Dolly Deadlies Exact an EVIL Revenge! “Doll Graveyard” reviewed! (Full Moon Features / Blu-ray)

“Doll Graveyard” Available for Purchase Here!

In 1911, little Sophia is accidently killed by her verbally abusive stepfather.  He buries her lifeless body in the backyard dirt along with her favorite toy dolls that were the subject of his current tirade.  Nearly a century later and in the same house, Deedee, a teenage high school girl, throws a small party with friends while her father is out for the night.  Her action figure-enthusiastic little brother Guy discovers one of buried dolls in the backyard.  When a couple of older high school boys bully Guy, the spirit of Sophia emerges and pendulates possession of Guy’s mind and body, resulting in the turning of inanimate dolls into killers come alive to protect a hurt Sophia.  Drugs, alcohol, and teen sex quickly come to an end by a seize of small, dangerously armed toys hellbent on spilling blood just to protect a hurt little girl.  Those left still standing must find a way to reverse Sophia’s revenge.

Charles Band’s obsession with toys, dolls, dwarfs, goblins, or a sundry of the mix has yet to slow down his 50-year-career in making independent movies.  The now 72-year-old Band can sit on top of his Full Moon empire and enjoy his repertoire of ravenous rascal horror, including “Doll Graveyard,” the 2005 standalone doll slasher that’s not too dissimilar from the likes of Band’s foremost and unremitting doll franchise, “Puppet Master.”  Band directs the film based off his story and a screenplay treatment by the late director Domonic Muir, credited under the pen name of August White, in what would be one of his first few films with Full Moon in the first decade.  Muir also wrote “Critters,” “Evil Bong,” and venture into the “Puppet Master” series before his untimely death with pneumonia.  Band would produce the feature alongside Jeremy Gordon and Jethro Rothe-Kushel, filmed in Hollywood, California.

A small cast is all that’s required when the dolls resurrect and begin their assault on the youth with their individual ability.  At the story’s core is Guy, an action-figure enthusiast played by Jared Kusnitz (“Dance of the Dead,” “Otis”), and his older sister Deedee, an angsty, boy-hungry, rule-breaker played by Gabrielle Lynn.  Guy and Deedee play the trope fatigued dynamic of a feuding brother and sister complete with blackmail attempts and lots of name calling, opening the door of opportunity to connect in a time of great adversity – in this case, a living doll assault.  Then, of course, no slasher can go without the kill fodder and “Doll Graveyard” has a group of partying teens who come over after Guy and Deedee’s single parenting father, played by Ken Lyle (“Foreseen”), goes off on a date.  Their sneaky, adolescent transgressional gathering of beer drinking, pot smoking, and foreplay into possible copulation is driven by Deedee’s promiscuous best friend Olive (Kristyn Green, “Evil Bong”), a tagalong, morally incorruptible Terri (Anna Alicia Brock), and party-crashing jocks with the insatiable horny Rich (Brian Lloyd, “Candy Stripers”) and Deedee’s lover boy Tom (Scott Seymour, “Garden Party”).  Muir’s story does attempt to branch out from the conventionally themed pathway of authorized partygoers meet their doomed fate with sidebar weaving of past, present, and future relation connections.  Olivia and Rich once had a casual romp that has faded and Rich seeks more difficult challenges with the more prudent Terri while Terri has puppy dog interests into the younger Guy as they share some similar interests.  Meanwhile, Deedee and Tom take their relationship to the next level with precuring steps toward the bedroom that signals the beginning of he end, as the old recurrent theme goes.  The “Punk’s Dead: SLC Punk 2” and “The Amazing Spider-Man” actress Hannah Marks, who makes her film debut in the Charles Band’s film, rounds out the cast as young and unfortunate Sophia.

Eventually, one must ask themselves how many times can someone reinvent the wheel and still think it’s new, innovative, and fresh?  With Charles Band’s proclivity for small malevolence, especially in dolls or puppets, the one of the faces in venerable horror filmmaking has, in a broader sense, regurgitated the same movie over the decades now, tweaking bits and pieces here and there to make it ever so delicately unique.  Yet, “Doll Graveyard” feels very much like an extension of “Puppet Master” without bringing new elements to the table or even really linking “Doll Graveyard” to Full Moon’s more popular, longstanding franchise “Puppet Master,” which is essentially the face of the Band’s company.  We see Blade, we think Full Moon.  We see Six-Shooter, we think Full Moon.  We see Tunnler, we think Full Moon.  But if you show me “Doll Graveyard’s” rustic Samurai or The German with spear tipped helmet, coming around to Full Moon may not be the first to pop into the old thinker.  The story also feels a bit half-baked with the dolls coming to life by unexplained means and audiences would really need to put effort into surmising a reason, such as my own theory that Sophia’s departing soul, trapped beneath the dirt, absorbs into the dolls, giving them animated life and loyalty to Sophia.  None of that hypothesis is authenticated and we’re stuck with little-to-no answers in a film created for the sake of creepy dolls doing creepy things to creep out some cretin kids.

Those suffering from pediophobia probably should stay far away from “Doll Graveyard.” For everyone else, “Doll Graveyard” is now available on Blu-ray home video from Full Moon Features with AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, single-layered BD25. Presented in a 1.78:1 widescreen aspect ratio, back cover states transfer elements were remastered from the original 35mm negative. The original negative print has withstood the test of time with no visually acute damage, granted the print is less than 20-years-old; however, there is noticeable dust and dirt speckles, some of which measure more toward a vertical tilde. Textures are softer than expected for a rather young film in the grand scheme of cinema with rounded and smoothed over contours, especially around defining facial features, that create more of a splotch than an edge. A bright spot is the palette with a diffusion and delineation balance around stock lighting. The lossy English Dolby Digital 5.1 mix is difficult to distinguish between the other audio option available, a Dolby Digital 2.0, as there’s not enough atmospheric or ambient rampage in the side and rear channels when dolls go deadly, which is mostly in the medium closeup to extreme closeup range. Taking hold of the audio reigns, mostly, is the District 78 soundtrack. Likely where the remastered elements come into play with its gothic rock opening credits score, this Charles Band production trades the jaunty carnivalesque for reinforced horror theme elements of isolated piano and electronic notes the musical production has accolades for and this translates throughout when presenting the dolls ominously and when they strike and into the coda credits with a full-on instrumental rock and wordless vocal background piece that’s very circa 2000s. English subtitles are available to select. Special features include a making-of featurette with snippet interviews from the cast with an introduction from Charles Band, a blooper reel, and the trailer amongst other Full Moon prevuews. There are no after or during credit scenes. The traditional blue Amaray goes along with the current Full Moon remastered trend of their horror catalogue with yellow-green primary art, no inserts or tangible features, and a disc press cropped of the focal primary cover art. The region free release has a brisk runtime of 73 minutes and is not rated.

Last Rites: A pedestrian, pale comparison to Full Moon’s maniacal line of moppets, “Doll Graveyard” stands far too short being the lower rung runt among giants in the company’s lineup.

“Doll Graveyard” Available for Purchase Here!

Poor Quality Dynamic Effects That Have a Horrendously EVIL Bite! “Bad CGI Gator” reviewed! (Full Moon Features / Blu-ray)

“Bad CGI Gator” is an Amazon Choice item! Order it Here!

Six college students end the schoolyear with a long weekend at a lakeside cabin in rural Georgia.  Looking forward to the youthful debauchery of drinking themselves into a stupor and engaging in lots of sexual hanky-panky, they each throw their school issued laptops into an alligator’s lake habitat for an Instagram moment to go viral and also in a moment of jovial release to be finally done with school and kick off Summer.  When the small gator encounters the laptop’s electrical current, the gator grows into a monstrosity and has the unique ability to float through the air.  Now larger than man, the gator is ravenous for his next meal and the college students are an easy, convenient dish.  Trapped inside the cabin, brawn stupidity won’t save them against the mutated reptilian that circles outside, and they have to use every ounce of their brainpower to outsmart the insatiable beast. 

You’ve (probably) heard of “Bad CGI Sharks!”  Now, get ready to sink your horribly rendered jaws into “Bad CGI Gator,” the latest alligator creature feature comedy-horror from Charles Band’s camp of Full Moon Features.  Helmed by resident Full Moon filmmaker, “Deathbed” and “Dark Walker” director Danny Draven, the 2023 film removes practicality and plausibility for the sake of following in the wake of the badly rendered shark film from brothers Jason and Matthew Ellsworth.  “Bad CGI Gator” is also a family affair with Charles Band’s son, Zalman Band, in his first full-length feature writing credit that, like “Bad CGI Sharks, gives into itself and doesn’t take itself seriously with genre tropes, the gore and nudity one-two punch, and, of course, bad computer-generated imagery.  Shot in the location state of Georgia as well as in Charlie Band’s Full Moon estate in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, “Bad CGI Gator” is produced by the father-son duo of Charlie and Zalman with Nakai Nelson (“Evil Bong 420,” “Don’t Let Her In”) picking up the rest of the producing slack. 

If there was ever a time to root for a visually vexing constructed alligator and not the young people trying to save their lives from its floating ferocity, the time would be now.  The cast is compromised of the very worst caricatures of millennial youth with their “bros,” Instagram virality, and overall toxic behavior.  As a whole it’s all purposefully scripted to be painted like pure putrid of personas that sodomize the very essence of heroic protagonists.  Ben VanderMey (“Malicious”) and Cooper Drippe are impeccable at being gym bro chads, even VanderMey’s character is named Chad, and their on screen slay honeys, in Rebecca Stoughton and Sarah Buchanan, are social media influencing prejudgers with thigh-high skirts and low cut blouses.  The obnoxiously coarse foursome becomes grounded by contrasted counterparts in Sam and Hope, played by Michael Bonini (“#ChadGetstheAxe”) and Maddie Lane (“Monster Mash”), and this clues in audiences of the two more level-headed potential gator bait as the likely, predictable heroes who will either survive with their life or end up destroying the floating gator.  While the Chads and Paisleys are an exaggeration of arrogantly crass people, led with the worst of qualities for easy kill digestion, Sam and Hope are also to the extreme in a polar opposite manner.  Sam’s cautious philosophy makes him the butt of many jokes while the neutral Hope, a rival hottie shoulder-to-shoulder with the other ladies, can whip Chad into place with almost a stare being his stepsister.  The common dislike for tasteless jerks force Sam and Hope together with the gator being a keynote in closing the door on the once ajar flirtations.  Lee Feely rounds out the cast as a fisherman badmouthing the gator’s size, but the opening scene doesn’t do much for the rest of story nor does it come back to bite, literally, with the lack of Feely’s return in his short-lived moment. 

A title like “Bad CGI Gator” doesn’t come with any strings attached; there is no subtext, no character development, or convoluted storyline to really tickle and tease the brain in a sophistication of foreplay.  What you get are dumb, unlikeable characters for a deathroll of laughs and gnarly kills.  What you also get is a badly rendered giant floating alligator that on a one to ten on the badly rendered scale, this poor design is a four, resulting in a not too terribly layered and not the worst we’ve seen to date but obviously stands outs as a cut and pasted fake with animated movements.  Also entailed, in complete Full Moon fashion, is the alligator’s transmogrified size and supplied new abilities that allows it to chomp heads clean off, savagely gnaw on half-naked beauties, and swallow hole it’s biggest, most arrogant opponent.  What castrates the story is the limited locations with much of the cat and mouse play at the house and around the only vehicle for escape.  The adjacent lake is virtually untapped for watery carnage, an area of helplessness for prey, aka people, to float in suspension while something more dangerous lurks below the surface or meets them at eye level.  “Bad CGI Gator” is swampy camp at its best and, at the same time, at its worst but never pretends to be anything more.

Not only an ode to the monster movies of yore and a lampoon hit to the gross, schlocky creature features of more modern times, “Bad CGI Gator” emerges onto an AVC encoded, high-definition Blu-ray from Full Moon Features. The 1080p resolution on the single-layered BD25 of Full Moon’s feature number 395 has no digital discord regarding sharpness around the details. Gator POVs remark good pixel counts under and above water, delineating around the aquatic ecosystem including the plants and lake’s mucky floor. Night sequences bathed in a softer, illuminatingly spreading blue see equal amount of definition where the, what is considered to be, moon light hits and transition into the exterior cabin juxtapositions nicely with a warmer, shadowy outlined tone. The release’s audio mixes include a LPCM 5.1 surround sound and a LPCM Stereo 2.0. Early on, dialogue has a conical sound with reverberations that seemingly bounce back almost immediately. Though not totally free of audio fallibility, the dialogue does come across prominent and clean of distortion. Conical echoing dissipates later in the runtime and is replaced with the impenetrable sounds of a growling gator and its stomping around the cabin property that doesn’t seem to occupy the same space, much like the gator, ridiculing this particular creature feature sub-subgenre even more. English subtitles are optionally available. Special features include an audio commentary from director Danny Draven and screenwriter Zalman Band, a Screams from the Basement Podcast interview with the director, A second director interview on the Dead Talk Live Podcast, an isolated Jojo Draven musical score that sounds just as carnivalesque, humorous horror blend as Richard Band would compose, a blooper reel, a cast table read at the Full Moon mansion in Ohio, and the original trailer. The standard Blu-ray comes a fairly telling illustration of a savage-looking gator mouth agape just below a bitten-ripped Spring Break banner. There are no insert or other tangible bonus content alongside a humorously standing upright gator, slight smirking with the catalogue film number. “Bad CGI Gator” Blu-ray comes region free, has a runtime just under an hour at 58 minutes, and is not rated.

Last Rites: Full Moon’s satirical take on lousy alligator anarchy is spot on and though the cast of characters deserve every rendered tooth ripped into their flesh, the glossy gator pales in comparison to practical effects of its predecessors, and the story stinks as much as gator bait, “Bad CGI Gator” doesn’t false advertise this uncanny predator’s X-factors and that’s brownie points in my book.

“Bad CGI Gator” is an Amazon Choice item! Order it Here!

Prudish EVIL Takes on the Arcade in “Joysticks!” reviewed! (MVD Visual Rewind Collection / Blu-ray)

Get Your Herky-Jerkey Hands on “Joysticks’ on MVD Blu-ray!

Arcade manager Jefferson Bailey runs his grandfather’s business like a nonstop party lined with token-operated video game machines, stocked with a complete concession counter, and welcoming beautiful women to enjoy not only the endless entertainment of the arcade machines at all hours but also to gush over his handsome, easygoing demeanor. With an expert gamer and a newly hired dweeb helping to run the arcade, Bailey has a lot of free time to enjoy the perks of popularity until a wealthy businessman, Joseph Rutter, continues to have a hard time keeping his entitled daughter away from the arcade and Bailey which he considers both to be corrupting the town’s youth. Rutter, his two bumbling nephews, and a peevish gamer try everything in their power to shut down the arcade but Bailey, the employees, and the lucrative patronages won’t subside without a fight, even if that means settling everything on a single video game battle.

An obscure and forgotten teen sex comedy from the early 1980s, “Joysticks” is a celebration of the coin-operated video game at the height of the arcade’s heyday. Director Greydon Clark (“Satan’s Cheerleaders,” “Without Warning”) helms the Al Gomez, Mickey Epps, and Curtis Burch screenplay with ton of sex appeal, a display of 8-bit gaming graphics, and a cheesy, chunky storyline of big, bad entitlement versus the small, teen-run business of fun, sex, and videogames. The 1983 film was shot in Los Angeles and had introduced to the big screen not only a few of the more popular game titles – Pac-Man, Millipede, Pole Position, Naughty Boy, and Defender 2 – of the period but also introduced a new game with Midway’s Satan’s Hollow. “Joysticks” is a Greydon Park Production with associate producers in Curtis Burch, Daryl Kass (“Darkman”), and George Perkins (“Teen Wolf”) with also Clair Farley and Raylan D. Jensen serving as executive producers.

Headlining “Joysticks” is legendary, recognizable actor of “Walking Tall” and “The Shadow of Chikara,” Joe Don Baker, as the gruffly, arrogant suit Joseph Rutter going up against the then arcading-entrenched youth, represented primarily by actor-turned-director Scott McGinnis (“Last Gasp”) as the fun-loving arcade manager Jefferson Bailey. Baker fits into that stereotypical group of the out of touch older generation who doesn’t understand new and fascinating entertainment technology that attracts young people and, as he would understand it, these arcades are nothing more than the exterminating flame that attracts the unsuspecting moth. Bailey makes for a good fun while upholding certain convictions that doesn’t entail him being the villain of the story; those attributes fall not only into Baker’s lap but also Jonathan Gries as the eccentric gothic gang-leader King Vidiot. The “Fright Night 2” and “TerrorVision” actor, who outside the horror realm is well known for being Uncle Rico to the titular “Napolean Dynamite,” sports blue-red hair, cladded in leather, and has a hold over four equally garbed and dyed-colored women as his subjects to his peculiar behavior around the arcade. Initially Gries felt like an integrated part of the clientry until miffed by the arcade’s resident joystick and buttons master of gameplay, Dorfus (Jim Greenleaf, “Evil Speak”) in a one-on-one challenge. If “Joysticks” is a film about the joys of an arcade hall that’s precious to protect from overly concerned parents, the Dorfus character is pretty much the antithesis of that theme having once been the high school thin valedictorian now a sloppy, flatulating, and overweight gamer. Another character that doesn’t quite fit into the equation is the nerdy Eugene (Leif Green) whose character predates “Revenge of the Nerds” that released a year later but didn’t quite absorb into the fold of the only other companioning misfit in Dorfus. Where Eugene succeeds, with the help of Green’s performance, is the bumbling dumb-smart guy whose innocence instills more trouble for himself than anything else, especially with the braless women around him with Kym Malin (“Weird Science”), Kim G. Michel, Becky LeBleau (“School Spirit”), Lynda Wiesmeier (“Avenging Angel”), Morgan Lofting, and Corinne Bohrer (“Zapped!”). The supporting cast fills out with John Diehl (“Stargate”), John Voldstad (“Leprechaun”), and Logan Ramsey (“Doctor Hackenstein”).

As far as in the canon of 80’s teen sex comedies, “Joysticks” fits the bill as a nonpolitically correct cinematic lark with all the goofy and raunchy bells and whistles that come standard with these types of movies but there’s something missing from the ’83 feature that doesn’t quite put the categorical entry at the same quintessential high level as “Revenge of the Nerds,” “Private School,” or “Porky’s.” The narrative trajectory often stays in stagnant territory, or in more detailed terms a lopsidedness, instead of a back-and-forth, tit-for-tat jostling contest that hardly challenges the opposition to face dire straits. Also, too often does “Joysticks’s” jokes fall flat, perhaps the lost in flavor is due in part to the film’s 40-year-old comedic gags, that mostly reoccurs with Dorfus passing horrible gas or Eugene stumbling into an unlikely sexpot to his disadvantage. There is substance in a deeply rooted character arc with the once pro-level Jefferson Bailey unable to play his beloved coin-operated machines because of a traumatic event involving a past love of his life that results in him trembling, sweating, and getting into his own headspace but that, too, is obstructed by the warmed-over objective that generally has a loveless love-interest in a mostly male dominated principal cast, a short-fused motivation reasoning for most characters, and a rough patch polish, such as with that ear-throbbing main theme song, that tries to compensate with wacky situational and sexual archetypes which are not unpalatable to say the least but can’t keep “Joysticks” from respawning after all its lives have been used up.

Catalogued as number 58th on the MVD Rewind Collection banner, in conjunction with the Multicom Entertainment Group, “Joysticks” receives special package design that will surely please fans of older video game consoles and cartridges, but the packaging keeps with the Rewind Collection overall theme that is a testament to its label.  The AVC encoded, single-layer BD25 presents the fill in full 1080p HD and in an anamorphic widescreen aspect ratio of 1.78:1, based off a 2015 2K scan and restoration of the 25mm film elements.  This 2015 transfer is likely from the Scorpion Releasing limited number release from nearly a decade ago, licensed to MVD for broader and more easily accessible distribution.  Though an older transfer, the color saturation still pops albeit some heftier grainy frames that stumbles the overall consistency from time-to-time.  This ultimately also affects the details to an extent, especially on medium shots where the action is pulled away from the camera to get a wider view.  Closeups and extreme closeups look better with tighter detail and better contrast.  The English LPCM 2.0 mono is the only available audio track.  The lossless format provides ample volume and is a real pedigree of the original audio recording.  Dialogue has most a firm grasp on the layer design with no inaudible inadequacies but can often be anemic in more noisy settings, such as the arcade where bleeps, bloops, and other video game noises invade the audio field and dilute distinction and depth.  Legion’s “Joysticks” theme track also renders palely in his cheesy metaphorical lyrics that mix sex with video game playing, even if as appropriate as it may be to the context.  English subtitles are available for selection.  Special features include an archival feature length commentary and interview with director Greydon Clark but also has a brand-new roundtable commentary with MVD’s director of acquisition Eric D. Wilkinson, Cereal at Midnight host Heath Holland, and Diabolik DVD’s Jesse Nelson.  There’s a short film “Coin Slots” which is a faux “Joysticks” trailer that costars Eric D. Wilkinson and directed by Youtuber and producer Newt Wallen.  MVD’s physical presence of “Joysticks” is where the fun is at with an Atari themed orange slipcover with boxed in picture of sex-comedy appeal poster art, a more slimdown version design that’s more attuned to the MVD Rewind Collection look for the cover art in the clear Blu-ray Amaray case, and a Blu-ray disc pressed with the coloring and markings of an Atari game cartridge.  A more complete version of the cartridge look is on the reverse side of the reverse cover art, preferably for this reviewer to mix up the designs between slipcover and cover art.  A folded, back-and-front illustrated mini-poster of both cover arts is housed in the inside the case insert.  The region free release has a runtime of 88 minutes and is rated R. 

Last Rites: The packaging alone is worth the cost of this inexplicably obscure and quaintly waxen teen sex-comedy that now breathes new life on a more accessible high-definition Blu-ray release from MVD Visual!

Get Your Herky-Jerkey Hands on “Joysticks’ on MVD Blu-ray!

How Many Chickens Need to Have Their Throats Cut to Satisfying Ritualistic, Naked EVIL! “Voodoo Passion” reviewed! (Full Moon Features / Blu-ray)

Get Entranced by Full Moon’s “Voodoo Passion” Blu-ray!

Newly married Susan House travels to Haiti to join her consulate husband, Jack House, who has been stationed at the British Embassy.   Captivated by the Haitian voodoo religion and culture, Susan is eager to tour the island nation’s most ambiguous practice most don’t or will never understand all the while Jack’s naked and nymphomaniac Sister, Olga, makes forward, flirtatious advances toward her.  That fervor for voodooism and Olga’s point-blank seduction has seemingly incepted terrible nightmares of naked, animal sacrificial rituals and murder conducted beguilingly by a priestess in the form of Jack House’s native housekeeper, Inês.  When Susan awakes, the realism of her dreams afflicts her but her husband Jack and his colleague, a psychiatrist by the name of Dr. Pierre Barré swear there have been no police reported murders.  Night after night, Susan’s entranced nightmares continue to be vivid with murderous mysticism that’s slowly driving her mad in the land of voodoo. 

One of Jesus “Jess” Franco’s more bosom and bush erotic-thrillers, “Voodoo Passion” is nearly a fully naked runtime feature sprinkled with hints of the nation’s cultural religion.  The 1977 released, German Production, also known by the titles “”Call of the Blonde Goddess” or “Der Ruf der blonden Göttin,” was less about his own stylistic substance and auteur stamp and more about spasmatic, gyrating nudity under rhythmic bongo beats for the Spanish sleaze and exploitation genre filmmaker.   The gratuitously sexed-up, multinational feature is penned by the Switzerland born, sexploitation and adult genre screenwriter Erwin C. Dietrich under one of his pen names, Manfred Gregor.  Dietrich also produces the film amongst a substantially historical collaborative effort between himself and Franco over the course of the late 70s to early 80s.  Nestor Film Producktion serves as the production company, filming entirely not in Haiti but in the beautifully scenic and old-world allure of the seaside capital of Lisbon, Portugal.  

Lots of hot body action in this beat-driven, voodooism thriller primarily between a trio of character-diverse, titillating ladies and peppered with peripheral nude women and men tribals engaged in a ceaseless native, ritual thrusting, pulsing, and shaking trance dance.  “Voodoo Passion” grips itself around the rags-to-riches character of Mrs. Susan House in what is a matron-look for Spanish actress Ada Tauler (“The Sexy Horrible Vampire,” “Love Camp”) brought to Haiti at the behest of her British consult, newlywed husband Jack House, played by the stony-faced and “Eugenie” and “Pieces” American actor Jack Taylor able to swing both thrills and feminine frills in his films.  While Tauler’s doesn’t shy away from full nudity of Susan House’s fever dream state, the actress pales in comparison to the other two-thirds who are more engaged in sexual promiscuity and the liberating fervor of ethnic ceremony.   Those two actresses are “Caged Women’s” Karine Gambier as the nymphomaniac sister of Jack House and the face of most of “Voodoo Passion’s” physical marketing with French actress Muriel Montossé (“Cecilia”), under the more westernized stage name of Vicky Adams.  With a face and body like a model, Vicky Adams’s wild arm and stoic expression dance moves will hypnotize viewers entranced with the bongo tempo’s transfixing pomp, contributing to the film’s psychotronic premise of magical and religious rites, obfuscated nightmares, and, cue Austin Powers’s voice, murder.  Yeah, Baby!  “Voodoo Passion” has curves for days and in all different personas that keep things weirdly, but welcomingly, platonic on some level and not just an overly saturated sex-fest.  The film’s cast rounds out with Vitor Mendes (“Swedish Nympho Slaves”) and Ly Frey.

If asked to describe or give an opinion on “Voodoo Passion,” one would say cheekily the Jess Franco film is a thriller swathed in an eyeful of bosom and bush.  If the 4-minute introductory scene with voiceover exposition to the ceremonial voodoo band and half-naked native dancers wasn’t enough of a clue, Ada Tauler and Karine Gambier pull you right back into the soaking tub with their soapy, wet bodies as they immediately take a bath together upon meeting for the first time.  From that point on, the bosom and bush bar has been set and in that the thicket of unshaven landing strips, there’s a good story underneath about the mystics and misconceptions of Haitian voodooism.  Unfortunately, much of that story falls behind the showcases of skin, thrusting the principal ladies into the spotlight, overshadowing Jack Taylor’s performance as well as doing nothing for the poor psychologist in Vitor Mendes, and undercutting the very theme of ritual exploitation and misconduct which is half of “Voodoo Passion’s” concept.  The entirety is all quickly surmised in one fell swoop of exposition without the necessary leg work, that should have been carried out by either Susan House or the consul assistant Inês, of building evidence for or against the contrary exposed in the finale.  Then again, does gorgeous naked women dancing about really need a well-rounded plot?  All depends on the eyes of the beholder and these eyes needed that equilibrium!

Full Moon Features conjures up a Blu-ray for this Jess Franco thriller debased in sexploitation slather.  The AVC encoded, high-definition 1080p, is housed on a single layer BD25, yet not encoded heavily with bonus content, “Voodoo Passion” is able to retain a full-bodied image from a remastered German original negative owned by producer Erwin C. Dietrich.  Vivid color saturation, contrast levels accompanying each other, natural looking skin tons, and the stunning detail render this Full Moon Features release the bees’ knees.  No signs of blocking or banding but some celluloid frames are slightly grainier than others that might be a result of age, wear, or the variable of film stock.  There is only a single audio option, an English LPCM 5.1 renders lossless audio, clearing each channel with ease, and delivering a rhythmic bongo drum beat with intensity.  Dialogue mirrors the richness despite the ADR track overtop the diverse nationalities’ native tongues.  There are no English subtitles, or any setup option for that matter, for this English only track release.  Special features included are an archival interview with Jess Franco with forced English subtitles Franco, Bloody Franco, a rare photo slideshow of images from the film, the German trailer, and a Jess Franco vintage trailer reel of most of his schlocky Eurosleaze fair.  What’s party treasured about these newly re-released films onto a new full HD transfer is Full Moon’s physical package redesigns that offer a cardboard slipcover with new illustrated, pinup-esque, art.  “Voodoo Passion” has a half-naked woman, presumably the nymphomaniac sister Olga, moaning in ecstasy while holding a…hand mirror?  Wonder if that should have been the champaign bottle Olga uses to, well, you know, pleasure herself with.   There’s also a striking, NSFW, Muriel Montossé pose in a scene from the film on the traditional Blu-ray Amaray front cover with additional explicit scenes on the backside.  The disc is pressed with the same slipcover illustration and there are no inserts inside the case.  Presented uncut and region free, this Full Moon release of Jess Franco’s vintage sleaze has a runtime of 86-minutes.   

Last Rites:  Another wholly impressive picture quality presentation of another unwholesome, softcore sexploitation by Full Moon Features, a friend to Haitian voodoo and you, the licentiously greedy viewer! 

Get Entranced by Full Moon’s “Voodoo Passion” Blu-ray!

This Little Pit Stop of EVIL Doesn’t Have Gumdrops and Lollipops. “Candy Land” reviewed! (MVD Visual / Blu-ray)

Visit “Candy Land” On Blu-ray. Purchase Here!

Candy Land is the bestowed designation of a truck stop at one of the last exits through Bible Belt country.  The monikered hotspot is home to four prostitutes, Sadie, Riley, Levi, and Liv, who work for ends meet, servicing all the needs of commercial truckers, those passing through, and even the local sheriff as long as they can cough up the cash.  The only ones not seeking pitstop sex worker services at Candy Land is a religious cult trying to spread the world of the lord around the same stretch of space.  When one of the members, a young and naïve Remy, shows up ostracized from the zealot sect, the sex workers take her in, treat her with kindness, and convince her to be worked into their profession.  Shortly after, gruesomely murdered bodies are found in and around the truck stop turning the once desired Candy Land into a life-threatening place to work, and enlightening the lot lizards that Candy Land is more seedy than once believed.

Shot in the foreground of the scenic Montana mountains, John Swab’s “Candy Land” is a lewd offering that screams the ugly part of something beautiful.  The 2022 USA horror-thriller is a written-and-directed by the “Run with the Hunted” and “Body Brokers” filmmaker Swab in the director’s first go at fringe horror that involves sex work, crazy cults, and hidden knife sheathed inside a large wooden cross.  Swab’s script takes a path less trodden perspective to most similar narratives and pulls inspiration heavily from the 70’s grindhouse era with lots of skin and lots of blood.  Swab produces his own film alongside fellow “Run with the Hunted” and “Body Brokers” producer Jeremy Rosen (“I Am Fear”), with Robert Ogden Barnum (“31”) and Michael Reiser (“Abandoned”) as executive producers, under the production banner of Roxwell Films.

The ensemble cast is comprised of Hollywood veterans, up-and-coming actors, and even a famous last name.  The latter would be then 29-year-old Eden Brolin, daughter of Josh Brolin (“No Country for Old Men”) and granddaughter of James Brolin (“The Amityville Horror”), who is quickly paving her own path having landed as a season regular on the widely popular modern western series “Yellowstone.”  The “Blood Bound” actress is joined by equally young and hungry talent of Sam Quartin, a multi-time John Swab collaborator with roles in “Run with the Hunted” and “Body Brokers,” Virginia Rand (“I Am Fear”), and Owen Campbell (“X”) who are definitely not shy showing of their bodies, simulating explicit sex acts, and step into a compromising prostitute’s shoes as “Candy Land’s” unashamed lot lizards, or that’s what they portray for their characters on screen.  Together, a bond is formed between the working stiffs of sex workers, leaning on each other for support while seemingly living a free and uninhibited life with a good chunk of change in their pocket, but their profession is no walk in the truck lot as taxing moments in sidestepped affairs of the main plot show the darker side of prostitution, mostly involving Owen Campbell’s Levi as a straight man willing to anything for cash in a male dominated over-the-road trucking industry.  Their chimera’s end of the beginning is when Remy strolls into their lives like a lost puppy.  “It Follows’” Olivia Luccardi plays the meek and underestimated cult girl turning tricks as a way get a foot-in the door to cleanse damned souls to send to Gods’ pearly gates in Heaven and while Luccardi has the substantial feign madness well set in her eyes and actions, her story slips below that of the original four truck stop hookers as much of Luccardi’s backstory or even her perpetual motion through her perspective loses to the arbitrary wanes of killing for the sake of killing when the chance is at hand.  Cast rounds out with Guinevere Turner (“American Psycho”), Brad Carter (“The Devil to Pay”), Bruce Davis (“Agnes”), Billy Blair (“What Josiah Saw”), Mark Ward, and another famous last name from William Baldwin (“Flatliners”) as the daunting, downlow Sheriff Rex who has a strong, affectionate thing for Levi. 

The very first opening scene and montage of a sandy-blond Sadie going truck-to-school bus-to-bathroom stall to give a sense of what to expect and the down-and-dirty daily workload for our principal prostitutes sets the tone of Swab’s lickerish thriller with grindhouse endowments.  “Candy Land” is more than just a nutso cult film with all the hallmarks of sordidness as the interpretation received from the story is this temporariness in these characters’ lives.  From the transient paying clients of a truck stop, to living in the impermanence of a hotel room, to even the things they ingest, such as the smoke of incessant drags of cigarettes as a brief coping mechanism and the food they eat with the Hostess Snowballs that have fleeting substance in them to stave off hunger for a little while and only provide negligible nutrition, the temporarily speaks volumes toward the plot of a killer under the influence of a radicalized cleansed ideology wasting away those in provisional moments.  Swab finely sets up character quirks, an unsavory, realistic world, and distinct dynamics to enmesh the characters in a life they attempt to put a pretty face on only that pretty face is a pig wearing lipstick, forcing them into uncertainty and wearing them down to a point they can’t face what’s important and dangerous right in front of them – a young, confused girl led astray and looking for answers.  Instead, that girl, teetering on the edge of purity and dissolution having nowhere to call home, is not safeguarded and is folded into their own licentious lives and, like a Trojan horse, she ultimately become their downfall. 

For “Candy Land’s” inaugural home video release, VMI Distribution and MVD Visual releases the John Swab horror onto Blu-ray.  The AVC encoded, high definition 1080p, BD25 conscripts not a single compression issue in the breathtaking, mountainous landscapes of Montana, affixing great distance between Candy Land and the rest of the world to describe the troubled brief getaway from reality without actually saying it. Presented in a widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio, details are greatly appreciated here with the graphic and vulgar markings inside the restrooms, skin tones fair a natural coloring, and a good amount of the whole film is lit naturally with the occasional greenish-yellow gel work to enhance the dinginess of a seedy truck stop. The English language, lossy Dolby Digital 5.1 surround track settles the best fidelity that it can muster, reining in unbridled tracks for a more subdued approach that befits more the lowkey motel suspenser than a fueled high-rise stimulator. Dialogue is clean and clear enough; a few instances cause for mumbling concern but quickly pass and that link is quickly made in the off word that’s missed. Soundtrack contains well-blended, well-intermingled snippets of classic rock, alternative and R&B from the 90s, and a quaint Christmas selection. Yes, “Candy Land” could be considered a Christmas movie! English subtitles are optionally available. Special features are limited by the disc capacity that houses only John Swab’s commentary track and retroesque, in-character stills of a digital zine. The standard Blu-ray Amaray snapper case for this limited-edition release is nothing short of pedestrian with a homage cover art that, I must admit, made me suspect Candy Land” was more a vampire film than a cultist’ coup of truck stop sex workers because of my lack of doing any kind of film prep for any of the screeners I receive – keeps me objectively aligned. You’ll find the same image pressed on the disc itself with no insert accompanying. Not rated and locked on a region A playback, this release has the film clocked in at 93 minutes.

Last Rites: “Candy Land’s” sweetness derives from its in-your-face sexual audacity that rings a certain truth inside the unsavory cash-making aspects of the oldest profession and Swab takes us out from the game’s usual vivarium of the darkened streets and the dingy underpasses into the brightly lit and very populated desert with a different breed of the species. The instilled cult angle feels more slapdash in comparison that sunders the acts more acutely and without a clear reason, leaving the finale unsatisfactory like a $20 handy.

Visit “Candy Land” On Blu-ray. Purchase Here!