You're Next shirt from FRIGHT-RAGS!

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Ogroff the Mad Mutilator

I've found a new obsession.  OGROFF I LOVE YOU!

TCM coming back to theaters!

Texas Chainsaw Massacre is coming back to theaters with a brand new transfer.  Count me interested, even though I feel like that film benefits from the dirt and gristle.  I heard the new restoration keeps the grime but also manages to look better, with better sound to boot.  We shall see mon frers!  No date is set for the release at this time.

Makes me want to chainsaw dance!

Jason's Old Fashoned Deli

I'd go to this deli!

Meanwhile under Camp Blackfoot.....

Tommy’s eyes were blind in the dark, his hands were tied, but his sense of smell was unbound and cataloging his surroundings at frantic animal speed.  What was most pronounced was his own sweat, his damp dirty shirt slogged against his chest as it heaved in the dry air of the underground.  He wafted the thunderous smell of shit; he was sitting in a heap of his own making, and stirred in another desperate attempt to free himself.  Behind him a face pruned from deep scar tissue made its impression of a smile.

Tommy’s breathing hitched and rattled loudly in his ears, he wondered briefly if it was the acoustics of the underground tomb or his own pitched fright.  He tried desperately to turn his head to see his assailant as the creature, the shape of a man thing, adjusted something behind him.  He heard the click of metal, of lubed joints sliding against a frictionless surface, the tiny hiss of hydraulics as a tripod was extended.  A terrifying, single thought exploded in his mind, drowning out all others.  He’s going to torture me, and film it.  He’s going to make a snuff movie out of me.

Tommy could feel his eyes bulge in their sockets, veins popping by the dozen, as a fresh stream of tears rushed down his cheek, clearing a little clean path through the muck and dirt that had stuck to his face.  A whimper escaped from the bloody gag stuffed in his mouth.  In return he heard a dry rasp of a sand paper laugh from behind him, from the creature, from the thing that took him to his foul place. Tommy had already resigned himself to think of it as his grave.  He was old enough to understand the sad story the news told each evening when someone disappeared, even if his mornings were still full of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck.

The creature worked diligently in the dark; it needed little light to see, and even less to feel his way around.  Tommy briefly heard thin plastic flapping like bat wings, a series of switches flipped with clicks, something fitted snuggly in a metal carriage as a metallic clasp rang out in the dust choked air.  His abductor grunted in satisfaction, a harsh toneless sound that gave Tommy goose flesh.

Suddenly the room filled with the deafening roar of an ancient projector firing up, hot angry light spilling from its front lens, a thousand tiny gears spun and sputtered as cross hairs painted the screen in front of Tommy.  He felt like they were pointed at him.  A quick count down backwards from 10 ran on the screen.  Tommy could feel his sanity slip away in the dark with each count.  10…9….8…7…the anticipation was too great, his mind under too much restraint.  He prayed to fall suddenly unconscious.  Oh to drift into slumber only to awake in his own bed, another bad nightmare exorcised in the safety of his bunk bed.  Anything to escape whatever came next.  The axe was falling and he didn’t want to see it.  God help him he couldn’t stand to see it…

And then, with his captor so close to him he could feel his foul hot breath on the back on his neck, the hair standing tall, quivering in the breeze of that rancid mouth; he hears a rumbling whisper so faint it could hardly be heard under the roar of the antique film projector “Let the show begin…”

Final Terror heading to boo-ray

From Blu-ray.com Final Terror coming to Blu Ray

Scream Factory, the horror-thriller offshoot of independent film distributor Shout Factory, has confirmed that it plans to bring to Blu-ray director Andrew Davis' horror film The Final Terror (1983), starring John Friedrich, Adrian Zmed, Ernest Harden Jr., Rachel Ward, Joe Pantoliano, and Daryl Hannah. The release is expected to arrive on the U.S. market later this year.

Synopsis: Three young campers out for what they hope to be a fun-filled weekend find their plans spoiled by a maniacal killer who stalks the forest in search of fresh victims. 

Final Terror

There’s a camp fire story around these parts…an old wives tale really…of a young girl raped out in the deep wilderness by her intolerable, alcoholic uncle…driven insane with guilt….she’s locked away by her own kin…but some ugly secrets have a way of never staying buried for long…..and soon a son is born…..a son that will come back and free her from the asylum…a son that, out of love for his mother, releases her from her prison…sends her back to the forest where it all began…back to Mill Creek…in a vague hope that she’ll find some form of peace amongst the serene wild life…hoping that nobody ever travels there again….that nobody uncovers the secret again….but the horror will return…..and this time nobody will survive the FINAL TERROR!

Gritty survival horror that goes for the throat, or more specifically, Daryl Hannah’s throat; Final Terror is a different treat than most slashers.  Where other horror films play fast and loose with the rules that govern reality Final Terror settles on a more grounded approach to the genre, supposing that, what if a real group of people were stalked in the woods by a single psychotic killer?  How would they react?  How would the killer be able to slip around them undetected?  Final Terror tries to answer these questions in a believable way.  The killer wears a makeshift gilly suit that makes her invisible to the naked eye while entrenched amongst the ferns and moss.  The group of teens and twenty-somethings that find themselves the target of the killer’s murderous attack attempt to blend into the forest by donning camouflage, take turns watching over each other at night, and generally try to stick together and fight back. Most films would have played out in some pseudo-realistic predictable cat and mouse game where the nameless horror victims would prod on through the woods, panicking, separating, and eventually being snuffed off one by one by the killer until one person, one “final girl” remains.  Thankfully this played out scenario isn’t the case here.  Even injuries are dealt with in a more realistic way, typically when someone gets their throat slashed in a horror film they die instantly, with little blood, and little fuss.  In this film, when one of the unfortunate campers gets a grotesque gash in the throat, she doesn’t die right away, the injury bleeds out naturally, and quick medical assistance ends up saving her life.