Hallucinations (1986) – Mark Polonia& John Polonia.

'This place is freaking out!!!

The feted, and deliciously fetid S.O.V impresarios initial foray into the fungoid arena of cheapnis, analogue schlock provided an oneiric, lysergically loopy extravaganza of unexpectedly cinematic magnitude! Three cracked brothers of questionable competency arbitrarily experience a debilitating series of macabre, sinisterly surrealistic mind-farts during the prolonged absence of their beloved mother. If I loved my mutti with the ardour of the Polonia Brothers, and reacting to her catastrophically neurosis-inducing absence, I might also succumb deliriously to an equally terrifying torrent of tormenting waking nightmares. Sadly, I don't, so I never enjoyed the giddy fortune of experiencing such a kooky kaleidoscope of garishly demented, low-tech brain-spazz. Much like the humble breakfast Weiner, the excitable Polonia bros moorishly pack in a prodigious excess of primitive satisfaction within one plasma-packed hour, a heroic feat of invention, that many other less mutti-orientated film-makers are unable to replicate in thrice that. Expect gut-buckets of Karo-syrupy splatter, menacing inquisitor monks, plasticine phantoms, wispy moustaches, gory gastrointestinal misadventures, phallic fear-figments, nauseating wallpaper, and a shrilly episodic mise-en-scene. To eschew narrative continuity, and aestheticism with such a bravura disregard for the viewer's psychological well-being proved incandescently winning, as 40 years on, stand-alone S.O.V schlock-hammer Hallucinations still walks disturbingly among us, be afraid...BE AFRAID!!! This cautionary S.O.V tale warning prospective mothers over the inherent dangers of neglecting your children's welfare in the selfish pursuit of the almighty dollar feels like a hellacious bumfight betwixt a bargain binned Bunuel and Doris Wishman, Wishman wins!!!YAY!!!