Weirdling_Wolf

1st there was the snoozy shocker It Follows, which then flaccidly begot the equally unexciting, Jumpscare-grotty Smile. I have quite severe OCD, so, annoyingly, I must endure all films to the bitter end, even if they almost immediately prove themselves to be as ruthlessly insipid as Smile! That being said, it wasn't entirely without mirthful incident, I undeniably smirked at the amusingly silly twisty-turny head bobbins, and Marilyn Manson's bravely make up free cameo at the film's glaring anti-climax engendered a modestly-sized grin! Sadly, two splendidly silly bits do not a credible horror film make. Therefore, I humbly propose that someone produces 'Rictus', a big boy horror film with ACTUAL scary bits! Granted, it's a crazy idea, but it just might work! Like so many, no less Jump Scare-spastic contemporary horror films, Smile suffers greatly from its lacklustre text, placidly invoking all the genuine terror of a Playmobile Pirate. It genuinely saddens me that so many horror films are produced today without a vestige of originality, all under the gross misapprehension that gratuitously photorealistic gore, and dully repetitive Jump scares can miraculously compensate for a prodigious lack of narrative invention!

Polo neck-tastic teen idol Frankie Avalon stars in Michael Armstrong's modestly swinging sixties slasher The Haunted House of Horror. The carnage bloodily commences once a group of bored, boozy companions seek supernatural kicks in a spooky derelict building, only to discover that one of them is a crazed, Carnaby Street-clad psychopath! Tigon Films lavishly lurid output, over time, has, quite rightly, become something of a national cinematic treasure. With gaudy soap opera theatrics, and groovily garish schmutter, The Haunted House of Horror is both a thrilling terror-tinged time capsule, and one of the very few day-glo Gialli produced in the UK. Absolutely not to be taken remotely seriously, feverishly playing out like a stab-happy Hanna-Barbera cartoon, The Haunted House of Horror is arguably more fun seen today than upon its initial release. Fans of lively vintage British horror should adore it, those who have had their mind's sullied by a tawdry deluge of jump-scares might, perhaps, be less enthralled. Composer Reg Tisley's memorable theme is terrific, and Silvia's (Gina Warwick) saucily geometric go-go outfit is deserving of a mini-documentary unto itself! Dazzling in its pristine HD restoration, Armstrong's somewhat neglected, not often fondly remembered 60s shocker has happily endured, the heady admixture of frisky fashions, sickly passions, and full-blooded distractions remain utterly irresistible!

The 60s unleashed Grand Guignol masterpiece Eyes without a Face, bad taste prevailed gorgeously in the 80s with Jess Franco's immaculately tasteless Faceless, and squirming ignominiously between them is the face without eyes monstrosity Mansion of The Doomed! Despairing eye surgeon Dr. Chaney's (Richard Basehart) ruthless denial of his Hippocratic oath provides 86 maniacal minutes of luridly stomach churning grotesquery. I can't help but feel that Dr. Chaney's work colleagues might have paid closer attention to the prophetically sardonic 'You don't have to be a mad scientist to work here, but it helps!' novelty on his desk! While you absolutely can't fault the good doctor's paternal desire to repair his daughter's sight, his monolithically macabre modus operandi sinisterly suggests that daddy doesn't always know best! Mansion of The Doomed isn't exactly a nice place to visit, and I certainly wouldn't want to live there, but its vile amenities certainly makes for one memorably eye-popping splatter film! While I am not proud of utilizing 'eye-popping' in my enthusing of Pataki's gruesome 70s shocker, and, perhaps, I am a little ashamed of my gaucheness, but I felt strangely compelled to use it. They often say seeing is believing, and master illusionist Stan Winston's disturbingly effective make-up proves their point with disgusting efficacy!