![]() |
Bloodsongs Issue 3
With D.K.D. Kadavar Seems that a few of you readers don’t believe that Kadavar is me real name. That it is somewhat just a little too appropriate. Shame on you! Why can’t a name be appropriate? I can site many examples where the name fits the job description … almost, like a glove, to taunt yers with a little cliché. Fer instance, many years ago as a young Kadavar, and way before finding fame in this here e-steamed [sic] publication (a bit of arse kissing ne’er ’urts me sez, especially if the arse in question belongs to some nice crumpet), I used to work in the public service. It just so happened that the guy in charge of the department went by the moniker of Dick King –- no shit. And to go back even further to me school daze [sic], in the year before me one of the classes was inhabited by a poor unfortunate with the name George Soukapennis (I jest thee not!). Can you imagine what roll call must have been like? Lucky they didn’t have a Michael Hunt in the same class! And luckier still, ol’ George didn’t have a sister as far as I know –- I mean, shit, the poor girl would’ve been doomed from the outset. Anyway, back to ol’ George: when he got out of high school (which was also around the time he reached the legal age of 18), the first thing on his agenda was a visit to the Deed Poll Office. I won’t tell yers what he calls himself now, since he’s become a shyster and I don’t fancy getting me butt sued. All of which brings me –- you see, all this is leading somewhere! –- to John Dickie, the head honcho at the OFLC (Office of Film and Literature Classification). I mean, let’s face it, with a name like that what else could the guy do? Not that I feel sorry for ’im or anything, after all he could have always followed George’s example, right? Also seems that Mr. Dickie and his cronies at the OFLC weren’t all that impressed with the first issue of this e-steamed publication (more arse kissing). Why? I dunno. Maybe it tore when they tried to use it in the shit house. Perhaps it didn’t taste too good. Anyways, after having a good look at Issue 1, they declared it unfit for kiddies and slapped it on the wrist with a Category 1, so that those in the population under the age of 18 would be “protected” from it, and shops could only display it in sealed bags. Like, shit, it might get out and bite some fucker! Run for the hills, there’s a horror magazine depicting sex and violence in the same paragraph on the loose! Shit, you think with all those snuff movies, terrorist instruction videos, and King James bibles (now there’s a piece of brain-washing if yer ask me) being constantly smuggled into the country they’d have enough to do. But no no no, they gotta go and do their darndest to stop our local horror industry from getting anywhere. Thanks a lot guys! Rant over, and onto the column proper. Tucked deep away in those Sci-Fry or Horror shelves -- most likely amongst the vids placed spine to spine on the bottom shelf –- you may be lucky enough to find a little gem called The Hidden. Made around 1987 and directed by Jack Sholder (now there’s someone that should have been a chiropractor!) and written by Bob Hunt, this is a film about a couple of aliens and what they do when they arrive in LA. Seems that various citizens, namely yer average beancounter/clerk type who have no record of criminal activity at all, are going apeshit. All of a sudden someone decides to go on an all out rampage of listening to heavy metal and stealing Ferraris, not to mention killing anyone and everyone who tries to stop them from having a good time, which in this case involves driving really fast with the stereo pumped up to the max and running over the citizens. Now enter into this yer average cliché cop-with-an-attitude (Michael Nouri), who just don’t really know what’s going on. After catching our maniac and putting enough slugs in him to kill a brontosaurus, he thinks it’s over. Not so! While said maniac is dying in hospital, this evil alien critter, that looks a bit l ike a giant slug who’s been fed too many steroids, exits from via his mouth, and enters into (via the mouth) of the unconscious dude in the bed next to him. Now, this guy, after having just suffered a major coronary, gets up and goes on a similar rampage. And Nouri is at his dick’s end about what to do, when into the scene one baby-face nerd FBI agent, Kyle “Twin Peaks” MacLaughlin, who is assigned as Nouri’s partner, and who seems to have landed from another planet … literally. After the initial “friction between new partners from different departments”, then the perennial “bonding” scenario, Nouri learns that some nasty little critter from outer space (an Alterian!?) is on the loose and (you guessed it) only MacLaughlin (who’s a good alien) has the means to stop it. Fer some reason this slug-critter is only vulnerable when “between bodies” and can only be killed by this silly-looking silver ray gun in MacLaughlin’s possession. Anyways, nuff said about the plot. [That’s for sure! –- ed][What da fuck is an “ed”? –- Kadavar] The Hidden despite the over-the-top and totally unbelievable plot really kicks arse. The direction is tight and stylish, and all of the cast play it straight down the line. Here you’ll get heaps of action, things getting blown up, people being shot, gratuitous nudity, and lots of slug-ramming-itself-down-the-victim’s-throat scenes. Recommended. Next on the list is a video nasty called Body Parts which was made around 1991 and is directed by Eric Reid. Here we have an over-the-top horror/medico thriller about criminal psychologist (Jeff Fahey) who after losing his right arm in a car accident, gets a new one transplanted, which a la Hands of Orlac came from a psychotic killer just executed. Initially all goes well with the transplant, and Fahey is just starting to get used to his new arm, when (plot twist!) he starts having strange dreams/visions and the arm starts to take on a life of its own. Not to mention the fact that the former owner of the arm has risen to collect his lost limbs (most of which have been removed and as transplant organs) from their new owners. Despite the tacky/medico subject matter, this film is better than what you might think when you read the blurb on the jacket. There’s some great touches here, the direction is slick and the acting believable. Also some nice scenes involving a loony killer driving around with a severed arm on his dashboard and a hospital room full of writhing, living body parts, not to mention yer loony doctor and psychic killer after his own body parts. What else can you ask for? Now onto our last nasty for this column: Prince of Darkness (1987) is one of John Carpenter’s lesser known efforts, and also one of his better ones, which he also wrote under the pseudonym of Martin Quatermass (no doubt a reference and tip of the ol’ hat to the classic British Sci-Fry series of the mid/late 1950s). Here we have an old (apparently) abandoned church situated somewhere in LA, under which lurk a maze of hidden tunnels and passages, kept secret fro the last few hundred years, by a mysterious and secretive Catholic sect known as the Brotherhood of Sleep, whose job it is to keep some sinister secret and to act as keepers of one mysterious canister and coded manuscript that predates the Old Testament. When the last of their sect dies, another priest (Donald Pleasance) is called in to help out. Only there’s some strange shit happening: the canister, which has remained dormant for thousands (maybe millions) of years is beginning to open, so Pleasance calls in the services of a friend who’s a physics professor (Victor Wong) to help out, and to prove “scientifically” something or other. Next thing, a bunch of scientist- types arrive at the old church and begin setting up all sorts of equipment, and start deciphering the old manuscript, which turns out to be an alternate bible (or anti-bible), telling the story of “Anti-God” and how his son, Satan, is entombed in the canister, and who will one day emerge to bring forth his “Father” from the “Outside” (shades of Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos here). Next thing yer know the canister is spewing this gravity-defying green liquid that forms a pool on the ceiling of the cavern/cellar, only to occasionally “possess” the odd spectator. The tension slowly builds as the stage is set up for the final confrontation between good and evil, and also how each of the scientists deals with having their material view of the universe shattered. But what makes Prince of Darkness stand out is the sense of foreboding and dread that hits you from the first frame and slowly builds up right to the end of the film. Not to mention some nice scenes featuring an assortment of bugs and worms, weird psychic transmissions from the future, and a bunch of spaced out street-bums/whinos/bag-ladies, headed by a very sinister-looking Alice Cooper. If you haven’t seen Prince of Darkness, make it the next on yer list of vids to hire. |
_________________________________________________________ |
|
All material on this site is Copyright 2007 to Chris A. Masters
|