You know you are in trouble when the most convincing performance in your film is by Isaac from The Love Boat. Despite the skin and swears, this is a made-for-TV quality blaxploitation film. It is uncommonly low on action, and the acting and dialogue is painful. Even Eartha Kitt disappoints.
Oh my. Most of my buddies on Facebook lean leftwards and I am anticipating an explosion of liberal rage come Tuesday evening. They can't seem to shut up talking about Christine O'Donnell, or whoever the right-wing boogeyman of the moment happens to be, while completely ignoring the main gripe of over-reaching government that is going to swing this election. I will try to document the "gosh, Americans are stupid" and "Somehow this is still Bush's fault" nonsense and publish it here.
My Halloween movie fest continued last night with a re-watching of Mother of Tears, the third film in the Three Mothers trilogy. When I first watched the film I pondered if it would get better on rewatching. Nope. It was actually more painful on the second viewing. What a rambling mess of a film with awful acting and dialogue all around. No screengrabs for this film. It doesn't deserve that level of respect.
My Halloween movie fun-run continues with Mario Bava's Kill Baby, Kill. Not really his finest work, but it is memorable for the scenes of the ghostly child at the windows:
The first full-length record from Martin Atkins all-star review. Very drum centric as one would expect—on many of the tracks it seems like drums and vocals are about all they could muster. This band is, almost by definition, self-indulgent and quality is a bit of a crap shoot. Sometimes they are great, often times they are an audio endurance test.
Another old sci-fi novel by Heinlein that cares more about the concept than the story. Even at 120 some pages, it still felt too long. I guess fans of "hard" science fiction may apprieciate the constant hammering of the main concept of a spaceship as the known universe to its inhabitants, but it gets old fast.
After years of releasing full-length surf records sprinkled with a few jokes and some schtick, The Phantom Surfers finally made a joke album sprinkled with a little surf music! The disc is filled with skits and guest appearanes by various filth luminaries like Rudy Ray Moore, Blowfly and post-Raw Neil Hamburger. The premise here is to be as dirty as possible and, to this end, the band succeeds wonderfully on tracks like "The Golden Turd" and "The Phantom Surfer's Alphabet." All records, CDs and daytime dramas should strive to be the XXX Party.
This is a surprisingly straightforward Phantom Surfers record. The premise behind this record is that it is with Dick Dale. That is half true. They include two actual 50s pre-surf music Dick Dale songs: "We'll Never Hear the End of It" and "Fairest of Them All." Both of these are pretty terrible and Dick Dale was none-to-pleased with their inclusion.
Dead Space Extraction is yet another "on-rails" Wii shooter game. The Wii, with its pointer controls, is the perfect platform for these kinds of games.