Flux Gourmet (2022)

WTFA gastronomic grotesque, Peter Strickland’s Flux Gourmet explores issues of patriarchy, intimacy, trauma, oppression, artistic integrity and unrelenting flatulence — “seldom malodorous,” mind you.

At the Sonic Catering Institute, a three-person culinary collective undertakes a four-week residency. Fronted by Elle (Fatma Mohamed, Strickland’s The Duke of Burgundy) the trio is a dysfunctional, codependent mess. That could also describe its performance art, if said act can be properly described at all, being displays in which the auditory co-exists with the alimentary. The institute’s head (Gwendoline Christie, Strickland’s In Fabric) puts Elle and her teammates (Assassin’s Creed’s Ariane Labed and Hugo himself, Asa Butterfield) through seemingly nonsensical exercises involving graph paper or grocery-store improv. A glacial-level fracture forms.

Documenting this monthlong experience of epicurean toxicity is a journalist (Makis Papadimitriou, Chevalier) struggling with a secret: painful, excessive farting. Strickland being Strickland, that’s hardly the film’s most outrageous aspect, as he marries concepts from the two aforementioned films with the sound-dependent conceit of his 2012 breakthrough, Berberian Sound Studio. Then he bakes that mix at an exponent of 350˚ for 111 minutes until unclassifiable, and serves with avocado paste, mint sauce and an omelet-related fetish. You won’t know what hit you — a great thing indeed.

Although sound designer Tim Harrison (Censor) is the picture’s unsung hero, Mohamed’s performance looms large with an absolute fearlessness. As discomforting and disturbing as Flux Gourmet is, it’s also brutally funny, with comedy as dark as the innermost section of the human intestinal tract. Those laughs serve as a salve as Strickland transports his audience from the EVOO to the OMFG. Prepare to swear off Nutella and smoothies for life. —Rod Lott

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Video Murders (1988)

From Mountaintop Motel Massacre director Jim McCullough Sr. and writer Jim McCullough Jr., the Shreveport, Louisiana-shot Video Murders posits a sad world in which single-dude schlubs watch homemade snuff tapes while eating Chinese takeout. At least that’s the case for David, played by Private Lessons pupil Eric Brown — the only remotely recognizable face in this cheap and dreary psycho thriller, unless Radio Shack Computer Center signage counts.

To a tinny score that sounds like TV’s Tales from the Darkside theme breeded with Sears’ 1975 Pong console, David’s hobby is renting, handcuffing and fatally choking hookers, in that order, all under the watchful eye of his VHS camera. Investigating detective Lt. Jerry Delvechio (John P. Fertitta, The Evictors) puts it best: “He’s a real freak!” In his first scene, Delvechio mentions David as the suspect in these serial killings without explaining how he knows.

Thirty minutes in, David attends a concert by The Insatiables, whose New Wave-coiffed lead sings, “He dreams in black and white.” This unassuming lyrics flips David’s switch like he’s The Manchurian Candidate, triggering flashbacks … from the past half-hour we just watched. Sadly, none are of what has to be regional cinema’s most incredible weather report.

Still, he manages to leave the club with a lonely, but still-too-cute-for-him receptionist (Virginia Loridans of the aforementioned Massacre) named Melissa Rivers. He treats her like she’s one of his disposable call girls, belching loudly near her face, holding her hostage and playing her Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 8 in C minor, Op. 13.

Thank God Delvechio has the foresight to hit up the greasy diner to get valuable info out of the registered nurse little person (one-timer Marti Anding Brooks as the dictionary-sounding Miriam Webster). Although David is responsible for the videoing and the murdering of Video Murders, the movie plays like a pilot for Lt. Delvechio — hopefully titled Delvechio — vying for space alongside McCloud and Columbo in The NBC Mystery Movie lineup. It never happened. Sorry about that, folks; back to you, Sylvia. —Rod Lott

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Spider in the Attic (2021)

Usually, low-budget creature features oversell themselves. The British-born Spider in the Attic presents itself as a rare exception — but only because it has multiple spiders versus the singular promise of the title. In every other case, it disappoints as expected.

The prologue shows scientist Dr. Zizerman (Chris Cordell, The Curse of Humpty Dumpty) pitching a fit over being fired for his unethical practices and skirting regulations. See, he’s genetically altered a regular spider to become a rather large hissing spider with a scorpion-like stinger, deliberately kept in low light to shield the sheer shittiness of the CGI. It escapes its glass box and kills Dr. Z in his bed. Kinky.

Linda Buxton (Nicola Wright, Top Secret!) is a flailing producer of true crime shows. Her career’s on the verge of cancellation when her home-from-the-military daughter (Sarah Alexandra Marks, Easter Bunny Massacre) and pregnant daughter (Chelsea Greenwood, Amityville Scarecrow), convince her she just needs to solve the mystery of Dr. Zizerman’s death to bring in the numbers. The Buxton women head to the abandoned house, with others on hand to assist. Despite gripping mugs of tea, having harsh bangs or wearing opera gloves, somehow not a single one is named Penelope.

As you can guess, spiders attack, but director/co-writer Scott Jeffrey (Cannibal Troll) sure takes his damn sweet time to let them loose. Killing the entire vibe of such a enterprise, the arachnids come so crudely computer-animated, they’re not threatening. In shots calling for numerous ones, it looks like whoever was running the effects program followed — and repeated — this uninspired series of keystrokes: Select > Copy > Paste > Scale > Rotate.

One thing’s for sure: If Spider in the Attic were shot in the fall, any nearby residents hoping to score fake cobwebs for a seasonal porch display were certain to encounter an empty shelf at the shoppe. Ditto for the cotton balls aisle. —Rod Lott

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A Town Full of Ghosts (2022)

We Bought a Zoo can F itself, because Mark and Jenna have bought a ghost town.* Their plans are to revitalize the remote, abandoned Old West town of Blackwood Falls into a family-friendly shopping destination and tourist attraction.

A recovering alcoholic turned workaholic, Mark (Andrew C. Fisher, 2010’s Night Music) is so sure it’ll work, he’s sunk their life savings into it. Jenna (Mandy Lee Rubio, Jurassic Tale) is … well, doing her damnedest to stay a supportive spouse.

The premise is not unlike this year’s millennial-driven Texas Chainsaw Massacre reboot, swapping one boogeyman for a boogeywoman. After digitally signing on the dotted line, of course, our couple learns Blackwood Falls’ true history: The Texas townspeople thought the brothel to be run by witches, not bitches, so they burned it to the ground and buried its prostitutes in a mass grave. Oops!

Minus a few flourishes impossible for Mark’s camera to catch, A Town Full of Ghosts plays as found footage intended for his YouTube channel. Even in his dead-of-night sojourns (Where’s that piano music coming from? Do you smell smoke?), he’s smashing that “REC” button almost as often as he pushes Jenna’s buttons of evaporating patience.

The found-footage subgenre has become so overused the last two decades, especially by indie filmmakers, because going that route maximizes what little resources are at their disposal. Therefore, it’s a bit of a wonder writer/director Isaac Rodriguez (Last Radio Call) is able to prove there’s life in it yet. He adds elements that work so well, they justify its use, from a wasp nest that grows exponentially overnight to, best of all, the ghost town’s wooden maze. The POV sequences of stumbling through it in darkness ring particularly effective; Rodriguez even tops it with an overhead drone shot that approximates the God-like view a classic video game, as we see Mark turning left and right, unable to see the horror ahead.

The movie’s not perfect, as Mark’s transformation seems rushed and some digital effects work diminish the scares. Still, amped by the built-in atmosphere, those frights are present and largely work, in part by the movie closing up shop at an economical 67 minutes. —Rod Lott

*In actuality, We Bought a Zoo can also F itself for being We Bought a Zoo.

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NOW OUT: Flick Attack Movie Arsenal: Book One

“Nobody — and I mean nobody — dissects and dismembers films as memorably, cleverly and heartlessly.”
—Herschell Gordon Lewis

From Abraxas: Guardian of the Universe to Zoombies — with at least one L.A. AIDS Jabber and a spare Yo-Yo Girl Cop somewhere in between — nearly 1,500 genre and exploitation movies undergo the spotlight and/or scalpel in the fully packed Flick Attack Movie Arsenal: Book One, our first book.

Expect horror, action, sci-fi, comedy, kung fu, sex and mystery, not to mention all seven regrettable Police Academy installments and an alarming number of titles containing exclamation points. (Warning: Do not expect drama. If you want tears, we’ll be happy to kick you in the shins — no deposit, no return.)

Continue reading NOW OUT: Flick Attack Movie Arsenal: Book One

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