Archive for the 'B-movies' Category

Jan

Comments Off on Blood Diner



“His pants were the obvious source of his super-powers!”

I love vintage diners. You know those old style diners where you could sit up at the counter and dodge the grease splatterings from the kitchen. Wood grain paneling surround your bright orange plastic booth and you have to avoid the newest stain on the floor smartly camouflaged by the 70’s style floor tiles. Orders were yelled by a middle aged waitress with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth with catchy titles like “Bloodhounds in the Hay (hot dogs and sauerkraut)”, “Adam and Eve on a raft (2 poached eggs on toast)” or the less apitizing “Angels on horseback” which is actually oysters rolled in bacon on toast. Yummy…. serve that in a smoke filled room and you got yourself some fine dining ambiance.

Sure the food was greasy and the atmosphere was noisey but it was your grease pit not some impersonal mega-restaurant chain. Now you get places like Johnny Rockets with their $7 hamburgers and awkward interludes of employees singing and dancing. There’s also Bennigans which is just an Irish dining experience without the drunken brawls. You can also see a lot of TGIF’s (Terrifying Godless Incarnations of Food) and the ever popular Apple Bee’s. They all pop up next to a strip malls like weeds. Well it’s time to stomp them out and stand up for the small businessman. Your heart attack shouldn’t occur at a Apple Bee’s where the last sounds you’ll hear is some poor sap getting a birthday serenade by workers covered in flair. Nope, let me die on that brown tiled floor with a couple partially chewed fries on my shirt. They’ll just step over me on the way out the door. “Hey Charlie, yeah you got another stiff over here from your food ya lousy cook. Come clean up this mess he’s blockin da door.” ahh the sweet sounds of the Jersey accent would be the last thing I hear before sitting down at that great greasy spoon in the sky. 

Speaking of Diners with questionable health standards. Blood Diner stands as a testimate to everything you thought might be in a fast food joint but were afraid to ask. Brothers Mike and George Namtu are the owners of their booming vegetarian diner where their only special ingredient  isn’t tofu but chopped up tramps in tight spandex. To guide them in running their venture business is the disembodied brain and eyes of their Uncle Anwar whom they recently dugged up and put in a canning jar. He’s no Gordon Ramsey but he is a loud foul mouthed organ with a jewish accent so that’s close enough.

Anwar gets a bit Fahklumpted as he orders his nephews to kill whichever big haired 80’s tramp walks into the diner but also demands they use only the best body parts for a resurrection of Shee-tar. Shee-tar is either a poorly named 2 million year old pagan goddess or the modern jungle princess of gold body paint. The dimwitted brothers patchwork together their golden frankenhooker with the spare body parts only needing the obligatory virgin sacrifice to bring her to life and rule the world. But that kind of ceremony can only work if it’s done at a punk rave party with a zombie buffet and motown harmony band. Mike hypnotizes a shy cheerleader with his Jedi mind tricks and dollar store neck charm convincing her that she actually wants to see a Nazi wrestling match that his brother is in. The date takes a sour torn when George bites off the ankle off his Hitler opponent and they have to knock out Connie unconciousness with a mean right hook (Isn’t that how Britney and Kevin Federline first met.) Some cops in 70’s leisure suits and greesy hair suspect that the brothers might be involved with the recent rash of nude areobic massacres and the recent killing of a handless vantriliquist chef.

Lead by a Travoltian “Saturday Night Fever” parody who oozes grease through every pore,  the cops track down the brothers  at the local rave club. On the main stage is a propped up Shee-tar with some newly grown tummy teeth about to snack on Connie’s noggin while zombies party at the buffet table. The only thing that could save this movie is deep frying a batter dipped hooker and a kung-fu naked chick…and luckily it has both. Can it get any weirder? Probably but I think they ran out of film.

This gross horror-comedy is supposedly a low budget tribute to Herschell Gordon Lewis’ trashy splatter classic Blood Feast and with the crazed splat stick humor you can see the influence but I wouldn’t put it in the same class. Especially bad acting all around on this one but still enjoyable for it’s pure outrageous weirdness. Retroman Steve says check it out, but watch out for flying body parts. 

 



– Nude areobic workout massacre
– Pickled brains
– Belching overweight vegetarians
– Vantriliquist diner chefs
– Deep fried hookers noggins
– Finger food
– Multiple mamboo hit and runs
– Kung-fu nudists
– Hitler wrestling 
– Zombie mosh pits
– Broomstick decapitation
– Gratuitous use of the line “Georgie, stop fooling around!”

 rated 7.3 out of 10

Blood buffets…take all you want but eat alll you take. Sheetar commands it.

Check out this clip from Blood Diner. This is why I Love to Mamboo!

Jan

Comments Off on Night of the Creeps

Chris discovers Tom Cruise's scientology hyperbolic chamber, the only side effect is continual shrinkage

“Chris discovers Tom Cruise’s Scientology approved hyperbolic chamber. The only side effect is his continual shrinkage.”

I think college frat guys are getting an unfair stereotype in film. In most movies they’re portrayed as the dumb jock whose out to boink every co-ed they stumble across and that’s only if they can take enough time to put their beer can down. They initiate freshmen pledges by forcing  them to carry around stemmed cherries with their butt cheeks or having them steal the rival teams animal mascot and put in the dean’s new convertible. Their frat house are like a demilitarized zones littered with pizza boxes from last years graduating class and empty keg cans make up most of their furniture. The place is so gruesome sometimes you can count the ring of stains on the walls and figure out how old the building is. It’s not their fault and I think I know where the blame firmly lies…it’s the cheap beer. College frat guys are always broke and are forced to buy cheap beer which leads to binge drinking and eventually some guy who thinks he can fly off the roof if he wears a cape and an adult diaper (and I have the metal plate in my head to prove that.) I think the colleges should institute a fine imported beer requirement. They can only drink a few though because, well who can afford to drink any more. No more Pabst Blue Ribbon specials for those incoming pledges either, that’s just cruel. Freshly sobered, the dumb meat headed jock suddenly becomes a wine critic, an upstanding member of society, a consumer of fine cheeses and toothpicked snacks. Just think about it, no more streaking pledges across campus…because that’s really not that funny unless your drunk. No more belching the alphabet or lighting farts, again not funny unless your hammered. Pizza boxes are recycled into green friendly IKEA packaging, no more rowdy football games on the TV just Antique Roadshow re-runs and rush week turns into home and garden tours where….. wait you know what? On second thought I think they should just keep the cheap beers and wear those greek embroidered polo shirts. Their inner caveman will thank them for it later when they get married.
Speaking of frat guys who are no longer in control of their own brains. Night of the creeps has a whole bus load of them as helpless co-eds faceoff against zombified frat brothers whose brains are infested with alien slugs. Makes your last prom date not look so bad don’t it? Chris “don’t call me George” Romero is a red headed nerd in a sweater vest and J.C. is a wise talker in an arm brace walker out cruising around pledge week. Suddenly Chris spots Cindy Cronenberg, a pretty college girl with the voice of a chipmunk hooked on helium. Chris can’t resist a girl who looks like a super model but sounds like Rocky from a Bullwinkle cartoon so he has J.C. try to introduce him to her. Unfortunately his weak human ears can’t handle her vocal octaves so they have to pledge a fraternity to impress her instead. Brad, their fearless leader and king of polo pop-up collars sends them on a pledge mission to steal a corpse and drop it on the front lawn of a rival frat house. Nothing really says a fun greek week like rotting corpse lawn decor so Chris and J.C. break into a medical lab on campus hoping to score some fresh dead. They find a freeze dried corpse instead who had a close oral encounter with some alien slugs 40 years earlier. Why the med students decided to freeze this guy like a TV dinner is beyond me. “We have to preserve his tall hair style for future generations!”

Smart as a brick J.C. hits the child friendly release button and the corpse starts spitting out slugs from it’s head like a broken Pez dispenser. J.C. has such a big mouth it’s an easy target for the alien slugs so he soon gets zombified during a bathroom break and his failed burning toilet paper roll defense. Dead med students start walking, janitors are turned into mopping alien incubators, zombie dogs and cats living together..it’s mass hysteria!

To save the world they get cop Detective Ray Cameron played pitch perfect by Tom Akins. Ray is hankering for some good old slug skeet shooting and blows the head off an infested axe murder earlier just to warm up. Meanwhile Chris and Cindy are torching some slugs-ka-bobs outside the sorority house and mulching their lawn with frat guy’s innards. Detective Cameron  fights off more zombies inside the house dirty Harry style and gets to deliver one of the great lines in b-movie history “The good news is your dates are here…the bad news is they’re dead.” That’s pure movie gold right there. The slugs have all gathered in the basement to munch on some freshly canned brain preserves and Detective Cameron has got a can of gasoline just waiting to start the pyrotechnic grand finale. If you’ve seen the more recent movie called Slither directed by James Gunn then you’ll see the direct influence of this classic 80’s horror slug-fest on that story. Now if the owners of this film would just release the darn movie rights already so we could watch it on DVD. In the meantime you’ll just have to sift through some old VCR tapes bargain bins to find this little horror gem. Retroman Steve says check it out and be sure to bring some matches.

Roadside Attractions

– 3 naked alien midgets
– 1 sorority house explosion
– 1 corpsicle
– 1 fratastic bus crash
– 1 cat of the living dead
– Doggy slug-dispensers
– Canned brain storage
– Peeping tom zombies
– Lawn slug exterminators
– Zombie mowing and landscape services

rated 8.6 out of 10 for the movie

The most popular fraternities on my campus? I Felta Thigh and Kappa Tappa Kegga

Check out the trailer for Night of the Creeps

Dec

posted by admin | December 24, 2008 | Action, B-movies, Grindhouse, Kung-fu, Review by Barry Goodall

Comments Off on A Christmas Story: Grindhouse Edition

Taglines:

  • If you don’t treat Santa nice he’ll put you on ice.
  • Ralphie has a present for you, a double barrel shot gun of death!
  • Naughty…nice…It doesn’t matter…Ralphie’s the guy with the gun.
  • Santa is belted, buckled, booted, and ready for action.
  • A double dog dare you of death!

Synopsis

Ralphie is a CIA operative who has been working the mean streets of New York for nearly 9 years. His latest assignment is as an undercover mobster within a powerful cartel family called the Parkers. The cartel is run by an overbearing drunken father referred to as “The Old Man.” He’s been selling bunk cocaine from the trunk of his Oldsmobile while the mother, a struggling go-go dancer, sells her homemade stews on the street to help buy more mashed potatoes for the mute brother Randy, it’s the only food he can digest. Mr. Parker collects erotic memorabilia including a highly valuable leg sculpture he imported from the little known southern island of Fragile. It’s his most prized possession.

One brisk winter day, the sculpture gets destroyed in a lower east side drive by. An apparent attack by the Bumpuseses gang, a ruthless group of southern rednecks who have an affinity for training large rabid attack dogs. Mr. Parker however believes it was in an inside job and that he has a rat among his associates. Later that day Ralphie tries to extract some information about the drive-by from Scut Farkus, a freckled face yellow eyed physcopath who demands everyone call him “Uncle.” Dangerous and unpredictable, he wears a hat made of human scalps and will break the arm of anyone who even look at him crossed eyed.

Ralphie hopes to track down his red rider assault rifle which he believes was used in attack on the Parker’s home and could be traced back to him. He beats Scut Furkus senselessy in a back alley until Scut confesses that he’s just a low level henchman for a rich city pimp known as “Big Red.” Big Red is a Santa impersonator at the local mall but is a cover for his underground white slave trade and has an even bigger hatred for Mr. Parker than the city cops. When Ralphie and Randy show up at his headquarters, they get surprised with a trap door that sends them both plummeting to the city streets below where some elve henchmen beat them to a pulp. Battered and bruised, Ralphie finds help from a local teacher known for her strict rules and deathly assassin moves. A teacher and martial arts master so ruthless she is rumored to have nailed a student’s tongue to a flag pole just for him being disrespectful.


After a lengthy recovery and training, Ralphie receives a secret coded message over the radio  from agent Annie who’s been tracking him and his mission’s progress. Project “Drink Your Ovaltine” is a go for Christmas day as a big drug shipment disguised as kid’s chocolate drinks is heading up state. Upon return to the family, Ralphie cover is blown from a phoned-in tip from Flick, a fellow mobster who suspected he might be a cop when he witnessed him talking into his secret decoder ring. Held prisoner at the Parker home Ralphie endures a series of tortures including being gagged with soap and forced to wear a pink bunny suit all for the amusement of the cartel. At his darkest hour a mysterious package arrives at the door bearing a tag that reads “A gift from Santa.” Inside is his red-rider assault rifle loaded and ready for action. He breaks free, grabs the gun and takes out the guards with extreme prejudice. Escaping through a broken window and nearly losing his eye in the process he drives  away in the family’s Oldsmobile. Flat tire and cursing under his breath he eventually makes his way to Chinatown and finds refuge as a fry cook in a small Chinese restaurant. Ralphie now in federal protection, hopes to never be found by the Parkers who want his head on a platter. From that day on the eye patched operative must always watch over his shoulders as the last words from Mr. Parker still haunt him… “Not a finger!” “Not a finger!”

Merry Christmas..Can you dig it suckas?

Nov

Comments Off on Night of the Demons

Night of the Demons

“Always remember, Don’t Drink and Die. Coffins and beer don’t mix.”

I’m having Halloween let down. No more Halloween horror movie marathons, no more pumpkin carving, no more creepy decorations unless you count those weird inflatable Walmart santas already appearing on people’s lawns, and of course no more candy binges.  arents refer to it as ” safety testing” the  candy, but we all know it’s really just a excuse to raid those ankle biters for all the Kit-Kats they can find. As a kid halloween is amazing. You could dress as a mutant Hell clown and go bang on your neighbor’s door and they’d give you free candy. If I did that as an adult I’d get arrested. I can’t believe how expensive costumes have gotten either. I think next year I should make my son wear a garbage bag and then he can just tell everyone he’s a raisin. It’ll probably earn him a couple used batteries and ketchup packets for treats but hey a little humiliation helps build character. Just look what it did for Charlie Brown. You just can’t put a price on that life lesson. So After all the spooky festivities have concluded it’s a tough 2 months wait until the consumer-tastic fun times of Christmas even though the malls started decorating back in September. Yeah I know Thanksgiving falls in there somewhere,  but isn’t that basically just a celebration of over-eating. Shoot, we do that most days anyways. Thanksgiving is just gluttony with the added bonus of football and hanging out with your flatulent uncle from Topeka. I Say phooey to you Turkey day and a fond farewell to Halloween. Looking forward to seeing you again next year, but this time bring more Kit-Kats.

In Night of the Demons a group of teenagers have a pretty lousy Halloween, but highschoolers should really learn to not throw parties at haunted mortuaries especially on a school night. Judy and her beef headed boyfriend, Jay decide to ditch the school-planned festivities and check out another bash hosted by the school’s resident goth queen, Angela. Angela, besides having a creepy joker like smile and a bleak fashion sense is also a chronic kleptomaniac. She shoplifts some party supplies at the local Burp n’ Go along with her tush shakin’ friend Suzanne played by none other than scream queen Linnea Quigly. The party’s final head count is about 8 people total, there’s some finger food and a Spencer gift disco light, so understandably the party fizzles out early. After standing around insulting each other for a few minutes they decide to throw a impromptu séance. Conjuring up ye old Bezzelobub on the haunted mirror hotline is always a good way to liven up any party. However the séance unwittingly unleashes some odorouse spirits into the house who search for the trampiest girls to possess and like moths to a flame end up in Linnea Quigly. It must be getting crowded in there, I suspect she had a couple demons in her already.

Suzzane passes some of that demon spirit onto Angela via an awkward lip lock, then Angela does a  spastic fireside flashdance for Sal, the Italian greaser. His everlasting Budwieser still can’t make her seem any more attractive  so he heads off to explore the rest of the house on his own. Some of the other teens have already split out early to various rooms to do the horizontal mombo. One couple even shags in a coffin thus making the killing that much more convenient for any nearby demons. It’s like getting free gift wrapping when you go shopping at the mall.  Two of Judy’s friends, Helen and Rodger who smartly ditched everyone earlier are still trapped in the house’s front yard surrounded by a never ending wall of doom. Like a couple of 80’s Eastern Germans they hunt the wall for an exit until Helen suddenly disappears  leaving a hyperventilating Rodger to go hide in his car. Meanwhile back in the house, a demonized Suzanne is trying out some creative ways to sample her Mary Kay cosmetic line and Angela who just snacked on a mullet fanboy’s tongue is gliding through the hallways on rollerskates hunting for survivors. Rodger decides his car isn’t the safest place to hide when a mangled Helen gets shot put onto his roof so he hightails it back into the house. He and Judy  take refuge in the basement which is always the safest place to hide and Judy goes all McGyver-like with a make shift blow torch to fry her demonized friends. The extra crispy demonites chase them back outside as they try to scale the barbed wire wall like a poorly planned prison break. There’s been eye gouging, coffin dismemberment, tongue chewing, and  flame throwing so I’d already call this party a rousing success. Will anyone survive the night? Will Rodger ever live down being dressed like a gay pirate, and what will happen to all those delicious party hors d’oeuvres they left on the snack table? More creepiness  than outright horror with some great atmosphere and campy dialog, I’d consider this a perfect 80’s horror film, Retroman Steve says grab yourself a bag of Kit-Kats and get ready to party.

Roadside Attractions

-Bovines with mullets
-Demonic inhalant mist
-Goth girls gone wild
-The amazing dissappearing lipstick trick
-Giant demonic easy bake oven
-1 homemade pipe torch
-2 demonic ankle grabs
-Illegal use of a sours balls joke
-Fireside go-go dancing
-Eye gouging
-Tongue chewing
-Coffin smashing
-Hors d’oeuvres of horror
-Barb-wire climbing
-Fresh homemade apple die

rated 10 out of 10 for the movie

Lessoned learned from this film, Mary Kay cosmetic should have a warning label “not to be taken internally”

Check out the trailer for Night of the Demons

Oct

posted by admin | October 13, 2008 | 70's movies, B-movies, Comedy, Cult Film, Cult films, Musical, Uncategorized

Comments Off on Rock ‘n’ Roll High School



“So a mouse, a French leprechaun and an Indian walk into a bar…”

You know I often wonder why people refer to high school as the best years of their lives. Do these people actually remember what is was like back then, or do they get those years confused with a “Saved by the Bell” episode? This adolescent socialist prison system had to be some sort of evil physiological test confined to a rat maze of smelly lockers. Perhaps it was created by an ancient race of aliens in order to understand human behavior. If you’ve seen some of the school board members, you’d believe it, too. High school was divided into social cliques in their own 70’s street-gang style. There were the nerds, the geeks, bandzies, spazes, jocks, ice queens, druggies, snobs, and other lesser-known sub-categories like “fans of David Hasselhoff” or “kids that can play Casio keyboards.” And yes, I belonged to that last group ( I can still play Van Halen’s “Jump.”). It’s amazing lunch time didn’t erupt into a turf war. My money would be on the nerds…they had skills like MacGyver and could rig-up some explosives with a napkin, a couple of wires, and some day-old burritos. Watch out for the ice queens, though; they were like brain Ninjas…they’d leap from the rafters and attack your self-esteem and poor fashion sense. It’s strange looking back and wondering why we ever cared about who likes who; will I be able to learn to play Axel-F on my keyboard; will I ever pass Algebra? Guess what? Algebra…you’ll never use it again. That’s why they build calculators into shopping cart handles now. Gym class? I haven’t had the need to climb a rope since then, and don’t plan to, unless I’m involved in a prison break someday. Chemistry class…I seem to remember something about a periodic table, but I get that confused with the term “occasional furniture.” Just remember, kids: these are not the best years of your life; those are coming later and it’s called “college”…and possibly “retirement” for others. But do count your blessings. No paying taxes, no house payments, no responsibilities, and an unlimited amount of time to play Halo 3 on your Xbox. Curse you, Snipermaster07 and your unlimited training time. I will defeat you someday.

Wizard!!!!!!Speaking of high school kids with too much time on their hands, “Rock ‘n’ Roll High School” is a 70’s musical featuring the Ramones and a wide assortment of teenagers who are most likely to break out and dance at any moment. Gym class turns into Jazzercise; freshmen get stuffed into lockers; and hallways become punk rocking mosh pits. PJ Stolls of “Halloween” fame plays Riff Randal, the always-perky rock ‘n’ roll rebel whose obsession in life is to write a song for the Ramones and have them serenade her in her bathroom. Kate Rambeau (not the Vietnam vigilante) is her nerdy friend who has a crush on the football captain, Tom, played by Vincent Van Patten. Tom just happens to be even geekier than Kate with his name proudly embroidered across his jersey, as well as his lame pickup lines about the weather and driving around in his Dungeons and Dragons Warlock van.  Hey haven’t I seen this van somewhere else?

 

Johnny and Kate are trained in dating techniques by none other than the gigolo of cool, Clint Howard. He’s Ron Howard’s more handsome brother. He plays Eaglebauer, the school’s one-man, one-named Mafia, who runs a very profitable business from within the boys’ bathroom stalls, complete with his own secretary and voice-over announcer. I see a future corporate CEO position for this guy. Embezzlement and corruption sure…but the man’s got moxy, and already has a receding hairline as a teenager.

A new principal is brought to clean up the school, Miss Togar the Ogre (Mary Woronov). She is a tall Nazi-like warden, whose hair buns are wound tighter than Princess Leia’s. She also enjoys blowing up mice with blaring rock music. Hey, all this lady needs is a date and a day at the spa. Her plans is to rule Vince Lombardi High School with an iron fist, along with her Boy Scout hall monitors Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. Riff fights back by camping out to buy tickets for the town’s big Ramones concert. The band shows up in a big pink Cadillac with the phrase “Gabba Gabba Hey” blazoned across their license Plate, while eating chicken and playing guitar. Yet Riff still wants to buy the ticket and doesn’t run away screaming. Nothing against the Ramones, their music defined punk rock, but they sure were a homely group of rockers, and Joey, their lead singer, was the definition of eccentric. The man lived off wheat germ and riboflavin, and would cower in the shadows to avoid the deadly rays of the sun. Also an honorable mention to Paul Bartel, who plays the wacky music professor and recently converted Ramon-ite. He shows up to the concert in a French-Leprechaun outfit, complete with beret, rocking out with a giant white Rat, and an Indian Chief. Now there’s something you won’t see in “Grease.”  The Ramones show up later at the school for yet another concert (Why did the students even have to buy tickets to begin with for the town concert?), and after a good old-fashioned album burning by the parents, they end up blowing up the school with some homemade dynamite, mixed by Kate Rambo…Yes, she finally lives up to her namesake. The TV announcer signs-off by reminding us “if your principal gives you trouble and you want the same to happen at your school, then give Screamin’ Steve a call.” Screamin’ Steve is now on a terrorist watch list, and the students are serving time in Guantanimo.

If you liked cheesy musicals like “Little Shop of Horrors”, “Grease”, or “Hairspray”, I think you’ll rock out to this cult classic and lasting film tribute to the Ramones. It was originally titled “Disco High School”, and they thankfully changed the title out of fear that nobody would see it, except Travolta fanboys. And you can only handle so much on-screen Bee-Gees. Retroman Steve says, “Gabba Gabba grab a copy and check it out.”

Roadside Attractions

-Boy Scout hall monitors
-blow-up doll sexual assaults
-freshman locker stuffing
-remote-controlled airplane flying
-explod-o-mice
-rock ‘n’ roll gym class
-bra- fu
-music instructors in berets
-Ramones bathroom attendants
-extreme hall monitoring
-record-ka-bobs
-lunch lady firing squads
-shag carpeted vans

rated 8.6 out of 10 for the movie

most memorable quote: “If you don’t like it, you can put it where the monkey puts the nuts.”

Check out the trailer for Rock ‘N’ Roll High School

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