Nice Cats (1995)

Lately I've been delving into the fascinating and awful world of Mockbuster animation. Extremely low budget rip-offs of Disney, Pixar and Dreamworks films. When it comes to trash cinema, something about this stuff seems sleazier than exploitation. Taking advantage of the ignorance of kids and the ambivalence of parents. The first example I decided to explore is this extremely crude mock-up of The Aristocats awkwardly titled "Nice Cats" ('Artige Katzen' in German).

Mrs. Mcdonald is taking her three cats on vacation to Acapulco. Lauren, the mother cat and her two kittens Lucy and Lionel. It's worth noting that it's they live in San Francisco, I did the math and it's 2,400 miles. That's quite the road trip. By the end of a generic incidental casio jingle, they're in Acapulco and immediately Lucy is getting the itch to wander. Mrs. Mcdonald warns all the cats that there's talk of a cat catcher on the prowl so to stay near the estate. Lucy runs off anyway and gets herself catnapped.

"Bunny Fashion"

"I Love Cats"

In cat jail she meets a stray named Charlie, they work together to plan an escape. Lucy plays dead to distract the cat catcher long enough to bite his bunghole.

By the time they get back to the estate Mrs. Mcdonald has taken the two cats and gone back to San Francisco, an ass move if I ever saw one. So now they have to travel all 2,400 miles on foot, Encountering different animals and humans along the way who help.

The plot is inconsequential. From the onset of the first frame you know that you're in for something truly horrific. One of the strangest companies to piggy back the success of Disney, the German based "Dingo Pictures" is responsible for other atrocities such as 'The Dalmations'  (101 Dalmations), 'Toys' (Toy Story), 'Countryside Bears' (Winnie the Pooh), and the one I'm the most excited to see 'Dinosaur Adventure' (The Land Before Time). Run by a husband and wife team, Ludwig Ickert and Simone Greiss, and I suspect not a single other employee. The backgrounds look like they were hand drawn by elementary schoolers and the characters themselves appear to have been TRACED from the source material. All three cats from "Nice Cats" have the same outline as Duchess from The Aristocats. The animation style reminds me of something between outdated 70's x-rated cartoons and that creepypasta 'Suicide Mouse'. From the limited images I've seen, it appears that all of their films have the same unfinished dullness. If the animation and copyright infringement wasn't enough, the dialog is amateurishly storybook style; with a woman narrating for every character. She has no accent but the grammar and sentax tells me that this was poorly translated from another language. With sentences like "Breathing was difficult for many people because the air was stuffy" - in regards to living in the city, or when the catcher caught a cat saying "That was a successful cat!". My favorite line however is when Lucy announces "I can't find my damn hairbrush!" - apparently Dingo is notorious for sprinkling curse words into their films.

A few other things I appreciated about 'Nice Cats'...

the entire movie is poorly hand drawn up until the end when they board an 8 bit boat. Suddenly we're in a video game.

The placement of the characters over the background went beyond not giving a shit. Charlie is floating in the middle of the frame like some experimental Jean-Christophe Averty shit.

Cameo by fake Thumper.

The saddest pizza I've ever seen. This isn't even Crayola, this is Roseart half way through the school year.

This racially confused Italian restaurant with a pizza being flipped like a pancake and a miniature china-man wearing a coolie and holding two sticks in front of a closed pot. This may be one of the most confusing moments in film history. I am literally stunned.


With my own "nice cat" Egbert recovering from oral surgery, this seemed like as good a time as any to participate in this bewilderment. Egbert has the luxury of pain killers why I painfully endured in sobriety. 'Nice Cats' and "Dingo Pictures" in general  is a personal journey you must decided if you want to take. God help you if you're as masochistic as me.

Don't Panic - 1988

Oy! Spoilers ahead...

I first discovered Don't Panic earlier this year when it was recommended to me by a trusted movie buddy. I had intended to review upon first viewing but as I recall I was quite overwhelmed as it met basically every point of favorability I seek in a campy 80's slasher movie. You would think by the bewilderment and pressure I was putting upon myself to do this review that I was writing a dissertation on Italian Neo-realism and it's effect on post-war Europe, but in reality I'm just hypnotized by the sight of grown men in dinosaur jammies...

On paper Don't Panic is your typical 80's horror fodder, leaning strongly towards Nightmare on Elm Street rip-off territory. That's not to say I mind, many of my favorite films borrow heavily from the success of previous films. Despite the excellency of a film such as Nightmare on Elm Street, to see the awkward charm of a loose and clumsy Mexican reworking is somehow much more rewarding. The story follows a tragically nerdy Steve Sanders look-a-like named Michael who has recently moved to Mexico City with his alcoholic mother from Beverly Hills (ironic?!). It's his 17th birthday and after his party a few friends decide to stick around and ambush him with a surprise seance via Ouija board. A recipe for disaster in any horror movie. This is when we're introduced to two pivotal characters. His turd-faced best friend Tony and his love interest Alexandra who, bless her heart, has the most obnoxious distracting unibrow I've ever seen.

There are some other friends present but they're basically just monster bait, so I didn't bother learning their names. After a reluctant game of Ouija where Tony, acting the part of an 80's movie best friend, being a jerk, making jokes, insulting ghosts, etc. He's dead meat. Mike's alckly mother breaks up the party and puts him to bed, dino-jammies and all.

After this Michael begins to have a series of dreams where he's seeing through the eyes of a ghost murderer. His friends begin to die off and poor Steve-Sanders-clone is destined to run around like a little bitchface child, whining and flailing about like the lame little booger eater he is. I don't mean to be so hard on Steve, er Michael. He just invokes a deep rooted mean-spirited side of me. If I knew him in real life I would have bullied him relentlessly. Partially because I'm an asshole, but mostly because he sucks. I love him for it, but he sucks big time.

One of the highlights of the film is when Turd-face Tony explains to Michael that if he really wants to show Alexandra how he feels he needs to bestow upon her a magical rose. In a bromantic scene of epic homo-eroticism, Tony gives Michael a rose from the vase in his room (why does this teenage boy have a vase of roses in his bedroom??) and explains that as long as the petals never wilt and die, neither will their love. He's like the witch at the beginning of Beauty and the Beast only way fartier. The love story angle in the movie is laughable, reaching after-school-special proportions of nauseating cheesiness. And again, with Alexandra's unibrow deserving it's own screen credit, she plays second banana in ever single scene.

The horror elements of the film are decent. Nothing to write home about, but passable and keep the story going amidst the hilarious teenage drama. That's the real star here (as well as the dinosaur PJ's). The melodrama between characters sets this apart from most Nightmare on Elm Street Rip-offs and your run of the mill slasher film. We later find out that the killer is Tony who was possessed by a demon named "Virgil" (endlessly awkward demon name) the night of Ouija board. Likely for being a huge irritating dork.

I really cannot speak highly enough about Don't Panic. It's relatively new to me but it already has found a place in my heart. It's amongst a very elite grouping of slashers that I consider to be perfect examples of their own kind of art. A balance of humor, horror and ineptitude that creates a symphony of trash cinema to the likes of which I am honored to experience again and again. This second viewing offered more insight into why I felt so overwhelmed the first time. When you really enjoy something on a basic fundamental level it's difficult to express without falling into endless ellipses. With genre movies it's easy to feel self conscious because obviously there are some people who just won't get why a film like Don't Panic is so special. Let me put it it this way; if Pizza was a movie, not a food, it would be Don't Panic. Simple as that. Childhood dreams and memories I didn't even have all wrapped up in a nicely little package. It certainly deserves a DVD (or heck, blu-ray, why not?) release, but in the meantime if you can track down a copy it official has the Scumbalina seal of approval!

I Was a Teenage Mummy - 1962

What is it about kids making movies that is so undeniably adorable?! I'm a sucker for these 8mm/16mm home made monster movies produced by children in the 60's and 70's. I had never heard of I Was a Teenage Mummy until a friend of mine asked me if I could track it down for him. I'm always up for a challenge so I examined my resources and managed to finagle a copy.

I Was a Teenage Mummy or I Was an Invisible-Teenage-Man? Who can tell??

An homage to classic monster movies, this charming little flick has a basic Universal's "The Mummy" plot with an added cute child version of Peter Lorre that truly made my heart melt. Obviously an amateur production but the details are spot on. Lots of little touches and accurate costume details that make it an impressive achievement for a group of youngsters, or adults for that matter. It doesn't take itself too seriously, The dialogue was dubbed much later and is spoken in a way that every line references a film title. Throwing "The Man Who Knew Too Much", "Sunday, Bloody Sunday", Spellbound", "High Anxiety" and "Lolita" around in sentences. It creates a fun diversion for movie lovers.

The introduction by Forrest J. Ackerman was a nice touch, especially since the movie's so short (about an hour). He gives us a little tour of his "Acker Museum" where he humbly shows off his world famous collection of priceless movie memorabilia. Looking as festive as a Horror Host, Forry, dressed in a black cape is as adorable as can be while he casually shows off the rings worn by Boris Karloff in the Mummy and Bela Lugosi in Dracula on each hand. I love him dearly; every time I see his darling face I feel cheated out of the Grandpa I deserved.

He speaks affectionately of I Was a Teenage Mummy, comparing his encounter with the film and director Ralph Bluemke to his first meeting with a young John Landis after the screening of Schlock. He talks about how the poor 15 year old in the mummy costume endured the same endless torment as Karloff did having undergone the extreme cosmetics in the Mummy. He mentions subtleties like how they achieved the aged look of the bandages by dying them with tea. It's this attention to detail that makes the viewing experience so endearing. A lot of heart went into the film and by the end, you're really wishing that the unavailable semi-sequel "I Was a Teenage Apeman" advertised after the credits had seen the light of day.

Some of the shots are really quite beautiful. Can't beat the raw talent of youth!

Cute kids dressed as monsters, lines such as "Oh, Camel Muffins!" and the Forrest J. Ackerman seal of approval. What else do you need really?

Da Hip Hop Witch - 2000

Well, I finally did it. I found my Achilles Heel of shit movies. After years of searching, I found the most derivative, obnoxious waste of time ever committed to video. NOPE, don't try to convince me that anything else could ever live up to this monstrosity. Da Hip Hop Witch managed to beat out Another Son of Sam, the former holder of the worst-film-I've-ever-seen title. It was so unbearable I actually had to have my husband help me put together some thoughts on this one. After staying up way too late drinking brandy and reviewing Gore-Met, Zombie Chef from Hell. I just didn't have it in me to make my brain process this as I would a normal review.

Some movies work like complex puzzles, full of twists and turns, false set ups, fake endings. Leading you in different directions, sometimes taking you back to the beginning and wrapping up the stories in intricate developments and intricate riddles. Then there are stories like Da Hip Hop Witch, that are the equivalent of   a rudimentary children's maze that you would find on the back of a cereal box. How this movie was made is mind boggling. Almost as much as how the filmmakers could have possibly coerced all of the famous rappers to appear in the film, which begs the question, How many rappers does it take to make piece of shit film? But I digress…

Da Hip Hop Witch works(?) itself as a rip-off of “Blair Witch Project”, which is obvious from the opening title cards claiming she is a “Black Witch from the projects” and the rappers she has been terrorizing  with her presence. Some of the claims made about her are:

•  She has long hairy fingernails
• Long dreads
• Green (or purple depending on who you ask) hair and big titties
• 20-inch feet
• 6-foot long fingers, which she loves to shove up Eminem’s ass.. etc.

A good 75% of this film is devoted to filming rappers redundantly reiterating their own accounts of what she looked like. Which ranged from “An ugly as bitch I wouldn't fuck” to “beautiful skank that I fucked.” Most of the dialogue seemed to be ad-libbed, shot in one take and probably a good portion in rappers dressing rooms between rap concerts. But of course, that only takes up a good hour of the film, they needed 20 minutes of story. What to do? Add two subplots that go NOFUCKINGWHERE!

  How these stories interweave is the equivalent of three blind drag races speeding barreling down a dead end street. And the ending’s reveal of the identity of Da Hip Hop Witch is as confusing as it is lukewarm with absolutely no relevance to the 30-plus accounts given in the film!

Da Hip Hop Witch is a train wreck of the worst kind. It is too far gone in bad taste to be watched for camp. But, if you do decide to trek through this fecal-flick here are some things I noticed:

• Eminem gets top billing; Vanilla Ice gets last.
• Vanilla Ice gets a tattoo during the movie, which we speculated was paid for by the crew, and that was his compensation for appearing in the film.
• In Eminem’s studio (which just looks like an office lunch room with “Shady Records” stickers on the door) there are several close up shots of Bud Light bottles which are all blurred, sometimes blurring out over half the screen.
• Da Hip Hop Witch ONLY attacks rap artists… with the exception of “pop star” Vitamin C and five white kids from the burbs, one of which is played by Mia Tyler, Stephen Tyler's other daughter..
• Royce Da 5’9” upon hearing Da Hip Hop Witch tried to shove her finger up Eminem’s ass, claims “Slim’s always having things shoved up his ass”

That’s all I have to report. It was a harrowing viewing experience. I've never felt such a combination of boredom and frustration. Glad I was able to finish this, so you don’t have to.

Abby - 1974

Exorcist rip-offs were plentiful throughout the 70's and 80's. None however were quite as bizarre as the blaxploitation spin, Abby. While on an Archaeological dig in Nigeria, Dr. Garret Williams (played by William Marshall) discovers a puzzle box covered with all kinds of boners and stuff. The box is depicting "Eshu", an African trickster and sex demon. When he opens the box a gust of wind explodes and the spirit of this deity travels across the world to inhabit his daughter in-law, Abby.

Abby, a mild mannered preacher's wife, begins to display some pretty wild behavior. Rowdy sexual appetite, speaking in different voices, general blaspheming, you know the drill. In proper Exorcist rip-off fashion, she gets a little out of control (mostly sexually) and William-Blacula-Marshall has to save the day. I love how Abby's face contorts into this awful primordial low ridged uni-brow creature, and it seems to change slightly between scenes.

Unlike the various other rip-offs, Abby caught a lot of heat for the uncanny similarities in plot which ended in a lawsuit against AIP, which is why the film will probably never have a proper release. The blaxploitation angle really adds a dimension of absurdity that gives the film a life of it's own. Don't judge me but I've never been a huge Exorcist fan. I appreciate what it is and what it did for the horror industry and I absolutely ADORE the sequel (it's a masterpiece, really. Shut your face). The original never particularly moved me. However, the dozens of imitations that it influenced have schlock appeal and Abby is the undefeated champion of ludicrous Exorcist rip-offs. From the amazing funk score to seeing the King of Cartoons in a dashiki performing an exorcism in a sleazy dive bar, Abby is untouchable.

It may not have reached the magnitude of the Exorcist but it certainly retains a place on the annals of cult movie history and is worth it's weight in sexually explicit demon possessed African artifacts.

Day 5 of Schlocktober and I'm still somehow on schedule! I plan to do some mini-reviews in the next few days so be sure to check back!