Posts Tagged With: Ian McCulloch



It’s all very well (has been rather jolly, in fact) watching Scala-type screen filler on DVD/BD and posting Scala-related reviews, features and interviews online but it has its limitations. Imagine my disappointment, for example, on playing the outboard motor scene from Doctor Butcher to Mrs F who, instead of whooping enthusiastically and commenting on the finer points of Maurizio Trani’s FX work, opined: “Uurgh, that’s horrible! Don’t ever show me that again!” 😩

No, to truly invoke the spirit of Scalarama you’ve got to get up off your sofa, leave the house (I freely admit, I’m not a great advocate for either of those activities) and sit yourself down among the great unwashed to enjoy a trash film with a live audience. Admittedly Phil “Hedgehog” Tonge barely qualifies as “live” but it was nice to remake his acquaintance as we shared the awesomeness that was the aforementioned Doctor Butcher M.D. playing at Nottingham’s Broadway Cinema under the Scalarama banner on the evening of Saturday, 17th of September, this year of Our Lord 2016.

Kudos to the mighty men of Mayhem, The Reprobate and Severin (whose incredible Doctor Butcher BD is reviewed elsewhere on the site) for bringing this bastard offspring of Times Square and the Tiber terror mills to The Broadway, a venue so uptight and PC under a previous regime that it banned Hong Kong knockabout fare for its perceived slights against the LGBT community and declared that De Palma’s Dressed To Kill would never sully its screens under any circumstances (it subsequently did, uncut!) Certain sensitivities must be observed though and I noticed that in advertising for the event the Doc’s C.V. had been amended from “depraved, sadistic rapist” to “depraved, sadistic maniac”… sounds like a much more agreeable chap now, doesn’t he?


I was hoping that Severin’s Carl Daft might be manning the Butcher Mobile outside and handing out barf bags to punters, but it wasn’t to be. Nevertheless, Theatre 4 was just about sold out and in their introduction Chris Cooke, then Dave Flint did their best to whip up a little 42nd Street grindhouse atmosphere, while cautioning viewers that they probably wouldn’t get away with public sex or overt drug use. There was a rumour that somebody had taken a crap in one of the urinals, but this turned out to be a short lived and highly localised urban myth. Shame, really…

These provisos notwithstanding, the audience did guffaw enthusiastically along to their favourite scenes and lines of dialogue. “The patient’s screams disturbed my concentration so I performed removal of the vocal cords” and “I’m determined to have your brain!” went down particularly well and inevitably the most popular scene was…

000000Zombi Holocaust 1.jpg

An unwholesome good time was had by all and before exiting into a Nottingham disfigured by the antisocial antics of alcohol addled townies (a spectacle that probably had more in common with the heyday of 42nd Street than anything which had gone on in the polite environs of The Broadway) we were thanked by Mr Cooke, who took the opportunity to plug the imminent Mayhem Fest (13th-16th October) and announce that they’ll be screening upcoming Severin release The Killing Of America in its newly discovered longer cut on the eve of the American Presidential election.


Enjoy yourselves, it’s later than you think…

Categories: Events | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Neuro Surgeons Scream For More… Severin’s Brain Boggling DOCTOR BUTCHER M.D. / ZOMBI HOLOCAUST BD Reviewed


This is precisely why we don’t want a U.S. style health service over here… support the junior doctors!

Doctor Butcher MD wallpaper Beyond.jpg

BD. Region Free. Severin. Unrated.

198o’s Zombi Holocaust by “Frank Martin” (Marino Girolami) apparently started life as Queen Of The Cannibals, which immediately begs two burning questions: 1) Where does the zombie sub-genre shade off into the cannibal canon? and 2) Could anyone in their right mind actually give a toss?

Of course several characters in this film aren’t actually in their right minds or rather, their minds have been put in the wrong craniums by Donald O’Brien, a mad medic who’s set up practice in cannibal country, hoping that the culinary preferences of the locals will discourage investigation of his forbidden experiments. Bang goes that little theory when body-snatching shenanigans by Kito-cultists in a New York hospital predictably lead to the mounting of a jungle expedition (and if that – plus the presence of O’Brien – sounds horribly like Emanuele And The Last Cannibals, so does the soundtrack music, shamelessly pillaged by producer Fabrizio De Angelis from that previous, D’Amato-directed outrage.) Despite Ian McCulloch’s ostentatious safari jacket, the expedition resembles nothing so much as a bad acid remake of King Solomon’s Mines, crossed with Island Of Lost Souls and shot in somebody’s back garden (though it was actually lensed in a Roman park.)

The expeditioneers comprise anthropologist McCulloch, sleaze-queen Alexandra Delli Colli (shortly to “enjoy” her career nadir, enduring hispanic toe-sex in Fulci’s notorious New York Ripper) and the compulsory sassy female reporter, Susan (Sherry Buchanan), who’s pushing for a Pulitzer. She’s more likely to get that than an Oscar, as her acting technique consists of staring goofily into the foliage when not actually delivering lines herself. Even so, she fails to see the cannibals who arrive to drag her off to consult with the doc. Various native bearers are similarly borne off and disemboweled and the unfortunate George (Peter O’Neal) has his eyes messily plucked out and eaten in Maurizio Trani’s finest FX moment (well, considerably finer than the make-up on the heavy breathing zombies who turn up to frighten the cannibals off, anyway: these guys only appear to be decomposing from the neck up – insert your own gag about the film makers here.)


Desperately seeking Susan, the survivors are hampered by both zombie and cannibal attacks, but the ever resourceful McCulloch – veteran of countless zombie and alien pod scrapes – saves the day with his trusty machete and – in one case – an expertly wielded outboard motor.

Zombi Holocaust 1.jpg

Finally, they reach the doc’s bamboo operating theatre … and Casualty was never like this! Susan, whose brain has already scooped from its skull, never will win that Pulitzer, but at least her career ambitions were pitched higher than those of O’Brien, who apparently considers “placing the brain of a young female into the body of a male who has been dead for ten days” to be “traversing new boundaries in medical science!” The good doctor is nothing if not thorough-going (“The patient’s screaming disturbed my concentration so I performed removal of the vocal chords”); community-spirited (“I always make a point of giving the scalps to the natives, for use in their fertility rites”); and modest (“I don’t limit myself to correcting nature’s mistakes. I improve on nature!”)


He’s also scornful of his critics (“Yours is a fine example of medium intelligence”) and brushes aside any ethical shilly-shallying with the brusque observation that “science must surmount all obstacles, and this requires certain sacrifices.” Finally it’s revealed, in strictly throwaway fashion, that the natives regard Delli Colli as their goddess, which prompts them to torch the zombies and eat O’Brien, while McCulloch and the divine Delli Colli make good their escape.

In America, Terry Levene’s notorious exploitation outfit Aquarius released Zombi Holocaust on the grindhouse circuit as  Doctor Butcher M.D. (= “Medical Deviate!”), recutting its intro with shots culled from the abortive Wes Craven / Roy Frumkes collaboration, Tales That Will Tear Your Heart Out. I’ve never thought that this in any way enhances the viewing experience, but I’m loath to second guess as canny an exploitation operator as Levene. Surely he always gets such judgements right? Apparently not, because he’s of the opinion that it would be foolish and pointless to mount an HD restoration of Doctor Butcher, a  misguided view he chooses to state during one of the bonus featurettes on the very double BD set whose existence proves him wrong… the landmark Severin release now under consideration.

Dr Butcher MD T and T pic.gif

Both cuts of the film presented here look better than recent rival Zombie Holocaust releases and both contain the elusive “bamboo pit” sequence (only present as an amputated “extra”, if at all, in those) as an integral part of their action. There’s still a fair bit of grain on view but I guess that’s inevitable in a film of this vintage and budget, preferable in fact to the kind of DNR pea-souping that blighted our screens in the early days of Blu-ray mastering.

… and then, of course, there’s the raft of impressive extras with which both of these discs are freighted. On Doctor Butcher you get the aforementioned Terry Levene profile and an equally enlightening guided tour around what’s left of the 42nd Street grindhouse district by  Chris “Temple Of Schlock” Poggiali and Roy Frumkes… the Frumkes footage whose fragments adorned the intro of Levene’s cut is shown in its entirety. The expected trailers are trotted out, editor Jim Markovic is interviewed and Gary Hertz supplies a witty and heartfelt illustrated reminiscence of his adventures in The Deuce. My favourite supplement on this disc, though, is an interview with notorious Gore Gazette editor Rick Sullivan who reveals all on the seminal East Coast fanzine scene, how an ill-advised detour into the pirate distribution of porn nearly got him jailed and his stint on the legendary Butcher Mobile, drumming up punters in the streets of New York with a spot of grand guignol hokum. The Severin boys repeated this trick to promote their own screenings and – Carl Daft tells me – made sure that they forewarned local cops, to reduce their risk of getting shot.

img58 copy.jpg

Over on the Zombi Holocaust disc, Ian McCulloch continues to express good natured bewilderment at the ongoing popularity of his three forays into Italian splatter cinema (and sings Down By The River in archive audio evidence of his former incarnation as a wannabe pop star), FX artists Maurizio Trani and Rosario Prestopino discuss the tricks of their gory trade, we get more trailers, a “compare and contrast” of the film’s Big Apple locations, then and now (not much seems to have changed… one of the buildings now seems to have more rabbis hanging around outside it.) There’s an informative interview with Sherry Buchanan (looking rather lovely, speaking fluent Italian and now apparently residing in Rome) in which we learn, for instance, that this Biloxi girl’s career in Italian cinema began in a back room job on the Sergio Leone / Tonino Valerii Western My Name Is Nobody (1973.) Finally, director Girolami is remembered by his son (a certain Enzo G. Castellari) in a touching tribute illustrated with plenty of personal family photographs.


In his featurette, FX man Prestopino amplifies a charge that Dardano Sachetti has often levelled, that the producers of Italian zombie films could have pumped more money into them and created an ongoing, internationally viable franchise, but chose to cut corners disastrously in search of a fast buck. Fabrizio De Angelis failed to lure Enzo Castellari to direct Zombie Flesh Eaters, which inaugurated the Zucchini Zombie craze in 1979, and it was only after Joe D’Amato had also turned him down that Lucio Fulci got the gig and turned in the exploitation masterpiece that we know and love so well. For Zombi Holocaust, De Angelis chose Castellari’s father… if he hadn’t been able to get him, I wonder, would he have approached D’Amato’s dad?!?

Lucio Fulci once told me how pissed off he was that De Angelis had nicked not only his ZFE star, locations and sets for Zombi Holocaust, but also surplus-to-requirement footage that Fulci had shot. I had fun spotting a coupla such shots (keep your eyes peeled for Auretta Gay) and I think you will, too…

Obviously you’re going to shell out for this, but bear in mind that the first 5,000 copies also include a give-away authentic(ish) Doctor Butcher barf bag and be quick about it… chop chop!


Categories: Blu-ray / DVD Reviews | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Making The Cyclops Cry… CONTAMINATION reviewed

Blu-ray (A/B) – DVD (1/2) combo. Arrow. 15


“Who you calling a toaster oven, Earthling?!?”

An abandoned boat drifts down the Hudson river, bearing a fresh consignment of pulsating  green pods from Mars. When they ripen, they burst open and and shower any Earthlings reckless enough to be in their vicinity with acid. As if that weren’t nasty enough, this is nasty Martian acid which reduces the investigating coast guards to exploding showers of offal, lovingly filmed in super-slow motion by director Luigi Cozzi. The human race responds swiftly and before you can say “chest burster” every Italian in New York is on the case. Dr Stella Holmes (Louise Marleau) takes control: “I’m a colonel, directly responsible to the President, Special Division Five”, she barks: “
 put Emergency Plan Seven into effect.” Stella enlists the services of Police Lieutenant Arris (Marino Mase), the sole survivor of that Marie Celeste massacre, and also Hubbard (Ian McCulloch), an astronaut who was laughed out of NASA when he returned from the first manned Mars probe claiming that his colleague Hamilton was killed by pulsating Martian pods. Holmes finds this guy residing in alcoholic squalor, but galvanises him into action with some catty reflections on his virility, to wit: “In this state, you couldn’t even get it up with a crane!” (What a ball-breaker!)


Hubbard repeats his story and this time gets a more sympathetic hearing. The accompanying flashback sequence – depicting his ordeal in a cave at the Martian pole – is gripping stuff, comparing very favourably to the corresponding scene in Alien when you consider the films’ respective budgets. One of Goblin’s most atmospheric, throbbing scores does no harm either. Holmes, Hubbard and Arris trace the pods to a waterfront warehouse, where a cop who knocks on the door is unceremoniously shot through the head. SWAT dudes storm the place, but the warehousemen duck any awkward questions by the simple expedient of exploding in slow motion. Stella theorises, straight off the top of her head, that the pods are to be placed in the Big Apple’s sewer system, where they will incubate and blow up a large section of the city. “National security is at stake” she warns: “
 and possibly even more than that!”

Our intrepid threesome fly off to Columbia, to be greeted by the expected outbreak of stock footage. Villainous locals smuggle pods into Stella’s bathroom while she’s taking a shower, but the boys rescue her, setting the scene for the climactic confrontation on a coffee plantation that has been turned over to the cultivation of pods (check out the pod incubation unit and ponder whether you’ve seen that room before… maybe at the climax of Argento’s Inferno? Perhaps also as the setting of the most notorious moment in Andrea Bianchi’s Nights Of Terror?) The operation is run by Hamilton (Siegfried Rauch), the supposedly dead astronaut, his will directed by the dreaded Alien Cyclops (“
 it’s slimy, slithering appearance more than made up for by the fact that it has all the mobility of a toaster oven”, to invoke the memorable contemporary description in Fangoria magazine.)


The Cyclops mesmerises Arris with its throbbing yellow eye then sucks him into its gaping maw. Stella’s next on the menu but Old Mother Hubbard, despite undergoing another Mars flashback (makes a nice change from all those ’Nam flashbacks) shoots the cyclops in the eye, which for some reason causes Hamilton to burst into flames. The army turns up on cue to round up the Martian minions and close down the plantation but unfortunately that’s not the end of the story – back in NYC (right outside The Twin Towers, uncomfortably enough) pods are ripening in sidewalk garbage piles. One of them bursts as the credits roll.


Although gore wasn’t exactly unknown in Italian horror cinema before the late ’70s, the succession of ever more graphically violent American box office smashes in that period prompted a veritable tsunami of spaghetti splatter
 happy days! Contamination is a textbook demonstration of the sheer vitality, seat-of-their-pants inventiveness and shameless dollar chasing exhibited by Italian movie mavens during what was destined to become the final throw of exploitation all’Italiana. As that non-sequitur title suggests, the film was originally conceived as a cash-in on The China Syndrome (1979) but when Alien (1979) burst its way through John Hurt’s chest and into the hearts of movie goers around the world, producers Claudio Mancini and Ugo Valenti enthusiastically jumped the biomorphic bandwagon, their rapidly rehashed property being touted, variously, as Alien Contamination, Alien 2 and Alien Arrives On Earth (good job they weren’t crass enough to pit Alien against Predator, huh?) until Fox’s lawyers had their say. Neither unfazed by this nor discouraged by such recent examples of Italian sci-fi as Lugi Cozzi’s 1978 howler Starcrash, they enlisted Cozzi to throw together an energetically eclectic conflation of Alien, Quatermass, Invasion Of The Body Snatchers, Invaders From Mars and, striking a patriotic note, Lucio Fulci’s Zombie Flesh Eaters (1979.)  Having starred in that and Marino Girolami’s Zombie Holocaust (1980), Ian McCulloch was along for the ride modelling a proto-Trump hairdon’t and doing his best bargain basement Bond bit (Mancini, perhaps fancying himself as a stem of Broccoli, being determined to cram a sub-006-and-a- 1/2 element into this cut price concoction.)

Precisely such relentless trend chasing is the subject of bonus featurette The Sincerest Form Of Flattery: A Critical Analysis Of Tne Italian Cash-in, in which Maitland McDonagh and Chris “Temple Of Schlock” Poggiali expound upon the filoni theory of Italian making, whereby generic streams are drained until they run dry… an entertaining examination of its subject, though it mysteriously peters out itself while Poggiali is in mid flight. Other extras include a rabidly enthusiastic commentary track from current Fango editor Chris Alexander, who’s fiercely keen to defend Contamination from its detractors while simultaneously acknowledging the schlocky nature of the whole proceedings (*). There’s the expected trailer. The director’s career is profiled in Luigi Cozzi Vs Lewis Coates and Sound Of The Cyclops showcases Goblin member Maurizio Guarini with emphasis on his score for this film. Both Notes On Science Fiction Cinema (an archive Cozzi interview combined with some valuable behind-the-scenes footage) and a nifty graphic novel appeared in a previous Blue Underground DVD release.

Best of all is the 15.11.14 Q&A session from the Abertoir Horror Festival, Aberystwyth Arts Centre. Moderated by Ewan Cant in front of a receptive audience, Cozzi and McCulloch are on good form and the whole thing is a hoot. Particularly memorable are McCulloch’s electrified reaction to the director’s assertions about how much money Contamination took (might one infer that it was a different story when his royalty cheques were being discussed?) and then the star starts wondering aloud about why, precisely, some of Contamination’s scenes had to be shot in Columbia, of all places. When Cozzi doesn’t exactly go out of his way to dissuade McCulloch from this line of speculation, the latter’s astonishment is palpable… Priceless stuff!

After some early misfires Arrow, have got this Blu-ray mastering malarky well and truly licked… you could quibble that some of the film’s early outdoor shots look a tad grainy but they’ve resisted the temptation to sink the picture in DNR fudging and Contamination will probably never look better than this. And it’s impossible to sign off here without commenting on the fact that this former “video nasty” is now deemed fit for consumption by 15 year olds. “National security at stake”? Pah…


“Th-th-th-that’s all, folks!”

(*) Alexander beats himself up about his inability to put a name to the cameoing face of Carlo De Mejo, son of Alida Valli and a familiar face from any amount of pasta paura epics… as these things often do, this prompted me to google what De Mejo had been up to recently. Sadly, prominent among this list was dying. He took to his grave the secret of what the f*ck the climax to Fulci’s City Of The Living Dead (1980) actually meant.

Categories: Blu-ray / DVD Reviews | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Blog at

%d bloggers like this: