The Films of François Gaillard: The French Argento!

Gorehound Mike here and I got your passport to weird and wild cinema from around the globe! This brand new segment will look at little seen gems from around the world. To kick this off we not only are looking at a very talented up and coming director. This is part 1 of a 2 part series on his work.

The Films of François Gaillard: The French Argento Part 1

Title: Die Die My Darling

Short: 20mins

REVIEW: A mysterious sexy hit women enters a club to do thing she does best. Look damn good and kill!

Its clear from frame one that Gaillard has a keen cinematic eye, using interesting camera work and compositions that are stylish and remain me of the films of Bava and Argento (more evident on DSD,see below)
François also clearly knows his films. He cleverly sneaks in a "A CLOCKWORK ORANGE" reference, with one of the boss`s henchmen, which adds a really cool and fun touch.  The film is non stop kick ass fighting and Gaillard proves that he can handle a action driven story with flare and showmanship  And its always great to see a nazi stripper fighting a sexy hit women. Its taken just serious enough, without any campy after taste. The only thing wrong with this short film, Its not a full length feature!! Its Kill Bill vibe with a French flavor. A must see.

http://vimeo.com/29966629

Title: Dome Sweet Dome (Music Video) Artist EYR vs DOUBLE DRAGON

REVIEW: A stunning lady of the evening meets a client at a hotel, and what seems like a lust filled night of passion soon spirals into a nightmare of blood and missing male genital. This music video for the band
was my introduction to François Gaillard cinematic work. I was total in awe of the his grotesque and stylish work. His camera work is skillful and and stylish and like Die,Die shows a wonderful flare for interesting compositions and camera angles. The lighting during the intense love making scene is pure Argento using primary colors red and blue to light the scene. Its masterful. Another great nod to Dario is the use of eyes which is straight out of Profondo Rosso (Deep Red) Is he just stealing his style, well yes but lets not forget that Argento stole it from Mario Bava, so lets not judge. Point is he uses it well. When things get really messy in the video, it gets MESSY! Big shout out to David Scherer who did an amazing job with the special effects. Its rare for me to review a music video, but this is wonderful and would make a wonderful full length film.  I dont know if i`ve ever seen a more down right creepy music video in my life.

More coming soon!

Victim:

                                                                      Film: Victim
                                              Director: Matt Eskandari, Michael A. Pierce
                                                                       Year. 2010
                                                          Review by: Vincent Daemon

Well, our 100th post here at Gorehound Mike's Weird Cinema is this absolutely deplorable hunk of wasted celluoid. Actually, I would imagine it was filmed in digital and blahblahblah so I guess wasted giga-mega something, as opposed to celluoid. Anything not to have to remember watching this. And it's entirely my own fault, I can't blame Gorehound Mike for this one. I chose to watch this. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

The film opens shakey-cam p.o.v. style, the camera leering on some ditzy looking blonde chick, while the creep holding speaks in a distorted voice, not entirely unlike the infamous director Khan Tusion of the ultimately creepy and vile Meatholes series of adult films. Eventually he beats her to a pulp, and presumabley kills her.

Cut to a male underwear model-looking creepster chump (we'll call him GQ) drinking in some nightclub. He goes outside to leave and gets bludgeoned and attacked, knocked out cold. He wakes up in some dungeon and proceeds the receive more beatings. After 15 minutes of this we find he is being held hostage by some crazy doctor and his weird henchman Mr. George, who was the spitting image of a severely bloated Jason Statham. GQ is never told why he is there. While he is caged, recordings from weird 1950's female ettiquette records drone on incessantly in the background.

At this point I'm thinking "well, at least it's not boring" then . . . nothing happens. 8 minutes in I had figured out where this drec was going, for the most part. Any hopes I had of this being any kind of entertaining at all were wildly, carelessly trashed as this degenerated into a Lifetime: Moment Of Truth flick with it's staid production, off screen violence, wretched acting, and the addition of some nonsense CSI-type plotline involving the police.

The film trundles on, every minute feeling like 5, as we find out the Doc's daughter was the blonde girl in the beginning, and he wants to turn GQ into a female, to replace his daughter. Huh? Yeah. So comes more boring monologue from the good Doctor, more beatings from Mr. George, and a sudden, raging turn to near twink porn as GQ struggles and begs whilst bathed in certain eroticized lightings. I watched this with a friend, and she made that particular comment out loud. Eventually there is the penis removal (unseen), wherein the only decent line of the film is uttered from the Doc to Georgie: "No no Georgie, we need that to form the vagina."  Then come breast implants (the only gore in the film, it was quite graphic in the most laughable karo blood-n-latex sense). Then the clothing. The Doc dresses his new daughter in just the worst blue Wal Mart 10 pack sundresses you could imagine. For fuck's sake I have better taste in womens clothes than that.

In the last 10 minutes the film tries to regain what it did in the first 5 minutes, going right for some kind of weird hyper-sexualized extremity with a series of piss poor, ineffective and ultimately tacky rape and abuse scenes. They did throw one minor twist in there, in the last few seconds, that I didn't see coming. Meh. I coulda cared less by that point.

Ignore this film. Do not watch it. Look for anything these directors or writers have been involved in and boycott it. I plead with you to not give these buffoons any reason to make another film.

I did leave the room at one point, and came back in, asked my friend what I missed. Her response: "I was busy eating Cheerios and not giving a fuck." That simplistic statement says it all. Go eat some Cheerios or something constructive. This film is worth not one fuck that it contains.

Stay Sick, thanks for reading,

Vincent Daemon

---- Vincent Daemon's short fiction has appeared in 25 publications, and he just put his first short story collection together, Bury Me In A Nameless Grave. He is also editor of the annual Grave Demand magazine, as well as a freelance editor for hire in his down time, and occasionally performs with various punk/deathrock bands. Vincent can be found on facebook, and at his blog The Writings Of A Depraved Mind http://vincentdaemon.blogspot.com/?zx=c2884c7b8567b656 , and contacted atvdaemon13@gmail.com ---- 

Reefer Madness: It's Ok To Inhale

                                                              Film: Reefer Madness
                                                                      Year: 1936
                                                             Director: Louis Gasnier
                                                          Review by: Vincent Daemon

Reefer Madness is the notorious classic 1936 anti-pot propaganda film that plays out more like a comedy than anything else. This film is an absolute must see, at least once, for the true Weird Cinema (and marijuana) devotee.

The "facts" of this hyper-melodramatic tour de farce are so far off the meter of hilarity it's almost jaw-dropping at points. And, oddly enough, the film starts off talking about heroin and morphine. Go figure.

Enter a couple of degenerate weed dealers, male and female (and living together out of wedlock, a big no-no in 1936, even though they still apparently sleep in seperate beds). They make their living by spending their days and nights partying down all the kids in the neighborhood. By kids I mean high schoolers played by a cast of cardboard goons no younger than their early 30's, at best. He is all for it (selling to the youth), she is wholly against it but, hey, this is 1936 and what he says goes, dammit! Anyway, almost overnight they manage to turn a whole crew of people into raging, fiending, violent and sex crazed potheads. The tale ends in murder, a court room window jumping suicide, and a lifelong institutionalization. Funny stuff, truly.

Also, myself personally being an advocate for the reformation of marijuana laws, and a user both medicinally and recreationally, find most of what is portrayed here the classic stuff of misinformed legend. There was no fact involved, not in the vignettes, not in the unscience presented here. And, realistically, this was made as a propaganda scare film, by some christian church of some kind, and originally titled Tell Your Children. It eventually fell into the hands of early exploitation auteur Dwain Esper, who added some short, racier bits and released officially it as Reefer Madness.

The film is loaded with some of the most mind-bending dialogue I've ever heard. My favorite bit comes within the first few minutes, as the female lead is complaining that she doesn't want to sell to the kids. The male's response is, quite simply: "Why don't you button your lip? You're always squawking about something. You got more static than a radio." For whatever reason, I found this riotously funny, and figure I might as well add this to my dealing with the opposite sex repetoire. Hell, it could only help. I kid, of course. Kinda. But I digress. After he says that, the female's reaction is merely to hike up her skirt and very, very slowly pull up her thigh highs, and attach them to her garter belt (my favorite frame of the film, by the way). And there are several references to olive oil. Not Popeye's hideously bulemic waif, but actual olive oil. That one I couldn't quite wrap my head around.

So, if you haven't seen this, get on the ball, light one up, and do so. It's a good way to kill 67 minutes.

Thanks for reading.

Stay Sick,

Vincent Daemon

---- Vincent Daemon's short fiction has appeared in 25 publications, and he just put his first short story collection together, Bury Me In A Nameless Grave. He is also editor of the annual Grave Demand magazine, as well as a freelance editor for hire in his down time, and occasionally performs with various punk/deathrock bands. Vincent can be found on facebook, and at his blog The Writings Of A Depraved Mind http://vincentdaemon.blogspot.com/?zx=c2884c7b8567b656 , and contacted at vdaemon13@gmail.com ----

Chasing Sleep: The Title Says It All

                                                              Film: Chasing Sleep
                                                              Year: 2000
                                                              Director: Michael Walker
                                                              Review by: Vincent Daemon

Sometimes I think Gorehound Mike has it out for me. Seriously. When asked to review this film, he bestowed the vaguest of caveat's upon me: "Well, I tried to watch it but just couldn't get into it." Now, being as the Boss Man and I have some differing tastes on what we like within the genre, and our varying preferred subgenres, I paid this warning little mind.

Boy, was I wrong.

This endurance test comes to us from 2000 and stars Jeff Daniels. It's about a man, a "failed" writer-cum-college professor, who wakes up to find his wife missing. Sounds simple enough a premise, and it actually is. Throughout the course of the film he deals with emotionally flatlined law enforcement, a hot 90 lb student with seemingly alterior motives, and the slow shutdown of his own psyche. It all sounds far more interesting than ity really is.

Jeff Daniels wears his best and most confounded Dumb And Dumber-type facial expressions, and meanders mechanically confused, from scene to scene, never outwardly too upset about his missing wife. Every character he comes across, including himself, pops pills of varying kinds like they were pez. Throughout the course of all this we come to find that everyone he has encountered is essentially an hallucination (which continue in incresing absurdity, until the top-off involving a frightening and deformed grown human sized infant), and that he is batshit crazy and probably killed his wife. The end.

The filmmakers really try here, and that much is obvious. However, it's what they are trying to be that gets annoying. It all sort of comes off like a poor man's David Lynch. Some of the cinematography is interesting, but I had the film figured out within minutes. Lots of focus on plumbing, dripping pipes, etc., and I can't tell you why (spoiler reasons), but if you watch you'll figure it out pretty quick.

But what ultimately makes this film a fail is the brutally slow pacing, the ultra-flat acting (which may be deliberate at points, if not altogether so), and the fact that it really tries way too hard to be something different and, dare I say, artsy. In the end that all comes off as a fascade, and you are left with a bland and disappointed "oh" kind of feeling. Apparently this film won a couple of festival awards when released, and was nominated for several others. I remember 2000 (vaguely, anyway), and I remember the cinematic output being fairly subpar during that period. So who knows. Actually, this reminded me a lot of another similar (and far better) film from 2000 as well, Mark Hanlon's Buddy Boy, which I highly advise you go seek out and watch.

I cannot say the same here. For me, Chasing Sleep was slow. Endurance test slow. I saw what they were attempting to do, and how they try, so hard. But for me it just falls flat on every possible level. All in all, I'd have to give this a pass.

Thanks for reading.

Stay Sick,

Vincent Daemon

---- Vincent Daemon's short fiction has appeared in 25 publications, and he just put his first short story collection together, Bury Me In A Nameless Grave. He is also editor of the annual Grave Demand magazine, as well as a freelance editor for hire in his down time, and occasionally performs with various punk/deathrock bands. Vincent can be found on facebook, and at his blog The Writings Of A Depraved Mind http://vincentdaemon.blogspot.com/?zx=c2884c7b8567b656 , and contacted at vdaemon13@gmail.com ----

Gorehound Mike wants YOU to Sleep Tight!!

Title: Sleep Tight

Year: 2011

Director: Jaume Balaguero

Written by Gorehound Mike Vaughn

In 2007 Balaguero made a huge splash with fright lovers with his master piece of horror [REC] and its two sequels. Flash forward 2011 he brings us Sleep Tight, and folks you`ll sleep anything but after seeing this flick.

The film follows the life of Cesar a desk manager at a up scale apartment building. He always has a smile on his face. Turns out he is anything but the happy person that residents think he is, in fact he cant feel happiness at all. That is until he found a hobby that has brought meaning to his life. Stamp collecting,building models-no, his fun is making his ever happy tenant Clara miserable. With access to all the keys Cesar creeps into her apt at night. At first its small things like messing with her skin cream but soon it escalates to more disturbing things. In addition to breaking into her home he has been sending her dozens of strange love letters and daily text messages. But when Clara remains happy even through Cesars torment, he decides to step up his game, with deadly consequences. After its all through nobody will be sleeping tight.

Wow I was totally blown away. Like [REC] Jaume Balaguero has weaved a masterful story of terror and suspense. He takes the moments when we are most vulnerable like alone and sleeping and creates a walking nightmare of dread and sexual perversion.  I love how Jaume plays with the old childhood fear of the boogeyman under the bed which takes on a whole new meaning in Sleep Tight.

Cesar is the ultimate sociopath, he takes the power and the trust he is given and perverts it to his own sick ends.  The most disturbing thing is, hes not a snarling raving maniac-he could be anyone. Like Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver Cesar is a alienated loner who us the audience watch spiral into a void of blackness of his own creation. Jaume is wise is not making him sympathetic. There is no feeling sorry for Cesar, he is a monster plain and simple.

Major credit goes out to Alberto Marini for writing a skin crawling screenplay that is both believable and well balanced. He knows how to just go far enough without getting silly or too over the top. His characters are fleshed out and the story is gripping from beginning to the pulse pounding ending.

If I had to pick one subtle yet disturbing moment it would be the final meeting between Luis character Cesar and Veronica (played wonderfully by Petra Martinez) What starts out as a friendly exchange turns into him totally mentally breaking her down, all with maintaining a calm and cold disputation.  It echoes the need that he has to suck all the joy out of someones life in order to give him pleasure.  I just cant say enough good things about this extremely well written screenplay.

Friendly tenant Veronica is crushed by heartless Cesar. 

Whats a great script if you dont have the actors to bring it to life? Well it just so happens that cast is settler! Luis Tosar and Marta Etura play Cesar and Clara. Both are already well respected and established actors. Tosar walks a razor edge of normal guy and psychopath and really makes it believable. Not to be out down Etura turns in a well acted and subtle performance as Clara, Cesar`s victim. They both basically carry the entire production and do it brilliantly. Supporting actress Petra Martinez (Bad Education) has a small but well acted role as a elderly tenant with dogs.

Jaume Balaguero already proved himself to be a force to be reckoned with in the horror genre and with Sleep Tight I hope hes here to stay. It just goes to show you that to make a disturbing film you don't need gimmicks or gallons of blood and guts, just a smart suspenseful script filled with well rounded complex characters. This film will not only gets under the covers but it`ll get under your skin and not leave for days. So "sleep tight" don't let the creepy bald guy bite!!

The Gardener: Green thumb up its own ass!

HELLOOOO

GRAB A SHOVEL AND DIG UP A FRIEND!!!

Gorehound Mike here. I was just in the back of the castle planting some Venus fly traps for those pesky children snooping around. Yes you didn't know I had a green thumb did you?

Title: The Gardener aka Seeds of Evil aka Garden of Death

Year: 1974

Director: James H. Kay







Gardens and evil, the two don't really seem to fit one another. But it being a strange concept, and being one for the weird and the wild I thought why not.So i took a frolic in the garden of sinful delights.

Well folks it was not a delight in the least.

A rich couple living in South America hire a gardener to spruce there sparring estate.  They hire a shirtless gardener named Carl (Joe Dallesandro) to do the job. Soon things start growing in rapid speed, almost in a supernatural way. But soon things start growing between the gardener and the lady of the house Ellen (Katharine Houghton) and a budding flirtation goes on. Things get strange when Ellen finds out that everyone who hired Carl is no pushing up daisies. Even the help try and warn her that something is wrong with him. What is the evil secret that the gardener is hiding.

I`ve done it! I discovered the cure for sleeplessness! Its not in pill nor drink form. Just pop this film in and you`ll be soon on your way to dream land. Yes its that dull.  I mean I was out like a light half way through the second act. The film takes itself way to serious and is played out like a soap opera rather then a horror film. I mean its a horror film,there should be a certain level of fun. It does take a certain amount of balls to say, look im going to take something harmless and pretty like flowers and make a horror movie around it. I would have given anything to have been at this pitch session. So with this concept was this film doomed to fail? Actually I think not. With the right writers this could have been a weird little gem and a cool concept.
The violence is as tame as the flowers themselves so don't expect too much gore and mayhem. And the effects are cheesy as you`d might expect.

The cast is not stellar either. With the only real "stars" being Joe Dallesandro (who I admit is main reason why I even rented this flick,aside from the strange plot) and Katharine Houghton (Katherine Hepburns niece)


Oh Joe I do love you in films but face it, your terrible.

When I think of a good sinister character actors many names come to mind, but little Joe is not one of them and that also hurts this film. He`s just screen beef cake plain and simple. He does have a nude scene but of course you don't see anything.
 If screen eye candy is what the filmmaker wanted, it was what they got.

The rest of the cast is just lackluster and they seem like they are are struggling to get through it,but given the uninspired script they had to work with its no wonder.

In the giant cinematic garden there is so much to choose from. This my friends is not one i`d run out and see. This film doesn't even have campy dime store charm, which is what normally saves these kind of Z-grade films.

If your looking for fresh flowers you might be disappointed, because all you`ll end of picking is a bunch of weeds, not unlike what you`d need to be on to make it through this film.

Ohhhh look my fly trap already got a girl scout.

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