NEWS: The Fiend Commits Cinema Suicide

And I adore GTA IV.

Hey, there! Remember me? Sorry it's been a while since I've updated this silly little site, but a few impossibly exciting things have taken place over the past several days. First, I greedily collected my pre-ordered copy of Grand Theft Auto IV, promptly fell in love, and ultimately neglected to do anything else with my oh-so precious spare time this week. And, yes, it really is that good. Second, yours truly has joined forces with the fine fellows over at Cinema Suicide, a rapidly growing b-movie obsessed blog devoted to trash, sleaze, action, and horror. Web mastermind Bryan White is doing amazing things over there, and I'm more than thrilled to be a part of the team. In fact, there are already two full-length genre-related reviews ready for your sloppy consumption. Which reviews have I chosen to tackle, subdue, and fornicate with, you ask? Well, if you're genuinely curious and not just patronizing me, click here to investigate this matter further. The posts, you should know, are under the name Todd Rigney. Oh, and if you've discovered any worthwhile GTA IV easter eggs, feel free to post them below. Seriously. Do it today.

Niko and I will thank you later.

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REVIEW: Livelihood

Beware of shady corporate samurais.

It's no well-kept secret that everyone on this unholy planet is indirectly connected to a group of individuals who are either working on a full-length zombie feature or have just released their undead abomination on one wonky website or another. Depressing, dear readers, but very true. That said, Ryan Graham's thoughtful 2005 deadpan comedy Livelihood is a much-needed departure from the glut of like-minded fare that has found its way onto video store shelves as of late, giving cynical fans of this overcooked subgenre plenty of solid reasons to return to the proverbial fold. The film -- which plays like a sketch comedy version of the straightforward French drama Les Revenants -- tells the sordid tales of three recently deceased individuals who suddenly find themselves back in the wacky world of the living. For a microbudget production, Livelihood is surprisingly tight and well-executed, though some may take issue with the quality of the make-up effects, which often range from great to questionable. Thankfully, the molten core of the film is its well-written script, a nifty slab of dry wit in the grand tradition of The State, Mr. Show, and the audio-visual stylings of writer/director David Wain. Not everyone will truly appreciate the material, mind you, but fans of heartfelt humor with a twist of oddball kookiness will surely flock to this genuinely hilarious and surprisingly competent feature. And if you find yourself humming those strangely catchy Billy Jump songs for days at a time, rest assured that you're in good company. From the off-beat humor to its somewhat muddled social posturing, Livelihood is great fun from start to finish. The special edition DVD is well worth the slippery coinage, so swing over to the official homepage and scoop up a copy post-haste.

Recipe For Success: One Well-Written Script + Ryan Graham's Ability To Stretch A Budget + Billy Jump Lives!

If You're Low On Cash: Perhaps investing in a crypt-based business will help pad your wallet.

Just watch out for the deadbeats.

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WATCH THIS: Uwe Strikes Back

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REVIEW: The Devil's Rejects

Buying ice cream has never been more obnoxious.

Simply put, Rob Zombie is the Kevin Smith of horror. Much like his self-indulgent counterpart, the House of a 1000 Corpses director has a terrible penchant for unlikeable characters, pop-culture laden dialogue, and a nasty habit of casting his wife in roles that probably should have gone to someone else. Zombie's gruesome 2005 epic The Devil's Rejects is easily the gimmicky filmmaker's best feature thus far, proving to conservative theater programmers the world over that 100 minutes of demented violence, sexual humiliation, and sadistic torture can put squishy American butts in sticky cinema seats. It's the sort of calculated throwback one expects from a bearded fellow who spends may too much time watching horror movies and collecting action figures, though Zombie's undying love of the genre may, in fact, contribute to a number of the film's major problems. Besides saddling the audience with a trio of horrific characters we honestly couldn't care less about, there are so many winks, nudges, and references to other films that we're left thinking more about the pictures Rob is pulling from than what's unfolding on-screen. Additionally, several scenes are coated with some embarrassingly awful tracts of mishandled comedy -- the Gene Shalit bit instantly springs to mind -- and a number of shaky, uncooperative performances. Last, but certainly not least, is the film's overblown conclusion, a slow-motion masturbatory fantasy set to the tune of Lynyrd Skynyrd's highly overrated easy rock staple "Free Bird." The Devil's Rejects coasts by on sheer audacity, systematically soaking your jaded brain with shocks and gore to distract you from how grossly pathetic the whole production truly is. Discerning horror geeks need not apply. The rest of you can gladly have it.

Recipe For Disaster: One Overwrought Script + Several Unsympathetic Characters + Free Bird? Give Me A Break

Don't Get Me Wrong: The Devil's Rejects is watchable, but it's by no means a "good movie."

Contrary to popular belief, there is a difference.

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SNACK BREAK: Vice Squad

Release Date: August 1982
Director: Gary Sherman
Tagline: On the street, the real trick is staying alive.
Trailer: Click Here

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REVIEW: Killer Pad

Respect the hot sauce.

For the past two hours, I've attempted to formulate an opening statement that adequately expresses how deeply embarrassed I am for enjoying Nightmare on Elm Street star Robert Englund's surprisingly entertaining and often hilarious satanic party flick Killer Pad, but this sort of high grade, fancy-lad literature is simply beyond my grasp. As a general rule, I try to avoid anything that boldly proclaims itself to be from the producer(s) of Dude, Where's My Car, an act which some may perceive as arrogance. Make no mistake: Killer Pad is one lacy bra strap away from being labeled as a National Lampoons knock-off, but to adhere this damning signage to Englund's spunky little picture would be to discredit the film's truly positive aspects. Dan Stoller's script, for instance, sports of number of clever scenes and quotable lines, most of which are delivered by charismatic leads Eric Jungmann and Shane McRae. Daniel Franzese, meanwhile, is the embodied of nails on a chalkboard, cementing his position as one of my least favorite actors currently doing the Hollywood watusi. Additionally, Robert Englund's execution of the material couldn't be smarter; the man's comic timing is razor sharp, allowing even the lamest of jokes to earn a laugh or two. A Neil Patrick Harris-style cameo from former Blossom heart throb Joey Lawrence seals the proverbial deal, though I'm not sure which is funnier: his impression of Bruce Willis or his involvement in a brief homage to Weekend at Bernie's. However you slice it, Killer Pad is one tasty cinematic treat, a carefree comedy that doesn't strive to do anything more than tickle your fractured funny bone. Oddly enough, I'm down with that. Go figure.

Recipe For Success: Englund and Stoller's Warped Sense Of Humor + Eric Jungmann + Andy Milonakis Is Creepy

For Reals, Yo: I had no idea the devil had a penis and a vagina.

Though it does explain quite a bit.

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NEWS: I Can Has A Horror Con

The Scare Fest creeps out Lexington.

For years I've whined and cried and pounded my pasty little fists in utter frustration over the fact that my hometown of Lexington, Kentucky -- Lex Vegas if you're nasty -- has never hosted a horror convention that was worth anything whatsoever. Come September 2008, however, yours truly will have reason to rejoice. The Scare Fest, one of the largest horror and paranormal conventions in the southeast, will drop its throbbing girth onto this bustling little city, giving local horror nuts a chance to rub elbows with such tasty genre legends as David Naughton, Betsy Palmer, Adrienee King, and the iconic Tom Towles, among others. It's shaping up to be one hell of an event, so make sure you book your hotel as soon as your dusty pocketbook allows; otherwise you may find yourself squirming uncomfortably at the spacious, world-famous Ramanda Inn. As of this writing, the organizers are still taking submissions for the film festival, so be sure to drop by their official website (www.thescarefest.com) or their nifty MySpace page (www.myspace.com/thescarefest) for all the free information you'll ever need on this topic. And if you're thinking about attending, drop me a line and let me know. This way I can determine how much mace to bring. Just kidding...?

I'll post more as soon as I am enlightened.

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REVIEW: Mother Of Tears

Dario thinks you're stupid.

When you stop to consider every single ill-conceived element of legendary director Dario Argento's savagely awful 2007 outing Mother of Tears: The Third Mother -- also known as the final installment of his cherished supernatural trilogy -- it's extremely hard to ascertain which aspect of the film is the absolute worst. Perhaps it's the screenplay by Crocodile scribes Jace Anderson and Adam Gierasch, two of the absolute worst screenwriters currently working in the business. Why Argento decided to rub elbows with these two morons is anyone's guess, especially when the stench of Rats and Derailed follows them around wherever they go. And while this theory does seem to float when tossed in a bucket of distilled spring water, you can't lay the proverbial blame solely upon them. Asia Argento, dream girl of just about every sex-starved, genre-loving weirdo on the planet, proves once again why no one bothers to cast her in legitimate productions. Not only does she have the personality of a skinned tuna, her abilities as an actress can only be described as elementary. However, even if Asia were God's gift to the hills of Hollywood, the incredibly poor special effects -- both physical and computer-generated -- leave much to be desired. When you factor all of these squishy variables into this vibrant cinematic equation, the answer becomes brutally clear. The problem isn't the mindless script, the shaky acting, or the cheap effects -- it's Dario Argento. The man, I'm afraid, has lost his touch, misplaced his genius. Mother of Tears is a lazy supernatural soap opera, at best, an unfortunate conclusion to what could have been a monumental final chapter. Way to go, Dario.

Recipe For Disaster: Asia Argento + One Nonsensical Script + Bargain Basement Special Effects

Wait A Second: Maybe this film was directed by WARIO Argento. That would explain a lot, I think.

Wario. I really hate that guy.

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REVIEW: The Screaming Tiger

Wake me when the screaming starts.

Misleading titles to common household action movies often depress me. Of course, I didn't expect Lung Chien's clunky 1973 Jimmy Wang Yu vehicle Screaming Tiger (Screaming Ninja, King of Boxers, et. al.) to contain an actual living, breathing shrieking Panthera tigris, but one or the other would have sufficed. What we're left to contend with is your standard run-of-the-mill kung fu opus centered around a Chinese guy's quest to exact a little martial arts revenge on the nefarious individual who murdered his father, nothing more. The numerous fights are fairly sloppy and mostly forgettable, save for an extended sequence at the end of the feature which finds our scrappy hero battling his arch enemy at the crest of an enormous waterfall. The story, its inhabitants, and the twists and turns peppered throughout are typical of this sort of production; if anyone can claim to have never seen anything like this before in their entire life, I shall forever envy their ignorance. Thankfully, there's no shortage of bad dubbing and oddball moments, as virtually every character has been appointed one seriously overreaching voice actor and several memorable lines ridiculous dialogue. Here's the one-million dollar question: Do you really want to watch another serviceable martial arts flick that contributes absolutely nothing to the genre? If your answer is a table-thumping, chest-beating yes, Screaming Tiger won't disappoint. Since there are more than a few second-rate distributors offering this nonsense for next to nothing, paying more than ten bones for this generic Jimmy Wang Yu effort is just silly. Considering I own close to 200 vaguely similar kung fu movies, I suppose I have no room to talk.

Recipe For Mediocrity: One Tired Storyline + Some Sloppy Confrontations + When Will Oedekerk Deliver Kung Pow 2?

Here's A Tip: Buy cheap martial arts flicks from flea markets, dollar stores, and garage sales whenever possible.

Before long, you'll feel pretty pathetic.

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WATCH THIS: Fantasy Mission Force

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