Galloping Cadavers

Blu Review: CITY OF THE LIVING DEAD (PAURA NELLA CITTÀ DEI MORTI VIVENTI)
18 – 93mins – 1980
Written by: Lucio Fulci and Dardano Sacchetti
Directed by: Lucio Fulci
Starring: Christopher George, Catriona MacColl, Carlo De Mejo, Antonella Interlenghi, Giovanni Lombardo Radice, Fabrizio Jovine
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I didn't rush into transcribing my initial reaction after watching this bizarre – and understandably controversial – 1980 zombie flick on Monday night; I had to mull over my thoughts, suppress my rage and attempt to make some semblance of sense of cult Italian director Lucio Fulci's City of the Living Dead before writing my review. Of course I failed, because I've come to the conclusion that it is impossible to make sense out of a work so unconcerned with narrative cohesion that it may as well be a medley of ever-more shocking visual scares instead of even bothering to feign interest in a logical narrative structure.

The plot, for what it's worth, concerns the attempts of two concerned couples who – for reasons all their own – must travel to the remote village of Dunwich, New England to locate the tomb of a priest (Jovine) who hanged himself and thus, by committing such a grievous sin, opened the Gates of Hell (incidentally, that is an alternate title for this many-monikered monstrosity). Can the four clued-up citizens – among them journalist Peter Bell (George) and psychic Mary Woodhouse (MacColl) – close this portal to the underworld before All Saints Day, or will the undead rise to take over the earth?

Despite it's derivative title, please do not confuse this glory-stealing shambles – the first in a trilogy, no less – as a part of George A. Romero's infinitely superior "Living Dead" series. Whereas Romero used his zombies as a cleverly striking metaphor for his harsh social commentary, Fulci doesn't seem to have any clear idea of what the hell he is doing, instead throwing a plethora of grotesque set-pieces at the camera in the hope that everyone is too busy freaking out at the gore to notice nothing makes a jot of sense! Well, I did.

Okay, to be fair, as the film progresses and the two couples converge and formulate something vaguely resembling a plan, the disjointedly fragmented shards of narrative do start to fuse together somewhat, but by this point in the film I had lost all hope of logic and was simply watching in a gore-thirsty braindead state akin to the reanimated dead, who, I may have forgotten to mention, seem able to beam themselves in and out of thin air for no reason whatsoever – and you had a problem with zombies who could run?!

As well as teleporting zombies who seem more concerned with crushing skulls than eating them, Fulci also gets carried away with all manner of other illogical visualisations of the macabre: Mary dies – of fright – at a séance and awakens to find herself buried alive, a squatter with a fetish for self-inflating sex dolls (don't ask) finds the decomposing corpse of a baby then never mentions this again, a woman is forced to vomit up all her internal organs simply because she looked at the spirit of the dead priest, our protagonists find themselves in a storm of maggots, a wall is pierced with shards of glass and starts to bleed, a man's head is impaled on a rotating drill, and on more than one occasion women start to cry blood. Why? Heck knows, but Fulci does seem to have a tiresome obsession with eyes...

I'm sure gore-hounds will have a field day with this gleefully unrestrained freakshow (the censors certainly did), but as a film fan who appreciates a bit of meat on his cinematic bones, City of the Living Dead was an abominably shallow mess which has little to recommend it beyond an atmospheric score with funky guitar undertones. Much like Craven's sorrowful My Soul to Take, this cult “classic” feels like a lot of extremely visceral ideas were cobbled together and a “plot” worked around the carnage. And don't even get me started on the scream which heralds the end credits; as an attempt to insinuate the horror isn't over (despite it unquestionably being so) it fails spectacularly and just adds to the list of confusing illogicalities which plague this rotten drivel.


In a CR@B Shell: Sickeningly sadistic set-pieces and an atmospherically fog-shrouded ambience barely rescue Fulci's nonsensical Euro-trash from being an all-out disappointment, but don't go looking for any symbolic depth in this bizarre surrealist nightmare of a “narrative”. Avoid like the (un)dead.
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Pound Some Cunth

DVD Review: MACGRUBER
15 – 90mins – 2010
Written by: Will Forte, John Solomon, Jorma Taccone
Directed by: Jorma Taccone
Starring: Will Forte, Kristen Wiig, Ryan Phillippe, Val Kilmer, Powers Boothe, Maya Rudolph
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Imagine, if you dare, that Ace Ventura has called a day to his illustrious career as a critter cop and decided to become a mercenary special operative instead. And grow a mullet. Stranger things have happened (like Ace Ventura Jnr. for one… *shudder*). Alllllllllrighty then? Now you’ve got a pretty good idea of what to expect from MacGruber, and it sure ain’t Shakespeare.

Raucous lunacy would be an apposite phrase to use – but in a positive manner. Provided you’re prepared for an 80’s-spoofing action parody then you will have an absolute blast with this wise-cracking loose canon who has a rather distorted opinion of his own awesomeness and a penchant for repeating his favourite quips until they become catchphrases.

The single monikered one-man-army – the brainchild of former Saturday Night Live-er Will Forte, who also embodies the character – is brought out of self-imposed exile (à la When Nature Calls) to stop a dangerous nuclear arms dealer (Val Kilmer) who just so happens to be the same Cunth (yep, that’s really his name: Dieter Von Cunth) who blew up MacGruber’s wife-to-be (Maya Rudolph) on their wedding day.

Admittedly, not every gag hits the spot, but there are so many thrown at the screen that some were bound to fly by unnoticed. However, those that do work will seriously have you howling. Personal favourites of this CR@B include: the fate of MacGruber’s self-selected elite team of experts; his insistence on role-reversal dress-up; and his obsessive personally which sees him carry his treasured tape-playing car stereo everywhere and go bat-shit crazy at a motorist who innocently cuts him up.

Basically, MacGruber is one hell of a personality, and the film would have been an absolute disaster if Forte wasn’t so attuned to his unorthodox… baloney. Like Jim Carrey’s iconic pet detective, he’s a law unto himself but he somehow gets results and the girl (Kristen Wiig). His creative use of celery sticks and spur-of-the-moment “plans” (“That isn’t a plan then!” blasts Phillippe’s by-the-book rookie) are either nonsense or utter genius. Either way, they’re hilarious.

My initial apprehension that a more universally familiar actor such as Owen Wilson (admit it, they do look alike) would have helped carry the film more effectively was instantly alleviated. You’ll either hate MacGruber, or you’ll love to hate MacGruber, but rest assured that if the title of this review was enough to raise a puerile grin, then chances are you’ll wolf down this generous serving of Mac and cheese.


In a CR@B Shell: He’s armed and dangerous, but you wouldn’t trust him with a weapon. Luckily, MacGruber is such a tool he’s an American hero, and the same can be said for this hysterical send-up which is so bad it’s bad ass.
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The Price of the Night

Blu Review: NEAR DARK
18 – 94mins – 1987
Written by: Eric Red and Kathryn Bigelow
Directed by: Kathryn Bigelow
Starring: Adrian Pasdar, Jenny Wright, Lance Hendriksen, Bill Paxton, Jenette Goldstein, Joshua Miller, Tim Thomerson, Marcie Leeds
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No disfigured foreheads, no beady feral eyes, no skin-piercing fangs, and – of note – not a single mention of the term “vampire”, but the ragtag gang of ageless outlaws at the centre of this scandalously underrated 80's horror-western are bloodsucking, neck-biting creatures of the night in all but name.

Released in the shadow of the more financially successful fellow cult vamp flick, The Lost Boys (1987), Near Dark tells the story of cowboy Caleb (Adrian Pasdar), who one lazy summer night becomes infatuated with the enchantingly mysterious out-of-towner Mae (Jenny Wright), who leaves him before daylight with one helluva hickey and a steadily-worsening sickness. Before he can stumble home, Caleb is kidnapped by Mae's drifter 'family' – comprising father-figure Jesse (Lance Hendriksen), his woman Diamondback (Jenette Goldstein), cruel bastard Severen (Bill Paxton) and aged 'kid' Homer* (Joshua Miller) – who bungle him into their camper van and reluctantly teach him how to survive in his reborn state. Meanwhile, Caleb's father, Loy (Tim Thomerson), and sister, Sarah (Marcie Leeds), set off across Texas to track down their missing kin – but which family will Caleb stay loyal to?

Two decades before she became the first female to win the “Best Director” Oscar for The Hurt Locker (2008), Near Dark was a very early gig for co-writer and director Kathryn Bigelow, but this is not to say it is a lesser work of an off-peak auteur. The film's simple, linear story is enriched with lush, reflective visuals and a brooding atmosphere. It's a first class product which delivers from the allusive opening mosquito bite to the taut and explosive final twilight showdown. Ye-haw!

When violence and gore are used, they are used brutally and they shock: skin chars, spurs slit and knives enter mouths. The set piece in which the beastly pack gatecrash a backwater bar is an unnerving and, frankly, uncomfortable watch as the unwelcome guests terrorise the petrified clientèle for sheer kicks. Their detachment to the savagery they inflict is chilling; Jesse smirks bemusedly while Homer sings along to the Jukebox! Fundamentally, they are bored, and I believe this intrinsic attitude is what gives the film its slow-burn pace: these immortals are in no rush because they have forever to play the fool and drink deep from the neck of life's hedonistic sins. Provided it's after dark.


CR@B Verdict: Lean on story but dripping with atmosphere, Near Dark is a savage, slow-burn vampire horror with an injection of romance - but Twilight this most certainly ain't. Gritty, terrifying and nightmarish; a deserved cult classic.
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* Homer's obsession with “owning” Caleb's little sister in the final third of the film is questionable and disturbing: Homer is an old man trapped in the youthful body he died in.