Lord of Illusions (1995)


Lord of Illusions has, once you look into it, a hell of a production history. Witten, directed, and partly produced by horror grandmaster Clive Barker, it should have been a shoo-in for a classic reputation as part of the mid-90s Premillennial apocalyptic gothic-horrors. However, instead of riding the wave of Hellraiser, Nightbreed, and Candyman, it got bogged down in budgetary constraints and bitter disputes over final-cut issues. Then again, it also had a nifty set of promotional images and thus caught my eye when dredging through the lower portions of Netflix.
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Attack Of The Killer Tomatoes (1977)

The fundamentals of this film are explained within the first 5 minutes, in one of the greatest displays of “show, don’t tell” exposition in cinema that clearly demonstrates the skill found within this work. Tomatoes have started attacking, and killing, people all over America. The police and the army have failed to stop them, thus the country is facing Tomatogeddon. The Pentagon has recruited Mason Dixie (David Miller) to lead a team of utterly improbable agents (Sam Smith (Gary Smith), a disguise expert, Greg Colburn (Steve Cates), scuba diver, Gretta Attenbaum (Benita Barton) Olympic swimmer, and Wilbur Finletter (Stephen Peace), parachute trooper) who team up and then head their own ways to provide comic asides in a variety of unlikely locations.
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Starcrash (1978)

StarCrash is a 1978 space opera written and directed by Italian filmmaker Luigi Cozzi, and you’ll work out within the first two minutes that this is a blatant Star Wars cash-in. It was filmed in and around Rome, using an extensively Italian cast and crew, but it’s technically an American movie because the money came from the Wachsberger Brothers, and Roger Corman was the distributor. Today we would probably call it a Mockbuster, but, unlike everything churned out by companies like Asylum, this is actually quite a fun watch.
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The Devil All The Time (2020)


Continuing with its run of “it’s okay, if you like that sort of thing” films from big-name producers, Netflix has entered into the world of American Gothic with “The Devil All The Time”. Adapted from the book of the same name, and with its author Donald Ray Pollock acting as the narrator through its 138 minutes run-time, it follows the life paths of Willard Russell (Bill Skarsgård) and his son Arvin Russell (Tom Holland) as they deal with violence, death, and religion in ’40s, 50’s and 60’s Knockemstiff, Ohio. Intertwined with them are the various lives, challenges, and horrific murders of everyday rural America, resulting in a road trip through an Appalachian heart of darkness. Unfortunately, for all the wonderful scenery and charming locals, it never really ends up going anywhere.
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Vampires vs. the Bronx (2020)


Due to the hole in the market left by broadcast media no longer running Halloween horror marathons, over the last couple of years Netflix has regularly dropped spooky movies under its Originals brand at the start of October. It started around 2016 with I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House, a well-received, high-brow gothic horror. Since then, their annual offering has switched between high-brow (Apostle) and gory-camp (The Babysitter), but has constantly focused on the adult audiences. This year, with Osmany Rodriguez as writer and director, they have brought us something a lot more family-friendly in the shape of Vampires vs. the Bronx.
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The Punisher (1989)


On paper, this must have looked like a brilliant idea. Take one of the most popular non-super-powered comic book characters of the era, use the core of their story to tell a standard vigilante cop story, and string together a bunch of fight sequences with an up-and-coming action star at the helm. It was the late 80’s and people were flocking to see that stuff, but for whatever reason, this Mark Goldblatt directed flick fell flat on its face.
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Upgrade (2018)


Upgrade starts out as a “by-the-book” bit of cyberpunk sci-fi. I-Could-Swear-That’s-Tom-Hardy, burly house-husband and committed future luddite, and his charming wife, Succesful-Generica, live in Now, But With Self-Driving Cars And Police Drones (population: lots). Fifteen minutes in, they get ambushed in their fancy car, him getting paralysed and her getting fridged in an unnecessarily sexual manner. I Can’t Believe It’s Not Tom Hardy then broods over being paraplegic and widowed, until Jared Leto-Lite offers to implant him with Legally-Not-The-Venom-Symbiote, later upgraded with Siri: Ultimate Fighting Championship Edition.
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Meet The Feebles (1989)


Before being corrupted by Hollywood, and forever tainted by the evil of production budgets, Peter Jackson had a highly respectable career in New Zealand cinema as the foremost auteur of splatter comedy. Bad Taste, with it’s exploding sheep was his breakthrough moment, and Braindead arguably the highlights of his filmography and unarguably the bloodiest film ever at that time. But it’s his adventure into the world of puppetry that is “Meet The Feebles” that got run through the Trash or Treasure grinder this time, because what we really need right now is a meanspirited laugh and a hippo with a machine gun.
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The Tomb: Devil’s Revenge (2020)


What’s better than a self-proclaimed action-horror B-movie? One that’s got William Shatner in a starring role and as a producer? And what’s even better than that? One where he seems to have got the producer credit by pulling in his Star Trek TNG contacts to be in front and behind the cameras. Yes, it’s a modestly budgeted three-act fun-timer set to “traditional tropes”, but it’s also playing with some expectations. The story focuses on John – also known as Sergio (Jason Brooks), an archaeologist who spends his time pot-holing in Kansas to try and find the relic that has cursed his family for generations. Great for trying to keep his heartless and unloving father (William Shatner) happy, not so great for his long-suffering wife Susan (Jeri Ryan) or his red-shirted caving assistants. What’s the curse and where does it come from? Well, that’s not quite clear. But you don’t need to know that, only that it’s enough of a McGuffin to get everyone worried enough to put themselves in danger for our amusement.
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Surf Nazis Must Die (1987)


There is a lot of bad that can be said about this 1987 Troma Entertainment film, so let’s get it out of the way first and then focus on the interesting bits. It’s got very low production qualities, some of the acting is so wooden that you’d think the performers were cabinets, and its central premise and title are pure shock value. None of the people involved went on to do anything of any significance, it’s not notable for inspiring any other specific works, and it’s basically 81 minutes of musings strung together on one very daft idea. Serious Critics hated it then, Serious Critics hate it now, and Roger Ebert lasted 30 minutes before junking it in as he was bored.
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