Bridging the gap between pure psychological horror with a touch of humor and gore into something polarly opposite isn't an easy task. And there is no better example of that in the realm of scary movies than New Line Cinema's maligned 1990 slasher sequel, Leatherface: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre III. Though technically an '80s flick, Jeff Burr's 1990 contribution to the famous film franchise ‒ which still exists today via an occasional, unnecessary reboot every couple of years ‒ became an instant target for fans and foes alike. Several years before, the Cannon Group released Tobe Hooper's The Texas Chainsaw
Results tagged “Bad”
The Warner Archive Collection revs up the gas for Jeff Burr's controversial buzzer.
John Ashley and Pam Grier highlight this hilariously cheesy slice of Filipino rip-off cinema.
When fans of sleazy exploitation movies get together to discuss their favorite contributions to bad filmmaking from the Philippines, Eddie Romero's name is rarely left out. In fact, the late B-movie guru from the same country that brought us national treasures like the films of Weng Weng is undoubtedly one of the "best" known directors to hail from the country, thanks to a series of mind-numbing mad scientist flicks from the late '60s and early '70s informally referred to as the Blood Island movies. Following the conclusion of the aforementioned series, the late Mr. Romero found himself cranking out a
Pop Cinema releases two cool SWV double features, albeit in compressed, condensed form.
There's an unofficial saying pertaining to the world of adult-oriented filmmaking which goes something along the lines of "If you can think it, someone has already filmed it." Various horrors which shall undoubtedly spew forth from your subconscious once you've thought long and hard about that notwithstanding, there is that occasional moment in time wherein you witness something you had actually wanted to see. For years, I had imagined a scenario involving a man and woman in a post-apocalyptic setting whose first meeting is interrupted by a kung fu fight to the finish with roaming bandits. You can imagine the
Kino Lorber Studio Classics re-releases the awkward, awful remake starring doughy Gérard Depardieu and jailbait Katherine Heigl.
The amazing world of French cinema is unquestionably a unique artform unto itself. So it the remaking of French features for American audiences, for that matter. Alas, the latter skill is something very few people have ever been able to master, and has mostly ever resulted in a heap of bad '90s movies floated into theaters under one Disney distribution label or another. Which brings me to My Father the Hero ‒ Disney's lamentable 1994 attempt at remaking the 1991 French comedy, Mon père, ce héros ‒ as helmed by director Steve Miner (Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken) for release
Unapologetically sleazy and unintentionally hilarious, another Italian exploitation mess-terpiece arrives in the U.S. from RaroVideo.
If you can envision what might happen were someone to create a ’50s style propaganda movie à la George Weiss in the vein of ’60s arthouse roughie by Doris Wishman fused with all of the sense and sensibilities of a cheap ’70s exploitation flick written by Ed Wood, there’s a fairly good possibility you might be prepared for everything The Teenage Prostitution Racket has to offer. Even then, however, you still might not be ready. Sewn together much in the same way a five-year-old would darn a pair of socks ‒ replete with plenty of awkward stitchings that make a
The Warner Archive Collection cordially invites you to attend the premiere of Rachel Ward's slasher movie debut in High-Definition.
One of several kajillion slasher movies manufactured in the early '80s alone, the American-made Night School sports an oddly Canadian aura about it throughout ‒ from the British director (Ken Hughes, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, The Internecine Project) and starlet Rachel Ward (in her film debut) to the vaguely familiar, mostly nocturnal urban New England location photography by Scanners cinematographer Mark Irwin, right down to the finale which honors the horror sub-genre's giallo roots. When viewed in this erroneous light, Night School feels like some sort of underrated cult classic. Amusing enough, however, if you stare directly into the big
Massacre Video brings us a High-Def release of this cult Satanic Panic '80s horror oddity.
Only a short time ago, finding a copy of Jag Mundhra's low-budget '80s horror flick Hack-O-Lantern on VHS was similar to discovering the source of The Nile. Granted, said copy would usually be a well-worn one, as the direct-to-video film ‒ which also once bore the title Death Mask before seeing later distribution on home video under the title Halloween Night ‒ was certainly not the sort of moving picture to have made rounds on the retail videocassette market. Rather, Hack-O-Lantern was the sort of schlocky cheesy tripe which could have only hailed from the glorious days of rental pricing;
VCI Entertainment re-releases Steve Barkett's wild, low-budget post-apocalyptic cult classic co-starring the one and only Sid Haig.
Were you to whisper the name "Steve Barkett" to the average moviegoer, a lengthy pause with near-audible chirping crickets in the background may follow. Say Barkett's name to an aficionado of low-budget sci-fi and horror movies from the days when people still shot independent movies on film, however, and you're entirely likely to get a different reaction. From a much more personal perspective, I actually met a former colleague of his at a coffee shop; an encounter which would later result in me inheriting several reels of film from two of Mr. Barkett's films. Well, let me rephrase that slightly
With everything from original production materials to a bonus feature Ed allegedly worked on, this AGFA/SWV BD is packin' a lot of Wood.
The list of filmmakers best known for helming the worst movies ever made is a long and varied one. In fact, it grows more and more with each passing year. But even as contemporary contenders and waning wannabes vie for some sort of misplaced honor (or misattributed attention) in the awkward world of unintentionally terrible motion pictures, one name still manages to frequently take the lead: that of amateur auteur Edward D. Wood, Jr. Since Wood's untimely passing in December 1978, his delightfully delirious titles ‒ including the early (if totally bizarre) LGBT drama Glen or Glenda? and the sci-fi/horror
The Warner Archive Collection gives the campy U.S./Japanese cult classic a stellar new HD transfer.
Apart from the occasional World War II movie, there haven't been terribly many instances in film history wherein the US and Japan collaborated on something together. When they did, the results tended to vary, ranging from epic successes such as Tora! Tora! Tora! to movies almost as disastrous as WWII itself. And it is there, on the latter list of atrocities, that you will find a barely moving motion picture; one which has been sitting ‒ quite comfortably, at that ‒ in the same illustrious spot for several decades. An unofficial sequel to the mid '60s Gamma One quadrilogy from
The Warner Archive Collection puts an awful lot of effort into an awful Ray Bradbury adaptation.
In 1951, genre novelist (and all-around legendary icon) Ray Bradbury published The Illustrated Man ‒ a collection of eighteen short stories based around a former carnival sideshow freak whose body is covered in an assortment of mysterious tattoos which come to animated life as they relay bizarre tales hailing from different corners of time and space. Were that not already a recipe for box-office poison, the people behind Warner Bros./Seven Arts' 1969 feature adaptation of the same name threw out more than just five-sixths of Bradbury's tales: they also threw out all of the coherency. There is also a very
Mill Creek Entertainment releases Antonio Margheriti's wild fantasy movie mashup, complete with an all-new commentary by star Reb Brown.
The early 1980s brought with it many marvels in the world of film, including a swarm of trend-setting horror, science fiction, and fantasy films ‒ the likes of which still inspire filmmakers to this day. Naturally, such a surge in genre fables did not go unnoticed in countries like Italy, where imitation was considered the sincerest form of infringement-worthy flattery. But just simply copying the premise of one popular American (or Australian) flick in particular was too easy of a task for certain Italian exploitation filmmakers, leading them to mash various movies (and genres) together in order to make something
The AGFA returns with a double-billing of ham-fisted fighting flicks which may cause you to question your sanity.
Imagine if a small gathering of very serious grade schoolers miraculously collected enough money to write and produce an entire motion picture. Now let's envision they cast their teachers, parents, and the latter's various associates from the PTA, borrowing plot points and music from other, legitimate Hollywood productions with nary a concern for copyright infringement to be had. Now picture them fusing their tale with the very sort of feverish storytelling one might expect from a bunch of little kids, but set amidst production standards akin to that of a posh community theater project (or perhaps something you might see
Taraji P. Henson does all she can to salvage greatness out of what is a complete snoozer of an action flick.
When watching the retro opening credits of Proud Mary where our main heroine is getting prepped up with the song “Papa Was A Rolling Stone” playing the background, it seems like we’re in for an action thrill ride in the vein of '70s blaxploitation films. But then, within the first thirty seconds, our expectations immediately become squandered. It seemed like it would be an exciting John Wick-style vehicle for Taraji P. Henson but it ended up being a complete misfire that does a disservice to her talents. Proud Mary follows the story of a hit woman named Mary (Taraji P.
Fathom Events brings the cult classic to big screens nationwide for one night, featuring new trailer for 'Best F(r)iends'.
Press release: Referred to as "the ‘Citizen Kane’ of bad movies," The Room is receiving a remarkable resurgence due to the popularity of James Franco’s The Disaster Artist. Movie buffs across the nation will have the opportunity to see auteur Tommy Wiseau’s opus on the big screen when “Tommy Wiseau’s The Room” comes to U.S. movie theaters on Wednesday, January 10, 2018 at 8:00 p.m. local time. In addition to the full-length feature, moviegoers will enjoy a special look at the new Best F(r)iends trailer, starring Wiseau and Greg Sestero. Tickets for “Tommy Wiseau’s The Room” can be purchased online
Kino Lorber gives us a double feature offering of two 'lesser' Michael Dudikoff actioneers.
Yes, that's right, kids ‒ our favorite American Ninja has returned to kick a little ass on Blu-ray once more. This time around, the folks at Kino Lorber have given us a double feature of Vietnam-focused films to star the one and only Michael Dudikoff: 1988's Platoon Leader and 1995's Soldier Boyz. Our first selection, Platoon Leader, hails from the Dudikoff's propitious Cannon days. Oddly enough, however, this was one of very few Cannon releases to not actually be produced by company founders Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus; rather, this drama set during the Vietnam War (and filmed in South
Kino Lorber digs up a beautiful print of a less-than-remembered guilty pleasure B-noir from Republic Pictures.
The career of the late Vera Ralston was perhaps more fascinating off-screen than it was on. After escaping her native Czechoslovakia immediately before the Nazis closed the borders off during World War II, the former ice skater later became Republic Pictures head Herbert J. Yates' personal discovery, and he frequently cast her in pictures. Alas, even Ralston's thick Czech accent ‒ coupled with the fact she she didn't speak English terribly well and had to learn her lines phonetically ‒ was not enough to excuse her "unique" acting skills, and it was only a matter of time before her career
While the talent may have been fresh, it's clear no one in Garry Marshall's soap opera spoof scrubbed up first.
One might imagine a comedy starring the likes of Michael McKean, Sean Young, Harry Dean Stanton, Patrick Macnee, Dabney Coleman, Ted McGinley, Taylor Negron, Pamela Reed, Saul Rubinek, Michael Richards, Hector Elizondo, Crystal Bernard, and Richard Dean Anderson would be a laugh-a-minute masterpiece. And while I'm sure such a movie exists in an alternate universe somewhere, it has yet to emerge in our reality. One of the first spoofs produced in the wake turbulence of Airplane!, 1982's Young Doctors in Love almost plays like a dirtier, dumber version of Scrubs ‒ right down to being produced by ABC (it was
Joe Pesci's waning career gets ahead of itself in this delightfully dumb film now available in HD from Twilight Time.
Though it may not be something I'm particularly proud of, movies from the late '90s are a source of bittersweet wisdom for me, having spent the entire duration of said era as a very devoted video store manager. It was there I discovered it was one of the few professions where you could actually benefit from being your own best customer, but I didn't necessarily watch everything that went out on the shelves. Not that we received everything released (not unless there was some sort of bulk discount involved), but I did watch an awful lot of the moving pictures
Jose Ferrer directs Pat Boone, Bobby Darin, and Ann-Margret in an awkward musical remake of a musical remake.
Were Twilight Time's double-bill of the Reader's Digest-produced early '70s musical adaptations of Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn just not enough to satisfy the song-and-dance movie lover in you, don't worry. Because now they've added another musical remake of a classic tale to their lineup with Rodgers and Hammerstein's State Fair. But this isn't the famous 1945 musical remake of the original non-musical 1933 pre-Code film State Fair, boys and girls. Rather, this particular version is the (hold onto your straw hats, kids) musical remake of the musical remake of the original non-musical movie. You may take a