Movieline Online

What is it about Amanda Pays and slimy tentacled monsters?   Within the space of two short years the actress was groped by a pair of genetic hybrids in  The Kindred  (1987) and  Leviathan  (1988), both titles fondly remembered as a last gasp for ambitious practical creature effects.  Synapse Films rescues the former in an equally ambitious special edition Blu-ray that features an all-new 4K remaster of the unrated cut. After the death of his mother, scientist John Hollins learns she was pursuing her own research in their childhood home.  A weekend trip to clear up any lingering mystery is crashed by Melissa Leftridge (Pays), a researcher herself who thinks John’s mother was onto something big…and she was!   Lurking in the basement is a horde of creepy crawlies made up of John’s own DNA.  Meanwhile a rival scientist (played by Rod Steiger) wants the mutants for himself, setting up a family reunion that might leave no survivors!   The Kindred  doesn’t make much sense, even for a creature

The decline of classic rock has precipitated the decline of the guitar hero.  But even in the 70s and 80s, it was rare to find a six-stringed musician elevated above the rest of the band.  You’ve got Clapton, Page, Gilmour, Van Halen.  And then there’s Randy Rhoads, whose stint on Ozzy Osbourne’s first two solo albums earned him the sort of accolades other guitarists spend a lifetime trying to earn.  But his untimely death cut short a career that shaped the future of metal music in more ways than one. Randy Rhoads :  Reflections of a Guitar Icon  is the sort of documentary VH1’s  Behind the Music  used to do so well, right down to the cliched voice-over dialogue requirement, “But behind the scenes tensions were brewing.”  Of course, every band has tension.  And Randy’s time with Quiet Riot was a constant struggle for recognition and record deals, to the point where when Ozzy came calling there was really no hesitation.   Director Andre Relis’ film is made up of lots of rare concert foo

Though Gothic literature got its start well before the advent of cinema, the two complement each other so well that it might be a near perfect expression of both art forms.  Full of secret passageways and cobwebbed staircases hidden within decrepit castles that harbor all manner of psychological and supernatural secrets, the raw ingredients are ridiculously ripe for visual translation to the screen.  And all that atmosphere means the story can be so-so and  still deliver the necessary shocks.  Such is the case with the films collected in Arrow’s latest must-have box set  Gothic Fantastico , four rarely-seen titles showcasing a particularly Italian take on the then-trendy Hammer and Poe series. Things get started in high fashion with  Lady Morgan’s Vengeance  (1965), a uniquely Italian ghost story that begins as a predictable melodrama but culminates in an undead orgy of death!  That might be hyperbole considering director Massimo Pupillo’s take on the material is fairly understated for

While virtually every film today is shot in a hi-def format that approximates the look of celluloid prints, there was a time when  shot-on-video  was a category unto itself, reflecting a DIY aesthetic working under no-budget conditions, using amateur actors with little to no hope of distribution beyond tape sharing and fan festivals.  Like a second-tier Troma Studios, these regional auteurs made movies for the sheer fun of it.  With  Amityville Karen  (2022) director Shawn C. Phillips is attempting to work in the same wheelhouse. In between trolling social media, harassing her neighbors and closing down a local winery, Karen (Lauren Francesca) finds time to get possessed by a demon contortionist and goes on a rampage of politically-correct death and destruction.  A cast of quirky characters meet their fate after suffering through trendy quips and cliches.   At one hour and 45 minutes,  Amityville Karen  is longer that most comedies need to be.  And  certainly   longer than this mostly

Writer / director Pierre Tsigaridis obviously has something to prove with his feature directorial debut  Two Witches  (2021).  Firstly, that he has done his homework studying the ebbs and flow of modern horror scare techniques.  Second…well, that seems to be his  only  goal in what is a derivative and insultingly manipulative horror film that bombards the audience with orchestral hits, spooky contact lenses and quick cut dream sequences that went out of style in the early ‘90s.  No offense, it takes a lot of work to put together a feature film, but  Two Witches  is nothing more than a calling card. Broken into two interconnected stories, both revolve around the aforementioned witches who seem to be working for a higher power.  In the first entry, an unsightly hag haunts the dreams of a pregnant woman in an attempt to secure her unborn offspring, while part two (the stronger half) finds a roommate dealing with her own Salem-style  single-white-female .  Almost an anthology, characters c

An also-ran on the post-punk scene by today’s standards,  The March Violets  were part of the Leeds drum machine clique that also included  Sisters of Mercy  and  Red Lorry Yellow Lorry .  Releasing a string of singles and EPs that earned plenty of press in the U.K., there wasn’t much momentum across the pond until  Snake Dance  – a thumping dark wave ditty if there ever was one – tossed them into the goth rock discard pile.  It also effectively spelled the end of the band, with key members jumping ship or forming solo projects.  But those early recordings are well-overdue for critical reappraisal, with tracks like  Radiant Boys  and  Crow Baby delivering jagged guitar riffs and dissonant vocal duets reminiscent of L.A. punk pioneers  X .  Lead vocalist Simon Denbigh avoids gothic pretensions, shrieking and snarling with an unexpected vocal range that meshes wonderfully with Rosie Garland.  Drifting up the playlist,  Slow Drip Lizard  massages a  Gang of Four­ -style riff into bursts o

Released when vampire films with a contemporary setting were still a novelty,  Count Yorga, Vampire  (1970) and its sequel,  The Return of Count Yorga  (1972), beat Hammer's  Dracula A.D. 1972  to the punch by two years, playing up the conflict between superstition and the "what's your sign" generation.  It's a bit raw and amateurish, but this surprise drive-in success from AIP, originally conceived as a porno entitled  The Loves of Count Iorga , gets a big boost from star Robert Quarry, whose aristocratic performance as the titular Bulgarian royal with a taste for bleeding heart hippies classes up what would have been an otherwise casually generic film. Set in Los Angeles, with a hint of Mason murder uneasiness still in the air, the film opens with a séance led by Count Yorga, passing himself off as expert in the "mystic arts,” and attended by a pair of hipster couples looking to contact one of their recently deceased relatives...who also happened to have be