Cyber Monday: Project Shadowchaser Trilogy

Frank Zagarino dies hard!

Cinemasochism: Black Mangue (2008)

Braindead zombies from Brazil!

The Gweilo Dojo: Furious (1984)

Simon Rhee's bizarre kung fu epic!

Adrenaline Shot: Fire, Ice and Dynamite (1990)

Willy Bogner and Roger Moore stuntfest!

Sci-Fried Theater: Dead Mountaineer's Hotel (1979)

Surreal Russian neo-noir detective epic!

Saturday, September 27, 2014


Hard to believe it has been four years since our coverage of Indiana Jones rip-offs.  We set out to cover everything under the sun, from animated movies to Italian carbon copies to adult features.  While it was exhaustive (and exhausting), we still left quite a few relics unearthed knowing we would get to them one day.  One group of treasures was the XXX series of ‘80s INDIANA JOAN flicks, scarce thanks mostly to the ancient technology format known as VHS. Given that we are video archaeologists as dogged as Dr. Jones himself, we finally found a copy of the first feature, INDIANA JOAN IN THE BLACK HOLE OF MAMMOO (1984).  And having watched it, we kind of wish we had a Belloq-type rival who would snatch it from our hands before we could watch it and taunt, “There is nothing you can possess which I can not take away.”  Please take it away! Please!

The film opens with a long held shot of the wake of boat as the credits unroll over some stock tribal music.  We then get a “somewhere in an African coastal village…” segue that brings us to a cheap cave set where a witch doctor (Melvin Ward) and one of the female villagers (Satin Summer) speak in some made up language.  He points to his crotch and we quickly jump into our first sex scene four minutes in.  Following this coupling, we cut to three people in a life boat, leaving it to the audience to infer that the opening boat footage somehow involved them.  It appears these are survivors from a boat wreck (again, we never see it) and they include Joan (Barbie Dahl), her father imaginatively credited as Daddy (George Payne), and Captain Jim (Michele LeBouef, no relation to Shia but probably a better actor).  Somehow this wreck is all her fault as her dad admonishes her adventurous ways by saying, “We should have stay in Indiana, Joan.”  Wah-wah-wahhhh!  Driven near mad from the lack of water, Joan begins to hallucinate. We know this because onscreen text says this:

Director Vince Benedetti isn’t leaving anything to chance.  His big mistake is he assumes his target audience can read.  Anyway, her hallucination is having sex with Captain Jim.  Jeez, you’d think her imagination would pick a better looking guy.

After this laborious scene (that ends with Joan masturbating with an oar; alas it is faked, my dear oar sex lovers) the survivors spot land and begin rowing toward it.  Naturally, the natives are restless and they are greeting by two spear-wielding female natives (they are billed as Amazons, despite this taking place in Africa).  In the film’s lone unintentional highlight, watch as one girl winces when she throws her spear, afraid it might hit the video camera.  We assume one of these weapons hits Daddy since he is on the ground in the next shot in pain.  Yes, Benedetti couldn’t be bothered to show something as simple as a spear hitting someone.  Joan and Jim split while Daddy gets a spear in the gut – via the age-old “stick it by my side” technique – for his trouble.  Our leads make it to another cheap cave set and Jim soon discovers (by walking two feet) that this is a diamond mine.  Oh snap, sudden wealth means only one thing – we need to fornicate as the characters dive into the film’s third sex scene.  “I’ve been dreaming about this for days,” says Joan in the flattest tone ever.  Now I really must credit the performers here as this entire scene takes place on a bed of hay and I can’t imagine that being comfortable at all.  Once Joan and Jim get their fill, the two African ladies with spears show up.  One of them is enamored by the sight of a white woman and we quickly move into our fourth sex scene as Joan and Amazon #1 (Hazel Scott) make out and Amazon #2 orally services Jim.

Nice Nikes:

Meanwhile (this film seems to have a lot of those), back at the first cheap cave set, the witchdoctor starts fondling the body of Joan’s surviving mother (Sarah Bernard). Again, creativity reigns supreme as she is named Mother.  With his dildo-topped staff, he sprinkles some powder on her and keeps saying “unka dunka.”  This invites Mammoo (Creole Mann), the tribe chief, for a three-way.  We just assume he is the tribe chief since his name is in the title.  After this ménage à trios, the two female villagers arrive with their prisoners.  Mother has adapted quickly as she is feeding Mammoo a banana (booooooo!) as he sits on his throne, looking a bit like Baron Samedi from LIVE AND LET DIE (1973).  Mammoo examines the white beauty and Mother quickly breaks it down for her daughter by saying, “You better get used to this, honey. In this place you either give head or lose it.”  Oddly enough, I hear that is also the mantra around Bryan Singer’s office.

“Nope, no cavities here.”

Joan gives in and starts giving the chief a blowjob, which results in a full blown (haha) orgy involving all of our players. The film slogs to a climax as everyone does a mambo line out of the cave set and Joan stops to flash her rear. The end.

Unka dunka indeed.  Our first foray into the Dr. Jones XXX parody was CAROLINA JONES AND THE BROKEN COVENANT (2008).  Little did we know that it would look like a masterpiece compared to this first Indiana Joan offering.  I’ve often bemoaned the state of current XXX parodies being nothing more than glorified adult cosplay, with the actors having sex while dressed up in costumes.  Sadly, this seems to be an age old problem in the adult industry. THE BLACK HOLE OF MAMMOO earns respect for being the first to cash in on the adventures of Dr. Jones, but that is about it.  If anything, it is just another case of missed opportunity.  How lazy is this film?  They actually never have Indiana Joan handle a whip like on the cover.  And the film isn’t whip-less as one of the native females carries one in one scene.  Perhaps Benedetti didn’t trust Dahl to handle anything other than a penis?  Then again, maybe I’m just an idiot for expecting creativity from the guy who made FOOT FUCKIN’ FREAKS 2 (2001)?  His ROMANCING THE BONE from the same year must be better, right?

Coupling its laziness is the dreaded cousin cheapness.  Look, I know you aren’t working with the millions Spielberg and Lucas had on RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK (1982), but is it possible to find more than two cheap cave sets to set your action?  Amazingly, the movie’s biggest attempt at production value is an end credit that claims it was partially filmed in Madagascar.  Uh, no.  I bet they couldn’t even locate Madagascar on a map.  Oh wait, I can’t locate it on a map either.  All would be forgiven if Benedetti offered up some hot action between the stilted dialogue scenes on cheap sets.  But even that is a missed opportunity.  I know what you are thinking – 1984 and shot-on-video?  This has to have some vintage babes in it, right? Sadly, this is not the case.  Dahl is alright in the lead, but the director has filled the cast with some rather unsightly folks.  Even worse, the sex scenes are so poorly filmed, mostly a combination of clinical close ups of body parts thrusting that drift in and out of focus (see pic above).  For example, the threesome scene never actually features a wide shot with all three performers in the shot at the same time.  Yeah, I’m demanding, I know.  It is about as erotic as watching a film on the motion of pistons.  The only thing I can imagine that is more dreary than watching this is probably reading my review of it.

Not surprisingly, Benedetti revived the Indiana Joan name five years later when INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE (1989) came out.  Dahl was long gone so the whip was passed to one Porsche Lynn in THE RETURN OF INDIANA JOAN and INDIANA JOAN AND THE GOLDEN TRIANGLE. We currently have top men out looking for them.  Top…men.

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Carpocalypse Now: WATER WARS (2011)

The late, great Cirio H. Santiago sadly passed away while making another post-apocalyptic actioner. Honestly, if you have to go, I think that is a great way to do it. Some fantasize about going out in bed with a hooker, but to each his own.

Unfortunately for the film that meant that Santiago had only five days of shooting completed (which come to think of it is probably about a third of his shooting schedule). Long time financier Roger Corman turned to the man who, for better or for worse, is now known for making softcore DTV quickies in a matter of days, Jim Wynorski. Regardless of your views on the merits or lack there of, of DINOCROCK VS. SUPERGATOR (2010) or THE BREASTFORD WIVES (2007), Wynorski's early work boarders on genius. Films like the amazing THE LOST EMPIRE (1985) and CHOPPING MALL (1986) will always have a place of honor in our video shelves. On the other hand, his directing style couldn't be more in contrast with Santiago's. With little money and resources Jim Wynorski shot extra scenes and used stock footage from Santiago’s previous wasteland outings including STRYKER (1983), RAIDERS OF THE SUN (1992) and WHEELS OF FIRE (1985).

A post-nuke bikini babe Skye (Playboy Playmate Athena Lundberg), who dresses like she is from a dinosaur island, falls into the clutches of an evil overlord Bane (Michael Madsen, sounding like he’s been gargling thumbtacks and vinegar) who flaunts his evility by wearing a black leather coat in the middle of the desert wastes. He also forces his henchmen to dress like ninjas which must lead to a lot of sick days being used due to heat stroke. Bane's goal in life is not to stop The Batman as you would expect, but to hoard the world’s rapidly diminishing water supply so that he will be the most powerful man in the wastes. He will have crops and the unwashed masses will be subjugated to his will. I say "unwashed masses", but they are actually quite clean. There must be an old Purell manufacturing facility near by.

Another member of the tribe, Kenna (Playboy Playmates Monica Leigh) sets out to find someone stup- err, I mean tough enough to help her rescue Skye and get them back to their village safely. Bane even goes so far as to tie up Skye and torture her by making her watch him use a circular shop saw on some random dude. Is he betting that since she is girly, she will be so grossed out that she'll spill the beans? We may never know. After getting in a bar brawl in which her top conveniently falls open, she meets Slade (Kevin Stapleton), a neo-cowboy who just likes to drink and watch other people get killed. Clearly written for John Terlesky, Stapleton plays the reluctant savior with a deadpan delivery that makes him seem more somnambulistic than sarcastic.

Once Slade has been talked into it, he rounds up his team, a dirty half-dozen, and sets out to extract Skye. Once accomplished they head back to the village where Kenna, who apparently has had access to a lot of plastic surgery in the wastes, rewards the pasty dough-boy Slade, who should never ever have been allowed to get naked, with some jungle love by a waterfall. Of course this all leads to a showdown with Bane who is set to invade the village to secure the water for himself.

In 1983’s STRYKER it was actually kind of impressively forward thinking to figure that water would be a major commodity in a post-apocalyptic society. That idea, while now rather obvious, has been carried through-out Santiago’s wasteland epics, so it is good to see it in his final film. As of now it has still gone unofficially unreleased on video anywhere in the world. The reasons for this are as obscure as the movie itself, even Wynorski has been tight lipped on the subject, but knowing Roger Corman it couldn't be for anything other than legal reasons.

Wynorski clearly didn't have two pesos to rub together, but he does put what little he has on the screen. The climactic battle between the villagers and Bane's forces is almost all new footage and sports a full-blown firefight with plenty of automatic weapons and things that go boom. The real problem, aside from the decision to do the shakey-cam and hyper zoom thing, is that some of the footage from Santiago’s past classics seem randomly thrown in with characters and dialogue that have no connection to the story. I’m not sure whether Wynorski was trying to make us believe that these characters, who look completely different, are the same as the ones in the new footage, or whether he was aiming for a random action cut-away. Some of the clips go on way too long and should have been trimmed down or eliminated. The different filmstock and print quality is a jarring contrast to the digital video of the new footage and as much as I hate to say it, I think the movie would have been more enjoyable without it. Out of the running time of just over 81 minutes at least 20 minutes is old footage. Seems like if Corman could have thrown just a few more bucks into it, we'd have solid VOD fodder.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Newsploitation: BLOODFIST makes the list

September 1989 was apparently a prime month to unleash flicks about people being kicked in the face.  A few weeks back we celebrated the 25th anniversary for Jean-Claude Van Damme’s KICKBOXER (1989) and this week we bestow another silver anniversary (world title?) on BLOODFIST (1989), the Roger Corman produced film that looked to stake its claim in the box office bloodsport.  Not only did this film launch the last major star (of the direct-to-video era) for Corman, it also served as the impetus for what would become the most sequelized American martial arts series.

Roger Corman will always be known as much for his films as his ability to spot good actors and give them their big break in show business.  As the legend has it, Corman first spotted Don “The Dragon” Wilson, a kickboxing champion, in a profile in a martial arts magazine.  After a very successful kickboxing career that begin in the mid-70s, Florida native Wilson moved to California in the mid-80s to pursue acting, but only had a La Choy commercial and GENERAL HOSPTIAL gig (as Thug #1) to his name by the time Corman came calling.  With the aforementioned BLOODSPORT and KICKBOXER giving a resuscitating punch to the martial arts genre, Corman, never to miss out on trend he could bank on, quickly signed Wilson to a several picture deal.  The first of these pictures would be the perfectly titled BLOODFIST.

Corman’s innate ability to spot talent also extended behind the camera and he gave Concorde’s very first in-house martial arts film to the steady hand of Terence H. Winkless.  The director had previously turned in the horror film THE NEST (1988), easily cinema’s best killer cockroach movie (high praise!) and a personal fave here at Video Junkie. According to an interview Winkless did with our buddy Marty McKee, Corman approached him with the project and gave him ten days of prep time before flying off to the Philippines for production under the watchful eye of Cirio Santiago in December 1988.  Yes, ten days, less time than it takes for Tom Cruise to decide on which lifts to wear. When given the opportunity, Winkless didn’t blink (ah, boo yourself!) and he headed overseas for three months.

BLOODFIST tells the story of Jake Raye (Wilson), a retired kickboxer who is drawn to Manila after his half-brother turns up dead.  Adhering to the martial arts movie formula, the cops (including Vic Diaz) are ineffectual and Jake soon begins investigating on his own.  He soon finds out his brother was participating in a tournament of deadly combat called Ta Chang.  Naturally, he must enter the contest under the tutelage of Kwong (Joe Mari Avellana), his sibling’s old trainer, to find the killer. While checking off every martial arts cliché in the book (this is, after all, a Corman cash in), BLOODFIST actually plays with several conventions and features a few twists not commonly seen in this type of movie.  Director Winkless actually gets a lot of bang for his buck, portraying the exotic locales for all of their “stranger in a strange land” worth and even getting some nice crane and helicopter shots.  His biggest coup is undoubtedly surrounding Wilson with a legit army of fighters.  The film features several real fighters including Dutch kickboxer Rob Kaman and future star and workout guru Billy Blanks.  With each fighter introduced in the opening credits with their fighting style and international championships, it gives the film an air of legitimacy where it counts the most.  As it stands, Wilson is still the best kickboxer to ever grace the screen as a leading man.  And for a beginner, The Dragon acquits himself well.  While his high kicks will always outshine his acting ability, he is affable and believable in the role.

Corman got the film into theaters on September 22, 1989 at just 54 theaters.  To give some perspective, the weekend’s top release BLACK RAIN (1989) opened on 1,600+ screens. While the initial haul was only $89,132, the film proved to have drawing power as it went across the country over the next three months, suckering…uh, I mean, drawing in spin kick-desiring martial arts fans.  Its highest release point was on a mere 77 screens in mid-November (no doubt to celebrate my birthday) and by the end of December it had hauled in $1,770,082.  Not a blockbuster number by any figure, but it proved to be Concorde’s biggest release that year.  Yes, it did better than LORDS OF THE DEEP (1989).  It was also Concorde’s highest grossing theatrical release before being dethroned by BODY CHEMISTRY (1990) in March 1990.

Not surprisingly, Corman announced the sequel BLOODFIST II in mid-December, while the first film was still punching up dollars around the country.  It went into production in February 1990, just as BLOODFIST was hitting video via MGM/UA.  The sequel would hit theaters just over a year after the first film on October 12, 1990 and would pull in a slightly smaller haul of $1,292,323.  It is the only film in the series that continues the Jake Raye storyline as starting with BLOOFIST III: FORCED TO FIGHT (1992) the series featured Wilson as a new character in each entry.  The third film was also the last to see a theatrical release. Beginning with BLOODFIST IV: DIE TRYING (1992) Wilson would be starring exclusively in the direct-to-video market.  All together, Corman and Wilson would make 13 films from 1989-1999.  Eight of those were BLOODFIST films, with the non-Wilson sequel/remake BLOODFIST 2050 (2005) starring Matt Mullins being the ninth and final entry.  We thought about reviewing all of them here to celebrate this anniversary, but only an insane man would do that.  That said – check out Marty McKee’s rundown of all the films at his site here.

The greatest BLOODFIST poster ever:

A selection of BLOODFIST worldwide VHS covers:

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Deadly Farce: STONE COLD 2: HEART OF STONE (1997)

I can't explain why, but for some reason I have a real soft spot for football players turned actors. Jim Brown was a record-setting fullback who lead the league in rushing eight times then made some of the best action movies of the '70s. It seems that if the player is a record breaker, the better the movies. That's my theory anyway.

Brian Bosworth, in 1987, was the highest paid rookie in the history of the NFL at $11 million (as opposed to Sam Bradford of the Saint Louis Rams weighing in 2010 at $76 million). In 1988, like most football players that move into acting, he suffered a career-ending injury that forced him to retire. His screen debut was in the Craig R. Baxley directed STONE COLD (1991), which not only delivered insane action, but put together a solid supporting cast of William Forsythe, Sam Elliot and Lance Henricksen (back when he was cool). No football player could topline this movie and not come out looking good. Even Ray Rice could walk away from STONE COLD smelling like an entire flower stand. Unfortunately The Boz wasn't as careful picking out scripts as he was picking out teams in the draft (yes, he pulled an Eli Manning while Eli was still in diapers) and subsequently his acting career fell on hard times. He also sued the NFL to use his college numbers. No ego there. Come to think of it, maybe he was just a pain in the ass to work with.

HEART OF STONE, also known as BACK IN BUSINESS, is later era Brian Bosworth flick (like his gridiron career, his movie career was short too). It sure seems like a slick action outing at first. A fast-talkin’ brotha named Little Train (Guy Torry) desperately tries to warn undercover fed Tony Dunbar (Joe Torry) about a big heroin deal going down between mob boss David Ashby (Alan Scarfe) and dirty fed Emery Ryker (Brion James), before being thrown down an elevator shaft. Now Dunbar sets out to settle the score.

What? Oh yeah, Bosworth is the star. After the opening couple of minutes which make the film seem like a brainless but fun action movie, we are introduced to The Boz. 

Meet ex-cop Joe Elkhart (Boz). He’s a mechanic that likes to listen to a talk radio psychology program and discusses self-help with his overtly Jewish boss who rips off clichés like “Jews know from suffering!” just in case the dimmer bulbs in the audience don’t get it from his stagy Yiddish accent. While cheerfully dealing with his inner demons (by buying his ex-wife an expensive wedding present)  he decides to seek out his former partner Dunbar. Dunbar is now living the life, quaffing Dom and smoking cigars (that he does not keep in a humidor – poser!). Elkhart meets Dunbar to play a pick-up game of hoops on the street. This is pretty much presented in real time and at one point I started thinking that I was watching a sequel to WHITE MEN CAN'T JUMP (1992). Not only is the sequence unfathomably long, but the filmmakers decided that it would be a great idea if Boz showed up unprepared and was talked into stripping down to his boxers because he doesn’t have any proper shorts. No, I’m not making this up and have the screenshots to prove it.

After the b-ball game, Dunbar takes him out on his yacht and tells him that his life of opulence is merely his guise in an undercover operation to set up Ashby. Once on the docks they meet Dunbar’s neurotic female mechanic who is also into therapy and bonds with the Boz instantly by telling him that she is exploring her masculine side and that they should sleep together first, but not in a sexual way because “fucking can be so fucking disappointing”. Jeezus lady, did I go out with you in high school?

A full 30 minutes of buddy-buddy later, Dunbar gets his plan in gear by getting in a shoot-out in the police evidence locker with some balaclava-wearing hoods in cop uniforms, Dunbar steals a couple of keys of smack in the fray in order to set up a deal with Ashby, who in spite of being a big-time crime boss, always comes to make small-time deals in person. If anyone in this movie is in need of self help, it’s this guy. I mean seriously, you need to get over those trust issues pal so that you can manage by delegation.

One of Ashby’s goons makes Dunbar for a fed and a really well executed fire-fight breaks out (finally!). For no immediately apparent reason, Ryker shows up on a harbor dock and has his partner bust out a giant surface to surface rocket launcher to blow up Dunbar’s boat. Hey, these guys aren’t CIA, they haven’t been trained in clandestine ops. Fuck it, we’ll just blow up the boat with an anti-tank weapon in broad daylight in a public place. This makes about as much sense as a later scene in which Dunbar and Elkhart get back together after the fiasco and are jumped by two corrupt feds, who the guys shoot to death in the back yard of Elkhart’s ex-wife’s lavish house in the middle of a posh residential area at night! Not only do the neighbors not call the police, but Dunbar and Elkhart don’t even bother to vacate the premises until after they’ve gotten hammered on beer while cracking jokes from lawn chairs that overlook the corpses in the pool. No, really. Dunbar quips things like “fat-ass floater”. I dunno, maybe that would get a laugh in Ferguson.

Hey, don’t get me wrong, I can, have and will sit through dialogue that's about as sharp as a bowl of jello, but if you throw me some explosions, shoot-outs, fights or chase scenes on regular intervals you won't lose my vote. I’m not hard to please. Hell, I’ve watched damn near every Cannon movie made in the ‘80s and I can’t even count the number of Godfrey Ho flicks I’ve sat through, Obviously, I'm not a picky man. This all gets us back to the main plot of the movie in which Elkhart and Dunbar dress up in a tux and an Arab outfit so they can go to an auction and outbid Ashby on a rare Shelby that Ryker has packed full of heroin. It has to be the most convoluted drug deal in the history of crime and it is every bit as entertaining as it sounds, complete with Dunbar keepin' it real by talking pidgeon Arabic and offending pretentious white people.

Of course two words should have tipped me off to the movie's potential for badness: Philippe Mora. A name that roughly translates from the French as “cinematic mess”. I haven’t seen all of Mora’s films, but I’ve seen enough to know that his name is a bad sign unless it is followed by the name “Sybil Danning”. While the film looks great and is shot 2.35, the script, by first and last timers Ed Decatur and Ash Staley, seems to think that it is a 48 HOURS-ish buddy comedy first and foremost with long stretches of unfunny dialogue that the actors are desperately trying to rise above. Adding insult to injury, Brion James is woefully under-utilized, perhaps due to his diminishing health (in one scene he is clearly having trouble walking) as a straight-forward suit and tie bad guy who really only has a handful of short scenes. The interesting thing is that the German DVD features some extra shots of violence inserted from a workprint. These help boost the main action sequence, but do little to help out the movie as a whole. Obviously Mora was short on cash (as usual), but with some better editing and maybe cutting some of the locations to divert funds to additional action scenes, this one would never stand up to STONE COLD, but could have been a decent outing for The Boz. 

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Fangs for Nothing: NIGHT OF THE CHUPACABRAS (2011)

In the realm of legendary creatures such as vampires, werewolves and even monsters that may or may not be in possession of a soul, composed of body parts salvaged from executed prisoners, they all tend to date back into the days when stories were used to frighten children and explain away inconveniences like serial murders. Hell, even Bigfoot dates back to the 17th century, probably earlier as it was perhaps an imported version of the mythical Yeti of the Himalayas. So where is a monster for our generation? We don’t want hand me downs! This is the “me” generation, and we demand our own ridiculous superstition! In 1995 that wish was granted by Puerto Rican farmers who were looking for an explanation of why their livestock was being found drained of blood from two wounds. It only made sense that a bipedal, spiny lizard that has the face borrowed from CLOSE ENCOUNTERS, was sucking the blood out of goats. Yep, no other explanation. Soon the sightings of chupacabras were being reported in South America, Mexico and, of course, Texas because they need another reason to be elitists.

So now that we have our very own monster for our generation, how should we exploit it? Well, by making crappy home movies, that’s how! The first, to my knowledge was EL CHUPACABRA (2003), a DTV effort set in Los Angeles, that one viewer described as “89 minutes of mental violation” and BLOODTHIRST: LEGEND OF THE CHUPACABRA (2003). Following that in 2005, we had another DTV effort, CHUPACABRA TERROR (2005) which featured John Rhys-Davies in a role that won’t surprise you, and then we have the Brazilian SOV film NIGHT OF THE CHUPACABRAS. I was thinking that we may finally see something entertaining done with the creature that has become the butt of jokes on every prime-time animated show ever, but then I discovered it is from the “creative” team that brought us BLACK MANGUE (aka MUD ZOMBIES; 2008). Oh jeezus, what have I gotten myself into?

Set in the rural parts of Brazil, a barking dog wakes up a farmer (Markus Konká) who discovers his goat dead, he is certain it was killed by the devil and sets his dog loose on it, as dogs are well known for their power to stop corporeal manifestations of fallen angels who are the embodiment of all evil and who have nothing better to do than to kill a goats in the middle of nowhere.

After his city-slicker son Douglas (Joel Caetano) and his pregnant fiancée Maria-Alicia (Mayra Alarcón) come to visit, we get to meet his slightly deranged family, the Silvas, who have been feuding with the neighboring family, the Cavallos. While the father rambles about the devil, Douglas’ brothers decide to disobey their father’s wishes and bury only the dog, saving the goat to sell to the local tavern. Well, I say “tavern”, but it is simply a shack with some rickety tables that makes The Slaughtered Lamb look like Le Cirque. All of this inaction is accompanied by the flattest dialogue imaginable that appears to have come from asking 100 middle-schoolers what their favorite cuss words were. At least MUD ZOMBIES left you utterly confused by the lengthy passages of nonsensical dialogue. At least then, if you were so inclined, you could contemplate the possible meaning behind the rambling verbiage. Here it's pretty obvious that there is none.

After an inconceivably long scene of the brothers haggling with the owner, the Silva brothers silently drink in the tavern. Suddenly the Cavallo brothers take the other table and start drinking. Uhhh, yeah, it was about that exciting in the movie too, except they used a bunch of close-ups and dramatic music to heighten the tedium. Of course since the goat has been rotting for a day and has been bitten by the still unseen chupacabra, when everyone eats it, they suddenly transform into giant mutant chupacabrae and go on a rampage that… Oh no, sorry, that’s what I really wanted to happen. What does in fact happen is that the Cavallos commence to projectile vomiting streams of green liquid that is obviously not coming out of their mouths, but from the side of their heads. If you are the kind of person that thinks several long minutes of cheap vomit gags are hysterically funny, this your movie. Naturally the Cavallos use this as an excuse to start a brawl which literally takes up the next 70 minutes of the 100 minute movie. Two things here. One, I thought this movie was supposed to be about chupacabras and two, why in christ’s name does your low-rent SOV movie need to be just shy of two hours long? Just because you don't have to pay for filmstock, doesn't mean you should produce Oliver Krekel-esque epics.

The four-minute long brawl spills out of the tavern into the jungle and finally ends up back at the Cavallo house where the groups of brothers get into an extended shoot-out that leaves most of them dead and half of the audience asleep. To break up the monotony of the toy-gun fire-fight, the Cavallo women are suddenly attacked by a chupacabra! I know, who’d have thunk it? There must be a shortage of goats in the area. The fire-fight is particularly tedious due to the fact that the filmmakers didn't bother with foley work. The guns sound like they are powered by bang snaps and even the pop of the squibs are left in. Clearly nobody is really paying attention or they are trying to play it off as an intentionally "bad movie". Near the end of the shootings the Cavallos are sorting out what weapons they have left and one says "I've got a shotgun with two shells," even though he is clearly wearing a bandolier that has at least a dozen in it! Did he accidentally grab his Spencer's Gifts costume bandolier on his way out of the house?

When only a few people are left alive, we get another non-sequitur scene in which Douglas, bloody and wounded, is captured by a giggling lunatic who practices black magic and cannibalism to keep a youthful appearance. No really. Then suddenly he’s dead and it’s back to the fighting! Finally in the last 10 minutes the chupacabra joins in the death-struggle between the last two members of the families. Oh and there is a stinger ending that makes no sense in the context of what we have seen already. The real shame of this is that director Rodrigo Aragão actually sports a few nice camera angles this time out, but for the most part directs completely flat except when he's giggling the camera around during fight scenes. He also has a couple of cool latex effects that, once again, he completely obscures with darkness and a camera that can't stay still. An odd and annoying contrast to the rest of the movie.

If you have seen MUD ZOMBIES, then you will be pleasantly surprised by the upgrade in production values. This is not to say that they are particularly good, but MUD ZOMBIES was barely a notch above your garden variety German back-yard zombie video. That sense of good will rapidly diminishes when you see that Aragão does a 180 from his so-dark-you-can’t-see-anything cinematography of ZOMBIES and opts for a completely flood-lit approach that not only makes the digital medium look bad, but results in everything looking cheap and fake. Then again, nothing will help those embarrassing cap-gun-esque shoot outs. Worst of all, when they do finally bring out the chupacabra, this bright lighting highlights the flaws in what is a great looking latex costume for a low-rent SOV movie. With some more dramatic lighting, a shorter running time and oh, I don’t know, a script that made the monster the central focus, this could have been a real sleeper.