THE EXORCISM OF MOLLY HARTLEY (2015) **

The Exorcism of Molly Hartley opens with a decent enough Exorcist copy.  Two priests try to perform an exorcism on a pregnant woman.  She convinces the dumb, young priest, Father Barrow (Devon Sawa) to untie her.  Rookie mistake.  She flies up off the bed, grabs the other priest, and goes flying out the window with him.  Barrow is blamed for the murders and is sent to a nuthouse soon after.

Meanwhile, hottie Molly Hartley (Sarah Lind from True Justice) is celebrating her birthday/promotion by going to the club, getting high on E., and having a three-way back at her pad.  Of course, when some cops find the couple slaughtered and soaking in Molly’s tub, it can only mean one thing… party’s over.  And that she’s possessed by the devil.  So… that’s two things I guess.

Anyway, she gets sent to the loony bin, which just so happens to be the same one Father Barrow is in.  Medical science fails to drive the devil out of Molly, so her doctor (Gina Holden) turns to Father Barrow for help.  Naturally, he’s looking for a shot at redemption and agrees to a rematch against Satan.  

Don’t ask me why they waited eight years to make a sequel to The Haunting of Molly Hartley.  Perhaps it was a clever move on director Steven R. (the I Spit on Your Grave remake) Monroe’s part.  Knowing that all that time has passed, it’s a safe bet that everyone’s forgotten what happened in the last one (I sure as shit did), which frees him up to do his own thing. 

At least he had the right idea by going hard-R and not that watered-down PG-13 crap like the original.  I mean any movie that has a possessed pregnant woman flying out of a window AND an Ecstasy-fueled three-way in the first fifteen certainly grabs your attention.  If you’re a fan of Exorcist rip-offs, The Exorcism of Molly Hartley has you covered.  We get all the bed levitating, split-pea soup puking, messages appearing on people’s skin, and priests flying out of windows you’d expect from one of these things.  (There’s even a death that blatantly steals from The Omen for good measure.)  

Had Monroe ended the movie with the exorcism, we would’ve had a nifty, if derivative chiller.  Unfortunately, it continues needlessly on for another twenty minutes with a useless devil worshipping subplot and an attempted human sacrifice.  Sometimes, you have to know when to quit when you’re ahead; even if you are directing a years-too-late DTV sequel of a flick everyone forgot about.

I did like the scene where Sawa went to visit his mentor for advice.  He tells him to go ahead and do an exorcism.  Sawa says, “I’m not a priest anymore!” 

To which his mentor replies, “You don’t have to be in the NBA to play basketball!”

Craving more horror reviews?  Well, I just wrote a new book chockful of them.  The Bloody Book of Horror contains over 150 reviews you won’t find anywhere else.  You can get your copy through Amazon here:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/1542566622/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1520113366&sr=8-1&keywords=mitch+lovell

THE NEW MAFIA BOSS (1974) *

When Alberto De Martino, the man who made the immortal turkey The Pumaman directs a Godfather rip-off, you know you’re in for it.  Joe (Emanuelle in America) D’Amato was the director of photography.  If only he had directed.  At least there would’ve been some of his trademark sleazy sex and violence to spice things up.  As it is, The New Mafia Boss is one of the dullest Mob movies on record.

Antonio Sabato stars as a low-level gangster who gets hired to perform a hit on the man who killed his father.  He pulls it off, but his boss tries to double-cross him.  Antonio figures out what he’s up to in time and is able to sidestep getting rubbed out.  He then goes to work for a rival boss (Telly Savalas) who quickly comes to think of him as a son.  The feeling doesn’t last for long.

The New Mafia Boss is as generic and forgettable as the title suggests.  It’s at its best when it sticks close to The Godfather.  The scenes where Sabato is instructed how to kill a man is just like the scene in The Godfather where Al Pacino is told how to rub out Sterling Hayden.  When it tries to do its own thing, its often a chore to sit through.  De Martino’s pacing is languid (all the plotting and double-crossing in the third act gets dull fast), the action is poorly staged (and sporadic), and the performances (with the lone exception of Savalas) seem to be on autopilot.  

AKA:  Crime Boss.  AKA:  The Mafia Terminator.  AKA:  The Sicilian Mafia.  AKA:  Mafia Boss. 

BLOOD MONEY (2017) **

Lucky McKee is one of my favorite modern horror directors.  Sure, he may make a misstep or two (like All Cheerleaders Die), but then again, so does anyone.  He teamed up with John Cusack for this flick and it’s an interesting pairing.  When Cusack is on his A game (which is becoming increasingly erratic nowadays), he can bring a weird vibe to just about any project he chooses.  That vibe alone is not enough to save Blood Money.

Three friends go out into the woods for some rafting and camping.  They happen to find eight million in cash hanging out in the wilderness and decide to take it for themselves.  Cusack is the thief who comes looking for the loot and is fully prepared to kill anyone who gets in his way. 

This is a routine thriller in just about every regard.  There is at least one interesting wrinkle revolving around one character who does a complete 180 and becomes a conniving, money-hungry charlatan.  That’s the sole memorable turn in an otherwise predictable plot.

Another problem is that it’s hard to muster any sympathy or enthusiasm for the characters.  The younger cast members are all fine, although they aren’t especially exemplary.  Cusack stands out because of the matter-of-fact way he portrays his character, but even then, he’s not exactly the kind of guy you love to hate.  

McKee’s horror background comes in handy during one scene in which a character who was presumed dead suddenly reappears.  Other than that, it’s a rather workmanlike directorial effort.  It’s not bad or anything, but the prolonged tunnel sequence in the third act is so darkly lit that it’s hard to tell what the hell is going on for most of it.  

Overall, there isn’t a whole lot wrong with Blood Money.  It’s just that it never quite grabs you the way a good thriller should.  It’s especially disappointing if you’re a fan of McKee.  As far as Cusack’s DTV efforts go, you can definitely do worse.

AKA:  Misfortune.

PORTRAIT IN TERROR (1965) * ½

Patrick Magee stars as a thief who gets a line on a valuable painting.  In order to steal it, he has to kill the rightful owner.  When Magee discovers it’s a forgery, he goes after the victim’s only living relative (William Campbell) to find the real McCoy.

While it’s good to see the stars of Dementia 13, William Campbell and Patrick Magee together again, Portrait in Terror is a slow-moving and dull thriller.  The only scene with any sizzle is the opening sequence.  A sexy nightclub dancer moseys up next to Magee and he pulls out a switchblade and cuts her top off.  He then gets into a brawl with some sailors over her affections.  This scene is the only unpredictable one in the film and it’s all downhill from that point on.

Magee is kind of miscast as the devious thief, but the film is at least tolerable whenever he’s front and center scheming.  It’s a shame that he pretty much disappears halfway through.  When he does, so does the fun.  (The long underwater sequences of scuba divers swimming around endlessly are sure to put you to sleep.)  The Spaghetti Western-style shots of him pulling his gun are rather stylish though.

Portrait in Terror would make a good double feature with Dementia 13.  In addition to the stars, it also contains a sequence where someone tries to dispose of a body that is very similar to that film.  If such a double feature existed, a smart person would probably leave after Dementia 13 and skip this dull mess.

Craving more horror reviews?  Well, I just wrote a new book chockful of them.  The Bloody Book of Horror contains over 150 reviews you won’t find anywhere else.  You can get your copy through Amazon here:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/1542566622/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1520113366&sr=8-1&keywords=mitch+lovell

IFO: IDENTIFIED FLYING OBJECT (1987) ½ *

A nerdy dork gets picked on by his sister, bullies, cops, and just about everyone in his small town.  He discovers a secret military hanger out in the desert and starts snooping around.  It seems the scientists there have created a remote-controlled artificially-intelligent helicopter that’s become self-aware, not to mention crazy.  While they sit around and figure out what to do with it, the kid sneaks in and brings the helicopter home.  He sends the robo-copter on a test flight and it goes out to get revenge on the scientists who wanted to terminate it.

In the right hands, this could’ve worked.  Think Christine meets Blue Thunder with a healthy dose of E.T. to go around.  (There’s even a scene where the kid puts the helicopter on his bike just like in E.T.)  Unfortunately, it was directed by Ulli Lommel

Now, Lommel did a fine job on The Boogeyman.  No argument there.  However, when it comes to a movie about a boy and his psycho robo-copter, he is totally out of his element.

Never mind that the script is often just too goofy for words.  We can accept a plot about a RC helicopter that talks.  What is unacceptable is the fact that it can control people’s minds and make them act like complete nincompoops.  (You have to wonder if the helicopter was controlling the filmmakers’ minds too.)

It also doesn’t help that our hero is such a dork.  I mean we’ve seen some real dopes in these movies before, but this guy takes the cake.  In some parts, he makes his entrance by literally falling face first into the scene.

The acting is atrocious too.  Get a load of the scene where the scientists are scared by the helicopter.  It’s pathetic.

Most of this is unbelievably dull.  Incredibly enough, Lommel finds new ways to make it even more boring.  The long scenes of the remote-controlled helicopter flying around are unbearable enough (although the actual aerial footage is pretty good), but by adding terrible synth music on the soundtrack (which sounds alternately like sideways rewrites of The Greatest American Hero theme song and “Into the Wild Blue Yonder”), it just makes you want to fall asleep.  The droning synth notes combined with the long takes of landscapes serenely passing by will make this the perfect cure for insomnia.

The scientists call the helicopter “Rem”.  It’s supposed to be short for “Rembrandt”.  They should’ve called the movie “Rem” because that’s the cycle of sleep you’ll be in by the time it’s over.

AKA:  Defense Play.  AKA:  REM 1 Experiment.

HATCHET 3 (2013) **

Hatchet 3 isn’t as blatant or over the top as the last two films in the series.  Adam Green didn't direct this time out, for whatever reason.  Maybe new director B.J. McDonnell didn't have the same more-is-more sensibilities as Green.  Maybe Green’s script was purposefully more straightforward.  As horror sequels go, there’s still plenty of gore to be found.  It’s just not nearly as much fun as its predecessors.

We pick up where we left off, with Marybeth (Danielle Harris) killing the unkillable Victor Crowley (Kane Hodder).  She gets blamed for his latest crime spree by the sheriff (Zach Galligan), who puts her in jail.  Meanwhile, Crowley regenerates and starts killing even more people.  A SWAT team is sent into the swamp and get picked off one by one by Crowley.  A journalist (Caroline Williams) visits Marybeth in jail and pleads with her to return to the swamp to end his curse once and for all.  

The cast seems like they filmed their scenes while on a break from signing autographs at a horror convention. Galligan fares best as the sheriff.  Williams is kind of grating and Harris isn’t given much to do outside of the opening and climactic scenes.  I did like seeing Derek Mears (as the head of the SWAT team) getting killed by Kane Hodder, which means you get to see Jason kill Jason. 

Little touches like this makes Hatchet 3 tolerable for horror fans.  I also liked that it poked fun at the other films in the series.  The kills are juicy, but they’re not quite as inventive as what came before.  It also takes forever to get into gear.  While it’s only 81 minutes, it feels like it's almost over before it even gets going.

AKA:  Butcher 3.

Craving more horror reviews?  Well, I just wrote a new book chockful of them.  The Bloody Book of Horror contains over 150 reviews you won’t find anywhere else.  You can get your copy through Amazon here:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/1542566622/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1520113366&sr=8-1&keywords=mitch+lovell

SEX, MARRIAGE, AND INFIDELITY (2014) ½ *

Emily (Brooke Pascoe) catches her husband Charles (writer/director Richard Finger) cheating on her with his secretary (Alana Jordan).    To get back at Charles, she starts her own affair with a coworker (Charlie O’Connell, Jerry’s brother).  

This might’ve been worth a damn if anyone got naked, but they don’t.  You can only stand watching people TALK about sex without doing it for so long.  It’s all tease, no please.

The amateurish actors just aren’t strong enough to pull off all of Finger’s psychobabble dialogue.  When they speak, it never feels like real people having a conversation.  The stilted performances make the dialogue even more cringe-inducing.  The longwinded narration is so wordy and chockful of needless over-psychoanalyzing that it’s almost good for a laugh, if it wasn’t so dull that is.  

Speaking of which, the comedy is the weakest aspect.  It’s one thing to have the characters endlessly talking about their sex life through boring monologues.  When they try for laughs, the punchlines land with a thud.  The running joke where characters keep saying, “Everyone has herpes” is especially unfunny. The fantasy sequence where Pascoe imagines herself turning into the Wicked Witch of the West and poisoning her hubby is the only true random WTF moment that’s memorable.

It seems like Finger was going through some sort of mid-life crisis and put all of his sexual neurosis into a script.  In his defense, making a movie was probably cheaper than the inevitable therapy bills.  I just wish he had some actual talent.

Things get particularly boring once the movie becomes a how-to manual of how to lawyer up after your secretary files sexual harassment charges against you.  While we’re on the subject of the secretary, I can’t understand why all the characters talk about her boobs, but they never show them.  What a rip-off!

The biggest name in the cast is Shannon Tweed, who plays one of Pascoe’s girlfriends.  She’s sadly only in one scene and easily outshines the rest of the cast.  Her daughter, Sophie also has a small role.  Neither of them is given enough to do to save this boring, unfunny, and forgettable mess.