The Butcher – Over-hyped Korean torture film that’s trying way too hard to shock and gross out — so much so that it becomes a laughable mess. It also desperately pilfers tropes from a bunch of gore pictures, also to no real ends. I would be embarrassed to even have my name associated with this inept production.

Trick ‘r Treat – You know what? I really liked it. Certainly, most horror anthology films aren’t exactly brilliant and, mostly, neither is this one. But, it’s fun and spooky and could end up getting pulled out every so many Halloweens for future viewing. And who doesn’t have lurid fantasies of Anna Paquin dressed as Little Red Riding Hood? A solid rent, possibly a buy. (Also, not to be confused with Trick or Treat, the 1986 heavy metal horror masterpiece. See that one, too, by the way.)

Murder Loves Killers Too – A highly unoriginal premise (teens stay in cabin, run into killer, get picked off one by one), but the killer in this one is so darn charming and quirky and occasionally funny that he carries things along to an entertaining end. Some will enjoy the rental.

Night of the Creeps – I’ve got good news and bad news for you, readers. The good news is that this classic ’80s sci-fi/horror flick got a new DVD release. The bad news? Well, there isn’t any! But, prepare to bow to the mesmerizing machismo of Tom Atkins as he investigates zombie-creating alien slugs making a mess of his town. Oh, yes. It is indeed Miller time! First rent, then BUY!

The Hills Run Red – The plot is clever in parts, hackneyed in others. And the acting, often enough, is fairly wooden and phoned-in. Barring that, it’s an acceptable slasher-in-the-woods movie for a casual renting. William Sadler’s in it, and that’s probably the best part of the picture. Other than that, nothing particularly amazing here.

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Surveillance – A crime thriller directed by Jennifer Lynch, daughter of David Lynch. I mention that because her father’s influence is there, but the former very much makes a movie that’s also her own (with a bit of a Coen Brothers vibe, as well). Differing accounts of an accident given to two FBI agents shed light on a string of murders in New Mexico, providing some plot twists — some predictable, some very much not. Worth watching.

Mum and Dad – We’ve seen the killer family before, from Spider Baby to Texas Chainsaw Massacre to Mother’s Day to Frontiers, etc. This certainly follows some established territory, bringing in the gore but also with some laughs. If you’re not completely tired of this set-up, then you might enjoy this. It has its moments, but not in spades.

Grace – Comparisons to It’s Alive will be made, but it’s fair to say that this bloodthirsty zombie baby is actually rather creepy and the storyline keeps your attention. The premise might sound hokey, but the execution is surprisingly good. Decent gore and well-shot. Check it out.

Book of Blood – Following the not-so-great Midnight Meat Train comes another Clive Barker story that doesn’t successfully translate to the Big Screen — this one, being a haunted house tale with a twist. It’s not utterly horrible but it’s in no way good, either. It feels like a mediocre Masters of Horror episode, if you have that little reference in mind. Will someone please take a Barker tale and make a movie on it that comes even reasonably close to the masterpiece that is Hellraiser? Please? He deserves better than this.

Irreversible – This is viewing number two for this one, just making sure I disliked it as much as the first time. And I did. Characters you don’t care about, a story that plods along (albeit, in reverse), obnoxious camerawork, and an extended rape scene for shock. Big deal. France has given us much better offerings this decade, to be sure. This movie tries too hard and ends up pretentious and empty.

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Donkey Punch – An unfortunately stupid name for a movie because the actual film is not too bad. Seven young people take a nice boat out on the ocean, one of them accidentally dies from titled sexual practice, and then the fun begins. Who turns on whom? Who’s in it for themselves? Who plays hero? Well, see the film and find out.

Shuttle – Two not entirely bright or likable college gals jump an airport shuttle along with a few others and find themselves the hostages of at least one desperate man. Nice plot shifts, opening up to a deeper storyline towards the end. These shuttle passengers are occasionally pretty dumb, but I’ve come to grips with that being the reality of most people. Seriously rent it.

Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead – Haven’t seen a Troma film yet? Well, if you want a crash course in gratuitous use of nudity, loads of laughs, absurd levels of gore and disgusting stuff, and the occasional musical moment, you should give this one a chance. Director Lloyd Kaufman is one savvy Z-movie Hebrew, and he throws all of the tricks of the trade into this one. Clever character names, sacred cows roasted en masse, and all of the schoolboy humor you’d expect from Troma. Yes, you should see it. Unless you’re chicken or something.

The Tenant – Have an urge to see Roman Polanski in full drag? Well, you will if you see this, the third of his “apartment trilogy” — alongside Repulsion and Rosemary’s Baby. A seemingly timid man moves into an apartment in which the previous tenant purportedly killed herself. Mania, hallucinations, role playing, and paranoia set in and it’s all a barrel of good times from there. Highly recommended.

The Last House On The Left (2009) – A band of fun-loving miscreants rape one girl and kill another, all to find themselves seeking shelter in the home of the violated female’s parents. Remake of the Wes Craven film, but makes the mistake of having the raped girl live, changing the entire point of the movie. Some jarring moments here and there (including the obvious one), but with a somewhat silly final scene. Still, worth a casual viewing as a standard popcorn flick.

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Throughout human mythology, the Devil, in all of his guises, has possessed (pun intended) an immense sense of humor. Through such manifestations as Loki and Coyote, the capacity for tricks and laughter has been keenly aligned with the Satanic for millennia. In stark contrast, the fictionalized character of Jehovah is far too busy smacking humanity on the wrists at every possible turn for being themselves to have even a smidgen of humor inside of him. Simply stated, the Biblical god is no fun.

Church of Satan Reverend Bill M. knows these facts as well. He also knows that there is a wealth of comedy and novelty music that has a whole lot more to do with the Satanic philosophy than most purportedly upstanding citizens would like to discover or admit. Gathering up the best bits from all of the clown princes of Hell, a show of hilariously diabolical proportions is born. And its name is The Devil’s Mischief.

True to its moniker, TDM keeps it carnal in all matters funny. From thoughtfully sinister routines by such greats as George Carlin, Doug Stanhope, Lewis Black, David Cross and numerous others all the way to classic and sometimes forgotten gems of yesteryear including those of Groucho Marx, Bob Newhart, Spike Jones, Weird Al, Steve Martin and more. And Bill certainly makes sure that content is varied, almost never repeating the same clips twice — except perhaps for his occasional themed episodes, which have included such brilliant motifs as the Gay Eskimo episode, the Anti-Valentine’s specials, the Best of Blasphemy, and those darned Banana shows. Ring-ring-ring, indeed.

Making regular appearances on the roster of Radio Free Satan for many years now, you can certainly listen to the show from their site, or download it from there or from TDM’s iTunes page — though, in the last instance, only the most recent episode appears on iTunes due to RFS’s primitive use of RSS, so download it from there quickly before the following week comes, if that’s your choice. But, you should definitely tune in. It could mean your immortal soul… or missing out on some really funny jokes. You decide.

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Despite the flow — yea, overflow — of information provided by the Internet, many cultures are still slow to shake off the vestiges of the political correctness which ran amok in the 1990s. And that decade’s coddling and oversensitivity of its children have brought us a generation mired in what the late, great George Carlin would likely call the “pussification” of the masses. If you care, it’s mighty sad. But, if you don’t, then it’s boot party time upon all of the sacred social cows out there, and few take upon that awesome task better than the crew of Hate Speech Radio.

Even the very name brings forth the knee-jerk cringe from those trying way too hard not to offend someone, anyone, EVERYONE! It’s funny how a mere pairing of words can bring out the self-righteous indignation in less than intelligent sheep. Really funny. Hilarious, even. In fact, I’m willing to bet that HSR is banking on that very fact and I hope their coffers fill to the brim with profits from the unwitting press their name, and their content, gets them.

Yes, content. Surely, the show can’t be a merely provocative moniker. And it isn’t. Show hosts David Harris, Heather Height, Mersh, and that Jewish kid bring you the irreverent funny every Sunday at 6p on BPS Radio and Lose The Radio, as well as right to your podcatcher through iTunes. Issues abound, including those of race, politics, social taboos, general stupidity in the culture, and, like many podcasts, you get to know the hosts very well. Were I to invoke a Partridge Family comparison, I’d say to think of Dave as Danny, Heather as the Mom, Mersh as Keith, and Evan… well, how about… Reuben? Are you a little too young for this reference? Well, you do have an Internet in front of you, now don’t you? Get to it, youngins!

And get yourself a earful of Hate Speech Radio. A dysfunctional, caustic, offensive, and completely FUN earful. Three cheers for hate!

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Friday The 13th (2009) – Having unfortunately seen it in the theaters, I later rented it to see if it really was as bad as I remembered. And it is. Terribly structured script for any genre, but especially horror. Derek Mears as Jason was rather impressive, but he’s stuck in a dud storyline that’s full of logical holes, lame characters, bad acting, and a predictable ending. Director Marcus Nispel comes from a music video background and it shows, lacking the insight and appreciation necessary to have effectively tackled this almost doomed to failure project.

There Will Be Blood – Usually, I steer clear of westerns, but maybe I’m in the mood to give them half a chance. And P.T. Anderson’s film might have been the motivator. Stellar acting, engrossing plot, a bit gritty, and, yes, there’s a milkshake involved. For once, the hype actually reflects reality.

Blood Diamond – Typically hate DiCaprio on sight, but am willing to give him a pass for this movie. Despite the somewhat corny ending, this one’s got action, oppression, corruption, forced labor, and, of course, some of the shiny stuff. Oh, and Jennifer Connelly, if you still have some leftover fantasies attached to her from the 1980s… like I do. Not as hippie, feel-good, leftist, or preachy as I thought it might be. I liked it, but I wouldn’t marry it. Unless you gave me a ring possessing a rock mined from the slavery of starving laborers. Then, we’ll talk.

[REC] – I know how so many genre fans love this movie, but I’m going to cry blasphemy here and say it: the American remake (“Quarantine”) was BETTER. This version is far too self-aware, overacted, overuse of shaky-cam, and slightly lacking in the dialogue. Its perks, however, include some honestly creepy moments, a wee bit of claustrophobia in the shots, and an overall good premise. See it first with expectations set to low, then check out the remake.

The Haunting In Connecticut – If jump scares were pussy, then this film is a coked-up Tijuana hooker on a Friday night during shore leave. Yes, yes, I get it. You want me to be shocked every 3 minutes, but it gets old after the first five or six attempts. This movie tries way too hard to be startling, and takes a lot of cliches down with it. Some of the acting was okay, though. But, the question remains: Why not just LEAVE THE HOUSE?!

Martyrs – A revenge tale with some odd twists, easing you first into the story and then sledgehammering you with the main conflict. Torture, blood, death, rinse, repeat. Another notch in the belt of French gore, with the last 20 minutes or so being a point of contention with genre fans. Definitely see it.

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If I’m ever to engage in viewing trashy cinema, I like to think I have some standards. In a world that seems to be handing itself over to those least worthy of life, it’s good to establish and maintain some highly placed expectations reflective of a discriminating mind. That is to say that I like gratuitous female nudity, some torture, a little bit of captivity, a heap of exploitation, and a smattering of senseless violence. These days, it’s tough to find all of those wrapped up in a perfect movie, so you have to go back a bit. Say, to 1986?

Yes, 1986! The very year that gave us the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion and gave me freedom from the virtual prison that was high school also gave us Reform School Girls. And I am a better man for it.

Our grand excuse for T&A begins with Jenny (played by Linda Carol, who was either 15 or 16 when she disrobed and feigned sex for this one) getting caught by the law for her inadvertent participation in a crime. Since she’s young and naughty (and hot), she must be sentenced to slutty teen girl prison. Though the movie calls it a reformatory, we know what it really is. In the words of Adrian Zmed: “Start yer boners.”

We meet other incorrigibles in this women-in-prison send-up as well. Jenny befriends Lisa, a scared, shy little runaway whose later defilement is either shocking or sexy, pick your kink. Both girls are trying to stay out of the way of Edna (played by the late Pat Ast), the prison matron, who has a taste for “new fish” as well as kitty stomping. Other not-very-nice people include Charlie (Wendy O. Williams, also no longer with us), the leader of a secret girl gang behind the iron, looking for action any way they can get it. (For my fellow Friday The 13th fanatics, both of Charlie’s hench-hotties are played by actresses found in the fifth and sixth installments of the FT13 franchise.) And, of course, how could you have a movie like this without Sybil Danning as the warden? You can’t, so she’s in there, too.

It’s got plenty of naked flesh, potty mouth, fisticuffs, forced branding, steamy showers, accidental death, a burning teddy bear, one bad ass riot, music mostly by Wendy O (with the end credits song actually being a KISS-penned track previously unreleased)… oh, and a fire hose. Guess where it goes?

I could not recommend this utterly deplorable, anti-social and sleazy slab of cinematic filth enough.

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When I was barely junior high age, a certain magazine began its publishing, filled to the brim with news and pics documenting the horror movies I was otherwise too young to be able to see. Having been that age during the pre-VCR days, and cable TV not being as ubiquitous and varied as it is now, my outlets for my burgeoning horror fandom were limited. Sure, there was Creature Double Feature every Saturday afternoon on the once-mighty Channel 56 in Boston, but I needed more. So, Fangoria came to my aid and provided that Monster Kid with all sorts of gruesome images and nasty tidbits on what was then assigned to me as forbidden through the barrier of the R rating.

But, then I grew up and Fango moved into more commercial territories, seemingly more concerning with “Hollywood” horror than much of the scarier, more independent, and less studio-influenced stuff. It was a sad departure, though I still glance at the occasional copy at the newsstand, discovering a salient article every so many issues. Just not enough to re-subscribe.

I suppose all of this backstory must have a purpose. And that’s to segue to Fangoria Radio. Also available on some satellite radio station (a phenomenon I see no point in paying for), it is, for the sake of this analysis, a podcast mirroring much of what Fango tries to do in its modern print incarnation. Hosted by Dee Snider (of Twisted Sister, and PMRC, fame), Debbie Rochon, and Fangoria editor, Tony Timpone, Fangoria Radio mostly interviews people in and around horror. Sometimes, they score the folks I really want to hear from, such as Tom Savini, H.G. Lewis, Sam Raimi, and other instrumental individuals of horror. But, you have to wade through the muck of trendier and safer “horror” fare consisting of so-called actors and incompetent directors who continue to churn out glossy, CGI-laden pap that feels more like bad TV writing stretched to feature length but with some blood thrown in… sometimes. So, expect to hear chatter from worthless and disposable faces here and there. Of course, the nice thing about podcasts is that you can pick and choose which episodes you want to hear. See something you like in the description line? Then grab it and ignore the rest.

The show hosts, while quite competent and even entertaining, are having to do a whole lot of glad handing. That is to say that, I suspect, the choice of interview guests is made more out of commercial interests than a love of the genre. Yes, I said it. I’m convinced that why we hear more about the pointless remakes and the purely studio creations populated with television teens and less about solid, scary, and well-scripted films has a whole lot to do with pleasing advertisers — an indirect form of payola, if you will. And that’s reflected in both the print and podcast forms of Fango.

I do wholeheartedly recommend the episodes in which REAL horror is being investigated. But, again, expect some filler episodes. A lot of filler.

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Back in 1998, there was a wrestler who ran for governor of Minnesota. You might remember him. With his bleach-blond hair and feather boa, Jesse “The Body” Ventura had a good gimmick running as a WWF superstar, and then somehow got into the good graces of Minnesotans and became their elected official. Who knows, maybe he had some charisma and charm to back him up. Though, the same could not be said for another ex-wrestler vying for the governor’s seat in the Land O’ Lakes. Yes, another one.

Impaler is a documentary that tells the tragic story of Jonathon Sharkey, who also took a shot at said political office in 2006. And while his platform varied from the radical to the unrealistic, it was his self-promotion as a “Hecate Witch, Satanic Priest, and Sanguinary Vampire” that makes this cautionary tale both cringeworthy and entertaining — the latter, in a way that any self-perpetuated human train wreck might entertain.

Of course, Sharkey is in no way an actual Satanist. Given his sidestepping of the law, his general irresponsibility, and his total lack of accurate self-examination, he falls off that map pretty quickly. His statement that MySpace is full of Satanists is also pretty telling of someone who confuses horror movie imagery and screwed up kids into dark music subculture as actual Satanism. In other words, he’s no doubt well at home in that social network’s cesspool filled with cretins who believe the “S” word can be tacked onto anything Mom and Dad are afraid of. Annoying at 15. Simply pathetic at 42.

What really turns the laugh-o-meter to 11 on this one is Sharkey’s juvenile parading of his so-called vampiric lifestyle. The level of goofy pretentiousness coming from him and his blood-sipping girlfriend is staggering, like grade-school kids who want you so badly to look at them and pay complete attention to their translucent grasp for importance. In fact, once you get over the overt pandering rampant in this documentary, you see the portrait of a deluded and powerless individual who struggles to escape his white trash background by donning cloak and fangs and claiming himself someone unique and worthy of serious consideration. Sadly for him, his schtick is as obvious as they come.

His schtick, of course, poorly masks the disaster that is his real life, and the documentary brings that out as well. Sharkey ultimately ends up in shackles and an orange jumpsuit, his girlfriend files a restraining order against him, boastful lies he created to puff himself up now deflate for all to see, and the doc’s conclusion finds this sad vampire clown guzzling whiskey and playing with guns in the trailer park, where he no doubt belongs.

So while this barely-produced movie has absolutely nothing to do with Satanism or vampirism or even literal impaling, it is a revealing account of one man’s clueless attempt to exceed beyond his abilities, to fail miserably at it, all to fall back to a familiar mediocrity and still not seem to know what happened or why. It is subject matter ripe for being documented, and this one does a somewhat competent job — which is to say that it rides more on its story than on the means by which it’s told. You’ll wince. You’ll chuckle. You might even be able to relate Sharkey to the mass of other largely-Internet driven losers who desperately cry for notice and some sort of suspect lordship over troubled idiots online.

And then, you’ll forget all about him.

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This previously obscure Dario Argento cult film has had its run through the bootleg market. But now, it’s available in a fairly decent print laid to DVD. So, is it worth the wait for giallo fans, hungry for more ’70s Italian psycho-thriller goodness from this pre-horror period of Argento? Put a few drinks in me and I’d say yes, but with some strong caveats.

Our story begins with Roberto, a musician who is being stalked by a stranger. When he gains the opportunity to confront his stalker, he accidentally kills the man in the struggle as someone in the theater’s balcony takes pictures and flees, leading Roberto to the idea that the scene was all pre-arranged. The next day, Roberto receives the pics in the post — is it blackmail, harassment, or worse? Will the musician find out before he too is dead? Since this is a giallo, and everyone in a giallo loves to play detective, then it’s fair to say that he’s on the case.

Four Flies On Grey Velvet is grouped in name only as part of the “animal trilogy,” which also includes Cat O’Nine Tails and The Bird With The Crystal Plumage — the last of which considered by many, including myself, as the best of the three. Yes, Four Flies has its flaws. The quack scientific exposition on a killer’s face being imprinted on the eyes of its victim is pretty laughable. Though, in all fairness, giallo occasionally takes some liberties with the facts. The Morricone score is enjoyable and nowhere near the distraction that Argento’s typical score choice (Goblin) often is. The movie starts strong, but winds down to a slower pace after. It’s a little uneven as a result, and it doesn’t take any real chances. The story is reasonably entertaining but don’t expect anything particularly grand.

I would probably recommend this movie more to fans of Argento’s work, as there are better offerings both by this director and within the genre itself. This is all before such Argento classics as Deep Red and Suspiria, which nicely led his career down the horror path many of us know so well. Seemingly, these later gems were probably the result of what Argento learned from his earlier efforts, so that might provide a curiosity factor for genre fans to check out this film. If you’re just coming into giallo, I would probably have you steer clear of this as your introduction. All and all, a mixed bag for most and more interesting to the fans.

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