Bikini Carwash Company II (1993) – Gary Orona.

They say lightning never strikes twice, but I'm sure human lightning rod, and ex-forest ranger Roy Sullivan would beg to differ, happily, the creamy-delicious cheesecake formula of bodaciously bouncy beach bunnies goofing-off in peek-a-boo bikinis doesn't appear all too troublesome to replicate. Distractingly busti Kristi Ducati and her luridly lingerie-clad clique have their Carwash franchise bought from right under their perfect 10 attributes; will our pneumatic pop-tarts be able to raise the 4 mill required to keep hold of their sizeable assets? Bikini Carwash Company II's frantically frolicsome antics raunchily does its level breast to flesh out its paltry premise. Ravishingly buxom brunette Melissa's statement 'that money isn't everything', while banal, proves unquestioningly true, as scandalously soap-slathered, prodigiously perky, arbitrarily top-popping, playfully cavorting starlets are far better! While this takes a less grindingly crass approach to bawdy, Bikinisploitation jackanapes, the goofy, Brady Bunched, soft-bonking buffoonery proved episodically amusing. There is a certain integrity to unapologetically exploitative fare like the generously babe-stuffed Bikini Carwash Company sequel, the garish, nudie-cutie artwork truthfully suggests punters will enjoy a squeegee-brained, relentlessly hair-metalled hootenanny of hard-bodied hooters!

 UFOs: It has Begun (1979/76) – Ray Rivas.

The greatly cherished writer/TV Avatar Rod Serling hosts/narrates this fascinating UFO documentary, consummately aided by the estimable dramatical talents of Jose Ferrer and Burgess Meredith. As an avid, life-long consumer of vintage documentaries examining the multifarious mysteries of unexplained aerial phenomena, cypto-science, and alien interventions of varying degrees of credibility, I appreciated the palpably sober approach of UFOs: It Has Begun. Rivas's exemplary documentary arguably remains one of the rarer examples of an empiric, rigorously fact-based document studying the myriad aspects of alleged extra terrestrial phenomena. While it is purely subjective on my part, the use of 16mm, analogue animations, and a functional, no-frills approach to film-making remains far more appealing than the dully drone-centric, AI/CGI/HD, busily edited, Ancient Aliened hypothesizing Slop so prevalent today. Fans of Ufology should find enormous value in the measured contributions of trailblazing luminaries Dr. Jacques Vallee, and Joel Allen Hyneck especially edifying. Concluding on a more personal note, as one who values his work, Robert Ememenegger provided much of the text, and composed the score for Ray Rivas's compelling, otherworldly suggestive UFOs: It Has begun.

 The Bikini Carwash Company (1992) – Ed Hansen.

An ailing L.A Car Wash is about to fall on its ass, when some future tycoon cheekily initiates a bodacious increase in T&A, and, unsurprisingly, this additional display of nubile pulchritude soon puts the business bouncily in the pink! If y'all keep your brain in the toilet for the duration, this synthetically smutty, day-glow, slap-sticky workplace romp actively provides a salacious preponderance of aerobicized female fecundity. The dramatic content remains flimsier than the perky parade of hot-bodied babes string bikini's, with 'comedy' stylings that would have been dismissed as old hat during Mack Sennet's heyday, The Bikini Carwash Company's dazzlingly unapologetic display of plasticity is arguably good for a beer-goggled oner. While I'm certainly not proud of the admission, but I could never be fundamentally opposed to any bawdy bikini bonanza that featured such refined repartee as 'I'll cover your boobs!', 'Over my @ss!', and its winning retort 'You lazy bum!'. I must contradict the deluded fellow, as I can't readily recall a more energised display of extremely busy bottoms! Seen today, this may be objectively described as a tawdry, inexcusably crude, boorishly exploitative, booty-centric barrel scraper, but if your grasp on reality is no less tenuous than mine, The Bikini Carwash Company presents itself as a refreshing, top-popping tonic against the zeitgeist's smut-blocking Political Correctitude. In conclusion, more forgiving fans of exceptionally crass Americana, a cameo by B-Movie impresario Jim Wynorski, and the shrill hair metal buffoonery of Shake City might appreciate this bawdy Bikini bombshell more than others.

 Alien Apocalypse (2005) – Josh Becker.

'You like wood so much, eat this!!!!'

When astronauts Dr. Ivan Hood (Bruce Campbell) and Lt. Kelly Lanaman (Renee O'Connor) return after a cryogenically-enhanced 40 year long mission, any hopes for much needed RNR is royally fubar'd by the grim reality of an alien takeover. Needless to say, both of our intrepid space trekkers are militantly bummed, press-ganged into slave labour camps, Dr. Ivan and the plucky Lt. Lanaman attempt to rabble rouse the enslaved humans to take up arms against their alien oppressors. Alien Apocalypse remains very much on the good side of goofy, a fun, retro Sci-fi romp, the 70s version would have perhaps featured Doug McClure, but I kinda prefer the signature studly wise-Assery of Horror's most heroically handsome head-knocker, the beautifully bestubbled scourge of these ornery insectoid malefactors.

The playful ironical tone is engagingly maintained throughout, with Campbell delivering a typically out-sized performance as 'The Great Healer', wholly credible as the courageous bug slayer, bloodily earning the moniker of 'The Great Exterminator'. It's been a minute since I last enjoyed a bona fide throwback, bug-eyed B-Movie monster mash, psychotronically replete with gruesomely head-chomping, green-goo spurting, eco-unfriendly aliens. I almost can't believe I'm about to say this, but the CGI'd creatures are kinda okay, I think the director having the enslaved humans sporting hellaciously fake beards/fright-wigs actually made the aliens look pretty sweet in comparison! In conclusion, as expected, Bruce Campbell rocks like vintage Girlschool, but I'm still in two minds about the purloined 'Im Spartacus!' business, and from the look on Bruce's boatrace, I think he had his doubts too!

 Watchers II (1990) – Thierry Notz.

'I told you to stay out of the basement!!!!!'

AWOL marine Paul (Marc Singer) meets (almost) cutely with supremely gifted canine Einstein, unaware that they are being hunted by a grossly deformed mutant anthropoid assassin, compelled to destroy the dog and kill any who befriend it. I'm not a super-fan of the Corey Haim/Michael Ironside original, but I still appreciate it, and by casting the iconic Beastmaster in its explosive sequel, with its genetically enhanced beasts feels entirely appropriate, factor in Tracy Scoggins, the lovely Irene Miracle, and you have an eminently watchable treat. Dynamic 90s DTV Sci-splatter Watchers II begins kinetically, rigorously maintaining momentum until its no less zesty climax. While unabashedly midnight movie fare, Thierry Notz's high-voltaged Sci-actioner frequently exemplifies all that is truly compelling about thrillingly bloody, slam bang, Sci-fi/horror pulp!

The horror movie sequels that prove successful are usually those that ultimately replay the strengths of the original, and Watchers II presents the far from ubiquitous example of a sequel proving to be demonstratively more entertaining than the original. It is certainly no surprise that Watchers II's credibility comes from the engaging screen chemistry between Tracy Scoggins, a buff Marc Singer, and Einstein, the adorably precocious Golden retriever. For me, Watchers II boisterously ticked all the right boxes, likeable, sympathetic heroes, muscular, bullet-blasted action, gnarly monster, a whip-crack pace, and a brusingly violent, yet demonstrably pathos-adjacent finale. If there proved to be a spankingly remastered Blu-ray edition of Watchers 1 & 2, I'd be all over it like shill reviews on Trust Pilot.

 Shakma (1990) – Hugh Parks/Tom Logan.

'Shakma is one severely sanguineous simian!'

'When mega-dosed beasts go bonkers!' has a proven track record in B-Horror/schlock, with Link, Monkey Shines, Dogs, and Killing Birds' being personal faves. I would have given Shakma a shot based solely on the innate prettiness of stars Amanda Wyss and Christopher Atkins, with icon Roddy McDowell making it a no-brainer. During an elaborate evening's live-action role-playing game, an activity teens enjoyed pre-memes, synthetic drugs, and sleazy dating aps, Sam's (Christopher Atkins) baboon goes ballistic, reacting super-murderously to a procedure by Professor Sorensen (Roddy McDowell). According to the text baboons are the most brutal primate next to man, thereby suggesting the protagonists have nothing to worry about, since the odds must surely be in their favour as earth's most destructive predator?

Happily, Shakma ignores its own rationale, and let's the bellicose baboon go absolutely monkey ape nuts! If Shakma were made today, it would, perhaps, be an Asylum dirge, starring Eric Roberts as the game master, with a CGI'd travesty as Shakma, which makes the 90s Shakma objectively more cherishable. In my psychotronically distorted mind, I'll always make room for batso B-horror baboon! Even as a wee one, I always thought Baboon's looked pretty bad-ass, sorry, red ass, and Shakma boisterously provides some old school monkey magic! I can readily see why Shakma has maintained a fanbase over the years, as I had a blast rewatching this feral, awesomely teed off primate tear up the joint! It might simply be wishful thinking, but I'm sure that Shakma momentarily had a simian stiffy? In conclusion, Shakma remains a fun time-killer, but I can't help think Sam's exceedingly bloody ordeal might set him up for a serious case of PTSD?

 Alison's Birthday (1981) – Ian Coughlin.

'It can't hurt you, everybody does it!'

Reluctantly coming home to celebrate her 19^th birthday, Alison (Joanne Samuel) is drawn into the malefic machinations of a Celtic devil cult in Aussie occult horror gem Alison's Birthday. I think it's fair to say that horror films produced down under have a singular kink that separates them from the mainstream, Thirst, and Body Melt provide excellent examples of Australian's unique take on horror cinema, with Ian Coughlin's Folk Horror creeper, arguably one of its more neglected antipodean classics. The arcane blarney of The Occult has ably provided enough nightmare fuel to power many great, and not so great fright-flicks, with Coughlin's eerie pagan shocker being one of the more memorable examples of suburbanised deviltry. While the text is of the common or garden variety pulp, the cast's performances, and atmospheric soundtrack are especially fine, with Alison providing for a sweetly sympathetic protagonist, and I still have a penchant for vintage, sinisterly Stone-Henged chillers. Alison's Birthday often has a TV movie-of-the-week aesthetic, but it remains hugely entertaining, especially with its white bread coven of dotty celebrants, looking spiffy in their natty ritualistic robes of obeisance. While Alison's Birthday is not one of your expressly lurid, sexy Satan shag-fests, it nonetheless provides a suitably macabre, Dennis Wheatley'd climax.