Tag Archives: horror

click-the calendar girl murders pic 2

Click: The Calendar Girl Killer (1990)

Click: The Calendar Girl Killer (1990)

Directed by John Stewart & Ross Hagen

Starring Ross Hagen, Tony Donahue, Dona Spier

Remarkably stupid film, a complete waste of time, the most entertaining movie I’ve seen in weeks – All of the above could be used to describe this unbelievable movie.

It opens with models parading in bikinis sporting assorted weaponry – crossbows, swords, rifles etc… One of these models is Dona Spier (previous mention of this virtually unknown model has brought so many Google searchers to this site it may as well be her own), who unfortunately has a very small role in the first ten minutes but the beginning is set up as if she is to be the main heroine. Go figure.

This is an extremely eighties soft core bikini shoot – Blue studio, California bodies, gold bikinis, wind blown permed hair and sleazy saxophone music – you know the drill. After the bimbo montage and credit sequence we see a young boy sitting in the corner crying as an overweight middle-aged nurse screams and humiliates him. Cut to a grown man applying lip stick, shaving his body hair and attacking a mirrored medicine-cabinet with a carving knife. Oooh… the sleaze oozes from the television screen and laps at your groin like a salivating three-legged mongrel.

Suddenly we are witnessing a wild party with an all-girl glam-rock band poorly lip-synching to an atrociously awful power ballad. Beautiful people (and a few ugly ones) are really digging the rock’n’roll, dancing and drinking until an unfortunate event where Ms Spier is accidentally knocked into the jacuzzi. This accidental drenching leads to the organiser of the party asking the band to stop and for all of the guests to go home. Me thinks that was a little drastic.

As Spier dries herself off, we are introduced to photographer Jack who convinces her rather quickly to disrobe and pose for his calendar . Oddly enough before she was pushed into the spa Spier was questioning the artistic validity of the nudity in Jack’s work. This is a reoccurring scenario in this film, characters attitudes towards each other reverse with very little reason. In one scene two boof-heads fist fight, after knocking the other guy out he extends his friendship and the two discuss girl problems like old school chums. Am I missing something here? Anyway, the photo shoot sequence layers on the soft-focus, slow-motion, wind-blowing cheese so thick, by the time Spier exposes her buttocks you’ll be praying for less nudity and more of that murder we were promised.

Spier’s dramatic revealing of bum-cakes is the last we see of her character. I kept wondering if she would reappear throughout the film, but I guess that whole long-winded sequence was set up to drill into our thick craniums that Jack is a photographer of naked women.

Jack has a great idea for his next calendar: sex and violence. He believes this concept is so original that he likens himself to Picasso and Rembrandt. He plans a secluded photo shoot with a small group of female and male models. The shoot is to take place on a compound-like ranch in the middle of Bumfuck U.S.A. The star of the calendar is to be Cindy, a young hopeful trying to get her break in the world of modelling. Cindy’s boyfriend Johnny does his best to discourage her from her chosen career path and in the process makes himself out to be quite the dick head. He is quite an unlikable character and there seems to be very little chemistry between the two. They share one of the worst sex scenes I have ever seen on film: whilst they grope and moan in the kitchen most of the passion (?) is obscured by a boiling kettle on the stove. As their love-making comes to a climax they collapse to the floor as steam spouts from the whistling appliance. Yikes!

As Jack photographs his models in his ground-breaking, sexy scenarios (machine-guns, pirates, samurais, caveman rape scenes etc.) something very icky is happening behind the scenes. A hairy transvestite who dresses as a nurse and has serious mother-issues is randomly killing the models. By this time I had totally forgotten about the tranny from the opening sequence… I don’t know how, maybe I filed the memory away in the crawlspace of my twisted mind. The first model to croak has her throat sliced open while she bathes alone. Yeah right… nude models bathe alone? What do they take us for idiots?

The following murder is that of a young couple fornicating in their trailer. This scene is almost impossible to enjoy as the filmmaker has decided that it would be a good idea to have a strobe pulsating through the entire sex scene and throughout the resulting murder. I thought I was going to break into an epileptic fit. Needless to say this one was worse than the previously mentioned sex-scene abomination.

The random murders continue with the highlight being the bizarre death by cling-wrap killing. Johnny and Cindy must fight for their lives against the mysterious transvestite in the surgical mask. The true identity of the killer is revealed towards the end of the film, but you can probably guess who from just reading this review let alone watching two-thirds of the movie. So no big surprise there.

It probably sounds like I am rubbishing this movie, but it’s the faults and stupidity that makes this one so damn entertaining. If you are expecting lots of gore and/or nudity you will probably be seriously disappointed. But if you are looking for a few cheap laughs and a dose of campy trash, it’s worth the two bucks you’ll fork over to own it on DVD. Find it in the bargain bin at your local supermarket while stocks last.

snakepeople karloff

Cult of The Dead (1971)

Cult of The Dead (1971)
Directed by Juan Ibanez & Jack Hill
Starring Boris Karloff, Julissa, Tongolele

Aka
Isle of the Snake People
Isle of the Living Dead
Muerte viviente, La (Mexico)
Snake People

During the last years of his life horror legend Boris Karloff made four films for a low budget company that operated out of Mexico. The scenes with Karloff were shot in Hollywood by B-movie schlock master Jack Hill and added via creative editing. This was Karloff’s second last flick and unfortunately a far cry from horror classics like Frankenstein (1931) or The Mummy (1932). Karloff is very frail and spends much of his scenes seated, possibly due to long suffering back problems from years of wearing a heavy brace dressed as the Frankenstein monster. It wasn’t uncommon for Boris to play characters confined to a wheel chair during this period.

Director Jack Hill has quite a few cult classics under his belt including Foxy Brown, Coffy, Spider Baby, The Wasp Woman and Switchblade Sisters. He also co-directed The Terror (1961) with Roger Corman, Francis Ford Coppola and Jack Nicholson. This movie isn’t his most popular but certainly shows the mark of an exploitation genius.

The film is not quite as bad as many reviewers will have you believe, by no means is it a great movie but there is enough here to keep trashy film lovers entertained. Set on a small, remote island (a remote French colony in the South Pacific) where the natives practice voodoo rituals and worship a priest called Damballah. The local law officials tend to turn a blind eye to the death cult’s bizarre activities until the arrival of Captain Labesch, a stern and militant officer from the mainland who vows to put a stop to the rituals and clean up the local hard-drinking police force. He travels to the island with Anabella (Julissa), a temperance crusader and niece of Carl Van Molder (Boris Karloff), who is a wealthy landowner and plantation tycoon. Labesch and Anabella hope to receive assistance from Van Molder in their mission to clean up the island. Van Molder has spent his life studying parapsychology and warns Labesch not to interfere with the ancient religion of the island’s natives. But Labesch is an arse-hole, so of course he doesn’t listen and begins a campaign to crack down on the practice of voodoo.

The plot is fairly standard, nothing terribly exciting but there is plenty of weirdness, stupidity and occult kookiness to keep the ball rolling. The rituals are probably the best part of the film. I was surprised to see famed exotic Mexican dancer and movie star Tongolele (billed here as Yolanda Montes) in the film. I recently had been given a Mexican magazine devoted to Tongele by a friend, I had previously not heard of her so was thrilled to see her exotic snake dances in motion. Tongele has a long career in Mexican films from the late 1940’s into the 1980’s and is apparently still dancing and acting to this day. And you thought your grandma was cool!

But there’s more than just exotic dancing and voodoo rituals here. “Like what?” I hear you ask. Well, how’s about cannibal women devouring unsuspecting men they meet in bars? The sacrifice of virgins administered by flagellation from a psychotic dwarf? Depraved white men trying to have their necrophilic ways with blue-skinned zombie babes? An erotic dream where Anabella sucks on a live snake and then has a big sloppy lesbian kiss with herself/doppelganger? Murder? Romance? Terrible acting? Bad dubbing? An obvious body-double for Karloff in the Mexican scenes ala Bela Lugosi and Plan 9 From Outer Space? What more do you people want? Blood? … We got that too!!