DEAD & BURIED (1981) Review: Grotesque SFX & Unjustified Moral Panic

Yes, it’s grotesque but Gary Sherman’s direction remains effectively creepy, Stan Winston’s SFX is impressive 40+ years later – and Joe Renzetti’s soundtrack is to die for!

Yes, it’s grotesque but Gary Sherman’s direction remains effectively creepy, Stan Winston’s SFX is impressive 40+ years later – and Joe Renzetti’s soundtrack is to die for!

Directed by Lewis Teague, and written by acclaimed horror novelist Stephen King, Cat’s Eye is a horror anthology film comprising three segments: “Quitters, Inc.”, “The Ledge”, and “General”.

Widely regarded as a cinematic icon of the horror genre, Vincent Price’s first foray into the world of the macabre was working alongside Boris Karloff in 1939’s Tower of London for Universal Pictures. However, it was 1953’s House of Wax that would elevate Price into the pantheon of horror stardom.

Since his debut in 1982 with the light-hearted sword and sorcery fantasy, The Sword and the Sorcerer, Albert Pyun has directed over fifty feature-length genre films. So to say that Pyun, as a director, was prolific is an understatement… Just like his cybernetic creations, Albert Pyun was a machine!

Who doesn’t adore Mexican sci-fi/horror cinema? Whilst consuming everything from 1968’s The Batwoman to 1970’s Santo and Blue Demon vs. the Monsters, I stumbled upon the poster for Harry Essex’s Octaman and I knew I had to track down a copy of this 1971 creature feature! There was something reminiscent about the humanoid octopus… As it turns out, I was already quite familiar with Essex’s monstrous creation! Even if you haven’t seen this movie, you’ve likely seen the titular creature.

If you are looking for a subgenre of horror that emphasized graphic violence and shock value above all else, look no further than the Italian cannibal movies of the 1970s and 1980s.

Friends, Britons and fellow James Bond fans, lend me your eyes – I come to praise Sean Connery, not to bury him. One of the last few movie stars left over from the dying days of the studio system, and arguably the most famous British actor of his, or any, generation, Connery embodied the old Hollywood male lead aesthetic better than most of his contemporaries.

Set in both stunning and imposing locations with tenacious female leads, Jack Clayton’s The Innocents (1961) and Herk Harvey’s Carnival of Souls (1962) offer an intimate and highly psychological examination of the female mind whilst ruminating heavily and hauntingly on the age-old themes of sex and death.

I’m going to be honest here; I don’t really know what happened in this movie. I mean I think I do, but I’m not entirely sure. So, apologies in advance to the filmmakers who obviously put so much work into this psychedelic (often referred to as “acid” or what I’ve dubbed “twistern”) western filmed primarily in Wales. A bounty hunter is hired to collect a…demon gunslinger? Story points are integrated into the plot just as they are in most movies, other than the great Godfrey Reggio’s experimental eye candy, sure. But do they add to the proceedings or just further confuse the world that’s been created?
Ladies and gentlemen, in this corner we have the classic 1977 David Cronenberg film, Rabid. In the opposite corner, we have the Glenn Danzig opus, Verotika. Is one a better film than the other? Will the cult classic crush the newcomer or will the Master Misfit cut new horror film ground based on his comic book kingdom?
If you’re like me, your interest in anything Danzig related was piqued the moment it was announced he was working on a movie. Unfortunately, the promise faded with ever passing time…
Tank Girl’s protagonist is a sexually-liberated, confident, independent woman who, quite literally, spits in the face of her oppressors. Kesslee doesn’t want to beat Tank Girl, he wants her to join him. But she refuses to be co-opted by the mainstream. It’s the fault of riot grrrl, of course. There’s a bold, alternative spirit to Tank Girl, thanks in no small part to its soundtrack.
“You ain’t got to pull that Blacula shit with me.” The line is an attempt to link what seems to be a half-hearted star-vehicle with something else: blaxploitation. By simultaneously comparing Murphy’s ’90s effort with its ’70s predecessor, whilst slyly digging at the older genre’s foibles, the gag it is a somewhat noble, if pithy, effort to give Vampire in Brooklyn more heft.