Showing posts with label Monsterrific. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Monsterrific. Show all posts

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Canada Loves Boris Karloff



Karloff and a spooky mewer in Edgar G. Ulmer's brilliant adaptation
of Edgar Allan Poe's classic: "The Black Cat"

~~

In honour of the final day of Frankensteinia's Boris Karloff Blogathon, Killer Kittens From Beyond the Grave would like to share this interesting excerpt from Alberta History (Vol. 55 No. 2). Boris Karloff in Alberta was written by Stephen Jacobs, and details Boris Karloff's work with the Jeanne Russell Stock Company in the early 1900's.


"I felt I had to get away and work things out on my own.
When I blithely flipped a coin in the family solicitor's office,
the unfortunate losers were the Canadians."


This article was nabbed from Jacobs' web site, Boris Karloff: More Than a Monster, which is also the title of the biography he wrote about the iconic actor (scheduled to be published by Tomahawk Press).

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Hello Frankenstein



The short film that answers the age old question:
"What if cats made the movie
Frankenstein?"


Little Green Dog (ironic, isn't it?) put together this dreadfully cute short film based on Mary Shelley's classic tale of the tragic consequences which arose from a scientists aspiration to blur the lines between life and death.


D.R. Greenlaw and Alisa Loren Klein have lent their artistic abilities to the following projects you may have heard of (if you haven't, you might as well just shoot yourself in the face right now, for you are beyond help): Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, X-Men, and Pan's Labyrinth.



Friday, December 19, 2008

Rasputin and the Princess



A voluptuous blonde playfully disrobes, then settles herself upon a coffin-like structure for a statuesque nap. A lurking monster appears, ravages her, and then gently sets her back upon her pedestal for sleepies once again! The bombshell awakens to discover that the fearsome scene was merely a nightmare... Or, was it?

RASPUTIN AND THE PRINCESS
was released as an archival short with THE CURIOUS DR. HUMPP SPECIAL EDITION (2000) by those cwazy wabbits at Something Weird Video. While not quite as WTF? OMG! HOT! as the film's other vintage smut offering, THE GIRL AND THE SKELETON, this 7 minute clip features plenty of music, dancing, and monstrousness!

As with all online video clips featuring the (mostly) undressed female form, please be sure to watch while supplies last. And, don't forget to enjoy!




Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Ginger Snaps (2000)


Caution: Spoilers Galore, Eh?


Brigitte was out in the garage, rounding up supplies, when her neighbour began to shriek hysterically. “It got our dog! It got Baxter!”

“Baxter is fertilizer… And everyone is, like, staring.” Brigitte (Emily Perkins) explained a moment later to her sister, who was sitting hunched over on her bed, applying a vicious-looking knife to her pale, narrow wrist. Brigitte goes on about the attack, but she is speaking primarily to herself. Her sister, Ginger (Katherine Isabelle), has other preoccupations.

“Wrists are for girls,” The pretty redhead exclaims, falling backward onto her bed in a way most befitting a teenage angster. “I’m slitting my throat… You should definitely hang.”

The twisted sisters are close, perhaps too close. The younger, more rational Brigitte can’t seem to find her way out from under big sister Ginger’s shadow. They do everything together, and have no friends but for each other. They even share a room. They also share a secret death pact, first declared when the girls were small children: “out by 16 or dead in the scene, but together forever. United against life as we know it.”



The girls have put together a pictorial for an assignment they have been given in class on Life in Bailey Downs. The sisters produce a slideshow featuring shockingly gruesome images of the two of them cloaked in grim death, their lives used up in a variety of ways, ranging from profuse pill hunger to lawnmower entrapment. While their teacher, “sickened” by the display, requests that the girls report to the Guidance Office, one of the Jock Cocks in the class (Jesse Moss) requests to see the photographs of Ginger again. The eldest sister smiles coyly. Her powers of sexual attraction are new to her, and she is yet unsure how to use them.

The Fitzgerald sisters are in a class all their own, really. They have no desire to fit in with their schoolmates, choosing instead to huddle together as though in a protective stance against all possible intrusions. To say they’re not the sort of girls who get invited to a lot of parties would be a fierce understatement. “High school is just a mindless, breeder machine. Total hormonal toilet. I’d rather wait it all out in our room.”

Unfortunately, Brigitte’s wish simply cannot be. After a field hockey altercation with Miss Teen Popularity, Trina Sinclair (Danielle Hampton), the Fitzgerald sisters vow revenge. Or, rather Ginger vows revenge, while Brigitte merely goes along for the ride, as is her usual practice.


"You let idiots get away with fucking you up.
That’s why the Big Buddha made me; to stop them.”




The prank the girls have in store for Trina is diabolically mean: they take some of their leftover photo shoot gore, and go out on a late night mission to swap the bimbo’s dog for a pile of quivering “remains,” to make the snob think her poor pooch has been claimed by the Beast of Bailey Downs. On the way to Trina’s house, the girls stumble across something much better than their plastic bag of makeshift meat: a fresh, mangled kill, presumably that of another neighbourhood dog. Brigitte notes that the carcass is still warm.

Out of the surrounding trees comes a lightning-quick predator to snatch Ginger, screaming, out of sight. Calling desperately to her sister, Brigitte enters the woods to find Ginger pleading for her life while a giant wolf tears her to bloody shreds. Brigitte finds the courage to fend off the animal with a bludgeon, and the girls flee the woods together. The wolf creature is hot on their tracks, until a speeding van finally comes between them. In shock, the sisters continue to make their way home.



Oddly, by the time they reach the safety of their room, Ginger’s wounds have already begun to heal. She convinces Brigitte not to call for a doctor, and more importantly, not to tell Mom.

Ginger is going through a difficult time, developmentally. She’s recently been blessed with a functioning menstrual cycle (better late than never), and she is just now coming into power as a sexual being. She suddenly finds she has a lot more time for the Jock Cocks. But there are other things, too. Weirder things; like the white fur growing out of the wound from her animal attack.


“I can’t have a hairy chest, B. That’s fucked!”



Brigitte lays the werewolf card out on the table, but Ginger only laughs, and thanks her sister for taking her hormonal problems so seriously. The two of them continue drifting apart as Ginger’s hunger to blossom into wolfey womanhood deepens. She can’t help it if Brigitte is immature, and not ready to move on yet.

In a schoolhouse scene reminiscent of Scott Teen Wolf Howard’s triumphant showing at the Spring Dance, Ginger shows up in locker alley with a new attitude, and hot new look, to boot! All her peers drop what they are doing in order to: stop, stare, and go: “Ooooooo!”

Her sister Brigitte is not amused, but she’s got other pots boiling on the stove. Suddenly, she’s a major point of interest for the cute Campus Drug Dealer, Sam (Chris Lemche), who hit the animal that attacked Ginger on that fateful night. He produces from his pocket a Polaroid snapshot of the beast that Brigitte had dropped near his van. He mentions the word “lycanthrope,” and Brigitte’s blood runs cold.


“That would explain the huge, uncircumcised dick,
and why you were running for your life from it.”



Fearing he is getting too close to the topic she has been secretly researching on her sister’s behalf, Brigitte rushes off without giving the boy any more of her time, or even her name. Later that night, she realizes the stakes are much higher than she estimated, when she discovers her sisters’ little nub of a tail.

She is forced to seek out the Campus Drug Dealer in the morning to enlist his help. For the sake of protecting Ginger’s secret, she tells him that she was the one who was bitten. Brigitte knows she hasn’t much time to stop the change, as the moon is nearing the completion of its cycle. On top of that, Ginger is ovulating, and suddenly the easiest girl in school. In the backseat of Jock Cock’s car, a certain kind of magick happens.


“I get this ache… I thought it was for sex,
but it’s to tear everything to fucking pieces.”




Ginger leads Brigitte to her victim’s final resting place, next door. The fat kid in the hockey outfit just won’t be the same without his yappy, little dog, Norman.



Brigitte takes Ginger to meet with her new friend Sam, as Ginger is suspicious of his willingness to help. The young apothecary produces a horticultural text on the benefits of monkshood in curing humans of uncharacteristically wolfish behaviour, while Ginger engages in territorial pissings with her sisters’ new boyfriend before taking off in a jealous huff.

A terrible accident occurs during yet another altercation with Trina Sinclair, who finds herself unable to cry over the spilled milk she slips on, mostly because she is irrefutably dead. Brigitte and Ginger scramble to clean up the mess before their parents get home, oh-so-narrowly avoiding catastrophe.



“If I wasn't here, would you eat her?”



“No! God, that’d be like fucking her!”


Brigitte lays down the law: keep Ginger hidden until her fate is certain, then get the fuck out of Dodge, together. Just as they had always planned.

Things continue to unravel for the Fitgerald sisters. Their mother knows that the police are seeking to question them about Trina Sinclair’s disappearance. It is during a fumbling lecture that Brigitte discovers a bunch of monkshood, which Mrs. Fitzgerald (Mimi Rogers) has just purchased from a craft store for a flower arrangement. Brigitte promises her sister that she will learn how to use it, and that the two of them will run away together, before it’s too late. When Brigitte slips out to confer with Sam, she barricades Ginger in the bathroom.



In a tender moment following numerous scenes of alchemistic eye candy, Sam indicates to Brigitte that he has seen through her rouse all along: "Understand that you may kill her trying to save her." Brigitte leaves Sam, and returns home to find that Ginger has broken out of the bathroom. The hunt begins…

Did I mention it just happens to be Halloween? Brigitte encounters Jock Cock, who has come down with the same illness as her sister, assailing a little trick-or-treater, and is forced to use her anti-werewolf potion on the foamy-fanged lad. She is relieved to discover that the solution Sam cooked up for her works! Cock Jock wakes up from his wolven frenzy, as though from a bad dream. Now that Brigitte has the cure, it is even more imperative that she find Ginger before it’s too late.


Ginger is in the Guidance Office, pretty far-gone on the lycanthrope scale, standing amid the bloody aftermath of her latest kill. Once again, younger sister must help big sister clean up after her indulgent atrocities. Meanwhile, in the midst of a little backyard gardening, their parents unearth a chunk of Trina Sinclair. Mrs. Fitzgerald assures her husband that the severed fingers are merely props left over from the girls’ death project, but the look on her face suggests that she isn’t buying her own excuse.

Before Brigitte can make it back to the Guidance Office with some commercial strength cleaning supplies, Ginger finds herself another chew toy. This time, it's the kindly, old Asian janitor who has taken a shining to the younger Fitzgerald sister.


“It feels so good, Brigitte. It’s like touching yourself,
you know? Every move, right on the fucking dot...
I’m a goddamn force of nature.
I feel like I could do just about anything..."




Ginger eyes her sister strangely, almost sexually. Eating her would be like fucking her. A look of panic washes over Brigitte’s face, but Ginger doesn’t want to eat her. She wants to be with her, always. Like a new pact.


“I said I’d die for you!”

“No, you said you’d die with me,
because you had nothing better to do.”



Ginger erupts in anger and takes off, leaving Brigitte lying in the corridor to contemplate the final showdown, which is inevitable. The stage is set: there is a big, Halloween bash going down at the greenhouse where Sam the Knowledgeable Drug Dealer cultivates his herbs. As soon as she can get to her feet, Brigitte puts her combat boots to pavement and races there. A van pulls up beside her as she attempts to hitch a ride. It’s her mother. She knows about Trina Sinclair, and wants to help. She isn’t about to let anything happen to her Tiny Babies.

Mrs. Fitzgerald waits in the car while Brigitte makes her way inside the greenhouse to claim her sister. She finds her in the back room, making advances on Sam. Brigitte has had enough of her sisters’ selfishness. She takes up a blade, and exchanges blood once again with Ginger.


“You wrecked everything for me
that isn’t about you...
Now, I am you.”



Suddenly, Ginger’s voice takes on a considerably more testosteroney quality, and they realize that the sand has nearly drained from the hourglass. Soon, the moon will be full, and if Ginger’s transformation isn’t stopped before then, there will be no turning back for her. They leave their mother at the party, and take off with Ginger in the back of Sam’s Mystery Mobile to “get the stuff” (monkshood). Wolfed to the Max at this point, Ginger breaks loose from the vehicle and heads into the house for a game of hide and seek.

While cooking up a batch of Werewolf B. Gone in the pantry with Brigitte, the dashing, young Sam slaps her with a tempting proposition: take the cure herself, and run away with him. But Brigitte already belongs to another. True to her sister to the foreseeably-bitter end, she insists they persevere.

Kiss your boyfriend goodbye, Brigitte…



Ginger serves Sam up as an offering to her little sister. Brigitte tries to resist the allure of his syrupy, crimson essence, but suffers a momentary lapse of reason due to the fact that she is feeling somewhat wolfey herself, of late. Sam is choking on his final breaths while the Fitzgerald sisters lap up the blood flowing from his wounds.



Her humanity returned to her in an instant, Brigitte refuses to become what Ginger has become. The climactic final showdown between them takes place, appropriately enough, in the bedroom they shared for so many years.


“I’m not dying in this room with you!”



Ginger lunges, falling on Brigitte’s blade. The broken beast that lies gasping in a pool of its own blood dies in her sisters’ arms.



I always cry when I watch this movie through to the end. I am wiping a salty stream from my face even as I write this, in fact. Ginger Snaps triggers my empathic nerve because of the fact that I see so much of myself in it. My own sister and I are a lot like Ginger and Brigitte, right down to the colourful, oh-so-typically Canadian lingo which spews from their mouths in every frame. We look out for one another, protect one another, and love one another almost to the exclusion of all else.

The taut tale, written by Karen Walton, was lighthearted and comical at times, while never losing sight of the end goal, which was to produce a serious horror film. Ginger Snaps delivers top-notch tension and suspense, teamed with fabulously-gory makeup effects. John Fawcett’s direction of this picture is superb; the only complaint I have is that some of the scenes ran a little long to me, and could possibly have benefited from being edited down. However, I can’t help but feel that the long, loving gazes the lens would fix on the Fitzgerald sisters was an indication of the director’s obvious passion for the story, and the characters which live in it.



Or, perhaps he was simply as captivated as I was with the unmistakable chemistry between Katharine Isabelle and Emily Perkins as Ginger and Brigitte Fitzgerald. While both of the young actresses did a remarkable job in the realization of their respective roles (particularly with regard to the special bond they shared as not only sisters, but also social outcasts), Ms. Perkins’ star outshines that of Ms. Isabelle considerably. Her execution of the strong, conflicted character, Brigitte, is nothing short of brilliant. While Isabelle’s performance hits all the right notes in leaving the viewer with a lasting impression of Ginger slowly becoming a sleek, sexy killer wolf, Perkins is absolutely effortless as she delivers one of the meatiest female performances in recent genre memory.

Last, but certainly not least, I'd like to say a few words about Mimi Rogers in the role of Mrs. Pamela Fitzgerald: Fan. Fucking. Tastic. A true, comedic ninja, Rogers nails the cookie-baking, heart-to-heart talk-having, holiday print shirt-wearing mother directly and accurately to the wall, while John Bourgeois props her up as the Clueless Husband.

A number of sequels (and even a prequel) have followed this original title, but none of them have even come close to achieving the perfectly-balanced level of technical prowess, artistic brilliance, and undeniable screen magic as the initial effort.







5/5 Kitty Skulls = Pick of the litter!

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Ratman (1988)



Caution: Spoilers Galore


“I hereby confirm that I will present to the next International Genetics Congress the new hybrid I developed, by introducing the sperm of a rat into the ovum of a monkey.

This hybrid has – in its teeth, and under its nails – a very potent poison, one that produces a kind of instantaneous Leptospirosis. Its bite or scratch will kill a human being in just a few seconds.”




The lead-in is impossible to miss. Mad Scientist gives his Greasty Manservant feeding instructions for the beast, who reveals that “Mousy” has been growing crazy-strong on his strict raw meat diet. The Scientist and Greasy leave the rat warehouse, and in the very next frame, Mousy’s cage is empty! Buckle your seats, kids. Giuliano Carnimeo's Ratman is going to be a gnarly ride!

The flesh-eating hybrid snacks on a tasty, meat Popsicle while peering through tropical foliage at a sunny scene of swimsuit models frolicking on a beach for a sufficiently douchey photographer named Mark (Werner Pochath), who is snapping off shots of their sand-covered crevasses. Everything is going along swimmingly with the shoot until the lovely Marlis (Eva Grimaldi) discovers a decomposing body hidden within a rock formation. Team Beach Baby recovers from the gruesome find quite well; there are drinks to be drunk at the sand bar, and island men to be had.



Peggy (Luisa Menon), the New York Doll, is already running late for a date when the taxi cab she is riding in blows a tire. Incredulously, the driver tells her that “it’s the third one today, and I just don’t have any more spares!” She will, most unfortunately, have to walk the rest of the way. At night. Through the rough part of town. In a backless, mock snakeskin dress, and plastic pearls. To cap it all off with a glass of Pee Soda, the cabbie still makes the Senorita pay for the ride! Ahhh, ZUT!!!

While on her midnight stroll, the Doll hears an unearthly screeching sound coming from one of the buildings. She peers in the window just in time to see a fresh corpse being dragged out of view. Just then, she realizes that there is a brooding, shadowy figure approaching, so she runs off in search of a place to hide. Ducking inside a remarkably well-kept abandoned house, she huddles in a dark corner as the marauder drags the dull blade of his big, scary knife across the building’s frame. Screeeeeech. The tension of these several minutes’ worth of stalking is most delicious.

Peggy's would-be assailant turns out to be a sketchy-looking Latino dude with huge he-hooters. Definitely not the kind of guy you want to have to do a striptease-at-knifepoint for, if ya know what I mean! Unfortunately, the New York Doll snags her string of pearls, and the beads come crashing to the floor around her, one by one, in a violent cacophony of unwanted sound. Luckily (for the viewer, not so much for the broad), Ratman gets to taste her pretty flesh before the creep-o with the ugly knife does. The model’s blood-curdling screams cause the lurker to think twice about fucking around in abandoned buildings, and he takes off back into the night.

Fade to an airplane landing in the late afternoon sun. Fred Williams (David Warbeck), All-Amerian Writer Hero, shares a taxi cab with a stunning, young woman named Terry (Janet Agren) on her way to the morgue to identify the body of her missing sister. A true, old-fashioned gent, Fred accompanies the woman while she attends to the loathsome task of seeing a loved one laid out on a slab like cold cuts at a cheap buffet. But, wait…


“This isn’t my sister.
You’ve frightened me for no reason!”




The police are dumbfounded. Who can it beeee now?? Although they have no idea who the victim is, they believe they have caught the murderer, and instruct Fred to leave the investigating to “us professionals.” Yeah, buddy. Okie dokie. Later, the odd couple are forced to endure a do-over when the cops invite them to identify the body of yet another dead, blonde, clawed-to-shit girl that could be Terry's sister.


“This isn’t Marlis, either.
She’s in the jungle, on an assignment!”



“Feel the jungle! You’re an animal! You’re wild!”


Back to the modeling… The next shoot is a steamy (if not a bit jerky), full 4 minutes’ worth of Marlis prancing around, wet and braless, in an ill-fitting tank top, and (hello!) cut-off jean shorts. A walkman is clipped to her hip for added flair and a hip, sporty jaunt. Accessorize!

After slipping into a nearby cave while possessed by the driving, primal urges conjured by the photo shoot, Marlis discovers her second body on the job. Who's a lucky girl?



She blows off with the photographer (never in any hurry to inform the authorities about their grizzly finds) to grab their pal Monique, and get the fuck out of Dodge. But lo, and behold: Ratman climbs up out of the toilet and attacks poor Monique just as the dude is getting to her door (which rests at the end of a labyrinth of dangerous safety hazards, I might add).


“What happened to her?”




“I’m not sure, but it’s horrifying!”



Coincidentally, shortly after discovering Monique’s body, The Mad Scientist, Ratman’s creator, smokes Mark with his car and then takes him to his swanky lair so that he may attend to his wounds. Meanwhile, Marlis engages in one of the most viewer-friendly shower scenes these glow-in-the-dark Kitty eyes have ever seen. Post spritz-bliss, she hears some freaky, squealing noises coming from outside the window, and bolts out of the bathroom in fear. The beast's shadow is spotted darting across the hallway. At last, the hybrid has returned to his Master!



It’s Marlis’s presence; the Ratman is drawn to her, because he wants to spawn with her. It’s typical rodent behaviour, really. After narrowly escaping his bestial advances in the boudoir at The Mad Scientist’s lair, she rushes to Mark’s side for comfort and safety. After climbing into bed with him, she realizes that he’s already been shredded up pretty thoroughly by the Ratman. At this point in my discussion of the film, I should add that Eva Grimaldi is quite adept in the Art of the Terror Face. A face like hers makes one long for the next bloody disposal, simply to catch a glimpse of the wonderful ways in which her sinuous features will contort.



Mark the Photographer lies dead on the bed (his chest still moving up and down quite perceptibly, however) while the Scientist and his Manservant begin combing the joint for Ratman. Don’t worry, baby. I’ll explain it all to ya later.

Silly mortals! You think you can foil Ratman in his desperate search for world domination and bloody revenge on those who first created, and then caged him? Nofuckingway! The hybrid brute goes on a feeding frenzy while his unliberated rat pals look on from their cages, crying to get in on the action.

“Mousy” finally bites the hand (erm, face) that used to feed him, tearing a big ole strip off of the Scientist before taking him down to finish the job on the floor. Nice moves, little guy! Marlis hears the commotion from outside, and realizes that she is now alone with the horny, hybrid murder-monster. And also, that the recently departed Dr. Demento has the car keys on him! She makes a valiant attempt at retrieving them in order escape, but everything is coming up Ratman!


Marlis manages to put some wood between them (pardon the pun), but the Ratman claws through the door like it’s made of cardboard, which actually appears to be the case. Again, she stealthily gets away, and rewards herself by going into the fridge for a cold, refreshing Coca Cola Classic. Seriously! Meanwhile, Fred and Terry are still tooling around like a pair of idiots, trying to solve The Mystery of the Model’s Whereabouts.

Finally, day breaks back at the Rat Ranch. Marlis greets the dawn in a pair of pastel yellow shorts, and a flirty blouse tied at the midriff. Back to the fridge for some more… Ratman!!! Starsky and Hutch finally zero in on the missing model, just in time to find her lifeless corpse lying face-down and bloodied in the kitchen, having fallen prey to Ratman’s mighty paw.



The pair (who actually don’t seem that perplexed upon discovering Marlis’ body) head to the police station with some information that could crack those other homicide cases wide open. For some reason, the po-po just don't want to buy a story about a half-rat/half-monkey creature who feeds on human flesh. They are given Marlis' personal effects (which contain a Super Terrific Bonus Prize), and instructed to go back to America and get on with their lives.

All aboard Flight 106 to Ratsville! Please be sure to check all your flesh-eating monsters at the baggage claim. Thank you for flying Bloodcrazy Hybrid Airways, and have a safe and pleasant journey!





3/5 Kitty Skulls = Wait for this one to hit the Bargain Bin.


Saturday, July 26, 2008

Body Parts (1991)


Caution: Spoilers Galore!


Body Parts, directed by Eric Red (Bad Moon), looks promising from the very beginning. The opening titles feature a series of anatomy drawings (rendered in blood red, no less), set to to an award-winning, profoundly creepy arrangement by Loek Dikker. Mmmm... foreshadowing. Best of all, Jeff Fahey, the genre veteran with the piercing, blue eyes, appears in the list of players. Yes, it's Lawnmower Man! You may also remember him from such films as: Sketch Artist (with Sean Young and Drew Barrymore); and Sketch Artist 2 (with Courtney Cox, who fumbles in the role of a blind woman). Fahey. Need I say more?

Okay, since you asked so nicely...

Bill Crushank (Fahey) is an academic working on a prolific piece about "how demons are introduced to the self," and an expert in the field of criminal psychiatry. His charmed life with his beautiful wife, Karen (Kim Delaney), and their two mop-headed children is interrupted when he is involved in a horrific car wreck. Bill loses his arm as a result of the accident, but survives. The brilliant surgeon, Dr. Agatha Webb (Lindsay Duncan), approaches an overwrought Karen with the opportunity to replace her husband's severed arm with one that will come from a donor. Not a prosthetic, but an honest-to-goodness, flesh-and-bone arm. Karen's decision is a no-brainer, and the operation is soon underway.



In an OR that looks a bit like a military training facility (guns for everyone!), Bill finds himself lying on a table being prepared for surgery. Just before he is gassed into oblivion by the anaesthesiologist, he watches in horror as Dr. Webb, looking fresh in mint green, buzzes off the head of the "donor" with a bone saw. After a few lingering shots of the OR gadgetry (a medical fetishists dream), Bill finally loses consciousness. When he later awakens, he is looking more than a little worse for the wear, but the operation has been a success, and the rehabilitation phase of his stitch n' sew journey may now begin. He makes a remarkable recovery, and is sent home from the hospital to be with his family again.


Udo Kier's Kult Aktor Training Kamp


All better now, right? Wrong!

Bill begins to have bizarre, blood-stained visions, and makes unusually aggressive love to his wife. He's also not as steady with the razor as he once was, and he's got a super-short fuse when it comes to those little mop-headed, little bastards. To top it all off with a cherry, upon making a head-shrinking visit to a prison facility, he learns that his new arm was "donated" by a death row inmate; it says so on the tattoo which marks his inner-wrist.

Bill decides to bite the information worm. He has his buddies at the Police Department run his fingerprints, and discovers that the previous owner of his arm was most assuredly an associate of Satan. Understandably, Bill is distressed about the fact that he and Charlie Fletcher (John Walsh), murderer extraordinaire, have something so uniquely in common. He confesses to his wife that he thinks something has gone terribly wrong with the operation, but his surgeon later assures him:


"It's your arm now, not Charlie Fletcher's."




Bill decides to seek out some other recipients of Charlie's meat products to see if they have been picking up on the same weird vibes. Remo Lacey (Brad Dourif) is a slightly off-balance artist who has been suddenly and inexplicably inspired with dark, visceral images, which have catapulted his beleaguered career to the heights of a "searing, original talent." Remo is uninterested in Bill's concerns about the origin of their new body parts; he is preoccupied in the quest for his first million.


"Death... Transfiguration... Total re-birth!"




Back at home, things are getting much worse for Bill. He's fighting more and more with his wife, and finally blows his top and sucker-punches his young son clear across the room. While Karen is icing the kid's fat lip in the kitchen, Bill stands by himself, contemplating the monster he has become. To pick himself up emotionally after brutally nailing Little Billy (Nathaniel Moreau), he decides to check out Charlie Meat Recipient #2, Mark Draper (Peter Murnik), doing some fancy footwork on the basketball court with his new legs.



Bill is nonchalantly tailing Mark home from the game, when Mark's leg suddenly goes crazy and pounds on the gas. Narrowly averting a number of potentially-fatal crashes, Mark is finally able to pull his vehicle to the shoulder. Bill comes to check on Mark, who simply states that his foot "just stomped on the gas there, and I couldn't get it to hit the fuckin' brake." Bill can certainly empathize.



"My arm's been doing things on it's own, and something's wrong. Something's wrong with this operation, and I don't know what it is." He gives Mark his business card, and asks him to call if he decides that he wants to talk. Like Remo, Mark isn't interested in talking. He's just glad to have legs, and wants to get to steppin' with them. Bill is left utterly alone with his problem after he tries to strangle Karen in her sleep, and is thrown out of the house. He bids his children goodbye in a sugary Daddy's going crazy, but he still loves you speech, then steps up his efforts in the search for the bits and pieces of his flesh and blood brother, Charlie Fletcher.



He pays another visit to Dr. Webb, and pleads with her to remove the demon arm that she sewed on to him. Webb is unreceptive to his proposition, as the experimental surgery has placed her at the forefront of the scientific community.


"Can't you see this arm is killing me?!"




Bill is left with no other option but to go out drinking and philosiphizing with his brothers in arms (and legs), Remo and Mark. Everything looks better through beer goggles. Soon after the happy reunion (including a dynamite barroom punchfest with some of the local hicks), young Mark Draper's situation takes a tragic turn for the worse. He loses his legs, again, this time torn from his body by an unseen marauder.



Bill happens to be on the phone with Mark as this happens, and travels over to his apartment where he discovers the body. Bill must warn the others; Karen first, and then the weird artist, Remo. Unfortunately, while Bill is ensuring the safety of his wife and children, Remo is being chucked out a window, not to mention having his arm ripped off by, again, an unseen marauder. At this point, I am beginning to think it might be the same marauder that killed Mark. It could even be...




Charlie Fletcher, back to avenge his stolen apendages!!! He pulls up alongside the killer-catchin' mobile holding Bill and Detective Sawchuck (Zakes Mokae), and takes them on a crazy, handcuffed ride through the city at night. Yes, Charlie Fletcher is driving a car. It must have been some kind of screw-up at the MOT*/DMV. The killer-catchin' mobile finally frees itself of The Chuckwagon of Terror, leaving Bill and Sawchuck standing in the dust as they watch Fletcher speed away with some of his re-claimed limbs resting up on the dash. The Frankenstein-like Fletcher loses control of the vehicle, causing him to whine like a hamster before he crashes in a ball of fire.



Charlie pulls his prized killing limbs from the fiery disaster, and kneels before his doctor, arms full of his gory proposition. He wanted to be put back together again, and that bitch Dr. Webb was just crazy enough to do it for him.

From the drivers' seat of the killer-catchin' mobile, Bill pens what may be the final entry in his meticulously-kept journal. The life-and-limb battle (pun definitely intended) between Bill and Charlie Fletcher is on! He heads to Dr. Webb's laboratory, and beholds a most gruesome sight: all the pieces of Charlie Fletcher are prepped and ready to go. All that remains is the arm attached to Bill's shoulder, and the medical team is ready to take it from him now. Bill is filled with nothing but contempt for Webb's ghoulish work.


"Saving Charlie Fletcher's head,
so he can run around and kill people?
That's quite an achievement, doctor."





After a Charlie-delivered blow to the back of his head, Bill once again finds himself on Dr. Webb's operating table. Just before the bone saw tastes his flesh, he awakens from the anaesthetic and hulks-out in a fit of rage, busting through his restrains and lunging at Charlie like a panther! He snaps Charlie's neck, then puts high-powered rifle holes in all his bits and pieces, just to make it official. Dr. Death is also blown away in the excursion.


"It's my arm now, Chuck.
I won it, fair and square."




Based on the novel Choice Cuts by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac, Body Parts is a stick-to-your-ribs mixture of classic horror and science-fiction. It was nominated for Best Horror Film by the USA Academy of Science-Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror Films, and isn't nearly as bad as much of the press about it would indicate. There are a lot of bad reviews for this film floating about on the Intertubes, and I honestly don't think that all the harsh criticism is well-deserved. Say what you will about Jeff Fahey, but he is perfect in the justice-seeker under pressure role. Not afraid to emote from the very pit of his gut, he delivers some of the best facial expressions ever captured on film. Brad Dourif is another clear and obvious asset to the film, playing a half-cocked dickhead the way nobody else can.

While, at times, the scenes reeked heavily of fromage, the overall impact of the film was quite impressive. I have yet to watch this with anyone who isn't noticeably enthused by the time the final credits roll. The story had some definite weak spots, but the trick is to allow yourself to adapt to the fact that you are watching a Jeff Fahey movie, and everything should be fine after that. The special effects are decent; the explosions look like they cost a lot of money, and the gore was passable. I would have liked to see more of it, but that's somewhat of a tired refrain coming from me. Heap those guts on, don't be shy! I'm certainly not, when it comes to movie-magic entrails.





4/5 Kitty Skulls = Video cocaine!


* Ministry of Transportation. I'm a syrup-sucking Canadian, remember.