American horror

Night Angel

Night Angel (1990)

The newest model at Siren Magazine just happens to be Lilith (Isa Jank), a man-devouring demon. Despite the fact that the leading men at the magazine office are being killed in horrible ways, a new romance springs up between Siren reporter Craig (Linden Ashby) and jewelry designer (and boss’s daughter) Kirstie (Debra Feuer). Soon, Craig and Kirstie discover that everyone at Siren Magazine has become obsessed with Lilith and are becoming increasingly deranged and violent. The two are approached by Sadie (Helen Martin), an old mystic whose husband was devoured by Lilith many years ago. Sadie vows to destroy the demon before she breaths her final breath. When Kirstie is kidnapped by one of Lilith’s zombie-like followers, it is up to Craig and Sadie to send her back to Hell.

Oh, Night Angel, where have you been all my life? Probably at the video store. This film is one of those forehead-slappers I should have checked out ages ago. Directed by Dominique Othenin-Girard (Halloween 5, After Darkness), this very odd film goes the distance with strangeness, trashiness, as well as some eye-opening gore and special effects sequences. The writing is decent enough despite some thinly conceived characters and wince-inducing dialogue. Camerawork by David Lewis (Night of the Demons) is excellent with some tricky editing (read as: pointless slow motion) from Jerry Brady (also Halloween 5).

The acting isn’t great but it’s serviceable considering the material. Isa Jank gets pretty hot and heavy (well her blatantly obvious body double does anyway) in her role as the evil Lilith. Linden Ashby (of Mortal Kombat fame) is here to play our hero-ish guy, Craig. Debra Feuer is suitable as his love interest, Kirstie (yawn). Ken, the resident nerd, is played by Doug Jones (Hellboy) who grows quite creepy after he is enslaved by Lilith. The wildly prolific cult actress, Karen Black (Trilogy of Terror, The Pyx), turns in an outlandish performance as Rita, editor of Siren Magazine. Then there’s sassy Sadie, played by Helen Martin who’s been in everything from Death Wish to “Good Times” to Repo Man to 50 other thankless bit parts.

What amazes me about Night Angel is just how outrageous it gets. Subtle it is not! Just when I thought things were starting to slow down, the film goes bonkers. There’s a nightmarish bondage orgy-like scene with poor Craig looking awfully disturbed as all kinds of monstrosities are rolled out merely for the sake of some sweaty soft-focus weirdness. There is a gifted (well endowed, that is) young actress named Susie Sparks (of Smothering Tits 1 and 2) who plays a character called “Woman with Faces under Breasts”. Mm-hmm, you get the idea. Don’t listen to all those knuckleheads on IMDB, this one satisfies all your deepest darkest desires of late 80s horror (or early 1990s horror) and then some.

“Oh my gosh, would you look at the rib melons on this babe!”

Office Killer

Office Killer (1997)

Carol Kane plays Dorine Douglas, a proofreader for the struggling magazine, Constant Consumer. One night, while working late to get an article finished on time, Dorine accidentally electrocutes blowhard Gary (David Thornton), one of her co-workers. Instead of calling the police, Dorine takes Gary’s body home, unbeknownst to her crippled and senile mother (played by Alice Drummond).

Now, Dorine is bent on removing all the cruel and dishonest workers from her office. One of the writers, Kim (Molly Ringwald) sees right through Dorine’s mousy exterior but can’t find any proof of foul play. Norah (Jeanne Tripplehorne), a consultant who is responsible for the company’s downsizing, soon learns that her embezzlement may carry a punishment worse than prison once Dorine finds out.

The multi-talented Cindy Sherman directs this very quirky and dark horror comedy. Despite its hokey and often unbelievable plot, the amount of style dedicated to Office Killer is incredible. The many subtle, quiet moments and creepy scenes mix very well with the campy feel of the storyline. The cinematography of Russell Lee Fine is sharp and well realized, often giving the film a documentary feel.

Carol Kane (When a Stranger Calls, Pandemonium) is perfect as the very disturbed Dorine. Kane really cranks up the crazy dial, especially during the scenes in which she talks to the corpses in her basement. Molly Ringwald does a fair job of playing the skeptical and bitchy Kim but comes off as overly whiny and distracting in places. The beautiful Jeanne Tripplehorne also has some trouble with the role of Norah and her performance seems forced. Luckily, Tripplehorne gets it together for the film’s climax and portrays a thoroughly terrified and desperate person.

Although it has its faults, Office Killer is a fun horror flick. Some of the performances are too mechanical and the plot has some stretches of the imagination. But its offbeat style will appeal to those looking for something strange to watch. Surprisingly, there are some gory and brutal moments that add to the pulp novel feel of the film. I can only hope that Cindy Sherman returns to the genre and delivers another pulpy and goopy horror flick.

Haunts

Haunts (1977)

A mad slasher is wreaking havoc in a small town and the investigation is slow-going with alcoholic Sheriff Peterson (Aldo Ray) on the job. The list of suspects keep growing and it seems like every attractive lady is in danger. One of the town’s most eligible bachelorettes, Ingrid (May Britt), only narrowly escapes becoming another victim herself. Things get worse when local bad-boy Frankie (William Gray Espy) takes a break from his shenanigans with the sheriff’s daughter to give Ingrid his unwanted attentions. The already unstable Ingrid begins to crack as more and more of her horrible past comes back to haunt her.

Herb Freed directs Haunts, a bizarre little piece of filmmaking from the wonderful 1970s. More than just a proto-slasher, the film seems influenced by Robert Altman’s Images and Polanski’s Repulsion but with a trashy small town twist. What caught my attention with Haunts is the amazing editing job here. There is excellent use of intercutting between the present day and Ingrid’s memories of her painful past. The score by Pino Donaggio (Dressed to Kill) is very good and helps to give the film a much needed emotional edge. A kitschy and flat synthesizer score would have not been as welcome here.

May Britt is a great looking actress and can physically convey the emotional rollercoaster that her character is going through but her odd delivery of dialogue is really off-putting. Her Swedish accent isn’t so thick that I can’t understand her. No, the problem lies in the emotionless way that she speaks. Even though Britt sounds like a dang robot, she still manages to hold her own in a fairly difficult role. The worst line in the movie is when someone explains that Ingrid’s accent is due to the fact that she was raised in a “European orphanage up the coast”.

The rest of the cast of Haunts keep it together including Aldo Ray as Sheriff Peterson, who is a total drunken mess. Aldo Ray is actually pretty good here, especially when Peterson finds out his daughter has been making whoopee with Frankie, the town screw-up. My favorite actress in the film is Susan Nohr as Nel, the brazen but loveable hussy who falls prey to the scissor-wielding killer. Every scene with her is a treat.

Of course, the wacky scenery-chewer himself, Cameron Mitchell (Blood and Black Lace, Minnesota Clay), is on board and he is as painfully cheesy as usual. Not that anyone could steal Mitchell’s crazy fire but he is just one of many small town wackos in this flick. For instance, William Gray Espy makes an awesome ne’er-do-well and plain old lascivious duder. And there’s always the shy and creepy new guy in town, Bill Spry, played efficiently by Robert Hippard.

Much like his 1981 slasher flick, Graduation Day, director Herb Freed’s Haunts is a near miss, an almost-classic with a lot of potential that never really hits its stride. There are some great ideas but they just aren’t executed all that well. For instance, the movie has two endings with a labored final denouement that will have you begging for mercy. When all is said and done, Haunts is a kooky but sleepy pre-Halloween slasher (with gratuitous goat-milking) that’s worth a look if you happen to stumble across a copy at the flea market.

“Go back to Baltimore, you dumb creep!”

The Driller Killer

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The Driller Killer (1979)

Reno Miller (Abel Ferrara) is a sensitive artist trying to get by in New York City. No one around him, not even his girlfriend Carol (Carolyn Marz), knows that Reno is starting to lose his mind. Armed with a large drill and a portable battery (called a “Porto-Pack”), he heads out onto the seedy streets at night murdering homeless people. Things only get worse (yes, even worse) after his art dealer passes on buying Reno’s latest masterpiece and Carol leaves him for her estranged husband. Now, Reno is mad.

Smear on some white pancake makeup, throw back a fistful of uppers, and most importantly: “play this film loud”! Before directing his cult masterpiece, Ms. 45, director and actor Abel Ferrara made this nihilistic vomit-poem for his beloved New York City. The Driller Killer is a trash cinema classic with a big chip on its shoulder. Thanks to this film’s infamous censorship problems in England (making the Video Nasty list), most viewers are under-whelmed (to say the least) when they catch a glimpse of The Driller Killer.

The major problem with the film is pacing. It runs about 10 minutes too long with the seemingly endless rehearsal footage of Tony Coca Cola and The Roosters (the punk band that moves in next door to Reno). And I actually like the band (for some reason) but it’s just too much. However, the high body count, Reno’s hellish hallucinations, the bristling soundtrack, and the sheer delusional nature of the whole film more than make up for the slow pace.

This disgusting heap of a film fearlessly revels in its excesses with its exploitative footage of New York’s homeless (you guys all signed release forms, right?), a gratuitous lesbian shower scene, and even a pointless animal carcass dissection. But you know what? It couldn’t have happened any other way. Bloody, offensive, overlong, overrated, and sometimes even genuinely funny, I love The Driller Killer as much as it can be loved which is completely and not at all.

“No, no, no, no, this isn’t right. This is nothing! This is shit!”

Wood Chipper Massacre

woodchippermassacre

Wood Chipper Massacre (1989)

When dad goes on a business trip, he leaves Aunt Tess (Patricia McBride) in charge of his three kids for the weekend. John (Jon McBride), the oldest, is doing some yard work and is using the woodchipper (heh heh heh) to take care of some dead branches. Denise (Denice Edeal), the middle kid, is more concerned with her crush on a boy than anything else. And Tom (Tom Casiello), the youngest, is eagerly awaiting his mail order survival knife.

Much to the three kids’ dismay, Aunt Tess turns out to be a total battleaxe. She tries to get the kids into shape by attacking how their father has raised them since their mother died. John and his siblings put up with her as best they can until Tom accidentally stabs Aunt Tess to death. The three decide to dispose of her body with the woodchipper. Everything is about to return back to normal when Aunt Tess’s deadbeat son, Kim (Kim Bailey) turns up looking for money to pay off his gambling debts.

I think every kid has accidentally stabbed an unpleasant relative to death and then shoved the body into a conveniently-placed woodchipper at least once in their lives. It’s a common “coming of age” moment that everyone can relate to. Well, maybe not but Woodchipper Massacre makes it all look so easy and so dang fun. Jon McBride (Cannibal Campout, Among Us) directs this very 80s shot-on-video horror film. The soundtrack is wildly silly, the gore effects are nearly nonexistent, the acting is strictly after school drama club (even the adults), and the budget is miniscule at best. However, Woodchipper Massacre has got a bizarre charm that is as hard to deny as it is to identify.

I can’t help but love the cast on this one. Denice Edeal and Tom Casiello both missed their calling on “You Can’t Do That On Television”. Edeal makes up for lack of experience on camera by shouting her lines and forcing her every facial expression to the breaking point. Awesome. Tom Casiello is the 80s Everykid (perhaps just a little more geeky) and is easily the one having the most fun on camera. Jon McBride plays eldest brother John pretty well but his mom, Patricia McBride, really steals the show. Aunt Tess is one of those unnerving characters that you just want to strangle the minute they open their mouths.

Woodchipper Massacre is quite entertaining with only a few missteps in the pacing. The film takes a little while to get going but the 80s vibe certainly saves it for me during these (thankfully) short stretches of awkwardness. While essentially free from gore and exploitation (other than the lurid title and bloody cover art), the film is actually funny and charming. The interaction of three “kids”, McBride, Edeal, and Casiello, helps add to the sitcom feel which actually makes the film an even stranger experience. I can’t get over the ballsiness of McBride and company to actually put a heartwarming and decidedly happy ending on this one.

“Call that little tramp and tell her to corrupt somebody else tonight!”

 

Skeleton Man

skeletonman

Skeleton Man (2004)

A hooded skeletal creature is killing people in the woods near a research base. A team of soldiers, lead by Captain Leary (Michael Rooker), is sent in to find and destroy this creature. Unfortunately, this creature is the possessed spirit of a mad Native American warrior and is virtually unstoppable. It is up to the surviving members of Leary’s team to find a way to destroy the creature.

This disaster of a movie was directed by longtime stuntman and first time director, Johnny Martin. The dialogue is laughable, the plot is inane, and the performances from the actors lack any personality or gumption. The film contains some brief gory moments but nothing outstanding. There is a nasty exploding head, impalements, and even a grotesque (yet half-assed) pit of bodies. Even the gratuitous machinegun fire and explosions can’t make Skeleton Man even remotely exciting.

There are an uncountable number of opportunities for viewers to go “huh?” and “what?” during the film. At around 45 minutes, the film’s already shaky narrative completely breaks down when Casper Van Dien’s (Starship Troopers, Sleepy Hollow) stunt double goes for a little joyride in a tractor trailer which results in a nice explosion. I can’t imagine Van Dien being too busy to be filmed driving a truck. But sure enough, shots of a faceless stunt actor and shots of Van Dien making faces from different parts of the film are intercut into this unholy abomination of a scene.

Now onto the creature that terrorizes the protagonists (and viewers) of Skeleton Man. First of all, there’s nothing scary about a monster in a shiny black polyester bonnet and cape ensemble. Also, despite the silliness of the creature’s mask, there are shots in the film where the actor’s nose can be seen where the skeleton’s nasal cavity should be. And finally, the whole Predator thing really hurts the film. For instance, the skeletal creature can cloak (or perhaps it’s teleporting?) and the POV shots through the creature’s eyes are very familiar (complete with what appears to be thermal vision).

Skeleton Man will horrify but not in the way that it was intended to. This movie may turn up on someone’s guilty pleasure list due to the fact that it is so mistake laden and logic free. And of course, it features an unmitigated Michael Rooker (Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer, Shadow Builder) running rampant throughout the film as the rugged (and more than just a little nutty) Captain Leary. So, if you think you’re man enough to take on a bewildering plot and embarrassingly trite dialogue (as well as ludicrous action sequences and vapid special effects), then try Skeleton Man on for size.

Slaughterhouse Rock

slaughterhouserock

Slaughterhouse Rock (1988)

Alex (Nicholas Celozzi) has been having nightmares about a cannibalistic Confederate soldier known as “The Commandant” who hangs out in Alcatraz. These night terrors are so bad that the line between reality and dreams has become blurred. Recently, a rock band led by Sammy Mitchell (Toni Basil) was slaughtered in the famous prison while recording a music video. Alex, his brother Richard (Tom Reilly), and a bunch of their friends decide to go to Alcatraz before Alex’s dreams drive him crazy. They are joined by Alex’s new girlfriend Jan (Tamara Hyler) and paranormal expert Carolyn (Donna Denton). After Richard is possessed by the spirit of “The Commandant” and starts killing their friends, it’s up to Alex and the ghost of Sammy to stop him.

Why did this movie take me so long to find? Why was I looking for it? The answer to the second question is simple: Toni Basil “starring” in a horror movie. I am just slightly obsessed with the 80s dance princess and boy oh boy did I ever get burned on this one. This is easily one of the most irritating movies I’ve ever seen. When you spend two bucks on a VHS tape, you don’t always get gold. Surprised?

The direction and editing of Slaughterhouse Rock scream heavy metal video at first but this slick aesthetic is quickly abandoned for a very, very bland tone for most of the film. In fact, I kept waiting for a music and dance sequence to break out and save this flick from its own mediocrity. Toni Basil’s fictional rock band doesn’t even get a music video! Cripes man, if only the crew behind this bloated bag of ass-wind had at least tried to make something out of their stolen ideas from The Evil Dead, this picture might have at least been salvageable.

Unlikeable characters, pitiful dialogue, and an uninspired (or untalented) cast come together to put the finishing touches on the feces finger-painting the production team started. The worst offender is Nicholas Celozzi who has the unfortunate task of portraying Alex, our hero. Not only is this guy a whiny douche, every line he gets is sarcastic. Every single line! However, his bottomless sarcasm is no match for Tamara Hyler’s blandness. Hyler plays the comically boring and painfully plain Jan, who is seen reading a copy of “Love’s Tender Fury”.

Okay, there were some good folks in Slaughterhouse Rock. For instance, the gratuitous nudity comes from the surprisingly good Hope Marie Carlton (Slumber Party Massacre III) who plays Krista, Richard’s girlfriend (and demonic rape victim). Tom Reilly is acceptable as Richard, Alex’s doomed brother and makes for a creepy baddie once he’s possessed. Donna Denton (who should have done more horror movies) is the right kind of cheesy as Carolyn, the supernatural enthusiast and cloak-wearer.

Toni Basil, the shining light in the darkness, doesn’t show up until 45 minutes into the film but takes full advantage of her screen time. Her character, occult rocker Sammy Mitchell, gets nearly a dozen costume changes and lots of candy ass dialogue about demonic possession and metaphysical mumbo jumbo. Basil camps it up and makes her scenes worth waiting for.

Some nasty gore setpieces and a (barely existent) soundtrack by DEVO don’t save this flick from the nonexistent logic, disjointed scenes, and shitty editing. Show those fast-forwarded clouds again. THEY ARE SO SPOOKY! Or how about we run some clips of things that happened earlier in the movie? Nice! That was sarcasm, Alex. Get it? No, you probably don’t. Not even the great Toni Basil can save Slaughterhouse Rock from itself. I can gripe and gripe some more about how this film could have been better but I won’t. I did like the old ledger that contains the writings of “Indian medicine men”. I’ll be checking that out at my local library.

“Does an accordion player wear a pinky ring?”

Dark August

darkaugust

Dark August (1976)

After accidentally running over a young girl, artist Sal Devito (J.J. Barry) is haunted by three things: visions of the tragic incident, a strange figure lurking in the woods, and by Old Man McDermitt , the girl’s grandfather. As Sal’s mind is slowly coming unglued, his girlfriend Jackie (Carolyne Barry) tries her best to stand by her man. Jackie’s friend recommends that Sal seek spiritual guidance from Adrianna (Kim Hunter), a witch who specializes in white magic. Adrianna discovers that someone has placed a curse on Sal which summoned a demon to torment him.

Director Martin Goldman takes a pretty big chance with his take on what a horror film should be. Without an effects budget or a high body count (this definitely ain’t no slasher film), he instead focuses on psychology, the performances of his actors, and the supernatural. But you’ll have to use your imagination here as almost nothing otherworldly is ever shown in Dark August to indicate that what’s happening is anywhere but in the minds of the characters. The score by William S. Fisher is a jazzy synth mishmash with some wacko drums and piano (so of course, I dig it). The workmanlike cinematography by Richard E. Brooks has a few surprises stashed in the film in the form of some gorgeously composed shots.

Unfortunately, the entire film hinges on Sal, a friggin’ unlikeable bastard. J.J. Barry (who co-wrote the film with Goldman and Carolyne Barry) turns in a great performance but his character is a selfish and smug douchebag. The only thing I liked about Sal’s character is that it doesn’t take him long to buy into the supernatural world around him. If this movie had taken an extra ten minutes he moronically vacillated between faith and science, I would have given up. Other members of the cast do a fine job but the script has them caught in a mire of banal melodrama. Dr. Zira herself, Kim Hunter, is great and she gets to spout some pretty crazy incantations during a seance which goes horribly awry.

Despite its “Me Generation” whining, ponderous pacing, and actors’ workshop vibe, I have to admit that there is something special about Dark August. On the surface it feels like Savage Weekend but without the trashiness or the chainsaw. It does have a very well staged and surprising moment of violence that I did not see coming. Another cool scenes is when we first see the dark figure that is always watching Sal, it is chilling. Sal tries to catch this presence by following it deeper and deeper into the woods and his demon stays just out of reach and is always seen in a blurry haze.

Also in the film’s favor: I watched Dark August after I burned my beat up Lightning Video tape to DVD-R. In my experience, this always lends a claustrophobic, anything-can-happen vibe to old rare films like this one. I highly doubt that this fairly obscure film will get the special treatment if it ever does make it to DVD. It’s a shame because even though Goldman’s film has some major strikes against it, I was left with a creepy feeling when it was over and a few things to think about. I can’t recommend Dark August too much because I don’t think horror film fans should go out of their way to find it. However, if this flick turns up on some 50 movie pack someday, patient folks should give it a spin.

Bad Girls from Mars

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Bad Girls from Mars (1990)

Bad Girls from Mars is marketed as a sci-fi T&A spoof but in reality, it’s about the making of a sci-fi T&A spoof. A film crew making the titular (emphasis on the ‘tit’) film is beset with problems as each of their leading ladies dies under mysterious circumstances. TJ the director (played by Oliver Darrow) is at his wits’ end trying to get the production under control and it isn’t helped at all by the slimy producers and its awful leading man Richard Trent (John Richardson). Trent’s girlfriend and wardrobe girl, Myra (Brinke Stevens), offers to fill the role but the producers have someone else in mind already: Emanuelle Fortes (Edy Williams), ditzy blonde bombshell and queen of sex. Now the killer is after Emanuelle and is quite happy to leave a trail of corpses along the way to his prize.

Once I realized that this movie wasn’t a spoof but a spoof of a spoof, I kind of settled down a little bit. In fact, for the first 10 or 15 minutes, I was ready to bail on Bad Girls from Mars. Then Brinke Stevens shows up and I realized why I was there in the first place. Fred Olen Ray (Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers), the American maestro of cheese, directs this kooky flick which references Ed Wood (repeatedly) and spoofs The Happy Hooker. Filled with continuity errors (intentional, I think), goofy sound effects, knee-slapping one liners, and insanely gratuitous nudity, Bad Girls from Mars is pretty darn entertaining.

Edy Williams (Beyond the Valley of the Dolls) is pretty outrageous here as sex goddess Emanuelle. She looks a little worn out but her overdone breathiness just works. The best bit comes when Emanuelle goes to a convenience store to ask for help after she narrowly escapes the killer. She doesn’t notice that the place is in the middle of a stickup; hilarious hijinks ensue. Oliver Darrow (Teenage Exorcist) makes for a likeable guy who has that annoying problem of women throwing themselves at him. Aw, poor guy. And of course, we have Brinke Stevens of Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama and Haunting Fear as Myra, the plucky wardrobe girl. One of the film’s strangest asides happens when, while the crew is filming a scene for the sci-fi movie, the camera suddenly pans to the left and we see Brinke in some lingerie smiling like a cat and cracking a whip. Then the camera pans back to the scene at hand. It’s weird, it’s pointless, and it’s genius.

Bad Girls from Mars definitely surprised me. I was expecting one thing that would not have been as good as what this turned out to be. Wait, what was that? If you don’t like corny jokes and a parade of silicone then stay far away from this flick. I went from thinking I would turn this off after 5 minutes to catching myself laughing out loud at some real zingers. If nothing else stick around for the climax when the heroes are only seconds away from rescuing the damsel in distress but decide to stop for burgers and pizza. It’s good for a larf, let me tells ya.

SPOILERS (and some trivia)

According to IMDB, Bad Girls from Mars was shot in 5 days. Hmm, I could see that. The site also says that Fred Olen Ray had to cut 8 minutes of material before the film could be released including a kiss between Brinke Stevens and Edy Williams. Hmm, moderately interesting. Okay, onto the spoiler stuff. So it turns out that Brinke Stevens is the killer. I was going to accuse this movie of not having enough Brinke in my review but then she gets a great speech at the end about her motives for killing people and chasing after Emanuelle. Next thing you know, she has a grenade in her mouth and all’s well that ends well.

“There’s no room on Mars for limp dicks!”

Dark Romances

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Dark Romances I & II (1990)

This horror anthology has seven separate stories. In “The Black Veil”, Meg (Elizabeth Morehead) visits her college friend, Justine (Julie Carlson), to try and rescue her from the unsavory life she is leading in the Grand Guignol theatre. Little does Meg know, that Justine is in more trouble than even she realizes. In “Listen To Midnight” photographer Tod’s (Ron Roleck) questionable lifestyle finally catches up with him when he brings home the wrong woman.

“She’s Bad, She’s Blonde, She’s Lunch” is the story of a criminal couple who have a fateful meeting with a mad scientist (Fox Harris) and his creation. In “Cardinal Sin” a young man’s desires clash with his mother’s overbearing religious beliefs with deadly results. “Pet Shop Of Death” is the tale of Sam (Mark Addy), a man who will go to great lengths to get his dominating wife (Katina Garner) off his back in order to win the affections of his sexy neighbor. In “Last Love” a woman attempts to bring her dead lover back to life. The last story, “What Goes Around…” tells of a washed up artist (Jeff Maxwell) whose inspiration is renewed when he gets involved with a mysterious woman named Diana (Brinke Stevens). Unfortunately, she wants to destroy him in order to bring him success.

Surprise. Bewilderment. Awe. Ouch. These are just a few of the things I’m experiencing while walking away from a back to back Dark Romances marathon. Garage gore, sub-ironic product placement, arthouse aspirations, every paltry video effect known to man, ineluctable late 80s cheese, dialogue like broken glass, schlocky acting, Brinke Stevens (Sorority Babes In The Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama), and much, much more await you here in this very dense and oddly hypnotic shot-on-video horror anthology.

While I’m impressed by the ambitious storyline and setting of “The Black Veil”, sitting through it is another matter entirely. An intentional (I hope) soft focus haze persists throughout the running time of this (overlong) section but some excessive gore makes up for a lot of this. Up next is one of my favorite pieces from the anthology called “Talk To Midnight” which features Ron Roleck as Tod, the sleazy photographer with enough neo-noir moxie to peel the paint off a Maserati. Tod finally meets his match in Ginger (played by Anita Coleito), a voluptuous vamp sweet enough to give me cavities. Cavities of death!

On tape 2, the second best of the best comes tearing across the screen with a vengeance: “She’s Bad, She’s Blonde, She’s Lunch”. A neat little disclaimer warns the viewer of impending doom but even that didn’t prepare me for the sheer delight I was in store for. Ruth Waytz and Ron Kologie go on a murderous rampage in a comic book store and the next thing I know, Fox Harris (Repo Man, Dr. Caligari) is making me feel alive again. Then this green and naked monster shows up and the movie erupts with some fugly vaginal and phallic symbols. Simply joyous.

I’ve had enough already and yet tape 2 keeps running. “Cardinal Sin” is loaded with repressed sexual urges, blood, and pornstar Elle Rio steaming things up. The next installment, “Pet Shop Of Death” is an indie horror near-masterpiece with much demented fun to be had. “Last Love” is somewhat weak and really not welcome at this point in the game. Thankfully, the black and white finale, “What Goes Around…”, is just ridiculous enough to finish things off. Besides, it stars Brinke Stevens as the collector of artists’ parts (I mean, souls) and the trippy sci-fi nonsense angle adds some spice to this one quite nicely.

And we’re done. I’m jittery, bloated, but not irritable. Despite some weak moments, Dark Romances is one hell of a trashy fun time. The it’s-so-80s-it-hurts vibe only makes the 3 hour ride all the more endearing. The gore and nudity run rampant in some sections while other “artier(!?!)” stories in the anthology are somewhat tame. Even the clunkier sections (“The Black Veil” and “Last Love”) have their own style and don’t require any fast-forwarding. Brinke Stevens keeps popping up in all the stories so yeah, stay tuned! Both volumes of Dark Romances are clearly a labor of love for those involved and it’s a shame that this title remains somewhat obscure. I’m going to go and stare at some neon lights now and eat some frozen yogurt.