The Deuce comes to Chicago!

Speaking of film festivals and things I didn't have time to blog about last week, regular c14 contributors Michelle Clifford and Bill Landis, of Sleazoid Express & Metasex fame, are / have been hosting a series of grindhouse films that I wish I lived close enough to attend at Chicago's Music Box Theater.

For those who may be unfamiliar with the Clifford / Landis oeuvre, here's the official press release, culled from the SE website.

Michelle Clifford and Bill Landis authored the definitive book on exploitation films and Times Square culture, Sleazoid Express, a distillation sprung from their film magazine that was the first to chronicle the Deuce lifestyle during its 25 years of debauchery. Forty Second Street, known to its denizens as the Deuce, was the most lowdown, seen it all, done it all, grizzled sexual stalking ground in the world. Films offered a smorgasbord of fun, an emotional rollercoaster of highs and lows. Endorphins on the rise, euphoria, dysphoria, shock and unintentional laughter. The Blood Horror genre wanted to drive you insane and leave you with shocking memories. California Sleaze was a fantasy world populated by beautiful girls at the mercy of the twisted. The Hardcore XXX Roughies genre was a bastard marriage of sadomasochism peppered with wild psychosexual performances, the ultimate in wish fulfillment to a grateful offbeat audience. On the flip side, the Sexphobic genre was littered with characters and plots revolving around severe sexual fears and traumas. Eventually the wrecking ball turned everything into multiplexes and all manner of uninspired mall shops. The neutered Times Square. What lives there now? Disney. Time has finally caught up to exploitation. To celebrate Quentin Tarantino's genre tribute film Grindhouse, Clifford and Landis evoke the Deuce, raising it from its grave to appear at The Music Box. Landis (who had been a projectionist at Deuce grindhouses) and his partner in crime, Clifford, will be present to introduce each film, reminisce about the Deuce, and answer questions. Each film will be preceded by fun-filled theatrical trailers of shocking and juicy exploitation hits.

It's too late to catch the first two installments, which featured "the penultimate of the California Sleaze genre," Pets and I Drink Your Blood, a film that "exemplifies the Blood Horror genre with its fast, unrelentingly violent and sexually explicit shocks," but residents of the Windy City, or anyone else who happens to find themselves in the area over the next two weekends, still have time to catch the final two installments.

This week's feature is Toys Are Not For Children:

The masterpiece of the Sexphobic genre. A sexually arrested young woman works in a toyshop and sleeps with her dolls. Traumatized by her shrew mother and whoring drunken absentee father, she pathologically throws aside her ineffectual husband to reunite with her long lost Daddy. In her quest, she is led to hell by her prostitute Aunt and her worthless greasy pimp. A dirty pearl from the Sleazoid private family collection.

Next week it's Dominatrix Without Mercy:

The crown jewel of the Roughie genre from the Deuce's infamously malevolent Avon Productions. In a dominatrix's lair, we are treated to the possibilities that lead men to pay for professionals. Marlene Willoughby, a slender, severe sadist trains, chastises, and delivers fountains of liquid gold to her weepingly happy clientele. Jamie Gillis is a man in need of a tight rope and strong hard sexual healing. A true relic of the '70s Sleazoid ethos. Wanna come to a private party?

For more info. visit www.musicboxtheatre.com or www.sleazoidexpress.com

Bunny & The Kommandant do the Philadelphia Film Festival…

Spring has sprung here in Hostile City, despite the less than Spring-like temperature, and thus the Philadelphia Film Festival is in full bloom.

Technically it was in full bloom last week as well (the festival started on April 5th) but I was too busy to blog about it then. Plus there was nothing I wanted to go see last week. This week we've been blessed with a relatively light schedule and were able to find two PFF screenings we want to hit. Not to mention the fact that we're going to see Roky Erikson Sunday night in NYC. (And, PS: I am totally excited!) But I digress.

Friday night we're gonna go check out The Burglar at the Ritz 5; presented by Irv Slifkin. The Kommandant and I are big fans of only other "b noir" film we've seen starring Jayne Mansfield, Dog Eat Dog, and Jayne Mansfield in general, so this sounded like a winner.

Here's the blurb about it from the PFF website:

This classic example of a "B noir" was shot in and around Philadelphia and Atlantic City. Dan Duryea stars as the leader of a group of thieves (which includes Bryn Mawr native Jayne Mansfield) who steals a coveted necklace from a spiritualist living in a Main Line mansion. As tensions start to run high among the thieves, a couple of less-than-honorable cops appear on the scene leading to a chase along the Steel Pier. Adapted from his own story by David Goodis (writer of Truffaut's Shoot the Piano Player and Jacques Tourneur's Nightfall), this offbeat crime yarn was produced by Louis W. Kellman ("Diver Dan") and stylishly directed by Paul Wendkos (The Mephisto Waltz) in a flamboyant cinematic style reminiscent of Orson Welles at his most extravagant. Other highlights include appearances by local news legend John Facenda and the diving horse at the Steel Pier. We are proud to reintroduce this film in a pristine new 35mm print. Local author "Movie" Irv Slifkin will talk about the film and sign copies of his latest book "Filmadelphia: A Celebration of a City's Movies" (Middle Atlantic Press), which features The Burglar and over 100 other films made in and around our area.

Saturday afternoon we'll be heading to the Ritz East for the Philadelphia premiere of Viva. We've reviewed a bunch of these "suburban sin" type films over the years and, while they can be hit or miss, I'm very curious to see a modern take on this classically '70s style of sexploitation. Plus I'm developing a serious crush on the woman who wrote, produced, directed and stars in this film, Anna Biller.

Here's some information on that one, again from the PFF website:

Sure to be a future cult classic, the sheer audacity of Viva is something to behold. Anna Biller has single-handedly and lovingly created a campy sexploitation pic worthy of Russ Meyer, Radley Metzger and Hershel Gordon Lewis. Biller not only stars in the film, but collected all the set pieces and costumes and wrote and directed as well. The result is a swirling, boozy, large-breasted, semi-clad sexual odyssey that is vividly colorful, outrageously over-the-top and just a lot of breezy good fun. Biller stars as Barbi, a buxom housewife, who yearns to explore her sexuality. In the midst of the sexual revolution and with an adventurous friend along, she sets off in search of herself. Taking on the pseudonym "Viva" for her exploits, her journey lands her in a world of prostitution, nudist colonies, drugs, lesbianism and bohemian orgies. Viva's breathtaking color palate highlights Biller's set design of flamboyant 1970s "chic." Every detail is meticulously crafted, from the hilariously stilted performances right down to the copies of books like "Gynomite" sitting on shelves in this hilarious and nostalgic look at the innocent days when sex was still something "dangerous."

More woman on woman action - literally; new this week at the buffet…

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Woman on woman action; new this week at the buffet…

Once again the BMB spans the globe - or, in this week's case, the North American continent - to bring you a variety of sensational, or at least sensationalistic, sinema.

Head to Mexico with Bunny to revisit an oft-told tale of cursed crying women with kitschy atmospheric horror flick The Curse Of The Crying Woman.

And join The Kommandant on a whirlwind trip to the Big Apple where you'll go Walking In A Wishman Wonderland and test your limits with Doris' gender-bending extravaganza Let Me Die A Woman.

Euro fiends from beyond the grave; new this week at the buffet…

This week we have a trio of trash film from the land of pasta, Pisa and the Pope.

First we'll dig up the cinematic conundrum that is The Red Headed Corpse. Then we'll briefly sell our collective souls to the kitschy clutches of late '60s lost Euro-thriller Satanik. If we've still got room, we can revisit the previously reviewed film that rounds out this unholy trinity, The Faceless Monster.

Manga!

The Maddest Story Ever Told!

I don't know what the weather is like where you live today but here in Philly it is a rainy, snowy, sleet-y mess! In other words, a perfect day to stay home and watch movies. Since this evening's forecast seems to contain more of the same, I'd venture to say tonight would also be a good night to stay home and watch movies. With that in mind, should you find yourself around the TV around 2 AM EST, I highly recommend tonight's offering on The Underground, Spider Baby, by recent BMB feature subject Jack Hill.

To read the Kommandant's thoughts on this fine film - and, if you're so inclined, the rest of the feature - click here. (PS: Just in case anyone was wondering, the print version of this feature, as well as the issue of carbon 14 that surrounds it, should be back from the printer next week.)

Mucho Mario; new this week at the buffet…

As mentioned in my newly uploaded review of Mario Bava's Hatchet For The Honeymoon, I originally intended to feature this film as part of our Valentine's Day menu but couldn't find a rental copy. Fast forward to the present or, more accurately, the recent past (as in not last Saturday, but the Saturday before that) the Kommandant and I find ourselves at the Quakertown Flea Market. On our way to get some shrimp empanadas from the Caribbean joint that opened there last year, we pass the market's video store where we learn they're having a buy-two-get-one-free sale, intended to thin out their musty old VHS stock. Needless to say, I allowed him to talk me into making a pass through their stacks.

Well, OK, I didn't need that much convincing. But I was hungry and had to "use the facilities"; so first we ate, then I went to the bathroom. Then we went to the used / back issue magazine stand where I perused recent copies of Juxtaopz & Vogue Knitting and rejoiced in seeing one time c14 interviewee and longtime Philly punk Rich "Poor" Hoak on the cover of Metal Maniacs. Then I went looking for the husband and found him in the porn section.

There I unintentionally scared off an old biker couple and perused the assorted smut, particularly the copious amounts of African American and Latino porn magazines they've recently started carrying there (I had no idea there were so many!), as well as some of their "vintage" Playboys and copies of Outlaw Biker from the mid-'80s while the Kommandant flipped through copies of ITA, aka International Tattoo Art. (BTW, why do places like that always put tattoo mags in the porn section?) Anyway, then we went back to the video store.

We didn't have much money in our collective pockets, and agreed to limit ourselves to what we had in cash, before hitting the shelves separately to see what we could find. He headed straight for the horror section, while I opted to start with the shelf in front of me. It was their "cult" section and contained mostly Ed Wood and John Waters movies; both things I like, but not necessarily anything I haven't seen before or couldn't find elsewhere. Then I found myself in the biker section and immediately saw a copy of an obscure flick Thee Whiskey Rebel told us about ages ago, The Pink Angels. I wasn't looking for it specifically, but the oversized and severely out-dated plastic box was so damn big it overshadowed every other regular old cardboard box on the shelf.

I snapped it up (not like anyone else around me was that interested in it; I think the nerdy, overweight kid standing next to me was only there because that was the closest he'd ever been to a woman before) and when we met up again, the husband had a copy of the aforementioned Bava film in hand. Clearly we had found the two portion of our buy-two-get-one-free deal. For our third film we chose Devil's Possessed, starring none other than Paul Naschy.

To get back to this week's update, also new to the menu today is another Bava classic - the haunting, atmospheric, Gothic thriller Kill Baby Kill.

Black pits and golden vampires; new this week at the buffet…

The Kommandant dives into a made-in-Mexico tale of madness, murder, vengeance & terror, The Black Pit Of Dr. M.

Bunny returns to the vault of our If I Had A Hammer column and bears witness to a battle between a group of black belts and the forces of black magic, The Legend Of The 7 Golden Vampires.

Spy vs. spy vs. spy; new this week at the buffet…

This week the BMB spans the globe to bring you a variety of superfly spy-tastic sinema.

First, join The Kommandant as he channels his inner James Bond and survives both Assassination In Rome and Espionage In Tangiers.

Then join Bunny and dive into the tale of a magnificently silly secret agent, Le Magnifique.

Bunny goes to the Oscars; 2007 edition…

As some of you may know, I have a lot of jobs. I'd list them all for you but then we'd risk veering off topic - and I haven't even gotten near the topic yet. Plus it would just stress me out because then I would have to face the realization that there about twenty other things I should be doing right at this very moment, other than writing a post-Oscar blog post. Unfortunately, however, a post-Oscar blog post can't really be postponed seeing as how it has a small enough window of relevance as it is. Fortunately for my to-do list, I don't have a whole lot to say about this year's Oscars so this won't keep me, or you, occupied for too long.

To sum up the 2007 awards show in three words: it was boring. And predictable. (Except when the guy who played Captain Invincible won an award. I'm sure no one saw that coming; least of all Eddie Murphy.) But that would have been five words. In fact, the biggest surprise of the evening was how well I did on my filled-out-at-the-last-minute (and consisting mostly of blind guesses because I didn't see a single one of these movies) Oscar ballot. Normally the Kommandant has superior skills when it comes to figuring out the whims of voting Academy but this year his instincts failed him. I'm thinking it was the weather. (There was a snow / slush storm here in Philly yesterday afternoon, which may have clouded his judgment or otherwise interfered with his psychic abilities.) If the balance of our respective luck stays true to course, he should beat me soundly at Scrabble the next time we play. Which will then assure that I will beat him at mini-golf on our first round of '07. But I digress.

It was nice to see Forest Whitaker honored; I've always liked him. Ditto Martin Scorcese and Ennio Morricone but, in retrospect, those two honors seem a little irrelevant at this point. I mean, the rest of us acknowledged Scorcese as a brilliant filmmaker and Morricone as a brilliant composer a long time ago. Aren't they supposed to set trends in Hollywood? Speaking of which, let's move on to what we really watch the Oscars for: the fashion. Which was boring and predictable as well.

Oh how I long for the days before actresses had on-site stylists armed with cell phones who have people text messaging them reports on what ANTM's Mr. Jay just said about their client's outfit on E! so they can re-dress her a bit before her big moment. (How else do you explain the disappearance of that Patti Labelle circa Lady Marmalade inspired aluminum foil shrug thing that chick from Dreamgirls who is not Beyonce wore on the red carpet; meaning the one that was mysteriously absent when she sauntered up to the stage to receive her award a couple hours later. That shit was the highlight of the evening.)

In summation, none of the ensembles were enough to distract my attention away from the Women's Fashion Spring 2007 issue that came in yesterday's New York Times or the super cute shrug I'm knitting*. Nor was the event itself. I think that kind of says it all.

(*Just in case anyone is actually interested enough in what I'm knitting to look at that link, my version will be sans pointy things. No offense to the designer, who I think is wonderful. I'm just not a pointy triangle edging kind of girl. And, I'm sorry guys. I know this whole thing is way off topic. But I haven't had the time to start a knitting blog, due to the abundance of jobs I mentioned earlier, so I had nowhere else to write that. I couldn't help myself though, it had to be written! Finishing a sweater is one thing; finishing a sweater that actually fits great and looks good on you can make a person a little giddy.)

Screaming cryptic terror; new this week at the buffet…

Bunny grabs some earplugs and starts in on somewhat timid Euro-shocker And Now The Screaming Starts.

While The Kommandant peeks inside a cryptic, terrifying Crypt Of Terror and uncovers a non-sensical pairing of two completely unrelated flicks from the '70s, Land Of The Minotaur & Terror.

Melting Satanists and vengeful coal miners; new this week at the buffet…

Happy Valentine's Day everyone. I don't know what you've all got planned for this "holiday" but I hope it's fun. We don't have anything specific on our schedule today, aside from a swanky sounding dinner the Kommandant has planned for us. (The post dinner plans I have for him won't be discussed in public.) But we did both manage to clear our respective work schedules enough to take the rest of day off, which is definitely something to celebrate. Anywhoo, I have planned a special VD menu for you, our beloved buffet readers, as well; let's get to it so I can get back to that day off I was just talking about. Okey dokey?

For our appetizer, join me as we bathe in the Shatner versus Satan showdown, The Devil's Rain; also starring Vinnie Barbarino, Lt. McHale, and the dude from Green Acres.

Then, for our main course, join the Kommandant as he returns to The Decade That Dripped Blood and falls for first wave slasher flick My Bloody Valentine.

Lust Or Bust; not exactly new, but newly uploaded to the blog…

Did you know one year ago today, in the middle of a Noreaster inspired fit of boredom, I started the B-Movie Buffet Blog? It's true. Technically it was one year ago yesterday, but I don't really count that day since I didn't post anything, except a test sentence to see if it would work. (And it did! Take that Yahoo Groups.)

Our region was actually due for another big snowstorm this week, not today but Wednesday, AKA Valentine's Day 2007, which I thought would be appropriate. (I even heard our neighbor Andy - as mentioned in said first blog entry - revving up his woefully under-used snow blower this morning.) But alas, as of today's forecast at least, it seems like that won't be coming to pass.

At any rate, in honor of this snowless blog anniversary, and the impending St. Valentine's Day holiday, I present to you the second official Bunny's B-Movie Buffet column, in it's original CrimsonAndCherry.com form. (Sans my review of Vamipros Lesbos, which appears on our website in an expanded form.) Enjoy!

Ah, love… life's sweetest reward… fortunately for you readers that's all I remember from the theme from The Love Boat; and fortunately for me it's still enough to use it as the introduction to today's special menu at the B-movie Buffet.

As many of you probably know, Valentine's Day is this week. And whether you're married, dating or single; gay, straight, bisexual, asexual, a virgin or a stone cold hoochie - you'll need something to do on Valentine's Day. Hell, we all need something to do every day but let's not make ourselves crazy. One day at a time. For this particular Valentine's Day night may I recommend dinner and a movie? (And then maybe some other stuff that won't be discussed in this column; your sexual habits are your own business.)

Whether you hate love or love to love, everyone can appreciate a full tummy and a good flick. Which in my house means a good bad flick, and there's no shortage of those to salute romance gone right or wrong. In an effort to refamiliarize myself with some movies I saw years ago and now wanted to write about, the Kommandant and I spent the weekend before Valentine's Day watching these particular movies so we'll have to choose something else. You didn't though, so if you're in the mood for some grade B spice, pick one of these tales of the lusty and / or love-lorn and dive-in.

Bride Of The Monster (Image Entertainment) You cannot talk about B-movies without mentioning Ed Wood at some point. Well, I suppose you could, but I'd really prefer that you didn't. In honor of today's theme I've chosen this timeless tale of love, power and a giant man-killing octopus. Bela Lugosi plays Dr. Vornoff, a mad scientist with an evil plan (what self-respecting mad scientist doesn't have an evil plan?) and, thanks to his one successful experiment, an unusually strong assistant / henchman named Lobo. (Played by Tor Johnson.) But all is not well in the dilapidated castle on the edge of town they call home. Poor Lobo isn't complete. Henchmen need love too, you know; and then there's Dr. Vornoff's lust for control of the universe. Not to worry, the doctor's got a plan that can kill those two birds with one stone. Step one: find a pretty young lass and give her superhuman strength. Step two: mate said lass with Lobo and viola—a race of atomic super people under the doctor's command. Finding the woman is the easy part, beat reporter Janet Lawton practically falls right into Vornoff's lap while trying to get the first scoop on the "other monster" the town is living in fear of. (Remember the octopus?) Will Janet's fiancee arrive in time to rescue his love or will she become the bride of the monster? There's only one way to find out.

Suburban Roulette (Something Weird) Some say love was a whole different ballgame back in the swingin' '60s. Maybe they're right; I wouldn't know, I was born in 1970. If this movie (dubbed one of the sleaziest movies in the history of the world by Joe Bob Briggs) is any indication, the term love thy neighbor certainly had a whole different meaning in some neighborhoods in the late sixties. At least the neighborhoods where there was a lot of wife swapping. And wouldn't you know, that just happens to be the kind of neighborhood the Fisher family settles down in. At first, suburban living seems like the perfect salve for their wounded love; he's promised to give up drinking and she, to stop fooling around with other men. Sounds reasonable enough but, as we soon see, easier said than done. Within minutes of arriving at their new home they're greeted by a friendly neighbor who invites them to a bar-b-que. Maybe in the city that would be an innocent enough invitation but out here in the 'burbs sin is in, baby, and soon after meeting all their new neighbors, Burt starts throwing back drinks like it's New Years Eve while Eileen canoodles in the corner with the hostesses hunky husband. And that's just the start of the sexual shenanigans. Surprisingly enough, even suburban swingers eventually tire of that routine and end up resorting to good ol' fashioned monogamy instead. Except Eileen, she goes nuts and o.d.'s on pills; but the other couples go back to monogamy, and presumably so do Burt and Eileen once she regains consciousness. Awwww. Love, one; whorin' around, zero.

Tromeo And Juliet (Troma) OK, remaking Romeo and Juliet is not the most original idea but Troma's Lloyd Kaufmann has made a career out of leaving no obvious cinematic stone unturned. In fact, it's surprising he waited until '97 to give it a shot, but when there are so many Toxic Avenger sequels to make, you've got to budget your time. So what's to set this apart from the other film versions of the same timeless tale? Well, for one thing Lemmy isn't in any of those other versions. (In this one, he serves as the chorus. For those of you not versed in all things Shakespearean, the chorus speaks only to the audience and kind of fills in the gaps and moves the story along.) The other thing that sets it apart is that it's made by Troma. They are legitimate B-Movie making / producing legends and this particular movie prominently features pretty much every aspect of the unique brand of cinematic magic that has made them famous - lots of nudity, gore, sex, "special effects," carefully placed inside jokes, etc. I suppose they could have really gone all the way and made Tromeo some kind of mutant with a giant prostethic something but - hey, it's Shakespeare. Even Kaufmann's gotta pay Bill his props. The story does get somewhat Troma-tized though. (If you will.) Long forgotten is the real reason the Montagues and Capulets hate each other; in this 20th Century version, set in New York City's Lower East Side, the patriarchs of the Que and Capulet families were once partners in exploitation filmmaking. When Capulet blackmails Que into signing away his rights to their films a bitter, bitter feud ensues. Years later, when innocent young buck Tromeo spies the lovely, lithe Juliet at a costume party, love / lust turns everything even more topsy turvy. (As love / lust is wont to do.) I won't give the whole plot away, to see what happens to our star crossed lovers you'll just have to investigate for yourself. I have to hand it to Troma with this one, they definitely pulled out all the stops while attempting, and succeeding, in putting their own stamp on an oft told story.

Wham, Bam, Thank You Spaceman (Something Weird) From the oh-so-kooky mind of Harry Novak comes Wham, Bam, Thank You Spaceman, a completely and utterly wacky softcore sci-fi "comedy." (I use the term loosely as most comedies are funny and this movie isn't necessarily.) You know you're in for a wild ride when you get introduced to the two leading "males," Sergeant Jack-off and Private Asshole, as they get their assignments. (They're aliens, wear full costumes through the whole film and don't have normal genitalia; I'd elaborate but why spoil it?) Their goal is fairly simple: impregnate earth women to propagate their species. But seeing as how they have funky genitalia and all, first they have to observe us strange earthlings and our stranger mating rituals. Then, after that, they get their alien freak on with a wide array of fortunate (or unfortunate depending on your outlook) ladies until their mission is complete and alien babies are being born into Los Angeles county hospitals like it ain't no thing. Way to go vulgar spacemen! I definitely wouldn't recommend this to the B-Movie novice, you need to have seen at least one other Harry Novak film—and liked it—in order get anywhere near appreciating this. (Be forewarned, the dialogue is awful. Awful!) But if you think you've seen it all in the realm of badfilm and you haven't seen this your mission, my earthbound friend, is not yet complete.

Bunny & The Kommandant Meet The Aztec Mummy... Collection; new this week at the buffet...

This week we get wrapped up in the trilogy of tomb dwelling terror that is The Aztec Mummy Collection, featuring La Momia Azteca, AKA Attack Of The Aztec Mummy; La Maldicion De La Momia Azteca, AKA Curse Of The Aztec Mummy; and La Momia Azteca Contra El Robot Humano, AKA The Robot VS. The Aztec Mummy.

Franco-A-Go-Go revisited; new this week at the buffet…

New to the menu this week we have a double dose of Franco-phonic film, sure to satisfy the hunger of the most discerning Eurotrash fan.

First up, join The Kommadant in getting bitten by Franco's literal take on the tale of the world's most famous vampire, Count Dracula.

Then join me as we travel back in time to the swingin' '70s where we'll be slayed by Jess' ode to sexadelic homicidal revenge, She Killed In Ecstasy.

Happy Birthday To Us…

As mentioned in a previous post, we here at the B-Movie Buffet have a few different anniversaries that mark various starting points in our relatively brief existence but I would be remiss if I didn't point out that today is the website's official birthday, as it was exactly two years ago today that I uploaded the "alpha" version of the site. (Being an alpha woman, I never bothered to attempt a beta version.) I don't have a whole lot else to say on that subject except - yay!

Thanks to all of our contributors, the kind people / companies that send us DVDs to review each and every week and, of course, our readers (if you're reading this, that means you!) for your support and encouragement.

2007: The Year Exploitation Movies Broke, Again?

As if Grindhouse weren't enough to look forward to in 2007, I stumbled across this most exciting news blurb while reading the Fangoria post posted by Dante that inspired our last blog entry. Normally I'm not really in favor of re-making classic films that don't need to be re-made but even I can't wait to see what this dude does with The Wizard Of Gore; the fact that Crispin Glover plays Montag is the goopy, congealed icing on this surely bloody cake.

Speaking of HG Lewis - which is always a good thing, right? - the other day I was looking through the Kommandant's mighty vinyl archive and I was surprised to stumble across this Blood Feast / Two Thousand Maniacs soundtrack LP. (Pictured at right.)

You might be surprised to think that after 11 years of marriage I would find anything surprising in my husband's many collection(s); but if you have a spouse like mine - you know, the kind of spouse who regularly frequents record bins at flea markets & thrift stores and / or who has many collections - maybe you wouldn't. By the way, I suppose it's technically my vinyl archive as well; since we're married and all. Plus all of the vinyl records I came into the marriage with are filed in somewhere amongst the many stacks. But I don't know… much like the kitchen, this area of the house kind of seems to be mostly his domain to me, as he spends the most time and effort stocking and tending to it. I do frequent both areas for recreational purposes though. (PS: don't worry about me; I've got my own areas of the house.)

Of course, after unearthing it I had to listen to it. And, as one might imagine, it was pretty awesome, and hilarious, and awesomely hilarious. Fortunately for those of you who are not married to a person with a vinyl fetish, someone (whoever owns Birdman Records I guess) had the forethought to put this stuff on what appears to be an easily accessible CD, The Eye Popping Sounds of Herschell Gordon Lewis, which features all of the tracks from the LP plus a selection of other assorted musical gems from other assorted HG Lewis movie gems like She Devils On Wheels and Suburban Roulette. Interested parties can check out some samples of this fine release here.

The Grindhouse vs. The Underground

I don't know about anybody else, but I'm starting to get a little excited about the prospect of this upcoming Robert Rodriguez / Quentin Tarantino venture, Grindhouse. As some of you may know, I have a bit of a love / hate thing - and, sometimes just a hate / hate thing - with ol' QT but this film very well might be enough to bring me over to the dark side. If you haven't heard about the film(s), check out this article from today's New York Times.

While perusing said article I also learned the IFC channel has been showing some sort of series of "grindhouse" films, as part of their aptly named Grindhouse series, Friday nights at midnight. Of course, Comcast doesn't carry the IFC channel so we can't watch it - oddly enough, I even had trouble loading the IFC's website - but if your carrier does, check it out & let me know what I'm missing.

I'm assuming this is IFC's answer to The Underground, TCM's Friday night B-Movie series hosted by part-time rocker, part-time movie maker, full-time sexy bitch Rob Zombie. And before we totally get off the topic of Grindhouse, the movie, according to Fangoria Mr. Zombie's contribution is what looks to be an awesome trailer for a movie that will sadly never, ever be made (unless Grindhouse does really, really, well), Werewolf Women Of The SS. Thanks to Dante @ Exploitation Retrospect for blogging about this, and therefore alerting me to it's existence.

Anywhoo, Comcast does carry TCM and I have to admit, the Kommandant & I often find ourselves in bed with the TV on around 2 AM on a Friday night, so we've caught a few of their offerings and can attest, they've shown some good stuff on there. Many of these fine films have been reviewed on our own humble website; The Fall Of The House Of Usher, Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, Mudhoney and Wild Guitar, to name a few. This past Friday night they even went so far as to dare show two of the Kommandant's favorite so-bad-they're-"good" films, the mind numbing double feature of Billy The Kid Versus Dracula and Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter; the latter of which also has the distinction of being dubbed "The Worst Film Of All Time" by BMB / c14 contributor Peter Santa Maria.

Via this series we've also caught a couple of flicks we'd always wanted to see but never actually got around to seeing, like The Conqueror Worm and The Honeymoon Killers. (Both highly recommended.) I think The Underground is on a hiatus of sorts during the month of February (in lieu of the channel's 31 Days Of Oscar programming) but returns on March 9th with I Bury The Living.

From spider babies to switchblade sisters; new this week at the buffet…

As promised in our last update / blog post, this week we are pleased to present the first official peek at the contents of carbon 14 #29, our salute exploitation auteur Jack Hill, So Hard To Kill, So Easy To Love. We'll be very, very pleased when the issue is actually back from the printer and out in the mail, but that's not gonna happen for another few weeks. Anywhoo, on behalf of myself & the Kommandant - enjoy!

Cheerleaders, satanic and swinging; new this week at the buffet…

Last week the BMB "staff" was saddened to hear of the passing of Yvonne De Carlo; best known to us, and most of the world, as Lily Munster of TV's The Munsters. With this in mind I decided to honor her memory by watching (and writing a review of) the first movie that always pops into my head whenever I think of movies featuring Yvonne De Carlo, aside from Munster, Go Home, Satan's Cheerleaders.

Also new to the menu this week we have another, decidedly different, take on the pom-pom genre, The Swinging Cheerleaders; directed by none other than Jack Hill. This review was originally due to appear in the next issue of carbon 14, as part of our salute to the cinematic genius of Jack Hill, but it wouldn't fit. Plus, in all honesty, I didn't think the movie - unlike so many of his other films - had much cinematic genius to it. On the other hand, I hate to see a review go to waste. Speaking of c14, tune in next week for the full column, AKA the first official peek at the contents of #29.