Blood Capsule #217

EYEBALL (1975)

Every time I review a giallo, I start by saying the same thing.  I'm not a big giallo guy.  And it's true, but at this point, I don't feel the need to further disassociate myself from the works of lionized auteurs such as Dario Argento, Luigi Cozzi, and Umberto Lenzi.  After all, something is making me return to these films, even if it's just every so often.  I named Argento because...well, he's Argento.  I named Lenzi because he directed the subject of today's capsule.  Eyeball bears the marks of other pictures in this subgenre, though there are key differences.  To wit, the killer dons a red raincoat in lieu of black gloves.  Our cannon fodder consists of American tourists seeing the sights that Spain has to offer.  I'm not sure which crew member to eulogize for picking such gorgeous locales, but that person deserves a firm handshake and a slice of pepperoni pizza.  Thin crust.  No mushrooms.

If you're wondering how the title manifests itself, each victim is bereaved of their left eye.  The entire socket is scooped out.  Don't worry; we only catch the aftermath (I know some folks are touchy when it comes to ocular mutilation).  The kills are plentiful, so the pace never gets bogged down with too much police procedural poppycock.  We are treated to lesbian horseplay.  We're also privy to arguments between those very same lesbians, which I enjoyed.  Hmm, that sounded strange.  What I mean is that same-sex couples are rarely depicted realistically in the ways of exploitation, so it was nice to see conflict stand in for supplementary boobs.  Of course, we still get boobs.  Elsewhere, Lenzi takes advantage of a scuzzy carnival funhouse.  "Shades of Child's Play 3" are words I was not expecting to write, let me tell you.  If I had to sum it all up, I would start a new paragraph.

This isn't life-affirming stuff.  The killer's reveal is about as exciting as C-SPAN, but overall, I had a reasonable amount of fun with Eyeball.  Recommended to fans of Seven Blood-Stained Orchids, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage, and glaucoma.

A few thoughts on Alien: Romulus...

Well, I didn't think I would catch Alien: Romulus in theaters, but that's exactly what I just did. It was...it was. Certainly a solid entry, but it occurred to me that I just wasn't having much fun with it. Say what you want about Alien Resurrection; at least it had a fun streak. Visually speaking, Romulus feels pale and conservative. And it has to be said...the myriad of callbacks to the original are superfluous. I don't know why we needed to see Ash (don't worry, that's not a spoiler). Eh.

I don't mean to sound so downbeat. There is plenty of action, and by extension, there is plenty of goo/gore. I loved the "zero gravity" scene. Probably 3 Z'Dars, though I'd have to rank Romulus somewhere near the bottom of the franchise. It's a rental at best.

Blood Capsule #216

LETHAL TARGET (1999)

If I don't sound like my usual beguiling self, it's because I'm not feeling so great.  Without going into details, I have stomach issues, and I'm pinning the blame on Lethal Target.  I have a track record of associating physical maladies with whatever b-sludge I happened to watch that day.  I know what you're thinking.  "Dom, you're the common denominator.  Maybe you're the problem."  If that's your attitude, it's safe to assume you haven't seen this execrable endurance test.  This movie is cause and effect in action.  I'm convinced that it can trigger symptoms related to all manner of ailments.  Rickets, distemper, cerebral autosomal dominant arteriopathy with subcortical infarcts...I could go on, but I think you get my point.  On the surface, this is a banal Alien ripoff.  It reminded me of Xtro 2: The Second Encounter, if that tells you anything.

A detained marshal will receive a conditional release if she accepts a peculiar mission.  A research-intensive spacecraft experimenting with interdimensional teleportation has returned with nary a soul on board.  Yeah, it's one of those Event Horizon scenarios.  The ship has been infested with deadly cargo, namely a lifeform I will refer to as a not-xenomorph.  Despite the general-purpose title, Lethal Target is devoid of gunplay or "buddy cop" pratfalls.  But there is a catch.  The sci-fi is mixed with softcore porn.  It could easily be repackaged as Witchcraft XIV: In Space.  Surprisingly, the creature effects are halfway decent, which is the only reason I'm bothering with a Z'Dar rating above a goose egg.  This flick is painful.  It's a small miracle that I'll never have to sit through Lethal Targets (or Lethal Target: Romulus, if you prefer).

Random Match Alert

So I was watching Bret Hart take on Booker T when I thought to myself, "Man, this match is killer.  I should share it on the site."  And here we are.  This match is proof that Bret's WCW run wasn't all catastrophic.  Dig the patented figure four leg lock around the ringpost.  That's the stuff!

Blood Capsule #215

NOT OF THIS EARTH (1995)

I just had to watch all three of these movies, didn't I?  What a grand idea.  My intentions were pure, but I think that imbibing the same formula three times in a row may have tarnished my viewing experience.  Learn from my mistakes, kids.  To put it plainly, I have no idea why Roger Corman decided to remake 1957's Not of This Earth twice.  Research has turned up nothing of any value.  If you have inside knowledge (maybe Roger's nephew mowed your lawn or deflowered your granddaughter...or both), please enlighten me.  Here again, the plot has not been altered.  An alien carrying a briefcase - no, forget it.  I need to write that synopsis about as much as I need to mainline black tar heroin into the circuits of my wheelchair.  Suffice to say, the set-up is familiar, so you might be wondering how this direct-to-video doodad's running time extends past 90 minutes.

Padding.  That's how.  "But Dom," you interject.  "Was the movie as bad as you're making it sound?"  No, of course not.  It's functional.  The cast is fine, although I have to say that Elizabeth Barondes (star of Night of the Scarecrow) is the least interesting nurse we've met so far.  Crack jokes all you want; Traci Lords had charisma.  And other things.  She had other things.  Believe it or not, the special effects are split between practical prosthetics and crude CGI.  Technically, 1995's Not of This Earth features the most monsters out of the bunch, but they are limited in their utility.  This was a big year for Corman remakes.  He also produced modern recapitulations of The Wasp Woman, A Bucket of Blood and Humanoids From the Deep.  None of them are worthwhile, in my not-so-humble opinion.  Shocking, I know.

This is the worst Earth of the "trilogy."  I loved the original, but yeah, I'm ready to move on with my life.

THE Ghost Dance

Yesterday, I watched 1983's Ghost Dance with a good friend of mine.  We enjoyed ourselves at the expense of the movie, and to be honest, my recollections aren't "concrete" enough to write a thorough Blood Capsule.  We were just chatting for half of the running time.  We gabbed about important things, mind you...y'know, politics, current events, Kenner's line of Alien toys.  My friend - we'll call him Bobby - made a good point.  There haven't been any cool Native American genre films in decades.  Stuff like Scalps, The Manitou, Demon Warrior, and 33% of Creepshow II. Perhaps the modern zeitgeist would consider these properties to be racially insensitive.  But think of the potential of, say, a horror-centric version of The Indian in the Cupboard.  How sick would that be???

For those curious, Ghost Dance is rather uneventful.  Probably 2.5 Z'Dars.  Tune in tomorrow to read my thoughts on 1995's Not of This Earth!

Blood Capsule #214

NOT OF THIS EARTH (1988)

When you last left your roving reporter (that would be me), he...er, I had spent some quality time with 1957's Not of This Earth.  As serious horror freaks are aware, it wasn't uncommon for Roger Corman to revisit his own material decades down the road to varying degrees of success.  To that effect, we have 1988's Not of This Earth, a self-referential update directed by Jim Wynorski.  It probably won't surprise you to learn that this version is spackled in smut.  Aside from the magnanimous nudity (more on that later, believe me), what we have here doesn't stray too far from the fringe perimeters established by the original.  The plot is identical.  A black-clad alien drops in our terrestrial terrain to siphon blood from unsuspecting vagrants.  Of course, he also tries a blood bank, and that's where we meet the shapely Nadine.

Oh, Nadine.  I didn't know going in, but this was Traci Lords' first "legitimate" role after escaping the adult industry.  It's also the last film in which she appears nude.  I'll spare you any infantile jokes that spring to mind.  Actually, she's a proficient actress, and she gives her performance the right amount of moxie.  As with 1957's Earth, 1988's Earth is beaming with Corman's personality.  Much of the dialogue is the same, although I wouldn't call this a shot-for-shot remake.  Intrinsically, it doesn't do anything wrong, yet I prefer the original.  I can't quite put my finger on it.  It's still a fast-paced affair, and it goes without saying that I appreciated the charitable skin shots.  If you're keeping tabs at home, I have another Not of This Earth waiting to be watched.  I am both cautiously optimistic and optimistically cautious.

Recommended to fans of New Wave Hookers, Sex Fifth Avenue, and Tailhouse Rock (thank you, IMDb).

The results are in...

It has been decided.  September will be Random Sequel Month!  As for October, it's going to be epic.  But that's an announcement for another time.  Stay frosty!

Blood Capsule #213

NOT OF THIS EARTH (1957)

This production was written and directed by Roger Corman.  As such, it feels like it was written and directed by Roger Corman.  That's a net positive.  At the risk of getting ahead of myself, Not of This Earth was remade twice in fairly quick succession.  I don't know why, but that's a dissertation for a separate Blood Capsule.  I can only review one cult classic at a time, and heavens above, I was gobsmacked by this little flick-a-dee.  This is Corman at his sharpest, and by extension, his most economical.  Earth will buzz your tower.  Somehow, it accomplishes more in 67 minutes than the average b-prospect does in an hour and a half.  The plot is lean.  An alien wearing jumbo sunglasses visits a blood bank to arrange a transfusion.  You see, his blood is evaporating.  His race has been plagued with nuclear radiation and he was sent to our blue marble to find a cure.

What does that mean for his doctor and the nurse that has been assigned to treat his quasi-eldritch illness?  First things first, Beverly Garland is fantastic as Nurse Nadine, and sweet mint julep, she's ridiculously gorgeous.  That's irrelevant, but yowza.  The dialogue is witty as hell.  Again, you can hear Corman saying these lines ("Prepare the automobile.").  Pacing-wise, the script moves faster than the Mexican food in my colon.  I was sold halfway through, but then, the film played its trump card.  We get a goofy monster, a divine varmint that resembles a fleshy umbrella.  If you're wondering if that puts this sucker over the top, it most certainly does.  We're dangerously close to 5-Z'Dar territory.  I'm serious.  That's how much I enjoyed Not of This Earth.  "But Dom, it doesn't star Traci Lords."  Hold the phone!

Rassle Inn #51

Has it really been over two months since I wrote one of these things?  That can only mean that I haven't been inspired, at least in terms of wrestling.  But the truth is, WWE's product has been ridiculously entertaining as of late.  It's not perfect.  There are plenty of talents wavering in the middle of the card, and regrettably, half of the women's roster is simply blah.  I'll be curious to see if/when Nikki Cross starts having matches as the tragic, disconcerting Abby the Witch.  So what's the general consensus on The Wyatt Sicks?  I asked my friends on Facebook what they thought (all two of them) and the response was overwhelmingly positive.  If recent episodes of Raw are to be believed, live crowds are warming up to the new stable as well.

I'll be (im)perfectly honest.  I'm still not sure where I fall on the matter.  They're getting a reaction, but how long will that last when there are no coherent storylines to support them?  Where is this going exactly?  How many more tapes can be delivered to the commentary table before logic falls apart?  I don't want to be pointlessly pessimistic.  I'm willing to keep watching, and obviously, I'm not alone.  My idea?  I'm glad you asked.  Give them a run with the tag titles and build to a unification match against The Bloodline (preferably, Tama Tonga and Tonga Loa) at Wrestlemania.  The tag division needs teams with strong identities, and plus, you would have a clear heel/face dynamic.  Just my two cents.

What's going on with AEW?  No, I'm asking.  This will be the first All In that I don't plan on purchasing.  Even if I was excited about it, it feels silly paying over $50 for a PPV in 2024.  I do want to see Mercedes Mone vs. Britt Baker, I guess.  Meh.  Raw starts soon.  Now that, I will watch.  Well, I'll watch most of it.  Fingers crossed that the move to Netflix signals the end of the three-hour era.  By the way, I've decided that Dominik Mysterio is one of my current favorite wrestlers.  You don't understand.  Us Doms...we gotta stick together.  I don't have much of a choice.  Plus, more Dom means more Liv Morgan.  Again, my hands are tied.  Play my entrance music!

Random Match Alert

It's that time again.  Please enjoy Sting and Ricky Steamboat taking on Bad Attitude!

Blood Capsule #212

DEMONIA (1990)

There is a scene in Demonia where a man is locked in a "possessed" meat locker.  Before he meets his ultimate demise (he gets a hook to the eye socket; this review is beginning to sound like a Cannibal Corpse song), the cuts of cow...um, beat him up, if you'll forgive the tortured syntax.  I had to laugh.  It was one of the few bright spots in what is regarded as one of the last decent Fulci films.  I'm not sure that's saying much, mind you.  It was one of the last Fulci films period.  The threadbare story follows a Canadian archeological dig in Italy.  Try to stay with me.  Pick-axes penetrate the earth to reveal the desiccated remains of five nuns.  A prologue penetrates the film to reveal the agonizing crucifixions of said nuns.  That's pretty much it.  I mean, that wasn't a plot summary; that was the plot.

Hey, I'm always up for a little nunsploitation.  Admittedly, I'm not well-versed in this subgenre, but I do enjoy it.  Unfortunately, Demonia doesn't seem to want to be enjoyed.  The death sequences are there.  The exaggerated gore reminds you that you're watching a studied professional at work.  Alas, aside from a dude being ripped in half (!), this doesn't feel like a Fulci feature.  The vibe is off, man.  Where is the blustery, oppressive atmosphere of The Beyond and City of the Living Dead?  I would say that I'm being harsh, but Fulci agreed with me.  He disowned Demonia before it was even released.  I'm glad I stuck through it, though.  It has its moments, and I'm a bit of a completionist anyway when it comes to Italian horror.  Recommended to fans of The Convent and Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit.

Not to sound Patreonizing, but...

I don't like having to advertise my Patreon, but the simple fact is, it helps.  I don't think people realize that this is, like, what I do.  I can't work a "normal" job.  I don't mean to make my situation sound dire (Patreon doesn't pay the bills), but it is what it is.  The lowest tier is currently $1.  If everyone reading this chipped in one dollar, I wouldn't have to write these cringe-inducing posts (what is this, Wikipedia?).  Maybe I'm the only one cringing.  I take any and all support VERY seriously.

Any other ways you can help out?  Yes!  You can buy my lovely book HERE.  And click HERE to access my Patreon.  You can rest knowing that your money is going to a terrible, terrible cause.

They walk, stalk, and KILL!

Yesterday, I was eaten by a mutant venus fly trap.  Special thanks to the cast and crew of Venus DIE Trap!  I don't know if I'll catch the acting bug or not (I did take the Pfizer vaccine), but I'll let you know when you can watch my screen debut.  I have to say, my "big break" role was perfectly sized.  Only a couple scenes, but I had plenty of dialogue.  It was an absolute blast being on the set of a low-budget horror film.  I never imagined that I would be able to tick that one off of my bucket list.

Just so you know, my newfound fame will definitely change my moral fiber.  The film hasn't even been released yet, and it's already gone to my head.  Who remembers the little people anyway?

Blood Capsule #211

THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE (1986)

If you've been playing along at home, you know that I've reviewed two other adaptations of Edgar Allan Poe's Murders in the Rue Morgue*.  You might be surprised that this one even exists, as I was.  To be clear (and present), the 1932 version - starring a truly bent Bela Lugosi - reigns supreme.  This mellow teleplay isn't bad, though.  Yes, it was made for television, but the premise doesn't exactly call for an inflated budget or excessive use of corn syrup.  In keeping with tradition, the script bears no resemblance to any prior iteration of the Poe short story.  And ostensibly, it doesn't veer too far from the source material, but I wouldn't know.  Hey, lay off; I haven't read it since high school.  Should I start a new paragraph?  I'll start a new paragraph.

A vehement George C. Scott plays Auguste, a former inspector who was forced into retirement by his prefect.  He is begrudgingly coaxed onto a case by his daughter and by his apprentice (Rebecca De Mornay and Val Kilmer, respectively).  The case?  A string of brutal killings that has the constabulary perplexed.  It should be obvious by the names I just dropped that the cast is simply excellent.  This is definitely a performance-driven piece.  Be that as it may, I'll admit that I did doze off a couple of times.  I won't blame the movie.  No, I'll be the bigger man and say that this shouldn't have been a late-night viewing.  There is a neat plot twist that I won't spoil, but suffice to say, I dug the final act.  Recommended to fans of Murders in the Rue Morgue, Murders in the Rue Morgue, and Murders in the Rue Morgue.

*Click HERE to read my review of Morgue '32.  Click HERE to read my review of Morgue '71.

Album Cover of the Whatever

I can't remember if I've already posted this cover from Finnish death metal titans Demigod.  I want to say I have, but...eh, I'm posting it again.  Killer record, too.

Blood Capsule #210

MAD AT THE MOON (1992)

If you haven't noticed, I specialize in reviewing obscure films (duh, I know).  It's a swell feeling when you find something interesting that virtually no one else has seen.  Then there is the other side of the coin.  That festering, possibly communicable side.  God only knows what kind of disease I contracted from watching Mad at the Moon.  Cool title, right?  This thing wants you to believe that it's a werewolf movie, and technically, I guess you could say...yeah, it's a werewolf movie to the extent that Twilight is a vampire movie.  At least the supposed monsters in Twilight had fangs.  Apart from growing feral sideburns, the "monster" in Moon doesn't actually transform.  Oh, and he doesn't kill anyone.  He does howl, but hell, I've been known to do that after a few cans of Vanilla Coke.

This is a limp-wristed stab at a horror/western hybrid.  There is some semblance of a storyline.  Jenny is at risk of becoming a spinster, so she winds up marrying the first slob who decides to propose.  In truth, she's in love with her husband's brother, a dark, handsome wastrel who has maybe a paragraph of dialogue.  That's another thing.  Director Martin Donovan is all about silence.  He was probably trying to build the mood, but instead, he creates insufferably long stretches of absolutely nothing.  Needless to say, the pacing is dead.  No, undead.  I can't believe that Mad at the Moon exists.  We do see eye-catching imagery from time to time, which tells me that someone spent money on this mishap.  Yuck.

The Green Slime...board game?

I recently rewatched a certain motion picture.  It has long been a favorite of mine, and if you haven't seen it, you totally should.  Originally, I was going to get on here and simply talk up the awesome-ness of The Green Slime (and its theme song), but then I learned a nifty piece of trivia.  In 1980, there was a board game inspired by The Green Slime!  It's not considered official merchandise, but in reading about the game, it becomes clear that this thing was definitely modeled after the cyclopean monstrosities in the movie.  Apparently, you can either play as a crew member or as an "awful green thing."  How flippin' cool is that???

I noticed that the game is on eBay, so it might go on the ol' Christmas list.  Failing that, I might just buy it myself.  I think it's obvious that I was meant to play The Awful Green Things From Outer Space.  I mean, it was written in the stars!

Blood Capsule #209

ISLAND OF THE FISHMEN (1979)

I think I've made it clear that I have a well-documented admiration for "fishman" movies.  The last time I took a swim in these muddled, crepuscular waters, I encountered mediocrity in the shape of The Presence.  Just how many more "fishman" follies are snorkeling around out there?  You'd be surprised.  I have other titles in my sights, but for now, let's talk about Island of the Fishmen.  First off, you may have seen this film under a different designation.  In 1981, Roger Corman and Jim Wynorski released it as Screamers for American audiences.  It was refashioned and essentially repackaged, containing over fifteen minutes of new footage, some of which was added gore.  I peeped this version years ago, but my memories are hazy at best.  You may prefer the domestic cut.  Personally, I...need a paragraph break.

Borrowing elements from The Island of Dr. Moreau, the plot follows a prisoner ship that washes ashore onto a remote island.  The military doctor and his convict shipmates run afoul of a demented sportsman type who seems to hold authority over a (mad) scientist.  We also meet the scientist's beautiful daughter and the ichthyoid creatures that protect her.  Could these deep-sea customers be the descendants of the indwellers of Atlantis?  I hesitate to reveal much more.  This droning kind of synopsis might turn viewers away from Fishmen, but you know what?  I was entertained.  The sets are impressive, and while it does take time to start bubbling, the action is explosive.  Literally!  An erupting volcano turns the backdrop into a near-apocalyptic scene of falling stalactites and roving fishmen.

Island of the Fishmen is divested of the sleaze and bloodshed you'll find in Screamers, but I still found a way to have fun with it.  Believe it or not, there is a sequel, and yes, I'm going to grab a copy.

You can decide the fate of the universe!

If you head on over to the Random Reviews Fan Club, you can help me decide what to review in September.  The poll is currently tied...it's either going to be Random Sequel Month or Mummy Month.  As for August, it's going to be the usual stack of random nonsense.  And October, well, I have something planned, but I'm not ready to announce it yet.

Rock the vote!

Blood Capsule #208

8 MAN (1992)

Do "Robocop ripoffs" count as a subgenre?  I'm reorganizing my VHS collection, and I need to know where to put R.O.T.O.R.  No, actually, today's movie was only partially inspired by Alex Murphy.  Based on an anime and a manga, 8 Man tells the story of a cop who is gunned down on duty.  His remains may have been perforated with lead (or an alloy of zinc and copper; some metalhead I am), but the police chief believes that he is a perfect candidate for an experimental scientific procedure.  Yes, a supercop is born.  The department he works for contains seven subdivisions, so he is dubbed 8 Man.  It should be noted that this b-machine takes just as many cues from Ultraman and other Kyodai Hero crusaders as it does from Robocop, but the similarities are hard to miss.  Still, apart from a couple of squibs here and there, this is no bloodbath.

The 83-minute running time is deceptive.  While the film does start with zippy action sequences, it takes awhile to get to the pith of the plot.  Efforts are made to establish a love triangle.  I wasn't feeling it, but to be fair, I don't feel human emotions.  In a sense, I could relate to our protagonist.  There is a steel rod affixed to the lower half of my spine.  Scoliosis be damned, I tell people that I was gunned down on duty.  Back on topic!  The lion's share of 8 Man is nothing but nighttime exteriors, and it's constantly raining.  I mean, it's coming down in sheets.  Credit director Yasuhiro Horiuchi for making everything cinematic and streamlined.  All in all, this was an acceptable way to spend a Friday night.  The climactic showdown between dueling 8 Men is fun, although I didn't have much investment in the outcome.

Superior to Robocop 3, yet inferior to R.O.T.O.R.  Recommended to fans of 8 Mile and The Hateful Eight.  Oh, and Octaman.

Image taken from the arcade game, a side-scroller published in 1991 for the Neo Geo MVS.

Freddy Speaks: A Cool Random Find

I remember catching this documentary (or something very similar) when I was 9 or 10 years old.  It scared the bejeebles out of me!

Blood Capsule #207

THE BELIEVERS (1987)

Santeria is a vaguely (or not-so-vaguely, depending on the person practicing it) occult religion that came to prominence in Cuba in the late 19th century.  It's also an overplayed Sublime song.  For our purposes, we'll focus on the esoteric kind of Santeria that gets bandied about in today's subject.  Typically, it's synonymous with Haitian voodoo, but while this film would make a sweet double feature with The Serpent and the Rainbow, that's technically a different thing altogether.  I wouldn't use The Believers as a reference guide, however.  It doesn't portray these beliefs in a particularly positive light, and when it comes down to it, I don't know many Cubans who are big proponents of child sacrifice.  Of course, I don't know many Cubans.  What the hell happened to this review?

All you need to know is that this is an incredibly effective piece of work.  Martin Sheen turns in a believable performance as a distraught therapist.  Everyone else is dialed in, from a sympathetic Helen Shaver to an immeasurably creepy Harris Yulin.  The pacing is even-keeled.  I didn't notice that this was a two-hour ordeal.  And that holds water coming from me, as I can be a bit of a fussbudget when it comes to anything that runs for more than 90 minutes.  Hey, I'm a busy man.  I'll have you know that I'm scheduled to listen to death metal later this evening, and after that, um, I might watch an old episode of The Outer Limits.  My time is valuable!  Anyway, do yourself a favor and check out The Believers.  Recommended to fans of Papa Shango and dead chickens.

Blood Capsule #206

This review was requested via Patreon.  If you'd like to request a review (and please do show mercy on me), click HERE.

MIDNIGHT (1982)

I need to go on a diet.  I only mention it because this film comes off like a diet version of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  Granted, it's missing cannibalism.  It's also missing a pervading sense of trepidation and that overall queasy feeling that permeated the Tobe Hooper classic.  In writer/director John Russo's defense, he claims that he never saw TCM before concocting this backwoods...slasher?  I guess it could be labeled as "survival horror," but then again, so could my ex-girlfriend's post-coital facial expression.  After a portentous prologue, we meet Nancy.  She runs away from home to circumvent her scumbag stepfather and winds up hitchhiking with a couple of petty thieves.  Along the way, our merry cast of ne'er-do-wells stumbles into a Leatherface-sized moonling and a pair of crooked cops.

Let me fast-forward a bit.  We find out that a Satanic cult is picking off civilians, and I don't consider that to be a spoiler.  I mean, that's your basic premise.  "Basic" is probably the most fitting adjective I could use to describe Midnight.  This is a meat-and-potatoes kind of flick, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.  To the contrary!  I found the character-focused script to be refreshing.  For about an hour anyway.  The payoff doesn't land, although I got a kick out of Tom Savini's splatter effects.  Apparently, he turned down Friday the 13th Part 2 to work on this film.  There is a sequel floating around out there somewhere.  I doubt that I'll be able to nab a copy.  I shouldn't say that, as I've spent questionable amounts of money in the name of VHS collecting.  How much is questionable?  Mind your own business, partner.

Album Cover of the Whatever

I can't say that I'm a huge fan of Limbonic Art.  I like symphonic black metal, but...meh.  For those who are interested, this record came out last month.  And that cover...space dragons?  Okey-dokey.

Random Match Alert

Have I posted a Doink match lately?  If not, I apologize.  Here he is grappling with Bob Backlund!

Check out my Patreon!

So I've been posting every other review to my Patreon to give those folks early access.  As of today, I'm going to start posting all of my reviews on Patreon a full week before they show up here.  And I just posted one, so the next week might be a little slow.  I have to support my horrible habits somehow!

A fool and his money...

I'm just vain enough to fall for "colored cassette" gimmicks.  While I wish I was a little more frugal, I have to admit that these things are cool.  Can you blame me for wanting to show off the latest additions to my collection?  These tapes aren't particularly rare (at least I don't think they are), but again, look at the pretty colors!  Dark Roots of Earth comes in midnight blue.  It's actually my favorite Testament album.  Does that count as a hot take?  Because it really shouldn't.  The Legacy is purple, and I'm looking forward to getting more acquainted with it.

That's all for now.  Hey, it's my site; I can post whatever nonsense strikes my fancy.

My latest wrestling crush...

This just in - Stephanie Vaquer is on her way to NXT!  She was last seen at AEW's Forbidden Door where she wrestled Mercedes Mone.  It's clear that she has something, and quite frankly, she outgunned the former Sasha Banks.  Now, you may be wondering how I can balance so many crushes.  While it may be true that I'm beginning to lose count, it's totally cool.  I can handle it.  Totally.

Blood Capsule #205

THE MONSTER MAKER (1944)

I watched a VHS reissue of this cozy b-quickie, a joint release by Lunchmeat and The Video Pharmacy (check down below for more info on Lunchmeat founder Josh Schafer).  This isn't a paid advertisement, although I'm still waiting for a company like Hostess to sponsor my reviews.  Did you know that twinkies are the official snack cake of Random Reviews Incorporated?  But I digress!  If The Monster Maker was produced today, it would exist in a space far removed from the studio system.  While technically not an independent feature, it was hatched on "Poverty Row," a humble enclave within Hollywood that pottered around with low-budget projects.  You may have heard of PRC.  They were also responsible for The Devil Bat starring Bela Lugosi.  I'm getting mired in trivia.  Let's cut to the brass tacks, the nitty-gritty, the sum and substance of the matter.

The storyline follows Dr. Ivan Markoff, a deliciously mad scientist who has brewed a serum that cures acromegaly, a disorder of the pituitary gland that causes disproportionate bone growth.  He has also brewed a serum that spreads acromegaly.  When a renowned pianist spurns Dr. Markoff's advances toward his daughter, the brilliant bedlamite sees an opportunity to use his discovery as a bargaining chip.  This results in some pretty gnarly make-up effects that would make Jack Pierce proud.  The methodical pacing did test my patience, but this whimsical artifact only runs for 62 minutes.  I didn't get a chance to say that I was ever truly bored.  There is a subplot involving a caged primate that doesn't go anywhere.  Eh, you can't win 'em all.  Recommended to fans of neurotoxins.

Josh has released a VHS-themed joke book...buy it HERE!

Do you like death metal and H.P. Lovecraft?

If so, I've got the album for you.  I will say, I don't think I'm cluing many people in on Unaussprechlichen Kulten.  They have been around since the early 2000's.  Haxan Sabaoth is album number six, and it's a monster.  Something cosmic with tentacles, I imagine.  Each (de)composition is thronged with dank, smelly riffs that are broken up by intermittent blastbeats and inoculated with a heavy dose of occult atmosphere.  There is something to be said for a well-placed pipe organ.

Now that I think about it, this might be Unaussprechlichen Kulten's best album to date.  Zoth-Ommog* would approve.

*The third son of Cthulhu.  C'mon, everyone knows that.

My book is out! My book is out!

See up top where it says BUY MY BOOK?  Click that.  Or just click HERE.  I've highlighted TWO WAYS you can read my book.  It's been a long road, folks.  Or is this just the beginning???

Blood Capsule #204

DEATH MAGIC (1992)

I don't make a habit out of dipping my toes into shot-on-video waters.  As much as I love unmitigated masterstrokes such as Video Violence and Cannibal Campout (that sounds facetious, but I'm totally here for those flicks), my micro-budget batting average has been miserable as of late.  Will Death Magic spark a hot streak?  Sticking with a baseball analogy, will this supernatural slasher signal a feverish spate of home runs, or at least ground-rule doubles?  I'm afraid I'm not making it out of the infield.  'Tis a shame, as I like a lot of the elements here.  The set-up is a breeze.  Five necromancers summon the spirit of a confederate soldier, a nasty rapscallion who was put to death for senselessly butchering Native Americans.  Within the first twenty minutes, our villain is called forth and blood is spilled.  Yay?

I think that's the problem.  Death Magic blows its load in the first act, which only leaves running time for repetition and strained character development.  Obviously, I don't remember names or faces.  I do remember boobs, and I suppose I should be grateful for the drive-in totals.  The gore gags are so simple, and yet, so charming.  Lamentably, the pace isn't industrious enough to support the bare essentials.  I wanted to dig Death Magic, too.  I'm awarding one Z'Dar for effort and another Z'Dar for licentious nudity.  There are eight breasts total, so that comes to...um, I'm terrible with fractions.  I knew I should have majored in algebra instead of forensic pathology.  By "forensic pathology," I mean "I dropped out of community college."  Yay?

"Oh, alright.  You're too cool to lock up."