Now Playing #19

Only Living Witness - Prone Mortal Form

This is a first.  I never thought I'd be writing about a metalcore album, but before you revoke my metalhead license, allow me to remind you that this record came out in 1993.  More of a hardcore band with metal flourishes than the other way around (no Gothenburg worship here), Only Living Witness came and went like cytoplasm in a mosquito net (???).  What I mean to say is that they were unjustly obscure.  They're still obscure, but it seems as though people are finally waking up to their modest smattering of material.  Cripes, it only took three decades.  OLW have two full-length albums to their name.  Prone Mortal Form is the debut, and it has claimed a spot in my van's CD player.  It's been there for a decent while.  Musically, this stuff would appeal to almost any well-defined clique or "scene."  Hardcore, metal, hard rock...it's a formless blob that influenced all of the bands that exploded in the early 2000's.

You can draw lines of congruence, but I want to emphasize the fact that OLW do not resemble Killswitch Engage in any way, shape, or (prone mortal) form.  If they did, I probably wouldn't dig Prone Mortal Form.  As much as I hate to be that guy, I'm pretty much that guy.  Favorite cuts?  "Root," "Ninevah," and the punchy, two-minute "VTA."  Favorite guitar solo on "Root"?  The guitar solo on "Root."

Sanctuary - The Year the Sun Died

I slept on this album when it was released in 2014.  I have no idea why.  I like Sanctuary.  I even own a copy of 1990's Into the Mirror Black on cassette tape (which rules, by the way).  I guess checking out this reunion opus is part of my Nevermore kick, and yes, I'm still on a Nevermore kick.  The presence of the late Warrel Dane makes The Year the Sun Died translate as a lost Nevermore album.  At the very least, I think it's fair to say that it's a little more Nevermore than formative Sanctuary.  I don't hear much of the late 80's on songs such as "I Am Low" and "Question Existence Fading."  That's not a good thing or a bad thing.  Just an observation.  Whatever you want to call it, I freakin' love this batch of tunes.  Special mention goes out to Brad Hull's crisp guitar work.  He was in a killer band called Forced Entry right around the time that Mirror saw the light of day.  Check them out, too.

I believe that a version of Sanctuary currently exists with Witherfall's Joseph Michael behind the microphone.  That's a tasty proposition.  Listen to "The World is Wired" or the songs I already mentioned.  They are excellent examples of...groove thrash?  Metal.  It's metal.

Blood Capsule #283

FLOWERS IN THE ATTIC (1987)

Disclaimer: I haven't read this film's source material, nor have I seen any of the supplementary versions of Flowers in the Attic.  My opinion is pure, but it's just the opinion of a dope who wouldn't normally watch something like this.  Call it a palate cleanser?  We're in stark melodrama territory.  You could almost call this a modern tragedy, though I understand the book was set in the 50's.  Again, that's irrelevant.  I wasn't too surprised to learn that Wes Craven was attached to direct at one point.  With different packaging, this would be lurid horror all the way.  I hesitate to write a detailed synopsis, but we'll see how far I get.  A penniless mother is forced to move back in with her parents following the tragic death of her husband.  She hopes to win her father's love, thus solidifying a spot in his will.  He's on his deathbed, you see.  There is a caveat.  Her mother (a morose Louise Fletcher) is a warped, deeply religious battle-axe who insists on keeping the children tucked away upstairs.

My plot summary may feel a little incomplete, but that's all you need to know.  A word to the wise...stuff gets dark.  Darker than most mainstream horror films.  While I can't say that I had a blast watching Flowers, this isn't exactly party material.  It's grim, more so than your cousin's black metal project (his demos suck, by the way).  The cast is strong, especially Fletcher.  Why on Earth do I find her to be so attractive?  She usually plays despicable characters, and yet, I have a thing for her.  Am I unwell?  An honorable mention goes out to the score by the exquisite Christopher Young.  I'm not used to watching a-movies, so I don't know that you should take this review seriously.  For what it's worth, I'd say that Flowers in the Attic is a posh piece of cinema.  Recommended to fans of beneficiaries, executors, and other will-related words.

Two reminders!

#1 - I'm running a contest that ends in a week-ish.  #2 - Next month is Random Sequel Month!  Tell your friends and enemies.

Blood Capsule #282

MERIDIAN (1990)

I had to make a half-Z'Dar rating icon specifically for this review.  I never thought I would actually have to use it, as I can find something positive to say about most lemons I encounter.  But this...this broke me.  Charles Band should be ashamed of himself for directing Meridian, a feelbad, low-class "horror fantasy" that wastes a creature suit originally drafted for Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula.  Sherilyn Fenn stars as a broad abroad in Italy.  She inherited a castle, so naturally, she decides to immediately invite an entire troupe of strange carnival performers.  That's when Meridian decides to immediately become an abhorrent rape/revenge flick, only without the revenge.  Because when Catherine is drugged and violated by a mad magician (in slow-motion, for Christ's sake), she falls for his twin brother.  That's when I decided to immediately chuck my copy of Meridian into the garbage disposal.

This film bears the markings of any other Full Moon production, including a chimerical dwarf (played by Phil Fondacaro) and an equally chimerical score by Pino Dinaggio.  It's missing a key element, though - fun.  There isn't a single ounce of fun to be had, especially if you nod off here and there.  EDITOR'S NOTE: I may have nodded off here and there.  The pacing is listless, the dialogue is routinely ridiculous, and oh yeah, I don't want rape in my Full Moon movies!  Am I overreacting?  It would be one thing if I went in expecting grindhouse sleaze, but I wasn't exactly in the mood for Ms. 45.  Buyer beware.

A Band: Lost Soul

Lost Soul is listed as a technical death metal band on Metal Archives, but I'm not so sure that's accurate.  Yes, their music is technical, but it's just as accurate to simply label them as what they are - a Polish death metal band.  When I say "Polish death meal," what springs to mind?  Probably Vader, maybe Hate, maybe mid-era Behemoth...precise, supercharged death metal that takes a little bit from Florida and Sweden.  Early Lost Soul is predominantly blasty.  2000's Scream of the Mourning Star is an excellent debut, and it might as well be your starting point.

Personally, my favorite Lost Soul material can be found on 2005's Chaostream, which was their third long player if you're counting at home.  It's marked by seismic riffs that hit without warning (see "Godstate" to hear what I'm talking about).  Blastbeats are still excessive, but by this point, the band had found their inner groove.  Melody be damned, a song like "Shameless Race" piledrives its way into your brain.  2009's Immerse in Infinity is sonically epic, and it actually served as my introduction to Lost Soul.  Layers upon layers of lead guitars compete for your attention.  "...If the Dead Can Speak" is a killer track that climaxes with an expansive solo.  There are moments that could be confused for nu-metal, and they wouldn't work on any other album.  But they work here.

I know I already said that Chaostream was my favorite of the bunch, but between you and me, it's a toss-up.  Immerse in Infinity is just so massive.  2015 saw the release of Atlantis: The New Beginning, which currently stands as Lost Soul's final hour.  It's definitely their weakest effort, as everything sounds too massive.  It tries to be "high concept," but it collapses beneath chaotic guitar work and odd chanting.  Don't let that deter you from checking out Lost Soul, though.  Honestly, Chaostream is a sleeper pick, as it may be one of the strongest post-2000 death metal albums to come out of Central Europe.  Yep.

I thought I would end up typing a novel's worth of panegyric praise, and I probably still could, but I'll cap it here for the sake of brevity and sanity.  Lost Soul is listed as active, so maybe we'll get something new in the not-too-distant future?  Question mark???

Blood Capsule #281

EVE OF DESTRUCTION (1991)

In the last year or so, I've tried to broaden my horizons a bit.  What does that mean?  In terms of Blood Capsules, it means more science fiction.  Teenaged Dom (who is becoming a recurring character, it seems) would have strolled right past Eve of Destruction in the video store.  Of course, I probably would have been in the horror section anyway, but that belies my point.  I'm finding that there is a wide range of sci-fi nuggets that are wacky enough for my idiosyncratic sensibilities.  I'm also finding that "wacky" is a prerequisite in my household.  I mean, it's the perfect adjective for a film that pits Gregory Hines against a Terminator-esque android.  Why Gregory Hines?  No, I'm asking.  Why was he chosen to play a callous, hard-boiled colonel with the vocabulary of...well, Teenaged Dom?  That's not a compliment, by the way.  Hines gives it the old college try.  I don't know that he failed necessarily, but I was having a tough time buying him as a John McClane type.

I've gone and buried the lede.  This is a cool, energetic "action thriller," and yes, it hurt typing those words.  I won't let it happen again, though I concede that this is definitely not a horror flick.  It does come close enough for my purposes, as I like to say.  We do see some moist gore in the way of bionic intestines.  Speaking of which, Renée Soutendijk gives a cracking performance as both Eve and her all-too-human architect.  If there was any justice in this world, she would have received an Oscar nomination for her services rendered.  But there isn't, so she'll have to settle for the dinky praise of an online critic.  Eve of Destruction goes down smooth if you're in the market for brisk entertainment.  Having said that, I can see why it flopped in the States (it bypassed theaters altogether overseas).  It certainly won't light your VCR on fire.  I'm thinking 3.5 Z'Dars.  Recommended if your video store doesn't have copies of T2: Judgment Day.  Yeah, I'm still running with the VHS gag.  Call it a gimmick.

Random Song Alert

I have two main musical passions.  #1 - Metal.  #2 - 90's Rock.  There are times when the only thing that will scratch my itch is a band that seemed to slip through the cracks, which brings me to Catherine Wheel.  I guess you could fit them into the shoegaze category, but the album I'm most familiar with is 1995's Happy Days, a decidedly un-shoegaze collection of songs.  It's really just hard rock.  I don't ever remember seeing the video for "Waydown" on MTV, but man, what a tune!

Blood Capsule #280

THE MONSTER THAT CHALLENGED THE WORLD (1957)

I wasn't going to review this flick.  It was supposed to be a time waster, something to cool the sodden ducts of my brain after a hard day of...um, eating street tacos and listening to black metal.  Hey, I needed a break.  But as I watched The Monster That Challenged the World, I realized that it was playing chess where other b-pictures from the 50's would play checkers.  As far as metaphors go, that was pretty lousy, but I'm sticking with it.  Simply put, this seaside creature feature brings the heat.  Plus, I can technically file it under "aquatic horror," so you can add gratuity to the bill.  The plot is standard.  After an earthquake tears a fissure in the ocean floor, an aggressive, atomically-charged strain of mollusks seeps through the vents, attacking Navy parachute jumpers and lovebird night swimmers alike.  I can hear you now.  "A mollusk?"  Yes, they could be called distant cousins to the snail (or the suburban couch dad).  Off the top of my head, I can't name any other mollusk mutants.  Can you?

We're dealing with a plurality of monsters, but we only see them one at a time.  And they are fantastic.  They challenge the world alright, but what gives the screenplay a dash of zest is a pronounced sense of humor and a collection of folks you are conditioned to care about.  You can tell that writers Pat Fielder and David Duncan actually liked the characters they created.  As much as I value a corpse that has been drained of all fluids, I became attached to the leads myself.  This film is not without blemish.  You could probably trim ten minutes from the running time, which isn't particularly long to begin with.  I'm picking at nits.  The Monster That Challenged the World is available to stream on Amazon Prime.  Do it.  At this point, Amazon should just pay me to write these capsules.  I've always wanted an opportunity to sell out and litigate my integrity.  Why, I could challenge the world!

Contest? Contest!

Hopefully, I've picked up some new readers in recent weeks.  If so, welcome!  Every so often, I run a contest, a very cool, very random giveaway that is super easy to enter.  All you have to do is click HERE, join my Facebook group, and...that's it!  The winner will be chosen at random (are you sensing a theme yet?).  You have two weeks to enter.  U.S. residents only.

So what will you win?  A care package full of movies, comic books, magazines, maybe cassette tapes, and whatever else I decide to throw in.  It will help if you're into metal and/or horror.  Just saying.  Dig it?  Dig it!

Blood Capsule #279

FINAL DESTINATION (2000)

Typically, I cower in the comfortable bowels of obscurity, but every once in awhile, I like to review a film that might have been watched by other human eyes.  It's not without precedent.  I do flirt with the mainstream.  Whether it flirts back or not, well, that's why I always crawl back into the darkness.  But before I do!  Let's talk about Final Destination, a movie I have now seen twice.  Upon the first viewing, I was a pesky, mercurial teenager, and I wasn't crazy about it.  I remember feeling that it was a paint-by-numbers slasher disguised as something more intellectual.  For some reason, I resented it for being popular with the horror crowd.  I was weird back then.  Okay, weirder.  After revisiting this slick supernatural thriller (???), I've decided to change my tune.  Teenaged Dom wasn't right about everything, despite his claims to the contrary.

I don't know that I can pinpoint one aspect of Final Destination that worked its magic on me.  But overall, it did.  The story of a high schooler cheating death, while not entirely novel, does allow for folks such as Devon Sawa and Ali Larter to deliver poised performances with pathos.  The death sequences strike a happy balance between painstakingly precise (the shower cord strangulation) and straight-up grotesque (the railway decapitation).  There are plenty of chills and spills, enough to make this an optimal date movie (y'know, if you're into that sort of thing).  Still, I wouldn't say this was my favorite of the franchise.  I need to revisit them to be sure, but it's hard to go wrong with A.J. Cook in Final Destination 2.  Man, teenaged Dom was head over heels for her back in the day.  I guess he was right some of the time.  Does this flick even require a recommendation?  I'll recommend it anyway...for fans of late 90's cheese and departure lounges.  Don't forget departure lounges.

See my acting debut!

Click HERE to check out the trailer for Venus Die Trap...!  It's a love letter to monster movies from the 1950's, and a certain someone has a pivotal (I should probably put that in quotation marks) role as a scholarly professor.  It's seriously cool.

I'll let you know when there is a release date.  Coming soon!

Blood Capsule #278

LOBSTER MAN FROM MARS (1989)

I know I've been writing a lot of disclaimers lately (or so it seems), but I have another one for you.  This isn't a horror film.  By strict definition, it was probably in the comedy section at Blockbuster.  For reasons that will become obvious, it's perfect for me.  It does borrow from horror about as much as it borrows from science fiction.  Of course, with a title like Lobster Man from Mars, it could be a concourse of commercial breaks taped off of The Discovery Channel, and I would still watch it.  The plot harnesses one of my favorite tropes, that being the movie-within-a-movie angle.  Tony Curtis plays J.P. Shelldrake, a role originally intended for Orson Welles (he died before production got underway).  He's a big shot Hollywood producer who has commissioned so many hits, his accountant informs him that he needs to lose money on a picture to outmaneuver the IRS.  Essentially, he needs an infallible flop.  That's when he meets Stevie Horowitz, a young filmmaker with the misdirected gumption of Ed Wood.

Right off the bat, I see a flaw.  It's the only flaw, so hear me out.  Stevie screens his film for Mr. Shelldrake.  The film at hand is "Lobster Man from Mars," which is supposed to be embarrassingly inadequate.  The premise of this whole ordeal hinges on Stevie's pet project being an absolute joke, but...it's not that bad.  It's actually entertaining.  Like, incredibly entertaining.  Maybe I'm revealing my taste (if you're new here, my taste should always be called into question), but I couldn't find anything wrong with it.  Not even the special effects are as deplorable as Lobster Man from Mars wants you to believe.  It's worth noting that 90% of the movie is the movie-within-a-movie.  So when you rent Lobster Man from Mars from Blockbuster, just know that you're basically renting Lobster Man from Mars.  And that's stupendous, if you ask me.  I was utterly captivated by the story of an extraterrestrial crustacean entrusted with the responsibility of retrieving ten pascals* of Earth air and bringing them back to Mars.  You will be, too.

I can't sign off without mentioning the fact that Lobster Man from Mars has a secret weapon.  Any guesses?  Space bats!  You can't leave home without 'em.

*I took the liberty of dreaming up that statistic.  It sounded scientific.

Blood Stains

In an effort to drag more eyeballs over to my Patreon, I'm cooking up some Patreon-exclusive content.  To be specific, I'm cooking up...Blood Stains!  What are Blood Stains?  Basically, they are mini-mini-reviews of movies I catch that won't be receiving the full Blood Capsule treatment.  They are low-effort and meant to be low-stress by design.  So y'know, don't expect poetry.

Click HERE.  I appreciate any and all support!

Blood Capsule #277

THE RESURRECTION OF ZACHARY WHEELER (1971)

Disclaimer: I came very close to shutting this thing off halfway through.  I'm glad that I didn't, as it did manage to buoy itself and bounce back from the precipice of dud-dom.  So what am I talking about?  This is a small-scale sci-fi cheapie that is noteworthy for a couple of reasons.  It was the first American feature to be shot on video and transferred to film.  In addition, it was one of the first genre titles to trifle with the subject of cloning.  But you wouldn't know that from the first thirty minutes.  The set-up is so needlessly confusing, I was reaching for...well, anything that would help.  A calculator, an abacus, a translator, an analgesic, anything.  An already gray Leslie Nielsen (I think he popped out of the womb with an AARP membership) stars as Harry Walsh, a TV reporter with auspicious access to a breaking news item.  U.S. Senator Zachary Wheeler was involved in an auto collision, but when Harry tries to follow up at the hospital, the patient is nowhere to be found.

Political intrigue is the name of the game, which aside from being a bit dry, takes an unfashionably long time to unravel itself.  I'm not going to drill too deeply into the mechanics of the plot, but this is almost a zombie romp.  Here, the droning automatons are neither live nor dead.  They merely exist to harvest organs for a list of people that the government deems as important.  They are called "somas."  A soma is injected with DNA, so they could be considered clones.  And that's interesting, I guess.  I don't know.  I would be on board if Wheeler ended with a bang, as opposed to a whimper.  On the bright side, the cast takes the material seriously, and as I mentioned earlier, the inert pacing does pick up.  Check it out?  Question mark?  The Resurrection of Zachary Wheeler feels like the kind of movie that Nielsen's character in Creepshow would own on Blu-ray.  I have no idea if that's a compliment or not.

Director Bob Wynn served as producer on Cellar Dweller.  This is your friendly reminder that Cellar Dweller is freakin' awesome.  That is all.

May is going to be...

I was going to tease this announcement, but I think I'll announce it instead.  May is going to be - insert drumroll here - Random Sequel Month...part two.  Like most sequels, this one is sure to be worse than the first!

PS-Predator 2 rules, but I won't be reviewing it.  I just needed a very cool, very random picture.

Blood Capsule #276

THE BRAIN (1988)

Creepozoids rules!  Yes, I'm talking about the 1987 David DeCoteau creature feature.  It started up automatically after I watched The Brain on Amazon Prime.  I had to watch it, didn't I?  Turns out, it was way better than I remembered.  Maybe I should start over.  The Brain rules!  I don't think this counts as a subgenre, but for what it's worth, I'm a big fan of brain-themed sci-fi/horror.  Give me everything from Head of the Family to The Brain That Wouldn't Die.  This film doubles as a droll satire, though I wouldn't call it a horror/comedy hybrid.  The regal David Gale stars as Dr. Blake, a Dr. Phil type who claims to know how to control your wild teenager (okay, so maybe he's more Jenny Jones than Dr. Phil).  Behind closed doors, Blake is mining the power of a giant brain monster to manipulate his viewers into committing acts of violence.  We don't learn much about the monster.  Now that I mention it...

...Gale is the true villain, and while I do wish he was given a meatier role, his presence alone nudges The Brain into 4-Z'Dar terrain.  The special effects are splashy and flamboyant.  I don't care if I can see a couple of crew members pushing the brain (y'know, in The Brain) down various corridors.  It's not flagrant, and besides, that is one great monster.  The protagonists are on the bland side.  They don't do anything wrong, but they are overshadowed by their surroundings.  For whatever reason, I didn't care for Tom Bresnahan as Jim, the focal point with high school quarterback looks.  Here again, he does nothing wrong, but he has a punchable face.  These are piddling objections.  The Brain is yet another 80's flick that deserves more plaudits than it receives.  At 94 minutes, it doesn't overstay its welcome.  Creepozoids only runs for 72 minutes, so you might as well watch both.

Random Song Alert

Obtained Enslavement!  They were an extremely underrated black metal band out of Norway.  The song is "Symbolic," and no, it's not a Death cover.  It's just two minutes of blasty goodness with a touch of acoustic guitar here and there.  This stuff is addictive.

Blood Capsule #275

DREAMSCAPE (1984)

1984 was a most propitious year.  Why, it saw the birth of two maniacal bastards - Freddy Krueger and...me!  Putting aside the fact that I'm entirely too old, let's talk about Freddy for a minute.  Actually, let's talk about coincidences.  Dreamscape was released a couple of months before A Nightmare on Elm Street.  Both films deal with the topic of dreams.  More specifically, they both posit the theory that if you die in your dream, you die in reality.  Here's another weird coincidence that I can't believe I haven't seen others dissect (I'm sure someone has, but I can't read every review).  At one point, a key antagonist in Dreamscape kills a character in the "dream world" by stabbing them with razors that pop out of his fingers.  Insane, right?  Am I the only nutjob dumbfounded here?  I guess I should continue with the review.  Dreamscape doesn't reach the cinematic heights of Elm Street, but it's a fine horror/fantasy crossbreed that is also notable for being the second film to earn a PG-13 rating.

Dennis Quaid stars as Alex, an ordinary guy with extraordinary abilities.  He's a telepath, and the local university wants to use him for the purposes of sleep research.  A scientist (Max von Sydow, if you can believe it) has figured out how to link the brains of two unconscious parties.  Party #1 can jump into Party #2's dream, and he can even manipulate the contents of said dream.  There is a lot of exposition to unpack, but eventually, the President (y'know, of the United States) gets involved.  If only movies could cross over into one another, Freddy could have landed a sweet gig as a hitman.  Yes, there is an assassination plot, and yes, you are required to suspend disbelief to enjoy the show.  In essence, I enjoyed the show.  The cast is high-class, the effects are special (more on that in, like, two seconds), and the pacing is snappy.  Oh, and we get a stop-motion monster.  I should have opened with that, but we're privy to the nightmares of a little boy.  That's where we meet The Snakeman!  Exclamation point!

You're right.  This whole capsule should have been squarely focused on The Snakeman.  My apologies.  In my defense, he only appears in two (rad) dream sequences.  Dreamscape merely qualifies as horror-adjacent, but if you dig Freddy, I don't see why you wouldn't dig this bit of business.  Random trivia!  Director Joseph Ruben is a pro when it comes to domestic thrillers (you could argue that Dreamscape falls into that category).  He also helmed The Stepfather and Sleeping with the Enemy.

Now Playing #18

Havukruunu - Tavastland

The average metalhead will run across eleventy billion bands that they cannot pronounce.  The bands in question might rule, but you can forget about telling your nextdoor neighbor about them without pen and paper present.  Actually, your nextdoor neighbor probably wouldn't dig Havukruunu anyway.  Putting aside the fact that I can't pronounce their songtitles (they sing in Finnish, their native tongue), I am madly in love with Havukruunu.  They play folk-infused black metal, although the band members themselves simply refer to the music as "metal."  And they aren't wrong.  This metal is conducive to toe-tapping and/or head-nodding (or just straight-up headbanging, especially if you're in public).  Every song - I repeat, every song - comes equipped with a splashy, sumptuous guitar solo.  "But Dom, what if the song doesn't call for a solo?"  Shut up, kid.  You're no fun.

It's only March, but I'm confident that Tavastland will show up on my year-end list.  It's abounding with color, despite the monochromatic artwork.  Favorite tunes?  "Kuolematon Laulunhenki," and dude, listen to "Kuoleman Oma."  You won't be able to resist that level of shred.  I'll also recommend the rest of Havukruunu's discography, which includes three full-lengths and a pair of (rad) EPs.

Scour - Gold

I realize that Pantera has become a bit of a joke in the underground, but I harbor no guilt when I say that Phil Anselmo is one of my favorite vocalists of all time.  Sign me up for any of his projects.  I nearly wore out my copy of the first Superjoint Ritual record.  Scour might be his most extreme outlet.  On their first three releases (all of them EPs), the band trafficked in tightly-wound death/black metal full of blastbeats and some of Phil's nastiest barks to date.  Gold is essentially more of the same, only nuanced and slightly fleshed out.  Here again, the vocals range from vein-rupturing screams to deeper roars.  I'm struggling to make an apt comparison, as he fills out the entire tracklist with a unique tone.  With regards to his low-register delivery, I know he's a Morbid Angel fan.  Maybe somewhere between Steve Tucker and Covenant-era David Vincent?

Of course, we're all Morbid Angel fans, but you know what I mean.  I'm a Scour fan.  Gold contains their best material, in my estimation.  Check out "Infusorium" and "Coin."  Quick sidenote...the latter features a guest solo by Gary Holt.

Blood Capsule #274

FROM HELL IT CAME (1957)

"For each of man's evils, there is a tree stump."  Wait, that can't be right.  I'm confusing my tales of vengeance.  From Hell it Came could have influenced Pumpkinhead, but then, it could have influenced a whole host of horror films that focus on a character who has been wrongfully accused of murder.  Here, an island prince is sentenced to a voodoo execution for the curious death of the tribal chief.  Of course, he maintains his innocence and places a curse on everyone involved.  A nasty tree stump grows around the topsoil of his grave, but that's only one possible origin story.  There is also the legend of Tabonga, an aboriginal chief who returned from the dead as ambulatory foliage.  But wait, there's more!  The locals report having seen nuclear fallout.  Geez, this flick can't seem to pick a lane.  All you need to know is that it concerns a deadly fir...no, pine...no, maple...it concerns a deadly tree.  And it's awesome.

Yep, this monster is evergreen.  Tabonga was designed by a gentleman named Paul Blaisdell, and I wish I could give him a hug.  If you leaf through reviews on IMDb, you'll find a proverbial orchard of negative remarks.  I don't know what these folks were expecting, but considering the tenuous budget, From Hell it Came delivers the goods.  Once the main players are introduced, there isn't much dillying (or dallying).  I suppose that the natives could be a little less, shall we say, pasty?  It's a minor bellyache.  I mean, it was 1957.  You can't fault the film for not being culturally sensitive.  I could see it pissing off a few trees, though.  Recommended to fans of Seedpeople, The Day of the Triffids, The Woman Eater, and jungle rot.  Don't forget jungle rot.

Random Match Alert

Ask me why I'm watching The Undertaker vs. Giant Gonzalez from Wrestlemania 9.  Go ahead, ask.  I...do not know.  But I'll always be a mark for ol' Jorge Gonzalez, silly gimmicks be damned.  This particular 'Mania is routinely debased by WWE freaks.  Eh, I don't mind saying it's my favorite, mainly because of nostalgia.  I'm still waiting for officially licensed Giant Gonzalez merchandise in the form of shirts and/or hats.  I have a feeling I'll be waiting for awhile...

Blood Capsule #273

THE COFFEE TABLE (2022)

This will be an extremely difficult review to write.  Basically, I have to sell you on The Coffee Table without telling you anything about it.  In fact, just stop reading.  It's available on Shudder.  Watch it, then get back to me.  I will reveal this much; I knew about the film's "gimmick" (that isn't really the right word) beforehand, and I still enjoyed myself.  So maybe it's not that big of a deal, but...I wish that I had gone in blind.  It's up to you.  What the hell can I say here?  The Coffee Table concerns a coffee table.  Don't expect a supernatural contingency.  There are no ghosts or goblins, nor is the coffee table made of wood sourced from a witch's bonfire.  There is no villain per se.  Is it even a horror film, you ask?  Absolutely.  It's 100% horror, and while the script flirts with black comedy and histrionic melodrama, the characters find themselves in truly horrifying situations.  Maybe tag it as "furniture horror" alongside Mirror, Mirror and Amityville 4: The Evil Escapes.

The acting is top-notch.  David Pareja is believable as a father who simply wants to protect his family.  You can understand the extreme decisions he makes, even if you take the judgmental route and you don't think you would ever be in his shoes.  The point of The Coffee Table is that you could be in his shoes.  What if?  What would you do?  It's frustrating to speak in such opaque terms, but again, it's best if you go in fresh.  An honorable mention goes out to Estefania de los Santos.  She gives a grounded performance, although it did take me awhile to warm up to her.  The last twenty minutes are unreal.  I don't know if I'm ready to hand out a 5-Z'Dar rating to a movie that hasn't had a chance to age gracefully.  I'm tempted!  I totally dug The Coffee Table, and yeah, you should check it out.  Without delay.

Random Song Alert

This was a random pull, but it will cool your jets on a carefree Sunday evening.  Well, if you're into fiendish black/death metal.

Blood Capsule #272

DESTINATION INNER SPACE (1966)

Don't look now, but I'm in my wheelhouse again.  If only I could stay here indefinitely.  For the uninitiated, my wheelhouse involves fishmen.  This one is a little more fish than man.  It's also from outer space, but hold your (sea) horses.  I can't actually remember how or where I learned about this mini-submersible, but I'm glad that I did.  Revisiting Destination Inner Space, I wondered aloud how it wasn't a cult classic held in high esteem.  All of the right ingredients are present.  A chiseled, wildly misogynistic Scott Brady turns in a proficient performance as a naval commander reporting to an underwater laboratory.  Sonar has detected an unidentified object floating ever closer to home base.  It's soon revealed to be a probe that isn't from around here.  The hovercraft contains a strange capsule, and no, it's not full of blood.  As it happens, it's fraught with a fishman, a righteous rascal with an orange mohawk (technically, it's a fleshy ridge, but I'm sticking with "mohawk").

Once our monster is introduced, the camera isn't timid when it comes to glamour shots of Gillman from Space.  He seems to know he's the star of the show.  Now, I'll level with you; the pace could be described as somewhat laborious.  There are a few moments of dead air, but I was sold on this flick from the very first frame.  I'm willing to overlook certain flaws, flaws that might be damaging to someone who doesn't have a predilection for this sub-subgenre.  I think we all have cases where we look the other way as it relates to a movie's deficiencies.  For instance, I refuse to believe that Spookies isn't pitch-perfect.  I better wrap this up before my tangent charters an oblique course through redundancy (sorry, Spookies brings out the worst in me).  Definitely give Destination Inner Space a whirl, even if it's just for the scene in which Gillman from Space is restrained and basically handcuffed.  It's too much, man.

Grog

Sometimes, I'll watch two movies and decide what to review the next day.  Last night, I watched Tentacles and Monster in the Closet.  Coin toss?  Honestly, neither picture is particularly inspiring.  The latter was released by Troma, though I don't believe it was an in-house production.  Then again, it's suffused with Lloyd Kaufman's unsavory brand of humor, so who knows?  Clearly, I don't.  Also, I took a muscle relaxer a few hours ago.  I'm surprised I'm typing anything remotely coherent.

I'm going back to bed.

Blood Capsule #271 (Special Edition)

What's a Special Edition?  It's a new 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).  My goal is to write a Special Edition Blood Capsule once every couple of months.  We'll see how that goes!

PUMPKINHEAD (1988)

When I was a kid, Pumpkinhead was just a cool box at the video store.  Now, thirty viewings later (that's a conservative estimate), it's my third or fourth favorite film of all time.  Top five, easily.  In maintaining this website, I have developed a reputation as a monster guy, especially amongst my friends.  Well, Pumpkinhead is the monster movie.  It's perfect cinema, as far as I'm concerned.  The trick?  The film's entertainment value doesn't begin and end with special effects that are now considered legendary.  It has heart.  There's a reason why I chose the image you see above these words.  There is no shortage of killer visuals I could have went with, but they don't mean anything without the story of a father losing his son in a lamentable accident.  Lance Henriksen was born to play the role of Ed Harley, and if Pumpkinhead is ever given the remake treatment (I'm surprised it hasn't already happened), I pity the fool burdened with the task of stepping into those shoes.

Of course, the rest of the cast is superb.  No, splendiferous!  It's hard to believe that this was little Matthew Hurley's only screen credit.  Ed and Billy share, what, fifteen minutes of screen time?  Less if you disregard Hurley's post-mortal bit of acting.  And yet they hammer out a believable relationship, the kind that some of us remember from childhood through the silver-hued eyes of nostalgia.  When Billy dies in his father's arms, it's a punch to the small intestines that you feel in your gums.  But the film delivers in the "cool stuff" department as well.  The death sequences are brusque and anguished, matched by a multi-pronged score that ratchets up the intensity at just the right moments.  This may seem minor, but Pumpkinhead features one of the creepiest depictions of a witch in all of horrordom.  See, it really does have everything.  Stan Winston keeps the plot humming at a controlled pace.  It seems wrong somehow that this was his sole gig as a director (in the horror field anyway...no, A Gnome Named Norm doesn't come up to scratch).

I may or may not cover the sequels.  That's a...that's a situation.  Watch Pumpkinhead if you haven't!

Blood Capsule #270

THE UNKNOWN TERROR (1957)

This film was delivered to my doorstep at just the right time.  I've made it no secret that I've been in a rut in terms of what I've been watching.  Some people would take that as a hint and maybe - oh, I don't know - change their viewing habits.  Yeah, I don't see that happening anytime soon.  But again, I won't need to change anything if I can keep finding pearls like The Unknown Terror.  This is a heady slice of "scientific horror" where the antagonist seems drab on paper (shades of The Monolith Monsters).  After anatomizing the lyrics to a calypso song, scientists head off to the Caribbean in search of the fabled "cave of the dead."  Upon arrival, they are met with cold silence from the locals.  There is a doctor who may know where the cave is located, but he isn't saying much either.  Without spoiling everything, I can tell you that the unknown terror in The Unknown Terror is an aggressive fungus deleterious enough to cause gruesome deformities.

You know what that means, don't you?  Cave monsters!  It does take awhile to get to the good stuff, but the exposition is both tightly paced and written with panache.  The relationships between our leads are a little more complex than I was expecting.  At a certain point, a potential love triangle becomes a love...parallelogram?  I dug Paul Richards as Pete, a geophysicist who walks with a pronounced limp.  It could be said that this flick hobbles a bit, especially around the hour mark.  There are too many shots of people looking, studying, spelunking.  However, that's the only negative comment I can muster.  The Unknown Terror is engrossing.  I was just as intrigued by the human drama as I was by the spuming microbes.  And let me tell you, I love me some spuming microbes.  I know I already mentioned it, but if you enjoyed The Monolith Monsters (which came out the same year, coincidentally), you're going to want to hunt this baby down.  Also, I recommend it if you're really into the weathering of rock.

A few convention pics...

So yesterday, I attended Mad Monster Party, a rockin' horror convention here in North Carolina.  It's definitely the grandest, most opulent (???) con that I can call local.  I suppose most fans go to these things to meet certain celebrities and nab exorbitantly priced autographs, but with few exceptions, I go to buy stuff I don't need.  It's a tale as old as time.  What's that saying?  A fool and his money are about to part ways?  Yeah, that's me.  I'm the fool.  You can see my haul below.

I always forget to take pictures during these situations.  Clearly, I wasn't in the mood for photo ops, but Devon was cool enough to take a picture for free.  I did meet Darcy the Mail Girl, and unlike the last time, I managed to say intelligible words to her.  Small victories!

Taken just before I was powerbombed through a table.

Random clown!

Creepy dude on stilts.

My comic book haul.

My movie (and wrestler) haul.