Having recently discovered the joys of watching B movies while I work out, I’ve run through a fair number of them in the last few weeks. NovySan asked me last night if I was going to do something like Will and Annika’s 200 Westerns; I said I probably should, but I’m not at all sure I’m that organized. There’ve been a few highlights, though, that I’ll try to hit, at least briefly (Carnival of Souls, which might have been more interesting if A) I hadn’t already seen The Sixth Sense, and B) I hadn’t also read How to Survive a Horror Movie;The Lady from Shanghai, which didn’t need to be a B movie, but was; The Bad Seed, which isn’t really a B movie at all; the brilliantly creepy Spider Baby…)

But this post isn’t about any of those films. This post is about the Blood Island Trilogy, and I probably should have saved it until I’ve watched the third film, but they’re just too brilliant not to share.

Shot on shoestring budgets in the Phillipines, these are classic Man in a Rubber Suit Monster Movies with more blood and boobs than comparable Hollywood films could have slipped past the censors, even on a platter of entrails. There are man-eating plants (and a beautiful woman who screams and writhes under a puppet tentacle in a way that should have earned her an Oscar for screaming and writhing under a puppet tentacle); there’s the truly horrifying premise of Brides of Blood, that a native god called “The Evil One” is satisfying his lust on the women of the island, and tearing them to pieces in the process; there are atomic mutations that come and go, and somehow affect the island air; there’s a man poisoned by chlorophyll – the doctor’s instructions? “When he comes to, just give him some hot soup – and no green vegetables, of course.” There’s a young woman who “became a whore for love.” (Isn’t that something you wish you’d done yourself?) Oh, and there’s a very scary butterfly cut-out on a string, and a lot of orgiastic dancing. Because we all know how those exotic island women love to dance.

If you’d like a more coherent review, David Zuzelo’s done great write-ups on all three films here (with screenshots!), but if you’ve got an Internet connection and a few hours to kill… Just go wallow in Blood.

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

I told NovySan, “I’m going to work out and watch bad sci-fi.”

And I did. And oh, man, was it good.

This movie’s got everything. A heroic football player who’s attacked by a giant rooster. Ida Lupino as a meek (and in some scenes, apparently brain-damaged) farm wife. Flesh-eating larvae. Cultural commentary, in the form of a plucky female bacteriologist (though why, exactly, a bacteriologist is needed to evaluate a possible source of animal feed is never fully explained) and a pregnant hippie chick who’s refusing to marry the father of her baby (and who, remarkably, doesn’t die for it!). It’s also got great special effects (okay, the giant wasps, not so much – but the optical and miniature work on the flood is excellent), surprisingly high production values, and much better acting than you might expect.

That’s not to say it’s immune to the hallmarks of B-grade filmmaking – breathtakingly bad decisions (“No, leave the closed car here; we’ll take this open Jeep and explore the island”); failure to notice the most obvious clues (“I wonder what happened to Mr. Skinner?” You mean you didn’t notice the blood-soaked Volkswagen on your way to the farm?); animal cruelty as a shortcut to realism (there’s at least one obviously dead, drowned rat in a shot near the end; one of the commenters on Fancast noted that the scenes of giant rats being shot are, in fact, scenes of real rats being shot, presumably with BB guns); and one of the clumsiest set-ups for a sequel I’ve ever seen. I also had several opportunities to reflect, while I rowed and later worked my legs and abs, that allowing the hero character to do the voiceover dilutes the drama, because obviously the person doing the voiceover isn’t going to die. (Unless, of course, he’s dead already, or you suspect the director of being clever and/or cruel enough to defy your expectations and let the voiceover character die, taking his voice with him. See American Beauty for the former, Australia for the latter (but in the case of Australia, keep in mind that I’m a sucker for an epic, and probably more than usually susceptible as a result).)

And now, given my Santa Monica food adventure earlier today, I’m going to hit the NordicTrack and work my upper body. I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to watch while I do it.*

*Update: Yes, I have. I’m going to watch The Oblong Box, because I’m in love with Vincent Price, and with Edgar Allan Poe, and with Christopher Lee, and it’s got an awesome title, too.**

**Update to the Update: Unfortunately, the Fancast video was just too glitchy – I argued with it for awhile, then gave up and loaded up a Pandora station. This morning, though, I discovered that the movie is also available as an instant download on Netflix – in a double-feature with Scream and Scream Again, no less!*** So I’m watching it (in Firefox, thanks to IE Tab) while I work. (And for that, I thank DeskPins, which lets me run it in a window set to stay always-on-top.)

***And an update to the Update to the Update: Scream and Scream Again isn’t an instant download yet. Darn.

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Maybe next week we’ll watch Apocalypse Now. Or something else that makes NovySan’s drop when I say “I haven’t seen that.”

Meanwhile, my friend Be the Boy posted a list awhile ago of Iconic Films He’s Never Seen (followed by lists of books he hasn’t read and band he’s chosen to ignore) – check it out, then tell me what cultural touchstone’s you’ve missed.

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

It’s gonna be a great evening!

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh

Last night was the West Hollywood Halloween crush. NovySan’s daughter hadn’t ever been, so off we went. We had to park a good two miles away (and unfortunately, the daughter in question was wearing heels), and even though we walked right by 8 Oz. Burger, we decided it would take too long to sit down and eat. So, we found an excellent taco truck in front of a gas station, and fortified with burritos and tortas, forged on to La Cienega.

If you look at the video closely, you probably still can’t make out the protesters in front of the laser show. They weren’t protesting the lasers – they were protesting fun. Homosexuality, yes, but also a long list of other sins, all of which would be punished in fire and vengeance. They were quiet, though, and the crowd seemed to be leaving them alone. At the end, some of you will recognize NovySan, as a Chaplin impersonator (a very specific Chaplin impersonator – his great-grandfather, in fact), and his daughter (who morphed during the course of the day from an undead pin-up to a vintage Bond girl).

And me? I was Caribou Barbie.

(I did manage to get that left antler bent into a more natural shape this morning. The basic shape cam from Crafting for Cheapskates.)

Feed enhanced by Better Feed from Ozh