by Mark Brown

Despite a slew of remakes in recent  years, a lavish remake of Universal Pictures’ The Wolf Man (1941) was still an interesting prospect as it featured an impressive cast, including Benicio del Toro and Anthony Hopkins, and special makeup effects by Rick Baker. However, shortly into production, director Mark Romanek (One Hour Photo (2002); the music videos for Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer” and “The Perfect Drug”; the music video for Johnny Cash’s cover of the Nine Inch Nails song “Hurt”) was let go due to “Creative Differences,” with the more experienced though less inspiring Joe Johnston (The Rocketeer, Jumanji, Jurassic Park III) taking the helm. Despite a budget of $85 million the production ran into further difficulties. Reshoots and computer graphics sequences were added after a lacklustre response from test audiences, leaving genre fans wondering quite what would be released… and when?

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by Mark Brown

There have been many volumes that have dealt with the history of Hammer films and their illustrious male stars, but until now none have truly done justice to the bevy of voluptuous scream queens who were an essential ingredient in the recipe that made their films so great. At last this lovely tome puts matters to rights and gives these gorgeous women their due through a panoply of previously unseen archive photographs and candid biographies.

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by Michael Mitchell

The Turn of the Screw

by Benjamin Britten

Based on the Henry James novella

Like most discerning fans of the macabre out there, if you’re a well-versed one, you’ve most likely come across Henry James’s seminal novella “The Turn of the Screw.” You may have also come across the Barbara Kerr movie adaptation called “The Innocents,” and also possibly perchance maybe crossed paths with the stageplay, written by William Archibald (who also wrote the screenplay), that preceded the movie. Hey, you may have even seen the 1990ish BBC television adaptation starring Colin Firth. But what you may not have come across in your darkest of dark travels is an opera adaptation of James’s twisted tale of maligned youth written by Benjamin Britten.

Yes, you read that right. I am talking about an opera. Read all »

AM 1690 CJLO (www.cjlo.com) and Nightmarevue (www.nightmarevue.com) are proud to present the third and final episode of this year’s FanTasia Film Festival special with your host Jo Satana!

 

 Standard Podcast [59:58m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

AM 1690 CJLO (www.cjlo.com) and Nightmarevue (www.nightmarevue.com) are proud to present episode two of this year’s FanTasia Film Festival special with your host Jo Satana!

 

 CJLO-Nightmare Revue - Fantasia Episode 2 [64:23m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

By JO SATANA

Tired, weary, weak and wounded: it’s week two of the FanTasia film festival and I’m feeling damn fine. While the previous enumeration of adjectives are normally used to describe someone claiming refugee status, I can’t say that my current plight is that different and you can easily see why:

Week Two of the fest brought us such genre entries as The Horseman, Smash Cut and Combat Shock! All within a 24 hour period!

Everything kicked off on Saturday evening with a screening of Australia’s The Horseman (Steven Kastrissios). Proceded by a cheezeball vampire short called The Long Night (Long Night indeed, aside from some cute acting, there really was no reason to program this, I….didn’t get it?), The Horseman is a stripped-bare “poor man’s” rape revenge flick that follows a father’s quest to get back at those who lead his daughter to a life of drugs and pornography (from a father’s perspective, that not being mine, I can’t decide which one would be worse). Angel Eyes having kicked the bucket after an H overdose, the father is mysteriously sent a copy of Street Sluts 2, where his daughter is featured prominently, in an obvious state of non-sobriety. A fiery mess of violence ensues. Never piss off an Aussie is good advice, never piss off an Aussie by giving his daughter bad H and raping her on film, golden advice. Broken Bones outback style. Recommended.

Now, staying on the theme of pornography, Saturday night ended with a midnight screening of Lee Demarbre’s Smash Cut. Hordes (actually, the showing was surprisingly less crowded than what I expected) of hormonal horror fans gathered with hopes of seeing porn star Sasha Grey in the flesh (confusing I know, cause we’ve all seen her flesh) as she was in town to present the world premiere. A timid, rather shy Grey was not the reason I was in attendance however…… Mr. David “I can’t believe I didn’t rape anyone on film for Smash Cut” Hess was in the crowd as well and frankly, made the night for me. A true 42nd street champ in my book.

Smash Cut is, as it was repeated and alluded to several times both during and after the screening, a loving tribute to H.G. Lewis’ lude, crude and shrewd ‘tewd style of goretastic filmaking (ie: nothing is too shocking in the pursuit of money). A terrible movie under all other accounts, Smash Cut is a charming, fun, stylish homage to the over the top gory theatrics of Lewis and the likes. Notable are the performances of Hess and Grey, who despite the lack of nudity, gave the whole experience that grimy, 70’s porno feel. Also noteworthy is an amazing eye gouging scene that oozes fanboy love and impracticality. Great fun, but I couldn’t help but point out the irony in the fact that Sasha Grey keeps her clothes on, and David Hess does not rape anyone (in the flick or in real life).

The screening was followed by a long winded Q&A that yet again makes Demarbre the fanboy that everyone loves to love. Sasha Grey was surprizingly quiet and played off of David Hess’s enthusiasm. As the basic lot of questions were being asked, I couldn’t help but think of what a strange night it’s been overall and this was one after-party that I really wish I got the invite for (btw, why the hell didn’t I get any invites for ANY of the after parties? What’s the deal guys, geez!) Hess, Grey and Lewis: Smash Cut is a no brainer for the midnight enthusiast. Avoid direct contact with soap for this one.

Now, FanTasia has turned into a much different beast than what it once was. I initially got turned on to the fest back in the days when it was more common for the programmers to line up long-forgotten shocking classics that haven’t seen a projector since the discovery of latex. As the festival started programming more and more premieres, we started to see less and less of our beloved genre oddities and cult favorites. That’s not saying that they entirely disappeared though, as on Sunday July 19th, Buddy G’s personal print of American Nightmare’s Combat Shock found it’s way to infiltrate the retina’s of every mud-fucking montreal grime-meister that managed to crawl its way outta the sewer (C.H.U.D.!!!!!) to attend this rare screening of such a curio piece. Devastating? Well, maybe not anymore. This was Buddy’s personal cut of the film, which apparently differs substantially from the cut that Troma distributed, but nonetheless I can’t help but think that maybe the ticket I purchased to the hype train was for a trip that I could have walked myself, you dig? But these are nonetheless the screenings I live for: small, sweaty theater surrounded by a helter skelter cast of characters, all staring at a 16mm print of a much hyped flick that rarely gets seen or spoken of outside circles like these. These screenings are really few and far between, and I soak up every moment of it. Combat Shock is a slow burning explosive work that can never really find it’s audience through conventional marketing. Dark, funny, brutal, sincere and all around destructive, someone either hands you a copy (it will be re-released at the end of the month by Troma on DVD, with a new cut of the film) or invites you to a screening like the one I witnessed. True FanTasia form, this film made the festival for me. A definite buzz film if there was one. Glad for those who were able to make the pilgrimmage to see it.

That’s it kiddies, with 8 days left and at least a dozen more movies to see, I’ll kindly point you to the exit of this mind-fucking steam roller. At least you have the option to leave. Myself, I’m kind of stuck here fore a while…..

So long sunshine, I’m out!

Jo Satana

AM 1690 CJLO (www.cjlo.com) and Nightmarevue (www.nightmarevue.com) are proud to present episode one of this year’s FanTasia Film Festival special!

 

 CJLO-Nightmarevue Fantasia Special Episode 01 [57:55m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

by JO SATANA

It’s a quiet, cloudy afternoon. I’m sitting in front of the slave machine with bloodshot eyes, a pounding headache and the shakes. While one might state that this isn’t any different than my normal composure, there is one difference: I have a smile on my face. Why? Cause FanTasia, North America’s premiere genre film festival, has rolled into the fair sinking city of Montreal for its 13th edition. And if opening weekend was any indication, this is once again going to bring me close to the edge.

Having sat through Must Love Murder, Thirst, Lesbian Vampire Killers, Dead Snow, Books of Blood and Grace, I can confirm to you all that Horror has been well represented so far but I still can’t shake that feeling of having missed something…

This is the existential problem with FanTasia: you are constantly haunted by the reality that, as you are enjoying something, you are inevitably missing something else that is screening at the same time. One can try to schedule their life with the hope of catching overlapping shows in adjacent theatres but, after going to the festival for 10+ years like myself, that type of strategy quickly becomes a futile attempt at rationalizing the irrational. You simply can’t be at two places at once and, sometimes, solace can be found through witnessing at least one life-changing mind-blowing eye-fuck. But still, humans being greedy, gluttonous fucks, I’m invariably unashamed with my need for more.

Now, as far as horror screenings went, things kicked off on Friday with Must Love Death, Thirst & Lesbian Vampire Killers being at the top of the bill. While I will reserve my official reviews for a later point, here’s my stream of consciousness style verbal diarrhea:

Must Love Death was a nice surprise given that no one had really heard of this movie before it was announced as part of the official line up. Written and directed by first time filmmaker Andreas Schaap, Must Love Death is a horrific (in a good way) romantic comedy that takes cues from every past “deranged hicks in a cabin” story, then seems as if it might be directed by John Hughes. Obviously influenced by Funny Games, it was as warm as black death could get: depressed musician/songwriter realizes that his will to end his life might not be as sincere as he originally made himself believe, while at the same time he finds himself struggling to find love under unlikely but honest circumstances. Violent, cheeky, exploitative, cute, and relevant are all adjectives that can be used to push Must Love Death; the term “sitting duck” also comes to mind. See it with a loved one, it’s American satire done Kraut style…and you’d never know it had it not been established that the film was shot entirely in Germany! How’s that for production value?

This was followed by Thirst, VENGEANCE Trilogy helmer Park Chan Wook’s new entry into his stream-of-consciousness filmmaking style. Thematically not that far apart from his old works as far as I’m concerned, Thirst is an old take on the newly popular re-conceptualization of the modern day vampire. With vampires popping up everywhere these days, Thirst is South-Korean art-house straight from the coffin, but without Andy Warhol. A priest is infected with the vampire virus as he receives a blood transfusion. Themes of sickness, betrayal and faith are peppered on top of a general narrative of what it means to be part of a family in modern South Korea (stretching that bullshit long time, baby!). With an excellent score and vibrant visuals, Thirst is the perfect international date movie for those who like their wine with more blood and less water. Cocktail dresses welcome.

Friday night was polished off with a midnight screening that had for thematic element films with descriptive titles: Lesbian Vampire Killers, before which was screened the amazingly relevant short The Horribly Slow Murderer With The Extremely Inefficient Weapon, which turned out to be the real highlight. It’s a satirically hysterical take on the American comedy style phenomenon of the long winded, repetitive joke. Picture a dude being chased by a spirit-like curse whose only motive is to beat him repeatedly with spoons over a long period of time. Absolutely gut busting, seek it out now. Oh yeah, Lesbian Vampire Killers was an adequate midnight type “Scooby-doo” style movie that took its cues from Shaun of the Dead and Night of the Demons. I don’t think I’m out of line when I say that the most disappointing element to this film was the lesbian vampires, but still, it was a good start to this year’s midnight movie circuit.

Saturday the 11th brought Sion Sono’s Love Exposure, a four hour epic screwball that I unfortunately only caught the last 1.5 hours of. I urge you all to check it if you get a chance, the 4 hours might seem like a little of a deterrent, but I was told that the payoff is worth the sore asscheeks. Dead Snow, another midnight screening, was the main attraction for me: Nazi Zombies out for treasure and revenge. The hype is warranted as this was one of the more memorable midnight screenings for me in a while: gory, pertinent, progressive, kinky and well-shot. Of particular interest was the score of the film, peppered with commercial Norwegian punk, metal and of course, Black Metal! It was nice to see a movie that played the North American stereotype without denaturing what makes this film Nordic in the first place. Herr Zombies, baby!

Oh man, Ooooooh man… Sunday brought us Grace! Produced by none other than newly-minted fanboy genre savior Adam Green, Grace is a feverish dream for those who are of the breeding type. “Grace, a story of a mother’s inability to see the flaws in her offspring?” Meh. How about, “Grace, a story about our inability to see anything redeeming in a blood sucking baby from the grave!” Bingo! Let me start from the beginning; Grace is to babies what Jaws is to sharks. Without giving too much away, a mother realizes that her daughter, born out of impossible circumstances, is not really developing as normal babies should and, as such, those connected to the events of Grace’s birth all struggle in their own way as the mother tries her very best to feed and take care of her child. Viewers are confronted with the choice of either accepting everything as a normal, rational response to a fucked up situation, or just a complete descent into utter madness. A well-layered, intense slow burner that will keep us all talking 9 months later. Well conceived indeed!

Finally, the last spurt for this entry is a little ditty called Book of Blood! Upon hearing the title, any fanboy worth their guts in offal immediately dreams up visions of an oily, buff Clive Barker typing away at his typewriter, finishing up his amazing anthology series, The Books of Blood. What we saw, however, was Book of Blood, a film adaptation of books 1 and 5 of the series, and if this was the first entry into what is supposed to be a line of adaptations of Clive’s work, I can safely saw that the man is right: maybe the Books of Blood are unadaptable to film. A disappointing, unengaging adaptation that plays off more as a TV serial than an actual film, which was openly admitted to as the film is not getting a North American theatrical release and is currently being re-cut for television. I mean, there are some redeeming qualities to Book of Blood: great gore, efficient suspense, and a compelling story. However, even if the subject matter is treated with respect, the inconsistent execution and overall kookiness of the movie makes you expect (and almost wish for) a commercial break.

And on that note, I’m taking a break as well…So long sunshine, I’m out!

Don’t forget to tune in to www.cjlo.com every Wednesday night from 11pm to midnight for the official live NightmaRevue coverage of the fest; it’s going to be nasty radio baby, guaranteed. Naturally, if you are in the Montreal area, you can catch the show on AM 1690. All shows will be archived right here on NightmaRevue.com!

Music Review: Isis/Pelican/Tombs - Montreal - June 6th, 2009

By Jo Satana

A long time no see and a swift kick back to the basics: straight up music review with a twist baby, I’m in a nostalgic mood.

Belated but hopefully appreciated, I’ve had the chance to witness the return of one of North America’s most influential noisemakers as far as the post-rock scene is concerned: Isis, in support of their newly released Wavering Radiant album.

June 6th at le National, a venue that has replaced many other audio speakeasys that used to haunt the trendy streets of uptown Montreal. Not really sure how I feel about the so nit gentrification that seems to be going on venue wise, but Le National has enough of that old world theatrical charm and natural acoustic vibe to attract competent promoters wanting to put on a massively ironic next world sound. That’s post rock for you.

So Tombs and Pelican opened this little ode to the wall of sound and if you happened to stay home, thinking that you’d appreciate a quiet night by yourself, little did you know that the vibrations you felt was not the arrhythmia caused by that shitty weed you’ve been smoking, it was the classic sonic steamroller, fucking up your mind.

But maybe you’re not keeping up with me: Tombs played a short and well received set, probably representing the most classical view of what people are used to hearing from a downtown metal show. Good people too from what I hear (I’m stalling here cause I completely missed their set).

Entering Le National at a little past nine, our awareness of the danger that lurked behind the speakers popped out it’s beautifully ugly head and just as soon Pelican finished their first sound check. Hopefully, some of you have had the chance to catch these guys on one of their headlining tours, ’cause I can assure you that none of their raw energy and attention grabbing bravado was missing from this amazing one hour set of intricate, delicate and loud axe madness. Even without a singer, Pelican painted a fantastic soundscape that really does not suffer from a lack of originality (which can be the case for these types of getups, their cover of post-rock gods EARTH was reason enough to show up early and soak up the atmosphere).

The real threat to this evening, however, was the tension that followed the end of Pelican’s set, up until Isis’s ballet of the stage.

Isis is essential oils oozing from the right place and at the right time, with enough balls to basically revisit what was already done with post-rock flavoring and turn it into a full blown edible apocalypse. Having seen them before and frankly, having my musical pallet forever changed since their first album, I decided to play it cool and not join in the hype race that preceded and followed the release of their newest album and their current tour.

Context break: ever since Where the Truth Likes (their previous release) surfaced, two camps formed. There are those who returned to their dark pits with their favorite Melvins and Neurosis albums, basically shunning the light that the Isis seemed to newly radiate, and there are those like me who were more accepting of the change of form the band was taking (albeit a inconsistently boring one). There were also the ever present rumors that the band was going to pack it up after the 2009 tour that made their new album that much more relevant.

While I’m not going to use this forum to review Wavering Radiant (but essentially, it’s not my most favorite thing in the world) I figured that I wasn’t going to hijack the June 6th show as a make it or break it love story with me. Never make up your minds kids and go with the flow, my own BS thrown back at me when I need to get out of a corner.

Isis took the stage, Isis killed, and Swan Song it may be. The mind-numbing, crushing set turned us all into puss-puking zombies. Without a doubt, something special and years ahead of an already poorly aging game. I was taken aback by how much I did not remember from my previous exposures to their low key, high impact madness. The set list covered their whole career in a (what seemed like) crescendo of tension and release that culminated in an amazingly orgasmic final piece that basically shames any of us for having questioned (haphazardly) their ability to ear fuck the planet, one city at a time.

I don’t know what the future holds for them and frankly I don’t really care. The future of post-rock-post-metal is one of death and rebirth as the genre seems to flicker in and out of audiophile memory (Neurosis), a cycle that mirrors that of the 80s, and the 90s. However, bands like Pelican seem well poised to take up some real estate pending the ultimate vacuum that would be left after implosion of Isis. But those of you who where sharing in what was witnessed at Le National, irrespective of the fact that there seemed to be an above normal concentration of hipsters, posers and allaround audio-geek jerkoffary going on that night, can sleep uneasily knowing that the haunting dreamscapes that were left after Isis quickly exited our field of cerebral vision will probably insert themselves in a final chapter and remain uneasily hungry for something that you know is too rare to be readily available anytime soon.

Good Night sleepy heads.

Joey-Jo-Jo Satana