Who is this motley crew, then?

Well, fear not. It isn't the return of the dreaded Clea. These gals just happen to be the latest trio of goons who will be screaming their heads off/tripping over branches/investigating spooky noises in 'Friday the 13th', a remake BC is wetting its pants over in wriggly anticipation. BC must admit that the wardrobe department must have had a field day picking out as many drab garments they could get thier mitts on at the Next sale - what a dull collection of rags! Perhaps this is rather a nifty move, ensuring that the garments will be spruced up with a healthery smattering, or rather, spattering of blood and offal entrails. Still, it does leave you pining for a bit of spunk and sass. One is reminded of past F13 style icons Violet (New Romantic, part 5) and JJ (Punk, part 8) or even mother Voorhees herself (Horlicks, part 1), dear old Pam!

Plenty of Gas in 'Blood Car'

The moment BC smacked its peepers on 'Blood Car' it was instant greasy fried luvvin'. There's nothing I like more than settling down with a bucket of fast food and a good ole American gore flick with a political conscience, and this mean baby did not disappoint. The story is set in a world not too far in the future where nobody drives because fuel is too expensive and scarce. Archie is a nerdy school teacher whose pre-schoolers do not appreciate his teachings on the Kyoto Treaty, so in his spare time he keeps himself inspired with an ambition to make a car that can drive on wheatgrass. Alas, one tragic accident later and his motor has developed a taste for blood, and runs on it! The end result pushes the envelope beyond even the most hardened of tastes, with a kindergarten shoot-out being a joy to watch. BC was reminded of John Carpenter's 'Christine', and that you really don't need a gazumped up budget of Tarantino-proportions to make a nifty gridhouse flick these days.

Special mention must go to Anna Chlumsky, the gawky little oik from 'My Girl', who glowers here with an appealing charisma.

The Death of Playgirl

BC has recently been mourning the passing on of one of America's, if indeed the world's, most respected ladies' adult magazines. It was also rather popular with men, apparently. BC also remains good friends with the editorial team there, and our hearts go out to them at this sad time. To find out more on how this travesty came about, read here for the, erm, skinny:

http://vice.typepad.com/vice_magazine/2008/11/london---deat

House of Usher released in US cinemas!

Poe fans and homo-horror addicts beware! Cult director David DeCoteau's second Poe adaptation 'House of Usher' (above) is released in a handful of cinemas across the pond today. Now, we all know that Decoteau's films are an acquired taste. Boys in peril hot-footing it about large empty houses in their underwear being chased by a knife-wielding maniac is not everybody's idea of the perfect night in. Of course, BC couldn't ask for anything more. This time round, a gorgeous Victor Reynolds (an obvious nod to the last word Poe screamed out on his death bed) arrives at Roderick Ushers house to find the place a shadow of the glorious manor it once was. Nutty Madeline creeps about in the shadows spouting off about how her womb has dried up and that the family tree is kaput. A hunky gardener with lock-jaw rakes leaves and looks suitably menacing throughout. Oh yeah, and there's three gay ghosts in workmen's garb who pop up every now and then to warn Victor that the house has an appetite for human flesh, or something. So far, so hokey, but with a smattering of nekkid pecs and some inspired dialogue, the end result is suitably goofy. The ending is also a hum-dinger.