DEAD GIRLS

deadgirlsDEAD GIRLS

1.5 Stars  1990/104m

“When rock n’ roll fantasy turns into a nightmare.”

Director: Dennis Devine / Writer: Steve Jarvis / Cast: Diana Karinkas, Angela Eads, Key Schaber, Angela Scaglione, Steven Kyle, Dierdre West, Jeff Herbick, David Chatfield, Ilene B. Singer, David Williams.

Body Count: 15

Dire-logue: “Would you please stop embarrassing him and yourself and anyone else forced to watch this revolting spectacle…”


The Dead Girls are a shiter than shite rock band who look like bargain-basement Bangles – all big hair and strappy, tight leather clothes – and yet the drummer is a guy. And this was made in 1990, after the spandex death metal revolution was done with, right? And that isn’t them on the cover, that’s just some random group of girls. Maybe they’re dead too though. The band are blamed for the suicide of a group of teenagers who listen to their songs – Nail Gun Murder and You’ve Got to Kill Yourself – and take the latter seriously. One girl survives and she happens to be the kid sister of the bands’ songwriter, Gina.

Gina decides the band needs a vacation and so they do what all 80’s horror film rock bands do: they go to a cabin in the woods. There, they are hacked up by a skull-masked looney toon who kills in accordance with the lyrics of their crappy songs. Is it the identikit retarded groundskeeper? Is it Gina’s nasty aunt and uncle, who raised kid sis and tell Gina they hope she’ll “burn in hell for this?”

Dead Girls is another slasher film where the characters act completely illogically: one victim faces off with the killer and, before he axes her, says this: “I used to be afraid of the afterlife – but not anymore!” It’s also 104 minutes long. One-hundred-and-four minutes. Sixteen minutes away from two bloody hours.

The extra half-star is for the laughs. If you can block-book a day off to watch it – advisably in shifts no longer than fifteen minutes – then it’s good for a few giggles, especially the acting skills of the “burn in hell” woman, who was quite possibly approached in a mall parking lot and asked to come and utter some lines to camera.

Vixen forever! I’ve been livin’ on the edge of a broken heart… Yeah!

Tie me backpacker down, sport

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WOLF CREEK

3.5 Stars  2005/18/95m

“How can you be found when nobody knows you’re missing?”

Director/Writer: Greg McLean / Cast: John Jarratt, Cassandra Magrath, Kestie Morassi, Nathan Phillips.

Body Count: 5


Here’s something weird; Wolf Creek is a good film which I never, ever want to see again.

Sometimes this just happens, can be that something is so effective once (Session 9; The Orphanage) that a repeat viewing will only dull its initial impact, can be that it was just a bit too heart-breaking (Brokeback Mountain) but here, despite directorial competence and the presence of actual horror, Wolf Creek is a nasty little production, quite repellent in a lot of ways and I wouldn’t want to sit through it again.

Of course there are other negative aspects to this backpackers-in-peril flick, most notably how long it takes before the travelogue beginning shifts into the horror gear (around the halfway mark). A trio of travellers, Sydney native Ben and British gal-pals Liz and Kristy, decide to drive out to Wolf Creek, a meteor crater in the middle of nowhere. Now, this film is Australian, so the middle of nowhere is quite literal. As well as Great White Sharks, Funnelweb Spiders and killer lizardy things, Australia now seems to have an abundance of psychos, for upon returning to their old car, they find it dead and, as darkness falls, macho backwoods “passer by” Mick (Jarratt) offers them a tow to his garage, where they chat affably around the campfire and then fall into a nice…deeeeeep…sleep…

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Liz later wakes to find herself bound in a shack. She escapes but stumbles upon Mick torturing Kristy and so begins the ever-cranking tension of their botched escape plans from his pit of sadism, complete with rotting corpses of previous victims.

Wolf Creek is far from your average stalker flick and while it’s not especially bloody, it’s explicitly violent and at times downright despairing as the girls suffer at the hands of the perky, wisecracking maniac – but there is little Freddy-style humour to his vicious torment.

Such is the nature of their dilemma that you do find yourself screaming at them to run faster, hurry up with the ignition keys or not do what it seems they’re about to! With just the duo the focus of the majority of the film, there are accusations a-plenty thrown at Wolf Creek for being misogynistic. It’s a difficult call to make; the film has roots in real life backpacker murderer Ivan Milat’s case, who preferred sexually assaulting girls, so there’s a real edge to it that’s uncomfortable viewing. At the same time, extended scenes of violence against the girls is grotesquely perverse and could make you feel dirty for watching it. What’s more is that Ben – out for the count for most of the film – simply wakes up and totters away to freedom at the end, oblivious to the fate of his friends and not attacked by the killer at all!

Things move from innovative to cliché once the horror is under way: The girls have ample opportunity to cut the killer’s head off at one point or shoot him, stab him, stamp on his head and instead decide to go it alone in the middle of the bush. Wolf Creek becomes the type of body count movie that thinks above its station at some points but is then unable to source a new way around a problem, the case in point being when Liz picks a random pair of car keys from a choice of a dozen or so and super magic teleporty psychic psycho Mick is already in the back seat!

This convention succeeds in some rug-yanking as things become a bit silly. Mick is able to track a single person in the huge expanse of the outback but cannot find Ben!?

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So it’s a scenically beautiful film with characters sharpened by the long, slow build; gritty and documentarian in feel but also harrowing and depressing with no comfortable resolution or confines of the standard mad slasher opus – but then that’s what horror is, right? The absence of hope – definitively, it should be horrible.

Somewhat reassuringly, McLean’s next film, Rogue, which featured a giant killer crocodile munching tourists in the outback, featured no female fatalities at all, so we can at least be sure he wasn’t going Fulci on us. I have a fair few opinions on ye olde “are slasher films hate-women flicks” debate, which I’ll find a suitable home for sometime in the future; this one cuts it fine and I wish there’d been a girl survivor to beat the shit out of Mick, but all’s (un)fair in love and homicidal rampages. Up to you.

Blurbs-of-interest: Kestie Morassi played one of the nurses in Darkness Falls. John Jarratt was in Next of Kin and played the happy coroner in Needle, as well as returning to the role of Mick in Wolf Creek 2 eight years later and a TV series two years after that.

SEED

seed1.5 Stars  2007/18/86m

Director/Writer: Uwe Boll / Cast: Michael Pare, Will Sanderson, Ralf Moeller, Andrew Jackson, Thea Gill, Jodelle Micah Ferland.

Body Count: 10


At the “world premiere” of Seed, much-critiqued director Uwe Boll told the audience he wanted to make a horror film “that was no fun.” Well, he’s done something right…

Seed begins with a warning that it contains “actual scenes of torture,” but the only ‘real’ footage is that of animals a pelt house, supposedly being watched by the killer. It’s gross, to be sure, as a soppy animal lover and immediately dragged my dog closer to me in protection from it’s icky grossness. Strangely – and possibly emphatic of the criticism levelled at Boll’s questionable skills – none of it has anything to do with the rest of the film, which is set in 1979, although we don’t learn this until we see the date written down at least one third of the way through!

The loon here, Max Seed, has apparently murdered 666 people in 6 years – which means 2.13 victims per week without being caught. Yeah, Uwe, “OK”. We see the killer’s cell where he starves various unfortunates to death, starting with a dog (mine is huddled ever closer), then a baby. Through time-lapse photography, they rot into skeletons. Fairly grim. I toy with ejecting the disc and skipping this one altogether.

“Fortunately”, things brighten up just a lil bit once he is caught and strapped into The Chair. There’s some gibberish about the chair not working properly and a bullshit triple jeopardy rule that states if a convict survives three jolts of electricity, he goes free! The prison warden, doctor and detectives conspire and bury Seed alive. A happy ending? Hell-to-the-no! Seed digs himself free and does away with those responsible.

On paper, the plot sounds familiarly acceptable (echoes of Welcome to Spring Break and Destroyer) but the film is half over by the time the stalk n’ slashing begins and is structured so unconventionally that the story is neo impossible to follow. Character names are unclear, as are their roles for the most part, hell they don’t even tell us when the damn thing is set for ages! The absence of any identifiable hero or final girl doesn’t help matters either.

A scene where Seed hammers an anonymous woman’s head in, shot entirely in one take and lasting several minutes, burrows new depths of ‘torture porn’ but thankfully features a level of CGI I could create with Microsoft Paint. That doesn’t work properly. With no mouse. And no hands.

This is the first Boll film I’ve seen, likely to be the last as well. Technically, there’s some negotiable ability there but a brief scan of the articles the detective reads reveals countless spelling and grammar errors – it’s like nobody even tried. Seed, schmeed, ‘PC game’ (!?) included or not. FAIL!

Pant-Soiling Scenes #3: ROGUE

It’s been a while since I’ve watched a film that had me shouting at the screen: “swim faster!!!” But Rogue did the trick as a humongoid saltwater croc chows down on stranded tourists and, in this particular scene, their makeshift rope-bridge to safety collapses three of them into the water…

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It’s an ace flick to rival Alligator as best killer reptile film ever!! Points were deducted for the dog being killed though. Sad times.

EDGE OF THE AXE

edgeoftheaxe2.5 Stars  1988/18/87m

“There is nothing silent about nights in Paddock County.”

Director: Joseph Braunstein [Jose Larraz] / Writers: Joaquin Amichatis, Javier Elorrieta & Jose Frade / Cast: Barton Faulks, Christina Marie Lane, Page Moseley, Fred Holliday, Patty Shepard, Alicia Moro, Jack Taylor, May Heatherly, Elmer Modlin, Joy Blackburn, Mark Schmidtke, Allan Larson.

Body Count: 9


A Spanglomerican slasher filled with heavily-accented actors pretending to be small town Americans. As if fitting in isn’t hard enough, there’s an axe-swingin’ madman offing the womenfolk. With the murders given about as much serious attention as localised flu epidemic, the local law enforcement attempt to pass off the obvious slayings as accidents before eventually admitting there’s a psycho on the loose. (“She must have repeatedly fallen on the axe!!”)

Meanwhile, a computer geek called Gerald falls in love with moody Lillian, who thinks the killer is her cuz Charlie, whom she accidentally injured years before. Other useless subplots revolve around Gerald’s gold-digging bud Richard, who wants rid of his wealthy, older wife and cheats on her with another chick – and leaves the story totally unscathed!!!

Several primary victims don’t even get any lines apart from “aaaaarrrggghhh!!!” as the white-masked loon busts through doors at them. They are coded as hookers, gossips and cheats, while the menfolk are nowhere to be seen when the killer puts in another appearance.

Larraz manages to create some tension from time to time but the film peaks with the opening axe ’em up at a car wash and its climax appears slightly skewered once all of the red herrings are eliminated, with a motive so contrived and unlikely – how convenient was it that all the intended victims were so local? It’s better than his sophomore slasher, Savage Lust, though.

Blurbs-of-interest: Page Moseley was in Open House; Jack Taylor was in Pieces.

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