Magic Kid (1993) – Joseph Merhi.

When writing about music, I tended to review/enthuse about lesser-known bands that appealed to me, and I remain enthusiastic about indie action impresario Joseph Merhi's equally neglected action oeuvre. Magic Kid successfully evokes the same tangy, feel-good, kid-can-do kung fu vibes of family friendly Karate Warrior and Sidekicks. Not long into able Karate kid Kevin (Ted Jan Roberts), and pretty sister's (Shonda Whipple) L.A vacation they are soon deeply embroiled in boozy uncle Bob's (Stephen Furst)shady shenanigans, with Kick boxing icon Don 'The Dragon' Wilson saving the day. The formulaic premise sweetened by Magic Kid's zesty pace, boisterous likeability, plentiful fisticuffs, Don 'The Dragon' Wilson, and the plucky kid's magic martial artistry. Furst's broad comedy shtick as the stumble bum agent/uncle Buck(less) frequently provides quality rib-ticklage. If a goofily Home Alone'd/Beverly Hills Ninja romp sounds appealing, the playful, relentlessly upbeat Magic Kid remains a frantically fun, more than watchable DTV actioner. I've said it many times before, but a restored retrospective of action stalwarts PM Entertainment's greatest 90s Kung Fu hits is hugely overdue.

'I'm a Ninja Dragon, and I can get you out of this mess, Uncle Bob!!!'

 Cutaway (2000) – Guy Manos.

My continued interest in film collecting isn't Blu-rays, I do purchase them, but only after they are greatly reduced in price. The largely forgotten, even misbegotten titles of unashamedly bargain-binned DVD label Prism still maintains a powerful lure. I cannot deny my appreciation of Cutaway's conspicuously DTV cast, the prospect of Ron Silver, Stephen Baldwin, Dennis Rodman, and Caspar Van Dien proved impossible to resist! I honestly feel Tom Berenger's presence is, perhaps, due to Lance Henriksen's absence, although, the late, greatly lamented Wings Hauser would have made for an edgier choice. Cutaway is by no means an original action thriller, yet due to the appealing idiosyncrasies of the cast, plentiful skylarking, and its fortuitous lapses into macho buffoonery, Cutaway's unabashed B-Movie-ness ultimately won me over! I don't exclusively watch escapist fare like Cutaway due to my bouts of cognitive instability, but I like to think that it plays a huge part in why I enjoy them so unapologetically. This formulaic retooling of Point Break is persistently enlivened by adrenalized displays of technically adept skydiving. Drinking game is optional, but you will get manifestly piddly every time 'cutaway' is mentioned in the text.

 Heavy Metal Fakk II (1999) – Michael Coldeway / Michel Lemire.

As belated sequels to bona fide 80s cult films go, the not quite so bona fide Heavy Metal Fakk II happily doesn't skimp on the bullet-shredded mayhem, or low-ball fans with the audacious boobage and salty badinage content. I've long been a 'Michael Ironside? Take my money now, dude!!!!' kinda dude, so I'm being anything but objective when I say his murderously megalomaniacal, eternal life elixir seeking sadist Tyler is the Fakk'n bomb! Briskly paced, with lively animation, and a stridently metallic score, this pleasingly straight forward Sci-fi shoot 'em up features a memorably gutsy Amazonian heroine(Julie Strain), Julie's prodigious pluck proved admirable, being an eminently root-able, voluptuously vengeance-seeking Valkyrie! On an entirely personal note, it would be unimaginable for me to truly dislike anything that excitingly began with a sequence galvanized by psychedelically tweaked Canadian thrashers Voivod! Unfortunately, it's not all wine and roses, I was unsettled by the wholly unfeeling way the amicably Pandrogynous cyber escort was so blithely destroyed!!?? Hey!!!! Sex droids lives matter too????!!!!! Don't judge me, lady!!! as it gets mad lonely up in space! In today's more politically sensitive climate, I'd hope that synthetic sex workers would be treated with much less antagonism.

The Iron Warrior (1987) – Alfonso Brescia.

Mostly non-sucky fantasy The Iron Warrior is ably produced by the same delicious disaster-mind behind fabulously freak-bearded Sci-schlocker 'The Visitor'. Conan for perma-tweaked VHS babies, haphazardly weaned on grubby Gor paperbacks, windswept, ribbon-y Duran Duran video's and actively neurotoxic food additives. Handsomely set upon a picturesque Maltese archipelago for additional prehistoric gravitas, the pulpy peplum narrative is plentifully peppered with enough Homeric bathos, and swash buckling sword and sorcery shenanigans to appease 80s fantasy fans. What pretty sword master Ator (Miles O'Keefe) lacks in charisma is strongly compensated by lean, battle-hardened sinews and epic facial bone structure, and, quite frankly, his gorgeously nubile paramour Savina Gershak lacks not one damn thing at all. Performances are adequate, the expository text provides much unintentional humour, and Wally Gentleman's especially fine photography dazzles not infrequently.

 

 'Wishing Stairs' (2003) - Yoon Jae-Yeon.

Old School K-Horror classic 'Wishing Stairs' remains a creepy Urban Legend shocker that is atmospherically stuffed to the rafters with a hair-raising plethora of Asian Terror tropes! While the oppressive Ballet school setting inevitably recalls 'Suspiria', the macabre, generously fright-packed Twinkle Twinkle Wishing Stairs is very much in a creepy class all of its very own. As an aside, I have noticed that a great number of Japanese/Korean haunted high school horrors feature profoundly unlikeable teachers, which is something I find personally relatable. 'Wishing Stairs' is quality horror, the fine performances, shuddersome set-pieces, and excellently tingly score make it eminently superior to much of the dingily recycled dross of today. Trapped inside a school of fulminating despair, some of the girl's hopes of alighting upon that mythic 29nth stair prove fatal. Be very, very careful what you wish for, since the genie lurking inside the bottle is never known to play fair!

 The Fifth Floor (1978) – Howard Avedis.

After ingesting poison, dishy disco dolly Kelly suffers seizures and is sent to a hospital for psychiatric evaluation. During her increasingly horrific stay in this generously choc-fulla-nuts psych ward, this sweet, kindly young lady is subjected to unspeakable torments at the mucky mitts of a monstrously sleazy orderly (Bo Hopkins). Avedis's Loopy Lou thriller The Fifth Floor is both earnest, wildly exploitative and deliciously unhinged, yet the mostly credible performances only just barely keep it north of utter bosh. The hyperactive, rubber-faced Robert Englund appears to be auditioning for a guest spot on Saturday Night Live, yet it is these divinely distracting lapses into unfiltered absurdity that makes it all so terribly irresistible! The Fifth Floor's squirrelly admixture of lurid W.I.P tropes, ribald Disco digressions, and rampantly Nut Hatched eccentricity strongly suggests a brand new movie cult in the making. When my time inevitably arrives, I shall openly admit that I'm hopelessly insane, since, according to trenchant Hollywood lore, to zealously claim your sanity is to guarantee another 90 days in stir!

 Invasion U.S.A (1986) – Joseph Zito.

A profoundly absurd premise given an uncommonly rigorous verisimilitude by the auspicious casting of one-man Ruskie wrecking machine Chuck Norris. Cinema remains a relatively nascent art-form, but there's very little doubt in my mind that 300 years from now, Joseph Zito's unapologetically gratuitous Invasion U.S.A will rock no less audaciously! A bravura, blazingly bullet-shredded clash of B-movie titans, wherein uber nemesis Richard Lynch and princely pugilist Chuck Norris savagely set at one another like a pair of blood mad roosters. There's no grey area here, if y'all don't love Invasion U.S.A, you're a goddamn pinko skeeze, and it's YOUR time to die!!!!

 The Odyssey (1997) – Andrei Konchalovsky.

This dazzling TV version of Homer's immortal epic adventure benefits hugely from its extraordinary cast, while brief, it also features an especially menacing turn from the evilly charismatic Christopher Lee. Not lacking in scintillating spectacle, excitingly replete with a boggling array of credible special FX, Jim Henson's studio, as expected, makes the utterly fantastic appear altogether plausible. This lively 90s iteration of The Odyssey is a fun, rousing, entertainingly thrill-stuffed historical actioner that lustily captures the frantic impetus of Homer's visionary tale of uncommon valour, and the most enduring love! Isabella Rossellini is enticingly lovely as Goddess Athena, luminous Greta Scacchi beguiling as Penelope, and bravura character actor Armand Assante attunes his signature alpha swarthiness to become the magnificent warrior king Odysseus. By the film's spectacularly dramatic climax, I was wholly convinced by the majesty of Assante's irrepressible, Siren shunting, Cyclops goring, Poseidon baiting, Troy falling, all conqueringly righteous dude! In closing, it proved interesting to note that this was the very first Hallmark feature I have seen in collaboration with American Zoetrope!

 'The Valachi Papers' (1972) – Terence Young.

The Valachi Papers is closely based on the brutally compelling true crime history of former Cosa Nostra soldier, turned informant Joseph Valachi. In many ways an exemplary, engagingly written, violently entertaining Gangster film, bolstered by an exceptionally fine cast, with icons, Lino Ventura, and Charles Bronson delivering wholly credible performances. Bronson's unsophisticated, physically capable, seemingly guileless Valachi is a surprisingly sympathetic, if not altogether likeable protagonist, and Ventura subtly portrays the villanously paranoiac boss Genovese with remarkable restraint. Snappily paced, if a little rushed at times, Young's film-making is professional, but unremarkable, lacking the bravura muscularity of Lucio Fulci, or dazzling inventiveness of Umberto Lenzi. I am fond of The Valachi Papers, since I feel it remains a damn fine film, but I feel the lovely HD restoration does, on occasion, highlight the odd minor flaw, and budgetary shortfall. The grisly castration of Walter Chiari's Gap is especially well staged, Bronson and Chiari bringing an queasy verisimilitude to Vito Genovese's unnecessarily cruel retribution.

 'Papaya, Love Goddess of The Cannibals' (1978) – Joe D'Amato.

Preceding the apocalyptic 'Zombie' outbreak in Matul, and a decade before the fiendish mini-mammalian mayhem of 'Ratman', Joe D'Amato's eye-popping expose of Voodoo-bugaboo Eco terrorism is, sadly, all too infrequently praised. A perverse, generously pulchritudinous, picture perfect peepshow, D'Amato's enticing admixture of exotic travelogue vistas, sizzling carnality, and tasteful, then-voguish usage of juicy Cannibal tropes prove irresistible! The buxom, blithely bi-curious blonde Journalist's (Shirpa Lane) lustful investigations of the deadly dusky demonologist Melissa (Melissa Chimenti) reveals the increasingly malign mystique of this vengeful Voodoo priestess. The deliciously overripe Papaya, Love Goddess of The Cannibals potently flesh-some cocktail of sun, sea and sultry sedition remains an intoxicatingly intimate exploitation classic, wherein only the largest portions of forbidden fruit will satisfy!

 Diana Dors - Britain's Blonde Bombshell.

As a mega-fan of film and TV icon Diana Dors, I felt strongly compelled to rewatch this quality, hugely lovely documentary on the UK's most divinely talented, enduringly fascinating, and voluptuously charismatic national treasure. A respectful, yet consistently engaging, informatively in-depth piece that reflects kindly upon Diana's unique gifts, and I have absolutely no doubt there will be many fans who shall adore her all the more by the end credits! Merely my own biased point of view, but it is rare for glossy celebrity TV biographies to be so wholesomely replete with such genuine warmth, earnest admiration, and palpable love for its subject. Like many of the memorable screen legends, Diana Dors remains a greatly beloved, utterly irreplaceable personality, and her legacy of national treasure is wholly deserved. Featuring clips from 'Queenie's Castle', 'Deep End', 'Yield to The Night', 'The Amazing Mr. Blunden', revealing anecdotes from friends, family and co-stars, and many playful TV appearances, the lively footage herein offers entertaining insight into a truly effervescent star.

 'Voices' (1973) – Kevin Billington.

Following the tragic death of their only child, husband (Hemmings) and grief-stricken, suicidal wife's (Hunnicutt) attempts at reconciliation following her prolonged stay in a mental hospital prove disastrous, since their choice of dilapidated getaway country manor, isn't quite as abandoned as it initially appears. 'Voices' translates well from stage to screen, due in no small part to the very fine acting of real-life power couple Hunnicutt and Hemmings, with Hunnicutt bringing enormous depth and pathos to a complex and challenging role. Shot on film and video, which demonstratively lends 'Voices' a unique, if initially jarring aesthetic, while I'm quite sure it was unintended, this singular approach recalled Brian Clemen's macabre masterclass 'Thriller'. Dissimilar in many ways, there are, perhaps, shared eerie tonalities with 'Images', 'The Innocents', 'Symptoms' and 'Don't Look Now', that strongly recommends Kevin Billington's captivating 'Voices' to those appreciative of nuanced acting, dramatically sound film-making, and artful, slowly scintillating supernatural suspense.

'Witness in The City' (1959) – Édouard Molinaro.

Faking suicide, a playboy industrialist (Jacques Berthier)calculatingly murders his mistress, and the victim's husband (Lino Ventura) equally pitiless revenge excitingly engenders an increasingly desperate sortie through the crepuscular streets of Paris. Director Édouard Molinaro's electric, stunning invocation of moody gallic noir makes for extraordinarily compelling cinema, maestro Henri Decae's ominously shadow-slaked photography draws you deeply into Molinaro's mesmerisingly monochromatic milieu of midnight misanthropy.

Razor-edged cat-and-mouse crime thriller 'Witness in The City' is honed to deadly efficacy, the bulk of the film's undeniable allure due solely to magnetic film icon Lino Ventura's steely charisma. Granted, I am massively biased, since Lino Ventura is one my favourite actors, but, in my opinion, no one stalked the dingy backstreets of not-so-gay Paris with the inimitable rigour of Mr. Ventura! The thrilling performances, exquisite, frequently dynamic film making, and exemplary text strongly suggests Witness in The City be witnessed by all those who savour superlative genre film making.

 Raw Deal (1986) – John Irvin.

Heroic Arnoldt blew up the silver screen like a thunderbolt, immortal 80s action Scion, Cimmerean sinews like iron, a demi-god amongst mere mortal men. Hollywood's horniest Hercules, billion dollar smile brought ladies to their knees. Zeus's mightiest son, his Olympian biceps blocked out the sun. Schwarzenegger's box office clout seemingly unreal, his Promethean pectorals brutally brought The Predator to heel, and gun-happy actioner Raw Deal has thrillingly lost none of its bloody, Bullet-shredded appeal! Much like his primordial pugilist in Red Sonja, he ain't afraid to stick one on ya'!

Friday The 13^th Part VIII (1989) – Jason Takes Manhattan - Rob Hedden.

Partially lost at sea, the choppy Part VIII was oft regarded as the pips, but I still greatly enjoy Jason taking a slice out of the big apple! And I must avidly concur, J.J's awesome axe is indeed killer!