Blood Capsule #91

CHILDREN OF THE CORN IV: THE GATHERING

The best one!  The most refined sequel of the series!  "Really, Dom?"  No!  Not really!  I can't believe how many reviews I've brushed over that hail The Gathering as the summit of this pelted franchise.  Honestly, I prefer Urban Sacrifice.  Profoundly feeble-minded, yes, but at least it had energy.  It had pluck.  It moved with purpose, deluded though it was.  This flick is a downer, man.  It's so listless and lymphatic, I would believe you if you said that it's listed as a symptom of Coronavirus.*  Naomi Watts is a stupendous actress and I understand that her character bears the brunt of abject stress.  But jeezy-creezy; am I the only one, or does Naomi look like she is fucking over it at several points during the film?  There is zero joy in her performance.

There is zero joy on-screen, people.  You can tell that the entire cast wanted to be elsewhere.  Too harsh?  Possibly, but if you haven't endured Children of the Corn IV: The Gathering, I don't want to hear it.  If you have seen this blatherskite, feel free to disagree.  I can admit that the production values are adequate.  A creepy shot here and there.  Hey, I'm not capable of hating any feature starring Naomi Watts, even if it hates itself.  Next up?  I'm committed, so it's going to be Fields of Terror.  I must truly despise the face I see in the mirror.

*I am allowing myself another COVID joke.  It was either that or an abdominal aortic aneurysm.  Or dick cancer.

Rassle Inn #1

This is a wrestling column, so of course...OF COURSE I open with an image of a beautiful woman.  It's not random.  She's a professional wrestler.  It's shameful, and I'm ashamed.  But it's not random!  She's Penelope Ford, a quality "worker," in my opinion, for All Elite Wrestling.  If you're new here, I will be focusing on AEW, though irony is leaning its catawampus head over my shoulder.  I'm well aware that Wrestlemania is a mere two nights away.  Frankly, it should have been cancelled or postponed.

I get it.  I really do.  We want our entertainment, but at press time, we need our patience.  Countless calls to hold off on the event?  Vince says, "Oh, no.  We're running it twice!"  This is such a stupidly McMahon response to a solemn situation.  Will I watch?  I still own a Network account and I'm naturally curious, so yes.  I might as well.  It's going to happen whether I watch or not.  Isn't that a symptom of whatever virus Vince is hosting?  Mounting his "sports entertainment" circus regardless of extenuating circumstances?  The show must go on?  Etcetera?

His recipe, as banal as it has become, does not change.  It is impervious to ridicule.  I hate to say it, but I wonder if AEW should really be taping episodes of Dark and Dynamite right now.  This country still hasn't shut everything down.  That's going to prolong this period of communal syncope, but I don't want to tread near socio-political waters.  Eek!  That's not what I do best.  I'm much more comfortable saying that the 19-minute brouhaha between Trent and Kenny Omega was a "Match of the Year" candidate.  Loved the brutal action on the outside.  And Hikaru Shida's exchange with Britt Baker was simply awesome.

In all likelihood, I'll post comments about Wrestlemania next week.  We'll see what happens?  Excitement?  Yay?

Album Cover of the Whatever

The band?  Asunojokei.  The LP?  Awakening.  The genre?  Atmospheric black metal.  The country of origin?  Japan.  The red stuff?  Blood, maybe fire.  Ooh, feathers!  I'm thinking feathers.  Either way, it's a striking image.  Asunojokei just featured on a split with fellow atmoblackers Unreqvited.  It comes out Friday, but do start with this record.

Children of the Corn III: Urban Harvest

NOTE: I did use an African poster (Ghana, if I'm not mistaken), but that's only because...well, look at it.  It's just as zany as the film itself.  Yes, zany.  If I didn't know any better, I'd believe that modifier was created for this thing.  1995's Children of the Corn III: Urban Harvest was directed by James Hickox, brother of Anthony and son of Douglas.  It was a filmmaking family.  I'll let you decide who inherited the most talent.  Now that I've ruminated for longer than two seconds, it was probably sister Emma, an editor.  Crimeny, I'm shitting all over the poor guy and I enjoyed this vacuous kernel!  Watch your step, for there may be other corn puns potted in the soil.

The franchise moves to the big city when adopted brothers Eli and Joshua...sorry, that sounded way too much like the back of a video box.  I miss video boxes.  Anyway, Eli is the younger kin.  He's the evil one.  It takes his family a sweet while to suspect that something unnatural is astir.  What tipped you off, Joshua?  Was it the cornfield that your little bro-bro planted next to an abandoned fucking warehouse?  Seemed shady, did it?  Alright, I'll call it quits with the rhetorical questions.  This whole flick is bonkers.  The school that our children (y'know, of the corn) attend educates multiple grades, but we only ever see older teenagers.  Even if Eli's stature is on the diminutive side, his classmates come off as a wee bit mature.

Whatever.  The acting is substandard.  Heh, I guess I should explain why I prize Urban Harvest.  This is b-movie verdure, pulpy entertainment of the finest caliber.  The pacing is a breeze, the gore is squishy and every ten minutes or so, we get what I call a "spook sting."  Not quite a jump scare.  You've seen them hundreds of times.  It's when a genre nugget (and they are usually dumb nuggets) feels like it has to remind you that you're watching a horror film.  Because remember, the studio deems you doltish, and your intelligence will be insulted.  In the case of Urban Harvest, I don't mind.  It simply adds to the carnival vibe.

I can't express how easy it was to view this scroungy sequel.  I'm making it sound base and tawdry, but in all honesty, it was produced reasonably well.  Hickox is no slouch behind the camera.  Urban Harvest had the slender, yet comfortable budget that any other direct-to-video Dimension property was afforded.  It's all very felicific.  In particular, I loved the scene where Joshua's buddy is attacked by roots and stalks in a nasty, spine-stretching way.  A few of the death sequences reminded me of 1995's Night of the Scarecrow, but I'm not crying ripoff.  After all, Children of the Corn III: Urban Harvest was shot in 1993.  Why it fermented on the shelf for two years, I have no idea.

Fun motion picture.  I don't know if it's on your favorite streaming service, you entitled millennial, but hey!  HEY!  Give it a whirl.

Rassle Inn

This could/should be a new column, but I need to cool it with creating new columns.  Basically, these are my scattered thoughts on the most recent happenings within the world of AEW (All Elite Wrestling).  Do any of you remember my old, ollllllllld Parts Unknown column?  I do not wish to put spade to earth and quarry the scraps of editorials past, but I remain a wrestling humanoid (read: nerd).  For nearly two decades, there existed a void where a promotion once stood.  Once WCW was cleared out, Vince McMahon was given free rein with domestic viewers.  It was clear, however, that he could not hold onto those eyeballs.

I feel like I'm starting too wide.  I'm being too general.  For fuck's sake, all you need to know (and you may already know) is that fans were dying for something fresh to watch.  WWE programming is stale.  Formulaic.  I was going to employ blue humor, but I'll spare you.  I will neatly flank the edges of a "dry vagina" joke.  You'll never know what I almost typed!  At any twat (pull yourself together, Dom), AEW's Dynamite has a distinct flavor.  Of course, it's their flagship show, although its Wednesday night time slot pits it against NXT, WWE's third-tier brand.

Speaking of NXT, I dig it!  Quite a bit, actually.  Because I do have the WWE Network, I can watch both programs.  Overall, I prefer AEW.  This is in spite of the fact that NXT possesses the best female worker on the planet (she's in contention for "best worker," regardless of gender) - Io Shirai.  Where am I going with all of this drifting burble?  I.  Don't.  Know.

I do know that next week, I'll be far more specific with my pro-wrestling prattle.  They have probably looked into this, but does anyone know if Shirai needs a green card?

Blood Capsule #90

REIGO: KING OF THE SEA MONSTERS (2005)

You know me.  You know that I'm a kaiju nut.  So please, PLEASE take these partially positive comments with a grain of salt.  Reigo is not a good movie.  In factoid, it's barely passable as a b-movie.  The "plot" is threadbare, the special effects...fuck, I need to pause there.  If you squint at other reviews, you'll notice cracks about Playstation cutscenes.  Yeah, that's because the CGI in this ocean-set monster mash is baaaaaaaaad.  It isn't limited to the creature(s) either; no, that would be humanitarian.  The ships and explosions are also digital.  You are probably waiting for those partially positive comments, but I really needed to belabor the stodgy, downright disreputable production values.  Fuck.

See, this is how I know I'm a puerile, gorked manchild.  I had (a modest amount of) fun with Reigo.  Everything is rotten with the exception of the characters, and while it's true that the characters are very nearly rotten, they are agreeable enough to keep this miscreation afloat.  I did want to see how it concluded.  Speaking of which, I can't decide if the last 10 minutes are unspeakably awesome or vomit-inducing.  How the hell do I even describe them?  The picture shifts into kabuki mode after we learn that all of the main players die.  Oh, spoiler alert.

Etalmay

So I've been trying to think of a new metal column.  You have any ideas?  What I might do is emerge every so often with a band.  A somewhat obscure band.  Write about them, describe their sound, link to their page(s)...what should I call it?  Basically, you're doing all of the work here.  I am your crippled conduit.  Expect the first edition of this as-yet-untitled column no later than December of 2036.  The next item up for bid will be a Blood Capsule.

By the way, I'm listening to Kuarahy, the debut disc from White Stones.  Mid-tempo death metal (I've been digging an abundance of mid-tempo death metal lately) brewed, in part, by Martin Mendez of Opeth.  Solid stuff!

Album Cover of the Whatever

Vampire: Hey, did you see that Dom is doing Random Reviews again?

Werewolf: Yeah, that's cool, I guess.  But like, what's his deal?  He'll probably just go on another hiatus.

V: Hey, give the crip a break.  Him and I have a mutual buddy.  I think he's just doing it to do it.  Stress-free, y'know?

W: No, I get it.  I do like reading about weird horror movies and extreme metal.

V: You'll be glad to know that he's upping the metal quotient an iota or two.

W: I know you said you have a mutual buddy, but how do you know so much abo--wait, Dom?  Is that you?

V: Shut your fucking hole or I'll kill you!

W: Wait, what the fuck?

*The vampire fucking kills the werewolf."

V: Christ, I just killed a werewolf.  Well, now that you're dead, I'll tell you about this incredible album cover.  It's Vaisseau's Horrors Waiting in Line.  Instrumental synth-metal.  Normally, I wouldn't be into it, but I'm cool with these tunes.  Super catchy.  Reminds me of Acid Witch.  And the cover...what can I add?  It's nuts.  Hey, are you still dead?