gore

Tetsuo: Iron Man

BigSugar — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 02:08:03 +0000

By now most of you out there have heard of the Fleshlight, but if you haven't, it's basically a flashlight filled with foam rubber, then dug out in the shape of a vag. What you do is, you squirt some KY in that bastard, then stick your dick in it and jerk off. I'm holding out for stem cell research to develop a cod-piece that has an organic pussy in it. Strap that fucker on, wear it to work, then just throw your hips around a little and voila, cumshot on the sly. Take it home, douche it out, maybe feed it a cracker or two, and it's ready for the next day.

Yes, this is the line of thinking that occurs after watching this movie.

Here's the deal; a guy tries sticking metal into his body, then hits another cat while on a Sunday drive with his girlfriend, then the first cat transforms into a metal/flesh beast and dukes it out with the second cat, the one who he hit with his car. A lot of "What The Fuck?" mayhem ensues.

Back in '92 (I think), a Premiere magazine had a list of flicks that were making the rounds at festivals and some new videos that had come out, all of the connected by the what-the-fuck factor. The list looked something like this; El Mariachi, Reservoir Dogs, Bad Lieutenant, Meet the Feebles, Hard Boiled, and Tetsuo: Iron Man. I made solemn promise to myself that I would watch every one of those fucking movies if it killed me. It damn-near did.

So, at the top of the flick, our hero slashes a nasty, ragged hole in his thigh, then shoves a piece of steel rebar into the gaping wound. He wraps it up, then unwraps it later, only to be horrified by the maggots crawling around in it. Yes folks, there's no shortage of subtlety in this one.

Essentially, this is just a horror tone poem about the slow mechanization of the human condition. It took me reading roughly twenty scholarly articles in Film Comment and Film Quarterly to figure that nugget out. While you're watching this fucker, you can forget about high-minded criticism. You'll be lucky to get out with your skull merely fractured.

This one is pure cinema. A masterful little jaunt that visually and aurally assaults your face like a Kong dick blasting paisley, cotton-candy cum all over you. The camera work and the images draw you in and hold you down making the whole film feel like a prolonged instance of rubbernecking at a really nasty accident. One with meat spread out on the road like chunky peanutbutter. And the best part of all? The cat who made this flick did almost all of it on his own. Director, writer, lead actor, D.P., make-up effects, camera operator, editor Shinya Tsukamoto decided he was going to, By-Crom's-Bones, make a fucking movie and so he did. A Goddamned fierce one to boot. The images the man got o his 16mm camera (you're welcome, Meredith) land fucking deep, baby. Metalic zits to drill-bit dicks, I promise the taste of this one will fucking move you. What?

Get it and love it.

Save Yourselves,

'Nuff Sugar

Hellbound: Hellraiser II

BigSugar — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 23:07:27 +0000

There are very few moments in which I can be accused, rightly so, of horror movie heresy. This flick is one of them.

Here's the deal; picking up a few hours after the events of the first flick, Kirstie is back on the trail of her father while while a completely bugfuck headshrinker, Channard, gets all horny to fuck Kirstie's stepmom and find out what the Cenobites are up to. Psychosexual mayhem ensues.

Clive Barker's original Hellraiser was the late-Eighties benchmark for horror when the genre was well on its way to hybernation. Slasher flicks and Stephen King disasters had all but run horror movies into the ground. Then along came Clive and nothing would be the same. Saying all of that to say that I love the first film, but this one's the bees knees to me. We get a backstory for Pinhead, some gore that was cut from the first film, the ever fuckable Ashley Laurence and, though I hate admitting it, my first boner for a M.I.L.F. in Clare Higgins. Like all good horror films, the flick starts off in shit-bat overdrive and lets up a little only when it has to. There's a little bit of a sag in the midsection, but it's made up for by having EZ's and my nightmare vision of Hell; a room in which naked chicks cavort under a sheet of silk, only to disappear right when you're ready to get down to business time. That's Hell, baby. We also get some "rules" for the cenobites as well as the made-from-Scratch birth to death of the Channard cenobite, and Pinhead gets a ton more screen time. Did I mention Ashley Laurence?

And for those reasons, this flick is better to me than the first. Anybody that's got a problem with that, I'd love to debate it. I don't think that it's a better film technically, but, not unlike The Empire Strikes Back, the mythology is deepened and the characters are given a layer of complexity past what they got in the first film. Also, it's got more blood. And Christopher Young's masterpiece of a score. It's one of those movies that takes the ball and runs hard down the field with it.

Now Clive himself calls the film "uneven." I don't know what the fuck that means, so I can niether support or deny this claim, but he seems to say it in a derrogatory way, so, take that for what it is. So, here's where the heresy part comes in; if you're gonna do remakes and I can't stop you, well then remake this one. It's probably even more relevant now that it was two decades ago, and having that many years in advancements in technology will give those few shoddy visuals a chance to be redone with a digital spin. Leviathan would be a hard-on inducing sight done well, and we all know it.

Get it and love it.

Save Yourselves,

'Nuff Sugar

Friday the Thirteenth

BigSugar — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 17:22:28 +0000

Ahhh, the boys of summer are swiniging the ol' lumber, the air
smells of Coppertone and the bitches are stuffing Maraschino cherries
up their asses in Panama City. Summer's here. Time to dust
off an old standard.

Here's the deal: fuck it, man, if you don't
already know the story, empty your drool cup, turn on the Teletubbies
and leave the rest of us alone, asshole.

Halloween built the mold, but Friday the Thirteenth
put it into mass production. Seven sequels, thousands of
knock-offs and a decade later, we all got bored with it, but in the
summer of Anno Domini 1980, Sean Cunningham and Tom savini shot to
super-stardom in the hearts and minds of horror fans 'round the fucking
globe. A tiny, independent movie packed with naked hotties, edged
weapons and as much fake blood as the fellas could muster took the
nation's paying audience by storm and created the framework for the
horror movie franchise. Yes, folks, it all started here.

It's
not a perfect movie by any stretch of the imagiantion. Some
scenes look as though Ray fucking Charles lit them and once you know
the tricks that Savini was up to, it's not all that hard to see the
seams in the make-up. For many, it won't hold up to muliple
viewings. But for those out there like me, it's aged almost
perfectly and become one of those flicks that we keep coming back to,
like the swallows to Capastrano, or a Thai hooker to a fat American
businessman. It's comfortable and always pays off.

I have
many a theory as why this film was so popular in spite of its
shortcomings. Most of them are tied tightly to dickless critic
fucks like Siskel and Ebert. But almost thirty years on, I find
the charms of this little confection to have matured nicely. It's
got chicks in bikinis so small you could find the clitoris without
removing a single stitch, that alone makes it worth at least one solid
viewing a summer. I could've lived my whole life without seeing
Kevin Bacon in Speedo, but fuck it. Mix in some throat slashings
and an axe to the face and you've got a perfect way to pass a rainy
summer afternoon.

Get it and love it.

Save Yourselves,

'Nuff Sugar

Bad Taste

BigSugar — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 04:41:39 +0000

Dereks don't run, motherfuckers!!!!

Here's the deal; a
corporate contigent of aliens have landed in a small New Zealand town
and have sliced and diced all the inhabitants thereof, propmting the
government to send in a crew of fuck-ups to deal with the
situation. Sick, sick, gory-assed mayhem ensues.

For some
reason, Peter Jackson has been named geek butt-boy of late. Joblo
and Aintitcool are fucking swarming with the Johnny-come-lately
attitude that usaully follows when someone makes some really good
movies then fucks up royally (King King. Three
hours. What else can I say). But, lest we all forget,
Jackson all but ass-fucked us right out of the gate with this cute,
cuddly little slice of kiddie flick. Yeah, this was his lead-off
hitter. He pointed like the Babe, and then snapped this flick off
all over our collective faces. Brass fucking balls,
fuck-sticks, that's what that was.

The first five minutes of this
flick have a guy getting the top of his head literally blown off.
And his brains slop out all over the shooter's "strides." From
there, well, you'll just have to watch it. Suffice it to say that
if you don't laugh your ass off at this flick, it's time to lock the
doors, bolt the windows, drive an internet connection into your temple
and dowload porn straight into your cerebral cortex untill your dick
blows up. The show's basically over for you.

Now there's
plenty to tear apart with this flick. Continuity is all but
absent and if you're looking for smooth editing, try elsewhere.
That said, none of it will matter. If you've ever laughed out
loud at Monty Python, this is basically that amped past 11. Each
and every shortcoming is more than made up for by sheer insanity of the
sweet-holy-fuck-did-I-just-see-that? variety. If you've got a gag
reflex at all something in this flick will trip it. The "chuck"
swallowing scene did me in, does it every time. As I told someone
long ago, there's plenty of cheese, but it's just enough to cover the
meat here.

If you're a fan of Lord of the Rings and would
like to know how Peter Jackson kicked it all off, here it is. If
you're one of those lip-flapping fucks who likes to jump on the
bandwagon du jour, please watch it again and just shut the fuck
up. Raw desire and talent got this cat on the big stage, and I
can't vouch for anything in the future, but this one gives me hope for
all times. If the cat that did this one can get to the Big Show,
anybody can. So say we all.

Get it and love it.

'Nuff Sugar.

Evil Dead 2: Dead By Dawn

BigSugar — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 02:13:35 +0000

I've discovered, much to my dismay, that there are actually people
alive, drawing good air into their fucking lungs, who've never seen
this flick. Those motherfuckers are the reason terrorists exist.

Here's
the deal; total dumbass, Ash, drags his bitch deep into the woods for
some nook-nook to a cabin where they discover tape recorded demon
ressurrection passages and, of course, they play the fucking
tape. Demon possession mayhem ensues. Then ensues some
more. Then gets to really fucking ensuing. Then just keeps
on ensuing.

Let me say this right off the bat; if you haven't
seen this movie, don't even bother trying to talk to me.
Seriously, go fuck yourself until you watch this one. There's
just no excuse. Not knowing this flick is, to me, the rough
equivalent of not knowing how to fuck. To me, this one is up
there with Jaws or The Godfather.
Unfuckingtouchable. And if you want to make independant films,
hell if you want to make movies at all, get to stepping
motherfucker. There's no good reason why this movie isn't in
regular rotaion on your DVD player.

This is Sam Rami's
masterpiece. Period. I know there is a small minority who
feel the first one is better and an even smaller group who feel that Army of Darkness
is better. Given my druthers, the populations of both those camps
would be shaved, sterilized and fucking destroyed. Neither of
those flicks- hell, no other movie in the history of film- has the
sheer insane velocity and wacked-out psychotic humor of this one.
Not fifteen minutes into the movie, one half of the onscreen characters
are beheaded, resurrected, and skull fucked with a chainsaw. And it gets even crazier from there!

While
the story itself is off-the-wall batshit, let's not forget that
everything else in play works like a champ here as well. Bruce
Campbell became a cult hero after this flick, and the character of Ash
is no less indelible than Indiana Jones or Michael Corleone. That
square-jawed fuck managed to make an idiot so beloved that, to this
day, he remains a geek hero of the highest order. The special f/x
are top-notch as well, representing Mark Shostrom's best work ever and
some of KNB's A-level efforts as well. Possessed Henrietta and
and the severed hand will forver be in my Top 10 F/X moments if for no
other reason than the fact that both have a character and story arc as
well as a fine sense of humor.

I'll be the first to admit
that Rami's career has spun right the fuck out of control, or into it,
depending on your point of view. But let's not forget that the
motherfucker gave us this one. He wants to make a three hour Spiderman, fine. Let him. Fuckit, the guy made Evil Dead 2.
But there will always be a piece of me that longs for him to get back
to what made him the hotshot that he is today. And while he may
make comicbook and baseball movies for the rest of his life, he'll
always be the guy who popped out a demon's eye and dropped it into a
girl's mouth to me. Open up and say AAAAAHHHHHHH, bitches!

Get it and really, really, really fucking love it!

Save Yourselves,

'Nuff Sugar

Inside

BigSugar — Thu, 15 May 2008 03:36:26 +0000

Gotta hand it to the Frogs, they've finally gotten offa their asses and started putting some points up on the horror board.

Here's
the deal; After survivng a wreck that killed her husband, a very
pregnant Sarah winds up having to deal with a mysterious cunt bent on
fucking her up but good. Motherly mayhem ensues.

Two minutes (fuck not even
that) into this movie, you're looking at a dead baby. That's
where it starts. It gets worse from there. I'd love to give
you more plot, but what's up there, man that covers it. Sounds
pretty simple, and hell it is simple, but by the end of this
one, you're going to pray that you never see another pair of scissors
for the rest of your fucking life. Trust me.

The two
broads at the center of the story worked their asses off and made what
would've been a really basic movie a fucking home run. The
directors didn't phone anything in either. At a very short
seventy-eight minutes, they managed to turn the screws so hard that I
almost felt like I did the first time I saw Evil Dead 2 (which,
more or less, felt alot like the first time I got a hummer. And
yeah, she was fat). Also, if it were in my power to do, I'd send
the F/X team a round of blowjobs. They missed on two accounts
that I saw, and that's it. You'll have to watch it to see how
much shit is in there for that to make sense as a compliment, but it
is, man. It so fucking is.

The other thing about this movie is the visual style they put
on the board. I don't know what kind of crack the cinematographer
was on, but that shit should be made mandatory for all future film
endeavors. In my favorite shot, they give a knod to Halloween,
and they make that shit work like a fucking John Deere. As this
fucker unspools, the visuals just get better and better.

All
of that said, a word of caution; unless your girlfriend or wife has a
tattoo of Castro over her pussy, or piercings in her face or clit, best
to skip this one until you can watch it alone. And no, I'm not
kidding. Boys and girls, this one put me through the floor, and I'm a horror movie whore. Thanks go out to Brendan for passing this one along. I owe your ass now, motherfucker.

Get it and love it.

Save yourselves,

'Nuff Sugar

Cuties

BigSugar — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 08:38:44 +0000

Tone: Mean Girls meets John Carpenter's The Thing.

Aliens are among us.

Disguising
their seed in mineral make-up, they have begun to take over
Earthlings. Young, hot, female Earthlings who turn hyper-violent,
killing anyone who gets in their way. It's up to the town tramp
(who also happens to be the local sheriff's daughter) to stop the
aliens before they destroy her home.

Well, you lovely motherfuckers, here it is. The completed first draft of what I promise you is the sickest, most disgusting, most offensive piece of material on this whole site. This is it, ladies and gents, the worst this place has to offer. Any damage this thing does to you is not my fucking fault. You've been warned.

Day of the Dead

BigSugar — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 06:55:52 +0000

".....and then there are the real trolls that love Day of the Dead!"- George A. Romero

Lot
of stuff on here about zombies lately. Lot of loose talk about
Boss Romero. I'm here to speak for the minority. That's
right! I'm a Day of the Dead lover, and I'm fuckin' proud of it!

Here's
the deal; a rag-tag military unit and a group of scientists start to
crack under the pressure of the living dead. Zombies fucking shit
up ensues, and brother does it ensue.

Now look, we all know that there are only three zombie movies; Night of the Living Dead (classic movie), Dawn of the Dead (even more classic), and Day of the Dead (reviled classic). Shaun of the Dead, Land of the Dead, so on and so forth, blah, blah, blah, there's only three! just like there's only three Star Wars movies.
Let's just stop the argument right there. The Italians are just
gonna have wait and all Romero post '85 is just footnote. Kind of
like all Coppola post '79.

I'm a Day of the Dead fan. A big one. It's got
Romero's best script, Savini's best effects, and the trilogy's best
heroes and villains (it also has the coarsest language of the trilogy,
and that alone puts it up there for me). The only shitty thing is
the music and even that doesn't distract you too much after the first
third of the movie. It also has the moment that most horrified me
when I saw these films; when the mad doctor tells Rhodes that they're
now outnumbered by about 400,000 to 1, I don't know why, but that stuck
in my head for weeks after I first watched this movie. Something
about not even being able to defend yourself with small arms gives me
the creeps. Fucking testosterone.

Now I know a lot of you out there are screaming about the social commentary of the first two films, but truthfully, Night and Dawn
had their day. Times changed, baby, and while the racial issues
and condemnation of commercialism are just as relevant now, George's
observation of the military as being totally useless as a tool for
problem solving seems way more relevant now that either of his previous
screeds. Not only that, but a bunch of scientists running around
screaming about saving the planet before we all go down in flames seems
to speak directly to a lot of inconvenient truths flying
about right now.

All that aside, here's the worst part; I
find myself identifying with the Bub zombie more and more. Pushed
around by assholes so I can be fucking wrangled into a room and handed
treats while I perform stupid human tricks for a group of people who
veiw me as a problem to be solved. I'll bet I'm not the only one
out there catching that particular cold either. And let's face
it, as much I'd love to be as centered as the Jamaican, as cool as the
Irishman, or as tough as the lady doctor, baby, I'm just chained to the
wall downing chunks of the newly dead and shaving half my face off
anyway. Can you dig it?

And fuck it, I like the scene
where Rhodes buys it. If you get the two-disc set, there's
a classic story about how that scene was filmed that will make you
appreciate Pilato's acting. Motherfucker deserves an Oscar.

Get it and love it.

Save Yourselves

'Nuff Sugar

The Blob

BigSugar — Mon, 24 Mar 2008 18:12:16 +0000

Fuck remakes, right?

Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Hills Have Eyes, Disturbia.
Like Richard Pryor says, how long will this bullshit go on?
Here's the thing though, they used to make really fucking good remakes. Anybody here remember John Carpenter's The Thing? How about David Cronenberg's The Fly? Ask me and I put Chuck Russell's remake of The Blob in there as well. With The Mist coming out tomorrow, I figured what the hell?

So,
here it is; amorphous alien organism falls to Earth and starts eating
shit in its path. Eighties teen hottie (and current Saw franchise star) Shawnee Smith And Johnny Drama himself have to stop the motherfucker before their whole town gets consumed.

There
are two great things about this movie; the first is the special
effects. The Blob itself is all veiny and pinkish purple and able
to form semi-hard tendrils and appendages. Not only that but it
likes to crawl into dark, wet holes. I find myself having a lot
in common with this Blob. If only my dick could dissolve and
consume flesh in order to grow in stature. If you've already seen
the movie, I know exactly how the thing got inside of Erika
Eleniak. Tasty, baby. Not only that, but the guy who gets
pulled down the drain is priceless, I don't care what you say.

The other thing this movie has going for it is the
script. Darabont and Russell take all of the comventions from the
original and subvert them while poking fun at the slasher films of the
Eighties with a wink and a nod. Now of course, there's some
lame-ass dialogue and characters do and say truly stupid things from
time to time, but right about the time you think you've got a turd on
your hands, they do something really cool and turn it around.
Come on, try and imagine this script and then imagine Joe Seneca
spewing lines in a white suit. Fucking genius, baby. And
that clean cut kid you think is the hero, forget that shit. Not
here. It also has to be said here that, though the end of The Mist is better than the ending here, The Blob has a nice gut-punch to go out on as well.

I
know it's become cool over the years to choose some obscure movie to
rave about and show how cool you are, but remember that Russell and
Darabont went on to bigger things. And this movie, in a way,
encapsulates the talent both of these guys have. Not only is the
film tight, but it's slick as well and not one thing is over the edge
that isn't waaaay over the edge. And if your monster is a giant
wad of penis-looking gelatian, then we got a better movie than anybody
has right to expect.

Get it and love it.

Save yourselves

'Nuff Sugar

Our Movie on Count Gore De Vol's Show

frightymcgee — Sat, 09 Feb 2008 17:50:57 +0000

Hey, some super cool news for everyone involved in A Thousand Words: Bloodline. I found out this morning that the movie was picked up by Count Gore De Vol for his internet showcase. For all those who have not gotten a chance to see the movie, for a time you can check it out online at http://www.countgore.com/NewBlood.ht... including intro and wrap-up by Count Gore himself. By the things he wrote on the site and in the bookend segments he did, he really liked it.

So please, if you haven't checked out the movie this is your chance. I'm not sure how long it will be up but I'm pretty sure it's only for a limited time. Head over to the Count's website and take a peek at the show!

This is probably the only time this movie will be online unless we trip into another cool situation like this.

Thanks,
Justin

http://www.countgore.com/NewBlood.ht...