Bend Me, Shape Me, Anyway You Want Me

Society (1989)

All is not well in Billy's world. 

Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking...not another angst ridden pre-Dawson's Creek valium popping tosspot on our screens, we've seen this all before!  Mind you if I had to go to a poxy American high school for rich jock twats I'd be a bit miffed too, so let's be patient ok?

In actual fact Billy's problems run a bit deeper it seems and are far more interesting than the garden variety boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy faces paternity suit scenario...

So poor old Bill, between worm-infested and unorthodox anatomical hallucinations coupled with a sneaking suspicion his family members are experiencing a mutual appreciation which falls outside social norms, he's left feeling somewhat unsatisfied with his lot.  Not to mention having to prepare for his class president campaign, I mean how much can a young man take. 

At least like all good yanky school kids he has the compulsory shrink to confide in and Billy does this with absolute finesse delivering such gems as 'We're just one big happy family, except for a little incest and psychosis.'  Freud wishes he was alive today I tell ya.

Before we continue, I do have a confession to make.  I did once upon a time quite fancy Billy Warlock, who incidentally plays the lead character Billy Whitney (obviously it was best to not change his first name for the role, don't want to confuse the poor bastard).  However can I just say how in hells name did I not notice the mullet he was sporting!  Should have gone to bloody Specsavers, I am thoroughly ashamed of myself.  Anyway, enough self-flagellation for one day, back to the movie... 

To be fair to Billy (hair crimes aside) he may be onto something, as once you enter 'Society', you won't come back out the same again...stay glued till the end and all will be revealed.  As the tagline states, it is not what you think it is.  Plus I do love the fact that many a teenage valley girl may have flocked to see their Baywatch heartthrob in all his hairy glory, only to discover this film made them vomit into their chihuahua carrying designer handbags.  It's just like, like so totally gross I puked over Muffy, like totally.  That's one way of keeping the bulimia habit going.

Brian Yunza's (producer of Re-Animator fame) directorial debut gives a big ole' fisting to the upper echelons of our class system.  He slithers from odd-ball teenage melodrama to themes of gluttony, greed and perversion with satirical glee while Screaming Mad George's special effects are far more fun to watch than any CGI.  This is body morphing at its most bonkers.  Contortionists will be dislocating themselves with excitement and I give it a double jointed thumbs up.

Being born into privilege ain't all it's cracked up to be.

Bad to the Bone

Pervert! (2005)

James and his 'johnson' have a strained relationship.  In fact a spot of couples counselling wouldn't go astray here.

Lacking a certain je ne sais quoi with the ladies he compensates by generally being a compulsive wanker with a penchant for rhythm magazines and wonders why he can't get a date.

It's no surprise really, his dad Hezekiah is a sex crazed hick with a passion for sculpting the female form using off-cuts from the local deli and his mum is no doubt turning over in her sandy grave at the sorry state of things.  As so eloquently put by Hezekiah, 'If your mother could only see you now, she'd die....again!' 
Where did it all go wrong?

After a spell in New Orleans James is back at his dad's desert ranch for what appears to be a humdrum summer of chores in the company of inbreds.  But as if by magic, Hezekiah's new boob-flashing, deep-throating-corn-on-the-cob girlfriend Cheryl sees rather large potential in James and sticks to him like a bee to honey (and she really likes honey).  Needless to say Hezekiah ain't too chuffed on discovering the most unclandestine affair in banjo country and when Cheryl disappears into the night, things really start to get fruity...even I wasn't expecting what was to come...

We're talking Russ Meyer, John Waters, death, cheesecake, gore, grindhouse, the artistic merits of cold-cuts, a gay neo-nazi ghetto mechanic, voodoo and so, so much more.  This is an outrageous tit-shaking, willy-rousing, trashy sexploitation flick of the highest order with a kicking soundtrack.  Mary Carey's acting is definitely scary but then so is a night in with Mariah's back catalogue, which would you prefer?  I rest my case.

This one goes out to all the wronguns.  You disgust me.

It's My Party and I'll Cry if I Want To

Happy Birthday To Me (1981)

Virginia is having issues.  Bless her.

Who knows what her problem is.  She's attending the elite Crawford Academy, rolling in dosh, been accepted into the fold of the 'Top Ten' super cool posse and living back in the family home which means mum's grave is in touching distance for regular visits.
She should be happy right?

Reality is though her mates are twats (girlfriend swapping and knicker sniffing are rife with this lot), mum's pushing up daisies, dad doesn't understand her angst and since losing half her brain down the local river after an unfortunate accident a few years back, she just hasn't been feeling herself.  To top at all off she's about to turn another year older.  And people wonder where emos come from.

I felt a sense of warm and fuzzy nostaglia on returning to this flick from my yoof.  However I would like to point out it is me who deserves the party as I felt like I'd aged considerably just waiting for the story to unfold, seems I was far more patient as a child.  Virginia's crew are gradually (and I mean gradually) getting picked off one by one for reasons unknown (although for the most part nobody seems to give a toss) but there is far too much poxyfiller going on between death scenes making it all.....very.....slow......zzzz. 

I think I'm probably eligible for my pension by this point.

Virginia's flashbacks to her accident and experimental brain surgery provide a dark glimpse of macabre but these were few and far between and I was left wanting more.  How this movie landed an original R rating I do not know. The film has some interesting concepts and plot twists toward the latter stages but early attempts to build suspense fall flat.   Unfortunately the gristly backbone of the story is crammed into the last climactic 20 minutes or so where all is revealed to why Ginny is really being such a mardy arse when she should be celebrating.  Blame Canada, it was filmed there after all.

Saying all that you gotta hand it to Melissa Sue Anderson playing the role of Virginia.  Going from Little House on the Prairie to this, good job girl.  She was even nominated for a Young Artist Award for the role, go figure.  Veteran Glenn Ford also stars as Ginny's much needed shrink.  Plus it has an all time great 'death by shish kebab' scene.

Whoever said meat is murder, clearly was bang on.

Blinded by the Light

Død Snø (2009)

Dead Snow started slow

but as the blood began to flow

got its mojo

Bruce Campbellesque

with chainsaw twists

nazi zombies rein high

Ein! Zwei! Die!

Ah poetry, ist gut innit?

I have to say any promo poster that has a fine specimen of nazi zombie manhood decapitated but still looking like he means business is a winner in my book.

With a poster that triumphs as does the punchy tagline I was quite the happy camper looking forward to a good ole nazi zombie love-in.

So when the premise is a group of Norwegian mates from medical school head off to a remote cabin for a spot of winter sports and general naughtiness, of course it's going to end badly.  They get the usual warnings from an odd-ball traveller by night making an impromptu visit but proceed to write him off as just another random weirdo that you get round these here parts.  A faux pas shall we say.

I have admit in the early stages I did begin to wonder if my initial excitement was a little premature, for a movie set in the snow there seemed to be an awful lot happening in the dark.  Which in theory is fine from an atmospheric 'building a sense of impending doom' point of view but not when it's so dark there is no peril to be seen and frankly my squinting wasn't producing much...  This, combined with the nagging internal question of 'where are all the fucking zombies?' was beginning to get me a tad despondent.  The memorable toilet shagging scene aside (which I thought was an inventive way of bringing scat to mainstream cinema) I started to think maybe I'd been duped by a beautiful poster promising me so much yet here I was in the dark watching, well the dark and thinking about scat.  Not ideal.

But then the daylight came and all was revealed.  I'm pleased to say with it the story picked up a notch and we were all systems go, chainsaws a flingin,' limbs a tearin', disembowelin' a plenty with a generous splattering of ruby red blood against a backdrop of glorious white.  It was all on the up.  Good looking zombies too.  A nod to Evil Dead thrown in and a healthy dose of gallows humour all helped to put a smile back on my face.

 This is one instance where I will say light triumphs over dark.