Unseen Terror 2018: Day 10

The space shuttle Churchill is investigating a mysterious ship found within the coma of Halley's Comet. Once inside, the crew discover not just hundreds of dead bat-like creatures, but three naked humanoid bodies, who seem to be in suspended animation. They gather the specimens and plan to head back to earth, but contact is lost during their return journey. As a rescue mission is launched, the Churchill returns to our planet, but while the ship is severely damaged, the three pods containing the bodies are in perfect condition. They are taken to a research center in London, and after an autopsy is attempted on the lone female of the trio, she awakens and completely drains the life from her would-be coroner. Escaping the facility, she sets out in search of goodness knows what, while those left in shock find that her victims may not necessarily stay dead after she has absorbed their essence.



Well, seeing as how I'm only one hour removed from turning thirty-three, I figured that if I was going to close out the final hours of being thirty-two, it should be with a bigger picture from the year that I was born. Plus, according to the wonderful cesspool known as the internet, the number one movie in the world during the day of my birth was Commando, which is the furthest thing from a horror movie and something that is disqualified from my marathon. Perhaps that will be saved for another day.


Prior to his passing, Tobe Hooper had been quite vocal about his love and passion that was put into Lifeforce, which at the time took quite a beating from critics and some fans. Too weird to be properly marketed, yet nowhere near as gratuitous as the slasher pictures that dominated the box office, it's considered to be a bit of an anomaly amongst fans of horror/science fiction hybrids. After finishing it up, I think that while it's very easy to understand why people have been very critical of the final product, it's also makes for one heck of a fun ride if you know what you're in store for. Doing some research for this review, I discovered that Lifeforce was one of three motion pictures that Tobe Hooper was attached to direct after signing a three picture deal with Cannon Films. Even more surprising was the revelation that Dan O'Bannon, who wrote the screenplay for Alien and The Return of the Living Dead, was one of two individuals who put pen to paper for this project and in charge of reworking/retooling the science fiction novel The Space Vampires (I'll never badmouth romance authors for their titles again) for the big screen. The results are a very kooky, often-times dumb, but altogether entertaining flick.


Most of what drives Lifeforce is the idea of style over substance, because when you chip away the very appealing images and set pieces, the story is padded out by a bit too much exposition. There are a lot of moments that could have the audience asking why they chose to explain things that previously occurred in great retail rather than, I don't know, show it, but those moments are occasionally followed up by something strange that takes you by complete surprise (ex: a man running into a prison cell and exploding into sand). While we're on the subject of that, the first half of Lifeforce sports some of the more fascinating visuals that I've seen during this year's Unseen Terror. It's quite apparent that this is where most of O'Bannon's best ideas were set in motion, because they feature events that I'm certain are most of what the fanbase gushes over. People turn into dried-up husks, light shines down from the heavens, giant bat creatures pop up, and actress Mathilda May does her best Rogue from X-Men impression to name a few. They recall pictures of yesteryear like the aforementioned Alien, but with enough of their own identity to avoid being accused of plagiarism.


Cast-wise everyone is perfectly fine, though Peter Firth (Spooks) does slip into overacting mode once in a blue moon. French actress Mathilda May manages to say so much without speaking for a large chunk of her role, and her body language and cold, yet oddly welcoming demeanor feels like what the filmmakers behind Terminator 3 wish they could have accomplished with their antagonist. It's somewhat like a precursor to what actresses such as Olwen Catherine Kelly were able to do in flicks like the excellent The Autopsy of Jane Doe. Steve Railsback is one of the lone American performers found in Lifeforce, but has easily the most compelling and important arc. His confusion, fear, and subtle interest with all of the events that surround him help elevate this movie more than most would expect him to. But oof, as long as we all live, nobody should ever ask the man to take part in any flicks that feature "hypnotizing" again. As the cherry on top, Sir Patrick Stewart (yes, the very same) has a bit part as the manager of a psychiatric hospital, and I always welcome the chance to see him let his guard down and have some fun in a "B" movie.


Lifeforce is far from a perfect flick and is certifiably insane, but it's very watchable. Sporting a very unique take on vampirism (name another "bloodsuckers in outer space" flick from the 80s please), some rad visuals, and a storyline that just gets progressively stranger as time goes by, it's the perfect film to put on in the background at your next Halloween party or whenever you just want another crazed SciFi/Horror flick for your own monthly marathon. As of this writing, it's available for free on both STARZ's On-Demand service and Amazon Prime. If you're feeling a bit more dangerous however, there's a rather cheap Blu-ray out from Scream! Factory, and it features two different cuts of the picture, as well as a plethora of extras.



Gotta wonder if it contains Mathilda May's phone number though......hey, I might as well TRY....




Tomorrow, it's my god damn birthday, and I'll review whatever the hell I want to. I think I'm feeling something Henenlotter...

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 25

Sent by her father to an all-girls academy in Switzerland, young Jennifer Corvino arrives in the midst of a series of grisly murders that have been occurring throughout the area. While sleepwalking one evening, she witnesses such an event herself, flees, and ends finding herself lost in the nearby woods. Thankfully, she is saved by the animal assistant of a kindly entomologist named John McGregor, who notices Jennifer's special interactions that she seems to have with an assortment of insects. Believing her to have some sort of psychic connection with the creatures, he keeps the thought in mind as Jennifer returns back to where stays. After an EEG seemingly proves to be useless, the string homicides continue to pile up, and John realizes that Jennifer's secret gift may prove to be a useful tactic in tracking down the psychopath that is responsible.



Well, I'd like to think that during this last week leading up to the big, bad day that we of little faith love and adore, I should try to sneak in as much consistency as possible. So, why not something from Italian horror giant Dario Argento? Debate in the community always runs rampant over if some filmmaking greats were "overrated" or had a more questionable filmography than one believes, but nearly everyone out there can agree on the master of projects like Suspiria deserving all the praise in the world for his beautifully twisted approach towards foreign cinema. Plus, and forgive me for the spoilers, this won't be the first time that he'll make an appearance on here.


Other than sporting one heck of a weird premise, Phenomena (initially edited and released in the U.S. as Creepers) is filled with a very fascinating list of performers, both in front of the camera and behind it. Making her third appearance on the big screen is a very young Jennifer Connelly, who would land a breakout role in cult favorite Labyrinth only one year after this film dropped. It isn't hard to see the star potential in the (then) fourteen-year-old actress, as she does a terrific job with a character that would normally be laughed or scoffed at in this day and age. I can't help but wonder if some random stranger has ever approached her on the street before, asking if she can speak to their pet praying mantis or rhinoceros beetle (I imagine the response would be akin to "he says you're an asshole"). The extremely underrated Donald Pleasence (Halloween, You Only Live Twice) pops up here and there as Jennifer's confidant and ally, whose own primary companion prior to their first interaction is a pet chimpanzee named Inga. Unsurprisingly, the former turns in a very solid performance himself, though one wishes that he received a tad bit more screen time. Aside from that, a majority of the cast in this Italian-based production make the conscious decision to dub over their own voices with very mixed results. Outside of their body language, it can be a tad bit difficult to properly review their own portrayals. Personally, I'm always intrigued in tracking down original audio tracks for films that do not originate from the states (no matter the genre), so that may be worth purchasing in the near future.


In concerns to the aforementioned material and list of names that are not physically featured on screen, there is quite a bit to praise here. A brief glance at Phenomena's soundtrack is enough to get one excited, as it features not just Italian composing legends Goblin (heard throughout previous entry Contamination), but choice cuts from notable heavy metal acts like Iron Maiden and Motorhead. There are multiple uses and snippets of the former's track from Powerslave titled "Flash of the Blade" that play whenever a young girl is in serious danger or being pursued; had the vocals not kicked in, the effect of fear and dread would have been absolute bliss. Letting the full song play was a bit of an odd choice, but perhaps they thought that "Transylvania" or "Remember Tomorrow" were too old to use at that point. Thankfully, Goblin's absolutely awesome score is on point: it is brilliantly suspenseful, exciting, and all too fitting of the time period that this takes place during. Its crafting goes along rather well with how neat-looking Phenomena appears to the watcher's eye. Even with the less-than-stellar print that I stumbled across online, the movie is shot very well, sporting some solid lighting, cinematography, and good use of colors. Outside of that, the flick is surprisingly quite brutal and grotesque at times, though serious fanatics who are obsessed with solely bloodshed may find themselves a little disappointed until the final, absolutely insane third act kicks in. I hate to steal a line from someone like Eli Roth, but the Italians most assuredly know how to the put the "gore" in "gorgeous."


Movies like Phenomena are a rare treat during marathons such as these. It's a very ambitious, peculiar, and all-around unique piece of cinema. The arguments that horror can never be viewed as art, or that nothing great has come out past a certain point of a certain decade have always flabbergasted me, and though I wouldn't call it a perfect picture by any means, it is highly recommended for those who are seeking out something that deviates a bit from the norm (and is reportedly the personal favorite of its own director, who even includes references to his own strange childhood in the pages of the script). Sadly, tracking down an inexpensive copy of this Argento release can be a bit tricky, as the DVD is out of print, and a Blu-Ray release from the reputable Arrow Video was only available as an import (it goes for quite a few dollars now too). Still, if you don't mind viewing a copy with questionable picture quality, it's always available here on YouTube. And if that link goes down, perhaps waiting patiently for a re-release of the aforementioned disc formats is a good option as well.



On a (sort of) related note, I must apologize for the slight delay. Even with the hours thankfully piling up at my job, I promise that this won't become a regular habit. And besides, at least I'm talking about some works from more reputable directors for a change.




Speaking of that, tomorrow (today?), we see an appearance from Wes Craven on here, and I think you'd be...."amish" to skip this one.......

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 2

In feudal Korea, several groups of peasants live in fear of a greedy king, who seems to benefit from starving residents while taking all metallic goods and tools from them in the hopes that it can help expand his own army. During one particular conflict, a young man named Inde is captured and sent to jail, where he sees that his future father-in-law, a well-respected blacksmith named Takse, has also been imprisoned due to resisting these requirements. Over the course of several weeks, the elder becomes ill, and as he draws his final breath, he crafts a small figure made from rice and clay, beseeching that someone or something will listen to his pleas to save the village from this tyrannical, ruthless madman. It doesn't take long, however, for his requests to be realized. The next day, his creation has sprung to life. The miniature monster, nicknamed "Pulgasari" by the villagers, has a knack for eating anything containing iron, and seems to grow in size after he has devoured enough. With this observation, the offspring of the now-deceased older man believe that this new arrival can be used to benefit the greater good, and along with other disgruntled, nearby villages, they can now crush the oppressive dictator.

To those with an open and keen eye, South Korea has certainly been anything but strangers to the realm of oddball cinema. In addition to releasing some stupendously excellent flicks in the fields of horror, action, and thrillers, they have taken a dip into the realm of monster movies on more than a few occasions (2006's The Host is a tremendous piece of work, and even the 1999 remake of their own Yongarry is decently entertaining). While some did ultimately wield mixed results, most of these aforementioned releases have certainly managed to catch the attention of those seeking out something from this subgenre beyond the walls of its countries of origin. Seemingly jealous, and praying to not be outdone, their brethren in North Korea were desperately hoping to reignite the film industry in their own part of the peninsula. So, in 1978, under the orders of the infamous Kim Jong-il, they decided to begin the slow attempt at building interest in North Korean cinema in the most logical way possible: they kidnapped famed South Korean director Shin Sang-ok and his wife/lead actress Choi Eun-hee, forcing the two to create and star in multiple motion pictures for the purpose of spreading both entertainment and propaganda.

As it turns out, Kim was a humongous fan of motion pictures. Before his demise in 2011, he was reported to have owned a movie collection that contained upwards of twenty thousand VHS tapes and DVDs. Still, I would bet money that he didn't usurp the amount owned by some particular friends of mine that currently reside in Wilmington! As the concoction for Pulgasari may tell you, he was also a rather big fan of the Gojira franchise. Of course, the irony of a nutjob such as him loving something that was quite staunchly anti-war and anti-nuclear weapons is just hilarious, but I digress.

To the shock of absolutely no one, Pulgasari feels like a mixture of political commentary and a low-rent knockoff of smaller Kaiju Eiga pictures (the similarities to Japanese production Daimajin are uncanny). There is a not-so-subtle attack on capitalism that can go over the heads of the youngest and most ignorant of viewers, but there is a good chance that the ideas of anti-communism and dictator bashing that pop up towards the final act can not be so easily ignored. Unfortunately, the abundance of our wailing, moaning, and mundane humans could make it rather difficult for them to even pay attention to these messages. While I can understand those who criticized the 2014 iteration of Godzilla for its weaker, non-kaiju protagonists or occasional lack of creature presence (even though the Big G himself only appears in his 1954 debut for approximately seventeen minutes), I could not tell you a single distinguishing characteristic about any of these individuals, with something as simple and vital as their own names seeming to be insignificant in the long run. Mind you, it has only been a mere twelve hours since I finished today's entry, so that is saying a lot.

Oh, and in terms of our titular character, he is far from the worst behemoth that I have seen on the big screen (the one to bear that mark of shame will appear in a later review), but he is not exactly something to write home about either. Pulgasari's facial features are certainly expressive, with its eyes and mouth operating much more efficiently than it has any right to. It is arguably the best part about the costume, and a highlight of the entire ninety-five minute-long experience. That is where the praise ceases though, as the overall final design just seems to be frankly lazy in most areas. When he is pint-sized, he behaves more like a poor man's version of a Mogwai or E.T., which was very likely done in the hope that it would entice children into venturing out to whatever Cineplex was nearby, which could in turn lead to a gaggle of merchandise being manufactured for the general populace to purchase. That, or veteran suit actor Kenpachiro Satsuma (yes, the same one mentioned yesterday) just decided to do whatever the hell he wanted to during production. He looks akin to a very strung-out combination of an Ultraman villain, a brown bear, a boar, and someone you see at a Kid Rock concert (go ahead, make a "Manbearpig" joke while you're at it). He looks like a meth-head minotaur who has been sitting out in the sun for too long. Sadly, he doesn't even have abilities beyond being able to grow exponentially larger after consuming enough iron. And man, you should have seen my face after one of the villagers exclaimed "It even ate my pot!"

*When you realize that Yongarry and even Guilala will receive sequels before you do*

The only way to possibly recommend something such as Pulgasari is to suggest that you view it as anything other than a kaiju movie. The action featuring the colossal creature is sparse, the score is pathetic, and the plot is filled with far too much happenstance. As luck would have it, when you are facing down a gargantuan threat during the years of the Goryeo Dynasty, you don't have to do much worrying, as there are a good number of mystical people and plot devices around to potentially stop or combat the monster. Even worse is the occasionally sluggish pieces scattered throughout, and had it not been for Satsuma's portrayal of Pulgasari himself along with the involvement of Toho Studios in the special effects department (spearheaded by their own Teruyoshi Nakano), I would have turned it off halfway through. And yet, when you factor in the sheer insanity that went into its creation and sole reason for existing, it is a fascinatingly bad film to view. As of now, the only way that one can properly attain a copy of this failed experiment is to buy it on the bootleg market, as it is highly unlikely that something such as Pulgasari will ever find its way into what video stores are left around the globe. Thankfully, it IS available for you to watch on the wonderfully weird cesspool known as YouTube. Oddly enough, there is also a documentary out there to rent titled The Lovers and the Despot, which chronicles the shocking story behind the capture of, and efforts from the couple during their forced tenure working under the orders of the North Korean government.


Oh, and what reward did director Shin Sang-ok receive when he and his wife were able to escape from the clutches of the evil Kim Jong-il and his own father Kim Il-sung? Well, they dipped out during a film festival in Vienna, Austria, managing to make their way over to the United States, and living secretly among the town of Reston, Virginia while being protected by American authorities. Then, when he felt comfortable enough to make a foray back into cinema, he made the following motion picture.

Well.....I guess that could be considered failing upwards?



Tomorrow, it's back to the land of the rising sun! This time, the titular foe is a bit........unbelievable!

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 1

Well, isn't this a sight for sore eyes! Much like a particular professional wrestling company that refuses to die (without giving away too many hints, they begin with "T" and end with "A"), Unseen Terror has returned from the grave for its seventh year on this funny little thing that I seem to call a blog. If you are unfamiliar with this whole ordeal or concept, I will provide you with a very brief explanation. Back in 2010, in between time spent looking for employment and just trying to keep my sanity intact, I decided to "up" my horror and science fiction movie game. Thus, I figured that a good way to kill several hours would be to view at least one new motion picture a day, and write about it immediately after it had concluded. Of course, this can only include movies that I have never seen before (though that rule has been broken on a couple of occasions with pictures like Rodan and Martyrs), as typing about well-known classics such as The Thing and Evil Dead 2 just seems unnecessary at this point. And besides, why not partake in occasionally unearthing a hidden gem or two? I believe that acting defiant or hesitant towards finding new favorite films seems wholly illogical and just plain silly.


Anyways, let us dive in, shall we? If this year was a massive milestone for me in my personal life, then I find it only fitting to begin with one of the most awe-inspiring figures in the realm of monster-centric cinema.

Reporter Goro Maki is sailing near Daikoku Island, which has recently seen its fair share of volcanic activity. He suddenly comes across a fishing vessel, the Yahata-Maru, and after stopping to explore the boat, sees that nearly every person on board has died. Suddenly, he is attacked by an unusually large sea louse, but is saved by crew member Hiroshi Okumura, who despite suffering wounds from fighting with this mutation, survived his encounter. While Okumura is hospitalized in Tokyo, Maki questions the man about what exactly happened on board. He claims that during a rough storm one evening, he saw a monster emerge from the Island, and that the enlarged copepod which killed his friends must have come off of what startled him so badly. After looking through a series of photographs and hearing stories of a Russian submarine being destroyed by seemingly unknown forces, the fisherman and journalist conclude that something has occurred that the rest of the world prayed would never happen: Godzilla, an immense, walking, breathing reminder of the atomic nightmare, has returned. In a world that features two nations on the verge of waging war with one another, what actions can be taken to halt this unstoppable presence? And for that matter, at what cost?



Despite what you may be thinking right now, I have not seen every single entry in the oh-so-beloved and adored Godzilla film series. Well, not in their intended or original formats anyway. If I can be allowed to cheat right off the bat, my viewing of 1984's The Return of Godzilla was, by definition, not the first time that I partook in such a thing. In fact, if you would be so kind and appreciative, let me rewind the clock for you.


During my childhood, there was a local VHS store in Wheaton, MD whose name I unfortunately can not recall. Though they were eventually bought out and turned into a Blockbuster Video, both establishments (along with THIS previously discussed tape) served as a stomping ground for me being able to catch my first glimpses into the wonderful world of Kaiju Eiga (roughly translated to "giant monster movie"). Over a good number of years, I managed to convince my parents to rent nearly anything and everything starring gigantic creatures battling either a battalion of resistance and/or another beast of equal-sized proportions. One of these efforts was the fairly self-explanatory Godzilla 1985, which happened to be the American edit of the film whose poster and synopsis you glanced at a moment ago. Despite the video cassette copy of the flick opening with an amusing animated short titled Bambi Meets Godzilla (which can be viewed here), I remembered virtually nothing about the actual motion picture itself. Sadly, it appears as though Godzilla 1985 may forever be stuck in the realm of VHS traders and buyers, as legal reasons such as the sampling of scores from Christopher Young (Hellraiser, Drag Me to Hell) and the original stateside distributor (New World Pictures) going the way of the dodo, have prevented it from ever seeing release on a disc of any kind in the West.


Yet in 2016, Kraken Releasing, who have helmed the Blu-Ray releases of several other Toho projects during previous years, somehow managed to scoop up the rights to the original, theatrical cut for The Return of Godzilla. To an unabashed geek such as myself, this was our equivalent to Chinese Democracy finally being released to the general public. Yes, it was depressing to hear that only ONE cut of this forgotten entry would be available for us fans to finally own again, but it was still shockingly exciting news, especially since I have grown and gained a great deal of respect for the original Japanese language audio. So, now that I have finished their decent-looking Blu-Ray of Return, what were my thoughts overall?


If you are going by "giant monster movie" standards, this particular picture doesn't do much to differentiate itself from the rest of the pack. Godzilla attacks buildings, fights tanks and fighter jets, picks up trains and discards them like a toddler who tires of his old toys (which felt like an homage to this film's thirty-year-old predecessor), and breathes his trademark atomic breath on the poor suckers who aren't smart or quick enough to run as far away as possible. Even his origin is just the same as it was in his original heyday, though Return disregards every other entry's existence save for the debut flick from 1954. Hell, the backstory on how Toho Studios tried several times to revive the King of the Monsters during his ten year hiatus from cinema could have made for a far more interesting final product. Some of these included American producer Henry G. Saperstein's idea of pitting the Big G against a variation of one of the titular creatures from Toho cult favorite (and previous Unseen Terror entry) War of the Gargantuas. When that fizzled out, Toho decided to remake the original film, only with Jun Fukuda (Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla, Godzilla vs. Gigan) sitting in the director's chair, rather than the more well-known and respected Ishiro Honda, who opted out of directing this revival due to his commitment on several Akira Kurosawa projects. Finally, it was decided that were the decision made to have Godzilla resurface on the big screen, he would face off with a larger threat, and it would be against a previously unseen force simply called "The Asuka Fortress." Though not much is known beyond that project's title, the image of a gigantic version of the NXT women's champion facing off against a radioactive dinosaur could make for silly fun in this day and age. And yet, when THAT didn't take off, the final idea presented was to have a newer entity, a sort of "combiner" kaiju that went by the name of Bagan, take him on. Suffice to say, none of these ended up going beyond the developmental and pre-production stages, and the latter monstrosity in particular has garnered himself quite a bit of fame over the decades as perhaps the most beloved unused Toho creature of all time, making appearances only in the realm of video games such as Super Godzilla and Godzilla Movie Studio Tour. I mean come on, the poor guy couldn't even make it into a Mothra-centric release!

"CAN ANYBODY FIND ME SOMEBODY TO LO-er, FIGHT?!"

The human cast is unfortunately hit or miss (Keiju Kobayashi as Japan's Prime Minister is arguably Return's best character), and even coming from someone who watches television programs such as The Walking Dead, I felt that I was being smothered by the amount of new people that were inserted into the plot throughout its decently-long running time (and with pro wrestling-style introductory captions popping up during said debuts). The motion picture boasts a rather impressive composition from the relatively unknown Reijiro Koroku, who does an adequate job of filling the legendary Akira Ifukube's shoes for the time being, as the veteran refused to return for a newer entry because he felt dissatisfied by the decision to increase Godzilla's size during his hibernation (a choice that was inevitable due to Tokyo's skyline growing that much larger over the course of ten years), and didn't want to write scores for "eighty-meter monsters." Luckily, the aforementioned replacement manages to conjure up pieces that are equal parts grandiose and quietly morbid. It is one of the more underrated aspects about a release that some will be catching just so they may see the spectacle of it all. And for those who will feel the opposite way about this or are offended by the man's absence: Akira-san returned to the franchise only seven years later. Leave your stupid comment in your pocket.


Some of what makes this particular film shine is also what hurts it in the end. While the overall design of this iteration of Godzilla, the first of the "Heisei" period, doesn't look terrible per se, there are a good number of close-up and "mug" shots that look almost comical. Yes, he looks pretty menacing when viewed from the side, and the decision to add tiny ears and sharper-looking teeth don't really hurt the aesthetic and overall presentation of the kaiju, a decent portion of the criticism stems from Toho's decision to construct a sixteen-foot robotic version of our colossal antagonist in addition to using the tried and true technique of having an actor parade around in a rubber suit (in this case, Gigan actor Kenpachiro Satsuma). Despite it costing nearly half a million dollars, there are times where it often looks and feels far too unrealistic (well, for this type of picture) for the viewer to feel threatened or frightened. Thankfully, the traditional portrayal of the titular creature in The Return of Godzilla makes up for these occasionally odd technical choices by having him act as mean as he possibly can. There are multiple scenes of the radioactive behemoth coming dangerously close to the civilians fleeing or hiding from him, and in several instances, his own path of destruction is demonstrated by scenes of innocents being crushed by rubble or even running around engulfed in flame. The only thing missing was a choir of girls singing out of fear and despair like in the original Gojira, but it's a minor complaint. He is a mean, primal, and occasionally simplistic animal that, simply put, can not be stopped or reasoned with, and by God(zilla), sometimes that is all that we fans need; a walking symbol of the reminders and horrors of nuclear warfare.


The Return of Godzilla does stumble in a few areas, and most of that is due to being a victim of having a smaller budget and the evolution of special effects work throughout the thirty-plus years since its initial release. However, the battles with the military and the spiffy Super X, a self-described "flying fortress" with cadmium missiles and special armor, are other highlights that are fine enough to make you forget about the occasionally confusing amount of human characters. The cold war tension, despite feeling a little dated, is actually handled fairly well and maturely as well, although I wish they had hired somebody without Grade Z-level acting to play the representative for the United States during his two moments on screen. It is certainly flawed, but even the weaker entries in this sixty-two yearlong franchise have a handful of good parts to them (yes, even Godzilla's Revenge). If you're a fan that ranges from "casual" to "obsessive," then I can't see a reason why you shouldn't finally add this one to your own personal collection. For the time being, The Return of Godzilla can be purchased via most online shopping services, and during the time that you are reading this, there is a strong chance that you can grab it for a meager ten dollars on Amazon like I did.



Or, you can grab several dozen hardcover books to read while you wait for 1985 to finally be released. Your loss.



Tomorrow, those darn monsters are sticking around and still causing trouble for the general populace, but this time, they're invading North Korea...

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 1

To quote one of my favorite podcasts, happy days are here again! My yearly collection of assorted viewings in the realm of horror cinema has returned, this time for its sixth year. If you aren't familiar with how I do this, I handpick at least thirty one different films that deal with horror in some way shape or form, and watch them across the span of thirty one days. I know, this isn't exactly the most unique concept when you peruse the internet (most notably Youtube), but this is just for my own amusement and potential torture. This year, however, I've added a very special twist: within a little more than a week, I shall be celebrating my thirtieth birthday. To commemorate this, I've specifically chosen films released between the years of 1985 and 2015, with at least one film released during that year to serve as said daily entries. We'll dive into the glorious pickings of the late 1980s, suffer through some rather difficult viewings of the late 90s, and scratch at our heads at some of the works of the mid 2000s.

Without any further stallings, let us commence the journey into my ramblings disguised as reviews.

The world has been ravaged and torn apart by a zombie apocalypse. Anyone who is not infected is an uncommon attraction among the millions of dead that plague the planet. Still, two groups of survivors have taken refuge underground, only to surface if supplies or food are becoming scarce. The first band of people is a troop of soldiers, lead by the brash, if not slightly ill Captain Henry Rhodes. The other is mostly comprised of scientists, who are a more optimistic pack of individuals, with one even going so far as to experiment on the deceased, believing they can be tamed through the right means. As tensions mount between the two, the undead evils above ground grow closer and closer...

Given that I absolutely love the original Night of the Living Dead and enjoy Dawn Of The Dead a good amount, you would have figured that I had seen George Romero's third entry into the zombie genre that he helped make into the juggernaut that it is today. Shockingly, I had not. Hell, I actually purchased a copy from Anchor Bay (THIS one with a velcro cover to be exact) nearly a decade ago with the intentions of watching and most likely adoring it. Again, that amusingly did not happen. Why you might ask? No reason. Well, perhaps laziness, but that can be my excuse for most things in my own personal life.


But after having finished Day Of The Dead, I really do need to remedy these problems disguised as mere procrastination. While I don't feel that the third entry in Romero's initial zombie trilogy is his strongest project, it does have a lot of impressive aspects to it. For starters, there is an immediate sense of dread and hopelessness that is set in stone from the very beginning. The barren cities (for what we see of them) give you the impression that something rather serious has occurred, making the world of modern day zombie tales such as The Walking Dead seem paltry in comparison. Accompanying it is a rather wonderful score by Mr. John Harrison, whose previous work on noted cult favorite Creepshow was also solid, if not a bit sillier at times. It almost makes up for the disappointment of realizing that Dawn composers Goblin and Dario Argento aren't back for the ride this time around. Almost.


Director George Romero has always seemed to have a knack for getting memorable performances, be they excellent or hilariously bad, out of his cast, even if the subject matter at hand was far from top notch material (Monkey Shines comes to mind). Joseph Pilato's Captain Rhodes is obviously the first person that will come to mind for previous viewers and even first time watchers such as myself. He's delightfully psychotic, but still somewhat sympathetic during select moments. The rest of his personnel came across as too cartoon-like for my taste, especially given the terrible situations that these people are in. Perhaps it was delusional behavior that was meant to hide how they really felt living in a society overrun by zombies, but maybe I'm looking into this too much. I couldn't help but be amused by Anthony Dileo Jr's character though, as he plays the supporting boyfriend to star Lori Cardille, but sounds like he's about to cry in every scene that he appears in. When the time comes for him to actually let out legitimate wails of anguish and pain, you just want to tell him to try harder since it seems like he used up all of his energy earlier in the film. Lead expert Dr. Matthew Logan, aka "Frankenstein," seems like he graduated from the Jeffrey Combs school of "matter of fact" acting, though that is far from a complaint given that the latter is one of the most underrated actors of the past three decades.


I suspect that what will keep people coming back to repeated viewings of Day Of The Dead will be its notorious scenes of violence, gore, and dissection. With each installment, the pure insanity and outrageousness has gone up exponentially, turning from Night's initial shock, to Dawn's slight disgust, and finally settling into Day's pure, unadulterated horror. Though I am certainly not going to spoil if anyone in particular or rather notable dies during its two hours running time, I can say that the final act is the movie equivalent of an early Cannibal Corpse or Dismember record. The legendary Tom Savini (Dawn Of The Dead, Friday The 13th) is at the top of his game here, being assisted by future juggernaut Greg Nicotero (The Walking Dead, Misery), and every single kill is just a sight to behold. It was no wonder that the former was given a Saturn Award in 1985 for his work on the set and makeup.

"Ey fam, check out my mixtape."

It's easy to just gush like a fanboy about this wonderful little gem, and honestly, I'm not sure that I've even said much that hasn't already been uttered by horror connoisseurs and experts across the continent. Day Of The Dead's influence is mighty, seen in underground follies like Fido (the idea of domesticating or controlling a zombie) and the Resident Evil series of flicks (there are far too many to count). I don't know if I can fully back George Romero's statement that he believes this is his best work, but it's a great specimen and example of the genre that is often overcrowded with lackluster or unimaginative efforts. If you're a fan of the people vs. people vs. zombies formula of a certain modern television show that draws higher ratings than most other programs, you may want to find a cheap copy to buy (and if you have the money, do a double screening with another little zombie classic from 1985 that I've reviewed before!).



Oh, you're broke you say? Well, it's also available on Netflix's instant streaming service. So there you go you cheapskate.




Tomorrow, we're diving into two entries for 1986. One choice will deal with the vehicular side of horror. The other takes us back into the realm of H.P. Lovecraft. What do they have in common?



....you're not paying attention if you ask that question....

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 6

A man discovers a new, white substance emerging from the ground, and is surprised to find that it is delicious. The new substance is packaged, sold, and marketed as "The Stuff," a zero-calorie substitute to dairy that is sweet, creamy, and filling. It quickly takes off in popularity, and a man hired by the now-suffering ice cream industry must investigate how to stop "The Stuff," in order to prevent bankruptcy. But this new product holds a much, much darker secret than anyone could ever suspect, and stopping it could be more impossible than one ever could imagine.


There's a good chance that if you are familiar with horror films, or at least with gifs seen throughout the internet, you're familiar with director Larry Cohen (It's Alive, Q-The Winged Serpent) and his take on rampant commercialism entitled The Stuff. Arguably as bizarre as those two efforts, though with a more clear and concise message, it also might the gooiest film in his catalog, probably due to how off-putting an overabundance of the color white can be to some people (whoever had to clean up all of that foam, ice cream, and yogurt....you have my sympathy). Personally, I'm shocked it took me as long as it did to finally watch this, as it was sitting in my instant queue for at least two or three years.


Cohen casts Michael Moriarty in the lead, who coincidentally was also the lead in the man's previous horror effort Q-The Winged Serpent. I suppose they finished the film together on good terms, but it takes time to get used to what the man brings to the table of what you can justify as a performance. Michael just kind of rushes everything, delivering lines in a nonchalant sort of way for about seventy-five percent of the film's running time, which wouldn't be a bother except that you consider the surroundings and wonder why one individual would be so relaxed. He's given a woman to fall in love with too, an ad executive who named the Stuff itself, but doesn't have a single other interesting thing to her character. Interestingly enough, there are also small roles from Danny Aiello and Paul Sorvino, who both clearly showed up not just to collect paychecks, but to act. They don't care that they're in a movie about killer yogurt, they're refined actors damn it. Okay, so they did each do Hudson Hawk and See Spot Run respectively, but everyone's allowed a few mistakes. Sorvino in particular is hilarious as a right-wing military general who vows to combat the Stuff once it is discovered how to stop its distribution. SNL alumni Garrett Morris also shows up for a bit part as a mogul named "Chocolate Chip Charlie," which could be the best name for a person I've ever heard in my entire life. Morris also takes part in the film's most infamous moment, but I won't discuss that in this review out of respect for those who do read this blog.


While the adults are a mixed bag, there's also the typical young protagonist named Jason, played by Scott Bloom. He's probably the only likable character, and the first one to clearly discover that there's something amiss with this new sensation (about five minutes into the film in fact). My complaint about there being too short of a gap between said discovery and this kid's actual introduction to the audience aside, he isn't that uninteresting, and does have some great moments in the latter half of the film, such as a notable scene wherein he fools folks enslaved by the Stuff that he too, seemingly loves it. As mentioned in the first paragraph, the numerous shots at commercialism and over-dependency upon products like the title "food" are the obvious message in The Stuff. So much so that Cohen managed to snag the now-deceased Clara Peller of "Where's The Beef?" fame and Abe Vigoda to do a commercial for it during the film. Ludicrous, but wholeheartedly amusing. There are fashion shows dedicated to the Stuff, entire walls in supermarkets for the Stuff, and chains as large as McDonald's for the Stuff. Wait, I'm even capitalizing the brand itself, and the blasted thing is fictional!


I almost wish that The Stuff had been a little bit more of the extreme side, but seeing that the film had a budget of approximately $1.7 million, I can understand not wanting to go overboard. The movie ends up unfolding like a slower version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (god, how many times have I made comparisons to that movie on here?) with hints of The Blob thrown in for good measure. The ending is also very fitting, and essentially seems like the kind of ending everyone hoped would have come about with a picture like this one. It'll be worth a watch with some friends, food, and fun minds.



Tomorrow, we deal with fuckin' voodoo magic man with THE SERPENT AND THE RAINBOW!