EVIL’s Confessional Will Be Their Rex-oning! “The VelociPastor” reviewed!


Father Doug Jones witnesses his parent’s murder by a violent car explosion and begins to question his devotion to God. At the advice of his friend, Father Stewart, Jones travels the world to rediscover his faith, landing him in the deep forests of China where he comes in contact with an ancient, mystical artifact. His discovery is life changing, or rather physically changing, as the power of the relic enables him to transform into a vicious dinosaur. The horrifying thought of his transformation and killing of an armed and dangerous thug has the priest scrambling to recollect himself as the man of the cloth, but the prostitute, who witnesses his true calling of vigilantism, convinces him to use his newfound powers against the swarm of crime. A secret clan of ninjas, acquainted with Jones’ abilities, seek to destroy his unofficial denomination to progress their diabolical plan for domination.

Full disclosure. There in lies a soft spot for bad, sometimes off-script, horror movies involving the prehistoric reptilians. On the USA Network, decades ago when USA Network had late night horror films, “Carnosaur” trilogy was enjoyable to watch, hooking and reeling me into the dino horror subgenre. The categorically offbeat genre even unearthed my celebrity crush even before I knew who she was with “Tammy and the T-Rex.” Even in the heavily edited form, Denise Richards still stunned me with her dino-riffic dynamics. Plus, Vinegar Syndrome is releasing an unedited version! ItsBlogginEvil just posted a review, not too long ago, for another Wild Eye releasing, “Jurassic Dead!” Steven Spielberg and the “Jurassic Park” franchise, of course, laid the foundation of critically acclaimed Triassic and Cretaceous thrillers, but the crude complexion of the indie market feels more at home, more uninhibited, and, definitely, more spirited and that’s what writer-director Brendan Steere and his team breathes new life into with the horror-comedy “The Velocipastor!”

The man behind the titular “The VelociPastor” character is Greg Cohan, a television actor regular, who dons the clerical collar and endeavors through the practical special effects of “The First Purge’s” Jennifer Suarez. Young, fit, and a good sport, Doug Jones is perfect for a clergyman turned velociraptor who dismembers the wicked and karate kicks ninjas while also sporting a pink mini dress in a scene of self revelation and also doing hand-to-hand combat in whitey-tighties. Opposite Jones, playing the love interest, is Alyssa Kempinski as the hooking for tuition pre-law med student, Carol, who becomes the facilitator of Father Jones prehistoric predicament. Jones and Kempinksi charisma shine through the absurdity as their keenest for each other develops into a full fledge fighting duo. Kempinski’s softer touch compared to Cohan’s zany comedy levels out, if that’s even possible, a film about a priest with a dino-lycanthrope complex. “The VelociPastor” supporting cast are equally as sharp with the farcical, pulpy vibe, rounding out with some really fantastic performance from amateur actors, including Aurelio Voltaire (“Model Hunger”), Brendan Steere’s father Daniel Steere, Jesse Turtis, Jiechang Yang, and a pulsating rendition of a worst-of-the-worst pimp with Fernando Pacheco de Castro.

“The VelociPastor” doesn’t take itself seriously, paralleling the similarities to other martial art parodies like “Kung Pow: Enter the Fist,” but Steere incorporates a healthy appreciation for pulp writing and independent filmmaking for his crowdfunded venture. While the “The VelociPastor” might have a trashy, kitschy name to draw in audience and also heavily lined pocket patrons, the film itself isn’t all that trashy, schlocky, or shoddy. Much of the action is not Father Doug Jones as a skin-shredding Dinosaur wreaking havoc amongst the lowlifes and crime syndicates, the very vibrant montage takes care of that, but rather runs a baseline story of a man and a woman, from two separate worlds of prostitution and a man of faith fall in love, has fairly simple and conventional means once all the idiosyncratic glitter and glam is removed; a notion that can be said to be the foundational basis for many other movies. Even director Brendan Steere admitted during a Q and A session that “The VelociPastor” isn’t a jab at the Church, closing the door on conjecture and blasphemous intentions with the ending remark that velocipastor just sounded cool from a harmless auto-correct error.

Wild Eye Releasing and Cyfuno Ventures presents “The VelociPastor” onto a unrated DVD home video. Based off Brendan Steere’s 2011 faux grindhouse trailer of the same title which the director used 16mm Kodak stock, the feature film loses a fair amount of that particular grindhouse appeal, but Steere still manages to manufacture grindhouse attributes by creating scratches on the floor of his dark bathroom and also baking the film in his oven to obtain a warm, dry coloring to give the film age and deterioration. Details in the 2018 film are ten times more distinguishable than in his 2011 trailer and the since being garnished almost completely with practical effects, nothing detailed has grand poise and exhibits every uncouth knook and cranny that only adds to the horror-comedy’s charm. The 2.0 stereo mix has an even keel about it and doesn’t embark on the same grindhouse wear Steere attempts to develop on the image, but the dialogue is prominent and ambience, from the fighting hits to the roar, is on point with depth and range. English closed captioning subtitles are available. Bonus features include a commentary track, gag reel, a Texas Frightmare Cast and Crew question and answer with Greg Cohan, Brendan Steere, and Jesse Gouldsbury, and the theatrical trailer. As about as B-movie as a feature can get, “The VelociPastor” rekindles the jurassic age’s primal instincts and unleashes a new and ferocious cult icon, one that’ll not only bite your head clean off, but will exact the last rites before doing so! Amen!

The VelociPastor on DVD! Click the DVD to buy!

Get Video Nasty Evil With “I Drink Your Blood” review!


A pledge group of amateur, hippie Satanists on a LSD-induced drug trip have their nationwide havoc reeking voyage come to a screeching halt when their dilapidated van breaks down at an equally dilapidated small quarry town with an isolated population of 40 residents. Squatting in a vacant hotel, Horace, the clique’s leader, dangerously lets his followers indulge in their whims while under the powerful hallucinogen. Their brutal run in with a local girl causes a stir of attempted reprisal amongst the girl’s family, especially with her grandfather who aims to remove the hippies from the area, but when the elderly man is beaten up and given the a taste of LSD, a whole new can of meat pies is opened up! Looking for retaliation for his grandfather’s battering, the grandson withdraws blood from a rabid dog he killed earlier in the day and spikes the town bakery’s meat pies that were to be specifically purchased by Horace’s gang. The combination of rabies and LSD turns the deranged Satanist into foaming at the mouth and infectious killing machines set loose amid the town’s 40 person population.

Let it be known that Satan was an acidhead. That shocking phrase serves as a prelude of the horrible acts to come in David Durston’s “I Drink Your Blood.” The 1970 Jerry Gross produced exploitation and infected horror video nasty, notoriously labeled an X rating solely for the graphic violence, is a quintessential staple of Americana horror. Shot in upstate New York and based off true, and disturbing, events, Durston’s written and directed feature is a horrific tale harnessing every unspeakable evil in the unholy book: rape, drugs, murder, abortion, promiscuity, cannibalism and even touches a little upon racism. Durston flaunts a scattered-brain and raw edit that fluently rides along with the script’s crazed atrocities.

“I Drink Your Blood” never cashes in on one headlining actor to fulfill a star lead; instead, calculated characters fill the void where needed, an endearing homage attested by the structures invested by George Romero who used a similar blueprint for his pioneering, black and white horror classic “Night of the Living Dead.” Bhaskar, aka Bhaskar Roy Chowdhury, tops the credit list. The India born actor stars as the sadistic Satanist leader Horace, one of the handful of ethnic roles whose character background mingles more on the Native American side. Every so often, Bhaskar’s native accent filters through, but the actor’s devilishly brilliant performance reassures a radically raw and physical undertaking that forgiveness for such a small concern is automatically defensible. Other prominent roles were awarded to John Damon (“Blue Sextet”), George Patterson (“God Told Me To”), Rhonda Fultz, Arlene Farber (“The French Connection”), Iris Brooks, Richard Bowler, and a young Riley Mills has the rabies-revenger Peter Banner. However, another cast member, in a minor, less dialogue role, has overshadowed many of her costars in light of her legacy since then. Lynn Lowry, known for her role in George A. Romero’s “The Crazies” and more recently in Debbie Rochon’s directed exploitation film “Model Hunger” that was reviewed here at Its Bloggin’ Evil, plays a mute hippie turned rabid killer in a memorable video nasty-warranted scene involving a, then, antique electric knife, like the ones you plug into the wall.

In the glory of “I Drink Your Blood’s” sickest and most stunning special effects that include the poignantly severed limbs and heads of likable characters, a synthesizing score also gnaws at your gut-riddled nerves. During intense moments, harmless butterflies fluttering against your stomach’s inner layer, tickling your core’s coy innocence, violently alter through a bone-chilling metamorphosis, evolving into gut-busting vampire bats with razor sharp talons and flesh ripping fangs. Your whole whitewashed body will clench during Clay Pitt’s one of a kind visceral score, pitched in an ear piercing vortex during high anxiety segments such as when a diseased oppressed Horace and a shaken dam worker are toe-to-toe in a deadly standoff in the hotel’s attic. The jarring soundtrack pulses up until the end which stands as my only gripe for Durston’s film. The climatic ending has it’s formidable bubble popped when the tense scene immediate concludes while obvious questions still remain, such as what happened to Carrie, Lynn Lowry’s character, that goes unexplained?

Australian EX Films presents a monster of a high definition bundle release for David E. Durston’s “I Drink Your Blood” that includes two Blu-ray discs bundled with a VHS clamshell of the film. Inside a reversible artwork case, the first disc is an all region BD50 that stuns in a vivid 1080p in an 1.66:1 aspect ratio. Image quality maxes out with vibrant blues, yellows, and, especially, blood red, your three main colors in technicolor. The second disc gets even better with two bonus films, Del Tenney’s 1964 usual associated doubled bill feature “I Eat Your Skin” and David Durston’s 1969 erotic “Blue Sextet.” Over the course of the two Blu-ray discs, there are a slew of extras including a commentary by David Durrston and the late Bhaskar Roy Chowdhury, four never before seen scenes, video interviews with Lynn Lowry, Tyde Kierney, and Jack Damon, along with stills, poster, and home video art. You’ll also get rare footage of Bhaskar performing “The Evil King Cobra Dance”, the original trailer with two radio segments, and much, much more. Dolby Digital two-channel track vibrates constantly with forefront dialogue, hardly any disruptive damage, and well balanced levels amongst all tracks. The limited edition bundle includes a PAL formatted cassette of the original double billed films, as aforementioned, inside a reversible artwork housed clamshell. And that’s not all! Lastly, this bundle includes a Horror Hypo Needle and LSD Blotter Art tabs, featuring the artwork from “I Drink Your Blood.” Check out the image below to get an inside look. Even though “I Drink Your Blood” beats around the bush with social depravities such as gangbangs, drugs, and a quick stint of Satanic activity, this overall mega fan package from EX Films is a must own for the true video nasty collector or aggregate aficionados of unhinged horror.

BUY YOUR EX FILMS VHS BUNDLE TODAY! HURRY BEFORE THIS LIMITED EDITION SET IS ALL GONE!

A Pair of Evil Jugs Seek to Take Over the World! “Killer Rack” review!

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Boobs. They are the supreme catalyst toward obtaining professional achievement. They are the driving force behind stabling a lustful relationship. They are the cat’s meow for curbed catcalling. For flat chested Betty, a cavernous cleavage praising society doesn’t show her a lick of titty-twisting respect, being the constant butt of a running joke for her asset-less figure, until she schedules a life altering, boob-enhancing appointment with Dr. Thulu, an uncredited and unlicensed plastic surgeon seeking the perfect, wholesome vessel to host her blood hungry, elder world creatures for planet domination. Betty’s implanted funbags are all but fun when the mammary monstrosities begin devouring hounding perverts when getting handsy with Betty’s girls. The diabolical double Ds slowly take control over Betty’s consciousness and will, eventually, take full mastery, but will true love put a permanent road block toward ruling the world?
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Horror-comedy “Killer Rack” is a Lovecraftian inspired schlock film from “Slice City” and it’s sequel, “Slime City Massacre,” director “Greg Lamberson and penned by Paul McGinnis, who also has a co-starring role. The slapstick riot embellishes the real life battle of young women’s self-esteem, the constant struggle with the female physique, and with lots and lots of different levels of sexual harassment to the point where “Killer Rack” is basically becomes a social awareness film. Even though “Killer Rack” is blatantly farcical, the representation of men objectifying women is quite scary and Lamberson and McGinnis hone very meticulously on every facet related from gawking to catcalling and from sleaziness to potential rape. The manufactured, boob-infatuated universe McGinnis and Lamberson create isn’t a far stretch from this one with every single scene so ingrained with breast obsession that’s, as an American, I feel almost ashamed of myself for watching “Killer Rack,” but my European bloodline revels in this type of perverse gratification.
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Lamberson, also known for his novel publications stemming from the early 2000s, continues his schlep of low-budget filmmaking over the course of three decades as a producer, writer, and director and the refreshing part of his career is that Lamberson has kept the course, providing fans of undiluted horror trash in a resilient body of work with “Killer Rack” being no exception. The ambitious undertaking stars a fresh faced indie actress Jessica Zwolak in the lead sporting the killer rack and Zwolak nails the intended comedy, pulling off the center of gravity gag numerous times post-implant surgery and being able to effectively switch between conscious Betty and puppet Betty. Surrounding Zwolak are collective years of a indie filmmaking experience that solidify Lamberson’s shtick filmmaking including long time industry leader and co-founder of Troma Entertainment, Lloyd Kaufman, being his great idiosyncratic character onscreen, but the buck doesn’t stop there with a roster of vets. The fiendish Dr. Thulu is embraced by one of the genre’s favorite, hard working indie scream queens Debbie Rochon (“Tromeo & Juliet,” “Dollface”) who submerses herself elbows deep into the film’s H.P. Lovecraft mythology. By far, my personal favorite genre star making a brief cameo was Roy Frumkes, the Jim Muro “Street Trash” businessman who melts away in a glorious death, reliving that well-known death scene once again but sprayed in the face this time with toxic breast milk!
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“Killer Rack” nestles snuggly in between the two dirty pillows that are indie pop culture and social undercurrents, but only hardcore fans who follow this particular niche filmmaking will understand and enjoy the special effects puppetry, the outlandish absurdity, and the homage barrage of references. Lamberson and McGinnis’ 2015 horror-comedy was completely made for us, the dedicated fans, and that’s also the downfall as many popcorn cinema goers will become lost and probably offended, especially in this particular modern culture. That’s why we should embrace actresses like Debbie Rochon, Jessica Zwolak, Brooke Lewis, and Brittani Hare for being strong and good-natured actresses for being subjected to culturally deplorable material delivered by the actors, such as by the one-man show that is Michael Thurber (“Sins of Dracula,” “Model Hunger”). The play on words titled film follows a very simple, if not already on some obsolete plane, structure of comedy that’s not necessarily a negative aspect of the film, but rather sets a modest tone for the whole blood thirsty boobies concept.
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Akin to Mitchell Lichtenstein’s “Teeth,” the Slaughtered Lamp Productions produced and Camp Motion Pictures home entertainment distributed “Killer Rack” provides a similar feministic horror in a screwball, dystopian world. The unrated DVD presents the film in an anamoprhic widescreen 1.78:1 aspect ratio with image quality that really details the budget. Flesh tones look natural, blacks are fairly solid, and no sign of major aliasing or compression issues. The English 2.0 audio sustains clean and clear quality throughout with forefront dialogue and appropriates ambient and sound effects properly during sequences of Chtulhu inspired bone crunching, blood splattering, and torso piercing. Bonus features are nicely stacked for “Killer Rack,” including a commentary track, deleted scenes, a behind-the-scenes featurette, a bonus short film “Kill the B!tch” and “The Camper,” and trailers. “Killer Rack” fondles around the sexual harassment issues and hilariously denaturalizes, as if implants weren’t already unnatural, with a diabolical pair of creature infested tatas!”

How can you say no to a “Killer Rack!” Buy it here at Amazon.com!

Evil is Starving for Your Parts! “Model Hunger” review!

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Former pin-up model Virginia “Ginny” Smith lives a solitary life on the street of a quiet Buffalo, New York suburban neighborhood. Her modeling past was prosperous, posing erotically with curves similar to that of pin-up queen Bettie Page, up until a newer, thinner model named Chloe undermines Ginny’s magazine spread career. Feeling abandoned, physically tortured, and seeking revenge throughout the years, Ginny eats up the competition from thin, to the fake, and to the virginal…literally! Sal and his mentally instable wife Debbie move in next door to Ginny. Soon after, Debbie suspects that her elder neighbor might be up to no good as people go into Ginny’s house but never come out. Chalking up her suspicions to psychosis, Sal ignores Debbie’s accusations until he mysteriously perishes in a car accident. Now nothing can stop Debbie from investigating into Ginny’s cold blooded habits.
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“Model Hunger” is the long awaited directorial debut from long time scream queen and B-movie horror icon Debbie Rochon that publicly displays the dementedness clinging to the inner walls of her brain. Helming from off the screenplay penned by “Seed 2” producer James Morgart, Rochon quickly denotes the position of anti-supermodel figure, turning the thin, the snooty, and those who encourage that sort of behavior into nothing more than a gloppy stew of human chow. “Model Hunger” parodies the serious nature of young women whom go to extreme lengths of imitating the model beauties of today, but the film isn’t a clear-cut horror-comedy per say; instead, the genre of a bizarre cannibalism life style or social commentary revenge film might better suite the self-centering tone.
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The premise most definitely classifies as a film Debbie Rochon would personally headline; Rochon personalized “Model Hunger” to her taste, but this time, Rochon’s sister-in-horror, Lynn Lowry (George A. Romero’s “The Crazies”) headlines as the vengeful, cannibalistic Ginny Smith. Lowry puts the hot in psychotic with a Southern Belle twist, delivering a memorable performance as a cougar-gone-cannibal and her character scores much of the Morgart screenplay dialogue that is overwhelmingly philosophical and ranting compared to a more downplayed principal character in the film’s third horror star – the veteran Tiffany Shepis. Shepis is Debbie next door and though that sounds like a title of a boorish 70’s porn, Debbie struggles with being burned out from a psychosis state that results in plagues of nightmares and prescribed pills. Aside from maybe the pill popping, nothing about Debbie’s persona brings to mind a porn starlet.
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Contrary to a pair prominent female actresses who bring talent and experience from cult films such as “Tromeo and Juliet” and “Shivers” and a highlight of co-stars including the wonderful Michael Thurber (“The Sins of Dracula”), Brian Fortune (“Game of Thrones”), Carmine Capobianco (Psychos in Love) and “Chainsaw Sally’s” Suzi Lorraine casted ironically as a voluptuously large television host of “Suzi’s Secret,” the James Morgart script just couldn’t pull all the talent together. Points of unfocused storytelling noticeably stemmed from the first few scenes involving uncouth and dolled up cheerleaders practicing their routine, receiving their fundraiser packet, and going door-to-door soliciting. These segments run a natural course of supposedly setting up Lisa Dee (cheerleader Missy in the film) and Samantha Hoy (cheerleader Katie in the film) as the film’s leads. The squad practice could have been completely omitted and the story would have worked just the same without bamboozling the main players Lowry and Shepis. The script drags to a slow drift during the second act by not proceeding with much character progression other than Ginny slaughtering snared victim-after-victim to fill her icebox of superficial-inspired characters.
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Honestly, the expectation of graphic violence had a sky high bar set upon the shoulders of Debbie Rochon’s inaugural film, but the special effects violence was unusually tame to a point, containing nothing too new and too extreme until near the finale that involves a naked Jehovah Witness and a medical grade scalpel. Aside from the lack of gross gratuity, the effects were borderline choppy; a prime example to consider would be the obvious rubber baseball bat, wielded by Ginny, that sprung forward and backward, like something out Looney Toon’s ACME company, when striking against an object, but “Model Hunger” was riddled, subtly throughout, with equipment flaws such as equipment shadows in scenes and a continuously shaky camera.
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Wild Eye Releasing’s unrated DVD is presented in a widescreen format with a Dolby Digital 2.0 audio mix. Aside from some awkward framing and a bitrate issue that causes a bit of blotchiness, the digital camera video looks good for the most part with an audio mix from “Friday the 13th” composer Harry Manfredini that’s well balanced. The director commentary, in the bonus features, is a highlight of the extras with Debbie Rochon letting you into her creative side of her film. The commentary is accompanied with deleted scenes, music video, an interview with Aurelio Voltaire, a Babette Bombshell short, trailers, and an Easter Egg! Overall, the underlining point is clear of reverse body-shaming in a very Hatfield versus McCoy scenario and Debbie Rochon, for her cherry-popping film, creates a solid horror entry that displays it’s quality scars and hiccups which the film, nor Rochon, apologizes for and that’s a filmmaker, and actress, I can get behind.

Buy Debbie Rochon’s first film “Model Hunger” at Amazon.com!