I gotta admit I prefer budget lodging in this Michigan economy. Just give me a room with a bed and a TV and I’m living the life of a king. It probably comes from my dad whose idea of a family vacation was going up north with us in the back of the pickup so we’d just slide around like loose change. Apparently he thought we could just go limp if we were in an accident. Luckily we’d only stop for some deer venison jerky or to close up that loose tailgate. Once at our destination he could always find the cheapest hotel in the area. I kept holding out for the possibility of a pool but my dad would just say “They charge you extra for that…I can just spray you down with the hose out back.”

The motel would have signs advertising amenities like “AIR” or “COLOR TV” usually placed over a flickering neon sign with a letter or two burned out. Yes enjoy your stay at the “HO EL” where you too can fall asleep to the gentle sounds of a bug zapper killing it’s prey or play that always popular game of “name that stain.”

The room would usually smell of dank mothballs and your feet would sink immediately into an inch deep matting of wall to wall shag carpet. All this fenced in by your standard issued 60’s wood paneling. I can still feel those walls closing in on me like I was Han Solo in that Death Star garbage room scene. “Wait, there’s something moving in the carpet!” If you were lucky you’d get a bed with those vibrating magic fingers and for a mere quarter you could get your inner organs reorganized or your spine realigned without those hefty chiropractor bills. Now that I have my own kids I too find myself drawn to those roadside budget lodgings but I know to always keep a can of bug spray handy and look for one with a heated pool. So if you’re ever on Lost Highway I suggest Big Marge’s Sunset Motel. The Sunset has clean rooms, great rates, and the morning coffee will put hair on your chest. Marge is proof of that.

Speaking of hotels you don’t want to stay overnight at. The Grand Island Hotel in “Bloody New Year” redefines the term “tourist trap.” A group of middle aged looking British teens after a long day of harassing carnies crash their sail boat on a remote island. There they find a strange Bavarian looking hotel seemingly abandoned and hastily decorated for a New Years party. Turns out an experimental government plane took a nose dive on the island back in the 50’s creating this sort of time rip in space where the dead are stuck haunting the hotel. Sorta like the line at Secretary of State only for the undead so rightfully the spirits there are a bit cranky. At first things seem pretty normal, maids service is sporadic, beds get turned down mysteriously. There’s also open bars and peeping toms, but nothing you wouldn’t otherwise expect at your Hotel 6. Unfazed the soggy group find some vintage clothes left over from a Happy Days rerun to change into and proceed to investigate the rest of resort. Downstairs there’s a B-movie marathon playing on a makeshift theater showing a much more interesting “Attack of the Brain Stem” film but then they cut over to some lame home movies of the hotel instead. “Bring back the brain stems!”

Things do liven up a bit when an Arabian sheik fresh from the set of Aladdin leaps out of the screen and kills Spud “I’m Alrighta” with a scratch to the face. A good reminder to always wash your hands! This horrifying event doesn’t seem to affect the rest of the group which range from apathy to boredom “Oh bullocks Spud’s dead… maybe we should wrap him in tinfoil and poke holes in him.”

The group wisely decide to split up to make the killing go more quickly  Tom and his girlfriend head off to investigate a nearby beach house and try to get in some nooky time. Once inside they they get attacked by a malevolent fish net and a demonic end table that they impale with a fish hook. If only they had learned early on the true horrors of Red Lobster decor!

Meanwhile Rick and his girlfriend head down to the beach front for some afternoon clam digging but are soon drawn to mysterious sounds of laughter in the nearby woods. The sound gets louder as they approach the center of the island and find themselves in an arborist nightmare of giggling trees and laughing shrubs. The chia-pet demons start dive bombing them so they run out of there faster than Mark Wahlberg in a crappy Shyamalan film. They end up at at crash site of vintage WWII action plane where a zombie pilot’s head explodes and ruins Rick’s stylin suit jacket.

But then things get weird…

Like a Scooby Doo episode the carny gang from the mainland appear on the island fresh from their rowboat workout to terrorize those darn meddlin’ kids. People start turning into fondue faced zombies and  carnies get their heads ripped off like twist caps on soda bottles. There’s disappearing maids, dandruff storms, elevators that soak up patrons like big bounty towels and there’s evil furniture banisters with Kung-Fu grip. I think I might have hallucinated that last part but I swear at one point they get attacked by ping pong balls and ride a billiards table like a surf board in a zombie disco. These are just some of the many amenities you too can enjoy at the Grand Hotel island!

The guest list dwindles down as most of them now are Demonites under hotel management. Rick and his girlfriend not wanting a bad case of bed hair or getting disemboweled battle their way back to shore to find the getaway rowboat. Will they discover the secrets of Grand Island? Will they escape the ghosts evil clutches? Was Mr. Bean the only thing funny to ever come out of Britain? All this and more can be answered in “Bloody New Year.”

I was half expecting Bloody New Year  to just be another run of the mill holiday themed slasher but it turned out to be a fun little creepfest with some obvious nods to The Shining..well except without all those pesky things like plot or acting to get in the way. Retroman Says check it out “and be sure to bring a clean pair of Alan Whickers you bloody land lover, or I’ll box yer blimey ears you bugger. Gots No time for Rumpy Pumpy!”

- 1 exploding zombie pilot
- 1 shotgun zombie blast and dismemberment
- 1 neck corkscrew
- 2 banister demon Muppets
- Carnival boat parades
- Peeping tom ghosts
- Multiple arm choppings
- Paranormal furniture movers
- Invisible bed turnover services
- Sheik scratch fever
- End tables demon possessions
- Laughing bushes
- Death by boat propeller
- Attacking fish nets
- Gut punching
- Killer ping pong balls

8.2 out of 10

“ohhh Bullocks.”

Check out the trailer for Horror Hotel (bloody New Year)

“Introducing the New 2010 Chevrolet Chernobyl with optional power windows, power locks, and death ray emitting trunk.”

This weekend, while working on my Camaro behind the old toolshed & trailer, I busted a fan bracket off the engine block. There’s no nearby Autozone or NAPA dealer, and it was after 5 on Sunday. Luckily, Joe Don’s Salvage Yard is just a hop, skip, and a drunk stumble down the road, and I can always count on Big Joe to still be up watching “Law and Order” re-runs at his front office desk, mostly to avoid his old lady. The man refuses to get cable, and uses an old black and white TV with rabbit ears wrapped in tin foil. Usually I try to sweeten the deal with something deep fried as a gift for Joe. He’s much more willing to help me scrounge around the lot if his veins are immediately filled with salt and nitrates. However, this time I had nothing with me, not even a piece of pocket-warmed beef jerky; I was going into a gun fight without a six-shooter and Joe knew it. He immediately became agitated, cursing and mumbling under his breath, fumbling with the TV antenna, and just waved me off in the general direction of where I might possibly find the fan bracket or get a painful staph infection–whichever came first.

I find the junkyard to actually be a very peaceful place to think and meditate, much like a cemetery… minus the possibility of a spontaneous zombie uprising, though I am well prepared for such a situation. Sure, I always get funny looks at funerals when I carry that machete around, but you can never be too careful. I like to show it to people in the procession and say things like “Yeah, you never know…we might need to bury him twice.”

After hours of dead ends I finally found what appeared to be a Camaro similar to mine, with a heck of a lot more rust. It was a bit hard to tell though, as most of it had been flattened like a PB&J in a kid’s lunch sack, but the engine was still intact, so with my trusty Allen wrench, I removed the fan bracket cautiously. I couldn’t help but imagine the scene of Indiana Jones removing the golden skull from the altar. Checking around for hostile natives, I made my way back and paid the fair price of $25 and the promise of a bucket of chicken for Joe when I came back. Who said you can’t put a price on adventure?

Speaking of pioneers in the salvage industry, Emilio Estavez plays Otto Maddox, a rebellious punk who enjoys head banging with friends and eating his dinner out of dog food cans. Ahh, the rebellious youth of the 80’s. These are the same guys that wore Wham shirts. Howard Dean Stanton plays Bud, a seasoned, disgruntled repo-master who enlists Otto to join his dojo of car jackers. The other beer-inspired repo staff are: “Lite”, a streetwise gun touter, and “Miller”, a hippie mechanic who tries to teach him the repo code of ethics, and hopefully convince him not to make “Mighty Ducks 2.” Taking a few too many head butts at the previous night’s rave, Otto feels a kinship to them and the life of the auto repossessor. Sure the hours stink, but you do get the benefits of getting shot at by enraged Mexican immigrants, or getting the snot kicked out of you by a Mowtown band with guitar cases.

Meanwhile, during all this grand larceny fun, a one-eyed self-lobotimizied scientist, J. Frank Parnell, is transporting glowing shrimp platter aliens in his car trunk across state lines. Besides breaking some food import laws, he’s also encouraging people to look in his trunk, which immediately vaporizes them, leaving behind only the fresh scent of pine. It’s his own Ark of the Covenant on wheels, minus the Nazi’s. J’s plan is to meet up with Leila, one of the few members of the official fan club of UFO’s who isn’t still living in their parents’ basement, and expose the world to the truth. Otto puts some of his smooth moves on her, and she gets Estevezed in the back seat of his car. How romantic, but she hopes the horizontal mambo will encourage Otto to help her find the scientist, so they can  book the intergalactic shrimp cargo on local talk shows.

A $20,000 bounty is put on the Malibu, and soon a secret G-team in rented suits, along with every repo and car theft ring in the county is out looking for it. The G-team is led by a cruel German dominatrix with a mean kung-fu grip robotic hand (do they charge extra for that?), and an unhealthy obsession to get those alien remains at any cost. Otto gets captured  and is tortured by Mrs. Roboto so that she can try to learn the whereabouts of the actual car, but Otto is rescued before his hair gets singed. He later encounters his ex-girlfriend, Debbie, a particularly nasty punk rocker who left Otto for his best pal at a mosh party, leaving him heart broken in his tighty whities. It’s your typical boy meets girl, boy catches syphilis kinda of love story.

Debbie is hooked on speed and sushi eating with her new boyfriend, Boni, when they run into Otto while they’re robbing a 7-11. Everyone has a gun pointing at someone else’s head, leading to a pretty frantic session of scratch and win tickets. Boni however, just wants to settle down, get married and have little spiked hair social deviants. But instead, he ends up getting a shotgun blast to the chest. Just an early preview of married life, my friend; count yourself lucky.

Any semblance of a plot was lost a long time ago, but no one really cares at this point. We meander the city streets at night in glowing cars, have spontaneous shootouts in hospital stairwells, torch street people, and listen to hippie mechanics spouting universal wisdoms about the cosmic order of consciousness and the lattice of coincidence. Gotta love Saturday nights in L.A.

Repoman is a definitive cult classic that gets even better upon repeated viewing. A special Roadside award goes to Emilio Estevez, whose role as Otto redefined the anarchist punk rocker, and Howard Dean Stanton, who fit his role as a crusty, seasoned car reposessor perfectly. If I saw either of these two guys near my car, I’d be getting nervous. Retroman says check it out, and be sure to order the all-you-can-eat sushi buffet.

- Obsessive air freshener collecting
- Generic food in a can
- Radioactive intergalactic calamari
- Devo radiation suits
- Mace to the face
- Rat tossing
- Coffee to the face
- Emilio Estevezing
- Mexican rockabilly Vegas lounge singers
- Levitating cars

Rated 9.3 out of 10

“Don’t fear the Repo…baby I’m your man…we’ll be able to fly now”… man, those lyrics ring so true now.

Check out the trailer for Repoman

We’re back with some more movie previews that will hopefully satisfy your B-Movie craving. Most of the movie trailers except for “Black” are either out already, or are coming out sometime in 2009.  Since “Lost Skeleton Returns Again” about to be released we wanted to include the trailer for the original Lost Skeleton of Cadavra in case anyone wanted to refresh their memory for the upcoming sequel. So, turn down the lights, grab your favorite snack/beverage and enjoy the previews below!

The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra

A brilliant homage from writer/director Larry Blamire that perfectly captures the look and feel of those cheesy low-budget sci-fi movies from the Atomic Age. Filled with plenty of hilarious dialog and DIY visual effects that would make Ed Wood proud. Filmed in Skeletorama.

The Lost Skeleton Returns Again

This sequel takes place in a jungle and it appears to have the same elements that made the first one so great. Of course the Skeleton is back and he has a bone to pick! Well, actually only the skull returns this time even though the sequel reportedly was given a bigger budget. And speaking of bigger budgets, this movie proves that you don’t need millions of dollars, random missing film reels, or fake looking distress filters to make a fun throwback movie. I really enjoyed the cheesy charm of the original Skeleton released 2001 that made retro sci-fi movies popular again. Let’s hope this sequel can re-capture the spoof-tacular magic of the original.

Trail of the Screaming Forehead

Looks like another hilarious send-up of sci-fi movies from the 50’s by director Larry Blamire. This time “Foreheads” want to rule the world. Some of the visual effects will remind you of stop motion pioneer and legend Ray Harryhausen (Clash of the Titans). Harryhausen also gave the film his stamp of approval by releasing it under his “Ray Harryhausen Presents” banner. Check it out, but watch out for the brows on the prowl .

Black

At first glance this just looks like your standard action movie set in some foreign location (this time France). But thanks to a fresh mix of comic book style action, a 70’s flavored soundtrack (think Shaft) and some voodoo shenanigans this movie aims to keep things interesting. Even though this movie looks like fun I’m a little concerned that a rapper is playing the lead role. I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that it doesn’t turn out to be another “Cool as Ice.” Also, the film is in French and has English subtitles, so you might want to brush up on your subtitle reading skills before seeing this movie. But don’t worry you still have plenty of time as “Black” still hasn’t received U.S. distribution.

Rampage

Behold, the Turkish answer to Rambo. A great action movie parody by the same guy who gave us Turkish Star Wars. This movie has a fully loaded arsenal of cheesy sound effects, funny lines and rapid fire hand to hand combat best described as “Wack-Attack-Fu” that is guaranteed to make you laugh so hard you might loose consciousness. Coming to DVD April 24, 2009 for the first time since it was made nearly 23 years ago.

The Ghastly Love of Johnny X

After seeing the awesome retro styled movie poster online, I just had to check out the trailer. And I’m happy to say that from what I’ve seen this movie looks like a fun musical spoof of those old black and white sci-fi movies. There is even a guy wearing a Devo hat. Hey, Devo wasn’t around in the 50’s? This is what I imagine Grease would have looked and sounded like if it had been done as a sci-fi movie. Also, Phantasm fans keep an eye out for Reggie Bannister who can be seen in the trailer.

Hobgoblins 2

Who ever thought director Rick Sloane would make a sequel to his film Hobgoblins, especially after receiving a brutal Chevy Chase style roast courtesy of the MSTK 3000 guys. Well, it took 20 plus years, but Sloane bravely returns with Hobgoblins 2. In the first movie the title creatures which look like a poor man’s “Munchie” escape from an old film vault in their evil quest to make dreams come true and cause murderous mayhem. Fans will be happy to know that the highly anticipated new installment continues the director’s successful formula of stock explosions and car crashes along with his “I threw this together in 5 minutes” production design. And I’m sure when people hear the Hobgoblins theme song at the end of the trailer the catchy tune will break download records on iTunes.

“Kmart’s new blue-light special mascot wasn’t very well received. He kept scaring away the customers.”

I know I would make a poor survivalist. When the zombie apocalypse comes don’t expect to find me living off the land in the high hills at my makeshift campsite. No my idea of roughing it  is more in line with a cheap roadside hotel that has hard beds and that don’t have those mini-fridge stocked with those neat little wine bottles. Just for fun I like to pretend I’m a freakish giant when I drink them. Give me a microwave over rubbing two sticks together anyday but mainly going camping is a flash back to those days of being crammed into a leaky tent with my cousin Ted whose uncontrollable flatulence could only be drowned out by his bear like snoaring. It seems everytime we did the family camping trip a terrential downpour would happen in the middle of the night creating a nice mudslide into our tent…mostly towards my side making a wading pool for me and my sleeping bag. I’d awake from my dreams of a buffet breakfast truck coming to save me in to being both soaked and hungry. My dad being the great outdoorsmen wouldn’t pack much food supplies instead opting to be  ”living off the land” by fishing or eating potentially poisonous berries along the way. The lack of fish in the nearby weeded lake didn’t seem to sway his determination either, so after a fine meal of saltines and blue gill we’d take a short hike in the to burn off all those extra calories. Now with as many horror movies as I’ve seen I’d  always halfway expect a masked psycho to jump out from behind a tree or a family of cannibals carrying us away to make us their next meal, but I figured I could just trip Teddy and buy myself some time. The camping trip would usually end with me desperately needing a shower and having a case of poison oak on my butt when I used those leaves for toilet paper. Ahhh those were good times.

Speaking of grizzled survivalist, Jack Palance is living off the land and is out to kick some alien butt in “It Came Without Warning.” This little 80’s made for TV sci-fi homage pits humanity against flying fanged frisbees that look like like vomit novelty props. A camouflaged dad and his hippy son are out hunting in the woods one day when suddenly super suction alien discs attache to their backs tossed at them from an unseen alien disc golfer. This particular part of the woods seems to be pretty popular for both disc golfing and camping as later that day a group of boy scouts and their troop leader also show up. The super trooper gets a dose of alien frisbee-fu and all the kids run away screaming from a shadowy lurking figure…well except for one kid who sort of just mosseys along instead. Just about that time a mystery van of college co-eds driven by Tom, a young David Curroso in mini shorts are heading towards the same wooded area for a relaxing camping trip. Beth (Lynn Theele), Greg (Christopher S. Nelson) and Sandy (Tarah Nutter) are along for this CSI miami camping trip of terror. If only Tom had some sunglasses he could cooly take off to indicate his disdained interest in this Camping Scene Investigation.

Once at the campsite Beth and Tom go off into the woods to perform their own “body frensics” leaving Greg and Sandy to better get to know each other. The couple mysterously doesn’t return so Greg and Sandy go off in search for the missing lover and their feathered hair. They eventually find them strung up in an old water shed along with the puss filled hunters and gooey camp scout trooper. High tailing it out there as fast as their wood-paneled van can carry them and wiping off aliens on their windshield along the way, they stop at a redneck bar for some help. The bar dwellers are already used to plenty of southern tales of alien abductions and don’t believe their story but then the crazy vet Sarge (Martin Landua) starts spouting off about the impending alien invasion and in his paranoid outburst shoots the Sherriff at the door (luckily he didn’t shoot the deputy.) Taylor played by Jack “my skin is 100% real leather” Palance shows up at the bar and tells the two about his own encounter with the alien years before and thankfully leaves out any of the alien probing stories. So they all head back to the alien love shack so Taylor can try to put a shot-gun slug in the predator wanna-be and add it to his trophies of alien kills in pickle jars. Taylor gets a vomit-disc to the knee and Sandy and Greg say asta-la-vista Taylor and run away screamin’ like little girls. Fleeing down the highway they get picked up by the crazy Sarge whose stolen the dead sheriff’s Police car and believes that they’re aliens too. The guy is definitely off his prozac. They go along with his delusions just long to  escape by a quick jump into the river and hide out in someone’ abandoned  house, post foreclosure. After a nap and a light snack Sandy wakes up to find Gary has been disced to death in a barcolounger with a little alien suction disc still sucking on his face. Sandy’s so jealous, oh and there’s a horrifying bubble headed alien hanging out in the living room too. The house party is just is getting started as Taylor shows up again limping but more grizzled then ever to help Beth escape. He then takes her back to the shed, the obvious safest place to go, where’s he’s rigged up the building with dynamite for his own fireworks display and a chance to yell “ALLLIEEEEN!!!” at the top of his lungs. Hey Jack Palance won oscar, who knows why he does these things.

This movie is a great example of b-movie cult 80’s TV. The tension ramps up towards the end and having Landua and Palance both in this type of b-movie is a rare treat. Retroman Steve says check it out but watch out for flying fake vomit.

-Alien disc golf
-Windshield wiper-fu
-Cat lynchings
-David Curros in 80’s shorts (more horrifying than the alien)
-Landua looniness
-Extreme Palance grizzliness
-Kill and store watersheds
-Fanged frisbees fake vomit

rated 8.6 out of 10

as Jack Palance would say “I crap movies better than this.”

Check out the trailer from It Came without Warning

“Never fall asleep in a jacuzzi”

I remember looking forward to the arrival of the spring county fair. The crowds, the smell of the deep fried meat by-products and the eventual sugar coma I got from the elephant ears. Traveling down the row of colorful tents, the carnies would try to hussle you and you’d inevitably fall victim to spending $50 for a $2 stuff animal. Well worth the cost to impress your date with your amazing athletic ability to toss an oversized softball into a fruit basket (it really is harder than it looks.) Of course the big attraction were those crazy rides of the midway. Suspiciously held together by just a rusty bolt and a lock pin, your life hidged on the safety expertise of the greasy haired guy operating the speed dial below. You know, the guy with the two missing front teeth and bottle of Jack Daniels in his front pocket laughing maniacally as he spins you around to unconciousness. Tilt-a-hurl…the Toboggan Run to the Bathroom… all with their own blaring hard rock sound tracks. Midway rides were your quickest way to both deafness and dizziness so my favorite ride had to be the fun house. Sitting in that little two seat metal death trap that resembled those old motorcycle sidecars you’d experience the combination of dread and excitement as a chain driven track would drag you away to it’s mysterious dark world.  Warnings sprawled in dripping neon paint telling you to “turn back now before it’s too late” or “beware of vampires” as you were greated by plastic skeletons popping up via air hydraulics and creepy things dropping and buzzing from the ceilings. You’d be ducking from side to side as lumbering zombies and giant styrofoam demon heads would lurch at you as you passed by until you finally emerged back safely into the real world. Sure it wasn’t exactly blood curdling terror but it was a fun goofy ride that put a smile on your face. 

1959’s House on Haunted Hill had this same sort of campy horror charm of a funhouse ride. An eceentric millionaire Frederick Loren played by Vincent Price invites 5 strangers to stay locked in a haunted house. If they make it through the night they’ll get $10,000 each which was a pretty good chunk of change back then. His wife Annabell (Carol Ohmart) is his cold hearted back stabbing wife who suggested the idea to throw his little haunted party. Why he’d listen to someone who tried to poison him earlier in their marriage is beyond me but this is his 4th marriage so he’s probably already used to parting with his money. The greedy guests not fearful of voluntary imprisonment from a stranger arrive at the home which resembles more a roadside motor lodge  than a haunted house. There’s the quintessential hero test pilot, Lance, a fragile nerved typist, Nora, a uptight psychiatrist, Dr. Trent and Ruth whose a chain smoking gossip columnist with gambling addiction. Aren’t all gossip columninst chains smoking gamblers? Watson Pritchard The owner of the house is also in the contest. He’s a bug eyed little man whose love of alcohol can only be matched by his absolute fear of the supernatural as he constantly whines about how the ghosts in the house are going to kill them all.  As the evening festivities begin which mostly consists of a lot of scotch drinking and cigarette smoking, Fredrick gives everyone a handgun in their own limited edition collector coffin holster. Always a good idea to give paranoid drunks some loaded guns in a haunted house. What could go wrong?

 Pritchard proceeds to tell heart warming bedtime stories of how countless people were butchered in the house and pieces were found everywhere except the heads. I sometimes can’t find my car keys so I could see how that could happen. Curiousity gets the best of Nora and Lance as they start snooping around the basement where they encounter dead flattened rats, an in-ground swimming pool of acid and a creepy old witch who glides around on roller skates. They return to their rooms only to find that Annabell supposedly committed suicide swinging from the rafters like a pinata. Later on she makes a cameo outside Nora’s window performing her vegas magic show of levitation and rope tricks. Ceilings start dripping blood, severed heads start popping up in closets and people get accidentally shot. It’s just another typical typical night in L.A. There’s a few interesting plot twist along the way but the movie degrades down into a kill by the numbers murder mystery. It’s capped off with a dissapointing ending that makes you feel like you were told you’d be getting a free dessert after a good meal only to find out they ran out of pie and it was closing time.

Whether House on Haunted Hill deserved its status as a frightful cult classic by today’s standards is debatable but for the time it was a campy funhouse style film that used some great gimmicks both on and off screen to give it’s audiences a few good jumps. The director, Mr. Castle was known for doing this sort of schlock-o-rama movie liked rigging electrical buzzers to the theater chairs for a nice jolt during “The Tingler” or in the case of “House on Haunted Hill”  had plastic skeletons on wires to float mysteriously above the audience during the humorous walking skeleton scene coining the term emote-o-rama. Special nominations go to Elisha Cook Jr.  who plays the house owners for uttering the obvious lines ”These guns are no good against the dead, only the living”  and to the immortal Vince Price who had such great lines as “Remember the fun we had when you poisioned me?” Vince you were a fine wine in a horror film surrounded by cheese. You will be missed.

-Squished rats
-Blood oozing ceilings
-Gratutious scotch drinking
-Disembodied floating head monologues
-Creepy witches on rollerskates
-Head-in-a-box surprise
-Coffin gun holsters
-Gold diggin’ pinatas
-Acid bone cleaner
-Skeleton puppet shows

rated 7.6 out of 10

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Check out the trailer for House on Haunted Hill

“Well, she warned Horace to stop staring at her chest”

Once again, Wes fails to impress with his 1989 Nightmare on Elm Street knock-off called “Shocker.”

While showing off some Deon Sanders style moves during football practice, future Heisman trophy winner Jonathan Parker hits his head on a goal post harder than a K.O. punch from Mike Tyson and suddenly without any explanation at all becomes a crime-solving clairvoyant. Could it be one of those famous Craven plot holes? Or, maybe Jonboy suffered temporary amnesia after hitting his head… Anyway, Jonathan uses a kind of psychic GPS in his dreams to track down and help catch a serial killer who’s been eluding the entire police department in his hometown.

Later that evening, Horace arrives at the “big house” for the prison BBQ they’re having in his honor the next morning. Man, that was fast. No trial, no courthouse hearing or any kind of legal proceedings… Even suspected witches in Salem got a trial. And we all know how those witch trials usually turned out ( the ol’ burned at the stake routine), but at least they got a trial. Well, time is running out for Pinker just like retail chain Circuit City and he better do something fast before he becomes fuel for that big furnace down below because he sure isn’t visiting that big antenna in the sky. So, Horace does what any Death Row inmate who’s about to be executed would do, he decides to catch up on his soaps which seems harmless enough, right? However, when the prison guards arrive to escort Horace to his date with death they see him getting the shock of his life from a television set. Could it be a Poltergeist from the netherworld who got angry after finding out he really wasn’t Carol Anne? Is it a possible suicide attempt? Or, did he get caught stealing cable from cable provider Comcraptic? Hey, wait a second… Why is he kneeling in front of what appears to be a makeshift altar with buring candles and several open books scattered on the floor? Hmmm… I’m not really sure what’s going on here, but something doesn’t seem right.

So, after finishing up his farewell tour and grabbing a quick bite to eat (two fingers and a lip) from the guards, Horace gets strapped in and prepares for ignition. And just as the festivities are about to get under way, Pinker reveals a truly shocking revelation like something from one of his favorite daytime soaps. That he is…”Dun, da, Dun” Jonathan’s father. Sadly, though the heart-warming reunion doesn’t last very long as the executioner pulls the lever and Horace rides the lightning which causes his body to convulse like a bobble head figure sitting on a rodeo bull during an earthquake. Not surprisingly, in true horror movie fashion it appears that the execution attempt has failed after only a few seconds. Immediately, the prison doctor goes to check his vital signs. Little does she know that Horace was only warming up and is about to do his own version of Shock n’ Awe. He quickly knocks the doc out and then vanishes under a shocktacular cover of electrical flashes and thick smoke like a ninja who has watched one too many David Copperfield television specials. But, before you can say free jelly doughnuts, every available law enforcement officer at the prison charges into the execution chamber room looking for the deep-fried demon. When Pinker is finally discovered, he bursts into flames and leaves behind an extra crispy meat suit in a scene that’ll remind you of Freddy’s exit at the end of Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge. Apparently, hothead Horace couldn’t handle being in the hot seat.

Thanks to some black magic shenanigans via a telecast from the Darkside, Pinker has returned from the dead after a short commercial break. Now, you didn’t really think that Horace was using those candles and books for aromatherapy or mediation, did you? We soon find out that during the confusion of the botched execution, Horace possessed the injured prison doctor and left the “Slammer” undetected as she was put in the back of a police car and taken to a hospital for treatment. While chilling out in the doc’s body and recharging his batteries, Pinker/Doc suddenly lurches forward, killing the other officer who’s riding shotgun, and then forces Officer Pastori to crash into a fuel tanker which causes a huge Michael Bay style explosion that nearly knocked me out of my seat. Fortunately, it doesn’t take long for emergency and law enforcement personnel on the scene to find Pastori alive, not too far away from the smoldering wreckage. Amazingly, he has sustained very little physical damage to his body, not even a flash burn. It’s a good thing that he remembered to put on his fire retardant gel that morning before leaving for work because you never know when an electrically charged up psycho is going to take over your body and crash the car your driving into a tanker filled with flammable fuel. Soon, the movie short-circuits into supernatural silliness as Pinker body-jacks (an idea he got after watching the Hidden) bodies left and right in his quest to re-connect with Jonathan and make up for all of those missed birthdays and holidays. Will Father and Son meet again? To be continued…

Well, I would be “Sleepless on Lost Highway” if I left you guys and gals with a cliffhanger like that. So, here it is… Father Horace and Son Jonathan do reunite for a final time in a clever EFX sequence that has them battling it out WWE style (but I won’t say who gets canceled) as they channel surf through old television reruns that plays like a kid with ADD who got their hands on a TV remote after drinking a six pack of Jolt Cola. And while this TV Land action spectacle won’t make your heart race with suspense, it will give you a good laugh, and showed that Wes did have a brief creative spark during the filming process. The rest of the visual effects are so bad that if the effects saw their own reflections, they would immediately pull the plug on themselves. Also, don’t expect any scares in this one. The only way you would jump during any part of this movie is if you accidentally sat on a “live wire.”

And since Craven doesn’t give us any memorable screen exits or T & A, (not even a pair of perky nipples poking through a t-shirt) the best part of this movie is without a doubt the soundtrack that has bands like Megadeth who do a respectable cover of Alice Cooper’s rock classic, “No More Mr. Nice Guy. So, if you’re a fan of music from the 80’s seek out a copy of this high voltage, bang your head until snaps off soundtrack. If you want to see Craven when his movies were a nightmare scarier or a scream louder than the competition, then check out horror gems like “Last House on the Left”, “The Hills Have Eyes”(original) or his mainstream horror classic “A Nightmare on Elm Street.”

In the end Wes just carried too much cinematic baggage from his earlier efforts into this production which prevented Shocker from being it’s own movie.

- 1 Seriously wet dream
- 1 Plug n’ Slay serial killer
- 1 Mother and Daughter demonic possession
- 1 Foul-mouthed kid
- 2 Kicks in the gnads
- 1 Botched execution

- 1 Power of love punch
- 1 Faked heart attack

Rated 2.0 out of 10

Check out the trailer for Shocker

“I can put my whole fist in my mouth. That’s how much I love you.”

 I used to do a lot of sketching back in junior high, since I had plenty of a thing they call “free time.” Mostly I’d draw zombies chasing cheerleaders or aliens with three boobs vaporizing gym teachers with their brain explodo-rays, but occasionally I’d like to draw cars of the future. I’d draw cool prototypes that would push the boundaries of car aerodynamics and practicality to whole new levels, all in my preparation for my inevitable GM takeover. I’d spend hours sketching my plans: I had a vehicle with built-in hover tires a la “Back to the Future”, so when traffic was heavy you could fly to the nearest 7-11; a big wing spoiler for fast getaways from the fuzz; and integrated side-view mirrors that the designers of the Ford Probe ripped-off from me before I could patent them.  It could also do 0-60 mph in three seconds, travel through time, and ran on a combo of vegetable oil and Diet Dr. Pepper. I haven’t gotten that vice president position at GM yet, but wait until someone “accidentally” electrocutes themselves on one these alien technology Chevy Volts. Then they’ll be breaking out the cans of Diet Dr. Pepper!  Electric cars–oh please. That’s so 1950’s. I think bigger. Cars that will cook your meals and give you full body massages; cars that display an LED middle finger to the guy tailgating you; or even hover cars for your pets!  Then my era of tyranny will begin (mad scientist laughter)!  In the meantime, maybe I’ll just do some mug sketches at the police station, or better yet, court room drawings. I bet those guys are pulling in some major bank.

In the movie “The Wraith” we get to see a prototype car brought to life from the kings of two-star crash test rating, Chrysler. Don’t worry, Chrysler lawyer guys, I haven’t found my old transformer sketchpad yet, so I can’t prove you stole my ideas. However, if you happen to leave a Dodge Viper in my garage, we can just call it even. Charlie Sheen plays 

Jake, the avenging spirit of a young man named James who was killed a few years earlier by the town’s one and only car racing, chop-shopping punk-rockin’ gang. Packard is their leader, who stabbed James when he caught him getting naked with his girlfriend, Keri. Perhaps Packard just saw the show “Two and a Half Men”, and that drove him to fits of homicidal rage.  Jake’s/James’ revenge weapon of choice is a Chrysler Interceptor prototype, except this car doesn’t run on unleaded–it runs on soul-sucking, netherworld power. It’s also indestructible and leaves its victims without their eyeballs and with a severe case of albinism.

Two of Packard’s gang members, Skank and Gutterboy (named that because their mommas didn’t liked them), and a Jimmy Neutron hair stylin’ Clint Howard are told to keep tabs on Keri, who’s been hanging out a lot lately with Jake since he stalked her at the quarry. When does Jake find the time for romance and quarry haunting with all the killing he has to get done? Gang members are picked-off one by one in various car races on the back roads near town, where the loser earns a head-on collision with the Interceptor in a fiery death of twisted metal. Yet each subsequent driver always feels like this time he’ll be the lucky winner and not end up engulfed in a ball of flames as his soul is siphoned off for the Wraith’s soul engine. The only thing that can stop the revenge Sheen-spree is Randy Quaid, the local inept law enforcement officer, and when he’s not spouting redneck Haikus, he’s roughing-up punk teens and trying to play catch-up to the death-mobile.  

Packard has become more and more irritable as his gang membership dues are dwindling, so he kidnaps Keri, who unfortunately picked  the worst time to grow a spine and stand up to him with harsh words about his manhood and choice of hair gels.  Before Packard can man-handle Keri, the wraith car shows up for one final big race.  It kills Packard, and then James or Jake leaves the killer car with his brother, so he can drive off into the sunset with Keri on his unholy dirt bike. ”Thanks, bro, for leaving me the car that every cop in the county is looking for.”

“Hey, it’s hos before the bros.” - Charlie Sheen

A great late-night 80’s sci-fi classic that used to play endlessly on TNT before Ted Turner went stone-cold bonkers.  While not on par with classics like “Gone in 60 Seconds” or “Vanishing Point”, it’s still a Charlie Sheen-tastic movie.  However, the real star of the show–in my opinion–is the cool-as-ice Dodge Interceptor.  I bet Charlie never thought he’d get out-acted by a car. I bet Charlie’s mom never thought he would act.

Roadside Attractions

-roller derby hooter girls
-fuel sipping punk rockers
-automobile shot put
-Randy Quaid-o-rama
-glowing leg braces
-Sheen-tastical stunts
-5 car explosions
-1 motorcycle chase
-redneck hot tubbing
-quarry beach sunbathing
-Chrysler teleportor/Onstar upgrade 

rated 9.1 out of 10 for the movie

“Can your drug-fried brain handle that, maggot?  Or have you been too busy pulling your insignificant pud to pay attention?”

Randy Quaid, your words are like golden nuggets of wisdom from heaven.  Little known fact, Randy Quaid also runs on a combo of vegetable oil and Diet Dr. Pepper.

Check out the trailer for The Wraith

“Ho-ho… Uh-oh. Santa’s coming to town for a holiday chopping spree.”

As a young boy I remember the response to the “Silent Night, Deadly Night” ads displayed in my local grocery store’s video section. Parents quickly covered their kids’ eyes, complaints were made to the on-duty store manager, and little old ladies gave their pacemakers a Sweatin’ to the Oldies-like workout after seeing the movie poster, which showed Santa’s darker side.

Based on Paul Caimi’s popular college writing assignment entitled “He Sees You When You’re Sleeping”, this blood-covered gift of Yuletide terror was directed by filmmaker Charles E. Sellier, Jr., who is known for his religious documentaries, and also created the lovable mountain man on the lam, Grizzly Adams.

On his family’s way back home from a fun-filled evening at the looney bin, Billy suddenly comes down with a very bad case of Santaphobia, thanks to Gramps. While Billy is left to senior-sit his supposedly comatose grandfather, the crazy geezer briefly snaps out of freeze frame mode, and tells the young lad a Brothers Grimm-style tale about a vengeful Santa who collects bounties on the naughty. This warps Billy’s little mind faster than a Federation starship escaping a Klingon Bird of Prey. Soon, what seemed like the harmless ranting of a bitter and mentally unstable man, becomes terrifying reality when Dad (Jim), ever the good Samaritan, stops to help someone who appears to be the jolly ol’ elf himself. Now, wait a second. I know for a fact that Santa doesn’t drive his red car or anything with wheels while on duty. How do I know this? Well, it’s part of his Santa Employment Clause. So, where are his sleigh and reindeer? Also, this guy is able to fit his robust frame down small openings with ease, can deliver presents to children across the world in record time by using a sprinkle of X-mas magic, but we’re to believe he can’t get his car started? Even an elderly person with cataracts in a dust storm at night could see that this guy isn’t the real McCoy. I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this. And by the time Dad gets a clue from the Clue Fairy, he finds himself on the wrong end of a loaded gun held by a crazed maniac, and by then it’s already too late for him and Mom. Well, at least he’ll be spared from opening another gaudy necktie, and she won’t have to look at another crappy, handmade dried macaroni X-mas wreath.

A valuable life lesson has been learned here: If you have an overwhelming desire to be a “do- gooder” around the holidays, make sure you’re in a public place with lots of people. For example, try volunteering at a soup kitchen, collect Toys for Tots, or participate in a food drive. But whatever you do, don’t stop for any strangers wearing Santa gear at night on X-mas Eve, especially on dark, abandoned sections of highway, because they are most likely killer nutjobs who are a few ornaments short of a fully decorated X-mas tree. And if it turns out you snubbed the real Santa, no big deal. The worst thing that’ll happen is you’ll probably be put on his naughty list for a year, and find a few lumps of coal in your stocking come X-mas morning, but at least you won’t be sporting a body bag.

Just when you think young Billy hasn’t been traumatized enough after he witnessed Anti-Claus brutally murder both of his parents, things go from bad to worse when he lands in a Catholic orphanage run by Mother Inferior, whose disciplinary methods are approved by the Medieval Punishment Association of America (the MPAA for short). When she isn’t punishing unique artistic expression like a heart-warming depiction of holiday carnage, or tying little boys to bed posts S&M style, she keeps would-be fornicators and young Billy in line with her trusty sidekick, a leather belt I like to call the “Holy Enforcer.”

After surviving his cruel sentence at the orphanage, a physically and emotionally scarred, but otherwise happy-go-lucky adult Billy leaves to pursue a lifelong dream of working in the wonderfully rewarding world of retail. In no time he scores a sweet position at the local hot spot, Ira’s Toys, which also doubles as a storage facility for leftover seasonal stock. The place is so run-down that I wouldn’t feel safe keeping empty boxes there. Even the roaches have picket signs. But, hey, everybody has to get their start somewhere. Gandhi didn’t just wake up one morning with millions of followers. Eager to please his new boss, Billy immediately mastered the fine art of stocking boxes, became a pro at punching a timecard, and showed off some mad skills with a box cutter. His future at Ira’s Toys looked as bright as Rudolf’s red nose, aside from that close call involving a smiling Santa decoration, which almost caused his psyche to unravel like a cat playing with a ball of yarn. Everything after that was really going well for the star employee, until he got promoted to store Santa. To be honest, the only reason why he got the promotion is because Mr. Simms (the dork who owns the store) had a last-minute “no show”, and needed to find a quick replacement. Later that night at the store’s X-mas party, everybody was enjoying themselves until, without warning, the holiday cheer quickly turned into holiday fear, as Billy became the Yuletide Avenger and declared open season on the “naughty.”

Most of the holiday-themed murders look very ordinary when viewed with the same eyes that saw the shower scene from “Psycho” or the prom massacre in “Carrie”, though there are still some screen exits worth mentioning. An example is the humorous death of what has to be the wimpiest door in cinematic history, which was waving a white flag after getting hit with Maniac Santa’s first ax blow. The Big Bad Wolf with half a lung and advanced emphysema could blow this door clear off its hinges without any problem. Next we have veteran scream queen extraordinaire, Linnea Quigley, showing off her boobtacular trophies before succumbing to rack-on-rack violence. Another really cool kill involves a middle-aged loser who steals a toboggan and becomes “the headless hoodlum” during a late-night joyride down a hill. Lastly, we have Officer Barnes, who gets a mid-dissection via an ax to the gut, and then takes more tumbles than a load of wet clothes in a dryer down a staircase. Unfortunately, like the door, the victims in the film don’t put up much of a fight, either. They’re not paralyzed with fear, just bad writing and directing.

While “Silent Night, Deadly Night” may not be the best entry in the holiday horror sub-genre, it isn’t the worst one, either. That distinction (which is nothing to be proud of) goes to its sibling sequel, “Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2.” So, start off the holiday season a little bit early this year by checking out this bah-humbug slasher with a glass of milk and cookies, and get in touch with your inner Scrooge.

Roadside Attractions

- Picturesque mountains of Utah
- Selection of heart-warming, but out of place X-mas songs
- Billy wearing an Obi Wan Kenobi robe
- Frosty the Headless Snowman
- Ira’s Toys named after producer Ira Barmak
- Various Halloween costumes
- Moon Goon
- Textbook left hook
- 80’s edition Mr. Potato Head
- Rapid fire flashbacks that may induce seizures
- Double-handed, competition style ax throw
- Babe kabob without the grill
- A killer ending

Rated 7.0 out of 10

Check out the trailer for Silent Night, Deadly Night

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“I don’t need a seat belt. I have my own built in air bags.”

Before there was the king of late night b-movies, Joe Bob Briggs, there was the hostess with the mostess, the queen of scream, the mistress of the dark, Elvira. Her sarcastic wit and b-movie knowledge was only overshadowed by her huge kuzungas (not sure about the spelling on this one!). Being the Joe Bob fanboy that I am, I still must admit that Elvira is much easier on the eyes than a Texan good ol’ boy in a bolo tie, so I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Elvira had her own self-titled comedy back in the late 80’s. She certainly had the best double features in film history, so it only made sense to bring them to the silver screen in “Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.”

Cassandra Peterson plays the Mistress of the Dark, and if you passed Cassandra on the street, you’d never know it was Elvira’s alter-ego, as they’ve caked on so much Goth makeup it wouldn’t surprise me if Marilyn Manson was actually an impish database programmer from Milwaukee. Elvira is fired from her TV show one day when her Texan good ol’ boy boss tries to “manage her assets.” Elvira’s response is to clock him one. Soon after she learns that a long-lost aunt has died and left her an inheritance. Elvira sees dollar signs and hopes she can use the inheritance and make a new start in Vegas as a sleazy showgirl. Not exactly movin’ on up but every girl has got a dream. She heads across the country in her black “vampmobile” to Massachusetts–apparently where all the rich aunts go to die–but is considered a freak by most of the local townsfolk… Well, except every man and teenage boy within the city limits (even the ones flying over in planes are gawking).

The inheritance turns out to be an old run-down mansion that the Munsters would have proudly called their summer vacation home, so Elvira enlists the help of  some peeping-tom teens to help fix it up Bob Villa-style (only with more cleavage), and hopes to sell it to some poor schmuk  with poor eyesight. Elvira’s surviving uncle, Vincent, turns out to be a rookie warlock whose intent is to steal an ancient recipe book that’s been hidden there, so he can rule the world (or in his case, become even more British…either way it’s concentrated evil). How does a recipe book gives you evil powers, anyway?  Can a properly seasoned meatloaf control the fate of humanity? That might explain Betty Crocker’s rise to power.

To pass the time waiting for a buyer, Elvira puts on a b-movie/flash dance show at the local theater that ends with her getting tarred and feathered. She also laces a casserole for the town picnic with an aphrodisiac potion, and makes a dinner that nearly eats her new boyfriend, Flint McThickneck. He’s a big, burly fellow in plaid, straight from the Brawny paper towel ads, and has about the same amount of acting ability. But he does seem able to stumble through his lines well enough while staring at Elvira’s chest, so I give him points for that skill.

The townsfolk decide they’ve had enough of Elvira’s shenanigans at that Point, so they tie her to a stake in the Town Square for a good old community witch roasting–minus the potato salad. Using her super power decoder ring given to her as a baby, Elvira narrowly escapes under the cover of rain to do battle with the evil warlock, Vincent, and to retrieve the recipe book and make some delicious oatmeal cookies…of EVIL!!!!!! EVIL!!!!! Will Elvira’s huge knockers save humanity? Will her French poodle ever live-down the humiliation of having a haircut like Billy Idol? Will the British ever stop sounding pompous? Find out for yourself in “Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.” Retroman says check it out, but watch out for spinning tassels, and always wear eye protection.

Keep an eye out for...

- Exploding gas stations
- Baby Avon callings
- Punk rockin’ poodles and mice, oh my
- Exxon sponsored flash dancing
- Demon spiced stew
- Cooking-obsessed warlocks
- Moral Club picnic orgies
- Casserole Viagra
- Community witch roasts
- Rambo-vira (she’s bringing out the big guns)

“Giddy Up Oom Poppa Omm Poppa Mow Mow, Elvira” - Alabama

rated 8.3 out of 10 for the movie

Check out the trailer for Elvira, Mistress of the Dark