Gene Gregorits – Dog Days Volume One

If you only buy one book about a dog killing, self mutilating, drunken, drug fucked failed writer this year make it Dog Days. 

 It would be easy to say that Gene Gregorits is knocking of Charles Bukowski and sure Dog Days does have hints of Bukowski’s novels (wanna be writer, drunk, sexual antics) but whereas Buk was a working class bum, a man who was comfortable in the environment of shitty dives and bars, factories and hookers, you get the feeling Gregorits is never really comfortable, he uses them as an escape, a place to hide but he’s not one of them, he’s a man with aspirations, with a sense of being better, even if his aspirations for the most part seem to be to just get fucked up and to escape from the world around him.  At times brutal and confronting (hell any book that starts with a rape scene isn’t going to be light reading!) the reality is that this is a love story, just not your conventional one.  Sure there’s a girl (or two) involved but really his love was his cat Hank and this is the story of a man struggling to come to terms with the loss of that love. It’s that underlying storyline, that sensitivity, the stuff Gregorits tries and fails to hide that makes the difference, dragging this ‘anti-memoir’ up from the gutter and into the fresh air, that makes you want to read more to see if this drunken, self loathing, self centred prick can redeem himself because if he can, then maybe we have a chance too.  

Drive In Movie

RATTLERS

D: John McCauley 1976

This baby is in a ten dvd set I picked up for $4 called Drive – In Dusk ‘til Dawn that I gather is actually part of a bigger set put out by some one called Millcreek Entertainment (well, their damn watermark/logo kept showing up during the flick anyway) There’s a real early 70s tv film feel to this flick and it aint helped by the direct to dvd transfer of a really crap copy complete with crackles, pops and frames slipping. The movie kicks off with a coupla all American Disney kids out in the desert playing, blonde hair shinin’ in the afternoon sun, jiving each other and looking for bones when they stumble into a snake pit and get their asses killed. Cue Title and then we jump to our dorky hero, Dr Tom Parkinson, (Sam Crews) snake expert and all round cheesy dork but with immaculate hair and a nice safari suit. He gets called in by the local sheriff to help out with their investigation. And when a whole family including the pets gets attacked well, then Dr Tom gets an assistant to help him, a photogapher sidekick who just happens to be a feisty chick with a feminist bent. Another snake attack on a plumber (with the snake sneaking up his leg – lemme tell you I flinched) then gives us the snakes in the bathtub… so that’s where Wes Craven got the idea. He did it better too or at least he had a hotter babe in the bath not a nagging divorcee who only shows her back. Anyway, as the investigation continues, we find out the army is involved. Seems they dumped some chemicals down a mineshaft and Dr Tom needs to find that mine. Of course the colonel wont tell him where cos the colonel is completely nuts. Luckily the drunk army doctor with the bad toupee helps out with some info and soon the doc and the girl are wandering around a mineshaft with a torch looking for snakes, dangerous snakes, dangerous killer snakes… duh! Of course they stumble on em too (well, one at least I think, it was pretty shitty filming/editing at that stage) and they have to run back out in a truly pisspoor segment of bad filming, bad overdubbing, just bad everything. After that of course Dr Tom mentions that he’ll have to go to Vegas to find out where the mine is. Oh yeah of course. And so this girl who gave us a huge rant at the start of the movie about women’s rights and the workforce and all this guff goes all weak at the knees because he mentions Vegas? Cue, two minutes of holding hands, kissing, and dancing together in Vegas (or at least some fountain and a woodgrain lounge somewhere) then its back to the desert to be attacked in their tents by rabid rattlers. But then an army guy shows up out of nowhere, blows them all away and drives away again. Doesn’t even stay to check if Doc and the babe are okay. Turns out the mad colonel dumped some nerve gas down the shaft that is sending the snakes whacko and seemingly giving them the intelligence to group together and climb up pipes and into houses and all the other shit they’re getting up to. Mad colonel kills drunk doctor, goes out to the mine shaft and blows it (and hisself) up after firin’ a few shots at Dr Tom and the sheriff and then the snakes are sealed in the shaft, the doc gets the girl and we can all go home after we hang the speaker back on the rack, rearrange our clothes and drop the empty beer bottles in the bin.

Is it an eco disaster flick or just a disaster?

Well it sure as shit aint no Kingdom Of The Spiders or Frogs or even Piranha (which by the by is in the box too) but it was just so corny that I had to watch it. I’m a sucker for punishment. And hey the snakes were real, I’ll give them that and that certainly added an edge to it cos those fuckers bite!

With face rippin', heart chewin' sons of bitches out there, surely the apocalypse is comin!!

BIGFOOT IS OUT THERE!

Bigfoot Directed by: Robert F. Slatzer Year: 1970 Country: USA Studio: Cheezy Flicks

From Cheezy Flicks, home to the best of the worst comes another classic slice of American exploitation and know how, with a bombshell blonde, a ham actor and a man in a cheap furry suit! Bigfoot warms up with a travelling saleman, Jasper B. Hawks (John Carradine hamming at his best), his offside Elmer Briggs (John Mitchum) who discovers some big footprints out in the woods, a gang of hepcat bike riders on a weekend bender and a pneumatic blonde pilot (Joi Lansing) who parachutes into the woods only to be captured by something hairy, all this before the opening credits even roll! When a couple of the biker types then go necking in the woods they stumble upon a bigfoot burial ground and the gal is grabbed by another hairy thing. When ol’ Jasper hears about the kidnapping he sees dollar signs and offers to help the boy get his girl back from the monsterous beast. Well, the bloke in the furry suit with the rubber mask and the bloodshot eyes. The girls it turns out are tied up to posts and guarded by a family of bigfoot or is that bigfeet? (including a baby bigfoot! ) Meanwhile after the pneumatic and gravity defying Joi tells the biker girl her theory, that the bigfoot tribe is running low and they want girls to mate with, we get lots of footage of Jasper and Co. walking through the woods, the hep biker buddies riding through the woods, trees, the bigfeet watching Jasper and Co. walking through the woods before finally the bigfeet attack Jasper and his buddies and tie them up too. Help is at hand though, the hepcat bikers have discovered the burial ground too (and the rubber mask in the dirt that strikes horror into everyone’s heart!) and are hot on the trail. You have to wonder though how the city slickers keep finding this burial ground but no local has ever stumbled upon it?! After flirting with the gal at the general store the sheriff is off hunting or sleeping or something, the ranger station (one of a string of static sets on a soundstage including sherrif’s office, general store and injun hut!) ain’t got nothing to report even though the bigfoot is at the window and we are stuck with stock footage of owls and coyotes! Never fear though, the biker dudes have hooked up with a one armed injun named Hardrock who wants revenge on that nine foot sasquatch that pulled his arm off and so now we have them trekking and riding and a looking for the hairy bloke in the suit. Meanwhile blondie Joi has been taken away to be sacrificed ala Ursula Andress in Slave Of The Cannibal God, (well she’s blond and buxom and tied up the same way) to the big kahuna himself, the real BIG bigfoot who we are told is nine foot tall but really is just a bloke in a hairy gorilla suit. A grizzly bear shows up though to spoil the honeymoon so while bigfoot and grizzly (or two guys in hairy suits) wrestle, Joi makes a getaway. Cue footage of blonde running endlessly, still defying gravity and nipple tape, with bigfoot striding behind! The bikers meanwhile find the others and save ‘em before heading up the mountain to find blondie and the big bigfoot. Blondie has been caught again and then escapes again, running away again this time to be saved by our erstwhile heroes. Some paper mache rocks fall, the crazy biker dude (there’s always one crazy dude in the gang) throws dynamite, big bigfoot dies in the cave, Jasper hustles blondie (whose hair by the way has stayed immaculate despite jumping from a plane, being kidnapped by a bigfoot, being ravaged by a bigfoot, being chased by a bigfoot and being in a bomb blast!) and that’s that. Or is it? Well, yeah I think it is actually. But then I guess ol’ Robert F. Slatzer is trying to tell us that maybe they’re still out there… after all the other bigfeet didn’t die in the blast and the baby is still out there in the wilderness, waiting to “breed with anything.” This is a shocker, slow, dumb, badly filmed, washed out and washed up but you know what? I loved it!!

It’s cornball, it’s stupid, the bigfoot ain’t anywhere near nine feet tall no matter how many times they tell us it is, the difference between soundstage and outdoors is so obvious you laugh, the lines are corny, the acting for the most is bad, except of course for Carradine and Mitchum who bring a touch of class to proceedings, Joi Lansing was in her forties by then but still looked pretty damn good for a low budget bombshell and hell, the movie is called Bigfoot, you ain’t gonna get Shakespeare are you? For fans of “those” movies, this is a new favourite. A perfect companion to Queen Kong in fact… now that’s a double act I’m sure a hustler like Jasper B. Hawks could appreciate. Special Features: A string of trailers for other fine Cheezy fare including Invasion Of The Blood Farmers, Bloodsucking Nazi Zombies and Face Of The Screaming Werewolf plus the intermission ads from the good old days of the drive-in that always bring a nostalgic tear to my eye.

UFO – The Best Of A Decade (SPV)

They might look fucking old but considering this band started in 1969 and you’ve got three, yes three of the original members still rolling it’s no wonder they look a little, shall we say, weathered. Surprisingly though, this compilation of studio and live tracks shows that the old bastards can still get it up!

With Phil Mogg still sounding great on vocals and Pete ‘wayward’ Way (Bass) and Andy Parker (Drums) still holding down the beat, guitarist Vinnie Moore steps up as the ‘new’ boy filling a role best remembered as belonging to Michael Schenker and doing a pretty good job of it too. In the late 70s when UFO released arguably one of the best live rock albums out there Strangers In The Night I was a serious fanatic but by the mid 80s the various line up shuffles had dimmed my love for the band so I really wasn’t expecting too much with this album. So it was a mighty fine surprise when opening track The Wild One still sounded like the band I remember, Mogg’s distinctive voice could belong to no one else, the sound unmistakably UFO, rollicking bluesy metal with a chorus that slips right into your psyche. This is followed by the equally fine Hard Being Me before the live version of Lights Out slows down the mood. I have to say it lacked the fierceness of earlier times but then so do I so what do I really expect? Still, I don’t see the need for yet another version of this song or Let It Roll or Shoot Shoot or Too Hot To Handle – we have those songs nailed damn near perfectly a coupla decades back why rehash? I can understand why they still play them live sure but I don’t think they need to be on this compilation, especially when the band serves up songs like Saving Me, The Wild One, Helldriver, Black And Blue (with its Who like riff ripped off to start the song) and Mr. Freeze. They still have some mighty fine moves going on, they can still write songs with more hooks than an emo kid has piercings and the live tracks really don’t add anything to the legacy or the future. I would have preferred to hear more of the newer songs, more of what they have to offer now than what they had to offer thirty years ago. But I’m nitpicking, it’s rare that a band of this vintage can still live up to its past, to its baggage. I won’t say they have because it would be damn near impossible to top Light’s Out or No Heavy Pettin’ but they haven’t disgraced themselves either and I’d put any of these songs up against their 80s material. This sits nicely alongside the better moments of No Place To Run or Making Contact or anything from the wilderness years. There’s plenty of life left in these old dogs that’s for sure, even though Pete Way’s liver apparently isn’t what it used to be. Let’s hope he and they can keep on rolling a few more years.