Tag: Exploitation Flick

Shitty Movie Sundays: The Thirsty Dead

The Thirsty Dead movie posterWhat The Thirsty Dead is not: a film about zombies, or vampires, or other undead creatures preying on the innocent and spilling buckets of fake blood. There is no gore, and no more than a few dollops of blood. Despite this being from 1974, the wheelhouse for drive-in movie exploitation, there is no nudity, gratuitous or otherwise, despite four main cast members being young(-ish), buxom(-ish) ladies.

What The Thirsty Dead is: a film with a misleading title. That happens often with shitty movies. It’s a crime compounded by the fact that not only is this movie not about thirsty dead things, it’s not even a horror flick. There are horror elements to the plot, but there just isn’t enough for this film to cross over into that hallowed genre. This is just exploitation schlock, done poorly. Exploitation films are supposed to be downright sleazy — a guilty pleasure that will get one strange looks from the ideological purity police. This film flirts with sleaze, but never commits. Seriously, what kind of exploitation film needs zero edits to be suitable for commercial television? Continue reading “Shitty Movie Sundays: The Thirsty Dead”

Shitty Movie Sundays: Devil’s Express, aka Subway to Hell, aka Gang Wars

What a strange movie. Usually, when a film tries to be too many genres at once, the result is a jumbled mess that takes too many shortcuts, and is difficult to follow. That’s a good description of Devil’s Express (released under a number of other titles), the 1976 blaxploitation/martial arts/street gang/monster flick from director Barry Rosen, and screenwriters Rosen and Niki Patton. But, we like jumbled messes here at Shitty Movie Sundays. The closer a film comes to flying apart at the seams, the better. Continue reading “Shitty Movie Sundays: Devil’s Express, aka Subway to Hell, aka Gang Wars”

October Horrorshow: Pieces

At first glance, Pieces, the 1982 slasher flick from shitty auteur Juan Piquer Simón, is just like every other bottom-feeding Italian film that flooded the American market in the 1980s. Except for one thing. Pieces is not an Italian flick. It’s from Spain. All the hallmarks of a Lucio Fulci or Enzo G. Castellari film are present. The cast is from all over the map. Many read their lines in their native tongue, everyone was dubbed in post, and there was a cavalier attitude towards making sure if any of it synced. The production is low rent, but there’s lots of blood, and it’s so bright one could use it to see by night. And, while it takes place in the United States, it was very clearly filmed in Europe. So, just why does this film have the appearance of cheap Italian cinema of the day? Continue reading “October Horrorshow: Pieces”

October Horrorshow: The Slumber Party Massacre

One part sleaze and one part slasher flick (which probably makes it all sleaze, now that I think about it), The Slumber Party Massacre works hard to tick every box when it comes to 1980s horror. Teenagers, an enraged killer, blood, etc. Instead of filling empty spots with plot, director Amy Holden Jones went with gratuitous nudity. The teenaged boy still lurking in me was thrilled. The mature, objective reviewer in me was also thrilled. When in Rome…

Released in 1982, The Slumber Party Massacre tells everything a viewer needs to know about the plot in its title. There is a slumber party, and a killer looking to massacre everyone at it. Continue reading “October Horrorshow: The Slumber Party Massacre”

Shitty Movie Sundays: Turkey Shoot, aka Escape 2000

At first glance, a viewer could be forgiven if they thought Turkey Shoot, also released as Escape 2000 in the US, comes to us via an Italian master of shitty cinema such as Enzo G. Castellari or Alfonso Brescia. Turkey Shoot has the same look and feel, but it hails from Australia.

Directed by Brian Trenchard-Smith, from a screenplay by Jon George and Neill D. Hicks, Turkey Shoot takes place in a near future where an unnamed fascist regime has control over vast swathes of humanity. Like in all good totalitarian states, citizens who insist on holding onto their personal freedoms are sent to reeducation camps. Turkey Shoot follows the tribulations of the three newest detainees at Camp 47. Continue reading “Shitty Movie Sundays: Turkey Shoot, aka Escape 2000″

Shitty Movie Sundays: Truck Stop Women

Truck Stop Women movie posterWhat a relentless pile of exploitative schlock. They don’t make them like this, anymore. The combination of online mob outrage, and the actual progressive growth of our morals, makes a flick like this a difficult proposition in the 21st century. Even watching this film, and a whole plethora of its contemporaries, can make a viewer feel a little squirrely, as if they were doing something wrong. This is one of those flicks that can make a person feel ashamed of being entertained. But, in for a penny, in for a pound. Truck Stop Women is wonderfully shitty.

From way back in 1974, Truck Stop Women tells the story of a truck stop/whorehouse in New Mexico, and its madam’s efforts to stave off mob competition. It’s a flick that wallows in its shittiness, from the low-rent country music soundtrack (all songs performed by Bobby Hart — my personal favorite track was Bullshippers), to its southern AND Italian stereotypes, to its bottom-of-the-barrel cast, and endless gratuitous nudity.

As gratuitous nudity goes, the nudity in this flick might be among the most gratuitous I’ve ever seen. Sure, much of the flick takes place in a whorehouse, and one would expect to see a few breasts here and there. But there’s a segment in this film that is basically a Bobby Hart music video montage, and some boob flashes made the cut. It’s the very definition of gratuitous, which dictionary.com has as “being without apparent reason, cause, or justification.” The breasts are everywhere, in all shapes and sizes. And they were glorious to behold. I write of the breasts not from some sanctimonious high ground, but because they are an essential and inescapable aspect of this shitty movie. There are so many bared breasts in this movie that a network TV cut would clock in at less than an hour. Continue reading “Shitty Movie Sundays: Truck Stop Women”

Shitty Movie Sundays: Caged Heat

Caged Heat movie posterWhat a piece of trash. I’ve written before that it’s folly to impose present morality on the past, and that includes living memory. But in this day and age, should someone try and make a film like Caged Heat, they might end up having to register as a sex offender. At the very least, Twitter would be apoplectic…for perhaps a week, before moving on to the next outrage.

From 1974, Caged Heat was future Oscar winner Jonathan Demme’s first foray in the director’s chair. Before this, he had written and produced a pair of exploitation flicks for Roger Corman and New World Pictures. This flick is also part of the Corman stable, although one won’t find his name in the credits. His fingerprints are all over it, though. From the gratuitous nudity that crosses over into crudity, to the pervading cheapness in fealty to ruthless cost-cutting, this is as much a Corman as a Demme flick.

Also written by Demme, Caged Heat follows the trials and tribulations of the inmates of the Connerville Correctional Institute for Women. Demme may have ‘written’ a ‘screenplay,’ but putting any effort into following the plot is a waste of time for the viewer. The story is just about the least important and engaging aspect of this flick. The purpose of this film was to make a quick buck by satisfying the more animalistic desires of its viewers. There is plenty of full-frontal nudity to satisfy all the young, teenaged boy’s desire for the female figure, should they not have had an older brother with a Penthouse stashed behind his headboard. I counted four(!) shower scenes. Of course, I’m writing of the past. The internet has made pseudo-smut like this unnecessary, and somewhat quaint. Continue reading “Shitty Movie Sundays: Caged Heat”

Shitty Movie Sundays: Women’s Prison Massacre, aka Emanuelle Escapes From Hell, aka Blade Violent – I violenti

In the annals of shitty cinema, the 1980s saw the Italians holding the world championship crown. Between Enzo G. Castellari, Joe D’Amato, and Lucio Fulci, American b-flicks just didn’t stand a chance. Bruno Mattei is another filmmaker who can be added to this list of sublime cinematic futility. His 1983 film, Women’s Prison Massacre, also released as Emanuelle Escapes From Hell, among a couple of other titles, is an unbelievable piece of shit. Not only is it bottom feeding trash, it’s sexually exploitative. Being a film about a women’s prison, that’s to be expected. But there is also a cut floating around out there with hardcore porn, using body doubles of the cast, stitched into the R-rated sex scenes. I didn’t see that cut because, believe it or not, I wanted to watch this dog for the plot. Continue reading “Shitty Movie Sundays: Women’s Prison Massacre, aka Emanuelle Escapes From Hell, aka Blade Violent – I violenti”

October Horrorshow: The Toolbox Murders

There’s nothing quite like a 1970s exploitation horror flick. That’s not a compliment. Often such films can be entertaining if there’s a sick spot a viewer needs to scratch, but just as often it can leave a viewer feeling a little filthy by the time the credits roll. Such is the case with today’s film. Continue reading “October Horrorshow: The Toolbox Murders”