Cinemageddon Invites Available!

Love rare horror films & exploitation? I have plenty of spare invites for CG. If anyone wants one, just give me a shout... if you join though don't "hit & run" its a torrent site so you have to seed or your account will get deleted & the admins over there take away invite privileges from people who invite to many cheating bastards.

Terror At Blood Fart Lake (2009)



The films of Chris Seaver are for loving or for hating only. I doubt there's anyone out there who thinks his films are "just okay", or "kinda dumb". This guy will leave an impression one way or the other. And in the world of micro-budget filmmaking, that's quite rare, especially these days. The first Sevaer flick I ever saw was Terror At Blood Fart Lake. For years, I had heard about an earlier movie of his, Mulva Zombie Ass Kicker, and its reputation as one of the worst films ever made. But after reading a couple of positive reviews about one of Seaver's newest films, Terror At Blood Fart Lake, I finally thought it was time to give this guy a shot. Guess I was feeling a bit open minded that day.

So, I took a chance and bought the dvd. And when the day came that I finally watched it, I was far from pleased with my most recent purchase. This movie started out very annoying, and continued to get more and more annoying by the minute. I expected stupidity, considering the title, but this obnoxious shit really caught me off guard. I cracked not one smile for the 70-something minutes this film went for. I'm now fighting the urge to eject the dvd and break it right before it goes in the trash. I haven't thrown a dvd away since suffering through Meir Zarchi's Don't Mess With My Sister. And I watched all of that one, so, I figured I'd go aheadand see this one through, too. After it was over, I just stuck it in a drawer with the rest of the mistakes I've bought, and tried to forget. Oh, but I couldn't.

I kept thinking about how stupid this movie is, and how the idiot who made it, and the dumb fucks who starred in it, shouldn't be allowed to do anything like this ever again. And then, I thought to myself "I really need to see this, again". I don't know why. I just do. So, I open the drawer back up. Still stupid, still annoying. And a week or so later, I find myself watching it, again. Oh, shit! This has a commentary track. I gotta hear this. An explanation is definitely in order. So, I watch it again. But when listening to the commentary, which included Seaver, and 4 or 5 cast members, I found them all strangely likeable and entertaining to listen to. These people were all friends that just liked hanging out and making stupid B-movies together, who didn't take themselves one bit seriously. I can respect that. And while even Seaver admits to being a not so great director, It occured to me that some of the material, which he wrote, was absolutely hysterical, dare I say borderline genius. I finally got the joke. Chris Seaver and the LBP (Low Budget Pictures) gang finally won me over. And not only do I now want to see more of these movies, but I kinda want to hang out with these people. This is weird.

And of course, the next one I buy would be Mulva. Yeah. I totally had that one coming. That's a story better left for another day. Anyway, still excited about my discovery of this hilarious POS, I go on an Amazon shopping spree for any Chris Seaver films I can find. Not long after that, I owned about 15 LBP films. All awesome, all pretty bad. All ridiculous, but mostly in a good way. Some lower budgeted than others, depending on how old they were, but none quite as amazing as Blood Fart Lake. And years later, after seeing countless more of these, I still stand by that. But let me tell you about Terror At Blood Fart Lake.

This movie is just crazy. Wacky, silly, goofy and obnoxious as hell. Pretty damn vulgar, too. I can always understand why someone wouldn't like it. But there's just this upbeat charm about it. And a "we don't give a fuck" attitude that goes with it. Not much of a plot, really. 5 young people spend a weekend in a cabin by a a lake, owned by their pal, Hambone, who is killed in the first scene, shortly before they get there. His absence throughout the movie is barely acknowledged. The 5 young people consist of a loud yet friendly chick who has delusions of being an actress from the 30's, a 5,000 pound horny goth chick, her douchebag boyfriend who can't even get her name right, some idiot who only knows about 5 words, as well as some guy. Some guy is the main character, I guess. He seems completely out of place in this movie and seems dull compared to everyone else, because he's normal. That in itself is ammusing.

The ridiculous group is joined by who may be the funniest character in film history. An odd, feminine young man with an afro and abnormally large calves, named Caspian, forces his company on everyone and assures them he can be trusted since he "taught Hambone everything he knows", which is good enough for the gang. Besides the occasional killing by a masked scarecrow, not much happens to further the plot. Just Caspian and pals partying, talking about Ernest, and spouting some of the most ridiculous lines ever put to a script. Meanwhile, Thunder Ambrosia, a badass bitch with vengeance on her mind, is heading towards the cabin and hitches a ride from dumbass redneck, Leo DeChamp. These two bicker, flirt, say alot of stupid shit, and eventually take a fuck break where Thunder gets tons of fake-looking jizz sprayed all over her in what is one of the most pointless scenes in the movie, believe it or not. It's all pretty much pointless. But so much fun. The actors who portray Caspian and the gang continue to make asses of themselves, and clearly having a ball doing it. Hats off to the eccentric Josh Suire, who portrayed both Caspian and Leo. He really carried this movie, and made it far more entertaining than it should be. But considering there were no real actors in this movie (besides Ambrosia and Hambone), these guys actually did a really good job. At being funny more so than the acting. Which is far more important, anyway.

And so, that's where my Chris Seaver/LBP obsession started. Since 2009's Blood Fart Lake, Seaver has made many films, some of which are superior, quality-wise, but none have surpassed my first experience. A film I once hated so passionately now holds a special place in my heart for. For anyone who checks this out and likes what they see, you should also get a kick out of Wet Heat, Moist Fury, Sexquatch, Evil Dead Inbred Rednecks, Evil Night, I Spit Chew On Your Grave, Teenape Goes To Camp, and Deathbone, Third Blood Part VII: The Blood of Deathbone. All starring the same likeable non actors, along with the same spastic behavior, random weirdness, and vulgar humor, all from the mind of the great Chris Seaver. The most prolific and underrated B-movie director of the 2000's. A man whose fantastic ideas have long been ignored and shunned by most due to tiny budgets. But I believe that someday, the man will get noticed by the right person. And his crazy shit will finally get the recognition it deserves. Then someday, everyone will know of the greatness of Terror At Blood Fart Lake! 10/10



#Review #Slasher

Hardest User on Trash Epics

Endure a stint in prison.

The Epic Trash of Giuseppe Andrews

This is Giuseppe Andrews -



The more perceptive among you will recognize him as the party-loving Deputy Winston from Cabin Fever (2002). Giuseppe has been acting since he was a child and starred in some fancy Hollywood fare like Independence Day (1996) and American History X (1998). But that's not what this thread is about...

Giuseppe is also a musician. Here he is singing one of his originals in the 2007 movie Look. Dig it, man -



That is one seriously motherfucking bitchin' song right there, I'm sure you agree. And he's got other classy tunes too. But again, that's not what this thread is about...

You see, Giuseppe Andrews is a filmmaker. More specifically, he's a maker of trash epics. Among his small fanbase, there are those who honestly believe him to be the greatest filmmaker in the world. Werner Herzog is a fan. So am I. If you've ever watched an early John Waters film and found yourself thinking that it was a little too slick, too polished, too coherent and too high-budget, then you might become a fan too.

Giuseppe lives in a trailer park, which is where he makes his films. Rather than work with trained actors, he casts friends, fellow trailer park residents and others from his area. These include his mental mate Miles Dougal, a homeless dude known as Vietnam Ron, and a 70 year old man named Tyree with a foul mouth and a compulsive urge to get his dick out on camera. The films are all shot within 2 or 3 days, with a budget of roughly zero. Often near scriptless, Giuseppe will make up dialogue within minutes of when the camera starts rolling. What results from this totally unprofessional, disaster-in-the-making ethos is a bunch of movies that are weird, crude, trashy, immensely fun and totally fucking original.

So this thread will be an ongoing project of mine: To watch and review all of Giuseppe's feature films and shorts (those that are available anyway). I'll also get to the recent documentary Giuseppe Makes a Movie (2014), a behind-the-scenes look at the unorthodox filming of his latest trashterpiece Garbanzo Gas.

First review up soonish. Get ready for some poop, teddy bear fucking and old man cock. You know you're excited. So am I.

Bill Cosby Week with Alcoholic Ninja

As a personal challenge to myself, I've decided to have Bill Cosby Week. You can probably guess that this challenge is about watching as many cinematic rapes as possible. How nasty or disturbing the movie is has no bearing here. Bill Cosby Week is purely about quantity of rapes. So, pinku, Cat III and roughies are the order of the day.

This is a terrible week for me to undertake such an endeavour, both timewise and emotionally. Which is why I'm doing it now. It seems appropriate. This week will be a throbbing, black, non-consensual hardon thrust into my drugged and unconscious life. It's gonna be difficult to keep going, but I'll just shut my mouth and take it like the whore I am. It's my fault for wearing such a short skirt.

As previously mentioned, this is just a personal challenge. But feel free to watch some rape flicks too, if you're in the mood. Or you could use this thread as a source of recs for the December Extreme challenge. Or you could recommend some rapey faves for me to watch. Or you could dismiss this whole thing as a sickening way to make light of a monstrous criminal and the lives he's destroyed. Do what you want. Unlike Bill Cosby, I'm not here to make anyone do anything against their will. I just wanna watch some cool flicks and write tasteless mini-reviews.

Halfway through my first movie now. It's gonna be a fun week. Kinda. Hopefully I can make this thread worth reading.




#Billcosby #Rape

Funko ReAction Figures

Anyone here a nerd like me and collect these things? There's a lot of cool ones out there and you can find them online or at stores like Barnes & Noble.

Here's my collection thus far:


I still need Gill-man, the Bride of Frankenstein, and the Phantom (from the Opera, duh!) to complete my Universal Monsters collection.


I got all the Terminator ones. They just came out with a new series for Terminator 2 as well.


A few others I have, Jason, Michael, Freddy, and Snake.

Would any of you like to try my homemade wine?

I made it out of my pee.
It is cardamom and pear mead. The flavor has been enriched by local honey produced by bees who pollinate a pasture of crimson clover. Its floral notes of lavendar and lily are tempered by a leathery base with an aroma of walnut. My partner and I aged it for a year and a half and feel ready to share it. We haven't filtered its dregs (rather, we've stirred them daily), nor did we strain its ingredients. We have, however, scraped the layer of mold from atop it.

Again, I ask you, would you like to try my homemade wine?
It is a rich yet timidly colored mead that initially mimics the characteristics of burgundy but with the inevitable sweetness of jam and air. Its fruity intensity has no bearing on the dryness of its afrocentricity. I pooped in it.

Would you care to share a sample?
You would be surprised by how its full body extends so well to its exotic spiciness. The cardamom lends notes of clove, fennel, sugarcane, mascara, sumac and tradition while the pear lightens the whole affair in an almost whimisical aftertaste that hits you before you even put it in your mouth.

There's one thing we can all agree on and it's this: Would you like to try this homemade wine?

The Tower (2008)

This movie is a real treat and damn expensive to import. And the only available DVD's are bootlegs. You can't even find it online. Check out trailer:



Anyway I'm going to upload it to Youtube (if I can). It'll only be for a short while and I'll take it down again, but if anybody wants a link I'll send it (if it uploads and works. I'm new to this).

It's a good movie. Acting sucks but the rest is sweet

Morinator GenisHaze - A Shitty Story

Back in the day, me and @damn_cyborg would write a shit-ton of stupid stories about two impossibly inept police officers Morin and Haze. Recently, we reminisced about these shitty characters and decided to continue their incompetent adventures. Here's a story I wrote today.

Prologue

In the distant future... 2010... the world has become overrun by ignorant, lower class black people. And fat, dirty Mexicans. They exploited the government's welfare system until the country's economy crumbled. People were left homeless and outnumbered as jive-talking hoodlums and ghetto Mexican families ruled the streets. The blacks would wage war with the hispanics who refused to learn the English language, for control of the walmarts. The educated white minority faced extinction, until one man taught them how to fight back, and crush las cucarachas y los personas negros en basura. His name was Reynolds. Ryan Reynolds.

In a last ditch effort to change the future, the blacks and Mexicans would join forces to eliminate the white minority for good, and remove any trace of a comprehensible dialogue, by capturing the time-displacement equipment (that the white people built) and using it against them. They would send back the ultimate assassin to infiltrate the caucasion resistance, and take out Reynolds before he could ever lead the white minority to victory. They would send... The Morinator.



Chapter I

1:52 am, Los Angeles. 2010. In a dark alleyway, the wind picks up. The scattered garbage is cleared away by a gust of wind as sparks of electricity fill throughout the alleyway. Dubbed burps and farts become audible as a strong force tries to break wind into our time. A giant sphere manifests, and in a flash, it is gone. Standing in its place is a garbage can on wheels, with tube vents for arms, a face that's clearly painted on the front, and a blond wig on top. It can barely even function as it fills the air with an excessive amount of exhaust. Ominous music plays as it rotates to the left, then to the right, as it scans the area. Clunkily, it moves to the edge of the nearby cliff overlooking the city, and looks over the glowing nightlife...

In an observation deck, three juvenile punks are drinking beer and bickering amongst each other. They all take notice as something stupid approaches them, with punk #3 wondering, "What's wrong with this picture?"

The garbage can incompetently wheels closer. A hobo casually passes it as it wheels along, lifting its top and throwing in 4 empty cans of beer. The garbage can stops to allow this, though the exhaust bothers the man and he casually leaves, indifferent. The garbage can then wheels up to the punks and stops before them.

"Garbage day tomorrow," punk #3 explains, "not enough trash, right?"

"No mas basura, si?"

Punk #2 peers into the garbage can. "Hey, I think this guy's a couple cans short of a six-pack!"

"Su ropa. Les dan a mi, pronto."

"Fuck you, asshole," punk #2 says as he casually kicks the garbage can over. It lays like a turtle on its back as the three punks casually walk away...



Chapter II

9:58 am. Outside of the police precinct, Officer Sparks Morin pulls up to the station riding a tandem bike with two flat tires by himself. He can barely ride it solo, and almost falls off as it tries to dock it in the bike rack. Morin is wearing sunglasses, a fake handlebar mustache, and an unkempt police uniform.

Inside the station, he passes through the corridors until he finds his office: a dark broom closet with a busted door covered with pictures of 80s hair metal bands and men with prominent mustaches--hardly appropriate for police officers. He enters the closet and is immediately hit by some falling sugar packets, which the closet seems to have an abundance of. Morin moves to his chair and wipes several packets from his chair as he sits, clearing more sugar packets from his desk as he checks his work agenda for the day, which has a single entry: beat at least one game of solitaire. This unnerves him, and he grabs his radio.

"This is one-L 19, I need assistance in a game of solitaire. Over."

The radio responds, "This line is for emergencies only. Please switch to another channel. Over."

Outside the closet, Detective Reynolds passes, and Morin asks him, "Reynolds! Have you seen Haze?" Reynolds blatantly ignores him and continues off. Morin complies to the radio request, switching through channels to hear spanish music on most every other channel, until he hears a familiar voice: "Gimmuh two happuh millz, chee' b'rger wit freedom fry 'n orange drink."

Outside the McKnobs drive-thru, Detective Haze waits without a car, holding up the line as he speaks into his police radio, trying to get a response. He is wearing purple pants, a yellow dress-shirt, a fake mustache, and an obvious bald cap. Cars behind him are honking as he is holding up the line. He toys with his walkie-talkie, trying to find the frequency for this fast food restaurant, while the cashier in the window tries to guide him inside to order. Haze wont listen.

In the station, Morin is annoyed and radios back, "Haze! Stop trying to order drive-thru on your police radio! It doesn't work that way! Haze? Haze?!" Morin gets up and storms out.

Leaving the station, he heads to his tandem bike, but it has since been stripped. "Not again!" he complains, as he kicks the damn bike, and it crumbles even more. Hopeless for the bicycle, Morin heads out after Haze...

Meanwhile, Haze keeps switching radio channels and shouting "chee'burger!", but to no avail. The cars continue honking as the line wraps around the building. The honks and insults have become overwhelming, while Haze continues to grow angrier, going as far as pulling his gun out and aiming it at the car behind him. However, the customer is left utterly confused, as Haze's gun is simply a banana, which Haze believes is threatening. The annoyed customer behind him inches closer and closer as Haze gets more and more tempted to pull the non-existence trigger of his banana. Suddenly, Reynolds can be heard, whistling to Haze. Haze sees Reynolds holding a happy meal. Haze moves towards the happy meal, as Reynolds lures him away from the angry crowd...



Chapter III

10:36 am. A bum wheels his shopping cart past the observatory. The blonde Mexican garbage can is still laying there. The bum sets it up upright and looks into it, taking the empty cans out of it and puts them into his shopping cart, and wanders away...

Haze sits alone, eating his happy meal at a picnic table. Morin casually walks over, annoyed as fuck, saying "We need to get back on the beat. Somewhere, there's a crime happening." Haze blatantly breaks the law as he throws his garbage next to a waste recepticle and follows Morin.

The two reminisce as they pass graffiti on the walls. "These goddamn punks have been destroying our city," Morin explains, "They busted all the security cameras before we could even catch a glimpse of them."

Haze begins to wonder with his feeble mind, "If onluh we knowed war dey were befo' dey commit da crimz... if onluh we'z could'ed has predict rhere dey strike."

"If only we had a time machine..."

Haze thinks way back. "Didn't we has time displace machine back in episode 3?"

"Hey, you're right," Morin recalls. "We used it to hunt for some guy for some reason I can't remember. Wouldn't it be great if we could use that time machine again?"

"If only we hads time machine, we could go back to episode 3 and use da time machine to predicts da punks next move."

"Now you're thinkin' with dynamite, Haze. But how the hell did we ever get that time machine in the first place?"

"I still has all dem ol' scriptz fo' our old episodes on muh com-poo-ter. We'z ought to go back to da office and finds where dey at, and see if we can reverse engineer da time machine."

Morin nods, and the two head back to the station, casually passing the punks they seek...



Chapter IV

In the office, Morin and Haze approach their closet/office and notice their computer has fallen off the desk, and the monitor is broken.

"Goddamnit!" Morin yells.

"What happen to 'puter, Morin?" Haze asks.

"I lost another game of solitaire and took my aggressions out on the computer. Next time, it'll know not to fuck with me, Sparks J. Morin."

"Jea. But we'z ought to fix it, so we'z can find dem ol' scripts and build da time machine."

Morin sets it upright and the screen flickers. Morins hits it a few times, but it doesn't work. "Let me try mine," Haze says, as he pulls out a hammer. He beats the monitor a few times, but it somehow fixes the screen. Morin then sifts through lots of porn, until he comes across all the old Morin and Haze scripts.

"Here it is... episode 3: Not Dirty Harry," Morin reads through. "So many fucking words in this shitty script... ah, here it is. According to this script, we just walked into a building a time machine just •happened• to be there. So we ought to do that..."

"Okay. I'll brin' da hammer, so we can hit da machine 'til it work for us."

"No, you idiot!" Morin explains, "Last time, we caused a paradox because we didn't know how to use the damn thing. You just kept hitting it with a hammer and I pressed what was clearly the •wrong• button. If we want to solve this case, we need to act competently."

Confused, Haze drops the hammer and agrees.

"Now where the hell can we find a time machine?" Morin wonders.

"We'z just ought to take a walk around da place and see if we finds one."

The two step out of the closet, closing the door behind them as they look down both ends of the corridor. Haze immediately turns around and opens the closet again.

"It's not in her," he explains.

Morin and Haze wander off...



Chapter V

Reynolds is driving his squad car as the radio sounds off. "All units, be on the lookout for a hispanic blonde motorized garbage can emitting an excessive amount of exhaust. He is wanted for pollution and littering."

The Mexican garbage can wheels along an overpass, hearing the same radio signal, and stops. It turns to look below, noticing a dorky jogger with a jew-fro/perm on his way to pass under the bridge. "Ay caramba!" the robot voices, as it backs up, and wheels quickly towards the wall of the bridge, crashing into it and going over the edge. The garbage can falls off the overpass as the dorky jogger arrives, crashing directly on top of him, killing him as he lets out a wilhelm scream. However, the robot garbage can has difficulty getting upright again...

Back in the police station, Morin and Haze continue to check every single closet, hoping to find a time machine.

"Fuck this. I don't think we'll ever find a time machine."

"Den we never finds da vandals who ruin da city."

"Well it's not our fault we can't find a time machine," Morin explains, "Someone smarter than us should've built one already."

"Maybuh dey will in future, 'n sends back to we, in deze time."

"Yeah, well we can't just waste this whole episode looking for a time machine that clearly doesn't exist. We'll have to find a way to solve this mystery realistically," Morin proclaims.

Reynolds returns, heading to his office. "Don't forget to keep an eye out for that blonde, motorized garbage can thingy," he says, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of it all.

Haze turns to find a door with the words "Time Masheen" on it, and points it out to Morin, "Maybe we'z use dis time machine to go back to earlier, 'n tell we-selvez not to bother lookin' fo' da time machin'. Dat will'ed save us some time, den we can get back to our important affairs."

"Good idea, Haze."

The evil Mexican garbage can passes through the corridors of the precinct, arriving to Morin and Haze before they enter, though it is different. It is now wearing the dorky jogger's perm hairdo.

Morin takes a curious look at this blatant garbage can, but doesn't quite piece it together. The Mexican garbage can asks, "Donde esta DETECTIVE REYNOLDS?"

"No speak-y spanish. But Detective Reynolds does, so go ask him," Morin responds. He hands the garbage can a packet of information, saying, "Here's his home address, phone number, email address, social security number, passport, and bank account info."

The crappy robot replies with, "Gracias, tonto," and heads off. Several sticks of dynamite fall out from behind the poorly constructed machine as it wheels off, clouding the hallway with its poisonous gas. Morin tries to clear the gas, noticing the sticks of dynamite and picks them up. "Sir, you dropped these," he says, as he returns the dynamite to the garbage can, which replies with "Si!", before continuing off.

"Dat mean yes," Haze states.

"I know that. I'm not stupid," Morin explains, coughing from all the carbon monoxide. The two enter the room with the alleged time machine...


Epilogue

The Mexican garbage can caught up with Reynolds and blew him the fuck up. The explosion debris trapped Morin and Haze in the room, though they were eventually able to tunnel out to safety. Then they got hit by a bus and died.

The End.

#Story

Whiplash (2014)

As trash fans, we all dig trashy flicks. Low budget, offensive and underground. This right here, is not a trashy flick, but fuck me if it wasn't an awesome movie, so I'm going to do a write up anyway. It may not be low budget or underground, but its message could be interpreted as quite offensive, but that depends on how you look at it.

Andrew Niemen is a first year student at a very established musical University in New York. He's into jazz music, and aspires to be one of the great jazz musicians of all time. But to do so, he needs to be recognised. Terrance Fletcher, played by the always amazing J.K Simmons, is his teacher, and will mould him into one of the greats, but through any means necessary.



I think this is something most of us can relate to on some level. Desperately trying to impress someone, and it never being good enough. Some teachers use a form of tough love to push their students, and some thrive on the emotional abuse to simply punish their pupils. I guess the main question this film asks, is where do you draw the line, how far is it really acceptable to go?



I'm not going to go over the obvious points of this film. The acting, the music, the cinematography, everything is pretty much spotless. Who I really want to focus on, is Simmons. I first saw Simmons in his memorable portrayal of Vernon Schillinger from the show Oz. And if you've ever seen the show, you'd know he played one of the most evil characters on it, the skinhead nazi who lead the Aryan brtotherhood.



Somehow though, he managed to play and even scarier character in this. This is where I had such appreciation for this movie. This movie is fucking intense. When a musican stuffs up, or is playing out of tune, or the wrong tempo, you can almost hear a penny drop. Simmons as Fletcher is one scary fucking guy. And watching the dynamic between him and Niemen is brutal.
This movie is a powerful rollercoaster with what could be deemed as a dangerous message, but I have no doubt in my mind that people like Fletcher really exist. Whether they go too far or not, and whether the ends justifies the means is up to the viewer to decide.

I was going to post a trailer, but the trailer doesn't do the movie justice. In fact, had I had seen the trailer first, I probably wouldn't have watched the movie. Just see it.

9/10