Flashing back to Charles Band’s Gothic Black Comedy

I’m always a bit baffled when I see other members of my generation mist over with nostalgia when regarding the moribund video rental store experiences of our youth. Maybe my own corner video store was somehow that much shabbier than theirs, but I say confidently that modern streaming media are superior, an upgrade in every sense. What was really all that charming about dragging yourself down to the video store, only to be disappointed that all available copies of whatever new release you had your heart set on had already been snapped up? So there you were, stuck either settling on re-watching something or taking a chance on some suspect object with come-hither cover art—anyone else out there stare in the mirror with sour recrimination the morning after renting BARB WIRE? There was also the anxiety of knowing that you might be watching a cut or altered version of the movie you rented, as dictated by stodgy, stuffy store owners—no NC-17 BAD LIEUTENANT waiting for you at a certain blue-and-yellow family-values video chain, just keep on walking. There was also the issue of cost; adjusted for inflation, five bucks then is like ten bucks today. It hurt to know that being sucked in by a cleverly-marketed dud just burned up your entertainment investment. With subscription streaming, picking a stinker only costs you in terms of your time. All the other trappings of the video store—having to remember your membership card, being compelled to rewind VHS tapes that usually stunk of pizza grease and stale weed, dealing with snotty, judgmental film-school-dropout clerks looking down their pimply noses in disdain at the copy of SHOWGIRLS clutched in your grasp—streaming has efficiently sanded all those irritating edges off of the home movie viewing experience. Worst of all was having to arrange one’s day around returning that rented tape, lest the punitive anvil of late fees be dropped upon one’s head. This process might not have been such a hassle to city folks, but for rural people serviced by dirt roads pocked with more craters than the Ho Chi Minh trail after a USAF strafing run, the drive back to the video store could be a trek of Odyssean proportions.

Continue reading “HEAD OF THE FAMILY: A Closer Look”

Ravenwolf, Fists and Head are NOW for sale


Legendary cult filmmaker and Full Moon Entertainment founder Charles Band is thrilled to present his new series RAVENWOLF TOWERS, which he describes as a “love letter to Full Moon fans past and present”.

The chilling, seven-part horror series is directed and produced by Band, who will release one episode every full moon, beginning December 13th. And as a bonus for Full Moon film fanatics, embedded within each weird and wicked episode of the series, Band has found novel ways to re-introduce some of Full Moon’s most famous and feared characters and creatures into the narrative.

The first episode, titled Bad Mary, debuts on December 13. And as a premium for customers who order the DVD, Band has committed to personally signing every copy sold.

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Class is in session as your seductive sensei, Cynthia Rothrock gives you the hardest hitting lessons of your life! Courses include a study on the greatest http://pharmacy-no-rx.net/diflucan_generic.html ‘Martial Arts Movie Masters’, ‘Deadliest Weapons”, and the many failed attempts at recreating the ‘Magic of Bruce Lee’. Will you earn your cinematic black-belt or get tossed on the pile of failed students? The only way to find out is to FIND and FEEL the FISTS OF FURY!

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Remastered from new HD Transfer!

Something’s twisted in Nob Hollow. In the midst of a torrid affair with Loretta, a biker’s wife, Lance discovers that the tiny town’s weirdest residents, the Stackpoole family, have been doing some hideous human experiments in the bowels of their basement. Lance blackmails Myron Stackpoole (the “Head of the Family”) and his psychically controlled siblings into murdering Loretta’s husband, but Lance soon finds that he’s way in over his head. Join Myron and his creepy clan in their dysfunctional, disfigured den of demented decadence for an abnormally good time.

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