Tag Archives: 1997

Welcome Proclaimed EVIL Into Your Home! “Video Psycho” reviewed! (SRS Cinema / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Video Psycho” on Blu-ray and DVD home video!

On his way back home, Jason picks up a Ryan, a hitchhiker looking for a new start in town, goaled to achieve three things:  a place to call his own, to obtain a job that pays minimum wage, and to find a girlfriend.  Empathetic to Ryan’s new beginnings having gone through himself, Jason invites the hopeful drifter to stay at his shared home with girlfriend Julie and little sister Kylie.  One night drinking between Jason and Ryan, Ryan confesses to killing a man and even delivers video proof with his own recorded snuff film the act.  Disregarding the video and Ryan’s confession immediately as a joke, Jason lets the man stay until another snuff video involving someone Jason knows puts Ryan in the driver’s seat that could set up Jason as the suspect.  Weeks go by and Ryan basically has the run of the house with Kylie and Julie being fed up with his intrusion and Jason’s illogical reasoning for continuing to let him stay.  With Kylie in his romantic sight, Ryan is on his path to achieve his goals. 

A SOV-horror that proves you should never pickup strange hitchhikers and also proves that there are really unsuspecting, trusting, and overall dumb people out there willing to open up themselves, their home, and their family members to complete strangers, even after adamantly admitting to their heinous crimes.  That’s the essential takeaway for Del Kary’s directed, shot-on-video thriller “Video Psycho,” co-written by Kary and Pete Jacelone, a long independent horror producer and writer who began his writing career on the 1997 film and went on to write an abundant of horror you’ve likely never heard of, such as the “Psycho Sisters” series, “The Killer Clown Meets the Candy Man,” and the eyebrow raising “Duck!  The Carbine High Massacre.”  Kary’s career is not as lustrously tarnished with two films in the late 90s, including this one and “Snuff Perversions:  Bizarre Cases of Death,” and not another until last year’s “Cheater, Cheater,” a slasher based off the childish rhyme cheater, cheater pumpkin eater.  Kary solely produces the PsYChO Films production, shot in Yakima, Washington. 

“Video Psycho” embodies that home movie aesthetic that was shot with poor equipment but amongst good friends, and probably a few beers too.  The cast is compromised a bunch of one-and-done actors with Kary’s film being their only credit as the story follows more from the perspective of serial killer Ryan, played by James Paulson.  With a soul patch, poofy dark features, and thick eyebrows that slant down in a malevolence manner, Paulson contains that judgy general appearance of a psychopath and distills apathetic patterns that are nonchalant and blunt.  While Paulson thrives as killer, Jason is the daftest, most gullible person to ever live in the cinematic universe.  Now, I’m not saying actor Adam Kraatz is the blame, performance has nothing to do with the way the character is written by Kary and Jacelone and that’s their own doing, but Jason’s inactivity to do anything or warn anyone is more frightening than the antagonist.  Girlfriend Julie (DeAnna Harrison) and baby sister Kylie (Jennifer Jordan) also can’t understand the man of the house’s submissiveness to a complete stranger who has this power over him.  When they both begin to question his authority and rational when weeks past and this random guy from off the road is still hanging around, Jason reverse psychologizes the two people closest to him which makes us wonder who the real villain is in the story.  The only other characters with substance are Kylie’s boyfriend Rick (Jared Treser), who has little impact being a buffer between sociopath Ryan and his tender beloved Kylie, and video store manager Steve (Art Molina), who does a better buffering job deflecting Ryan’s unwanted and stalkerish advances until Ryan has his way with him.  Outside the principal lot, the rest of the cast fills in with Ryan’s videoed victims, most come in a single montage of analog recorded murder, with Jason Alvord, Chris Valencia, Shannon Dimickl Brandy Jordan, Jack Meikle, Heidi Munson, and Charles Summons.

Lo-fi and dry, “Video Psycho” presents an invariability that ultimately kills any intrigue, tension, and fear.  With the cast being what it is, an adequate of inexperience, the narrative needed a lift to cannon itself beyond the routine of motiveless stranglers who kills for the love of killing.  Kary and Jacelone’s attempted twist for high impact is Ryan showcasing his snuff body of work to newfound friend and host Jason and for Jason to think nothing of it and let the maniac stay with him and his closest loved ones.  At this point, audiences will slap their foreheads so hard aspirin couldn’t handle the amount of pain to follow and attention to the rest of the story will begin to wane as disbelief ad improbability start to set in like a bad side effect of an illicit drug that clearly has said side effects.  Acts two and three barely blip on the developmental and dynamic activity meter between the characters conversations of the Ryan confoundment.  Essentially, they all talk about the inaction of others and give the benefit of doubt rather than taking action themselves to alleviate Ryan’s squatting.  Ryan’s the other character enacting real change during his weeks’ stay by videotaping every count like it’s his last and insidiously inflicting himself creepily toward Kylie.  Kary does output a few notable scenes of unsettlingly imagery, such as Kylie’s haunting dream of Ryan calling her name and getting closer to her bed as she sleeps while in strobe light and with the lo-fi videotape quality, the effect is definitely dream surreal, at least that is what “Video Psycho” has going for it.

SRS Cinema’s newly restored and re-mastered Blu-ray edition is on AVC encoded onto a 25GB BD-R with 1080p high-definition resolution.  Not that the pixel count really matters with “Video Psycho” and it’s lo-fi videotape that’s neutralizes textures and color and comes with its share of interlacing and tracking issues.  To worry about compression problems, to which there is none within the uncomplex file and its size used for the codec, would be a waste of mental and visual space with an image that does delineate objects to differentiate, implies true hue, and does the job of lower grade, SOV-horror with authentic commercial SOV-qualities of home S-VHS camcorders.  SRS Cinema never really cared about being the picture of health when it comes to quality, so this isn’t off brand for their content and schtick but does heavily play more into the little-known obscurity of home-grown thrillers within its full frame 1.33:1 aspect ratio.  The English mono track offers parallel quality to the video with a static and lo-fi quality that won’t have the pithy impact of a robust and all-inclusive surround sound or even stereo.  Kary’s produced in minor key minimalism and dread score is one of the element’s that be elevated. Dialogue’s hit-or-miss with clarity that’s often impeded by the said interference and poor mic placement, or just the intrinsic issues of an on-board mic.  There are no subtitles available.  With poor A/V quality, why release this film on Blu-ray?  The answer is simply because of the wide-ranging special features that include interviews with the actors who play Ryan’s on-screen and video victims, such as Art Molina, Jennifer Jordan, and Adam Kraatz.  There’s also a feature paralleling commentary track, behind-the-scenes rehearsal footage, deleted scenes, alternate takes, and outtakes.  Plus, the official and teaser trailer along with additional SRS Cinema previews.  The company continues to commission some pretty rad artwork and that is also true here with Belgium graphic artist STEMO who electric saturations of purple, red, pink and blue make for a eye-catching and intriguing roadside killer artwork, even if a bit literal with a thumb up hitchhiker holding a video camera on the side of a blood soaked road in the foreground.  The artwork fits snuggly in between the film layer of a standard Blu-ray Amaray and the disc is pressed with the same front cover image.  The 75-minute feature comes not rated and the Blu-ray is available region free.

Last Rites: An unremarkable, home brewed, strangler picture with little to say, “Video Psycho” has unimaginative idiocy with characters and a narrative conclusion that can be seen a mile away, leaving the SRS Cinema’s title worth only to watch because of its catfishing artwork.

“Video Psycho” on Blu-ray and DVD home video!

An EVIL Assassin Battle Royale! “Mean Guns” reviewed! (MVD Visual / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

“Mean Guns” on MVD Rewind Collection Blu-ray! Purchase Here!

A Crime syndicate mid-level enforcer named Vincent Moon invites professional hired killers and syndicate affiliates to a new, urban-centric prison constructed by the organization the day before grand opening.  The reason for this elaborate invitation is simple:  all those invited have betrayed the syndicate in one way or another and are brought into the locked down prison to battle royale to the death.  The rules of the competition clarify no one will leave the premises, unless being gunned down by a rooftop sniper is acceptable to them, and three contestants must survive the game to claim the prize, the prize being a three-way split of ten million in cash.  As guns, ammunition, and melee weapons are dumped onto the battle grounds, a scramble ensues, and factions are made with 6-hour clock to kill nearly everyone in sight to live and be rich or to be slaughtered by Vincent Moon.  However, there’s no honor amongst thieves and thugs and the rules bend in a rigged high-stakes game of kill-or-be-killed.

The late director Albert Pyun was an ambitious, fast-paced, and prolific director who dominated the late 1980s through much of the 1990s with eclectic, science-fiction action.  The “Cyborg” and “Nemesis” writer-director severed the line between reality and the alternate that brought science fiction to a more grounded realism, such as we see in the aforementioned films, mostly because Pyun was always short on funds and short on time to deliver a final, finished feature.  With his 1997 actioner “Mean Guns,” Pyun severed into another layer on the existential plane and took hold of different kind of alternative reality, one that is plagued by an all-powerful crime syndicate that has its insidious hands in everything, even in the personal and professional lives and secrets of its own employees and hired contracts.  Andrew Witham wrote the script that was produced by longtime Pyun collaborating producers Tom Karnowski (“The Sword and the Sorcerer,” “Cyborg”) and Gary Schmoeller (“Hong Kong 97,” “Omega Doom”), together the trio founded Filmwerks which became the production company under “Mean Guns.” 

Pre-“Law & Order: SVU,” which would define his career in the film and television industry, rapper Ice-T worked himself in from behind a mic to in front of a camera mostly beginning in the 1990s with “New Jack City,” an urban gangster film that matched his on stage musical presence and starred opposite Wesley Snipes (“Blade”), Chris Rock (“Jigsaw”), and Mario Van Peebles (“Jaws:  The Revenge”).  Ice-T found cult status in more pulpy thrillers with exploitation “Surviving the Game” as a homeless man hunted down by a group of rich sport hunters and playing a post-apocalypse beast in the graphic novel adapted “Tank Girl,” but his gangster persona had stuck with him, leaving him the legendary rapper seemingly encircled in the same kind of urban gangster films. This is the case with “Mean Guns” as he portrays a philosophical, upper-level syndicate criminal Vincent Moon spearheading a game of wetwork for the unscrupulous wetworkers associated with his organization.  Not the most prolifically dialogued or screen timed role, Ice-T does what he can to bring Vincent Moon into the fold of much more colorful characters.  “Highlander’s” Christopher Lambert receives co-top of the bill as a psychotic assassin looking to atone for a careless sin.  Lambert is wonderfully unhinged while calculating as he integrates his “Highlander” sword skills and maniacal grin into his character of Lou, who through flashbacks had accidently killed a child on one of his hits and retrieves his biological daughter for an abusive stepfather to start life anew.  More pragmatic is Lou’s rival Marcus, stoically portrayed by Albert Pyun regular Michael Hasley (“Dollman,” “Nemesis 2”).  Together, Lou and Marcus must team up, along with the coldhearted D. (Kimberly Warren, “Blast”) and syndicate accountant turned informant Cam (Deborah Van Valkenbugh, “The Warriors’), to survive against the fray of likeminded killers.  “Mean Guns” cast fills out with Tina Cote (“Nemesis 2”), Thom Mathews (“Return of the Living Dead”), Yuji Okumoto (“Robot Wars’), Jerry Rector (“Vampire’s Kiss”), James Wellington (“The Evil Inside Me”), and introducing Hunter Doughty.

Like many of Albert Pyun’s caffeinated action films, “Mean Guns” is the epitome of vehemently slick dipped in a 90’s glaze of an alternative, unchecked free-for-all of bad hairdos, trench coats, and guns.  Lots of guns in a pre-computer-generated muzzle flash with real recoil and really bad, but good, one-liners.  What’s more surprising about this Pyun is that, unlike his previously mentioned films, “Mean Guns” is virtually bloodless albeit the shoot’em up melee violently lays waste to nearly 100 bad guys.  Pyun integrated a liberal use of blood squibs in his other guns-blazing and contentious conflicts, but “Mean Guns” takes a step back to a less severe tile like “Unkind Guns” with a comically coated film pulled straight out of a cheesy graphic novel.   For example, a combatant, thinking they just scored the briefcase full of millions, finds their head aflame and their face covered in black powder loony toon style after the opened briefcase explodes offscreen.  These moments provide a reality check to the already outlandish, yet highly entertaining, every man for himself game of death made willingly subjectable by its limited principals and Pyun style action. 

Getting ready to kill for this new Blu-ray of Albert Pyun’s “Mean Guns.”  The MVDVisual release, a part of their MVD Rewind Collection, is presented in a 2.35:1 aspect ratio, AVC encoded onto a 1080p, high-definition BD50.  Pyun and director of photography George Mooradian, who collaborated on many of Pyun’s films, such as “Cyborg” and “Nemesis” as well as standalone projects with “Bats” and “K-911,” utilized a spherical lens with steep drop-offs around the edges of the frame, almost looks like everything around the left and right sides should be falling.  IMDB states anamorphic lens but judging from the complete focus of the background and the severe oval-like nature of the frame, I’m leaning toward a spherical lens. For vast landscapes where length is nearly limitless, a spherical lens would be ideal to unify depth and main focus but since confined to a prison interior, compact hallways are squeezed in beyond a reasonable limit and often side-stance characters are warped in frame.  Details are generally fine with the hi-def pixel count that translates skin tones naturally pleasing with a few moments of corrective coloring aside from the occasional red hot temperature flashbacks that bath everything in color-varied reversal exposure.  The transfer isn’t perfect either with a couple of noticeable damage blips on the 35mm print.  The uncompressed English LPCM 2.0 stereo is a mambo-ladened, bullet-whizzing, melee-skirmishing, and depth-exacting design that’s well balanced and layered.  Dialogue remains free of audible blights and courses prominent throughout.  Optional English and French subtitles are available.  Special features, including an Albert Pyun introduction that’s encoded into the Play Film as well as the bonus content and to which had to be shot well before his death judging by the appearance of his rather healthy person in the video, includes an audio commentary by the director, a new interview with producer Gary Schmoeller, a new interview with executive producer Paul Rosenblum, and a new interview with composter Anthony Riparetti..  The original theatrical trailer is also included. I’m always elated to see the MVD’s throwback package design and the 59th Rewind Collection release continues the theme with a cardboard slipcover in mock disrepair with a corner edged torn and exposing the corner of a VHS tape cassette. Not to forget to mention the designed rental stickers to heighten the effect. Underneath the slipcase is a clear Blu-ray Amaray case with reversible cover art, each side promoted with a scaled down poster art bordered and backgrounded with a similar coloring shade. Inside, the disc is smartly pressed with a VHS-façade while the insert side has a mini-folded poster of the primary cover art. The region free release comes rated R and has a runtime of 104 minutes, which when watching the feature one can see perhaps some cuts were made for timing. Perhaps, Pyun had a longer version and had to edit and cut down for time.

Last Rites: A romping mayhem, “Mean Guns” is ballistically ceaseless and entertaining, if not also the touchstone of 90’s cheesy action, and is presented well here with in the latest, and greatest, MVD Visual Rewind Collection Blu-ray.

“Mean Guns” on MVD Rewind Collection Blu-ray! Purchase Here!

No Film is Complete Without a Flying EVIL Baby! “The Necro Files” reviewed! (Visual Vengeance / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

A

I Want To Believe…That You Will Check Out “The Necro Files” on Blu-ray!

An unhinged serial rapist terrorizes the young women of Seattle, ripping into shreds their internal innards and even dabbles in tasting their flesh.  Two detectives hellbent on stopping his reign of terror intercept the killer in the middle of an attack.  Though too late to save the girl, the detectives shoot six slugs into the rapist, stopping his continuous, heinous sexual assaults and grisly murders…at least for nine months later, when a satanic cult resurrects the zombie cannibal rapists from the grave after sacrificing the rapist’s bastard baby from his only surviving victim.  The killing spree begins again and this time being undead provides superhuman strength and a larger penis.  The two detectives, now embroiled in their own corruption, must embark on another manhunt while two of the satanic cult members, seeking to undue the horrors they’ve unleashed, willingly summon a demon into the dead baby to counteract the zombie cannibal unbeknownst to them the demon baby will kill anyone it’s in airborne trajectory.

Just from the above synopsis, this film sounds nuts, darkly funny, and depraved all wrapped into one undisclosed file of sex, gore, and floating baby dolls.  And, you know what?  It’s all true.  The creator behind all this madness is Matt Jaissle who helms the shot-on-video “The Necro Files” as an underground horror spoof of a popular science fiction you made have heard of – “The X-Files.”  The Truth is out there.  Well, the truth is actually not in the sky, it’s under the dirt, it’s inside some scantily cladded woman being molested by a rotting corpse, and it’s in a doped-up cop looking to wipe all the scumbags off the face of the Earth.  The 1997 released is co-written between long time Jaissle collaborators Todd Tjersland (“Faces of Gore” series) and Sammy Shapiro, based off of Tjersland sleazy horror comic series “Psycho Zombie Love Butcher,” and is the third film from Jaissle that solidifies the filmmaker as a certifiable depravity and gore-meister that has themes of rape, necrophilia, heartless exploitation, and disembowelment clothed as clearly a comedy.  Filmed around the surrounding Seattle, Washington area, “The Necro Files” is produced by Jaissel with Tjersland serving as executive producer Washington state-based Threat Theatre International production banner.

The acting pool that “The Necro Files” plucked their talent from must have been severely limited with a cast more concerned about their robotic performances rather than the unsavory story content.  Fine by me!  I don’t expect award-winning caliber thespianism on campy SOV D-movies where the main focus is guts, girls, and the grotesque.  The two detectives, Martin Manners and Orville Sloane, and the killer, Logan, are the principals caught in the middle of everything that is eloquently evil of “The Necro Files.”   Isaac Cooper plays Logan the Rapist aka Zombie Logan the Rapist and the wild-eyed, chimpanzee-running Cooper doesn’t have a lot of dialogue with his unpleasant roles with many of talking parts going toward a third character of a drug pusher before having his head blown off by a traumatized and unstable Det. Manners.  By the way, Steve Sheppard, who plays Det. Manners, has the best monologue about wiping out scumbags while sitting in the police car, looking maniacal, and just admiring his handgun next to a more rational, more off-cue Gary Browning as his partner, Det. Sloane.  “The Necro Files” cast isn’t doesn’t end there as Snell’s film has a surprisingly sizeable, small role contingent, mostly of playing Satanists, drug dealers and sexual miscreant males, and women in compromising positions.  The actresses playing the latter roles are mostly under pseudonyms, alternate aliases that provide more to the film’s campy nature.  Names like Anne R. Key (Anarchy) and Jenn O’Cide (Genocide) are a couple.  Present day, Jenn O’Cide is actually a sideshow performer, belly dancer, and an overall alternative, fearless woman of the strange and usual fine (dark) arts while keeping her stage name.  Another is Dru Berrymore and no, not the “Firestarter” and “Scream” Drew Berrymore we all know of horror fandom.  This Dru Berrymore comes from Germany and is a pornographic actress who’s had bit pars in Katheryn Bigelow’s “Strange Days,” David Lynch’s “Lost Highway,” and even in “Die Hard 2”.  Each of these ladies, including a fourth in Theresa Bestul, are supposedly claimed from the local strip club and don’t mind being the plaything for undead’s wicked whims in their simply objectifiable credited rolls as Shower Girl, Doll Lover, Camping Girl, and S&M Amazon.  The cast rounds out with Todd Tjersland, Jeff Nelson, and Christian Curmudgeon and Jason McGee has hapless Satanists. 

“The Necro Files” bares very little resemblance to the show it spoofs but bares it all with an opening shower scene containing full frontal nudity.  From the get-go, “The Necro Files” plays into schlocky, campy attire with an unpretentious, unapologetic swagger.  The story doesn’t really make much sense and is terribly choppy from a continuation standpoint.  We’re fed fleeting moments of connective information that hardly tether scene-to-scene let alone the nine-month gap where Logan’s baby must be sacrifice by a Satanist cult to randomly resurrect one of the vilest murderers for unknown reasons and then immediately regret it as part of an oopsie, what did I do moment.  Yet, at the same time, these random bits of tongue-and-cheek leave the door open for unknown possibilities and seeing a clear path on how “The Necro Files” case will close is about as predictable as selecting all the Mega Millions lottery numbers right. Matt Jaissle’s gonzo-gore-a-thon is nonetheless a winning jackpot of underground, sadistic-splaying horror with an extensive as it is impressive DIY blood-and-guts effects and makeup by Jaissle and Tjersland. You can’t name your film “The Necro Files” and not have a deluge of viscera be a collective hematoma of popped blood vessels in every other scene in what’s an all ghoul and girls brazen bloodbath of demonism and dark humor.

“The Necro Files” is the second catalogued title for Wild Eye Releasing’s new kid-sister sublabel of extreme, SOV cult and horror films called Visual Vengeance. The Blu-ray release comes with a precaution of video quality, stating that the original elements were pulled from consumer grade equipment and SD video tape masters. The final product is better-than-passable and better-than-expected based off the source material as the 1.33:1 presented feature has an abundance of interlacing, aliasing, and macroblocking throughout. The video format plays into much of the problems with soft color palette and details in which not one single scene looks particular sharp enough to call Blu-ray’s best. For underground SOV horror, the quality is what was expected, if not better, and will continue to expect with future Visual Vengeance releases. Audio options give viewers two formats to select from: An English language Dolby Digital 2.0 and an English DTS-HD MA 2.0. The DTS track is the winner between the two audio arrangements with a slightly hefty decibel soundtrack and a better job isolating the already isolated lo-fi ambient and Foley. Dialogue, to the naked ear, sounds relatively the same with the lossy strength and level inconsistencies (again with 1997 video equipment issues), but overall free from obstructions. English subtitles are option. Special features include two audio commentary tracks with director Matt Jaissle on one and with Matt Desiderio of Horror Boobs and Billy Burgess of the Druid Underground Film Festival on the other, a brand-new graveyard self-chat with Matt Jasissle providing background color on making movies in general and a little history of himself, Dong of the Dead: The Making of the Necro Files with a talking head interview of Matt Jaissle, with spliced in movie clips, speaking on the complete genesis and completion of his film, the original and Visual Vengeance trailer, the super 8 short “The Corpse,” and a bonus movie, the sequel “The Necro Files 3000!” Physical release bonus material includes a reversible Blu-ray cover, a 2-sided artful insert with Blu-ray produced acknowledgements, a mini poster, a Wild Eye VHS sticker set, a cardboard slipcover, and the official “The Necro Files” condom not intended for actual use. Probably just a little something to ward off unplanned evil floating babies! The film comes unrated, region free, and the feature clocks in at 72 minutes with another 65 minutes on the sequel. “The Necro Files” is 137 minutes of sleazy-zombie humpfest that you won’t (you can’t!) forget.

I Want To Believe…That You Will Check Out “The Necro Files” on Blu-ray!

Chainsaws, Tanks, Booger Flicking! So Much Bloody EVIL! “Premutos: The Fallen Angel” reviewed! (Unearthed Films / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on



Grab “Premutos:  The Fallen Angel” on 2-Disc Blu-ray at Amazon.com!

Before the fall of the angel Lucifer, Premutos was the very first angel to fall from heaven.  More wicked and desirous for power, Premutos resurrects legions of the undead to conquer mankind on Earth and throughout the centuries, the ruthless former angel of Hell casts his conduit son to build his army of the dead, but has failed again and again to squash the spirit of man into servitude submission, discarding Premutos back to the depths of Hell to try again at another time.  This time being present day Germany when a young man discovers a book that chooses him to be the emissary of death, paving the way for the rebirth of Premutos, but an arms and ammunition’s enthusiast and his party guests must fight to survive and kill every last zombie and underworld creature thrown at them.

After having reviewed his 2010 existential horror “No Reason,” a need to dive into and experience more the splattering Armageddon of Olaf Ittenbach’s gore shows has been gnawing on my fairly acutely demented subconscious and this past week, I was fortunate enough to receive a newly released extended director’s cut of the director’s late nineties, pseudo creed, blood berserker “Premutos:  The Fallen Angel” and get my corneas dirtied by its unholy high body count.  Doom-estically translated from “Premutos – Der gefallene Engel” and more commonly known in the States as “Premutos:  Lord of the Living Dead,” relies very little on the unrefined visual special effects that were going through a massive evolution with computer advancements pre the turn of the millennium.  “Premutos” is a big practical effects enchilada with exploding bodies, gallons upon gallons of blood, and there’s even a real tank painting the walls and everything surrounding the walls red with a detonation of blood and gut splatter!  Kaboom!  Ittenbach mind-to-movie visualization goes from zero to 1,000 in a blink of a plucked-out eye and nothing stops the filmmaker from his warped creativity and comedy that can take the more puritanical few back a few steps and cause a ruckus of disgust.  “Premutos” is produced by Ittenbach, stars Anke Fabré and André Stryi, and cinematographer Michael Müller with IMAS Filmproduktion serving as principal the production company.

“Premutos” begins with an epic epilogue, historizing the horrific mythos alongside equally horrifying visual components of Premuto’s death and destruction attempts to conquer man.  When the history lesson ends a transition begins with Olaf Ittenbach himself as a bumbling mama’s boy Matthias coming across the ancient resurrection incantations of Premutos his gun nut father Walter (Christopher Stacey) unearths in his backyard.  Ittenbach plays a wonderful pitiful thumb sucker in contrast to Stacey, who doesn’t look that much older to Ittenbach, as a rugged, hardnose, hard=working ammosexual.  Before we can bask in what could have been a good diatribe, Matthias goes through a painfully metamorphosis of wrapping barbed wire and impaling steel rods to become Premuto’s death commencing son.  Corpses exhume themselves and attack the living to form an army of the fleshing eating undead and descend upon Walter’s birthday party and his wide-ranging personalities in attendance with the snobbish and loud Tanja (Ella Wellmann), Walter’s oblivious wife Rosina (Heike Münstermann), the drunkard Christian (Fidelis Atuma), Hugo’s ex-love Edith (Anke Fabré), and Edith’s ex-love Hugo (André Stryi) who has gone into a meek shell as he marries Tanya to fill the gap in his heart Edith had left.  The whole dynamic is an ostentatious display of vulgarity, a hyper overextension of behaviors that clash in one room before clashing with another over and beyond presences, beyond being the key word in being those beyond our plane of existence.  A blood gushing fight for survival ensues as the partygoers become trapped and only Walter’s arsenal of weapons can blow away the undead into slimy bits of smithereens. 

The closest movie Ittenbach’s “Premutos” reminds me of, with all the zany and quirky hijinks, insanely high body count, a geyser explosion of pouring down blood, and all the unbelievably bilious hoopla yet, all that nonsensical napalm draws you in like a moth to the sweet-smelling flame, is Peter Jackson’s “Dead Alive” aka “Braindead.” “Premutos” has that exact same tactless tone and a soaking bloodbath quality with a major stark difference in the comedy style as Ittenbach leans more to a cruder-crass approach with setups involving boogers, penis injuries, and BDSM gags. Somewhere in there I want to say that’s typical German flare, to shock and disgust audiences with eye-adverting and head-turning taboos. The rest of Ittenbach’s is an up-and-down rollercoaster of highs and lows that begins with an expositional illustration, highly detailed and greatly edited, to showcase Premutos’ barbaric backstory up until the title card “Premutos” to where we’re dumped into half-assed cosplay battles still rendering excellent practical effect kills. Ittenbach is supposed to play a man, or rather a man-child, who is the reincarnated wicked herald who begins the end of days for his dark master, Pemutos., but the way Ittenbach structures the aforesaid concept falls upon more experimental means than literal ones and Matthias randomly succumbs to flashbacks of a former life in what looks like medieval times or maybe even early 20th century Europe – hard to tell – where he’s persecuted without reasonable justification until he turns into a large snaggle tooth and demonic monster in his visions. The latter half is where all the action is at with a horde of zombies laying sieged to a ragtag bunch of Germans drinking beer and ridiculing each other. Somewhere in there is also the rekindle of a former love life between Hugo and Edith who have to first regain their lost backbone in a rampage of mowing down the dead by any means possible before the two love-struck lovers rekindle a long-thought-lost relationship. That struggle is Ittenbach’s, about as elegant as he knows how to be, show of an obstacle between the power of love, to put the world facing the destruction of slavery in their path to deliver a blood, sweat, and tears of flesh robust connection of attraction between them that can’t be stopped.

ItsBlogginEvil says check it out, the extended director’s cut of “Premutos: The Fallen Angel” on a 2-disc Blu-ray released by Unearthed Films and distributed from MVD Visual. Coming in at number 6 on the Unearthed Classics banner, “Premutos” is neatly packed and presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio on a region A BD50. Full high definition and 1080p specs apply to the now 24-year-old feature shot on an Arriflex with 16mm stock and the results are immaculate from a pristine transfer. Palpable, yet palatable, amount of grain over top a sustainable image that sees almost zero artefact issues and the tactile textures are greatly fine in the details. Hues don’t exactly pop but display more naturally up until Ittenbach’s gothic and surreal side envelopes him into the swirling of smoke and backlighting to create otherworldly glows and Cenobite-like torments. The release comes with two audio options: a German DTS-HD 5.1 surround sound and a German 2.0 PCM. The 5.1 has excellent fidelity and outputs a work into all channels as the background chattering, especially in the bar scene, gives off the sensation that people are talking behind you. That signal flows every explosion and weapon discharge with strength and prevalence throughout. Dialogue is also strong and prevalent despite much of the gibberish that comes out of the characters’ mouths. English subtitles are available and sync well with accuracy intact but can be fleeting at times and hard to keep up with. The second disc is a compact disc of A.G. Striedl soundtrack which I found to be the most disappointing and lossy aspect in listening to lo-fi grunge and hard rock that provides no boost to chaos on screen. Other special features included on the Blu-ray alone are the original cut of the film with an English dub and original German language, the extended making of “Premutos,” the early years of Olaf Ittenbach, a photo gallery, and trailers all stowed inside a new cardboard slipcover. “Premutos” may be soaking in its meaningless, hellish narrative but it’s an unforgettable slaughter-ride through body, blood, and bone, a genuine practical effects wet dream made into gruesome reality and keeps surprising you at every frame.

Grab “Premutos:  The Fallen Angel” on 2-Disc Blu-ray at Amazon.com!

Tune In to EVIL’s Frequency. “99.9” reviewed! (Cult Epics / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Lara, a paranormal radio show host, learns her close friend and former lover has been tragically killed in an accident at small village of Jimena.  Determined to find out what happened after a mysteriously mailed tape unveils disturbing images of her friend, Lara travels to Jimena to investigate the accident she believes was intentional.  Entangled amongst the village’s strange residents, suspicions are high on just about everyone who had contact with the deceased, but Lara is certain about one thing, at the center of her investigation is an abandoned house with a ghastly urban legend, afflicted by the entombment of murdered women and children souls and, one-by-one, the faces of the torture souls are manifestly etched out from within the walls onto the surface.  As Lara inches closer to the truth of her friend’s research of the phenomenon, the shocking truth will reveal a dark power trying to keep the house’s secrets contained.

Estranged lover.  Tortured souls.  Witchcraft.  Secret experiments.  Murder mystery.  Agustí Villaronga’s “99.9” depicts a loaded, shrouded ethereal thriller with a thin translucent layer of homosexuality draped over so delicately you almost don’t realize the Spanish filmmaker’s subtle exhibition of lifestyle exile.  The 1997 film, also known as “99.9:  The Frequency of Terror,” a subtitle moved from the main title to tagline status, is shot primarily in Madrid as well as certain exterior shots in La Vereda, Guadalajara to provide the intimate essence of a small village’s ever-watching glower.  Villaronga, along with cowriters Lourdes Iglesias and Jesús Regueira, stitch an argyle style narrative sweater of consistent checkered behavior inside an ostentatious presentation of simmering hostility toward foreigners and homosexuals, stirring an isolating heroine into a mixture of local animus and lingering occultism.   “The Black Moon” and “Ninth Gate” executive producer Antonio Cardenal solely funds “99.9” and with Impala and Origen Producciones Cinematograficas serving as co-productions. 

Bearing most of the story’s weight is lead actress María Barranco (“Witching and Bitching”) in an unfamiliar to her thriller role polar opposite of her profound previous work as a comedienne in the vocational genre.  Yet, Barranco grabs the role with undue hesitation or eager to professional please Villaronga with her character entering a spurning atmosphere seething with mistrust and ill-intent.  Playing a single mother enduring the unknown status of her estranged lover, also the father of her fatherless child, it isn’t until a package containing a VHS tape of mostly recorded static and a naked man, her estranged lover Victor (Gustavo Salmerón, “V/H/S Viral”), briefly seen fleeing for his life instills a strong uncompromising need to find the truth.  Barranco captures being rocked and shaken by Victor’s footage so much so that her tension and fear contagiously transmit to the viewer and that hardly lets up in a deluge of suspicious and dread curiousness compelling her to investigate the gruff and oddly civil villagers.  One of those village inhabitants, Juan Márquez, reeks of nervous energy that’s poured into his hunky local mechanic Mauri who becomes the mystery’s weakest link amongst the unbreakable locals, especially under the rigid impatience of Mauri’s girlfriend Julia (Ruth Gabriel), house owner Lázaro (Ángel de Andrés López, “Sexy Killer: You’ll Die for Her “), and the creepy committed bruha mother Dolores (Terele Pávez, “The Day of the Beast,” “Witching and Bitching”).  Pávez stamps her presence into “99.9’s” grim resolve that links Dolores to the souls trapped in the house with fanatical obsession.  The cast rounds out with Simón Andreu (“Flesh+Blood”), Pedro Mari Sánchez (“Creation of the Damned”), Maite Brik, and Paula Soldevila (“Immortal Sins”).

If I had to compare another film to “99.9’s” persistent bleak atmospherics and a singular principle quietly poking around to solve a cryptic scene-turner, a more widely known and recognizable title with a familiar cast, I would put up Villaronga’s film against Robert Zemeckis’s circa 2000 Harrison Ford and Michelle Pfeiffer thriller “What Lies Below.”  Both works are saturated with melancholy stuffing and are beautifully shot in their own stylistic right, but Villaronga adds an undercurrent of homosexual persecution as well as a xenophobic aspect that seeks to discourage, dismay, and disconcert nosy foreigners poking around in local business with a gray area of a big city versus little community vibe and scientific fact versus yokel superstition.  Yet, the script renders omission at more pivotal character junctures that go in-depth about backstory, such as the case with the forgotten Victor who, despite being a major plotpoint in the opening scene of the movie, is more a name thrown around as device to stir commotion amongst the locals.  Victor’s experiments in capturing the images and sounds of tortured souls aimlessly floating inside an ethereal plane in the electronic noise of television broadcast during his very much alive subjects’ REM sleep practically dissipates faster than a bottom burp with the window open and the breeze blowing. As loose as the script may be, Villaronga makes up for it with a tone of stern pall, a delicate theme of bigotry mitigated by the tortured souls and mischievous plot ingredients, and the timorous determination exuding from Maria Barranco’s portrayal.

“99.9” is Lara’s radio station frequency; a frequency in the story that nurtures and embraces the abnormal paranormal from callers night in, night out. Instead of sitting comfortably behind a mic and headphones, cozy in her sound proof studio, her frequency is a barrier that is flipped on it’s head as she becomes involved in like the stories of her callers. Speaking of flipping, in more of a “99.9” is Lara’s radio station frequency; a frequency in the story that nurtures and embraces the abnormal paranormal from callers night in, night out. Instead of sitting comfortably behind a mic and headphones, cozy in her sound proof studio, her frequency is a barrier that is flipped on it’s head as she becomes involved in like the stories of her callers. Speaking of flipping, in more of a layman, satanic sense, “99.9” inverted is also the sign of the beast. Either way, two solid possible metaphors for “99.9” give meaning to the tuning title that’s now available on a dual-layer Blu-ray and DVD combo from Cult Epics who present the film in the original European preferred widescreen 1.66:1 aspect ratio from a 2K scan of the original 35mm negative. Villaronga’s chromatic vision finds unadulterated success in the crisp, clean picture of the Cult Epics release with almost no damage from the original transfer. There’s a slight, and extremely brief, scratch noticeable in the first half of the film, but the amount of grain is perfection and no evidence of manipulation of enhancing. Details are insanely delicate on every tactile texture, even the skin. Aforesaid, Villaronga expresses in color, using a cool blue tints, which is actually toned down some with the transfer, and implementing different lighting techniques to reinforce Javier Aguirresarobe’s breathtaking scenic wide wide shot cinematography. The Spanish language DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 on the Blu-ray packs a punch with balanced channels funneling not only clean, unobstructed dialogue, but also “Pan’s Labyrinth” composer, Javier Navarrete,’s brooding baritone, chordophone score. There are two other audio options for the DVD: a LPCM 2.0 Stereo and a Dolby Digital 2.0 Stereo. Optional English subtitles are available and do match up well with no faults. Special features include a new-ish interview with director Agusti Villaronga conducted by Cult Epic’s Nico B, the making of 99.9 that has archival interviews with the director, María Barranco, and other cast and crew, an isolated Javier Navarrete score, and Agusti Villaronga trailers. Both formats are region free and not rated with a runtime of 111 minutes. Back in the 90’s when Spanish supernatural thrillers peaked, “99.9” was right there with a captivating ghostly gossamer from Spain.

Own 99.9 on Blu-ray DVD Combine from Amazon.Com!