Tag Archives: Nu-di-ty

Doctor Death

surgeon1994THE SURGEON

2 Stars  1994/18/96m

“First Jason… Then Freddy… Finally, a professional.”

A.k.a. Exquisite Tenderness; Clinic

Director: Carl Schenkel / Writers: Patrick Cirillo & Bernard Slowe / Cast: Isabel Glasser, James Remar, Sean Haberle, Peter Boyle, Malcolm McDowell, Charles Dance, Beverly Todd, Charles Bailey Gates, Walter Olkewicz, Mother Love.

Body Count: 8

What a cast! How could it go wrong? It can’t …right?

A doctor secretly working on a breakthrough serum that would end physical suffering is fired for his experiments on the patients, goes mad, and returns to take revenge on the people responsible for shutting him down. It’s up to nosy docs Glasser and Remar to put a stop to the carnage before it’s too late.

Not too much going on in the way of thrills and there’s precious little slashing to be seen, plus the killer’s identity is revealed too soon into the movie, robbing it of a possible extra twist – and so we’re left with a slick but standardised medical thriller, the only original remaining plot feature of which is the killer’s ability to overcome his injuries by injecting himself with his own serum thus making him invincible. There’s also full frontal male nudity, courtesy of Dexter’s dad Remar.

As far as hospital slashers go, Cold Prey II and Halloween II are yet to be beat.

Blurbs-of-interest: McDowell later played Dr Loomis in Rob Zombie’s Halloween re-thingies, and was also the sheriff in Silent Night; Walter Olkewicz was in Milo.

Good girl gone bad


2.5 Stars  1987/18/93m

“You can’t keep a bad girl down.”

A.k.a. The Haunting of Hamilton High

Director: Bruce Pittman / Writer: Ron Oliver / Cast: Michael Ironside, Wendy Lyon, Justin Louis, Lisa Schrage, Richard Monette, Terri Hawkes, Beverley Hendry, Brock Simpson, Beth Gondek.

Body Count: 6

Laughter Lines: “I tell you guys, she’s possessed: Linda Blairsville.”

Hello Mary Lou, goodbye heart goes the old song, and it’s quite apt in this case.

High school moniker aside, there’s nothing that links this Elm Street-snorting film with the 1980 revenge slasher, giving credence to the notion that it was originally intended to be a standalone affair.

Prom night. 1957. Hamilton High. Free n’ easy Mary Lou Maloney is caught by her date getting it on with another guy. Her jilted beau intends to humiliate her once she is crowned Queen of the Prom, but ends up setting her on fire in front of the whole school.

Thirty years later, mousy goody two shoes and prom queen hopeful Vicki (Lyon) unleashes Mary Lou’s vengeful spirit, which begins to turn her crazy in an attempt at full on possession to have the moment of prom glory she was robbed of. And, naturally, both of Mary Lou’s suitors have grown up to be the high school principal and the local priest respectively.

marylou1Meanwhile, Vicki’s friends slowly – very slowly – begin to fall victim to Mary Lou’s magical tantrums, including a girl squashed by lockers, electrocution via the most 80s of 80s school computers, and impalement by falling decor.

The Canadian 80s qualities shine through in a cheesy, endearing way, with plenty of day-glo, florescent lights, and beyond horrific fashion choices, underscored by one of Vicki’s friends telling her her fifties look is a crime against fashion. By this point, Mary Lou has somehow sucked her through a blackboard and possessed her completely – she makes out with her dad, throws her puritan mother through a door, and walks totally naked around the changing rooms stalking a friend in a weird pseudo lesbianic scene, fitfully culminating in the big prom finale that manages to channel both Carrie and Elm Street 2, as Mary Lou’s charred corpse literally busts its way out of Vicki.

marylou2Overall, the film goes through the motions of any possession opus, tossing in a handful of demises, crucially failing to ‘properly’ do away with the stock bitchy girl, who is summarily killed by a rod that falls from the ceiling at the dance, but at least it has some decent FX work and an interesting villain. Prom Night III: The Last Kiss sees the return of Mary Lou and wisely ups the laughs, resulting in a better film experience.

Blurbs-of-interest: Terri Hawkes was in Killer Party; Michael Ironside’s other slasher credits include Visiting Hours, American Nightmare, Children of the Corn: Revelation, Fallen Angels, and Reeker; Brock Simpson appears in all four Prom Night films in different roles.

“Dude, where’s my head?”

dude bro party massacre iii dvdDUDE BRO PARTY MASSACRE III

3 Stars  2015/102m

“Don’t let a bro see it alone.”

Directors/Writers: Tomm Jacobsen, Michael Rousselet, Jon Salmon / Writers: Alec Owen, Michael E. Peter, Ben Gigli, Timothy Ciancio, Joey Scoma, Mike James, Brian Firenzi / Cast: Alec Owen, Ben Gigli, Paul Prado, Kelsey Gunn, Brian Firenzi, Maria Del Carmen, Jimmy Wong, Mike James, Joey Scoma, Michael Rousselet, Jon Salmon, Greg Sestero, Olivia Taylor Dudley.

Body Count: 42 (+250 in planes crashing into orphanage)

Not many films can claim they started as a 5-second parody trailer, but this marks the humble beginnings of Dude Bro Party Massacre III, spawned from the aptly named 5-Second Films, who made smirksome little vignettes once a day, every day.

Crowdfunded for a feature length production, the slasher opus gets lampooned once again – but what new can be done with it that wasn’t done in everything from Student Bodies and Wacko to Scary Movie and The Final Girls?

Story first. Fratboy Brock Chirino has survived two fraternity row massacres, courtesy of vengeful killer Motherface, who has it in for the Dude Bro’s, brothers of the Delta Bi Theta Frat House. After he recaps the events of Dude Bro Party Massacres I & II – as per Adrienne King’s extremely eidetic flashback dreams – his throat is viciously cut by his therapist.

dbpm3-1Soon after, Brock’s twin brother Brent arrives to find out the truth of his bro’s “fatal freak accident” and seek revenge. He’s quickly inducted into the fraternity and they are expelled from campus for Spring Break after a prank ends up killing 250 people.

The Dude Bro’s journey out to a closed down sorority house by a lake where Motherface springs up and kills them in a variety of weird and grisly ways, from turning one bro’s head into a blood kegger to electrocutions, impalings, and flushing a guy’s intestines down a toilet. Soon, only Brent is left to find his answers and try to defeat Motherface and close the book on the Dude Bro Party Massacres for good.

Without a doubt, the smartest decision made was to style the film as a forgotten 80s late night horror film taped from a cable channel, complete the VHS slurs, hastily edited out TV commercials for all manner of strange products and services, and the general naff appeal of the mid-80s teen horror film, though at times the production quality was a bit too good.

dbpm3-motherfaceThe film authentically looks the part (usual hair and eyebrow exceptions notwithstanding), and is perhaps only weighed down by running about ten minutes too long and the jokes either hitting the target or not. The slasher sentiments were all on point for me, but I was confused by the bizarre (and annoying) cop subplot, which prompted a few random chuckles, but never converged with the other events going on. Though thankfully it doesn’t go down the same ego-strumming route that ended up shooting Club Dread in the foot.

Definitely an acquired taste, but fans of splatstick OTT gore and the associated black humour won’t be disappointed (though a good whack of the bodycount comes hard n’ fast at the start). Look out for Larry King as the coach during the flashbacks.

Pop Eye.


3 Stars  1975/89m

“A blinding vision of horror.”

A.k.a. The Secret Killer

Director: Umberto Lenzi / Writer: Felix Tusell / Cast: Martine Brochard, John Richardson, Ines Pellegrini, Andrés Mejuto, Mirta Miller, Daniele Vargas, George Rigaud, Silvia Solar, José Maria Blanco, Marta May, John Bartha, Verónica Miriel.

Body Count: 7

Laughter Lines: “Are you saying the killer’s a sadist?” / “I wouldn’t rule it out.”

That this film begins with a tour guide saying: “Coming up on the left now is Barcelona’s bullfighting arena,” when it’s on the right sets things up awesomely.

Fun little giallo shot on location in and around Barcelona (where I’ve spent a majority of the last year) where a bus chock full of American tourists provides a victim pool for an eye-gouging killer who favours plucking peepers from various nubile young girls. Beware a few minor SPOILERS.

I’m not particularly well-versed in giallo classics, but I’ve seen enough to spot the standard hallmarks in play: Mystery glove-wearing killer, many-a fast zoom into character’s faces as something suspicious is said, “Americans” with Euro-accents, amusing translations and clunky dubbing.

*sigh* I miss the 70s... Oh wait, I wasn't there.

*sigh* I miss the 70s… Oh wait, I wasn’t there.

Being a pre-American slasher product, Eyeball nevertheless presents itself with more than a few 80s teenie-kill aesthetics: There are POV shots as the killer floats towards his next unsuspecting victim, boobs-a-plenty, and a short but sweet final girl sequence – with, shock, a black final girl!

So, Paulette is on the tour and her boss/lover Mark, has run out on his disturbed wife to catch up and romance the hell out of Paulette. This is scuppered by the onset of the killings – first a local girl at La Ramblas, then one of the tour group is murdered on a ghost train, a waitress at a bar they all visit is dispatched while she feeds the pigs (!), and so on.

Naturally, all the men are suspects and it’s down to retirement-nearing Inspector Tudela and his young successor to solve the case before he embarks on a life of trout fishing. Fun. Aside from Mark, there’s a creepy Reverend, the boring husband of a restless wife, a cigar-chomping Texan, and the pervy tour guide, who likes to prank the young girls with his array of crappy fake spiders and rodents. Each of them is afforded more than a handful of the zooms-of-suspicion at one point. Even Jessica Fletcher would be dumbfounded by the sheer number of potential loons on this vacation.

eyeball2Spain is presented in lush colours and inimitable 70s fashion choices, which lends the film a pleasantly diverting quality, as if you’re taking a holiday from the same-old American slasher film conventions.

Nothing really lets Eyeball down, it just suffers from the ridiculousness that haunts the whole sub-genre, with a motive so whacky I had to re-watch the ensure I’d actually not misunderstood it.

Otherwise, it’s business as usual: The females are all super hot and super killed, while the only male victim is old and creasy-faced, and killed off-camera. The men can be slimy, sleazy, and annoying but still survive intact, which is a general motif in most Italian body-count horror.

There’s a curiously long exchange about mud on footwear: “It’s elementary, as I’m sure you’re aware that simple walking can get a pair of shoes quite dirty.” There are eyes in a box, daggers conveniently monogrammed with the initials of a suspect, secret photographers and rolls of film with aaaaall the answers. Eyeball has it all. You won’t be bored.

eyeball1Blurbs-of-interest: Brochard and Richardson were reunited in 1981’s Fear; Umberto Lenzi later directed Welcome to Spring Break and also the unsettlingly creepy Ghosthouse.

I Was Made for Killin’ You Baby


1.5 Stars  1980/84m

Director: Don Edmonds / Writer: Dell Lekus / Cast: Rick Styles, Chip Greenman, Dave Galluzzo, Richard Pemberton, Larry Thomasof, Jeff Morgan, Dave Thompson, Lisa Rodriguez, John Green.

Body Count: 8

Laughter Lines: “I had to kill them… They had no moral boundaries at all. They were whores.”

The Clowns are a KISS-lite rock band on the way up, who dress in campy makeup and capes, and feign executions of nubile dancers during their show… But their road to success is endangered by the murders of groupies-cum-prostitutes at their gigs. The fiendish slayer dresses identically to the band for his murderous outings, so it could be anyone. ANYONE!

Well, not really. There’s only really the band, their manager, and a couple of roadies on the suspect list. It’s not especially challenging to correctly guess who it is and the revelation, complete with the standardized misogynistic motive (see Laughter Lines), is a through-the-motions affair.

Terror on Tour was reportedly shot in just seven days, with the real band (The Names) largely playing themselves, acting duties fall largely to their manager, the roadie guys, a detective who appears halfway through, and the ex-junkie girl he hires to infiltrate the backstage area and bait the killer.

The other ‘characters’ – or rather the victims – are barely afforded names let alone anything else to do than remove their clothes and say things like: “Come on baby, I’m ready, ooh you turn me on so much.” It’s sleazy, grindhousey, underlit, has bad sound, and – worst of all: Boring.

tot1Things do pick up a little when Jane, the bait, arrives, and I expected her to function as a sort of last-minute final girl, but she’s cruelly knifed when she encounters the killer, leaving no female intact come the end. But, I suppose there have been more than a few films where no men were left standing.

As far as metalsploitation films go, at the least the band’s music isn’t suicidally bad for a once, it’s no better nor worse than Rocktober Blood.

Blurbs-of-interest: Rodriguez was in Home, Sweet Home, which shares its producer Sandy Cobe, with this film, as well as To All A Goodnight and Open House. Cobe appears here at the theater manager at the first show.

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