Demons 2

You know, some days I have to try and find serious, thoughtful comments to make about films. Other days, I get to reviews films like Zombie 3 and this little gem from the collective mind of Lamberto Bava and Dario Argento. Lamberto, of course, is the son of Italian horror legend Mario Bava.


Bay of Blood

I’m going to have to cram a bunch of history up front in this review, so if you already know most of it, please forgive me. I feel it sets the stage properly for those among you who aren’t nerdy enough to have a vast and swelling knowledge of the ins and outs of British…


Santo and Blue Demon vs. The Monsters

I love Santo y Blue Demon contra los Monstruos. And, judging by the way it struggles so mightily to give me so many of those things that make me the happiest — like cheesy monsters, masked wrestlers, low budget gore, and lots of incoherent but frenetic fight scenes — I have to conclude that it loves me, too.


Troll Hunter

I cannot count “point of view” films among the styles of film making for which I possess much tolerance. Aside from rarely being the least bit convincing as “found footage,” relying as they do on the conceit that assorted people would continue to film an incident long after the extreme danger factor would move just…


Accidental Spy

The slower Jackie Chan gets in his old age, the more he has to figure out what the hell it means for him to still be making movies. He’s given everything for his art, everything to his fans. He’s broken down, beat up, and will be lucky if he can remember his own name or…


Grand Central Centennial

As we mentioned in the article about the secret train platform beneath Grand Central Terminal, the venerable New York City landmark turned one hundred this month. The anniversary is being marked by a number of events, sales, displays, and tours that unfortunately were already sold out by the time I learned about them. Still, not…


Iron Claw the Pirate

For myself, I would like to believe that watching Iron Claw the Pirate enriched my life in some imperceptible–if perhaps stupid–way, even though it really just represents another ninety minutes of my life spent watching grown men in masks punching and shooting one another.