Thought I'd have a bit of fun here and choose some of the best of repulsively ugly, stomach-churning, out-and-out grubby, VHS cover 'art'. The ones that would make you squirm as a kid, yet had a strange hold...as much as they repelled, the sheer grotesque quality of the images had a forbidden allure that would burn a mental note into your brain - "I MUST see that film one day" (well, I can live without seeing The Worm Eaters and Bad Taste Movie No 1). Here's a grab-bag of my personal favourites:
The Last Cannibal World Greek VHS. Well, it tells it how it is...
Bad Taste Movie No.1 Australian (???) VHS. Can somebody please tell what the fuck this is?????? No details anywhere, no stills, not a pip. And no-one whose actually seen the thing (or who'll admit to it).
Pieces Australian VHS. That bloodied hand on the back cover...a perfect grubby image for a perfect grubby film.
Xtro Australian VHS. Hypnotised me as a kid and I actually saw this film as a 7-year-old, leading me straight into the path of the Inferno...
Eaten Alive Australian VHS. Pure class, often found in the 'Adult' section of video shops.
Island of Perversion Australian VHS. Another regular occupant of the 'Adult' shelves.
Island of Death (aka Who Could Kill a Child?) Australian VHS.
Bloody Moon Australian VHS
Demons Australian VHS
This Violent World Australian VHS
The Mad Butcher Australian VHS. Can practically smell rancid carcasses and innards emanating from this. **Thanks to Joel Branagh for the scan**
The Last Cannibal World UK VHS. Though slightly more subtle than the Greek sleeve, this one still is high up in the grubby stakes - the stills featured on the cover appear to have been dunked in a bucket of scum beforehand, and the cover itself is a perfect shade of spew... **Thanks to Ben Buckingham for the scan, check out Ben's Instagram at https://instagram.com/dissolvedpet/**
The Worm Eaters Australian VHS. And here is it.....dum-dum-de-dum....the granddaddy of all gross-out covers...and indeed the ONLY VHS cover that has literally put me off my food. I recall seeing this at the local video store as a kid and just could not get that burger and forkful of worms out of my mind...and having previously read the review...I knew that these were NOT 'pretend worms'. At home later, I absolutely could not stomach the corn chips and salsa dip being passed around as I could not get these bloody visions of close-ups of mouths chewing down on these wriggly, slimy things, then imagining them still alive in the persons' stomachs! Oh, the memories.... **Thanks for John Harrison for the scan**
Showing posts with label VHS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label VHS. Show all posts
Friday, 20 February 2015
Monday, 9 December 2013
'VHS Resurrection' - Melbourne's first public VHS Swapmeet
Had a great time at the ‘VHS Resurrection’ event that was part of this year’s Monsterfest on November 30th. The proceedings kicked off at Cinema Nova in Carlton with a VHS Swapmeet, which I believe is the first one of its kind held to the public in Melbourne. My only issue here is that this part of the event really needed to be held in a more suitable venue, as there was no proper room for people to display their tapes, so videos ended up being dumped randomly everywhere on the cinema seats, creating confusion as to who they actually belonged to. Otherwise, I had lots of fun zipping around the piles of tapes, checking out rarities such as the rare hologram edition of THE VIDEO DEAD (which I haven’t seen since 1988!), THIS VIOLENT WORLD, CARNIVAL OF BLOOD and the ever-popular ISLAND OF PERVERSION.
Soon after the audience settled in to watch the superlative documentary VIDEO NASTIES: MORAL PANIC, CENSORSHIP & VIDEOTAPE (its director, Jake West, was meant to be in attendance, but unfortunately had to cancel at the last minute). If you haven’t seen the doco yet about this sorry chapter in censorship history, do so now!!!! The DVD has just been officially released in Australia for a measly $25 (consisting of a triple-disc set and free ‘Video Nasties’ poster). Next up was a very welcome surprise screening of the shot-on-video laugh riot BOARDINGHOUSE. I’m truly glad that I finally got to see THIS masterpiece, the very studly Warwick Capper-esque director/leading man resplendent in his seXXXy leopard skin speedos and gold jewellery won't fail to give me nightmares for weeks on end.
The director/star of Boardinghouse, Warwick Capper...oops, John Wintergate
Saturday, 2 November 2013
‘Animal Farm’ and the tragedy of Bodil Joensen
The 2006 documentary
THE DARK SIDE OF PORN: THE REAL ANIMAL FARM provides an intriguing look at the
background of one of the most infamous pornographic videotapes of all time,
‘Animal Farm’, as well as the tragic life of its star performer, Bodil Joensen.
Due to its bestiality content I have no interest in seeing the actual film, but
I’ve long been fascinated by the shroud of notoriety surrounding the film as
well as the troubled story of Joensen (in the various photographs I’ve seen of
her, I always noticed a sad, almost haunted, look in her eyes) and why and what
exactly led her to perform in these sorts of productions.
Featuring
many interviews with collaborators and friends of Joensen such as filmmakers
Ole Ege and Shinkichi Tajiri, as well as
a variety of others providing their opinion on the film such as Germaine Greer
and ‘Headpress’ editor David Kerekes (“There’s only so much filth you can
wallow in – I think ‘Animal Farm’’s pretty much at the bottom of the pit”), not
to mention many non-explicit
excerpts from Joensen’s films, plenty of rare stills, and a non-judgmental
voice-over, THE REAL ANIMAL FARM provides a wealth of information for anyone
interested in the story behind the tape.
The documentary begins with a look at the home video
revolution that took off in the early 1980’s in England. For the first time in
history, consumers were able to borrow or purchase programmes of their choice
and watch them as many times as they liked in the comfort of their own home.
Naturally the success of the VCR led to a massive demand for pornographic
titles, especially illegal hardcore material – one in four VHS tapes on the
market was a porno. With the demand for ever more sensational films growing
(including the lurid horror and sexploitation titles soon to be known as ‘The
Video Nasties’), bootlegging and piracy became rife. Seizing the lucrative
money-making opportunity, dupers took to smuggling in more extreme XXX material
into the UK from more sexually permissive countries such as Denmark and
Holland. In mid-1981, four zoophilia tapes, collectively known as ‘Animal
Farm’, were snuck past British customs into the country (it should be noted
that the ‘films’ have no official title; the tapes became universally known as
‘Animal Farm’ due to underground dealers, traders and collectors always
referring to it by that name).
'Animal Farm’s’ content itself was a compilation of
clips from various films Bodil Joensen had starred in, and assorted Color
Climax Corporation bestiality loops (the original source of the tape was in
fact from Color Climax, a hugely successful Danish porn production/distribution
outfit catering to more ‘specialised’ tastes). The narrator explains “’Animal
Farm’ has no plot, but shows countless indecent acts including penetrative,
anal and oral sex with every conceivable animal”. Indeed the
grimy-looing snippets shown of randy, elderly ‘backwoods’ looking farmers
and grubby, unwashed farm girls about to engage in copulations was more than
enough for me. The first wave of video dupers sold copies of ‘Animal
Farm’ to Soho sex shop dealers for up to 70 pounds each, and subsequently the
‘under-the-counter’ tapes sold to customers like hotcakes. Police raids in Soho
did uncover the ‘Animal Farm’ tapes, however they were too late to stop the
film from being widely distributed. It was a matter of time before the
film became nationally, then internationally, known as an underground legend,
often viewed as a gross-out curio rather than a masturbatory aid. Even during my years
at high school in the 90’s, it was still being sniggered about by knowing
teenage boys upon the mention of George Orwell’s novel of the same title in
classes. I’ve also had it verified that at a certain Victorian country football
club in the 1980’s, ‘Animal Farm’ was screened to adolescent boys (along with
other highly dubious material) during their infamous ‘piss, pies and porn’
fundraiser nights. Even more disturbingly, these films were supplied to the
football club by the local police (!!!) Coincidentally, in his book Hip Pocket Sleaze, John Harrison mentions a similar story he was told when purchasing an old collection of 8mm stag loops from regional Victoria. Only difference being one of the particular films shown at the particular football club he was told about was THE ANAL DWARF (!!!!)
But what of
Bodil Joensen, the first ever widely recognisable person to appear in a bestialily
porn video? During her heyday, the unkempt but pretty, voluptuous blonde with
striking blue eyes appeared to be a vivacious, free-spirited ‘child of nature’;
a vanguard of free love. Few were aware of the horrifically abusive childhood
Joensen suffered and of one particular traumatic event which was to change the
course of the scarred young girl’s life forever.
Born in 1944, Joensen was brought up by a devoutly Christian mother in Hundige, a small provincial village near Copenhagen. Her father, a military officer, was absent for most of her childhood, and her sexually repressed mother was extremely physically and emotionally abusive. If the young Bodil was seen simply chatting to a boy after school, she was whipped brutally. Her mother’s abuse caused her to withdraw from other children. At the age of 12, when walking home from school Joensen was violently raped by a man who forced her into a deserted train station waiting room. Bodil told her unsympathetic mother, who viciously beat her and said she was to blame for the rape. The traumatised, confused and resentful girl made a promise that would haunt her for the rest of her days. In spite to shock her mother, she made a pledge that she would have sex with boars. As Bodil grew older, her oath to her mother slowly began to manifest itself. Lonely and isolated from human affection, Bodil sought solace from the animals she loved. Her first sexual encounter with an animal was with her beloved German Shepard, her only friend and closest companion and soon after at 15, she left her mother’s farm, never to return. Both to flee the abuse she had endured and as a backlash against the traditional, religious lifestyle her mother wished for her to follow.
Alienated from her family and homeless in the Danish countryside, Joensen found work as a farmhand and eventually set up her own animal husbandry business, ‘Insemination Central’. However, malicious rumours soon were spread by the conservative farmer’s wives who were jealous of the attractive, outgoing young girl and prevented their husbands from associating with her, subsequently leading to a major loss of funds. Desperate to keep her pigs, failing business and home, Bodil saw a money-making opportunity in zoophilia pornography. Initially appearing in ‘light fetish’ porn produced by Ole Ege, she then contacted Color Climax Corporation with the proposal of appearing in bestiality loops for them. A venture that was to make the company millions. Within a few months after this transition, she had earned enough to keep her business afloat. From 1969 to 1972, Joensen appeared in over 40 feature films and 8mm loops of this nature.

A key film from this period was the documentary short BODIL JOESEN: A SUMMERDAY by Japanese-American underground filmmaker Shinkichi Tariji. Tariji, intrigued by Joensen and her way of life, shot four days of footage of at her farmhouse, intending to show the ‘real’ Bodil to the public, not just the anonymous sex performer. The documentary shows Bodil living with her animals on her farm (“two rabbits, seven dogs, a dozen pigs, some cats, a guinea pig, a mare and a beautiful black stallion named Dreamlight”), including their care, her affection for them, and her sexual life. This footage is intercut with numerous photographs of Joensen and her family and magazine articles.
A SUMMERDAY
was the surprise winner of Amsterdam’s 1970 Wet Dream Film Festival (attended
by a combination of the mackintosh brigade and the free-love hippie crowd) This
turned Joensen into an underground superstar overnight and a symbol of the
‘permissiveness’ and open-mindness of the era. Other documentary crews from
around the world captured the young farm girl’s exploits on film.
Much of the
footage compiled in ‘Animal Farm’ is said to have been culled from A SUMMERDAY as well as San Francisco roughie auteur
Alex de Renzy’s ANIMAL LOVER. Jack Stevenson in Shock Xpress Book 2 notes “...to
appreciate the accomplishments of A SUMMERDAY, it should be seen alongside its
brain-damaged twin, ANIMAL LOVER, perhaps the crudest and rudest exploitation
film ever.” A clumsily shot, inept and relentlessly ugly ‘pseudo-documentary’, it is
narrated by a inarticulate, rambling ‘distinguished’ looking type ala Dr. Francis B. Gross from FACES OF
DEATH wearing thick glasses and a red polka dot tie. According to Stevenson, “Bodil’s
stock repertoire of sex acts is almost identical to those shown in the other
films, but here there are more close-ups and zoom shots, and the scenes last
longer, with little camera movement.” One particular staged segment manages to
hit a new low point, even for shockumentaries. A young woman claims to have
been kidnapped by a group of sadistic Arab men when holidaying in Marrakesh and
held as a sex slave for months, including being forced to have sex with dogs.
Stevensen states “...this section of ANIMAL LOVER must rank as one of the
misguided, ghastly and hideous attempts at titillation ever.”
Joensen
happily allowed the documentary makers to film her as well as visiting sex
tourists who arrived at her farm by the busloads. She enjoyed both the media attention
as well as the financial reapings, which allowed her to achieve her dream goal;
purchasing her own farm. As the 1970’s drew to a close Joensen’s life was almost
settling down into a ‘regular’ domestic existence, living with her partner Knud
Andersen and their daughter (born in 1972). Amongst her pornographic activities,
Bodil was still running Insemination Central with the assistance of Andersen.
To subsidise the upkeep of the animals, Joensen was still allowing sex tourists
access to the farm in order to make their own private bestiality movies. By
this time, financially lucrative pornographers were looking elsewhere for new
moneymaking hardcore action kicks, and the Danish porn industry turned its back
on her. Bodil was now in her mid-30’s and unable to secure any more movie contracts,
and only amateur filmmakers were still interested in her. Unfortunately the
dawn of a new decade would mark the beginning of a rapid decline for the “Boar
Girl”.
By 1980, the
only income Joensen could bring in was from
performing live sex acts with her dog in a number of small clubs in Copenhagen.
In order to survive, she was having to perform a gruelling 3 shows a night for
7 days a week. To her friends Joensen presented a facade of happiness, however
the reality was that her personal life was rapidly spirally out of control. Suffering
from severe depression, she was smoking up to 100 cigarettes a day, overeating
(leading to a weight gain of 30 kilos/65 pounds) and drinking heavily. Her partner Knud was also an alcoholic and
their addiction rendered them incapable of looking after the animals on the
farm. In 1981, police and animal welfare officers raided their farm after a
tip-off from locals. The officials were astounded and horrified by what they
discovered - the farm was in an extreme state of decay. Pigs were drowning in a
metre and a half of their own excrement. A decomposing carcass of a pig was
found, half eaten by the other starving pigs. Sadly, not one of the animals
survived as it was necessary for all to be euthanised. Joensen was charged with
severe neglect and animal abuse and sentenced to 30 days jail. Upon her release
from prison and having lost her business and beloved animals, the devastated
Joensen reluctantly resorted to prostitution to support her partner and
daughter, hiring a seedy room in Copenhagen’s red-light district. Desperate to
fuel her alcohol addiction, she willingly exchanged sex for cheap liquor. Joensen
openly loathed the sex work she was forced to undertake, as she stated in her
final interview in the early 1980’s: “In my situation it’s very hard to turn
down the most disgusting propositions. For me, staying alive in the hooking
business is hell.” Ironically, at the same time as Bodil was struggling to
survive, she was being screened in homes all over Britain, then subsequently the
world, as bootlegs of ‘Animal Farm’ became widely circulated.
Towards the
end of her life, Bodil was drinking a bottle and a half of schnapps a day as
well as being hooked on out-of-date tranquilizers supplied by a back-street
doctor. Her friends had deserted her and she had no one to turn to, save from
her equally alcohol dependent partner. A broken woman, she was prematurely aged,
obese, and having abandoned her ‘cheerful’ front, often appeared worn, tired
and sad. A far cry from the lively “Queen of the Boars” seen in countless
documentaries only a decade previously. Bodil Joensen passed away on 3 January
1985 of cirrhosis of the
liver, aged just forty. Her partner Knud Andersen died in 1997 aged sixty seven
and was buried with Joensen in a cemetery in Copenhagen.
THE DARK SIDE
OF PORN: THE REAL ANIMAL FARM concludes by noting the explosion of extreme,
specialised pornography readily available since Joensen’s heyday. “What started
as a trickle of illegal hardcore tapes is now a torrent of the most extreme material
imaginable, easily accessible within a few clicks. The porno industry is
constantly on the lookout for any new fetish to capture and sell to a global
market.”
The
multi-million dollar industry of pornography will continue to grow and women like
Bodil Joensen will seemily be always attracted to it and of achieving fame
and fortune. After almost thirty years after her death, the woman dubbed “The
Queen of Bestiality” still remains a cult figure. Some claim her to be a
pioneer of sexual freedom and expression, but others see an abused, naive woman
ruthlessly exploited by the industry she represented.
Friday, 30 August 2013
Alien Terror (1980) - review
Alien Terror
1980
Starring:
Belinda Mayne, Marc Bodin, ‘Michael Shaw’ (Michele Soavi)
Cave
explorer Thelma (Mayne) has been invited to appear on a TV talk show to discuss
her experiences. At the same time, a space shuttle is due to return to Earth.
Thelma is asked about the most recent cave she and her friends have visited,
but as she begins to speak, she receives a telepathic warning to stop her from
revealing the location of the cave. The space shuttle lands in the ocean, but
there is no trace of the astronauts who should have been on board. Thelma meets
up with her friends (who, in a laughable attempt to appeal to the American
market, have names such as ‘Jill’, ‘Cliff’ ‘Bert’ and ‘Roy’, are hanging out at
the local bowling alley, drinking sodas and prone to using such sayings as “far
out!”), who are planning to return to the cave which Thelma was prevented from
discussing. On a beach nearby, a little girl wanders away from her babysitter
and finds a weird blue pulsating rock. She picks it up and soon after, the
babysitter finds her with a bloody, mutilated face. En route to the cave, the
explorers find a similar blue stone, and decide to take it with them.
They arrive
at their destination, an immense network of tunnels, and split into small
groups. The stone, which Thelma has been carrying in her backpack begin
pulsating; it explodes and a red gooey thing flies onto Jill’s face. She falls
into a pit and one of the guys goes to help her. When he is doing so, the
‘thing’ breaks out from under Jill’s face (a great gooey effect) and attaches
itself to the guy’s neck, gorily decapitating him. The film then goes into body
count mode as the others try to escape; the splattery highlights including
Bert’s face being eaten off and Cliff’s entire body exploding. Thelma and Roy
manage to find the exit and they head back into town, however it is entirely
deserted. In the film’s one genuinely eerie scene, they return to the empty
bowling alley to find the equipment operating by itself. Roy disappears and
Thelma soon encounters the mother alien – rendered by a shot of the creature’s
gaping mouth). Thelma, the town’s only survivor, runs out onto the street, and
the film ends with the el cheapo caption ‘You may be next!’
This unashamed Alien rip-off (released as Alien
2 in some territories – this is actually the title that appeared at the
beginning of the Australian VHS release!) is as corny and cliched as hell but
it’s also a lot of fun. The gore effects are surprisingly good, and the caves,
though not visually outstanding, are quite effective, full of stalagmites and
stalactites. The film has a generally more upbeat atmosphere than most Italian
horror films, with its use of bright sunshine, dumb humor and pleasant Guido
and Maurizio De Angelis (under the pseudo ‘Oliver Onions’) title track.
On the downside, Ippolito wastes far too much time on unimportant shots,
padding out the movie’s running time with endless scenes of people driving
around in cars. Ippolito’s direction is routine, with his main intention (in
the Italian tradition) to cash in on the latest Hollywood blockbuster quickly
and cheaply. Switch your brain off and enjoy!
Friday, 23 August 2013
The Jekyll and Hyde Portfolio (1971) - review
The Jekyll and Hyde
Portfolio
1971
Director:
Eric Jeffrey Haims
Starring:
Sebastian Brook, Mady Maguire, Rene Bond
The
pre-cert Intervision VHS release of THE JEKYLL AND HYDE PORTFOLIO is well-known
amongst collectors to be one of the rarest Australian tapes around and even
back in the golden age of video this was never an easy title to find, due to an
extremely limited release. A near-mint copy showed up on Ebay a couple of years
ago, pocketing a cool $2000 for its lucky owner. Unfortunately that, and the
fact that it’s evidence of the dumping ground Australia was in the early 80s
for obscure trash rarities, is the most interesting thing about this exercise
in tedium. In the 19th century, a professor, under the influence of
ever-changing multiple personalities and the zodiac sign he was born under,
goes on a murderous rampage. Filled with headache-inducing Milliganesque bad
camerawork, bad editing, bad lighting, bad acting, bad plot, bad effects, bad
sex scenes. And no, none of this is in the 'so bad it's good category'. Somehow
I don’t see a Blu-Ray or DVD release in the near or distant future, thank
Christ...
Monday, 20 May 2013
VHS nostalgia and discovering Eurohorror in the (former) backwaters of Melbourne
Gamon Video Centre, Charles Street, Seddon, est. 1983. One of the longest surviving independent video stores in Melbourne.
My earliest memories of the video era are from the
mid-1980’s, when every week my family would trek into a long-gone store called
‘Top 20 Video’, located on a dismal shopping strip in a semi-industrial area of Braybrook, Melbourne. With my parents having to adhere to a
strict budget, videos provided hours of inexpensive entertainment and were
still a relatively new phenomenon, so I’d always look forward to those
excursions. Even though I was only around 6 or 7, I always gravitated towards
the horror section, where the vivid, garish video slicks repelled and
fascinated me at the same time. I recall being particularly intrigued by the
covers of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
(like with many others the title and artwork immediately had me convinced that
it must be the most gory, bloody, frightening film ever made), Xtro, the Friday the 13th and Halloween
movies, The Brood, Bloody Birthday,
Visiting Hours, Ants, and Black Roses (I vaguely recall Black Roses being featured on one of
the typically misinformed current affairs shows at the time as a prime example
of ‘video violence’. No doubt increasing rentals to increase for that title
tenfold). I also was drawn to the ‘novelty’ covers
popular at the time, such as The Video
Dead’s limited edition slick featuring a holographic sticker of a zombie
head coming out from a TV set and the Fright
Night 2 coffin box. And of course there was the notorious ‘Banned in
Queensland’ slogan (deliberately slapped on usually forgettable dreck as a
marketing ploy to increase rentals), the most memorable example was walking
into the store one day and seeing a massive poster for Silent Night Deadly Night, with the killer decked in his
murderous Santa garb, wielding an axe, topped by huge font screaming the immortal
words ‘BANNED IN QUEENSLAND’.
Highest in the queasy stakes for me was the cover of The Worm Eaters, featuring a grotesque photo of its director/star Herb Robins about to devour a slimy forkful of live worms. I’ve always had a strong stomach, but later at home upon being offered a bag of corn chips and salsa dip, unfortunately the image of Herb devouring his worm supper came back as I began to eat and I could feel my insides doing backflips. Definitely a cover that put me off my food for the rest of the night! Inevitably my family’s choices in viewing would either be horror, comedy or martial-arts movies and I was permitted to watch what was considered the more ‘tame’ horror fare (such as Poltergeist, The Gate, Creepshow 2, Tobe Hooper’s Invaders from Mars and Psycho). However with my older brother, sister and cousins always around, and my parents often preoccupied with work, household chores and family dramas, I was usually present when the older kids were viewing Evil Dead, Amityville 2: The Possession, An American Werewolf in London, Xtro, Alien, The Thing and A Nightmare on Elm Street.
Over the next few years my fascination with horror took a
backseat as I became hooked on Amiga and PC computer games, but in 1994 my then
best friend got bitten by the horror bug. Her family owned a video store (Gamon
Video Centre in Seddon, which is still open today and is one of the few
surviving independent video/DVD rental stores in Melbourne), so we had access
to all the latest genre releases. Which were pretty woeful at the time (Ghost in the Machine, Brainscan, Man’s Best
Friend, Buffy the Vampire Slayer ad nasuem). Horror was pretty much seen as
a dirty word in the early-mid 90’s, and so apart from the occasional
‘respectable’ big-budget studio releases (Interview
with the Vampire, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Wolf), horror fans seeking new
fright flicks generally had to wade through a sea of direct to video flotsam. The last straw for me was enduring a
particularly excruciating pile of said direct-to-video excrement called The Club, the less said about the
better.
A glimmer of hope surfaced when one day at the local
library, I discovered two books which helped introduced me to a whole new
horror world – Kim Newman’s Nightmare
Movies and Phil Hardy’s The Aurum
Encyclopedia of Horror Movies. These groundbreaking tomes introduced me to
European genre aueters such as Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci, Jess Franco and
Ruggero Deodato, as well as key titles such as Dawn of the Dead and Last
House on the Left. Coincidentally
SBS screened a letterboxed, uncut subtitled print of Deep Red at that time, and the film completely blew me away. The
stunning visuals, cinematography and Goblin soundtrack left me awestruck and
wanting to seek out more of the director’s output immediately. I knew Sunshine Video Ezy stocked a few of
his titles, so following an unsuccessful attempt to talk the customer service
person into letting me sign up using a library card and birth certificate
extract as ID (I was 14), I simply borrowed my older brother’s membership card
and hired them out without any trouble (fortunately they were much more lax
about things like that. As well as stocking banned dupes of the Faces of Death series in their
‘Documentary’ section, by all accounts a particularly popular rental ). In a
short amount of time I’d viewed Phenomena,
Tenebrae, Suspiria, Inferno, Opera and
Trauma.
During this time my parents were going through a prolonged,
acrimonious separation and divorce, and I was not shielded from their many
bitter fights and animosity towards each other. Though I had close, supportive
friends, this was not enough to distract from the feelings of sadness and loss
that impacted me as a result of the family breakup. The Eurohorror films
offered an escape for me, an exotic other world which I fully immersed myself
into. I began renting every Fulci, Deodato, Bava and any other movies of this
ilk I could find, never mind that many were cut-to-fuck and residing forlornly on the bottom shelves
gathering dust and major sunbleaching (the same tapes that collectors now
happily pay hundreds of dollars for).
In the 90’s I was a regular visitor to record fairs held
around Melbourne and while wandering around one held at the Royal Exhibition
Buildings in early 1996, I stumbled across a stall which looked vastly
different to all the others selling boxes of vinyl records – the table was
covered with duped VHS tapes of uncut and unavailable horror titles in
Australia, as well as imported Goblin and other Eurohorror CD soundtracks. A TV
and VCR set up on one of the tables was even playing Michele Soavi’s The Church, one of my most coveted
movies at the time. I had arrived at Phantastique Video, the most well-known
horror/cult/trash mail-order dupe operation in Melbourne, ran by Gregg Lewis
from the mid 1990’s-early 2000’s. Gregg was manning the stall that day, along
with Adam Lee, who helped stocked Phantastique with its jaw-dropping range of
titles (everything from uncut Fulci, Franco and D’Amato to XXX fare to at the
time banned cult classics such as A
Clockwork Orange, Last House on the
Left and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
2). Being low on cash I was only
able to purchase a copy of Last House,
but I made sure to take a catalogue before I left and over the years I must
have spent thousands of dollars on dupes of everything I wanted to see (seeing The Beyond and Zombi Holocaust uncut was a revelation – no jarring cuts before
eyeball and cranium violence!) I also kept in touch with Adam, who boasts possibly
one of the best Eurohorror soundtrack collections in Australia, including a
near-complete set of Goblin and solo ex-Goblin member vinyl albums and
currently runs the brilliant blog ‘Spasmo Mixtape’ (which before the demise of
Megaupload contained a wealth of tracks from Adam’s collection).
Also in 1996 I discovered Polyester Books’ stash of
bootlegged tapes, which gave me access to my first viewing of Cannibal Holocaust. Needless to say I
was shocked and stunned by Ruggero Deodato’s brutal masterpiece – the film has
lost none of its power even after at least a dozen subsequent viewings – and
the tape’s nth generation quality and Venezuelan subtitles only added to its
devastating effect, giving it a ‘snuff movie from bedlam’ feel.
Occasionally I’d dig up a cheap $5 ex-rental tape of
interest (The Ghastly Ones, Moon of the
Wolf) from long-gone outlets such as Vidz of Oz in Thornbury and The Video
Collection on Elizabeth Street in the city. Or I’d venture into the odd
suburban Cash Converters every now and then (the original release of Evil Dead was a regular site there).
Unfortunately I had no idea of the profits old K & C, Star Video and Video
Classics titles would snap up on Ebay two decades later, not to mention Evil Dead – if I did I would have taken
these video hunts much more seriously and not have ignored snapping up these
old tapes I’d regularly bypass!
Upon turning 18 I set about joining a number of video stores
around Melbourne, the jewel in the crown for me being Video Busters in Collingwood.
A goldmine for more obscure titles, the store housed a huge cult movie section
and even sorted the genre’s well-known directors into categories. I was happy
to regularly catch a bus, a train and a tram from where I lived at the time to
get to the Collingwood outlet, always returning home with a backpack full of
tapes. The store was instrumental in enabling me to delve further into the
Mario and Lamberto Bava and Jess Franco catalogues, and to catch up with
viewing essential ‘controversial’ titles such as The Driller Killer, Nightmare and Pieces. As well as providing
some ‘memorable’ viewings of irredeemable crap like the excruciating Christiane
F cash-in Hanna D – The Girl from Vondel
Park, Killer’s Moon and Dawn of the Mummy. Video Busters Collingwood
is still around today, however its incredible VHS library has been sold off and
the shelves are now dominated by far too many glossy but mostly forgettable
big-budget Blu-Ray and DVD new releases.
Video Busters Collingwood in all its pastel-coloured glory
International mail-order outfits were also big business in
the 90’s, including Florida’s Video Search of Miami. VSoM had a 60 page
catalogue offering an incredibly vast range of product. I was a little
apprehensive about having to initially pay a $10 ‘non-refundable initiation fee’,
and the tapes themselves weren’t exactly cheap ($ 25 a pop) but figured it was
worth it as I naively assumed I’d be getting, at the least, decent quality tapes.
I ordered the David Cronenberg documentary Long
Live the New Flesh, the Cronenberg-starring short Blue, and the ‘Argento Collectors Package’ (a compilation tape
consisting of two Dario Argento interviews and a fashion show he directed for
Italian television in 1986). Several weeks later Australia Post delivered the
tapes to my door, and I immediately loaded up the VCR with the Argento
cassette. And much to my surprise instead of the Argento programmes appearing
on my TV screen I got some European porno flick instead! (I was so pissed off I
didn’t bother to find out what it was). Either this was a genuine error (uh
huh), or more likely someone who thought they’d get a laugh or their jollies
with this pathetic stunt. Fortunately the other tapes had the content they were
meant to have, but I was far from impressed. Not only with the ‘mix-up’- but with
the shitty, barely watchable muddy quality of the dupes. I never expect perfect
quality from bootlegs, but after paying extortion, oops a ‘membership fee’ and
more than above-average prices I expected better. Needless to say, I didn’t waste my time
ordering from Video Search of Miami again.
Attending a record fair in 2000 I discovered on the flyers
table an advertisement for a shop called ‘Inferno Video’ in the city on
Elizabeth Street, specialising in horror, cult and exploitation movies. As soon
as I could I found the address and found myself outside a door with fluorescent
‘THIS IS NOT A SEX SHOP’ signs plastered all over it. Somewhat tentatively, I
opened the door and ventured up the narrow staircase that awaited me, entering
a room chock-full of rare tapes. This one space contained many of the most
hard-to-find and sort after VHS titles in Australia, such as The Lonely Violent Beach, Hitch-Hike, To be Twenty, Island of
Perversion, Primitives, Farewell Uncle Tom and many more
.....and the best thing was that they were available to rent. In the early days
of Inferno, Peter (the owner) was happy to loan out his truly amazing collection
but he ceased rentals a few years later.
Another fondly-remembered Melbourne mail-order (and
subsequent online) store of note was author John Harrison’s ‘The Graveyard
Tramp’ , specialising in dupes, ex-rental tapes, books, magazines, posters, and
KISS memorabilia. Along with top-quality service, John always offered a
consistently varying range of product, including a great mix of local and
international zines.
In the Noughties and beyond, the introduction and subsequent
popularity of DVD’s, torrents, streaming video and Blu-Ray discs has effectively
eliminated having to leave the house or tracking down the right contacts to
search for formerly elusive films, save for the most obscure titles. Pretty
much everything I used to have to wait weeks for though the post, or spend
years searching for, is now available within minutes online. Which of course is
fantastic for accessibility and convenience, not to mention the far superior
quality of Blu-Ray compared to VHS, but the sheer thrill of scouring random
video outlets and discovering lonely copies of Bloody Moon, Murderock and
Dario Argento’s World of Horror emblazoned with $1 Weekly Hire stickers,
pouring over the goodies in mail-order catalogues, and reading about formerly
mythical films not touched by the mainstream horror press like the early works
of Michael and Roberta Findlay in ‘labour of love’ zines, is something that can
never be replaced.
Thursday, 21 February 2013
Cannibals (1980) - Review
Cannibals
1980
Starring: Al
Cliver, Sabrina Siani, Lina Romay
Here’s yet
another grimy entry into the dubious cannibal subgenre – only this time Senor
Franco is at the helm. ‘Specialist in tropical diseases’ Al Cliver travels to a
remote jungle with his wife and young daughter and are ambushed by the world’s
first Causasian, gold wedding-ring and sneaker wearing cannibal tribe (or maybe
Cannibal Terror wins that honour). Cliver’s
wife is chowed down in the first of many weird slo-mo close ups of the tribe
chowing down on butcher’s scraps and his daughter is captured. Al manages to
escape, but not before one of his arms is hacked off (thus having to spend the
rest of the movie with an arm very obviously tied behind his back!) Years
later, after overcoming amnesia, Cliver returns to the jungle with an
expedition of underdeveloped characters in search of his long-lost daughter.
After the rest of the expedition has been killed off, he eventually finds her –
she has been adopted as the tribe as their ‘White Goddess’. Not to mention her
remarkable transformation from a dark haired, olive skinned child to a platinum
blonde woman with a fair complexion?!?! At first she is reluctant to leave but
then she is freed when Cliver spares the life of the tribe’s leader. Cue happy
ending music...
Slot this
amongst the aforementioned Cannibal
Terror, Primitives and Franco’s
own Devil Hunter as one of the worst
cannibal films ever made (and indeed this is one of Jess Franco’s worst in his
hit-and miss career).Riddled with continuity errors, annoying shaky camerawork,
awful muzak score and general Franco skeeziness, I honestly can’t think of one
decent thing to say about it. Except that I’d wished I’d nabbed the now scarce
Australian VHS tape back when you’d walk into almost any video store in
Melbourne inevitably one of the first tapes you’d always see in the horror
section was its garish orange and pink cover,
emblazoned with a $1 rental sticker, languishing forlornly on the bottom
shelf gathering dust. Definitely amusing to see one of the most infamous
‘least-wanted’ video titles is now a valuable collectable!
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