Little Deaths (2011) – Andrew Parkinson/Simon Rumley/Sean Hogan.

This tantalizing triptych of tweaked terror remains a true sleazehound's delight! If Little Deaths had been released during the faux moral panic of the video nasty flap, Mary Whitehouse would most certainly have made a copy, and wanked herself to death over it! In reality, splatter without filth, is like a hard veto on greasy bum-love, it just ain't cricket, guy. Little Deaths is deliciously cruel, and full-on sexy in all the wrong places, which is why I adore it so unabashedly. Not only is it exhilaratingly horny, it is partially educational, as alien, monstrously elephantine phalli do indeed prodigiously discharge a dangerously hallucinatory semen. Little Deaths had me bang to rights at the big Willie'd Nazi mutant segment, Hey!!!! give it a shot, we all need a nasty little spurt of sinister spunk every now and again. No film's integrity, or watchability is ever truly diminished by featuring a drunk, cuckolded dude in a doggie mask taking a vengeful whizz on his skeezer girlfriend's knickers! I've seen Little Deaths many times, and I've seen certain sequences even more than that, it all helps to keep me spunky, and spunky is wellness!

Campton Manor (2024) – Cat Hostick.

While it is far from an exact science, but in many cases one can, quite frequently judge a film by the quality of the attendant trailers, and, happily, the inclusion of an Asylum trailer belies the fact Campton Manor is a doable supernatural spine-tingler. Mediumistic horror novelist (Shaun Roberts) is tasked by a pale, mysterious gentleman (Jason London) to investigate the open case of ill-fortuned Campton Manor, wherein a house-full of new year's eve revellers were killed by person, or persons unknown. With robust performances, a quality text, and one especially electric jump-scare, Campton Manor 'Shined' brighter than I expected, proving to be an altogether haunting, compellingly Stephen King'd chiller. With distant echoes of Angel Heart and Jacob's Ladder, the dread atmosphere of pending doom is successfully maintained throughout, culminating in a satisfyingly macabre revelation at its conclusion.

 

 Jack Palance's Unknown Powers (1978) – Don Como.

The toweringly charismatic Jack Palance introduces, and co-hosts another exploratory 'documentary' into the altogether mythic realm of mankind's quest for alien forces seemingly unbound by natural law. Not exactly ponderous, but much of Jack Palance's Unknown Powers is rather more sober in its investigations of strange preternatural phenomenon than many other schlockumentaries of the same era. It is engagingly put together, mostly avoiding the shrill hyperbole usually expected of the deliciously disreputable mondo genre. While much, if not all of the phenomena herein has long-since been debunked, it happily remains an entertainingly spurious time-capsule of the 1970s feverish interest in the supernatural, pyramidal pseudo-science, psychic chicanery, occultism, and the still hugely questionable reality of extra terrestrials. It is, of course, episodic fare, with some episodes appearing infinitely less credible than others, ones readiness to believe is simply down to the individual's credulity. Cognoscenti of Fortean media will no doubt find this a satisfying experience, and it's an additional treat seeing Will Geer, and Samantha Eggar adding their estimable dramatic talents to Don Como's amusingly fictitious goof-a-rama. I think it somewhat fair to state that any discussion of stigmata, psychic surgery, and the not so Reverend Jim Jones's power to heal is a giddy leap into the Twilight Zone, especially since Jones's sole egregious talent was for vile duplicity, and mass murder.

 Dead Mine (2012) – Steven Sheil.

A wealthy capitalist, a furtive WWII researcher, and a hardened military outfit find themselves trapped in an apparently derelict Indonesian mine, but instead of unearthing a fabled treasure trove of looted war gold, they discover crazed, subterranean anthropoids, and a terrifying troop of zombie samurai! Undeniably well-made, Dead Mine is no less pointedly derivative, and I think it's absolutely fair to say that without Shockwaves and The Outpost, Dead Mine would run at least 70 minutes shorter. While I was unable to connect with the generic protagonists, I greatly enjoyed the brutal antagonists, being especially appreciative of the righteous-looking mutant Samurai Warriors! Dead Mine falls short of director Steven Sheil's sleazoid Brit-cult classic Mum & Dad, as the stock characters, and prosaic dialogue prove wearisome, yet it isn't entirely without merit. Sadly lacking the inventiveness, and prodigious splatter of Dead Snow, or Army of Frankensteins, this Dead Mine yields precious few nuggets of horror gold.

 Amazing World of Ghosts (1978) – Wheeler Dixon.

'Are ghosts really aliens from outer space?'

Wheeler Dixon's cult 'documentary' on the existence of supernatural phenomena provides all the empiric truth of a biblical parable, this fascinating conflation of myth, lore, and outright ballyhoo is a key example of vintage schlock science. This sublimely hyperbolic schlock-doc proves the existence of the preternatural realm, about as conclusively as the Turin Shroud provides incontrovertible evidence of god. The lurid formula for most mondo documentaries is inviolate; plentiful stock footage/blurry photos, noisome library music, and doomy electronic noodling, plus a melodramatic, portentous, deliciously spurious narration. With fact as anathema, the entertainment value of Dixon's wickedly goofy Amazing World of Ghosts are the bravura levels of arrant nonsense, duplicity, and hysterical anti-science, poorly masqueraded as truth.

One of the more amusingly erroneous inconsistencies is utilising the iconic shot of Big Foot from the long debunked Patterson-Gimlin film, with the narrator dramatically claiming it to be absolutely proof positive of the elusive Yeti, captured against the icy Nepalese tundra!!!???? The crass misrepresentation of source material is no less bold, as it is glaringly specious, providing one of the more innately jocular elements of Wheeler Dixon's blithely truthless expose of the supernatural Amazing World of Ghosts. I can state with reasonable surety that the 'strange orbs' manifesting within the haunted estate are snooker balls in close-up. Surely, even in 1978, the concept of a 'super-sonic UFO' was anachronistic? While I don't believe Amazing World of Ghosts is a trip beyond all human imagination, it's certainly a trip!

 Rise of The Footsoldier : Origins. (2021) – Nick Nevern.

Possibly my least favourite instalment in the popular Brit-crime franchise, but Jones proved to be a surprisingly effective enforcer, and some of the cast's shonky syrups are good for a giraffe. Shrill, palpably recycled, and dramatically undernourished, but arguably worth a watch for more stalwart fans. This umpteenth iteration of The Essex Boys thug mythos frequently proved itself to be a bit pony, and I could tell something was proper sketchy by the absurd adornment of Keith Allen's count Richelieu 'stash, plus the fatigued script, puttering to its listless climax with all the rigor of a well-wankered Ford Capri didn't help. Even Fairbrass's psychotically bellicose Pat Tate furiously shit-cunting for all his worth, the uninspired Rise of The Footsoldier : Origins proved to be a pallid, and wholly unoriginal example of disposable chav-pulp.

 Haunted Echoes (2008) – Harry Bromley-Davenport.

A grieving couple move into a new home following the tragic murder of their only child, but it very soon appears that a restless spirit doesn't care to make them feel welcome. Not altogether unappetizingly, Haunted Echoes frequently exudes the hysteria of a 70s TV-Movie-of-The-Week, yet the able cast often elevates the formulaic, excessively melodramatic text. The plot, performances are above average, but the gaudy post production effects prove distracting, which is a shame, as once Haunted Echoes got going, it is really rather good! I must applaud the cast, Sean Young is solid, often expressing her very own haunted echoes of Joan Crawford, no less credible is David Starzyk as her hubby, and beautiful Juliet Landau is never less than a joy to behold, but, for me, the winning scene stealer is Barbara Bain, since her bugged 'Crazy Cat Lady' is pure dynamite!