Friday, August 29, 2008

the entrance of uranus.

The Red Monks (1988).
Dir: Gianni Martucci.
Cast: Gerardo Amato, Lara Wendel, Malisa Lang, Chuck Valenti, Claudio Pacifico, Mary Maxwell, Gaetano Russo and Ludovico Della Jojo.


The Garlini family are one of those unlucky enough (but quite common according to Eurotrash cinema) to have some kinda curse that gets visited on generation after generation.

Unlike most movie curses which seem to involve Werewolves or hidden torture chambers the Garlini one appears to concern a violin playing old woman and a nude, turban headed lady with a predilection for jogging.

Takes all sorts I guess.

Anyway, back in the movie a young fella my lad about town (in a snazzy Burton's suit) has just noticed the naked lady running around his garden and decides to call out to her (as you would) but she ignores his cries and heads into his house (wahey!).

Following her indoors and down into the houses sprawling basement the nameless bloke finds this dusky beauty standing with her back to him giving him plenty of time to take in the curves of her ample arse.

But before you can say 'up the casino' she slowly turns around and with sword in hand beheads the poor sod.

Ouch.

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Riverseafingle's finest council
estate scrubber Bobby:
not naked
or welding a sword (unfortunately).



Luckily scary voiceover man sexily intoning "fifty years earlier" snaps us back to reality which is a blessed relief after experiencing so much terror so early in the proceedings.

Still in the grounds of the house, well to do hunk Bob Garlini (Amato) is minding his own business when he comes across a foxy lady (dressed as a cleaner for reasons only known to the director) stuck up a tree whilst Bob's vicious dog barks at her.

Which in itself is a bit bizarre because the woman in question is played by Lara Wendel, who also gets snapped at by a big dog in Dario Argento's Tenebrae.

Bob convinces Ramona (for that is her name) to jump out of the tree and into his manly arms just before the rubber joke shop spider that's glued to one of the branches 'bites' her.

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I don't know what's more
wooden, the tree or Wendel's leg.



As she falls into his arms their eyes meet and it's love at first sight. Whirlwind romance and marriage follow, which would be all well and good if not for Bob's dark secret.

You see it appears that Bob has a cellar chock full of spooky red monks intent on having his new bride sacrificed within four days, not only that but she has to remain a virgin (which is bad news for all parties really).

As you would expect, this puts a wee bit of pressure on the poor guy on his wedding night, leaving Ramona to wonder if she should have just jumped out the tree and let the dog have her.

To make matters worse Bob keeps getting called away to 'important business meetings', leaving his grumpier by the minute bride sitting at home getting the piss taken out of her by the housekeeper.

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Bob (in a) monkhouse.


Luckily Ramona quickly strikes up a friendship with her maid, the raven haired, dark eyed Lucille (Lang from Thor The Conqueror) who is more than happy to entertain the new Mrs. Garlini with tours of the scary cellar to check out the handy guillotine kept hidden in there.

Deciding that spending her evenings skulking about in dank cellars is way more fun than watching the Hallmark channel Ramona eventually comes across the red monks going about their basement based business, which would be fine if she didn't suddenly wake up in bed half way thru' the chat.

Is she going mental?

Well her hubbie and housekeeper seem set on trying to convince her so.

Lucille is having none of it tho' and tells Ramona that she did indeed go into the cellar that evening and that she isn't in fact going loopy after all.

Phew.

Everything seems to be back to normal the next day (well, if you forget about the monks, the plot to send Ramona mad and the fact that her hubbie keeps eying up the housemaid) so our lovebirds decide to enjoy a picnic in the garden, this romantic notion is oh so slightly spoiled however when Lucille's severed head pops out of the picnic hamper during the cheese selection.

Trying to make the best of a bad situation, Ramona reckons a wee bit of painting may calm her nerves, but would you credit it, that darned spider is back on the loose.

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Lang: damn good head.


As if by magic (or perhaps because of some tawdry storytelling), just as the beastie is about to bite Ramona an unhealthily thin bloke with a really awful ponytail (Pacifico...possibly, but who really cares?) arrives and shags our heroine (much to her annoyance).

Finally getting into the groove she pulls down her dress, pops her knickers in her pocket and arranges to meet the leathery Lothario for drinks in a local bar later that night.

Result.

After a pint and a plate of scampi hairman takes Ramona to visit a stinky tramp with a comedy stick on beard who helpfully offers to tell her the full gory story of her hubbies house....

Now pay attention, here's the science part.

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The pen may be mightier than the
sword but this'll go further up your arse.



Coughing up a tasty bit of black lung the old man whispers thru' his fishy beard "...it all began in the year 1426..." as the screen goes all wibbly wobbly before coming to focus on a pointy chinned man in tights drinking cheap wine.

Grand Duke Garlini (for that is he) spends his days hanging around with that group of red hooded monks from earlier getting into all kinds of scrapes and mischief until one day he finds a naked gypsy running around his garden.

Doing what any mad Duke would do, he proceeds to rape the poor girl before asking her to marry him.

The local church, understandably annoyed by all these shenanigans decide to send a mysterious, black masked assassin to kill the Duke.

As you would.

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Insert caption mentioning breasts and sticking
things in people here
cos frankly I cannae be arsed.


After a primary school style sword fight, the assassin ends up with the duke's long blade wobbling scarily at his mouth (OK it's at his throat but that doesn't sound as rude).

Beggining for mercy whilst the demented Duke stands astride him laughing like a loon, Mr. Assassin sees his chance to stick him with his posioned ring before tossing him off (the balcony) and sticking a handy mace in him.

Ouch.

As was the law in the olden days, the assassin inherits the Duke's lands (as well as his gypsy wife) but before he can drag her off to the bedroom she lays down a curse on him and his descendants forever.

If this wasn't a big enough revelation it turns out that Ramona is apparently a descendant of the gypsy and it is her destiny to have revenge on Bob.

She buys a sword from a local armourer and heads back home....

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"Ayah! mah BCG!"


Will she behead her hubbie?

Will the fabled red monks do anything but stand about?

Who beheaded Lucille?

Is Ramona a ghost?

Why is Bob shagging the housekeeper?

One of these questions (if you can make it that far) may be answered by the movies end.

But don't hold your breath.

Gianni Martucci, director of the fantastic Naked Girl Killed in the Park, brings us this (very) loose remake of the Mario Bava classic Lisa And The Devil minus the suspense shocks and thrills.

Produced by an obviously feverish Fulci and Pino Buricchi (the man who gave us Intimate Crimes and Cindy's Love Games amongst other gems) The Red Monks maybe be tedious to the extreme with plot holes so big that you could comfortably reverse Eamon Holmes thru' them without touching the sides but ultimately it has a touch of the motorway pile up about it; you just can't stop watching. Just as you're about to consider topping yourself rather than sit thru' another second of this dodgily dubbed drivel, a pair of 70's breasts pop out of nowhere or a head rolls out of a hamper and suddenly you're transfixed again.

Before you know it you're hooked worse than a dirty junkie.

Recommended.

But beware.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

happy returns of the king.

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Jack Kirby would have been 90 (or was that 91?) today. Hail to the king.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

meat is murder.

Mondo Cannibale (AKA Cannibals, Barbarian Goddess and White Cannibal Queen amongst others. 1980)
Dir: Jess Franco.
Cast: Al Cliver, Sabrina Siani, Lina Romay, Robert Foster, Shirley Knight, Pamela Stanford and Olivier Mathot.

Photobucket

Where the natives are pleased to MEAT you!



Famous researcher of 'things' Dr. Jeremy Taylor (Euro-god Cliver, unfortunately for him being out-acted by his trademark beard), his scrummy wife Elisabeth (Stanford) and his young, pug faced daughter Lana (that wee girl from Zombie Lake!) are traveling along a treacherous stretch of the Amazon River (played in this instance by the coast of Spain) said to be inhabited by a tribe of bloodthirsty cannibals (fantastically essayed by a squad of tubby, bequiffed Frenchmen in kiddies facepaint).

No sooner has the salty boat captain finished spinning a lurid tale about these savages when a group of them sneak aboard his vessel and start slaughtering the crew before turning their lustful gaze toward Taylor's missis.

After a valium-tastic slo-mo feeding frenzy in which Cliver gazes into the distance manfully as the brutish savages eat his wife we suddenly find ourselves on the banks of a tiny garden fish pond where Taylor's daughter is lying unconscious (but still pug-faced).

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(multicoloured) shite in her mooth.


Scooping her into his arms like a rickety old dumper truck the toothless tribal chief (who looks uncannily like Max Wall) takes the young girl home and declares her a sacred white goddess before adopting her into the tribe, which is pretty lucky considering the alternative.

Taylor on the other hand is less fortunate seeing as he's quickly captured, has one of his arms chopped off and eaten in front of him before finally being trussed up like a big skinny (bearded) pig.

Before the tribe can get to work on the rest of him tho' he manages to escape into the undergrowth and is soon rescued by two men in too tight jeans driving a jeep.

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Caught wanking by your mum....again!

Ending up in a New York hospital with amnesia (and no shirts that sit right), he is nursed back to health by the buxom, bouncy lipped Ana (Romay billed here as Candy Coster which going by the amount of shite she's appeared in under her own name shows how truly awful this film is) a foxy doc who has spent the last 10 years sitting at his bedside trimming his beard occasionally.

Feeling much better (but unfortunately unable to return all the pairs of gloves that wellwishers have sent him), Taylor heads off to the world famous Shelton Foundation, backers of the original expedition in the hope of securing backing for a second trip into the jungle to find his daughter.

Unluckily for our hero it turns out that the foundations head Barbara (Knight) and her camp British boyfriend Charles ( Mathot, bless you) are more interested in taking the piss out of Taylor, accusing him of hiding his arm behind his back (hmmm...they have a point) and wearing a stick on beard.

Taylor leaving the office with a loud 'fuck you' decides to go to the Amazon anyway and with Ana in tow, goes about securing the services of a guide, however seeing as they only have about 60 pence to their name this proves a wee bit difficult.

Life is cheap down south but not that cheap.

Just as Taylor is about to give up and go home he runs into Charles and Barbara, who've come to South America with a group of posh pals in the hope of finding the one armed doc, you see they want to apologise for all their nastiness and have decided to bankroll his trip, provided their group of friends get to join in the fun.

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"Don't worry...he's armless!"

A grimly serious Taylor warns them that it'll be a dangerous journey into uncharted cannibal country, waving his stump around as proof but the drunken toffs just giggle and start packing their swimming trunks, wide brimmed hats and sunblock.

Heading out into the jungle (well, the local park) the party come across the folk (bits of them anyway) that rescued Taylor in the movies opening.

Now you or I may see this as a sign to turn back, but not Taylor and co. who continue further into the unknown, stopping only to adjust their lip gloss.

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Different shit, same smell.

It's not too long tho' (thank Christ) before the members of the expedition are being picked off and butchered one by one in particularly gruesome ways (well in slow motion whilst members of the crew throw offal around) by the bloodthirsty savages till only Taylor Ana and some disposable young guy (whose name escapes me) are left.

Captured and bound they're taken before the tribes whitey-hating leader Jeff Yakaké (Foster) and his harsh faced yet surprisingly pale skinned wife (Siani, 'star' of Fulci's Conquest).

Could this be Taylor's missing daughter?

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"I wanted to be a tiger!"


Whilst Ana is dragged off by the cannibals (sounds painful) Taylor has the idea of asking his daughter to untie him and his mate so that they can escape.

Her expression is one of either faint recollection or boredom but either way she sneaks out of her hut that night to free her dad who promptly slings her over his shoulder and legs it into the trees speedily pursued by his irate son in law and his pals.

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Watch out watch out....John Leslie's about.


Will Taylor, his pal and his daughter manage to escape from this tropical hell or will they be forced to partake in a post pub style fisticuffs match in a small stream?

Will Taylor shed even one solitary tear over Ana's death?

And will Siani ever change her slightly bemused expression?


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The West Bromwich Olympic
hopefuls go thru' their paces.



Also known by an obscene amount of alternate titles ranging from names like Barbarian Goddess to Mondo Cannibale (see how many more you can find dear reader there may be a prize!), Jess Franco's second foray into the world of the cannibal (his first was the sleaze-tastic 1973 'epic' Bare Breasted Countess) came about when producer Marius Lesoeur approached the sleaze guru with regards to him producing his own spin on the by now lucrative flesh eating film fad.

Casting cult idol and not to mention dirt cheap Cliver (with whom Franco would go on to make the classic 1980 film The Devil Hunter with) and his own missis should have meant that Franco had more cash left to put towards some breath taking special effects and lush locations but unfortunately (due in part to Lesoeur only managing to raise a budget of £75.81) this wasn't to be.

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Cliver: your mum would.


The usually top drawer Cliver sleepwalks thru' the movie, his 'severed' arm obviously hidden down his shirt as he struggles to hide his embarrassment as he is poked and prodded by the most bizarre ethnic mix of cannibals ever committed to celluloid. Chubby, pasty faced Frenchmen, slick haired Latinos and even a couple of Japanese folk fill out the tribes numbers, forced to jump about in tiny leather thongs and blackface.

But not even that can prepare you for the sight of a wooden topped Sabrina Siani, her face smeared in blue gloss paint, her nipples (only just) covered by her blonde mane and her (albeit) peachy arse exposed for all the world to see uncomfortably jerking from scene to scene like an anorexic Bambi on amphetamines.

Yes it really is a performance to remember.

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Same smell, bigger breasts.

The films one saving grace tho' is the always reliable Lina Romay in a role that actually allows her to act for a change as opposed to standing around with her kit off showing her frighteningly furry 70's bush to the world.

Which is one reason to see it I guess.