In belated dishonor of my birthday, a gift for you goober gobbling cretins, a review for the classic 80's stalk and slash HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
In belated dishonor of my birthday, a gift for you goober gobbling cretins, a review for the classic 80's stalk and slash HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 7:13 AM
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Soon enough Ricky is ESP broadcasting his holiday hang-ups to anybody willing to tune in, and tune in someone does. A blind chick with natural psychic abilities gets a full facial of Ricky’s heebie jeebies, a psychic link is made, and Ricky wakes up from his comatose on Christmas Eve in time to kill off a drunken Santa by his hospital bed.
Someone keeps pumping the brakes on this movie. The trash train begins rolling, Ricky begins to methodically make his way to the blind chick’s grandma’s house, people take cat naps, there’s some mildly amusing banter about car phones, some mildly amusing if not sappy brother/sister dialogue, and some mildly amusing shots of a guy with his brain in a plastic container hitch hiking and killing folks, but it’s all kind of vanilla. Someone pass the Dr. Pepper, this Christmas party needs a jolt! Even when people die they don’t look as surprised as they are relieved that something exciting happened to them. If the first entry was an all out dash for sleaze greatness this was the puttering sleepwalk through the finish line. It’s nothing to hoot about, then again it does have a killer with a brain dome, a blind psychic that spends all her time listening to The Terror on television, Canadian tuxedos, and actresses that look too much alike, so it’s worth giving a spin on a lazy Sunday, especially if you’re a fan of the first couple entries. On a Christmas pastry scale, this ranks somewhere next to fruit cake.
I’ve watched this film twice and still haven’t really figured it out. It begins with a women spontaneously combusting from the waist down and throwing herself off of a building. Not bad. A female reporter who feels like she is being discriminated against in her office and home because of her gender and because of her Jewishness investigates the scene of the combustible woman. So far we’re on track. She runs into Clint Howard who shows her a giant insect larvae, then runs into a book store where an older woman comes on to her like a raging softball playing bull dyke and feeds her dried up dates. I’m getting dizzy. She picks up a book about magic from the book store and begins seeing cockroaches and spirals in her kitchen condiments. My head feels light. She goes out for a picnic with the book store owner and her pals and begins hallucinating about even more insects and spirals. My brain begins eating itself. She learns she is being recruited into a witch coven that wishes to free her from her worse fears, which would result in her being free of the male patriarchal order, but first she needs to ingest and puke up a giant cockroach, get fucked by Clint Howard’s dildo helmet, roll around a slimy meat locker while changing into a larvae creature, or suffer a fiery spontaneous body explosion from the waist down. Blood erupts from my ear drums in a crimson waterfall. This is either one of the most brilliant pieces of cinematic trash the world has ever seen or an exercise in completely senseless befuddlement. I can’t decide, my brain is still in a sloppy puddle of gray goo at my feet.
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 8:09 AM
Monday, December 5, 2011
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Hope everyone is gobbling up lots of guts this crisp cool Turkey Day!
Time for some suds and BLOOD RAGE!
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 6:41 AM
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
CREEPY-TEES has done well for slasher themed tees. On any given day you could probably catch me covering up my thorax with a fine cotton shirt from these fine chaps. Check out their preview of these two upcoming slasher shirts from the company (still waiting on my Friday the 13th part 2 shirt fellas!!!):
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 6:28 AM
Monday, November 14, 2011
For the fanzine I was going to include a slasher calendar, featuring a mini-calendar indicating when slasher films were supposed to take place, but alas my lazy ass forgot to do it. The idea is that if you want to watch a slasher on the day it was supposed to happen, like watching Halloween on Halloween, then you'd refer to the handy dandy calendar here. I will post updates to the list as I run across them and then over them like roadkill.
April Fools Day 4/1
Christmas Evil 12/25
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 2:12 PM
Friday, November 11, 2011
Happy Veteran's day. If you're like any true red-blooded vet you are probably doing what most vets like myself are doing right now...working! But when you get home from work, put THE PROWLER in...follow it up with some UNCLE SAM...order a meat lovers pizza, crack a beer, and let the ghoul times roll!
This is a message brought to you by your pals at CROPSYS CRYPT. Now get outta here ya punks!
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 12:07 PM
Thursday, November 10, 2011
You walk into a dank saloon, frothing at the mouth for a night cap to warm the old engine. Your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness; nondescript wooden keg barrels line the back of the bar, surely housing amber beer swill. Patrons shack up in corners of the lodge, speaking in muffled tones as wisps of heavy smoke dances in the empty spaces, clinging jealously to anything that gives movement. The stout bartender, movement slowed to a crawl from the burden of years of punctual tavern keeping, advertises his intention of pouring you a nice tall tankard of Ole English White. You refuse. Tonight your jowls will feel the tingle of scotch. He pours you your drink, you find a seat in a finely crafted leather bound chair, and let the liquor wash between the teeth and engage the senses. After a few short swigs your disposition falls in line with the ambience of the pub. Although you are not accustomed to ease dropping, your hearing quickly hones into a conversation happening behind you; two rather stuffy English fellows of the academic sort:
Cheeky fellow 1 (while huffing smoke from a pipe): Good sir, let me propose an idea if you may.
Cheeky fellow 2: Please propose you cheeky bastard. I haven’t all night.
Cheeky fellow 1: Let’s weave a tale, right here and now, of a man, a bee keeping man, who plans on ruling an island.
Cheeky fellow 2: What’s on this island, and why does he scheme to rule it so?
Cheeky fellow 1: Wouldn’t you like to own an island my good man? Is it not a man’s desire to be a land baron of some sort?
Cheeky fellow 2: Why yes, I think I see your point, having an entire island all to yourself would be quite splendid, but why the insect taming? Does this man have a sweet tooth? Is he addicted to honey?
Cheeky fellow 1: No…he….urgghh…has a shelf full of bees…..hates his nagging wife….beautiful buxom…old farm…..groovy beats…mysteries..useless juxtapositioning.....my god man what concoction is this (staring at his glass)….never mind my ranting and raving, I’m plumb drunk sir.
Cheeky fellow 2: Well cheerio.
Cheeky fellow 1: Cheerio….(blearghhhhh)….
And that is how Deadly Bees should have stayed; a fevered dream of a plumb drunk chap. But no, I had to suffer through it anyways, and let me tell you, the best shot of the movie is of flies glued to someone’s face. Actually, you could really forgo even seeing this film and have a bushel more of fun by gluing flies to your own face and staring at yourself in the mirror for two hours. Get drunk beforehand. It’s pure, clean, retro-fun, and it won't bore you into miserable tears.
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 10:37 AM
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
I love me some ROCKTOBER BLOOD! I've got "rainbow eyes", and you will too with the new CROPSYS CRYPT: The Revenge...uber fanzine for slash-heads and night stalker maniacs.
Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org for a copy. 5 bucks for 2 fanzines, a barf bag, and other fun!
Best heavy metal slasher evar!
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 12:01 PM
Friday, October 28, 2011
Preview of the cover and the ass end of the new rag:
Slithering out of the printing press on HALLOWEEN! You've been warned!
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 9:29 AM
Friday, October 21, 2011
Then Shriek of the Mutilated came and revived my sense of purpose. This was the dreg that made watching basement produced flicks so much fun. This was the forbidden cream filling of the cinematic Twinkie. This was the b-vitamin booster I needed. Fuck yeah, someone threw a surprise pizza party in my mind; pin the tail on the donkey and all that jazz. How have I gone so long without finding you Shriek of the Mutilated? Will you bear my babies? Will you be my cock sheath?
What’s that? You’ve heard the buildup, now you want to know what this gem is actually about? Well, I’ve got two words for you….bigfoot….sneakers. You want to know more? Ok; there’s a search for yeti, there’s college “kids” (ie thirty somethings we are supposed to believe are kids), there’s rampant racism surrounding native Americans, there’s a bald man in khakis sporting a pony tail, gore, scuzziness, hysteria, twists, turns, thrills, chills, spills…I’m spent. Every moment I was enthralled. Boring? I think not mon frer. This is the finest trash served on a silver plate, smothered in gravy, begging consumption. There’s so much I can comment on, but I won’t, and not because I’m lazy (which I am), but because spoiling the fun of it would be a sin. You’ve got to sit through it yourself. You’ve got to experience Shriek of the Mutilated on your own. Explaining why it’s fun would be like explaining why a water slide is a hoot, or why Chucky Cheese ball pits are always a holler (or were). I’ve given you enough….bigfoot….sneakers…..keep the remote ready, fingers poised over rewind……..
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 12:24 PM
Razorback is essentially Australian for Jaws; a giant, dangerous, irrational creature that attacks humans on site with little or no motivation for doing so, all the while obscured by the theatrics of fog, light, and perspective. By no means a bad movie, and by no means a great one either; while the photography in this film is beautiful and oftentimes haunting the pacing is more erratic than a shithouse rat. More than once I found myself questioning motivation or felt rather jilted by the sudden change in scene and dialogue. It may have worked great for the director while firing off music videos but it makes for a somewhat unsettling movie going experience, not to mention a killer headache.
What Razorback lacks in ambience it makes up for in pure visual storytelling. There were several pieces in the film that had a haunting dreamlike quality to them, where reality and fantasy blending and coalesced into something that seemed completely out of place for a film about a giant roaming menace on trotters. In a matter of fact the threat of the giant beast pig seemed secondary to everything else happening on screen. We hardly see the aforementioned animal as most of the plot dances around the plight of several revolving characters, but never long enough to get a clear idea of their moral grounding or motivation. The thick Australian accent and rapid fire line reading did little to help either. The scenes that worked the best for me were those completely devoid of dialogue, as they managed to build some tension, but for the most part the film seemed very touch and go, trying to fit as many scenes as possible to keep the story moving within its two hour timeframe.
If some of the set pieces and dreamlike visual were the main attraction to the film then the offbeat redneck twins Benny and Dicko were the secondary pull for me. Their erratic behavior and junkyard dog mentality livened the proceedings of the film up a bit and provided much more of an anchor of despicability than the main monster did. For all intents and purposes they seemed to be the main villains of the movie, often crashing through scenes with crazy abandon and a punk-like anti-social attitude that would make most “normal” people more scared to transverse the outback than any pissed off hog would. Even their surroundings provided some of the cooler visuals of the movie; like the steamy, hostile meat packing plant and their makeshift underground lair. Needless to say I’d love to share a six pack of Fosters with these nut jobs while hunting down some kangaroos on safari. I’ve got good money that says they’d love listening to a bout of Whiplash and Vomitor.
All in all Razorback makes for an enjoyable ride. Monster romps don’t need too much flair to keep them pumping along and this flick has enough eccentricities to keep me coming back, even though I could of used more B-rated flavor like heavy doses of gore, boobs, and bad words to make the time pass this gets an easy ride for being so damn serious about the subject matter without transversing too far into the land of hokey (even though I’d have to say that my favorite scene was a humorous piece were one guy gets his living room ripped in half by the giant pig). Plus all those cool Australian backwoods locales make for an interesting sit through, so crack open some piss warm beer and lay on back. It’s fat berserker boar time!
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 5:26 AM
Thursday, October 20, 2011
This movie is essentially The Hills Have Eyes meets the rock group Rat in the snow, and in the dark. Well, mostly in the dark. Half of the movie I couldn't tell who was who (they just list the actor's names for the credits, which is kind of weird by itself because apparently there is some person out there named Zim Zam…no shiting you), where they were in relation to each other, and well, anything really. People drop off and nobody seems to notice in the film and in the audience. This movie made me feel like I was high on speed, coke, tripping on acid, and huffing paint at the same time without actually doing any drugs at all. It's THAT disorienting. I had to self administer a breathalyzer to make sure I wasn't drunk, even though I hadn't had a beer all week.
I can tell you that it features the band Easy Action. They even perform the theme song for the movie on the side of a mountaintop. There are scenes that look like they were shot in the bottom of a sewage tank. There are dirty inbreeds that just want be left alone to live in their septic tank sanctuary (which is a huge step up for them considered they used to live in a closet with a single tea cup being their ONLY possession). Easy Action steps on their filthy toes by making that new fangled rock music so close to their home. Dozens of people die from traps laid by the family, but you're not sure exactly how some of the traps actually worked because my screen was dark, and because some questionable artistic choices meant that the sides of the screen got cut off at parts. An avalanche displaces a bunny rabbit. It's really as simple as that....sprinkled with a lot of boozing and drugs, but what'd you expect when people are rolling hard with arm tassels and string bikinis in the middle of the Arctic Circle?
This movie does make up for its shortfalls with tons and tons of Velveeta. Blows that look like they'd result in minor wounds end up being geysers of blood. Drugs and rock and roll must make skin vessels really fragile and susceptible to rupturing. And there is no lack of skin and laughable bad dialogue, but sadly enough, no tracks of blood that I can remember. Maybe it's the imaginary drugs clogging my memory. The theme song was right, damn it all. I'm in the danger zone!
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 10:34 AM
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Hawker's such a fiery ball of rage and hatred that he has to carry a black stress ball around with him every where he goes. He even sweeps the floor with a zamboni in a manner that just conveys that he's seriously pissed off. If you could bottle all that hatred and stick it into a rocket ship it'd fly to Jupiter and back and still have fuel in reserve. He's so mad in this movie that he focuses most of his time on stalking TWO main characters, which crazy for a slasher film. The main baddy usually has his hands full just focusing on one target, but not Hawk Colter...oh no...he picks two because he overheard a nurse referring to him as a "creep". That's gotta chaff you enough to make it your undying mission to wipe her and her entire family, friends, and pets off the face of the planet!
And what the hell was up with the jewelry thing? He gets naked and covers himself in every piece of jewelry this lady owns and smears makeup all over his face. What a friggin bag of screw boxes. I bet he didn't even know he was being filmed, he showed up to work dressed like that that day at Home Depot or something and the director spotted him and knew he had the perfect man for the role. Not to mention the bell thing on his necklace. You'd think a slasher wouldn't be running around with a bell strapped around his neck. It's be really tough to sneak up on people jingle jangling around. Maybe it's his own personal joke, like he is showing up to slice your throat and he's so psyched out about it he came literally with bells on. What a cracker jack.
William Shatner is in it too, but I'm not sure why. I mean he spends most of the film eating hospital food and looking smug; not that I'm complaining or anything, it's fucking Shatner after all. At one point he's allowed into a fresh crime scene and you can't figure out exactly what the fuck he's doing there. Up to that moment in the film he was being portrayed as some sort of studio director, and last I checked they didn't have first dibs on trying to solve crimes. I guess the detectives were just like "Oh shit, it's Shatner, let him take a crack at this". Fucking Shatner man.
For the people wondering about the plot I'll break it down quick and dirty; it's a film about a lunatic that has a hard on for killing some news anchor/editorialist who's full of moxy and exposes pro-feminist, anti-violence, pro-bunny sentiments, all of which totally piss Ironside off. He freaking HATES bunny rabbits. His first attack on her landed her in a hospital, so never wanting to leave a job unfinished he pursues her from there, and nobody, not the cops, not helpless hospital patients, not annoying schmoes that look like Mario from Super Mario Brothers with huge ass 70's staches, and not even Shatner in all his ice cream slurping glory can stop him. They eventually describe where all his rage comes from, which of course is from some cliche bad childhood trama, but really they could have left it out. The question is sometimes way more exciting than the answer.
For people looking for one of those fluffy "popcorn" horror films this ain't it. There's no tongue in cheek antics, no directorial hyucking, no funny business to be had here; but that's not to say this movie ain't fun to watch.
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 3:48 AM
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Check out Meep's blog; during the month of October he's reviewing a slasher a day. What a bodycount! Tell him Cropys's Cryptkeeper sent you packing from the morgue!
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 9:52 AM
The plot is basically about a company that’s run by complete morons that happened to create some sort of sentient spinal fluid sucking soldier. Every stereotypical megalomaniac is present, plus it’s got every standard bad horror flick character you can possibly imagine. There’s a nosey reporter. There’s a lazy, borderline retarded detective. There’s the woman trying to find revenge for her uncle’s untimely death. There’s a scientist that blows up oranges. It’s got it all, and sure, some of it is entertaining to the lowest denominator of all bad tastes. It’s so dumb it comes around the bend and becomes funny, then becomes dumb, and then becomes painful, then you just don’t give a shit anymore and your mind enters this dumb, lethargic state of blissful ignorance. Maybe the purpose of the film is to transform the audience’s mentality into that of the slow moving, grumbling, stumbling, Synegors on screen by pummeling your mind with one idiotic antic after another.
Unstoppable soldiers these are not; the advertising was greatly exaggerated. The Syngenors are really kind of weak. Their combat tactics include standing there and letting themselves get riddled by bullets until they die, or standing in front of cars and letting themselves get run over, and that’s about it. I’m pretty sure some of them even died off camera, probably from something really lame like high blood pressure or Parkinson’s disease. Their special move is basically just picking people up and throwing them against the wall and they never move faster than say, the speed of smell. The fact that they suck ass is conveyed within the first fifteen minutes of reel time when a flower pot full of water slows one down, melting some of its skin off. Then you realize that water fucks them up., thereby eliminating any kind of threat these things may have posed. God forbid it rains outside and they forgot their umbrellas. The rest of the movie is kind of a loose string of sci-fi and b-movie clichés gone horribly wrong. I could spend a long time talking about all the ways this movie wraps in on itself and implodes, but the art of being this bad really needs to be seen and experienced to truly sink in. I’m afraid if I think about it for too long my brain will become hungry for nourishment and eat itself.
What’s truly amazing about Synegor is its persistence at contradicting and defying its own logic at every turn. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any more derivative or silly something else happens that leaves you feeling like you just got slammed in the brain pan with a megaton of stupid. What is that green shit that the CEO of the company keeps shooting into his neck? Why does everyone insist on parking in the handicap spot when the parking lot is clearly empty and it’s not even the closest spot to the building? How is a company smart enough to develop laser weapons but not smart enough to teach the Syngenors how to use them? Why does everyone keep following the orders of a man that is clearly out of his fruit loops? What happened to the Synegors that escaped right at the beginning of the film? How did the reporter and that chick end up crawling out of the building through a ventilation shaft that was clearly leading them down when they started out in the basement? What did Stan Armbrewster have to do on his Saturday besides eat donuts and become vaporized by a laser beam?
And maybe that’s why I ended up liking this movie; it just doesn’t give a flying fudge how it may hold up to any ounce of critical review. It basks in its own warm glow of dumb and never lets up with the craziness. You can’t gauge what’s going to happen from one moment to the next. It’s wild, untamable; like chimpanzee with Down syndrome and a perchance for tossing shit at anyone that comes close to it. Fuck you Syngenor…..I love you!
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 9:47 AM
Friday, September 30, 2011
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 9:21 AM
Sunday, September 25, 2011
The story takes place in a sleepy fishing community where a big bad corporation is coming in to give everyone jobs at a newly proposed fish hatching plant. A local Native American sees through this ploy, notices the subtle changes in the wildlife, like dead dogs and giant humanoid fish men, so naturally he opposes this plant. There's a lot of conflict between him and a bunch of racist rednecks, leading to wacky black and blue brawls where uppercuts go "bamf" and have the heavy sound of bare knuckle punching raw meat, but that soon takes a backseat to the real issue at hand; mermen are raping their women and by golly they got to do something about it. The cool headed main goody two shoes fisherman and main protagonist Jim, sides with the Indian after he sees some evidence indicating something is amok. They team with a hot body scientist named Dr. Drake (these type of flicks always have a beautiful babe biologist, don't they?), who seems to know a little bit too much about these new creatures. After locating a hive of the humanoids and filling it with buckets of bullets and spear gun darts, they retrieve a fish monster cadaver and one of their recent rape victims, a girl who is still covered in fresh humanoid man spunk. Dr. Drake ends up revealing that the new plant, or cannery, is the source of these creatures, and that they are attracted to big tittied buxoms. Naturally. This sets the stage for the sea men's big offensive push out of the water and on to land at an annual carnival. Chaos ensues, women are taken as sex slaves, men are made into sushi, but eventually the people rally together and repel the onslaught of horny amphibians.
The humanoids are sufficiently slimy, there’s a bodacious boob count, and the gore is on par with slow decapitations, face rips, and torso tears; this has the right mix o' cheese to keep most B-flixsters happy. I love how un-reactive, and stone faced everyone in this film seems to be after discovering what could be the find of a century. It's all dealt with in such a matter of fact manner that it makes me wonder how many times monsters from the ocean venture to this place to inseminate some poor lady, so obviously the acting is pretty much what you'd expect given the type of flick this is. I really dug this slop. Anything that capitalizes on the fear of rape with creatures from the murky depths of the ocean should be checked out at least once.
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 9:33 AM
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 12:51 PM
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 2:17 PM
Monday, September 19, 2011
I don't think that the audience sees these connections right away because at the end of the film you aren't thinking about what Loomis said twenty minutes ago. You're thinking about Laurie and Dr. Loomis getting away and eradicating the threat of the Shape, but when you take the movie in as a whole it makes sense and explains why the writers (or writer John Carpenter), would make up some false explanation of Samhain.
Myers turned his attack on Laurie into an attack on Haddonfield itself. He wanted the police jumping at their own shadows, spreading the police force out thin in a panic, leaving The Shape free to pursue his own dark intentions. Alice's death was a means to an end. He needed the police shaken up enough to start running over their own citizens in patrol vehicles. That sick irony is something Myers thrives on.
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 12:15 PM
As you can probably surmise, this crappy Crypt-keeper is absolutely coo-coo clock for Halloween decor, and after a quick trip to the local curios shop I returned with Captain Spaulding from THE EXORCIST; completely pea soup splattered in all her spinning head glory.
Demon possession is so grand, I can't wait until it becomes the cool thing to do.
Finally got down with some Halloween 2, BOO-ray action. Love the candy coated hi definition color, but am not so happy about the credits switcheroo at the beginning. The crypt space will be filled with Halloween 2 black mass worship all week, so keep peaking here for some gushy Halloween movie love....
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 4:44 AM
Monday, September 12, 2011
Dracula is sick of the game. Yes sick. And the damned creature wants out of it. He's sick of monster hunters separating his coffin lid in the throes of a good midday nap, he's tired of feeding the vampire chicks chained to his coffin, he's sick of humanity mucking it up for him. It's time for the dark days; the all or nothing days. It's time for the apocalypse, the big end game, and with the help of some hypnotized higher up British officials and a brand new strand of the bubonic plague, aka the Black Death, he seems closer to ever to bringing the world to the end, if it weren't for that meddling Van Helsing standing in his way...
Peter Cushing and Christoher Lee mix it up in this classic HAMMER sinema great, and with this being Christopher Lee's last Dracula flick, it makes me wonder if the whole deal about Dracula being tired of living had some other implications, like Mr. Lee was tired of playing the living dead, even though it's a FACT that nobody on Earth can bulge their bloodshot eyes out of their skull in hyno-Dracula trance like he can. There's some political intrigue, actually it wasn't as intriguing as a chore to sit through until the movie got to the classic HAMMER stuff, but I'd recommend it if you're looking for a good vamp flick that doesn't make vampires look like cry baby emo goth kids.
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 3:12 PM
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 3:20 PM
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
What I enjoyed most about the story had nothing to do with the story at all, it was reading into some of Tobe's own inner monologue, dialogue which sometimes caters to nerdgasming slashheads like yours truly, that got my goat and I suspect is the main pull for many people purchasing the book. The characters in the novel are just as eccentric as some of the characters in his quirkier movies (think Eaten Alive) and there’s certainly an effort made to entertain above all else even if the horror is reduced to the slapstick over the top antics of some splatter flicks; tongue planted firmly through the cheek. The mystery surrounding the outbreak kept me going as the clues were evenly spread throughout the book, revelations came to the reader at a satisfying pace, although I pretty much guessed the true catalyst for the outbreak from the onset.
All in all I couldn't recommend this to anyone that isn't a gushing Tobe Hooper fan. The day I read this book I was bed ridden, suffering from a summer plague during a stiffening heat wave, with Lifeforce, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and Eaten Alive playing on the cathode ray throughout the morning and afternoon hours. The only breaks I had were to spill some fluids in the bathroom, either from pissing or puking. Bow to the porcelain goddess. Zombie films seem so much more pertinent when your sick and suffering, but the Tobe Hooper love-fest did little to help elevate the material in the novel and my enjoyment of it. Buy at your own risk. This is a library loaner for sure.
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 8:09 AM
Monday, September 5, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
We're buzzing (with plague carrying fleas) about the new Halloween 2 blu-ray coming out September 13th here in the crypt. The old VHS tape is looking rather dog eared from viewing the movie ritualistically through the 3 decades since it's been unleashed on the human herd, as the film is a template for sugary slasher movie fun and one of Cropsy Cryptkeeper's personal cream of the crap picks.
I'm expecting Bereavement to hit the post box sometime soon, so expect a review to the follow up to Malevolence shortly. I'm hoping it will be just as slashtastic, if not better and darker than the first. Working diligently on soaking up as much slime as possible in the pages of the new fanzine. Thank you everyone who contributed to its evil resolve. Until next time, keep on ROTTING!
Posted by CROPSY'S CRYPTKEEPER at 7:32 AM