Friday, September 2, 2016

Review: DOLLY DEADLY (2016)


Let’s talk about revenge, ok? They say it is best served cold (some famous guy said that, at least). My interpretation of “cold” is a closed heart and a sterile environment, blue tones and bleak ambiance. I think of The Bride in Kill Bill or Lisbeth Salander in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I think Fincher or Wan. But director Heidi Moore’s version is a little different than that.

DOLLY DEADLY is truly a feast for the eyes. And I say feast literally because this film has some Harmony Korine-like gag inducing foodstuffs (ketchup spaghetti, anyone?). The hues, camera angles, sets, and cinematography are all insanely brilliant, nauseating, and frenzied (I almost wished to go colorblind by the finale). However, amongst the mania and gut busting humor lies a deep pathos, one of love, despair, and longing. Our protagonist Benji, an orphan since infancy, dearly misses his deceased mother and is a victim to his guardians - his trashy grandmother and her sugar baby boyfriend. His mother may have smoked cigarettes in front of him, drank her “mommy juice,” and fed him Doritos, but she loved him and loved their doll collection. As Benji grows, he becomes attached to the dolls, as they are his only connection to his lost mother and his only companions. He tap dances for his glass-eyed audience, baptizes their plastic sins away, and performs a grotesque, make believe magic show complete with top hat and a bloody Indian basket trick. But with this behavior comes hellish consequences from the rotten world he lives in. And everyone has a snapping point.

This film, amongst the grotesque and stunning imagery, also hits us with gut-wrenching social commentary of current times. The issues of bullying and gender roles are not nuanced, but exquisitely smashed in the narrative like birthday cake. 

If you mixed John Waters, Troma, a sprinkle of Burton, and a glob of Gummo, you may get half of the experience of Moore’s DOLLY DEADLY. This film is sky rocking into cult classic territory and is an example of brilliant indie filmmaking

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Join us for a free screening of DOLLY DEADLY on Monday, September 5th at Screenland Armour at 7 PM. Click HERE for more info.

Monday, July 11, 2016

Review: BLOODY BLOODY BIBLE CAMP (2012)

By: Chelsea Opperman

This month’s feature film for Slaughter Movie House may be the most fun you have on any summer Monday.  Last month I received a package from Amazon in the mail with no shipping information.  Inside was a DVD copy of Bloody Bloody Bible Camp…and for a second I was a little creeped out.  What was this and who sent it?  After running through all of my horror fanatic friends in my head, I realized it must have been from Jill Sixx.  And then I couldn’t wait to watch it, I knew it would be great.  I wasn’t wrong.

Perfect for sweaty July viewing, Vito Trabucco’s Bloody Bloody Bible Camp is a delicious mix of Sleepaway Camp (1983) and Wet Hot American Summer (2001), with a dash of John Waters crudeness.  Taking place in the 70’s and 80’s (the mother ship decade of the slasher genre), Bloody Bloody Bible Camp takes Camp Crystal Lake and morphs it into an exploitative horror-comedy big on campy gore, bountiful boobs, and laugh out loud gut busters.
  
When a group of hormonal and raunchy teens land themselves in bible camp with a brother and a priest, rather than finding godly enlightenment they receive a hellish awakening.  Political correctness and restraint do not exist in this film and no one is safe.  Along with the Susperia-hued blood, Bloody Bloody Bible Camp offers dicey social commentary on race, sexuality, and morality.  The classic summer camp tropes are deftly executed and splattered across the screen with the heavy handedness of exploitation and perversion. Get ready for male midriffs and short shorts, and watch out for the homicidal Sister Mary Chopper who takes the slang term “hatchet wound” to a whole other level.  

Bloody Bloody Bible Camp goes where most mainstream horror wouldn’t dare, and therefore takes its place in the horror hall of cult classics.


Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Review: BAR TALK (2014)

By: Chelsea Opperman 

After a long day of labor, it’s an awesome feeling to go sit and relax with a cheap beer in your favorite honkytonk.  Sometimes the world makes you feel empty inside and you just need to chill out in a dusty bar and reflect.  But then sometimes, a chatty stranger completely interrupts the peace you’re trying to achieve, plunks down beside you, and won’t shut the fuck up.  He insists on telling his life story, and it is completely out of this world.  In this extraordinary short, Lowell Northrop brings an authenticity to scenario, ripe with annoyance and dictated by an over-sharer.  

 

Sometimes you need to watch out for people who sit at the bar stool next to you.  Especially those with a story.  It could leave you completely drained.   

 


Review: CROW HAND (2014)

By: Chelsea Opperman 

Most people pick up pennies when they are spotted on the ground. And why not?  You have nothing to lose.  What if you saw a small crow totem in a parking lot?  Surely that would pique your interest, much to the chagrin of your wife.  One warning though:  If you do pick up the crow, get ready to 5, 6, 7, 8 Dance! Packed with amazingly gross special effects, awesome soundtrack and credits, and gut busting humor, Brian Lonano’s micro short CROW HAND is two minutes of what the fuck and bloody laughter.  

 

Maybe you should think twice about picking discarded objects off the ground, you just might poke your eye out and have it handed to you.  



Review: BURN (2011)

By: Chelsea Opperman 

Inside a gritty woodshed, a MacGyver figure peels an orange.  He speaks of survival to a bloodied young man, who is tied up in more ways than one.  Jerry Pyle’s BURN is a tour de force with exceptional acting, a claustrophobic mise-en-scene, stunning cinematography, and a growing sense of dread.  Revenge flicks can be especially brutal, throwing your mind into a vice, and this short delivers nothing less than a squirm inducing finale.  And this end is written straight out of a Satanic Jigsaw’s book.  

 

Want to play a game?  Make your choice.



Review: RUBY'S SECRET (2013)

By: Chelsea Opperman 


Stiff drinks and a dark bar.  Meeting eyes with a stranger, wet and glistening.  This is a scenario most people know, or have a least witnessed firsthand.  It’s something a little sleazy, a pinch scandalous, and a slew of sexy.  When an unsuspecting gentleman follows his drunken and lustful passion to Ruby’s place, who knows what can happen?  Kalen Artinian’s RUBY’S SECRET is visually stunning, twisting an ordinary one night stand into a visceral mindfuck with an incredible and stunningcolor palette.  

 

As she slips on her Victoria’s Secret, Ruby has her own secret.  And her new playmate is about to witness a tale as old as time, Beauty and the Baphomet.  



Review: ALL MEN CALLED ROBERT (2010)

By: Chelsea Opperman 

The French countryside is stunning.  Sun streaming through the verdant trees, opening up into a straw-colored meadow.  This wood brings such beauty in Marc-Henri Boulier’s masterpiece of a short.  But that serenity is shattered by a naked and terrified man tearing through the countryside, constantly looking back and feeling hunted down.  He instinctually follows the sound of a woman’s voice, calling his name for help.  What will Robert do when he reaches the voice?  And who is chasing him?

 

Maybe if he is quiet, he can hide.  But he hears a twig break behind him.