Ron Kovacs plays seventies and eighties tracks from 6 -11pm on RadioMaxMusic.  Have a request, go the RadioMax home page at radiomaxmusic.com and click the request  link.

A petición popular (dos personas y yo mismo) reincido en el universo “Hammer Films”  tratando además de dar cierta coherencia interna a las tres entradas, interconectando “Sangre sobre la tumba de la momia” como exponente del estilo más explícito en todos lo órdenes que se impondría en esta década, con los títulos sobre el Barón de Fisher. De tal modo este “El horror de Frankestein” aparece como una pieza perfecta para explicar esta nueva “Hammer”, es un ”remake” del fundacional “La maldición de Frankestein” de 1957 en el que se trata, del mismo modo que se hace en la gran mayoría de las cintas setenteras de la productora, de llevar a los mitos a una segunda modernidad, es decir, mientra los films originales eran el resultado de  la modernización de la mítica del terror que había impuesto la “Universal” estos segundos son el siguiente paso, la “Hammer” vista por la “Hammer”, en un ejercicio revisionista que implica autoconsciencia (eran ya una marca, una manera de hacer) y necesidad de reinventarse para avanzar con el mercado.

Además la película resulta ser el primer trabajo a la dirección del excepcional guionista Jimmy Sangster, que fue pieza fundamental en esplendor de “la casa del terror” durante la década anterior y encargado ahora de su puesta al día. Sangster  reincidiría en la dirección otro par de cintas, también con el gran Ralph Bates, “Lust for a vampire”(1971) que se regodea en el erotismo sáfico en salto de cama que había originado la notable “The vampire lovers”(1970)  y “Miedo en la noche”(1971)  que retoma tardíamente el terror/suspense psicológico que el mismo Sangster inauguró en la estupenda “El sabor del miedo”(1961) dirigida por el prematuramente fallecido y muy talentoso Seth Holt.

El horror de Frankenstein (The horror of Frankenstein)

Director: Jimmy Sangster

Año: 1970

País: Gran Bretaña

95 min.

Fotografía: Moray Grant

Música: Malcolm Williamson

Guión: Jimmy Sangster y Jeremy Burnham

Reparto: Ralph Bates, Kate O’Mara, Veronica Carlson, Dennis Price, Jon Finch

La película nace con esa voluntad ya explicada de revisitación de la seminal “La maldición de Frankenstein” adaptándolo a esta nueva “Hammer” (re)naciente de los setenta que abandonaba el suntuoso goticismo y la perversidad estilizada en beneficio de un estilo visual más mortecino y menos colorista, una explicitación agresiva de las constantes erótico-sanguinolentas de la productora y un humor negro bien apreciable que supone el punto de mayor interés y distinción de la película, convirtiendo el horro en comedia grotesca. La película se resiente de una estética coyuntural y de un feísmo un tanto vulgar (aunque no faltan los aciertos, como el Barón mirando a sus compañeros y viendo los órganos que le hacen falta) pero a cambio ofrece una virulencia asombrosa en la presentación del protagonista al que Ralph Bates presta su inigualable genio, creando una personaje totalmente diferente al de Cushing, un enfoque casi de choque generacional (algo en lo que se reincidiría en la época, por ejemplo “El poder de la sangre de Drácula” que dirigió también en 1970 el interesante Peter Sasdy, al que traeré de paseo), un joven egoísta, un “angry young men” convencido de su absoluta superioridad en todos los ámbitos, desde el intelectual al moral , pasando claro por el amatorio, magnético y falto de cualquier escrúpulo, cuya maldad e indiferencia a todo lo que no sea el mismo no parece conocer límites, desafiante con la autoridad y sexualmente depredador y que se debate en el clásico dilema entre la rubia angelical, la maravillosa Veronica Carlson, y la morena viciosa, Kate O’Mara y sus irresistibles ojos que acaban siendo merendola sexy para el monstruo de turno (al que interpreta David “Darth Vader” Prowse) en una escena especialmente despiadada, que ya es decir.

Un diletante de la maldad, aristócrata hedonista y cruel que usará a la criatura con total sangre fría, un bicharraco fascinante al que la pose y el rictus de asco y desprecio universal de Bates mezclado con su evidente chispa de ingenio maléfico sienta como un traje a medida.

El resultado es un film que merece bastante mayor crédito del que habitualmente se le concede y que sin ser uno de los títulos cumbre de la “Hammer” de los 70, si presenta no poca originalidad en su insistente cinismo y en esa oscura comicidad (antológico el final con la niña), dejando por el camino buenos destellos de puesta en escena y además reservando un bienvenido papelillo para el singular (y “franquiano”) Dennis Price como extravagante ladrón y comerciante de cadáveres al por menor.

It’s Black Friday, and I’m down with the flu so I took a little break from writing. It’s going good, by the way. Even with my stuffy nose my muse still sticks around so I really have no reason to complain.

I saw a movie the other day, it’s been out a while but since it’s indie, it was quite hard to get and I could only watch it online since I could never find it in my favorite DVD store.

The movie is called “Control” and it’s about the life (and death) of Ian Curtis, lead vocalist of the band Joy Division, directed by Dutch director Anton Corbijn. Control marked Corbijn’s debut as movie director (he was mostly known as music video director and photographer) and it was reported that he paid half of the € 4.5 million budget out of his own pocket.

Singer/model/actor Sam Riley (mostly known for being the face of the Burberry ad campaign) played legendary Ian Curtis, and he was phenomenal in his performance.

What’s more amazing about Sam Riley’s performance in the movie is that he had to sing all the Joy Division songs himself and not just lip-sync to the voice of the real Ian Curtis. And he sounded exactly like Ian Curtis, it was pretty unreal.

The movie is written by Matt Greenhalg based on Deborah Curtis’ (Ian’s widow) book “Touching From A Distance” and it started just before Ian met her in 1973 until his death on May 18, 1980. It detailed his journey, from his marriage to Debbie (when they were both in their late teens), to the forming of Joy Division, to the band’s success and his untimely death.

The movie also detailed his struggle with epilepsy, his rocky marriage and his extramarital affairs with a Belgian music journalist Annik Honore.

I love this movie because it really showed the inner struggle of the legendary Ian Curtis, his demons, his depression, his fears and his internal conflicts. His relationships with the two women in his life; Debbie and Annik were also approached in a beautiful way – that you don’t see him as this lying, cheating “rock star” but as a frail, confused and torn human being instead.

After a tired day of shopping, I recommend you getting this movie and just curl up on the couch being completely amazed by Sam Riley’s talents and the incredible vision of Anton Corbijn, especially if you’re a Joy Division fan like me. This is one movie that would remain as a cult classic, in my opinion.

Also, don’t be surprised with the fact that the whole movie is shot entirely in black and white. I think, aside from capturing the feel of the era, it also successfully captured the dark and tormented soul of one Ian Curtis – and you’re left with this haunting feeling hours after you’ve seen it.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

xoxo

Binky Bee

Brother Al Green. You know the name and you’d surely remember hits like “L-O-V-E”, “Let’s Stay Together”, and “How Do You Mend A Broken Heart”. Those were huge 70’s smashes and core threads in the soundtrack of many of our lives. But you can’t hold singer and pastor Al Green to the children of the 70’s. My kids love him, parents love him…..His is one of the most unique soulful voices ever. Period !

This You Tube clip of of a recent song called “Lay It Down” and shows Al hasn’t lost any chops. Take a little trip down memory lane or discover Al Green for the first time. He is one of the most naturally soulful dudes ever. Enjoy !

“Save The Unborn Child”

This is one of my favorites! 60 minutes of anti-abortion speeches by fathers, priests and professors.

There’s no year on the record but it’s most likely from around 1972. In the early seventies the Dutch politics started talking about a new abortion law which triggered a wave of protests and anti-abortion groups were formed. This record is initiated by a religious association lead by a christian priest who named themselves “Save The Unborn Child”

I’ll try to translate the cover text in my best english so you can catch the mood of the record

Only peace by justice,
A future for everyone by love and mercy,
We convert ourselves,
One way: Jesus
All human life is of irreplaceable value,
Nobody has the right to decide
over life or death of a fellow human being.
One exception in the legal protection
of life itself discloses everything.
Abortion is murder.

Enjoy these wonderful short clips:

And here you can get the whole sixty minutes (48mb).

Probably about as much as Snoopy and Thanksgiving.

I must say though, I am thoroughly enjoying this new tradition of Star Trek and pumpkin pie on Turkey Day.

When I was a kid, I used to love for Thanksgiving and Christmas to come around so I could sit in front of my 16″ black and white TV (without cable) and watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. I loved the airing of this program because I knew after that it was a short countdown to Christmas, which meant Christmas trees, candy canes, sugar cookies, and PRESENTS!

I used to keep time around Christmas using the network television shows. Charlie Brown was the first to arrive at Thanksgiving, after that came  Frosty, Rudolph, and the Grinch. I spent many an hour in front of the television wrapped in my snuggie drinking hot chocolate watching my shows.

(For the overseas folks who may not have access to the yearly programs, here are some links where you can see them online!)

1. It’s a Wonderful Life (click to watch)

2. A Charlie Brown Christmas (click to watch)

3. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (click to watch)

4. How the Grinch Stole Christmas (click to watch)

5. Santa Claus is Coming to Town (click to watch)

6. Frosty the Snowman (click to watch)

Typically Frosty or Rudolph were the last to air, and once they showed then I knew Christmas was within days! 

To this day, all of those shows remind me of my childhood in front of that wee-tv and I find myself smiling.

Two years ago my family began a new tradition. On Christmas night, after all of the presents have been opened, the dogs put to bed, and the food resting-not-so-comfortably in our stuffed tummies, we watch A Christmas Story.

Typically we will sit giggling raucously to quotes such as:

“I double-dog dare you!”

“You’ll shoot your eye out!”

“Fra-gee-lay”

“I want an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!”

Last year John drove over five-and-a-half hours to join us for the movie. He laughed as hard as we did so I knew he’d fit in great with the family.

And this year, John has brought us Star Trek.

Last Thanksgiving, I did not even know John yet. This Thanksgiving, he has become a part of setting new traditions in the family…well, maybe. 

So what do Star Trek (2009 of course) and Thanksgiving have in common?

Nothing really, other than the potential of a new family tradition – thanks to my Gumpee.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Un (otro) vistazo al cine del Este (aunque el cine checo sea puramente centroeropeo, tomarér Este por “bloque”) en su versión menos reconcentrada, sesuda, “festivalera” (recordar que en los 60 y 70 el cine del telón de acero, mano a mano con lo nórdico y las cinematografías de America latina, estas un tanto más descolgadas con sus “cines nuevos”, ocupaban el sitio de iraníes, orientales en general y cuanto más ignotos mejor o nuevamente los “cines nuevos” de América latina en el panorama más o menos contemporáneo. Porque el cine se ha movido pero el cine de festivales no, siguen proyectándose los mismos pestiños de incomunicación que parecen conservados en formol desde los años de la intelectualidad, pero ahora en digital eso si, cine con fecha de caducidad, productos que ya eran coyunturales en su propio tiempo, el mismo discurso, la misma pedantería ombliguista pero con juguetes nuevos) y equivocadamente experimental, es decir que toma el experimento por el experimento agotándose en si mismo, sin darse cuenta de que para ser rompedor lo primero que se necesita es algo que romper. Bueno y después de estos exabruptos que tampoco vienen muy a cuento (supongo que son lo efluvios “arty” del FICXixon, muy recomendable por otra parte para ver películas que de otra manera nunca se podrían ver y otras que nunca se deberían haber rodado) abro el circo de tres pistas de Oldrich Lipský, popularísimo autor checo maestro de la escuela cómico-paródica del país y heredero de Karel Zeman y su concepción del cine como lugar mágico donde la imaginación es el límite.

Refrescos para el niño y  la niña

Lemonade Joe (Limonádový Joe aneb Konská opera, Joe Kolaloca)

Año: 1964

País: Checoslovaquia

99 min.

Fotografía: Vladimír Novotný

Música: Jan Rychlík y Vlastimil Hála

Guión: Oldrich Lipský y Jirí Brdecka

Reparto: Karel Fiala, Milos Kopecký, Kveta Fialová, Olinka Berova, Rudolf Deyl

Parodia/homenaje sobre los idealizados seriales del intachable “frontiersman” Hopalong Cassidy y del “vaquero cantante” Gene Auntry, encarnándose en el modelito blanco nuclear de Limonada Joe, tirador sin igual y cantor de los valores de la Cola-Loca y del ser abstemio (cuando prueba una sola gota de alcohol nuestro héroe cae redondo) que llega aun depravado pueblecito para extender por allí su marca encontrándose con la ayuda de una mojigata( o eso parece, claro, porque en realidad…) rubita que igualmente gorjea contra las bebidas espirituosas (a la que interpreta la pimpante Olinka Berova u Olga Schoberová agusto del consumidor, que emigró al mudo capitalista, posó en Playboy e incluso fue “hammergirl” en la secuela de “La diosa del fuego”)y una morenaza perdularia que ejerce de “starlette” en el “saloon” local (mientras la otra es una interesada de tomo y lomo esta se sacrificará por el galán sin dudarlo, redimiéndose de su mala vida, claro), quedando ambas prendadas del apolíneo galán. De tal modo se desatará una auténtica guerra por la pervivencia del bebercio local, cuya desaparición acabaría con la prosperidad del dueño del susodicho garito razón por la cual este intentará acabar con Kolaloca Joe como sea. Sin reparar en medios, trampas o crueldades.

Un auténtico festival emprendido por el excéntrico talento checo del director con arreglo a su irresistible sentido del cine (y a la participación de otro talento como el guionista y animador Jirí Brdecka, indisociable de algunos de los mayores logros de su filmografía), un maravilloso combinado de “non-sense”, imaginación sin ataduras, circo y “cartoon”, guiños al mudo, robos estéticos del mago Karel Zeman ( ese uso de los filtros de color, amarillos, rojos, azules, verdes o anaranjados, según convenga a la escena, a veces con intención dramática, a veces chocantes), “gags” a cada plano y cualquier cosa que se le ocurra.

Todo ello con la forma de una opereta que bebe del cabaret a lo Kurt Weill, del “Tin Pan Alley”, de la ensoñación country o la reinterpretación “jazzy”, del “ragtime” y de Gilbert & Sullivan, para dar forma (libérrima pero forma al fin y al cabo) a un mundo imposible en el que la única norma es la risa.

Sofisticadísima conceptualmente y muy trabajada formalmente, plagada de detalles y recursos asombrosos en los que la cámara y la puesta en escena están permanentemente al servicio de la comicidad (genial el momento en el que los pasos retumbantes del héroe hacen tambalear el encuadre), que abarca alegremente el chiste de mamporros y la sátira empresarial.Para rematar la filigrana el tremendo Milos Kopecký da un recital como el que faltaba, el archivillano total, rey del disfraz, tramposo, ilusionista a tiempo parcial y depravado en general…Hogofogo, terror del oeste buscado en cuatro estados, el perfecto corolario a un film sublime, a disfrutar sin prejuicios ni alergias a la extravagancia, una estilizadísima caricatura de América vista desde la Europa del comunismo, de su cultura popular y su manera de vender costumbrismo ingenuo, de sus maravillas impolutas (atención al final apoteósico y “felicisérrimo”, en el que no solo nadie muere de verdad, se descubren hermanos y reina el amor sino que encima encuentra petróleo, ¡toma ya!) y su poder de fascinación, con forma de ironía amable y rendido amor por el cine.

Manual del detective moderno

Nick Carter, aquel loco, loco, loco detective (Adéla jeste nevecerela)

Año: 1977

País: Checoslovaquia

102 min.

Fotografía: Jaroslav Kucera

Música: Jaroslav Kucera

Guión: Jirí Brdecka

Reparto: Michal Docolomanský, Rudolf Hrusínský, Milos Kopecký, Ladislav Pesek, Nada Konvalinková

Lipský dirige ahora sus dardos no de curaré sino de admiración rendida, que no quiere decir desprovista de mala leche sino sazonada de cariño, hacía los “pulp” en general y al personaje del infalible detective y hombre de acción Nick Carter en particular, un éxito de finales del XIX y principios del XX, que protagonizó multitud de “bolsilibros”, seriales radiofónicos, tebeos y películas entre ellas una célebre trilogía con Walter Pidgeon (Eddie Constantine también lo interpretaría en Francia) como el “maestro de detectives” y dirigidas dos de ella nada menos que por el gran Jacques Tourneur. Aquí reclamado desde Praga para encontrar a un perro (si, si Carter no discrimina lo mayor de lo menor) desaparecido topándose casualmente con su archinémesis, ¡El Botánico!, un despendolado científico loco al que interpreta ese genio total que fue Milos Kopeky, creador de una planta devoradora de hombres (la Adele que no ha cenado todavía del título original y que guiña un ojo al Corman de “The little shop of horrors”)) entre otros prodigios, que incluyen el rosal mucama que se mueve al rimo de una flauta hindú o la planta cuyas flores son ojos que lloran al sentir el sonido del violín.

Con la ayuda de un torpe comisario aficionado a las salchichas y la cerveza local, el imparable Carter, al que interpreta magníficamente un Michal Docolomanský todo seriedad heroica, desfacerá el entuerto, entre disfraces imposibles, rifles solares, sombreros con hélices y bicicletas voladoras (y esto solo para empezar), guiños a los enmascarados que corren sobre los tejados y caminan paredes en vertical, a la capacidad deductiva y la displicencia de Sherlock Holmes, a los “gadgest” “bondianos” en versión retro, y así hasta pasado mañana.

Realizada con un derroche de barroquismo e imaginación a chorroen el que el maestro Oldrich Lipský explicita a las claras la verdadera naturaleza de esta escuela checa, que no pretende ridiculizar el material de partida sino reproducirlo desde el humor, el cariño y la autoconsciencia, un ejercicio post-moderno pero sin pamplinas de “auteur” ni desvaríos estupendos, muy al contrario, facturando un show artesanal divertidísimo para el público y por el público, sabiendo que la experimentación por la experimentación es un camino hueco, pero que en las coordenadas populares cualquier cosa, por muy descabellada o compleja que sea siempre acaba encontrando un hueco natural.Tarda algo en arrancar tras su apoteósica secuencia de apertura y su comicidad entre “naïf” y sofisticada no es para todos los gustos, pero posee una segunda parte irresistible, un combinado de dibujos animados con el absolutamente genial “origen secreto” de “El botánico”, cine mudo (toda la persecución parece arrancada de un film de Harold Lloyd), prestamos del lenguaje del tebeo y ritmo del “cartoon”, comedia física y “gags” visuales, “stop-motion”, foto-cromos (antológico el flashback que narra el secuestro fotonovelado del chucho) y actuaciones caricaturescas y divertidísimas, ciento y un recursos cinematográficos y extra-cinematográficos puestos al servicio de la comedia total, todo por hacer reír.

Check out  Janet Jackson’s new music video “Make Me” from her new compilation album titled “Janet Jackson – Number Ones”, which is out now to purchase from all good music stores.  See Previous blog HERE for more details!

Behind the scenes of Janet’s new music video “Make Me”.

LINKS

Janet Jackson’s Official Website
http://www.janetjackson.com

Janet Jackson’s Official Facebook Page
http://www.facebook.com/JanetJackson

Janet Jackson’s Official Myspace Page
http://www.myspace.com/janetjackson

Janet Jackson’s Official Twitter Page
http://twitter.com/janetjackson

Can you imagine a world without George Lucas? I imagine there are some people who try to envision that scenario every day, but it’s not easy. George Lucas has changed the face of cinema forever, and while it’s debatable whether we’re much better off for it, I think it’s important to acknowledge all that he’s done. American Graffiti, Star Wars, Indiana Jones… okay, that’s pretty much it, but Star Wars is big enough for 10 movies. His influence is undeniable in the annals of the modern day mainstream action or sci-fi film, and he’s world renowned for his innovations in make-up, special effects, and sound design. But long before any of that, Lucas was just a struggling nobody, looking to make a buck off one of the ideas he had in film school. THX 1138 is George Lucas’s debut as a filmmaker, and it showcases what might have been if he had directed more than 6 movies in a 40 year long career. It’s daring, insightful, and, for all it’s faults, it’s entertaining, the real mark of a Lucas film.

It’s, yet again, THE FUTURE!!! Man has screwed himself yet again by creating a society where emotions are strictly controlled and obstructive rules crush originality and individualism. Underground, they work and toil in total seclusion, away from the possibilities and wonder of nature and the beauty of the sun. One of these poor dopes of the future is named THX 1138, and he works in a nuclear production line of some sort, and his life is misery. He does the same thing day in and day out, and his entire life is controlled by the drugs he is indoctrinated into taking and the propaganda that plays on the overhead 24 hours a day. It’s a depressing outlook for him, and it seems he’ll spend the rest of his life in a boring jumpsuit doing the same activity over and over until he dies, until one day his female roommate decides to stop taking her meds. Her entire life changes, and she decides that THX needs to feel this as well, so she starts feeding him placebos to ween him off the emotion-dampening meds. When he finally awakens from his self-imposed coma, he begins to have real zest and desire again. He and his roommate begin talking of escaping the underground to go live away from the oppressive society, as well as their baser desires for one another (i.e. they have dirty 70s sex off-screen). But almost immediately after all this coitus and crazy talk, they’re arrested for their heinous crimes against the state. Thus begins THX’s breaking away from the status quo. After his arrest, he begins a transformation that will see him through the labyrinth of underground tunnels all the way to his escape. He cannot handle the underground society and needs freedom. But what will the government be willing to do to keep him from seeing that freedom he craves?

Robert Duvall IS THX 1138. What a total shift from everything he’s ever done. Take a moment to look at his filmography. Go ahead. No, seriously, go look.

Go.

Hmm…

You back yet? Okay, did you see any other sci-fi films? And those TV shows from the 60s don’t count! This is Duvall as you’ve never seen him before; he’s fit, he’s young, and he’s ready to stop taking his future meds!!! THX is Lucas’s ultimate symbol of artistic expression, and his vision of how the artist should react in modern Hollywood when demands are made of their work. Duvall slyly understands this, and makes the character something that anyone can relate to, by reminding American audiences of their innate desire for freedom. It’s a good move, and it works well in this case.

Lucas, on somewhat of a shoestring budget, crafts a rather terrifying future that we are forced to consider. It’s not overpowering, and it’s not even that original, but Lucas does one thing well despite it all, and that is make the movie look good. The effects have a lot of thought put into them, and they border on the disorienting. Lucas’s dystopia is filled with disembodied voices commanding many things from its inhabitants, so there is a lot of chatter in the air that you’ll have to get used to. The city looks pretty good for ‘71, and the sets are depressingly claustrophobic, which I’m sure was the desired effect. My favorite set piece though is the Sanctioned Deity. It’s Hans Memling’s Christ Giving His Blessing, and it’s had a particular resonance with me. Here’s the image:

Christ Giving His Blessing

Kinda freaky, huh? Jesus, Caucasian for some reason, staring at you like he wants to eat you. It weirds me out a little bit, I won’t lie.

So if you want to watch a movie with your family this Thanksgiving with Donald Pleasence as a vengeful techie reciting speeches from Richard Nixon, Robert Duvall as a guy who just wants to roll around in the grass and get laid, and George Lucas with a passion you’ve never seen him with before, THX 1138 is your best bet, you upstanding family man, you. It’s not very long, the message isn’t very crisp, and the final sequence can get a little repetitive, but it’s decent entertainment that has something to say, and there’s never really enough of that nowadays. It makes me want to see more of this guy’s filmography, but unfortunately I think I’ve seen the rest of his films about 5000 times over by now. Oh, well. Check this out if you want something new and technically innovative for its time. I give THX 1138 7 1/2 disarming Jesus portraits out of 10.

Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving! Give me a good recommendation, and I will watch it! Goregirl gave me a fantastic one, but I still need more movies to see before the end of the year!

Finally, this year’s end of year’s party was so hipped! The theme was 50s, 60s & 70s. Great to see what everyone came up with. Although a number of people didn’t turn up, we enjoyed solely by ourselves lol We had food, games & great decor by Agnes, Dewi, Kim and Roy. Fusion of the era’s music and costumes, the aura was mesmerizing. Though everyone cleaned up & adjourn by 10+pm, the girls and I had another party to attend to. Metro City! Yes, it’s clubbing. To 3 of us, it was our first time stepping into such intimate yet heart pumping zone. Tried our first shots, felt awesome! I used to think that clubbing was an “impurity”, but after all the dancing and glancing, it has changed my perspective of viewing this popular hobby as a past time that keeps you alive. It really did keep me alive during the wee hours (though 2Am is still early).

This all happened last week, but it didn’t stop any of us to feel the WANT to go again. Yes, our feet hurt but once you step into this really upbeat and full-house zone, you wouldn’t care less about anything else. Just dance! Now I’ve started wondering, why didn’t I start such hobby much earlier when I got here. It’s a world of fun when summer holiday is here.

I hate fucking ABBA. Their music is really only appropriate in two places, at a wedding party and at a New Years Eve party. In other words when people are massively, massively, massively drunk. When our pub had a jukebox I had my own personal ban on ABBA. If one of their songs came on when the Jukebox was on random play I demanded it was skipped. I did let it play if someone had actually paid for it. I may be a dick but I’m not that much of a dick. Besides, those times were thankfully very few and far between.

Which surprised me to be honest because this film, this fucking film, did better at the box office in my hometown of Braintree, Essex than ‘The Dark Knight’ did. Apparently this town is filled with repressed ABBA fans, glad for a film to come out featuring their music so that they could sit there in the dark cinema where people might not recognise them. So yeah, thanks for that Braintree.

In fact a quick check of the internet reveals that Mamma Mia! Is the highest grossing film of all time in the UK. Yep, we had an empire that once spanned the globe and now we’re going mental for films based around the songs of a 70s Swedish pop group. Rule Britannia indeed.

Anyway, back to this movie. It basically tells the tale of a woman and her daughter who run a villa on an island for some reason. The daughter has met the boy of her dreams and intends to marry him. There’s one problem though. She’d really like her father to give her away at her wedding but because her mother was something of a slut in her youth, she has no idea who her father is. She finds her mother’s diary and sends invitations to three potential fathers, without telling her mother, and waits for them arrive. They do and shenanigans ensue.

Now, as I previously stated, I fucking hate ABBA but today I found out that I actually hate something more than their songs. It’s their songs sung by people who can’t sing. This was like watching a bunch of drunk people on a bad karaoke night. A really bad karaoke night. Except that I was watching it at work so I couldn’t drink. Dear God, I’ve never wanted a drink so bad in my life.

Well, I suppose that’s a little unfair. Meryl Streep ain’t bad. Not great but not bad. Still, the worst offender when it comes to aural raping is Pierce Brosnan. What the hell are you doing man? You were James Bond for fucks sake. You were the James Bond I grew up with, for better or for worse and now your singing ABBA songs whilst making a face that makes it look as if you’re trying to cough up a tortoise.

But it’s not just the singing that’s bad either! Some of the actors in this film are the worst I’ve seen outside of a B-Movie in many a year. In particular I’d like to say that the guy who plays Sophie’s fiancée Skye is a terrible actor. He was so wooden and insincere that I thought that he was being played by some kind of sarcastic puppet.

Oh, and another thing. Half the dialogue in this film seems to be delivered in some kind of strange, shrieking language that I’m fairly sure only women can understand. If you are going to do such a thing then you should probably have included subtitles for those poor bastards who got dragged along to see this by their wives and girlfriends.

Now, there were a couple of times when the film elicited a chuckle out of me. One was when a drill was used as a euphemism for a penis, telling me more than I wanted to know about exactly what childish level my sense of humour is at. The other was at the image of Pierce Brosnan dressed as a hippy. That was kinda funny. There was also one scene which I thought was kinda cool for a split second. The guests at the daughter’s hen party are looking over some kind of cliff ledge and a bunch of people are crawling up it. For one sweet second I thought it was some kind of zombie attack and I thought wow, people kept this twist quiet but alas, it was just the bachelor party on some kind of panty raid. I was sorely, sorely disappointed.

Perhaps the point where the movie really stretched the limit of believability was when all three potential fathers figured out the reason that they were invited out of the blue. They all came to the conclusion individually that they were the girls father and she wanted them to walk her down the aisle. However, they had all spent quite some time together at this point and they all knew that the other two had received equally mysterious invitations. How the fuck did they not realise that the other two were there for exactly the same reason and that Sophie hadn’t yet figured out who her actual father was? That’d be the first thing that came to my mind.

Perhaps the best thing about this movie is the fact that I watched Tremors directly before it. Man, Tremors is such an awesome film. Kevin Bacon is at his finest and you really believe that him and Fred Ward have worked together and been friends for quite some time. And who doesn’t love crazy survivalist Burt? And the Graboids still look fucking good even by today’s standards. Sure you can sometimes see the strings used to operate the tentacles in some scenes but it just adds to the charm of the movie. One thing that does confuse me though is the DVD cover. Seriously look it up now. I’ll wait.

Ok, you back? Right, what the fuck is that creature on the DVD cover with all the teeth and stuff? That looks nothing like the Graboids in the film. It just confuses me. Anyway, overall I’ll give Tremors four pints out of five.

Wait, what? Mamma Mia? Oh fine. I give Mamma Mia! one glass of white wine out of five. And you wanna know what the worst thing is? There is one ABBA song, one song that I can kind of stand. That song is Waterloo. Not sure why I don’t mind it. Maybe I’m just OK with songs based on historical events. Anyway, it’s not fucking in the film until the end credits. I kept thinking, oh just suffer through, at least Waterloo isn’t the worst thing in the world and they must have included it and then it turns out you have to watch the entire fucking film to get to it. And it takes place during this bizarre credit scene where Meryl Streep and her two friends yell at the audience asking if they want another song. Waterloo then follows filled with some of the most embarrassing dancing I’ve seen outside of a wedding reception… Which I guess is appropriate. Still, it well wasn’t worth it.

Fuck, this film has put me in a bad mood for the rest of the goddamn day. Still, if people like this kinda thing, and apparently they do, then it does give some hope for my planned film ‘Snooker Loopy’ featuring the music of Chas and Dave. Laterz.

wiki:

The Brood is a 1979 Canadian horror film written and directed by David Cronenberg, starring Oliver Reed, Samantha Eggar and Art Hindle. It was filmed in Toronto and Mississauga, Ontario. In 2004, one of its sequences was voted #78 among the “100 Scariest Movie Moments” by the Bravo Channel.^[1][2] The Brood was named 88th on the “Chicago Film Critics Association’s 100 Scariest Movies of All-Time”.^[3] The film was Cronenberg’s first major success.

Cronenberg has condemned the censorship of the climactic scene, “trimmed” in the United Kingdom, in which Eggar’s character gives birth to one of the monsters and starts tenderly licking it clean. “I had a long and loving close-up of Samantha licking the foetus… when the censors, those animals, cut it out, the result was that a lot of people thought she was eating her baby. That’s much worse than I was suggesting.”^[4]

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Hey Gang,

For Turkey Day 2009 I figured what better way to celebrate here at The Trash Cinema Collective than with the 1972 Anti-Drug, Pro-Christian, Mutant Killer Turkey film…Blood Freak!

That’s right, hold onto Plymouth Rock and prepare yourself for horrendous audio, unintelligible mumbling, bio-hazardous turkey meat, real life turkey decapitation, bible thumpers in red hot pants, sibling rivalry, turkey poking, mutant sex, cock blockage, a God live ever present narrator, the complimentary use of the term “husky”, real life amputees, lots of screaming, copious blood squirting, and poultry rage!

This episode wouldn’t have been possible without the indispensable help of Team Trash Cinema: Erica Andrus, Justin Falco and Terrius Greene whose performances bring this Thanksgiving Holiday Special to life. Thanks again, gang!

Have a Happy Thanksgiving and Stay Trashy!

-The Primal Root