The Dog Lovers Guide To Dating (2023) – Craig Pryce.

Cutesy, but not unbearably so, The Dog Lovers Guide To Dating has two affable, exceptionally well-groomed leads, and their inevitably glutinous will-they-won't-they shtick is of a far higher pedigree than expected. This cosily fluffy tail of workaholic, love-shy dog trainer Alex (Rebecca Dalton) and slick, big-hearted ad exec Simon's (Corey Sevier) puppy love is certainly no dog's dinner, perhaps, being a surefire candidate for Best in Show. For reasons I have never cared to examine too closely, I have long had a singular penchant for wallowing unthinkingly in gloopy Hallmark pap, my tolerance for syrupy sentimentality remains disturbingly high. Geared with a ruthless efficiency to appease canine-loving romantics, even as more of a cat person, I wasn't wholly immune to the adorable doggies warmly fuzzy charms!

 The Nudist Story (1960) – Ramsey Herrington.

A beautiful, altogether proper business lady (Shelly Martin) inherits a nudist colony following the death of her philanthropic Grandfather, and rather than selling it to clear hefty death duties, she becomes amorously entwined with the affable manager Bob (Brian Cobby). Featuring a pleasantly jaunty score, The Nudist Story is a charmingly frothy romantic drama with capable, terribly nice, if somewhat clipped, prodigiously middle-class performances. Herrington's modestly titillating oddity has tasteful scenes of prettified, sun-dappled nudity, mostly bots and tops, governed by an amusingly ingenious methodology of obscuring most of the male and female pudenda! As ribald exploitation, The Nudist Story is tame, but taken as a cinematic singularity, a blisteringly technicolor, early 60s time-capsule, it remains utterly fascinating, the luminous Shelly Martin and stolid suitor Brian Cobby make for wholesome lovebirds. A dramatically slight piece, the prosaic dialogue delivered by the mostly nude cast is so bizarrely incongruous for the time period, The Nudist Story distractingly exudes an almost fever-dream-like quality, and, frankly, I can't readily think of another British film with the same proto-Lynchian vibe. The karaoke musical interludes and fleshly flourish of a lithe nude male arbitrarily doing somersaults suggested to me that The Nudist Story might well prove to be something quite special!

 Bikini Bandits Experience (2002) – Steven Grasse.

The boisterously incoherent, stridently crude B-Movie bacchanal Bikini Bandits Experience pulchritudinously provides a lusty barrage of boorish buffoonery, synapse-stupefying smuttiness, and noisome Beavis and Butt-headed hedonism. With no salacious stone left unturned, BBE remains an inglorious descent into meth-addled, attention deficited, mercilessly MT Veed mega-mong! What Bikini Bandits Experience knows about good taste wouldn't fill a Hobbit's posing pouch, but like the man said, you can spray a turd gold, and it'll still stink; while he makes a cogent point, I earnestly believe that a world without golden turds would be a palpably duller one! Some, perhaps, may find this jarringly episodic freak-fest to be an incorrigible shambles, I moistly enjoyed it, but, I'm absolutely no sane man's idea of a viable demographic! One of the more inalienably meritorious aspects of Bikini Bandits Experience is the fact that should the viewer nod off, they shall always pleasingly awaken to the edifying vision of bountifully bouncing boobage! While faded pop culture peen Corey Feldman's presence is undeniably slight, his increasing awkwardness is not altogether horrible to behold.

 Dark Heritage (1989) – David McCormick.

Amiable investigative journalist (Mark LaCour) and two goofy companions gamely overnight at the dilapidated, ill-fated Dansen estate, hoping to find a positive link to a series of brutal local murders, only to disturb vile, subterranean horrors, worthy of Lovecraft himself! In my opinion, unjustly obscure, Low budget indie horror Dark Heritage has much to recommend it to deep-digging, schlock-savvy 80s horror freaks. While the moth-balled text is creakier than a waxworks guillotine, the lively performances are, by and large, competent, and director McCormick ably peppers the prosaic chatter with some atmospheric, palpably eerie escapades. A watchable, mostly credible, if somewhat undernourished adaptation of of H.P Lovecraft's 'The Lurking Fear', Dark Heritage's failings are, perhaps, largely due to meagre funding, rather than a paucity of earnest film-making ambition. With a greater SPFX budget, and a more robust score, this stolid attempt at lurid Southern Gothic may have been a tad more monstrous. In closing, Dark Heritage delivered more than I expected it to, the dopey dialogue and deliciously cheapnis evocations of Lovecraftian wyrd proved strangely compelling, and due to the persistently dim lighting, they 'almost' got away with the dime store Halloween masks! In an era when all too many contemporary horror films are so patently recycled as to be wholly redundant, I can't think of a more opportune time to worthily gussie up largely forgotten midnight features like 'Dark Heritage'.

 The Settlement (1998)– Mark Steilen.

Opportunist insurance hacks Jerry (William Fichtner) and Pat's (John C. Reilly) hopes of avoiding bankruptcy after purchasing beautiful cancer victim Barbara's (Kelly McGillis) policy ultimately provides them with a wealth of misfortune. With glistering dialogue, Steilen's peppy, blackly funny crime thriller finds Kelly McGillis, John C. Reilly and William Fichtner on especially lively form. The engaging text, zippy direction, flashes of mordant humour, and on-point performances strongly suggest that The Settlement deserves to be emancipated from its wholly undeserved bargain bin DVD status. This appealingly smart, seemingly neglected 90s gem is a comedy-Noir treat, with sinfully slinky siren McGillis an absolute delight as firecracker femme fatal Barbara.

'WTF is a very powerful philosophy once you get going!'

 Doll House (2020) - Steven M. Smith.

A pale, eerily silent, prodigiously strange child is given shelter in a foster home run by a kindly, no less troubled, equally mute psychologist, and once ensconced, the increasingly bizarre waif, and her malevolent dolly wreak supernatural havoc. The diminutively budgeted Doll House is yet another iteration of the spooky child trope, one that starts off promisingly enough but soon fizzles into limpid mediocrity. It should be noted that Doll House is one of very few horror films shot in Essex, the usual fare being chavvy, potty-mouthed shoot 'em ups, which arguably lends it some additional curiosity value. Doll House certainly provides a creepy premise, perhaps hampered by its modest budget, the fearful elements never truly ignite. The compelling first act is well executed, buoyed with credible performances, and I would have enjoyed seeing more of Toyah Willcox, in the non-biblical sense, natch!

 Don't Go Into The Attic (2003) James Shanks.

The legendarily stentorian actor Brian Blessed and the no less charismatic Julie T. Wallis provide much-needed gravitas to mostly tepid low budget British supernatural shocker 'Don't Go into the Attic'. Not long after a bland, quarrelsome young couple move into a rustic Cornish farmhouse, the local legend of Dagon becomes disturbingly manifest, and apostate cleric (Brian Blessed) must do mortal battle with this ancient evil! Anything with Brian Blessed is worth a shout, and while Don't Go in The Attic is frequently hampered by a conspicuous lack of budget, the attractive gothic locale is sinisterly steeped in Folk horror atmospherics, and the Blessed-fuelled climax proved zesty enough. Not the most credible example of Lovecraftian horror, but a valiant effort nonetheless, with Blessed's enjoyably noisome theatricality diverting attention away from the pointed fact that Lord Dagon remains wholly submerged throughout! aka Devil's Harvest.