Unseen Terror 2014: Day 16

Struggling amateur photographer Leon Kaufman can't seem to catch a break with his job. His contractor feels that the shots he provides just aren't particularly captivating, insisting that Leon take more risks in order to capture the true feel and soul of the "The Big Apple." One evening, he saves a gorgeous woman from a gang assault, but the following morning, she is reported to be missing. Curious as to what has happened, Leon investigates, but comes across something much more horrific than he suspected: a serial killer who dwells in the New York Subway System, butchering his victims like cattle in the evening, but seemingly disappearing during the day.


The Midnight Meat Train is the first, and possibly only movie that I've had to contemplate throwing away during my first viewing. Mind you, it has nothing to do with the actual quality of the picture itself, but because of the now defunct Blockbuster Video selling me a DVD with unfixable scratches, thus rendering my copy nearly useless after the sixty six minute mark had approached. Thank goodness for internet streaming sites though, since Amazon Prime had this sucker available for rental, and only for $2.99 at that. Oh yeah, I'm supposed to be reviewing the movie, aren't I? Sorry about that.


Someone like myself tends to feel very hit-or-miss when it comes to Clive Barker adaptations these days. For every Hellraiser and Candyman that we've been blessed with in the past, we get something like Book Of Blood in return. I was aware of The Midnight Meat Train's existence, but for assorted reasons, I was never quite able to get around to watching it until six years after its initial release. Again, for assorted reasons, I wish that I had not waited to do so, since this is a fairly fun, if not moderately bleak (oh so shocking for a story by Clive Barker) work that is capably directed and shockingly gory. Well, at least by "bigger" horror movie standards.


Surprising me from the get-go was the recognizable cast. I knew all too well about Vinnie Jones playing the silent, mostly emotionless antagonist, but I didn't expect Bradley Cooper and Leslie Bibb to show up as members of the cast, with the former in the lead role as freelance Leon. Considering that this was filmed only a mere year before The Hangover exploded in popularity, thus ensuring that Cooper would likely never have to do a horror movie again, he looks much younger, but still shows off his acting chops rather well. The aforementioned Jones is pretty god damn good too, which may be due in part to him not having to utter a single line throughout most of the flick's running time. Some might say he was a little too good as Mahogany, but as long as it keeps him away from uttering lines like THIS in the future, then I'm absolutely 100% in favor of it. There's also bit parts from the likes of Ted Raimi (brother to Sam Raimi of Evil Dead fame and bit player in Xena: Warrior Princess), whose own demise on the train along with his two colleagues was one of the more brutal sequences I've seen so far on this year's blog, and MMA veteran Quinton "Rampage" Jackson, whose own segment is amusing enough to post below.

The technical side of the picture is nothing to scoff at either. Director Ryuhei Kitamura (Versus, Godzilla: Final Wars) is no slouch when it comes to taking a project that has the potential to fail and turning it around into something that is at least visually interesting to glance at. There's a certain dark glossiness to the film that makes you feel like you're in a very somber, unpleasant city where enjoyment of basic activities is sparse unless you're willing to sell yourself a little short and partake in some work that is beneath you. This almost crosses over into the territory of a "festival" movie though, and the decision to use computer-generated blood and gore for a good chunk of its bloodshed and manslaughter is a real disappointment. I feel like I've ranted about this way too many times already, but if you're already this involved and this passionate about a project like The Midnight Meat Train, would it have hurt you to spend a tad bit more on getting fake blood provided by practical effects companies? Heck, they aren't hard to come by, even in this day and age. It could have been worse though. Patrick Tatopoulos, who is most well known for being a collaborator of standout bellends such as Paul W.S. Anderson and Rolland Emmerich, was originally attached to direct this. *shudder*


With its final ten minutes, I could definitely see The Midnight Meat Train's conclusion (and to an extent, its epilogue), which shows a slight nod to the likes of H.P. Lovecraft, dividing a lot of viewers, leaving them firmly in either the "love it" or "loathe it" camp. Oddly enough, I think that it was all too fitting of a storyteller like Clive Barker to wrap it up the way that he did. Unlike some of his more infamous stories, I don't necessarily think that I would qualify this one as particularly frightening, nor would I place it in the category of his earlier works mentioned in the second paragraph above. However, it is worth a watch or two based on the fact that it never really bores you, keeping your attention on a fairly frequent basis due to its intriguing pursuit and researching of the villain, and of course, because of the gruesome murder scenes.



It might not be advisable to watch if you're a vegan though. Or even worse, it may turn you off of meat forever.



I kid of course. Maybe.



Tomorrow, we're going to keep on hacking and slashing, as we look at two different 1980s pictures in Pieces and Driller Killer!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 15

The townsfolk of Antonio Island, Oregon are on the verge of unveiling a set of new town statues, honoring the men who helped found their town in 1871. One of the gentlemen's descendants, fishing vessel owner Nick Castle, has recently welcomed back his girlfriend Elizabeth to the island after a six month absence. Everything seems fine at first, until a series of bizarre incidents start to occur, including a series of gruesome murders. Coupled with these is the presence of a mysterious, eerie fog. After discovering an old journal, Elizabeth begins to connect the events together, realizing that perhaps the Island's own forefathers may have returned, seeking vengeance for then-unknown reasons.

By the year 2005, horror icon John Carpenter had taken a small hiatus from filmmaking after his 2001 Science Fiction picture Ghosts of Mars bombed critically and financially. Though the man was not exactly done with involvement in the film industry, sticking with producing and/or writing credits on the likes of Halloween: Resurrection and a sequel to 1998's Vampires, the middle of the decade saw Carpenter-approved remakes of two of his lesser-known projects: The Fog and Assault of Precinct 13. Though the original 1980 version of the former had its fair share of fans, and is widely considered to be an overlooked movie in his own catalogue, the director was always vocally critical of the final product. So, in somewhat of a surprise, Carpenter and original Fog co-writer Debra Hill attached themselves to this re-imagining by overseeing, co-writing, and producing the whole ordeal while letting Stigmata main man Rupert Wainwright supervise and take a seat in the director's chair.

I'll be the first to admit that I don't think that the original version of The Fog is a masterpiece whatsoever, but it is pretty darn good considering that it was the man's project that followed up his masterpiece Halloween. So I hit play on this, skeptical beyond belief, but like most remakes I see these days, somewhat willing to give it a chance.

Three minutes in, a Fall Out Boy song begins to play and we get two young men with "cool" and "fresh" dialogue.

Jesus jumped up christ, if this is what John Carpenter had originally envisioned and felt was ultimately what he wanted out of his original product, then that is the scariest part of all and makes me question his level of sanity. Speaking of Fall Out Boy, the soundtrack to 2005's version of The Fog, which also consists of artists like Petey Pablo and OK Go (yeah, those will sure help set a mood and build tension), along with hit-or-miss composer Graeme Revell, is the least of this flick's problems. For starters, there's the cast. At the risk of angering some of my friends, Maggie Grace just isn't a good substitute for Jamie Lee Curtis. In fact, she's just downright awful in most pictures that she's attached to, and certainly not powerful or skilled enough to carry anything of this caliber. Smallville alumni Tom Welling is absolutely wasted too, and is clearly there to collect a paycheck during his downtime of portraying Superman on the WB. The recasting that I was most optimistic for was Selma Blair, taking over the role of Adrienne Barbeau's disc jockey from the original. She does a somewhat okay job with what she has to work with, but portrays the role of Stevie with too much dryness for the most part, and doesn't carry the same weight or distinctive voice that the former 1980s sex symbol possessed. After the cast, another problem is the pacing and just plain inactiveness of Hill, Carpenter, and relative unknown Cooper Layne's (whose only other screenwriting is noted dud The Core) new screenplay. Though they're trying to flesh out the story more as opposed to the original, they forget to pack in the scares, so we're left to rely upon cheap jump scare after cheap jump scare. Again, this fails to help set a spooky tone, resulting in a motion picture that feels more like a cure for insomnia or a modern throwaway theatrical release rather than an effective, chilling ghost story. Basically, it's incredibly, agonizingly boring.

There is absolutely nothing worth praising or recommending here. Not even a brief scene of Selma Blair in her panties cleaning a brush in the sink. This is the absolute definition of a colossal misfire, and all too deserving of the 4% that it currently holds on pages such as Rottentomatoes.com (and it sits in the bottom one hundred on that website). I counted a whopping six times that I was ever so close to stopping this and just deciding to skip ahead to tomorrow's pick instead. Don't waste your time, don't even bat an eye at it, and just forget that it exists.

No, seriously, don't bother. It even doesn't deserve a clever outro.

Tomorrow, the director of Versus and Godzilla: Final Wars attempts to lift my spirits with The Midnight Meat Train!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 14

A mere eight months after World War II has ended, the peaceful and quaint community of Texarkana is suddenly shaken up by the presence of a hooded, silent killer. At first, he attacks a young couple at a lovers' lane, sending them to the hospital with gashes, bite marks, and multiple injuries. The local police chief suggests warning youths to stay away from lonely roads and areas, but when another pair is discovered by a local deputy, this time slain and lying in the woods, the force comes to the conclusion that they will need outside assistance. With that, a famous Texas Criminal Investigator is brought in, and the crew begins their search for a man that one person simply dubs "a phantom."


Director Charles Pierce's The Town That Dreaded Sundown has been on my "to watch" list for what feels like an eternity. The influential proto-slasher picture, based loosely on a true story that continues to haunt the small area of Texarkana, has been sited as a notable influence on multiple pictures in the horror field, including Friday the 13th Part 2, wherein Jason Voorhees dawns a sack to wear over his head before switching over to his infamous goalie's mask in the later sequels. There's even a remake/sequel on the way from Orion Pictures, which will hit select theaters and On-Demand channels around the same time. Outside of a Blu-Ray purchase, I was ready to give up hope that there would ever be a way of viewing this cult classic by not spending more than twenty dollars. Suddenly, it popped up on Netflix Instant Streaming. Huzzah! After four years of doing this marathon, I was finally ready to dive in.


And….*takes deep breath*….I was pretty disappointed by it.

Before my elitist friends and/or readers chew my head off similarly to how the Phantom killer reportedly chewed on one of his own victim's body parts, let me explain and try to justify my own opinion (which is just that). I think that The Town That Dreaded Sundown is competently made, well-directed for the most part, and hides its low budget rather well. Heck, the performances from leads Andrew Prine and Ben Johnson are actually quite good, as is a small role that Ms. Dawn Wells of Gilligan's Island fame takes part in. At least two of the scenes involving our mysterious murderer stalking and ultimately ending the lives of his victims are close to being classified as creepy.


What swayed me to the side of ultimately disliking the film came down to its awkward setup and execution. I was hoping that the decision to cast a narrator for The Town That Dreaded Sundown was only going to be a temporary and one-time use. Instead, Vern Stierman's voiceover pops in way more often than I believe he should have, making the picture feel like a compilation of an afternoon television show, or worse yet, a History Channel special involving better actors and actresses. To call it heavy on exposition is being kind. There's also the incredibly bizarre choice of throwing in far too many comedic elements. I'm sure that these were supposed to make the film feel more grounded, and keep the audience's attention intact, but for the most part, they feel so out-of-place and take you out of what's going on so often, that it kills the possibility of setting up a real mood or atmosphere (a sequence involving the police having to dress in drag while waiting for the Phantom's next strike is just too weird to be funny). The poor lighting also doesn't help matters, making every stabbing, shooting, and beating nearly impossible to see, and I was honestly perplexed every now and then as to whether anybody was even being hurt by this masked madman.


Maybe I was misled into thinking that The Town That Dreaded Sundown was going to be a completely different film than what it was. Back in the day, I assumed that it would be supernatural-based, which it most certainly wasn't. After glancing at the poster (you can thank the tagline for essentially giving away the ending), I also assumed that it would be much bloodier and nastier. When neither of these turned out to be true, I was still willing to go with the flow and hope to find a new favorite flick to add to my future collection. But even after all was said and done, I think the movie just never quite lived up to its true potential. If it was supposed to pique my interest in the case of the "Moonlight Murders," then it did an average job at it. I wouldn't be opposed to watching this aforementioned remake/sequel coming out within one day from the time of my review being posted (I can assure you, I'll be watching more unnecessary sequels and remakes sooner than you can imagine), but I don't know what my expectations will be.



However, I do know that if it doesn't involve death by trombone stabbing, then I'm giving it all of my fingers down.



Speaking of remakes, tomorrow I'm taking an even bigger, deeper breath, and journeying into 2005's remake of John Carpenter's The Fog!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 13

Anthropologist Bill Nugent awakens in a hospital bed, injured and mutilated via seemingly unknown means. An investigator and his own doctors question the professor as to the whereabouts of five of his most prestigious students, all of whom have been missing for days. Nugent begins to discuss how and why things have seemingly gone awry, and it all begins with female student Carla asking to accompany the instructor and his pupils on an expedition to Carlson's Landing, where she hopes that they will find the culprit behind her own father's murder: the folklore legend known only as "Bigfoot."


Boy, I sure know how to pick 'em sometimes. 1980's rather poor-looking Sasquatch massacre known as Night of the Demon (no relation whatsoever to the pluralized film released eight years later) is a really outlandish and all-around strange excess in violence and absurdity. It's received a few odd releases here and there, and can be most commonly found in one of those assorted horror movie collections on DVD stands everywhere. You all know which ones I'm talking about, since the titles usually resemble something like *insert random number* plus *insert random adjective* plus horror/terror. Surprisingly, it can also be found on streaming sites such as Amazon Prime, which is where I viewed it.


Like a few select films that I've discussed before, director James Wasson's splatter flick was classified as a "video nasty" upon its release, and subsequently banned until 1994. I guess the British Board of Film Classification are incredibly touchy people, and most likely fearful of how powerful of an influence motion pictures can have on the youth of England. Mind you, this idea is archaic and just plain idiotic, but I digress. That being said, it is far more believable that Night of the Demon was banned in the U.K. rather than something so poor such as Don't Go In The Woods. The gore and bloodshed is fairly detestable and outrageous, shocking you no matter when and where you shall decide to watch it. Without giving every possible type of kill away, there are scenes of emasculation, intestines being removed, and impalement. Of course, a majority of the film looks like it was made for about the cost of a three course meal, and Bigfoot himself resembles the protagonist from the Toho-produced Frankenstein Conquers the World, so if you're looking for Tom Savini or Rob Bottin-levels of artistry, then you may be slightly disappointed.


Accompanying this grotesqueness are some "fresh off of the street" actors and actresses. I don't recall many of them being given names outside of a female plot device introduced later on, and even then it doesn't matter a great deal since we all know what is coming after sitting through the first two minutes of the movie. Aside from these young meatbags, there is also the most bizarre and out-of-place soundtrack that I think I've ever heard in any horror film. Actually, scratch that. I'll state that it is the most out-of-place soundtrack that I've heard in ANY film. There's a heavy emphasis on wannabe psychedelic tunes (also felt in the way that it was shot) and TV theme songs that were likely thrown away and discovered by composer Dennis McCarthy, who would go on to score Star Trek: Generations and the movie iteration of McHale's Navy. I know of the old "you have to start somewhere" spiel, but I'm not 100% sure that those can accurately be called upgrades.


This is the furthest thing from a good, or even well-made picture. In fact, had it not been for the shocking moments of brutality and the random shots of nudity every now and then, it could have been featured on Mystery Science Theater 3000 back in the day. If you even decided to remake the picture in today's day and age, I wouldn't object, since it would most likely be given an actual budget and the backing of a bigger studio. However, because of the latter observations, I can still warrant giving it a slight, albeit very cautious recommendation to fans of trashy, low-budget terror.



And no, it didn't convince me that Bigfoot is real. But it did convince me that he can somehow conceive children with human women.



Tomorrow, I forsake the title of my next screening and view The Town That Dreaded Sundown in the daylight!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 12

The time is 1630 Moldavia. Asa Vajda and her admirer Javuto have been sentenced to death by the former's own brother, convicted of the crimes of witchcraft. Before she is burned at the stake, Asa swears vengeance, smiting and cursing the descendants of her brother. Two hundred years later, through accidental tampering on the part of two traveling physicians, the witch and her servant return, murdering and hypnotizing innocent men in order to assist with Asa's ultimate goal: possessing the body of her heir apparent, thus gaining immortality.


I'm not quite sure what I can say about Black Sunday (known in some circles as the equally awesome-sounding The Mask Of Satan) that hasn't already been uttered or written by nearly every horror publication, connoisseur, fan, and general lover of cinema. It is the fault of nobody but myself for sleeping on this one for so long, especially when you consider that this picture, and Italian pioneer Mario Bava in general (I've previously reviewed his anthology picture Black Sabbath), played a big part in influencing future filmmaker kingpins such as Joe Dante (Gremlins, The Howling) and Martin Scorsese (no introduction needed).


For starters, this isn't a standard "older" horror movie as some people tend to identify them now. At the time, Black Sunday was quite macabre, and even a bit on the disturbing side. Though released in 1960, it took eight full years for it to find a theatrical release in the United Kingdom, given that censors were quite mortified with its imagery and shocking amount of violence (the "death mask" scene at the beginning is something that drew me to the picture in the first place, and it still looks awesomely sadistic). I am absolutely and completely against movie censorship, but it wasn't hard to see why certain individuals were so antsy about releasing this to the general public. When Asa is unearthed from her casket by our protagonists, there are several different bugs and arachnids crawling out from her eye sockets. Showing that today would conjure up just as many gags and shrieks as I'm sure it did back then. This morbidity also makes you think: when you consider the time period, Bava's foray into stardom occurred right after the "campy" horror/science fiction wave of the 1950s was dying down, where we would be receiving pictures like The Giant Gila Monster and The Tingler every few weeks or so. No disrespect to those two movies, or any others like it, but I feel like if through some odd means, you had transported some of the pickier or snobbier horror fans from today into a theater back then, sitting through multiple films in that sub-genre would have become incredibly tiresome, and they would have been craving for something like Black Sunday to finally come along and change things drastically.


The look of Bava's first "official" directorial debut is gothic, bleak, and all-around eerie, setting the tone for the horrors and murders that are to come. I know that I often speak highly of how much I adore good lighting and cinematography, but I honestly don't think anything on this year's list will be able to match this movie's techniques and captivating mood. Speaking of captivating, this was also my first introduction to the lovely English actress Barbara Steele, whose very distinctive-looking face and gaze are seen in essentially every promotional shot and poster for the flick. Gushing over actors or actresses isn't usually my thing or forte for a marathon such as this, as I prefer to stick to the quality of the motion picture itself, but the woman is instantly memorable and those large eyes and ravishing dark hair won't be leaving your mind for quite some time. She's definitely earned the right to be called a horror icon, even if she is unfortunately dubbed here (as is the rest of the cast. It's an Italian production after all).


You know that you've made a good choice when a feature only takes about twenty to thirty minutes in order for you to come very close to loving it. I legitimately stopped jotting down notes for this review around the halfway mark, just so that I could focus on Black Sunday's wonderful imagery and embrace the feel of the entire experience. This also could potentially explain why my review this time around feels more like fanboy masturbation rather than proper critiquing and analyzing, but hey, it's pretty late and I never claimed to be a professional. At least not yet. But either way, if you're interested in a dark, still somewhat creepy old Italian horror picture, go watch this one. It's respectable and different filmmaking at its finest.



My apologies, I feel as if there's nothing clever to say here this time around. If you ask me, The Mask Of Satan is a cooler title though.



Tomorrow, I'm partaking in my first attempt to find the elusive Bigfoot, but I might find Night Of The Demon instead!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 11

Yes yes, I'm a day late on posting these. When one is attempting to celebrate the beginning of their 29th birthday, you tend to forget certain obligations. But I'm going to double up today, and my review for Day 12's picture shall be up within a few hours.

Raph and Max are your typical guns-for-hire, doing dirty jobs for the right amount of money, and only under the right circumstances. Outside of their rather busy work schedule, Raph is attempting to fix a marriage on the brink of divorce, and the fact that he almost forgets his own son's birthday isn't helping matters. While out and about, the two begin searching for a last minute gift, but soon receive orders to pull off a routine hit. The operation proves to be anything but basic, however, and the men find themselves holed up in a secluded area, grouped together with complete strangers and fighting for their lives against infected human beings.


So, this is a thing that exists. I had always assumed that whenever casting companies decided to let professional wrestlers take the lead, they'd attempt to pick out the biggest and/or most recognizable name that they could find. Last year, that thought was shattered following the release (plus my own review) of the fairly mediocre The Call, co-starring the modern king of "Why are you still employed?," Mr. David Otunga. During a random trip to the last Blockbuster Video that I'll likely ever see, I stumbled across Overtime, with legendary low-card standout Al Snow in the lead, and figured that for the cost of one whole American dollar, I'd give it a whirl.


From the get go, you can tell that Overtime has nothing but good intentions, wanting to be a mixture of Jingle All The Way and From Dusk Til Dawn (no, you didn't read that wrong). The only problem is that this film just seems to be trying a little too hard to be "cool" or "fun." Some of the more memorable horror-comedies in recent years didn't have to try hard per se, but the overabundance of cursing and exposition in Overtime shines brighter than a spotlight on the back of "Stone Cold" Steve Austin's head. Snow and his partner John Wells at least look like they were having a ball during filming though, as does the flick's villain, who is channeling her inner Jeremy Irons from the infamously terrible Dungeons and Dragons movie released in the year 2000.

There isn't anything necessarily terrible in Overtime, and heck, there are times when it's genuinely funny (inexplicably, any joke revolving around what kind of cake to get for a birthday party made me chuckle), but it reminded me too much of one of those movies that you would have seen collecting dust on the shelf of a video store, or worse yet, sitting in a pile of unsold copies near the checkout lane. I'm honest-to-god shocked that this took NINE WHOLE MONTHS to shoot, especially when you consider how cheap the movie can look during particular moments and with how not-so-subtle some of the pop culture jokes can be. For example, Snow searches for the hottest video game system, the YBox 720, to buy for his son. Don't even bother to groan, I did it for you in spades. Admittedly, I would have never even batted an eye towards this surprisingly short project (it says eighty one minutes on the back, but it's realistically seventy) had the six time WWF hardcore champion not been attached to it. But hey, you could do much, much worse than sit through this. For instance, you could watch Al Snow wrestle in 1999's now-infamous "Kennel From Hell" match.



Yeah, too easy of a shot. I think I'll let Mick Foley stick to the jokes in this case.

Hoping that it will reduce their prison sentences by an entire month, several troublemakers and hoodlums are given a temporary leave of absence in order to help clean up a vacated and dilapidated hotel. Unbeknownst to the assorted group of folks is that while they work, they are secretly being watched and stalked by a silent, disturbed psychopath. When the reclusive murderer, known only as Jacob Goodnight, starts to slaughter them one by one, the remaining youngsters must gather and find a way to stop this maniac, or to at least escape the premises with their lives.


If that description for 2006's See No Evil is a little too by-the-numbers for any of you readers, then I can only assure you that it was the best that I could come up with. Writer Dan Madigan (of WWF/E SmackDown fame) and former pornography director Gregory Dark aren't trying to break new ground with this fairly formulaic motion picture, but man, could they have at least tried to do something out of the ordinary? Speaking of Dark, I am a little amazed, if not slightly bothered, to see a good amount of former adult film directors show up in the former half of this year's countdown. It's pure coincidence. I hope.


There really isn't much that I can disclose about See No Evil, solely because you've seen everything it has to offer already. Let me count the ways: generic hot girls, go-to shower scene, generic douchebags, fairly decent gore and kills, predictable twist towards the end, slight attempt at humanizing the killer, and a washed-out look throughout. Perhaps the only thing that I can disclose is something that I feel is only a problem long-time wrestling fans such as myself will have: Kane (real name Glenn Jacobs), who plays the often stone-faced, eyeball-obsessed Jacob Goodnight, just isn't scary whatsoever. I imagine that should you have no connection or interest in the world of sports entertainment, you may find him to be slightly disturbing, but it's hard for the small part of the audience that IS crossing over from the WWE universe to even care. We've seen this man get stuck in some absolutely horrendous feuds since the character's debut in 1997, so it's pretty damn hard to suspend our disbelief. Yes, he's tall and can grimace awfully well when he needs to, but I can't take him seriously when I've seen skits like THIS over the past few years.


See No Evil made me slightly depressed. Mind you, it isn't because it's an emotionally powerful film, or because you sympathize with any personality in the cast, but because of discovering that it was surprisingly successful at the box office and on home video. True, WWE Studios didn't make an obscene amount of money from its performance, but the movie still over-performed when you consider how many horror and wrestling fans expected it to bomb rather hard. The fact that superior, more well-developed projects such as Behind The Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon or Trick 'R Treat have to revel in obscurity, struggling to get a sequel off of the ground or even to make back its full budget, is just a crying shame. Meanwhile, this basic slasher picture, while not entirely deserving of the 8% rating that it currently holds on RottenTomatoes.com, is getting a sequel with bigger stars (Danielle Harris, Katharine Isabelle) and promising directors (Jen and Sylvia Soska) attached to it. It just doesn't seem particularly fair to me.



Wait, Trick 'R Treat IS getting a sequel? Oh. Well, at the end of the day, this movie is still pretty disposable.



Coming up very soon, we're heading way, way back to the 1960s and into the land of Mario Bava with Black Sunday!

Unseen Terror 2014: Day 10

Unconfident and overly stressed, Keiko, the daughter of a world famous chef, runs from her father after feeling that she can not deal with his strict training regime on how to better her preparation of dishes. Soon thereafter, she finds herself working in a rural hotel doing menial work, constantly bullied and maligned by her superiors and the frequenting guests. When the president of a pharmaceutical company and his entourage stop in for dinner, a former researcher for the man also decides to pay a visit, vowing revenge for his ousting years prior. This retribution comes in the form of a serum designed to bring dead material back to life.


Do you remember what I said about select motion pictures being immune to criticism and legitimate reviews? Well, this statement can be applied to nearly every work spearheaded by eccentric Japanese oddball (and former adult movie director) Noboru Iguchi. Outside of the porn industry, his filmography primarily consists of works that are clearly not meant to be taken seriously, and mean to just entertain its audiences through sheer insanity. In that sense, works such as The Machine Girl and his horror-comedy Dead Sushi are closer to foreign versions of Troma Entertainment movies. And that's exactly what the latter does in wonderfully wacky fashion.


And in terms of what does this certain Japanese picture help stand out and earn the definition of being called "wacky?" For starters, before the carnage kicks in (and even during it), we're treated to several legitimate fight sequences between our head chef and several antagonists that aren't cooked with rice or fish. These scenes are remarkably well-choreographed when you consider that this is supposed to be a cheap, dumb little splatter picture. Though they may hail from different countries, it wouldn't surprise me whatsoever if Iguchi-san is secretly a fan of Stephen Chow or Jackie Chan, since every battle feels as authentically funny as it does look cool. Oh, I did say cheap above, did I not? Well, unlike a lot of other pieces in this field, Dead Sushi's lackluster CGI and often cheap-looking stop motion animation often make up part of its charm.


In between this crazed food frenzy (I know, I know), there is almost a heart beating underneath. Female chef Keiko's plight and frustrations with never being able to live up to expectations from her family are completely identifiable, if not a tad bit exaggerated when you see the training that she has to go through in order to become a true expert at constructing the cuisine (if this is how it's actually done, then I am very sorry). Before you get too easily led astray, the narrative doesn't forget about your wants and needs, and gives us moments such as a man eating a (literally) spiked tuna roll and another person's skin being torn from both sides of his face by a squid and tempura roll. Director Iguchi seems completely intent on not just filling in the blanks with a few gross or over-the-top pieces, but with one-upping himself after every few minutes or so. It makes for charming stuff, though it does begin to run out of steam towards the climax. It goes into full blown "anime" mode, and while as equally entertaining (if not a bit asinine), it feels like taking several shots of espresso after coming down from a very drunken, painful high.


During one scene involving the intercourse of two pieces of sushi which produces a mass explosion of sushi "babies," one survivor manages to utter the sentence "Things have reached the point where they don't make sense!" If that isn't this movie to a tee, then I don't know what is. It will either convince you to start living a vegan lifestyle, or make you more hungry for seafood than you've ever been in your entire life. After watching an extra on the DVD, wherein a tiny Austin, Texas crowd gathered at the yearly Fantastic Fest for a sushi-eating contest involving often-maligned (and quite frankly disgusting) ingredients, I'm willing to bet it could be an odd mixture of both. Still, it's watchable, and a lot of fun for those with a demented mind and a big group of likeminded friends.



After all, anything with a piece of egg salad sushi that sings and spits acid has to be worth at least a quick glance.

Alcoholic police officer Ciaran O'Shea is unhappy with his newly assigned partner Ms. Lisa Nolan, a workhorse who has transferred to his remote Irish island. After receiving a distress call about numerous whale corpses having washed ashore, and later with the disappearance of numerous townsfolk, the Gardai, alongside an English marine ecologist, discover the culprits of these attacks: giant blood-sucking beasts that have emerged from the sea. Whilst dealing with the monsters and wondering how to protect the island, the team come to a rather peculiar conclusion thanks to the "town drunk" on how to fend off and repel these invaders, and it may involve mass consumption of a familiar substance.


Speaking of taking shots, if Dead Sushi was today's selection for dinner, then Ireland's Grabbers serves as a fairly nice dessert. No, wait, it would be more appropriate to call this a strong pint or three to go along with your meal. I first became aware of this oddball horror-comedy thanks to the now-defunct, brilliant, and sorely missed Spill.com. A mention of this being the foreign equivalent to the 1990 monster flick Tremors caught my attention almost instantly, though I've heard that statement more times than I've ever cared to. True, that also drew me to a movie I like and now own in The Burrowers, but in the end, I feel that I will forever be a natural skeptic.


Even to the blind and/or deaf populace, it's fairly obvious that Grabbers was strongly influenced by Tremors, and unabashedly more so than the American-made The Burrowers ever was. It wears its adoration for the cult movie on both sleeves, and don't be offended if you can pinpoint specific scenes that were structured to be eerily similar to the franchise that introduced us to the underground creatures dubbed "Graboids." Hell, even the nickname given to the beasts is similar! But as I've said before, this isn't a ripoff as much as it is a love letter. Helping out is the recollection that the Irish possess a very underrated (and often unappreciated) sense of humor. Because of this, and I'm going to sound just a wee bit blasphemous, I actually found Grabbers to be slightly funnier than its forefather. *gasp*


Cast-wise, there aren't as many people that you'd have to worry about caring for since most of the film focuses on the duo of Ruth Bradley and Richard Coyle (who could be mistaken for Andy Serkis in another life). The latter doesn't lack any wit or intelligence, even if he is often mistaken as just a typical, sad drunk who lost most of what made him happy in life. His partner, the lovely Ruth Bradley, is fairly plain jane until the time comes for her to partake in drinking (around the latter half of its running time), thus breaking her free from a life of sobriety. After that, many of the movie's best and more memorably hilarious lines come from her slurring, silly childish charm. Don't worry though, because despite the fact that it is clearly stated that beer and whiskey help stave off any harm from these tentacled nightmares (don't get angry, it's in the bloody description box on Netflix), I'm almost certain that this movie does not encourage rampant drinking or alcoholism.


My gosh does it encourage wanting a baby grabber toy though. Well, that's what I came away with. Mind you, I don't care to own the real thing, since they'll try to feast on you and suck your blood. But a plush toy sure would be grand. Oh crap, I got sidetracked for a moment there. Well, erm, where was I? Ah yes. Grabbers certainly isn't going to go down as a classic by any means, but it's the furthest thing from bollocks and I could see some of the more uptight modern horror fans (the ones who claim that there's nothing good out there anymore but aren't looking hard enough) enjoying it too. Jon Wright's alcoholic monster mash makes for a jolly good time considering how much was done well with a paltry budget.



And perhaps I'm biased, but any motion picture that suggests feeding a priest to a monster because "unless it eats shit, it'll choke to death" gets an automatic three stars from me.



Tomorrow, it's time to enter into a two-on-one match with wrestling-themed horror films Overtime and See No Evil!