WHAT IT’S ABOUT:
Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night with that feeling that something is terribly wrong? I had that the other night. I was sleeping soundly, fantasising about buying bed linen made from Egyptian cotton, when I was suddenly jerked awake with this feeling of absolute dread. Not two minutes later my phone rang, and there was My Friend The Killer Clown Movie, sobbing on the other end. We’ve been friends for so long, but as usual we haven’t seen one another in ages (in fact, not since all those frat boys were murdered over on Hell Island). I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I told him to dry his clownish tears and get on over to my place ASAP.
By the time he arrived I’d just managed to throw on some seductively manly pyjamas and make hot chocolate with marshmallows. After a lot of hugs and comforting words, My Friend The Killer Clown Movie was finally calm enough to tell me what was wrong. Turns out this recession has hit everyone pretty hard, and even great movie concepts like my dear friend has had to resort to whatever it takes just to pay the bills. That’s how he landed up starring in Sloppy the Psychotic, a decidedly z-grade movie about a once-lovely clown that goes a tad bit off the rails. He explained to me that, while it looked good when he read the script, when he got there there was neither the acting talent to make it somewhat credible, nor the humour to make the constant barrage of shock tactics even remotely entertaining. Poor guy, I don’t know how much more his dented ego can take.
So there me and My Friend The Killer Clown Movie sat, under a blanket with me braiding his neon green hair, and I asked him to give me a run down of this movie that pushed him to the brink; a good friend needs to understand what’s he dealing with before he can provide any kind of help. It’s a simple enough story: Mike was a nice guy with a dream – all he ever wanted to do was be a clown and entertain all the children of the world. Now, times are tough, and the world of clowning is cut-throat. Turn you’re back for one moment and a mime will be trying to take away all your business. But if you love what you do, as Mike does, then none of that really matters. Nothing, until you’re victimised by a group of pool partying white trash that make fun of your life long dream. Oh no, dear reader, that’s when you push a clown one step too far.
Just telling me this much got My Friend The Killer Clown Movie all weepy again, so I ran him a candle-lit bubble bath and put some Enya on in the background so that he could really relax while he told me the rest of this movie. At this point I was still on board, but I could see that things were going to take a very sharp downward turn. Oh boy, did they ever. Apparently one bottle of vodka is all that it takes to turn a mild-mannered clown into one that’s shoving a dead hooker in a trunk. And then there’s all those repressed emotions: anger, fear, rejection, sexual drought, and somehow all that’s gotta come out. As is often the case, these feelings manifest with Mike becoming a cannibal, poisoning some small children, barbecuing other small children, running over mentally handicapped individuals, amputating penises, using fish hooks on prostitutes, running a lawn mower over teenagers, decapitating housewives, and doing unspeakable things to men with a very large candy cane. Yeah, that’s what being under appreciated at work will do to a person.
I think that between the hot chocolate, hair braiding, and the bubble bath, My Friend The Killer Clown Movie has just about regained the will to carry on doing what he does best. The important thing is to focus on the good – I reminded him that this movie has a rather epic version of Pop Goes the Weasel playing in the background quite often, and that’s something at least. After he’d toweled himself off we lay in bed for a while reminiscing about all the good times we’d had together, and as the sun slowly dawned on the horizon he decided that he’d best be heading home before the wife knew he was out. She never has approved of our friendship – neither of us can figure out why. This time, however, we promised not to let so much time go by before we got together again.
LIFE’S LESSONS LEARNED:
- Coulrophobia in small towns forces many clowns to live out their lives in secrecy and shame.
- It’s a risky career move to hedge all your bets on being a clown.
- Any clown company worth its salt has a fleet of vehicles ready to transport loads of emergency rubber chickens at a moment’s notice.
- Recently retrenched clowns and vodka are a deadly, deadly combination.
- Secretly, every woman wants to have sex with a man in full clown costume at least once in her life.
- Hobos have only two natural enemies: hungover clowns and puddles of their own urine.
- Death by anal candy cane isn’t a way that anyone wants to go.
- There’s no length a hooker won’t go to if there’s $500 on the line.
- It’s rude to discuss your sex life in front of a hired clown.
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WHAT IT’S ABOUT:
In life there has to be that one constant. In the face of work, commitments, bills and demonically possessed kittens there has to be that one source of comfort that you can fall back on, that safe place where you know everything’s alright and that your troubles won’t find you. For me, that safe place is neon coloured and dressed in spandex. The 80s b-movie is an amazing thing and makes no excuses for what it is. It’s daft, it’s filled to the brim with bad hair and it captures a time when mom jeans were just being handed out to women of all shapes, sizes and ages. One can’t overdo it with the 80s b-movie, however, lest we be fooled into thinking the mullet is an acceptable choice of hairstyle, but let’s take this moment to look back on a more strikingly colourful era and on the wonder that is Neon Maniacs.
The scene of the crime is San Francisco, a city of giant bridges, horny teenagers and excessive neon signs. It was a time when all the police were absolute pigs whose powers stopped just short of being able to beat a 10-year-old to within an inch of their lives for any arbitrary reason. Natalie and all her friends are out for the night in the park where they will indulge in the youthful pleasures of football, underage beer drinking and open air sex. That is, until the Neon Maniacs arrive on the scene. I’m guessing that since none of them are particularly neon in colour their name is some allusion to the sins of the city. With each individual dressed as a character from the past (ranging from cave man to Samurai to Native American) they make quick work of the gathered teenagers, hacking them to pieces and dragging their corpses off to their lair. Only Natalie survives the horrible incident, yet no one seems to believe her about who the assailants were.
Natalie’s a tough old broad, however, and isn’t about to let the brutal massacre of all her friends get her down. Displaying no emotion whatsoever she decides to go back to school the very next day. Her friends are dead so I’m guessing the idea is that there’s nothing she can do about it, so why worry? Since the police in town are not only pigs but the sort that wait for clear instructions to come from on high no official statement has been made and Natalie’s friends are officially reported missing. Assuming that it’s all some sort of elaborate prank the families of said missing friends start to give Natalie trouble, demanding to know where their loved ones are. When Natalie can’t provide them with any answers the principal suspends her from school until such time as the situation sorts itself out.
All this tragedy and upset doesn’t mean, of course, that Natalie can’t quickly resume her dating life. Onto the scene comes Steven, the most bizarre nerd / delivery boy / dog walker / aspiring rock star / sex machine combination to ever grace the small screen. Having been enamoured with Natalie for years he whole heartedly buys into the story of the Neon Maniacs and promises to keep her safe and help bring an end to their (rather short) reign of terror. They will be aided in their battle against evil by Paula, an enthusiastic high school amateur director (making her more highly qualified than many of the directors of the movies I’ve watched) and monster fan. Armed with only their wits, some water pistols, their inability to experience emotions and their general teenage angst it’s up to these three to save the world from the Neon Maniacs and their super sharp Shogun Knives.
LIFE’S LESSONS LEARNED:
- Nothing hits the spot like $5 champagne.
- You don’t need a bouncer in a supermarket’s fruit section.
- Not having sex isn’t illegal, but it’s considered highly inappropriate in certain slut circles.
- It’s always best to go for a relaxing swim after you’ve witnessed the deaths of all your friends.
- In the 80s some high school seniors had yet to go through puberty.
- Women should be ostracised from the community for surviving a brutal massacre.
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WHAT IT’S ABOUT:
In the great big world of b-grade horror, with so many titles vying for my attention, a movie needs to do a little something to catch my eye and make me want to see it. The three exclamation marks in this one’s title were enough to do it for me, and after the crushing disappointment that was Kinky Killers I was ready for something that would tickle my funny bone a little. This one came very close to being funny, but was ultimately let down by the fact that the actors appear to have been picked up at the local bus station and given 5 minutes to remember their lines. By the time this reality fully drove itself home I was already about 20 minutes in, so I figured I might as well finish watching it.
Back in 1970 smoking weed was all the rage. It was so fashionable, in fact, that it distracted certain men from the fact that they were sitting around in their mother’s basement, half-dressed and closing in on 40. It truly was a golden age. One fateful night three stoners, having previously passed a few lazy, hazy hours watching a rudimentary form of porn, decide that they’re hungry and head out in the pursuit of snacks. On this journey a miracle happens: out of the mist, in the middle of the road, accompanied by a wind machine and perfectly placed back light, emerges the female from said rudimentary porn video. Questioning nothing, including why she literally has buckets of green saliva, the stoners let her into the car and offer to drive her all night to get to her destination. This was the last Good Samaritan act any of them will ever perform. The woman quickly slashes all of them to pieces and crashes the car into a shallow puddle of water, where it will lie untouched for nearly 40 years.
In the year 2008 the shallow puddle of water has since evaporated, leaving the old car exposed. Jack Gorman, with the help of two buddies, his dog and some industrial building machinery, manages to drag the old car out for reasons vaguely alluded to. In the car’s boot he discovers a very strange, squishy object that (to the trained monster movie eye) resembles a kind of cocoon. He thinks nothing about it, and heads on home for dinner. Elsewhere in the forest a group of young college creatures has just arrived to celebrate Spring Break. Veronica, our blonde and chinless heroine, wants to get together with all her old friends to rekindle the interest they once had in one another. Whilst it was hard to imagine anyone once having an interest in any member of this group, I decided to suspend disbelief and see where the movie wanted to take me.
Just to clear up any confusion anyone may be experiencing, the cocoon from earlier had a banshee (!!!) in it and now it’s running around the woods. The kids find this out relatively early into their camping trip when one of them gets a branch rammed through their face. Jack and his nephew Rocker have been having a stand-off with the creature for a few days, but it’s making quick work of anyone else who just happens to be wandering through the woods. Its scream isn’t only debilitating but, if you’re exposed to it for long enough, your head will explode. When the surviving kids manage to find Jack’s house they all need to band together to fend off the banshee (!!!) or land up being ripped limb from limb and drained of blood. Personally, in a toss-up between the dismemberment and watching this movie again, I’m still in two minds about which one I’d go for.
LIFE’S LESSONS LEARNED:
- So far as stalkers go you could do a lot worse than the average looking black guy.
- Good friends will teleport ahead of the group to set up the camp site.
- It’s very unusual for a banshee to live outside its natural Irish habitat.
- Women who go camping are just asking to be pursued by a sexual deviant.
- When your wife has been brutally slain you should wait a few days before mopping up the blood.
- Some people go to college to do more than just drink beer and pee on things.
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WHAT IT’S ABOUT:
It’s a special moment here at the B-Horror Blog 🙂 I’ve been doing this for just under a year now and this is my 100th review. To mark this special occasion I knew I had to go back to b-movie basics; I needed a movie that was not only bad but, in the tradition of true b-horror movies, was made with no budget, people who couldn’t act and had many, many breasts in it. Bikini Bloodbath just sounded like it would fit all of the above criteria, and boy did it ever. When the opening credits state that it was written and directed by ‘Who the Fuck Cares’ you just know it’s going to be bad. But it’s the good kind of bad in that it’s mindless and daft and you just watch the screen and marvel and the stupidity of the characters as they parade around in their bikinis trying not to be killed while keeping their blood alcohol content as high as possible.
So we begin our bikini-laden misadventure at the local high school for late-20-somethings. All the girls are part of the school’s volleyball team and are busy getting in their final practice while being gently molested by their lesbian coach. With practice over our group of vapid females head off to the shower to wash one another off and throw used tampons at Suzy, the girl no one likes for reasons unknown. In amongst all of the scrubbing of backs and intense breast hygiene the girls decide that they should all get together that night for a final sleepover before they graduate highschool. Once they go off to college they worry that they won’t see one another again, so they really want to make this evening count and have many happy memories to guide them through the bleak years of adulthood. Only problem with all this? There’s a killer on the loose. The chef from one of the town’s favourite eateries lost it and killed most of his staff before making a run for it and is still on the loose. We know he’s close because he manages to kill one of the girls while she’s walking through the woods to get home. So let’s recap: half a dozen drunk, perky females in a house on their own in nothing but their bikinis and a killer on the loose. Yeah, what could possibly go wrong here…
Not to be outdone by the women the football jocks decide that they’re gonna have their own party, and what unfolds is one of the most bizarre things I have ever seen in a movie. Clearly the area isn’t rich in the more common manly jock that we are familiar with from other movies, so instead we have a more special group of people to deal with. Most of them also appear to be at that stage in their life where they want to experiment with another guy just to see what it would be like. Twister is played, streamers are strewn, ice cream is eaten, the football coach fondles a few of his players and really uncoordinated dances are danced. The girls are pretty much up to the same thing, except they also have daiquiris and are in nothing but their bikinis. Two of the guys decide that they’ve had enough of being groped by their team mates for one evening and head over to the girl’s party for a different kind of fun.
The boys’ attempts at seducing the girls is brought to an abrupt halt, however, when our killer rocks up on the scene. It all began with a throat slashing and quickly deteriorated into an evening of bloodshed as the chef makes his way through the scantily clad little group. His job is made all the easier owing to a complete lack of common sense on his victims’ part. The first issue the group must contend with is Suzy, who was not invited to the party, and as such the other girls don’t feel she has any right to either be there or contribute to the escape plan. The second issue that needs to be dealt with is when one of the girls offers to make a run for it and go get the police she insists she must make a stop off on the way to grab some tacos. This inevitably slows down the rescue process. The third and final issue is that, lacking any idea of how to make it out of the house alive (although the killer is in the house), the group instead decides to make more daiquiris and get hammered. This slows down their reaction time when they need to do battle with the killer. All in all, it was a very interesting party to be at.
LIFE’S LESSONS LEARNED:
- Women will clap for virtually anything.
- Women enjoy being sexually harassed by their lesbian gym coaches.
- Sometimes walking through a cemetery and then some dark woods is the quickest way to get home.
- Homeless people smell like cheese.
- If you weren’t invited to the party you can’t be allowed in to be saved from a killer.
- If you weren’t invited to the party you can’t contribute to any plan that would involve saving everyone.
- The Bible can be used as a weapon against a murderer.
- Pro Crack Whore is now a viable career choice.
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WHAT IT’S ABOUT:
OK horror fans, time to stand our ground and do the world a favour. If you own a DVD copy of Queen Cobra, burn it and cover the spot where it was burned with rock salt to prevent any of its evil spirits from re-entering our world. If you own a digital copy of the movie then delete it and do the same with your hard drive as I recommend people do with the DVD. We can’t be too careful. This particular little gem ranks right up there with the utter worst of the worst I have ever seen. Only the most seasoned of b-movie horror fans should attempt to watch this, and if possible I recommend doing it in a group setting. People don’t always come back from this sort of thing…
It’s just another day on a non-existent college campus with its own resident mad scientist. The mad scientist in question is Dr Hall who is being funded by the government to do research on how to genetically mutate king cobras. These snakes are named sweetly after Homer and Marge Simpson and their parts are played by 4 different individuals: 2 real snakes that are quite clearly stock footage and 2 other snakes that are quite obviously made of plastic. Helping Dr Hall with the experiments are Courtney and Jeff, two of his postgrad students who are hopelessly in love with one another and who, despite having been involved in every step of the process, are completely unaware of what these snakes are actually being bred for. So far the doctor has managed to mutate them so that they can shoot (copious amounts) of acid at anyone who comes near them that completely melts the skin in a matter of seconds. No mad doctor, however, is ever content with simply having snakes that shoot acid and staying within the confines of his government contract so you know havoc and terror are about to rain down on this little campus.
This is where Rita comes in. Bless her, Rita’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer and she’s not doing very well in Dr Hall’s class so she needs to find some way of passing that doesn’t involve the use of a brain. As any girl would do in this situation does she dons her tiniest skirt and most low-cut top, goes to see Dr Hall and explains that she is willing to do simply anything to get a passing grade. Sadly for Rita what Dr Hall has in mind is slightly different to what she was implying and she lands up being stabbed to death with a tiny, tiny little knife and having her blood drawn for a DNA sample. This DNA is then given to the irradiated Marge the snake as part of the experiment. When Homer is killed by Dr Hall after he escapes Marge becomes very angry and escapes as well and, with the help of Rita’s DNA, transforms into a snake-woman hybrid, ready to take her revenge on everyone for the loss of her one true love.
Now the research facility where all of this is taking place really isn’t all that big. In fact all the makers of this movie seemed to be able to do was get hold of one room and free rein on a corridor and they were hellbent on making the most of the situation. Since the facility is so small the sounds of Marge mutating and then killing one of the security guards makes its way to Courtney and Jeff who then become the newest targets for the Queen Cobra. Floating around in all of this we are also given insight into Dr Hall’s marriage to his (much younger) wife and her TV repair man lover. None of this is at all important and in no way move the story along but simply provide one way for this movie to pad out its time a little more when people and creatures aren’t running up and down the corridor. While the Queen Cobra continues her attacks on anyone she comes into contact with Courtney and Jeff need to try and outsmart both the creature and Dr Hall who isn’t prepared to go down without a fight and is intent on training the Queen Cobra to obey his commands.
Apart from the obvious overuse of the corridor and the fact that, at most points, the plotline is holding on by the skin of its teeth the most fun part of this movie is watching the Queen Cobra herself. Obviously the budget didn’t allow for many touch ups of the body makeup and, as the movie progresses, more and more of it begins to peel off. It’s a horrible movie, but I would recommend it if for no other reason than to say you watched it and survived the experience 🙂
LIFE’S LESSONS LEARNED:
- Any man who creates a snake woman suddenly thinks he’s God.
- Scientists are not at all perturbed by melting corpses lying around on the floor.
- Irrespective of whether or not actual experiments are taking place something in a lab is always making a bubbling sound.
- The use of grad students extends to making them help you with horrific DNA experiments.
- Some people are very concerned about the rights of king cobras.
- Secret agents should, at all times, walk around like a mentally challenged robot.
- Security guard stations often have only red lighting and porno music playing in the background.
- Snake women don’t hunt, they prance about.
- A snake woman’s skin has evolved a natural thong.
- Human heads being torn off a body sound a lot like fabric ripping.
- Snake women have natural lesbian instincts.
- 2 night guards constitutes an entire security force.
- Secret agents are always one scene behind the monster.
- It takes a person a few seconds before they realised they’ve been shot in the head and are now dead.
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