'Les Choses De La Vie (1970) – Claude Sautet.

Whenever I watch Sautet's exceptionally fine, exquisitely nuenced film, I always strongly recall all the dramatically indelible scenes, no matter how long it has been since the last time I saw it! For me, the natural performances of lovers Piccoli and Schneider are some of the finest put on film. Filmmakers should find 'Les Choses De La Vie's immaculate construction additionally thrilling.

 The Haunted House of Horror (1969)– Michael Armstrong.

Polo neck-tastic teen idol Frankie Avalon stars in Michael Armstrong's modestly swinging sixties slasher The Haunted House of Horror. The carnage bloodily commences once a group of bored, boozy companions seek supernatural kicks in a spooky derelict building, only to discover that one of them is a crazed, Carnaby Street-clad psychopath! Tigon Films lavishly lurid output, over time, has, quite rightly, become something of a national cinematic treasure. With gaudy soap opera theatrics, and groovily garish schmutter, The Haunted House of Horror is both a thrilling terror-tinged time capsule, and one of the very few day-glo Gialli produced in the UK. Absolutely not to be taken remotely seriously, feverishly playing out like a stab-happy Hanna- Barbera cartoon, The Haunted House of Horror is arguably more fun seen today than upon its initial release. Fans of lively vintage British horror should adore it, those who have had their mind's sullied by a tawdry deluge of jump-scares might, perhaps, be less enthralled. Composer Reg Tisley's memorable theme is terrific, and Silvia's (Gina Warwick) saucily geometric go-go outfit is deserving of a mini-documentary unto itself! Dazzling in its pristine HD restoration, Armstrong's somewhat neglected, not often fondly remembered 60s shocker has happily endured, the heady admixture of frisky fashions, sickly passions, and full-blooded distractions remain utterly irresistible!

 Mansion of The Doomed (1976) – Michael Pataki.

The 60s unleashed Grand Guignol masterpiece Eyes without a Face, bad taste prevailed gorgeously in the 80s with Jess Franco's immaculately tasteless Faceless, and squirming ignominiously between them is the face without eyes monstrosity Mansion of The Doomed! Despairing eye surgeon Dr. Chaney's (Richard Basehart) ruthless denial of his Hippocratic oath provides 86 maniacal minutes of luridly stomach churning grotesquery. I can't help but feel that Dr. Chaney's work colleagues might have paid closer attention to the prophetically sardonic 'You don't have to be a mad scientist to work here, but it helps!' novelty on his desk! While you absolutely can't fault the good doctor's paternal desire to repair his daughter's sight, his monolithically macabre modus operandi sinisterly suggests that daddy doesn't always know best! Mansion of The Doomed isn't exactly a nice place to visit, and I certainly wouldn't want to live there, but its vile amenities certainly makes for one memorably eye-popping splatter film! While I am not proud of utilizing 'eye-popping' in my enthusing of Pataki's gruesome 70s shocker, and, perhaps, I am a little ashamed of my gaucheness, but I felt strangely compelled to use it. They often say seeing is believing, and master illusionist Stan Winston's disturbingly effective make-up proves their point with disgusting efficacy!

'Screaming is believing!!! the 20/20 HD edition of 'Mansion of The Doomed' is a sight for sore eyes!!!!!!!!

 Bergerac Series 7.

I remain a staunch fan of beloved Jersey-set 80s cop classic Bergerac, and I recently picked-up a copy of series 7, which provided many thrillingly convoluted cases for the handsome copper to crack. I found the cracking episode, 'Trenchard's Last Case' to be an especially worthy example of high quality telly-making. It's relatively rare for latter-day instalments of popular Policier serials to maintain integrity to the end, but Bergerac is one of the few able to do so. The lively characters, engaging stories, and a more than compelling lead have made Bergerac a genuinely glistering jewel in the BBC's often tarnished crown.

 Death Train (1993) – David Jackson.

With monomaniacal intensity, steely Soviet General Konstatin Benin (Christopher Lee) slyly recruits fellow maniac (Ted Levine) to hijack a German train loaded with a bespoke nuclear device. So far, so Seagal, but stalwart goodies Alexandra Paul, and Pierce Brosnan really do struggle to derail his monstrous plan, whereas the chunky Crapkidoist would have done it in half the time, and bedded the milkiest honey baby in town! This locomotive, rainy afternoon action-thriller is given an almighty kick in the bottom by Christopher Lee's authoritatively sinister vibes, and twitchy Ted Levine's increasingly volatile Klaus Kinski-ness provided for a deliciously unhinged nemesis! In this specific instance, I sided unanimously with the villains, far more charismatic than the vanilla heroes, but the ever-mellifluous Patrick Stewart proved to be a wholly credible guvnor. Death Train remains enormous escapist fun, though hampered by a tepid hero, and an equally insipid score, I'd still give this boisterous B-Movie Bond an A- for effort! Anything with Christopher Lee has palpable merit, and to this very day, I maintain a biased, acutely childlike appreciation of films set upon trains.

 Khanate – Capture & Release.

Arid, torturous, and grindingly bleak, I descend into the unremitting morbidity of this glacial vacuum of despair with enormous relish!!! Should anyone create a horror film even half as pure fucking evil as Capture & Release the world would, perhaps, wither and die! Flinty, maddeningly crawlspaced riffs, thrillingly joyless Gestapo grind for unredeemable misanthropes, and Unabomber's in-waiting. Capture & Release remains an excruciating way to decompress from the obnoxiously deadening algorithms of the zeitgeist. I'd sincerely like to believe that Countess Bathory might well have enjoyed listening to this as she gleefully exsanguinated the home help. It has so often been said, that any music that doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger.

 Seven Steps of Kung Fu (1980) – Wong Chong Kwan & Ting Chung.

Another martially manic, blazingly fight-packed gem from the frequently awesome Vengeance Video. With zesty, light-hearted interludes, a righteously arduous training montage, walking on hands, destroying eggs with power, no quarters spared retribution, and thrillingly acrobatic combat, Seven Steps of Kung Fu remains a dynamic martial arts spectacular! I'm not absolutely clear about the plot, but the expert, wholly honourable kung fu good guys ultimately prevail over this cabal of traitorously scheming villainy in an exhausting, tremendously exhilarating climactic battle!

 Dawn of The Mummy (1981) – Frank Agrana.

Languidly paced, the palsied narrative occasionally lumbers forth no less sluggishly than its mothballed mummy, and any crude Euro-schlocker so closely resembling Jess Franco's Oasis of the Zombies will have its detractors, but I am certainly not one of them. Maligning it for its grisly goofiness is somewhat counter-intuitive, since that is very much its saving disgrace! Agrana is manifestly no De Palma, eschewing dynamic set-pieces for plentiful gut-bucket gore, graveyard synths, and skinflick acting trauma provides far more entertainment than one might initially think possible. For me, a true cult film matures mustily over time, its value not decided by fatuous pundits/shills, but the legitimate fans, and avid film collectors who cherish these frequently disparaged works. In this rare case, you can very much can judge a book by its cover, the bodacious-lookin' mummy luridly adorning the poster/sleeve righteously telegraphs the scintillatingly gory goods within! Lovingly gussied up by Treasured Films, Dawn of The Mummy's stunning HD resurrection is a veritable triumph, this truly lovely Blu-ray edition taking pride of place in my burgeoning Euro-horror collection.

'The Deaths of Ian Stone' (2007) – Dario Piana.

This compelling admixture of Groundhog Day and Hellraiser finds that the increasing unstable life, and frequent deaths of Hallmark handsome Mike Vogel is disturbingly due to the predatory nature of Harvesters, fearsome, fear-feasting demons. This novel attempt at a horror upgrade proves mostly successful, the attractive young cast, delirious plot, and Stan Winston's exemplary creature design prove engaging. The giddy first act is genuinely intriguing, the hugely beleaguered Stone's grimly existential plight hooked me from the very get-go, and I relished all the bloody, whizz-bang Harvester vs human interludes! As always, Michael Feast's acting contribution proved exemplary, sexy PVC-clad demons always rock, and Piana's darkly demon-seeded shocker's upbeat conclusion felt altogether righteous. Horror protagonists are frequently little better than silicon-pumped cannon-fodder, but the dire jeopardy of Stone's delightfully angelic paramour (Christina Cole) manifestly held my interest. I give The Deaths of Ian Stone additional kudos since it isn't a remake, doesn't rely solely on asinine jump-scares, and, thankfully, it has absolutely nothing to do with Eli Roth.

 Superpilot : Into the Sun (1991) – Fritz Kiersch.

80s VHS hero Michael Pare is ace fighter pilot Watkins, and former Brat-packer Anthony Michael Hall plays arrogant film star Tom Slade in largely forgotten 90s actioner Superpilot: Into The Sun. Fleet of fists, and fleeter of joystick, the querulous shenanigans of a Gung ho Military jock vs entitled Hollywood star provides much of the dramatic grist for this amenable sky-bound shoot 'em up. I think its fair to say that enjoyment of Superpilot is largely predicated upon viewers pronounced appreciation of broad Buddy Buddy shtick, hot-blooded Go-America aeronautical acrobatics, and leads Pare and Hall. It's mostly entertaining, but I'm not adverse to standard DTV fare, and I remain an unapologetic super-fan of handsome gravel-voiced grump Pare. The cast is decent, featuring some familiar faces, and if you can't quite cope with yet another repeat of Iron Eagle on the ol' telly box, Superpilot might just ignite your afterburners, falls a mite short of mach 10, but arguably a good 6 in a high wind! Terry Kiser's barnstorming performance as Slade's gonzo agent provides a lively comedic element, and I'm quite sure many of us can benefit from the fighter pilot credo of 'When in doubt, whip it out!'

 Titane (2021) - Julia Ducournau.

This exhilarating, perversely polymorphic, brutally executed Ballardian Body horror, and its tantalisingly tormented, vividly imagined protagonist Alexia/Adrien (Agathe Rousselle) exudes a uniquely sinister exoticism! Often cruel, and strikingly strange, I found Titane to be an unexpectedly erotic experience, frequently imagining Alexis making mad love with the very same intensity that she so gorily dispatched her unsuspecting victims! More mythical beast of ancient lore than prosaic serial killer, her detached, alien demeanour powerfully suggestive of a devastatingly duplicitous Kelpie, or a quite literally steel thewed Siren. Beyond good and evil, repulsed by oily dipsticks, misanthropic mecha-matriarch Alexia is drawn magnetically to sleekly metallic body work, relishing the pounding proximity of throbbingly virile V8's, a delicious torment, wherein violent sexual congress, and sanguineous death-throes are exquisitely conjoined. It feels like a maternity since I last enjoyed a turbocharged, titanically twisted terror trip like Julia Ducournau's Science-friction'd phantasmagoria Titane!

 Storm Catcher (1999) – Anthony Hickox.

Highly decorated, true blue pilot Jack Holloway(Dolph Lundgren) is framed for the theft of a stealth aircraft by a covert paramilitary cell, he must not only prove his innocence, but rescue his family from these traitorous, kill happy terrorists. Dolph is especially adept at playing steely military types like Major Jack Holloway, one of the more credible action heroes, due to his towering height, ruggedly handsome features, charisma, and legit combat skills. To put it kindly, the plot/text is 'cosily familiar', but, excitingly, Tony 'Waxworks' Hickox keeps the pace lively, delivering explosive action that is plentiful and quite bloody. Fans of mighty Dolph, PM entertainment, Isaac Florentine flicks, and bullet-shredded DTV mayhem are unlikely to be disappointed by slick, high flying shoot 'em up Storm Catcher. While I prefer Mr. Lundgren when he is morally ambivalent (The Punisher), or outright bonkers (Universal Soldier), his apple pie good guys have a solidly believable, John Wayne heft that I also can appreciate.

 Ghoulies IV (1993) – Jim Wynorski.

I wouldn't know how popular Ghoulies IV remains, but watching it again after a prolonged hiatus, I can honestly say that it greatly exceeded my modest expectations. While Voorhees and Myers got it together on their part 4's, as a general rule, any franchise is mostly on its ass by 3, just ask Coppola, if I tell a lie. Put bluntly, Ghoulies IV is a delightfully daft comedy schlock-fest, that is certainly clever enough to know it! Dime store tough cop (Peter Liapis), and his feisty femme fatal captain (Barbara Alyn Woods) become evilly enmeshed in a buxom demonologist's (Stacie Randall) dastardly occult plot to steal the detective's life force. It's all monstrously silly, but amicably so, not unlike Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers, the playful performances, slinky peek-a-boo outfits, and snappy backchat make Ghoulies IV an eminently likeable B-movie. Ghoulies IV being INTENTIONALLY funny caught me wholly unawares, it was an unexpected treat laughing with a film with persistently prat-falling trolls than merely laughing at it.

 The Supergang aka Fan wan di(1984) – Siu Jun Wong.

Alan's (Bruce Le) elder brother is killed in his absence, and upon his return, this fleet-fisted fury grimly vows vengeance! Discovering the perpetrators of this fell deed excitingly engenders a violently duplicitous gangland war, and only the deadliest master of martial arts mayhem shall prevail! Furiously fight-packed, and generously goofy, The Supergang is dazzlingly replete with all the head-spinning lunacy one expects from blissfully bonkers Brucesploitation. A must for seasoned Gordon Ho/Joseph Lai addicts, with the burly presence of charismatic Kung Fu killer Bolo making it nigh on essential for all! For me, The Supergang is a genius-level Chop Schlocky spectacular, having a brilliantly bizarre slasher trope digression, an exhilaratingly high quotient of nookie, and so blessed with invigoratingly psychotronic pizazz, I'm massively surprised that AGFA haven't already bagged this warped wonder! On an entirely subjective note, the oft repeated usage of Jay Chattaway's iconic 'Maniac' theme provided an entirely joyous distraction!

 Dracula 2001 (2000) – Patrick Lussier.

High tech, if patently lowbrow thieves foolhardily steal a heavily secured coffin in Van Helsing's tricked-out vault, with agreeably sexy, luridly bloodthirsty results. This stylised revamp of the Stoker mythos Hammers home it's noisome MTVeeeeee!!!! origins, energetically proving that occasionally glossy style and plentiful bloody substances make for a bloody tasty horror cocktail. A plasma rich B Positive bloodsucker, with a cultured Van Helsing (Christopher Plummer), a horny, Hallmark hunky Drac (Gerard Butler), a frustratingly pallid heroine(Justine Waddell), and a gorgeously gore-guzzling Jennifer Esposito slinkily sinking her fangs into those fatally beguiled by her sinisterly sultry spell! I still really dig Lussier's lively Dracula 2001, but I would have greatly preferred 'Countess Dracula 2001', as the exquisitely evil Esposito made for a dazzlingly beautiful, deliciously vicious vampire queen! I'm not disparaging Butler, he had a credibly broody Byronic hustle, but Esposito was just tomb much wicked woman to ignore!!!!!!