COACHELLA
starring PIXIES, MORRISSEY, FLAMING LIPS, BJöRK, BELLE & SEBASTIAN, KOOL KEITH, OASIS, THE ARCADE FIRE, RADIOHEAD, POLYPHONIC SPREE, and many more...
directed by Drew Thomas, Color, , 2006

Distributed by Goldenvoice
Film Reviewed By: Chris Beyond

I was a little skeptical going into this film. Coachella as live music gathering is no Woodstock. But then again, the last Woodstock festival was no Woodstock either (ending in riots and rape). That would have made an interesting sequel, eh? People pretending to be as spontaneous as the people from the original festival of peace and love by rolling around in mud, but this time formed from drainage run-off from the porta-potties. Half nude omen being spray-painted in vibrant colors by dirty old men armed with airbrushes and instant cameras. And how could we forget LIMP BIZKIT?

Ok... I think, that being said, we should thank the heavens that Coachella is NOT Woodstock. One thing I've noticed from going to Coachella is how unbelievably clean it is. The fields seem to reach forever and you're never very crowded unless you want to be. It's also very hot. Very very hot. So hot that I spent much time in the video game tent. Not to lay games or hide in the shade,...but to play games while hiding in the shade, while enjoying the huge air conditioning tubes leading into the tent. For some, perhaps seeing this film would be more bearable than standing out in the heat. For most who have been there, a film like this can never live up to the experience of being there.

Film film opens with a short vintage film clip featuring a farmer talking about how the Coachella valley was changing through the years and the history of the grounds themselves that, unknown to the speaker, would become host to hundreds of thousands of people coming from all over the world to see an annual concert featuring to top independent and alternative music acts. Heck, even our friends in DIOS MALOS played Coachella.

Sadly, we don't see DIOS in the film, but I can understand why. How could you squeeze them into a two hour film already squeezed full of excellent bands...and ZERO 7 too. (Ok, well I can't like everything.) In this film you'll see great live footage of bands like BELLE & SEBASTIAN, KOOL KEITH, MORRISSEY, THE POLYPHONIC SPREE, and so many more. I dare not forget to mention the PIXIES. You also get to see interviews with some of the bands who have played the festival and various people they found wandering around the concert grounds.

Of course the whole point of this film is to showcase the bands who have played the show. And that is something this film delivers in spades. Wait... Spades is good, right? Yes. Yes, I think it is. So I liked the style of the film. Many times bands would have some kind of snappy introduction either by another band or personality talking about them or just by showing off the art installation pieces on the concert grounds that would blend into the live act. All of the performances captured in this film are great. I won't say flawless. There are band flubs here and there, but in the case of this movie, it only adds to the richness. Rarely are concerts perfect. If you knew a bands was going to sound just like they do on the album, then why would anyone bother seeing them live? Sorry Ashley Simpson.

No wait, I'm NOT Sorry. Ashley Simpson you are an idiot...in my opinion anyway.

Standout performances to me were BELLE & SEBASTIAN doing "Boy With The Arab Strap" and having a lot of stage fun and silliness, Björk's always haunting rendition of "All Is Full Of Love", IGGY & THE STOOGES (featuring No-Fi "interviewee" Mike Watt on Bass) playing "I Wanna Be Your Dog" where Iggy Pop is correctly described as looking much like a grizzled wire, THE POLYPHONIC SPREE looking much like the Hale Bop cultists on stage while belting out a lively rendition of "It's The Sun", SQUAREPUSHER doing a short live riffing number, KOOL KEITH just being plain excellent, Meg White's boobs (I'm sorry, but c'mon!), Morrissey being accosted on stage with hugs while performing "November Spawned A Monster", and the PIXIES playing "Where Is My Mind" to a crowd that had been waiting far too long for them to finally reunite and play the music that they were always meant to play and has inspired so many bands like almost anyone in the UK to NIRVANA in the U.S. I was at that show and I think there were better songs from that performance to use, but I understand why they used it. I do LOVE how the PIXIES are acknowledged here as a highly influential band.

There was a bit of buildup to THE FLAMING LIPS when their lead singer rolled across the audience in a giant space ball, but I think it would have been better had they used the actual song that was played when he did that instead of the one they used ("Yoshimi Vs. The Pink Robots") which was good, but not the same experience with the space bubble walk edited in.

The shows looked great to begin with so it was almost a given that they would look good on film too. The framing and editing are tight AND smooth. At the premiere that I just returned from, there was a reel change problem which may have led to the film slowing down (or was it a clever way to mix it up?), but other than that. One thing to consider is that the film experience depends on how you feel about these bands to begin with. I didn't like everyone, but the film always kept my interest even when PRODIGY took the stage.

So if you like any of these bands or even if you're not to familiar with them, this is a good film to see when it comes to your town. Think of it like a mini version of the Coachella festival on tour...and you get to sit right on stage!

(Chris Beyond is the creator of No-Fi "Magazine"
and hides out in video game tents during concerts)

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EROTIC NIGHTS OF THE LIVING DEAD
starring George Eastman, Laura Gemser, Dirce Funari, Mark Shannon
directed by Joe D'Amato, Color, , 1980

PORNO HOLOCAUST
starring eorge Eastman, Mark Shannon, Dirce Funari, Annj Goren
directed by Joe D'Amato, Color, , 1981

Distributed by Media Blasters
both DVDs Reviewed By: Ryan Lies

Back in the days of “porno chic,” back when porn was shot on film, had actual storylines, and (sometimes) “real stars” in them, there was a sick little subgenre called Horror Porn. Producers and directors, figuring they could make even more money from the pot-smoking, trench coat wearing deviants in the grind houses of Times Square, combined elements of the two most easily made and marketable genres, usually with hilariously awful results.

These movies generally stunk, but hey, you gotta give 'em credit for at least trying. Or, I think they were trying. Probably not. But the “shoot-off” of these creative endeavors have nonetheless found their way into the hearts and loins of many a sleaze fan, and two of the more (in)famous titles have made their way onto DVD for the discerning connoisseur.

I include both films in this reviews, as both are pretty much interchangeable. They feature the same director and writer, many of the same performers, same locations, same production values and FX artist … Oh, and they're both absolutely terrible movies. Doesn't mean they don't have their amusing qualities, though.

Erotic Nights of the Living Dead (aka Sexy Nights of the Living Dead, as the title card informs us; a title, I must admit, I like much better) was the first to “come” out, and it tells the rather simple story of a developer who wants to build a new, massive hotel on a supposedly cursed island, inhabited only by an old man (with a huge BUMP on his forehead), his sexy, mysterious granddaughter, and their equally strange cat, who spends most of its time crawling around the markers in an old graveyard.

Once on the island, the developer, his girlfriend, and the captain of the boat they have chartered are besieged by ghostly, amorous visitations from the granddaughter, and less than comforting visits from a bunch of slow-moving zombies. And when I slow, I mean slow. You could outwalk these ghouls in your sleep, man. I fast-forwarded through their scenes (which go on forever) and they were still slow as hell!

Anyway, this movie's just one stupid, junky scene after another, with very little in the way of gore (what there is of it is kinda cool, though) and sex. Well, at least sexy sex. None of the “erotic” sequences are particularly titillating. There's a funny striptease, where the stripper removes a cork from a champagne bottle with her vagina. (Check out the music in this scene, too. It's hilarious!) The only sex scene I even remotely found any interest in was the one where Eastman and Gemser do it in the water because Eastman's facial expressions are quite odd, and because I think Laura Gemser (Emmanuelle in America) is one sexy babe, and you get to see enough of her here to make it worth watching (nice tush, Laura!)

Highlights include: George Eastman manages to bang every chick in the flick, without EVER undoing his pants. It's uncanny! And the bump on the old guy's forehead is really a sight to behold. You thought Van Damme's bump was hot, check this baby out! It steals the show … cuz you really can't take your eyes off it! I kept expecting it to bust open and eat someone.

On top of all that, the films has one of the silliest and mind-bogglingly obtuse endings of I have ever seen. Thanks to Eastman's performance, it is both (unintentionally) creepy and piss-your-pants funny.

Porno Holocaust has the better title, but is less entertaining. This time around, Eastman and co. take off to a deserted island (the same from Erotic Nights) to investigate reports of radiation in the area. See, an atomic bomb was tested there years ago, and mutated animals have been found by fishermen. There's also been a few gory murders at the hands of mutated monsters of some kind that eat flesh and drink blood.

Meanwhile, a scientist and her lover are looking anywhere and everywhere for sexual kicks. They engage in a lesbian tryst after having the shortest and goofiest lap-fight in the movie history. I never laughed so hard in my life. After that, one of the lusty young lasses is off to get gang-banged by a couple of well-hung male prostitutes who, as she puts it, “really reamed me out, those bastards.”

One the island resides a oatmeal-faced zombie cannibal who was left behind after the atomic bomb test. He falls in love with one of the girls in the expedition, kidnaps her, and brings her back to his cave (like in Eegah!, only with worse set design.) The monster just wants to be loved but naturally that ain't gonna happen, so he commences to killing and raping those who would deny him his dreams. The funniest scene in the movie involves him raping one of the other girls while she's unconscious. I know, I know, that sounds horrible, but it's done so poorly and looks so silly … oh, just trust me: when you see it, you'll understand.

One other scene that deserves mention here is one of the first male/female sex scenes. It's the usual suck-n-fuck shenanigans, but it's accompanied by some of the most insipid, incongruous music I have ever seen put to pornography. It's like a Carly Simon ballad or something. So you get super close-ups of a bumpy ball sack, all while some wistful folksy chick is singing about the beauties of love. Wow. This is worth the price of admission alone!

That said, neither of these movies is gonna do much for you, in either the porn or the horror department. Both are full of long, expository sequences; and the most scenes of characters just walking around I have ever seen this side of a Jean Rollin film.

I enjoyed Erotic Nights more than I did Porno, but, ironically, the version of Erotic Nights I saw was the “cut” version, and all of the hardcore shots were removed. However, considering that both of these films are overlong by about 40 minutes each, this was actually a blessing. (Interestingly, the Porno Holocaust DVD features the uncut trailer for Erotic Nights, so what I missed in the actual movie, I saw in the trailer; as much as I needed, or wanted to, anyway.)

Both are silly enough to enjoy late at night with a few beers, but I recommend keeping your finger poised on the FF button, cuz there's plenty to skip through in both these movies, and I guarantee you won't really miss anything.

Wanna see a REALLY twisted porno? Try Caligula. It's got plenty of sex, plenty of outrageous gore, a cyclops, AND Peter O'Toole. Now there's a Horror Porn for ya!

I'm gonna go ahead and get this out of the way, call a spade a spade, not beat around the bush, and just tell it, as they say, "like it is."

Snuff is a completely useless movie. It is boring. It sucks. There, I did it; I laid it all out for you right here and now at the start of my review. If you want to go ahead and get on with your day, be my guest. You needn't bother, really, with the rest of this review, because, unless you're a die-hard, Sleazoid, exploitation completist freak (like me), then what follows will be of absolutely no interest to you, and reading it will take valuable minutes off your life.

All right, for those of us still here, this is the deal. Snuff is a crappy movie, no doubt, but it carries with it a legend. And that legend, as is the case with most legends, transcends the material with which it is inexorably linked. In fact, Snuff, the actual movie, could vanish right off the face of the planet tomorrow, and as long as the "legend" stuck around, everything would remain exactly as it had before the movie disappeared.

What I'm saying is, you don't actually need to watch the movie to get in on the whole thing. It's sort of like one of those bargain-bin, previously-viewed VHS horror flicks you might pick up for a buck at the mom and pop video store that's going out of business down the street. One of those in a BIG BOX, with kick ass, lurid as hell, cheesy 80s cover art (I'm thinking, maybe, Mausoleum). And you sit it on your shelf at home, but will probably NEVER EVER watch it. Or, even if you do, and you realize how much it sucks, you still keep it sitting on the shelf cuz that big box cover art looks great.

You know what I'm talking about. And that's what the Snuff experience pretty much boils down to. It's a cinematic curio, a conversation piece. Nothing more.

What little plot there is concerns a Manson-esque cult of murderers, dope heads, and chicks who spend a lot time riding around on motorcycles. There's some sort of occult cabal involving the birth of a child to be sacrificed at the hands of cult leader Satan (which here is pronounced like baton. Oooh, creepy.) A girl is tortured and raped, someone is murdered at a parade, and in between all this boring tripe, there's even MORE boring tripe: montages, soporific sex scenes, overused stock footage, ad nauseum, ad infinitum …

Snuff was originally a film called Slaughter, directed by the Findlays (a husband and wife team of exploitation “auteur,” who had previously unleashed such dubious classics as Shriek Of The Mutilated and Invasion Of The Blood Farmers onto the undiscriminating 42nd Street sleaze crowd). Slaughter wasn't released for several years, and only after the nefarious distributor, Alan Shackle ton (whom Roberta later married and produced hardcore porn with) tacked on an ending to the film wherein a film crew (supposedly the Slaughter crew, I guess) murders a young actress. With this new ending, the film was released as Snuff, and as you can probably imagine, the main selling point became the alleged “snuff” footage. Fake protestors were hired to picket (eventually overshadowed by REAL protestors Women Against Pornography), crowds lined up to see what all the fuss was about, and thus a legend was born.

Naturally, the “snuff” footage at the end of this movie is fake. In fact, it doesn't even look anywhere near real. Anyone duped by it is a moron. Maybe back in the day, pre-Savini/Winston/Baker, this might have looked more authentic, but I doubt it.

Anyway, that's all there is to it. A crappy movie made marketable by bullshit. Wasn't the first time, and won't be the last (in fact, Hollywood is pretty much doing this now on a weekly basis, in order to hype up all the crap they're manufacturing. “Look, this movie's got Paris Hilton in it! You GOT to see it!” “Wow, an awesome soundtrack, featuring Nickelback! See it twice!” Sure, they're not claiming to show real murder footage, but what's the difference? It's still hucksterism; blatant “polishing of the proverbial turd.”)

Blue Underground has done a credible job with their Snuff disc, in that they have made a colossally useless movie into a collector's item with super-cool packaging. The disc-case looks like a wrapped-up paper bag, with the just the title Snuff slapped across it. No pictures, no other writing. Pop in the disc, and the movie starts right up, without preamble. No credits at the beginning or the end. And when the movie ends, it just starts right over. No extras. As if you were actually getting this grimy little item from some guy on a corner in Times Square, who pulls it surreptitiously from his trench coat and blows Marlboro smoke in your face and neon porn signs flash over his head.

So I give Blue Underground props for trying to bring some sleazy verisimilitude to the experience. Cool as it is, though, it is a mixed blessing; it is simultaneously the disc's sole redeeming quality, as well as it's fatal flaw.

See, since the legend surrounding this movie is infinitely more interesting than the movie itself, what this disc really needs is a documentary, or even an audio commentary, about the legend, about the people involved; the lawsuits, the controversy, the aftermath. The movie could've simply been a supplement to the special features, something to refer to later on, if curious.

I'm sure most of the cast or crew (however many of them are actually still kicking around) have no interest in revisiting this flick, so why not interview the freaks from Sleazoid Express? Or any number of other film and cultural historians? Hell, let Mike and the 'Bots take a crack at it. I don't care. Something.

Anyway, that's about all I can say. Well packaged, but lacking in anything to really recommend it. Yet, at the same time, I feel a strange compulsion to keep the damn thing. Probably for the same reason I keep an unopened VHS copy of The Rescuers, that I bought before Disney recalled, with the nude inserts still intact. I'll never watch it, but I just … you know … have to keep it.

For a better example of Findlay “work,” check Shriek Of The Mutilated. However, if you do, look for it on VHS, cuz the DVD version removed HOT BUTTER's “Popcorn” song from the soundtrack due to rights issues, or something.

Strip away the punk-rock milieu and what you got here is a 1950's juvenile-delinquent / science-run-amok picture. And it's just as much fun those rowdy, rebellious movies of yesterday.

Acne tells the story of a brother and sister, named Franny and Zoe (love the Salinger allusion there!) who wake up one morning to go on a field trip for school. After drinking contaminated water, Zoe grows a huge, pus-y zit on his head. He soon infects his sister with the same affliction; once they leave the house, many more infections ensue.

As one might expect from a movie of this nature, the “zithead” teens do NOT go on a destructive, brain-eating rampage. Rather, they seek out sugary foods and butter to rub on their exposed brains. They crave the very sustenance that will only exacerbate their condition.

Is the army behind this? Is the shifty General Minneburg in cahoots with the less-than-savory “Mershey” chocolate-bar company, masterminding a nefarious scheme to control the youth population? Will the zitheads wander the town, zombielike, for the rest of their young lives, in search of “fuel,” or will they discover a cure?

Acne is a treat, from start to finish, bringing to mind (and lampooning) drive-in exploitation AND “scare-films” of the 50's. The government is corrupt, the grown-ups know nothing of how to handle the crisis, and the poor teens are left to fend for themselves in a world they are only beginning to understand. Roger Corman would be proud.

By making the teens in this flick non-violent, Director Rusty Nails satirizes the adult world's response to the psychological and biological growth of teenagers from all recent eras or our modern age. Most teenagers (and those of us that still remember it lividly) know that not much has changed since the 50's in terms of parents and authority “just not understanding.” Those adults who do mean well can't always assuage the murky passage through the teen years; likewise, those adults who's idea of “helping” is the use of extreme “tough love” and discipline, more often than not wind up doing more harm than good.

Acne ultimately draws the only conclusion any young person ever comes to: even if someone does eventually help them through this “trying period,” they're still left without many answers, and really, it's still up to them make sense of it all, and troop on into adulthood their own way.

But don't let the metaphor and satire get to you. Acne has plenty of fun, gore and rock-n-roll along the way. Like those aforementioned exploitation films of yore, the message is there, but it doesn't mean you can't have a hell of a lot irreverent fun while you're hearing it.

The low-budget Nails and Co. are working with here wonderfully augments the anarchic feel of the flick. It honestly looks like an old movie, and is all the richer for it. The makeup FX are plenty juicy (I mean, you can't have a movie about giant zits on your head without a few tasty “popping” scenes, can you?) but never go over the top. For the sake of ballast, I should mention that the DIY FX are not always convincing, namely the bald-caps the actors wear (the seams do show a bit), but you know what? I don't care, and you won't either. The “peeks-behind-curtain,” so to speak, add to the surreal, grotesque nature of the action. So that's a below-minor quibble. (Hell, I remember a few unfortunate kids in high school who looked as if they might be wearing cheap Leatherface masks. Man, I'm lucky I had a good skin as a teenager. I was already enough of a geek!)

Acne is very beautiful and competently shot (in black-and-white), and edited, for a flick of this degree, which Nails and Co. deserve major props for. A lot of low-budget movies don't look half as good as Acne does. And don't get me started on some of the half-assed editing I've seen. (Plus, I'm an editor myself, so I appreciate it when people actually create composition and sequence, without just pointing a camera and letting things go on and on and on.)

I think there's an extremely bright future ahead for Rusty Nails. The man knows how to work within the parameters of a low-budget. And I'm nothing but fond of the films he seems to draw inspiration from. (Romero is another big influence, as some scenes in Acne brought Night of the Living Dead and The Crazies to mind, in a good way.) I can't wait to see more of his work. The DVD features some of short film and music video work. I particularly enjoyed the Santo spoof Santiago vs. Wigface and Blood Drinkers. There's also an informative director's commentary track; Nails knows his stuff and is a treat to listen to.

On a personal note, I knew I was gonna like this one right away, when DEVO's “Mongoloid” popped up on the soundtrack. Amen and awesome!

Which is probably what you will be saying (like I was) as the movie rolled to a close. Acne is one to check out. And keep your eye on that Nails fella. He's goin' somewhere!

A lot has been said or written about Sarah Silverman's first concert film based on her stage show titled "Jesus Is Magic" and although I saw it on opening night, it's taken me this long to get a review up.

I've always had a little crush on Sarah SIlverman. That in itself is pretty rare because you can count the number of celebrities I've been attracted over my lifetime to on one hand (but it's always best to work it out on paper first before you commit to using your fingers).

By the way, I know that by this time many of you have thought of several charming "with one hand" and "fingers" jokes to make yourselves chuckle so I'll give you a few moments to resolve that.



Ok now? All done? Good.

So if you aren't already familiar with Sarah Silverman's work, she has worked on Saturday Night Live, Mr. Show, The Aristocrats, and recently she was starring in a show called Pilot Season which was pretty good, despite low ratings. Anyway, it's her standup which I think shines above anything she's ever done so far. And that is just what this film is about. This is a concert film not too unlike any HBO comedy special in terms of format. CONTENT;...that's a whole other matter. We're talking Richard Pryor/David Cross/George Carlin/Margaret Cho territory here.

Sarah Silverman is cute and charming...and she also has a dirty dirty potty mouth. The film starts with her hanging out with a couple friends (played by her sister Laura Silverman and comedian Brian Posehn). They both tell her about the many projects they are working on and she struggles through describing a huge live performance that she thought of on the spot. This leads to the first song of the film where she resolves to actually put a show together and in a moment of personal tribulation decides that she should be the star of the show as well. This is just framing for the show to take place which was filmed live in Los Angeles. In the show you'll hear her talk about such family time subjects such as when she was being ejaculated on by her boyfriend only to realize that she was becoming just like her mother or about the debate as to whether Jews killed Jesus or the Romans..."I'm one of the few people who believe it was the blacks." One of my favorite lines from the show was "When god gives you AIDS, and god DOES give you AIDS,...you make LemonAIDS. She also throws in a few classics like 'I'll be the first person to say nazis were A-Holes, but you know they were probably cute when they were little.'

I can't write her delivery here. She comes off as a big cutie with dirty thoughts. Just when you think she's about to get serious (kinda like how Margaret Cho does in her films), she uses it to jab you even harder. It all has a point; the meaning of words and tolerance in a modern world. But a lot of the fun comes out of the fact that she doesn't let you linger on those thoughts for long before hitting you with something else just as crazy or even crazier.

There are some rough spots though. The musical numbers drag a couple times (mostly just though the choruses) and the transition from concert to skit can be a little choppy. This is the same director as TENACIOUS D's upcoming film PICK OF DESTINY so hopefully those kinks'll be worked out better in their film.

Sarah's a shocking and funny performer and I highly recommend seeing this film. If you haven't seen her live shows, then you are in for a treat (or headed for the exits depending on how sensitive you are). See this with your grandparents and in-laws the first chance you get.

Oh, and by the way, the make-out scene at the end is one of the best shot love scenes is all of screen history. JESUS IS MAGIC is in theaters now. Check your local listings for showtimes.

Sinners and Saints is an over-the-top, blasphemous sex and blood fest from indie directors Melantha Blackthorne and Jason Cavalier, and it just might be one of goofiest and flat-out entertaining underground, DIY movies I've seen all year.

Never once taking itself seriously, Sinners tells the story of Father Carmichael Drake Jason Cavalier), a sword-wielding, kung-fu priest, and his sexy, balls-kicking sidekick Sister Jordan Merrick (Liz Faure). Together they are summoned by Necrotia, the Queen of Hell (Melantha Blackthorne), with a rebellion forming in Hades. While on their way to this rendezvous with the underworld, they must battle satanic cops who are kidnapping young girls and sacrificing them (and, occasionally, raping them in cemeteries.)

Sinners doesn't try to be anything more than what it is, and is balls-out fun because of it. While at times Blackthorne and Cavalier get carried away with the hellish sex scenes and WAY-outrageous action sequences, they manage to keep the story simple and on track throughout.

Don't be surprised if along the way you set concerns about the story aside, and just revel in the rampant deviancy on screen, however. No offensive, gory, or just plain obnoxious stone is left unturned as the mayhem unfolds.

Cavalier's action set-pieces are quite awesome to behold, as people flip and fly through the air Jet Li style. For a shot-on-video production, I was pretty damn impressed. Limbs are hacked, a nun's tits come flying out of her habit (and she keeps fighting, while one of the demonic police officers starts to jerk off), and in one completely ridiculous (and I mean that in a good way) moment, a man's entire penis is kicked up through his body and out his mouth. The special FX here are a bit hokey, but it works anyway.

And this is just the beginning of the movie. There's more to follow, and the insanity never lets up. As if the filmmakers just said “We don't care about a low budget, or that we're shooting on video ... lets just make this as wild as possible.” And believe me, they do. All the while, some great, throaty death-metal grinds in the background.

And there are visual jokes galore. The priest eats Christos cereal. Sister Jordan lives at Lady of the Righteous Fist Battle Convent. A "JESUS DIGS ME" sticker is seen on Father Carmichael's bumper (by the way, I want one!) There's even a GPS, Vatican satellite bearing the moniker Vat-Sat: Ezekial 2.16. (I laughed out loud at that one.)

The only drawback to the movie is that there is sometimes a little too much editing, and, occasionally, an over-reliance on digital, post-production gimmickry. Said gimmicks, while interesting to look at, seemed a bit unnecessary to me. But that's a minor quibble. These things didn't subtract from my enjoyment of the flick at all.

Sinners reminded me of the good, tasteless movies Troma used to make. It is, in fact a lot more entertaining than some of the unwatchable dreck Troma has been putting out as of late (Toxic Avenger 4, anyone?) Cavalier and Blackthorne are quite talented and know what makes a good exploitation flick work.

With wonderfully choreographed fight scenes, lots of boobs, guns and spurting blood (and the occasional severed-dead rape) Sinners and Saints is one to check out. A lot of these homemade, DIY, shot-on-video movies are hard to get through, but this one is a hell of a lot of devilish fun from the get-go. Great late-night, six-pack viewing.

A definite must for fans of The Toxic Avenger, Street Trash, Rabid Grannies, Class of Nuke 'Em High or Bad Taste.