Fantom Kiler 4 (Roman Nowicki, 2008)

As I sat down to watch Fantom Kiler 4, I made sure to check that my critical knives were properly sharpened before doing so. Feeling guilty over the fact that I had unnecessarily subjected myself to Fantom Kiler 2 and Fantom Kiler 3 (the first Fantom Kiler was a distant memory, as I had watched it more than fifty menstrual cycles ago), I was in a foul mood going into the fourth film in the Roman Nowicki-directed extreme erotic horror franchise. I know, you're thinking to yourself: Then why watch the fourth film if that's the way you feel? Well, you see, if I had stopped after the second film, that would have been all right. But once I made it through the third film, I felt contractually obligated to finish the series. And finish it I did. Call me misguided and sad, but I felt a weird sense of accomplishment when the end credits for part four began to roll. I would even go as far as to say that I bet the sensation you get after watching all four films in the Fantom Kiler series is similar to the sensation mountain climbers experience when they reach the top of Mount Everest. Am I serious? Let me ponder that for a minute. You know what? I am serious. Both are physically and mentally demanding. And both take a ton of skill and a shitload of daring. Oh, sure, Mount Everest is tad more dangerous (as the recent headlines can attest), but can a mountain give you an erection? That's right, it can't. And you wanna know why it can't? It boasts no leggy Polish or Czech chicks whatsoever. None. Nada. Zippo. Zilch. Have I checked? No, I have not checked. But trust me, there are no leggy Polish or Czech chicks to be found on Mount Everest.

(I guess you're going to tell me that Fantom Kiler 4 is replete with leggy Polish and Czech chicks, am I right?) You're not only right, you're correct too.

The real reason I slogged through Fantom Kiler 2 and Fantom Kiler 3 had nothing to do with being "contractually obligated" or even for the sense of accomplishment it would no doubt bring me. No, sir, the real reason had everything to do with the fact that Fantom Kiler 4 stars the one and only Hana Liska. As I watched the so-called actresses from the previous three films stink up the joint something fierce with their lack of charisma and their oiled up fake breasts, the thought that the beguiling Hana Liska would be coming along soon or later to teach these no talent hosebeasts a thing or two about screen presence gently buttered my aura with a sense of languid anticipation.

Just the mere thought that Hana Liska's unique brand of everything was about to kick me in the taint was what got me through the cinematic nightmare that was the experience of watching the first three chapters.

(Hold on, man, "unique brand of everything," what the hell does that mean?) If you remember what I wrote about Hana Liska's performance in Mark of the Whip, then you'll know that Hana Liska doesn't behave in an orthodox manner (she doesn't have an orthodox bone in her body). Whether she's walking, talking, sleeping, or just plain sitting still, Hana Liska puts her own unique twist on almost everything she does. In fact, I would go as far as to say that Hana Liska is unlike any human being who has ever lived.

You'll notice immediately that isn't your typical Fantom Kiler flick. How so? Well, for one thing, it starts off outside. I know, all the films in the series technically take place "outside," but this one really takes place outside. And get this, I can totally see the sky! Anyway, a prostitute named, oh, let's call her, Pani Piegi (Pavla Nicole), opens her leather coat to reveal that she is wearing nothing under it. Flashing her naked pussy at a punter named, oh, let's call him, Zbigniew (Andrej Krupa), Pani Piegi tells him that she's sure he can afford her.

Things get rough right from the get-go, as Zbigniew drags Pani Piegi into the woods and proceeds to insert his erect penis into her butthole. As he's about to do this, Pani Piegi tells him, "I don't do anal," to which Zbigniew quickly replies, "You do now." Oh, Zbigniew.

After suffocating Pani Piegi with a plastic bag and expelling lepki jizz all over her neck and face, Zbigniew pulls out his knife and prepares to cut off her labia (he wants it as a trophy), when, all of a sudden, Pani Piegi springs to life and proceeds to stomp the hell out of his patetyczny genitals.

Running after Pani Piegi, who has taken off into the woods, Zbigniew throws his knife at her. Barely missing her, Pani Piegi decides to throw the knife back. Hitting him in the hand at such a velocity that it causes him to become stuck to a tree, Pani Piegi is able to give Zbigniew a few knuckle sandwiches without fear of reprisals. Telling him that she's going to cut off his penis, Pani... (Wait, how can Pani Piegi cut off his penis? If she removes the knife from his hand, won't Zbigniew will be able to resist?) Ah, you didn't let me finish. You see, Pani Piegi has a surprise hidden in her rectum. Now, I don't know how Zbigniew wasn't able to feel this surprise when his erect penis was poking around in there five minutes earlier, but Pani Piegi pulls out a straight razor from her ass.

As Pani Piegi began to gingerly extract the straight razor from her not-so chocolate-coloured chocolate starfish, I started bouncing off the walls like a deranged mental patient who has just discovered the walls of their cell are padded. The sight of Pani Piegi using the straight razor she had hidden in her rectum to cut off Zbigniew's penis was the most awesome thing I've seen in years.

My advice to Pani Piegi: Take the straight razor, leave the severed penis. Tossing Zbigniew's penis in the bushes like the rape-facilitating piece of garbage that it is, Pani Piegi wanders off. Oh, and if you this is the last we're going to hear from Zbigniew's penis, think again. It will take more than getting sliced off and chucked in the bushes to keep Zbigniew's penis from exploring new and exciting vaginal, oral and anal passageways.

Trust me, what I just said will make sense in the coming moments. In the meantime, Pani Piegi is confronted by a faceless man dressed all in black in a corn field. Before you yawn, I should tell you, the faceless man in black is chasing Pani Piegi in a combine havester. When the faceless man knocks Pani Piegi unconscious, she dreams that she is being penetrated by a purple dildo that is being wielded by her girlfriend. In reality, though, the faceless man dressed in all black is raping her with an ear of corn.

Meanwhile, back in the woods, the cops find Zbigniew's dead body right where Pani Piegi left him. And you know what that means? Enter the gorgeous Inspector Sylvia Nowak (Hana Liska), Poland's best and leggiest lady detektyw. "Have you found his dick yet?," she asks the officers on the scene. As she's noticing something in the woods (a shadowy figure dressed in black), someone shoves Zbigniew's severed cock in her face.

While chatting with her boss, Barabara Rynkowska (Maria Vaslova), outside police headquarters, Inspector Nowak is told that Officer Stella Green (Dionne) can't be trusted with evidence, and, on top of that, she's a nymphomaniac.

(Oh, no, don't tell me, Officer Stella Green is in charge of Zbigniew's severed cock, isn't she?) Yep. When Officer Stella Green, who's in her office (dig the Soviet flag on the wall), holds Zbigniew's severed penis aloft in its evidence bag, she says, "Okay. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yes. Cut. Yes. Oh, you poor thing. So nice penis. Fuck." It was at this moment that I realized that Roman Nowicki's decision to have his actors speak English was the correct one. You see, in the previous chapters of the Fantom Kiler series, all the dialogue was a bizarre mishmash of Polish, Czech and Russian. But now every line is spoken in an endearing form of broken English.

Anyway, taking Zbigniew's severed "so nice penis" out of its evidence baggy, Officer Stella Green proceeds to examine it carefully. Removing her seksowny Polish police uniform, Officer Stella Green, whose eyeshadow matches her bra and panties, hops on her desk (which naturally has a bottle of J+B scotch on it) and starts to insert his severed penis into her vagina. While I thought the prop department could have probably done a better job finding a more realistic-looking severed penis, kudos to them, nonetheless, for at least making the part of the penis where it was severed to appear somewhat bloody.

While Hana Liska is definitely the sexiest, most alluring woman in the Fantom Kiler universe, Dionne is no slouch, as her body is amazing (all-natural, baby). Just down the hall, Barbara Rynkowska is scolding the painter who was hired to paint her office. Check this out, instead of painting, he was busy reading a pornographic magazine. After sending him packing, Barbara is confronted by the Fantom Kiler. Offering a simple solution to her problem, the Fantom Kiler removes Barbara's grey suit and uses her fake breasts as paint brushes. You heard right, her paint-covered fake breasts are being pressed against the wall of her office.

A similar scene takes place later on in the film when Kasia (Kate Blond), Inspector Nowak's BFF, catches a janitor sleeping on the job. Except, instead of using her breasts as a paintbrush, the Fantom Kiler employs her as a human mop. And anyone wanna guess where the Fantom Kiler shoves the mop handle? Anyone? Very good, Billy. He does insert the mop handle into her anus.

My favourite aspect about the booby paintbrush/human mop scenes are that they both start off with strong women bossing around meek men. The fact that both scenes eventually evolve into two of the most misogynistic sequences the franchise has ever produced didn't seem to bother me.

Stressed out... no, scratch that. Deeply disturbed by what happened to Officer Stella Green, Barbara and Kasia, Inspector Nowak is more determined than ever to catch the sadistic killer responsible for these heinous crimes.

She shouldn't, however, expect any help from her male peers, as Inspector Borak (Petr Sass) gives her nothing but grief (and a severe spanking with a red fly swatter). Well, he does advise to start wearing pyjamas as a way of preventing foreign objects from slipping into her pussy as she sleeps. Which I thought that was on the cusp of being helpful. But for most part, Inspector Nowak is all alone.

In the film's most effective scene in terms of atmosphere, Inspector Nowak is seen investigating a dark figure lurking in the middle of a field of dead sunflowers. I don't know how they managed to pull this off, but this scene looks like something you might find in a real horror movie. Leggily approaching the dark figure, Hana Liska, who is fully clothed(!), slowly walks toward it (the slit on her white skirt no doubt aiding her ability to walk slowly) with her gun drawn, and then she... Well, I don't want to ruin the surprise.

(Is the gun Hana L. uses in the sunflower scene the same gun that was in her vagina the night she discovered there was a gun in her vagina?) Probably. (Yay!)

A vast improvement over all the other films in every possible way you can imagine, Fantom Kiler 4 trumps its predecessors when it comes to camera angles, cinematography, acting, sets, and costumes. But most importantly, part four gives us a series of cleverly devised torture and murder sequences that will shock and amuse in equal measure; you have to admit, using a severed penis as a dildo is pretty freakin' hilarious. My only complaint has to do with the fact that none of the women wear stockings and that Hana Liska's pubic hair seems to change in-between scenes. So, in the future, be sure to add stockings to your costume designer's shopping list and make sure to keep tabs on the pubic hair of your actors.

Punk Vacation (Stanley Lewis, 1990)

I don't think she had any lines beyond, "What'll it be?" And get this, she's only onscreen for something like ten, maybe fifteen seconds. Yet, the moment I saw Roxanne Rogers as the perpetually unamused diner waitress in 976-EVIL, I knew she had talent. While the makers of the hotline from hell movie couldn't see that she was oozing raw, uncut star power (if they had, they would have given her a bigger part), someone else might. And wouldn't you know it, the fine folks behind this particular movie obviously saw that Roxanne Rogers needed an opportunity to properly shine as an actress. (So, did they?) Oh, you better believe they did. They not only cast her as a punk in the aptly named Punk Vacation, they cast her as the lead punk. Now, in most movies that feature gangs that subscribe to the punk ethos, whether they be unruly biker punks and unscrupulous street punks, their leader is typically a man–he usually has a bad attitude, a short temper and is named either Spike or Slash. Well, in this film, a woman calls the shots. (Oh, I see, she leads a gang of girl punks.) You sexist pig. (What?) You just implied that if a woman is the leader of a gang of punks, it must be an all-girl gang, 'cause no man would take orders from a woman, right? (Okay, fine, they have one gay guy in the gang who does their hair and helps the girls put together their punk ensembles, but the rest of the gang is made up of chicks.) You are not only a sexist pig, you're a homophobic jackass. (What?) Do I even have to explain?

Check this out, Roxanne Rogers' characters name is "Ramrod." Isn't that awesome? To be honest, I thought the leader of the punks in this movie was a man. You see, while hold up in an abandoned barn, the punks keep referring to their leader, "Ramrod." Noticing a burly male punk with a strong upper body standing in a menacing manner, I naturally assumed that he was Ramrod, as he looks exactly the way you would think a person named Ramrod would look.

However, when I finally realized that they were referring Roxanne Rogers and not the burly fella as "Ramrod," I nearly lost it. Not because I felt duped, or because the whole incident exposed some mild sexism on my part. No, because I love the idea of a woman calling herself "Ramrod."

While I was getting my panties all in a twist over the fact that a woman named "Ramrod" leads a gang of unruly biker punks, I failed to mention that this movie brilliantly depicts the epic battle between punk and grunge.

As the 1980s were coming to an end, punk faced its biggest threat yet. Having survived many style-based onslaughts over the years (disco, new wave, the mod revival, ska, goth, preppies and yuppies), punk came up against the flannel work shirt. Boasting the ability to adopt various aspects from the styles it fought with over the years, punk has managed to thrive since its inception. That being said, the flannel work shirt has always poised a real problem for punk. I've seen some punks try to employ the flannel work shirt as an accessory (they usually tie it around their waste), but the garment usually ends up dominating the punk's ensemble to such degree, that even the classic leather jacket is rendered frightfully square and totally ineffective.

In Punk Vacation, they ask the question: What if a group of punks were stranded in a town filled with nothing but people who wore flannel work shirts? You think that's scary, what if I told you the people wearing the flannel work shirts were also heavily-armed rednecks?

These types of questions wouldn't have had to been asked in the first place had the flannel work shirt-wearing rednecks just made sure their vending machines worked. (Huh?) Think about it, if the dolt who runs the gas station in this movie had kept his vending machines in working order, we wouldn't be having this conversation. (Come again, I'm still not following.)

Okay, let me set the scene for you. Wait, is this a Terrence Malick film? Shots of swaying grass, eerie new age music, and water flowing down stream are what greet us as Punk Vacation gets underway. Hey, man–I thought to myself as I watched the pastoral tranquility wash over me–this is not what I signed up for. Interrupting this "pastoral tranquility" (which, by the way, was the working title of the third album by Archers of Loaf) is the sound of gun shots. Practicing firing his gun in the woods, Deputy Steve Reed (Stephen Fiachi) suddenly gets a call on the radio that the alarm at his girlfriend's father's gas station has gone off again.

Telling his girlfriend's father to either fix the alarm or turn it off, Steve manages to annoy Lisa (Sandra Bogan), his blonde, flannel work shirt-wearing girlfriend. Noticing this, Lisa's little sister, Sally (Karen Renee) tries to swoop in and woo Deputy Steve, but he doesn't even know she exists. After some time, Lisa's father becomes even more annoying than Steve, and Lisa agrees to be driven home by Steve. I don't know 'bout you, but all this talk about the inner workings of Steve and Lisa's relationship is starting to wear me out.

After Steve and Lisa leave, a lone punk on a motorcycle named Billy (Robert Garrison) shows up. Hoping to grab an orange soda, Billy is clearly disappointed when he finds out the vending machine only has cola. Despite the fact that the Billy despises cola, he deposits his forty cents like a good little consumer. Only problem is, the cola fails to materialize.

When Sally tells her father that some "weird guy" is banging on the vending machine, he immediately grabs his shotgun and confronts Billy. (Hold on, didn't he first offer Billy restitution for his missing soda?) No, like I said, he shoves a shotgun in Billy's face almost immediately. (But his vending machine was unsuccessful when it came time to produce a carbonated beverage. In other words, shouldn't Billy be the one shoving shotguns in people's faces?)

Driving off soda-less, Billy eventually comes back to the gas station with his friends, a gang of punk and new wave bikers (I added to "new wave" to their description because some of them seemed more new wave than punk). Now, did Lisa's father really deserve to be murdered over a can of soda? Of course not. Hold up, let me noodle with this for awhile. In meantime, please enjoy "Tell Me Girl" by Scary Thieves.

What am I saying? Of course Lisa's father deserved to be murdered. Okay, maybe not in front of Sally, but the moment Lisa's father pointed that shotgun at Billy, a precedent was set. One that stated that physical violence was an acceptable course of action to solve grievances. (Even if the issue at hand is a forty cent can of soda?) It doesn't matter how trivial the issue at hand is, Lisa's father set in motion the events that lead to his own death the instant he picked up that shotgun.

(While your rationalization is strangely logical, I don't think Lisa is going to be so understanding.)

Seconds after the murder takes place, Billy is run over by Deputy Steve as the punks flee the scene and little Sally goes into shock. Both are sent to the same hospital, where Lisa vows to avenge her father's death (she doesn't say this out loud, but you can see the wheels of vengeance turning in her brain). When her attempt to stab Billy in his hospital room is thwarted by a security guard (a lingerie catalog-reading security guard), Lisa decides to target the members of his gang, who, as she soon discovers, are hold up in a barn on the outskirts of town.

(How come the punks haven't split?) Well, according to Ramrod (Roxanne Rogers), their blonde, spiky-haired, black fishnet-sporting  leader, they ain't leaving without Billy. While some of the punks feel bad about killing a man (who one of them describes as "Gomer Pyle's grandfather") and think it's best if they hit the road (the punk haven of Los Angeles is only 100 miles away), most agree that Billy needs to be rescued. And since Ramrod rules by using consensus, the minority opinion is overruled.

In charge of keeping a look out for cops, girl punks Flo (Delta Giordano) and Shirley (Pat Briody) discuss their careers while sitting on a hill that overlooks the valley.

Even though I saw her at the gas station and in the barn (she's the one who compares Lisa's father to Gomer Pyle's grandfather), the girl punk look out scene was when I fell for Flo, full name, Florence Henderson, in the worst possible way. I mean, the dark teal jacket, the dark teal tights, the dark teal highlights in her jet black hair, she's the definition of adorable; she's the teal deal.

Including Billy, there are eleven punks in Ramrod's gang, seven men and four women. And after thinking about it for quite some time, I've decided that Ramrod and Flo were my favourite punks in Punk Vacation. Just kidding, it hardly took any time for me to decide that Ramrod and Flo were my fave punks.

Seriously, look at them!

Did you get a good look? So, now you understand, right? You do? Awesome. It's great to have you on board.

Every time they would appear onscreen I would feel this warmish sensation in my tummy.

The great thing about Ramrod and Flo is that they're nothing alike. You see, while Ramrod is  dedicated fully to the punk cause, one that involves destroying the "parasites of the military industrial complex," Flo isn't, she's merely, "misguided as hell." This lack punkish fortitude on Flo's part causes her clash with Ramrod on several occasions. A male punk named Feggy (Billy Palmieri) also clashes with Ramrod over similar issues. But I'm sure most people will agree, Feggy isn't as adorable, or as fashion-forward for that matter, as Flo.

Assembling a posse to attack the punks, the town's sheriff (Louis Waldon) is determined to kill every last one of those "yellow-bellied fascist communist pinkos." Did you notice what the majority of the posse members were wearing? That's right, flannel work shirts.

While punk would ultimately survive the flannel work shirt plague that was the early 1990s, the purveyors of hair metal weren't so lucky. Their way of life would be decimated by the flannel work shirt, as sales of hair spray, Winger albums and tight spandex trousers plummeted throughout the '90s.

A strange thing occurs during the battle between the punks and the posse. The punks started to come across as the good guys. Or better yet, the film seems to imply that it's the posse, not punks who are the real menace to society.

Anyway, I loved the way all the male punks, including the bald Venny (Wayne Chema) and the French-accented Pierre (Todd Anderson), would dutifully report to Ramrod, who during the final showdown, stood on top of a hill, binoculars in hand, like she was George S. Patton, except, of course, with way more eye makeup.

The soundtrack might, on the surface, be severely lacking in the punk rock department. But in all honesty, I actually prefer the catchy Wang Chung-esque synth punk vibe that composer Ross Vannelli was repeatedly putting out there with his score. If I was given the choice to listen to the music of Wang Chung or, in this case, music that sort of sounds like Wang Chung, or any  punk band, besides Wire and Gang of Four, I would choose Wang Chung every time most of the time.