…I’m not exaggerating at all when I say that if Alexandro Jodorowsky started out with nothing but a hi-8 video camera and a few sympathetic buddies, his first effort would look just like this. Who knows just what strange inspiration drove Schneider to create this absorbing atrocity exhibition? I see the influence of death metal (the title, for one), Dario Argento, “Panorama of Hell”, David Lynch, rock and roll decadence (just like Marilyn Manson’s guitarist, Jeffrey likes to, uh…eat his own), Throbbing Gristle, Coffin Joe, Nick Zedd, and JG Ballard, but that’s all just conjecture. All I know for sure is that this magnum opus is an engrossing, enthralling, complete motherfucker of a film, and Schneider’s either got a long and intense career as America’s new favorite outlaw filmmaker or a self-inflicted gunshot wound ahead of him.
i'd like to extend my congrats on your evolution through the years. your newest records are easily light-years ahead of your early stuff. but for the love of music... you must fire your fucking singers.
Daughters; it's great that you've evolved beyond your smart-ass screamo days and are now doing music more meaty, heady, and substantial.... but that candy-ass psychobilly singer needs his throat sliced in half, for the sound of a slit windpipe spraying blood everywhere is infinitely more in tune with your stylings than the friggin DREAD ZEPPELIN nonsense that's dragging you down.
Ion Dissonance; just tell this guy to shut the fuck up and let your admittedly interesting take on the tech-metalcore genre breathe. you've got the chops and the hooks, but your one-note jock-itch brocalist is smothering it with his flat delivery and freshman poetry.
i know interesting singers are rare in hardcore/metal, but it's frustrating when you know good bands are being bogged down by conceptually deficient idiots who are less interested in listening to what their band mates are doing and crafting their vocals/ideas thusly than they are going off on ego-feeding physical/mental tangents. it's hard to avoid sometimes i understand (being a vocalist/lyricist myself)... but i try my best. not sure if i succeed, but that's life.
Terry Hawkins, played by Watkins, has just been released from spending a year in state prison on drug charges. He wants to get into filmmaking, and claims he previously made pornographic films that he was unable to sell.
Hawkins believes audiences want something more, so he decides to make snuff films. Victims are lured to an abandoned building. There they are murdered in elaborate ways for the films, including by decapitation or receiving a power drill to the head. Hawkins is complimented on how realistic his films look.
The narration ultimately informs viewers that the film crew was arrested and sentenced to prison.
For those that grew up in the 80’s on a steady diet of horror film franchises, most of which featured arguably the most iconic looking movie maniacs since the classic Universal monsters era, there’s always been that morbid curiosity to uncover all the behind-the-scenes inner workings of those indelible pictures. With retrospective documentaries already out there on Halloween (25 Years Of Terror), Friday The 13th (His Name Was Jason) and with Never Sleep Again, (the A Nightmare On Elm Street doc) not to mention The Psycho Legacy both on the horizon, it’s a pretty good time to be a genre fan.
Freddy, Jason, Michael Myers, Norman Bates… they’re all covered. So it was only a matter of time before Pinhead got the extensive and exhaustive profile treatment as well. At the helm of Unearthed: The Hellraiser Saga is director Stefan Hutchinson (whom recently scripted original comic stories for both Day Of The Dead and Halloween), with Ryan “Rotten” Turek (managing editor over at Shock Till You Drop.com) writing and Anthony Masi serving as producer. Much to the delight of Hellraiser fans, Clive Barker will also be involved with the production by creating a brand new cenobite for the documentary.
blue-green scab on my ankle shaped like the abdomen of a stag beetle. a mosquito bite grows and pops out until it looks like a tack has been driven into my leg. a spider seems like it is pointing at me, stretching its legs like Plastic Man towards my finger, which is trying to crush it out of existence.
Fans of Richard Stanley rejoice. The iconic - but far from prolific - director of Dust Devil and Hardware is currently in production on Mother Of Toads, his entry in upcoming horror anthology project The Theatre Bizarre.
Co-produced by Severin Films and Metaluna productions, The Theatre Bizarre gathers a sextet of cult horror directors with Richard Stanley out of the gate first but soon to be followed by Douglas Buck, Karim Hussein (SUBCONSCIOUS CRUELTY!!), Buddy Giovinazzo (COMBAT SHOCK!!), David Gregory and Tom Savini (THE ONLY EPISODE OF TALES FROM THE DARKSIDE THAT MATTERS!!). All six were handed identical budgets and the promise of total creative freedom provided they turn in a short between ten and twenty minutes long inspired by Grand Guignol.
Stanley's entry went before cameras last week and the first images will be appearing on Twitch shortly.
After falling and cutting her leg severely at a party, Esther becomes obsessed with the lack of pain she experienced. She begins inflicting wounds in the area where she was originally hurt and slowly becomes obsessed with the touch and taste of her own skin.
you know what? i hope these butt-jesters win on Election day, just so we can watch their spectacular crash-and-burn when they actually have to do something about their problems beyond waving Kentucky Fried McGreese-stained signs in front of one another, waxing their extra-chromosomes about Glen Beck inspired alternate realities.
some of you people are seriously a bunch of fucking babies (no pun intended hyuk hyuk hyuk). Yeah, it's a mega-graphic sub-perverse angry fever-rape of a film, but snap the fuck out of it with the drama. in short; i loved it, even with the SCREENER crap everywhere. Love how progressively nightmarish it gets both in terms of the violence/sex as well as in the structure of the narrative, pacing of the direction, and the performances themselves. this is the film Murder Set Pieces wishes it could be.
BLACK SUN: THE NANKING MASSACRE - 9/10
from the maker of Men Behind the Sun. i'm calling "Bayonet Cesarean" as a song title.
NUIT NOIRE - 9/10
beautiful, eerie; the kind of pure dream logistics i can't get enough of. every frame is a work of art.
SPLATTER: NAKED BLOOD - 8/10
a Suehiro painting brought to life. a must have for viscera nymphos.
THE HOWL - 9/10
see what i said about Nuit Noire. plus no one films beautiful women quite like Tinto Brass.
THE KILLER INSIDE ME - 8/10
another one that everyone had a period over. maybe it's just cause i'm sort of into "rough sex" both on a visual level and on a what-i'd-rather-be-doing-at-all-time-instead-of-this-bullshit level, so a little spanking and BCP really doesn't phase me... but it is totally hot. a nice lurid little pulp thriller with solid performances from anyone not named Jessica Alba (seriously... this bitch can't even be beaten to hamburger convincingly). I'll take Kate Hudson in this one, kthcbi.
GESTAPO'S LAST ORGY aka CALIGULA REINCARNATED AS HITLER - 9.5/10
too much "FAP" for one hand. easily the best of the Nazi Exploitation genre.
THE GARBAGE PAIL KIDS MOVIE: THE MOVIE - god i/s dead
if anything reaffirms atheism, it is the existence of THIS;
Obamama should use this track on the campaign trail, but i digress.
if you speculate long enough on why this movie was made, you may vomit lungs... and not your own. it's simply horrifying; creepily sub-decent in a manner even Peter Sotos wouldn't dare breach. it makes Troll 2 look like the Cohen Bros. at their zenith. fuck, at least there were no sing-a-longs in Nilbog.
THE BRUTAL HOPELESSNESS OF LOVE - 8.5/10
the sexiest Asian bug-fuck since a Snake of June. why can't we make intelligent films about sex in this country? oh i forgot, we're a bunch of giggling middle schoolers in a locker room. speaking of which...
ROB ZOMBIE'S HALLOWEEN 2 - less than nothing / even less than nothing
totally fucking stupid on every imaginable and unimaginable level. completely murders the mythology for no discernible reason. piss-weak plot, tacky use of pop music, nonsensical props and costumes that service Zombie's interests rather than the characters (something tells me Laurie Strode, a girl who was STALKED BY A MURDERER, would not have a Charles Manson poster adorning the wall above her bed). fuck, you know this already. i wouldn't even dip my balls in it.
continuing on a similar path;
A REMAKE ON ELM STREET - even less than nothing / even less than less than nothing
crikey... none of this shit works at all. a profoundly abysmal script, muggy directing/cinematography, zero scares, zero fun, sub-memorable (yeah i like putting "sub-" in front of adjectives. deal with it), and bottom line; makes no fucking sense whatsover. none of the actors are convincing, especially Jakie Earle Haley; a fucking awful Krueger that possesses none of the sadistic menace or macabre playfulness that Englund brought to the role even in the franchise's silliest moments. but fucking hell... i'll take the New Nightmares and the "Final" Nightmares and the Dream Nightmares over this tampon cutter. shit, i'll take the 976-Evils over this pube-woven cock basket. also again they should've used this song. i know i already posted this in the previous entry, but it's just such an amazingly excellent idea that it bears repeating. and not some queer-ass ironic cover by some douchebag hipster band, only Gibson is real.
oh and anyone who bought those action figures is a fucking asshole.
apparently there is a Hellraier NINE (gtfo) being released. not the remake, but another DTDVD sequel. it started filming like two weeks ago, and should be out by the time this is posted. this laugh.
I'm guessing between the 8th film and this one, Pinhead opened a Cenobite College ala Krusty the Klown, training new Pinheads. now that's a movie i'd watch.
The rookie journalist Vivian seeks Frederick, the caretaker of the oldest cemetery in an undefined country, asking for an interview and the old man tells the story of two "costumers" and both connected by a mysterious secret. The powerful gangster Jimmie Levinson accuses his former partner Paul Pattuchi of stealing a load of cocaine and orders to kill his beloved girlfriend Clarice. Paul is found dead later in a cottage, and Jimmie and his friends and girlfriends are visited during a dinner party by Robert Downing first and then by the sadistic Mortimer and his partner Rick seeking the truth about Paul and a suitcase with a mysterious relic. The second story takes place in the Middle Ages, where the cruel David Deming and his minion Tom Brewster chase the renegade priest James Flynn in the name of the Inquisition but actually trying to force him to reveal the secret of the Eternal Heart to grant immortality.
In a genre defined by shocking violence and psychosexual kink, it remains perhaps the most over-the-top 'giallo' in EuroCult history: Former MGM starlet and doomed James Dean paramour Pier Angeli -- two decades past her Golden Globe award for 'Most Promising Newcomer' and just one year before her tragic death -- stars in this ultra-lurid epic packed with decapitations, pet vultures, creepy incest, groovy fashions, cyanide baths, swirly psychedelics, inexplicable plot twists, Nazi death camp flashbacks and more. Eleonora Rossi Drago (Camille 2000), Fernando Sancho (Return Of The Blind Dead) and Luciano Catenacci (Kill, Baby Kill!) co-star in the 1970 sickie that would make Freud himself scream in horror, now fully restored from the original Italian vault elements.
Mom, Boyfriend Sentenced to Jail for Taping Toddler to Wall Two teenagers were sentenced to jail after duct-taping a 22-month-old child to the wall. The pictures—here with the child's face obscured—show him stuck to the wall at uncomfortable angles and with tape directly on his bare skin.
The mother, Jayla Hamm, 18, was sentence to 10 days in jail and two years' probation, while her boyfriend, 19-year-old Corde Honea, received a sentence of 36 to 60 months in prison—as well as separate sentences for burglary and possession of a firearm.
Besides taping the kid, Hamm and Honea taped his favorite sippy cup to the wall just out of his reach. They also appear to have taped his fists closed. The police say they were high; either way, their expressions in the photos don't reflect people who quite understand that two-year-olds are not toys. (The boy's expression, which you can't see, was described by the prosecuting attorney as "terrified.")
The abuse came to light when Hamm—"momma hamm" on MySpace, where her mood is "depressed" (I'll bet)—showed the photos to a friend, who had the good sense to tell police. The kid will stay with his mother under state supervision.
