I live in Central London, so let me count the ways I hate them. I know this is meant to be a great celebration of our national identity and a big shiny party and whatnot, but I’m a seething mass of barely disguised rage over it. As a rule, I don’t like the Olympics anyway, for various reasons that I’ll go into below. However, this time the IOC and the cretins running it have gone out of their way to be as corrupt, wasteful and embarrassing as possible.
Buckle up, this one’s stormy, because below are a handful of features of the Olympics that really try my patience.
Oh my. Well, well… ready to beg for it, Brian? Ready to crawl across the floor and plead for my juice? No? Not yet? Well, give it a few more hours, Brian. Whenever you want the pain to stop, I’ll be here. Whenever you want to stop hurting, you come to me. When the pain gets so great you think you’re turning inside-out, just ask for my juice.
I have now nearly completed something that every single B-movie junkie should aspire to finish. Today is a very special day, as I am now only 1 film from reviewing every single Frank Henenlotter film! This is some achievement, and what’s surprising is that I seem to have managed it by accident. Honestly, I wasn’t intending to intentionally watch every single one of his films, even if the subject matter did appeal to me, but nevertheless, I am on the verge of completing this miraculous achievement. Today’s effort, Brain Damage (Called Elmer in some places) is the penultimate one, and what an absolute cracker of a film.
Contains “Drugs are Bad” messages and spoilers below.
Apologies for the late posting of this, but work has been kicking my arse.
Well, the mission to watch the worst list of films imaginable continues. Just Pillow Talk goes on holiday to Thailand in Danny Boyle’s dismal The Beach, a film based on a hugely overrated book by Alex Garland starring a completely miscast Leonardo DiCaprio.
Me, I hate this film, but let’s see how he got on, he seems to have fallen in love though. Read More…
Ever heard of the trickle-down effect?
Jarv’s Rating: 2 Changs out of 4. Nowhere near as funny as it thinks it is, but compared to some of the slashers that I’ve seen recently it is at least passable.
This is a bloody strange piece of schlock. Seriously, it’s like a group of B-list types gathered together, got completely off their tits, and then decided to make the dumbest slasher movie that they could. Seriously, the cast to this is, well, brilliant for this type of film: Thomas Jane, David Arquette, Courtney Cox, Jason Mewes, Richard Gross, Luke Haas, Paz de la Huerta, Balthazar Getty and so forth. I mean, really, what the fuck? What are all these people doing in an immensely stupid film about hippies at a shitty Burning Man knock-off getting slaughtered by a lunatic in a shitty Reagan Mask? I mean, seriously, what the fuck is going on in the world? Read More…
Seeing as we have been so intellectual recently, I thought I’d kick off the first of my “difficult” Underrated reviews. Performance is a strange choice, in that it has reams and reams of critical praise, but at the same time, who apart from me has actually seen it? It’s described as seminal, a precursor to Lynch and an early and important work by Nicholas Roeg and Donald Cammell. Incidentally, Cammell was a seriously fucked up dude and the story goes that as he was dying he asked for someone to bring him a mirror so he could watch himself shuffle off the mortal coil. Weirdo.
Once again, continuity is abandoned in a Leprechaun sequel. By this point in the series, this should really be expected. I do have to admire the inventiveness of the writers. It’s like they sat down, got a bit high, and then thought “You know, it would be fucking funny to do a film with our little cod-Irish magic midget in Compton. This is an absolutely smashing idea, and they don’t fuck it up at all- Leprechaun in the hood is every bit as good, if not better, as Leprechaun in Space, albeit far less insane. It doesn’t even make a pretence at horror this time out- there’s no grotesque monsters, the deaths are laughable rather than frightening, and much of the fun of the film comes from pure comedy rather than inept horror. Read More…
Through my sheer exhaustive dedication to procrastination, my thunder has once more been stolen by Jarv’s review (found here). His is a good review, and he makes many of the same points that I was going to. So while touching on those briefly, I will try to make this a review that works alongside his one, so as not to repeat and bore you all to tears.
“You’re the worst kind of prostitute!”
Jarv’s Rating: 1 Chang
This is an interesting entry for the vault, being as it’s obviously tacky as Blackpool, but isn’t in all honesty that bad. It’s certainly not sexy, and I don’t even think it’s especially sacrilegious.
Nunsploitation, eh? I mean, I can see why this is obviously a good idea for the Italian filth merchants of the 1970’s, what with it combining fetishism with catholic guilt, but they’re usually pretty uninteresting borderline porn.