Only now does it occur to me... SHOWDOWN IN LITTLE TOKYO (1991)

Only now does it occur to me... that SHOWDOWN IN LITTLE TOKYO––a film by action master Mark L. Lester, director of COMMANDO and CLASS OF 1984––functions as a true culmination of his favorite thematic obsessions: brilliant/groan-inducing action one-liners, explosions, and male musculature.

From my understanding, this film was butchered by the studio during the edit, but I think the general sensibility of Lester's vision still shines through. For instance, the man who brought us the lingering closeup of Arnold's jiggling pecs during a machine gun battle in COMMANDO begins SHOWDOWN IN LITTLE TOKYO with what feels like a formalist experiment: male musculature––covered in full-body irezumi (yakuza tattoos) is drenched in, alternatively, light and shadow.

It's the early 1990s action equivalent of Hollis Frampton's experimental 1969 short LEMON, whereupon a static shot of a lemon is subjected to different lighting techniques, revealing something 'profound' about the nature of darkness. Anyway, Lester and Frampton both pare the narrative to the bare essentials: in this case, pectoral muscles, and the different and dramatic ways in which one can view them.

Also, this movie––and those pecs, by extension––were shot by David Cronenberg's resident cinematographer Mark Irwin (SCANNERS, VIDEODROME, THE FLY, etc.). How 'bout that!

What is this movie about? You may be wondering. I've already told you. But if you insist on labels, it's about two tuff cops: Dolph Lundgren

 

 and Brandon Lee.

It's set in Los Angeles' (apparently) yakuza-ravaged Little Tokyo, and its premise is firmly rooted in 1991. You see, Dolph's Aryan-looking buddy cop is fluent in Japanese and was raised in Japan. Whereas Brandon's Asian American buddy cop was raised in the Valley and apparently has never even heard of Japan. This creates what we call dramatic tension. 

 

Acting-wise, as "the straight man," Dolph is basically doing That Thing that Dolph does, and Brandon, as the "funny one," is kind of doing a less cartoonish Bruce Campbell shtick. My wife and I are pretty sure that Brandon Lee took some acting classes before appearing in THE CROW.

Tia Carrere (WAYNE'S WORLD) is in here, too, as a singing gangster's moll who eventually is swept up in a (chemistry-challenged) romantic subplot with Dolph. The tracks she sings sound very "Olivia Newton John."

The villain is yakuza boss Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa (MORTAL KOMBAT, THE PHANTOM, VAMPIRES, LICENSE TO KILL) who, as usual, treats us to some solid scenery chewing throughout.

The music, by David Michael Frank (THE MASK, OUT FOR JUSTICE), is, like the pecs, majestically pared down to the basics. There are essentially two tracks here, a "danger" track––used for all the action/peril scenes––and an "ambient" track, for everything else. The ambient track sounds a lot like the rootin-tootin electro-nonsense in THE GARBAGE PAIL KIDS: THE MOVIE. All of this is intended as a compliment. 

The one-liners are amazing. COMMANDO brought us "Don't disturb my friend, he's dead tired" and "Remember Sully, when I promised to kill you last? I lied." SHOWDOWN IN LITTLE TOKYO gives us "You have the right to remain... dead!," "It's kinda like one of those video games... you just defeated the first wave," and "We're gonna nail this guy, and when we get done, we're gonna go eat fish off those naked chicks!" The latter refers to a yakuza restaurant featuring the klassy combination of nude women and sushi, and is immediately followed up by this manly hand clasp, straight out of PREDATOR.

Speaking of gender politics, SHOWDOWN IN LITTLE TOKYO objectifies the male and female form with relative and trashy equivalency.

Of course, we have to give the advantage to the male form, so celebrated in this film that I'm pretty sure both Dolph and Cary-Hiroyuki spend more time in various states of undress than they do clothed.

 

The highlight (lowlight?) may be when Brandon Lee's character tells Dolph, apropos of nothing, "Kenner, just in case we get killed, I wanted to tell you, you have the biggest dick I've ever seen on a man." That being said, I am certain there is nothing in this film that can match the poetry of the final battle in COMMANDO.

In the end, I would categorize this as second-tier Lester and a damn fun time. Also, I'm pretty sure Tarantino is a fan, since A. It stars Dolph Lundgren, and one of Tarantino's first jobs was working as a P.A. on the Dolph Lundgren workout video, MAXIMUM POTENTIAL; B. it stars Brandon Lee, and Tarantino is a Bruce Lee obsessive (and a "children-of-Hollywood-stars" obsessive); and C., Dolph's character's backstory is very similar to O-ren Ishii's in KILL BILL (as a child, his parents were murdered in front of him by yakuza, in their bedroom).

Finally, I must point out that one Little Tokyo filming location––a crime scene exterior––is shot outside the church from John Carpenter's PRINCE OF DARKNESS! (Which is now the Union Center of the Arts.)

(Also note, far left: Vernee Watson, a.k.a., "Viola 'Aunt Vy' Smith" from THE FRESH PRINCE OF BEL-AIR.)

Only now does it occur to me... FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 3: THE HANGMAN'S DAUGHTER

Only now does it occur to me... that FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 3: THE HANGMAN'S DAUGHTER is the finest Ambrose Bierce fan fiction ever made.

The second straight-to-video sequel to Tarantino and Rodriguez's hardboiled vampire flick FROM DUSK TILL DAWN, THE HANGMAN'S DAUGHTER is a period piece, set in in 1913.  Essentially, it follows the structure of the original: a Western/crime drama which makes a sudden turn into horror territory around the one hour mark.

FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 2: TEXAS BLOOD MONEY was not without its high points, but part three outdoes it on nearly every count––primarily, in concept. 

Ambrose Bierce (THE DEVIL'S DICTIONARY, AN OCCURRENCE AT OWL CREEK BRIDGE, THE DAMNED THING) was one of America's finest satirists, a witty, wayward, and delightfully bitter man whose attitude was somewhere between Jonathan Swift's and Robert Mitchum's.  "Nothing matters" was his motto, and, at seventy-one, rather than suffer the sins of geriatric boredom, traveled south into Mexico with the intention of joining the Revolution.  He was never seen again... 

"...Or was he?"  So supposes FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 3: THE HANGMAN'S DAUGHTER, which delivers the masterstroke of casting the inimitable Michael Parks (DEATH WISH 5, TWIN PEAKS, THE HITMAN, KILL BILL) as Mr. Bierce.


Parks delivers an understated performance that strives for poetry; he imbues the film with a haunting sense of élan vital.  And yes, I'm still talking about a straight-to-video vampire flick.  Remember, this is the actor who can make "waiting around and drinking coffee in a car" rife with pathos (in THE HITMAN).

Written by Robert Rodriguez's cousin Álvaro (and based on a story by the two cousins), THE HANGMAN'S DAUGHTER places a drunken and detached Bierce amid a sea of outlaws, missionaries, lawmen, revolutionaries, and Aztec vampires, where he can quote one-liners from THE DEVIL'S DICTIONARY and generally not care a damn.

This is about as brilliant as having Oscar Wilde become Paladin's sidekick in a particularly memorable episode of HAVE GUN, WILL TRAVEL.

Director P.J. Pesce, long imprisoned by television and straight-to-DVD sequels (THE LOST BOYS: THE TRIBE, SMOKIN' ACES 2: ASSASSIN'S BALL, SNIPER 3) brings a genuine style to the proceedings; you see the talent and joie de vivre of a young director excited to be playing with the medium––this is not a man phoning it in, and boy, that makes a difference.

True to the Tarantino/Rodriguez oeuvre, it's packed with loving homages to everything from THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY to FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE to TAXI DRIVER, and composer Nathan Barr even turns in a borderline brilliant score, heavily inspired by Ennio Morricone by-way-of John Zorn.

Also of note: Danny Trejo is still tendin' bar eighty years prior (he has about three minutes of screentime),

Though he says, "We don't need no stinking brushes!" in perhaps the saddest nod to THE TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE ever made.

Sonia Braga (KISS OF THE SPIDER WOMAN) has a blast as the Elvira-ish innkeeper/madame (and mother of Salma Hayek's character from the first film),

and Temuera Morrison (ONCE WERE WARRIORS, Boba Fett's dad in the STAR WARS prequels), is the titular "Hangman" and he gives it his all in a sort of an "evil Yul Brynner" performance.

More "bizarro MAGNIFICENT SEVEN" than WESTWORLD.

Sure, there's plenty of bad CGI, and I would never call it a masterpiece, but the act of shoehorning a literary figure into a bargain bin horror flick and then hiring an actor capable of embodying said figure is something of an artistic coup, and it's why FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 3 ought to outlive its intended shelf-life.
 
Here's to you, Mr. Bierce... and Mr. Parks.

PS: And if you check it out, stay tuned after the end credits for a mildly amusing, meta scene involving the singular Mr. Parks.

Only now does it occur to me... FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 2: TEXAS BLOOD MONEY

Only now does it occur to me... that as far as straight-to-video sequels to moderately successful cult vampire-Westerns from the 1990s go, FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 2: TEXAS BLOOD MONEY is not quite so satisfying as VAMPIRES 2: LOS MUERTOS.  Still, there are a few things going on worth mentioning.

"Executive produced" by Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino, I'm assuming that only means they were willing to lend their names to the project in exchange for a royalty check.  In reality, this is the Scott Spiegel (the Sam Raimi crony who brought us INTRUDER) and Duane Whitaker (a Tarantino crony) show, two men whose ambitions exceed their abilities, though they do have a fair amount of action-movie-moxie. It kinda feels like a movie William Lustig or Lewis Teague might've cranked out on a bad day.

Pictured: action-movie-moxie.

The film opens with unexpected cameos by Bruce Campbell and Tiffani-Amber Thiessen ("Kelly Kapowski" from SAVED BY THE BELL), playing two sleazy lawyers who are killed by CGI bats in an elevator.

Bruce Campbell has made a specialty act out of appearing in a number of bad movies for less than five minutes.

Then it develops into a vampire-heist movie starring Robert Patrick (TERMINATOR 2), who looks appropriately "cool," but he's given very little of substance to do.

It's sad that Patrick is given the rare leading man opportunity in something this weak, because I know he has the chops to really pull it off.  Ah, well.

Spiegel also shows off his pet obsession of Italo-Horror (and Sam Raimi)-inspired ridiculous POV shots (also on full display in his slasher INTRUDER).  The best one here is probably the oscillating fan-POV in a dingy hotel.

(Also note: CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER and BREAKING BAD's Raymond Cruz accompanying Mr. Patrick.)

Anyway, there's a lot of Dick Dale surf rock and vampires and explosions and Danny Trejo shows up for a bit as "Razor Eddie," presumably the twin brother of the deceased "Razor Charlie" from the first FROM DUSK TILL DAWN.

Trejo runs it up the flagpole.

I'm not despairing, though: I have heard promising things about FROM DUSK TILL DAWN 3, which takes the franchise back a hundred years and stars the inimitable Michael Parks as famed author Ambrose Bierce (!?). 

Only now does it occur to me... TRUE ROMANCE (PART 2)

I'm just full of insight lately.  Full of something, anyway, I imagine.  Anyway, I wanted to add to my previous TRUE ROMANCE posting the essential intellectual observation that Gary Oldman's incredible portrayal in TRUE ROMANCE shares an inexplicable, mesmerizing parallel with Pete Burns on the album cover to Dead or Alive's SOPHISTICATED BOOM BOOM:

Only now does it occur to me... TRUE ROMANCE

Only now does it occur to me... that there must be some odd, spiritual connection between Junta Juleil all-time Hall-O-Famers Kurt Russell ...and Christian Slater.  Let us revisit the oft-forgotten coda of the Tony Scott/Quentin Tarantino cult classic TRUE ROMANCE:














So we got The Slater Factor here, looking a lot like Kurt Russell's iconic Captain Ron, eye patch and Hawaiian shirt and all.  That's enough to warm my heart, sure, but it's not particularly unusual, particularly for 1993, a year that was veritably rife with Hawaiian shirts and zany, ocean-themed antics.  But wait– Slater's character Clarence is pictured here with his son Elvis, so named because of his Elvis obsession which permeates the film.  Now, let's take a trip back in time to 1963 when a 10-year old Kurt Russell made an on-screen appearance with the real-life Elvis in IT HAPPENED AT THE WORLD'S FAIR, where he was permitted to kick Elvis in the shins.  Later, in 1979, in John Carpenter's ELVIS, Kurt received the opportunity to play "The King" himself.  Even later, Kurt Russell would cross paths with a Quentin Tarantino script as well, appearing as the memorable Stuntman Mike in DEATH PROOF.  But before then, Kurt Russell and Christian Slater teamed up in the Elvis impersonator-centric heist movie 3000 MILES TO GRACELAND.  What does it all mean?  I don't think that I can venture a guess.  Yours is as good as mine.   I suppose all that I know is that the paths and destinies of Christian Slater, Kurt Russell, and Elvis are somehow, mysteriously, and incontrovertibly intertwined, and I'm more than okay with that.

...Annnnnnd I'm going to go to bed now.

Film Review: PAST MIDNIGHT (1991, Jan Eliasberg)

Stars: 3.5 of 5.
Running Time: 100 minutes.
Tag-line: "Past Passion. Past Terror. Past Murder. Past Midnight."
Notable Cast or Crew: Rutger Hauer, Natasha Richardson, Clancy Brown (HIGHLANDER, BLUE STEEL, EXTREME PREJUDICE), Paul Giamatti, Tom Wright (EXTERMINATOR 2, THE BROTHER FROM ANOTHER PLANET), Guy Boyd (FLASHPOINT, THE EWOK ADVENTURE: CARAVAN OF COURAGE). Written by Frank Norwood (DRIVEN TO KILL, THE SURVIVAL OF DANA). Script doctoring by Quentin Tarantino. Music by Steve Bartek (CABIN BOY, SNOW DAY, former member of Strawberry Alarm Clock and Oingo Boingo).
Best exchange: "146 I.Q...." –"Ted Bundy had 150."

Before I even begin, three things: PAST MIDNIGHT is far better than it has any right to be. Second, I'd heard this described as a wanna-be Eszterhas, when, in fact- it's wanna-be De Palma. There's a big difference. Third, Quentin Tarantino did do a rewrite of the script, which gained him that nebulous "associate producer" credit, and yes, you can tell. More on that in a bit.

The main thrust is that Rutger Hauer has been released from prison after fifteen years for the murder of his wife and unborn child- a crime which he claims not to have committed. (And he's Rutger Hauer, so he's pretty persuasive.)

Natasha Richardson becomes his social worker and then a little bit more than his social worker, and breaks the fragile heart of Clancy Brown in the process.

But the thought continues to gnaw at the back of her mind...what if he did do it?

Now, to me, this sounds a lot like De Palma did a TV movie remake of IN A LONELY PLACE, and it was indeed the only theatrical foray by television director-for-hire Jan Eliasberg (CAGNEY & LACEY, L.A. LAW, SISTERS, EARLY EDITION, PARTY OF FIVE, et al.). The surprising thing is that it works. Well, at least until the third act. Some of you might be attributing this to the Tarantino rewrite, but I've gotta say most of the commendations belong to the actors and composer Steve Bartek. Tarantino does bring a certain degree of idiosyncratic dialogue to the table, and while it's immediately identifiable as Tarantino's, it doesn't quite qualify as razor-edged or quotable, per sé.

For example:
"Maybe Jordan isn't a natural born killer."
"I'm not a sex maniac! I'm not some Son-of-Sam asshole!"
"It makes Nightmare on Elm Street look like Charlotte's Web."
"What's the difference between a whore and a bitch? A whore'll sleep with anybody, and a bitch'll sleep with anybody but me."
"If we were to have this kind of an exchange in the joint, one of us would end up with a shank between the ribs."
"You can say 'maybe' all goddamn day, and I don't think you believe that."

Composer Steve Bartek's music is great- it's melodramatic, over-the-top, and punctuated with enough frightening strings to be worthy of Bernard Herrmann (or at least Pino Donaggio). One of the more bombastic, overdramatic scores of the 1990's for sure, and I've always said that anything which nearly approximates Max Steiner, even bad Max Steiner, maybe especially bad Max Steiner, is worth a few points in my book.

The acting is top-notch. Rutger Hauer is, as always, phenomenal. The entire movie hinges upon his ability to appear as 'the killer' and 'not the killer' at the same time- and by gum, does he pull it off.


There's a terrifying ambiguity to everything that he does, and in more than one scene, he tugs on the heart-strings while simultaneously creeping you the fuck out. He even gets to do a ridiculous (intentional? unintentional?) replay of the "tears in rain" scene from BLADE RUNNER, which makes this feel almost like a Rutger Hauer's Greatest Hits compilation, with bits and pieces taken from the Ridley Scott, the psycho in THE HITCHER, and the love triangle from A BREED APART.



Tears in rain

At one point, he's referred to as "white trash," which is, of course, a bit of a stretch, but he wears enough turtlenecks throughout to maintain his intellectual integrity.

Then we've got Clancy Brown, camping outside Richardson's house and watching the new lovers from his fishing boat with a mixture of jealousy and disdain.


He gets to wear some hideous early 90's cravats as well,

but that doesn't prevent us from liking him just the same.

Stuck in the middle is Natasha Richardson, who besides being caught in a love triangle with two of the best action hero/villains of the 1980's, has the difficult task of holding her own against a flashily-written and acted Hauer role. Naturally, she succeeds, and, in the end, does it with shotgun-blastin' panache.

But who are we supposed to be rooting for here? Clancy Brown or Rutger Hauer? This is like SOPHIE's choice. This is asking me to choose between children.

The Kurgan or Roy Batty? EXTREME PREJUDICE or WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE? This is sadistic, the way that you're toying with my emotions, PAST MIDNIGHT.

The lush, fog-enshrouded, overcast, and isolated Pacific Northwestern locations fit the material well, and on more than one occasion, there's palpable suspense.

There are some nice bits that are reminiscent of the best giallos, and a recurring device which involves a killer using a 16mm camera

which recalls Dario Argento's "black-gloved murderer POV" as well as the camera-spike killer from PEEPING TOM. We've got a solid enough early 90's thriller with enough faux-De Palma (never thought I'd say that) street cred and solid performances to make it enjoyable, but it severely bungles the ending, going for some boneheaded, 'Gotcha!,' clichéd action. Ordinarily, I'd be okay with that, but I think that it actually earned some complexity points along the way. It could have ended as a slowly racheted, chilling character study, and, given the caliber of actor, I would've been more than satisfied. Regardless: three and a half stars.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: NOT QUITE HOLLYWOOD (2009, Mark Hartley)

Stars: 3.9 of 5.
Running Time: 103 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Interviews or archive footage with everyone from Richard Franklin (ROADGAMES), Jamie Lee Curtis, Stacy Keach, Dennis Hopper, George Miller (MAD MAX), Russell Mulcahy (HIGHLANDER), Ted Kotcheff (RAMBO, WEEKEND AT BERNIE'S), George Lazenby (ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE), Steve Railsback, Jeremy Thomas, Quentin Tarantino, Rod Taylor, Bruce Beresford (BREAKER MORANT), Alan Arkin, Henry Silva, Broderick Crawford, David Hemmings, Christopher Lee, Olivia Hussey, James Mason, George Peppard, Donald Pleasence, and Lesley Ann Warren.
Tag-line: "Finally an Aussie film packed full of boobs, pubes, tubes ... and a bit of kung fu."

Grab a "thick, crunchy hamburger," sit back, relax, and enjoy a measured overview of that oft-forgotten, oft-maligned genre: 'Ozploitation.' Now, there's not much depth to this film, the reality-TV style (different, generic, upbeat music cues every 25 seconds; the inability to hold a shot for more than 2 seconds) is frequently obnoxious, and a lot of your enjoyment will hinge on your ability to tolerate Quentin Tarantino, but the absurd clips, psychotic personalities, and colorful anecdotes go a long way.

If you can't even stomach this photograph, you'd do best to stay away.

See the one-armed censor; endless vomit; a Mondo-style film called AUSTRALIA AFTER DARK; Henry Silva dangling 70 feet above the ground without a safety net; clips from Russell Mulcahy's early 'giant warthog' flick RAZORBACK; and endless, marauding biker gangs, scouring the Outback for people to fuck with! You hear about a washed-up David Hemmings' drunken directorial style, Richard Franklin’s big break with the coma-horror flick PATRICK (immediately ripped-off by Italians, and later by KILL BILL), the xenophobia faced by Jamie Lee Curtis and Stacy Keach while starring in Franklin's ROADGAMES, Steve Railsback delivering semi-coherent rants, and Dennis Hopper pronounced dead while filming MAD DOG MORGAN.

Hopper, in fact, survived.

Witness the miracle of marsupial werewolf birth in HOWLING 3:

live ammo fired at Railsback in TURKEY SHOOT (a.k.a. ESCAPE 2000 on DVD):

Railsback shot at FOR REAL.

George Lazenby on fire for real in THE MAN FROM HONG KONG; a possessed game of Chinese Checkers in HARLEQUIN (a.k.a. DARK FORCES on DVD); and majestic, SHINING-style, bone-chilling cinematography in NEXT OF KIN. You’re forced to respect these filmmakers’ ingenuity, their commitment to trash cinema, and their nonchalance about risking life and limb for movies about giant alligators, killer bikers, or naked ladies who take lots of showers. It’s almost like if a dozen quasi-Herzogs were unleashed upon the heyday of American International. So if you can stomach the periodically inane presentation, NOT QUITE HOLLYWOOD is well worth a watch.

-Sean Gill

Film Review: DIARY OF THE DEAD (2008, George A. Romero)

Stars: 4.3 of 5.
Running Time: 95 minutes.
Notable Cast or Crew: Martin Roach (here playing "Stranger," and he's a very talented actor usually confined to 'prison guard,' 'cop,' and 'doctor' roles- TOTAL RECALL 2070, WHO IS CLETIS TOUT?, THE LOOKOUT), Scott Wentworth (the awesome arrow-slinging Professor Maxwell here, THE ICE STORM, KUNG FU THE LEGEND CONTINUES), Michelle Morgan, Joshua Close (K-19 THE WIDOWMAKER), Amy Lalonde, Joe Dinicol (the EERIE INDIANA episode, "The Phantom"), Alan Van Sprang (LAND OF THE DEAD), and voice cameos by Quentin Tarantino, Stephen King, Guillermo del Toro, Wes Craven, and Simon Pegg. Special Makeup Effects by Greg Nicotero.
Tag-line: "Shoot the dead."
Best one-liner: "Don't bury dead. First shoot in head."

DIARY OF THE DEAD is a fast-paced, creative zombie thriller, with spectacular makeup effects and excellent performances. It’s a work as hilarious as it is disquieting.


There's haunting imagery of underwater zombies, a Shakespearian lush of a Professor, sharp commentary on class and race, some terrifying National Guardsmen, and the greatest Amish character in film history (I will say no more about it).


So why did so many people, including seasoned Romero zombie fans, not just dislike it, but outright HATE it? Well, in a way, Romero purposely stacks the deck against himself, but it's completely necessary for delving into the material he wishes to cover:

#1. The shaky cam. People bristle at this. But in an era where the dogged documentation of self-experience has proliferated to sickening levels, it becomes necessary. On a more positive note, this is also meant to function as a document of the thankfully increasingly prevalent outsider media- look at TROUBLE THE WATER, for example.

#2. The students are generally selfish, pretentious, and self-important: a lot of people look at the surface commentary here with the same disdain they hold for certain characters.

But that's doing Romero's meta-meta commentary a cruel disservice. It's easy to mistake the students' perspective for the film's because it is so frequently and overtly referenced (i.e., the voiceover narration). But Romero's commentary covers both the events depicted AND the students' commentary. Which leads me to:

#3. No one likes to be called an idiot. A mindless, self-absorbed numbnuts who fiddles while Rome burns. This is the number one reason the people who dislike this film react so negatively. Because, that's right, Romero is calling YOU out. Yeah, you asshole. You're the same fuck-mooks who wildly film yourselves in Times Square, harass celebrities for autographs, or fumble for your cell phone camera after a car accident. You're the same people who conduct yourselves as what Herzog calls 'perpetual tourists' instead of 'citizens of the world.'
Kindly old George is calling you out from behind those ginormous spectacles, and you don't like that.

I can’t say I blame you, but it’s a pity you didn’t learn anything from it.

-Sean Gill

2009 Halloween Countdown

31. PROM NIGHT (1980, Paul Lynch)
30. PHENOMENA (1985, Dario Argento)
29. HOUSE OF WAX (1953, André de Toth)
28. SILENT RAGE (1982, Michael Miller)
27. BASKET CASE (1982, Frank Henenlotter)
26. THE DEADLY SPAWN (1983, Douglas McKeown)
25. PELTS (2006, Dario Argento)
24. ANGEL HEART (1987, Alan Parker)
23. KILLER WORKOUT (1986, David A. Prior)
22. FREDDY'S DEAD: THE FINAL NIGHTMARE (1991, Rachel Talalay)
21. THE ABOMINABLE DR. PHIBES (1971, Robert Fuest)
20. FRANKENHOOKER (1990, Frank Henenlotter)
19. HELLRAISER (1987, Clive Barker)
18. GEEK MAGGOT BINGO (1983, Nick Zedd)
17. ALLIGATOR (1980, Lewis Teague)
16. LIZARD IN A WOMAN'S SKIN (1971, Lucio Fulci)
15. THE CARD PLAYER (2004, Dario Argento)
14. SPASMO (1974, Umberto Lenzi)
13. C.H.U.D. (1984, Douglas Cheek)
12. FRIDAY THE 13TH PART III (1982, Steve Miner)
11. SWAMP THING (1982, Wes Craven)
10. DIARY OF THE DEAD (2008, George A. Romero)
9.
...