Trash F-Log

[Trash F-Log] Death Spa

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A haunted spa, Ken Foree dressed as Ali Baba, a blind[ed] woman forced to suck off asparagus.

Can’t say that Death Spa is good, I only managed eight minutes of it cos the dubbing was in Portuguese. But according to redlettermedia, the plot is nonsensical. The ghost of the dead wife is controlling the spa computer system yet most of the deaths are unrelated to that system.

Tiles flying out of the wall?

Maybe the ghost is using a combination of computer-possession + telekinesis?

Doesn’t sound that nonsensical to me.

But then I haven’t watched it.

Note: some of the pics are taken from The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, which I have seen, and fits quite smoothly into the mechanics of Death Spa.

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[Trash F-Log] Hologram Man

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Hologram Man or Digital Man.

I guess one is the American title, the other is for the international market, but I’m not sure which is which and don’t care enough to look it up.

Got about 40 minutes into this film before giving up and switching to the redlettermedia botw video instead. It filled in most of the gaps, and made me glad I didn’t continue. A latex suit to put over the hologram, sculpted by a scientist who could perfectly mimic stubble?

Slash Gallagher is a fantastic name for the villain though.

As for the piece I’ve written, it’s a story with another story on top, the superimposed one trying to become a murderer of the one beneath.

Just like Hologram Man and the latex suit human body.

The idea of higher text murdering lower text isn’t actually new to me, I did something similar in a long-form work called Deeper Red that I finished a while back, that I can hopefully place somewhere at some point, that I’ll probably end up putting up on here as a PDF.

Submitting to presses is a humiliation that keeps humiliating me consistently.

Whereas Psycho Holosuite almost never says no.

Okay, enough pathos, it’s time for Hologram Man.

My piece below, not the film.

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[Trash F-Log] Alienator

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An android hunter from outer space is about to create Hell on Earth!

So says the blurb.

What actually happens is a rebel leader about to be executed is rebranded as a sadistic psycho then escapes to a forest in New Jersey [maybe] and gets run over by four teens. Meanwhile, sadistic prison warden/hero, Jan Michael Vincent, calls up the android hunter from outer space to pursue him and, consequently, create Hell in that little forest section of Earth.

Never have I seen an actor as drunk as the Airwolf guy. It’s painful to listen to him speak.

The film itself is solid.

To be honest I’ve only watched the first 15 minutes of it.

It probably isn’t solid.

But it does have some interesting things to not say about intersubjectivity, and the re-territorialisation of the rebel leader in the context of the four teens i.e. injured stranger.

At least it does in my head.

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[Trash F-Log] Wicked World

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‘Now The Time Has Come To Unleash The Footage That Disturbed And Haunted It’s Very Own Creator…’

Made in 1991, buried by the director for not being up to standard, re-released in 2019 by Vinegar Syndrome [I think, not 100% sure], unwatched by me cos I couldn’t find it on YouTube, it’s Barry J Gillis’ Wicked World.

The guy who directed Things.

The redlettermedia vid on this is one of their best, mostly down to the bizarro material they have to work with here. A man in a gas mask standing in full view by a living room window, unnoticed by anyone, machine gun audio at a BBQ, psychiatrist with a death wish, I hate slides, this nurse is an idiot etc.

The editing looks insane.

Maybe on some level, it’s a work of genius.

The level of no one else could’ve made this thing and there is beauty in that.

Is it abstract enough though?

Was the director trying to make sense or trying to evade it in order to absorb the theme [blanket wickedness] completely?

Answers to barryhatesslides@hotmail.com.

Note: for those who are familiar with Chinese and can spot the Chinese characters in the images below, 咁 should be 有 but I’m too lazy to redo the whole sketch. Besides, mistakes can be beautiful.

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[Trash F-Log] Showdown

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‘I look into the eyes of Leo Fong and I see nothing but darkness.’ – Jay Bauman [with not bad German accent]

As usual, I can’t say Showdown is good, but it is entertaining, mostly cos of Leo Fong as drifter vigilante James Long and Werner Herzog as the biker gang leader.

Also, the ‘mafia retirement village as autonomous zone’ concept is insane.

Makes no sense whatsoever.

Note: it may be apparent from the constant namedrops of Count Menliff and Nevenka that I have also mixed in a bit of Mario Bava’s The Whip and the Body. No special reason, I was just watching it at the time and felt that it could offer something that my normal brain state wouldn’t pick up on.

A lot of my Trash F-log pieces work that way. Random collisions. It’s quite liberating. If you’re a writer, you should try it [if you’re not already].

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Not the moon nor

Czechia nor

Ancapistan nor

Chernarus

but an isolated castle on the Eastern European coast inside a small retirement village enfolded within multivalent Texas where the law looks several other ways cos those ways are village ruin porn and the other way is primeval biker gang led by the eldest son of down-on-his-luck Count Menliff who’s just back from a really disappointing crack deal.

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Atmos?

Down-on-his-luck Count Menliff is old and ritualised.

Everyone would.

The landscape is nobody.

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Inside the Count’s car [yap min] lies an explosive device that will allow him to dimension hop. His youngest son is in fact his daughter who loves him very much despite the down-ish luck and shack habitat that he is malting away in [ga ma]. She will not see the car implode. The cavalry is lost in a poor excuse for a supermarket.

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One day [itsuka], the retirement village wakes up mafia-shaped.

Microbe of kitsch, post-elderly, forgetters of how to garotte, gun is for white people dressed as Latino friend, enervated, drool all night, shit at cleaning.

Pathos?

Bones may be frail but

once

long ago [ho dor lin tsin]

they murdered for a living, for fun even, snuffing out bench-mensch with anionic detergent shots.

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[Trash F-Log] Cybernator

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Whole face acting, plastic shit in lieu of metal, final cyborg boss with easily grabbable weakness.

It’s Cybernator.

The film with a belly-dancer alley scene that’s quite well-lit juxtaposed with a strip bar that is a community centre version of The Slow Club.

I’m only two thirds of the way through Cybernator, actually, but I’ve seen enough to come up with the pic collage things below.

Nothing else to say really.

MC has a glued-on chest patch?

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[Trash F-Log] House II

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This one is a bit of a cheat as it’s not on the redlettermedia botw list, but, to me, is definitely trash.

How do you fuck up a temporally unmoored house story?

Why is the hero so bland, his sidekick so unfunny?

At one point, they rescue a virgin who’s about to be sacrificed by Aztecs in a Star Trek cave and after that language is just never a problem, even when the MC hooks up with her.

I do not like this film.

The scrawls below are way more than it deserves and those scrawls are shit.

It’s on YouTube if you’re interested.

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[Trash F-Log] Bigfoot Vs D B Cooper

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What can you say about this film except run?

As in there are a lot of running scenes. And walking scenes. And walking up stairs into a bedroom to pose with rifle in front of a Matisse painting.

Bigfoot turns up eventually, mauls a few of the gay porno guys.

No fucking though.

Shame.

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It’s a forest day

lugging for revenge

laying out the dolly track

beneath volatilised scriptwriter onomatope.

God, I love the fishery scene.

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A young, tanned man arrives at a remote lodge soaked in pornographic. His plan is to hunt with a miniature rifle. Only now there are four other young, tanned men standing on the front porch. Their plan is to hunt also. Topless with their bare hands. And later with a miniature rifle.

‘I will merge with you,’ says the first man.

The others demur.

Then acquiesce when demur turns on them.

Behind, the lodge calls out.

Jog, it says.

Merge and jog.

Merge, jog and-

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Inside the lodge is a director too proud to live within the walls.

But it is his house.

And he is willing to endure four separate scenes of each tanned receptacle walking up the stairs to a bedroom where they will take off their pants and masturbate to a reflected form.

The masturbation will not exist in the final cut.

Nor will the director and his leopard suit

fucking the short one with jaundice

that’s out for sure

cos I will never prune this thing, vows the director, retreating into the walls.

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[Trash F-Log] Verotika

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My face?

Not my face.

Why do you want my

Face?

No.

You can’t have it.

It’s my face.

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Brick warehouse has the gumption to just stand there as brick warehouse, barely disguised, barely French

petrified of the

neck bray-kurr

or so it’s told

but there is no neck

no great love for hosting this giallic yellow shit this frazzled-

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Danzig

as midget god

xeroxed a thousand times in Masonic head

kitsch with kitty litter

goes with mic pack on blondest victim’s calf

slips on Schrader skin and-

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