Game of Thrones is unfairly lauded across the Internets and by bored TV critics salivating over something shiny. However, in all honesty, the second series of it hasn’t only been not very good but actually awful and quite unmeriting of the slavering adoration showered upon it.
Myself and Xi had varying opinions of the first series, in that we both liked different bits, but one thing we agreed on was that there was plenty of room for improvement, and the second series could well turn into something special. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case- and we both held the opinion that the second series is an absolute televisual atrocity.
Contains serious spoilers below- you have been warned.
The following movie has been rated “Horny Fourteen.” Pregnant women and men who already have an erection at this point in the film should leave the theater now.
I was once asked to describe a Russ Meyer film. Believe it or not, that isn’t actually the easiest thing in the world to do, and the best I could come up with was “Imagine if you’d never seen a porno before. Then imagine that you wanted to watch a full length movie with women with humongous breasts, comedy music, and occasional intentional jokes. Then imagine a bit of bloodshed thrown in to the mix, and, by the way, I’m really not joking about the ginormous juggs”. That, really, is not the best description ever written of the oeuvre of the king of sexploitation cinema, famed auteur of films such as Vixen, Up! and Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! but I do struggle to think of a better one. Basically, every Russ Meyer film that I’ve ever seen (including Ebert scripted Beyond the Valley of the Dolls) is basically notable for being stock full of women with frankly enormous boobs and I struggle to really remember anything else about them. Sadly, postmodernist dickheads (looking at you, again, cokey) have rehabilitated the old filth merchant’s reputation and he’s now some kind of worthy director. For the record, I don’t buy this- as I’ve seen Vixen and I struggle to think of anything more cack handed than the racism plot in that. Nevertheless, his body of work is now apparently groundbreaking satire (honestly), and as such Ren and Stimpy director Jonathan Yudis decided to create his very own pastiche of Meyer films in 2005’s “cult hit” Pervert!
Before I start, I’d like to thank Xi for the use of his excellent Book to Movie idea. Given the content of this mega-review, I’ll return it only slightly soiled.
Ian McEwan’s novella The Cement Garden was a novel that I read at school, and stuck with me for much longer afterwards. A haunting dreamlike novel, with a consummately unreliable narrator, it is both celebrated and reviled in equal measure. Having said that, I never for the life of me thought that anyone would be nuts enough, given it’s intensely controversial subject matter, to even attempt to adapt it for the screen. Yet in 1993 Andrew Birkin (remember that last name, it’ll be important later) took a stab at it, and turned in a haunting, lyrical, sombre little film that wasn’t afraid to look at the inherent unpleasantness of the novel’s plot.
OK, here we go. Buckle up, this one’s stormy.
I just adore raspberry pudding
Is there a more sorry genre out there than the Women in Prison films? Exploitation cinema as a rule is dirty, seedy, nasty stuff, but these exist solely to show various acts of sadism inflicted on unlikely female convicts who exist to wander round in the buff and commit various sapphic acts for the pleasure of the hooting gibbons that comprise the audience. Even in a genre as sorry as this one, and let’s face it aside from Reform School Girls, which is a spoof anyhow, they’re all tacky garbage, this 1980 slice of grindhouse schlock may possibly be the most obnoxious one out there. So, I was clearly compelled to watch it, and, this is something I never thought I’d say, Bare Behind Bars (A Prisão) eventually managed to make even lesbianism boring. How could such a thing happen?
New Year is traditionally a time for cleaning the slate, starting unrealistic resolutions that will be defunct by February at the latest (I’m talking about you, winter joggers), and wallowing in the misery of a monstrous and unpayable credit card bill. However, here in the vault, I make no promises other than that I will continue on in 2012 watching the mountain of utter rubbish that I sat through in 2011 in the hope of sifting out a few pearls from an awful amount of pig poo. So, given that I want to start the New Year in a little bit more style than I finished the old one, here’s the first entry in 2012’s Schlock Vault: Evil Aliens. Read More…
The CHAINSAWS used in this Motion Picture are REAL and DANGEROUS! They are handled here by seasoned PROFESSIONALS. The makers of this Motion Picture advise strongly against anyone attempting to perform these stunts at home. Especially if you are naked and about to engage in strenuous SEX. My conscience is clear, (signed) Fred Olen Ray.
Jarv ‘s Rating: There was no way this was going to get a low rating from me. So as a result, I give this truly hilarious little piece of grindhouse exploitation 3 Changs out of 4. This film is fucking mint, as any film about naked women wielding chainsaws as part of a lunatic cult of chainsaw worshippers that dates back to Egyptian times led by Gunnar Hansen should be. Highly, highly recommended. Get the beers in for this one, and trust me, it’s a blast.
It’s taken me a while to track this film down. I first heard about it years ago in context of a story that may or may not be Urban myth. The tale goes that one of the actresses (and Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers features three of the B-movie scream queens) broke a strike to appear in this film. By changing her name and crossing picket lines, she seriously damaged her career and was forced into even sleazier cinema as a result. The actress? Michelle Bauer, and it’s worth noting that she followed this film with a whole plethora of soft porn nonsense, from which she’s never really recovered. The point of this anecdote is to illustrate what utter fucknuts unions are, particularly unions in the creative industries, and it’s a crying shame that a decent jobbing actress working in cheap and cheerful schlock was punished like this for wanting to pay the rent. I’m, admittedly, assuming she considered it punishment. She may well have liked doing soft core porn, who am I to judge?
What’s the point of this film? Seriously, someone tell me, why does this film exist? The original Night of the Demons films were cheap and cheerful schlockfests stuffed full of boob, gore, comedy and silliness. They were also made for practically nothing, and coasted through on the charms of Amelia Kinkade as Angela, the hostess, quite literally, from hell. So, in 2009, some bright spark thought that it would be money in the bank to remake a mostly forgotten minor series, to update it for the kids in the 21st Century. Except they forgot one important thing: Night of the Demons without Amelia Kinkade is like reforming the Beatles with Julian Lennon in place of his father. Completely wrong, totally pointless and somewhat depressing. Read More…
This has been a remarkably easy series to do so far. This isn’t much of a surprise, given that the 3 original Night of the Demons movies are all basically the same film and follow a strict recipe laid out in the original: scary house + incredibly stupid teens + shitloads of gratuitous nudity and sex + gore= fun. Basically, the golden rule here is if in doubt add tits. Works for me. This second sequel, called Demon House in some parts, is the last on-screen appearance of Amelia Kinkade, who went off to telepathically train pets or some such after this, and it is to her credit that she managed to almost make Angela, demon goth queen of a schlocky B-movie series, into a memorable character. Much of the relative success of this cheesy little series is down to her turn, she’s sexy, evil, and downright comical on more than one occasion. Read More…
This series has been knocking around in my mind for a while now. I first saw the original Night of the Demons (reviewed here) and decided that I needed to see the rest. It’s a solid gold sliver of cheesy schlock, a blast from start to finish with more nudity than a strip club, thefts from seminal horror films, clichéd horror mainstays, an Edam-fest of a script, and more fun than one mind can handle. It’s also dumb as fuck. Hysterical, but unfeasibly stupid. Given that it was made for less than Michael Bay spends on lunch, and turned into something of a hit, it was only a matter of time until the attempt to cash in was made. To be absolutely fair, although it isn’t exactly screaming for a sequel, the central premise is established that these events take place every Halloween, so it isn’t too much of a leap of faith to wheel out another batch of dopey teenagers (played by actors in their late 20’s, of course) for more demonic and nudity filled frolics.