Here’s a rare one for ya–an advert from from the Los Angeles-area TV Guide from back around 1986. Back then, Elvira’s local program, “Movie Macabre” (which was broadcast on KHJ channel 9) would show the greatest AND cheesiest horror hits. This time round, it was ATTACK OF THE KILLER TOMATOES. Bust out the pizza, folks!
After ten days in theaters, Fede Alvarez’s latest entry in the Xenomorph shuffle, ALIEN: ROMULUS, just crossed the $150 million-dollar mark for international box office take this past weekend. That’s the good news.
The bad news is that attendance has dropped more than 60% to finish second domestically for the weekend of August 24th-25th.
Genre pictures usually take a nose-dive their second week of release, but I gotta admit that I’m a bit surprised, given the rather positive reviews I’ve read from critics and moviegoers alike. General consensus has been that ALIEN: ROMULUS is one of, if not the best, entry in the franchise in decades. Another problem: the juggernaut DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE, which has captured close to $600 million so far in the US alone.
We’ll see what happens in the coming weeks. Meanwhile, the soonest the film is set to stream is on (HBO) Max starting November 25th.
Why not cap your week with some cheesecakc? Whether dancing with chainsaws, being chased by demons, or just succumbing to zombies, no one did it better back in the day than Linnea Quigley.
Today marks the 38th anniversary of THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE PART 2, and what we have here is a case of life imitating art.
Bill Moseley is a genre favorite these days, immortalized as the one and only Otis B. Driftwood in Rob Zombie’s two-fer HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES (2003) and its sequel, THE DEVIL’S REJECTS (2005). However, back in the 80s, he was just an up and comer looking for a big break. This was it.
Bill Moseley in THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MANICURE (1984)
Purportedly, Moseley handed the short off to a friend who was able to get it in front of Tobe Hooper, who was just getting plans together to make THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE PART 2 (1986). When Edwin Neal turned down the chance to reprise his role as Nubbins “The Hitchhiker” Sawyer in the sequel, the idea to give the character a twin brother was concocted and, you got it, Hooper sought out Moseley for the role now commonly known as “Chop Top”. The odds of this are astronomical to be sure, but Moseley was deservedly on his way to becoming a horror star, later appearing in such flicks as THE FIRST POWER (1990), Tom Savini’s reboot of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1990), and even snagging a small role in ARMY OF DARKNESS (1993) before galvanizing his place in scare history for his turn as Otis B. Driftwood.
Though the full short film of TEXAS CHAINSAW MANICURE is still a rare find, I was able to scrounge up this clip of it, which also features a short glimpse of the Moseley performance that obviously gave Hooper quite a laugh. Strangely enough, more than 30 years later there was a yet another short with the exact same name submitted for the MTV Movie Awards in 2007.
Move over Barry Levinson and John Waters, there’s a new flavor in Baltimore!
FIEND is one of those movies that just kind of materializes in your conscience without warning, rhyme, or reason. I don’t know why I watched it or even how. It’s just part of me now, whether I like it or not.
Directed by Maryland-based Don Dohler, FIEND is the epitome of the kind of low-budget DIY horror valued by people of my age, so I’m stumped as to how it eluded my radar for so long. The plot is rather harmless and pedestrian: for some reason, a glitchy series of lights simulating eee-vil (as Donald Pleasance would say) reanimates a dead music teacher. With a new lease on life, he then balances giving violin lessons with going apeshit across the NE suburbs of Baltimore, choking people to death. In doing so, he steals their lifeforce to spruce himself up in a Dorian Gray-type of way, much like Clive Barker’s lead character of Frank in HELLRAISER (1987).
It’s obvious FIEND is not going to be the blood circus gorehounds usually look for these days. Instead, this is ground-floor, PG-rated stuff that gets its kicks in other ways. The pacing will surely be killing for young ones raised on Eli Roth and Rob Zombie, but if you’re game for a slow burn and a charming on-the-fly (read: CHEAP!) approach at scary sci-fi storytelling, you might find yourself a bit surprised by this one.
Our title character is broodingly played by regional actor Don Leifert, who emits a sludgy, sexy menace that somehow keeps your attention for all 90 minutes of this $6,000 screen oddity. The rest of the cast is pleasant enough to play along, and the special effects walk that razor-thin line between hilarious and serviceable.
One of the key craftsmen of this ragtag lot is the film’s composer, Paul Woznicki. Completed in a madness-inducing, sleep-deprived 72-hour dash, Woznicki’s score finds him beating the hell out of his all-purpose synthesizers for maximum effect. I must’ve listened to this score at least 200 times on YouTube over the past few years. There remain a few recently-reissued vinyl copies of the soundtrack still floating around on the internet, so if you get hooked like I did, get yours tout de suite before it becomes unavailable for another 40 years.
If you’re scratching your head at all of this, you’re probably right where you need to be. FIEND is kinda lame, kinda genius, and still kinda obscure after all this time. It’s an unlikely mix from yesteryear that’s perfect for a rainy night of pizza, box wine, and sloppy sex. And after the credits roll, get over to YouTube and check out the film’s blooper reel!
I’m certainly happy I’ve made it this far. Despite getting older and enduring some newfound aches and pains, I’m in better physical and mental shape than I was in my 40s, so that’s definitely something to celebrate.
Another thing to celebrate is this fitting release from 1981. I remember standing and looking at this poster and trying to figure out what the hell this was all supposed to mean. I wasn’t yet into horror (that would come in 1982), but I remember feeling something fundamentally wrong when I looked at this poster. Even at that young age, I knew you weren’t supposed to murder people with shish kebab skewers, but I also knew that putting this much text on a movie poster wasn’t exactly the norm, either. Just take a gander at that shit–it’s like a novella! This is a movie poster that dares to be different. I didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or study for an upcoming exam on which ways John, Greg, and Steven were respectively getting dispatched.
I saw the film a few years later and it wasn’t bad, but man, it’s tough to live up to this original one-sheet. Over 40 years later, this image is still legendary in slasher circles, and it’s easy to see why. As I celebrate a half century today, it’s a lot like looking at this poster. Should I scream? Laugh? Nope. Just relax with the knowledge that I finally have the wisdom to pass life’s little exam.
Hard to imagine, but it was 36 long years ago today that Freddy Krueger slashed through the competition to sit atop the box office mountain yet again with A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 4: THE DREAM MASTER.
The L.A. Daily News dropped this article in late August 1988 to give the details of Freddy’s debut weekend haul of $12.8 million. That was up almost 50% from the $8.8 million he pocketed with the previous installment, A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 3: DREAM WARRIORS, which opened 18 months earlier back in February 1987.
Let’s hope Mr. Krueger treated himself to a nice pedicure and facial.
Effective guilty pleasure that goes remarkably well with cheese and seafood.
If you’re of a certain age, you may remember this little ditty on late-night cable. It was the exact kinda trash that you’d find after a five-hour marathon of Atari Pac-Man and your entire family had already gone to bed hours ago. Hey, what can I say? Bad parenting was rampant in the 1980s.
Even with the advent of digital media, this fragrant slice of cinematic cheese still goes under the radar after all these years. So much so that it’s still fetching surprisingly high prices on Amazon. Crafty connoisseurs of crap cinema can find it elsewhere, though. (Nudge, nudge! Wink, wink! Say no more, say no more!)
The ghosts from a 19th-century love triangle have tainted a quiet Kyoto house. Now, they’re about to prey on an American photojournalist (played by Edward Albert of the previous year’s GALAXY OF TERROR) who’s moved his family in to undertake a new research assignment. Are they worried? Of course not, don’t be stupid! “Modern ghosts are friendly ghosts” is their sentiment upon hearing their new digs just might be haunted. Fucking idiots.
You can pretty much guess where all this goes, but if the slo-mo opening triple murder sequence doesn’t entice you, I got two words for you: CRAB ATTACK. Trust me, you’ll want to check that out. For you perverts, we got ya covered, as costars Susan George and Doug McClure both drop trou for the cause.
Best known for redefining the definition of ‘fritters’ in MOTEL HELL (1980), London-born director Kevin Connor has some nice visual flourishes here. Even better, the Ken Thorne score is an inspired mix of East-meets-West passages, some featuring traditional Japanese themes running the gamut from delicate to ominous. After years in obscurity, the soundtrack has recently been offered in a limited-edition run from Dragon’s Domain Records.
Though the release date for ALIEN: ROMULUS is technically tomorrow (August 16th), many theaters these days can be counted on to have showings late Thursday night, too. You could be missing it right now. Get your ass in the car!
And to get you in the mood, be sure to check out the official trailer one more time before you go.
This TV Guide ‘Close Up’ feature was from a mid-80s airing of the Steven Spielberg blockbuster, back when they were still showing it on network television. I remember watching it back then and noticing the hard cut they made to edit out the fountain of blood coming from the Kintner boy.
Speaking of which, there’s a neat story that goes something like this: Years after the movie’s release, Lee Fierro, the actress who played Mrs. Kintner in the film, went into a restaurant and happened to notice something weird on the menu: the “Alex Kintner Sandwich”. She soon found out the reason for it–the restaurant was owned by the grown-up Jeffrey Voorhees, who had played her son in the film. Ain’t that neat?
Now, what I want to know is what the hell exactly constitutes an “Alex Kintner Sandwich”?