I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book. - Groucho Marx


by A Wolfe
May 24, 2017
When Something Weird released José Mojica Marins’ catalogue of psychedelic “Mouth of Garbage” Brazilian horror flicks, US audiences fell in love with Coffin Joe, the so-bad-he’s-good undertaker character Marins plays in almost all of his films. Even in the UK, the goth-pop band The Horrors has a member who’s renamed himself Coffin Joe in honor of Marins’ character, who didn’t get his Anglicized name until the 90s, when Europeans got into bizarro cinema...
A Wolfe is a writer and director in Los Angeles. awolfeswolfworld.wordpress.com

by Chris Martin
May 19, 2017
Some titles are inescapable. The Day the Earth Stood Still, Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia, and Don’t Look Now all carry that spark of burning curiosity that is the basic draw of all genre films. They give you an effect or a demand without revealing the subject of the action. We don’t know why the Earth stood still, or what Alfredo Garcia did, nor do we know what we can’t look at now and why not, but in all these cases the less known about the subject makes the film that much more appetizing. Surf Nazis Must Die may reveal too many of its cards at the forefront, despite the fact that its commanding, declarative tone does raise, arguably unneeded, questions. Its absurd power is too great to hide behind such things as nuance and subtlety. Swastikas on wetsuits and switchblades on surfboards cannot, and should not, be hidden behind a curtain of restraint. Life is too short to keep flamboyantly dressed surfing fascists out of the limelight..
Christopher Martin recently graduated from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst with a degree in English and a specialization in Film Studies. Shockingly, he is currently underemployed. In his free time Chris likes to read old science fiction novels, enjoy what little nightlife Western Massachusetts has to offer, and watch as many films as possible. He also spends too much time on Tumblr.

by Daniel Creahan
May 17, 2017

Jerzy Kucia’s work occurs in a world held at arm’s length from reality; the familiar forms of humanity -- our bodies, accessories, instruments -- all remain in the foreground, but floating in a vague disconnect from each other, lending each other a weight not always possible in the linear approach of traditional animation approaches.  Even time and movement find themselves removed in a way that’s startlingly refreshing, and, perhaps more notably, remarkably vocal.

With the exception of a few scraps of music, flares of radio static and churning machines, these films operate almost exclusively on their own silent language, a stark economy of symbols and settings woven into dense abstractions of the Polish identity...

Daniel Creahan currently spends his days in Brooklyn, NY, dividing time between music, writing, and questionable photoshop collaging.  He prefers any and all of these while slamming 3-5 cups of coffee and wearing a warm pair of slippers.  You can read him complaining about Rihanna on his Twitter (@SupposedGhosts), or check out some music at his label (prisonartcatalog.com).

by Anthony Galli
May 14, 2017

The finest works of science fiction or horror are always nothing more than a reflection of the society from which they spring. They do not rely on imaginary monsters to produce fear in their viewers, but instead are resonant and prescient in their ability to subscribe to the inner tensions percolating just below the surface. Rod Serling knew this, which is probably why The Twilight Zone still finds a captive audience generation after generation. Serling would take an ordinary situation with ordinary people and expose the undercurrents of anxiety that motivate individuals to perform irrationally. As more fear and panic infect individuals like a virus, seismic societal shifts result, breeding widespread movements enacted to protect the status quo against unforeseen danger. George A. Romero knew this when he created Night of the Living Dead in 1968.

Author JG Ballard has traversed the intersection of science fiction and psychology since the 1950’s, and with Crash!, in 1969, he created a multimedia work that would eventually combine the aesthetics of advertisement, performance art, and literature. Crash! was initially conceived in 1968, as Crash, a play that would feature a crashed car on stage with actors portraying blood-soaked crash victims, and filmed footage of actual car crashes projected behind the stage. This didn’t happen; Ballard found no backers for his controversial proposal. A year later, the gallery installation “Jim Ballard: Crashed Cars,” which incorporated not one but three salvaged foreign and domestic wrecked autos, premiered at the New Arts Lab in London. “Each of these sculptures is a memorial to a unique collision between man and his technology,” Ballard wrote in the program for the installation, concluding, “The car crash is the most dramatic event we are likely to experience in our entire lives apart from our own deaths.” At the exhibition’s opening, the drunken gallery patrons were subjected to a topless woman who interviewed them for a live closed-circuit television broadcast that further confused and angered them, provoking violent acts upon the crashed cars at the center of the performance. Obviously, Ballard was operating outside of the constraints of traditional “literature,” edging into the realm of perceptible human behavior, with all of its attendant motivations and manifestiations...

Anthony Galli currently lives in Athens, Georgia. He shares a birthday with his black cat, Magic, and they both claim Wings of Desire as their favorite film. Anthony has published two books of poetry, Amnesia for Insomniacs and Invisible Idiot.

by Joe DeMartino
May 3, 2017


Breezy, released in 1973, is Eastwood’s third film as director. It’s a testament to his burgeoning skill in the medium that he’s able to take the story of a middle-aged real estate agent who falls in love with a woman much younger than himself and have it not seem all that creepy. It’s helped dramatically by a script that treats the two main characters with a certain amount of respect. Their situation is odd but their motivations aren’t, and Eastwood makes them feel like actual human beings. In an era where the term “exploitation” came to mean a genre rather than a crime, Breezy seems to be anything but exploitative.

Romantic movies are only ever as good as their paired leads. The original plan for Breezy was to have Eastwood as Frank Harmon, the main male character played as a wounded Casanova by William Holden. Eastwood has obvious chops as an actor, but I’m not sure that...


Joe DeMartino is a Connecticut-based writer who grew up wanting to be Ted Williams, but you would not BELIEVE how hard it is to hit a baseball, so he gave that up because he writes words OK. He talks about exploding suns, video games, karaoke, and other cool shit at his blog. He can be emailed at jddemartino@gmail.com and tweeted at @thetoycannon. He writes about sports elsewhere. The sports sells better.