This is the story of Andy, a man who was cheated on by his wife. So he got himself a boat called Evil Ways and took to the seas to look for booty. Literal booty of course. While there he comes across a gorgeous blond woman who is keen to his womanizing and helps him invite some partiers to feast lunch meat, and cheap beer while swapping partners. What’s a guy to do? When will Andy stop this hollow existence of sleeping with beautiful women?
“Don’t Go in the Woods… Alone!” is one of the Video Nasties that renders the slasher genre completely inept with a film that’s nothing but splatter fodder. And bad splatter fodder to boot. Representing the worst the slasher sub-genre has to offer, “Don’t Go in the Woods… Alone!” is bereft of a storyline, common sense, and even likable characters. The only two people that manage to survive our hobo serial killer are two of the most grating heroes pictured in the genre.
“I like movies that make America look great. Like “Rambo III”!”
“Teenage Wasteland” is about as inept a slasher movie as you can get, and yet it’s oddly compelling. Once again campers begin disappearing at the hands of Angela, and no one really knows why or wants to know where they went. All Angela has to say is “They went somewhere” and that’s fine for the cannon fodder that appear throughout “Sleepaway Camp III.”
It didn’t take long for “Sleepaway Camp” to mock its own premise, as after the shocking ending to “Sleepaway Camp,” “Unhappy Campers” doesn’t miss a beat in re-introducing Angela. In fact she’s a puritanical camp counselor devoted to stopping the hormonal teenagers running wild in her camp, many of whom want to outdo Angela and run her out of camp with pranks that go awry thanks to Angela’s own clever thinking.
You would think in a time where films like “Blackenstein” and “Dr Black, and Mr, Hyde,” that “Blacula” would be one of the worst blaxploitation titles of its time. Despite the title, “Blacula” is actually one of the strongest vampire films of all time, and one of the creepiest of its sub-genre. “Blacula” is a tragic character drawn a victim to his blood lust who begins turning everyone in to his spawn when he finds himself alive in the twentieth century, and it’s a shock to see such an entertaining movie arise from a concept spun off from Count Dracula.
Jess Franco’s vampire film genuinely doesn’t live up to the hype it’s garnered with horror and film buffs over the decades since its release. It’s a tedious and often dull affair that manages to numb the sexuality due to its incessant filler. The filler is ever present from the opening shots, and is used to pad the film’s run time, from performances in front of crowds, right down to dream sequences, much of it is used as a tactic to pad a thinly veiled “Dracula” remake.
And everywhere, eighties geeks just had the largest orgasm after watching “Kung Fury.” In fact, if you’re an eighties geek, I dare you not to break down in tears while watching. David Sanberg’s “Kung Fury” is bleeding eighties ephemera from every orifice. It’s a sweet eighties homage that mixes every cliché imaginable right down to the screaming police sergeant forcing a new partner on his rebel cop. Triceracop. There’s actually a goddamn Triceracop.
Director William Wesley’s “Scarecrows” is the epitome of a good idea given a poor execution. “Scarecrows” is one of the many scary scarecrow movies that have become a sub-genre onto themselves in the horror genre, and director Wesley paints his tale like an EC Comics story. Though I can think of plenty more films about scarecrows with a better delivery of its concept; particularly “Dark Night of the Scarecrow.”