Blood Capsule #318

SKINWALKERS (2006)

Random Werewolf Month has taught me an invaluable lesson: there are way, way too many werewolf movies in the universe, especially on streaming.  I took a chance on Skinwalkers because it was directed by James Isaac.  That name might ring a bell, as he has toiled on oodles of genre films under oodles of different credits.  His main claim to fame - to my target audience anyway - is a certain spacebound slasher.  Yep, he helmed Jason X.  If you had anything to do with Jason X, I feel like I owe you one.  Renting Skinwalkers was the least I could do.  And I didn't even rent it.  That's just leftover 90's parlance that I'll probably never relinquish.  I did stream it, so I'm not a complete caveman.  Skinwalkers deals with a rogue clan of lycanthropes.  They reminded me of the villain's posse in Fright Night Part II.  That's definitely a plus.  Anyway, the bad guys seek to snuff out a 13-year-old.  This kid was prophesized to find a cure for "the curse," but some folks prefer being werewolves.

I hope you're not averse to warring factions.  Don't worry; Skinwalkers doesn't approach Twilight territory.  The casting is impressive.  Rhona Mitra and Elias Koteas are rock solid as the emotional anchors of the story.  There is a character twist that didn't make much sense, but I wouldn't want to spoil it.  Suffice to say, any system errors are minor.  Apparently, there is an unrated cut that adds twenty minutes of sex and gore.  In the film's defense, I didn't notice that I was missing out on choice exploitation.  Isaac does a bang-up job with the climax.  It's set at a steel mill, and it was giving me heavy Freddy's Nightmares vibes.  All in all, Skinwalkers is adequate.  Nothing mind-blowing.  I mean, it doesn't compare to Jason X, but what does?

Slumbering Sun or Random Album Alert

Click HERE to listen to Starmony, the new album from Texas doomsters Slumbering Sun.  This probably doesn't require a disclaimer, but I feel like I should mention that I'm not affiliated with the band in any way, shape, or form.  They simply rule.  Imagine something in the vein of Warning and Pallbearer (I'm also hearing a smidgen of Hangman's Chair).  This is just fantastic doom with crystalline vocal harmonies/starmonies and measured arrangements.  And riffs!  Riffs for days.  Listen to it.  Buy it.  Thank me later or not at all.

Blood Capsule #317

HOWLING III (1987)

Technically, this is a "found footage" film.  I'm clinging to that so I can cite it as a favorite whenever I hear someone losing their popcorn over the latest V/H/S venture.  Howling III is an oddity.  When I was a kid, I was spooked by seeing a ballerina transform into a werewolf.  Nowadays, that scene is hysterical.  I do wonder why it was shown on television during school hours in the early 90's.  Childhood rocked, didn't it?  Growing up, I never questioned the sheer audacity of this series.  Grunge was cool, the sky was blue, and there was a boatload of Howling movies.  We took these ridiculous franchises for granted.  How was I to know that it would be so much fun revisiting this Ozploitation lycanthropicture as an adult?  I'm still not sold on it being a high watermark for werewolves in general, but the synopsis alone is entertaining.  A feral girl escapes her rapist uncle and evades a "werewolf cult" by shacking up with a Hollywood producer.  Naturally, she auditions for a role in Shape Shifters Part 8.

It's interesting that Howling III seems to be winking at the viewer.  I don't know if you could call it self-referential in earnest, as it's pretty wacky outside of the movie-within-a-movie trope.  Let's talk about monsters.  I'm forgiving when it comes to creature effects, but these werewolves are just daffy.  Zany even!  I'll admit that the pouch-roving "kid" is ten kinds of cute.  The film almost becomes clever when it spins common thread between lycanthropes and marsupials.  Almost.  It's a nice idea, but it never really goes anywhere.  Honorable mentions must go out to Dagmar Blahova and Imogen Annesley as lady wolves Olga and Jerboa, respectively.  Honestly, their performances are too refined for this flick.  I'm counting that as a compliment.  I would have to rewatch the worst sequels to give my full ranking.  Since that isn't going to happen, I'll say that Howling III falls somewhere in the middle.

Recommended to fans of wombats and bandicoots.  They're marsupials; I checked.

Iron Supplements #3

CROWS

I like all of the bands that I break down here, but if I'm being perfectly honest, this is the first Iron Supplement that has joined my "regular" listening rotation.  That's pretty much on-brand, as this is easily the weirdest one yet.  Crows was a speed/power metal band out of Germany.  I'll talk about the music in a second, but the lyrics take precedence.  For some odd reason, Crows chose the plight of Native Americans as the theme of The Dying Race, their only full-length album.  Yeah.  But whatever.  The songs kill.  They're full of soaring harmonies (check out the chorus of "We Are the Storm"), melodic shredding, and more soaring harmonies.  This isn't straight power metal, which I think is the main reason why I dig it so much.  I'm reminded of Helstar.  And maybe Helloween.  I mean, I'm not into Helloween, but the similarities are there.

Members of Crows went on to play in Sodom and Angel Dust.  I will say, they don't share any common bonds with the Teutonic thrash triumvirate of Kreator, Sodom, and Destruction.  Same sandbox, different sand castle.

Blood Capsules #316

LATE PHASES (2014)

I meant to catch this flick upon its release.  For reasons unknown, I'm only seeing it now.  Let me recommend the hell out of it before I go any further.  It's a clever, point-blank cross-pollination of Silver Bullet and Bubba Ho-Tep.  Why Bubba?  Because our setting is a retirement community, and most of the characters are senior citizens (though I concede that none of them believe themselves to be rock stars).  The main dude is a blind man played - incredibly well, mind you - by Nick Damici.  He has an acerbic personality, which makes it easier to be in his corner.  Within the first twenty minutes, his neighbor is mauled by a hulking werewolf.  The fact that we don't see the beast again until the finale is actually a stroke of brilliance.  The film is forced to rely on the strength of its plot.  I'm not used to watching movies with, y'know, plots, so Late Phases was a breath of fresh air.

I sincerely hope the casting agent was paid handsomely.  Everyone is dialed in, and that includes...Tina Louise?  Yes, Ginger is given a supporting role, as is Tom Noonan.  Again, the acting is nuanced from all involved.  The werewolves are not "the point," but it has to be said that the creature suits are glorious.  I'm sitting here trying to decide if there was anything I didn't like about Late Phases.  I mean, I don't like that it's somewhat obscure.  This is easily one of the best werewolf movies of the 2010's, maybe the best overall since Ginger Snaps.  Why wasn't Tina Louise in Ginger Snaps?  I digress.  The non-lycanthrope drama is written with panache.  Ironically, it's just as affecting as the tender moments of Bubba Ho-Tep.  Check out Late Phases pronto.  Recommended to fans of 1994's Wolf and calcium-rich diets.

Mid-Capsule

I usually have a mid-capsule post ready to go, but at the moment, all I have is a reminder that Random Werewolf Month starts tomorrow.  Also, you can expect new editions of Now Playing and Iron Supplements in the next 7-10 days.  Dig it!

Blood Capsule #315

BOA (2001)

There is something wrong with me.  I just know it.  Feel my forehead.  Feverishly warm, right?  I may need to check myself into the nearest infirmary because I had a blast with Boa.  Maybe Saturn is in retrograde, or the right stars have aligned.  Or something.  I wish I could explain it away, but this direct-to-video claptrap tickled my fancy.  It wasn't content to merely mimic Anaconda.  No, it takes a stab at the "prison" subgenre.  The plot resides on New Alcatraz, a maximum security slammer located a few degrees of longitude (and latitude, I reckon) away from the South Pole.  Eventually, it will house thousands of criminals, but as Boa begins, the prisoner count is in the single digits.  Of course, these murderers and weapon smugglers are tapped to assist paleontologists in wrangling a prehistoric snake.  Enter Dean Cain (I'll wait a minute for the applause to die down).  He plays Scientist Guy, and I have to hand it to him; I believed he was Scientist Guy.  For what it's worth, the acting is presentable across the board.

That's just it.  Everything is presentable, aside from the spotty CGI.  I'm not going to deduct points for, shall we say, dubious special effects, as it comes with the territory.  It's low-budget entertainment, so play ball.  Technically, it's mid-budget, but something tells me that catering consisted of crackers and peanut butter.  That's only if you don't consider Dean Cain to be a square meal.  So yeah, Dean Cain.  Cripes, what happened to this review?  Anyway, the creamiest compliment that I can afford Boa is that it takes its time setting up the exposition without burdening the pace.  There is some semblance of structure here.  If I could offer any constructive criticism, the film is visually barren.  The sets are gray, the snake is gray, and my beard is gray.  Enough is enough.  I can't look you in the eye and proclaim that Boa is the best "killer snake" flick on the market, but it exceeded my expectations.  By, like, a lot.  Plus, Dean Cain.

Content (a gentle reminder)

I don't know how others view this website, if they view it at all.  This is probably just seen as another blog, but I see myself as a content creator.  I'm no different than a YouTuber, which by the way...YouTube is getting clued in on the Patreon model.  You can now "join" a person's YouTube channel and support them monetarily.  I'm hoping this normalizes the whole process because I always feel weird shilling my Patreon.  The truth is, every dollar helps.  Yes, even one dollar helps keep the site going, as it inspires the hell out of me and kicks my keister into overdrive.

So click HERE and maybe one day, I'll write a 1,000-word essay on The Supernaturals, a nifty "war zombie" movie you probably haven't seen.  Maybe one day...

Blood Capsule #314

QUICKSILVER HIGHWAY (1997)

This is another title I remember seeing on video shelves in the late 90's.  Made for the tube - Fox, to be specific - Quicksilver Highway is a cut above most of the dregs that find their way to the small screen (at least in terms of production design).  It could squirt through on name-dropping alone.  It was directed by Mick Garris.  If you need more names that horror goons will swoon over, how about Stephen King and Clive Barker?  Yes, this is an anthology, a double bill with Christopher Lloyd as toastmaster general.  He spins the yarns, but the two halves aren't actually connected.  He simply regales a bride who is broken down on the side of the road.  Once he finishes with that bit of business, he suddenly appears at a carnival where he spooks a pickpocket.  Er?  Pickpocketer?  That doesn't sound right.  Anyway, the first story is a King adaptation called "Chattery Teeth."  I won't bother with a blow-by-blow synopsis, except to say that it's Stephen King-y as hell.  Also, it's a little light on true horror, but hey, I was entertained.

The second segment stars Matt Frewer as a plastic surgeon who loses control of his hands.  It's...weird.  Fingers literally talk to each other.  They plot to overthrow their host body, and eventually, we see hands running around a hospital causing general mischief.  I realize that my job here is to give my opinion on the movies I watch, but I don't know that I have an opinion on Matt everloving Frewer doing his best Ash impersonation.  It certainly happened.  I'll give it that much.  Quicksilver Highway ends with a resounding kerplunk.  No twist.  No wrap-around gimmick.  Just credits.  Y'know, I've never heard anyone talk about this flick.  It premiered a few weeks after The Shining was revamped, so maybe it was a case of inauspicious timing.  I'm feeling three Z'Dars.

Death

If you live long enough, you'll eventually see the death of your pop culture.  Technically, mine has been dying for awhile now, but the deaths of Ozzy Osbourne and Hulk Hogan solidify it for me.  It's a strange feeling.  Plenty of people will point out that no, Hogan was not the superhero that we grew up watching.  I get it.  I'm not jaded enough, however, to act like he didn't mean something, even in 2025.  He's still Hulk friggin' Hogan.  People on social media can dance on his coffin if they want, but I'm choosing to pay my respects.  Of course, everyone loved Ozzy.  My mom loved Ozzy, for crying out loud.  While it's true that he didn't write any of the riffs on the Black Sabbath records, the role he played in the creation of heavy metal cannot be denied.  He was there for all of it.

I'm not sure if I have a point to make with any of this.  Just jotting down my thoughts on a hell of a week.  I'm going to go listen to Master of Reality now.

Iron Supplements #2

DRAGON

Poland!  It's a very metal country.  Typically, it's known for its blasty, stomach-churning death metal, but today, we're taking a look at a thrash band.  Enter (the) Dragon.  They dabbled in technically proficient death/thrash.  I'm using past tense because they also dabbled in industrial rock.  Scream of Death was their third album and it's what I'm currently jamming.  I can also vouch for 1989's Horde of Gog (great title).  The later stuff...it's anyone's best guess.  Seemingly, a lot of the bands that I discover on Metal Archives are currently active, this one being no exception.  My penchant for Dragon (and it's a small penchant, as I just unearthed them) stems from the fact that I prefer thrash from the late 80's and early 90's.  Let's face it; if you were still playing full-tilt thrash in the 90's, you were dead serious.

Comparisons?  I'm hearing the dry tonality of Coroner and maybe the faster bits of Rust-era Megadeth.  Early Dragon is a solid listen.  No word on if they actually wrote songs about dragons.  I haven't gotten that far yet.

Blood Capsule #313 (Special Edition)

What's a Special Edition?  It's a series where I review one of my favorites.  These are films that would appear in my Top 50 or so (if I endeavored to compile such a list).

CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD (1980)

I need to rewatch The Beyond to make it official, but I'm fairly confident that City of the Living Dead is my favorite Lucio Fulci film.  It was my first Fulci experience, and in retrospect, I'm surprised that I took to it as readily as I did.  I was still new to Italian horror.  I could have easily been put off by the haphazard dubbing, though it should be noted that the dubbing isn't that bad.  By the same token, I could have been dismayed by the lack of a linear story.  But no, I didn't have to check my enthusiasm at the door.  I kinda-sorta love the fact that it dares you to dream up a coherent synopsis.  It's almost plotless in the same way that Seinfeld is a "show about nothing."  Of course, things do happen, but Fulci is a miserly chap when it comes to the tendons, the fibrous tissue between the events that transpire.  Out of context, we see a priest commit suicide, we see a fecund zombie tear its way out of the earth, and we see poor Catriona MacColl scrape the lid of her coffin as she is buried alive.

In context, these images still manage to stand independently of one another.  Fulci initiates a volley of "greatest hits" that refuse to be shaped into a traditional three-act structure.  All of this mysterious merrymaking (??) is wrapped in gobs of atmosphere.  I rate atmosphere as City's best quality.  It's certainly Fulci's strong suit.  The climax is a carousel of headstones, festered flesh, and enough mist to dress the sets of two Hammer films.  And yet, I can't award this rotting epic a perfect rating.  In terms of characters, I'm really only partial to MacColl.  Then you have the ending, which no one can seem to rationalize.  I still rank City of the Living Dead above Zombie and House by the Cemetery.  No one is asking, but my second favorite Fulci dish has got to be Don't Torture a Duckling.  How did I get this far without mentioning the entrail regurgitation or the industrial drill lobotomy?

Truly, this movie is a gift that keeps on giving.

Now Playing #22

A-Z - A2Z²

This is a progressive metal supergroup of sorts.  Are supergroups passé?  If so, don't tell A-Z.  These guys crush Velvet Revolver anyway.  So this project's moniker is derived from the names of the vocalist and the drummer, respectively.  Fates Warning frontman Ray Alder takes the microphone, while Mark Zonder (formerly of Fates Warning and Warlord, I believe) sits behind the kit.  I sound like a complete moron when I try to talk about drumming.  Likewise, it's my suspicion that most metal journalists wouldn't know a hi-hat from a bowler hat, but for what it's worth, Zonder's work here is exceptional.  Personally, I was hooked because of Alder's involvement.  I just love the guy's voice.  If you listen to "I Am Numb" or "A Wordless Prison," he sounds younger than his years suggest.  If you're not into prog, you probably won't dig this stuff, although the songwriting prioritizes earworm melodies over herky-jerky time signatures.

Of course, some of A2Z² is herky-jerky.  It comes with the territory.  I would be remiss if I didn't mention the contributions of guitarist Nick van Dyke (see Retribution, which also boasted the talents of Ray Alder).  The guitar solos are virtuosic without being Yngwie-able, if you catch my drift.  This record is exceedingly listenable.  What does that mean?  It means I've listened to it quite a bit, and I wish that "Fire Away" was played at every sports stadium.  It would drastically improve a seventh inning stretch.

Darkthrone - Under a Funeral Moon

Ordinarily, I would attempt to spotlight an obscure band that doesn't darken your browser that often, but what can I say?  I'm on a(nother) Darkthrone kick.  By this point in 1993, everyone's favorite Scandinavian hobgoblins had settled on black metal as their main vocation.  Any and all traces of death metal had been flushed from their kidneys.  Or mountain oysters, if you prefer.  Maybe I'm mistaken, but it seems as if Under a Funeral Moon gets brushed aside, at least where Darkthrone's 90's output is concerned.  That could be a miscalculation on my part.  Either way, it goes hard.  Check out the massive breakdown that bisects "Summer of the Diabolical Holocaust."  So tasty.  And I love the cacophonous leads that crop up here and there.  The production is obviously abrasive, but from where I'm sitting, it never becomes too strident.  You can still hear the riffs.

The riffs, man.  "To Walk the Infernal Fields" is chock-full of them.  That's probably my favorite track, but ask me tomorrow, and I might go with closer "Crossing the Triangle of Flames."  I bet it's a scalene triangle.  Shapes are pretty metal.

Blood Capsule #312

SCARED TO DEATH (1980)

Recently on Facebook, I posed a challenge to my like-minded peers.  Feel free to play along.  Name a great monster in a not-so-great movie.  There are endless options, and I received some excellent answers (like the hideous sun demon in - you guessed it - The Hideous Sun Demon), but I did have a movie in mind.  I first encountered Scared to Death at our local video store in the late 90's.  Cool cover, although I never took the bait.  And while I'm sure I could stream it somewhere, I insisted on grabbing a grubby, begrimed VHS copy for the purposes of this review.  It just felt right.  Could I see every detail during scenes set in the sewer system?  No.  Hell, I couldn't see every detail when the action was in broad daylight.  That's not the point!  The point is...um, give me a second.  The monster in this flick is swell, so swell that producers bankrolled a quasi-sequel just so they could use the monster in a subjectively "better" setting.  The result was Syngenor, a term used here.  It stands for SYNthetic GENetic ORganism.  I might review Syngenor, but hey, one thing at a time.

So Scared to Death (not to be confused with the 1947 thriller of the same name starring Bela Lugosi and George Zucco).  The upside?  I've used the word "monster" eighty-seven times in an effort to delineate the appeal of this creature feature.  The suit has an H.R. Giger vibe to it, and man, it cuts an imposing silhouette.  The downside?  Scared to Death will bore you to death.  Trivial moments drag on and on for no actual reason.  An illustration, if I may...instead of simply showing us a hospital, we have to see the main character write a note explaining that he's heading to the hospital.  And then we see the hospital.  Guess what?  Nothing happens at the hospital.  It's a frustrating situation, mainly because director William Malone is seriously talented.  There are red arrows in Scared to Death that point to a top-shelf spookshow.  Unfortunately, the viewer is denied access to such a spookshow.  I forgot to write a synopsis.  Um, a laboratory experiment does what laboratory experiments do in these budget pictures.  The plot reminded me of The Kindred.

Watch The Kindred.

Iron Supplements #1

CREMATORY

I don't remember how I clicked onto this band, but they were the impetus for this column.  I'm sure that the members of Crematory are super proud and stuff.  So what we have here is gothic doom metal from Germany.  I'm currently blasting the 1993 debut (Transmigration, pictured above) through my earbuds, and I have to say, I really dig it.  It's not too dissimilar from what Paradise Lost were doing in the early 90's.  Maybe the keyboards are a little more pronounced.  And how about that album cover?  Seemingly, Crematory lost interest in plodding death metal as they ripened.  They would soon espouse electronic music, which, erm, no thanks?  They did release an album earlier this year, but there are no reviews for it yet.  If you decide to check it out, be sure to report back.

Dude, the riffs on "Hall of Torment" are astoundingly heavy.  Yeah, I'd call the maiden voyage for this column a success.  Crematory ruled...at one point anyway.

Blood Capsule #311

COLOSSAL (2016)

It's time to switch things up a bit.  I don't remember seeing any advertisements for Colossal upon its release.  If I had, it's a safe bet that I would have checked it out.  On the surface, it's a romantic comedy starring Anne Hathaway and Jason Sudeikis.  Boring "normie" stuff, right?  Well, hold on a second.  The trailer - should you ever watch it - reveals an inner core, a creamy nougat center contrived to placate kaiju fans.  Yes, kaiju.  Colossal falls somewhere in between Cloverfield and...name a modern romantic comedy.  Hathaway plays Gloria, an alcoholic struggling to scrape by after breaking up with her boyfriend.  She finds a new social circle (along with a new job tending bar), but right as her life begins to approach normalcy, a disaster hits South Korea.  To be specific, a monster hits South Korea.  A giant monster.  Gloria inundates herself with news updates, both online and on television.  Everyone does, but for whatever reason, she's an empath when it comes to South Korea.  I'll be honest; it could use some explaining.

There is a twist.  And it's the crux of the trailer, so I wouldn't call it a spoiler.  Gloria walks home from work every night, and as she nears her house, she crosses a desolate playground.  Every move she makes on this playground is mimicked by the monster in South Korea.  If she falls down, the monster falls down.  If she scratches her head, the monster...et cetera, et cetera.  Cool concept, no?  The characters are reasonably fleshed out, so you want to see how they handle such an extraordinary situation.  I was on board for most of the running time until the last leg where one of the main players turns heel, to use wrestling jargon.  It seems out of step for this person to act and react the way they do.  Everyone else comes off as natural, which compounds the problem.  I can only say so much, as I'm trying to circumvent actual spoilers.  I can, however, comment on the monster.  It's a 100% digital creation, but I dug the smooth design.  We also get a giant robot.  So there's that.  Obviously, this isn't strictly a horror film, but I think it will appeal to nerdy genre enthusiasts (ask me how I know).

Rasslin'

Good Lord.  That main event was so over-the-top ridiculous, I liked it.  I'm not proud of the fact that I watched so much wrestling yesterday, but I am proud of the fact that I didn't pay for any of it.  That's a win, no matter how you slice it.  And yet, I have more wrestling in my near future.  Evolution starts soon.  I know that it's going to be boring, but I can't help it.  Iyo Sky is in the main event.  I have to tune in, don't I?  I wish I had a witch friend who could manifest A.J. Lee into reality for me.  Witches can do that, right?  I'm asking too many questions for what is essentially filler.  Apologies.

I really don't like Nikki Bella.

Blood Capsule #310

DEEP SPACE (1988)

Not to be confused with 1991's Dead Space.  I was just telling a friend the other day that I am easily entertained.  It really doesn't take much to cajole me into writing a positive review of your work, even if you're Fred Olen Ray.  See, Fred understands this.  I'm sure he knows everything about me.  Aside from being omnipotent (???), he knows that I'll watch any and all Alien ripoffs.  I have to, folks.  And when it comes to these snow jobs, these peculating pieces of plagiarism, Deep Space is dependable.  In fact, it's on the level of Xtro 2: The Second Encounter, an Alien riff that holds a special place in my moth-eaten heart.  Charles Napier plays Ian McLemore, a no-nonsense cop who is on probation for being a no-nonsense cop.  Yeah, the action movie clichés are laid on thick.  His partner is just as tetchy.  Normally, the sidekick is a token goofball, so I actually appreciated this dude.  Unfortunately, he does happen to be the token black guy, so he doesn't stick around very long.

What about the monster?  Does it look like a xenomorph?  You bet!  Since we never see its legs when it's ambulatory, I'm thinking that they only built a torso.  That's fine by me.  Deep Space was afforded a reputable budget for a Fred Olen Ray joint (this was probably his biggest project yet), but I wasn't expecting aerodynamic special effects.  We get a couple of car chases, an occasional explosion...y'know, the usual.  The second act is sluggish, but ol' Fred brings it home for the finale.  There should have been a "goop wrangler" listed in the credits.  An honorable mention goes out to this flick's version of a facehugger.  Good stuff.  If I had to interject with a complaint, the subplot with the psychic isn't terribly interesting.  I almost completely forgot that it existed.  Nevertheless, if you're looking for a hassle-free cheese dish, Deep Space might be for you.  At the very least, it's notable for being an Alien ripoff that takes place in the suburbs.  Yippee?

Random Album Alert

Click HERE to check out a fresh batch of tunes by Drawn and Quartered.  I was just listening to it while polishing off a review for Random Werewolf Month.  Speaking of which, August is going to be sick.  Also sick?  Meat-and-potatoes death metal, which is what this album delivers.  I don't know if it's going to be on anyone's year-end list, but my ears are telling me that it's cool.

Blood Capsule #309

BOG (1979)

Fishman alert!  I actually borrowed Bog on VHS from a friend years ago and never watched it.  The film now comes to me via a secret, mystical repository of psychotronic delights (Tubi).  A word on our fishman - though it is gilled, I'm not sold on its status as a fish.  Or a man.  All we learn about the boggy critter is that it has been awakened from a deep slumber.  It may be prehistoric?  As for the monster's motivation, bulbous eyes reveal an august, unmitigated passion for life and all of the mysteries of the universe.  And breeding.  Don't forget breeding.  A cluster of eggs is supposed to leave the door open for a sequel, but let me back up a bit.  Aldo Ray plays a sheriff who must contend with a pile of dead fishermen.  Naturally, we meet a pair of scientist types, and this is where Bog gets its...idiosyncrasies.  That's a rather generous word choice on my part, but I believe this movie has its heart in the right place.  Fiftysomething Ginny begins a crusty romance with sixtysomething Brad.  Paragraph!

Break!  For some unholy reason, Bog makes it a point to focus on their relationship.  They are depicted as smitten teenagers, which is cute at first.  Then we're treated to an uncomfortably long makeout session.  I can't seem to identify the target audience here.  Regardless, Brad and Ginny anchor the script, so I hope you're in the mood for freebase hanky-panky at the retirement home.  Thankfully, Bog resides in PG waters.  Dodged a bullet there.  While I can say that this flick is entertaining, you need to consider the source.  This is my kind of mess.  Still, out of all of the "fishman" follies that I've been lucky enough to catch, this one offers the least amount of creature suit chicanery.  We don't get an eyeful of anything interesting until well after the hour mark.  Bog does receive partial credit for featuring a swamp witch.  So there is that.  Recommended to fans of Rana: The Legend of Shadow Lake and the episode of The Golden Girls where Blanche beds a mudskipper.

Random Match Alert

I haven't actually watched this match yet, but I know it's worth sharing.  Diesel vs. Waylon Mercy...enjoy!

McKay's haul!

So I've been a fortunate dude lately.  Maybe I did good deeds in a past life.  Whatever the case, I was in a unique position today where I had a little cash to blow.  I don't say this to brag.  God knows, I'm not bragging.  Things have simply been going well for me.  So well, in fact, I almost feel guilty about it.  I know I shouldn't, but when you're inundated with tragic stories on the news (NOTE TO SELF: Stop watching the news!), you realize how lucky you are.  Maybe this was an unnecessary preamble.  Oblige me, as I wanted to write it anyway.  Because...

...I bought a lot of crap at McKay's.  If you're not familiar, McKay's is the last bastion for physical media.  There might be others, but this one is somewhat local to me.  Well, it's a couple hours.  That's what transportation is for.  It's worth the drive, though.  I went with one of my best friends (thanks, Bobby!) and we had a blast.  First up, check out the movies I bought.  I couldn't believe they actually had VHS to spare.  Not much, mind you.  Yes, I'll be reviewing some of these, either here or on Patreon.  Click to enlarge.

Next, wrestling stuff!

And finally, reading material.  The X-Files book was only a buck.

Not pictured: Yes, there is more.  I grabbed some King's X (Dogman) and Depeche Mode (Songs of Faith and Devotion) on CD.  And a bag of plastic eyeballs.  Why did I buy a bag of plastic eyeballs?  Here's how I see it; the last time you went to a store, why DIDN'T you buy a bag of plastic eyeballs?  Hmm?

Blood Capsule #308

THE AMAZING COLOSSAL MAN (1957)

On the surface, this film doesn't seem very interesting.  Giants are a hit/miss proposition, but in the capable hands of Bert I. Gordon (that's Mr. B.I.G. to you), this becomes a stark prophylactic that warns us on the dangers of plutonium bombs.  Okay, maybe "stark" isn't the right word.  The Amazing Colossal Man is certainly more affecting than expected.  Glenn Langan turns in a well-mannered performance as Lt. Col. Manning, a serviceman who risks radiation barbecue to save a downed pilot.  He accrues third-degree burns on 95% of his body, but amazingly, new skin cells emerge that wipe out any trace of injury.  Before you send him a cordial greeting card, you should know that just 48 hours after removing his bandages, he grows eighteen feet.  Something about the pituitary gland?  I'm a bit of an expert on Robert Wadlow, the tallest man in recorded medical history.  With boots on, he topped out at nine feet.  I'm familiar with some of the science behind gigantism, so I know that Manning's case is hogwash.  In fact, you might compare it to a bull's fecal deposits.  However!

Despite also being an expert on, um, bull deposits, I had fun watching The Amazing Colossal Man.  It gets pretty dark.  Mind you, it's nowhere near as dark as Johnny Got His Gun, but that didn't stop me from humming Metallica riffs during scenes where our conflicted hero flashes back to his courtship with Carol, an agreeable blonde played by Cathy Downs.  I recognized her from The She-Creature (same girl, different hair color).  The pace is swift.  Writer/director Gordon was adept at spinning tales of stupefying science fiction.  This might be his best effort all told, although I still need to see Satan's Princess and Picture Mommy Dead.  There is a sequel, 1958's War of the Colossal Beast.  I might try to catch it if I stage another Random Sequel Month.  As for this flick, you should check it out if you're a fan of kaiju-sized monsters.  As for Robert Wadlow, I've always wanted to write a biopic for the silver screen.  But who to tag for the lead role?  Is Phil Fondacaro still active?

Rassle Inn #55

The second season of WWE LFG just started (a few weeks after the first season ended).  Is anyone else watching this show?  I'm genuinely curious.  If you're not privy, it's a competition-based reality show that reminds me of The Voice.  I only know how The Voice works because my mom is obsessed with it, but basically, celebrities form teams of hopefuls and they "duke it out."  Replace singing with wrestling.  Same thing.  The Legends are Bubba Ray Dudley, Booker T, Michelle McCool (having supplanted Mickie James), and of course, The Undertaker.  I'll withhold my comments about the term "legend."  I think it's pretty obvious what is happening here.  Yes, The Undertaker is a legend, but ehhhh...

If this show were a shoot, it would be more interesting.  For some reason, they have to fabricate feuds between the rookies.  I would love to see actual training footage.  Plus, it's so rare to see the guys and gals putting matches together, that alone would be an intriguing concept.  But as it stands, it's pretty vanilla.  And they're doing that annoying thing where the winner is obviously NOT the one with the most potential.  If you've been watching, you know that Tyra Mae Steele shouldn't have gone over, so to speak.  I've seen some of the rookies concurrently compete on Evolve, WWE's c-show that streams on Tubi.  So who knows what the plan is going forward?

I described LFG as "vanilla."  That's where we are right now with respect to WWE's main roster.  There are people I like, but geez, why are the shows so boring?  Am I supposed to be looking forward to the Goldberg match? John Cena's heel turn has been a partial success, but they don't seem to know where it's going.  Now, I'm sure they know where it's going, but unless he retires as a heel (which isn't happening), something isn't clicking.  I wished that CM Punk won the title in Saudi Arabia.  That would shake things up, but then again, I keep wishing for A.J. Lee to return.  Speaking of the women's division, Evolution looks lackadaisical.  Again, am I supposed to be looking forward to a Nikki Bella match?

So there you have it.  A bunch of complaining.  That's going to be the title of this post on the Rassle Inn index page.

Blood Capsule #307

PROJECT VIPER (2002)

There is a car chase in Project Viper where a character is being pursued by a helicopter.  I thought it looked pretty upscale for a Jim Wynorski joint, and after doing some research, I found that I was correct.  Apparently, the footage was lifted from Species.  Why Species?  No earthly idea, but man, I can't get that movie out of my hair.  Ol' Jim was aiming at the moon with this sci-fi dive bomb.  Ostensibly, it was made for the tube (Syfy Channel, I'm assuming), but instances of heavy profanity say otherwise.  I don't actually know why this b-venture was produced or where it was supposed to premiere.  I do know that it's not too shabby, all things considered.  The plot deals with a rocketship to Mars.  Ground communication is disrupted by an unseen force, and the astronauts are feared dead.  What happened???  Well, it may have something to do with Viper, an experimental bio-weapon comprised of human DNA and computer chips (because of course).  There are two prototypes.  One of them is in outer space, while the other has been stolen.

Can the FBI track Viper down before it releases...hmm, what should I call it?  The Temu Mind-Flayer?  That's a Stranger Things reference, but in all honesty, it looks like the aliens in Pitch Black, only larger and amorphous.  Hey, I wasn't asking much from Project Viper, and it met my expectations.  I just needed a teensy bit of action, moderate bloodshed, and plenty of quality time with the monster.  The CGI is so pitiful, that it makes a full revolution and becomes incredible.  I'm not fond of the phrase "so bad, it's good."  However, I concede that it describes this flick with punctilious precision.  Patrick Muldoon and Theresa Russell are solid as the lead experts (or whatever they are).  By that, I mean they don't look too embarrassed.  Again, I wasn't asking for much, so I don't feel guilty giving Project Viper my hearty endorsement.  Recommended to fans of the first ten minutes of Species II.

Now Playing #21

Krabathor - Cool Mortification

I guess most people will have heard of Krabathor through their ties to Master.  Paul Speckmann was a member of the line-up for a few years, but that was late in the game.  Cool Mortification dropped in 1993, and I'll be perfectly honest.  This is the only Krabathor record I have consumed.  Why?  Because...because.  No reason really, though I probably oscillated towards the sick cover art.  I'm superficial like that.  The album itself is pure death metal.  It was Krabathor's second long player, and from what I can tell, they made a precipitous leap from the debut in terms of craftsmanship and sheer chops.  Songs such as "The Loop" and "Evil Corners of Mind" don't necessarily do anything new, but they're written so freakin' well, it doesn't matter.  I particularly love the sweet guitar solos.  An honorable mention goes out to bassist/vocalist Bruno Kovarnik for his beastly growls.  Basically, everything here is cool.

I still have a bit of exploration in front of me as it relates to Krabathor, but if I can convince one reader to check them out, I'd be satisfied.  Oh, and they hail from Czechia.  Now you know.

Gruesome - Silent Echoes

I wrote a little about this album before it was released, but since this column is supposed to document what I've been jamming, it looks like I'm going to write about it again.  If you don't know, Gruesome exists to pay homage to Chuck Schuldiner.  Each record is a callback, and Silent Echoes is a chilling tribute to Human.  They NAILED it.  The production, the vocals, the lead harmonies...this thing reeks of mid-era Death.  I realize that some metalheads stopped listening to Death by the time Human came around.  Hell, some folks even stopped before Spiritual Healing came around, but if I wasn't seven years old in 1991, I wouldn't have been one of those folks.  I love, love, love the progressive-minded approach that Chuck took on later records, so Silent Echoes was built for my ears.  It's a consistent listen.  As such, I can't say that I have a favorite track.  Every song is dotted with "woah" moments.  For instance, the double bass patterns in "Frailty."  Woah.

I'm hoping that this means we'll get Gruesome's take on Individual Thought Patterns and Symbolic next.  Maybe The Sound of Perseverance?  I don't want to sound greedy, but c'mon, you know that would rule.

Blood Capsule #306

MONSTER ON THE CAMPUS (1958)

Gamma rays.  You gotta watch out for those gamma rays.  Here, the electromagnetic radiation has polluted the plasma of a coelacanth.  If you'll turn in your textbook to page 4,567, you'll see that the coelacanth is a species of fish once thought to be a sort of "living fossil," a throwback to an age when the earth was just a giant pot of primordial soup.  But that's not terribly important.  What's important is that the coelacanth has infected Professor Donald Blake.  His DNA is dialed back to the extent that he transforms into a raging caveman.  We also catch a glimpse of an oversized dragonfly, but that's not terribly important either.  Monster on the Campus was directed by sci-fi veteran Jack Arnold.  He knew his way around a monster movie, and it shows in the film's buoyant pace.  I love the scene where Blake realizes that he is the one responsible for the rash of deaths in town.  This almost has the cadence of a werewolf story.  Considering its status as a Universal picture, that may not be a coincidence.

Can I get away with cutting this capsule short?  I mean, I've told you everything you need to know about Monster on the Campus.  It's effortlessly entertaining.  Random trivia!  I missed it, but apparently, there is a shot where you can see the side of the Munsters' house.  So y'know, bonus cool points.

R.L. Stine's Man-Thing?

A friend recently gave me the omnibus collection of the five-issue series of Man-Thing that was written by R.L. Stine (thanks, Bobby!).  I didn't know that such a thing existed until, well, recently.  My history with Stine is unbelievably complex.  To me.  Maybe it's utterly, unabashedly normal, but I don't know.  I can't wrap my head around the guy.  To be clear, I love Goosebumps.  Most of the books are bubblegum-scented garbage, but for obvious reasons, they will always hold a special place in my cankered heart.  I spot something branded with the Goosebumps logo, I buy it.  It's a Pavlovian response, you see.

That doesn't change the fact that...how do I put this?  R.L. Stine is a terrible writer.  Reading his run of Man-Thing just solidified my opinion of his style.  And make no mistake, he has one style.  He has no idea how to write anything that isn't It Came From the Pizza Box or whatever.  I could have sworn that Man-Thing was a typically solemn title, but in the hands of Stine, it's replete with juvenile gags and painful one-liners.  Christ, the one-liners have one-liners.  Every villain has something ridiculous to say.  Man-Thing himself has dreams of becoming an A-List actor in Hollywood.  Yeah.

Of course, the artwork is incredible, but that goes without saying.  I'm glad that I read it, but Stine needs to stick to teenaged ghosts and mutant chickens.  I would actually spend money on It Came From the Pizza Box, though.  Don't tell him I said that.