Formerly "Dave's Blog About Movies and Such"

Monday, October 31, 2011

The Video Dead (1987)

dir. Robert Scott

I never had video games as a kid. My family was poor. Plus my parents didn't cotton to that kind of mindless time-wastin'; so I grew up a movie addict instead. But I did have friends with video games. And I did leach off of their inviting-me-over-to-play-some-video-games-with-them-from-time-to-time goodwill, so that I could spend every last minute I had giving myself premature carpal tunnel. And I do remember the slight letdown that occurred every time I saw the dynamic, detailed paintings on video game cartridge covers of cool creatures and action within the video games, only to be met by the pixelated nothingness the 8 bit systems at the time were capable of displaying.

Oh books, why can't you ever live up to your covers?

Such was also the case with the poster to movie awesomeness ratio of Robert Scott's eighties, straight-to-video, horror (I guess)-comedy (I guess) The Video Dead. Few things are as infuriating to me as bad comedy. And bad horror-comedies? That shit falls somewhere between scat porn and the oeuvre of Rob Schneider. Bad dramas are full of unintentional humor; bad comedies rarely achieve even accidental entertainment status. And so The Video Dead was met by me with lots of disinterested eye-rolling.

A couple of delivery men mistakenly deliver a zombie-producing TV to a man who gets done in by the creatures.

["Well that's nice—a used TV, which, for some reason, has a mirrored strapped to the front of it. That's a nice little gift. I'm sure it would be fine if I took the mirror—which, again, I'm not gonna question the reason for it being there—if I took that off the TV so that I could watch some—]

["Ok, TV, lightning—I get it. Now get back to working. This is only marginally more interesting than the reruns I was gonna watch."]

["Seriously, TV, you need to cut this out. I've got TV watching to do. If this zombie can't at least re-enact a Murder She Wrote episode, I'm gonna get very annoyed."]

[This is what the zombies do to the unfortunate man.]

[And then this is how the first witnesses to the gruesome end of the victim react to the horror. Yes: a soon-to-be recurring theme in this movie of people reacting to grisly monsters and murder as if they have just been informed the office building doesn't validate parking.]

So, anyway, new people move into the TV-zombie house—the parents are away, but the son and daughter make themselves at home—and the son discovers the zombie TV. Although he initially gets a fright, a an old cowboy zombie-hunter appears and tells him to store the TV in the basement and strap a mirror to the front so that the zombies—apparently extremely vain and unwilling to gaze at their unbecoming reflections—will not venture into the non-TV world.

[When I was a kid, we had an old TV that shit the bed, after which it emitted a little bit of smoke. It was more exciting than this movie.]

And then the old cowboy says something about the zombies being unkillable, but that, if shot and whatnot, will pretend to be dead for some period of time, before they get up and return to havocking. To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention to this inane plot device. Because fuck this movie.

[Yet another subdued reaction to zombies. I think this movie was less about a zombie attack than an attempt by the living dead to force stiff non-actors into emoting.]

And then, because he's a class act, the cowboy takes the kid to the woods for zombie hunting and uses said kid as bait.

["No, no, this is...I'm totally cool up here."]

And then the cowboy and the kid get killed; and so the zombies converge upon the house to attack the sister, who remembers an important bit of inane-plot-device bullshit told to her by the cowboy: the zombies will only attack when humans appear frightened. (Again, given all the non-reactions of the actors to the zombies, I'm going to assume that the fact that the zombies still decided to attack the nonplussed folks was a bit of subtle "comedy" on the part of the director...either that or shitty film-making.) So, the sister puts on a happy face and has a dinner party with the zombies.

[For all the shit I've piled on this movie, I do have to admit that this is a pretty neat visual.]

And then other stuff happens.

And then, who gives a shit.

[The trailer:]

Dave's Rating:

Friday, October 28, 2011

KL5-FILM Podcast Episode 4 - The Long Goodbye

dir. Robert Altman

My friend Nate Katz and I discuss Robert Altman's amazing film The Long Goodbye. Also, Nate talks about getting drunk with Carrot Top. You can follow Nate on twitter @FuRealNateKatz. Warning: spoilers here. You can listen to the episode here.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Awesome Movie Trailers: Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)

dir. Frank Capra

I know many people have horror movie marathons around Halloween time; and many readers of my blog would most likely assume I'd do the same. The thing is, I watch so many horror movies all the time, Halloween's just another day for me. If anything, I go the other direction and try to stick to mostly non-horror movies this time of the year. After being bombarded with all the Halloween hoopla, I just get kinda of bored of it all. This time of the year is palate cleansing time.

When I was a young'un, however, I couldn't go a Halloween without watching Frank Capra's Arsenic and Old Lace: a Cary Grant-starring film about a couple of kindly old women who euthanize drifters. This horror comedy (emphasis on the comedy) is the closest I've ever come to a Halloween horror movie ritual.

[The trailer:]

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

KL5-FILM Podcast Episode 3 - The Ward

dir. John Carpenter

My writing partner Roger Snead and I discuss John Carpenter's recent disappointing film The Ward. Warning: numerous spoilers. You can listen to the episode here.

Monday, October 24, 2011

The Manster (1959)

dir. George P. Breakston and Kenneth G. Crane

You thought I was through with the two-headed-monster films, didn't you? Didn't you? Well, you can't stop me. No. Nothing can stop me. Nothing, I tells ya. Nothing. Mwhaa ha ha ha. Anyway, just when I thought all that was worth covering two-headed-monster-films-wise was covered here at the old KL5-FILM, the Japanese/American co-production The Manster had to come along a bunch of decades ago and bitch-slap the shit out of me.

Although by no means uncampy, The Manster exists—as much as any film containing a two-headed monster can—closer to the real world than those lovable 70s flicks on the subject I reviewed months prior. Honestly, despite all its cheapo trappings, The Manster is actually not that bad a flick. Though occasionally laughable, it is of a piece with the numerous high-minded sci-fi movies produced in the 50s. And at 71 minutes it never overstays its welcome.

Larry Stanford (Peter Dyneley), an American reporter working as a foreign correspondent in Japan, goes to visit mad scientist Robert Suzuki (Tetsu Nakamura), a man who boasts that his lab is powered entirely by the energy of the local volcano. (Note to reporters investigating scientists: It’s never a good sign when said scientists boastfully point to the fact their lab is powered by the awesome fury contained in the hellish bowels of Satan’s lair. Yeah, don’t trust anyone who’s off the grid.) While chatting with the good doctor mad scientist over a glass of scotch, Stanford gets roofied by the scientist, who then injects him with a serum that will eventually sprout a head from Stanford's shoulder. Because that's how science works.

Oh yeah, there's the dickishness—the serum also turns Stanford into a dick. Specifically, he fails to listen to the concerns of his America-bound wife when chatting with her on the phone.

["There are three of me watching myself."]

It isn’t long before Stanford enters super-cheating-on-his-wife-with-random-Geishas mode.

["Oh no, we love waiting hand and foot on over-privileged Americans. This is a dream job."]

And then Stanford goes to a monk for some guidance/monk-killing.

["Oh. My. Dear. God. Your bald cap is rejecting your head."]

All before finally sprouting a new head, eye first.

["Cute little thing. I think I'll name him Baby Ash."]

And then he runs amok, killing people, until tiring of it at which point he decides to do in his maker, the mad scientist.

["You look upset. Is this about that styrofoam head I superglued to your shoulder? You can't expect me not to superglue styrofoam heads to your shoulder after you get drunk and pass out. Sheesh, I thought you could take a joke."]

And then he decides to escape before the authorities arrive.

["Watch out, that miniature volcano is pissing a sparkler."]

And then the styrofoam head begins to separate from Stanford.

["I swear this isn't what it looks like."]

And then Stanford throws the separated creature into the volcano.

And then the movie ends after 71 minutes. 'Nuff said.

[Double-Feature trailer with The Horror Chamber of Dr. Faustus:]

Dave's Rating:

Friday, October 21, 2011

KL5-FILM Podcast Episode 2 - Breaking Bad Season 4

My friend Cliff Larcom and I discuss Season 4 of Breaking Bad. Warning: this discussion contains numerous spoilers. You can follow Cliff on twitter @cliffordlarcom. You can listen to the podcast here.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Podcast Episode 1 - Drive

dir. Nicolas Winding Refn

My writing partner Roger Snead and I discuss, among other things, Nicolas Winding Refn's film Drive. Warning: spoilers abound. You can listen to the podcast here.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Ghost Fever (1987)

dir. Lee Madden as Alan Smithee

Being the hardcore lover of cinematic dreck that I am, I doubt it's wise for me to mention such a thing on my frequent-tribute-to-cinematic-dreck blog, but here goes: until this past week I had never seen an Alan Smithee film. Phew, feels good to finally get that out; I held it in for far too long. Yep, I'm nothing but a fraud. I guess now is the time for me to hand in my bad-movie-lover badge.

To those not in the know, Alan Smithee was the illustrious director of such films as Gypsy Angels, Stitches and Bloodsucking Pharaohs in Pittsburgh; as well as numerous TV episodes (Mrs Columbo, Code of Vengeance and Red Shoe Diaries) and TV movies (Dalton: Code of Vengeance, The Birds II: Land's End, and The O.J. Simpson Story). Another way of saying it: the man was not known for quality. And yet another way of saying it: Alan Smithee was the now-defunct DGA-approved pseudonym for any director who lost artistic control of his picture and decided not to be associated with said picture.

(I can't imagine how much the studio must have fucked with Bloodsucking Pharaohs in Pittsburgh, for the director, a man who knowingly signed on to a movie titled Bloodsucking Pharaohs in Pittsburgh, to say, "this isn't the Bloodsucking Pharaohs in Pittsburgh I signed on for; I'll be damned if my name is associated with this artistically compromised piece of shit.")

I guess the obvious reason I never previously watched an Alan Smithee film was that I never felt the irresistible pull to watch one. After all, Alan Smithee films are, by definition, the uninteresting products of studio group-think. The only thing worse than mediocrity is watered-down, generic, produced-by-committee mediocrity.

I still have yet to meet a Smithee film I feel compelled to devour. What I did meet last week, however, was a boring night that found me searching through the morass of excrement available on Netflix's streaming service—finally surrendering after encountering the George Jefferson (Sherman Hemsley) starring horror comedy Ghost Fever. ("Might as well. I already jerked off tonight; I've got nothing else to do.")

After breaking my Smithee cherry with Ghost Fever, I was left with so many questions—chief among them being: Why did all involved (not least of which: actual director Lee Madden) not opt to burn all copies of the movie, piss on the ashes, and salt the earth upon which it was filmed?

And after all this attention to the fake-tastic Alan Smithee; what, you may be asking, of Ghost Fever’s actual director—Lee Madden? Well, Mr. Madden was a reliable exploitationeer of old whose crowning achievement/debut, the badass biker flick Hell’s Angels ’69, was followed (before being interrupted by an episode of The Most Deadly Game) by the less than stellar biker-cum-hippie flick Angel Unchained. Subsequent 70s output included numerous TV episodes and horror films—the last being 1978’s killer leopard flick Night Creature. Following a drought of nearly a decade, Madden put his last remaining filmic energy into crafting Ghost Fever. Reportedly, after watching the final product, Madden uttered with a defeated sigh, “what have I done?” Then, when he attempted to destroy the negative, the studio heads beat him down, yanked the film away, and told him his days of movie-making were over. (The fact that he never made another movie clearly backs up my theory. Just try and prove my story wrong, folks.)

I guess now is as good a time as any to say a little something about Ghost Fever (catch the fever). Sherman Hemsley stars in two roles—henceforth referred to as ghost George Jefferson and not-ghost George Jefferson. Not-ghost George Jefferson and his partner Benny (Luis Avalos), two Atlanta gumshoes, have been assigned the task of evicting two old women residing at the Magnolia estate. Problem is, Magnolia estate is haunted by g-g-g-g-g-g-g-ghost George Jefferson and his ghost pal Andrew Lee (Myron Healey), the son of the brutal slave owner who made ghost George Jefferson's life a living hell—that is, when he was alive.

Ghost George Jefferson and Andrew have made a pact to keep Magnolia estate in Andrew's family—why ghost George Jefferson agreed to this is beyond me—and to this end they have haunted Magnolia house, keeping away interlopers throughout the years. What they have also tried to keep away, and whose return they have not been prepared for, is Andrew's crazy racist slave-owner dad's ghost.

Into these crazy ghost shenanigans have entered Benny and not-ghost George Jefferson. And soon they are trapped in the old mansion. In between bouts with the supernatural, the two fend off the advances of the hot, young-looking sisters. These sisters, as it turns out, are actually living dead-ish old coots who stay young as long as they stay in Magnolia. Yep, they are ghosts of a sort; and Benny and not-ghost George Jefferson do all they can to not give in to ghost fever (hey, that's the name of the movie).

Hey, wait, what's this? Benny has a chance to leave. Sweet. After jumping out a window; he's home free...

["For the love of God, ghosts, don't pull me back into this movie."]

...but then, he gets sucked back in, and instantly welcomes Stockholm Syndrome/ghost-poontang with open arms. He also does battle with glowing shit...

["Where was I? That's right—sexing on a ghost."]

...but then it's back to business. Then, for some reason, he and not-ghost George Jefferson have a dance-off with Andrew's ghost dad.

[Obviously the ghost of the racist slave-owner who died in 1860 can moonwalk and breakdance. Also, I do believe Benny and not-ghost George Jefferson just got, as the kids do say, served.]

So, then, after getting their asses handed to them in the dance-off, they get they seance on. It is at this point that ghost George Jefferson realizes what a piece of shit movie he's in. While watching the French-ish medium converse with Benny and Buford, he exclaims, "if that's a French accent, I'm speaking Italian." In other words, "I'm George Jefferson; how the fuck did I get conned into appearing in this movie?"

So, anyway, Benny and not-ghost George Jefferson discover that, in addition to being a ghost, Andrew's dad is also a vampire who's constructing a zombie army. Why not.

[Here's some zombies. Hey, Alan Smithee, should we also worry about the return of the curse of the creature's ghost? ]

Then the two cops kill Andrew's vampire dad and all is right. Oh yeah, except that without some cash, the ghost sisters will get evicted. What are they to do?

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, at the beginning of the movie Benny and not-ghost George Jefferson comment to each other that famed boxer Terrible Tucker (Joe Frazier) has put up a challenge to any civilian willing to step into the ring with him for three rounds. The reward: shit-loads of cash. Well, that's a random piece of information to give us, movie. In that early scene, Not-ghost George Jefferson may as well have said, "I know what they say about Chekhov's 'Terrible Tucker,' but I don't think this plot device will show up later in the movie."

So Benny decides to step into the ring with a man who could very well kill him.

["Turn that goddamn camera off. Who gave you permission to put me in your movie. I'm Joe Frazier, goddamnit."]

[Anyone who thinks the boxing commission would put a stop to a fight between the former heavyweight champion of the world and a civilian half his size, clearly does not understand how stuff works.]

Now is as good a time as any time to end my plot breakdown, because...well, you get the idea. Ghost Fever has the attention span of an ADHD teen on a video game and meth-infused-pixie-stick bender. Was there anything—aside from, you know, the dignity of all involved—Alan Smithee wasn't willing to throw in this movie? The answer: no.

[The trailer:]

Dave's Rating:

Thursday, October 13, 2011

This Is How You Interview

Apparently, it's Cassavetes week here at the blog. Check out this discussion Cavett attempted to have with John Cassavetes, Peter Falk, and Ben Gazarra regarding their new movie Husbands. Damn, I would have loved to hang out with these guys.

[Part 1:]

[Part 2:]

[Part 3:]

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Movie Theme Song Wednesday: Magnolia (1999)

dir. Paul Thomas Anderson

"Save Me" - Aimee Mann

[Ok, I know I usually don't write stuff for the theme song posts, but I just wanna state that I know this song is listed specifically as the theme song to Magnolia. That being said, it was one of only two songs Mann wrote specifically for the film, and it plays over the end credits. It seemed as good a choice as any to use for this entry.]

Monday, October 10, 2011

Trailer Time: Repulsion (1965)

dir. Roman Polanski

Extreme close-up of still image pulls out to reveal Carole (Catherine Deneuve), while a carnival barker-esque, grindhouse narrator describes her beauty. Image now superimposed over footage from the film. Cymbals crashing (now and throughout the rest of the trailer). More extreme closeups. Man tries to break into Carole's apartment. The title appears as the narrator states, "Repulsion—a frightening film that takes the everyday world and distorts it." Over the end of this sentence is seasoned the image of Carole's distorted doorknob reflection. Throughout the rest of the trailer: more striking, haunting images from the film accompanied by the roadshow narrator's description of Carole's descent into madness.

Although this trailer is full of spoilers—a move on the part of the studio, as I've stated before, that is always super dick—and although I have a penchant for dissecting spoilery trailers (see: previous comment), I have decided not focus on this flaw in the trailer. Spoilers aside, most of this trailer works and is representative of the film; the narration, however, is off-key and nearly ruins the piece. Yes, Roman Polanski's brilliant Repulsion is a horror film of a kind, but not the kind the narrator assumes. Repulsion is a headfuck of a movie whose horror is rooted in the claustrophobic subjective point-of-view depiction of a woman's descent into madness—not a drive-in monster movie. Yet no one told the narrator.

If I made this trailer, I would have cut the spoilerific clips, kept all the other clips, kept the cymbals, and ditched all but this alliteration-licious bit of narration, "...and fact and fantasy are fused in a frantic fury of repulsion."

[The trailer:]

Friday, October 7, 2011

Movies I'm Anticipating: Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011)

dir. Sean Durkin

John Hawkes is one of the most versatile actors working today. How he is not a household name yet is beyond me.

[The trailer:]

Thursday, October 6, 2011

"Do you think you're a genius or a really sick person?"

It is hard to overstate what a shock to the film world Blue Velvet was on its arrival. As I've stated before, as jaded as I've become by most shocking cinema, this Lynch film still has the power to unnerve me. Being as I was six when this movie came out, I wasn't aware of its existence until some time later; but when I did see it, I felt violated. I can only imagine what 80s audiences—steeped in John Hughes and Rambo movies as they were—felt after seeing Blue Velvet. (Yes, obviously these films didn't really share common audiences, but how else was I gonna get Blue Velvet, John Hughes and Rambo in the same sentence?)

Keep that in mind when watching the fidgety, though polite, Lynch struggle through a 1986 interview with a Canadian newscaster who grills Lynch on his film—albeit in the nicest-sounding way possible. The tone is pretty amicable (she is Canadian, after all, thus physically incapable of saying anything in a non-chipper tone); the interviewer just really seems to want to understand why this man would make a film that has such a power to unsettle. Lynch does his best to explain why he did what he did and what the film is all aboot.

(Sorry aboot all the Canadian jokes. For reals, I love you guys. Aboot.)

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Better Call Saul

Yes, Breaking Bad is an amazing show that continually pushes the boundaries of what is possible in televised drama. In the short time that I've been watching the show, it's already moved up in my rankings as one of my five favorite shows of all time. Aside from all the drama and plotting and whatnot, however, one of the biggest reasons I love this show is that it's giving work again to the brilliant comedian Bob Odenkirk. Here are some great fake commercials starring Odenkirk as Breaking Bad's sleazy lawyer Saul Goodman.

Monday, October 3, 2011

Three on a Meathook (1973)

dir. William Girdler

Before getting into anything, I just wanna state that Three on a Meathook is the fourth William Girdler movie (after Grizzly, Day of the Animals, and The Manitou) I've reviewed on this site. I've never reviewed as many movies by any other filmmaker. How did this happen? Though not inept, Girdler was, nevertheless, a generally run-of-the-mill exploitation director—no one to write home about. I guess it's really just happenstance that I ended up here. Grizzly and Day of the Animals catered to my love of killer-animal movies; The Manitou is batshit enough to deserve its own cult (and I mean there should be an actual cult based on this movie); and now Three on a Meathook...well, to be honest, I've got no justification for spilling ink on this unremarkable Psycho knock-off. Who knows, maybe I just decided that I'd like to examine Girdler's entire catalog. And seeing as he's only directed nine features, I'm almost halfway there anyway. Let's do this. Why not.

[Actually, the fact that Girdler is a total badass in this photo, completely justifies my apparent obsession with the man's work.]

If Psycho didn't exist, Three on a Meathook would be a revolutionary little film. But Psycho does exist. And so does Three on a Meathook. And Psycho came first. And Three on a Meathook didn't. 'Nuff said.

In one of many instances of Girdler following Psycho's lead, he throws us for a loop by killing the apparent protagonist before the movie is a third of the way through.

Open on: A nude woman tells her boyfriend that she and the gals are going boating over the weekend.

Cut to: That weekend, woman and three gal pals go boating and skinny dipping.

(As we all know, and as Cinemax has taught us so well, when women get together to hang out, it is an epic struggle they face to keep from disrobing in front of each other.

“Hey, I forgot what everyone’s breasts looked like.”

“Well, why aren't we showing each other?”)

Cut to: Women go to car; car doesn't start. Kindly young farm hand Billy offers the women a chance to stay at his father's house where he totally promises the women will not get killed.

And then all four women get killed. Oh I see what you did there, movie; you gave us characters we thought would be central to the plot, and then you up and went and killed them off. That's really nov— no, wait, Psycho did that.

Anywho, the next day Billy's father yells at the young man for killing yet another group of guests. Billy's father is just glad Billy's mother isn't alive to witness this. Though Billy doesn't remember killing anyone, he nevertheless takes his father's word for it, and heads to the city to get hammered and forget about it all. While there, he befriends kindly bartender Sherry, stays the night at her place and then spends a lovely, soft-focus, frolicking-through-fields, filled-with-romantic-music day with her the next day.


Girdler, as you can see, reveals his hand too early. If it isn't obvious to the audience already that Billy's father, and not Billy, is the killer; then the middle third should relieve any doubt. But there's the problem. In the film's finale, it is clearly meant to be a big surprise that Billy is not the killer. This means that Girdler wants us to believe that Billy is a coldblooded killer for most of the movie. And yet Girdler also puts the supposed killer in an unambiguously romantic courtship scene. I don't think Girdler realized how fucked up this was. This would be like John Carpenter pausing Halloween halfway through for a celebratory scene in which Michael Myers experiences his first kiss. It would be that fucked up.

Seriously, I can't stress enough how out-of-nowhere these courtship scenes are. It is almost as if they were taken from a different movie Girdler was filming concurrently but lost funding for, so decided to stick in the middle of this movie.

Anyway, after all that courtship stuff, Billy invites Sherry and her friend Becky to his father's place. After arriving at the place the two gals have some alone time and some girl talk. Becky asks Sherry if she thinks Billy (you know, the man she met a day ago) is the one, her true love. This, as it turns out, is just an excuse for Becky to get in a long, rambling dialogue with herself. In a great stab at pseudo-profundity/vague topicality, Girdler gives Becky a long monologue in which she remembers her first true love. The speech runs quite long, but here's the capper:

"...that night I sneaked away from camp and we had our first date. Then a month later we were married. Oh that was a wonderful summer. Each hour was a day in heaven. Then they sent him an invitation…to die in one of their wars; then they sent me a telegram that he had. But they were only half right—I died too. Take all the happiness you can. At best, life’s a short ride. And it isn’t always round trip."*

And then Billy's father kills her.

Sure enough, as was obvious all along, we find out in a dramatic plot-twist reveal that Billy's not actually the killer. It also turns out that Billy's mother didn't die those years prior; Billy's father—after discovering her love of cannibalism—hid her in the basement, told Billy that she died, and then killed random women to feed to her, meanwhile convincing Billy that he was the killer of those random women.

And now, of all the scenes he could have opted not to co-opt from Psycho, Girdler decided to recreate the weakest section of Hitchcock's picture: A medical professional explains the father's motivations for the murders:

"Well, I hardly know where to begin. I do know that we must not blame this man. Billy, your father was motivated by love...for your mother. But your mother was ill, terribly ill. And when he learned that the nature of her illness was cannibalistic, well, he should have had her institutionalized. Instead, he thought only of protecting her, by keeping everyone from knowing the nature of her illness—especially you, Billy."**

Well that seems pretty reason— wait, wa— what the fuck. Chrisity Christ fuck. No, not ok. Yes, you can blame this man. "Hey, Billy, it's ok that your father killed all those women and—let's not forget—destroyed any chance you had of leading a normal life after convincing you that you were a psycopath responsible for those murders. Yes, Billy, it's all ok because he did it because he loved your cannibal mother." What the fuck was wrong with doctors back in the day?

But, anyway, no, that's not even the topper. You see, while listening to the doctor give his spiel, Billy is comforted by Sherry, the woman who's known Billy for all of two days and whose best friend was just killed by Billy's father. Instead of, you know, sobbing somewhere or plotting revenge, Sherry has decided to give moral support to the acquaintance whose father killed her best friend, and whose mother ate the remains. Jesus Christ. Not that she should blame Billy, of course, but, realistically, this is the last place she'd want to be.

Perhaps I've been a little unfair to this movie. Honestly, theft from Psycho and numerous flaws aside, Girdler's film is somewhat of a precursor to Tobe Hooper's Texas Chainsaw Massacre. You gotta give it some credit for that. Then again, all three flicks are based—to varying degrees—on real-life monster Ed Gein; so similarities are bound to abound. So no, you don't gotta give Three on a Meathook credit for anything.

*(I wanted to put this in a block quote, but I was having trouble doing it for some reason.)

**(Again, sorry about my inability to block-quote. I have brought shame to my site.)

Dave's Rating: