Tuesday, October 26, 2010

We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 167

My Crepitus


Starring: Eric James, Tom Colbert, Julie Hicks

Writer & Director: Michael T. Schneider

"I wanted a mission. And so, my sins gave me one." - Apocalypse Now

Bloody Fun Pictures

Lurking on the shelves, amongst the top low-budget horror entries ever to be found, you may summon up the most raw footage ever displayed. Filmed outside Pittsburgh PA, director Michael Schneider blends in his cauldron a concoction of home effects of a frail man dying of his own cerebral deterioration. Gore has yet to be imposed, in a full feature length, for the 20 minutes of rambled footage spliced together is a pungent picture, extended into an 90 minute movie. Puzzling enough, one may never piece together it’s plot, but, oddly enough, it is a practice of a student project George Romero himself, could never claim. Coincidentally enough, it was produced in the same year as Night of the Living Dead, yet many have never even heard of him, or it. Most peculiar of all, both men originated from Steeltown, PA. Were they some doppelganger destined to stay detached, perhaps? It’s unexplainable, to say the least. My Crepitus, made for the emotionally dead, is an exercise of random thoughts rendering a psyche- crazed mental patient skulking on his last limbs. Nor a zombie or a man, Eric James plays a demon out of this land.

-Smutstrutter


Sleazegrinder heaps on their own praise:

…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.



Sunday, October 24, 2010

Not that I'm Bitter or Anything vol. 8

a memo to DAUGHTERS and ION DISSONANCE ;

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.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Horror Movie Trailer for the Week of 10/24/10

before A SERBIAN FILM, there was:

The Last House on Dead End Street (1977)

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.



We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 166

Exclusive: First Word on 'Unearthed: The Hellraiser Saga'

Thu., Apr. 29, 2010 9:32 AM PDT , by Robg
Hellraiser

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.



click the headline for the full interview.

Brainmares vol. 14

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.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 165

wow... looks like they might actually have something filmed;

Richard Stanley Returns To Horror With MOTHER OF TOADS

by Todd Brown, October 19, 2010 12:08 AM

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.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Horror Movie Trailer for the Week of 10/17/10

IN MY SKIN (2002)

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.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Awwww Yeah vol. 15



KFC pays college women for ad space on buns

...... still not gonna ever eat a fucking Double Down, but i can't fault them for giving it the old "college" try.

uuuhhh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh

....UUUUUHHHH hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyughhyugh hyughhyughhyughhyugh

U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 49


More Tea Party Hilarity


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.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

We are the Sprocket Holes vol. 163

Micro-Reviews;



A SERBIAN FILM aka BABY'S DAY OUT 2 - 10/10:

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.

Not that I'm Bitter or Anything vol. 7 (whats in the baahhhhhhx?)



it's like this song was made for this moment.

ps; how did they NOT use that song in that inverted rectum of a Nightmare on Elm St. remake? hoo doggies i'm full of ideas today.

LOCRIAN is my new favorite band. love music that simulates drowning in mud at 2am. and i seriously want this book

MyFace Link Round-up;

you gotta fight for your right to mock dying women and children + comment

that's enough, Rivers Cuomo

raddest thing EVER

‎"The movie version centers on an introverted, 11-year-old boy who
befriends an injured dolphin who lost her tail in a crab trap. Through
their bond and friendship, the boy motivates everyone around him to
help save the dolphin by creating a prosthetic appendage. The mammal’s
strong survival instincts become an inspiration ...to people with special
needs."



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.

and no... Doug Bradely isn't playing Pinhead.

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.

here come Micro-Reviews.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Fuck YOUR Life vol. 12


‘Tardpocalypse Now: 7 figures for the rights to a Family Circus movie


The only conceivable way anyone will sit through this insufferable bowel conduit of a film is if they make it a federal crime not to see it.

seriously... this is fucking COUPON: THE MOVIE.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Horror Movie Trailer for the Week of 10/10/10

BEYOND THE LIMITS (2003)

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.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Horror Movie Trailer for the Week of 10/3/10

Nelle pieghe della carne (IN THE FOLDS OF THE FLESH) (1970)

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.

Friday, October 1, 2010

U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 48


Tea Party Coloring Book Teaches Kids That A High Tax Rate ‘Takes Away Jobs and Freedom’


there's already a tea party coloring book;

Double You, Tea F. vol. 108 on Equal Vision Records






















































































































































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.