Goth (Brad Sykes, 2003)

On the third occasion when Goth introduces herself to a Goth couple by saying, "Hi. I'm Goth," and the Goth couple respond, "So are we," I threw my hands up in mock surrender. Meaning, despite this films numerous flaws, I can't stay mad at a film that is this Goth. I know, you're thinking to yourself: Oh, Yum-Yum. You of all people should know that this film, written and directed by Brad Sykes, isn't Goth. For starters, it's directed by a guy named "Brad" (the least Goth name, like, ever). I see where you're coming from, my black clad friend. But I've recently decided that labels like, "Goth" and "Industrial" and others like, "Mathcore," "Liberal" and "Aggrotech" are pretty much meaningless. Seriously, what is Goth? Well, according Goth (Phoebe Dollar), the lead character in the aptly named Goth, in order to be truly Goth, you need to follow the three rules of Goth. Since there might be a handful of you out there who don't know what these rules are, I'll go ahead and list them. And they are: 1. Embrace the darkness. 2. Kill your fears. And 3. Live for death. Follow these three simple rules and you'll be well on your way to being a better Goth in no time. Of course, it doesn't hurt that to have a kind of "Goth Whisperer" to help guide you on your journey to becoming the Goth you've always wanted to be. Personally, I want to be a skinny-armed Goth princess... but that's, um, a different kettle of onion rings all-together.

Just for the record, I've never heard of any these so-called "Goth rules." Maybe because I never had a "Goth Whisperer." But did I really need one? I mean, I own Christian Death's first two albums and "First and Last and Always" by The Sisters of Mercy for criminy's sake. In other words, what else do I need? Okay, owning a pair of pointy buckle boots would be a start. But other than that...

According to Goth, Goth is more about attitude than fashion and music. Actually, she seems also to think that sex, drugs and murder are the keys to being Goth. And she foists this sinful trifecta into the PVC-slathered laps of two Goth posers named Crissy (Laura Reilly) and Boone (Dave Stann) at a Goth concert.

I will say this about Goth's approach to Goth, it re-injects an aspect of danger into the Goth subculture. Hampered by the barf-inducing whimsy of some of Tim Burton's lame-ass movies and the Evanescencification of the scene in general, I think Goth has lost its way in recent years. While I think stabbing people with knives is totally uncool, I think drug abuse and kinky sex are acceptable... in moderation of course.

Personally, I think Goths should subsist on a steady diet of Coil albums and the films of Rinse Dream. But that's just me.

Meeting, like I said, Crissy (black lip stick/purple streak in her hair) and Boone (black lipstick/mesh tank top), at a Goth club, Goth offers to give the couple a sneak preview of new drug called "White Light." While waiting for Goth to show up with the drugs she promised, Crissy and Boone are confronted behind the club by a couple of muggers. Not to worry, though, Goth makes short work of the muggers just as they were about to rape Crissy (they switched from being muggers to rapists when they realized they didn't have any money).

In case you're wondering, Goth is wearing black boots, a red leather skirt and a black PVC top. She also has a funky forehead tattoo and the word "Goth" tattooed on her chest. And she made "short work" of the muggers/rapists by employing the three Goth rules I mentioned earlier. I can't believe owning a pair of pointy buckle shoes and/or boots isn't one of the rules. Weird. But then again, I don't think pointy shoes and/or boots would have helped Goth against the muggers/rapists.

After doing a couple of lines of White Light, Crissy and Boone wake up in the back of Goth's van. Adorned with skulls, red lights and Goth band flyers, Crissy and Boone are obviously still trippin' balls something fierce.

Oh, and when Crissy is reluctant to snort the White Light, Goth throws this gem her way: "I thought you were Goth." Actually, that line sums up this movie in a nutshell. The whole movie is basically Goth telling Crissy and Boone they're not Goth if they don't do what she says.

You can't really blame her for thinking that way. Other than Siouxsie Sioux and Rozz Williams, I don't think there's ever been anyone more Goth than Phoebe Dollar. You can complain about this film's low budget and suspect acting as much as you want, but there's no way you can deny that Phoebe Dollar isn't Goth. Hell, she oozes Goth from every orifice (eww).

Having to settle with seeing her languish in dinky roles in movies like, Werewolf in a Women's Prison and Rat Scratch Fever, I was pleased to finally see that a movie that allowed Phoebe Dollar to display her talent as an actress. She utters the bulk of the film's dialogue and is on screen pretty much the whole time. So, if you're like me, and desperately need more Phoebe Dollar in your life, Goth is the movie for you.

The film itself isn't that bad, either. The soundtrack is wall-to-wall industrial rock and the score features pounding synths of the creepy variety. The gore is okay (the members of an indoor heterosexual hootenanny spit copious amounts of blood after being repeatedly stabbed with a knife wielded by a Goth). They mention the word "Goth" at least fifty times. And the chubby redhead Boone is "forced" to bone during the massage parlor scene was sexy as hell (she was wearing a PVC garter belt!!!!).

Though, I have to wonder: Who was driving Goth's van? They never reveal who the driver was. Wouldn't it have been cool if, say, Robert Smith was the one driving. Or maybe Peter Murphy. Or Andrew Eldritch. Or... well, you get the idea. Oooh, Patricia Morrison and David Vanian! Anyway, talk about a missed opportunity.

Rat Scratch Fever (Jeff Leroy, 2011)

What would you rather see destroyed by an army of giant rats from outer-space: A computer-generated version of Los Angeles, or a model version of Los Angeles? While you're thinking about your answer, let me tell you which one I would rather see. Put me down for the model version. Why? It's simple, really. The model version is actually destroyed. Sure, it might not look all that realistic. But for all intents and purposes, the version of L.A. being wiped out in Rat Scratch Fever appeared as if it took quite a pounding. Whereas, the computer generated version is basically not even there. In other words, nothing is really at risk. And, if nothing is at risk, why am I watching? What I think I'm trying to say is, I appreciated the amount effort filmmaker Jeffy Leroy (Werewolf in a Woman's Prison) clearly made to recreate the mayhem that would most definitely occur if giant space rats did in fact attack Los Angeles (via Griffith Park) using nothing but practical effects. And one of the best practical effects employed in this movie are the miniatures. With the exception of the truck the male lead drives, the majority of the vehicles driven in this film were remote control models. You mean, toys? I guess you could call them "toys." But from where I was sitting, they looked like fully-functional mobile rocket launchers and radar systems. Now, some might be surprised to hear me talk about a film from a special effects point of view–you know, since I usually to prefer to spend my time highlighting a film's human element. However, this film is different, in that it tries to emulate your typical big budget sci-fi action movie. Only problem being, they obviously don't have anything close to resembling the budget of a big budget sci-fi action movie.

Yet, that doesn't seem to stop Jeff Leroy, who takes elements from Alien, Lifeforce, Night of the Living Dead, The Wild Bunch, Godzilla, and Rats: Night of Terror and mixes it together with his own unique brand of gore-based action to manufacture something truly special.

It's true, the buildings and the vehicles might be models, but there's nothing artificial about the people that populate this rat-infested universe. Which reminds me, the rats were mostly real as well. "Mostly," because rat puppets were no doubt used during the scenes where the rats needed to get up close and personal with their human victims. But in every other instance, the rats were real. And according to end credits, no rats were harmed during the making of this motion picture. If that's correct, then it's one of them minor miracle thingies, as the amount shit that is blown up in this movie while adjacent to live rats is off the charts.

The city of Los Angeles is still standing when Rat Scratch Fever gets underway, as we're immediately dropped onto Planet X, a rogue planet that is apparently orbiting all rogue-like near Mars. On this so-called rogue planet, a group of astronauts are busy being chased by giant rats with large, glowing red eyes. Little by little, their ranks are decimated by the seemingly unending wave of blood-thirsty rats. If you're wondering why the rats–except for the fact that their huge and their eyes glow and junk–look exactly like the rats we have on Earth, that will be explained later on in the film.

In the meantime, an astronaut named Sonja (Tasha Tacosa) is the lone survivor. Somehow able to get back to the ship in one piece, Sonja blasts off, leaving the rat-infested planet behind. A bit of a snag occurs when a dozen or so baby rats (i.e. regular-size rats) manage to sneak abroad the ship. One, in fact, does more than sneak aboard the ship, it scurries up Sonja's pant leg and makes her cozy vagina its new home away from home. Or, I should say, its new... Don't go there. Go where? I know what you were going to do. You were about to use the c-word. What? That's kooky talk. No, I know you. Call me crazy, but I could see the c-word rising in your loins. Well, can I still use the c-word? Sure, go ahead. But make it quick.

A resourceful rat manages to swoop into Sonja's cozy vagina, making the calamitous crevice its new home away from home, or, I should say, its new cunt away from cunt. [Nailed it.]

Just in case some us were having doubts as to what Tasha Tacosa's name is in this film, the always alluring Phoebe Dollar says, "This is ground control to Sonja. Come in, Sonja. Can you read? Come in, Sonja," over and over again. Now, some might say this was a tad on the gratuitous side. I, on other hand, appreciate it when a character's name is uttered ad nauseum, as it lessons the chances that I will forget it at a later date. Anyway, the reason the always alluring Phoebe Dollar is trying to contact Sonja is because she works as some sort of communications expert for Steel Space Corporation, an independently run space program with a base just outside of Los Angeles. The "Steel," by the way, in Steel Space Corporation is Dr. Steel (Randal Malone), a cyborg who literally runs things with an iron fist.

Instructing his ground control crew, including the always alluring Phoebe Dollar, to destroy Sonja's craft, which is about to enter Earth's atmosphere. When their efforts to destroy the craft fail, Dr. Steel orders his mobile rocket launchers to blow it out of the sky. This, of course, upsets Sonja's boyfriend, Jake Walsh (Ford Austin), an ex-special ops...guy, who doesn't want to see his girlfriend killed and junk.

Determined to prevent Sonja from infecting Earth with whatever weird disease she might have picked up on Planet X, Dr. Steel throws everything he's got at her wayward spaceship. Unfortunately, Sonja manages to evade the missiles, and hops in an escape pod before her ship crashes into the S.S.C. command centre. While Dr. Steel is angry by this turn of events, Jake Walsh couldn't be more pleased. Little does Jake know that the downfall of the human race is about to get underway, and his girlfriend is the catalyst.

If you remember correctly, Sonja is carrying space rats in her cozy vagina. Actually, they're not in her cozy vagina anymore. They're slowly making their way up to Sonja's brain. Trapped in the arid, extra dry underbrush located near the S.S.C. command centre with intergalactic space rats burrowing their way through her intestinal tract, Sonja struggles to survive as she is pursued by Dr. Steel's mobile rocket launchers.

It would seem that the space rats want her to survive as well. During a moment of hopelessness, Sonja tries to commit suicide by shooting herself in the head using the gun that used to belong to one of them mobile rocket launcher guys (she ripped out his throat with her teeth). Unfortunately, the bullet, while creating a massive hole, fails to kill her. That's right, it looks like the space rats will be the one's deciding when Sonja dies.

While the always alluring Phoebe Dollar–whose character has since joined the hunt for Sonja–is hands down the film's most attractive cast member, I found myself bewitched by Tasha Tacosa's dynamic face. Given the fact that Jeff Leroy's camera is constantly all up in her dynamic grill for the duration of the film's arid, extra dry chase sequences, it's no wonder this bewitchment occurred. But still, the way her dynamic face was shot in Rat Scratch Fever turned out to be my favourite non-miniature aspect.

Speaking of miniatures, the battle between Sonja, who has commandeered a mobile rocket launcher truck and is now sporting a jaunty S.S.C. cap (she can't walk around with the back of her head blown off), and the mobile rocket launcher trucks still under Dr. Steel's command is pretty fucking cool.

Even though this space rat controlled version Sonja proves she can handle herself, Jake Walsh eventually comes to rescue her from Dr. Steel's goons. Hey, don't call the always alluring Phoebe Dollar a "goon." How about "henchpeople"? Henchpeople, eh? Yeah, that will do. Taking her to "Sonja's Place," a bar Jake plans to open in honour of Sonja (I liked how the name of the bar is on the inside of the door - I guess it's to remind the drunks of where they had just been drinking as they stagger out of the place). Unaware that Sonja's brain is filled with space rats, or that she's missing the back, and some of the side, of her head, Jake does everything he can to make her stay at Sonja's Place as comfortable as possible.

If  Sonja's face wasn't so damned dynamic, I would start to doubt Jake's sanity, as his devotion to her is Wiseau-esque. However, before you give him "The Boyfriend of the Year Award," remember this, he's the one who pretty much dooms humanity. And that's the message I ultimately took from this film. Never underestimate the power of love. Even when it involves red-eyed rats from outer-space living inside your girlfriend's cozy vagina/brain. When Jake finally realizes the error of his ways, it's too late, as Los Angeles is overrun with giant rats. The sight of the rats running wild across L.A. is an excellent metaphor something. What that metaphor is exactly is anybody's guess. Either way, Rat Scratch Fever is a celebration of old school monster movie mayhem. Oh, and it should go without saying, but I want more Phoebe Dollar; and this film didn't have enough of her to satisfy my hunger for the always alluring enchantress/actress.

video uploaded by Jeff Leroy

Werewolf in a Women's Prison (Jeff Leroy, 2006)

Hey, you. Yeah, you. Come here. Go away. You, come here. Go away. Go away. Come here. No, seriously. Come here. Do you like movies about werewolves? What am I saying? Of course you do. What about women in prison flicks, do they scratch your fancy and tickle your itch? Judging by the intensity of your nodding motions, I'll take that as a yes. Well, I have sort of good news for you. Someone finally decided to get off their hairy ass and make a werewolf in a women's prison movie. Oh, and if you're wondering what this werewolf in a women's prison masterpiece is called, wonder no more. It goes by the ingenious name: Werewolf in a Women's Prison. I know, pretty clever, eh? Actually, now that I think about it, I don't really have to type anymore words. It's all there. Where, you ask? Just read the film's title aloud, and you're already halfway to comprehension town. You're probably thinking to yourself, aren't you worried that your imaginary boss is going to get upset by the lack of words? Not at all. The cool thing about having an imaginary boss is that they're imaginary. In other words, you don't have to listen to a word they say. Why? Well, for one thing, they're not real. But don't worry, I'll think of something to say. Sure, everything you need to know about Werewolf in a Women's Prison can be found within its straightforward title. But you don't think I'm going let Eva Derrek's shapely nooks and Phoebe Dollar's dynamic crannies wiggle through my steely grasp without getting the lavish tongue bath they so rightly deserve? I don't think so. Speaking of tongue baths, you don't think I'm going to let the tongue bath scene off the hook when it comes time to dole out praise? You'd be a fool to think otherwise. Besides, while there's so much less to this film than meets the eye, there's also so much more. 
 

 

You might have noticed, or you might not have noticed all-together, what do I know, that I said, "sort of good news," as supposed to saying just "good news," when referring to the existence of this genre mash-up from writer-director Jeff Leroy and writer Vinnie Bilancio. Well, that's because the film doesn't quite live up to its title. Don't get me wrong, the film has its Jess Franco in the right place, it's just that I'm not a big fan of digital splatter. I like my stockings tight, my green tea lukewarm, and I like my arterial spray to be practical. Meaning, every time I saw gore that was obviously rendered using one of them newfangled computers, I slowly felt myself being sucked out of the picture.
 

 

That being said, the werewolf was a guy in a suit and the women were completely natural. Yep, the werewolf has real fur and the women have real breasts (yes, I'm leering at you, Yurizan Beltrán). Funny, I could have sworn I heard someone yell, "Hallelujah," as I typed the part of about the breasts being real. There it is again. Someone just shouted "Hallelujah." It would seem that whenever I put the words "real" and "breasts" in the same sentence, that's what I hear. And, I must say, as a stem enthusiast, it's fucking annoying.
 

 

Keep your ugly fuckin' goldbrickin' booby-lovin' ass out of my leg appreciating beach community.
 

 

Now that I got that out of the way, welcome to Campuna! Come for the camping, stay for the confined cunnilingus. And a youngish couple, Sarah Ragdale (Victoria de Mare) and Jack (Vinnie Bilancio) have done just that. Except, nowhere in the brochure does it say anything about being attacked by werewolves. It's too bad they didn't heed the warning of that gas station employee they mocked openly during a moment of pre-coitus levity, because they're about to regret the day they ever decided come to Campuna.

 

 

Attacked by a werewolf while investigating a noise outside their tent, Jack is brutally mauled. Leaving Sarah to fend for herself, she unwittingly manages to kill the beast by dousing it with vodka that's been laced with silver flakes and setting it alight. And, as we all know, werewolves are deathly allergic to silver.
 

 

Unfortunately, she was bitten on the shoulder during the altercation with the werewolf, and eventually passes out. Where do you think Sarah wakes up? Welcome to Campuna Prison. Come for the confined cunnilingus, stay for the...actually, confined cunnilingus is the only thing on the menu in this joint, so, it looks like you're coming and staying for the confined cunnilingus.
 

 

Damn, girl. I wish I could wake up tied to a metal table, bloody and bruised, and still have lips to die for. What am I babbling about? Yo, V.I.P., check out Victoria de Mare's lips during the metal table scene, they're freaking fabulous. I wonder what the exact name of that particular shade of pinkish red is? I wonder if she mentions the colour on the DVD commentary track? I wonder the stupidest shit sometimes. By the way, the reason Sarah Ragdale is tied to a metal table is because the authorities think she killed Jack. Okay, that makes sense. But why is Mistress Rita (Jackeline Olivier) rubbing Sarah's nipples and manhandling her thighs? You're obviously not from around these parts. It's a traditional Campunian greeting. Just kidding, Rita likes to feel up chicks; it's kind of her thing.
 

 

Slapping a ball gag over her mouth, Rita takes Sarah, who, besides the ball gag (I hope it doesn't ruin her lipstick), is wearing nothing but a white thong and these cute little ankle socks, to see Juan the warden (Domiziano Archangeli). After her attempt to convince them that a werewolf killed Jack goes nowhere, Sarah demands that she see a lawyer. This request is met with laughter and prankish derision, and she is taken to her cell.
 

 

Oh, I almost forgot, before being taken to her cell, Mistress Rita takes some pictures of Sarah picking up coins in nothing but a pair of skimpy jean shorts for her website, prisongirlsgonebad.com.
 

 

As an inmate named Angel (Meredith Salenger) is being felt up by Rita (seriously, feeling up chicks is her thing) for cigarettes, Sarah bonds with her leggy roommate, Rachel (Eva Derrek, Miss Germany International 2002).
 

 

Remember when I said that Werewolf in a Women's Prison had its Jess Franco in the right place? Well, it's also got its John Landis in the right place. Using the similar storytelling technique employed in John Landis' An American Werewolf in London, they have a bloodied Jack visit Sarah every so often to give her advice on how to handle "the curse."     
 

 

Ignoring his advice, Sarah shows the first signs of "the curse" when she discovers that her bite wound has already healed. The next comes when she confronts the Eva Derrek-esque Crystal (Kristan Zaik) and her goons, including Serina (Berna Roberts), in the prison's courtyard after they start to harass Rachel. Tossing them aside like they weren't even there, Sarah makes short work of them. Eventually tranquilized by a guard named Garcia (the Krumholtzian Neto DePaula Pimenta), Sarah and Rachel are punished.
 

 

Please tell me that their punishment involves being chained in the desert and forced to wear nothing but a pair of white panties? It does. Yes! And not only that, to survive, Sarah and Rachel resort to licking each other's sweat. This movie not only has its Jess Franco and its John Landis in the right place, it has its reticulated crotch in the right place as well.
 

 

It's only a matter of time before Sarah goes on a killing spree (there's a full moon tonight), and when she does so, it's a cornucopia of flesh-tearing ghastliness. It's hard to put my finger on my favourite gore effect during this orgy of violence, as they're all awesome (even the scene where Sindy Lange is torn in half). But if I had to choose one, it would be the part where they implied that the scumbag who the warden let rape Rachel (who is chained to a pole) continued to thrust long after his head had been removed by Sarah's shewolf. What can I say? I'm a big fan of scenes where men are killed during sex. I like how their dead bodies desperately try to continue thrusting like nothing ever happened.
 

 

I'll admit, I started to lose interest in the film the moment Sarah and Rachel attempt to flee the prison. But that always seems to occur when I watch women in prison films. I guess I get so used to the characters being confined, that I can't quite adjust to them being in the outside world; the same thing happens whenever I watch Logan's Run. Thankfully, they're captured by The Badger (Al Burke) and brought back to the prison. In case you're wondering, the reason Juan the warden doesn't kill Sarah is because he wants to make money off her affliction–you know, Welcome to Campuna Prison. Come for the confined cunnilingus, stay for the werewolf women.
 

 

Even though I thought Victoria de Mare and Eva Derrek were amazing as the film's two leads (the latter actually reminded me of Rosalba Neri - I know, that's high praise), I couldn't keep my eyes off Phoebe Dollar as "Maria," a.k.a. Girl with Chain. Since the prison population was decimated by Sarah's rampage, Juan the warden decides to replenish the ranks. And that's where Phoebe Dollar comes in. Brought into the prison with two other women, Charlene Harding and Natalie Stone, Phoebe Dollar sort of just stands around at first. But I knew she had something the moment I saw her. And she proves I wasn't wrong when she attempts to take on Sarah's werewolf armed only with a chain.
 

 

Now, her confrontation with the Sarah's werewolf doesn't quite live up to the hype (the way the director builds up the tension surrounding their showdown was a bit of a letdown), but Phoebe Dollar does get several close-ups. And judging by what I saw during these close-ups, I think it's safe to say that I want more Phoebe Dollar in my life.

video uploaded by Jeff Leroy