Random Reviews

Effects

2012-02-16T20:45:00.005-05:00

What happens when a throng of George Romero's industry pals collaborate on a suspense thriller? Not a lot. I really wanted to like 1980's Effects. When I discovered that Tom Savini and Joe Pilato starred in a "lost" horror film, I figured that I was on the cusp of disinterring a rarefied bauble, a diamond in the rough. While the cast is adequate, the totality of Effects put my pulse out to pasture with the potency of an antihistamine. This is one slow flick. Substantial conflict doesn't rear its shuddersome head until the 60-minute mark. So what happens during the first hour? A bunch of nothing. Literally. I'm telling you, the exposition is aimless to a fault, and I'm not even comfortable calling it an exposition.

The basic premise could have worked in a more streamlined film (in fact, it did; see 2000's Shadow of the Vampire). We follow a director, a few actors, a cameraman, an effects technician and a gaffer as they shoot a low-budget shocker. As the project progresses, some of the crew members begin to question the mental stability of Lacey, the grand vizier (in transoceanic cultures, this figure is referred to as the "head honcho" or the "big cheese"). Eventually, we learn that Lacey is hellbent on engineering a snuff film. Holy shit. I just realized that this is a tame, suggestive version of A Serbian Film. Say what you want about A Serbian Film, but at least it's not boring. Effects is interminably bland.

Y'know, it's almost as if director Dusty Nelson was attempting to turn lethargy into an artform. As I said before, I wanted to dig this flick, but it's hard to become invested in an hour's worth of capricious, irresolute dialogue. Have I mentioned that nothing happens until the third act? Because nothing fucking happens. My God. The movie that the characters are shooting is more interesting than Effects, and I say that without a hint of sarcasm. You might be wondering where Savini and Pilato come into play. The former has a bit role as an obstinate cretin. He never gets enough credit for his acting chops, but he brings more to the table than prosthetic limbs. The latter gives a striking performance as Dom (hey, that's my name!), the sole protagonist.

I alluded to the talented cast in the opening paragraph, but I feel the need to expound on the acting. Everyone knows Pilato as the hostile, belligerent Rhodes in Day of the Dead. As many times as I've seen said zombie epic (at this point, I think I prefer it to Dawn of the Dead), it never crossed my mind for the duration of Effects. Dom and Rhodes are worlds apart, but here, Pilato proves that he can pull off the good guy. He's virtually unrecognizable. John Harrison is chilling as Lacey. There is a quiet menace in his stare that pervades each scene he steals. FACTOID: Harrison provided the score for Creepshow and Day of the Dead. In other words, he rules.

The finale is well-staged, but I didn't care what happened to these people. I was pooped as a result of the plodding pace. Still, Effects isn't universally panned. You may very well get more out of this film than I did, but I'm chalking it up as a daft novelty item.

Fuckshit

2012-02-15T21:53:00.003-05:00

I fell asleep during the movie. The last time this happened, the film in question received a less-than-favorable rating. Just saying.

Review coming tomorrow! For real!

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

2012-02-14T18:36:00.003-05:00

Ain't love grand? Tomorrow, I'm posting a movie review. The rest of the week will involve a match that time forgot, a panel from beyond the grave, more movie reviews, a blood capsule and hopefully, I'll have another issue of Vanity Scare ready to go by the end of the month (it depends on various factors).

Remember, if you have a wonderful Valentine's Day, try not to gloat, especially on Twitter/Facebook. I'm pretty sure I speak on behalf of most singles when I say that we don't need that shit.

Geek Out #44

2012-02-13T18:08:00.002-05:00

I don't care what anyone says. Half of the Leprechaun films (1, 3, 6) are rollicking shindigs, and I want a seventh chapter. Check out this clip from Entertainment Tonight that spotlights Leprechaun 2 with the help of MTV's John Sencio. Man, talk about nostalgia.

Album Cover of the Week

2012-02-12T20:00:00.000-05:00

The new Kreator album comes out later this year. As you can see, the artwork is fucking METAL.

Parts Unknown #98: Thunder

2012-02-11T23:45:00.004-05:00

I didn't want to sit through yet another match between Hunico and Ted DiBiase, so I'm taking a break from Smackdown (until next week, that is). This is a review of Thunder, WCW's topsy-turvy b-show. To be more specific, this episode aired on February 11, 1999. Woah, that was exactly thirteen years ago...my brain just imploded.

Thunder was wildly inconsistent. Some episodes seemed as if they were booked by Vince Russo on crack. Luckily, I chanced upon one of the "normal" episodes, though I use that word loosely. Since I'm dealing with vintage wrestling, I'll eschew the pros/cons format. And yes, that's a picture of Glacier. I couldn't find a suitable Thunder logo.

~ We're in the thick of a double-elimination tag team tournament? This could be interesting. By the time '99 rolled around, WCW's tag division was a bit of a mess. Most of the teams in this tournament were makeshift dyads comprised of singles stars. Our first bout pits Mike Enos and Bobby Duncum Jr. against Faces of Fear. Wait, Faces of Fear had a brief run in '99? With Jimmy Hart as their manager? The action is solid. Fuck, Meng is a bad, bad man. I love how he shakes off a piledriver like he was slapped in the face by Lord Littlebrook. If only the finish made sense. The Barbarian turns on Meng at the behest of Jimmy Hart. Why??? I assume that a push was in the cards, but guess what? This was the last time that The Barbarian was remotely relevant. There goes that idea!

~ Chris Kanyon (formerly known as Mortis) visits Raven at his sumptuous home. Raven has bamboozled his mother into believing that he is riding out a deep depression. Naturally, she is worried about him, so she asks Chris to watch him while she's gone. Raven proceeds to withdrawal funds from his bank account, and he treats Chris to an exorbitant shopping spree. We watch them shop for clothes. I swear to God. Maybe it's supposed to be an in-joke since Kanyon was gay in real life. I don't know. This is WCW's Thunder, kids.

~ Cruiserweights! We get an up-and-coming Lash LeRoux opposite Super Calo. This was a lively, kinetic match. They were given plenty of time, and I appreciate the clean pinfall.

~ In the funniest backstage segment that I've seen in quite awhile, we see Glacier trying to sell his gimmick to Ernest "The Cat" Miller. I mean, he pawns off the entrance music, the mood lighting, the ridiculous outfit...everything. Kaz Hayashi ends up buying the whole lot. Priceless.

~ Another tag match, this time involving Fit Finlay/Dave Taylor and Billy Kidman/Chavo Guerrero. A nice blend of styles, but it leads to the second partner betrayal of the night. This was WCW's biggest problem in the late 90's/early 00's (well, apart from short, meaningless title reigns). There were way too many turns, both heel and face. Every man and woman on the roster played the part of a backstabber at least once, and if they didn't, they were the ones being stabbed in the back.

~ Holy shit. That was an amazing video package. It built up the tag team tournament, it reviewed the paragon history of the WCW Tag Team Championship and it made the titles look prestigious. Why can't the WWE stitch a similar video package together to aid their dying tag division?

~ A Disco Inferno match. Next!

~ Wow. The main event could be featured as a Match That Time Forgot. Here we have Chris Benoit/Dean Malenko versus Kaz Hayashi/Van Hammer. Of course, Hayashi approaches the ring in full Glacier regalia. Surprisingly, this is a tight match. The fans go home happy.

I need to review Thunder more often.

College is kewl!

2012-02-11T19:05:00.002-05:00

I just had to post this. You've probably seen this commercial, but if not, hold onto something. It's an advertisement for some website (a website that is largely useless for anyone who knows how to use Google), but that's neither here nor there. They're trying to appeal to teenagers, so they hired a desperate producer to write a catchy pop/rock number about college. They hired a desperate pop starlet hopeful to sing the jingle, and to make her look kewl, they dressed her in a trendy (as of 1990) jacket. To add insult to injury to statutory rape, they utilized the cheesiest video effects known to mankind.

Did they actually think that modern day teenagers would identify with this shit? This commercial would only work on people like Zack Morris and Samuel Powers.

PS-I'll be back later tonight with a special edition of Parts Unknown.

The Innkeepers

2012-02-10T22:35:00.006-05:00

Look out for Ti West. In the past, horror journalists have been quick to peg aspiring auteurs as the next John Carpenter or the next George Romero. I distinctly remember Eli Roth being embrocated by Fangoria and Rue Morgue before Cabin Fever hit theaters. There was no point in debating it; he was elected as this generation's "master of horror," and that was that. Well, it's my turn to make a bold statement about the future of fright flicks. Ti West is one of several impious minds who is going to be panegyrized by those same journalists decades down the road. They'll call him legendary, eminent, illustrious. They might even use a fancy word like "lionized." Don't believe me? He already has a few fan favorites under his belt.

2005's The Roost served as my introduction to Mr. West, a protege of cult veteran Larry Fessenden (if that name sounds familiar, it's because Larry helmed Habit and Wendigo, among other independent chillers). It was a decent flick that centered around mutant bats. Nothing groundbreaking, but it was on par with Bats (it was definitely better than 1979's Nightwing). 2009's The House of the Devil generated a groundswell of buzz. I found it to be a plodding flatliner with loads of potential. I know what you're thinking. "Um, didn't you praise Ti West in the opening paragraph?" Yes, I did. In spite of the fact that neither Roost nor Devil floored me, I could tell that there was a supremely talented horror aficionado behind the camera. I knew that it was only a matter of time before West honed his skills and tightened his craft. He just needed a tune-up.

Which (finally) brings me to The Innkeepers. This is a simple ghost story, so I won't fidget with a synopsis. I'll start with the characters. Everyone is fleshed out. It's a testament to how West has matured as a writer. Sara Paxton is incredible as Claire, a role that could have easily been a throwaway heroine with flat dialogue and conventional personality traits. Thankfully, she is written as a three-dimensional human being. Kudos to Paxton for giving a performance that I didn't think she was capable of giving. I love the fact that West worked a role reversal into the script. Here, the female lead is nerdy and overanxious, while the male lead is cynical and reserved. Pat Healy is rock solid as Luke. Again, his character is extremely well-developed, and we learn more about him as the film progresses.

I'm stressing the significance of the characterizations for a reason. In my humble opinion, the attentive script is the best thing about this unearthly fable. That's not to say that The Innkeepers is visually destitute. I dug the oblique camera angles, the clever use of darkness and the disciplined style of editing. In terms of pacing, the film does skitter to the edge of "boring," but it manages to stay within the boundaries of "methodical." Any nagging issues? To me, the ending left too many questions unanswered. It wouldn't bother me if it was meant to be open to interpretation, but something tells me that wasn't the case. Also, I expected a certain character to be an emotional wreck during the epilogue, and he wasn't. That's all I can say without dropping spoilers left and right.

In conclusion, The Innkeepers is cool. Watch it.

(un)Titled

2012-02-09T22:43:00.002-05:00

So far, February hasn't been a very productive month at the offices of Random Reviews Incorporated. That should change soon. I'm thinking that next week will contain more movie reviews than usual. Maybe I'll post one tomorrow. Who knows? As for today, my pockets are empty. Keep checking back, though. This site tends to have a mind of its own.

I caved in...

2012-02-08T20:40:00.002-05:00

I'm not proud of this, but I caved in and forcefully shoved The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim up my computer's ass. As a general rule, I try to circumnavigate nerd traps like World of Warcraft and Dungeons & Dragons. I'm too cool for that shit, aren't I? That's what some people want to believe, but at the end of the day, I'm the loser who sat back and watched everyone else have fun in High School. I'm a goddamn nerd. There is no way around it. Skyrim seems to be a rarity, an RPG that I would enjoy playing. So why not take the plunge?

Well, the cessation of my social life will have to wait because my graphics card sucks dragon cock. I'll buy a new one at some point, and when I do, I'll move mountains to make sure that I don't start slacking off on the site. I realize that Skyrim is addictive, but surely I can prioritize. Hey, you know what would help me prioritize? Donations! Click the "donate" button on the right-hand side of the page. You know you want to.

Blood Capsule #5

2012-02-07T23:14:00.002-05:00

JAWS OF SATAN (1981)

What do you get when you cross Jaws with The Exorcist? Easy! You get...a "killer snake" movie? Did this script ferment in a plashet of yeast-addled urine in the center of an opium den? Is the script even real? Because I'm still not convinced that I just watched a film about a Satanic cobra. You read that right. A small town (these things never happen in medium-sized towns) is blitzed by a rash of snake bites, and it seems that the censurable serpents are all slithering in the same direction. Father Farrow, a case-hardened preacher, believes that this rattlesnake rebellion could be a harbinger of evil. To his credit, he is skeptical at first, but after probing his family history, he realizes that he is being stalked by Lucifer himself.

Why Lucifer found it necessary to harass an insular whistle-stop under the guise of a snake is anyone's best guess. My guess? He needs a fucking hobby. Naturally, Jaws of Satan is a harmless, harebrained b-flick. I quite liked it. Fritz Weaver (more commonly known as Professor Stanley in Creepshow) holds up his end of the bargain as our reverent lead. The exposition is meatier than I expected, although the anticlimactic finale left a bitter taste in my mouth. It was either that or the stale croutons.

Matches That Time Forgot #29

2012-02-06T22:37:00.002-05:00

I've used this column to talk about Bryan Clark in the past. He was known as Adam Bomb in the WWF before transposing himself over to the disarray of WCW. He debuted as Wrath, and he often tagged with Mortiis (most underrated gimmick of the 90's, says me). Eventually, Mortiis lost his mask, and Wrath was repackaged as a monster babyface. The crowd loved him. The powers that be obliged him with an auspicious push, but his momentum was extinguished by a self-seeking Kevin Nash. This match took place while Wrath was still ascending WCW's totem pole. His opponent? A post-ultimate Renegade.

What do I mean by post-ultimate? Some of you may be familiar with The Renegade, but for those blissfully unaware, he was rolled out in 1995 as The Ultimate Warrior Jr. The term "ripoff" would be a glaring understatement. Rick Wilson (the poor bastard beneath the tassels) was given a World Television Championship reign as The Renegade, but the character fizzled in 1996. Today's match that time forgot aired in 1998. At this point, Eric Bischoff had access to the real Warrior. Wilson kept "The Renegade" as his moniker, but he looked like any other generic musclehead. Relegated to jobber status, his career was on the skids.

Sadly, Wilson committed suicide the following year. Goodness gracious, I didn't realize how depressing this blurb would become. Enjoy the clip!

Album Cover of the Week

2012-02-05T18:00:00.002-05:00

Thanks to Matt for the assist!

Parts Unknown #97: Smackdown

2012-02-04T22:50:00.003-05:00

Hold up, playa. We're gonna have ourselves a Smackdown review! And it's gonna happen...next!

PROS

~ Cody Rhodes is good, but if creative had anything for him, he would be great. I loved how he upstaged Sheamus and made his Royal Rumble victory look nugatory. "I did all the work." His mic skills are improving each week, it seems. The resultant match was excellent. They worked in a number of fresh moves (I'm growing weary of established talents cycling through signature spots without introducing new offense), and their timing was downright scientific. Are my eyes deceiving me or did Sheamus cop David Otunga's finisher? Back to the drawing board, Mr. Hudson.

~ Daniel Bryan heeling it up. He doesn't have CM Punk's natural charisma, but his promo was entertaining.

~ I dig Tamina. Of course, that doesn't mean much. If Vince ever decides to have a real women's division, she could be a dependable workhorse.

~ I'll list the Orton/Barrett match as a pro by virtue of its smooth execution, but I'm sick of seeing these two brawl. What is this, their fourth encounter in less than a month? Also, I disagree with the clean pin. Why build up Barrett's "barrage" if you're just going to feed him to your pet snake?

~ A.J. sighting! More please.

CONS

~ Khali, huh? Yeah, I don't get that. I'd rather have Jinder Mahal in the Elimination Chamber.

~ Will Santino tag with a different goofball every week for the foreseeable future? If so, I'll take advantage of Microsoft Word's suicide note template. Oh, there isn't one? Well, I guess I can customize the cover letter template.

~ Mom, this isn't your fault. Oopsy-daisy! I thought I had switched over to the suicide note. Anyway, Natalya's fart gimmick strikes again. She's probably typing up her suicide note right now.

Fuck you, world. Damn, I did it again!

Screams of a Winter Night

2012-02-03T22:11:00.005-05:00

Sometimes, I think that society wants us to break the law. How else can you explain the hapless circumstances surrounding a remote albatross like 1979's Screams of a Winter Night? If you're reading this review, chances are, you're a devout horror fan. It would stand to reason that you know how frustrating it is trying to find a copy of an obscure film. If it hasn't been released on DVD, obtaining the videotape can be a fruitless endeavor. When it comes to the subject of today's review, a used VHS would set me back upwards of $100. Bullshit, right? I am left with two options. I can bend over for some dickhead on eBay or I can resort to bootlegging. And I'm not talking about moonshine, although it was considered as a tenable alternative.

I'm off on a tangent (again), but I wanted to stress how obscure this film is. Screams is a low-budget anthology championed by the likes of Quentin Tarantino and Dom Coccaro. It never gets the credit it deserves for beating others to the punch with respect to immortalizing urban legends on the silver screen. It was also one of the first genre treats to milk the "camping getaway" motif, fireplace gatherings and all. However, my intention is not to hype this flick up as a horror landmark. Screams is faulty, but first things first. It's worth mentioning that there are three vignettes sheathed in a tense wrap-around story. This anthology is unique in that the wrap-around story occupies half of the running time.

Oddly enough, the anecdotes are presented as afterthoughts. The first segment, an effective Bigfoot yarn that was essentially reiterated in Urban Legend, lasts a mere ten minutes. "The Green Light" is more in-depth, but it's achingly simple. We only see two different sets. "Crazy Annie" could have evolved into a disturbing character study, but the script is in too much of a hurry to study any of its characters. Screenwriter Richard Wadsack (dude, that's why God invented pseudonyms) focuses on the people telling us these stories. That is both a positive and a negative. It's a positive because the bookend plot ends on a gratifying note. It's a negative because I was in the mood for a true anthology. None of the vignettes are as involved as "The Crate" or "The Raft."

On the upside, Screams is dripping with atmosphere. This is the movie that Campfire Tales wanted to be. It nimbly encapsulates the feeling of being alone in a forest in the middle of the night. I won't lie; there were scenes that creeped me out, and that's coming from the most jaded cinephile in North America. The last fifteen minutes are killer. Surprisingly, the cast is stellar (relatively speaking). Each actor tackles dual roles, which confused me in the early going. I didn't understand why Crazy Annie was a spitting image of Cold Bitch Jookie. Yes, I added the "cold bitch" part. What? She's a cold bitch! But I digress...if you luck into hunting down Screams of a Winter Night, don't pass it up.

Lazing on a Thursday Afternoon

2012-02-02T22:07:00.001-05:00

Lazy day. Motion picture review tomorrow.

Geek Out #43

2012-02-01T22:10:00.002-05:00

Mark Patton (of Freddy's Revenge fame) is one of my friends on Facebook. Obviously, we're not actual friends, but he does go out of his way to communicate with fans. In fact, he wished me a Happy Birthday when I turned 27 last September. That makes him a class act, in my book. At any rate, he posted this video a few days ago, and I knew instantly that it was Geek Out material germane to horror freaks.

What is it exactly? It's a retail promotional clip for A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors. These promos would be sent to rental joints and "places where videos are sold" to stir up circulation. I can't imagine why retailers would need convincing to stock a franchise as popular as Elm Street, but what do I know?

Exivious - EXIVIOUS

2012-01-31T21:43:00.003-05:00

I should warn you that this review will be loaded with similes. I do my best to avoid the exploitation of literary devices, but this album calls for baroque metonymy. I'm going to objectify the English language like Dario Argento objectifies his daughter's mouth-watering bare flesh. Describing Exivious is no easy task. If you listen to jazz fusion on a regular basis, you should already be familiar with this eclectic cartel of musicians. The line-up boasts members of Cynic and Pestilence. Naturally, Cynic is the first point of reference that critics fall back on, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to draw parallels between the two bands. They both play progressive metal that ratchets melody and technicality up to inconceivable heights.

Cynic and Exivious part ways when it comes to vocals. Paul Masvidal employs abrasive growling and vocoder-enhanced crooning in the former group, while the latter group steps back and leaves all of the expressive emoting to the music itself. That's right; Exivious is an instrumental outfit. If that's a deal breaker from where you're sitting, then I have no use for you as a human being. Perhaps I'm overstating the obvious, but I'm hyper-sensitive to the "musically challenged." A friend of mine once played Metallica's "Orion" during English class in High School, and the majority of my fellow students derided the song for its lack of vocals. I'm not sure what I was expecting from a bunch of jocks and cheerleaders, but still, it pissed me off. Anyway!

There are scads of bands who claim to be jazz/metal hybrids. I've given most of them a chance, but with very few exceptions, I didn't hear much jazz. Exivious is the genuine article. As a matter of fact, this album is more jazz than metal. Everything from the time signatures to the rhythmic phrasing to the chord progressions to the plaintive melodies...every inch of it screams jazz. And it's fucking amazing. These guys are supremely talented. Hell, "talented" is almost an affront. "Virtuoso" is closer to the truth, though it doesn't do Exivious justice. You have to listen to all nine tracks to truly appreciate the chops on display. I'd start with "Ripple of a Tear" if I were you.

There are a couple of ways that you can enjoy this eponymous debut. You can focus on each note, attentively ingesting the subtleties that are hidden in pockets of dulcet polyphony. You can also treat it as background music. Often times, I'll pop this puppy in before I write. Whatever the case, Exivious provides perfect ambiance for any occasion. This is beginning to sound like a press release. I promise that I'm not affiliated with this band; I'm just addicted to their music. If only they would churn out a follow-up! I can't recommend Exivious enough. I haven't even mentioned the articulate bass, the limber drumming or the warm production. Good luck finding an affordable copy. Limited availability is the sole flaw tainting this record. I could tell you where I got my disc, but I'm not exactly proud of having to resort to...well, y'know.

No, I didn't fuck one of the band members. Jesus. Hmm, I didn't exploit as many literary devices as I thought I would. I'm smiling like a baby in a strip club.

Vanity Scare #1

2012-01-30T21:58:00.004-05:00

What is Vanity Scare? Aside from being a ludicrous title (I couldn't come up with anything remotely clever), it's a new column where I'll be dissecting horror magazines. The main features will be monthly reviews of Rue Morgue, as I received a subscription for Christmas. But that's not all...every now and then, I'll be covering back issues of other rags (mainly Fangoria). It should provide a telling peek into how the genre has mutated over the years. Let's kick things off with an inquest of the new Rue!

RUE MORGUE (#119, February 2012)

Cover - This publication is known for their exquisite hand-drawn covers, so I'm always disappointed when I see a homely screenshot on the front of a new issue. A mainstream film hogging the spotlight is a red flag. To be fair, I haven't read Rue since the Jovanka days, and I get the impression that incumbent Editor-in-Chief Dave Alexander doesn't make a habit out of catering to the masses.

Cover Stories - I'll just comb through the stand-outs. The article promulgating the revamp of The Woman in Black does its job, but to be honest, I can't get psyched up for Hammer's latest confection. It seems like a typical ghost yarn, and I've had my fill of typical ghost yarns. I was much more engrossed by the Jean Rollin interview, which was conducted shortly before his death. Jeremy Richey's rundown of the five Rollin outings that are being re-released on DVD/Blu-ray made me want to educate myself in the field of nude lesbian bloodsuckers. Don't be surprised if reviews of Lips of Blood and The Shiver of the Vampire surface on this very website in the not-too-distant future. Lastly, the convention schedule is incomplete. I'm only nitpicking because they precluded a convention that I'm attending in March (details at a later date!).

Regular Features - I adored Bowen's Basement. Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II doesn't get enough love, and it's a relief knowing that I'm not alone in my dissatisfaction with the original. Sorry, folks...it's dull. And Jamie Lee Curtis is overrated. Yeah, I went there. The Travelogue of Terror is a must-read. I'm stopping in Hell on my next road trip. A wag of my finger to The Gore-Met (apologies to Stephen Colbert for blatantly ripping him off) for spoiling Macabre. It wouldn't be a hyperbole to say that he ruined the twist ending of the subversive Asian shocker. Not cool, dude. Thanks to Play Dead for bringing my attention to a zombie-ridden board game. The fact that there are two versions of "The Walking Dead" (one based on the comic, the other based on the TV show) is simply cock-blowing. I'm serious. My cock is blown.

In a Nutshell - This section of Vanity Scare will probably be the same for each 'zine. Why? Well, even the lousy issues of Rue Morgue are worth buying if you're a die-hard horror junkie. Back issues of Fangoria, on the other hand...we'll cross that bridge when we burn it. Or something.

Album Cover of the Week

2012-01-29T23:01:00.002-05:00

Parts Unknown #96: Smackdown

2012-01-28T22:24:00.002-05:00

I'm on the verge of giving up on the WWE. I can usually count on Smackdown, but last night's episode was unbearable. I'm at a loss for words. Well, almost.

PROS

~ The Cody Rhodes/Justin Gabriel match. I can't believe I'm saying this about a five-minute midcard non-title bout, but it was probably the best match of the night. Where are the contenders for the Intercontinental Championship? Has Cody defended the belt against anyone other than Booker T?

~ I repeat myself each week, but here again, I'm curious as to where Drew McIntyre's losing streak is heading. I'll die laughing if he ends up winning the Rumble.

~ I've had my eye on Yoshi Tatsu for awhile now, so I know how much potential he has. I loved his recent makeover. I thought for sure that he was on the cusp of a singles push. While I'm ecstatic to finally see him back on Smackdown (the last time he popped up on the blue brand, he jobbed to a debuting Jinder Mahal), I am positively aghast at the notion of coupling him with Santino. Still, this is more of a pro than a con. If they win the tag titles, so help me God.

CONS

~ A match between Randy Orton and Wade Barrett is advertised. Barrett cuts a promo, Orton attacks him, they tussle for a bit, they are separated by referees...? Did I miss something? It's bad enough that two matches clocked in at under twenty seconds. This is shit that Vince Russo would try to pull. And yet, the brevity of this encounter wasn't the worst part. The worst part was letting The Viper RKO five young, talented fresh faces and bury the tag team division in the process. By the way, The Uso's and Reks/Hawkins had a solid match on NXT this week, not that the WWE cares.

~ Hunico versus Ted DiBiase again??? Quit feeding us the same goddamn show every week. It's no wonder ratings are below sea level.

~ The fart joke. Oh my fucking Christ. If I were Natalya, I'd pack my bags and fly to Orlando. This is one of the best female wrestlers on the planet, and you saddle her with a flatulence gimmick before sending her out to the ring to lose a ten-second (!!!) "battle" with Aksana? There are rumors that both Beth and Natalya are in the doghouse, but sometimes, you need to put the product first. The Diva's division has never been this embarrassing. Ever.

~ I dig Brodus Clay, but he's ready to advance past the squash stage. It's getting tiresome.

Fuck. Something epic better happen on Sunday.

Lurking Fear

2012-01-27T22:21:00.006-05:00

Someone needs to put every edition of Full Moon's "Videozone" on a single DVD. How orgasmic would that be? Charles Band catches a lot of flack (granted, some of it is warranted), but the guy is responsible for hundreds of b-movies. When his pet project was backed by Paramount, a steep percentage of these b-movies were afforded spiffy budgets. 1994's Lurking Fear resides on the cheaper end of this headmost wave of Full Moon titles, but compared to later blunders like Ragdoll and Killjoy, it's a lavish Hollywood masterstroke. Based on a short story written by H.P. Lovecraft, this flick was originally going to be directed by Stuart Gordon. It didn't pan out, although Gordon took another crack at Lovecraft the following year (if you haven't seen Castle Freak, you're missing out).

As it turns out, there are three film adaptations of this disturbing tale. You've got 1989's Dark Heritage, 1997's Bleeders and of course, you've got Lurking Fear. I haven't seen Dark Heritage, but I'm one of the gullible saps who rented Bleeders back in the day because of its cover art. Horror fans are suckers. I won't spend much time comparing the two. I will say that I would have been lost during the bulk of Lurking Fear if I had never taken a chance on Bleeders. The latter is torpid, long-winded gruntwork, but at least it explained why albino mutants were killing innocent people and dragging them through underground tunnels. The former assumes that you have read the source material. HINT: I haven't read the source material.

Still, there are subplots that were easier to swallow. A rugged twentysomething is released from prison and learns that a lump sum of money is buried in his father's corpse. He retrieves the map, but retrieving the cash proves to be a galumphing chore. When he arrives at the cemetery with shovel in hand, he is greeted by casino thugs and monster hunters. Let's talk about the monster hunters. They are easily the best thing about Lurking Fear. Jeffrey Combs plays a drunken smartass, while Ashley Laurence (yes, that Ashley Laurence) plays a short-tempered badass. Incidentally, they are the only available actors qualified to recite dialogue in front of a camera. I'm not just roasting amateurs out of holier-than-thou vainglory. Everyone else is ordinary at best.

Writer/director C. Courtney Joyner gets the horror elements right. The atmosphere is moody (thunder, lighting, the whole nine yards), the creature effects are competent and the gore is moist. Sadly, the subterranean goblins aren't quite as threatening as they should be. We don't see them enough, and at one point, the lead ghoul has a conversation with a priest. Ghouls shouldn't have conversations, much less with men of the cloth. I have no choice but to endow Lurking Fear with the dreaded wishy-washy rating. I like to call it The Meh. Is Bleeders better, you ask? I can't say for sure, as it's also Meh-worthy. As for the subject of today's review, I've seen worse Full Moon films (much, much worse). It's suitable viewing for a rainy night.

Go Packers!

2012-01-26T21:44:00.002-05:00

I never write about sports, but since the Super Bowl is approaching, I thought I'd offer my analysis as a casual football fan. I don't care about the Giants, and I don't care about the Patriots.

Moving on! I'm thinking of debuting the new column on Monday. There is a chance that it might flop, but that's a chance I'm willing to take.

Blood Capsule #4

2012-01-25T22:08:00.003-05:00

COWBOYS AND ALIENS (2011)

People who know me have this misconception that I abhor any and all big-budget blockbusters. That's simply not true. I love rowdy, headlong popcorn movies when they are handled with care. Cowboys and Aliens was handled with care. I'm not even fond of westerns, but I dug this rustic take on "alien invasion" prosaicisms. The action is brisk, Harrison Ford plays a badass, the CGI is well-rendered (!) and plot twists give the script little shots of adrenaline at just the right places. A word of warning...if you insist on rifling through the storyline in search of lapses in logic, you'll find them. But it's a sci-fi flick. Relax.

I do have one bone to pick with director Jon Favreau. By extension, this applies to most of the alien-themed genre films that have been cranked out in the last twenty years, give or take. Can you knock if off with the plagiaristic creature designs? It was cute in the 80's, but how many variations of the titular monsters in Alien and Predator do we need? I realize that it's not Jon's fault. I'm addressing Hollywood as a whole. Super 8 was excellent, but could you draw a rough sketch of the intergalactic beastie that the less annoying Fanning sister crossed paths with? I doubt it. Hell, describe it to me. You can't!

Sorry, that was too much rambling for a Blood Capsule. I must learn to keep my venting in check.

Geek Out #42

2012-01-24T21:27:00.003-05:00

Linnea Quigley is my favorite scream queen. She's a consummate professional who truly loves the horror genre. Please enjoy this clip from Linnea Quigley's Horror Workout, a shameless video wherein Linnea exercises with her curvaceous friends. It's kind of awesome. Gotta love the Creepozoids poster in the background.

Matches That Time Forgot #28

2012-01-23T23:10:00.003-05:00

Have you ever wondered why Marty Jannetty never achieved the kind of success that Shawn Michaels did? Me neither. I think it's fairly obvious that Marty lacked HBK's raw charisma, but don't mistake my candor for an unjust burial. I dig Marty. Always have, always will. When it comes to in-ring mechanics, he was a dependable worker. Today's Match That Time Forgot proves that he could "dance" with any wrestler. It didn't matter if it was a technical craftsman (see his Raw bout against Doink) or a lumbering behemoth. He could adjust his style to accommodate giants and grapplers alike.

Watch as he keeps the crowd engaged during a protracted match opposite Mr. Hughes. To be fair, the burly Hughes deserves some of the credit for making this odd pairing work. He had his heel tactics down to a science. If your forehead is currently crinkled, allow me to refresh your memory. Mr. Hughes enjoyed a brief stint in the WWF, and if you blinked in 1993, you probably missed it. He wrestled for several companies (including WCW), but he was gainfully employed by Vince McMahon just long enough to pilfer The Undertaker's urn. In the mid-90's, that was the easiest way to kickstart a feud.

I'm not sure why Hughes left the Fed, but his humdrum gimmick couldn't have helped matters. He looked like a cross between Big Bully Busick and Irwin R. Schyster. He would steal your lunch money and invest it in mutual funds, I suppose.

Album Cover of the Week

2012-01-22T22:12:00.002-05:00

Parts Unknown #95: Smackdown

2012-01-22T21:20:00.003-05:00

It's Sin City Smackdown! In other words, it's...another episode of Smackdown!

PROS

~ Daniel Bryan as a full-fledged heel. His promos are better, and he actually seems to be getting a reaction out of the crowd. Of course, it's a taped show, so there is no way of knowing how much of his heat is genuine. Most of it could be canned. Either way, this heel turn was the best thing for D-Bry's character. Also, I dug the way that the lumberjack match devolved into an intemperate brouhaha.

~ Cody Rhodes and Justin Gabriel work well with each other. The Cape Town Werewolf (voted Nickname Least Likely to Trend on Twitter by...um, me) is finally over with the fans, unless his cheers are piped in with the duplicitous sincerity of a Goldberg chant.

~ The tornado tag match between E&P and The Uso's. We saw a few unique double-team maneuvers, and it's always nice to have real tag team wrestling on WWE television. Unfortunately, these four promising talents weren't given enough time to tell a story. Week in and week out, the tag matches are too short. It's bullshit, Vince. Bullshit.

~ The dance-off was funny, but let's hope it was the last one of 2012 (we all know it won't be).

~ Honestly, Wade Barrett bores me, but his scuffle with Sheamus was smooth. Solid action.

~ I'm only listing Drew McIntyre's loss as a pro because I have no idea what they're planning on doing with him next week. I have a reason to tune in.

~ The flag match between Hunico and Ted DiBiase. Again, I have no idea where this feud is heading, but kudos to Ted for prospering as a babyface.

CONS

~ Why does Hornswoggle still have a job?

~ Why does Aksana still have a job?

As you can surmise, I didn't have much to say about this episode of Smackdown. It continues to be superior to its Monday night counterpart. What else is new?

The Last Circus

2012-01-21T22:00:00.006-05:00

There are a bunch of well-renowned genre filmmakers floating around in the horrorverse. I can't get to all of them. It's unavoidable. I'm sure that you can relate. Hell, I have a friend who has never seen a David Cronenberg film. Scatological heresy, right? It's easy to bully a fellow nerd who has allowed the works of an accomplished auteur like Cronenberg to pass him/her by (believe me, my friend was scrupulously dragooned), but we're all guilty of omitting certain fan favorites. Me, I've never seen an Alex de la Iglesia film. After watching his latest project, 2010's The Last Circus, I'm adding the rest of his track record to my chopping list.

If his name doesn't ring a bell, Iglesia is responsible for Accion Mutante, The Day of the Beast and Perdita Durango (a.k.a. Dance with the Devil). The Last Circus may seem a bit schlocky, but I can assure you that there is more to it than a circus clown brandishing a machine gun. Obviously, that would make for an amazing motion picture (seriously, that movie should be greenlit pronto), but if you know anything about Iglesia, you know that his stuff appeals to the "art house" crowd. He is incredibly versatile. The Last Circus is a g(h)oulash linking blood-freezing horror, circumstantial comedy, hypnagogic surrealism, "love triangle" hysterics and ruinous tragedy together to form a balustrade of splashy sideshow dementia.

The plot is deceptively simple. A sad clown and a happy clown squabble over the affections of a beautiful aerialist. That doesn't begin to scratch the surface of the perky, industrious script. In terms of pacing, The Last Circus steps on the gas pedal and doesn't brake until the end credits roll. I won't give away specific detours that the story takes, but suffice to say, it's wholly unpredictable. I was transfixed. Why? I cared about the characters. Why? The cast is good. Really, really good. On a sidenote, how hot is Carolina Bang? Yeah, that's her real name. Her parents must have decided a long time ago that they wanted a porn star for a daughter (I know it's her last name, but c'mon, let me have one tasteless joke).

Iglesia was entrusted with a prodigious budget, and it shows. The cinematography is stunning. This is the best-looking film that I've viewed all year. The art direction is immaculate, the scenery is breathtaking and the CGI...well, I didn't care for the CGI. It's okay in small doses (subtle background tweaks, weather effects, etc.), but there is a ridiculous car crash in the third act that made me laugh out loud. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was lifted from Grand Theft Auto. Yikes. That's a trivial complaint, though. The fact is, you need to check out The Last Circus. Alex de la Iglesia is often compared to Guillermo del Toro, and it's not just because they're both Spanish. It's because they're both fat.

Uber

2012-01-20T21:03:00.002-05:00

It's been a busy day, but I'll be back tomorrow with an uber-cool movie review. Parts Unknown has been pushed to Sunday. If you can't wait that long, call 911 immediately.

I may post this on a semi-regular basis...

2012-01-19T21:10:00.000-05:00

No Smackdown review today. I did watch it, but for the most part, there wasn't much in the way of storyline progression. Besides, I wanted to talk about something else today. 2011 came and went like Sin Cara. I'm not sure where the year went, but I realized that it was the first year where RR Inc. was active for 365 consecutive days. I started this site in late 2009, and 2010 was curdled by a debilitating surgery. The word "setback" doesn't begin to describe it. For months, I was dormant. My physical issues sucked the spirit right out of me.

Eventually, I breathed life back into the site and shifted the focus of its content. To be perfectly honest with you, I don't know how I have managed to update this sliver of the net on a daily basis. Friends have helped along the way, but the main thing that keeps me going is the (delusional?) hope that there are people who enjoy frequenting my online pad and look forward to seeing what I'll churn out next. It's an ego trip.

Unfortunately, the written word is dead. How so? It's dead in the sense that I can't make a living writing reviews of random films, records, comic books and weekly wrestling shows. Ten years ago, this site would have been fairly popular. Nowadays, video reviews are all the rage. It blows my mind that The Nostalgia Critic and The Cinema Snob pay their bills by doing what I do. When you break it down, I'm not that different from those guys, but who wants to fucking read? I'm not in a position where I can produce a professional web series, so every once in awhile, I ask for donations in a non-threatening manner.

What I'm trying to say is GIVE ME MONEY OR I'LL RAPE YOUR PETS! That's all I'm saying. Can RR Inc. continue for another year without donations? Sure. That's not the point. The point is...um, there has to be a point around here somewhere. If you dig my site, please consider supporting it. It doesn't have to be a monetary donation. You can donate DVD's, comic books, whatever. Just drop me an e-mail, and I'll provide you with my address.

Do it for Dink's sake!

Panels From Beyond the Grave #14

2012-01-18T21:58:00.005-05:00

THE ZOMBIE: SIMON GARTH (1 of 4, November 2007)

I have peculiar tastes. By and large, run-of-the-mill "zombie apocalypse" parables don't interest me. I've only watched a couple of episodes of The Walking Dead, I'm ambivalent towards the Resident Evil series and while I dig Dawn of the Dead, I don't see it as an empyreal epic that casts a shadow over all other zombie flicks. It's a matter of preference, and it can be accredited to multiple mediums. That's why I shrugged my broad, sinewy shoulders when I happened upon a copy of The Zombie: Simon Garth stowed away in my comic book collection. Judging by the cover, this wasn't a title that was going to knock my semen-encrusted socks off.

Technically, my socks are still on my feet (at this point, the semen acts as a reproductive resin), but I enjoyed The Zombie more than I thought I would. This is the first issue of a four-part saga. It was distributed by MAX, a Marvel imprint intended for mature readers. I read it anyway. As I've said before, I don't claim to be an expert on comic books, so you'll have to pardon my ignorance on the subject. It seems that The Zombie is an upshot of Tales of the Zombie, a classic Marvel title from back in the day. The plot follows Simon, an undead ghoul who emerges from a helicopter crash relatively unscathed. We spend the bulk of this installment watching him saunter through a forest dispatching various rednecks.

Meanwhile, a scientist panics at the site of the crash because his "subject" is nowhere to be found. A blood sample is also unaccounted for, which is bad news for everyone involved. From what I gather, the blood is infected with the virus that turned Simon into a zombie. This comic offers a fresh take on a trite subgenre. I don't think that I could digest another shopworn tale of portentous limb-chewing in the same vein as 28 Days Later. Instead of focusing on a group of hackneyed characters trying to survive amidst a horde of mangy, withering automatons, The Zombie concerns itself with one cadaverous drone (not counting any people who are infected as the storyline progresses).

On the dank side of the tampon, the living participants are bland and paper-thin. They're essentially faceless. I realize that it's early on in the series, but you need to develop strong personalities from the get-go. Kyle Hotz's artwork is sleek and appropriately gloomy. I love the pale blues and the eye-popping gore. Overall, The Zombie: Simon Garth is a fun, easy read that skirts around the cliches that tend to deface zombie-centric cinema/literature. Is it just me or could Simon pass for a gaunt Swamp Thing? Like if Alec Holland had body image problems and succumbed to bulimia...hey, Teen Beat puts a lot of pressure on bog monsters to attain certain measurements. I should stop typing, shouldn't I?

Blood Capsule #3

2012-01-17T21:42:00.002-05:00

THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON (1990)

Let's play word association. Ready? Satan. What comes to mind? If you're like most people, you immediately thought of The Bermuda Triangle. Well, that's what I think of because I just watched The Dark Side of the Moon. The twin brothers who penned the screenplay must have rolled a lot of joints and listened to a lot of Pink Floyd records. Maybe they used this film as an excuse to flex their idioglossia (look it up). Whatever the case, this is a mediocre sci-fi romp about a marooned space shuttle suffused with saltwater and moustached manifestations of Satan. It's fucking bonkers.

The story arc turns into a sickly retelling of The Thing, complete with "body hopping" and the compulsory stand-off where each character takes a turn accusing the others of being the baddie. For a second, it seemed like this flick was onto something. The premise is outlandish enough to be entertaining, but first-time director D.J. Webster drops the ball. One of the more forgettable Vidmark releases.

Intestinal Crank

2012-01-16T22:07:00.003-05:00

Color me psyched. The new Cannibal Corpse album has a title, a tracklist and a cover. CC is one of my favorite bands on the planet, so you can bet your ass I'm going to review Torture when it comes out. I wasn't fond of Evisceration Plague. To me, it was a neutered version of Kill. There was no progression. Even the production was identical to that of Kill, although I can't place all of the blame on Erik Rutan. He knows his way around a studio. I can only hope that Torture has its own unique flavor. The leaked tune ("Demented Aggression") does sound promising.

PS-New column next week! Yes, another one.

Album Cover of the Week

2012-01-15T18:53:00.002-05:00

One of my favorite albums of all time.

Parts Unknown #94: Smackdown

2012-01-14T22:00:00.004-05:00

As per usual, Smackdown was better than Raw. It did have its fair share of fuck-ups, though.

PROS

~ It's obvious where Daniel Bryan's situation is heading, but I like it all the same. I'm hoping that this program will put A.J. Lee in position to cut in front of other Diva's in line to receive a push. She's just as talented as she is gorgeous. Of course, if you're a regular reader, you know that I have been one of her biggest advocates for awhile now. You would also know that I want to put my penis inside of her. Any orifice will do. I'm not picky.

~ Cody Rhodes. His promo was solid (he gets brownie points for name-dropping The Ultimate Warrior), and he wrangled a sprightly match out of Ezekiel Jackson.

~ Ordinarily, I would bemoan the fact that Drew McIntyre was on the losing end of a match, but I get the impression that there are good things in store for The Chosen One. I mean, this isn't some faceless jobber we're talking about. At least he isn't being wasted on NXT.

~ David Otunga's new finisher.

~ Since I no longer cover Raw, I didn't get a chance to chime in on Brodus Clay's controversial re-debut. Personally, I dig his new gimmick. The last thing that the WWE needs is another generic monster heel. Give me colorful characters. I miss the days of The Undertaker, Big Boss Man, "Macho Man" Randy Savage, The Honky Tonk Man, Demolition, Bret "The Hitman" Hart, Doink the Clown, etc...sure, Funkasaurus might just be an extra-large Flash Funk, but he's fun to watch.

CONS

~ Justin Gabriel shouldn't need outside interference to win a match, especially if it's coming from a goddamn dwarf. He's a babyface. This is Booking 101, folks.

~ Keep Santino out of the ring. Enough is enough.

~ The Diva's division is so puny, it's unbelievable. Hell, the champion hasn't been on television in weeks. Just retire the belt.

~ No tag team action?

Night, night.

Update

2012-01-13T20:06:00.002-05:00

Currently watching Smackdown. You can expect to see a new edition of Parts Unknown, a new Blood Capsule, a new Panels From Beyond the Grave, a new music review and much more over the next week. You can hardly contain yourself!

Blue Sunshine

2012-01-12T22:32:00.006-05:00

Thanks to a troupe of witlings stranded in outer space, Jeff Lieberman is best known for 1976's Squirm. It's an entertaining inefficacy, but it's not an accurate representation of Jeff's worth as a filmmaker. With 1981's Just Before Dawn, he offered up a grim, atmospheric slasher. He also directed Satan's Little Helper, which is one of my favorite fright flicks from the aughts (I hate that term). Last night, I spent quality time with his sophomore outing, 1978's Blue Sunshine, and I'm glad that I did. I could say that it leaves Squirm in the dust, but that wouldn't be saying much, now would it?

There is a warrant out for Jerry's arrest. Three of his friends were offed in bestial ways, and he is the prime suspect. Did he kill them??? No. No, he did not. But the murders happened right in front of him. The culprit is a balding lunatic who dropped acid in college. When you think about it, that could be anyone, but Jerry's detective work has narrowed down the field of potential litigants. Let me rephrase that; he has identified the guilty party and he knows that other people are on the brink of madness. The title refers to a recreational drug that certain hippies enjoyed ten years prior. It seems that this hallucinogen has delayed side effects, and I'm not referring to dry mouth or vaginal secretions.

In case you're slow on the uptake, Blue Sunshine is about lysergic acid diethylamide. Y'know, Lucy in the sky with diamonds? Purple haze? Electric Kool-Aid? Strawberry fields? Neon pussy? Okay, I made up "neon pussy." That should totally be a drug, though. Where was I? Oh, the film's first half serves as a mystery, and despite overanxious marketing (every synopsis you'll come across spoils the secret behind the killings), the exposition is engrossing. Zalman King gives an uneven performance as our main protagonist. Still, we're in his corner, and we want to see him get to the bottom of this mess.

Lieberman imbues Blue Sunshine with a pulpy drive-in vibe that I simply cannot resist. It never becomes a comedy, but it's easy to spot the scenes that were embellished for the purposes of selling this as a trashy b-movie. The climax is just too much. A discotheque is ravaged by a hulking acid zombie, and we follow Jerry as he hunts it through a solitary shopping mall. It's a riot, but the abrupt ending dampens the mood. I was hoping for a more explosive payoff. In any event, Blue Sunshine deserves your attention if you're looking to rent a cult classic that you haven't already seen a million times. Now, do you know where I can score some neon pussy?

Geek Out #41

2012-01-11T22:38:00.002-05:00

Last week's unofficial Geek Out involved Bill Lustig's best film (I realize that it's not a popular opinion, but as far as I'm concerned, Maniac Cop 2 is superior to Maniac). Let's look at his worst contribution to the horror genre. It's a guilty pleasure. Don't act like you didn't smirk once or twice during this patriotic slasher.

Skid Row - SKID ROW

2012-01-10T22:24:00.011-05:00

When I was little (I'm talking single digits), I listened to hair metal out of convenience. I watched MTV, and MTV played hair metal videos. Therefore, I dug hair metal. Like most people, I grew up, leaving my childhood obsessions behind. My modest collection of "cock rock" cassette tapes was consigned to be unloaded at yard sales. I can't say that I missed them. However, there is one band from that quondam era of spandex and hairspray that I still consider to be a cut above the rest. Say it with me...Firehouse! Just kidding. Skid Row may have been lobbed in the same dustbin as Poison and Winger, but in my accurate opinion, they had more in common with Guns 'n' Roses (especially on 1991's Slave to the Grind).

Granted, their eponymous debut is rather polished. You could get away with calling it a pop/rock affair, but hey, if I'm going to plug my ears with housebroken candy floss, this is what I want it to sound like. That's not to say that Skid Row is lacking in the balls department. At its core, this is sleazy, rebellious rock and roll. I know what you're thinking. "Sleazy rock songs about teen rebellion? FROM THE 80's???" While it's not exactly a novel concept, there is something to this album, something earnest. The lyrics feel genuine. When Sebastian Bach screams the story of Ricky in "18 & Life," you believe every word of it. Wouldn't it be cool if "18 & Life" actually dealt with Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky? Just a thought.

Speaking of Bach, he is one of the best rock/metal vocalists on the planet. Some of the notes he hits don't even exist. From a technical standpoint, his vocals on Slave to the Grind are more impressive, but I dare you to sing "I Remember You" without reaching for an oxygen tank. The heavier tracks are a mixed bag. "Can't Stand the Heartache" is perfunctory fluff. "Big Guns" and "Rattlesnake Shake" are high-octane strip club staples. "Piece of Me" is badass, and you know it. "Youth Gone Wild" is the anthem to end all anthems. If you ask me, it shits all over Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It."

My favorite song that wasn't chosen to be a single has got to be "Midnight/Tornado." The dueling guitar leads bring Iron Maiden to mind, and the melodies are catchier than Hepatitis C. Between you and me, I always skip "Here I Am." I'm not sure how it became a live fixture, but what do I know? Skid Row needs to be remastered. There are aspects of the production that work (I love how the solos pop out of the mix), but man, you have to blow your speakers to hear everything. Chalk it up to dated technology...wait, no. That's a cop out. I own older CD's that sound better than this. At any rate, Skid Row is worth buying, even if Skid Row (the band) didn't click on all cylinders until the 90's.

Matches That Time Forgot #27

2012-01-09T22:55:00.003-05:00

Sometimes, even I am taken aback by how random these matches are. Today's gladiator joust (NOTE: Joust was my favorite game on American Gladiators) sees "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan no-sell against Galaxy. We're in Nitro territory, which means that Duggan is a stiff clodpate who is way past his prime. I mean, this was 1997. The guy had nothing to offer. His entire WCW run consisted of squash matches where he buried young talent. I don't mean to suggest that Galaxy had a future, but why put Duggan in the ring with a cruiserweight to begin with? Oh, who is Galaxy?

Galaxy is Damian 666 under a mask. Who is Damian 666? He's a well-respected luchador who was brought in to fill out the cruiserweight division. He actually wrestled under both gimmicks simultaneously, but neither character picked up any meaningful wins. Damian 666 is still active, tagging with rudos in AAA. Duggan...is not.

Album Cover of the Week

2012-01-08T20:38:00.000-05:00

I might post this on a semi-regular basis...

2012-01-07T22:46:00.004-05:00

Knife in the Water

2012-01-06T22:21:00.009-05:00

Every once in awhile, I like to dip my hooves into divergent waters. In the early days of the site, this was a common practice. I tackled all genres before eventually designating Random Reviews Incorporated as a sci-fi/horror haunt. Still, there are instances where you might catch me maundering outside of my comfort zone. This is one of those instances, although Knife in the Water would certainly appeal to fans of the darker side of Hollywood. After all, it's a Roman Polanski film. To narrow it down a bit, this is Polanski's first feature-length production, and it was the only picture he shot in his native tongue.

I'll level with you. I fell asleep watching Knife, and I wasn't too thrilled about having to watch it twice. The plot is markedly simple. A leisure-class couple invites a peripatetic wayfarer (I could just say "hitchhiker," but that wouldn't be very pompous, now would it?) to join them on their sailboat for the afternoon. The husband is an asshole. And there you have it, folks...that covers the entire 94-minute running time. The pace is enervated, the soundtrack is devoid of music and there isn't much dialogue to speak of. Yeah, I was probably too pooped to pop Knife into my DVD player, but if anyone deserves the lion's share of the blame for my heavy eyelids, it's Roman Polanski.

This is a boring movie. There is no other way of saying it. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, happens for 50 minutes solid. Tension mounts in the third act, and the ending will give you something to ponder, but I was already sapped by that point. On a positive note, the cast is competent. You learn a great deal about the characters from observing how they interact with one another. And I'd be lying if I told you that Jolanta Umecka's wet, naked curves didn't enhance my viewing experience tenfold (well, maybe ninefold). Why didn't her career take off? I gather that she lacked acting experience, but good heavens...look at her!

You need to have an appreciation for minimalist filmmaking to groove on Knife in the Water. Clearly, I don't. I don't have a wellspring of patience for this kind of flick. I don't have an aquifer of tolerance for...okay, I'm getting carried away with fancy words. But you get the point. Truth be told, I've never been giddy over Polanski's work. I thought that Rosemary's Baby was an exasperating drag. You heard me. Repulsion was cool, and I did enjoy The Ninth Gate. Plus, his attempted rape of a minor was totally underrated. It made Victor Salva's kid-diddling look amateurish by comparison.

An unofficial Geek Out!

2012-01-05T23:28:00.002-05:00

I didn't have time to do the review today (I know, I know), so to make up for it, I'm bringing you this badass clip. As for the review, it's still in the cards. Be patient...I'm only one geek!

Zzzzzz...

2012-01-04T23:13:00.000-05:00

Fell asleep during movie. Review tomorrow.

Save Us

2012-01-03T21:58:00.003-05:00

RE: Chris Jericho's return...

- It was clever. It makes perfect sense for his heel persona to mock and manipulate the WWE fawning faithful.

- I'm okay with having to wait for answers. Even if the recondite hype videos were explained away last night, I would still tune in next week. But I'm not the typical wrestling fan.

- It was bad TV. In order for there to be another wrestling boom (which is a distinct possibility), the WWE needs to win over casual fans. Those are the people who boost ratings. Those are the people who switched back and forth from college football to Monday Night Raw to see what all of the fuss was about. And those people are confused right now. Unfortunately, most of them won't care enough to tune in next week. Why? Because Y2J's return didn't give them a reason to care. It didn't give them...anything.

- Look, you don't have to explain everything up front, but you do need to explain something. As soon as Jericho retreated to the backstage area to a chorus of jeers (alongside a few halfhearted cheers), every smark in the world nodded their head in approval. "Ah, I see what he's getting at." The casual fans? "What the fuck? That was dumb."

Geek Out #40

2012-01-02T23:35:00.000-05:00

Underrated flick.

Album Cover of the Week

2012-01-01T20:00:00.000-05:00

Parts Unknown #93: Smackdown

2011-12-31T22:04:00.027-05:00

Does this count as a go-home show? Regardless, it was average. We're starting to see fresh faces on Smackdown, and I, for one, couldn't be happier.

PROS

~ I loved the verbal exchange between Cody and Booker. They should have scheduled the match for a certain PPV (starts with "Roy" and ends with "al Rumble"), but this has been an engaging feud all the same. I'm somewhat of a Goldust mark, so I ejaculated on my orphan slave when his entrance music blared throughout the arena. Nice touch. For the record, my orphan slave was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was nothing personal.

~ The Ted DiBiase/Jinder Mahal match. It was well-paced, well-timed and I was pleasantly surprised by the outcome. He may be weighed down with a one-note gimmick, but I dig what Mahal brings to the table.

~ Tamina's superkick.

~ So they're finally doing something with Drew McIntyre. Losing to Big Zeke isn't an ideal way to charge out of the gate (especially for a lad who was once "preordained" to emerge as the cream of the crop), but hey, it's...something.

CONS

~ I don't mean to deprecate Hunico, but another Latin tag team? Really? What's the deal? And why are they trying to pass off Haku's son as a Mexican? Are they going to feud with Primo and Epico? If so, why are they heels? This doesn't add up. Look, you know me. You know that I'm game for new tag teams, but this is analogous to debuting The Smoking Gunns a mere month after debuting The New Blackjacks.

~ What are they doing with Daniel Bryan? Why is The Big Show feuding with David Otunga? Why is Mark Henry hellbent on evening the score with Mr. Wight instead of focusing on reclaiming the World Heavyweight Championship?

~ Keep Hornswoggle as far away from Sheamus as humanly possible. Their little skit was fatal. The Great White should be challenging for the belt right now, but who is he beginning to quarrel with? Heath fucking Slater.

~ No Uso's.

Well, Orton is on the sidelines. The future is bleak for Friday nights. Hopefully, The Undertaker will rise from the dead and give casual wrestling fans a reason to tune into Smackdown. A returning Y2J will help, but I imagine that he will be a mainstay on Raw. Where is The Missing Link when you need him?

Blood Capsule #2

2011-12-30T20:30:00.013-05:00

CRY-BABY (1990)

I wish that John Waters was my grandfather. How could any self-respecting exponent of off-kilter cinema turn their nose up at the man who bedizened the art of exploitation? In my opinion, Pink Flamingos is the best underground movie of all time. Even the peaches-and-cream escapades that were spitballed out of John's "mainstream" era are leagues above the Hollywood botches that pass as crowd pleasers in 2011 (oh, Happy New Year...or whatever). Cry-Baby was the last film he dished out that could be considered fun for the whole family. Rival gangs butt heads over a fair-haired chick-a-dee who can't decide whether she's a Drape (Depp's clique of leather-bound heathens) or a Square (the jejune and the righteous, her grandmother's ilk).

This is basically Grease, only less annoying. It's not terribly unique, but it gets by on presentation and personality. The characters are memorable, the pace is lively and the girls are sweltering. When Traci Lords appears on screen, I don't see or hear anything else. My God. Shortcomings? There are too many musical numbers, but bear in mind, I'm not big on musicals. I'm too hep.

Matches That Time Forgot #26

2011-12-29T22:58:00.008-05:00

I come bearing gifts. To be more specific, here is an entire episode of Monday Night Raw from 1993. Today's match that time forgot starts at the 10-minute mark (I couldn't find it in a clip by itself). Needless to say, all 45 minutes are worth sitting through, but I'm going to blab about the tag team contest between Tatanka/The Nasty Boys and Shawn Michaels/The Beverly Brothers. The actual tag teams on display were loitering at this point. Dallying and dawdling, if you will. The Nasty's left for WCW shortly after 'Mania, and The Beverly's...well, were they ever relevant?

The interesting story concerns the other two talents in action. As we all know, Shawn and Tatanka worked one of the better matches at Wrestlemania IX. On second thought, it was actually the highlight of the much-maligned PPV, but did you know that Tatanka was initially supposed to win the IC strap in Las Vegas? It would have made sense. He was still undefeated, and aside from Bret Hart, he was eliciting louder pops than the majority of his fellow babyfaces. For whatever reason, his career took a brusque nosedive heading into 1994. Perhaps a midcard title reign would have launched him into the main event. Who knows?

The Resurrected

2011-12-28T22:04:00.028-05:00

I don't read (I'm too fucking A.D.D. to lose myself in a book), but if I did, I would most certainly have the works of H.P. Lovecraft under my belt. His most vocal partisans cite 1992's The Resurrected as the best cinematic adaptation of one of his unearthly yarns. Ostensibly, this Dan O'Bannon feature is faithful to its source material, a novella entitled "The Case of Charles Dexter Ward." But I wouldn't know anything about that. I can only judge the film in question on its own merits. While From Beyond holds a special place in my purulent heart, I don't mind going on record as saying that The Resurrected is the sweetest piece of Lovecraftian ass that I have tapped to date.

Woah, I didn't mean to wander into Arrow territory. Sorry, Ike (it's an in-joke...let's move on). I hesitate to disclose too many plot specifics, but all you need to know is that a nonplussed woman enlists the help of a private investigator to find out what her husband has been up to. You see, he has been acting strange and conducting strange experiments in a makeshift laboratory. Strangely. I wouldn't be comfortable divulging any more information than that. At its core, The Resurrected is a mystery, and half of the fun hinges on the viewer being ignorant to the script's crowning twists. The storyline kept me on my toes. Impressive, seeing as how I can't even stand. Zing!

I wish that Dan O'Bannon had directed more movies during his laureate career. This genre treat (as well as his rookie endeavor, the almighty Return of the Living Dead) proves that he had a keen eye for striking visuals. Here, he plays with darkness in a clever way that would be aped countless times after the turn of the millennium (cue up The Descent, Pitch Black or any other horror flick involving the absence of light). We also get substance with our style. The acting is first-rate, the characters are believable and the acting is first-rate. Yes, I repeated myself. Chris Sarandon owns the fuck out of his role as Charles Dexter Ward.

Seriously. His tortuous, layered performance might be my favorite thing about The Resurrected. I never thought that the guy who portrayed the dapper vampire in Fright Night could pull off a prickly, misanthropic Herbert West type, but guess what? He does! His co-stars are just as talented. Ross's lesbian ex-wife from Friends is sympathetic as the heroine of sorts. I'm sure that she has a name. The pace is methodical, and truth be told, I enjoyed the patient exposition. However, the running time is ever so slightly distended. Lend me a pair of scissors, and I would evict 5-10 minutes worth of excess padding.

I forgot to mention the rad stop-motion effects. Cripes, The Resurrected rocks! If you haven't heard of it, I can't say that I blame you, but you should buy it pronto. End of.

pfft

2011-12-27T19:22:00.002-05:00

It's been a long, depressing day, but I'll post a movie review tomorrow. Fucking Christmas, man.

Goldberg knows when you are sleeping...

2011-12-26T19:47:00.003-05:00

This may come as a shock to some of my readers, but I never get movies for Christmas. The movies I want can only be bought online, and most of my immediate family members don't know how to operate a computer. The upside is that I get a lot of gift cards around the holidays. In fact, Santa gave me an eBay gift card this year, which I'll probably spend on movies. The coolest present I received was an Ultimate Warrior action figure (it's from WWE'S Defining Moments series). He is wearing his multi-hued entrance attire from Wrestlemania XII. Fucking SWEET!

What did you get me for X-Mas???

Album Cover of the Week

2011-12-25T18:00:00.000-05:00

Parts Unknown #92: Smackdown

2011-12-24T13:30:00.000-05:00

Unify the titles. Quick.

PROS

~ While I feel that it's too soon to give Daniel Bryan a major title, I'm not going to complain about it. However, this does expose the Smackdown roster as an inventory of "b" talents (the obvious exception being Randy Orton). The title picture is fucking weak. Either unify the top belts or send a couple of Raw guys over to the blue brand. Oh, right...this is a pro, isn't it? I dug the opening segment. It created enough tension to where you could buy a heel turn from Show or Bryan.

~ The Ryder/Rhodes match. They might as well milk Booker's last run as an in-ring competitor for all it's worth. Plus, it perpetuates Zack's hot streak without saddling the Intercontinental Champion with a clean loss.

~ Sheamus pinning The Miz's shoulders to the mat. I don't care for The Awesome One.

~ The match between Primo and Kofi Kingston was sick. These two gentleman (and the tag teams that they represent) have quietly been tearing down the house for two weeks straight.

~ The main event(s). I want to see Bryan and Ziggler work a 60-minute Iron Man match.

CONS

~ We needed to see The Uso's, and more importantly, The Uso's needed to be seen. A run-in would suffice. Maybe they save Air Boom from a post-match beatdown. Use your heads, creative team. You have got to push your best tag team to the next level. Those Samoan pups can only do so much with senseless booking.

~ Did they have to ruin the main event by turning it into a typical tag match? It could have been a Match of the Year candidate.

~ Aksana? Fuck off.

All in all, this was a strong episode of Smackdown. And that's all you need to know.

Panels From Beyond the Grave #13

2011-12-23T22:04:00.022-05:00

I realize that I haven't written a comic book review in awhile, but hopefully, I'll knock one out early next year. Until then, please enjoy another issue of Panels From Beyond the Grave sent in by part-time RR Inc. contributor Bob Ignizio (visit his movie blog HERE).

SWAMP THING (#4, February 2012)

I've been meaning to return to the horror titles in DC's New 52 since I covered Batwoman #1 a few months back, but got sidetracked. I'm getting back on this time around with one of my favorite titles to come out of the DC relaunch so far: Scott Snyder's Swamp Thing. In an odd editorial decision (considering that the New 52 was supposed to make jumping into the DC comics universe easy for new readers), the company decided to bring Swampy back into the fold a few months before the New 52 launched.

To make matters worse, they did it in a really cheesy and convoluted way, first having the character act as a deus ex machina in the conclusion of their "Brightest Day" maxi-series, and then following it up with the amazingly bland "Search for Swamp Thing" mini-series. Frankly, it didn't bode well for the character. But leave it to Scott Snyder, one of the best writers currently working in the biz, to take those lemons and make exceptionally tasty lemonade.

The main thing readers need to know about the new Swamp Thing is that, for now at least, he's a flesh-and-blood human being. Specifically, he's Alec Holland, a botanist who - in the original series - died in a lab explosion only to have his memories and personality serve as a template for a big, shambling Earth elemental. Now that Holland is back among the living, he finds that he possesses the memories of the previous Swamp Thing. It's a twist that turns Alan Moore's classic run on the series upside down.

Instead of a walking vegetable that remembers being a man, we have a man who remembers being a walking vegetable. Despite these unwanted memories, Holland is just trying to lead a normal life. However, The Green, the elemental force that created the previous Swamp Thing as well as others throughout history, wants Holland to become its new champion. Apparently, he was meant to do so originally, but since he died, The Green was forced to replicate him the best they could, resulting in the Swamp Thing whose adventures fans followed in DC/Vertigo comics for many years.

As the fourth issue begins, Alec Holland has met up with the previous Swamp Thing's girlfriend, Abigail Arcane. Both Abby and her younger brother, William, are tied to another elemental force known as The Rot, which seeks to bring death to the world. Abby is fighting her destiny, but William has embraced his. Just as Earth elementals like Swamp Thing have the ability to control plant life, servants of The Rot have the power to control dead matter. And not just completely dead either. Even something as minor as a bit of dead skin or a dead tooth can be manipulated in living beings. We see this illustrated in spectacularly gruesome fashion in the first few pages of this issue. As with the best past issues of Swamp Thing, the horror here is genuinely creepy and chilling on a visceral, yet intellectual level.

Swamp Thing #4 then spends a good bit of time on exposition, explaining the ages-old battle between The Rot, The Green and another elemental force representing animal life called The Red (The Red factors heavily in fellow DC title Animal Man). This kind of stuff can easily bring a story to a screeching halt, but Snyder is too good a writer to let it get boring. It also helps that artist Marco Rudy, filling in for regular penciler Yanick Paquette, does a great job with the visuals.

Even though there is an awful lot of verbiage here, the art has a power and sense of movement to it. Surprisingly, given the degree to which continuity is important on this series, I think a new reader could start here and have a pretty good idea of what was going on. Snyder does a good job inserting the most pertinent past details into the present story in a natural way that gets readers up to speed while still smoothly moving forward.

I know that some long-time fans of Swamp Thing (of which I am one) were concerned at seeing the character returned to the mainstream DC universe, complete with superheroes and all. Well, those folks can rest easy. This is a full-on horror book, and although it may not carry a “mature readers” label, this is every bit as edgy and sophisticated as Moore's work. And remember, Moore had The Spectre, Deadman, The Phantom Stranger and The Demon guest-star several times during his tenure on Swamp Thing, and even had a notable guest appearance by Superman in one issue.

Swamp Thing is also one of the few titles in the New 52 that has kept all of its previous history, so you don't have to worry about your favorite stories from the past not mattering any more. At the same time, the character is starting off fresh in many ways, and knowledge of previous stories is in no way essential to enjoy what's going on now. I wish something could be done to change the cheesy explanation for Alec Holland's resurrection, but aside from that one annoying detail, this is a first-rate horror comic.

Goblin

2011-12-22T22:13:00.035-05:00

It's been awhile since I reviewed a shot-on-video horror film. I can't imagine why. For better or worse, I am rectifying my tactless neglect as it relates to handheld b-movies. When it comes to this underground estuary of cinematic mildew, there is no middle ground. Titles can range from the totally tubular (Video Violence, Cannibal Campout) to the radically rancid (Shatter Dead, Five Dead on the Crimson Canvas). While I don't intend on sticking with surfer slang, I will say that 1993's Goblin is a bummer, man. I wanted the movie on the front of the box. Instead, I had to settle for the movie inside of the box.

Ever heard of Todd Sheets? Apparently, he is the king of shot-on-video splatter flicks. Goblin is just one of twenty-eight feature-length SOV (yeah, I'm abbreviating now) cheapies that he has sired. I like to think of him as the third Polonia brother. His passion for the genre could be sluiced through every pore of this no-budget grandstand. Miners use sluicegates to wash ore. You see, a sluice is an inclined trough with riffles on the bottom to trap heavy particles. What does that have to do with the price of tea in China, you ask? Don't change the subject. Anyway, Goblin was a labor of love, and it certainly has its heart in the right place.

That's the only positive thing that I can bring myself to type about it. Sheets proves that you don't need money to craft an engaging motion picture; you need all of the other stuff that he lacks. A sense of pacing, believable dialogue, a coherent plot, well-rounded characters, a basic understanding of editing (what it is, how it works, etc.)...when you buy Goblin, they don't tell you that these vital habiliments are sold separately. I haven't bothered with a synopsis yet because there isn't much of a story to impart. A couple moves into a house. A monster kills their friends. The couple seeks help from their new nextdoor neighbor. The neighbor - without flinching - explains, "Yeah, it's a goblin."

Literally! That's what happens! The mentally handicapped script wouldn't be an issue if Goblin was the least bit entertaining. Apart from a couple of amusing death sequences (the kills are shot in the style of Violent Shit...yippee?), I found the final product to be gut-fuckingly boring. The film comes to a screeching halt at the halfway mark to follow a soon-to-be corpse that we haven't had the (dis)pleasure of meeting as he walks around in the dark for ten minutes. Good grief. To add insult to injury, the "creature" effects are risible at best. Look, it's obvious that the cast and crew had a blast on the set of this mishap, so I'm being somewhat generous with my rating.

PS-It would be two full Z'Dar's if the trashy blonde took her top off.

Geek Out #39

2011-12-21T21:51:00.002-05:00

I found a lengthy Lucio Fulci interview on YouTube (subtitled!). Consider it an early X-Mas present. To see the rest, simply search for it. You lazy prick, you.

Bush - GOLDEN STATE

2011-12-20T22:17:00.033-05:00

In 2011, half of Bush reunited and released a mediocre album. I think it was called Gwen, Honey, Why Should I Record a Soulless Solo Album When I Can Cash in and Record a Soulless Bush Album? or something like that. I'm putting my metalhead credentials on the line here, but up until their azoic, disreputable "comeback," I dug Bush. Then again, I listen to a lot of the post-grunge bands that critics sneered at following the untimely passing of Kurt Cobain. Say what you want about Gavin Rossdale, but he knows how to write a tuneful rock song. Admit it; "Everything Zen," "Little Things" and "Greedy Fly" are memorable jams. Admit it, I say!

I could have reviewed Sixteen Stone, Bush's squillion-selling debut that propelled some of the most overplayed radio hits of the 90's (if I hear "Machinehead" one more time, I swear to God), and I very nearly did. However, I thought it would be more interesting to survey 2002's Golden State. Sonically, it's a meat-and-potatoes hard rock album that strips away much of the mechanized experimentation of 1999's The Science of Things. Gone are the cold industrial flourishes of ditties such as "The Chemicals Between Us" and "Letting the Cables Sleep." This is no-frills grunge. Yes, grunge. It would have been huge in 1995.

Of course, it slipped under the radar, and I can't understand why. Was it the marketing? Rap metal was already dying a humiliating death, so I can't point the finger at Limp Bizkit or Crazy Town. Hell, Bush was still popular when "Nookie" was in heavy rotation on MTV. So what gives? I'll leave infecund scrutiny to the scholars. I'd rather talk about the individual tracks on Golden State. "Solutions" and "Headful of Ghosts" are slow-burners, yet they constitute the opening ceremonies. They didn't infect me at first, but now, they are permanently etched into my brain. Talk about deceiving melodies. You'll be humming these choruses for days.

"The People That We Love" is an instant classic. Seriously, it's just as good as "Everything Zen," which is why it was chosen to be the first single. "Superman" and "Hurricane" are catchy mid-tempo numbers that occupy the midsection of Golden State. We don't hear a ballad until "Inflatable," and holy smegma, it's gorgeous. Maybe I'm a pussy, but if I imbibed enough vodka, I could put this fucker on repeat and cry myself to sleep. Other highlights include the frantic "Reasons," the expressive "Out of This World" and the groove-centric "Float." We even get a fuming, meteoric punk song in the form of "My Engine is With You."

On the dark side of the moon, Gavin's vocal patterns/intonations begin to blend together towards the end of the record. His bag of tricks is only so spacious. And I still haven't warmed up to "Fugitive" or "Land of the Living." There is nothing innovative here, and if you don't care for Bush, you won't care for Golden State. This isn't the kind of band that will win over a naysayer with warped time signatures or meticulous guitar solos. But hey, I have fun revisiting their first four efforts. This one, in particular, failed to catch on with the mainstream, but at least it sounds like Bush. That's more than I can say for The Sea of Memories. Blech.

Matches That Time Forgot #25

2011-12-19T22:49:00.004-05:00

Time hasn't forgotten many matches involving the four men that I'm spotlighting today. I bet you didn't know that they all wrestled each other, though. Here we have a tag team match from the territory days. It's Jerry Lawler/"Macho Man" Randy Savage versus Rick Rude/King Kong Bundy. I know, right? This match took place in 1984 before any of these gentlemen entered a WWF ring. Top reasons to watch...

- The pre-match promo. Savage randomly walks in front of the camera and heaves a cloud of confetti into the air. Why? Because he's fucking awesome.

- Bundy was an underrated worker. As far as monster heels are concerned, he was more technically sound than most.

~ Double axe-handle galore. This match proves that Savage was a self-made superstar. He already had the look, the catchphrases and the move set by the time Vince found him.

~ Lawler's piledriver.

Oh, and Rick Rude isn't so bad either.

Album Cover of the Week

2011-12-18T19:27:00.002-05:00

Shut up. It's a cool cover.

Parts Unknown #91: Smackdown

2011-12-17T22:19:00.019-05:00

Parts Unknown is back and in full effect! For the time being (READ: until Raw stops sucking), this column will exclusively focus on Smackdown. It's nice to see you again, blue brand. I haven't figured out why your writing team is more sensible than the blundering rubes behind Raw, but why ask why?

PROS

~ Booker T can still cut a promo. I love how they are building up to this match. While the outcome may seem like a foregone conclusion, this feud has been an effective one. Don't be surprised if Cody and Booker steal the show tomorrow night.

~ The Rhodes/Bryan match. The finishing counter was sweet. However, The American Dragon needs to move on and spar with someone that he can dominate.

~ Primo and Epico have new ring gear! I can't believe it; there are three legitimate tag teams in the WWE. You've got the right idea, Vince/Hunter. Keep at it. The match itself (against my Uso's) was solid. I understand why P&E picked up the victory (Air Boom needs to drop the titles to a pair of heels), but I hope that Fatu's offspring gain momentum heading into 2012. With the right booking, they could be over in a major way. I say, give them a lovable manager...perhaps their father?

~ To be blunt, I'm not interested in the Big Show/Mark Henry rivalry, but I'll give credit where credit is due. Show managed to work smoothly with Jack Swagger. But I'm not interested in Swagger either.

~ I'll admit it. Ted DiBiase is decent as a babyface. Jinder Mahal's interference was weird, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. At least they didn't axe him after Khali decided to go home.

~ The main event. Yep.

CONS

~ Another Diva's match, another roll-up win. What the fuckety-fuck? I'm starting to dig Alicia Fox. She's athletic enough, but what's the story here? What are they doing? You can't base a division on 2-minute matches, and Fox will never amount to anything with the shit they're feeding her ("You're synthetic and pathetic."). And why do they insist on burying Natalya? Inexcusable, every bit of it.

See you next Saturday! Well, I'll see you before Saturday because I update the site on a daily basis, but you know what I mean.

Monster X Strikes Back

2011-12-16T22:44:00.026-05:00

This movie is almost as random as this site. By default, I have to like it. It's just...I don't even...maybe I should fill you in on the oddity that is Monster X Strikes Back: Attack the G8 Summit. Remember 1967's The X From Outer Space, a kaiju reel about a Martian spore that mutated into a giant chicken lizard? Probably not. It was released in America by AIP (yes, the same company that financed all of those Corman-flavored Poe adaptations), but it has since decamped into the folds of time. I rented it years ago, and I had fun with it. I thought that the monster was cool enough to deserve another stab at cinematic immortality. Apparently, I wasn't alone.

Meet 2008's Monster X Strikes Back. It's not a remake. It's not an official sequel, although it's beginning to be accepted as canon. So what the hell is it? I don't know. Technically, it's a parody that borrows its baddie from another film. This has happened before. 1981's Scared to Death and 1990's Syngenor share the same creature, but apart from cosmetic similitude, the two productions have nothing in common. Now, I won't say that this low-budget raillery improves upon its "source material" because I'm dealing with apples and oranges. The X From Outer Space was a formal, stone-faced sci-fi undertaking; Monster X Strikes Back is a self-aware spoof. They're both entertaining for different reasons.

When leaders from around the world are summoned to discuss political issues at the G8 Summit, an enormous alien invades Japan. Of course, Japan just happened to be the host country for that year's Summit. The high-ranking dignitaries take turns plotting the annihilation of their uninvited guest, but they fail in humorous, yet catastrophic ways (the script actually puts a fresh spin on how we perceive the death toll in a genre film of this nature). Like most comedies, some of the jokes bomb, but I did laugh quite a few times. The humor tickles you with stupidity and cartoonish stereotypes.

You can tell that Monster X Strikes Back was born out of a love for classic kaiju tropes. It may be a parody, but it never struck me as a condescending jab at horror nerds. Having said that, it's far from perfect. The second act loses sight of the main objective. It becomes too sappy, and the pace keels over to pad the running time. While the special effects are cheap in a charming way, I wasn't crazy about Take-Majin's suit. I wasn't crazy about the design either. Try to imagine a golden statue with the visage of George Lopez. Yuck. Lopez be damned, I'm recommending Monster X Strikes Back: Attack the G8 Summit. I'm also recommending The X From Outer Space. Make it a double feature.

Thanks a lot, flu shot!

2011-12-15T19:54:00.005-05:00

I'm battling a mild case of "head and throat full of crap" disease, but I shall return tomorrow with a movie review. The weekend has a Smackdown review in store for you. I'll be posting a music review on either Sunday or Monday. And then, um, I don't know yet.

Feel free to donate to the site. In the meantime, I'm going to heal myself with prayer and chicken soup (pictured above).

The Red and Black Attack

2011-12-14T22:12:00.026-05:00

I whine a lot on this site, especially when it comes to the WWE. If you've read any of my recent wrestling columns, you know that I'm disgusted with the current state of the product. It's not just nostalgia either. The writing/booking was simply more effective when I was a teenager. It makes sense that the most promising angle on Raw involves an "old school" character. Everything about the new and improved Kane screams mid-90's WWF. The hokey ring attire, the overkill approach to the mask ("Oh, shit! It's Predator! Tell Cena to get to the nearest choppa!"), the evocative entrance music...IT'S FUCKING KILLER. And it's precisely what the WWE needs right now.

I watched wrestling as a wee one, but it wasn't until the Attitude Era kicked in that I became a WWF junkie. WCW didn't register for me. Hell, it didn't even exist in my little world. Like most sprouting horror freaks, I gravitated towards the dark side of the roster. In other words, I was an Undertaker mark. Okay, I'm still an Undertaker mark, but strangely enough, The Phenom wasn't my favorite wrestler in High School. No, I was a full-blown Kanenite. Why? Bear in mind, I was naive and credulous. I didn't want to believe that wrestling was scripted, and for years, I bought into Kane's outlandish backstory. That may be hard for younger fans to swallow, but hey, kayfabe wasn't a lost cause in those days. Plus, I was 13, so lay off.

I saw Kane as a tragic figure, a sympathetic monster comparable to Frankenstein's creation and King Kong. In early 1998, he was an unstable wreck after being forsaken by Paul Bearer. He had no one to turn to, so he fell for the first person who showed him affection. Remember Tori? That bitch. How could she take advantage of him like that? Don't get me started on X-Pac. You can see how an impressionable 13-year-old would get wrapped up in the soapy storylines. Of course, I eventually grew up. Once I realized that Raw was a predetermined, well-rehearsed show, my relationship with professional wrestling soured.

Looking back, it's frustrating to see that Kane was never given a fair shake. His first title reign lasted all of twenty-four hours. His older brother dominated every feud, which makes you wonder why they bothered building Kane up to be a dauntless, fire-eating demon in the first place. Was the character merely concocted to make 'Taker look better? If so, did Glen Jacobs ever have a shot at headlining PPV's? Last year, he was handed a lengthy title reign, but it almost came across as a proverbial pity fuck. Some fans insist that Jacobs hasn't done anything to deserve a push. They say he can't work, he can't talk, he can't move...I dub thee bullshit!

In my opinion, Jacobs is one of the most underrated talents in the business. He can still go, and for a man his age/size, he's in great shape. I honestly don't know what his detractors are seeing. Promo skills? Shit, The Big Red Machine can emote circles around 75% of the banal amateurs that populate the midcard. But those are just my two cents. I'll end this editorial by avowing that Kane should end The Undertaker's streak at Wrestlemania 28. Deep down, you know I'm right.

And the Slammy for "Worst Opening Segment" goes to...

2011-12-13T16:25:00.004-05:00

So I stop watching Raw after two hours of UNBELIEVABLY SHITTY SHIT, and I miss Kane's return? Are you kidding??? Fuck you, WWE! Yeah, I've seen the video online, but it's not the same as catching it live. Motherfuck.

Clearly, I'm not reviewing Raw today. I'm considering jumping back to Smackdown and swearing off the red brand for the foreseeable future. Speaking of red things, I will be posting my Kane retrospective tomorrow. That's also where you will find my thoughts on last night's epic return.

Geek Out #38

2011-12-12T19:45:00.003-05:00

If anyone knows where I can find the original Japanese cut of Half Human, let me know. This trailer advertises the butchered American version. I'm dying to see the film as it was intended to be seen. For those wondering, this was the project that Ishiro Honda tackled after helming Gojira.

Girly

2011-12-11T20:50:00.033-05:00

I'm a fan of Freddie Francis. He directed a number of Amicus anthologies, the most notable being Tales From the Crypt (incidentally, Torture Garden and Dr. Terror's House of Horrors are also worth scoping out). He knew how to craft a toothsome genre treat, and I think that's why I was disappointed in Girly. I was slabbering for sweet horror candy, but Francis snuck an apple into my trick-or-treat bag when I wasn't looking, worm in tow. Allow me to explain my mincing, self-aggrandizing analogy. Girly isn't much of a horror flick. It's barely exploitative, which wouldn't have been a problem if I wasn't all psyched up for an abject bloodbath. I mean, look at the DVD cover!

I was hoping to get down and dirty with a grindhouse-style b-cheapie, but in short, Girly is a suggestive black comedy. The story deals with an affluent British family comprised of a dainty matriarch (Mumsy), her chambermaid (Nanny), her voyeuristic son (Sonny) and her amorous tart of a daughter (Girly). They like to think of themselves as a perfect family. The only thing missing is a father figure. The quick fix? Every once in awhile, Mumsy sends her dear children out to fetch vagrants and stewed gutterpups to fill in as the reluctant "man of the house." If the victim refuses to be a plaything or tries to escape, the family partakes in a rousing game that usually ends in a fatality.

We only see the (20-year-old) kids abduct two hapless men. The pace is stubborn. Almost nothing happens for prolonged stretches of time. I dig black comedies, but this one isn't particularly funny. We're supposed to laugh at how demented the characters are, but that's just a single gag. And it only goes so far. Despite vapid dialogue, Vanessa Howard is divine as the titular strumpet. She has "jailbait" written all over her. The rest of the cast is adroit, even if they aren't as yummy as Howard. Y'know, taken out of context, that sentence is troubling. I could be talking about anyone. Howard Stern, Howard Finkel, Howard the Duck...well, I concede that Howard the Duck is pretty fucking yummy.

Francis shoots the script with a firm hand. The scenery is comely, the cinematography is crisp and he manages to drum up suspense in the absence of hawkish violence (Girly is surprisingly intimidating when she is brandishing a pool cue). Still, this flick failed to dazzle me on a gut level. The plot holes didn't help matters. The main hostage (credited as New Friend) doesn't try too hard to flee his captors, and from where I'm sitting, he never seemed terribly disturbed by his surroundings. Does he realize that he was snatched up by sociopaths? Girly makes for an okay rental on a slow weekend, but if you want to get acquainted with the works of Freddie Francis, I would start somewhere else.

Album Cover of the Week

2011-12-10T23:53:00.002-05:00

Matches That Time Forgot #24

2011-12-09T18:26:00.004-05:00

2007 was the last decent year for WWE's tag team division. I have the proof. This match involves Londrick (the most underrated tag team in the past decade) and The World's Greatest Tag Team. But it's a 6-man contest. Joining the babyfaces is none other than...Cody Rhodes? The hell? He looks more out of place than a vagina in a Goldust sex tape. Joining the heels is none other than...Daivari? Was this match booked with a dartboard? Probably, but it serves its purpose. It should have kickstarted an epic feud between Londrick and WGTT, but both teams were unceremoniously torn asunder in 2008.

Because no one cares about tag teams, right? Right???

Blood Capsule #1

2011-12-08T22:24:00.015-05:00

New feature alert! I don't review every film that I see. There are various reasons for that. For one, it may be something that I've written about before (I had amassed a wealth of horror movie reviews before I put this site together). Or maybe I don't have anything interesting to say. In some cases, I'll refrain from reviewing a certain flick because I have too many irons in the fire. So what is a blood capsule, you may ask? It's a mini-review of a motion picture that, for whatever reason, I won't be devoting four paragraphs to. You can expect a new capsule every 8-12 days. Giddyup!

HORROR EXPRESS (1972)

This Lee/Cushing collaboration just made its debut on Blu-ray. The film is just as wonky and diverting as I remember. Surprisingly, the image quality leaves much to be desired. There is an abundance of print scratches, and the colors are preposterously bright. At one point, I was bedeviled by a sustained close-up of the sun until I realized it was Terry Savalas's scalp. Don't upgrade your DVD collections just yet, fellow cinephiles. Of course, the movie is what matters, and Horror Express is one of the best Hammer productions that Hammer had nothing to do with.

An alien caveman (astro-erectus?) pesters a train full of important people. We get eidetic eye fluid, random zombies, hints of espionage, witty dialogue (Cushing is rewarded with the funniest lines), gnarly creature make-up, brazen gore, stunning exterior shots and a Satanic priest. Don't miss it.

Pal Plug

2011-12-07T15:58:00.003-05:00

Friend of the site Todd Crawford just created an Artist page on Facebook, and he wants you to "like" it. Todd is a published author who is wise beyond his years. If you're into trippy sci-fi fiction, you might dig his work. He actually reminds me of myself when I was a teenager, so I don't mind promoting his latest endeavors. Plus, he knows his way around anal beads.

Click HERE!

PS-New column. Tomorrow.

"Your brother is coming!"

2011-12-06T22:57:00.003-05:00

For those wondering why I haven't mentioned the abstruse Kane vignettes in my wrestling columns, it's because I have something up my sleeve. I've been a Kane mark since I was a teenager, and his upcoming "resurrection" gives me a good reason to write an editorial about The Big Red Machine. I'll explain why I love the character and why I feel that Glen Jacobs is one of the most underrated workers in the business. I'm going to wait until Kane makes his triumphant return before I post this piece. And yes, if he returns with the mask (or any mask), my wheelchair will explode.

Parts Unknown #90: Raw

2011-12-06T22:09:00.016-05:00

No. No, no, no, no. No!

PROS

~ The Miz and Randy Orton have worked together before, so their match was going to run smoothly. That's a given. I'm not crazy about making your top babyface look like a moron, though. "Damn, a count-out? How did that happen???"

~ The idea of pitting John Cena against Zack Ryder. The idea, not the execution.

~ Ziggler and Sheamus are aces. What else is new?

CONS

~ Oh my fuck. Somehow, "creative" has managed to center Zack Ryder's push around John Cena. I'm absolutely sick of Cena's good guy act. If he was actually selfless, he would have done the clean job. Winning a match for Zack Ryder is not tantamount to putting Zack Ryder over. If anything, it made Zack look weak. Do they think that this will curb the booing? Cena haters will never stop booing the guy, and this is a prime example of why. Awful booking.

~ Gee, another Daniel Bryan loss. What was the point?

~ Kelly Kelly's roll-up victory. It's almost as if the WWE has thrown in the towel as it relates to the Diva's division. For cum's sake, Pin-Up Strong's video package was interrupted by Jericho's vignette (let's not kid ourselves; we all know it's Y2J), and the commentators didn't even acknowledge it.

~ And here I thought that Kevin Nash would be working a match. Predictable. It's pretty sad that Diesel hasn't added a single move to his repertoire since 1995.

~ Punk still rules, but he couldn't save the bland contract signing.

In conclusion, no.

Panels From Beyond the Grave #12

2011-12-05T20:15:00.017-05:00

I bring to you another comic review courtesy of part-time Random Reviews Incorporated contributor Bob Ignizio (click HERE to visit his blog). Fair warning...this review will make you spend money. After reading Bob's gushing praise of this issue of The Goon, I am bound and determined to find a copy. You can't argue with five Savage's!

THE GOON (#36, November 2011)

Everything I knew about The Goon made it sound like my kind of comic book. I even picked up a reprint of the first issue for a dollar, and yup, it was my kind of comic book. And yet for some reason, I didn't immediately start buying up subsequent issues or even add the title to my pull list. I finally checked in with the series again with the most recent issue, number 36, and from now on, I'm mending my ways and signing up for regular installments of writer/artist Eric Powell's potent blend of classic comic strip art, pulp action heroics, monsters, zombies and sexy sirens.

The best thing about this particular issue of The Goon is that it requires absolutely no prior knowledge to enjoy, nor does it require that the reader continue buying the book – the story is over and done in a fully satisfying 22 pages (plus a bonus pin-up and text piece). Powell's writing is a perfect blend of gripping action and clever humor, and his art is pure classic comics goodness, looking like a cross between Al Capp and Will Eisner.

As for the title character himself, there's not much in the way of complicated back story you need to worry about. He's pretty much what his name suggests, a big tough guy who would probably be some super villain's henchman in another book; here, he's the hero, or at least anti-hero.

The plot concerns real-life burlesque performer Roxi DLite and her manager crash-landing their airplane in The Goon's dilapidated stomping grounds while on the run from (also real-life burlesque performers) The Pontani Sisters. While Roxi is plotting ways to make a fast buck and get out of this one-horse town, The Goon and his faithful sidekick, Franky, are busy separating the world's most valuable knick-knack from its rightful owner.

The two parties come together when The Goon goes to fence the trinket at the nightclub where Roxi is performing her striptease act. As soon as she realizes what The Goon has in his possession, Roxi figures it's her ticket out and sets about trying to get her paws on the knick-knack. Along the way, there's a lesbian human/harpy threesome, old rich people getting blown up and a giant talking spider. There's also plenty of risque banter and naughty striptease, though it's all handled in a way that's fun and sexy without being sleazy and exploitative. Think classic “pin-up” art a la Vargas and Livgren as well as 50's striptease artists like Betty Page and Tempest Storm.

There's nothing deep going on here, just good old-fashioned fun. In fact, The Goon is so old-fashioned, that the curse words are bleeped out, and any time actual nudity might show up on a page, it's covered up with a black rectangle. Which is exactly how it should be, given the book's retro vibe. Besides, I've always felt there was more of a sense of the forbidden to the tamer exploitation fare of the past than today's “anything goes” approach to sex in the media. Bottom line is, for me, this is a full 5-out-of-5 Savage's.

Album Cover of the Week

2011-12-04T19:59:00.001-05:00

Fantomas - THE DIRECTOR'S CUT LIVE

2011-12-03T21:47:00.026-05:00

Fantomas is awesome. Period. 2001's The Director's Cut is one of my favorite albums of all time. I won't talk at length about the album itself, but for those of you who aren't familiar with it (I call you people "the unenlightened" behind your backs), it's a caboodle of movie themes that have been warped and remodeled by avant-garde rock terrorists Fantomas. Most of the selections are winnowed from genre films. The main themes from The Omen, Spider Baby, Rosemary's Baby and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer are up for breakfast, as it were. A couple of non-horror cuts made their way onto the tracklist as well (the strains of Charade and The Godfather being choice examples).

Musically, the songs touch on speed metal, jazz, sludge, disco, experimental noise and everything in between. This DVD captures a special live performance from late 2008. The band plays The Director's Cut in full plus two unreleased covers. While it has become a cliche for illustrious cult acts to perform classic albums in their entirety, Fantomas gets a free pass. Why? Because this is a hard record to replicate in a live setting. Of course, Mike Patton, Trevor Dunn, Buzz Ozborne and Dale Crover (filling in for Dave Lombardo) pull it off without a hitch. This will sound ignorant, but I had no idea that Crover kicked that much ass behind the kit. Sure, The Melvins are sacrosanct, but who knew that their drummer could hang with Dave fucking Lombardo?

Patton is inhuman as always. I'm not convinced that he was born in this solar system. Now, I've read several complaints about the audio/video quality, but personally, I'm a happy camper. The audio is damn near perfect. I'm not sure what everyone else is hearing. With respect to the visuals, I can see where the splashy, high-strung editing might be aggravating to some folks. Again, it didn't bother me, as I felt that the flagrant imagery fit the music. It's supposed to assault all of your senses, and I was pleasantly assaulted. Remember, these are themes from violent, explicit films. You must learn to love chaos.

I do have gripes of my own. The concert is too short for my liking. And how about a few more extras? I haven't listened to the commentary track yet, and I have no doubt that it's funny (I mean, it's Neil Hamburger), but it's not going to give me any insight into the making of The Director's Cut. I'm probably asking for too much. I can't be the only fan who wants a Fantomas documentary of sorts, though. As it stands, I paid close to twenty bucks for an hour's worth of live tunes and a mystifying Easter Egg. That Easter Egg...wow. Q: What happens when you hand a taco to a homeless man and plop him down in front of a television? A: I'm still trying to figure it out.

The Rare Off Day

2011-12-02T23:09:00.002-05:00

I don't do "off" days, but this hasn't been a particularly inspiring day. No worries, though. A music-related DVD review and a new edition of Panels From Beyond the Grave are in your immediate future.

Geek Out #37

2011-12-01T21:52:00.004-05:00

Thanks to my buddy Tom for scouting this clip. Check it out, dearhearts...an episode of Tales From the Crypt featuring a cameo by Anders Hove of Subspecies fame. If that name doesn't ring a bell, shame on you. Hove played Radu, one of the baddest vampires in the history of the silver screen...er, the silver video shelf. He appears at the two-minute mark as a flamboyant photographer.

The Mummy Lives

2011-11-30T22:20:00.031-05:00

I should have known better. A mummy movie starring Tony Curtis? Released in 1993? Why did I buy this DVD? It's a cross that every completist must bear. The Mummy Lives may not be a part of a series, but I'm on a mission to smoke out every mummy-themed b-reel that wasn't fabricated by Hammer or Universal. I'm finding that the only one worth owning is Dawn of the Mummy, a grindhouse vestige that walks and talks like a zombie flick. The Mummy Lives walks and talks like a stagnant, driveling dress rehearsal for a teleplay co-sponsored by Lipitor and Lifetime Network. If that doesn't spell excitement, I don't know what does.

Just how exciting is this cut-rate flatliner? Tony Curtis was in his late 60's when he shot his scenes, and he plays the villain! We're actually supposed to buy him as a suave, ingratiating necromancer with the devilish charm of Count Dracula (he seduces a hot, young concubine during a flashback). Needless to say, he doesn't pull it off. The role of Aziru was written for Anthony Perkins, but common sense tells me that he wasn't the right choice either. Maybe they should have offered the gig to a Middle-Eastern actor...? Just a thought! Sadly, a miscast Curtis gives the least reprehensible performance here.

There are so many negative things I could say about The Mummy Lives. For starters, the plot is forcibly generic. A mummy is resurrected after an archaeological dig disturbs his sarcophagus. Once rejuvenated, Tony Kharis (get it?) becomes obsessed with a woman who closely resembles a courtesan he had a fling with centuries ago. Basically, he was mummified for dicking someone else's bitch, and now, he wants to dick the reincarnation of said bitch. Or at least that's what it says on the back of my DVD. The sets are cheap, the lead characters are irritating and the pacing is all uphill.

Seriously, The Mummy Lives is a wreck. We get a meandering dream sequence (a.k.a. the first act) and three different narrators to keep us entertained. Oh, and the mummy on the poster? Yeah, it's not in the movie. What a piece of piss. This review is bumming me out. That's how much I loathe this rigmarole calling itself a horror film. Fuck it; I'm killing this paragraph where it stands. Don't watch The Mummy Lives.

Parts Unknown #89: Raw

2011-11-29T22:14:00.014-05:00

The "holiday edition" of Smackdown just ended. Raw is old news, and I could justify moving on, but I skipped it last week. Maybe it's masochism, but I feel like I need to chime in on the red brand. Where is this show heading? Will Cena ever turn heel? Will Brodus Clay ever make his debut? Will Vince go one day without second-guessing himself?

PROS

~ Well, at least they're teasing a heel turn. At some point, they had to acknowledge the fact that their top face is booed everywhere he goes. Piper did his job. Cena did his job. But what did this segment accomplish?

~ I don't know if I'll ever be a Mizfit, but it makes sense for him to end JoMo's WWE career. I still can't take him seriously.

~ The Orton/Ziggler match. Not much to say here. Eh, I should have reviewed Smackdown.

~ Daniel Bryan is gaining momentum. It's too early for a title reign, but he's on the right path.

~ The main event. This is why CM Punk should have been the WWE Champion since Money in the Bank. The image of this company should have been rebuilt around Punk the way that it was rebuilt around Stone Cold in 1997. The question is, have they missed the boat? Is it too late to get the rest of society excited about wrestling again?

CONS

~ The Diva's.

~ Look, another meaningless match between Zack Ryder and Jack Swagger. Yawn. Again, Ryder should already have gold around his waist. Pull the fucking trigger.

Wake me up when Kane returns.

Super 8

2011-11-28T22:08:00.026-05:00

Originally, I wasn't going to review Super 8. It has been thoroughly examined by geek bloggers in every cloister of the web. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had a few things to say about this heartfelt sci-fi flick. Granted, all I can do is echo the sentiments of others. The general consensus amongst genre fans is that Super 8 is a warm, nostalgic creature feature in the same vein as E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I'm inclined to agree. J.J. Abrams succeeded in replevying that "Spielberg glow" that so many filmmakers have tried to espouse as their own. Not even Spielberg himself has been able to recapture lightning in a bottle, though he came close when he gave War of the Worlds a baronial facelift.

I wish I had seen Super 8 in theaters. This is a large-scale blockbuster done right. I have read crabby expostulations about the monster (I'll get to Cooper later), but if you're focusing on the sci-fi horseplay, you're missing the point. The plot concerns a group of kids, and that's where you will find the meat of the matter. This is a "coming of age" tale akin to Explorers or Stand by Me. I know that a script is well-written if it convinces me to root for the child characters. As a rule, I detest children (especially fictional ones), but I actually liked the kids portrayed by Joel Courtney, Riley Griffiths, Ryan Lee and the ridiculously cute Elle Fanning. They upstaged their adult co-stars.

Super 8 would be watchable with or without an alien. Of course, I should address the alien. It's...meh. I'm content with the design, but was it necessary to resort to CGI every single time we see the extraterrestrial quasi-spider? It's such an eyesore. Abrams should have approached the beastie effects however he would have approached them in 1979. That would have solidified the "throwback" vibe that he was shooting for. The digital droppings are a petty hindrance, but Jesus, they built the marketing campaign around the fucking alien. Either deliver the goods or extract the horror elements altogether. To be perfectly honest, I preferred the effects in "The Case." Suck on that, Industrial Light & Magic!

Detractors cite the derivative nature of the premise as the grapnel that drags Super 8 down, but this was never supposed to be an innovative project. It wasn't intended to be a groundbreaking motion picture, and if you ask me, it didn't need to be entirely original. The characters are sympathetic, the pacing is watertight and the central cast members are talented beyond their years. What else do you want? I mean, besides practical effects? And to those of you who believe that Super 8 is a sequel/prequel to Cloverfield, knock it off. If anything, it's a sequel/prequel to Witchcraft IX: Bitter Flesh, and no, I have no idea where that came from.

Album Cover of the Week

2011-11-27T20:00:00.001-05:00

Shitty band, though.

Matches That Time Forgot #23

2011-11-26T20:46:00.004-05:00

The NWO dominated WCW from late 1996 to early 1998. If you watch an isolated episode of Nitro from that time period, you'll have black-and-white merchandise shoved down your throat ad infinitum. It was a formula that proved to be successful in the short-term, but it wasn't the only reason why Nitro happened to be slaughtering Raw in the ratings war. There was a cruiserweight division, and yes, there was even a booming tag team division. Ah, real tag teams...remember those? Relatively speaking, the WWF had a strong tag division in late '96/early '97, but it didn't hold a candle to WCW's roster of celebrated tandems.

The Nasty Boys, The Road Warriors, Harlem Heat, The Outsiders, The Steiner Brothers, Faces of Fear, High Voltage (mere jobbers, but they had a cool look)...sweet line-up, eh? Today's match pits The Nasty Boys against Faces of Fear (Meng and The Barbarian, as managed by Jimmy Hart). It's an ugly slugfest. Honestly, I don't know why I chose to spotlight this particular bout, but it does serve as a reminder of how important the Tag Team Championship was under Eric Bischoff's incumbency. That's one thing he did right. Keep an eye out for Hart's high spot near the end. That's no typo, baby!

Metallica - RIDE THE LIGHTNING

2011-11-25T19:16:00.023-05:00

I can't pick a favorite Metallica album. Don't make me. Okay, if I had a gun to my head, I would say that I'm partial to ...And Justice For All. But it doesn't have the production of Ride The Lightning. Then again, when I'm listening to Master of Puppets, it seems like the best music ever recorded by human beings. No, I'm sticking with Justice. That's my final answer. Y'know, metal purists have fun excoriating Metallica for all of the imbecilic decisions that they have made over the years. They're an easy target. Let's face it; there is no rational explanation for Lulu or St. Anger. And yet, when the slop has settled, you can almost forgive them for taking a few detours. They wrote "Fade to Black," for fuck's sake.

Ultimately, Metallica's classic material is untouchable. Not even the ludicrous prolixity of a zonked Lou Reed can taint the legendary status of Lightning. Is it just me or has this album been eclipsed by the towering reputations of the releases that came before and after it? Kill 'Em All is the debut, so it has built-in significance. Puppets perfected a certain formula, and Justice marked the band's commercial breakthrough. From a creative standpoint, Lightning represents Metallica's biggest leap forward in maturity and songwriting skill. Most journalists fail to mention the abbreviated gap between Kill and Lightning. In less than a year, five badass dudes (you better believe that I'm including Mustaine) pushed the boundaries of heavy metal and created a face-melting epic in the process.

By comparison, Kill comes off as crude and elementary. The acoustic intro to "Fight Fire with Fire" should clue you in on the fact that Metallica is playing with a new arsenal of assault rifles. It doesn't take long for the track to rip your guts out, though. Fucking brutal. How brutal is it? It's so brutal, that it fingered your sister's unborn child. Too much? It doesn't matter; these riffs don't give a shit! The title tune is the most musically accomplished thrasher on display. "Fade to Black" might be the best metal ballad of all time. I realize that there are several contenders, but how can you deny Kirk's emotive leads? Christ, Kirk himself can't reproduce that kind of magic, and he is...him!

"Trapped Under Ice" is your basic speed metal song. Lethal, but aside from the bridge, it doesn't really fit within the context of the album. The Maiden-esque "Escape" does fit, but it's a little prosaic (in other words, it lacks balls). Ride the Lightning perks up with the malefic, foreboding "Creeping Death." Of course, this album wouldn't be so beefy without Flemming Rasmussen's bottom-heavy production. Why on Earth did Metallica stop collaborating with this guy? Forget Rick Rubin. Give Flemming a call, and hand him the studio keys for the follow-up to Death Magnetic. I was going to end this review with a Lulu joke, but I've bashed Lou Reed enough for one day. If you haven't listened to this seminal thrash opus in awhile, spend some quality time with it. It needs love, too.

Fuck This Holiday

2011-11-24T20:12:00.002-05:00

Remember, if your Thanksgiving turkey doesn't beg for mercy and see the face of his turkey God, you're killing him too quickly.

I, Madman

2011-11-23T19:03:00.041-05:00

Most genre fans refer to I, Madman as a sleeper hit, a jewel traced in obscurity. While I'll resist the temptation to make a dullard joke by subverting the term "sleeper," I will suggest that this film might be obscure for a reason. It's just an opinion, I know, but I chuckle when I read a review that wonders why I, Madman fell through the cracks. Could it be because the half-baked plot does a cruddy job of explaining itself? Could it be because the heroine is dumber than a satchel of penny loafers (I don't know; it's the first thing that came to mind)? Could it be because director Tibor Takacs expended all of his creative energy on refining the script for The Gate II: The Trespassers? Well, that last one is doubtful.

I don't enjoy lambasting a cult favorite. No one will tell you that I, Madman is a flawless masterpiece, but like I said earlier, it has its fair share of suitors. The set-up is inviting. Virginia is an unassuming bookstore clerk who can't seem to put down a trashy tome named "Much of Madness, More of Sin." Rapt by the macabre prose of author Malcolm Brand, she hunts down his only other published work, "I, Madman." At first, Virginia is intrigued, but each page becomes more and more disturbing. She begins to see the story's villain around town. In a scene reminiscent of Rear Window, she actually sees the black-clad caitiff butchering a pianist across the street. We know that reality is stranger than fiction, but has Virginia's fiction bled into reality?

Sounds cool, right? For what it's worth, I dug the ethereal exposition, despite the fact that nothing happens to Virginia until the 40-minute mark. The special effects are groovy, the acting is adequate and the flashbacks are authentic (love the costume design). Regrettably, I, Madman falls apart when it's forced to delineate a payoff. This is where I ask questions that the film didn't bother answering. How does Dr. Kessler jump out of the novels? We are led to believe that Virginia controls what happens, so why didn't she conjure up Jackal Boy sooner? And how the fuck did she conjure up Jackal Boy? If "I, Madman" is a work of non-fiction, then how is Virginia able to change the ending?

Oh, spoiler alert. Speaking of Virginia, why is she written as an ill-advised dunce? It takes her a millennium to piece the simplest clues together. Case in point, the library flub. Jesus Christ. And we're supposed to be in her corner? She could have easily...EASILY prevented the death of a co-worker, but she convinces the cops to stake out a different location. Luckily, Takacs tosses a stop-motion beastie into the climax to salvage an otherwise wretched third act. He would go on to helm a sprinkling of creature features for the Syfy Channel. I hate to say it, Tibor, but you peaked with The Gate. Seriously, that movie owns my soul.

I Violated WWE'S Wellness Policy

2011-11-22T19:44:00.003-05:00

Taking a break from Raw this week. I have too much other stuff to focus on. I will say that R-Truth's suspension makes me sick to my stomach. Way to go, Ron!

Review (of some sort) tomorrow.

WWE's Greatest Rivalries: Bret vs. Shawn

2011-11-21T19:01:00.049-05:00

I couldn't wait for this DVD to arrive in the mail. First off, I have the 3-disc set. Most of this review will pertain to the first disc, though. What can I say about Bret Hart and Shawn Michaels that hasn't already been said? The purist in me regards these two gentlemen as the most important wrestlers of the 90's. In actuality, The Rock and "Stone Cold" Steve Austin deserve that appellation, but as far as in-ring technicians go, the scrappers under today's spotlight did more for the industry than anyone else, especially during the New Generation Era. They made it possible for smaller guys to compete in main events, and not just to send the crowd home happy (although they certainly gave attendees something to talk about at work the next day).

The documentary spans two hours. It's hosted by Jim Ross, and it covers everything that you would want it to cover. Each section is prefaced by a video piece that runs down the major events of their careers. Oddly enough, my favorite chunk of the feature presentation occurs early on in the interview. I'm a tag team mark, so I was transfixed on any anecdote that involved The Rockers and The Hart Foundation. It kills me to know that WWE's tag division will never be as righteous as it was from 1987 to 1991. Goddamn 1991, a doleful year that saw the negation of almost every team that mattered, including my precious Demolition. Of course, The Rockers and The Hart Foundation had to break up, but still...fuck!

I love how frank and direct the interview segments are. Bret and Shawn are sitting right next to each other in point blank range of J.R.'s laconic, straightforward line of questioning. They couldn't squirm their way out of an awkward moment if they wanted to. I was surprised by how emotional things were getting towards the end, but I shouldn't have been. The Montreal Screwjob was a big deal. And that was only the beginning of an implausibly rough patch in Bret's life. The wasted opportunities in WCW, the death of a brother (Owen), the death of a dear friend (Curt), the death of a brother-in-law (Davey), the stroke...I have no idea how he soldiered through such austere adversity.

I admit, I came close to choking up when Bret recalled the day that he lost his smile. Shawn may have popularized the turn of phrase, but for The Hitman, it was all too literal (you wrestling nerds know what I'm referring to). If I sound a tad biased, it's because I'm a tad biased. Every fan has his/her preference, and mine happens to be The Excellence of Execution. Don't get me wrong; I enjoy Shawn's work and I respect his place in WWE history. It's just hard for me to overlook the shameless, infantile shit that he pulled in the mid-to-late 90's. The same goes for his confidante, one Hunter Hearst Helmsley (history tends to trivialize his role in The Screwjob).

The other discs? Worth watching. The tag bouts are electric, even if they share a handful of telegraphed spots. The ladder match is incredible. The other matches speak for themselves (the best being the WWF Championship match at 1992's Survivor Series). If I had to nitpick, I would debate the value of the third disc. Is it really necessary? It consists of a single match and a couple of Hall of Fame inductions. Couldn't they fit that stuff on Disc 2? If not, then add extra material to Disc 3. Give me match commentaries or bystander interviews (Nash, Jannetty, Neidhart, etc.). Again, I'm nitpicking. You need to pick this puppy up.

I fully expect the next chapter in the Greatest Rivalries series to be Bob Backlund vs. Man Mountain Rock.

Geek Out #36

2011-11-20T18:15:00.004-05:00

This movie is garbage. Ha!

Album Cover of the Week

2011-11-19T22:41:00.002-05:00

The Black Sleep

2011-11-18T22:22:00.037-05:00

Pitiful DVD cover, no? It's a shame that we have to settle for such haphazard packaging, but we live in an age where major studios don't see the point in nursing catalogue titles back to prestigious repute. Companies like MGM and Warner Brothers have taken the willy-nilly "burn on demand" approach to their libraries. Remember how excited you were when a new line of Midnite Movies was announced? Those days are over, my friend. Hell, if you don't check specific websites on a regular basis, you would never know that certain obscure films are available upon request. It's a miracle that I spotted The Black Sleep on Netflix.

This is a standard "creepy castle" flick from 1956. Ordinarily, it wouldn't goad much of a reaction from the horror community, but it didn't hit DVD until just recently. It's my understanding that it didn't even find a home on video. Another thing that sets The Black Sleep apart from equipollent black-and-white chillers is an all-star cast that includes Basil Rathbone, Bela Lugosi, Lon Chaney Jr., John Carradine and Tor Johnson. Let's talk about these dudes for a minute. Chaney is wasted in a thankless role as a profane brute named Mungo. Johnson does his "stumbling oaf" act, and to be fair, he does it well.

Lugosi? Poor, poor Bela. This was his penultimate gig before dying in the summer (Plan 9 From Outer Space holds the distinction of being the last picture that Lugosi appeared in). Of course, he is given the most humiliating part imaginable, that of a mute servant. No lines, no purpose, no dignity...wow, what a sad paragraph. Out of all of the luminaries headlining the bill, Rathbone is the clear victor. I don't mean to suggest that it was a competition, but if it were, ol' Basil made everyone his bitch. He turns in a grounded, puissant performance as Sir Cadman, a mad scientist who damages a few brains in his quest to bring his wife out of a coma.

The title refers to a potion that Cadman uses to anesthetize his patients. "The Black Sleep" disarms your vital signs. For all intents and purposes, you become a corpse, but only temporarily. It's comparable to the voodoo cordial in The Serpent and the Rainbow. The victims in The Black Sleep aren't quite zombies, though. It's semantics anyway. I haven't said enough about the quality of this b-movie (or lack thereof). The storyline is engrossing, and director Reginald Le Borg has the atmosphere cranked up to eleven (Nigel Tufnel would be proud). Obviously, Rathbone is fun to watch, as is Herbert Rudley as the doctor's reluctant assistant.

So why the mediocre rating? Well, I won't remember The Black Sleep a couple of weeks down the road. It's patently generic. If you've seen a great deal of "mad scientist" flicks, this one is going to taste familiar. You won't spit it out, but you won't reach into the cookie jar for a second helping. God, where is this analogy heading? What I'm trying to say is that The Black Sleep is dull. Good-natured, but dull. If it weren't for the talents of Basil Rathbone, I would have a hard time recommending it. Robert Z'Dar says, "I was disappointed. I thought it would be an hour's worth of a black guy sleeping. Where is my refund?"

Matches That Time Forgot #22

2011-11-17T22:26:00.009-05:00

I didn't watch much wrestling during the 2000's, but since rediscovering my love for the industry, I have done my homework. In doing so, I found that the WWE reverted back to the New Generation Era, if only for a few years. From 2005 to 2008, garish gimmicks and campy storytelling made a comeback of sorts. Don't believe me? Watch this match. Here we have The Great Khali versus Tatanka. Yes, this match exists. To say that Tatanka's second run in the WWE was largely exiguous would be a heinous understatement. Simply using the word "exiguous" would be heinous. And yet, he enjoyed modest success upon his return.

Khali was fresh off of upstaging The Undertaker. The creative team bent over backwards to hide his flaws, and for the time being, he was able to coast on his size. All of his matches on Smackdown were quick squashes, including this one. Vince did a decent job of putting him over as a monster heel, I suppose. I still prefer Giant Gonzalez, but whatever. If you watch the video, you will be treated to eight minutes of pulp. It's delightful. Tatanka's maudlin promo, Bradshaw's racist commentary, Taker's mystical interference (spoooooky)...it's straight out of 1993. The only thing missing is an ICO-PRO banner.

How are those donations coming along?

2011-11-16T20:06:00.004-05:00

I went on an online shopping spree recently, so I have a slew of cool shit to review. Most of it hasn't arrived yet, but it will be here before you know it (because you have no way of knowing when I'll receive it). Movies, music, a wrestling documentary...speaking of which, you can probably guess which WWE DVD I plan on covering. Here is a cryptic hint: their match at Wrestlemania 12 was an instant classic. Give up? I'm referring to the contentious rivalry between The Ultimate Warrior and Hunter Hearst Helmsley. Duh! You thought I was talking about The Godwinns and The Bodydonnas, didn't you? Dumb fuck.

Parts Unknown #88: Raw

2011-11-15T22:37:00.018-05:00

Three hours of Raw...you'd think that I would have a lot to say, but I don't. Shit, if it wasn't for Smackdown, I would take a sabbatical from WWE programming.

PROS

~ I enjoyed The Rock's contributions to the proceedings. Mauling Mick Foley was a clever, unpredictable move (it saved a sagging segment). The stand-off opposite The Awesome Truth wasn't booked properly, but it was an entertaining way to scratch the show. Miz and Truth needed to look stronger going into Survivor Series, though.

~ Mick Foley's reveal. I knew that he had appeared at a house show, but I was shocked to see him on Raw. In retrospect, I should have seen his arrival coming from a mile away. I'm not too bright.

~ The match between Kofi/Cara and Hunico/Rhodes. I approve of Cody's new entrance theme.

~ Zack Ryder's petition is a vote of confidence, or at least that's what I'm telling myself. I think that they will pencil in his shot at the United States Championship at the last minute.

~ Bull Buchanan was funny.

~ The Sheamus/Swagger match. I don't remember details, as I was beginning to doze off by this point.

~ Del Rio/Henry versus Punk/Show...I loved Punk's aggression. If he doesn't win the belt on Sunday, it will be a crime against reason.

CONS

~ Mother of cunt, the time they wasted on Cole's Challenge and Cena's "This is Your Life" could have been used to build relevant storylines, to spotlight superstars who never catch a fucking break, to do anything else! Goddamn! Why keep Cole as a commentator? Fucking why??? What's the point of dragging Jim Ross to ringside for one or two matches every other week?

~ Still no Brodus Clay?

~ Mason Ryan is godawful. Send him back to FCW.

~ A Kelly Kelly roll-up victory? Stupendous. You might as well 86 the entire Diva's Division. How can anyone take this bullshit seriously?

~ What are they doing with Kevin Nash? Seriously, what are they doing?

Three hours and nothing accomplished. Holy shit.

Panels From Beyond the Grave #11

2011-11-14T18:47:00.018-05:00

This review was written by part-time Panels From Beyond the Grave contributor Bob Ignizio. If you're a loyal reader, you should be familiar with Bob by now. Today, he is surveying a seedy sci-fi title known as Spaceman.

Click HERE to visit Bob's blog, an outlet for his movie-related musings. It comes highly recommended (by me, naturally).

SPACEMAN (1 of 9, December 2011)

Spaceman, a new 9-issue limited series from DC Comics' Vertigo imprint, looks and reads like something that would have been right at home in the pages of Heavy Metal or Epic Illustrated back in the eighties. The art has that cartoonish, yet edgy feel reminiscent of a lot of the artists for those mags, and despite the “mature readers” designation the title earns (mainly for a little nudity and sexual content), the overall vibe is more sophisticated juvenile than adult. In other words, this is fun trash that delivers the sex and violence adolescent boys (and those stuck in a permanent state of adolescence) crave, wrapped up in a reasonably intelligent sci-fi sheen.

The main character in the book is Orson, a simian-looking guy who was genetically engineered for life on Mars. The space mission he and his “brothers” were supposed to go on never happened, although Orson has dreams (or maybe they're more than just dreams?) of what might have been had he made it to the red planet. Instead, he's stuck on a future earth that is nothing short of paradise...just kidding; it's a dystopian nightmare. Seriously, what did you expect?

Orson ekes out a living salvaging junk and takes what pleasure he can from virtual reality sex and whatever drugs he can get his hands on. That said, he comes across as almost an innocent (read: not very bright) soul and seems genuinely concerned when he hears about a celebrity's child being kidnapped. The crime doesn't seem to have anything to do with the lower social echelon on which Orson resides, but by the end of the first issue, the two storylines have come together and - if I'm not interpreting the final panel wrong - in a way that connects to Orson's past.

I've become a fan of writer Brian Azzarello recently through his dark and violent take on Wonder Woman in DC's “New 52” reboot. Both in that book and here, he keeps things moving along at a brisk, almost cinematic pace, making sure we get the background information we need clearly and economically. There's not a lot of action this first issue, but it's far from dull. There's a nice strain of dry, dark humor running throughout, and with things getting tense towards the end, I expect considerably more excitement in the next installment.

As for Eduardo Risso's art, I'm reminded a bit of Dave Gibbons (Watchmen), maybe with a hint of Mike Mignola (Hellboy). His style is simultaneously gritty and cartoonish, and he really packs a lot of detail into each and every panel. He's also an excellent visual storyteller, something that really becomes apparent in the last seven pages, which go largely wordless.

It's still a little early to give this book a really fair assessment, but so far, I like what I've seen. And with this first issue priced at a mere dollar, if you're a fan of edgy sci-fi comics, what have you got to lose by picking this one up (of course, the price goes up after this, but hey, it's only 9 issues...it's not a lifetime commitment you're making here)? Three-and-a-half out of five Savages for now, but this is one where I think we'll need to see the whole series before making a final assessment.

Monster Dog

2011-11-13T21:16:00.039-05:00

I watched Troll II the other day. Believe it or not, I had never seen it before. It's requisite viewing for horror fans, so I needed to see what the fuss was all about. And...yeah, it's pretty bad. Here's the thing; I have made it my vocation in life to imbibe the weirdest, most obscure b-movies in the solar system. I've seen the shittiest of the shitty. Troll II is whacked out, but it's not the worst z-grade production that I've had to endure. As far as schlock goes, it's not the funniest aberration out there, nor is it the silliest. It's not even close to that ballpark. Well, it's close, but it's loitering in the parking lot.

What does Troll II have in common with Monster Dog? Nothing, I guess. Moving on! For the record, I'm glad to be moving on. After sitting through Troll II (and Best Worst Movie, the documentary that studies the appeal of said cult classic), I don't want to run afoul of anything that reminds me of Nilbog. So, Monster Dog. It was directed by Clyde Anderson. Hmm, that name sounds familiar. Let me check IMDb...interesting. Apparently, it's a pseudonym used by Italian filmmaker Claudio Fragasso. Gotcha. Many great artists adopt a nom de plume, an assumed name to apply to unrelated projects. Wait a minute. No, that couldn't be. Troll II was directed by Drake Floyd. Let's see what IMDb has to say about Drake Floyd...oh, fuck.

It's true. Troll II and Monster Dog were spearheaded by the same dense, borderline autistic auteur. I am here to tell you that Troll II is the better film. If you rented Best Worst Movie, you know that one of the things that hindered the "creative" process was the language barrier between the cast and the crew. Here, the gullies in communication are amplified. Monster Dog was shot in Spain by Italians. The star? Alice Cooper. Because why not? To Cooper's credit, he is probably the most talented actor in the bunch. He gives it the old college try, but his effort is invalidated by execrable dubbing. FACTOID: The man who supplies Alice with a voice had a bit part in The Passion of the Christ. It's a small world after all?

The perennial shock rocker plays Vincent Raven, a perennial shock rocker. Vincent travels to his father's estate to shoot a music video with his girlfriend and a ragtag troupe of flaky friends (a model, a cameraman, some chick and some dude). When they arrive to the dank premises, they are warned about a roving pack of wild dogs that has already claimed two lives. The locals point to Vincent as the catalyst for all of this carnage. His father was slaughtered by a mob of torch-bearing villagers who swore that Vincent Sr. was a werewolf. Is his blood tainted by a curse? Is there another werewolf commanding rabid dogs in the area to rip into innocent flesh? Is there a werewolf at all?

Monster Dog has a few novel ideas, but lethargic pacing and hideous special effects get in the way of a fun time. Customarily, I don't pick on cheap creature designs. I'm easy to please, but we never see a full werewolf suit. They didn't make one! We get a sloppy puppet and an embarrassing transformation sequence. That just won't cut it. This flick clocks in at 84 minutes, but it seemed like it took two hours for the defective storyline to resolve itself. I did enjoy the campy music videos, and Fragasso can do wonders with a fog machine. Still, Troll II offered a less traumatic viewing experience. The irony is paralyzing.

Album Cover of the Week

2011-11-12T23:22:00.003-05:00

In honor of the reunion...new album, motherfuckers!