Friday, May 13, 2011

Anthology of Aneurysms 2: Hell Hath No Fury Like a Fanboy Scorned

Let me say first that it is an honor to be bringing you some incredibly terrible reviews of some completely horrible, not horrifying movies. I’m a perpetual optimist when it comes to films. I end up thinking that any movie you could show me or write about or put on some fancy list of top ten best whatever’s must be worth the watch. I’ll watch them. It’s the OCD in me. Blessing. Curse. Especially when it comes to tonight’s five entries into the Anthology of Aneurysms. Each one gave me some form of discomfort and none of them in that sickly good way that watching an ex-porn star rape his very own son can (which is a reference to a certain eastern European film getting banned and legally challenged all over the world, ya sick fucks whom have my utmost respect). Let’s dig in and then bury the bodies before the police find us shall we?

The Dead Pit

From what I understand every horror movie critic just about loves this movie. There are endless write ups. It has a fairly sweet VHS cover box. I remember seeing this one on the shelf as a wee one and thinking, “I don’t think I can rent that one because I’m not old enough yet.” That says something. What… a… fucking… mistake. “You’re a fucking maniac,” never had such a comedic ring to it.

Basic story line is a mad doctor in a mental hospital is performing experiments, seemingly killed and the magically ends up alive but with some heavy zombie baggage still performing his experiments. Somebody file a med mal suit against the director and the actors for making this picture no matter what cult following it has attained. Rave reviews as a zombie picture? Are you kidding me? This isn’t Italian enough to call it a bad zombie picture (meant in the absolute nicest way possible).

Bad Gore. Terrible title sequence and preamble. The dialogue is overdramatic in a way that makes you want to say funny but combined with the overall lack of “nothing fucking going on” YOU ARE BORED. Bad movies are supposed to make you laugh out loud not simulate a shot of Thorazine. The effects are cheesy which I realize can have its merit, but long shots of hallways with limited dialogue and bad synth music followed by hackneyed psychology will only make you suffer…. Well unless you can find a gratuitous boob shot in the picture and one murder with an abnormal implement of destruction.

Satan’s Triangle

After reading about this puppy in the first issue of Mad Monster magazine I had to check it out. Thank god for YouTube folks. I got to watch the whole thing in seven boring parts. Maybe it’s the way the person posted it to the web or maybe it’s the quality of the picture. Maybe it’s that it comes off like bad TV action adventure programming in its pilot episode having been shot by ABC (don’t worry… it’s only a pilot). Satan’s Triangle is fully of some bad dialogue. It’s full of the worst of the worst action sequence, wide shots of ships in the ocean, up close shots of 70’s actresses (by which we mean Kim Novak so what the hell!?)

Synopsis: Coast Guard guys attempt to rescue a stranded Kim Novak. Mysterious shit ensues. It’s a triangle in the middle of the ocean. We all understand that means Keep Out! Mystery unfolds… blah blah blah.

And you know this movie makes it into our list of aneurysms because I was so god damn bored the entire time. I really wasn’t sure how I was going to review it and then… without warning… a really creepy twist ending that even I didn’t see coming, but is actually worth it. You just have to wait through the entire film and watch the last two fucking minutes to enjoy it. I promise the last two minutes are actually worth sitting through this turkey. Cross my heart and hope to never watch the full movie again.

I’m not sure I would have dedicated an entire magazine entry to this film but since Mad Monster did, I watched it. Since I watched it I can warn you that there is true evil lurking on YouTube and it’s has been posted in the form of Satan’s Triangle. Watch the seventh part… if you dare. This movie goes on forever and ever and ever but when you here the “There is no Dana only Zule” voiceover… you’ve hit pay dirt.

Crazy Eights

Why did I watch this movie? It was late? It was part of the After Dark Horrorfest series and it was on Fearnet On Demand? It had a catchy story line per the synopsis provided by Comcast/Fearnet, “Circumstance brings six childhood friends together to face their past, and a secret they share”? Guys, it’s none of these reasons. The sole reason I put this flick on was due to the presence of Traci Lords. Now I realize that she has vanquished her porn star ways and gone down the path of B movie scream queen (scream queen-kinda is more like it). I’m fully aware that she tried to have a musical career that really didn’t take off. I’m also fully aware that there are other movies that she has been in sans her adult fare that have been marred with critical despair. Traci Lords, the woman of my adolescent introduction to the world of pornography, can get me to watch just about anything. If I found out she was in Barney Teaches This Little Light of Mind to Tracy Lords, I’d watch Barney. And I did thoroughly enjoy her in Zak and Miri Make a Porno. She was funny. It worked and had me all nostalgic for New Wave Hookers and Traci, I Love You.

This movie did not work. This is the kind of movie you watch in fast forward. I’ll do that if I think a movie falls short of watchable. I’m kind of a completist so I’ll need to watch the whole fucking movie even if I’ve just seen ten minutes. To not watch the movie becomes somehow painful. More painful than watching Crazy Eights? I suppose that must be the case.

Fans of Traci, this is something you can actually enjoy (warning... this may have too many almost-boob shots for some viewers and is definitely inappropriate for those who think its inappropriate):

I clicked the double right facing arrow on my remote and looked for something… anything worth my time. Tits. Blood. Something that looked or resembled acting. I’m afraid I took this picture off fast forward once or twice to listen in on the dialogue and after two sentences kept it going. By the end of my adventure in fast forward Indy horror I realized that I had done the right thing. Nothing redeeming here. As part of early After Dark Horrofest releases I’m ok that it didn’t make the grade. At least people got to see the name Traci Lords on another movie cover; one they could legally own a copy this time. This wasn’t an 8 movie to die for… it was an 8 movie to die from.

… oh did I mention the Big Brains on Brad from Pulp Fiction was in it? Still not missing anything.

Night of the Hunter

I’ve heard excellent things about this picture. People find this movie creepy and most definitely disturbing. Robert Mitchum in 1955 before he did Cape Fear showing just how terrifying he really can be, right? People list it as one of the top horror pictures of all time. What people are these? Phone numbers… addresses… I need to understand how this bore of a picture gets you freaked out.

IMDB: A religious fanatic marries a gullible widow whose young children are reluctant to tell him where their real daddy hid $10,000 he'd stolen in a robbery. (IMDB by the by shows this as having a user rating of 8.2 stars out of 10).

So is this scary because you saw Robert Mitchum in Cape Fear and misplacing said fear? This isn’t scary. It’s almost comical. If it wasn’t for some of the music I’d feel like I was watching a slap stick picture from the silent era only they gave the actors… ready… LINES. I watched this one for the music which is why I point it out. Fantomas does a wonderful cover of the theme music (see a nice live medley alongside some other classic covers below). It’s well worth the listen. The film is well worth forgetting if you ask this dim witted Doctor of Hooey.

The Room

The first time I was told to watch this film, I assumed I was told to do so because of my interest in horror movies. I sat down one evening. The wife is watching a movie downstairs with her friend and I’m going to catch a SCARY MOVIE (something that is nearly banned before bedtime in my house). I set up the DVD player and start the film a-playing’

The first thing you notice is that Tommy Wisseau directs, writes and stars in his own picture. So Ed Wood did this and so did Orson Welles (and countless other I’m sure but don’t break sense of non existence suspense). So who do we have? Did Tommy Welles show up or Tommy Wood? I assure you folks the answer is quite simply that Tom Wisseau showed up. I have never been quite as disappointed in a “scary” picture before mostly because it wasn’t scary, bloody, gory, entertaining… this list could go on for quite some time. The movie has an all you can eat buffet of nudity and I didn’t even get a (not to be too graphic) boner.

You know that a director/writer is reeeeeally bad when IMDB says that they are known for having their characters enter the screen saying “Oh Hi (insert name here)”. We all get writer’s block. I’m not a particularly good writer. I have even tried to write dialogue, failed and written dialogue about my failure and inadequacy in my ability to write dialogue. Tommy Wisseau is worse and I don’t care if he was trying to be worse.

Side note: watching this man act sexy makes me nauseous. I mean that quite literally. Pukey. Vomitous. It’s like looking at an aged Peter Steele who isn’t nearly as faux Goth as Peter Steele and is, inherently, old looking.

Second side note: I really hope Tommy’s a nice guy and that he puts his heart and soul into all his pictures (all two of them) also I hope that he’s a good friend, neighbor, citizen, (fill in the blank).

What’s that? What’s that you say? I didn’t say anything about the movie/plot/synopsis… nothing? My response is simple: What plot? I realize only now that it was recommend to me not because it was frightening but because its terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible, terrible ad infinitum.


I realize that I have never made a movie. At the rate I’m going and when laziness, lack of free time and having the personality of a gigantic diarrhea spitting asshole, I realize I may never actually make a picture. It is only fair that I criticize these films for their inadequacies, but dear reader never forget that I also look in a mirror every day and smash baby diapers against my forehead in an angst ridden shit storm. I’m an A.O.A. (Anthology of Aneurysms) entry in the making. One step away from a negative IMDB star outlook and no tomatoes on Rotten Tomatoes.

-Dr. Terror …with love, ANGST and a legendary lack of compassion but an overabundance of fake sympathy. Also, I’m probably the guy Henry Rollins was singing about in the song “Liar”.

No comments:

Post a Comment