Knochenwald 3 : Sudden Slaughter. - Utz Marius Thompsen.

Knochenwald, arguably one of the more aggressively bloodthirsty S.O.V slasher trilogies concludes in an exhilaratingly gory fashion, in what sadly remains slasherdom's best kept secret. Why has the outrageously carnage-happy Knochenwald franchise been denied the bloody infamy it so palpably deserves? Sadly, I believe so much of home-made S.O.V splatter remains obscure as they haven't been pushed by smug online genre 'experts', and if mentioned at all, they are usually given undeservedly snarky short shrift. A classic example of this is the almost universally derided 'Violent Shit', by disdainful twerps who couldn't enjoy themselves with free lube, and a weekend pass at a Tijuana cat house.

With better promotion, and higher visibility, Knochenwald's gas-masked maniac Mike Mansfield would very soon stand omnipotent amongst the blood-spattered pantheon of hardcore slasher gods. The objective joys of Knochenwald 3 : Sudden Slaughter are manifold, presenting a generosity of inventive, and tremendously gory kills, even the most degenerated body count junkie will find NOTHING wanting in these thrillingly graphic displays of wanton slaughter. The third OTT instalment benefits hugely from slow-mo splashy practical FX, a pulsing score, and the welcome presence of another psycho, one whose murderous misanthropy energetically equals nemesis Mike Mansfield's orgiastic levels of mayhem!

 In Fabric (2018) – Peter Strickland.

Genre iconoclast Peter Strickland's work is artful, dazzlingly stylised, captivatingly strange, and profoundly sensual, his wickedly compelling euro-horror tone poem 'In Fabric' feels tailor made for midnight movie mavens. At times, unsettlingly bizarre, and teasingly oblique, it is the tantalizingly twisted narrative's raven dark humour that beguiles so absolutely. It's certainly no mean feat tailoring a vintage suburban vista that is both recognizable and massively alien, the department store's diabolical machinations, with its bewitching bevvy of sensually satanic sirens provides for a bespoke trip into a memorably macabre mercantile fantasy. Only indirectly conventional, and often directly sublime, Peter Stickland's decadent, scintillatingly immersive cinema is tactile, and no less deliciously intoxicating than single malted breakfast.

 'Virgin Among The Living Dead' – Jess Franco.

A beautiful, naive young woman returns to her grand ancestral home for a will reading, only to eerily discover that those 'living' in her father's house are not only emotionally detached, terribly eccentric, they may actually be quite dead!!!!! Macabre, oneiric, sensual, and fantastically strange, maestro Jess Franco's darkly atmospheric Virgin Among The Living Dead remains one of his more effectively sin-slaked shockers. Evocative of Franco's classic 60s Gothic, the openly titillating aspects of Virgin Among The Living Dead play second 'fiddle' to a truly dread atmosphere, the malignity infusing the diabolical characters is palpably Lovecraftian.

 Monster (2023) – Kore-eda Hirokazu.

This beguiling, immaculately constructed drama by maestro Kore-eda Hirokazu is no less perfect than the very best of Clouzot and Ozu. Exquisitely acted, Monster frequently explores emotional depths and human fragilities with a deftness that you don't often see in cinema. Writer Sakamoto Yuji's luminous, delicately nuanced screenplay impactfully presents a captivating, finely wrought mystery which ultimately proves no less sublimely tumultuous than life itself. The dazzling, wholly humane way in which Kore-eda masterfully obscures the film's truth proved unusually compelling to me, and the utterly glorious final sequence is surely destined to become iconic. As an avid, life-long film fan, there is something uniquely edifying about discovering such an extraordinarily well-made contemporary film, from the very first playful exchange between loving mother and son, I instinctively knew Monster would be pure magic!

 Midnight aka Mideunaiteu (2021) – Oh-seung Kwon.

Stylish and compelling Korean chiller follows brutal serial killer (wi ha jun) as he sinisterly pursues the beautiful, gamine deaf witness (ki-joo jin)to one of his kidnappings. I've still yet to pinpoint the precise reason for my continued predilection for gruesome thrillers about demented, serially slashing nutbags? Perhaps it was my unduly prolonged potty training, the lack of nutritious fluorides in my bathwater, or a precocious interest in all things pertaining to fulsome lady bottoms may, or may not, have had something to do with it. Who knows? Perhaps, if I had suffered a reasonably severe, yet survivable head trauma as a nipper, my 'adult' obsessions wouldn't be quite so degenerated!

I deducted points for the killer's lack of charisma, but awarded top marks for his tenacity, adaptability in a crisis, and prodigious running skills. Midnight's blazing final act is kinetic, the film-makers ruthlessly doing their utmost to torment the pretty protagonist for our perverse delectation. Curiously, Midnight owes far more to shockers of the past than most Korean horror films, and yet it doesn't feel terribly organic, this punter often felt manipulated, like a rat desperately scuttling hither and thither in a lab-coated misfit's cruelly convoluted maze. Much like the proverbial pudding, the busy narrative was a trifle over-egged, not always, but occasionally, what you don't see can inspire one's imagination with greater efficacy.

 Necro Files 2 : Lust Never Dies. (2002) – Ron Carlo.

I'm probably about as leery of sequels to bona fide cult classics as Churchill would have been of alcohol free gin, but Necro Files 2 gorily perpetuates the very same malign mantra of sordid excellence as the infamously prurient original. It was an uncommon joy to witness the rampaging return of the unspeakably ghoulish, grave-dodging malefactor with the rampantly outsized phallus! Griddle hot naked skeezers are hideously snuffed for our sleazy edification, and you absolutely CANNOT post any of the juicier stills without being kicked off the edge of the world. The zeitgeist absolutely does NOT love Necro Files 2 : Lust Never Dies, but I'm quite sure many will. Both uproariously funny, upliftingly crude, trashily gruesome, and deliciously naughty, EVERYTHING that makes exploitation horror truly great is demonstratively present, plus a ruthlessly lustful zombie with a dingy-looking donkey dong!!! Your road to wellness very much begins with Ron Carlo's unrepentantly sketchy Grindhouse brain-fuck Necro Files 2 : Lust Never Dies, I now sincerely believe there is still hope for a brighter, more inclusive world.

 666: The Demon Child (2004) – Cary Howe.

This is manifestly one of the most perversely enjoyable, Satanically stupefying schlock-bombs I have seen in quite some time! Cary Howe's 666: The Demon Child inconsistently provides terrifically trashy, and winningly Tromaesque brain-melt. While annoyingly replete with an ungenerous amount of T&A, the profundity of dunderhead dialogue, bungled Mise-en-scene, and unexpectedly earnest performances are objectively delightful! Howe's ineffably absurd creature feature 666: The Demon Child remains a proper giggle for the unrepentantly ethanolic, overzealous, bargain bin movie cognoscenti. No tweaked, dust bowl-set, demoniacal baby goof-a-rama ever deserves to be thrown under the B-Movie bus should it contain the immortally chucklesome line 'I can protect you from an egg!!!!' Followers of Ancient Aliens, crude Cryptid re-enactments, Mad Magazine film parodies, and Zechariah Sitchin may well appreciate the film's uproariously cheapjack mysticisms, and especially relish its reekingly Gorgonzola'd apocalyptical climax! When all is said and done, I am still left feeling a mite dejected, as I, sadly, should the need arise, have absolutely no one to protect me from an egg! (sigh)