Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn Scat. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng
Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn Scat. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng

Thứ Sáu, 15 tháng 8, 2014

SEPTIC MAN - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Presented by Raven Banner Entertainment, Jesse Thomas Cook's Masterpiece of Terror, written by Tony Burgess and produced by the visionary Foresight Festures, is a must-own title on DVD via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada. It will scare the crap out of you - LITERALLY!!!

SEPTIC MAN was one of my favourite genre pictures of 2013. In my various accolade lists, the movie scored big-time. In my Toronto After Dark Film Festival 2013 Best of the Fest round-up, I bestowed 10 - count 'em - 10 Greg Klymkiw "Film Corner Accolades" which included:

Most Disgusting Movie
Best Canadian Feature Film
Best Screenwriting: Tony Burgess
Best Art Direction/Production Design: Jason David Brown
Best Makeup: Alex Rotundo
Best Actress (Supporting): Nicole G. Leier
Best Social Commentary Content
Best Movie that DEMANDS a Sequel
Best Line of Dialogue: "I’m a civic-minded shit sucker."
Best Babe Taking a Shit and Vomiting: Nicole G. Leier.

In my 10 Best Lists, I named it one of the 10 BEST HORROR FILMS OF 2013 and in my overall round-up of accolades for the best of the year, I cited the film with my BEST VISUAL & SPECIAL MAKEUP EFFECTS of 2013 Oblation.


This is the result of E-coli poisoning in the water system of Collingwood. Enjoy!
A good SEPTIC MAN is hard to find.
Septic Man (2013) ****
Dir. Jesse Thomas Cook / Screenplay: Tony Burgess
Starring: Jason David Brown, Molly Dunsworth, Robert Maillet, Julian Richings,
Stephen McHattie, Tim Burd, Nicole G. Leier

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Any movie that opens with a weepy babe (Nicole G. Leier) taking a severely punishing crap replete with dulcet echoes of spurting, plopping and gaseous expulsions whilst said babe alternates twixt the release of putrid faecal matter with cum-shot-like geysers of stringy rancid vomit launching from within her maw, splattering triumphantly upon the grotesque tiles of a dimly lit toilet adorned top to bottom in slime, sludge, blown chunks and excrement, should be enough to alert viewers they're in for one mother-pounder of a wild ride into the deepest pits of scatological horror hell.

Septic Man, a new movie from the talented young Canadian horror auteur Jesse Thomas Cook (Monster Brawl), screenwriter Tony Burgess (Ejecta, Pontypool) and the visionary independent production company Foresight Features takes the cake (of the urinal variety) for serving up one heaping, horrific platter o' genre representation of the real-life deadly water contamination that occurred several years ago in the bustling Southern Ontario burgh of Walkerton - known around the world for its inbreeding and, of course, the famous E-coli contamination of its drinking water.

The Walkerton tragedy occurred in May of 2000 when some 5000 people flooded (so to speak) the hospitals with severe cases of bloody diarrhoea and a bevy of other tummy-related ailments. Heading up the Walkerton Public Utilities Commission were the Koebel Brothers, two real prizes who'd held their jobs for over thirty years in spite of having absolutely no qualifications to do so. Stan and Frank, fulfilling the respective responsibilities of manager and water foreman, claimed the drinking water was just fine - pure, clean and safe to drink.

Seven people died and a veritable shit-load (as it were) fell ill. The nastiness could have been averted if the trusty local fellas hadn't lied through their teeth. During a subsequent criminal investigation, the Koebel Boys admitted wrongdoing of astronomical proportions - Stan falsified reports and Frank had been happily juicing on the job because his office was not equipped with a fridge to keep beer cold.

It is this very case, ripped from Canadian headlines and firmly lodged in the country's history of endlessly incompetent public service that clearly inspired director Cook to cook-up (so to speak) this delectable sick puppy of a movie. With the nimble, twisted words of Pontypool, Ejecta scribe Tony Burgess, it's a simple tale with an accent on a claustrophobic setting. While some might compare Septic Man to the 80s Troma Films classic The Toxic Avenger, Cook and Burgess's mordant wit, the hallucinogenic horror styling, intelligent (albeit sledge hammer) social commentary and eye-assaulting viscous-splattering and pustule-sprouting imagery of the foulest kind, all bring it much closer to David Cronenberg's early work (most notably Shivers, Rabid and The Brood).

Rather than Walkerton, Cook chooses to set his fictitious horror movie rendering of heinous incompetence leading to a major health crisis in his home town of Collingwood, Ontario.

This, I will admit, is especially knee-slapping since Collingwood is known far more for tony tourism, over-priced retreats, upscale cottage country and a retirement community for rich old people as opposed to Walkerton's inbreeding claim to fame. While far more ludicrous, it is not, surprisingly, improbable.

Following the aforementioned opening five minutes of pre-credit babe-o-licious crapping and barfing, Septic Man introduces us to a televised report from Collingwood's Mayor (the indomitably brilliant Stephen McHattie) who, with the hilarious timbre of virtually every small town Ontario civic official intones the following with a perfectly appropriate straight face: "I’m gonna be honest with you, like I always am. I’m not going to pull any punches. We are in a heck of a goddamn situation here." He goes on to admit that his office has known for six weeks that the source of a local contamination is from the town's water supply, resulting in the deaths of 16 people and hundreds afflicted with ailments related to crypto sporidium and e-coli (including cholera). The Mayor goes on to announce a complete civilian evacuation of Collingwood orchestrated by military, law enforcement and federal officials.

While all hell breaks loose, we're introduced to the lone efforts of Jack (Jason David Brown), Collingwood's ace septic expert as he toils prodigiously in a stinking pool of sludge on the outskirts of a huge pollution-spewing factory that's emptying the most foul concoction of excrement, slime and dead rats into the town's water table. He's approached by Prosser (played with officious malevolence by one of Canada's finest character actors Julian Richings), a dapper gentleman who makes Jack a highly lucrative offer that just cannot be refused.

Prosser represents a "consortium". When Jack asks, "What's that?", Prosser simply declares: "Results, Jack." This implies that only a consortium, as opposed to government officials, are the only ones to acknowledge that our sludge-caked hero is the sole individual in town who has always been on top of various water-related issues. Furthermore, Prosser notes how Jack's efforts have largely gone been unappreciated by local authorities.

Jack wonders why he should risk staying behind when he has a responsibility to accompany his wife to the curling rink where Collingwood's residents are being bussed out. Prosser suggests that money will be the greatest incentive and a reward for Jack's service and prowess. He also throws in an offer wherein Jack will get a cushy desk job for life where he'll "do fuck-all but put your feet up." This is vaguely compelling, but Prosser seals the deal when he reminds Jack "Your wife probably smells shit every time you fuck her." Jack protests with, "Hey, my wife’s pregnant." Clearly the smell of shit hasn't kept the couple from procreating, but ultimately, Prosser's argument is genuinely the right thing to do.

"I’m a civic-minded shit sucker," Jack proclaims upon agreeing to the mission of delving deep into the bowels of the sewer system emptying into the water from the mysterious factory.

What follows is a lonely odyssey into the darkest depths of utter horror. Reality and nightmare become one as Jack uncovers a series of secret underground pipes and tunnels cluttered with corpses and body parts, then realizes he's trapped in a Knossos-like maze of filth presided over by two clearly inbred psychopaths, Lord Auch (Tim Burd) a nasty little thing with a mouthful of razor-sharp canines and a humungous, hulking, long-faced muscle man of few words (played by former WWF wrestling champ and star of such diverse genre favourites as 300, The Immortals, Pacific Rim and, of course, Cook's own hit Anchor Bay title from last year, Monster Brawl).

The special visual and makeup effects are, by the way, superb - right across the board - which comes as no surprise since the SFX team includes Canada's wizard of wonder Steven Kostanski (Astron-6, Manborg). Then again, one of the hallmarks of Foresight Features productions is the fact that so many of its key above the line creators have no problem doing double-triple-quadruple-quintuple and so on duties - immersing themselves in the entire process in a hands-on fashion. Cook, in particular, is a born filmmaker - cinema seems hardwired into his very DNA and he shares this quality with such new Canadian horror icons as Astron-6 and the Twisted Twins. This is how great low-budget movies get made, but more importantly, Foresight understands that you do NOT make low budget features that pathetically try to emulate the mainstream (including indies since most of them are bargain basement studio pictures anyway) - they seek to plumb depths that others do not dare dive into. They happily swim about in a world of shit.

Plumbing, of course, is exactly what this picture is all about and eventually, deep within the bowels of the factory's sewers, an infection sets in, and Jack begins to transform into something utterly hideous and horrific - something bordering, perhaps, on the immortal. Not unlike a number of seminal low budget cult films - David Lynch's Eraserhead in particular - Septic Man roams into nightmarish and hallucinogenic territory which is a delicious place for the film to go since it logically opens things up for all manner of illness.

Though there's a tiny bit of wheel-spinning that weights the picture down slightly in its middle portion, Cook has overall crafted a truly sickening, creepy and original horror gem that joins the ranks of Canada's west coast twins of the most twisted kind, the delightful Soskas who delivered American Mary and Winnipeg's Astron-6 who gave us the magnificent mega-bum-blaster Father's Day. Though some might feel Septic Man doesn't quite creep into modern masterpiece territory of the Soskas's body modification classic or the Astron-6 celebration of demonic sodomy, Jesse Thomas Cook with this and his supremely entertaining Monster Brawl is well on his way to carving a niche all his own into Canada's worthy tradition of audaciously sicko horror. Ultimately, Septic Man is indeed, a masterpiece of terror.

Between all three Canucks, they form a mighty trinity of delectably diseased subjects. In the name of the Father - Body Modification, The Son - Sodomy and The Holy Ghost - Excrement, young Canadian horror wizards are leaving the rest behind as mere dust in their tracks.

This is truly a must-see motion picture, but to be on the safe side, avoid eating Indian or Mexican cuisine prior to screening it (unless you truly feel the need to purge). And frankly, whether you feel the need to expunge or not, I recommend you load up on the Tums for your tummy before strapping on the feedbag to dine upon this exquisite cinematic cesspool of scary scatological horror that is Jesse Thomas Cook's brazenly foul Septic Man.

Septic Man, a Raven Banner presentation, is available on DVD via Anchor Bay Entertainment Canada and Anchor Bay Films on Aug. 19, 2014 with a lovely new transfer to enhance all of the blood and faecal matter. Sadly, there are no extra features. I'd have given my right testicle for a Jesse Thomas Cook commentary track. The movie enjoyed its World Premiere at Fantastic Fest 2013 in awesome Austin, Texas and launched a mighty home base turd in at the illustrious Toronto After Dark Film Festival 2013. Just buy the movie, already. IF YOU DON'T, YOU ARE A LOSER OF THE HIGHEST MAGNITUDE. 

Thứ Hai, 5 tháng 8, 2013

BAD MILO - Review By Greg Klymkiw - The tender tale of an anal intruder that kills. Namaste!!! Canadian premiere of new scat cult classic at Toronto Premiere, One Screening Only Thurs, Aug 29, 7pm, Seating from 6.30pm at Scotiabank Theatre, 259 Richmond St. W. Door. Restricted 18+ $13 Gen, $11 Students, Multipacks: $9.50 if buy 2+, $9 if buy All 4 Spotlight Films. Advance Tix at Cineplex.com. (Premiered at FanTasia 2013 Film Festival in Montreal) via Video Service Corp. (VSC)


Bad Milo (2013) ***1/2
Dir. Jacob Vaughan
Starring: Ken Marino, Gillian Jacobs, Peter Stormare, Patrick Warburton, Stephen Root, Mary Kay Place, Kumail Nanjiani, Jonathan Daniel Brown

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Are you fond of scatological humour? Do you find farts, faecal matter and good old fashioned anal action of interest? Do you seek solace in globs of blood and excrement splashing across the screen? Well, hang onto your ass-hats.

Bad Milo is the most preposterously priceless gross-out laugh-riot I've seen this year. Furthermore, what is simply inarguable is that this exhilarating, almost rapturous comedy is replete with juicy slabs of exquisitely marbled prime-cut horror, featuring the most odious, stench-ridden, bloodthirsty, flesh-slurping and downright disgusting monster in recent cinema history. That the big-eyed, razor-toothed rectal-cavity-dwelling title creature is also E.T.-Mogwai-cute, is the veritable pièce de résistance of this putridly satisfying vat of raw, untreated sewage. Bad Milo is a glorious non-stop barrage of celluloid wet farts aimed directly at your olfactory senses and leading straight to your funny bone.

At the outset of this crazed cult-classic-in-the-making, screenwriters Benjamin Hayes and Jacob Vaughan plunge us immediately into a terrifying P.O.V. of an angry, growling creature as it chases Ken (Ken Marino), nipping at his heels just before our hero bolts into relative safety and warns his babe-o-licious wife Sarah (Gillian Jacobs) to hide and lock herself in the basement - no matter what happens. As the creature on the other side of the closed door is about to batter its way through, we're zapped back in time as the title cards announce: "123 hours earlier."

A florid aural bleat leads us to a radiologist squirting globs of gelatin on Ken's abdomen to perform an ultrasound. He and Sarah are visiting with a specialist to determine the cause of recent stomach troubles and to see if they're in any way related to Ken's potency issues. The doctor examines the sonogram and asks Ken if he's been under any pressure. Well, aside from the pressure building up in his colon, Ken is rising up the ranks of an accounting corporation under the direct supervision of Phil (Patrick Warburton), a sleazy, loyalty-demanding taskmaster who holds all manner of juicy carrots under the young man's nose to inspire the performance of any number of dubious duties in return for eventual advancement opportunities.

The specialist determines that Ken has a polyp deep inside his poop chute which, he claims, is probably the result of poor stress management. He asks Ken how much time he spends in the bathroom on a daily basis to expunge his faecal matter. Ken responds, “I’m in the bathroom a lot, but it’s not extreme.” The look on Sarah's face says otherwise, so Ken comes clean (so to speak) and admits he averages 90 minutes on the crapper over the course of a day.

The specialist utters quite the understatement: "This is hugely concerning."

No matter.

The good doctor recommends an Endoscopic polypectomy, an especially horrific experience (to which I can personally attest after a few trips to the appropriately named Rudd Clinic in Toronto) wherein a huge pole is inserted into the anus and a snake-like camera wends its way through the colon until the polyp is spotted and a steel lasso takes hold of the distasteful growth and, in the rather over-zealous specialist's description, "pops it like a plum off a tree."

Ken's job until the procedure is to rest and stay stress-free. This proves easier said than done: things are heating up at work whilst Ken's bowel-movement-and-fertility-obsessed Mom (the legendary Emmy-Award winning Mary Kay Place who portrayed Loretta Haggers on Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman) drives him completely nuts. Pressures mount so considerably that Ken's nightly trysts with the matrimonial toilet bowl are so fraught with grunts, groans, screams and noisy expulsions of gas that his beautiful wife goes to bed alone, unsatisfied, but at least able to sleep through the cacophonous bowel movement exertions thanks to the wads of foam plugs she jams deep into her ears.

In desperation, Ken agrees to meet with the unconventional New Age therapist Highsmith (Peter Stormare, unforgettable as Steve Buscemi's laconic, psychopathic partner in crime in the Coen Brothers' Fargo). What's discovered here is Ken's worst nightmare. Actually, it would be anyone's worst nightmare. A rare, ages-old demon has manifested itself directly from Ken's stress and is prime to murder anyone causing undue pressure to our hero. When Ken releases the demon, it's like he's taking a really painful crap, but once it's out, great relief follows.

It doesn't take long for the carnage to begin - punctuated every so often with ultra-extreme rectal activity. Though Ken's poop monster is slowly eradicating everyone causing him stress, the last thing our hero wants is for people to die - especially those who are closest to him.

The laughs come fast and furious, the gore is geyser-like and eventually the film builds to a climax that is as hilarious as it is downright suspenseful. Yet, for all its gross-out qualities, you might be shocked to discover that the writing is as clever as it is disgustingly on (and in) the nose - yes, at its core, the movie is both a love story and a father-son story - with poo, bum and fart gags, of course.

Though co-writer Jacob Vaughn's direction might lack the glorious panache of a Sam Raimi or Brian De Palma, he handles both the comedy and suspense with assurance, impeccable craft and exuberance. Someone also had the good taste to secure and encourage the brilliant music by Ted Masur, who delivers a score that's reminiscent of the work of Pino Donaggio, Angelo Badalamenti and John Carpenter all mashed into a glorious casserole of homage, satire and straight-up scary music styling.

Last, but not least, the design and execution of Milo himself is a thing of unparalleled low-budget beauty and ingenuity. He's a great monster. And yes, he kind of looks like a blob of poo - only with eyes, ears, mouth, teeth and various appendages allowing him to claw, scratch, tear and run like the wind. Like poo, when Milo dives into the comfort of Ken's anus, he's gently reminded, "Be safe in there. Don’t rip anything." When we were first told during the 1978 release of Richard Donner's Superman, "You will believe a man can fly," Bad Milo proclaims: "You will believe that a flesh-eating demon can live comfortably in a man's asshole."

Most importantly, if you ever wanted to see a movie in which the legendary Peter Stormare utters the line: "Maybe your anus is just like a vagina," then I can undoubtedly assure you that Bad Milo is a motion picture that has your name written all over it.

"Bad Milo" is a VSC release and plays Toronto Premiere, One Screening Only

Thurs, Aug 29, 7pm, Seating from 6.30pm at Scotiabank Theatre, 259 Richmond St. W. Door. Restricted 18+
$13 Gen, $11 Students, Multipacks: $9.50 if buy 2+, $9 if buy All 4 Spotlight Films. Advance Tix atCineplex.com.

 enjoys its Canadian premiere at the FanTasia 2013 Film Festival in Montreal.