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Bikini Swamp Girl Massacre 2014 Review

Bikini Swamp Girl Massacre 2014

aka Hell Glades

Directed by:Aiden Dillard

Starring: Ted Vernon, Nicole Soden, Jenny Scordamaglia

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Review by Luisjo González

Unfortunately, I’ve been working a lot and I’ve not been able to continue covering the Strip & Slashers for this Saturday. There’s a couple left to watch and review, but I don’t know where they’re located, so so maybe I’ll continue next year. I went for a stalk and slasher that still includes a gang of girls. Two of my favourite slashers from the peak period were Scalps and The Ghost Dance. Fred Olen Ray’s Scalps was 2021-10-18 (3)extremely mean spirited and gory, whilst Peter Buffa’s The Ghost Dance was astoundingly brutal in places. The link between the two is that their antagonists were Native Americans. As a Libertarian, I’m definitely not WOKE, but I wonder, would the WOKE brigade allow such a film – a Native American maniac, to be released today? Interestingly, mitochondrial DNA tests show that Native Americans aren’t actually native to that land. They’re originally from regions of Siberia. What can’t be denied though, is that they were definitely in the US before us Europeans. I wonder how they got there initially? Walked? By horses? By boats? We know the Neanderthals, our ancient cousins, were mariners 100,000+ years ago, so why not tribes from Russia? Anyway, when I found out that BSGM had a Seminole assassin, I couldn’t wait to watch it. The working week really dragged with anticipation, knowing that this was going to be my Friday evening movie. I gave the Mrs some money to go out, so the coast was clear and I put the DVD on to my plasma.

This film, believe it or not, was released twice under two titles. It was completed in 2011 and then came out in 2013 as Hell Glades. The following year, it hit shelves again as BSGM. Why they unleashed it a second time I can’t say, but it’s unusual to be released two times so soon. It’s studio was Troma, and I’ve already told you how much I dislike them. Despite their flair for toilet humour and crapola, they’ve given us a large amount of slasher trash and I have to give a thumbs up for that.

On Friday October 5th 2007, during the Columbus Day weekend celebration in the USA, a group of young chicas go camping in the Florida Everglades. There they come across the spirit of a Seminole warrior named Coowahchobe.2021-10-18 (92) They must fight to survive against the fierce assailant.

Wow man. I mentioned Scalps and The Ghost Dance above, but in the slasher genre there’s also Camping Del Terrore , Demon Warrior and Ghostkeeper, which can be listed as Native American genre entries. That’s four titles that are pretty damn good, all things considered, so I was eminently excited about Bikini Swamp Girl Massacre. Seven attractive women, including a sexy Latina, a killer armed with a tomahawk and a huge forest to slaughter the septuple within; you’d have to be retarded not to make a great motion picture out of those ingredients. I haven’t met director Aiden Dillard, but this was his last shot at direction and looking at what he put together, ‘retarded’ is me being overtly kind to him. When the final credits rolled, I sat there in silence and shock. I was dumbfounded. Tumbleweed flew across the living-room floor. I was thinking to myself, what happened? How could someone get so much so wrong? Critics often state that they were in pain whilst watching a 2021-10-18 (54)certain motion picture as an insulting slur, but with BSGM, I truly was in agony.

Firstly, the movie started incredibly well for like 30 milliseconds. We get a great boob shot immediately, two murders straight after and the cinematography looks bright and clear. Being that I’m a slasher fan since the eighties, I dislike maniacs that converse whilst killing and things started getting silly when the assassin here kidnaps one girl and puts her in a cage whilst stating that he wants her to be his wife. If you’re going to give your antagonist extensive dialogue, then there are filmmaking rules that can never be ignored in the horror genre. A good example is the original Black Christmas and the psycho from that piece. The calls from the 1974 thriller were effective, because the guy on the phone sounded eminently deranged. Coowahchobe in this picture looks and talks like a f**ling buffoon and if we ignore the fact that a white guy shouldn’t play a Seminole warrior, it gets worse when he even starts cracking jokes. The runtime is eighty-three minutes, but the dialogue is so tedious that it felt like I was viewing an entire mini-series in one sitting and I’m not talking about The Sopranos. If you can imagine watching a conversation between a group of people that you don’t know discussing their laundry basket, then you’ll get a good idea of the pace of BSGM. The performances were as bad as you can imagine, but one or two of the actors were at least trying; and the gore effects were bottom of the barrel at best. I guess, if I had to give a plus, then I can say that there is a mahoosive body count and a lot of blood. There were also a couple of hot chicas played by Nicole Soden and Latina Jenny Scordamaglia, who both gave up on the acting dream after this catastrophe. Can you blame them? I actually thought Scordamaglia played being in agony (she was caught in a bear trap) quite well, but she wasn’t given the chance to flex her ‘acting chops’. On top of all the negativity I’ve listed above, the feature is also cack-handily edited and the nutjob has that often seen ability to teleport to whatever location the script requires with no explanation. The package description describes the killer as a ‘spirit’,2021-10-18 (47) yet he bleeds and dies like a normal human being, with no ghostly abilities. We get a final girl, but it could’ve been any of the female cast members. She wasn’t exceptional in the story and wasn’t given expositional scenes as would a Jamie Leigh Curtis/Neve Campbell. It all ends as stupidly as it started with the most weird, bizarre and pathetic ‘defeat the antagonist’ gimmick in the whole history of moving pictures. F**k it, I’ll give away a spoiler, it won’t ruin anything because most of you would’ve f**king turned it off by that point. The aggressor, the main reason to watch a f**king horror flick, actually kills himself!!! You read correctly, the antagonist commits suicide for no real reason…??????

Another year goes by, another sh*t Troma movie. I don’t know why that studio hasn’t gone bust already, but they’re still here as large as ever. The track record of American Indian slashers is so good, this one should be sued for destroying the reputation. F**k Aiden Dillard and F**k Bikini Swamp Girl Massacre. Take care peeps, see you next week… ¡Viva la revolución y viva Cuba!

Killer Guise:√

Gore:√

Final Girl:√

RATING: klag

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Babysitter Massacre 2013 Review

Babysitter Massacre 2013

Directed by: Henrique Couto

Starring: Erin R. Ryan, Marylee Osborne, Joni Durian

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Review by Luis Joaquín González

As fans of the slasher genre, if you got the opportunity to make your own movie, how would it look? Would you tick all the boxes in regards to the general trademarks that 6566777889898989877876767887you know and love? Would you pack it with nudity and gore? I ask this because Henrique Couto’s Babysitter Massacre is exactly how I’d imagine a true genre lover might roll out a slasher flick. That’s not a critical evaluation by any means, but a brief outline of what you should expect from this overlooked entry. 55676788789989887787678

A group of girls that grew up together have decided to spend Halloween at a slumber party to rekindle their friendships. They haven’t been as close since one of their number was kidnapped years earlier and has never been found. They used to run a group called ‘The Babysitter Club’ and charge a fee to look after younger children in the area. This all stopped after the disappearance of young April and they hold a girl called Bianca wholly responsible for the awful event. Little do they know that a masked killer has began stalking and murdering them one by one and he seems to have a specific focus on Angela, their bubbly host. Can they stop the psychopath before he kills them all?  

 

What I thought really worked about Babysitter was that it went out of its way to highlight some of the category’s favourite moments without needing to revert to parody. I noticed nods to Slumber Party Massacre, Sorority House Massacre II, Halloween and others, but they were rolled out slightly under the radar, which made it more satisfying 6677788789898778787678878989989when I recognised them. The killer boasted a unique and surprisingly effective blank mask, which I felt really gave him an aura of macabre non-identity. He kidnaps the majority of his victims and kills them with more of a torture-porn approach, but most of these scenes are exceptionally brutal and fairly authentic. My favourite would have to be the opening shot, which sees a girl getting her fingernails pulled off by a pair of pliers… Ouch!45456567678876564334456576

Scenes between cast-members are neatly staged and comfortably shot and Couto has written some expressive dialogue in places. Erin Ryan is solid as Angela, the final girl, and even if she is surrounded by a lot of lesser actresses, she keeps the dramatics believable. It’s strange because the sequences of characters in conversation seem to work much better than the moments when the killer strikes. There are quite a few murders, but we have absolutely no idea who most of the early victims are and none of them have any kind of build up or anticipation. What I did find interesting was the use of text messages as a tool to threaten rather than the usual deranged phone calls. Babysitter Massacre is definitely a modern advancement on the old When a Stranger Calls chestnut. There was one chase sequence in an office complex that was sharp and tense, but aside from that, the killer just turned up 6677878887676565655666776immediately in most of the other killings. It’s hard to tell how much of this was performed that way due to a lack of budget, but the film was crying out for more suspense. Especially because Couto had proved that he could deliver it when the opportunity arose. 

The final third is again very torture-porn-esque and offers a set-up where two of a trio of kidnapped girls have to murder their friend with a claw hammer in order to have a chance to escape the concrete basement that they’ve been locked in. Whilst the idea is twisted and sadistic, it doesn’t make sense, because logic dictates that they should have at least waited and seen if they could use said hammer to retaliate against their abductor. This brought my rating of the feature down considerably as I felt that it was unrealistic and thrown together with minimal thought. Thankfully, the downbeat ending salvages the tone as the credits roll and I actually thought it was really quite a shock. 56566778878676778889

Babysitter Massacre is a fine example of exploitation that is packed to the rafters with nudity (seriously there’s loads), gore and a pretty good mystery. I just think that it had something of a stagnated flow, which in fairness may well have been because of the stringent funding. Director Henrique Couto is a cool guy and because of that, it’s hard to give his movies a bad rating. His personality shines through his work and he seemed to love splashing the screen with goo and getting most of his actresses naked as much as we enjoyed watching it. I am sure that no one knows more than he that there is room for improvement here, but in the meantime it’s a film that I definitely enjoyed. 

Slasher Trappings:

Killer Guise: √√√√

Gore: √√

Final Girl:√√√

RATING:a-slash-above-logo11a-slash-above-logo11

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Camp 139 2013 Review

Camp 139 2013

Directed by: Matthew Joseph Adams, Benjamin James

Starring: Ricardo Andres, Greg Bronson, Michael Cooley

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Review by Luisito Joaquín González

Last week, when I posted my write-up of Blood Shed, I was chatting about other entries that included a crazed soldier as an antagonist 67476473737328282828282and how the ‘born to kill’ synopsis made a perfect motive for a film such as this. Well Camp 139 has a plot outline so similar to Shed that I had to check that they weren’t from the same crew. Released on DVD earlier this year, not many have given this the time of day, which makes your old uncle Luis proud to be the first to put pen to paper on a Slash above. Interestingly enough, there’s a short that I have seen called Camp 139 that was released47473873828283737464 back in 2010 by director Ryan Polukord. I haven’t uncovered a link between the two productions, which is strange, because they have similar woodland backdrops and the same unique title…

Four youngsters head off to a place in the forest where it’s rumoured that there lies an abandoned military hospital. Legend states that many years after the Second World War, the site became a hub of experiments to create soldiers that were brainwashed to become remorseless killing machines. After a while, we learn that a maniacal force is hiding amongst the woodland…

Like many hard working Joes across the world, I use public transport, the train in fact, to arrive at my place of 6457474838383838383work. (Rarely on time) Readers in countries like Germany and Canada can be comforted by the fact that they may never have to experience the catastrophe that is the National Rail Service in the United Kingdom. A couple of weeks ago, I arrived at the station to see that not just one, but two of my scheduled journeys had been cancelled due to an ‘undiagnosed fault’. When a carriage finally did pull up to my platform an hour and a half later, it was packed like a cattle truck so they would let no other desperate passengers clamber aboard. My boss was livid. Camp 139 is a similar experience to that event, because we wait 38 minutes for the killer to arrive, and when he finally does, he drags his victim off the screen in two-seconds flat. It felt like one of those crappy Secret Santa presents where a devious colleague has wrapped a health-food bar in an iPad box. I’m6574738383882828282 still not sure if I have fully recovered.

Up until that point, things had been grim, inescapably so. A mechanic couldn’t give you heart surgery, a bricklayer wouldn’t build you a cloud software platform and a person without a clue won’t deliver an exciting scary movie experience. I felt a bit sorry for the actors, because they weren’t doing such a bad job. I closed my eyes to listen to their conversations and they sounded almost how you would imagine a gang of friends to talk. It’s just that the dialogue is so bad and so tediously shot that it takes the will power of an ancient monk to keep focus. They didn’t even bother including a score of some kind to add energy to the sequences. It’s hard on occasion, when watching a bad movie, to put a finger on the true roots of 6747487383838383the problem. With directors Matthew Joseph Adams and Benjamin James, there’s no mistake in uncovering the guilty party.

The final third takes place in an abandoned factory of sorts and rips off Blood Junkie so much that for a moment I forgot what film I was watching. I often wonder how psycho killers that reside in such a dilapidated place manage to survive when dumb teens don’t wander through on a camping trip. I mean, what do they eat? Do pizza guys accept payment from a fellow in camouflage and a Gas Mask? Do such people receive homeless benefits? Anyway, whereas Junkie was a fine example of craft and finesse on shoestring funding, Camp offers absolutely nothing. No chills, no thrills, no skills Camp139patientwviccopyand no hundred-dollar bills baby. You can blame the minuscule budget all you want but that’s not an excuse for flat boring camera angles, cringeworthy conversations and a killer in a mask that doesn’t even fit him. I mean come on!!! Even the sight of Victoria Paege in a bikini couldn’t save it.

I knew that I was in for a bad time when the pre-credits scene burst on to the screen like a 64674737383838282headless bull. Just who were those people and what the hell was going on? Before I even had a chance to analyse the visuals, my ears were pounded by some death metal and everything faded to black. It came to a close with a twist that you’ll have guessed and a hilarious explanatory scene, which had my partner and I grimacing. Following that, our room was like something from a Sergio Leone Western. All that was missing was a gust of wind and some tumbleweed. We looked at each other in silence and a state of shock. Perhaps it was only a bad dream? If only.

Quarantine this Camp on the double is my recommendation, I’m off to catch my train… (Crosses fingers)

Slasher Trappings:

Killer Guise: √

Gore: √

Final Girl: √

RATING: a-slash-above-logo-211

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