Horror Squad, Horror Movies, News, Trailers, and More

Greetings fellow ravenous horror fans. We've reached that seminal point in the workweek; the greatest of all previously-overlooked days. It's once again time to sink our teeth into the Terror Tuesday Report. Every week I attend the screening of a classic, or classically awful, horror film at the revered Alamo Drafthouse here in Austin surrounded by a cadre of like-minded horror freaks. The master of ceremonies is Zack Carlson who, in much the same fashion as the late-night horror hosts that thrived in the glory days of local television, muses hilariously about the quality or lacking of the films. For my part, I will provide a review of the film showcased as well as gage the audience reaction to the film; an integral component of these magical evenings. Tonight's film is a blaxploitation horror flick entitled; JD's Revenge.

Well it's that time again. Time for me to go spelunking into the darker recesses of hard to find horror. Normally I hit up one of Austin's prestigious local videostores to track down a VHS gem that was never polished enough to shine on DVD. But today's entry is going to be a little different. Today I've gotten my hands on the horror equivalent of unobtanium. I have managed to secure a laserdisc copy of Michael Mann's fantasy/horror classic The Keep. You remember laser discs right? They were roughly the size of a large pizza and required a player that would put serious strain on the foundation of your home should you actually install one in your livingroom. They were essentially a precursor to DVD; laserdisc is to DVD as St. Louis Cardinals Mark Mcgwire is to Oakland A's Mark Mcgwire. Everyone remembers VHS because it was a format that caught on and was prevalent for many years, but laserdisc never found the same toehold and thus its collapse went largely unnoticed. But as an unofficial defender of lost formats, I have obtained a laserdisc player and actually bought this film sight unseen on ebay. Let's see if I escape The Keep with my mammoth player in tow.

Salutations horrorphiles! Well we've spent another Tuesday and that means it is once again time for the Terror Tuesday report. Terror Tuesday, for those new to this segment, is a celebration of crazy, cult horror hosted by the world famous Alamo Drafthouse in Austin, Texas. Every week, master of disaster Zack Carlson bludgeons our senses with some of the rarest, most inexplicable films imaginable...or unimaginable in many cases. The crowd is composed mostly of Drafthouse mainstays and horror film fanatics.

For my part, each week I will breakdown the film shown as well as gage the audience reaction to said film. So far we have narrowly escaped the Gates of Hell and had our eyeballs roundhouse kicked by Raw Force. This week we venture into the world of late 80's sci-fi/horror featuring a staple of the decade: Mr. Dolph Lundgren. Willi survive I Come in Peace? Or will Dolph finally break me?

Often overlooked in the maddening rush of the work week, Tuesday is rapidly toppling the more traditionally-anticipated days to stand as my favorite. This zeal is in no small part due to Austin's Alamo Drafthouse and its cult revival vehicle Terror Tuesday. Each week, this bastion of schlock and awe delivers some of the weirdest, rarest, most unbelievable horror films from all corners of the globe. Since I have the good fortune of living in Austin and regularly attend this weekly congregation of horror buffs, I thought it only appropriate that I cover both the film and the audience reaction for Horror Squad.

This week, we tear into Raw Force from 1982.

Hello and welcome to Terror Tapes! This is the Horror Squad weekly feature fully endorsed by Vestron Video and the Cannon Group...in my head at least. Each week I pillage the film archives that are Austin's local videostores and bring you dusty old relics of a lost era. Turns out the horror genre has one of the biggest back-log of titles that were tragically abandoned on the doorstep of the video orphanage. Well, actually if you've been following this feature you'll know that most of these films are better off sheltered from the cruel, discriminating world of DVD. Nevertheless, like Daddy Warbucks I will continue to adopt these titles, at least for a weekend, in an ongoing effort to find a few that can thaw my icy, Blu-ray-loving heart. I have an abundance of optimism about today's title: Blood Beach. Let's see if we hit it off and foster a bond through the magic of montage!

Every religion needs its place of worship, but most religions also subscribe to the idea of a holy land. The holy land is a place of immeasurable reverence where the God (or gods) of their people can be honored in a more communal, and more dedicated fashion. Jews go to synagogues, Christians to church, and Muslims to mosques ... and inconveniently all have their holy land in the same place. For horrorphiles like me, the holy land is Austin, TX and our temple is Terror Tuesday at the Alamo Drafthouse.

Every Tuesday night for the past several years, the Alamo Drafthouse has been witness to some of the greatest, the cheesiest, and the schlockiest horror films ever made. In this hallowed theater, these late night forays into madness find joyous purchase no matter what textbook definition of quality they may lack. The high priest of horror in this temple is one Zack Carlson who introduces each movie with the enthusiasm of a carnival barker and an unmatched encyclopedic knowledge. He warms up the crowd with wit and excitement to the point that the crowd can be quite frenzied by the time the reels start spinning. I feel entirely at home in this Mecca of genre love and I have decided to make it my charge to attend as many Terror Tuesdays this year as humanly possible.

Each week I will break down both the film featured and the subsequent audience reaction. For this, the first Terror Tuesday of the year, Zack has chosen Lucio Fulci's Gates of Hell

Welcome back to Terror Tapes. The weekly feature where I trudge through the celluloid sewer trying hard to stay at least moderately dry. So far I have stepped foolishly into piles of rancid video tape but I am confident there is something of incalculable value floating among the waste. The movies I watch for this column are typically the ones that never made the leap to DVD; for one glaringly obvious reason or another. An alarming commonality with horror films, both presently and in the heyday of my beloved format, is the in-name-only sequel.

Basically a movie is released in theaters that resonates with audiences, even the grindhouse or midnight movie set, and studios get greedy. Suddenly, or in this particular case 11 years later, a sequel is released that has little to nothing to do with the original in the hopes that enough of its fans will be duped into paying admission. I love Alligator (1980) so I was thrilled to come across a VHS of the follow-up Alligator II: The Mutation (1991) and even more thrilled to discover that finding it on DVD is as feasible as finding an actual alligator in a New York sewer.

Well it's 2010; officially the future according to most of the post-apocalyptic films I watch. In fact, we've outlasted scores of cinematic omens and, while gas is absurdly expense, we have not yet entered Road Warrior territory. In reverence of the dawning of a near year, and while I was six different kinds of trashed on New Year's Eve, I pondered the plethora of holiday themed horror out there. Ultimately, after drunk-dialing an old girlfriend and vomiting with enough ferocity as to terrify Regan MacNeil, I decided to spend a year charting the holidays as only our beloved horror genre could deliver them. Each month I will examine one film with an appropriate temporal tie-in and strive to cast a bloody shadow over any semblance of merriment. Though a bit late, the first film of this new feature will be the obscure, but fantastic,New Year's Evil.

New Year's Evil revolves around a rocking party, of the same name, celebrating the passing of another year. The hostess is an aged new wave radio DJ who, inexplicably, has a massive youth culture following. The party features live feeds from New Year's parties in three additional timezones so they can watch the ball drop four times. As the dancing and the shrieking rock fills the penthouse ballroom, Diane the DJ (yes, that is her uber rock-n-roll name) begins to take calls. A madman with a robotic voice breaks through and announces that he will kill one person upon the stroke of each midnight; saving Diane herself for last. Is it a prank, or the onset of a nightmare no one will be able to forget?

Good evening children of the night. Welcome back to Terror Tapes; the only Horror Squad weekly feature that the FCC warns may cause seizures. Every week I scout plots in the wastelands of forgotten formats hoping to strike a wealth of great films. While I have tapped a few fantastic relics, the majority of the fare' have seen would be most aptly categorized as sewage. But still, I greet each square, transparent box with unbridled anticipation. I live for the chase; the hunt. Will today's film, The Uncanny, represent another completely wasted afternoon, or have' finally found my ultimate strike?