From Zombos Closet

November 25, 2023

Frankenstein Versus the Creature
From Blood Cove (2005)

/ Movies (Bad) / Leave a Comment

Zombos Says: Poor (even with the lap dance)

Disclaimer: The following review is filled with cheap shots, cheesy double-entendres, and puerile, trashy writing. Read it at your own risk.

 

Rain began to sideslip across the windowpanes and the bedroom grew darker. Zombos alternately
draped himself over his bed, the settee, and the cushy leather wing chairs. We were at our wits end, he from a bad cold and the doldrums, and I from wet-nursing him. We had exhausted the claret, the sherry, and now our beloved green fairy—Absinthe—was almost gone. The situation was becoming intolerable. The thunder storm refused to let up, dwindle down, or simply go away.

Glenor Glenda broke up the tedium by bringing in the morning mail, then went about her tidying up ways. Among the bills, personal correspondence, and advertisements (Zombos loves receiving those reassuring adverts about cemetery plots, dirt cheap), there was a soggy package from William Wincler, director of Frankenstein vs. the Creature from Blood Cove.

“Well, it’s in black and white,” I said, unwrapping it. Zombos loves black and white movies. I waved it in front of him to tempt him.

He waved his hand in the air while blowing his nose. I took that for a yes. I popped the disc into the DVD player and poured out the last drops of Absinthe.

“Lap dance special?” Zombos said as the menu choices appeared. “What is that?”

I shrugged and clicked the remote to select it. The both of us were quickly nonplussed.

“My word, I suppose that gives new meaning to the phrase ‘Frankenstein’s Monster,’ ” I said.

“Good lord,” said Zombos, “if Zimba sees this she will pickle me. Quick, select something else.”

The rain was coming down in bucket-fulls by the time we started the main feature. At Zombos’ request, I held onto the remote and positioned myself close to the door, just in case Zimba popped in during one of the numerous ‘talent and asset’ cheesecake scenes. Frankenstein’s Monster and the Creature were not the only
big monsters in this movie.

We watched the Creature, a biogenetically-engineered one, escape the mad scientists’ lair by jogging out the front door and gate, heading straight for the beach.

“Did the Creature just walk out the front door and gate?” asked Zombos.

“Well, no, exactly. Technically, he jogged out the front door and gate,” I corrected him.

Loopy scientists, dressed in their Clorox-white lab coats, drinking coffee after dinner and chit-chatting, decide, on a whim, to go and find Frankenstein’s Monster to continue their experiments now that the Creature had escaped and is sun-bathing on the beach.

They travel to Shellvania, which probably lies next to Exxonia, in the Gulf of Transylvania. Faster than you can say boo! they easily find the Monster in an unmarked grave using their trusty pocket-sized Reanimated-Tissue Traces Finder.

“What in hell is that thing? Is that made out of Legos?”asked Zombos.

“It does look like it,” I said. “Why, just last week at Walmart I saw Lego kits for Star Wars and Transformers. Be easy to make a Reanimated-Tissue Traces Finder, I’d think.

“Amazing,” said Zombos. “In my day, it was Slinkies, Silly-Putty, or Mr.Potato Head.”

While digging up the Frankenstein Monster, a werewolf attacks them, is frightened off, then attacks them again—in broad daylight. After being viciously assaulted, sort of, by the well-groomed werewolf, and shooting it dead, the unperturbed scientists decide to chat on and on about its medical condition. Eventually they go back to digging.

“I would have been hauling ass right about then,” I said.

Zombos nodded in agreement.

“Hey, look, the werewolf is Eddie Munster all grown up.”

We watched the cursed thing transform back to its human shape. “No wonder the werewolf looked like his Woof Woof doll.”

Back in Los Angeles (I wonder how they got Frankenstein’s Monster past Homeland Security?), the mad scientists set to work on brainwashing the Monster to follow only their orders.

What? That’s what mad scientists do.

Meanwhile, Percy, Bill and Dezzirae are off to the deserted beach—where the Creature ran off to—to shoot a photo spread for Kitty Kat magazine, highlighting Gabrielle’s bosomy assets.

“Lord! Now those monsters are scary!” said Zombos.

Getting Creature-is-near vibes, mayhem ensues, sending them hustling back to the Kitty Kat magazine office, but their editor sends them right back to the beach for more photos; which leads to our next saucy and well-endowed model, Beula, making the mistake of swimming topless when danger is nearby. She obviously hasn’t seen Jaws
or even Piranha. The Creature pops up to bore us to death—oops, I meant claw her to death.

More mayhem ensues as the Creature follows our panic-stricken trio to the parking lot, then to the—I didn’t see this one coming—mad scientists lair. Calling for help by patiently ringing the doorbell, Bill, Percy and Dezzirae are invited inside, only to become prisoners because they’ve seen too much.

By this time, so have we.

Frankenstein’s Monster is sent to kick the Creature’s butt, but instead gets his butt kicked. Mad Dr. Lazaroff (Larry Butler) helps him recuperate. He also receives a  visit from the ghost of Doctor Frankenstein.

“Is that Ed Wood?” asked Zombos as the ghostly apparition appears to Dr. Lazaroff.

“Can’t be, he’s not wearing an Angora sweater,” I said.

“Roger Corman, then?”

“Not dead yet,” I answered.

“Oh, right. It must be old Henry himself, then,” Zombos concluded.

“Story aside, the cinematography is good, don’t you think?” I asked. “The action scenes between the Monster and the Creature lack bite, though. Seems more like they’re having a hissy fit.”

Zombos agreed. “The pacing is non-existent. The camera angles are fair and bosomy.”

When Selena Silver goes into her shamelessly gratuitous pole dance routine in a seedy bar, all hell breaks loose when Frankenstein’s Monster enters. It’s pointless for me to describe how he got there in the first place, or why we’re even there because this whole production is pointless.

“Is that Ron Jeremy?” asked Zimba, standing at the door.

“Why yes, I think it—” Zombos turned a shade paler than he normally is.

I sensed a battle brewing, one more horrific than the cat-fight between the Monster and the Creature. I turned off the movie and hastily left the bedroom.

Wait a minute, I thought to myself as I paused at the top of the stairs, how did Zimba know what Ron Jeremy looked like?

Silent Hill (2006)
Dear Mr. Ebert

/ Movies (Horror) / 4 Comments

SilenthillZombos Says: Good 

Dear Mr. Ebert:

I am aghast that you, as mentioned in your review for Silent Hill, cannot describe the plot for this movie. I, as you, have not played the video game, but even so I think
the plot woefully obvious. Allow me to illustrate it, with as much brevity as
possible, so you can better appreciate the nuances of this gripping horror story.

But before I begin, I was wondering what you use for a light source when you take notes during the movie? I’ve tried various book-lights and pen-lights, but they’re either too bright, annoying those sitting around me, or too awkward to position, or uncomfortable to hold for long periods of time. I was lucky with Silent Hill as there was an Exit sign which cast just enough reddish light for me to see what I was writing. Of course, I had to sit on the floor next to it, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable; except for the occasional person stepping over me to go to the bathroom or concession stand. It’s a good thing I don’t review Disney movies as I’d have had the little monsters and their rude parents incessantly running back and forth, trampling me.

Getting back to Silent Hill, the plot is a simple one, often repeated in horror and science fiction movies. It even reminded me of the Star Trek episode, And the Children Shall Lead, where Gorgon, an evil alien who appears to children as a friendly angel (played by real-life attorney Melvin Belli), takes advantage of their naivety to further his evil plans. He uses them as a conduit for his nasty powers. Now instead of an evil alien, in Silent Hill we
have a kid, Alessa, who’s being used by a malevolent demon to exact malicious mischief and revenge on the titular (I always love using that word: it sounds so naughty) townspeople that did her wrong.

Now—oh, wait a minute—is it a demon that is using the girl as a conduit or is it actually the dark half of
the girl that’s taking revenge on the townsfolk? The convoluted explanation toward the last quarter of the movie, oddly done in an inappropriate grainy faux-home-movie-styled flashback, describes how badly the poor kid was
mistreated, and how she eventually split into a dark half who curses and destroys the town and everyone in it, and a good half the dark half sends away, only to call it back after nine years. But then why bother to send the
good half away, only to have it return after nine years?

I missed something. I better start over.

Dear Mr. Ebert,

I’m surprised that you, as mentioned in your review for Silent Hill, can’t describe the plot for this move. I, as you, have not played the video game, but even so, I think the plot fairly obvious. Allow me to illustrate, with as much brevity as possible, so you can better appreciate the nuances of this atmospheric horror story.

Alessa, born out of wedlock, is tormented by her classmates, victimized by the school janitor, and cooked like
a hot dog by a wacky religious cult. The poor kid, amazingly, survives all this rude treatment and, naturally, develops an evil personification that can reach out from her badly scarred and bed-ridden body to maliciously destroy her tormentors. No wonder there.

Then again, you could look at it this way: a demon from hell takes advantage of the poor girl’s revengeful,
hate-filled state of mind to kill everybody in town and lock their souls into a very imaginatively depicted hell-like limbo filled with endless horrific punishments.

After wreaking chaos and horror on the townsfolk, she realizes she’s been acting rather badly and decides to
create a good version of herself—pre-nastiness and all that, which she then sends away to live with
total strangers until precisely nine years pass. Demon Alessa—or just a hell-spawned demon along for the ride—then summons pre-nastiness Alessa (now Sharon) back to town to…to…what? And what’s that weird, confusing
backstory about a witch burned by townsfolk and the town being on fire for years and years?

Oh, bugger! I thought I had it this time. I have to start over.

Dear Mr. Ebert,

I’m not surprised that you can’t describe the plot for Silent Hill. It can be confusing to those not all that familiar with horror movies. Allow me to explain, with as much brevity as possible, so you can better appreciate the nuances of this visually stunning and creepy movie.

But first, I must give kudos to the art direction. It’s a wonderful creaturefest of makeup, CGI-enhanced sets and coloration, and icky-monster costuming that’s quite a treat to watch. The creatures are nightmarish, in that nifty
damned-to-hell kind of way, and the sounds and music when Alessa’s mom goes deeper into that cursed town—especially when the siren blares a warning that the town is going ‘into the darkness’—is goosebumps inducing, evoking quite a horrific mood; and those embers glowing on the damned creatures’ bodies, and all that falling ash and pall over the town—again, Dante himself couldn’t have done any better.

The script is another matter entirely. The dialog, for instance, is atrocious. Many of the lines are eye-rollingly bad. The acting also needed better acting, especially during the climactic Barkeresque Hellraiser-styled confrontation in the church between Alessa’s mom and those evil cult members.

Mom does manage to walk through a congregation of crazed, kid-roasting individuals with amazing ease, doesn’t she?

And the verbal showdown between them is so contextually dry; I wish I had Visine to squirt in my eyes each time
they rolled around those groaners.

While I’m at it, what’s with the black, skin-tight, leather uniform on the female motorcycle cop: I mean really, could you get it any tighter? How DOES she get on the motorcycle dressed in those tight pants? All she needs
to complete her ludicrous ensemble is a pair of stiletto heels. Her weak acting during her own barbecue scene in the church is also very disappointing, especially when she’s the one being barbecued. A little more Ouch! or Ooh!
would have provided more drama.

But before I go off on a tangent, let me explain the plot.

Alessa, a poor kid born out of wed-lock and who winds up roasted like a turkey by an evil religious cult while
HER mom puts up little resistance, takes revenge on the townspeople of Silent Hill.

Though I’m not sure if this occurred before the fires broke out in the mines or afterwards. I’m also not
sure how the witch burning, thirty years beforehand, fits into the events with Alessa. There seem to be a few storylines going on here and little explanation to tie them together.

Anyway, from her hospital bed, the badly scarred and immobile Alessa, either through sheer malevolent will
power, or by the assistance of a hellish demon (maybe the witch’s familiar?) destroys the town and its citizens, forcing their spirits to ‘live’ in a nightmare world that puts Dante’s Inferno to shame. They must endure not only the hellish Limbo they’ve been caught in, but also the Darkness that brings Pyramid Head (you need to have played the video game, but a guy with a pyramid on his head) and his agonies (give or take a few like in the video game) to torture them if they’re unlucky enough to be caught outside their only sanctuary, the church.

Alessa, for some reason, sends off a good version of herself as a baby, now named Sharon, and then summons
Sharon back to Silent Hill after nine years. Since Sharon sleepwalks and blurts out “Silent Hill” in her sleep a lot, her mom, casting caution to the wind, takes her to Silent Hill.

Not exactly sure why since Sharon’s scared sh+tless of the place. Perhaps her mom is just taking that confronting your fears thing a little too seriously?

Yes, Silent Hill! The one with all the well-known, evilly-cursed stuff attached to it. A place so notorious,
Sharon’s father reads about it on the web at www.ghosttowns.com. This is the ABANDONED place that has had toxic fires burning beneath it for years, so much so that ash continually falls from the sky, and deadly fumes reek forth so badly not even a Glade Plug-in Air Freshener could cover it up.

So her mom takes her there, AT NIGHT, hoping to find out why her daughter keeps sleepwalking and saying
“Silent Hill” a lot and seems so frightened of the damned place.

Along the way they’re almost stopped by a dominatrix-looking motorcycle cop who dresses in impossibly tight
leather motorcycle garb (minus stiletto heels, though), but her mom is determined to bring Sharon (really Alessa) to that deserted, fires-still-burning, town (that nobody else wants to go near)—in the middle of the night no less—so she puts the pedal to the metal, promptly crashing her car in the process.

Mom wakes up, finds her daughter missing, and heads into town on foot. The motorcycle cop follows them, promptly crashes her motorcycle, and heads into town on foot, too.

Now, Mr. Ebert, here is where the subtlety begins.

You see, Sharon (really Alessa), her mom, and the motorcycle cop are actually dead, but they don’t realize it.
They died in their respective vehicular crashes. This is why they can be affected by the creatures and hellish darkness of Silent Hill while her husband, and the others searching for her, walk through the town unaffected and
unaware.

Now Alessa, as Sharon, has her mom and the cop go through quite a few trials and tribulations to find her so
she can use them to get into the church to send those evil cult members to Hell—well, more Hell that is, seeing as they’re all ready knee deep in it. Much gore ensues as Alessa gloats and tears them apart in a scene of ripping
butchery that Pinhead would be proud of. Sharon as Alessa–or Alessa as Sharon–and mom then walk back to the car, buckle themselves in for safety—this time—and head home.

Of course, there’s the confusing sequelization-antic ending (my term for forcing a sequel: clever, huh?), where
the husband is home as they return home, but he can’t see them and they can’t see him. The scene shifts between
husband in his nice sunlit home and them in their bleak, ominous-looking home. Sharon-now-Alessa, or the demon posing as Sharon-now-Alessa, gives us that sinister, look, so common in horror movies these days, to tip us off that it isn’t over until the franchise says it’s over.

With them being dead, though, how, exactly, does dead Alessa benefit from taking over now dead Sharon’s body?

And they (the script writers, I mean) still haven’t explained why the witch was burned or why the fires started
in the mines in the first place. Oh bloody hell. I thought I finally had it right this time. Crap.

Dear Mr. Ebert,

Never mind. You were right as usual.

Yours Truly,

Zoc

PS. We miss you.