." That is legit the whole story. Oh, it is also randomly set in December 2001. WTF??? The film returns to Harry’s house for the final chapter “Milk & Cookies” as the Sugar Plum Fairy walks through the house before she is stabbed by Santa Claus. The four dead folks wake up at the table and have a drink with Santa.THE END!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrj-5AVf_TZfnwjVHdzMkki5PIDeGG_OO5cFvXnrW5HyQN_dM9Y0mYfEB7BXblFzTUZDH-QE73jJ70Kfzfkq6SBJDtlPyM19bAA792BFAgbWcnvrxb_kkAOKS25pVwMX9t95p-UnFvWM/s1280/sugarplum2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="644" data-original-width="1280" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrj-5AVf_TZfnwjVHdzMkki5PIDeGG_OO5cFvXnrW5HyQN_dM9Y0mYfEB7BXblFzTUZDH-QE73jJ70Kfzfkq6SBJDtlPyM19bAA792BFAgbWcnvrxb_kkAOKS25pVwMX9t95p-UnFvWM/w400-h201/sugarplum2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>MY GAWD!? Where do I even start with this film? I hate to bash an indie filmmaker for actually making something and I feel bad being the first IMDb review, but good lord this was brutal. I guess calling it a film is being generous. Writer-director-editor-producer Brandon Tobatto jokes in the opening credits that the film was “chopped” (aka edited) by him. A more apt term could not be found. SUGARPLUM is a total mess both in terms of editing and storytelling. Why in the hell is the origin story of the fairies the second segment? Why is it set in 1988? Why did you break up one solid segment? Why does the animated Krampus/St. Nick story look like it was drawn by a 5-year-old? Why are Harry and Marv constantly talking about the former house owner having an Easter fetish? Actually, I know the answer for that as, according to the IMDb, Tobatto apparently weaves several of his films together in something called the Looniverse. I’m sure the Marvel Cinematic Universe is shaking in its boots. Matching the scattershot storytelling are the bad acting and out-of-focus shots that make this an all out attack on all five senses. Yes, even touch because you will be slapping yourself for watching this. It is easily the worst thing I’ve seen this year. If you know my viewing habits, that says a lot. If 2020 is the year that threw the entire world a swift and hard kick to the nutsack, ending with this nutcracker as my final viewing is pretty appropriate. - William Wilson</div>Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-61822431016735201572020-12-28T07:47:00.008-08:002022-12-25T13:04:07.556-08:00December to Dismember: THE NIGHTS BEFORE CHRISTMAS (2019)<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYiTkdvJRElDEpkQl371luP1y-Rd42X-Jn41l_K7fCGCk0XPfshx2xRfU70Z_Xgz1BVeDj5dG40-9YXJyGoXADLPDGvTv9sqVb767Fo-YhYki0jan39gmpU4NkNhf4TUP7YCDFW-NeC8U/s800/nights1.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYiTkdvJRElDEpkQl371luP1y-Rd42X-Jn41l_K7fCGCk0XPfshx2xRfU70Z_Xgz1BVeDj5dG40-9YXJyGoXADLPDGvTv9sqVb767Fo-YhYki0jan39gmpU4NkNhf4TUP7YCDFW-NeC8U/w300-h400/nights1.jpg" width="300" /></a><i>[by William S. Wilson] </i></p><p>As we close out our Christmas 2020 reviews, I’m actually coming to a film I was looking forward to. THE NIGHTS BEFORE CHRISTMAS is a sequel to <a href="http://www.videojunkie.org/2018/12/december-to-dismember-once-upon-time-at.html"><span style="color: red;">ONCE UPON A TIME AT CHRISTMAS (2017)</span></a>, which I reviewed a few years back. The story of a sadistic Santa Claus and his missus terrorizing a small town, the original was a combination of naughty and nice. I praised director Paul Tanter for his direction and lead Simon Phillips for his scarred Santa. Unfortunately, it was a slick film built around a script dumber than a stocking full of coal. The sequel - originally announced with the title TWICE UPON A TIME AT CHRISTMAS - arrives a couple years later and guess what? It is twice as good technically and twice as dumb storywise. Hold on to yer Santa hats, this is gonna be a good one.</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7gyQcAfBEfuQzPjs7AoORto5l0JYub3a5iy0_DjKTaKxXXqW7iFn4pxQEy7AvCLbz4Vzm-p9lGW-Bw33GXdbeIGW1IWM0b_EC0cxqUSy44werGNG8yFec482MZiKWtiATVzjwk0wRQ5w/s1280/nights2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="583" data-original-width="1280" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7gyQcAfBEfuQzPjs7AoORto5l0JYub3a5iy0_DjKTaKxXXqW7iFn4pxQEy7AvCLbz4Vzm-p9lGW-Bw33GXdbeIGW1IWM0b_EC0cxqUSy44werGNG8yFec482MZiKWtiATVzjwk0wRQ5w/w400-h183/nights2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The film opens with a “four years ago” card as we see the killer Santa/Nicholas Conway (Phillips) and Mrs. Claus/Michelle Weaver (Sayla de Goede) pull off their fiery escape from a mental hospital referenced in the first film. Cut to present <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg37hqXs8pyurW3deZ5B-meAhezV2CV3apvuQokmzRYf8_kHSBBhrOGRzND_0JDoaUhytWOLiC6smmpB21f25aWF2q5wovrB-uSRZucGp7xXyLMcj5UrZiIIDt4zIOMbVrZXLXoRA6zcc/s1280/nights7.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="547" data-original-width="1280" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg37hqXs8pyurW3deZ5B-meAhezV2CV3apvuQokmzRYf8_kHSBBhrOGRzND_0JDoaUhytWOLiC6smmpB21f25aWF2q5wovrB-uSRZucGp7xXyLMcj5UrZiIIDt4zIOMbVrZXLXoRA6zcc/w400-h171/nights7.jpg" width="400" /></a>day New York City where one of the survivors of the first film, Courtney (Keegan Chambers), has spent the last year hanging out in the city. Her father Jim Beaudin (Michael Coughlan) shows up and begs for her to come back home. On his way back to Woodridge, Jim gets distracted by a malfunctioning radio just as Santa stands in the middle of the road with his axe. Damn, psycho Santa has great timing! Naturally, Jim crashes his car and gets stalked in the woods. Before Santa offs Jim, he states that nothing brings a family back together more than a funeral. Ah, so Santa plans to flush out his estranged daughter Jennifer by killing those sorta-close to her. Genius? Cut to the next day as local law enforcement are examining the scene. They figure it was a drunk driving accident, but that changes when FBI agent Natalie Parker (Kate Schroder) arrives on the scene. She feels it is the work of Santa/Conway and gets her suspicions confirmed when she finds the word “naughty” written in the snow in blood. Somehow every other cop on the scene managed to miss this despite obvious footprints leading to this area.<div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGB0mhLztJLkMJX_v2ibY9XiuTr7XEPg_FuQypzifcKoBmv0czQu2tTia9D7yoUZXUCgzN2FXn1iLk9nwrHALVQY5FyZDzD_zirryJjtsqh730M4zH8kp9imajH3OcL5X6GF8eP7XatFg/s1280/nights3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="546" data-original-width="1280" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGB0mhLztJLkMJX_v2ibY9XiuTr7XEPg_FuQypzifcKoBmv0czQu2tTia9D7yoUZXUCgzN2FXn1iLk9nwrHALVQY5FyZDzD_zirryJjtsqh730M4zH8kp9imajH3OcL5X6GF8eP7XatFg/w640-h272/nights3.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilmedELjpFgcsbDfDYcziaiascj6r7bymrTC2PLuzqlDh1UQodSR1_w75rmLzAnrUHaxCiC4pLvicE7yl4003eX8r_60HtMKkCZ4EctXW0T_1T98eDJRsPwpurPNPuyszTPgNbeu7xiho/s1200/nights6.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilmedELjpFgcsbDfDYcziaiascj6r7bymrTC2PLuzqlDh1UQodSR1_w75rmLzAnrUHaxCiC4pLvicE7yl4003eX8r_60HtMKkCZ4EctXW0T_1T98eDJRsPwpurPNPuyszTPgNbeu7xiho/w400-h225/nights6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We now catch up with the sullen Jennifer (Shannon Cotter), who is in witness protection. Her mom breaks the news to her that her best friend’s dad died via this howler: “Jim Beaudin was killed in a car accident. You know what the roads are like around here and he did like to drink.” Jennifer rightly refuses to attend a funeral related to her hometown Christmas massacre, so her mother guilt shames her by saying, “When your stepfather died the same day as Courtney’s boyfriend, Courtney still showed up to Frank’s funeral. Maybe this isn’t about what you want or what you can do?” Yes, your psychotic ex is still on the loose, so let’s attend a very public event. Thanks, mom. Meanwhile, Santa and Mrs. Claus visit Dr. Monica Mudd (Jennifer Willis), the psychiatrist who treated them in the asylum. During their torture of Dr. Mudd, she screams that her daughter Becky (Anne-Carolyne Binette) will be home soon. The film immediately cuts to Becky walking into a bedroom and having a flashlight blind her. Since this film doesn’t take place in a world where humans act normal, her response to this is immediately start a striptease. What!? After getting topless (yay!) she sees her boyfriend dead and Santa bites her throat after demanding she use the safe word “bite me.” Uh, yeah.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>So Jennifer and her mom are leaving for the funeral. However, their plan of paying respect gets sidelined by the FBI when agent Jack Zimmerman (Marc Gammal) shows up to warn about Santa showing up and we get the following amazing exchange.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Jack: <i>“Lucy McCay?”</i><br />Mom: <i>“Who are you?”</i><br />Jack: <i>“I’m Agent Jack Zimmerman, FBI.”</i><br />Mom: <i>“How the hell did you get in here?”</i><br />Jack: <i>“We have access. It’s a safe house.”</i></span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7XD1mo-DGP3wdttoAFFISTgi4U2cPvxKDgGX56WwkALywQHN90aEdokPjxhevyb2RWOb2JZzffqIvWqSA1nJwIcHQMQYjIWvYN08Bvt-kkekrawTPynLvY8ttd3xiBxfiIYhFwj9kWA/s1280/nights10.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="687" data-original-width="1280" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7XD1mo-DGP3wdttoAFFISTgi4U2cPvxKDgGX56WwkALywQHN90aEdokPjxhevyb2RWOb2JZzffqIvWqSA1nJwIcHQMQYjIWvYN08Bvt-kkekrawTPynLvY8ttd3xiBxfiIYhFwj9kWA/w400-h215/nights10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Yep, pretty sure FBI protocol involves surprising people in witness protection with agents they never met and not calling them in advance or anything. The FBI was right as Mrs. Claus shows up at the funeral where she is caught and the agents begin a multi-car chase as Santa pulls away in a Mustang after being spotted. Just kidding, they send one car after him. When the car is finally stopped, they find out it is Dr. Mudd at the wheel with “nice” carved in her head. Damn, hoodwinked by Santa! This results in my favorite exchange of the film, which I like to imagine is how it would sound if I met the filmmakers.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Zimmerman/me: <i>“It doesn’t make sense.”</i><br />Parker/filmmakers: <i>“Yes, it does!”</i></span><br /><br />Meanwhile, back at the church, it is completely empty and Santa kills the priest because we see a flashback of him molesting Mrs. Claus at the hospital. Whoa, whoa, whoa...hold on now. I can accept all this random craziness and overly complex plotting. But a priest who is into sexually molesting grown women? C’mon, Tanter, I can only suspend my disbelief so far.<br /><br />Back at the local FBI headquarters, Parker decides to interrogate Mrs. Claus. This results in another moment that had me howling as Mrs. Claus is shown in her cell still in her Christmas outfit. Yes, in a cell wearing a leather choker, studded leather belt, and laced up stiletto heel boots. **sigh** <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiSxNtIJjtE64O03FwwQcxm8GJ21OZib5A2QozjdHo1kvXuaq-HVJOGAXL1jLjm5nKvheAsRcrWySwIOaId9TyWaiOSdBo1fjAST1FOrzbCMYv-MYIIt1M4fy0_HiNBvHeYsTNldg5Yg/s871/nights11.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="528" data-original-width="871" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiSxNtIJjtE64O03FwwQcxm8GJ21OZib5A2QozjdHo1kvXuaq-HVJOGAXL1jLjm5nKvheAsRcrWySwIOaId9TyWaiOSdBo1fjAST1FOrzbCMYv-MYIIt1M4fy0_HiNBvHeYsTNldg5Yg/w640-h388/nights11.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBnJWtX7J4NRZO9721OXN17_oY7m6v8ou0lJNVHUmWTCrOETDGoWKcYKvIq4pVfrHHRSaWnB2KCtC7kXCMNz3d08n2UHao8uSn64TjvzJK-j8i-m7jbmKLkUB2LUvioT1x_FA35dBAz14/s1280/nights4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="616" data-original-width="1280" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBnJWtX7J4NRZO9721OXN17_oY7m6v8ou0lJNVHUmWTCrOETDGoWKcYKvIq4pVfrHHRSaWnB2KCtC7kXCMNz3d08n2UHao8uSn64TjvzJK-j8i-m7jbmKLkUB2LUvioT1x_FA35dBAz14/w400-h193/nights4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>She reveals that “daddy has a new plan” and he’s making a list. Parker begins her investigation and she first visits Sheriff Mitchell (Barry Kennedy). Yes, the sheriff from the first film who couldn’t properly identify a pear. I love this dude. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacm4dCh9VCLtQGu8S4gVN47n6t-YRDqnJhOBQCDVbHYftD-xqWTUWAyFbo8F3j0RAgf6J5hB8ZVlinSASePGn2SkxwmUDCTr9uOAzDHaBTxiX0aKAUygkmq22KetBdKK-ULnNbhGAsko/s1280/nights8.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="665" data-original-width="1280" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacm4dCh9VCLtQGu8S4gVN47n6t-YRDqnJhOBQCDVbHYftD-xqWTUWAyFbo8F3j0RAgf6J5hB8ZVlinSASePGn2SkxwmUDCTr9uOAzDHaBTxiX0aKAUygkmq22KetBdKK-ULnNbhGAsko/w400-h208/nights8.jpg" width="400" /></a>He’s retired now to spend more time drinking, but Parker thinks he might have some insight into Santa’s current spree. She also visits the burned asylum, where a former orderly who now guards the place mentions he used to work with Jim Beaudin there and they used to beat the patients. Because, you know, that is what people reveal when you first meet them. Just like the first film, viewers will have guessed the motivation of the killers long before the lead characters do. Meanwhile, Santa stays busy by visiting Sheriff Mitchell (he poisoned his alcohol five minutes before showing up) and busts Mrs. Claus out of a FBI caravan (more on that in a bit). Oh, hey, remember Jennifer and Courtney? The filmmakers apparently did at this point as they are reintroduced and make a plan to catch Jennifer’s killer Santa father in a trap worthy of his own design. You know, super complicated and relying on random things coming together all at once.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibuvKkJ9y5ew2cCVNc0I82SgbHnNee1CxWiM6gh8Vt5VSo16NASJnU6Gnryzw4tAWgA2i6SqhJ4zoagCLn5qJOfAfEFKZiOFEyV5y5aD9efOoyBi3jtu8czPJwoBp_QlTRYK9LcplZCtw/s1280/nights9.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="981" data-original-width="1280" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibuvKkJ9y5ew2cCVNc0I82SgbHnNee1CxWiM6gh8Vt5VSo16NASJnU6Gnryzw4tAWgA2i6SqhJ4zoagCLn5qJOfAfEFKZiOFEyV5y5aD9efOoyBi3jtu8czPJwoBp_QlTRYK9LcplZCtw/w400-h306/nights9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Like I mentioned in my intro, I was actually looking forward to this one. I was intrigued to see where they took the characters and how the talented production team responded to criticism thrown at the first film. I guess they didn’t read them. You know when you haven’t seen an old friend in a while and when you catch up you realize they haven’t changed at all? That is what it is like returning to the Tanter universe. I’ll be honest - these films drive me crazy. The entire production team busts their ass to make a good looking movie and I’ll admit it looks great with Tanter knowing when to effectively use slo-mo, drone shots and some clever transitions. But all of that is brought down by a screenplay so dumb that you start to question your sanity. Now the first film was overly complex and relied on too many coincidences, but it worked it with its own weird logic. This script, credited to Tanter and Phillips, presents scenarios that barely seem like human actions. For example, early on Parker mentions that our villains have rocketed on to the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list. First, it is hilarious to me these two have been trotting around for a year in the same outfits in the general area and not been spotted. Second, there is a scene that had me dying in regard to this. The FBI is transporting Mrs. Claus to a hospital as she claimed she swallowed some razor blades (don’t ask). On the way Santa has created a roadblock with a stalled car. When he emerges from the vehicle with his signature outfit and burned visage with metal teeth, the FBI agent in the first car radios to Parker, “Dispatch, we’ve got a pedestrian in the road.” WHAT!? You don’t recognize a serial killer Santa responsible for thirty murders on your top ten list? Wait, it gets better. When asked to describe the pedestrian, the FBI agent responds, “Describe?” WHAT!?!? Oh man, I am dying.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbW2bm2ADL4ZAH5vPU0REi18TQ6I_RPod6ODDC0XYgaPnRpbTs6t5EUNVW2OP3fNEYD618_MrEvPdoFPAR-vJuWvXHFWYyUDb0x69JeqCn1e2j5DS2DWvvq9U3BJnRhZL3o-ifZHedZmg/s1280/nights5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="1280" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbW2bm2ADL4ZAH5vPU0REi18TQ6I_RPod6ODDC0XYgaPnRpbTs6t5EUNVW2OP3fNEYD618_MrEvPdoFPAR-vJuWvXHFWYyUDb0x69JeqCn1e2j5DS2DWvvq9U3BJnRhZL3o-ifZHedZmg/w400-h184/nights5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The whole film is filled with scenarios nuttier than a fruitcake. Another example: toward the end our evil duo end up attacking the executive board at Biocorp Security (spoiler: Their list of naughty and nice victims consists of people who worked at the asylum). No joke, the bloody killer Santa wielding an axe shows up at the meeting and throws the severed penis of a victim on the table. The CEO gags and then says, "This is a private meeting” and “I’m going to have to ask you to leave” before calling for security. This is not a comedy and is supposed to be serious. How do scenarios like this happen? Did the producers ask to read the script and Tanter and Phillips are like, “Nah, nah. We got this.” To make matters even more confusing, they recast the heroic female leads and don’t make any overt connection that this is a follow up by giving it an even more awkward title. I actually had a friend who had no idea this was a sequel, which probably left him even more confused. You have to really know the Tanter-verse to keep it all straight, which is great for me as I now know the third film is coming soon. In keeping with the throat-choking title tradition, it is currently titled (takes deep breath) ONE CHRISTMAS NIGHT IN A TOY STORE. I look forward to experiencing its beautiful sheen and boundless stupidity.</div>Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-16790782993362373852020-12-25T08:00:00.007-08:002022-12-25T13:01:26.126-08:00December to Dismember: DEATHCEMBER (2019)<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGSCqyPj8OzoAyYz53QBX4v3nneZ1I0wsQHOzroxQ7O5tcFQy-WVQYpPOUbyQupvJeoGGAA2R9JcVvGzU5pr-AZfpCyhpy-T4_OC9uqlIMyLFkezPsesUze2tUvjPuA1v2q_SNHx6Frk/s748/deathcember_vid.png" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="748" data-original-width="530" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGSCqyPj8OzoAyYz53QBX4v3nneZ1I0wsQHOzroxQ7O5tcFQy-WVQYpPOUbyQupvJeoGGAA2R9JcVvGzU5pr-AZfpCyhpy-T4_OC9uqlIMyLFkezPsesUze2tUvjPuA1v2q_SNHx6Frk/w227-h320/deathcember_vid.png" width="227" /></a> Love advent calendars? Love horror anthologies? Have absolutely no ability to pay attention past the two minute mark without being distracted by something shiny? Well, have I got the movie for you! At some point in the past couple of decades, after folks seemed to give up on found-footage movies, for some reason the Uber-ADD Horror Anthology became a thing. Now, not only was a three story anthology with a wrap-around laboriously a patience-straining endurance test, but severely limited the amount of stories you could stuff in. Why not have people make, or rather salvage, very short films and cram them all together with minimal to non-existent framing devices? "Genius!" said the public, who promptly ran off to watch an Asylum movie. And the modern horror anthology was born.</p><p></p><p>Taking their cue from the ABCS OF DEATH (2012), which the producers thank in the credits, DEATHCEMBER gives us a whopping 26 short films, two of which are used to break up the 20 minute credit sequence. If you do the math, that give us about 5 minutes per short, with some being even shorter to allow others to be a little longer. That is not much time to pack a story, dialogue and characters into a movie, but who needs all that crap anyway, get on with it!</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwU_2a-q2U6m315ZsRwfY4yDFIFKtMuMBq_gf8bD6_P1o7RAJHQgpe5s-wWHk-xqYIGN2PtUIEzzrE8e67wszB23x76FIKd1dAS6niQySLGeVmGPeZI2_S6l5_3JqeJIaPjmywEtuB8-o//" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="166" data-original-width="304" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwU_2a-q2U6m315ZsRwfY4yDFIFKtMuMBq_gf8bD6_P1o7RAJHQgpe5s-wWHk-xqYIGN2PtUIEzzrE8e67wszB23x76FIKd1dAS6niQySLGeVmGPeZI2_S6l5_3JqeJIaPjmywEtuB8-o//" width="320" /></a></div>Because we do not have time to waste on a wrap-around segment, after the opening credits that blatantly rip-off Danny Elfman's TALES FROM THE CRYPT (1989) theme, instead we get a PS3-level CGI rendering of a room in a mansion that has a lot of random stuff laying around. 24 pieces of random stuff, to be precise. A pair of shoes, a kitchen knife, a gas mask, a stuffed deer head, etc, all linked to a story. The camera zooms in on the item and then a number pops up and an advent door opens to zoom in on the opening of the story. So frantically ADD is this that I'm surprised anyone had the patience to sit through the advent door openings and they weren't scrapped all together.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdC7F51x3xELiTXA5aNATfRDUfRQwzDlHesthQsWTWwP2-jNVd1coWbRs7OVhICBnr5kzi8Hbf7zQFGkWKdu2TCAYYKBLDJd08k8KEEQNgGeGXgMPIuh0PlJrLcOfNSHwXw8LEqzCbXuY/s1469/deathcember_01.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="1469" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdC7F51x3xELiTXA5aNATfRDUfRQwzDlHesthQsWTWwP2-jNVd1coWbRs7OVhICBnr5kzi8Hbf7zQFGkWKdu2TCAYYKBLDJd08k8KEEQNgGeGXgMPIuh0PlJrLcOfNSHwXw8LEqzCbXuY/w400-h166/deathcember_01.png" width="400" /></a></div>Starting out with a German short, titled A DOOR TOO FAR, about a teenaged boy (Fynn Kempf) who is obsessed with tearing open advent calendars and stuffing his face with chocolate. After demolishing the one at home, he heads to a bodega (this is Germany, I guess you can buy those at any corner market) and starts tearing through the ones on the shelves. An older man (Heinz Harth) admonishes him and he hurls an insult and storms out. As he leaves, he is cursed by the old man to become an advent chocolate which is eaten by a little girl (as evidenced by his screams in a voice-over). The end. Oh man, they have to get better right? I can sense Rod Serling rolling over in his grave. What am I saying? Writer-director Dominic Saxl is more likely borrowing inspiration from a NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET sequel.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlcZ5ejFnHyQxv1f9HpNFYFyW_EE4NijgZatdt0lKDYPPenfctoOjJtGhksHh3_gKbUonVKaA1WTNXMhRWb3EWPOUViG-gwQch75PPaahgl7E4XFPTmsrOTemWOcPzM6_IoRLqoHBIeI/s1469/deathcember_02.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="823" data-original-width="1469" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlcZ5ejFnHyQxv1f9HpNFYFyW_EE4NijgZatdt0lKDYPPenfctoOjJtGhksHh3_gKbUonVKaA1WTNXMhRWb3EWPOUViG-gwQch75PPaahgl7E4XFPTmsrOTemWOcPzM6_IoRLqoHBIeI/w400-h224/deathcember_02.png" width="400" /></a></div>We also get ALL SALES FATAL with Tiffany Shepis as an enraged "Karen" trying to return something to a snotty store clerk (Ryan Fisher) even though she doesn't have a receipt. This devolves into a profane, bloody fight that (spoiler!) ends with both bleeding out on the floor and Shepis' character finding the receipt (end spoiler). I'm not sure why cheap horror movies always portray people who work retail as being catty and obnoxious. It's like the filmmakers feel like they are superior to not only the entitled customers, but also the lowly retail worker. I've worked with the public and most retail and restaurant workers have to smile through so much shit from rude customers and horrible bosses that it would make your average pussweeb hipster videomaker curl up in a fetal position after 10 minutes. Err, but I digress...<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmexlvLX5Xj_c6A1N0D-oPj33E_T3NpQy8-1uuG4jUDjbMippAdxeewOhO8HCXn428pvzbOgBeCH9QlgtLu1ZPngzveWRtQeL-2ie9JryLIGl4fj_Fn9zKvNP6iOc_ohSXGiySGiTd7U/s1460/deathcember_13.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1460" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmexlvLX5Xj_c6A1N0D-oPj33E_T3NpQy8-1uuG4jUDjbMippAdxeewOhO8HCXn428pvzbOgBeCH9QlgtLu1ZPngzveWRtQeL-2ie9JryLIGl4fj_Fn9zKvNP6iOc_ohSXGiySGiTd7U/w400-h344/deathcember_13.png" width="400" /></a></div><div>At least these first stories are somewhat Christmas related, as we delve deeper into the sack of film-school projects, we get items that are vaguely seasonal or just not even close except for a line of dialogue indicating the holiday in question. X-MAS ON FIRE has a non-chronologically told, RESERVOIR DOGS inspired (CITY ON FIRE inspired), story of a jewelry store heist gone violently wrong. The Christmas connection here is that the criminals are all wearing Santa suits "to blend in" (an intentional joke in the short). This vague connection is actually closer to a Christmas story than many of the others. JOY TO THE GIRLS tells of three beautiful young girls (Haydée Lysander, Claudia Bouza, Laura Ballester) who send a Christmas party invitation at a hotel room to a young man (Jose Corpas). Upon arriving, they drug him, tie him up, stab him in the throat and drink his blood. There aren't even any Christmas decorations in sight.</div></span></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Bp0vN2yawx7i4_lhvu4SdUjdnC-DjehSGfDkrInDddGE8TjcbWNy9HiZzgw5wK0dmVCOd3iQy1ipOyXl_bt3TUHpvbyhV-Qg7RRwozBzzBxM2cASOgUH8UCvICks4vxzDRVs6DBNYjg/s1469/deathcember_03.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="1469" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Bp0vN2yawx7i4_lhvu4SdUjdnC-DjehSGfDkrInDddGE8TjcbWNy9HiZzgw5wK0dmVCOd3iQy1ipOyXl_bt3TUHpvbyhV-Qg7RRwozBzzBxM2cASOgUH8UCvICks4vxzDRVs6DBNYjg/w400-h166/deathcember_03.png" width="400" /></a></div>In the completely opaque, but rather enjoyable, AURORA segment, we are given strange science fiction outing about a lone woman (Nabi Tang) on a distant planet in the year 2389, where her job is to oversee some large, mechanical vents that hang over the ocean. Some sort of contamination occurs and eventually kills her. Oh yeah, this happens on December 25th. If this description sounds vague, it's because the movie is. Serbian director Lazar Bodroža, creates a weird little slice of Philip K. Dick inspired science fiction that I actually enjoyed, but that is more of a mood-piece than anything else and really doesn't even qualify as Christmas horror in any way.<p></p><p>Also missing the Christmas boat is Lucky McKee's THEY ONCE HAD HORSES, which is a black and white western in which two cowboys (Sean Bridgers, Justin Stone) sit around a campfire after being attacked by something that was definitely not a bear. Both are wounded and waiting for the thing to find them and kill them. Yep, that's it. To be fair, one of the cowboy's gives a harmonica to the other and says "Merry Christmas". So there is your Christmas connection.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCYEtVla7TmXbMYcmy9u-wAImuoQ36HlcEXgeZYELJCFztH3cHCKfAfOCkr-vud4iVgwPKlzyo5vwR4yFVMxas_cYtmVAZtvGh4UfUTYHsXo936-qEB3p_i8vV5gzQsGi5X5CZKtXVgg/s1398/deathcember_16.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1398" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCYEtVla7TmXbMYcmy9u-wAImuoQ36HlcEXgeZYELJCFztH3cHCKfAfOCkr-vud4iVgwPKlzyo5vwR4yFVMxas_cYtmVAZtvGh4UfUTYHsXo936-qEB3p_i8vV5gzQsGi5X5CZKtXVgg/w400-h344/deathcember_16.png" width="400" /></a></div>Leave it to the Germans to say "fuckit, let's disco!" Andreas Marschall's PIG is about a group of women who have been traumatized by men and form a group that abuse each other in training to go out and torture and kill the men who have betrayed them. They find one (Detlef Bothe) in a disco and after putting a pig mask over his head, drugging and restraining him, stab him in the crotch with a hair pin. Finally when when his ex (Julita Witt) makes a big entrance to finish the job with a sharpened tape measure (?!), she realizes (spoiler) that they got the wrong man. They kill him anyway. The end. Hooray Christmas horror! Or not.<p></p><p>That is not to say that everything is wide of the mark. With a 26 super-shorts, something is going to have to score some points.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAvA9CcwF-01csajjDZjsUH5-SE0sOxv-P-grsBBojv0sKjI2tLxeksQVni-3NXmhp8DAVSJOV3SlDhboFDXisiGusJ0Y82HnAz1guFoPMrS0U6zQx_rmrAb-79iSHpgPMlHK2FX-B_Y/s1658/deathcember_17.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1658" data-original-width="1455" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAvA9CcwF-01csajjDZjsUH5-SE0sOxv-P-grsBBojv0sKjI2tLxeksQVni-3NXmhp8DAVSJOV3SlDhboFDXisiGusJ0Y82HnAz1guFoPMrS0U6zQx_rmrAb-79iSHpgPMlHK2FX-B_Y/w351-h400/deathcember_17.png" width="351" /></a></div>One of my two favorites in this exhausting milieu is Juergen Kling's claymation short titled CRAPPY CHRISTMAS: OPERATION CHRISTMAS CHILD. A Gumby-esque kid, who lives alone, finds a Christmas present in the snow outside of his home. Unfortunately for him, this is merely a lure to bring him out of his home so that the evil monk from the church over the hill, can snatch him up and throw him in a dungeon cell with the skeleton of another child. Sound nasty? Just wait. After being brought out of his cell, he finds that his purpose is to be repeatedly sodomized by a viagra-popping bishop and a sadistic priest while staring at Christian idolatry. (Spoilers ahead) Fortunately he is visited by Krampus, who leaves him a grab bag of stuff to help him escape (some not so useful, like walnuts), which he does in a spectacularly bloody way. Not only is this filled with bright and colorful Christmas cheer that quickly becomes extremely subversive, but the quality of the production is top-notch. Granted it's not old-school Aardman (they would have stop-motion animated a hundred individual snowflakes falling to the ground and melting), but aside from that unfair comparison, this is real, traditional, painstaking work, the likes of which, I honestly never thought we'd see in these modern times of CGI stop-motion.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgoZkapdqp8P6HDb6W1u4WbbzhAA-xINGcZiESuhza0Vg2JDsDUtNP1w7ezv6Uy7VD4hC080kDNN1Wxbp9-Z2R03iPdGeRmZR39C2HXhkwiQuLAc3WEp67jqV3a3junkL5qyIeZgjFvs/s1406/deathcember_20.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1205" data-original-width="1406" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMgoZkapdqp8P6HDb6W1u4WbbzhAA-xINGcZiESuhza0Vg2JDsDUtNP1w7ezv6Uy7VD4hC080kDNN1Wxbp9-Z2R03iPdGeRmZR39C2HXhkwiQuLAc3WEp67jqV3a3junkL5qyIeZgjFvs/w400-h343/deathcember_20.png" width="400" /></a></div>My other favorite is the FALLOUT-esque CRACKER, from John Cook Lynch. Set on the moon colony Lunar Falls in what appears to be the 1950s, a very nervous and unhappy family sit around the Christmas dinner table. The father has a box of Christmas crackers (British pull-apart party favors that contain a joke) which he is trying to convince his 20-something daughters will be fun. The intent is fun, but it is played out with edgy suspense and high-drama while the news report plays on the TV in the background. (Major spoiler) One after another they pull the crackers and read the jokes until they get to mother, who pulls the cracker and her head explodes like a ripe melon. The newscaster announces that since the colony has been cut off from earth for so long, they have had to mandate an annual culling of the population, as done with the official Lunar Falls Christmas crackers. (End Spoilers) From the acting and music, to the simple, yet effective set and special effects, this short is slick, well written, and is tonally pitch perfect. It also has digital cinematography that emulates the three-strip technicolor process of the '50s to tie it all together. I hope, as soon as we return to normal times, this will lead Lynch to a feature project.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6L5KZ34Wdj1OfcCB_KUSF0sg64qeIAJc_NIqZ2gessEqkpjEoOaPuEBUDj_HSeryT36jl0jKVywAnDHNXfOYc2OfWyfrOq09RLOJXJFxwukMQUjzQBM1qK1cMvrGb2Jbzfl6m7sYZnj0/s1465/deathcember_11.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="790" data-original-width="1465" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6L5KZ34Wdj1OfcCB_KUSF0sg64qeIAJc_NIqZ2gessEqkpjEoOaPuEBUDj_HSeryT36jl0jKVywAnDHNXfOYc2OfWyfrOq09RLOJXJFxwukMQUjzQBM1qK1cMvrGb2Jbzfl6m7sYZnj0/w400-h216/deathcember_11.png" width="400" /></a></div>I should probably mention that among the indy entries there are some high profile names. Ruggero Deodato, who has been primarily been working in Italian TV over the past 30 years (including <a href="https://vidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/02/this-bud-for-you-we-are-angels-1997.html" target="_blank">WE ARE ANGELS [1997]</a>), shows up with a short that is well directed, but looks rather bland and color leeched. The story of a Christmas prank gone seriously wrong shows a little of his streak of almost Spanish-esque cruelty, but is a little disappointing coming from one of the old masters of Italian exploitation cinema.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbENcz4b4_soODq9Hsm-zApcGtVswQSWPqB2XcEfrKU0uzP6W2dDt1TVZAzO2jy-dkgZYwwmrZ9PnyvYULCHYepHuXbquCqRpNGyCbkBT27QEaLibCgEZN6ohBB0lzFdwlH4OcQZXOoq4/s1120/deathcember_10b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1012" data-original-width="1120" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbENcz4b4_soODq9Hsm-zApcGtVswQSWPqB2XcEfrKU0uzP6W2dDt1TVZAzO2jy-dkgZYwwmrZ9PnyvYULCHYepHuXbquCqRpNGyCbkBT27QEaLibCgEZN6ohBB0lzFdwlH4OcQZXOoq4/w320-h289/deathcember_10b.png" width="320" /></a></div>Beloved genre favorite Barbara Crampton shows up in another not-really-Christmas story (it's just in the title, THE CHRISTMAS MIRACLE) about a woman (Clarke Wolfe) who has lost her baby. Set in a fairytale period setting, a woman in black (Crampton) asks if she would do <i>anything </i>to have her baby brought back from the dead. (Spoiler) The woman digs up the baby's coffin and cries with joy to find her baby alive. The woman in black takes the baby and we see the mother is dead. (/Spoiler) It's nicely shot and played, and I guess it's a nice diversion from some of the less atmospheric entries, but if you are in it because you are excited to see Crampton, it's like getting a chocolate Santa only to find out that it's hollow on the inside. It's kind of tasty, but it leaves you wanting more.<p></p><p>This is kind of an apt metaphor for the entire movie. Stuff moves by so fast that even if it is good, it's easy to forget that it even existed when you get 15 deep, much less 26 deep. There is fun to be had here, but it's such an big sack of random ADD stuff that unless you are really into super-shallow, disposable cinema, it's a bit unsatisfying.</p></div>Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-4060596981933555712020-12-22T07:33:00.008-08:002022-12-25T13:04:42.007-08:00December to Dismember: LETTERS TO SATAN CLAUS (2020)<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKZAilQl1Vy-85oLkoR2gviXMj_eN1HhCpzVzP_gE2XjN2AEwTOh32jtEtRxsO6xc2PnjjG84FMswXQfy21_iBm275hZqT6UOiwY5c5Y-OGdsA6FjH_6WeY5BZqehc_Nww1-fXzACN8c/s928/letters1.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="928" data-original-width="767" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKZAilQl1Vy-85oLkoR2gviXMj_eN1HhCpzVzP_gE2XjN2AEwTOh32jtEtRxsO6xc2PnjjG84FMswXQfy21_iBm275hZqT6UOiwY5c5Y-OGdsA6FjH_6WeY5BZqehc_Nww1-fXzACN8c/w330-h400/letters1.jpg" width="330" /></a></p><p><i>[by William S. Wilson]</i></p>The television Christmas movie industry is blowing up bigger than Santa Claus after he eats all the cookies left for him. The hands down champ is the Christmas movie factory that is the Hallmark Channel. In the year 2000, Hallmark debuted its first holiday original with THE CHRISTMAS SECRET (2000) starring Richard Thomas and Beau Bridges. Who knew that film was a pioneer? In the year 2020, Hallmark is debuting...I kid you not...forty brand new original Christmas movies. FORTY! It created a schedule so overloaded that they started airing them in late October. OCTOBER! Yes, they’ve turned into the television equivalent of your local pharmacy chain putting the Xmas stuff out early. With such a plethora of products, it is surprising that we haven’t yet seen a spoof of these formulaic “grumpy person discovers love via Christmas” scenarios. It is also surprising no one has not done a horror version of them yet. Well, both bases have now been covered with the SyFy channel original LETTERS TO SATAN CLAUS (2020) and, in the most surprising news of all, it is entertaining as hell.<p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvFY-4kg6MzuEHdR4Bciy_XgBcj3GAK7IUgpe2VW7KSqXee7g479REvxtCU2I73S4kWY0Nc4uQK-tCmNTPC-fQeS1uPbpFy8rMU3CJlfqiDxTdBbpdJGZnGJ4n-WxiRuNM_T2B2OXqQig/s1280/letters2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvFY-4kg6MzuEHdR4Bciy_XgBcj3GAK7IUgpe2VW7KSqXee7g479REvxtCU2I73S4kWY0Nc4uQK-tCmNTPC-fQeS1uPbpFy8rMU3CJlfqiDxTdBbpdJGZnGJ4n-WxiRuNM_T2B2OXqQig/w400-h225/letters2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The film opens in the Christmas-loving town of Ornaments as the Winters family is at a “Letters to Santa Claus” event. Young Holly demands her parents buy her Barbie...er, Darby Dream Car for Christmas, but they can’t because dad lost his job at the tree factory and mom can’t do ice sculpture due to a broken arm. HA! Bratty Holly heads off in a huff and writes Santa the following letter: “Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is for my parents to go away. Can you make that happen? Love, Holly” Glad she added that love part in there to show she is the warm type when asking for her parents to disappear. Unfortunately, this simple act created something terrifying for her family. Cut to 22 years later and the grown up Holly Winters is a changed woman because she now goes by Holly Frost (Karen Knox) and is an investigative reporter for a TV station. With visions of lead anchor dancing in her head, Holly accepts a Christmas assignment from her demanding boss. The bad news? It involves returning to her hometown of Ornaments to cover the 75th anniversary of their Festival of Christmas Wonder.<br /><br />With her hunky cameraman Sam (Franco Lo Presti) in tow, Holly makes the trek back home. In Hallmark tradition, she runs into in quick succession: her old gay bestie, the lone black family, her old rival who is now mayor (named Danica, which is hilarious if you know Hallmark), and her old flame Chris Pringle (Joseph Cannata). Per Hallmark Christmas Resolution 420, Holly finds out Chris is recently single after the death of his wife. This fact is relayed in the following hilarious dialogue:<p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Danica: <i>"Chris has gone through a lot recently. He just lost his wife."</i><br />Holly: <i>"Hopefully not to...cancer."</i><br />Danica: <i>"Hot air balloon."</i><br />Holly: <i>"Like it caught on fire?"</i><br />Danica (incredulous): <i>"No, one fell on her."</i></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKwX4nX6fYYVfI2Ny2EpWOrMht5SCWhOW6e0DGmRnmO_M9DanSSn6H1fxVYx_pF63fCQO0KysjlLFDI-WCE0L0T4qZTzSOC6qzz9bw061EZ8w0JSafXq6Tvpst0XCZElTGd-zqmCpd70/s1280/letters3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="1280" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFKwX4nX6fYYVfI2Ny2EpWOrMht5SCWhOW6e0DGmRnmO_M9DanSSn6H1fxVYx_pF63fCQO0KysjlLFDI-WCE0L0T4qZTzSOC6qzz9bw061EZ8w0JSafXq6Tvpst0XCZElTGd-zqmCpd70/w400-h224/letters3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Unable to secure a hotel room in town, Holly resorts to the worst case scenario and opts to stay with her sister Cookie (Perrie Voss). This is tough for Holly outside of the normal holiday family strains because of the tragedy in this house all those years ago. As the audience soon finds out, when Holly wrote that letter to Santa, she accidentally misspelled his name and addressed it to Satan. Always a fan of written correspondence, Satan made Holly’s wish come true and delivered presents that Christmas morning containing the severed body parts of her parents. Yikes! And you thought getting underwear was the ultimate Xmas morning betrayal. Naturally, such a traumatic experience has shaped Holly into the sarcastic, drunk Christmas-hating ice queen she is. Imbued with more than Christmas spirits, Holly decides at the “Letters to Santa” event to write Satan a new letter telling him to screw off. Bad move as Satan gets it and decides to return to Ornaments to get his revenge.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB5HZzL4-LWjgehbau8g5OQa7sWLk40sxNat2E3AaJgUuNahC2S-wSsJ3OunQkEwjr8Dp7RPHMRvb-JStLz6lyMChbeiMZPrdNs_24aQD7F8d8KGLHPyesT11vBk3bJ7-baPyqVWVzKtw/s1280/letters9.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB5HZzL4-LWjgehbau8g5OQa7sWLk40sxNat2E3AaJgUuNahC2S-wSsJ3OunQkEwjr8Dp7RPHMRvb-JStLz6lyMChbeiMZPrdNs_24aQD7F8d8KGLHPyesT11vBk3bJ7-baPyqVWVzKtw/w640-h360/letters9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YDY7A0FZndxGYEqY_p3qgyEaapuSPA5T8qwRit1fTUP2ctmzqQQjKGJ9DWIh_avRmnnXt2ucQS-dATnIJn33rk3DgqKdk06Shvbic9EejrBcYnzvB09mnwwkUY5pUEYTfjWFV-YQB3M/s1280/letters7.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="723" data-original-width="1280" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YDY7A0FZndxGYEqY_p3qgyEaapuSPA5T8qwRit1fTUP2ctmzqQQjKGJ9DWIh_avRmnnXt2ucQS-dATnIJn33rk3DgqKdk06Shvbic9EejrBcYnzvB09mnwwkUY5pUEYTfjWFV-YQB3M/w400-h226/letters7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Remember on Christmas morning when you got that unexpected present and were like, “Whoa! I didn’t know that I wanted this but it is very cool.” That is how I felt watching this. I’ve had an odd relationship with SyFy <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhh33QREYJChkFra3JjPrR2H7MjgxGICTLHqc0v3YT0hKIZw9bOESlZX0S8I4rAa26r8JfwCzS3LdDrxFje5HWJWvydSq_c90Lve1ngBzDpYRRbIyjuXw7L-rzgnrZeblf67-YNlc441Y/s1280/letters10.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1280" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhh33QREYJChkFra3JjPrR2H7MjgxGICTLHqc0v3YT0hKIZw9bOESlZX0S8I4rAa26r8JfwCzS3LdDrxFje5HWJWvydSq_c90Lve1ngBzDpYRRbIyjuXw7L-rzgnrZeblf67-YNlc441Y/w400-h261/letters10.jpg" width="400" /></a>Originals...an abusive one. I’ve never seen a SHARKNADO flick and it seems like 90% of the ones I’ve seen follow that “haha, we dumb” cookie cutter pattern. In the same breath, I’ve seen <a href="http://www.videojunkie.org/2019/12/december-to-dismember-santa-jaws-2018.html"><span style="color: red;">SANTA JAWS (2018)</span></a>. So I had some trepidation going into this one. However, the real key here to enjoying this movie has less to do with SyFy and more to with the Hallmark Channel. If you have seen any of their Christmas films (confession: I’ve seen about a dozen), you will probably delight at how Michael Zara’s script pokes fun at all of the cliches. From the “busy city girl returns to small town” scenario to the “she finds love in her cold heart” ending, it hits every mark. Even the character names are in jokes as we have the aforementioned Danica, Aunt Becky, Candace, and Cameron. The filmmakers paid super close attention to the template, resulting in some genuine laughs. For example, there was one bit at the end involving the gay friend and his prospective partner that had me dying at just how Hallmark-y it was. There are even some non-Hallmark moments that made me laugh, like a running joke about “teenage vaping hooligans” and the bit where Holly declares her love for Christmas and says, “I believe in snowmen, snowwomen, snowTHEYS!” My personal favorite was toward the end where the Sheriff arrests Holly on the suspicion of her being the killer. Right after she says she wants a lawyer, Chris enters the scene triumphantly and says, “You’ve got one! (pauses for dramatic music) Passed the bar last fall.” It feels like a moment right out a AIRPLANE or NAKED GUN film.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWLdr_T24t4TayrWNcun4jqhrXas_BtzXd7wkeWpHLsgBgDfMTzmivKC1PnHM-Zg59Kc63BQmx5JjfEcNWH5KxYg47r6qzMThnHc6sdeGrdxRQd9VUeNstirJTJYISBEq3mukv-DqJT4/s1280/letters11.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="817" data-original-width="1280" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigWLdr_T24t4TayrWNcun4jqhrXas_BtzXd7wkeWpHLsgBgDfMTzmivKC1PnHM-Zg59Kc63BQmx5JjfEcNWH5KxYg47r6qzMThnHc6sdeGrdxRQd9VUeNstirJTJYISBEq3mukv-DqJT4/w640-h408/letters11.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1ORIGKb6EgRlF7IC5Ko7RQR6Qk6pgxyg0M6eonjvDp3pBpfUSZWSCYbMOmGg_89odeuoGkPI7YUGlTmk5SIGy2Du2z1WUv8Qn3OJ9yAgI5gMloWWvhLKraFXuDk6GoJ5UhoU9UsWizY/s1280/letters4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji1ORIGKb6EgRlF7IC5Ko7RQR6Qk6pgxyg0M6eonjvDp3pBpfUSZWSCYbMOmGg_89odeuoGkPI7YUGlTmk5SIGy2Du2z1WUv8Qn3OJ9yAgI5gMloWWvhLKraFXuDk6GoJ5UhoU9UsWizY/w400-h225/letters4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Intrinsic to making this work is a cast that is totally game. Everyone is on the same wavelength for what they are doing. The standout is the lead Karen <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh70EhV5fvHAXQcJkzP7zzaVtugaAoDu_xJ1p0QB8AWKiZPs_dYd9R84Wvvi-MuJRPcSVM3eUTvVLgRy-9toVoD8Vld6JBPyiN0OUxtmOUeC2-hqxBfK5Yb1Kq6QXm12DY6gRdyHkZ6KO4/s1280/letters12.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh70EhV5fvHAXQcJkzP7zzaVtugaAoDu_xJ1p0QB8AWKiZPs_dYd9R84Wvvi-MuJRPcSVM3eUTvVLgRy-9toVoD8Vld6JBPyiN0OUxtmOUeC2-hqxBfK5Yb1Kq6QXm12DY6gRdyHkZ6KO4/w400-h225/letters12.jpg" width="400" /></a>Knox as the cynical Holly Winters/Frost. Not only does she have great delivery of her lines, but she is gifted with her comedic mannerisms and facial expressions. She totally Knox it out of the park. Ah, boo yourself! There is actually a scene about 20 minutes into the film where she writes her second letter to Satan and licks the envelope in the most awkward way while staring at the random guy next to her. It is a total throwaway gag, but actually sold me on the film’s comedic tone. Yes, when it comes to comedy I’m all about pushing the envelope licking skills. Also responsible for the film’s success is director Emma Jean Sutherland. She worked as a First AD on several Christmas TV movies and you can clearly see she paid attention. The mise-en-scene is positively overflowing with Christmas stuff as every frame bursts with decorations and lights and the music is pitch perfect. If I had any gripe, it might be that the production didn’t really have the necessary funds to do the big showdown it deserved. Instead, Satan - which is a very cool design by The Butcher Shop FX Studio - just kinda shows up on stage and gets blow’d up by CGI effects. A minor quibble that didn’t keep me from enjoying the film. If you have a Hallmark-loving heart but dig the occasional severed limb, LETTERS TO SATAN CLAUS might just be the perfect gift to find under your tree this year. Spiked eggnog is optional. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimk2-DuxGGWiVa0jRsbx4X1rge4OFwnetSil12FiOsI8y8JVdkfWxuzApGo98g77EPRDp66BJIwQAqavDSZ7N8mm_PcSpmjpwZGIYb94nXgWJ1HLNjJ_bWazIREJwe3EMQlsypvcFte10/s1280/letters6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="822" data-original-width="1280" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimk2-DuxGGWiVa0jRsbx4X1rge4OFwnetSil12FiOsI8y8JVdkfWxuzApGo98g77EPRDp66BJIwQAqavDSZ7N8mm_PcSpmjpwZGIYb94nXgWJ1HLNjJ_bWazIREJwe3EMQlsypvcFte10/w640-h412/letters6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div></div>Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-2489611573341001252020-12-18T08:00:00.005-08:002022-12-25T13:00:57.450-08:00December to Dismember: UNHOLY NIGHT (2019)<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRaxwZFfMzrAJzhQyw_i4sZ037hkR-1If4bO7kpySDLDXRMT-6GzQamWqA1cXdoUFydkhz0faKmHywqUE9Zxv3OuaJXeBwtvMLeHZlSuUzvUv3Ca9zmzQqdZymvjNS69M2wDGVEbpI28/s818/unholynight_us.png" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="818" data-original-width="540" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRaxwZFfMzrAJzhQyw_i4sZ037hkR-1If4bO7kpySDLDXRMT-6GzQamWqA1cXdoUFydkhz0faKmHywqUE9Zxv3OuaJXeBwtvMLeHZlSuUzvUv3Ca9zmzQqdZymvjNS69M2wDGVEbpI28/w264-h400/unholynight_us.png" width="264" /></a> I must have been really nice this year. Kind of hard not to be when you are locked in an apartment while a virulent plague and a virulent orange clown wreak havoc outside of your door for the entire fucking year. I guess you could be a dick on the internet, but nothing says that you are a utterly worthless moron than verbally assaulting people on social media. Nope this year, amazingly enough, after sticking my arm in a virtual grab bag of cinematic bear-traps for a third time, I managed to fish out a low-budget, shot on digital, Christmas horror anthology that (gasp) actually makes the effort! And seriously, if you have read up on our Christmas suffering, there is really only one thing we ask Santa for every year: Effort. Ok, maybe not with the poster, but you can't have everything.</p><p></p><p>Set in a pre-modern era, a middle-class family of a father, mother and two young girls, sits around the unfancy Christmas table, discussing how many cookies they can appropriate from Santa's plate. After answering the door, one of the girls can be heard asking someone if they are an elf, then returning only to snatch a chef's knife off the kitchen counter and stab the sweet baby bejeezus out of dad. To be fair, he was trying to hog all the cookies.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZql6DF1TJdMQEQYBgbfjZ6CqIp9DStHabTjITWKwP2nGGUhB0GoLwPMvLI0AMNx_u5nvnSrzAia2Yo-Mv1QKyXRrlsczFRqyWF7Un3u-fvlcCSBQf7p_E8pbPIwJd76HgDudL8ciNq8/s1598/unholynight_02.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1598" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZql6DF1TJdMQEQYBgbfjZ6CqIp9DStHabTjITWKwP2nGGUhB0GoLwPMvLI0AMNx_u5nvnSrzAia2Yo-Mv1QKyXRrlsczFRqyWF7Un3u-fvlcCSBQf7p_E8pbPIwJd76HgDudL8ciNq8/w400-h224/unholynight_02.png" width="400" /></a></div>After the opening credits, we meet Lilly (Jennifer Allanson), a nurse in an older, somewhat vacant hospital on Christmas eve. Not only is it extremely slow, but obnoxious nurse Amanda (Emily Shanley) has decided to boss the few people on staff around, pushing Lilly to do menial tasks. Mainly getting the cranky Mr. Iblis (Jim McDonald) into a wheelchair and down to radiology. Lilly is the slowest wheelchair pusher in the history of nursing, but this gives Iblis a chance to show her his Christmas scrapbook which is made up of horrifying Christmas stories. Naturally Lilly thinks this is pretty great (it would be a short movie if she didn't) and Iblis tells a tale of Christmas horror...<p></p><p>[I should point out that if you plan on watching this movie, you really should wait to read the rest of this review. I'll exclude most of the spoilers, but this movie actually tries to keep you guessing through the stories and even minor spoilers should be avoided]</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6P14lzxxulk38vwqOTAue-Mni6DiQcxJ7VJgZ6tQ5qpRy4YScIHE29g5pDVYL67D0MsgerL4FbSB1yDRDqmPc9Yo2FT0arH8TWVQvtzjYne0YZgCmGu38yaIPP-gf88nRQeGuVhSR7Mw/s1816/unholynight_08.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1816" data-original-width="1585" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6P14lzxxulk38vwqOTAue-Mni6DiQcxJ7VJgZ6tQ5qpRy4YScIHE29g5pDVYL67D0MsgerL4FbSB1yDRDqmPc9Yo2FT0arH8TWVQvtzjYne0YZgCmGu38yaIPP-gf88nRQeGuVhSR7Mw/w349-h400/unholynight_08.png" width="349" /></a></div>Young couple John (Marc Daniels) and Iris (Aileigh Karson) are going to do the family Christmas dinner and meet Iris' parents for the first time (John is, Iris has already met them). Worried about making a good impression, John thinks that Iris' idea to munch down on some shrooms before heading out, might be flawed. At this point you may be thinking that this strains the bonds of credibility, as it is just a downright stupid idea. But, like all incredibly stupid ideas, you know someone has tried it. There's a reason that the labels on bottles of bleach tell you not to drink it (regardless of what some street-corner lunatic in the White House says). Also, this is a horror-comedy, so they are going to get a pass on this plot point. While on the way to see the folks, they are pulled over by cop who happens to be Iris' ex, who pretends to be serious, before acting cheery and when Iris isn't looking, makes some passive-aggressive threats. Or is John just tripping? Once at the house things continue to get weirder with Iris' dad telling horror stories about 'Nam, only to turn on a dime and say that he was just joking and Aunt Marge telling John that she's hungry enough to eat a whole baby. "Just kidding," she says, "the bones would get stuck in my teeth." Meanwhile Iris' mom offers up "finger food" and before long John starts wondering if he is on the menu... or is he still tripping? <p></p><p>Back at the hospital, Lilly has been tasked with taking out the trash and along the way spots the silhouette of what appears to be a tall elf in a dark hallway. She looks again and it is gone. After abandoning the trash in a janitor's closet, Lilly returns to Mr. Iblis for the tale of Drunk Dead Debbie...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14on-9lYap-P_APggMipVDFraZXEp9l-q8iP56Z8yM0x_VOHzOXf1wJyeH5dcEB7pRUdawRX2vlaPcefD_dEX6yx4SDtFsRqkBDXzLdca9UF-FUuzfrDCIpccTre5tWsrfAs0XQbrkUE/s1598/unholynight_10.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1598" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14on-9lYap-P_APggMipVDFraZXEp9l-q8iP56Z8yM0x_VOHzOXf1wJyeH5dcEB7pRUdawRX2vlaPcefD_dEX6yx4SDtFsRqkBDXzLdca9UF-FUuzfrDCIpccTre5tWsrfAs0XQbrkUE/w400-h224/unholynight_10.png" width="400" /></a></div>A couple of modern, 30-ish ladies, Sarah (Candice Lidstone) and Katie (Julie Mainville), who live on cosmos and reality TV, head out to visit their friend Eva (Vanessa Bloomfield) for Christmas. Looking forward to a night of drunken debauchery (yes, just the three of them, and they're straight), they plan on making a video to be entered into a contest for a reality dating show. The video camera they bring along has a nightvision feature, so that they can do some "after dark confessions". I'm assuming this is a thing on those type of shows. I'm too busy scraping the bottoms of VOD barrels to watch that stuff. Anyway, once the three are together, drinks in gullet, they tell a story about Drunk Dead Debbie. The angry ghost of a woman who was encouraged by a trio of mean girls to drink to the point where she passes out and chokes to death on her vomit. Legend has it, if three women say her name and do a shot, scary Debs will appear. So naturally they do, prompting a power outage in which that nightvision video camera comes in handy.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3l89X4-b16cIA-dAUnmqHN8DIUG6sSC27-ks_BGy28xUQijtPKD4Koog7_erZ80lLmL-PeBSHZnQGj1WOtl0zGtn_O1-mgdBiWrABGdkCwNt_VS9wImONjggNi8NxcRnLiLSmjDgRl4k/s1816/unholynight_13.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1816" data-original-width="1585" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3l89X4-b16cIA-dAUnmqHN8DIUG6sSC27-ks_BGy28xUQijtPKD4Koog7_erZ80lLmL-PeBSHZnQGj1WOtl0zGtn_O1-mgdBiWrABGdkCwNt_VS9wImONjggNi8NxcRnLiLSmjDgRl4k/w349-h400/unholynight_13.png" width="349" /></a></div>Returning once again to the hospital, Iblis explains to Lilly how Christmas is just a Christian make-over of a pagan holiday, before Lilly breaks the news that she is going to head out to be with her mother on Christmas. After extracting herself from the realistically irritating Amanda's clutches, Lilly heads home to be with her mother, who turns out to be an abusive matron, belittling Lilly at every turn before locking her in a closet, as they do every year. "I do this for you, you ungrateful bitch!" Fortunately for Lilly, there is a mannequin dressed as an elf in the closet who tries to help her sort through this holiday drama. At one point he casually suggests that Lilly kill her mother, but Lilly demurs, saying "she's a piece of shit, but she's my mother." At this point the movie really kicks into gear tying up loose ends and providing the best laughs of the movie. But I can't in good conscience spoil them because I wouldn't do it justice (the humor is quirky and somewhat dry) and if you are down for low-budget SOV movies, you really should watch it and give these guys the hits they deserve.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdc-nILH2hKpPKAUFuVsQKs-PKB7VoT_TDExqp0yPPeYEYRWxnCyJbW-cH-z6xFMZgjzNDjsuVZiUpoUQY6S2mOqZC2mcRV2YG8PXUxkxRvpANXXkK6eWfxSvE-Js0W3mQH4S8OegtoI/s1598/unholynight_03.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1598" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqdc-nILH2hKpPKAUFuVsQKs-PKB7VoT_TDExqp0yPPeYEYRWxnCyJbW-cH-z6xFMZgjzNDjsuVZiUpoUQY6S2mOqZC2mcRV2YG8PXUxkxRvpANXXkK6eWfxSvE-Js0W3mQH4S8OegtoI/w400-h224/unholynight_03.png" width="400" /></a></div>Granted, watching this on a double bill after say KRAMPUS (2015) or SILENT NIGHT DEADLY NIGHT (1984), you might be setting yourself up for disappointment, but let me tell ya, after some of the back yard efforts we've been watching, it's pretty great. If you've been drinking formaldehyde, even blue-label whiskey tastes good. On the other hand, director Chris Chitaroni and writer Jimm Moir's opening story about the effects of psychedelics on Christmas dinner, in spite of a small budget and ridiculous premise, has some genuinely amusing moments and a nice sense of style, particularly when John loses it momentarily, wielding a screwdriver which they have mounted to the camera, giving the audience a screwdriver's POV of the paranoid proceedings.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOr6x5Cl06aaNoMR-ZxaKwMiQRRqyVhf1CE9H_ZxR6ArbIeIPvIXUUJJpOiXw1CcJrEDxRoxXMkSpeAmFhhtqR2LDW3QqdVLcEKCGOlaAyTbR2u2D-bV_GAbruXHaIgDu1nqVPXCu0MBs/s1598/unholynight_09.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1598" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOr6x5Cl06aaNoMR-ZxaKwMiQRRqyVhf1CE9H_ZxR6ArbIeIPvIXUUJJpOiXw1CcJrEDxRoxXMkSpeAmFhhtqR2LDW3QqdVLcEKCGOlaAyTbR2u2D-bV_GAbruXHaIgDu1nqVPXCu0MBs/w400-h224/unholynight_09.png" width="400" /></a></div>While I thought that Randy Smith's middle story about Drunk Dead Debbie was not particularly funny or scary; the horror elements ape THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT (1999), CANDYMAN (1992) and THE RING (presumably 2002), but maybe I'm just the wrong demographic. If I was one of those girls that try to model their lives after the characters on SEX AND THE CITY (1998), maybe I'd have loved it, but then again, do those women watch movies called UNHOLY NIGHT after digging through an Amazon Prime Christmas horror search? I kind of don't think so. Also, when your big climactic set-piece is someone endlessly vomiting oatmeal on someone else's face, I feel like you are not really trying.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnb7QN0FDIdj9R5EE6OlhJ_mq_B6b-2Afsxo4qz9K1E2uAMAOjoXRtao7KVD9Buugn8UA2TCeSe3cOyYT5T_CtawRGTsk_uGr0i4UE6SQkC_kGaXO0iuh1nERJriblE2ku64S7HSLp6I/s1598/unholynight_11.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1598" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnb7QN0FDIdj9R5EE6OlhJ_mq_B6b-2Afsxo4qz9K1E2uAMAOjoXRtao7KVD9Buugn8UA2TCeSe3cOyYT5T_CtawRGTsk_uGr0i4UE6SQkC_kGaXO0iuh1nERJriblE2ku64S7HSLp6I/w400-h224/unholynight_11.png" width="400" /></a></div>Fortunately, the final story, which is also an extension of the wrap-around, directed by Kristian Lariviere who co-wrote it with Jennifer Allanson (Lilly), sends us out on a high note. Good enough to stand on its own as a feature, this does so many things right I can't list them all here. Not only does Lariviere and Allanson write a nicely layered script, with dry, sardonic humor and believe-it-or-not at least one multidimensional character, but Lariviere's directorial skills are so far above the usual shot on digital dross that there were times where I was genuinely blown away.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKK0ns8wzQHp-xv916becoiGb4KYl21kJjzdY8kKn4PJlriod0n-5qVqsiEPGAw6SGYZzZk7xOCOg4AyiSRWfXSbEsrQy62u-EZtlNJzJ5tBr7DKvtbD1og2uqpl9zeIAp6mgBa0S-C9A/s1598/unholynight_01b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="986" data-original-width="1598" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKK0ns8wzQHp-xv916becoiGb4KYl21kJjzdY8kKn4PJlriod0n-5qVqsiEPGAw6SGYZzZk7xOCOg4AyiSRWfXSbEsrQy62u-EZtlNJzJ5tBr7DKvtbD1og2uqpl9zeIAp6mgBa0S-C9A/w400-h246/unholynight_01b.png" width="400" /></a></div>For instance, when making a low-budget DTV movie, there is really no way you can afford crane or helicopter shots. That's for the majors, but while most of these movie makers leave it at that, Lariviere uses drone technology to give us some fantastic aerial shots, broadening the scope and setting the tone. It's such a simple and obvious solution, that I'm kind of amazed that not one of these other shot on digital movies has done it. Granted, most of them aren't going to be caught dead thinking outside the box and probably wouldn't spend the money on it anyway, but they should. Also, Lariviere's camera direction features some creative, professional-looking shots, prowling around corners of long hallways, peering over bannisters, and even leaving the camera static to allow some jokes to take place off-screen. Polished direction, great lighting, solid acting, deftly written, minimal, but excellently crafted make-up and digital effects, what the hell is going on around here? I don't have anything to bitch about! That's ok though, this Christmas miracle doesn't come around even once a year, so you can be sure I'll be punished for having such an enjoyable ride next time out.Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-21390547932386960952020-12-14T06:50:00.009-08:002022-12-25T13:05:06.876-08:00December to Dismember: CHRISTMAS WITH COOKIE (2016)<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8P_4Cj4vFiPFLrJTWF045Jz5j-jMbkiINkPUT9yOUd7UEYTg7woV5w3j9x0zRxlmsqbGH76OMuGo8Qv913eZB3e3ieGC3s0BxC470qRsaNJ8JFXmztrLd3NgdJcDu2cQn2Lweh-iszf4/s1011/cookie1.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1011" data-original-width="730" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8P_4Cj4vFiPFLrJTWF045Jz5j-jMbkiINkPUT9yOUd7UEYTg7woV5w3j9x0zRxlmsqbGH76OMuGo8Qv913eZB3e3ieGC3s0BxC470qRsaNJ8JFXmztrLd3NgdJcDu2cQn2Lweh-iszf4/w289-h400/cookie1.jpg" width="289" /></a></p><p><i>[by William S. Wilson]</i></p>The snowy landscape sure has changed since we started our Christmas horror reviews almost a decade ago. The biggest change we’ve seen has been the explosion of streaming services, which offer the indiest of independent filmmakers an avenue to millions of home and revenue streams in the tens of dollars (if they are lucky). We thought this year we might not have enough Yuletide samplings to cover a month of reviews. But then we typed “Christmas horror” into Amazon Prime and were suddenly greeted with a virtual advent calendar of things to choose. Titles for short films like SCARY LITTLE FOCKERS, HAUNTED CHRISTMAS and NIGHT OF THE KRAMPUS (how has Tom NOT reviewed that one already?). One that piqued my interest was a trilogy of films under the CHRISTMAS WITH COOKIE moniker. I like cookies, but this Cookie is an elf who tells horror stories. He’s like the Crypt Keeper with diabetes. Now, before I continue I should offer a warning: I am not on drugs and everything that follows really happened in this film. Well, except for one fake thing I’ll add. Gotta make this fun.<p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKUrmHd0v6ZRn_I_igtqB5mE5pn-mc6LuH54HkOOIekQLSPj-8rEGY_VeBJBPbmZsj6VNJNAMtjQEbvU_YQcPoeEGQUnFchsnvPCn3ihtKrhjNlv4x8ephszaLS94pfkSx4EbQkw2GuHk/s1280/cookie2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKUrmHd0v6ZRn_I_igtqB5mE5pn-mc6LuH54HkOOIekQLSPj-8rEGY_VeBJBPbmZsj6VNJNAMtjQEbvU_YQcPoeEGQUnFchsnvPCn3ihtKrhjNlv4x8ephszaLS94pfkSx4EbQkw2GuHk/w400-h225/cookie2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>You know things are gonna get silly when the first onscreen credit you see is IT’S A FUCKING FIRST DRAFT PRODUCTIONS. The film opens in <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1MRO3dXg0vlF1hz_o1Qf6xBKQ0OVpXbowno9gUuTQwPqg8J-uuqLPhiyaHKk437zOb12qSWlmaYZRCNhWOHKAI5-M8W8Vw2MZBvtO5wy2-JYWkbOuUz8SLTZkT0Pvjlwb6HqDwtnJo4Q/s1280/cookie4.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="811" data-original-width="1280" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1MRO3dXg0vlF1hz_o1Qf6xBKQ0OVpXbowno9gUuTQwPqg8J-uuqLPhiyaHKk437zOb12qSWlmaYZRCNhWOHKAI5-M8W8Vw2MZBvtO5wy2-JYWkbOuUz8SLTZkT0Pvjlwb6HqDwtnJo4Q/w400-h254/cookie4.jpg" width="400" /></a>the year 3978 with Cookie the Elf (writer/co-director Alex Maxson) in his shack on the moon. Cookie is obsessed with cookies and this is conveyed by him being surrounded by yummy looking cookies. Cookie’s make-up is kind of a cross between Freddy Krueger, Michael Berryman and your weird, single uncle. He decides to tell us the story of the last Christmas ever...I think. This involves going back to 2016 where siblings Peter (Justin Armao) and Prudence Pole (Breeanna Judy) are unwrapping their Christmas presents. He is expecting that teenage tortoise costume and she wants a burpy doll. Instead, they received a DVD of BLOODSUCKA JONES (2013) and a bottle of anal lube, respectively. Jeez, I don’t know who is screwed worse! They are justifiably disappointed and Peter vows “revenge on that fat fuck” Santa Claus. Said retribution involves creating a potion that will enable them to get revenge at the most opportune time. It kills them. Oh, I wish I was so lucky.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEPD9kAjsN9Ak_Z4XXWRJ9Ljfu3xcMCFZr5v5sIS4xH19rG-4Sq7v24oPxQbatVdXzkhs4APSP-rCunjkyeC4PimkHU17CJxTN8DmofXHfO2Zjxocho0mMMggSHLVlnqdyytq9Q7zcXJo/s1280/cookie3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="1280" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEPD9kAjsN9Ak_Z4XXWRJ9Ljfu3xcMCFZr5v5sIS4xH19rG-4Sq7v24oPxQbatVdXzkhs4APSP-rCunjkyeC4PimkHU17CJxTN8DmofXHfO2Zjxocho0mMMggSHLVlnqdyytq9Q7zcXJo/w400-h217/cookie3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Fast forward one thousand years (!) and Earth is a barren desert wasteland. The only two surviving people are Santa Claus (Maxson again) and Mrs. Claus (Dana Austen), both of whom wear masks because the sun has burned their skin. They just wander the desert over and over, which must mean this is an opportune time as Peter and Prudence pop up as skeletons. Before you get excited with Harryhausen dreams, know these are store bought plastic Halloween skeletons spray painted green and red. Obviously still pissed at Santa, the siblings attack the Claus clan and in the middle of their bloody battle (yes, the skeletons bleed buckets) Mrs. Claus is zapped up into a passing UFO. I swear to you that is not the part I’m making up. The aliens demand to be taken to the leader of Earth and Santa is the man thanks to him being the last man on Earth.<div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_zF4mPeowuRK4mpQTHtAkahh0g6B-dNfhUuHjwkZWOsTRs19cMzSFxaVuOm96nQFDcJJxlSyZ7zSfgd76AZI0ii9-VM4PtJi4jkl3dYajdiHjVhJCrE4N74h89SXqeBbIXUqCbQdHCM/s1280/cookie9.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_zF4mPeowuRK4mpQTHtAkahh0g6B-dNfhUuHjwkZWOsTRs19cMzSFxaVuOm96nQFDcJJxlSyZ7zSfgd76AZI0ii9-VM4PtJi4jkl3dYajdiHjVhJCrE4N74h89SXqeBbIXUqCbQdHCM/w400-h225/cookie9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>After dispatching the Prudence skeleton, Santa battles the aliens and Peter skeleton to save his wife. He succeeds and the Clauses decide to end their adversaries once and for all with a cartoon-looking bomb. They give it to <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWaetzxT3CL1HlAG3cElUy6wfgPGAb_O_6a0R5qcQ7xiL1-AzWshf5E7ePvZLOt5Sa9DhV_f3QpbrfUMvEVlCsZvExmRtq5xrnIYOGtNQpMKEAVqWtfJGPvnQkXfxStIa3EitHJQPEFk/s1280/cookie7.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWaetzxT3CL1HlAG3cElUy6wfgPGAb_O_6a0R5qcQ7xiL1-AzWshf5E7ePvZLOt5Sa9DhV_f3QpbrfUMvEVlCsZvExmRtq5xrnIYOGtNQpMKEAVqWtfJGPvnQkXfxStIa3EitHJQPEFk/w400-h225/cookie7.jpg" width="400" /></a>the alien as a Xmas gift, but not before the alien gives them some cookies. Poisoned cookies! And they both keel over and die. Wow, the story is already over at 29 minutes...wait a sec, the run time on this sumbitch said it was 53 minutes. Yup, the filmmakers pull a swerve and things are about to get weirder. Yes, weirder. Santa and his wife are immortal beings and they just sleep long enough for another thousand years to pass. When they wake up, the Earth is fertile again. However, the natives aren’t friendly since Mrs. Claus gets a poisonous dart shot into her neck. A note on the dart mentions that Santa can find the antidote in the belly of the Abominable Snowman. What? You didn’t have a 50-foot Yeti on your plot prediction card? Santa gets swallowed by the monster and exits via his rectum. Somehow killing Pooky (yes, its name was Pooky) upsets the beast’s father (Evan Mack) and his sidekick Frrrrank (Kevin Lau). This results in the dad shrinking down in size and entering Santa’s body to do, uh, something? The duo then rip off Santa’s hands and feet. It all wraps up with some new aliens showing up and blowing up Earth.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WA5k7fw6US4kRboiQnI9ypbRIDXU04DhOhsMNoPL6Obc17LeILWL7SMCKCFsPbY5m4131ODwygg5-UT9bycHXUEPWpOhPQqdWtcAblpnggbmRuGGucJuW7sfeDdZHg7KxgwHZhKkKng/s1280/cookie5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="1280" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-WA5k7fw6US4kRboiQnI9ypbRIDXU04DhOhsMNoPL6Obc17LeILWL7SMCKCFsPbY5m4131ODwygg5-UT9bycHXUEPWpOhPQqdWtcAblpnggbmRuGGucJuW7sfeDdZHg7KxgwHZhKkKng/w640-h348/cookie5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4MTVZillHvZNA43KXkgWm66z3XjE6ueHVynp0fMwgIikWVtDN5FTlV9AGKTM7u7KlmWxIstU2o2GJjOPN967Sp3iQs2BuL61qwzfErjEzI5cByCfu6o_P9X1KVY674r8djpuG2KvLvv8/s1280/cookie8.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4MTVZillHvZNA43KXkgWm66z3XjE6ueHVynp0fMwgIikWVtDN5FTlV9AGKTM7u7KlmWxIstU2o2GJjOPN967Sp3iQs2BuL61qwzfErjEzI5cByCfu6o_P9X1KVY674r8djpuG2KvLvv8/w400-h225/cookie8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Okay, who put the LSD in my eggnog? CHRISTMAS WITH COOKIE has all the ingredients (ha!) of a madcap comedy and you can’t accuse it of having a wafer (haha!) thin plot. The filmmakers certainly went above and beyond to deliver never-before-seen images. In fact, it is so over-the-top that I kind of wish it had more than the publicly acknowledged $1,000 budget. Despite the lack of funds, there are some elements I found genuinely funny like Mrs. Claus having a zhick German ack-scent and the filmmakers creating a desert landscape at one point with a cheap tarp tacked to a wall (see alien pic below). Everyone in the cast seems to get the spirit of what they are doing. If I had to single anyone out, it would be Evan Mack as the yeti’s vengeful father. His facial expressions killed me and his delivery was a comedic highlight, sounds like a deaf voodoo priest hopped up on speed. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEird5vlBFZ7rtqowK2vAAwKgJIHfv0Wlttog1L5U1OlXlnRnOTeBvd4ZPje4Yjmien3FOkP6WhrFktANmV88O8IGU61Wb1tqTwMRrpPQMSNCxAVp1YNTnqcbnhinecE7bC4VAHoRJdDIaU/s1280/cookie6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="718" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEird5vlBFZ7rtqowK2vAAwKgJIHfv0Wlttog1L5U1OlXlnRnOTeBvd4ZPje4Yjmien3FOkP6WhrFktANmV88O8IGU61Wb1tqTwMRrpPQMSNCxAVp1YNTnqcbnhinecE7bC4VAHoRJdDIaU/w640-h360/cookie6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuag7R2yoPtARcm8bE0enqn1GcZOiHSQcnDraj7mikPm2XGHYCUbGKp2RjroB8BS5wq6LuXEM7bY2WVIGLQRXmZ3mdGTv0znIwVS1l9dou6-RBJNg79GY78gZlPYhg6B7Uw1K_kg5dm4/s1280/cookie10.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="814" data-original-width="1280" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuag7R2yoPtARcm8bE0enqn1GcZOiHSQcnDraj7mikPm2XGHYCUbGKp2RjroB8BS5wq6LuXEM7bY2WVIGLQRXmZ3mdGTv0znIwVS1l9dou6-RBJNg79GY78gZlPYhg6B7Uw1K_kg5dm4/w400-h255/cookie10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Cookie is probably the best character in the movie as he is the best realized in terms of make-up and performance. Trust me, you’ll be talking like him (imagine Cookie Monster with a six pack a day smoking habit) by the end. Oddly, he never interacts with the main cast. Which kind of makes me sad because Cookie was the selling point for me and is by far the most interesting character. With Cookie so isolated, one would think the filmmakers just acquired an unrelated horror short and shoehorned in their Cookie segments, but the same filmmakers made both the hosting bits and main feature. However, that doesn’t appear to be the case with the sequels as CHRISTMAS WITH COOKIE: LOCKED AWAY (2017) and CHRISTMAS WITH COOKIE: THE WATCHING (2018) have everyone’s favorite elf just introducing movies the group didn’t make. The best news? They aren’t centered around the holidays so I didn’t need to proceed any further for my review. Now this is the kind of Christmas miracle I can dig! As it stands, CHRISTMAS WITH COOKIE is the kind of thing any super-high Troma fan might dig. Sidenote: I’d love to think some kids discovered Cookie on Amazon Prime and pestered their parents relentlessly until they all sat down to watch it and then quickly had a family meeting. Oh, by the way, the one thing I made up in this review? Santa doesn’t exit the Abominable Snowman via his anus. Yes, somehow the filmmakers filled the film with juvenile potty humor but missed that gaping opportunity like they didn’t give a shit. Ah, boo yourself.Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-19619918497142259152020-12-11T08:00:00.006-08:002022-12-25T13:00:14.063-08:00December to Dismember: MRS. CLAUS (2018)<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFSZiRTMpl93FuMj6jfGCOFby2FnvvrJxbhjUEhg4ltjs02BTDp_uiYxAFtCh5f3v54BsXc3tzktFtYtaSCo_PmA7LFAcK7xyRgGvkWvETUl4qDc_DJEAa3MvnyxKuFZnArBx0WX8J238/s2048/mrsclaus_vid.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1437" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFSZiRTMpl93FuMj6jfGCOFby2FnvvrJxbhjUEhg4ltjs02BTDp_uiYxAFtCh5f3v54BsXc3tzktFtYtaSCo_PmA7LFAcK7xyRgGvkWvETUl4qDc_DJEAa3MvnyxKuFZnArBx0WX8J238/w281-h400/mrsclaus_vid.jpg" width="281" /></a> They say it's the most wonderful time of the year. They also say that suicide rates go up at Christmas. This is not true, it actually goes up in January when you realize that you spent the mortgage on a bunch of ungrateful jerks that you happen to share DNA with. For some reason, Christmas also seems to be the time when lazy VOD grifters entrap genre fans with terrible, no talent productions that serve only to make them want to buy SILENT NIGHT DEADLY NIGHT 2 action figures to remind themselves that even <i>that</i> shameless cashgrab is better than 99% of the new junk. Case in point, MRS. CLAUS.</p><p></p><p>Advertised as starring '80s low-budget horror favorite Brinke Stevens, the movie opens on a Christmas pledge night. In a very small Delta Sigma Sigma sorority house that only seems to have only three sisters, chubby pledge Angela (Mel Heflin) is being forced to dip her tongue into some murky toilet water. As if that wasn't bad enough, sorority super-bitch Amber (Kaylee Williams) hands her a black dildo (though it took a rewind to see it since it quickly flashes across the bottom corner of the camera) and says that they need to see her *ahem* use it. I don't understand why Angela doesn't smack the smug bitch in the face with it, but then again I've never understood the appeal of Greek life.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLtDpp4f6Y-d7lAqY4wrA6pN9VkHffGhoyELlqAhPOE49FgDiucbSZzIsC3WNI19lKLh46ug6Sk9DVdFkoP_LtZ02RB4ntxatuImC_p8-d3NbBAtFrsdh8rRTZ7J0_7-50Vc2o6kCOnUo/s1602/mrsclaus_02.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="897" data-original-width="1602" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLtDpp4f6Y-d7lAqY4wrA6pN9VkHffGhoyELlqAhPOE49FgDiucbSZzIsC3WNI19lKLh46ug6Sk9DVdFkoP_LtZ02RB4ntxatuImC_p8-d3NbBAtFrsdh8rRTZ7J0_7-50Vc2o6kCOnUo/w400-h224/mrsclaus_02.png" width="400" /></a></div>Nope, Angela wilts like a daisy under a blowtorch and makes little jerking motions out of view of the camera. The sorority bitches laugh and tell her that she's still not getting in! This causes Angela to run into a bedroom, crying, sobbing and screaming into a pillow. Apparently the pillow cut off the oxygen flow to her brain as she decides to go into Amber's room, in the middle of the night while she's asleep, stuff the dildo down her throat, straddle her and stab her about a billion times. If this were in a slasher movie in the '80s cocktail-party Freudians like Gene Siskel would have had a field day. Unfortunately it's 2020 and nobody gives a shit. About anything. After this rather excessive outburst, Angela decides to hang herself from the tree in the front yard. This may not seem like such a bad idea after another 80 minutes of this movie.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBPF79UjyZ6tNLeurE19cxgLK9UjCbzpd2diI7JR6xE57bYD6FZjj53gZhEYk5_eJWOBlfDd-NMuxfm-Wqa01a0lgxa8v9qVYmpQ6fy2-9ofwTr-tZAnocy7er9GdRPPvPjcuZzHONprc/s1603/mrsclaus_04b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1603" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBPF79UjyZ6tNLeurE19cxgLK9UjCbzpd2diI7JR6xE57bYD6FZjj53gZhEYk5_eJWOBlfDd-NMuxfm-Wqa01a0lgxa8v9qVYmpQ6fy2-9ofwTr-tZAnocy7er9GdRPPvPjcuZzHONprc/w400-h223/mrsclaus_04b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Cut to present day where the little, nervous sister of the evil Amanda, Danielle (Hailey Strader, who looks absolutely nothing like her alleged sister) is pledging that very same sorority where her sister was murdered. Why? Because it makes her feel closer to her or something. Not only is this plot convenience only vaguely explained, but this is also a cue for Danielle to release her inner uber-drama queen and be so-very fragile and dramatic. How that po' chil' never suffers from an attack of the vapors, I'll never know.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibsyO-gV_cPnl8uL_Oiy5P6G07LlIwe6jKeR9JWVXoRVJmIJEhi3C4DU_S7xNjEEWF8B9oaLYMqJlSSbUBnvS95ZRAA46ef4JWoYfkYZIpQYn3W64dPuU-zW35iDAJuGYPtuEBdCjQulw/s1602/mrsclaus_03b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="897" data-original-width="1602" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibsyO-gV_cPnl8uL_Oiy5P6G07LlIwe6jKeR9JWVXoRVJmIJEhi3C4DU_S7xNjEEWF8B9oaLYMqJlSSbUBnvS95ZRAA46ef4JWoYfkYZIpQYn3W64dPuU-zW35iDAJuGYPtuEBdCjQulw/w400-h224/mrsclaus_03b.png" width="400" /></a></div></div>After a long scene in which Danielle and, the most virginal sorority sister ever, Kala (Heather Bounds) discuss Christmas cookies and boys, Danielle gets an email from a "Mrs. Claus" which is an awkward threatening reworking of "The Night Before Christmas." Naturally, this freaks Danielle out, goes into drama queen mode and it's up to token Black sister Monica (Jantel Hope) to settle down the twitchy little white girl. So let me get this straight. A neurotic little girl deliberately moves into the house that her sister was murdered in, on the very anniversary of that murder, and she's losing her shit because stuff (and people) keep reminding her of this fact and is constantly playing up her reprehensible sister as a saint. Uhhh, am I supposed to like her? I mean, she's the protagonist, but damn, I'm rooting for the killer.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJqhtzAqyt1tA4FKvaCYDJVDo-MtJixQSbTP1lNWawNgOojrPF08rsaAjASY-SELhJaZRTlBgWs4dErFsRCT0EAy_3dO_D7fbwyf4RR8UP-EPBlycvEas49nUI6GQqKajxgWfI4OwgvM/s1834/mrsclaus_11.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1834" data-original-width="1603" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJqhtzAqyt1tA4FKvaCYDJVDo-MtJixQSbTP1lNWawNgOojrPF08rsaAjASY-SELhJaZRTlBgWs4dErFsRCT0EAy_3dO_D7fbwyf4RR8UP-EPBlycvEas49nUI6GQqKajxgWfI4OwgvM/w350-h400/mrsclaus_11.png" width="350" /></a></div>Also in the sorority is Sophie (Daiane Azura), who appears to be a 30-something stripper who is sleeping with annoying jock Grant (Ryan Poole). After smarmily telling her sisters that she's not going to be sticking around for their lame Christmas party (she's kind of a jerk, but she's right), she gets a threatening text on her phone in her SUV and is promptly garroted by someone in a wrinkly mask and a Santa outfit. This leads to Angela's mother, Mrs. Werner (Helene Udy), showing up at the house going all Karen-esque cray-cray on Danielle, claiming that her daughter was murdered by the sister who was murdered by her daughter. Got that? Yes, for some reason, the writer-director Troy Escamilla, decided to make the motivation for the distraught mother of stab-happy Angela, some sort of affected Trump supporter type who screams a whacko theory that her daughter was the murdered one. Why this would be, is never made clear. It almost seems like this is a set up for Danielle to start to realize that maybe her sister wasn't a saint after all. You know, like a character arc? Yeah, that's not the kind of movie that this is.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56bYVhom8SN7aFMVkY6APBdosqm4dR_88jCQuqOrA1ivKcA0I3zXU4IDzzIXbPQxCX_MG4vCT9U6eySCOMW1J72u4E5b5jVxamR-p-tXWmy82dwpucFNDsTDiqljjMov_I6d-fKrwOi4/s1966/mrsclaus_12.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1966" data-original-width="1603" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh56bYVhom8SN7aFMVkY6APBdosqm4dR_88jCQuqOrA1ivKcA0I3zXU4IDzzIXbPQxCX_MG4vCT9U6eySCOMW1J72u4E5b5jVxamR-p-tXWmy82dwpucFNDsTDiqljjMov_I6d-fKrwOi4/w326-h400/mrsclaus_12.png" width="326" /></a></div>After everyone except slothful sister Madison goes to run errands in anticipation of this epic Christmas party, Madison gets some texts and finally gets off her ass to check out the tree. For some reason she finds some hair decorating the Christmas tree (yeah, I don't know either). Even worse, she turns around to catch a plastic sword in her gut, which amazingly causes her to gush blood in a reasonably decent effect. I say reasonably decent because I just watched <a href="https://vidjunkie.blogspot.com/2020/12/december-to-dismember-killer-christmas.html" target="_blank">KILLER CHRISTMAS (2017)</a> which couldn't be bothered to do anything remotely like that. We also get a subplot about Tyler (Jace Greenwood), a gay podcaster who whines about the evils of sororities, yet still decides to go to the DSS party. Maybe he's just going because it is going to prove his theories about sororities being a waste of time. As it is, he pretty much just shows up so that Monica can put the moves on him only to find out the totally obvious fact that he's gay. Why? I don't know! Monica takes off, leaving him outside to be murdered by our Santa slasher by having a large candy cane shoved down his throat. C'mon man, no punchline here. Too easy.</div><div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYwfVvm09Vj6_ngl9f4lWE0xCh3auEPVYebkUj_qZ_noHmA8VDaIp-pW-S2Ph92xwByK1Cf5_3GExmA6Cs4ED_AIoKpD4Wg6K5gBEWLVp_UiqySGNGVnWRYMlcgDlKBfCPAJ11kc2aZA/s1604/mrsclaus_13b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1007" data-original-width="1604" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYwfVvm09Vj6_ngl9f4lWE0xCh3auEPVYebkUj_qZ_noHmA8VDaIp-pW-S2Ph92xwByK1Cf5_3GExmA6Cs4ED_AIoKpD4Wg6K5gBEWLVp_UiqySGNGVnWRYMlcgDlKBfCPAJ11kc2aZA/w400-h251/mrsclaus_13b.png" width="400" /></a></div>We also get an annoying hipster guy Jake (Drew Shotwell) who is desperately trying to be the coolest dude in the room. Which is really not that hard. Amusingly at one point he heads into the garage with the girl he came with to smoke some pot and sit on a mattress, but for some reason, he spurns her advances with the old "that was just a one-time thing" and "we're just friends" lines. What the hell is with the weird anti-relationships in this movie? Is this Escamilla working through some sort of rejection catharsis? After long bits of what is supposed to be stoner comedy, the two embrace only to get a Christmas garden sign stabbed through their throats ala BAY OF BLOOD (1971), sorry, I mean FRIDAY THE 13TH PART 2 (1981). Nobody who made this movie has ever heard of Mario Bava.</div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhQGrrd8QmdmTjRbypEK6eHV248q1SOfl6EaMwJJ51RjxOxrQxD7wzz6WwacY-D7hR3OcqsfWVDMeXAD_utiw-YGFwZcvh7lvcPd6RsLg0FQ0_B8Tdcvys0WoAtwM_FJ4di0g1aeIp48/s1598/mrsclaus_14.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="989" data-original-width="1598" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhQGrrd8QmdmTjRbypEK6eHV248q1SOfl6EaMwJJ51RjxOxrQxD7wzz6WwacY-D7hR3OcqsfWVDMeXAD_utiw-YGFwZcvh7lvcPd6RsLg0FQ0_B8Tdcvys0WoAtwM_FJ4di0g1aeIp48/w400-h248/mrsclaus_14.png" width="400" /></a></div>Hey, you know something. Wasn't there a big name in this movie? Oh yeah, Brinke Stevens! Brinke has been cast as Campus PD Officer Cornell, who stops by to question the kids about the disappearance of Sophie. So yeah, there you go. <p>Meanwhile in the alleged party, Grant has decided that they should tell the worst Christmas stories they've ever had. Touchy-feely boyfriend of Danielle, Kyle (Billy Brannigan), tells a long winded tale of his great grandfather having "really, really bad diarrhea," then it's Danielle's turn! Wait, they all forgot, damn, how could they ask her such a thing?! Danielle gently nails herself to a cross and decides to talk about how the death of her sister made her feel: "I felt like I deserved to be haunted by what happened to her." What? Why? Will someone <i>please </i>kill her already?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rrjmjh1OPQUn_sHZo2rxxo0VdAuFfmnT-s3xavSxe9s5ts4oE7VFLGmYGviwg5QF8Gp2t4ShmlCI_SVGwBmGMPZoXIpvMteu4RgQ8ZJxhe9v1jhALuwxXbXsLqdXV8r4u8rMBw5IABY/s1604/mrsclaus_15.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="896" data-original-width="1604" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rrjmjh1OPQUn_sHZo2rxxo0VdAuFfmnT-s3xavSxe9s5ts4oE7VFLGmYGviwg5QF8Gp2t4ShmlCI_SVGwBmGMPZoXIpvMteu4RgQ8ZJxhe9v1jhALuwxXbXsLqdXV8r4u8rMBw5IABY/w400-h224/mrsclaus_15.png" width="400" /></a></div>While the cast is whittled down in some surprisingly unspectacular ways (Monica's beheading is literally done with what appears to be a pink mannequin), and we suffer through over-long attempts at, presumably ad-libbed, dialogue and humor (Grant decides to try to do some clumsy white-boy twerking in the girls' faces). Finally we get down to the final two and [SPOILERS] we discover that it is Mrs. Werner (Angela's mom) running around killing peeps to get revenge for her daughter. Which everybody watching this guessed literally when she made her one, and up until this point, only appearance. The twist comes when we discover that Officer Cornell is actually her sister and she is helping with the killings as a Christmas present to her sister, before she smashes a machete in her sister's head! Wait, what? Yeah, fuck if I know. We also get an epilogue set a year later, on Christmas, in which Danielle and Kyle get another threatening message from Mrs. Claus. The end. [/SPOILERS]<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHHuYC9yod0O7ldl3s_ZEEsK0dKxW-wmbKpMNDuHfP1PnG3O2MVYPeeBo9aRiVJUG5gLlzZnpBRylwHhTlM6Di6uZ_HJjvsA_oWBOuniFP2KCKZSm9BTqRSjs3G5FXJU-zEA1ikktS_Y/s1603/mrsclaus_10.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1603" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHHuYC9yod0O7ldl3s_ZEEsK0dKxW-wmbKpMNDuHfP1PnG3O2MVYPeeBo9aRiVJUG5gLlzZnpBRylwHhTlM6Di6uZ_HJjvsA_oWBOuniFP2KCKZSm9BTqRSjs3G5FXJU-zEA1ikktS_Y/w400-h223/mrsclaus_10.png" width="400" /></a></div>In pro-wrestling there are a subsection of fans who call themselves "smart marks". Essentially this means that they believe they understand how pro-wrestling works. The heels and the faces, wearing the red mask, shoot interviews, they know their shit and wrestling promoters can't fool them. Until they do. In some ways there is a subset of genre movie fans who have no self-congratulatory title, but think they know genre movies. Promoters can't fool them with hyped remakes, spiffy box-art, and clever, high-concept titles. Until they do. Ironically these people can be reeled in sometimes easier than your average schmoe (hi, my name is Thomas...). We want to jump on your bandwagon. We want to say "holy shit, I found this under-the-radar movie that shouldn't be good, but it is!" And as the saying goes, you can want in one hand and crap in the other and see which gets full first.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjygOQ0kh4Z3xGH33YUywTFeeuZvq0xKSDBzzuWnwoj9wKt_L0zdt7UfldXbQTOzMwuAfIXFwV0fGlcWDij9wnZGgLBc1aHtOrFUS7n4904wbyKEvBOYV7-NodDwoiuHKBgBKLp7PkCpk/s768/stirring2018_vid.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjygOQ0kh4Z3xGH33YUywTFeeuZvq0xKSDBzzuWnwoj9wKt_L0zdt7UfldXbQTOzMwuAfIXFwV0fGlcWDij9wnZGgLBc1aHtOrFUS7n4904wbyKEvBOYV7-NodDwoiuHKBgBKLp7PkCpk/s320/stirring2018_vid.jpg" /></a></div>Brought to us by the marketing tricksters Wild Eye Releasing, who specialize in no-budget digital shot amateur horror with slick box art and catchy retitles (not Uncork'd, but their identical twin), MRS. CLAUS stays true to form. Originally titled STIRRING, as you may have guessed, this has precisely zero to do with Mrs. Claus other than it being a woman in a Santa outfit with a wrinkly old-person mask who uses the name when emailing and texting her victims. It would have been a pretty nifty idea to have the real Mrs. Claus go off her meds and decide that she had enough of this cheery Christmas horseshit and turn into an American equivalent of Krampus, bringing terrible gifts to those who deserve it during the Holidays. But of course, Escamilla really doesn't want to think too hard and just tries to feebly ape his favorite slashers which he, of course, has one of his characters shout about. "Have you guys seen SILENT NIGHT DEADLY NIGHT? About the killer Santa who hacks the shit out of the naughty peeps".<p></p><p>You'd think with the hanging in the beginning we'd get some sort of CONJURING (2013) haunted hanging tree goofballery, but no, nobody cares. Hell, it's not even a sorority house, it's just a condo with a very small living room. Of course I can't bitch too much since Will just sat through another one of those "everything takes place in a storage unit" movies.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsY_Vc_E2T7wsYoLNtS-LO1Guy-kcPSXDsmLQ7cxA1cAVtREHJwH6a656UD9C-zi6QSbXxizoKLgUjmoiQHJc0jwjEv8iAibsGyDq1w5PqCH4dWIoSveunMetuC_Tba-h76tZmvT6Mcw/s1855/mrsclaus_18.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1855" data-original-width="1604" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsY_Vc_E2T7wsYoLNtS-LO1Guy-kcPSXDsmLQ7cxA1cAVtREHJwH6a656UD9C-zi6QSbXxizoKLgUjmoiQHJc0jwjEv8iAibsGyDq1w5PqCH4dWIoSveunMetuC_Tba-h76tZmvT6Mcw/w346-h400/mrsclaus_18.png" width="346" /></a></div>There are occasional moments where it seems like it could be get on track to be entertaining in spite of it's lack of budget, actors and locations. We get a few decent gore effects in the beginning of the movie (hey, with movies like this, stab and garotte wounds qualify as decent), but then they start resorting to cutting away, or zooming in to crop off areas, so that they don't have to be bothered to do any effects. Grant gets his head stabbed through with something, maybe a wire attached to a tree topper, but with a jiggling camera, jump edits and a close-up of his face makes it so you can't even really tell. And don't get me started on the mannequin, that shit is unforgivable. At least make up the mannequin to look like there is a bloody stump and maybe, I dunno, use a Black mannequin for a Black actor. I know, crazy talk. Unfortunately, most of the movie is pretty much the lamest party (sorority or otherwise) ever with a handful of people sitting in a living room being bored. This takes on a new MC Escher meets Evard Munch level of discomfort when you the audience are sitting in a living room being bored watching people sitting in a living room being bored. Thank god I wasn't tripping on acid. </div></div>Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-26013553200141291802020-12-08T07:15:00.008-08:002022-12-25T13:05:23.283-08:00December to Dismember: UGLY SWEATER PARTY (2018)<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXdTlQ8OV6UGiazlmB6svad0nEk8LEQ2QYMeQizHQ5PkXb3Lq8gRk3vgiwBLvCfNl22ag6go_lMCo6IqyMSJMBEdnJk3owp2Fk9UEuVCIIuoaSWesrYE8nx8D5zEljQ5TSHFI9CRg1Q_o/s1280/ugly1.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="905" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXdTlQ8OV6UGiazlmB6svad0nEk8LEQ2QYMeQizHQ5PkXb3Lq8gRk3vgiwBLvCfNl22ag6go_lMCo6IqyMSJMBEdnJk3owp2Fk9UEuVCIIuoaSWesrYE8nx8D5zEljQ5TSHFI9CRg1Q_o/s320/ugly1.jpg" /></a></p><p><i>[by William S. Wilson]</i></p>Remember as a kid when you asked for a Big Wheel for Christmas? Each day was excruciatingly long as you pined for the tricycle of the 1970s Gods. When the day finally arrived, you were excited to find that Big Wheel box under the Christmas tree, but continued to feel that agonizing wait as your dad had to put this plastic pedal transportation together. With each intense minute that passed, the dreams in your head of hopping on the seat and taking off down the street at 50 miles-per-hour grew bigger and bigger. Finally, after hours of anticipation, you are able to jump on, put your feet on the pedals, summon all of your 5-year-old energy...and slowly drag out of your driveway at a snail’s pace. The point of this story? UGLY SWEATER PARTY is the movie equivalent of that disappointing Big Wheel experience.<p></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi62GHDhMJZLPagieSDMEXCaPFrQXGKEWuu0JBk8f6pBvkKththAdUR9WFli-TyWInyVU4pgNLAnlBOqGYEoquXa_myBhGCjQw3eEycbjPqSQ1uoag3VHdhDBCLZA_ZZdTdtmGl5lqa-sY/s1280/ugly2.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi62GHDhMJZLPagieSDMEXCaPFrQXGKEWuu0JBk8f6pBvkKththAdUR9WFli-TyWInyVU4pgNLAnlBOqGYEoquXa_myBhGCjQw3eEycbjPqSQ1uoag3VHdhDBCLZA_ZZdTdtmGl5lqa-sY/w400-h225/ugly2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The film opens with Detective Brolin (Brad Potts) interrogating serial killer Declan Rains (Sean Whalen) at a black site. The cheapo nature of the production is showcased right away as it is clearly a bedroom with some sheets and fake cobwebs thrown on the walls. You couldn’t find a dingy basement? As Brolin tells his partner, Rains is a real sicko who “chopped up four families on Christmas Eve” and the cackling killer reveals Satan gives him all of his power. If you think the Lord works in mysterious ways, wait until you find out that Satan possessed Rains via a ugly Christmas sweater with a glowing pentagram in the chest. The cops eventually wrap his noggin in Christmas paper before blowing his head up. The blood splatter spells “Merry Fuckin’ Christmas” on the wall.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51hEb8p2G5C8rGXWX4Jp3cyuxYaigqmr4fcmLzIkis8oo1iQxd0gb1a2iQ8hkYw-AYyFrpfATHuO1AH5L3osuWJUQCi8rxHeOaqDh1N6iHRQrmISnAlDI2Ph4fHlILTn2ryW9A7bFvTE/s1280/ugly4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="715" data-original-width="1280" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51hEb8p2G5C8rGXWX4Jp3cyuxYaigqmr4fcmLzIkis8oo1iQxd0gb1a2iQ8hkYw-AYyFrpfATHuO1AH5L3osuWJUQCi8rxHeOaqDh1N6iHRQrmISnAlDI2Ph4fHlILTn2ryW9A7bFvTE/w400-h224/ugly4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Cut to our lead characters Cliff (Charles Chudabala) and Jody (Hunter Johnson) as they prepare to head out to a holiday party. To let you know the kind of film this is, Jody’s intro has him shaving his pubic hair and catching one of his balls in the clippers. Yeah, it’s <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD6XtuEuxL6CrsntDm9FNhM7rp0txTQN9tq4xwx9QLa34pK3Wjs8IhsL1XWH1AJYeCqzlW_D46FxbrwBMKQvkLgOJMs1FcNXHYh83YfwzzFphuaLQ0o7AOobhQpiN8NVr6tL-3AvpUsMQ/s1280/ugly3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="815" data-original-width="1280" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD6XtuEuxL6CrsntDm9FNhM7rp0txTQN9tq4xwx9QLa34pK3Wjs8IhsL1XWH1AJYeCqzlW_D46FxbrwBMKQvkLgOJMs1FcNXHYh83YfwzzFphuaLQ0o7AOobhQpiN8NVr6tL-3AvpUsMQ/w400-h255/ugly3.jpg" width="400" /></a>that kind of film. The duo are heading out to a campground at the invitation of fraternal twins Susan (Tiffani Fest) and Samantha (Emily “Don’t Givea” Dahm), a pair of wild party animals they encountered during spring break. What Jody didn’t tell Cliff is that this was an ugly sweater party and, for some odd reason, showing up without one really angers Cliff. Turns out they are in luck though as they encounter a disheveled and disoriented Brolin stumbling on the road on the way up there and buy the demonic ugly sweater off him. Problem solved but new problem gained as Cliff is quickly possessed by the spirit of Declan Rains. Naturally, this causes him to have bloody visions and sweat.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvtnpB-4j_TmHK0NjWicutU2nfivdOSeZzWk6NkNB54PUglbsc5CVdxxnJ3KsMu2rBXTD0N0UohQUo9jldK-5P5i2Wgb7pP0XwTPHgY6T4O-pY4-erR8ujGKRMYenbq8dGUiKl8e9cA4/s1280/ugly5.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="716" data-original-width="1280" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvtnpB-4j_TmHK0NjWicutU2nfivdOSeZzWk6NkNB54PUglbsc5CVdxxnJ3KsMu2rBXTD0N0UohQUo9jldK-5P5i2Wgb7pP0XwTPHgY6T4O-pY4-erR8ujGKRMYenbq8dGUiKl8e9cA4/w400-h224/ugly5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Our boys soon arrive at their destination of Camp Mandix (say it outloud). As if the scrotum slicing mentioned earlier was indication enough, we then get beaten to death with Mandix jokes. The film gushes with throbbing Mandix jokes. The owners <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOeVKqmU7CHW6YBH-IjAP5HY0ttQSv8Pi-uGWQV0TcWbLx2qTx0R0qkCLI8crEnh1Yhc_6JyEBpLYzUZ0I86rn3fU0RX7egJpDwEiX_noKmTKJCP_EDpM8Dp9NDTKOktHXa6dtBpSG8W8/s1280/ugly12.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOeVKqmU7CHW6YBH-IjAP5HY0ttQSv8Pi-uGWQV0TcWbLx2qTx0R0qkCLI8crEnh1Yhc_6JyEBpLYzUZ0I86rn3fU0RX7egJpDwEiX_noKmTKJCP_EDpM8Dp9NDTKOktHXa6dtBpSG8W8/w400-h225/ugly12.jpg" width="400" /></a>are Mr. Mandix (Marv Blauvelt) and Mrs. Mandix (Felissa Rose), who are the parents of Susan and Samantha. And it is here that horny Cliff and Jody get hit with the biggest case of Christmas blue balls as they find out this is a Christian camp and their love interests have been born again (“Oh, sweet! You got your vags tightened?” says Jody; uh, yeah). The boys get introduced to various reborn sinner types around the camp and there are some funny lines here (“Alan used to be addicted to European porn.”). Unfortunately, the ugly Christmas sweater is slowly starting to take over Cliff and makes him kill random people so he can drink their blood. The more blood, the more the sweater’s power grows. Not only that, but the sweater has an inexplicable power to make people forget the horrors they have witnessed. So it is up to Jody to save his demon friend and the day as he teams up with psychic goth girl Hanna (Lara Jean Mummert) to bring an end to this yarn. Ah, boo yourself.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJudfbgRYZfELnxPlPG7yJtpZRqLi6aM7fD_D4RhXXiHOjTx7iGRX9W-0QJ-YfsCRj6UBHlIlKF7-ZxupbL7-VdXJ-x3jn-qBudKnY6F6t71I951u3Ko55L9bE1a5970GihHJn7R0qv94/s1280/ugly6.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJudfbgRYZfELnxPlPG7yJtpZRqLi6aM7fD_D4RhXXiHOjTx7iGRX9W-0QJ-YfsCRj6UBHlIlKF7-ZxupbL7-VdXJ-x3jn-qBudKnY6F6t71I951u3Ko55L9bE1a5970GihHJn7R0qv94/w400-h225/ugly6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>As I mentioned in the intro, UGLY SWEATER PARTY is a disappointment and now I’ll try to articulate why without offending the director. Damn, this is gonna be tough. No doubt about it, the film contains an absolutely killer premise. Since the rise of ugly sweater parties in the early 2000s, it has been fertile ground for a horror movie. And then you get a synopsis like this: “An ugly sweater party turns into a bloodbath when an evil Christmas sweater possesses one of the partygoers.” An evil Christmas sweater that possesses someone? Good GAWD! My mind is ablaze with crazy ideas like the sweater weaving itself into the flesh and sinew of its host. Unfortunately, there is a wide divide between idea and execution. Look, I’m not going to hide anything from you in our relationship so let’s be blunt: The sweater in this film isn’t even a sweater. It is a yellow hooded sweatshirt. How do you screw up the thing you build your entire premise around? I guess UGLY SWEATSHIRT PARTY just didn’t have that ring to it?<p></p><p>Muddled execution seems to be the MO for writer-director Aaron Mento as visually this film is a total mess. It is garishly color corrected and edited like a seizure. I swear Mento (the freshmaker), who also edited the film, downloaded a video filter package and wondered which one he should use before screaming in his best Gary Oldman, “Every onnnnnnne!” No joke, in the opening scene we get a black-and-white filter, grainy film filter, grindhouse “damaged film” filter, and negative film image filter, sometimes in back to back shots. There is no rhyme or reason behind these. They are just splattered all over the image. Hell, in some scenes the same shot will be color corrected differently. Here is a perfect example.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">How this scene starts:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOSXpqF5ntQPvkJsBxVLyXhHKIqNHKVa_YDZ2xFcSmprZ-ln5Iin_HHuEq2VLZStbztPpbfRGJ0xndgSouGEv6mlYiihVNlBZ0O-t44Spk1aUnh8jZPOeMBRjfdNxivvdpprRiHqPhIs/s1280/ugly8.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="723" data-original-width="1280" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOSXpqF5ntQPvkJsBxVLyXhHKIqNHKVa_YDZ2xFcSmprZ-ln5Iin_HHuEq2VLZStbztPpbfRGJ0xndgSouGEv6mlYiihVNlBZ0O-t44Spk1aUnh8jZPOeMBRjfdNxivvdpprRiHqPhIs/w640-h362/ugly8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: large;">How it looks a minute later:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbay_3Ag70AyhhWGkElEyFwZdIZrtS8GbOwx3JNNqT11_03wWAQDF6R5TatMLS3QSDasxOyZ5YQusFrXQwOdv3kmtqD6pmNCPTU5wpZCn3ooXGZSVMeziN-S1hAtGi7hJ8Nr4t70WS3E4/s1280/ugly9.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="723" data-original-width="1280" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbay_3Ag70AyhhWGkElEyFwZdIZrtS8GbOwx3JNNqT11_03wWAQDF6R5TatMLS3QSDasxOyZ5YQusFrXQwOdv3kmtqD6pmNCPTU5wpZCn3ooXGZSVMeziN-S1hAtGi7hJ8Nr4t70WS3E4/w640-h362/ugly9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>I honestly can’t tell if this is intentional or not, especially since Mento’s company is called Ocular Migraine Productions. “So yeah, mission accomplished!” says Tom.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrjvSW_-niRO6PnL7LbYFsQyJUWm4Cv3ZGVQEz7qOQu4Rrsnw_DdpCc817ujS9PHODmzCcS3qZcByzgN2bBDyvW1YIuUOpD5LBHK9bCsK9l-j_m4qUDDSxyZvIAw_9tMOkJcNbPk5e51g/s1280/ugly10.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrjvSW_-niRO6PnL7LbYFsQyJUWm4Cv3ZGVQEz7qOQu4Rrsnw_DdpCc817ujS9PHODmzCcS3qZcByzgN2bBDyvW1YIuUOpD5LBHK9bCsK9l-j_m4qUDDSxyZvIAw_9tMOkJcNbPk5e51g/w400-h225/ugly10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>This special kind of chaos lends itself to the scripting as well. The whole thing is chaotic and unfocused and I suspect Mento was going for an over-the-top Troma feel. For example, a big thing in the finale is how the leads get ahold of a laser gun to free the possessed Cliff by blasting him in the balls (again, it’s that kinda film). So how does this weapon get there? In the most un-organic way possible as Mento includes a disgruntled groundskeeper who builds it to get his revenge and drive miles to the camp. Oh, did I forget to mention this allows for a building montage where he constructs the device while the ghosts of a death metal band (the deliciously named Omicida) play in the background. You couldn’t work this character and plot device into the camp area and instead went for a “screech my film to a halt” approach? And how on God’s green Earth do you have a scene where Felissa Rose of SLEEPAWAY CAMP (1983) fame is flashed a penis and she doesn’t crack a joke? Like they should have had that shot and then cut to a close up of her saying, "Man, I haven't seen one like that since I was at sleepaway camp as a kid." How do you miss a dick joke that is so...ahem...firmly in your grasp?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeTigltxDt9tspDKE4u4oeyPsNsoji691bqZDjOxcvi0y24zy03Zpm76CZ7rRqv7DTpgNacKpWAmu5zQ4CZ7FsJCVroAnu3wx91d4DVQVNUIWgk87-UzVFIqwMFSp1uk-PPWGHbDYZjX8/s1280/ugly7.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="1280" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeTigltxDt9tspDKE4u4oeyPsNsoji691bqZDjOxcvi0y24zy03Zpm76CZ7rRqv7DTpgNacKpWAmu5zQ4CZ7FsJCVroAnu3wx91d4DVQVNUIWgk87-UzVFIqwMFSp1uk-PPWGHbDYZjX8/w640-h358/ugly7.jpg" width="640" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz0kRHpCa91ei9lY9-DOjjZyqqn2L6ZtZVuJNSr_ul7YNynxeWuR_LidxU-f_y2Ssb_3K9zpwkw3TEIAHG9GnUrmwSfXvXKmoeepztIV5AAIo1rxQ43-ePDR3X16y_UHWyhkrDpcXnXwM/s1280/ugly11.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="817" data-original-width="1280" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz0kRHpCa91ei9lY9-DOjjZyqqn2L6ZtZVuJNSr_ul7YNynxeWuR_LidxU-f_y2Ssb_3K9zpwkw3TEIAHG9GnUrmwSfXvXKmoeepztIV5AAIo1rxQ43-ePDR3X16y_UHWyhkrDpcXnXwM/w400-h255/ugly11.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">As I said, the reason all of this hurts is because there is the germ of a fantastic film in here. In addition, several of the cast members are good. Charles Chudabala has some great comedic timing as lead Cliff, Lara Jean Mummert is good as the sardonic goth chick, and Marv Blauvelt is amusing as the more-than-bi-curious Mr. Mandix. There are even some genuinely funny lines in there, like when Cliff shows up covered in blood after killing Mrs. Mandix and her husband screams, “Oh, dear God! Is that my wife’s blood?” But all of the good stuff is essentially lost in a sea of sloppy filmmaking and juvenile overflowing dick jokes. Haha, he said overflowing dick jokes.</div></div>Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-46677897412438258842020-12-04T08:00:00.008-08:002022-12-25T12:59:50.428-08:00December to Dismember: KILLER CHRISTMAS (2017)<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0A6Urc1MQl4jj5AReBX7baMiiGRIX83FgE4u_3zY1mXx_km0_wnrB6k5yNbc-BYk_lUnU-7DwIMQpPkssGRsw8-zhYjjrovnH1764Jd8om3Nj7T3Qc2y_YHcDmwntsA_urh7NR2S-dc/s2048/killerchristmas_vod.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1349" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0A6Urc1MQl4jj5AReBX7baMiiGRIX83FgE4u_3zY1mXx_km0_wnrB6k5yNbc-BYk_lUnU-7DwIMQpPkssGRsw8-zhYjjrovnH1764Jd8om3Nj7T3Qc2y_YHcDmwntsA_urh7NR2S-dc/w264-h400/killerchristmas_vod.jpg" width="264" /></a> Christmas means different things to different people. Even if they don't celebrate Christmas for whatever reason, there is still some sort of celebratory event in their lives, even if that consists of a bottle of vodka and a pack of razor blades. Here at the virtual VJHQ, this traditional event is an endurance test. As if 2020 hasn't been enough of one, we push the limits of cinematic suffering with a buffet of rotten Christmas horror movies. To be sure, we are really more gullible than Tiny Tim, thinking that maybe, possibly, perhaps, this year we will will get a Christmas goose, but usually end up with a goose egg. No more is this apparent than this year's second entry, which isn't so much a goose egg, as at least with a goose egg, you can make breakfast. This sloppy, careless, brainless, utter waste of time does nothing but kick the crutches out from under our crippled legs.</p><p></p><p>The suffering the viewer is about to endure is telegraphed by the unnecessarily padded opening sequence in which we find a waitress taking orders in a cafe. After standing around talking to the guy who appears to be the manager or owner for a while (because, fuck the customers), we discover she is excited about Christmas and is taking a six week vacation to be with her family. Raise your hand if you've fantasized about spending six weeks of your adult life with your parents and siblings during the holidays. Yeah, nobody's that crazy. All of this leads up to a lengthy jogging sequence (yes, after waiting on tables all day, she decides to go running at night), during which some random dude that we can't see, flashes a knife, chases her for a bit, grabs her and makes a stabbing motion and drags her off. To somewhere. For some reason.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujtE5ZCfiX1e3M1duLSAi3sq7vWnhQvWAy-4asvAbNh2_rjbxOUoTU1Bptb29MOCimjEMxpm5hf6tVRz_O7_UM4kW89ffKhi00kBSQ_ldrmgSTXdwyGQJXeQMt9-ILnEU6YEUf0O-xlc/s1493/killerchristmas_08b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="1493" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujtE5ZCfiX1e3M1duLSAi3sq7vWnhQvWAy-4asvAbNh2_rjbxOUoTU1Bptb29MOCimjEMxpm5hf6tVRz_O7_UM4kW89ffKhi00kBSQ_ldrmgSTXdwyGQJXeQMt9-ILnEU6YEUf0O-xlc/w400-h254/killerchristmas_08b.png" width="400" /></a></div>Cut to a Christmas tree farm that is located next to an abandoned hotel. A group of uber-douchey 20-somethings arrive and like typical douchebags, they stand around yelling "fuck" as loud as possible, so that people will notice how cool they are. Actual line: "Let's go chop down some fuckin' trees! Yeaaaaah! Woooo!" I would accept it as the best Christmas gift ever if these idiots were just killed right now and I was spared another 80 minutes of this cheese-grater garbage.<p></p><p>The tree sales guy (co-writer/co-director/co-producer, PeterPaul Shaker) isn't really a Crazy Ralph, so much as a Cranky Ralph, warns these morons not to go to the abandoned hotel. Why? Just because. Strangely he looks just like one of the chuckleheads in the group, Robbie who is played by the other co-writer/co-director/co-producer, Tony Shaker. No mention is made of this similarity in appearance and it doesn't factor into the movie at all. Two separate characters who just happen to look like they share 90% of their genetic material. This is confusing at first, but once you realize that the movie has absolutely nothing to offer, you'll get over it.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58eQ9GMdq89P6jKIy-bzZ8Fm_o9D9oX2j2srCMHnkfxjejxWDD8E6HJRGpp2Y3zcMnDnDhAMts_LR-qWpqId9G2IYFlsIT83LD5EHlhLPqnZtzK4NIbs6MBn23RlJSLvh5XWiaB3AMT8/s1493/killerchristmas_02.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="1493" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg58eQ9GMdq89P6jKIy-bzZ8Fm_o9D9oX2j2srCMHnkfxjejxWDD8E6HJRGpp2Y3zcMnDnDhAMts_LR-qWpqId9G2IYFlsIT83LD5EHlhLPqnZtzK4NIbs6MBn23RlJSLvh5XWiaB3AMT8/w400-h225/killerchristmas_02.png" width="400" /></a></div>The Brah Crew goes to great lengths to tell the audience that they like to play head games and sex games and this is initiated by one of them yelling "game on!" While they made a decision to totally go check out the creepy hotel, they are going to pair off and "play a game" first. Basically they shout "frolic" and disappear from camera, only to come back looking exactly the same as they did before and imply that they just had sex. And they have to spend some time talking trash, smoking weed (which does nothing to them except make them cough) and drinking from a flask that never seems to run out. Weren't we supposed to be doing something here? Oh yeah, padding the movie out by 12 minutes.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYexWZEUXPVa-yuCriXHn1B5o2hZfrev5HSUUY7hdysgBJTVUEO7V93omhEejoRFt2PEulZL8kZJeOgX8URUZeQGQ6oOk5SL3foXbl7rbHtLqhDrFG9q4D2QnsZQr897XqClhOs_G3Y20/s1493/killerchristmas_03b.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="1493" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYexWZEUXPVa-yuCriXHn1B5o2hZfrev5HSUUY7hdysgBJTVUEO7V93omhEejoRFt2PEulZL8kZJeOgX8URUZeQGQ6oOk5SL3foXbl7rbHtLqhDrFG9q4D2QnsZQr897XqClhOs_G3Y20/w400-h254/killerchristmas_03b.png" width="400" /></a></div>After finally cutting down some trees, with more whoops than an underground rave, (we are now 20 minutes in) they finally start talking about "what sort of fucked up shit's in there". Yes, we may actually get to the main point of the movie. Maybe. It literally takes them 8 minutes and 8 seconds of walking around the building shouting "fuck!" and "it's creeeepy!" and "there could be hobos in there!" and "eeeww!" One of the girls, Margo (Freya Lund), speculates on how cool it would be to get two "hobos" to fight each other and livestream it. Hell man, if someone doesn't start bumping these over-privileged ass-nuggets off sharpish, I'll kill the little fuckers myself.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIYy7ksoqOEiq-8bxcjklzX-zUpqaidzdbuwJZ6dmT_iYLdLK1Hx89Avnosua_tQFJ9eTFw5sU9FboxmXKEo1Ma5xEBzwduKzdYSz6KZcl3RNVzoPimO7pXieyHM4LyKHh3rWpysuBBcA/s1493/killerchristmas_04b.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="1493" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIYy7ksoqOEiq-8bxcjklzX-zUpqaidzdbuwJZ6dmT_iYLdLK1Hx89Avnosua_tQFJ9eTFw5sU9FboxmXKEo1Ma5xEBzwduKzdYSz6KZcl3RNVzoPimO7pXieyHM4LyKHh3rWpysuBBcA/s320/killerchristmas_04b.png" width="320" /></a></div>Once inside, we get a shout of "game on bitches!" and they decide to play hide and seek. Could this possibly get any more boring? Oh yes. Yes, it could, and will. It could and will also be more irritating with Margo opening her brainless yap and giving us lines that would make Tom Stoppard weep, like "it looks like homeless people shit all over here!" Of course the other nimrods aren't any more eloquent; self-proclaimed leader and alpha dog Cutler (Matt Maretz) shouts "I wonder if people fucked in these rooms?" This is accompanied by more shots of these jabbering dillholes wandering around, admiring the spray-painted graffiti (Margo is particularly excited about a crudely drawn ejaculating penis) and various characters shouting "game on!" after which nothing happens.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgJ3QNOVzr_Q0FDVVxLaKqHSekKVDzw4dUpqDbwqdE5ZETSGHvTojm7XmhvrUHOa8vuJcB8tqWqO9NnxZPt02Mw0ctD55QS8L91QT8-Zk4Oed3E2ySNiNnLOSPXmHfCBQMOVkUL2_5wo/s1718/killerchristmas_09.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1718" data-original-width="1496" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgJ3QNOVzr_Q0FDVVxLaKqHSekKVDzw4dUpqDbwqdE5ZETSGHvTojm7XmhvrUHOa8vuJcB8tqWqO9NnxZPt02Mw0ctD55QS8L91QT8-Zk4Oed3E2ySNiNnLOSPXmHfCBQMOVkUL2_5wo/w349-h400/killerchristmas_09.png" width="349" /></a></div>Finally after 45 minutes of pointless bullshit, we Cutler (I swear that's not a typo) and his incessantly bitchy girlfriend Bella (Kourtney Kelly), stumble across a room that has "this is the death room" badly spray painted on one of the walls, which causes Bella to shriek "this is creepy!" At the same time, Kate (Natalie Pavelek) finds a couple of cans with spoons in them (gasp!), and Margo finds a room with a girl chained to a bed, who has her vocal cords cut (though it takes some dialogue from later in the movie to realize this). This girl just happens to be... our waitress from the opening sequence! And here I thought they were just padding things out. I got the Shaker brothers all wrong. Margo's reaction to this is to free the waitress from her restraints and... oh, sorry, no, Margo just dances in place, screaming for a while. Long enough, in fact, for everyone in the hotel to hear her. Except for the Santa-masked killer, who finally makes his entrance to CGI stab Cutler with what I think is a machete. Low-light video photography and lousy camera work make it difficult to even tell. Bella screams and screams again, but for some reason, no one can hear her (presumably due to the dark power of The Death Room). Kate, still grappling with the horrors that she has witnessed, tells token Black dude Art (Malcolm Xavier), "there's definitely someone living here, I saw open cans of fresh food in the kitchen!" to which Art replies, "that's fucked!" Is it? Ok, if you say so. Also, aren't canned foods, by definition, not fresh?</div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUftSkLN1Gu_hyNT5vHF6gF5Xu8hmauuVK_PmtIJeNPzXj2f5xQdyVP3MZ1_I69AdwX2miWVJPFk142anBoV_sfCrTy-DKK8pqWR3iAhx-U5kss9VnFKaLZv_4ZfpwfPe7txyx_2BAk4/s1493/killerchristmas_06.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="1493" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUftSkLN1Gu_hyNT5vHF6gF5Xu8hmauuVK_PmtIJeNPzXj2f5xQdyVP3MZ1_I69AdwX2miWVJPFk142anBoV_sfCrTy-DKK8pqWR3iAhx-U5kss9VnFKaLZv_4ZfpwfPe7txyx_2BAk4/w400-h225/killerchristmas_06.png" width="400" /></a></div>At this point it is literally an orgy of wandering aimlessly, screaming over nothing, and running (while screaming) from something. At one point, the girls hide in a room. Our Santa killer, always the gentleman, instead of smashing the door in and wasting these entitled asshats, stands outside banging on the door like a drunk who lost his keys to his girlfriend's apartment. He stands there, banging away, for so long that the other relentless yobs actually follow the sound only to get to the room and find that Santa gave up and left.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qP3j-xLmjaa3iFluMbQfR6npab19Iojqdko1gyQzYTg3_Ralz55AllGqp_gFHBmFv0vlm3-1B6HWztuevs7y_eDvDv88RvyC7RypHFTvZdncZpc-YFbiw6r2ePxi1Keijoqldn1QzUM/s1493/killerchristmas_07.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="1493" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qP3j-xLmjaa3iFluMbQfR6npab19Iojqdko1gyQzYTg3_Ralz55AllGqp_gFHBmFv0vlm3-1B6HWztuevs7y_eDvDv88RvyC7RypHFTvZdncZpc-YFbiw6r2ePxi1Keijoqldn1QzUM/w400-h225/killerchristmas_07.png" width="400" /></a></div>[<b>Spoilers ahead</b> - not that you should care] After much more running and screaming, the Santa killer manages to kill off the group in mostly bloodless ways. When we do get a tiny bit of blood, the few times we see anything, it appears to have been done in MS paint. This is literally the most expensive part of this movie, outside of the $25 Santa mask. Earlier we had seen Art get killed by simply disappearing in a doorway and screaming. There is a lot of screaming in this movie. Screaming is cheap. If your brain hasn't been completely pounded into Christmas pudding by now, you may start thinking it's odd that we don't see Art's death, then again you may also think it's just the Shaker brothers being cheap. You'd be right on both counts. As it turns out, after many overt "hints" that are about as subtle as the freaking Hindenberg, Art is revealed to be the killer. Why? Because "I told you [Bella] I loved you and you threw it back in my face!" I think it's pretty obvious that this movie didn't need to feel encumbered by a script. But who chained that waitress to the bed? The tree salesman, of course! Yep, he shows up to kill Art and drag Bella off to be chained up in a bed in the same way. The end. [<b>End spoilers</b>]<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoO_sm54wLv582dXUO44s_ooZ-Q4WcMPS3kBpfFgbzoC3GKCPi00rKj-u_u5zcCiEUGVa9re37pTGQxiKkaId6qG7CMsASOkyqd7rNSF_MyoP0DAG2dcsrHI3O9AnX3EBzTO-Fon9qbE/s1493/killerchristmas_10.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="1493" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoO_sm54wLv582dXUO44s_ooZ-Q4WcMPS3kBpfFgbzoC3GKCPi00rKj-u_u5zcCiEUGVa9re37pTGQxiKkaId6qG7CMsASOkyqd7rNSF_MyoP0DAG2dcsrHI3O9AnX3EBzTO-Fon9qbE/w400-h254/killerchristmas_10.png" width="400" /></a></div>The hotel that these suburban subhumans are allegedly exploring is the famous Adler Hotel and Spa in Sharon Springs, New York. The hotel itself has a long illustrious history until it was abandoned in 2004. Since this movie's budget extends about as far as buying a mask and a few cans of spray paint, only the exterior is briefly used in almost complete darkness. In the hands of real filmmakers, the pre-modern interior of the hotel would be a sublimely creepy setting for something along the lines of THE SHINING (1980) and THE SENTINEL (1977), but even though we can't expect anything remotely close to that from an amateur VOD effort, what we get appears to be a dorm that has been graffitied by people who were not majoring in art.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijz967_McaO0t75eHDOsD9nkF1Q0x4JsNuG2gmWrG3vu3Dczil97F7oGeD8UW31mGx_9Hh0EmWW7GdNHPfnPBh9kDJDEltUImdxJZzhq6EFjGl32R1ZSQspiH0lGc8QXyFzoef3-3G9Y8/s827/killerchristmas_11.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="827" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijz967_McaO0t75eHDOsD9nkF1Q0x4JsNuG2gmWrG3vu3Dczil97F7oGeD8UW31mGx_9Hh0EmWW7GdNHPfnPBh9kDJDEltUImdxJZzhq6EFjGl32R1ZSQspiH0lGc8QXyFzoef3-3G9Y8/w400-h209/killerchristmas_11.png" width="400" /></a></div>If you thought the title lacked creativity, wait till you see the movie. Not even the smallest effort is made to craft anything with any sort of substance, skill or thought. And why should they bother? It's not like they are paying for filmstock. It's not like they have to sell it to distributors. You can put anything on VOD and reel in suckers for an easy buck. On top of that, when everyone writes scathing one star reviews on Amazon, you can just get your friends to make dummy accounts and give yourself some five star reviews and say things like "Kourtey Kelly is a rising star." It must be her mom, I don't think even her boyfriend could lie that hard.<p></p><p>This is quite possibly the worst excuse for a Christmas horror movie I've seen yet, and if you have seen the other movies we've talked about over the years, that really is an amazing achievement. Shot with what appears to be a hand-held iPhone, with almost zero production values, what appears to be adlibbed dialogue, no real plot, non-actors who cannot even be bothered to act inebriated, absolutely insufferable "characters" and a literally non-stop soundtrack of whispered Christmas carols, this feckless, anemic, half-assed excuse for a movie makes THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT (1999) look like SUSPIRIA (1977). There is a reason it's only available on VOD, nobody is going to waste physical media for a production run.</p></div></div>Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-88919814670350360112020-12-01T07:00:00.017-08:002022-12-25T13:05:48.423-08:00December to Dismember: AXEMAS (2017) / AXEMAS 2: BLOOD SLAY (2018)<p><i style="text-align: center;"><span></span></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="text-align: center;"><span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmhcED7Ob5cUmZxIwTSZUwQhWsZhHJT46BbaZHLdWEXwk22Yn7fd_FSiNgoc7g_SPp4K-iYiItm_41KT7pcxV0vzDjAXba-B44lXfPdHz3RsEZQwSJ1d0wOT7nb7W9krU8TLWqL42L9r3QcpZqr-2xj3RLlvGlSY6ofejs9J4_ZDdqERPnyNeBudmv/s1067/axemas1.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="695" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmhcED7Ob5cUmZxIwTSZUwQhWsZhHJT46BbaZHLdWEXwk22Yn7fd_FSiNgoc7g_SPp4K-iYiItm_41KT7pcxV0vzDjAXba-B44lXfPdHz3RsEZQwSJ1d0wOT7nb7W9krU8TLWqL42L9r3QcpZqr-2xj3RLlvGlSY6ofejs9J4_ZDdqERPnyNeBudmv/s320/axemas1.png" width="208" /></a></span></i></div><i style="text-align: center;"><span><div style="text-align: left;"><i style="text-align: center;"><span><i style="text-align: left;">[by William S. Wilson]</i></span></i></div><div><i style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></i></div>Deck the video aisles with films of folly </span></i><i style="text-align: center;"><span>Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la </span></i><i style="text-align: center;"><span>'Tis the season to be… </span></i><p></p><div>Oh man, it definitely ain’t the season to be jolly. I’m sure we can all agree that 2020 has been an absolutely brutal year. And what better way to continue the suffering than to do our 8th year of coverage of bad Christmas horror movies? Turns out the world may have ground to a halt, but terrible Xmas films will keep on acomin’ to our TV sets. Seriously, if you are reading this, we hope you and those close to you are doing well. And we hope that our tiny series of self flagellations offer a small respite from the horrors of the real world. And what better way to start than a film series called AXEMAS? The two-film series actually came onto our radar last year, but we had commitment issues with buying them. Things changed this year thanks to the tubular power of TubiTV and we decided to get our AXEMAS on. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQEjLG9Ke80q1Bq8l141M-l1shb7ax4hZbVeqCuVk7DSKimAEaIcO5dmpitkP5S0bsK0WcVvihfwmBPyIn8lsv5hFCt6Lt6CHfJ9uPzMVt-KSFtu-aHgDXc9AnEWpKgR5zBi8ohn_NCA4/s1280/axemas3.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQEjLG9Ke80q1Bq8l141M-l1shb7ax4hZbVeqCuVk7DSKimAEaIcO5dmpitkP5S0bsK0WcVvihfwmBPyIn8lsv5hFCt6Lt6CHfJ9uPzMVt-KSFtu-aHgDXc9AnEWpKgR5zBi8ohn_NCA4/w400-h225/axemas3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The first film opens with a burglar cutting his way into a unit at Chapman Storage. He hears a sound and immediately says, “It’s my spot tonight. Come back later.” Damn, I had no idea thieves had such a strong code of work ethics. Unfortunately for him, this isn’t a fellow thief but an axe-wielding guy in a Santa Claus suit. He gets butchered (offscreen, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgAGADq7-hdDiF3g1KKdv44Hdf9SCxEPjJZtbacosBDGzZhJcmTH3wQIB5NyoK__YALmSFqNlcvwMO2TNlepeqMJM9W6nxn0SQKTanOTu_Az-aD2hNV4XGrAaIeNaF_zCwx9RT9CzN6w/s1280/axemas8.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="1280" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgAGADq7-hdDiF3g1KKdv44Hdf9SCxEPjJZtbacosBDGzZhJcmTH3wQIB5NyoK__YALmSFqNlcvwMO2TNlepeqMJM9W6nxn0SQKTanOTu_Az-aD2hNV4XGrAaIeNaF_zCwx9RT9CzN6w/w400-h272/axemas8.jpg" width="400" /></a>naturally). Cut to David (Dillon Weishuhn, gesundheit!) as he wraps up his shift at the storage facility. Imbued with the holiday spirit, he has invited five friends to come party with him in the locked-down facility from 11pm until 5am. Yes, nothing says fun like hanging out in a cold building with metal walls and concrete floors. Showing up for the festivities are David’s girlfriend Sarah (Ashley Campbell), Chuck (Nathan Scott) and Liz (Lindsey Cruz), and Lee (Mikey O’Brien) and Linnea (Kamiko Kawada). You know these guys are serious partiers as they brought beer and sleeping bags. When they get into the building, Liz comments how it is “not very Christmas-y.” You sure her name isn’t Karen? </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnRHmrp6-QDhg3KAIPA5umDzndjCigfbIC7X-4o0TK3PICmXaS0ikfBRoV0rDwikjCtxJebmUsmmLYBDb-0vLZsht5mGP4iZuGx0wgNCbvPCDt80VuqdpWTasonz_1vgQ4Xg5tti6Tss/s1280/axemas4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="872" data-original-width="1280" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnRHmrp6-QDhg3KAIPA5umDzndjCigfbIC7X-4o0TK3PICmXaS0ikfBRoV0rDwikjCtxJebmUsmmLYBDb-0vLZsht5mGP4iZuGx0wgNCbvPCDt80VuqdpWTasonz_1vgQ4Xg5tti6Tss/w640-h436/axemas4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSilCDh1eaJvyYog87xkzPAR6l_8jwTpyFpVSQ4-FUqCRpoWrynGPDH2xcBUvR1tXYQm81VIBEo_I2GeLT7EaQxcCmcOASX8AuIJBQdFW2HSpmxKa9SEHuneP4AWwjdxrzlurGR_oJGtY/s1280/axemas5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSilCDh1eaJvyYog87xkzPAR6l_8jwTpyFpVSQ4-FUqCRpoWrynGPDH2xcBUvR1tXYQm81VIBEo_I2GeLT7EaQxcCmcOASX8AuIJBQdFW2HSpmxKa9SEHuneP4AWwjdxrzlurGR_oJGtY/w400-h225/axemas5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Unfortunately for them, the deranged Santa (John Seymore) is holed up in his storage unit that is overflowing with Christmas decorations and he doesn’t take kindly to strangers. Wait...why is this dude here? Believe it or not, we’ll have an answer to that in a bit. Per horror movie law, the first to go are the black couple Chuck and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFVuod443ZCmxgCwpZQ3t9Yqt97ckZ-wSGbmdRFPnIntQiwGQodTfX9lP89kvBSxZq06nYGHCyR4cuJkxcPB4gTGKVZqK6PORUxm2TklajW06l3qA2QeMZR8GqrBNAaIxXcy0zh6dJ3pY/s1280/axemas7.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="1280" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFVuod443ZCmxgCwpZQ3t9Yqt97ckZ-wSGbmdRFPnIntQiwGQodTfX9lP89kvBSxZq06nYGHCyR4cuJkxcPB4gTGKVZqK6PORUxm2TklajW06l3qA2QeMZR8GqrBNAaIxXcy0zh6dJ3pY/w400-h254/axemas7.jpg" width="400" /></a>Liz as he gets an axe to the head (Santa: “I forgot to say head’s up!”) and she gets smashed with a big rock used for holding doors open (Santa: “Wanna get stoned?”). The others hear the commotion and assume it is wild sex. Naturally, Lee and Linnea go to investigate and simultaneously get run through with a pipe (Santa: “Welcome to the North Pole.”). Now I am not a lawyer, but I’m pretty sure those puns are a crime against humanity and punishable by death. This leaves David and Sarah and she soon finds out why this killer Kris Kringle is prancing about. <span style="color: red;"><b>SPOILERS FOR AXEMAS TWIST</b></span> Turns out this guy is named Nick and is David’s brother. Apparently the Christmas-obsessed brothers do this every year. <span style="color: red;"><b>END SPOILERS</b></span> Sarah is now our final girl as she runs through the maze-like storage facility. At one point she stops to scream, “Why? Why are you doing this?” Weird, I asked myself the same thing. It all wraps up very quickly as Nick kills David in a fit of jealous rage and then Sarah decapitates Nick and says, “Merry fuckin’ axemas!” The end! Now we move on to...</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiplW5Epc9wbwDCD1viFslMzniOKleU8iR8gwCxHrtL59S5Ic4BJ7UnYbdScFFgqHl43zD546y9suR4NIwsG8t6ab-gmYPtOv96ldCd9Qs0meeze6TcdvPjrdy2f0s3fgIbDUGk77JmWkg/s869/axemas2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="695" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiplW5Epc9wbwDCD1viFslMzniOKleU8iR8gwCxHrtL59S5Ic4BJ7UnYbdScFFgqHl43zD546y9suR4NIwsG8t6ab-gmYPtOv96ldCd9Qs0meeze6TcdvPjrdy2f0s3fgIbDUGk77JmWkg/w320-h400/axemas2.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="text-align: center;">Like all good horror sequels, AXEMAS 2 picks up a year later. Unlike most sequels, it opens with an angry dad throwing away a Christmas tree in a rage. He gets grabbed by a new killer Santa and we get perhaps my favorite dialogue I’ve heard in 2020. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Man: <i>“What the fuck? Get the fuck off me, mutherfucker!”</i> </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Santa: <i>“Every kid deserves Christmas!”</i> </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Man: <i>“Not my kids. They’re little shits.” </i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Santa: <i>“And whose fault is that?” </i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Man: <i>“Ask my ex-wife!” </i></span></div><div><br /></div><div>I seriously love how this guy went from “get the fuck off me” to bashing his ex in like three seconds. Dude has more issues than a magazine stand. Anyway, for his trouble he gets impaled on the very Christmas tree he was throwing away while Santa mutters a line about him getting the point. Yup, this is an AXEMAS film alright. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjt1gRv7inxWjiOA7QGrFqNsKMlA2rF9In4atiyYeQYW2peIyDTFIccNizJIiXAlcirbuHx6Ap9R7RIgJHJ6aDJ_gPciWqDl1t_B7oA_AWjV_d16Y3J2_OK1K8eIMapAabKIAqKXTOl4s/s1280/axemas9.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjt1gRv7inxWjiOA7QGrFqNsKMlA2rF9In4atiyYeQYW2peIyDTFIccNizJIiXAlcirbuHx6Ap9R7RIgJHJ6aDJ_gPciWqDl1t_B7oA_AWjV_d16Y3J2_OK1K8eIMapAabKIAqKXTOl4s/w640-h360/axemas9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxufQfKMuDg3ItYtvmdm0UlGi46EDyvjj7LtYXXKu31E9VvXhpFN6RqIzTZV0aXWNlrHZqxzY2vChrIFTX30jwsNeahgOZm33ljdV5g57EFC-Oh9-OoHoWIOLWuqL5am1ZVWArqYfCek0/s1280/axemas10.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxufQfKMuDg3ItYtvmdm0UlGi46EDyvjj7LtYXXKu31E9VvXhpFN6RqIzTZV0aXWNlrHZqxzY2vChrIFTX30jwsNeahgOZm33ljdV5g57EFC-Oh9-OoHoWIOLWuqL5am1ZVWArqYfCek0/w400-h225/axemas10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>We pick up the film proper with Sarah suffering PTSD (Post Traumatic Santa Disorder) from the aftermath of the massacre. Turns out the bodies of David and Nick went missing and the cops considered Sarah the main suspect but didn’t charge her due to lack of evidence. To make matters worse, Sarah is having visions of a ghost David from time to time. She confides this in her friend Laura (Donna Hamblin), who offers some sage advice on how to get her life back together. Medication? Therapy? Nope! Re-entering the dating scene. Even Sarah realizes how silly this is by saying, “I really don’t want to meet another psycho.” Psychos in the dating scene? Pshaw! Understandably, she is afraid of the same thing happening again and uses the DIE HARD film series as proof. Seriously! She relents to Laura’s wishes and opts to go meet a nice guy in a bookstore. Now here is a moment where I legit died because they cut to this shot… </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVVNGXKjoDvSl4Gtx95aZ-MMlpif_pg2-WNPNe6ESJc-dyJmbYXUJ9hUCtFNTrzlvgXZS2JBrc24KFvZf4hpPv5xWkV9_uiUhCfQyGKDHC888k3BHj_Npb30QveReLWJILUlxiB6ztX7k/s1280/axemas11.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVVNGXKjoDvSl4Gtx95aZ-MMlpif_pg2-WNPNe6ESJc-dyJmbYXUJ9hUCtFNTrzlvgXZS2JBrc24KFvZf4hpPv5xWkV9_uiUhCfQyGKDHC888k3BHj_Npb30QveReLWJILUlxiB6ztX7k/w640-h360/axemas11.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vMIwTkavQXIVDhx-B1PpCKZ6VOPZiKC3K5OUS4avAkb8bgOaAVMjFSdUZ8SWvByhvobM8urEWi41jX59DurmZrZ2Px6lvBajeE9PUHWCh-iBzKWD68w_gdNVGcylJe71jn0tjAXdGJQ/s1280/axemas17.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="871" data-original-width="1280" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_vMIwTkavQXIVDhx-B1PpCKZ6VOPZiKC3K5OUS4avAkb8bgOaAVMjFSdUZ8SWvByhvobM8urEWi41jX59DurmZrZ2Px6lvBajeE9PUHWCh-iBzKWD68w_gdNVGcylJe71jn0tjAXdGJQ/w400-h272/axemas17.jpg" width="400" /></a><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm pretty sure the only guy she is going to run into there is Tom looking for cheap Guy N. Smith novels. HA! She literally runs into Eric (Ben Stobber) and despite the huge red flag of him buying A Christmas Carol, she agrees to go out to dinner with him. Talking about the chance encounter later with Laura, Sarah says, “It feels like I’ve known him forever.” At dinner Eric reveals he recognized her from news reports and that she is a strong woman. This sentiment is powerful enough for her to request to go back to his place. WAITER, CHECK PLEASE! Man, I’m starting to think the scariest thing about these films is Sarah’s choices regarding the men in her life. As Eric mixes some cocktails, Sarah flips through a family photo album and spots David and Nick (dressed in his bloody Santa get up, no less!). Yup, turns out Sarah putting her toe back in the dating pool was a bad idea as Eric is the middle brother. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqDAnWu_JLi54W566bQ7k3msgVxnQYxDtCuzw5J2oXVUXxYoZ8496b3_BiNJt8_NBE0RGeEsqoecO1lIP7dfsD1UU1TIAyHUonR57WZISU4-hDo5RFLC1nTdERugOj2VLx3KMn_4qJg8Q/s1280/axemas12.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="873" data-original-width="1280" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqDAnWu_JLi54W566bQ7k3msgVxnQYxDtCuzw5J2oXVUXxYoZ8496b3_BiNJt8_NBE0RGeEsqoecO1lIP7dfsD1UU1TIAyHUonR57WZISU4-hDo5RFLC1nTdERugOj2VLx3KMn_4qJg8Q/w640-h436/axemas12.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4tzA_WlHi8wIWY50gUfaaag0gJL16CU4wkzW0WvsHu6TzAbzGXYd2opRtxGnjYi3wiiXsNkk83YmSOp_psDmLxf027BAqC9o_GjAALSQnjuu44lB_DpL8-e8VhnSh5cjmE6sFDEj66YI/s1280/axemas13.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="717" data-original-width="1280" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4tzA_WlHi8wIWY50gUfaaag0gJL16CU4wkzW0WvsHu6TzAbzGXYd2opRtxGnjYi3wiiXsNkk83YmSOp_psDmLxf027BAqC9o_GjAALSQnjuu44lB_DpL8-e8VhnSh5cjmE6sFDEj66YI/w400-h224/axemas13.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Eric knocks Sarah out and drives her to - where else? - the storage facility. There he meets up with the new deranged Santa, who is his uncle Kris (Drew Marvick). “Really,” Sarah says sacastically. While Kris goes to retrieve some gasoline, Eric delights in telling Sarah how he is going <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0hQm5yYBNjs11N2UePISg3RZATuJ0ZrQ7NCqts_PFsai1XflnhGD37rxAvXLYkRGWDSGseNRKO9T82OdC3X4F7gwvgXQ1-RQH4LccO8Ba7JZ12qxPf6DOH032dsk4GtcTvlu1wFFNK1A/s1280/axemas16.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="711" data-original-width="1280" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0hQm5yYBNjs11N2UePISg3RZATuJ0ZrQ7NCqts_PFsai1XflnhGD37rxAvXLYkRGWDSGseNRKO9T82OdC3X4F7gwvgXQ1-RQH4LccO8Ba7JZ12qxPf6DOH032dsk4GtcTvlu1wFFNK1A/w400-h223/axemas16.jpg" width="400" /></a>to kill her for his brothers but suddenly gets a crowbar to the brain from a random girl. This results in my favorite line of the series as Sarah says, “Thank you. Who are you?” Turns out she is homeless Tara (Tommie Vegas) and she is living in a unit with her boyfriend James (Nicholas Jackman). Kris discovers his dead nephew and, like everyone else in his bloodline, goes into a revenge rage. He quickly kills James and Tara, leaving Sarah to once again run through the maze-like storage facility. “How can the same thing happen to the same girl twice?” cries Sarah in a nod to DIE HARD 2 (1990). Funny, I was thinking the same thing about myself watching these back-to-back. Now a grizzled vet in final girl status, Sarah gets her axemas on to confront Kris in a fiery conclusion. The end (again)! </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTlq-y5U-f5yKGceNqcGbGBMQkUZEf3Heh1_Wqu4Phqt4aK6XVK02fYgDW0-6NOrtAWxaqmP9g-8YPaQI4UOJ-Kv7WlrfqPQUGK6qJ2MXvvkZDIwGAWOe6yEWdav7NfQpTqLcVZqAJ4Bk/s1280/axemas15.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="721" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTlq-y5U-f5yKGceNqcGbGBMQkUZEf3Heh1_Wqu4Phqt4aK6XVK02fYgDW0-6NOrtAWxaqmP9g-8YPaQI4UOJ-Kv7WlrfqPQUGK6qJ2MXvvkZDIwGAWOe6yEWdav7NfQpTqLcVZqAJ4Bk/w400-h225/axemas15.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Video Junkie insider info: Originally I was planning to review the recent remake BLACK CHRISTMAS (2019), but I actually quit it before hitting the half hour mark due to its mix of pretentiousness and tediousness. So these super low budget shorts might have received a boost by not being terrible sacks of Christmas coal. Honestly, I had fun with the AXEMAS <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQvI-ZpCgXBgFzPLZfU4fKLOTg3N0TsixcLg8gQoAvPHQL_W8Y2Sk5Hq4khePOWuj1JMBF_rqpeTFtVzf1ZbfsrBYh5UVdzpMYADRGxX_1d-fE_SwKnN7MHr99UZIVAjIYB-V1ON31QA/s1280/axemas14.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcQvI-ZpCgXBgFzPLZfU4fKLOTg3N0TsixcLg8gQoAvPHQL_W8Y2Sk5Hq4khePOWuj1JMBF_rqpeTFtVzf1ZbfsrBYh5UVdzpMYADRGxX_1d-fE_SwKnN7MHr99UZIVAjIYB-V1ON31QA/w400-h225/axemas14.jpg" width="400" /></a>films, but I should caution this enjoyment manifests only after eight years of watching Christmas junk (and I’m a professional by now). The fact that they combined come in under an hour probably helped too. Running 25 and 33 minutes respectively, AXEMAS and AXEMAS 2 are the brainchild of writer-director John Ward and filmed in the wilds of Las Vegas. The first film is the rougher of the two, feeling more like a film a group of friends might make on the weekend. That said, Ward uses the storage unit location well and even attempts to establish some Christmas red-and-green color schemes. However, it is the sequel where things really started to come together for me. In the second go-around, Ward ups the self awareness factor. The aforementioned DIE HARD references establish that early on and the back-and-forth banter between characters is genuinely funny at points. He also ups the production values several notches. Like all low budget horror films, it is a mixed bag acting-wise. Ashley Campbell is good as the lead and really seems to get into the role by the second film. In terms of killer Santas, I liked both John Seymore and Drew Marvick in their respective roles. But I’d have to give the nod to Marvick as he has some great delivery, like when he tells Eric he forgot the gasoline because he wanted to make a dramatic entrance. Also, the man has a killer beard and some of the most enviable hair. Right before he goes up in smoke his character says, “There might be a third.” True enough, Ward and his team are <a href="https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/axemas-3-and-4-filmed-back-to-back-killer-santa"><span style="color: red;">currently crowdfunding for AXEMAS 3 and AXEMAS 4</span></a>. I have a sneaking suspicion where they will go with part 3’s twist (hint: watch for a certain book in part 2). Hell, if they get made they might have a full movie by the end of it. I’m guessing Ward will keep going until he has used every last Christmas pun imaginable. Here’s one for free: You sleigh me!</div>Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-32460969057105350442020-01-03T15:03:00.004-08:002022-12-25T13:17:03.112-08:00December to Dismember (2012-2019)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrV_6hLZWmqqKpn2w3jdJ4qaPvuxYVR1sVGWDi0vHeY-DlDvE7ChOxhKNtO1jMIh2GJ41cZ5SW-8rLkE8v6ZePFR-4ipD3_f9F2VYvJZr50Zs9smIBMIlX4twww5ds3sq0qzGxYOQnLk/s1600/VJ_december2012.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="681" data-original-width="975" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvrV_6hLZWmqqKpn2w3jdJ4qaPvuxYVR1sVGWDi0vHeY-DlDvE7ChOxhKNtO1jMIh2GJ41cZ5SW-8rLkE8v6ZePFR-4ipD3_f9F2VYvJZr50Zs9smIBMIlX4twww5ds3sq0qzGxYOQnLk/s640/VJ_december2012.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Our needlessly cruel, abusive and insulting (to us) round up of Christmas horror films. Some of which are actually kind of good!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVgVBUN90_QmI3XguFiX7T0zIOYCh2wvcH2YNOM3WcNM-5v4l9bOsCSx8aTgOsDl5gW7b4Z7VpsREbohCJLLrP06onFUOxOgilC29GbHyUdlprOhyphenhyphenoDwHc7Er4xyx9UQKEjT65ZuZv4TI/s1600/toallagoodnight_vhs.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="418" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVgVBUN90_QmI3XguFiX7T0zIOYCh2wvcH2YNOM3WcNM-5v4l9bOsCSx8aTgOsDl5gW7b4Z7VpsREbohCJLLrP06onFUOxOgilC29GbHyUdlprOhyphenhyphenoDwHc7Er4xyx9UQKEjT65ZuZv4TI/s200/toallagoodnight_vhs.jpg" width="136" /></a></div>
<a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2012/12/december-to-dismember-to-all-goodnight.html" style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;">TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT (1980)</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGE8SiIxZC4HmJggfRnP7yASjDiAuD3_GhUITdQal2BrkfAVdvaY1ufz1fg5tw6NZmdJxog1nEyCkp_RoLv0SmeJZq6-aKWIJw3kvt_rLshlBJebXO80Gbs5dZLnkOGeQqRTEhfeKZv8/s1600/elves_vhs.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="568" data-original-width="317" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmGE8SiIxZC4HmJggfRnP7yASjDiAuD3_GhUITdQal2BrkfAVdvaY1ufz1fg5tw6NZmdJxog1nEyCkp_RoLv0SmeJZq6-aKWIJw3kvt_rLshlBJebXO80Gbs5dZLnkOGeQqRTEhfeKZv8/s200/elves_vhs.jpg" width="111" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.videojunkie.org/2012/12/december-to-dismember-elves-1989.html" style="font-size: x-large;"></a><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2012/12/december-to-dismember-elves-1989.html">ELVES (1989)</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIamOJxd3_AvOxSpfNrvyj58BeukFtMOC7zjiBoJHvvSMhYR3_u2PVSE3tlK6WpvrhOiu7u6UeKQLRvsZQbWxFQ-r8xYjnLWtw0mPgv8Dl6NpCnkc2gdMm6nZ7dgbG2ZuVeJqjVG5bdNI/s1600/present2005_jap.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="566" data-original-width="400" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIamOJxd3_AvOxSpfNrvyj58BeukFtMOC7zjiBoJHvvSMhYR3_u2PVSE3tlK6WpvrhOiu7u6UeKQLRvsZQbWxFQ-r8xYjnLWtw0mPgv8Dl6NpCnkc2gdMm6nZ7dgbG2ZuVeJqjVG5bdNI/s200/present2005_jap.jpg" width="141" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2012/12/december-to-dismember-purezento-2005.html" style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;">PRESENT (2005)</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCLp0iZujpIQw_wuF_HjN1eM6COOiaGitbZoFpOZG8Ft7X6np8U8rV1HbpbbzXzkQNApfgQ2sYdorto7r6a41KWF637W3CAYZkPUsdU0IRa_MgHCL1201Wxnqx7DfTHfVwGeebvPDMUE/s1600/santaclaws_dvd.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1384" data-original-width="963" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCLp0iZujpIQw_wuF_HjN1eM6COOiaGitbZoFpOZG8Ft7X6np8U8rV1HbpbbzXzkQNApfgQ2sYdorto7r6a41KWF637W3CAYZkPUsdU0IRa_MgHCL1201Wxnqx7DfTHfVwGeebvPDMUE/s200/santaclaws_dvd.jpg" width="138" /></a></div>
<a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2012/12/december-to-dismember-santa-claws-1996.html" style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;">SANTA CLAWS (1996)</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2012/12/december-to-dismember-silent-night.html">SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT 3 (1989)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/01/december-to-dismember-silent-night-2012.html">SILENT NIGHT (2012)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/01/december-to-dismember-silent-night.html">SILENT NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT 4 & 5 (1990 / 1991)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/12/december-to-dismember-saint-2010.html">SAINT (2010)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/12/december-to-dismember-blackout-2009.html">THE BLACKOUT (2009)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/12/december-to-dismember-alien-raiders-2008.html">ALIEN RAIDERS (2008)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/12/december-to-dismember-satan-claus-1996.html">SATAN CLAUS (1996)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/12/december-to-dismember-home-for-holidays.html">HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS (1972)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/12/december-to-dismember-tales-from.html">TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE (1986) and MONSTERS (1987)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/12/december-to-dismember-christmas-season.html">THE CHRISTMAS SEASON MASSACRE (2001)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/12/december-to-dismember-tales-of-third.html">TALES OF THE THIRD DIMENSION (1984)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2013/12/december-to-dismember-silent-night.html">SILENT NIGHT, ZOMBIE NIGHT (2009)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2014/12/december-to-dismember-feeders-2-slay.html">FEEDERS 2: SLAY BELLS (1998)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2014/12/december-to-dismember-feeders-2-slay.html">ONE HELL OF A CHRISTMAS (2002)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2015/12/december-to-dismember-iced-1988.html">ICED (1988)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2015/12/december-to-dismember-krampus-christmas.html">KRAMPUS: THE CHRISTMAS DEVIL (2013)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2015/12/december-to-dismember-krampus-2015.html">KRAMPUS (2015)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2015/12/december-to-dismember-christmas-horror.html">A CHRISTMAS HORROR STORY (2015)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2015/12/december-to-dismember-cadaver-christmas.html">A CADAVER CHRISTMAS (2011)</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0oTiopesA-q7uNYv9_XUpjmZmxjKcCPz8zMIiSj3ZnlrU4NMEfCwUOqLSVMtOdgIVwQE76hiNpia8wX9eWRNoo9CtgbvhMIcQIm8DZXotPGoL5lmnoK3JhyphenhyphenZq1-74N0TsOvV8UgXT5ns/s1600/krampus2_vid.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="330" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0oTiopesA-q7uNYv9_XUpjmZmxjKcCPz8zMIiSj3ZnlrU4NMEfCwUOqLSVMtOdgIVwQE76hiNpia8wX9eWRNoo9CtgbvhMIcQIm8DZXotPGoL5lmnoK3JhyphenhyphenZq1-74N0TsOvV8UgXT5ns/s200/krampus2_vid.jpg" width="140" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0oTiopesA-q7uNYv9_XUpjmZmxjKcCPz8zMIiSj3ZnlrU4NMEfCwUOqLSVMtOdgIVwQE76hiNpia8wX9eWRNoo9CtgbvhMIcQIm8DZXotPGoL5lmnoK3JhyphenhyphenZq1-74N0TsOvV8UgXT5ns/s1600/krampus2_vid.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-krampus-2-return.html" style="font-size: x-large;">CRAMPUS 2: THE DEVIL RETURNS (2016)</a></div>
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<a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-santa-claus-vs.html" style="font-size: x-large;">SANTA CLAUS VS. THE ZOMBIES (2010)</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-krampus-unleashed.html">KRAMPUS UNLEASHED (2016)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-krampus-unleashed.html">THE ELF (2017)</a></span><br />
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<a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-12-deaths-of.html"><span style="font-size: large;">THE 12 DEATHS OF CHRISTMAS (2017)</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-tales-from-grave.html">TALES FROM THE GRAVE 2: HAPPY HOLIDAYS (2005)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-christmas-with.html">CHRISTMAS WITH THE DEAD (2012)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-christmas-slay.html">CHRISTMAS SLAY (2015)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-christmas-cruelty.html">CHRISTMAS CRUELTY! (2013)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-you-better-watch.html">YOU BETTER WATCH OUT! (2013)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-all-through-house.html">ALL THROUGH THE HOUSE (2015)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2017/12/december-to-dismember-good-tidings-2016.html">GOOD TIDINGS (2016)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/12/december-to-dismember-krampus-origins.html">KRAMPUS: ORIGINS (2018)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/12/december-to-dismember-once-upon-time-at.html">ONCE UPON A TIME AT CHRISTMAS (2017)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/12/december-to-dismember-mother-krampus-2.html">MOTHER KRAMPUS 2: SLAY RIDE (2018)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/12/december-to-dismember-elves-2018.html">ELVES (2018)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/12/december-to-dismember-secret-santa-2015.html">SECRET SANTA (2015)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/12/december-to-dismember-massacre-on-aisle.html">MASSACRE ON AISLE 12 (2016)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/12/december-to-dismember-red-christmas-2016.html">RED CHRISTMAS (2016)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/12/december-to-dismember-mercy-christmas.html">MERCY CHRISTMAS (2017)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2018/12/december-to-dismember-secret-santa-2018.html">SECRET SANTA (2018)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2019/12/december-to-dismember-bikini-bloodbath.html">BIKINI BLOODBATH CHRISTMAS (2009)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2019/12/december-to-dismember-deadly-little.html">DEADLY LITTLE CHRISTMAS (2009)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2019/12/december-to-dismember-santa-jaws-2018.html">SANTA JAWS (2018)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2019/12/december-to-dismember-holiday-hell-2019.html">HOLIDAY HELL (2019)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2019/12/december-to-dismember-shelved-2016.html">SHELVED (2016)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2019/12/december-to-dismember-christmas-blood.html">CHRISTMAS BLOOD (2017)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2019/12/december-to-dismember-christmas-to.html">CHRISTMAS TO DISMEMBER (2016) / DEAD BY CHRISTMAS (2018)</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://originalvidjunkie.blogspot.com/2019/12/december-to-dismember-dismembering.html">DISMEMBERING CHRISTMAS (2015)</a></span><br />
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<br />Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-9673510311529090452019-12-31T07:00:00.000-08:002019-12-31T09:59:10.010-08:00December to Dismember: DISMEMBERING CHRISTMAS (2015)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As December draws to a close, it's important to think about the way your life has been blessed by the Fates. To relax in front of a roaring electric space heater and watch life-affirming movies that bring you closer to your friends and loved ones. So why am I doing this shit? Actually, in a way, nothing brings people closer together than mutual suffering, so a slew of insufferable Christmas horror films fits perfectly. That said, I feel I should bring this up once again: We are actually <i>hoping </i>for diamonds in the rough. We would really <i>like </i>to get a low-budget movie that actually has something going for it. It's not like we go off and watch recent Bruce Willis and Steven Seagal movies. That's just fucking crazy.<br />
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Running true to form, DISMEMBERING CHRISTMAS is like an old joke. Tell me if you've heard this one: A group of kids meet at a house to celebrate Christmas, drink heavily, say a lot of stupid crap and finally get picked off one by one by a killer that nobody sees or hears, even though he/she/it is in the same freakin' house with them. Yeah, I know, El Diablo's in the details, but trust me, the details ain't cutting it.<br />
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Starting with a black-clad killer sneaking into a kitchen in which a man is busy playing with tinsel, the killer unwraps a Christmas present (yes, while standing behind the guy who is completely unaware that someone else is two feet away from him) which turns out to be a hunting knife engraved with the name "Mark", leading to an off-screen stabbing and the killer washing the knife and re-wrapping it. This will be important later... or not.<br />
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After getting some pointless banter between a couple of high-school kids, Travis (Austin Bosley) and Lauren (Shannon McInnis), driving through the snow, they meet up with Justin (Johnathon Krautkramer) and Mark (Baker Chase Powell), a trust-fund kid who's father owns the mansion-like, snow-bound cabin that they are (ahem) dying to party in. Once they stand around and talk for a bit (we discover that Mark has a fake ID that he used to buy alcohol), they move inside to meet Justin's maybe-girlfriend Sam (Nina Kova), Justin's step-sister Emma (Leah Wiseman) and Mark's girlfriend Katie (Danielle Doetsch). This is all spelled out as they stand around the kitchen talking about nothing important. This is going to hurt, isn't it?<br />
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While getting the booze out of the car (another riveting and important scene), Mark and friends meet their neighbor Joan (Marla Van Lanen) who lives a mile down the road. She's kind of kooky, which is evidenced by the fact that she takes a snapshot of them with only her fingers. After a lot more talking and the introduction of yet another friend, Clair-Bear (Jennifer Lenius), Emma and Sam walk and talk about hooking Sam up with Justin, they meet up with another sketchy neighbor, Frank (Scott Seagren) who tells them that they can't stay in that house! They have to leave! THEY CAN'T STAY THERE! Why? Because tomorrow is Christmas eve! After continuing to drag out this dreary attempt at a Crazy Ralph "you're doomed!" scene, we finally find out that it's because "there were murders here". Ok, so that makes total sense now. Once there has been a murder in a house, no one can ever stay in that house again. Ever. Apparently a woman murdered her family on Christmas eve and was found "screaming nonsense in the basement". So can we guess who the killer is going to be already?<br />
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Of course, no by-the-numbers slasher movie is complete without a red Solo cup party scene. This cliche is doubled down on with a almost nudity-free drunken strip poker scene. I say "almost" because what we do get is man ass. Well, technically, boy ass. The only thing amusing about this is the fact that the credits show that the actor who is supposedly showing off his pasty cheeks is actually using a body double. I think that actually may be a first for a no-budget slasher movie. This partying sequence goes on for nearly 3 minutes with the camera simulating their drunkenness by rotating around the table where they are sitting enough times to make even those without any history of motion sickness feel queasy. On the other hand, there are a couple of moments where the first and last time feature director Austin Bosley does try to get some atmospheric camera-work. There's only so much you can dim the lights in a low-budget digital production, but Bosley manages a few low-light sequences and a good amount of camera movement, prowling up staircases and dollying around corners. Of course a lot of my good will is lost when the automatic exposure dims and returns in a shot and it's just left in because doing extra takes is like work and stuff.<br />
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When Travis and Lauren go outside (in their pajamas), we <i>finally </i>get an appearance by the killer, who slices open Travis' guts (he quickly turns around so that we don't see that he is simply pressing some offal against his shirt) with what appears to be a gift wrapped hockey stick. Could it be a gift stolen from the house along with the knife in the beginning? Is the killer just self-gifting? Who knows? We never will. I'm kind of amazed that these movies can't even be bothered to do the oldest low-rent trick in the book, and insert a close-up shot of a fake torso being stabbed or gutted or whatever. Adding to the laziness, when the kids wake up and notice that Travis and Lauren are gone, they just blow it off saying that they just took off at dawn... even though they left all of their clothes and personal effects in their room? Sure, whatever.<br />
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From there, it's more scenes of high-school kids talking about boys, girls and vomiting, interspersed with a killer in what appears to be a bulky road-worker's suit and a cheap Leatherface mask, sneaking around the house killing off the kids in shockingly unexciting scenes of non-horror. The best scene (and I use that word loosely) is when Clair-Bear and Mark are standing and talking in the snow and mid conversation Mark says “I've got an idea” and runs off into the woods leaving the Clair just standing there and try to fix up a rather pathetic snowman. We cut back to Mark and he’s whooping and laughing while sledding down a hill. So he doesn’t even say “hey, would you like to go sledding?” Nope just takes off. After cutting back and forth, the killer somehow sneaks up on the girl, hides behind the snowman that <i>she is looking at </i>and kills her with a large candy cane, while somehow simultaneously setting up a tripwire to decapitate the sledding dude. Yeah, that was the best bit. It completely lifted an iconic moment from SILENT NIGHT DEADLY NIGHT (1984), but at least they created an effect, rather than just have everything happen off screen. Of course, the effect is barely seen as it consists of a quick flash of what we presume is a severed head flying after what appears to be a decapitated body. We also get scenes that don't seem to make any sense at all, such as when Emma is freaked out by a picture of some guy smiling and holding a dog, there's a sound of a dog yelp on the soundtrack and she starts laughing. In her next scene, she also faints after seeing something, though we are never shown what it is. Did anybody actually watch this during the editing process?<br />
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(Obligatory spoiler warning) As it turns out, the killer is Joan, the crazy lady that lives down the road and obviously not Frank, who ends up a corpse, because we all know that's what happens to the Crazy Ralph character. Joan has the final girl, Sam, tied up and is shouting stuff about her being her daughter, which has nothing to do with anything else in the movie, but was covered by the bit of earlier dialogue where Frank stated the the killer was "screaming nonsense." So this denouement doesn't actually have to explain anything! Damn kids! Back in my day, bad slasher movies at least came up with a pat and cliched explanation for the killer's homicidal impulses. You know, terrorized by campers, ignored by counselors, witnessing mommy kissing Santa Claus. Not here. She's just nuts. Oh, and that knife that got rewrapped in the beginning? We find out that it was a gift to Mark from his dad, but that doesn't matter at all, except maybe to imply that the stabee in the opening scene was the dad (we are never told who that was). But again, that doesn't matter at all either.<br />
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Starting life as a Kickstarter campaign, according to the IMDb, the script was originally a spec script for a FRIDAY THE 13TH sequel. So basically writers (yes, there are two) Steve Goltz and Kevin Sommerfield sat at a kitchen table and said "wouldn't it be awesome if we could like do a Jason sequel?" Even if the F13 rights weren't actually held up in litigation and even if this wasn't a Kickstarter movie, there is no way in hell this would even be considered, much less read, by any studio brass. The only thing that this has that F13 fans have been wanting for years is snow. That's it. Creepy score? Nope. Nekkid girls? Nope. Creative kills? Nope. Special effects? Not really. Cool looking killer? Definitely not. There are some nice sound effects of wind whistling through trees, and the musical cues by Dylan Curzon, while not exactly Henry Mancini, are better than average for this level of filmmaking.<br />
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Literally the first thing we see on the screen telegraphs the misery that is in store. It's a title card reading "Slasher Studios". First off, that's the kind of studio name you'd fantasize about in Junior High, second there is no studio, it's an Airbnb. After gathering $11,000 off of Kickstarter, $1500 of it went for the rental of this house, which is really the only money on the screen. Supposedly $1000 was ear-marked for effects, but damned if I can see anything that would have cost more than a couple hundred. Even worse, for a "studio" that talks a big game and actually gathered what they claim to be a $25,000 total budget, the audio level has not been equalized from scene to scene, much less shot to shot! One shot will have people talking too quietly to hear and you'll be forced to crank up the volume, so that the next shot will have a response that is loud enough to piss off the neighbors. Someone on Facebook recently said that a focus puller's job is hard; if you do your job right, nobody cares, screw up once and you are an incompetent asshole. This movie suddenly made me realize how obvious it should be that you need to normalize the audio through the duration of the movie. How could they watch this and say "Yep, nailed it! Ok everybody, group high-five"?<br />
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Unfortunately, as the season sinks despondently to a close, it's starting to look like that Santa royally stiffed us. The Christmas miracle of a half-way decent Christmas horror movie wasn't under the tree this year. There's always next year, I guess. Til then we will have to console ourselves with a stack of unwatched David Heavener movies. That should give you some idea of how rough this year was.Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-40231551259911976542019-12-25T07:00:00.000-08:002019-12-25T07:41:40.632-08:00December to Dismember: A CHRISTMAS TO DISMEMBER (2016) / DEAD BY CHRISTMAS (2018)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ho, ho, ho! “Wait, what did you call me,” says our faithful reader(s). Merry Christmas! This year we’ve decided to give everyone a gift. Unfortunately, it is like that gift you never really wanted like a shoe horn, a pair of black-and-white checkered pants (hey, some folks like them!), or an Eli Roth movie on disc. Yes, we’re going to be doing some deep cuts when it comes to the Christmas horror genre. Deep cuts in both senses of the term in that they are really obscure selections that even the most fervent fan has never heard of; and deep cuts because when we watch them they hurt us down to our core. So, in the spirit of giving, we are going to do a tag team of reviews of Christmas horror shorts. William is up first with a review of…<br />
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<b>A CHRISTMAS TO DISMEMBER (2016)</b><br />
Jeez, if there is ever a title that would be perfect for our “December to Dismember” category, this might be it. Well, like every Christmas, disappointment is always creeping down our chimney. The film opens in the perfect location for a Christmas set horror film - the woods of Canada without a single snowflake in sight. Wait, I take that back, there are Cameron (Alex DiSanto, who also directed this) and his friend Rita. The duo are just sitting around delivering unhuman-like dialogue that lets me know this is going to be a rough 40 minutes. Seriously, who talks like this?<br />
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Cameron: <i>We’re not leaving until we explore the rest of the forest.</i><br />
Rita: <i>But it’s mucky!</i><br />
Cameron: <i>Yeah, but it’s beautiful and isolated.</i><br />
Rita: <i>Well, we should have a party here!</i><br />
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The duo decide they should search the river for a classmate’s stash of hidden hash. Bad news for Rita as the only thing she finds is a killer in a Santa Claus outfit who kills her with an axe. Cameron eventually walks around a tree and finds her bloody body. He just stands there, shaking his head in shame as if he caught her stealing hot dogs. Freakin’ Cameron, man!<br />
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We then cut to a high school where a group of kids are in detention.With Cameron is a trio of girls: Veronica (Jennifer McNamara), the bitchy one because she is always bitching and is the quasi-leader; Samantha (Emma Fulton), the other bitchy one but with pink hair; and Bailey (Riley Anderson), the sarcastic one because she is wearing a shirt that says “Sarcastic Comment Loading (please wait).” These kids are rebels as they pull a THE BREAKFAST CLUB (1985) and leave the classroom to wander their Christian school. This is a marvelous scene where we are shown two minutes and forty-five seconds of hallway wandering. Yes, I clocked it because I wanted to know how much of the film’s 40-minute running time was spent on hall wandering. I blame Cameron. Freakin’ Cameron, man!<br />
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Cameron and Veronica then walk home and talk about going to a party. As a lowly junior, Cameron questions why he would go to party with older kids and Veronica says, “Because it will boost your rep.” F’N Cameron! However, Veronica’s rep is about to take a hit because the Santa Claus killer catches her alone. He throws a rock that hits her in the back of the head so hard it pops her eye out. Sheeeeeet, someone needs to recruit Santa to the track team for the shot put event. That boy got an arm! As usually happens with a death in high school, everyone is really bummed out. Haha, just kidding. Per MEAN GIRL code, Samantha insists she is now the group leader. Later, Samantha, Bailey, and newly-introduced friend Matthew (Erin Hilberdink) head on over to Cameron’s for his raging Christmas party. And by raging I mean a riveting present exchange scene. I did marvel that someone gave Cameron a VHS copy of the HAMMER HOUSE OF HORROR episode “Guardian of the Abyss” on the Elvira Thriller Video label. Yes, I’m a VHS nerd. Just like my boy Cameron. Freakin’ Cameron, man!<br />
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The party takes a dramatic turn when Samantha asks Cameron, “Do you still have that book with the Ouija board?” Soon enough they are contacting the dead Veronica and ask her who killed her. “S...A...N...T...A” she spells out with the planchette. Obviously speaking <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vFShnAuRy54sTr36__n6CrDL2KBtAVQYRTno_FsaJqmn1HORl3xHw0_roy4fMsoQrkHPaUOlbFJdxAtyAu9EFNu10T5PAlHP8vGlskXgotk7_XYCLa_OHRodsMkLRLYVhyphenhypheno3s6Mldyk/s1600/dismember6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="719" data-original-width="1280" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vFShnAuRy54sTr36__n6CrDL2KBtAVQYRTno_FsaJqmn1HORl3xHw0_roy4fMsoQrkHPaUOlbFJdxAtyAu9EFNu10T5PAlHP8vGlskXgotk7_XYCLa_OHRodsMkLRLYVhyphenhypheno3s6Mldyk/s400/dismember6.jpg" width="400" /></a>with the dead freaks the group out and they split. Haha, just kidding, Samantha heads to the basement to get more soda and is quickly disemboweled by the Santa killer. She doesn’t scream. The remaining kids eventually find her body after Bailey delivers one of my favorite lines of the year: “Did anyone hear that loud thump downstairs?” Guuuurl, why you gotta shade her weight? In perhaps the greatest scare for teenagers, the kids find out all of their cell phones are missing. They opt to stay put in the house after Cameron says, “It all makes sense. He took all of our phones thinking we’d go outside to the neighbors for help. So he is probably out there waiting for us. What we should really do is barricade ourselves in here til morning.” Freakin’ Cameron, man! Also, I don’t want to criticize (I’ll do that in the next paragraph), but Cameron keeps saying “he” when talking about the killer. Seeing as there is only one male in the group, me thinks DiSanto might have slipped up and revealed who the killer is. Yes (SPOILER IF YOU ARE EVER INSANE ENOUGH TO WATCH THIS) freakin’ Cameron is the killer and he is doing it because he finds his friends “evil, manipulative people” that are “filthy and disgusting!” And I thought my high school years were awkward. (END SPOILER)<br />
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Goddang, I actually feel kind of bad if I rip this one apart because this is basically kids in high school making a movie and I really wanted to “be best” this holiday season. Plus, I’d hate to dissuade anyone from their dreams. Rest assured this is amateur <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EmWTcdIJjI6Qy51OIRvr2b5czPvXkQWEM2LJuxuAiGmzgMKjotk4qlugZKkDMDZ9hR1JlPS3LupR5uCGKy7HQOpRA_mIX0B2NydVBhi6dq2Po9z7WzjB2iD-3ulfjbMePI7qLWVDuxQ/s1600/dismember8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="870" data-original-width="1280" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EmWTcdIJjI6Qy51OIRvr2b5czPvXkQWEM2LJuxuAiGmzgMKjotk4qlugZKkDMDZ9hR1JlPS3LupR5uCGKy7HQOpRA_mIX0B2NydVBhi6dq2Po9z7WzjB2iD-3ulfjbMePI7qLWVDuxQ/s400/dismember8.jpg" width="400" /></a>hour...well, amateur forty minutes really. It is full of wonky filmmaking, goofy store-bought masks, silly blood gags, and stilted acting. Trust me, I know because I made a similar slasher when I was in high school back during the Civil War. DiSanto is apparently a Canadian auteur who has delivered earlier short films such as NIGHTMARE IN PSYCHO TOWN (2014) and MEAT PIE MASSACRE (2015). You can tell he has an affinity for 1980s horror films (just check out his bedroom wall in the pic to the right) and he seems to be emulating his faves here. Unfortunately, he forgot to copy the good parts like suspense, terror or creative kills. I don’t want to be overly negative because it is clear he has an enthusiasm for the work, so I’ll focus on some of the positives. There is a dream sequence toward the end where Bailey sees herself in the forest that is juxtaposed with a surreal thing where Cameron is being cut by a person in a mask that reminds me of one worn in THE REDEEMER (1978). Here DiSanto delivers a bit of surrealism as Bailey encounters a masked killer hanging ornaments on a tree. It isn’t a knockout scene, but it definitely made an impression. There is also some good music throughout the film. Based off that, I’d encourage DiSanto and his entourage to keep it up. Yes, my Christmas gift this year is unhealthy motivation. I hope he continues to explore his passion well into his college years. And speaking of which, that is the perfect segue for me to tag Tom in for his review of...<br />
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<b>DEAD BY CHRISTMAS (2018)</b><br />
Remember a week or so ago how I said something that implied that I hit a low-point? No man has ever been so wrong in his life (well, except Harvey Weinstein, but I meant about terrible Christmas movies, not about life in general). Sure I complain bitterly about Uncork'd seducing me with great covers and misleading titles, Artsploitation writing checks that their movies can't cash, but I have no excuse here. Sporting a couple of still frames and a title generated in Microsoft Word, this entry not only cannot hit anything close to a feature running time, but can't even be bothered to get someone to illustrate a half-way enticing piece of promotional art. How hard is it to have your buddy Jeff doodle something during math class? This lack of effort should have set off a legion of red flags. I mean, it did, but I had to forge a head ("forge" meaning to hit something with a hammer).<br />
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A group of college-age losers who all grew up in the same orphanage decide to get together for Christmas after one of their number supposedly commits suicide by stabbing himself in the eyes with candy canes, or as one character refers to them "that sharp thingy" (I'm not making that up). We are shown that he was in fact killed by someone in a Santa suit, which is supposed to lead to some upcoming suspense. The house that they plan to meet up at is the home of Sister Mary (Dawn Streeck), the nun who worked at the orphanage with a Father LeDoux (Vince Rodriguez). Apparently, the group harbors a deep, dark secret about their time at the orphanage, which everybody talks about, without actually telling the audience what they are talking about.<br />
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When they aren't talking about stuff that they don't want to talk about, we get their internal monologues in voice-over sounding as if they are being read off of a cue card for the first time. The lead girl Carla (Holly Bonney), is constantly musing pubescent poetic introspective thoughts, such as "The rain comes. The rain goes. This is life" and "Christmas is the season of giving. But can you truly give when you're holding back?" If I had to listen to that all of the time I'd stab myself with "that sharp thingy" too.<br />
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When the group aren't sullenly arguing about who got worse abuse at the lecherous hands of Father LeDoux (without actually saying that they were abused), they wander around a Christmas craft fair looking at various bits of junk while grating Christmas music plays in the back ground. Or they walk across a street, or talk in front of an utterly insane OCD Christmas nightmare house that looks like a very special holiday episode of HOARDERS. This is intended to be heart-warming. It is not.<br />
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Even though nobody will actually say what happened at the orphanage, we get plenty of flashbacks of kids drinking tea, Sister Mary looking scared and Father LeDoux leering, so it becomes really obvious what was going on, long before the characters actually bother to spell it out. After seemingly weeks, but in fact only about a half an hour, of nothing happening (except the lead male taking a shower, if that's your thing), our killer Santa shows up and does something to the back of the supposedly grunge gurl Tessa (Hilary Porter). We don't see what it is, but it sounds like burning and there is close-up of an outline of a gingerbread man in blood on her back. I was assuming he was supposed to have carved it in her skin with something, until there is a shot of a baking tray with cookie cutter shapes of skin on it. They literally couldn't be bothered to even try to make a crappy effect of having fake skin peeling off of a red "wound". Hell, they couldn't even be bothered to paint the inside of the cookie cutter shape red!<br />
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This leads to more flashbacks, more talking about feelings, and a couple of other cheap, mostly off-screen kills. By this time we know exactly who the Santa killer is and pretty much why the kids are being killed as the "clues" are thuddingly obvious from the start. Even worse the ending explanation goes on foreeeeeeever (about 10 minutes, one fifth of the movie's running time.) [Spoilers Commence] As it turns out, Sister Mary, an enabler of Father LeDoux's sexual abuse of the children, is dressing up in LeDoux's Santa outfit and killing the kids in an act of revenge for them complaining about the abuse, which lead to the priest's suicide. In reality, of course, this is a bit unbelievable as priests don't shoot themselves in the head, because that's a sin. Sexually assaulting children is apparently just a moment of weakness, and is easily fixed by having the bishop cover it up. In a final twist, Sister Mary keeps one of the girls (Maggie Buck) alive and permanently paralyzed with poison tea, blaming the murders on her as she sits comatose on the sofa. The detective on the case sees nothing suspicious about this, or Mary's unprovoked protestations of innocence.</div>
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Shot on digital video with a budget that strains to the breaking point just to buy a Santa costume, director Armand Petri has made a few other short and feature length no-budget movies, a few of which have some nice, fake reviews on the IMDb. This is his latest to date and if this is how much he has progressed over the past few years, then there is zero hope. For him as a filmmaker and for me watching anything else in his oeuvre. The directing is clumsy, the production valueless and the writing is puerile. I'm not sure where the actors come from, but the performances feel like Petri simply invited some of his friends over for the weekend. Adding insult to injury, the short running time is padded out with so much dead wood that even at under an hour, the movie drags to the point of madness, particularly since it is obvious who dunnit by the 10 minute mark. I'm pretty sure the title is irony defined, as I'm not sure we made it out of this festive month alive.<br />
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- Thomas SueyresThomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4928771769789533784.post-44178754771045807412019-12-21T07:00:00.000-08:002019-12-21T10:11:22.446-08:00December to Dismember: CHRISTMAS BLOOD (2017)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Quick joke for the schoolyard: What's worse than seeing the Uncork'd logo when you fire up a Christmas horror movie? Not seeing one and thinking that what you are going to watch might be good. Ok, it's not a very funny joke. Even less funny because it's true. I swear to sweet baby jeebus, my Christmas stocking single-handedly keeps the coal industry alive.<br />
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Set in two separate time lines and spanning five years, this Norwegian entry opens with a little girl sneaking downstairs to poke and prod the presents under the Christmas tree. As we all know, this is naughty, and Santa shows up to teach her the error of her ways (off screen of course). Then a man comes down to investigate the screams and gets his head smashed in. Suddenly, the police arrive in what is undoubtedly world record breaking response time, to what is presumably a massacre. I say "presumably" because the cinematography is so dark due to the filmlook video filter that you can barely see anything other than random glimpses of what appear to possibly be mutilated bodies. The detective on the scene Thomas Rasch (Stig Henrik Hoff) finds a list of names in one of the victim's mouths and decides this is the last straw, runs out to where the uniform cops are holding the Santa killer on the ground and shoots him twice in the back and once in the head. Obviously he got his police training in the US.</div>
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If you have spent much time watching Scandinavian entertainment, you'll know that they have a thing for detective thrillers, or more accurately, police procedurals. And when I say "thing" what I mean is "cultural obsession". While this obsession with police detectives chasing down criminals goes way back, it really caught fire when Swedish (not Norwegian, Mac) novelist Maj Sjöwall and crime journalist Per Wahlöö teamed up to write the Martin Beck series of books, which are arguably the best police procedural thrillers of the modern era. The books spawned radio adaptations, films (even an American one), TV shows and inspired countless other writers and filmmakers world-wide. As a consequence, it seems utterly impossible for the Swedes or Norwegians to make a horror movie, and if they do, it absolutely must have a significant amount of time devoted to at least one police detective trying to catch who or whatever is killing people, usually in remote villages. Bearing that in mind, you know exactly what to expect here. Well, almost exactly. The elements are there, but that's about it.</div>
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Apparently Rasch had been hunting down the Santa Killer, responsible for 121 murders in 12 towns, for 13 years in a country the size of New Mexico. That's almost exactly one murder for every two square miles of land at a rate of about 1 per month and nobody can catch this maniac with an axe in a bright red suit that (I'm not making this up) leaves a trail of bloody jingle bells in his wake? Either he's a freakin' ninja or he's Jason Voorhees. There can't be any other explanation. As we are told in a very long expositional text scrawl, "In some inexplicable way, the Santa survives and he is locked up at a secret address." Yep, the guy survives a bullet to the head, which I would call bullshit on, except that Ronald Reagan did too. Though nobody had the good sense to lock him up afterwards.</div>
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Equally inexplicably, the holy Saint Nick (yeah, boo all you want), manages to escape his surprisingly low security prison. Since Rasch quit the department after the "Christmas Blood" case (yes, that's the official case name), Detective Terje Hansen (Sondre Krogtoft Larsen) is now in charge of hunting down the homicidal Julenissen. He discovers that Santa refused to talk to anyone at the prison, would only eat porridge (Norwegians leave rice porridge on their doorsteps for Santa), and would get agitated around Christmas, which is really not a distinguishing characteristic. Have you seen people around Christmas? "Agitated" is a nice way of putting it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ctqUPFCAga7gT964PidFgJN8SEyDyqFHwkWzU_ZNTUrvUOHILoS80WJca7RyOI9XuWLSM9eCFw-4_WnN28qblcVUI6zStMXlINCwvmJqXjUjoplaFBLa3bS40sGPCysqRg4vjr3WD_I/s1600/christmasblood_04b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="1600" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ctqUPFCAga7gT964PidFgJN8SEyDyqFHwkWzU_ZNTUrvUOHILoS80WJca7RyOI9XuWLSM9eCFw-4_WnN28qblcVUI6zStMXlINCwvmJqXjUjoplaFBLa3bS40sGPCysqRg4vjr3WD_I/s400/christmasblood_04b.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuM9uVz4c25lSuYsVtud0GMDdfQfqv4PwX6F2l5ZJ37MZhpOR-84enBqwF3OhzG6SO8O6gyTgEIYYqNEIRLHng2Rt2bClxD-Mp1JZyG4JekMqYJ1RQNVJ0GN7HuVye2RhFEt1PmaCg6aE/s1600/christmasblood_16.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="1600" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuM9uVz4c25lSuYsVtud0GMDdfQfqv4PwX6F2l5ZJ37MZhpOR-84enBqwF3OhzG6SO8O6gyTgEIYYqNEIRLHng2Rt2bClxD-Mp1JZyG4JekMqYJ1RQNVJ0GN7HuVye2RhFEt1PmaCg6aE/s400/christmasblood_16.png" width="400" /></a>
For some, yet again, inexplicable reason, Santa, fresh out of stir, has his eyes set on a group of girls who apparently all met in Australia or something. To say that this plot is more muddled than a bourbon Old Fashioned is putting it mildly. It jumps back and forth from 2011 to 2016 for no apparent reason before settling in on the present day (2016) and a house party that these girls are sort of just throwing for themselves because of... Christmas. The group includes, but is not limited to, a prudish goody-goody who is outraged that the token black girl brought some chronic into the house (did no one tell her this was a party?), an emotionally unstable girl who brings her boyfriend who has slept with the token black girl (leading to crying and high drama), and a mute who wears a lot of make-up. Not deaf, just mute, and kind of slutty as she decides to have sex with on of the unwashed hillbillies who show up after a Tinder invite. Yep, that's the kind of movie this is, sort of a bumbling rip-off of the girls from the 2006 remake of BLACK CHRISTMAS. Girls who shout things like "good motherfuckin' yule bitches!" and "would you rather go down on your grandmother or punch a baby in the face?" I suddenly feel like the designated driver at an unsanctioned high-school graduation party.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvLNO0yU-Aqm509dHBbcAqvmJ8JZ5Yix3uzkcn9uxb8RTV_vPODl4qT36LkxyxBr27dYAws_lLP1QwOy2517pFTrU-wyocmFMtE69ZQl8CnTMaPKZWJ1HNKbzuDoVGao1hk8xx9SIY5U/s1600/christmasblood_10.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="1600" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvLNO0yU-Aqm509dHBbcAqvmJ8JZ5Yix3uzkcn9uxb8RTV_vPODl4qT36LkxyxBr27dYAws_lLP1QwOy2517pFTrU-wyocmFMtE69ZQl8CnTMaPKZWJ1HNKbzuDoVGao1hk8xx9SIY5U/s400/christmasblood_10.png" width="400" /></a></div>
While the girls are getting their shitface on, Santa seems to just wander around looking for someone to kill and Hansen seems to just wander around looking for Santa. At one point, Hansen heads out to the morgue to check out a tatted, pierced, stripper-boobed corpse. After examining it in detail and watching the coroner eat lunch off of it (an attempt at gross-out comedy), Hansen realizes that the corpse has nothing to do with his case and leaves! Err, so why did we have that scene? I mean, if you want some gratuitous nudity, we do have a house full of 20-something girls who are in the process of drinking themselves into uninhibited moral laxness. No? I guess you are right, that would be too easy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5UZNmxWjfas7XFhvvD0yPMM5EBLkotWQzKZXgp_EACLxur-a60j9zLtCCvJX4KBl-MpGbak8xke6qyvPIhvVJ24bTyYTzqf0Uk7vylHTXCcm5QpdxYkyG5Ri1plgv6OWPGwBwlZZqj0/s1600/christmasblood_12b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="1600" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil5UZNmxWjfas7XFhvvD0yPMM5EBLkotWQzKZXgp_EACLxur-a60j9zLtCCvJX4KBl-MpGbak8xke6qyvPIhvVJ24bTyYTzqf0Uk7vylHTXCcm5QpdxYkyG5Ri1plgv6OWPGwBwlZZqj0/s400/christmasblood_12b.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje077xHkWsu8iWqp_b4a-G7D-VzGO_hxS5b0jyWlrku7JWsnlhY9KlyDtoilK4c4ko9hdX3b-5i4Nqd1GYQNI4T33m_5davA4FXX8BfGmEGBeO7FOt4PsmpnZNiWvTvYtZjuzIfS83iz8/s1600/christmasblood_15.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="1600" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje077xHkWsu8iWqp_b4a-G7D-VzGO_hxS5b0jyWlrku7JWsnlhY9KlyDtoilK4c4ko9hdX3b-5i4Nqd1GYQNI4T33m_5davA4FXX8BfGmEGBeO7FOt4PsmpnZNiWvTvYtZjuzIfS83iz8/s400/christmasblood_15.png" width="400" /></a>
Additionally, we get Hansen hunting down Rasch to help him hunt down Santa and finding him in a squalid apartment reeking of booze and poor life choices. This leads to the old saw of the old soak cleaning himself up for one last go-round. To pad out the movie even more, Hansen also follows up a lead in which he busts in on some white trash dude who is pretty pissed off about having some hot monkey love interrupted and attacks him... while naked and presumably uhhhh... "aroused". Like the morgue scene, this has nothing to do with the case either. Eventually, after much sitting around at desks bemoaning the fact that the clock is ticking on this case, as Santa is presumed to be preparing to kill someone on the stroke of midnight. Midnight is apparently when Christmas starts (I think it's only the US in which Christmas starts in October). Hansen and Rasch finally figure out that the girls who are partying are the intended victims as Rasch realizes that the killer is committing his crimes to make... wait for it... a Christmas tree on the Norwegian map! No, seriously, that's it. Check the framegrab if you don't believe me. Cue the obligatory detectives-rushing-out-of-the-office scene.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7M3yms9cgmfS0qjuEZAA8qtcM_XuaE-eZiWQ1tp714qe69WdQ_xqPRrcxa4GxEmfqp8fiL4mtSpP2vmU2ccZ_6uUfmrkqIQM_pnjDviy3LEdaLyOpEMG58D_l4bdZWPO_unsDLGPlxp8/s1600/christmasblood_19.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="1600" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7M3yms9cgmfS0qjuEZAA8qtcM_XuaE-eZiWQ1tp714qe69WdQ_xqPRrcxa4GxEmfqp8fiL4mtSpP2vmU2ccZ_6uUfmrkqIQM_pnjDviy3LEdaLyOpEMG58D_l4bdZWPO_unsDLGPlxp8/s400/christmasblood_19.png" width="400" /></a>
While Santa runs amok killing kids, mostly off screen, Hansen and Rasch are forced to take a bus to the scene of the crime, as for some inexplicable reason, they don't have a car. Is this supposed to be a comedy? Is this supposed to be a satire of the genres? The IMDb says it's a straight horror movie, so it must be true. (Spoilers incoming) Once they discover the blood-soaked house that the surviving girls have fled from, Rasch drugs Hansen so he can take down Santa by himself. Because he did that so well last time (it took 13 years, as you will recall). Of course while Rasch is looking for Santa so that he can shoot him again (because <i>that </i>worked so well last time), Santa inexplicably teleports to where Hansen is unconscious and kills him, and then inexplicably teleports to another part of town where two of the surviving girls have fled. I say "teleports", because he clearly has no method of transportation, not even a sleigh, and yet manages to be everywhere at once. Then again he is walking around with a bullet hole in his center of his head, so I guess teleportation doesn't seem all that far fetched. All of this non-excitement leads up to a shakey-cam finale where Rasch shows up just in time to shoot the hell out of Santa while he is trying to kill one of the girls. The end... or is it? In the final frame we see Santa is still alive, in silhouette against the night sky. Roll discredits.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgaVeGqK80JwCztTVdwbDDJHNgmXkuYnBnkbhpMU1Pk-vKDeBajZxwkxwsH_flQOtFkgL0yS4jnzduMZzaDrtcJ-qhrWYv-QgcCZW4-J9D21kC4CRC5d2WS5wH5E9PaAeetSr27sNxyAo/s1600/christmasblood_23.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="808" data-original-width="1600" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgaVeGqK80JwCztTVdwbDDJHNgmXkuYnBnkbhpMU1Pk-vKDeBajZxwkxwsH_flQOtFkgL0yS4jnzduMZzaDrtcJ-qhrWYv-QgcCZW4-J9D21kC4CRC5d2WS5wH5E9PaAeetSr27sNxyAo/s400/christmasblood_23.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Directed by the ironically named Reinert Kiil, there are so many moments where I wanted to just overlook the mangled attempt at flashing back and forward in time, the ridiculous common sense failures, the rambling tangents, fumbled attempt at creating a franchisable slasher character, and a video filter that is so dark, it's impossible to see what appear to be some reasonably well executed effects. I really wanted to enjoy the genre mash-up which is completely in my wheelhouse, but Kiil manages to throw in so many stumbling blocks for himself to trip over, when we finally get to the end, it's a rather tedious chore to get through the obvious, glacially paced finish. This is Kiil's latest feature length effort having previously directed FUCK NORGE (2004), WHORE (2009) and INSIDE THE WHORE (2012), which is his meta effort that is a horror film about a film crew working on a horror film titled WHORE. Maybe I lucked out on this one after all.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSZ6oEouvYi0HD3KTUHlu2ZUjea29Mxn1G3EmKfqRXDzpTxKK1erMuRULx1YAA4ixW9DCQZACN6jf9jkE6xD9W0rIywKO1F-0KMJGt4GOJrt8UzLfS42gizAaFZKTrXGnyqRiNXgeSfc/s1600/christmasblood_7b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="739" data-original-width="1600" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSZ6oEouvYi0HD3KTUHlu2ZUjea29Mxn1G3EmKfqRXDzpTxKK1erMuRULx1YAA4ixW9DCQZACN6jf9jkE6xD9W0rIywKO1F-0KMJGt4GOJrt8UzLfS42gizAaFZKTrXGnyqRiNXgeSfc/s400/christmasblood_7b.png" width="400" /></a>
Distributed not by our usual holiday nemesis Uncork'd, this was courtesy of repeat offender Artsploitation. The interesting thing is that while at first glance, both outfits seem to be offering the same kind of cheap, quick and careless shot on video movies in eye-catching packaging, with Uncork'd you know you are going to going to be scraping the bottom of the barrel so hard that all you are going to get are splinters. With Artsploitation there is always a hint of promise. These are the people responsible for the crushing disappointment <a href="http://www.videojunkie.org/2018/12/december-to-dismember-red-christmas-2016.html">RED CHRISTMAS (2016)</a>, an Australian movie that boasted the return of genre fan fave Dee Wallace and hideously squandered it. From a distance the thought "hey, this might actually be good" floats through your mind, like a corpse on the Hudson river. It could just be a guy talking a swim, right? Of course that's just wishful thinking, which makes the reality so much worse (though Will may argue this point after 2016's <a href="http://www.videojunkie.org/2019/12/december-to-dismember-shelved-2016.html">SHELVED</a>). From a distance, CHRISTMAS BLOOD looks like it could be a fun, creative blend of Nordic Noir and Santa Slasher. It even sports some shockingly nice camerawork, with moments of atmosphere and smooth travelling shots. Even so, all we really get is a flea-market bootleg BECK and a half-sketched serial killer of sailor-mouthed girls that has hints that he may, in fact, be a supernatural creature (or one of Krampus' minions ala 2010's RARE EXPORTS), but is almost totally unexplored, and at times even seemingly forgotten. Which, unfortunately, is exactly what this movie will be.</div>
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Thomas T. Sueyreshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01999827678453063356noreply@blogger.com0