Ghoul School (1990): Too Ghoul for School

When a group of dim-witted criminals attempt to steal a fortune in cash from a high school basement, they accidentally unleash a poison into the school’s water supply, resulting in the swim team and a handful of other students becoming flesh-eating ghouls. The only people who can stop this outbreak from breaking out are a couple of horror geeks, Jeff and Steve (Scott Gordon and William Friedman), a five-man basketball team and the baddest rock band of all time, the Bloodsucking Ghouls. Will they be able to expel this ghoulish nightmare, or find themselves stuck in permanent detention?

Written and directed by Timothy O’Rawe, Ghoul School is an immensely low-budget horror comedy that somehow, someway delivers the goods despite being riddled with issues. Comically bad acting is sporadically laced throughout the film, which is often enhanced by post-production dialogue so ridiculous that it would almost seem like they were doing it on purpose to get a laugh. Furthermore, the editing is amateurish at best, featuring an abundance of awkwardly edited and staged moments of dialogue where characters seem as if they are in two completely different planes of existence.

Despite a runtime of 70 minutes, Ghoul School has a whole lot going on. There are a number of parallel storylines that, regardless of coming together in the film’s finale, seem to be nothing more than nonsensical filler. With horror junkies Jeff and Steve being the obvious leads, the film mainly focuses on them as they sneak into the AV room to watch a bootleg of the latest zombie gore film before the ghoul outbreak occurs. During this time, there are sections of the film dedicated to the Bloodsucking Ghouls, who come equipped with mullets, massive amounts of fringe, cheetah print, and weight-lifting gloves, all things you want and need in a hair-metal band. What the viewer does not get, however, is a taste of "the best goddamn rock 'n roll singer in New York," because their performance suspiciously lacks vocals.

Keeping the film’s momentum at a crawl is the worst basketball practice ever hosted by the worst coach ever who is forcing the varsity basketball team to practice an extra hour because they suck. What follows are an abundance of sporadic scenes where the viewer is privy to the basketball team lazily taking practice shots and arguing with one another about who’s the gayest. All of these characters eventually come to play a part in the film as a whole, but in all reality this poorly executed build up adds nothing of real value to the film in the scenes leading up to that point. Well, outside of laughable entertainment value, that is.

As out of place as the basketball practice may seem, it holds not a candle to the random scenes featuring Joe Franklin and Jackie “The Joke Man” Martling, both of whom make an appearance as themselves. Serving absolutely no purpose to the film whatsoever, these are clearly nothing more than cameos that came in exchange for favors, or in the case of Martling, self promotion. There are a handful of characters wearing a T-shirt that says “I stumped Jackie the Joke Man!!” as well as a moment where one of Martling’s videos is playing in the background. The most egregious and absurd moment comes from a scene where Martling literally spends 5 minutes telling jokes to Franklin in an office. It’s absolute madness.

While issues are aplenty, Ghoul School is thoroughly enjoyable in a way where its many problems actually add to the film in a positive way. The film somehow retains a level of horror-loving earnestness, which I think can be attributed to it being made by people who genuinely love the genre. Of course, the time period in which the film was made adds to the amusement, especially because it comes at a time when we weren’t all so self-aware. Those who nostalgically cherish the 1980s through modern-day retro-entertainment should enjoy watching a movie such as Ghoul School, as it genuinely delivers much of the same absurd amusement during an era that so many try to capture.

Killpoint (1984): The Sound of Violence

The review is in conjunction with the 1984-A-Thon, which is being hosted by Forgotten Films. After you check out this review, I encourage you to keep up with the other contributions throughout the Blogathon over at Forgotten Films.

When a vicious weapons dealer named Nighthawk (Stack Pierce) robs a military weapons cache and begins selling off the high-powered arsenal to various gangs, the police are forced to send in their best man to take care of business: Lt. James Long (Leo Fong). Armed with an unwieldy bowl cut and adorable bangs, Lt. Long must do whatever it takes to get these dangerous weapons off the streets, while also putting a stop to Nighthawk and his boss, a crazed mob leader named Joe Marks (Cameron Mitchell). Oh, and if that wasn’t enough,  Lt. Long also must find the people responsible for raping and murdering his wife only a year before.  

Written and directed by Frank Harris, Killpoint (or Kill Point if you’re a conformist) is far from what one would describe as a “good film.” Killpoint is, however, a film that certainly delivers the goods, and it does so in spades, I might add. Right from the word go, Harris kicks the door open and unloads a barrage of action-packed madness that greatly exceeds the average B-Action picture of the time period, or any period for that matter.

Shortly after Nighthawk (by the way, NIGHTHAWK!) robs the armory, there’s a brilliant scene in which he is instructing a group of armed thugs to go into a restaurant and kill a specific person. However, he also informs the men that they mustn't leave any witnesses, which would seem innocuous in terms of an action film except for the fact that during this set up Harris cuts to various shots from inside the restaurant, where there are numerous innocent people eating. As a result, Harris subjects his audience to an amazing scene where no one person or one thing is safe from the thugs high-powered attack, and this includes, but is not limited to women, children, vases, liquor bottles, wall art, and plants. Nighthawk and his men shoot everything and anything, no questions asked.

“Take THAT, tequila bottle!”

As wildly satisfying as this moment may be, it’s only 5 minutes later when a nearly identical scene occurs, but this time taking place in a grocery store! And please keep in mind that this all happens within the first 15 minutes of the film. We're talking about an incredible amount of people and even more inanimate objects being shot the hell up, and every last minute is an absolute joy to witness.

While there are plenty of bloody and violent action scenes to be had throughout the entire 80 minute runtime, Killpoint has far more to offer than the giggle worthy action it delivers. Throughout Killpoint, one will find Mexican gangbangers, Richard Roundtree, a karate tournament – which may feature the best martial arts in the film, if that should tell you anything – a cheap hillbilly strip club (complete with pool tables and wood paneling), body builders, and Cameron Mitchell.

Oh, and that Cameron Mitchell...

Camera Mitchell is, as one would expect, as bananas as ever. Playing the kind of ridiculous, over-the-top character that only Cameron Mitchell can play, Joe Marks is a mix of flamboyant psychosis rarely witnessed on screen. Often adorned with a scarf tied around his neck and rocking a pair of oversized sunglasses, Marks loves nothing more than flying off the handle without any warning whatsoever. At one point, and during his introduction no less, Marks is watching a news report about the armory heist, when he suddenly pulls out a massive gun and shoots the TV. After that, he simply laughs and starts talking to the little dog sitting on his lap. Oh, did I mention he carries around a little dog? Well, he does, and not only does he have a little dog, he also loves wearing daisies in his hair while getting drunk in a Jacuzzi with said dog. Like I said, bananas.

Cameron Mitchell is far from the only person deserving of a few laughs, as Lt. James Long (Leo Fong) also brings a lot of awful to the table. One of my favorite moments comes during a scene in which Long – who is clearly harboring a lot of issues due to the fact that his wife was raped and murdered – partakes in an epic training montage where he is visibly driven by silent rage. Within this montage, the viewer is privy to a barrage of imagery featuring Lt. Long doing all sorts of weight training, target practice and sparring (which leads to a small cameo by Bill “Superfoot” Wallace) mixed with close-up shots of Lt. Long staring intently into the camera. And when I say close-up shots of Lt. Long staring intently into the camera, I mean the camera is literally right on his face, where all that is seen is his nose and his eyes (which are frighteningly close together) and those adorable bangs.

Despite being narratively inept and poorly made, Killpoint makes it a point to entertain despite its obvious blemishes. In fact, those blemishes only add to the overall value that the film contains as a piece of cinematic history, and while Killpoint will never be remembered as a classic per say, it will be remembered for being one hell of a fun watch. That is, by the five people who’ve actually seen it.

Demon (2013): Demon Doodie

After being sent to investigate a string of grisly murders, FBI Special Agent Nicole Diaz (Jasmine Waltz) is forced to team up with local police and a pair of shady scientists to hunt down a government created monster with a thirst for blood.

Written by Bernie Felix Jr. and directed by Rob Walker, Demon reeks of ineptitude from moment one, and never does the stench let up. In fact, it gets stronger as the 77 minute runtime sloooooowly ticks by. Now, I have an uncommonly high tolerance for bad movies – maybe even more so than most fans of B-Movies, and it’s rare that a film can test my limits, but Demon does so in a way that is almost unfathomable. Demon pushed my boundaries in a fashion that had me completely checked out by the final act, and nothing makes reviewing a film more difficult than not being able to pay attention to anything other than the runtime.

Despite my crippled attention span, I was able to observe a common through line in Demon, which is Agent Diaz constantly having to prove to men that she is equal to them, something that leads to a number of ridiculously uninspired moments. When she is first introduced, Agent Diaz is seen unconvincingly hitting a punching bag in a gym. Naturally there’s a group of guys watching her every move, with one of the men saying that there’s no way she can be that tough – going on and on about how he could take her out in a heartbeat (because THAT’S manly). In any event, soon enough this sexist sucker attempts to challenge Agent Diaz, only to find himself on his ass, something that I would’ve never seen coming. *cough* sarcasm *cough*

Continuing this motif, there are also a number of times where Agent Diaz is given a hard time by the local yokel police officers for being a female FBI Agent. Like, is it really that difficult to believe that an attractive woman can be a Federal Agent in charge of a huge murder investigation? Maybe it was the white tank top she was wearing. Because a white tank top screams “I’M A PROFESSIONAL! TAKE ME SERIOUSLY!” Maybe she should’ve gone with the tube top instead. With that said, if you’re going to make a statement on equality, hiring a hot lead actress and sticking her Federal Agent character in a tank top seems to defeat the purpose of making a statement on equality.

On a technical level, Demon is a horrifically crafted film filled with poor camera work and sound so terrible that there are moments where you won’t even be able to hear what the characters are saying. Not that any of that matters. Outside of Waltz, the performances are amateurish at best, and absolutely none of the characters are believable in any way whatsoever. At best, Demon might be enjoyable with a few drunken friends, but I cannot imagine the fun would last more than 20 minutes before everyone would get bored and opt to watch a Don Dohler film instead. For you, dear reader, I suggest the same.

Little Corey Gorey (1993): Family Matters

Poor little Corey Gorey (Todd Fortune) simply cannot catch a break. After losing his father in an auto accident, he is forced to live with his rotten stepmother, Betty (Pat Gallagher), and her spoiled son, Biff (Greg Sachs), both of whom live to make Corey’s life a living hell on a daily basis. Betty and Biff take great joy in constantly abusing Corey, who is nothing more to them than a slave; a slave who’s there to fetch beer and clean up after these pathetic losers. You know things are bad for Corey when Betty hangs him from a curtain rod with a belt while Biff throws empty beer cans at him, and all because she couldn’t find the remote control to her TV. The situation is certainly grim for Corey, but just how long can he put up with this abuse before he finally snaps? How far can he be pushed?

Corey is indeed pushed too far, and this happens when Biff steals his Ozzy Osbourne tickets. To make things worse, Biff takes the girl Corey has a crush on to the concert, which is what Corey was planning to do as a way to win her heart. This sets Corey off, forcing him into complete rage mode, and this is where things take a complete turn for Coey and all those who surround him. No longer will Corey be living under the constant abuse of Biff and Betty, and he makes sure of this by killing Biff and then tying Betty to the couch while he goes about enjoying his newfound freedom.  

Much of Little Corey Gorey is focused on all the crazy shit that happens to Corey after he disposes of Biff and puts his loudmouth stepmother out of commission. This includes some random run-ins with a dangerous local Mexican drug dealer, who is holding Corey accountable for the 8-ball he fronted to Biff before he went “missing.” Corey also starts to build a relationship with the girl he has a crush on, Jackie (Brenda Pope), as she ends up moving into his house and, soon enough, the two begin making plans to run away together. Unfortunately, however, Jackie isn’t as great as she seems, and eventually even she screws Corey over.

While Little Corey Gorey was released in 1993, it is instantly apparent that the film has a very ‘80s feel about it. Interestingly enough, the film’s director, William Moroni, posted to IMDB that the film was actually shot around '89, which is certainly more fitting of a year than its actual release date. Seeing as I was 12 or 13 years old in ‘89, some of the locations and the metal influenced fashion really took me back to being a kid. I feel like the locations used in Little Corey Gorey could have been any number of friend’s or family member’s homes that I hung around in as a kid (which is likely because they are real homes), and having the Kiss “inspired” band Creature constantly playing on TV in the background doesn’t hurt that overall feel, either.  

Something else that defines Little Corey Gorey as a film is its lack of budget. The production value is similar to that of a Jan Terri music video, and I say that in as loving a way as possible. It’s low-budget is a part of its charm, and where Little Corey Gorey comes up short in terms of production value, it makes up for with its humor. The movie is meant to be a horror comedy of sorts, and it is indeed quite funny in both an intentional and unintentional fashion. There are some great sight gags as well as a few hysterical lines, my favorite being when Jackie says to Corey, “Let’s go somewhere romantic... like a hotel room!” A lot of the stuff that relates to the stepmother being tied up is surprisingly clever, too, namely the way people are so indifferent to her plight during a massive party that Corey and Jackie throw.

If you feel as if Little Corey Gorey might be the right fit for your movie going life, then you can actually watch the director’s cut of the film, in whole and for free, over at a website that the director has set up. There is also a donation button, too, so if you are feeling generous, donate a few bucks. According to the director and others who worked on the film, no one made any money off Little Corey Gorey, though there are people who have been cashing in on DVD sales (one of which I actually own) and the filmmakers have not received any money as a result. Little Corey Gorey is a total blast and deserving of a bigger status as a cult film, so take 91 min out of your life to give it a whirl.  

Little Corey Gorey Website

Big and Hairy (1998): Like Your Mom

I first became aware of Big and Hairy when the Queen of Incredible herself, Emily of The Deadly Dolls House of Horror Nonsense reviewed it way back in 2012. Her review was the beginning of a legacy, as soon Emily was kind enough to send her copy of the film to The Magnificent Seven Inches himself, Justin “McMuffin” Oberholtzer, who then reviewed it over at his Movienalia blog. While that would seem like a fitting place to end the saga of Big and Hairy, somehow, someway, Emily’s copy of Big and Hairy made its way to my doorstep, and now I, Mattsuzaka, will end this Big and Hairy trilogy in disappointing fashion.

Directed by Philip Spink and based on a NOVEL?! by Brian Daly, 1998’s Big and Hairy is about a kid named Picasso (Robert Burke), who has been forced to relocate from Chicago (it’s ALWAYS Chicago!) to a small island town due to his father landing a great job making *ahem* lawn ornaments. Picasso is having trouble with adjusting to this new place, so to fit in he joins the basketball team that seems to have forgotten that basketball season ends in March (the film is set during the holiday season). However, there’s one issue: Picasso sucks at basketball. When he is first introduced, Picasso has the opportunity to get a big win for his team, the Lawn Ornaments, so long as he can make a couple foul shots. Of course, Picasso chokes, costing the team the game, which should not be a surprise seeing as there wouldn't be any conflict if he was a baller.

Picasso is labeled by his classmates as a “choker,” which to me seems a lot better than being called Picasso, but thankfully he has a supportive coach, Mr. Donovan (Greg Thirloway). Coach Donovan is the kind of fair and balanced coach who, despite popular opinion, will play every kid, no matter how good or bad they are, which is certainly the right thing to do, if you ask me. Though the wrong thing to do is to tuck your polo shirt into your khakis without a belt on. That shit is unacceptable.  

Picasso also receives a lot of support from his loving parents, who are played by Chilton Crane and the always gross Richard Thomas. I have to be candid here and say that Picasso’s parents are, without a doubt, the worst people on the face of the celluloid planet. They're basically a couple of weird hippy parents who dress in Christmas tree skirts and name their kids PIcasso. While they are clearly meant to be funny and over-the-top, I couldn’t help but want to toss gasoline on them before pushing them into a pit of lava, and that was before the scene where they do an interpretive dance, during a game, to a fake version of Stuck In the Middle with You. I fucking hate them.

Anyway, Picasso is still without any real friends, and worse yet, if the Lawn Ornaments can’t get into the *fill-in-the-blank* tournament, then Coach Donovan will be fired. What’s a Picasso to do? Well, the obvious answer is befriending a Bigfoot who is not only friendly but totally nasty at basketball! PERFECT! Not only does Picasso now have a friend to hang out with, he also gets his new buddy to join the basketball team, which results in the Lawn Ornaments crushing every team they face.

Bigfoot (or Ed as they have named him) takes the small town by storm, and soon both Picasso and Ed are the coolest dudes in school, something that seems a little odd seeing as Ed is a SASQUATCH! As Emily perfectly pointed out in her wonderful review of the film, no one seems to give a toss that there is a Sasquatch playing basketball and going to school, let alone that one actually exists. Whether or not Ed seems out of place being, you know, a Sass, I would think that having a dude that hairy around would be unpleasant. Like, there is no possible way that this dude doesn’t smell like total ass. I can imagine his breath is rank, he has to have some serious dingleberries, and I’m sure piss dribbles down his leg and dries onto his fur every time he takes a leak. Try to tell me otherwise.

When it comes to Ed, the only thing that anyone cares about is whether or not the rule book allows him to play basketball. Now, while there’s no rule against a monster playing ball against a bunch of kids, there is a rule against having 13 players. This results in Picasso quitting the team, something that will only lead to his eventual comeback where he steps up and makes the winning shot. Oh, SPOILER ALERT! Sorry.

This release of Big and Hairy comes from Feature Films for Families (which also released The Buttercream Gang), a company based out of Utah and led by Forrest S. Baker III, who, at his best, looks like a rapist. Anyway, this disc’s “special features” includes a special message from Baker III himself, who (couldn’t look any rapier) talks about how their releases contain no profanity, sexuality, violence, or vulgarity. Hunter III believes that rated R movies have a negative impact on society, so he is here to save the world (so he can rape it), but not before he asks for a donation.

While I have no love for loser Feature Films for Families, I will not hold that against Big and Hairy, which is most likely a film that the Mormon company has nothing to do with outside of buying the rights so they can release it on DVD. Though, seeing as they are a company the cleanses the human soul from sin, it’s likely that they edited some content out of Big and Hairy to make it more family friendly, which means there are no Sass on human sex scenes. Oh, well, there’s always that Farrah Abraham porno if you’d like to fill that void.

Sadly, there is no trailer for Big and Hairy, so to make it up to you I will leave you with this nice man:

Jack Frost (1997): Frost Bitten, Twice Shy

En route to his execution, mass murderer Jack Frost (Scott MacDonald) is killed after being involved in an auto accident with a vehicle containing a top secret hazardous material that turns the madman into a living, breathing, pun-spewing killer snowman made out of fabric and oversized oven mitts. And what’s worse than a living, breathing, pun-spewing killer snowman made out of fabric and oversized oven mitts? A living, breathing, pun-spewing killer snowman made out of fabric and oversized oven mitts that’s looking to take vengeance on the small town sheriff that had him put away.

1997’s Jack Frost specializes in overly ridiculous entertainment. It’s pretty much inherent to the storyline, as the moment you mention “killer snowman” it is impossible to hold back some sort of an eye raising smirk. When a filmmaker comes up with an idea as goofy as a killer snowman, the best thing to do is embrace the humor of the situation, which is exactly what director Michael Cooney does with Jack Frost. Jack Frost is as much a stupid horror movie as it is a foolish comedy, which can be a difficult balancing act, especially if you aren’t able to deliver some genuine laughs.

As a comedy, Jack Frost has some genuinely humorous moments; however, while some of the jokes land well, there are also plenty that fall flat. At times, certain situations are effectively more humorous than their execution, and the fact that the film avoids going too far over the top and into that late-era Troma type of territory makes it an infinitely more tolerable watch. That’s not to say that Jack Frost isn’t over the top, because it is; it’s just far less obnoxious than it could be.

Jack Frost is notable as the film debut of Shannon Elizabeth. However, it’s even more notable for being the film where Shannon Elizabeth’s character, Jill, is raped by Jack Frost while taking a bath. The sight of a killer snowman sexually abusing a girl with his carrot is mind-bogglingly outrageous. In fact, the entire situation is as stupid as it is funny as it is offensive, but if it wasn’t all three of those things, then it certainly wouldn’t be nearly as memorable a scene as it is.

 

*Obligatory paragraph dedicated to the Michael Keaton starring Jack frost and the irony that comes from two human/snowman movies being released within a few years of one another, yet one is a family film while the other is a low-grade horror flick*

Director Michael Cooney has a very scant amount of directing credits to his name. Three to be exact -- with two of them being of the Jack Frost variety. His writing credits are slightly more impressive (save for that horrific ending to 2003’s Identity), but I think it’s safe to say that he will forever be associated with the creation of Jack Frost. I suppose things could be worse for someone in the film business. It’s better to be remembered as the guy who wrote and directed those killer snowman movies than the guy that no one remembers at all. And no amount of antifreeze can take that away from him.

Outside of a few exceptions, 1996 wasn’t a banner year for what you could call great horror cinema. The year brought about a bevy of awful direct to video sequels to franchises that had already long overstayed their welcome. On the other end, there were some original movies that hit the horror scene, but many of those ended up being toilet bound. It’s tough to say if the toilet is the destination for a film like Jack Frost, as it’s simply one of those movies that will draw the ire of some while bringing a certain joy to others. I suppose it all comes down to the type of movie fan you are.

Ninjavember: Bionic Ninja (1986)

When the average person thinks of ninja movies, director Godfrey Ho often comes to mind. Actually, scratch that. When cult/genre movie geeks think of ninja movies, director Godfrey Ho often comes to mind. While Ho is a filmmaker who is often associated with the ninja genre, it is very rarely done so in a respectable fashion. In fact, outside of a small handful of movies, much of Ho’s work is what many would consider to be so bad it’s good, and that’s an opinion that falls firmly on the nicer end of the scale. However, it’s that so bad it’s good symmetry that makes Godfrey Ho’s work in the genre so memorable. Whether or not the average moviegoer can appreciate his brand of cinema, this notoriety is a worthy achievement in my eyes.

Outside of being behind many a ninja film during the genre’s heyday in the ‘80s, Ho is also closely associated with a specific brand of cut-and-paste filmmaking, wherein he would take footage from one film and splice it into footage from any number of other movies. In doing so, Ho effectively, or not really effectively, created a brand new movie altogether, ready to be packed up and sold under a veil of facetiousness. This leads us to Bionic Ninja, a 1986 release that pairs up footage from the 1984 Kent Cheng action/comedy, The Daring Kung Fu Refugee, with footage that Ho directed to give it that much needed ninja edge.

It’s the footage that Ho directed that does its best to drive the “storyline,” focusing on a secret agent named Tommy Foster who is sent to Hong Kong to retrieve a, and I quote, “top technical secret film.” And believe you me, there is nothing more frightening than a secret film, especially when it’s of the top technical variety. The top technical secret film was stolen by a group of KGB hired ninjas––because that’s simply how things work in Godfrey Ho’s world––so Tommy is in for the fight of his life if he wants to retrieve the top technical secret film and save the world from KGB/ninja domination. Or something like that.

While this plot sounds fairly easy to follow, making complete logistical sense even, on a whole Bionic Ninja is a jumbled mess of random scenes from a Godfrey Ho directed movie about ninjas mixed with another movie that’s not about ninjas. It only takes me about 5 minutes before I am completely lost in this flick, something that happens with a fair amount of Ho’s movies. I don’t even know why I try to comprehend what is happening on screen, because it only results in a migraine inducing level of thought not worthy of my miniscule brain power.

There are portions of Bionic Ninja where my mind goes numb in a fashion that causes my soul to exit my body, look down on my physical self, and spew judgment at my movie choice for the evening. This is partially due to the complexity of the plot (of which there isn’t any) as much as it has to do with the long scenes of unnecessary dialogue, all of which come from the portions of Bionic Ninja not directed by Ho. The entire thing clearly does not fit together, so anything that isn’t top technical secret film related only works as boring and confusing. With that said, the martial arts in the scenes taken from The Daring Kung Fu Refugee are legitimately good, and exude a level of competence unsuitable to the project as a whole.

But where The Daring Kung Fu Refugee delivers some solid martial arts action, it is the portions of Bionic Ninja that are directed by Godfrey Ho that truly make the film a reasonably entertaining watch. Despite his reputation as a cut-and-paste filmmaker, Ho certainly knows how to deliver the cheesy goods, something that he does in spades with his portion of Bionic Ninja.

This is especially true with Tommy Foster, who can often be seen wearing a yellow tank top with matching yellow sweatpants, complete with dirt stains on his backside. When Tommy’s isn’t busy trying to locate the top technical secret film, he rocks his days away training with the heart and ferocity of a lion. This results in some brilliant scenes of Tommy practicing his tumbling, fine-tuning his swordplay and working on his shuriken throwing skills, all of which are done in a public park. Because that’s completely legal.

Seeing as Bionic Ninja is a ninja film, and a bionic one at that *SPOILER* there are no bionic ninjas *SPOILER END*, the ninjas do play an integral role in the ridiculousness that the film serves up. Here are a few examples of the ninja antics found in Bionic Ninja:

• The KGB hired ninja clan (I could stop there) are led by the always elusive “White Ninja.”
• Ninjas have the ability to realistically jump cut into and out of a scene at any given moment. Ninjas take a cab.
• Ninjas take a cab without their ninja masks on, which I think defeats the purpose of being a ninja.
• Ninjas always move in synchronized motions.
• The final battle consists of the inevitable white ninja VS. red ninja, which is equal parts ridiculous and awesome.

Anyway, I think you smell what my ninja smoke bomb is cooking.

While not coming even close to being a highlight on Godfrey Ho’s filmography, Bionic Ninja is enjoyable enough for those who enjoy the filmmaker’s work. The enjoyment of the movie comes from the hilarity that Ho brought to the table, which makes me wish he had simply made an entire movie full of Tommy/top technical secret film action. If that had been the case, we might have ended up with something closer to the insanely enjoyable Undefeatable, instead of the typical hit or miss patchwork film that Ho is best known for.

This Ninjatastic review is in conjunction with NINJAVEMBER, a special ninja themed blog-a-thon hosted by the menacing yellow ninja, Karl Brezdin. Head over to the deserted island ninja training camp known as Fist of B-List to keep up with all the ninjacentric goodies to come!

HauntedWeen (1991): Grand Guig-ghoul

20 years after an innocent prank at a haunted house goes horribly wrong, a college fraternity becomes the target of a madman who plans to crash their haunted house and turn it into a true house of horrors.   

Directed and co-written by Doug Robertson, HauntedWeen is an extremely low-budget slasher film set during the most wonderful time of the year: Halloween. The film was shot in Bowling Green, Kentucky, and quickly establishes itself with a distinct look from many horror films of the era, and this is specifically due to its ‘Bluegrass State’ setting.

HauntedWeen begins with a flashback to the accidental murder of a girl by the hands of a mentally deficient boy named Eddie Burber (Craig Bitterling and Ethan Adler). The murder occurs in a haunted house that Eddie’s family puts on every Halloween, and this haunted house setting mixes nicely with a soft focus lense that results in the flashback having an aesthetically appeasing nightmare like quality. Despite its obvious low-budget, this opening sets a nice mood that feels somewhat reminiscent to another low-budget horror film, David Prior’s Sledgehammer. Though, with HauntedWeen, things are a tad more sensible.

From there the movie jumps forward twenty years later, where the before mentioned fraternity is - in true ‘save the rec center’ fashion - forced to come up with X amount of dollars or else they'll lose their recognition as a national fraternity. Their first fundraising idea comes in the form of a pay to play party, but that leads to little more than money for more beer. However, in an odd turn of events, a strange man gives the frat members permission to use his abandoned home to host a haunted house and, in turn, make the money they need to keep their frat going. This location is the perfect place to hold a killer haunted house, especially since it’s the same house where the young girl was murdered 20 years earlier.  

HauntedWeen features a nice mix of low-budget cheese and a surprising level of competence, both of which keeps the film enjoyable for the long, non-horror stretch that occurs during much of the first half. As one would expect, there’s a lot of terrible acting. On the other hand, though, there’s also some surprisingly okay performances, too. There are also a lot of funny moments, some of which are unintentional, and some that are genuinely worthy of a laugh or two, and this is most evident in the sporadic lines of clever dialogue strewn throughout. Something else that should be noted is the complimentary music that comes with your stay at HauntedWeen; music that mostly consists of pre-set, uptempo Jazz from a Casio. The Vince Guaraldi Trio this is not.

The final act of HauntedWeen takes place in the fraternity’s haunted house where Eddie makes his big appearance. In a seemingly typical fashion, Eddie begins slaying characters left and right, but where things really get exciting is how these deaths lead to a showcase horror moment where Eddie puts on a real showstopper for the patrons of the haunted house; a show they’ll be sure to remember for years to come.  

Ushered by the cheering sounds of an oblivious audience, Eddie delivers a Grand Guignol inspired performance that involves various victims being tortured to death. With each slice and dice Eddie makes, the audience grows all the more excited. To them this is all just a good bit of fun. Naturally, this Grand Guignol style of cinema madness has been seen in numerous exploitation and horror films in the past, but rarely are they featured in what would otherwise be a typical slasher film. In that sense, such an approach is quite refreshing, never mind completely enjoyable in its execution.

In the vast ocean of shitty-to-mediocre low-budget slasher films that offer nothing more than a sigh from their viewers, HauntedWeen is truly a hidden gem that shines brightly due to the obvious care the filmmakers put into entertaining their audience. That’s not to say that the film isn’t without its faults, and of course there are some silly moments, but all of these things add to the entertainment value as oppose to taking away from it. HauntedWeen is simply good, home cooked fun from a group of people with their hearts in the right place.

The Last Slumber Party (1988): The Doctor is In... SANE!

It’s the last day of high school and Linda, Tracy and Chris (Joann Whitley, Nancy Mayer and Jan Jenson) are looking to kickoff their summer with a bumpin’ slumber party at Linda's house. Complete with alcohol, loud music and a few totally hot guys, surely this is a radical way to begin one’s freedom from the tyranny of high school. However, unbeknownst to the girls, there’s an insane mental patient on the loose. And to make matters worse, it just so happens that Linda’s father is the mental patient’s doctor, making Linda’s home the prime target for this scalpel wielding psychopath.

Directed by Stephen “don’t call me Steven” Tyler, The Last Slumber Party is best described as such: if Halloween and The Slumber Party Massacre had an incestuous baby, and that baby born of incest fell from its crib and hit its head on a nail embedded cinder block every night of its life, then you would have yourself a fairly good idea of what The Last Slumber Party is like.

The comparison to The Slumber Party Massacre is obvious, and certainly not unfamiliar territory for numerous sleepover slasher flicks of the era, but the Halloween influence is a whole other ballgame. To say The Last Slumber Party is inspired by Halloween is like saying that John Carpenter looks a little old, and this is most notable with the film’s three female leads. From the way they talk, act, the specific personality that each girl has, and even the way in which they are filmed, Linda, Tracy and Chris are essentially carbon copies of Laurie, Annie and Lynda from Halloween. Though these carbon copies seem to have spent a little too much time in the sun eating rock salt covered tree bark.  

Outside of the Halloween influences, something else that is immediately obvious about The Last Slumber Party is just how insanely cheap it is as a piece of “cinema.” The acting is awful, and the filmmaking is completely amateurish. Furthermore, the sound design is horrific, with moments that are particularly astounding in their lack of quality. This is most obvious in an early scene where it’s nearly impossible to differentiate between the score, a talking teacher and a group of loud-mouth teenagers. There is also another hysterically inept scene where one of the girls is talking on the phone (in another Halloween-esque moment), and the girl on the other end of the line is clearly talking from just off camera to make it sound as if she’s actually on the phone.

Magnum P.I. photobombing like it’s no one’s business!

The killer (played with brilliance by the film’s director, Stephen “don’t call me Steven” Tyler) also delivers a high level of entertainment in a fashion that is nothing short of ridiculous. Adorned with a pair of doctors scrubs and a surgical mask, this mental madman spends 90% of his screen time making crazy eyes directly at the camera. The kills, which consist of scalpel induced throat slashes and nothing else, are also cheap in their simplicity. Though, in all honesty, I’d rather have cheap throat slashes than a copout off-screen kill.  

Depending on your taste, the lack of quality found in The Last Slumber Party could work for or against it. While I wouldn’t consider it an upper tier B-Movie, it’s an amusing watch that will play perfectly to a crowd of drunken friends or to that specific horror fan who enjoys these types of bad movies. Namely me.

Dreamaniac (1986): And She’s Killing Like She’s Never Killed Before

Steeped in ‘80s youth culture, David DeCoteau's début feature film, Dreamaniac, takes bits and pieces of all that was popular at the time, particularly heavy metal and the A Nightmare on Elm Street series. With a tagline such as "You don't have to live on Elm Street to have a Nightmare," it is clear that the target audience the film was aiming for was the Freddy crowd. In the same vein, this was a time when heavy metal was at its most popular (and most controversial), so the mixture was a no brainer for any cheap horror film looking to turn a few bucks. Not that that's a bad thing, mind you.

Despite the film's brilliant hybrid title and the promise of a female version of Freddy Krueger, Dreamaniac has very little-to-nothing to do with the dream world. In fact, the only time there is any actual dream sequence would be within the first five minutes where the audience is introduced to Adam (and his ass) and Lilly (re: The Succubus!), the women who Adam has been having sexually driven dreams about. After Lilly puts a kink in Adam's hose by killing him within this opening dream sequence, he wakes up, and this would be about the point where the dream portion of Dreamaniac ends. Maybe it should have been called Awakeiac.

Soon after the opening dream sequence, it is learned that Adam is a professional heavy metal lyrics writer (wait…what?) who is living on his own in a secluded area so he can focus on his work. Oh, and so he can privately focus on his satanic rituals, which he actually uses to bring Lilly out from his dreams and into the real world. To be honest, I'm really not sure why he does this. First off, Adam has a gorgeous girlfriend named Pat (Kim McKamyshe aka Ashlyn Gere!), which is actually a total surprise considering Adam’s style consists of a sleeveless Def leppard t-shirt, gold rimmed glasses, ripped jeans, and short (for a metal guy), blonde feathered hair. You know, the outfit of choice for most any kid who plays Dungeons & Dragons and kills small animals to feed their sexual urges.

Much of the film (well, all) is set in Adam's home, which is being used by Pat's sister to throw a party as a way to get into the good graces of a sorority she is trying to join. The partygoers consist of the usual hipster dweeb, the snotty - but oh-so entertaining - bitch, the lame-o jock, a valley girl, and every other stereotype you can imagine. These would all become the cattle for Dreamaniac's killer, Lilly (Sylvia Summers), as she works her way around the house using her powers of seduction to slay all of its inhabitants. This leads to what is a slew of sexually driven scenes filled with enough male tighty whiteys (and the butts behind them) to have granted a sponsorship from Fruit of the Loom. And with DeCoteau at the helm, it's not a surprise.

While Dreamaniac is filled with some hysterical dialogue (and I mean HYSTERICAL!), terrible music and bad acting, it is a film that tried to be more than just any old cheap ‘80s Slasher film. I've never seen or read anything to support this, but there seems to be a clear Italian influence as far as the film’s style goes. With liberal use of fog, colored gels and stilted camera angles to portray atmosphere, I couldn't help but think that people like Argento, Fulci and possibly Soavi were aesthetically very influential for DeCoteau. Granted, it's not anything to be impressed with, but I commend the attempt at creating a sense of style instead of simply mailing it in.

Released in 1986 by the long defunct and pre-Full Moon distribution company, Wizard Video (which fell under the Empire Pictures umbrella), Dreamaniac is one hell of a good time. Even if it doesn't deliver anything that it promises to, it's worth a watch for any fan of bad cinema looking for a quick chuckle. Furthermore, anyone who is interested in taking a deep look into the inner workings of a heavy metal songwriter will certainly be pleased with this one. Before I sign off, however, I feel I should mention that the VHS box art is simply wonderful, but what really shines most is the pure fact that the crazed looking Clint Howard look-alike is absolutely nowhere to be found in this film whatsoever. Like, not at all. That kind of tells you everything you need to know about Dreamaniac right there.

Who needs the trailer when you can watch the entire film?!

Undefeatable (1994): I’ll Take My Steak Rare and With A Side of Ass

*Disclaimer!* I wrote a handful of articles for a now defunct e-zine called BthroughZ some years back, and when that site went belly up, so didn’t the reviews I wrote for it. I didn’t want to lose the articles I worked so hard to write, so over the next few months I will be reposting them here for your enjoyment.

"Out of the ring, into the fire...in a fight to the finish!" is the battle cry tagline for the 1994 Martial Arts epic, Undefeatable. Funny thing about that tag line though, is there’s only one scene with an actual boxing ring in it. But I suppose that doesn’t matter seeing as the man fighting within this ring is the almighty Stingray, a man so badass that his actual job is to kick ass and kick a lot of it.

With intense baby blues and a full bodied, shoulder length mullet, Stingray (Don Niam) is one of the most intense characters you'll ever see in a direct to DVD karate movie from 1994 starting Cynthia Rothrock. Though, being a super badass is simply not as easy as one would think. I mean, even Stingray’s own wife, Anna (Emille Davazac), is deathly afraid of him. I suppose you really can’t blame her, though. When a normal man comes home from work, a nice hot dinner waiting at the dinner table is pretty friggin awesome. Well, awesome if you're a pussy. When you're Stingray, however, you expect a nice hot piece of Anna ass when you get home from a hard day of busting heads, THEN dinner would come next. Regardless, Anna doesn't quite understand this ‘theory’ and decides that leaving her husband is a better idea than getting raped everyday at 5:22 PM.

Unfortunately for Anna, Stingray has major mama trauma issues, and leaving him just adds fuel to his unstable fire. You simply do not leave Stingray; Stingray leaves you... Dead! Now completely out of his gourd, Stingray sets out to find Anna, but his rage seems to cloud his senses, causing him to mistake any woman who shares Anna's red hair color, and floral dress fashion sense, for being his wife. Apparently, there were numerous red heads rockin' floral dresses back in the mid-90s, because Stingray finds plenty of them. And naturally, he proceeds to rape, torture, and then murder each and every one of them. What’s funny though, is that most of the women who Stingray runs into seem to be - or be with, someone who is trained in the Martial Arts. The chances are low, but in the mid-90s anything can happen. Fanny Pack popularity is my proof of that.

One of the unfortunate Anna look-alikes who happens to cross Stingray's path also happens to have a sister named Kristi, who just so happens to be played by Cynthia Rothrock, who also happens to be the toughest person to ever be in a movie called Fast Getaway. Kristi is not all too thrilled that her sister was murdered, so she goes on a quest to find and kill the man behind her death: Stingray! But before we get into all that, I’d like to take a moment to talk a little bit about Kristi's backstory. Kristi is a straight up street thug, and when she isn't waiting tables and serving lunch at her restaurant job, she's making cash busting heads and serving knuckle sandwiches in underground street fights. Furthermore, Kristi is also the only white chick in an all Asian gang called the Dragon Claws or Paws or some shit. Either way, this is one of the toughest street gangs around with all three members basically being a ‘90s version of the vicious ‘30s street gang known as the Three Stooges.

How does a good-looking white chick get into an all Asian gang? Because she got the skills to pay the bills when it comes to whopping dat ass, and much like a female version of Lionheart (Lionessheart?), Kristi makes a living by fighting in an underground fight club. Through this criminal act, Kristi meets Detective Nick DiMarco (John Miller), who hauls her to jail for her illegal underground fighting activities. Nick is a good cop and a good guy; he is also a pretty sick Martial Artist himself, which is just so crazy considering how many people are so competent at ancient fighting styles in this film. Anyway, Nick sees something in Kristi (*cough* tits *cough*); he sees that she's a good kid who is just a little lost and needs some guidance down the right path... to his pants.  

Nick's spot on thoughts about Kristi are confirmed when he learns that the living she earns by fighting is not necessarily for herself. Instead, she uses the money to pay Anna’s medical school tuition. You see, Kristi wants to see her good-natured sister do well in life and is willing to risk her life by fighting to make that happen. However, in case you might have forgotten, Stingray stung Kristi's sister and Nick happens to be the man on the case, so naturally both Nick and Kristi must come together as a team to find and destroy the menace known as Stingray! Who will end this film as the one who is most Undefeatable? That's up to the one with the most desire to be the best, or the one who can conjure up the most sweat perhaps.

Most people know of Undefeatable from the infamous “Worst and/or best fight scene ever” YouTube clips, but it's so much more than that. It's a Godfrey Ho film, who for some strange reason used his secret name of Godfrey Hall on this Hong Kong produced American action film. Godfrey Ho is infamous for making trillions of Ninja movies in the ‘80s (well, one ninja film used a trillion times). These were the kind of Ninja movies where the Ninjas were proven to be Ninjas because they would have the word Ninja embroidered on their headbands. Undefeatable is not a Ninja film, but it is a Martial Arts film, and one that many might consider to be pretty much trash.

Personally, I could not disagree more. Sure, the film is awful, the dialogue is ridiculous, the acting poor, and all the sets consist of warehouses and factories, complete with steel drums and empty cardboard boxes. With that said, it's entertaining as all hell and for so many reasons, too. Stingray drives a '84 Plymouth Voyager, just like the one my mom had! But unfortunately, my mom never wore a sleeveless jean jacket like Stingray. To go with his jacket of jean, Stingray even spray paints purple stripes down the sides of his hair, because, well, I actually have no idea why he does this but he does, and it's awesome.

While there may be a handful of awkward and, quite frankly, odd moments strewn throughout, the fight scenes are more than competent and, at times, somewhat impressively done. However, a great deal of that credit goes to the cast of well-trained Martial Artists displaying a multitude of fighting styles and techniques. Bad and cheesy Undefeatable may be, but some of these actors are very impressive, and even the sight of John Miller's huge hairy tits cannot distract me from this fact. In all seriousness, Cynthia Rothrock is no joke and is easily one of the highest-ranking female Martial Artists to grace the screen, so it’s always a joy to watch her do what she does best. I must say, however, that I have never been so jealous of the ground than when Rothrock does the splits.

Undefeatable is a mess, but unlike the kind of mess your grandma makes after too much applesauce, it’s a fun mess to spend time with. When the male leads in a film rip off their shirts just to show off their extremely oiled and firm male breasts, or a character is proven to be tough by wearing chains OVER his Champion sweatshirt, it’s a pretty good indication that you should simply let all of your inhibitions go. It's just one of those movies that is a waste of time to hate for being bad, and doing so will do nothing but make you sad inside. If you can embrace the insanity of what you are witnessing on screen, then you too may become... Undefeatable. See ya!