Before we get started, I just wanted to let you know two things. One: this will have some minor spoilers, but I tried to make it so that I wouldn’t ruin the whole plot or the identity of the killer if it’s part of the mystery. Two: this is going to be the ninth chapter of the upcoming book, Giallo Meltdown 2. What’s a Giallo Meltdown? You can find out by picking up the first book right here. Thanks for hanging out!
In the 1980s, the giallo went through a rough patch but it definitely didn’t die. My beloved genre became a gorier and more insane -or just trashier- version of itself. Italian and Spanish genre filmmakers segued into the slasher business by doing what they do best: make a giallo but gorier. And the Americans, having spent the 1970s being bombarded with rereleases and retitlings of gialli, did what they do best: make a giallo but gorier. Of course, not all slashers from Italy and Spain were just gialli in new packaging. Some of them are actually freakin’ awesome card-carrying members of the slasher club. The goal of this moviethon is to delve deep into that blood spattered gray area that’s somewhere between giallo and slasher. And I don’t care if get lost in it forever.
FRIDAY
It’s a breezy (though typically warm and Tampa-esque) November night which can mean only one thing: death is coming! I’m sitting here feeling very stuffed and sluggish. I will ultimately be easy prey for the killer. Oh well, that Mexican pizza I ordered from Senor Tequila was worth my impending slaughtering. But let’s not focus on such morbid things for it is time to watch other people die (and not just me slowly)! Personally, I’ve been simply dying (EDIT: please stop talking about dying!) to get this moviethon going for a long while now and hoo boy, the time is here. I’ve got an overly ambitious stack of movies, a good attitude, and a pleasing countenance. Ready, steady, go!
“What did shithead say?”
5:55PM
BODY COUNT (1986)
Ruggero Deodato is personally assisting me in the beginning of this bloodbath. That opening theme by Claudio Simonetti is kicking my ass, dood! I have a feeling that I’m going to regret having put this one off for so long. Boy am I glad that this opens with some basketball. I was beginning to worry if I wouldn’t get my daily recommended sports footage intake. John Steiner is in this, so I guess he’s the killer. Just sayin’. There is a character named Bob and another one named Ann? I feel like I’m in heaven. Speaking of heaven, David Hess and Mimsy Farmer play the owners of a campground that was built on an “Indian burial ground”. This film has an amazingly disorienting mix of live sound and post dubbing. And I just saw a bottle of J&B.
A group of teenagers in an RV are headed to that accursed campsite with their hitchhiker pal Ben. He grew up there, but he also witnessed a couple getting murdered in the woods. I’m sure that won’t come up later. Ivan Rassimov plays a grumpy sheriff’s deputy, and my heart is melting. I love him so much. America’s treasure, David Hess, is extra insane as Ben’s dad. He’s obsessed with catching an old shaman who stalks the woods. The killer I saw for a split second earlier looked more like a deflated Nick Nolte to me than a shaman. These teenagers are extra horny. One girl just fellated a sausage, but only just the tip. We’re all just sucking on the tip tonight. Charles Napier and Mimsy Farmer are super-secret lovers, but I don’t think my feeble mind can process such a thing.
One of the girls is doing the worst aerobics I’ve ever seen. She looks like she’s auditioning for The Mighty Mighty Bosstones. Close your eyes and imagine what that looks like. All of these characters are terrible and lovable at the same time. Thanks to a prank played on the fat comic relief character, we’re able to start the wiener count. If it turns out that it’s the only peepee we see during this entire moviethon then so be it. This is a damn good slasher and has set the mood for this weekend perfectly. I really hope that Body Count gets a proper release someday because this is one pretty film. This full frame shit is for the birds. The shitty ass birds!
“You have quite a repertoire of chilling tales.”
7:21PM
BLOODY MOON (1981)
Give me that holiday feelin’. Horrific snake murder aside, this is one of Jess Franco’s best films. Don’t listen to those folks who say otherwise. Bloody Moon is a G dang masterpiece. Just like Miguel, I feel like a disco king in my Mickey Mouse mask. After he murders a young lady, Miguel is shipped off to an insane asylum. Luckily, his doctor is Jess Franco, so he doesn’t have to stay there very long. His sister Manuela takes him back to the language school/mansion that their curmudgeonly old aunt owns. It’s full of sexy young ladies that are just begging to get murdered. Someone just set the old lady on fire. I miss her already.
Studly Antonio has his pick of the ladies, especially when he’s in his tennis gear. Speaking of ladies, the girls in this are some of the daffiest slasher movie vixens ever. And the dubbing of every character is broken and extra weird. Heck, this whole thing is just unhinged. The producers wanted Pink Floyd to do the film’s soundtrack. Pink Floyd was… unavailable. Manuela and Miguel have a very special relationship. Incestuous thoughts are okay if your sister looks like Manuela. Those are the rules. Cut to the night club where the DJ is spinning a nightmarish song that commands me to shake my baby. Antonio makes a crack about chocolate syrup and Inga, this movie’s VIP, freaks and storms out of the club. If you’re confused, then just imagine how I feel!
Inga may be my favorite character, but my second favorite is the giant Styrofoam rock that falls down the side of the mountain. Such charisma! The scene where the snake gets killed just gets harder to watch every time. Ugh. Damn it, Franco. Why must you hurt me so? Jeez Louise, even the outfits in Bloody Moon are loud and stupid. There’s an adorable cat scare AND a dummy fakeout. More of that stuff, please. It’s all so wonderful and daft that I’m ridin’ high. Don’t get me wrong though, the allergy medicine I took is making my eyes feel like they have lead weights tied to them. This is requiring all of my concentration. The killer’s motivation is so giallo that it hurts. The only way this could be any better is if this was a modelling school and not a language school.
“Here comes the bullshit!”
8:49PM
NIGHT SCHOOL (1981)
It has been a very, very long time since I’ve seen this one. All that I remember is that the killer looks like the one from What Have They Done to Your Daughters? (1974) and it contains a certain food-based lovemaking/shower scene. There are probably other things that happen in this film. Manly Leonard Mann plays Judd, a police detective investigating the brutal murders of lovely coeds at a Massachusetts college. He questions Vincent, a professor of archeology at the school, to find out more about one of his female students that got beheaded. The professor isn’t suspicious at all. Nope. He’s just creepily showing too much affection to one his students in front of the detective.
Exchange student Eleanor (Rachel Ward) hates how all the girls fawn all over Vincent because she’s his very special teaching assistant. She really knows how to grade his papers! She really knows how to load his slide projector! She really knows how to notate his lectures! Maybe I should just go to bed. A gratuitous shower scene happens and LeEtta is very offended by it. It’s not the nudity on display, it’s the fact that Rachel Ward didn’t take off her earrings beforehand! Vincent joins her in the shower and starts rubbing raspberry jam all over her while the synthesizer plays a creepy dirge. Why does every slasher movie have raspberry jam lovemaking shower scenes?! I’ve never understood that trope.
Watching this film is like jumping on a grenade but instead of shrapnel, your body is pierced by deadly shards of melodrama. The best character is Carol, the kindly but sassy waitress at the Lamplight Restaurant who gives out worldly advice while refilling your coffee. I sure hope that nothing happens to her. The killer likes to decapitate his victims and put the heads in water. They call him “The Wet Bandit”! We’ve seen two neon signs for Schlitz in two movies tonight. Classy. There’s so much soft focus and diffused lighting in this movie that it’s making me feel like I’m floating. Floating like a head in a toilet. Damn it, I need to watch this one more often.
SATURDAY
After a night of confusing and boring dreams, I wake up feeling expertly rested. We had a nice jam experiment for breakfast. LeEtta made calamondin jam and pineapple jam. On our English muffins, I put butter and then calamondin on the bottom slice and then butter and pineapple on the top slice. The calamondin was a total failure. But the pineapple was a huge success. So, it all worked out. Was I ready for more movies? Hell no, brother! I came here to do chores! My plan to do my cleaning duties on Thursday night was a complete failure. Woopsie doodle. So, after cleaning the toilets and vacuuming the house, I ran out to get our lottery tickets. After that, I didn’t want to see the sun anymore!
“The most beautiful thing in the world is smoking pot
and fucking on a waterbed at the same time!”
10:03AM
PIECES (1982)
I am one bold son of a biscuit by starting the day with a stone cold favorite, but this is what it takes to be a hero. I love Pieces so much that my band has a song about it! The VHS tape for this one leered at me on the shelves of the video store when I was a kid. But the cover freaked me out too much, so I never rented it. In the early 2000s, I picked up the Diamond DVD for seven dollars and I’ve loved it ever since. It’s always a big hit at parties. The black-gloved killer likes to fondle his trophies. To be completely honest, it took me multiple viewings before I understood that the girl on the skateboard crashing into the giant mirror on the street is what triggered the killer’s bloodlust. And hell, it might have even been somebody else’s review that explained it to me. I’m not THAT bright or whatever.
At a very un-prestigious college campus in Boston, our murderer is chopping up the female students and stealing one PIECE of their bodies at a time. Everyone’s favorite pasty Englishman Edmund Purdom plays the dean of the university and Jess Franco regular Jack Taylor plays a very suspicious professor encased in a turtleneck. Somebody is gonna have to crack this case and who better than green cigar-chomping detective Christopher George and undercover policewoman/tennis pro Lynda Day George? Oh, hello there, swimming pool at night! You’re one of my favorite characters. The girl by the pool looks alarmed by the dark figure approaching her with a chainsaw, but not alarmed enough to jump back in the pool to evade the maniac. Maybe she thought it was her time.
Nearly every line of dialogue and just about every character in Pieces is a heckin’ riot. I don’t want to get into everything because this entry would be a whole chapter’s worth of writing. The creepy horror synths, progressive rock breakdowns, and the kooky pieces of library music by CAM, a collection of musicians including Fabio Frizzi, Stelvio Cipriani, and Carlo Maria Cordo, are excellent. The way the gore is filmed in this is so grotesque and yet elegant. Let’s call it “grotelegant”. This film makes my heart do cartwheels or maybe that’s just some blockage I’m trying to clear. Director Juan Piquer Simón was a mad genius. One of these days, I need to check out his film called Pod People (1983). I’ve heard that it stinks. I throw a frozen pizza in the oven to feed LeEtta and I because we be hungry.
“I’m full of surprises today.”
12:30PM
MADHOUSE (1981)
This might as well be a first time watch for me. I remember enjoying it and brief flashes of the story, but that’s about it. Back in the 90s, I had a bad case of Assonitis. Holy crud, Madhouse doesn’t waste any time getting to the gore. Whoa! I look forward to comparing this one to Happy Birthday to Me (1981), which was released months after this one and has similar story elements. A music score by Riz Ortolani? Bam! TV actress Patricia Mickey plays Julia Sullivan, a teacher at a school for the deaf. Julia gets a letter from her uncle urging her to visit her twin sister Mary in the hospital. Mary has contracted a virus that has disfigured her face but she’s still the same old sis, a cruel and violent psychopath! In a few days, it will be the twins’ birthday and Mary says that has a very special ritual planned for Julia.
Back at Julia’s place, the building’s super Mr. Kimura, played by Jerry Fujikawa, is tinkering with the fuse box. Fujikawa’s Asian stereotype game is tight. A rottweiler just appeared out of nowhere and killed a security guard at the hospital that Mary just escaped from. Apparently, Mary had a huge, mean dog back when the girls were kids that would obey her every command. If it’s the same dog, then it should probably be in a frickin’ museum because it’s gotta be in its mid to late 20s. One thing I love about this movie is that Julia’s and Mary’s backstory feels like it was based on a 70s pulp horror novel. Riz Ortolani brought all of his farty bass plucks and gurgley stomach synth burps to this party. The owner of the building where Julia lives is a new age nightmare woman with a Southern accent that’ll peel the skin right off your ears. She’s great.
Julia’s cute friend Helen comes over to stay the night and keep her company. This actress is named Morgan Most, and she looks so darn familiar. I know her best from a film called Madhouse (1981). Julia’s cat gets gotten and there’s a brief shot of it hanging by its neck. The cat isn’t dead, but it looks rather pissed off at the filmmakers. Boo. Come on, people. Just get a fake cat. You got a fake dog! The scene is crazy creepy though as a mystery woman is stepping slowly towards Helen in the dark of the basement. Mild animal cruelty aside, this one is a lot of fun. The villain takes such perverse pleasure from evildoing that I discover I’m smiling from ear to ear. When this film gets wild, it gets very wild. I kinda love it. Suddenly I’ve got a craving to watch another Ovidio Assonitis favorite, Beyond the Door (1974), but not today!
“I make real good midnight snacks. You hungry?”
1:57PM
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME (1981)
Speaking of films that I don’t watch often enough, here’s one of them. This Mill Creek Blu-ray looks so damn nice, BTW. A black-gloved killer is stalking a college campus and I’m struck by how original that plotline sounds. The first girl gets it right in the throat zone with a straight razor. She was a member of The Riches or The Elites or The Top Dogs. Whatever their name is, they’re a group of snooty college jerkwads. Luckily for us, the viewing public, these pricks are going to die horribly. The only nice one is Virginia Wainwright (Melissa Sue Anderson) and she’s got some darkness in her past. I can’t judge her too harshly because I once saw C+C Music Factory in concert. The headmistress of the school has it in for the gang and I don’t blame her at all. She has a giant bulldog and he’s such a cutie.
A demonstration with electricity applied to frog legs in class brings back Virginia’s memories of her time she spent in the hospital after a traumatic head injury she suffered as a kid. Her psychologist is played by Glenn Ford. He’s hot. Forget all the psychobabble about Virginia’s fragile mental state, let’s get to the motocross scene. If your movie doesn’t have dirt bikes, did you even make a movie? Speaking of motorized vehicles, don’t get so close to a revving engine when you’ve wearing your Hogwarts scarf. Happy Birthday to Me has both weightlifting and soccer. Is it MY birthday? I can’t believe that this film’s director also directed the sleazetastic 10 to Midnight (1983), a movie I watched with my family when I was way, waaaay too young.
Why am I watching this trash? It features the main cast smoking doobies. I’m scared. Is this even legal to watch in the privacy of my own home? Even though this film is just a little over 110 minutes long, I never find it boring. Virginia’s birthday is quickly approaching, and her dad is too busy organizing the cleanup efforts of some dumb bullshit involving an oil rig on fire. What a selfish bastard! Holy carp, I forgot about the scene at the dance. It contains some delicious disco dancing. The movie delivers what its poster promises with the shish kabob of death which gives LeEtta and I a lot to discuss. What a tasty way to go. While this does have a somewhat similar ending to Madhouse (1981), I think this one is better at delivering the gruesome thrills, and it’s just so darn well made.
“You want me to stick my head in a fucking trash bag?”
4:27PM
DOUBLE EXPOSURE (1982)
I have been saving this DVD from Scorpion Releasing for a very long time. I suppose that this might be a good time to watch it. After an undercover cop disguised as a hooker gets killed by a maniac, the filmmakers get all trippy and keep with the double exposure theme by laying on some nausea-inducing special effects over the opening credits. Once that’s over, we meet Adrian (Michael Callan), a photographer who’s been having strange dreams and vague impotency. His therapist is Seymour Cassel so things can’t be all that bad. Adrian acts like a complete psycho while hitting on a lady named Mindy (Joanna Pettet) who’s just trying to get to her car in the parking garage. She foolishly agrees to see him later. LeEtta made us kielbasa, sauerkraut, and spaetzle for dinner because of all these German movies we’re watching.
Meanwhile the colleagues of the dead uncover cop are getting grief from the police chief, who’s played by Cleavon Little of Once Bitten (1985)! His character’s name is “Police Chief”. That’s creative! Adrian has a dream about murdering a model he’s supposed to be photographing. That’s bad but his homophobic brother B.J. (James Stacy) is worse. He treats Adrian’s gay co-worker like dogshit. What a cool guy. Victoria Jackson has a tiny part in this. More importantly, Frances Bay of Blue Velvet (1986) plays an old woman named “Old Woman”. How did the screenwriter think of that!? Adrian has ghosted Mindy for some reason and has now hooked up with some other chick. He’s a real piece of work.
Holy forking shirt, Grady Fletcher’s fiancée just got killed. I wonder if Aunt Jessica will turn up to solve the mystery! The only mystery is why I wanted to watch this movie. Michael Callan just started monologuing the movie right into the fucking ground. Did he take an acting class? He’s chewing the scenery like it was the last stick of beef jerky hidden in his couch cushions. I don’t like the term “overindulgent” because people use it to describe me all the time. Hold up, Mindy has taken Adrian back after all of his bullshit? Why would she do that? Why is she rubbing her crotch with his foot? LeEtta theorizes that the reels of the film are out of order.
Adrian and B.J. take their dates to a bar that has female mud wrestling. B.J.’s date named Bambi gets him to bet $230 that he can wrassle and win against the reigning champ in the ring. Spoiler alert: he loses. Damn it, Double Exposure is pretty dreadful and has almost lost us completely. But we’re hangin’ on, damn it. And for what it’s worth, the ending is pretty decent and there’s some surprisingly good atmosphere on display. But I have to wonder what the heck happened to this movie. There’s a lot of extras on the disc that might explain things. So now we’re watching those. Just kidding. We’re moving right along.
“Stop kvetching, honey. You could always go back to
microwaving chili at Mexico Joe’s.”
6:08PM
STAGEFRIGHT (1987)
Now, this feels like coming home. I’ve seen this wondrous film so many times that I’ve practically got it memorized. A group of dancers is getting ready for a big show by pulling an all-night rehearsal. Hey, this is just like Noises Off (1992). The show that they’re rehearsing is some crunked up garbage with hookers, murder, and a killer in a huge owl mask. Barbara Cupisti plays Alicia, one of the dancers who sneaks off with her pal so that she can have a doctor look at her injured ankle. They go to a mental institution because they think that psychiatrists treat sprained ankles. After the doctor feels her up, they head back to the theater not realizing that a homicidal killer has escaped from the hospital and secreted (Ew, bro!) himself away in the backseat.
Good old Michele Soavi directed this masterpiece of murder, and he did it just for me. What a good guy! No wait, he did it for Joe D’Amato who produced it. But George Eastman, who wrote this, said that he dedicated the screenplay to me. Giovanni Lombardo Radice plays Brett, one of the dancers. The screenwriter gives Brett all of the best lines. He’s so damn funny. Brett has an antagonistic friendship with his pal Laurel, played by Mary Sellers of Ghosthouse (1988). They attempt to see which of them can be cattier than the other. It’s a stalemate. The killer steals Brett’s owl mask and kills one of the dancers right in front of everyone. Now the key to the only door out is lost and these silly goofs are trapped in the theater.
I’m not the kind of guy who has to upgrade every single DVD in my collection but this old Anchor Bay disc ain’t lookin’ so hot. Normally I wouldn’t care but dang it all, my eyes are so tired right now. The scene where Laurel and Alicia hide from the killer in the showers is so good. Then there’s the whole tableau with all of the victim’s bodies arranged onstage while classical music is blaring, and feathers are blowing around by the fan. I think this is anime because feathers = anime. There’s a black cat in this named Lucifcer but I think he’s played by two cats because one of them is a tabby that’s been dyed black. That’s Hollywood for ya.
QUICK BREAK
LeEtta and I went outside to look at the stars and the mostly full moon. It was very cool outside and windy. I was feeling both elated by the barrage of movies I’ve been shoving into my brain and in pain from another cold front moving in. Those sinus infections I had back in the day really destroyed my shit forever. But the tops of the trees swaying to and fro were so gorgeous that I laid down on our driveway and stared at them while LeEtta looked for constellations. The light pollution and some pesky clouds weren’t helping her. After a little while, we went back inside.
“Enjoy the show, creep.”
8:15PM
AMERICAN NIGHTMARE (1983)
Here’s another one that I’ve never seen before. The cover art for this one and Double Exposure (1982) are so damn gialloriffic that I couldn’t resist. We have nudity and pot smoking in the first few seconds. That’s unacceptable. We are turning this off! The straight razor starts flying and we are off to the last film of the day. Welcome to the world of strippers and prostitutes and Canadians. This dude named Eric is looking for his missing sister (who we just saw killed). She was involved in some skeevy shit, and he wants to find her. This movie is as grubby as the VHS that it was ripped from. Another gay stereotype! These things happen.
Michael Ironside just showed up as a cop and I’ve made a bet with LeEtta that he’s the killer. And minutes later, I am proved wrong. Oh well, good thing I didn’t mention how many thousands of dollars I had intended to wager. Eric turns to Louise (Lora Staley), his sister’s friend to help him and they both take turns giving each other guilt trips. Good gawd, it looks freakin’ COLD up there in that Canada place. I’m starting to fall in love with all of these characters. A decent script and some solid performances are things that movies have sometimes. What’s that all about? Sure, it’s a little bad TV cop drama but I’m very much enjoying this.
I keep seeing Christmas decorations and that excites me very much. If American Nightmare could be a part of our Christmas viewing every year that would make me happy. While running around town trying to get more info, Eric and Louise are accosted by a mugger. Eric makes quick work of this punk by nearly ripping his ear off. Later that night, after arguing about how stripping is bad and how he’s a hypocrite, Eric and Louise meet halfway by having a really long sex scene. Well, this just took a nasty turn. I truly didn’t see that coming. I need a shower now. I mean, I always NEED a shower but this time, it’s because a movie made me feel dirty. Canada, you naughty.
SUNDAY
We went to bed as soon as American Nightmare (1982) AKA Canadian Nightmare (or Hoser Nightmare as David Assassino calls it) was over. I stayed awake for a little while to read a bit more of The Tea Party by Charles L. Grant. I have read many, many books by Grant and I highly recommend him if you can track down his stuff. Anyway, I went to sleep and had many dreams of social awkwardness and paranoia. My giallo killer is being afraid of hanging out with people. LeEtta gave us both a break from yard work for the day, and there was much rejoicing. For breakfast, I drove out and picked up sausage, egg, and cheese sandwiches from Panera Bread (not my sponsor). It was a lovely morning but already warmer than it had been the night before but there was rain and cooler weather in the forecast. I decided to stay indoors where it was much safer for my delicate constitution.
“Once the cerebral cells are destroyed, they cannot regenerate.”
9:19AM
ABSURD (1981)
Here’s a cozy little number. I first saw this marvelous Joe D’Amato joint way back in the day as a little kid and it got lodged in my brain. When I got back into horror movies around 2002, I asked about it on a horror message board, giving as many details as I could about the plot. Someone identified it as Absurd (AKA Rosso Sangue AKA Monster Hunter AKA George Eastman vs. Mechagodzilla) immediately and I was shocked that it was so hard to find. I bought the VHS and fell in love with it all over again. Now I have this swanky ass Severin Blu-ray and the soundtrack on red and black swirl vinyl (a gift from my friend Sam). So yeah, I kinda like this one.
This movie is about true love between two men. One is played by George Eastman and the other is Edmund Purdom. Eastman is an undying rage-filled beast and Purdom is a priest out to stop him at any cost. Michele Soavi is back as a young man on a motorcycle. Because his portrayal won him so many awards, he would reprise this game changing role in Tenebre (1982). One thing about this movie is the annoying kid in it. Everyone bitches about Bob in The House by the Cemetery (1981) but he doesn’t hold a candle to little Willy played by Kasimir Berger, son of the great William Berger. His sister Katia is played by his real-life sister Katya Berger. Katia is in traction from some anomaly in her spine and likes to draw circles! Bless her heart.
Mmm, Nurse Emily. She’s played by the lovely Annie Belle, who was more known for her roles in erotic films. I would injure myself forever if she was the one operating on me. Most of this film takes place at night and it’s all just lovely. I wish I could stroll around some cozy looking streets in Italy with George Eastman all night. There’d be no trouble since he’s 9 feet tall. Fun fact about me: it took many, many viewings of Absurd before I realized that it was D’Amato trying to cash in on the success of Halloween (1978). This is also a vague sequel to Antropophagus (1980), but Eastman didn’t want to have the gnarly makeup on this time around.
When my buddy Brad and I were talking about this film on the podcast, we talked about its ridiculous obsession with American football. And of course, the Italians got it completely wrong but football fucking sucks, so who cares?! You have adults dressing up in their finest duds to go to a football watching party which starts at 10pm and where they eat big bowls of spaghetti. All of the play-by-play commentary from the TV is complete gibberish. And bonus, the fanfare they play at the game is the same as the music from Pieces (1982). It’s not too surprising since a lot of that score was borrowed from this one. Meanwhile, there’s a whole subplot involving Willy’s dad being racked with guilt after hitting Eastman with his car and fleeing the scene. I’d be racked with guilt too if my seed had brought the curse upon the world known as Willy.
LUNCH
I went out to get some food from Simply Pho. I picked up egg rolls, chicken with fried rice for LeEtta, and pork with stir-fried noodles for me. So, I guess I didn’t get simply pho but whatever. There were lots of Vietnamese families enjoying lunch there and I did a little sneaky people watching while I was waiting. Probably creepy or maybe I was just hungry. Whatever everyone was ordering looked amazing. So maybe more pathetic than creepy? Who knows? On the way back, I listened to Edsel. There are few things from the 1990s that I enjoy more than that band. Look up their album called Techniques of Speed Hypnosis. It’s great. I’m so full of recommendations this moviethon.
“You haven’t kissed me goodnight for a long time.”
12:37PM
SCHIZOID (1980)
I have been staring at this one on my shelves for what seems like forever. Good old Canon Films. This opens with a lady hunched over her typewriter while writing on her couch. She’s just like me! You fill a hot tub with lovely ladies sipping glasses of wine and you’re creating a situation where anything can happen. Now that one of the girl gang are alone, she’s being pursued by a man with black gloves wielding a huge pair of scissors. He chases her to the California version of the Sawyer Ranch. Hot damn, Marianna Hill of Messiah of Evil (1973) is in this. She plays Julie. She writes the advice column for a newspaper that her ex-husband Doug (Craig Wasson) runs. My God, they would’ve had beautiful children together. Julie is getting anonymous letters from a psycho. He talks about wanting to kill people and he wants her advice for some reason.
Julie and her pals are in a group therapy session led by Dr. Peter Fales. I suspect that their session will not be successful because Fales is played by Klaus Kinski. He may know more about madness than anyone, but I think he mostly just causes it. Dr. Fales likes to sneak a peek at his daughter Alison (Donna Wilkes) whiles she’s undressing. That’s not good. Christopher Lloyd plays one of the members of the group and he sounds like the loneliest man on the planet. He’s so good but I’m glad the movie isn’t about him. That’d be a bit of a bummer. After the session is over, Julie shows Dr. Fales the psycho letter and he gives her a big surprise kiss. His secretary walks in and catches them. He acts all cool and leaves but Julie looks like he hit her with a two-by-four. Another gay stereotype! Damn, these North Americans are giving Italy a run for their money.
Speaking of character actors, John Regalbuto of “Murphy Brown” and Richard Herd of “T.J. Hooker”, are both in this! Ooh, a strip club. We definitely didn’t get enough of that action yet this moviethon. Kinski just had sex with a stripper against a hot water heater. LeEtta is making candles in the kitchen, so she only heard the sound effects of them making the sex act. She said, “Those didn’t sound like sexy sounds!” Holy shit, this was directed by the dude who did Savage Weekend (1979)?! That’s amazing. Julie and Dr. Fales are actually starting up a romance. Duder, I gotta tell ya, that is some weird, inhuman shit. His daughter Alison certainly thinks it’s weird. She’s spying on them from her bedroom window while holding a huge revolver. My brain just reminded me who Donna Wilkes is. She’s Angel from Angel (1983)!
While Julie is getting Kinski’d by Dr. Fales, Doug is snooping around the fire escape, trying to get a look at them in The Bone Zone. A neighbor who looks a lot like Martin Scorsese chases him down the street with a baseball bat screaming, “I’ll fix your ass!” The members of the group therapy session are gettin’ gotten and Kinski saying, “Where is everybody?” to the surviving members cracks me up. Donna Wilks almost looks like she’s trying to cosplay as Maria Schneider in Last Tango in Paris (1972) in one scene. Now that was a fun first-time watch. I want to own this soundtrack. It’s by some dude named Craig Huxley and damn it, it’s so damn cool.
“I’m depressed and I have a headache.”
2:17PM
EDGE OF THE AXE (1988)
I love how José Ramón Larraz got into the slasher game in the late 80s with this little gem. The killer looks super cool with his creepy expressionless mask. But the real magic of this movie comes from all of the computer rigmarole and wacko character interactions. Gerald is a computer geek with a hipster haircut. He and his friend Richard (no relation) run around town earning extra money exterminating vermin. Today, the owner of the local bar wants them to investigate a foul stench coming from somewhere at his establishment. Surprise, it’s a corpse! Ugh, I hate Richard. No, I’m not talking about myself though I do hate myself. This Richard is such a sleazebag. He brags about only having married his wife, played by Patty Shepard for her money and he’s obsessed with tits. Not his wife’s tits but all the other tits in town. No one ever married Patty Shepard for any other reason than Patty Shepard!
This movie has a love story even sweeter than the one between Eastman and Purdom. Gerald meets Lillian another computer geek just like him. Their online chats are the stuff of legend. Perhaps you’ve heard of The Hunger Games and 50 Shades of Grey. Those hit properties are both based on Gerald and Lillian. Thanks to Arrow Video I was able to retire my VHS rip of this film. This Blu-ray is kinda blowing my mind right now. It just looks so damn nice. And I get to hear the soul deflating country songs and the garbled dialogue of some of the locally sourced actors in HD. Jack Taylor returns to the moviethon! He’s also in HD, glaring suspiciously.
My pal Sam has arrived to partake of this craziness. He is witnessing the blossoming yet complicated love of Lillian and Gerald. LeEtta says that old Ger looks like Jim Carrey and Sam says he looks like Evan Peters of “American Horror Story”. Meanwhile, Patty Shepard and Jack Taylor are having the best interaction ever filmed at the bar. He’s practically making love to her whiskey glass. The computer voice coldly narrating the online chats of the young lovers just blew Sam’s mind. Gerald looks as tired and distraught as the manager at Panera did this morning. Although I suspect that she was just really hungover. Gerald has no excuse.
GYROJETS AND DINNER
Sam and I retreated to the music room where we worked on some new parts of new GYROJETS songs. It was as loud and ridiculous as always. Then we talked about Laser Tag and synthesizers and horror manga. Sam ate one of the pumpkin spice bourbon muffins that LeEtta made, and he found them to be amazing. I could do nothing but agree. They were that good. And then Sam had to take his leave of us. I heated up the leftover beans and rice from Senor Tequila and we made burritos. It was finally time for the last movie of the moviethon.
“Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
6:25PM
NIGHTMARES IN A DAMAGED BRAIN (1981)
And now I must tussle with Romano Scavolini and his Video Nasty classic. He directed A White Dress for Marialé (1972)?! That kinda blows my mind. I’m loving the hand-painted 21st Century Distribution Corp. logo at the beginning of this. Somebody’s cousin was a skilled draftsman. Or draftsperson. A young man in tighty whities wakes up with a woman’s severed head in his bed. But then he really wakes up in a straitjacket in an asylum. After some diseased jazz plays over the credits, a title card proclaiming “The First Night – Florida” boldly flashes on the screen. I love me some Florida movies, y’all. You know this! Some maniac is running around and scares the Bujebus out of a poor babysitter. One of the kids she’s babysitting looks very amused by all this as the cops are running around outside looking for the aforementioned maniac.
So Mr. Tighty Whities is named George Tatum and he lives in New York City. He is the first quote unquote success with a combination of new anti-psychotic medications. Sadly, his list of mental problems is as long as my arm, so let’s just say things are likely not gonna go well for him on the outside. George goes out in the world to a peep show and he’s haunted by visions of the dead woman tying a man to a bed and slapping the shit out of him. Holy crud, this has some serious dildo on lady bits action happening here. Paging, Dr. Franco! He drives down to Florida and goes to a bar. A country singer armed with an acoustic guitar croons, “I’m feelin’ tired and beat” to which I say, “Fuck you!” George follows a woman home from the bar and brutally kills her to death. But then he apologizes. So, it all works out.
Someone thought it would be a good idea to have some recorder on this soundtrack. And here I thought the harmonica was the worst instrument ever invented. There’s a lady named Susan who likes to leave her kids locked out of the house while she’s on a boat getting groped by a guy who looks like a roadie for The Eagles. When she realizes that she needs to get home to feed her children, he says, “Let them eat Mallomars.” I’m not gonna lie, her kids, especially C.J. the little terror, are pretty awful. Never blame the parents! JK LOL. Susan really sucks. Her boyfriend suggests that they go to McDonald’s, but they dub over him so he’s saying “McDuff’s”. I thought C.J. was making pipe bombs in his bedroom but LeEtta explained that he’s wiring up one of his masks for a prank. Someone show this to my mom so that she will thank the Lord for what a well-behaved child I was.
George feels bad for killing people. He takes his victim to the beach and just screams at the night sky. Nice to see that sometimes a killer has remorse. Sometimes. The babysitter freaks out on Susan after C.J. pulls another prank and I have to laugh. She looks like a true Floridian. I’d say perfect casting, but they probably just grabbed her off the street out of desperation. We get some great impossible computer crapola as a cigar chomping detective is hunting for George by typing questions into a computer and getting instant answers. LeEtta has had it with Susan, but I think she’s mother of the year. This movie gets so weird as the police question C.J. about his dead friend at the scene of the crime in front of a camera crew and reporters. Wut? This is the best prequel to Rob Zombie’s Halloween (2007) ever made. I seriously don’t know I feel about this fuckin’ movie. It is exquisite suffering.
CIGAR AND FINAL THOUGHTS
I sat out in the carport in the dark smoking an Eiroa cigar and drinking a lime Jarrito. The temperature was already starting to drop. Winter was coming or at least the Florida version of it. I was giddy. After 13 films, 102 murders, and 4 wieners (almost five if you count George’s peepee bouncing round in his tighty whities), I was in splatter heaven. In fact, I had just experienced one of the best moviethons I’d had in years. Slashers and gialli are always battling it out for the open spot in the happy hole in my head but also heart. Intentionally getting lost in that happy space between my two favorite subgenres was fascinating and stupid. It was a snotty and unimaginably selfish gesture to enrage giallo diehards and make myself happy.
On one end of the spectrum, you have Stagefright (1987) and Body Count (1986) which were very successful slashers; and then on the other, you have Pieces (1982) and American Nightmare (1983) which were totally latecomers to the giallo game. Then you’ve got Nightmares in a Damaged Brain (1981) and Double Exposure (1982) which I don’t have a clue what the actual fudge category they fit into. As for new favorites, I will definitely be revisiting Schizoid (1980) and Body Count again. Hell, I’m still trying to talk LeEtta into letting me slip American Nightmare into our regular Christmas sleaze watchin’. Only time will tell.
