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Reviews
The Taint (2011)
The Taint is a fusion of David Lynch's art house sensibility with Troma's campy, cartoon violence and storytelling
In true Troma style, Drew Bolduc and Dan Nelson's The Taint introduces us to a post-apocalyptic world full of "incredibly strange (misogynists) who stopped living and became mixed-up zombies" and, to be sure, plenty of penis explosions, gender conflicts, and ludicrous violence abound. However, most shocking perhaps, is that the Troma brand is nowhere to be found. That's right, Bolduc has gone completely underground with this little gem of germ warfare and it's been causing quite the ripple effect on horror websites all across the 'net.
If that tidbit wasn't enough to sway your interest, then perhaps the knowledge that Bolduc accomplished this feat "outside of the studio system (and) with very little money" thanks in part to his local art community and students from VCU can convince you this is one indie head trip worth visiting. Oh, and did I mention that Bolduc plays the starring role of Phil O'Ginny who is equal parts McLovin from Superbad and Johnny Rotten from Sex Pistols? Well he does AND it features a soundtrack that could have come from an 80s New Wave music video.
The plot, while simple enough- the world's water supply has been tainted, causing men to revert to cavemen-style bouts of rage-fueled ejaculations, it doesn't leave much room to catch up as it kicks right off with O'Ginny on the run from some slack-jawed hillbilly with a scythe who proceeds to toss around a severed penis before dropping a nasty deuce in his long johns. This leads to a rather creative use of stock video footage during the opening credits to explain how the world caught "the taint." Again, I cannot emphasis enough here just how much the music added to the film with a catchy, synthesized beat that perfectly captures the mood of the film like very few other independent films have.
O'Ginny is actually an interesting and multi-faceted character, between the constant switching of sunglasses and his propensity for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, though he certainly doesn't carry the entire film alone. He's aided primarily by Misandra,played by Colleen Walsh, who is on a quest of vengeance to "kill all men" after she was forced to cave in her husband's skull before removing and fondling his brain.
In fact, there's an entire gamut of bodily functions on display during the film courtesy of Chris Bolduc, Billy Davis, and Dan Nelson on special effects. From spewing penis explosions to gloriously metaphor-laden head smashing, The Taint pulls absolutely no punches and is relentlessly non-apologetic for the carnage that unfolds (though the bents of dark humor throughout offer some reprieve form the discomfort). There's also the flaying of skin, splitting of heads, eye-gouging, and ample references to A Clockwork Orange.
Certainly a film that requires multiple viewings to fully understand, The Taint is a fusion of David Lynch's art house sensibility with Troma's campy, cartoon violence and storytelling and although you're welcome to watch it alone it's definitely more fun with a group of friends and lots of beer.
Nude Nuns with Big Guns (2010)
As much as I love my nuns nude and packing heat, Joseph Guzman's Nude Nuns with Guns is one water pistol away from an oversexed skin flick.
Full of enough eye candy to make any adolescent boy's (or girl's) sex drive go full throttle, the film finds a drug cartel run by a sinister church who see fit to reducing their ordained sisterhood to nothing more than a nudist colony of cheap labor chemists. As the story opens we are introduced to some of the main players in a dope exchange gone horribly wrong. The lone (innocent) survivor is our heroine, Sister Sarah (Asun Ortega), who is subsequently thrown into forced prostitution by the bikers and drugged out of her mind as she "services" the customers.
As fate would have it, however, a kind-hearted doctor (I use that term loosely) named Mr. Foo (Maxie J. Santillan Jr.) releases Sarah from her bondage and flushes out all the drugs from her system. Upon awakening, Sister Sarah reveals that she has received the "word of God" which has entrusted her with dishing out some divine justice on those who did her wrong. Foo then proceeds to arm are with a pair of silver pistols to help her on her mission only to have Sarah put a bullet through his noggin (not cool, man). Thus begins our heroine's journey of hate-fueled revenge served cold and hard with the most translucent metaphor for phallic aggression a lesbian nun can holster.
Though short lived, Mr. Foo is a pretty cool character- equal parts Yoda and Tommy Chong, Foo exudes a hipster charm that helps balance the darker elements of the story. Unfortunately, what follows after his demise is bleak mess of boobs and talking (plus more boobs), with very little scenes of heavenly justice doled out and nowhere did I ever really see any "big guns" (with great exception to scary ass Xango Henry as Kickstand, a Dulé Hill (Psych) look-a-like). When the biggest threat of a film is a black man's genitals as he violates elderly nuns, there's not much else that needs to be said.
In the end, as much as I wanted to like a film with a name as cool as Nude Nuns with Guns it simply didn't push any one boundary far enough. In fact, I couldn't help but think that this was really lost footage from Machete, given the overall borderland motif and bad-ass, Mexican bikers. It even goes so far as to riff on Rodriguez's Planet Terror theme from the Rodriguez/Tarantino Grindhouse double feature. Yes, there are nuns and they're (generally) nude. Yes, there's softcore rape and bullets to the head. However, a lack of any real action will likely see you walking away limp from this peep show long before the credits ever role.
House of the Wolf Man (2009)
It's like Ed Wood rose from the grave...
Just to give you guys an idea of how long I've been waiting to see this film, I first wrote about it last Halloween while it was still making its rounds at independent screenings and festival circuits. Fast forward to present day and I now hold in my hand the unholy grail of recent horror cinema... or is it?
The plot, like oh so many of those classic fright films, revolves around a slightly mad scientist who has invited a group of young people to his castle by offering them each a chance to inherit his vast estate and resources. Each member arrives single file as Bela Reinhardt (played by a stone-faced Ron Chaney) proceeds to (annoyingly) deliver psychological profiles on each ad nausea. There's some spooky, Scooby-Doo type shenanigans that unfold and then Bela delivers his bombshell... he's actually *GASP* a werewolf! I won't spoil the second half of the "twist," suffice to say by that point the surprise has pretty much been spoiled anyway.
Having not heard much about House of the Wolfman online, I've let most of my excitement rest on the merit of the still photos and trailer that have been floating around the internet for the past year. Watching it I really wanted to experience a film that would transport me back into the birth of Universal Horror (1930s). Instead, the film seems to strike an uneasy balance between being an honest homage and an all-out satire.
It would be unfair to say that the film as a whole is "bad," however I don't share the same mentality regarding the acting which is really what pulls the film down to Ed Wood status. Best described as uninspired, each actor and actress delivers their dialog with such a sense of austere disinterest it's as if they're being held against their will. Lines that should be creepy are instead wooden and awkward while moments of brevity (mostly thanks to Jeremie Loncka's "Sully") seem too forced. Perhaps the most jarring and uncomfortable character was Jim Thalman's character, Archibald Whitlock, whose racist overtones are arguably more terrifying than the monster's themselves.
Actress Cheryl Rodes sizzle up the screen with some vintage eye candy about halfway through, but the real bits of excellence come from the small nuances that the film offer up including a creepy, disfigured grandmother and the special effects for the Wolfman. There's also a nice throwback to Dracula courtesy of the late Michael R. Thomas, but it happens so late in the film and without any real impact to the plot that it loses any of its campy intention.
Having not seen Eben McGarr's (writer, director, producer) previous film, Sick Girl, it's hard to make a comparison but with this being only his sophomore effort I'd have to say that it shows potential. At the very least I would have to say that McGarr should be commended for the scope of his intentions as I'm sure filming a period piece is no easy feat on an independent budget. With a better cast, a little editing and a bigger budget House of the Wolfman could have been everything I had waited for and more.