Today would have been the 82nd birthday of the great German actor, Udo Kier.
Today’s scene that I love features Kier in the only version of Suspiria that matters, the original one directed by Dario Argento. In this scene, Kier discusses witchcraft with Jessica Harper.
4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!
110 years ago today, future director Jack Arnold was born in Connecticut. Arnold started his film career making documentaries and he ended it directing episode of The Brady Bunch and The Love Boat. In between all of that, he directed some of the best-remembered “creature” films of the 1950s. Anytime you see a movie featuring giant monsters, you’re seeing a film that owes a debt to the work of Jack Arnold. Arnold also directed the classic Creature of the Black Lagoon.
Today, in honor of Jack Arnold, TSL is proud to present….
4 Shots From 4 Jack Arnold Films
It Came From Outer Space (1953, dir by Jack Arnold, DP: Clifford Stine)
Creature From The Black Lagoon (1954, dir by Jack Arnold, DP: William E. Snyder)
Tarantula (1955, dir by Jack Arnold, DP: George Robinson)
The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957, dir by Jack Arnold, DP: Ellis W. Carter)
by Walter DeMaris
This cover is from 1933.
After a stint as lead guitarist for KISS, Vinnie Vincent went on to form Vinnie Vincent Invasion. Though the band was only together for four years before the members split up to pursue their own projects (two members of the band would go on to form Slaughter), Vinnie Vincent Invasion had a number of minor hits during its existence.
Love Kills was featured in Nightmare On Elm Street 4: The Dream Master and Freddy repaid them for the song by appearing in the music video. This video was directed by Nigel Dick, who I think has directed at least one video for every band that has ever existed.
Enjoy!
“Dead Skin Mask” is one of Slayer’s creepiest and most effective songs, and it’s easy to see why it has become a Halloween-season staple. It comes from the band’s 1990 studio album Seasons in the Abyss, and instead of going full blast from the first second, it slowly builds this cold, uneasy atmosphere before the riffs start hitting hard. It’s classic Slayer, but with a more haunting, horror-movie kind of menace.
The song is written from the viewpoint of Ed Gein, the infamous Wisconsin killer, grave robber, and necrophile whose crimes inspired characters in films like Psycho and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. Slayer doesn’t just name-drop him; the lyrics put you inside his twisted head, with Gein speaking to a victim as if he’s welcoming her into his home. That first-person approach is what makes the song so unsettling—it’s not just about a monster, it’s about being trapped in the same room as one.
On the studio version, the guitar solo after the second verse is a great example of why the Kerry King/Jeff Hanneman partnership worked so well. King kicks off the solo section with his fast, aggressive, almost chaotic lead playing, and Hanneman answers with his own darker, more melodic lines. They trade leads back and forth, and the whole thing feels like the musical equivalent of a horror scene spiraling out of control.
What really sells the song is the mood. The opening clean guitar part is eerie, Tom Araya’s vocals sound genuinely disturbed, and the final moments—where a childlike voice pleads with “Mr. Gein”—are absolutely chilling. It’s one of those metal songs that understands horror is often more effective when it’s slow and creepy rather than loud and constant.
That’s why “Dead Skin Mask” is perfect for October. Whether you’re putting together a Halloween playlist, watching slasher movies, or just want something appropriately grim for a dark autumn night, this track fits right in. It’s heavy, unsettling, historically inspired, and packed with that classic Slayer sense of dread—basically spooky-season metal at its finest.
Dead Skin Mask
[Intro]
How I’ve waited for you to come
I’ve been here all alone
Now that you’ve arrived
Please stay awhile
And I promise I won’t keep you long
I’ll keep you forever…forever…forever…
[Verse 1]
Graze the skin with my fingertips
The brush of dead cold flesh appease the means
Provoking images delicate features so smooth
A pleasant fragrance in the light of the moon
[Chorus]
Dance with the dead in my dreams
Listen to their hallowed screams
The dead have taken my soul
Temptation’s lost all control
[Verse 2]
Simple smiles elude psychotic eyes
Lose all mind control, rationale declines
Empty eyes enslave the creations
Of placid faces and lifeless pageants!
In the depths of a mind insane
Fantasy and reality are the same!
[Solo @2:19]
[Verse 3]
Graze the skin with my fingertips
The brush of dead warm flesh pacifies the means
Incised members ornaments on my being
Adulating the skin before me
[Verse 2]
Simple smiles elude psychotic eyes
Lose all mind control, rationale declines
Empty eyes enslave the creations
Of placid faces and lifeless pageants!
[Chorus]
Dance with the dead in my dreams
Listen to their hallowed screams
The dead have taken my soul
Temptation’s lost all control
Dance with the dead in my dreams
Listen to their hallowed screams
The dead have taken my soul
Temptation’s lost all control
[Outro (young woman’s voice)]
Hello?
Hello Mr. Gein?
Mr. Gein?
Let me outta here Mr. Gein
Mr. Gein?
I don’t wanna play anymore Mr. Gein
Mr. Gein this isn’t fun anymore I don’t wanna play anymore Mr. Gein
Mr. Gein?
I want out of here Mr. Gein!
Let me out now
Great Guitar Solos Series
2015’s One More Round tells the story of Jack “The Jackhammer” Taylor (played by Tommy Lee Thomas).
Once upon a time, Jack Taylor was a big-time boxer, a contender to be worldwide champ. But eventually, he burned out on boxing. On the night of the “big fight,” he failed to show up. Now, he works at a furniture store. He spends most of his time sleeping and having dreams of the life he once had. When he makes a big sale, his boss tries to steal Jack’s commission. That’s not a good thing because Jack really needs that commission. His wife is getting frustrated with Jack’s inability to get his life together. His scheming mother-in-law all sorts of lies about him. Jack’s in trouble!
Finally, Jack does the one thing that he swore he would never do again. He returns to boxing. He steps into the gym that is owned by his uncle (Kevin Sorbo) and asks for another chance. He trains with Franco Turelli (Franco Columbu). He prepares for the fight against the fearsome B.A. Fontana (T.C. Stallings), a fighter who is so aggressive that he even takes a swing at a referee at one point. Throughout it all, Jack prays and feels that God is leading him back into the ring.
Along with Kevin Sorbo, there are some familiar faces in One More Round. Jeremy London appears as Brock Thornhill (now there’s a villainous name!), a man who courts Jack’s wife during their separation. Donald James Parker of Gramps Goes To College fame appears as one of Jack’s co-workers. It’s actually interesting to see Parker here because this is one of the few Donald James Parker performances in which he’s not playing a character who comes across as being super-aggressive and bitter. Instead, he just comes across as being a nice old man who reads the Bible and offers up spiritual advice. Parker’s character here comes across as who Parker was trying to play in Gramps Goes To College before that film became about Gramps telling off all the pointy-headed, liberal intellectuals who make up the academic world. This film features the nice version of Gramps!
That said, the majority of this movie is taken up with boxing. I actually like most boxing films. There’s something thrilling about watching two men punch each other until one of them collapses. I mean, it’s the type of thing to which I should probably object on humanitarian grounds but I can’t help myself. Boxing is (usually) exciting. The best boxing films present the fight as being modern-day gladiatorial combat. Unfortunately, the boxing scenes in One More Round aren’t particularly impressive. The low-budget is obvious as the film cuts from scenes inside the ring to shots of people in the audience, all pretending to be watching a boxing match. Neither one of the actors playing the boxers is particularly believable as a professional fighter.
In the end, I always have my doubts about any film that suggests that God picks sides when it comes to sports. I’d like to think that God would be like me and just hope that both teams have fun.
Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Tuesdays, I will be reviewing Pacific Blue, a cop show that aired from 1996 to 2000 on the USA Network! It’s currently streaming everywhere, though I’m watching it on Tubi.
This week, we start the fifth and final season of Pacific Blue.
Episode 5.1 “Reckoning”
(Dir by Terence H. Winkless, originally aired on July 18th, 1999)
The fifth season begins with an episode that, even by the standards of Pacific Blue, is problematic and dumb. Where to begin?
This episode picks up from where the fourth season ended. John Patrone is dead. Bruce Best (Kevin McClatchy), the father of a teenage girl who killed herself after being raped by Patrone, has been arrested for the crime. Bobby has been arrested for tossing the rifle that Patrone used in the harbor. Because Bobby discussed his plans with Granger, Jamie, and Monica, they’ve all been suspended from the force pending the results of an Internal Affairs investigation.
When Assistant District Attorney Tucker (Michelle Clunie) meets with Bobby and TC, Bobby does the usual smug act that all of the members of the bike patrol do whenever they’re in trouble. Bobby starts making demands for a deal that will protect the other three rookies. Tucker proceeds to charge Bobby with being an accessory to first degree murder. Ha! Take that, Bobby.
TC files a formal complaint against Susan Jessop of Internal Affairs, accusing her of sexual harassment and bias. Jessop is taken off the case but Jessop’s boss, Captain Sharp (Gretchen German), turns out to be just as strange as Jessop. (If I had to guess, I’d say that Holly Gaginer had some sort of scheduling conflict that kept her from returning as Jessop and the writers just crossed out Jessop’s name in the script and substitued Sharp’s.) TC is suspended from his command. Cory is named the new temporary commander of Pacific Blue. Cory is also the union rep for the three rookies who are being investigated. How can she both be in management and the union at the same time?
Chris gets mad at TC for getting suspended. She wants to transfer to Homicide and now, being married to him could be a career liability. They have a big argument on the pier. Cory, who really should be too busy running the department to get involved in any of this, sits on her bicycle on watches.
When it’s time for Bruce and Bobby to be taken to the courthouse for their arraignment, a man fires a shot at Bruce. Bruce falls to the ground. Oh wait, that’s not Bruce. That’s TC disguised at Bruce! And luckily, he was wearing a bulletproof vest! Patrone’s lawyer, Steve Plana (Eddie Garcia), is arrested for setting up the assassination attempt.
In the courtroom, veteran television producer Steven J. Cannell shows up as the no-nonsense judge. Tucker starts to call witnesses. Things aren’t looking good for Bobby and Bruce. Suddenly, Father Crane (John Kirby) stands up in the back of the court and announces that Bobby and Bruce are innocent. Father Crane first explains that he was the one who threw the rifle into the harbor. He says he did it after Bobby came to him for advice. Father Crane then goes on to say that he was the one who shot Patrone because that was the only way to stop Patrone’s reign of terror. Bobby and Bruce have been covering for him!
Bobby and Bruce are released and exonerated. Father Crane is convicted. TC later visits Crane in jail and says that he knows Crane is lying about both killing Patrone and tossing the rifle in the harbor. TC mentions that Crane is going to be transferred to a state prison where Patrone “had a lot of friends.” What TC, who has been reinstated as commander of Pacific Blue, does not do is apparently tell anyone that Crane is obviously not guilty. For his part, Crane says that it will be a chance for him to minister to those who really need it. You know, Father Crane, you could have just applied to be a prison chaplain. You didn’t have to confess to a murder you didn’t commit.
Bobby takes the recovered rifle and gives it back to Bruce. Bobby admits that Crane lied about tossing the gun. Bruce admits that he killed Patrone. Bobby says that he still feels like Bruce did the right thing. Bruce thanks Bobby for looking out for him. Hey, guys, there’s an innocent man — A PRIEST! — going to prison for you idiots! Is that somehow not an issue?
Chris tells TC that she knows Father Crane lied about being the murderer. She also says that she doesn’t feel like TC deserves his command. He let Bobby get away with destruction of evidence. He’s letting Bruce get away with murder. Finally, someone’s speaking some sense! Not that it matters. The episode ends with the conversation. Knowing Pacific Blue, I doubt any of this will ever be brought up again.
This episode really annoyed me. Father Crane is going to prison but I guess we’re not supposed to care because at least Bobby is off the hook. Does anyone on Pacific Blue ever take responsibility for their mistakes? This is the fourth episode to feature Jamie complaining about Internal Affairs harassing her because she lied on her application to become a police officer. Gee, Jamie — MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE LIED IN THE FIRST PLACE! And now Bobby has basically decided that some murders are okay. Where does it end with these people?
At least this is the last season.
In 1999’s Limbo, Katherine (Jessica Krause) is a young woman who lives in a city, perhaps in an abandoned warehouse. At night, she goes to the bar, where the regulars eye her with a mix of suspicion and lust. Sometimes, she takes someone home with her. Every night, she appears back at the bar and almost the same dialogue is repeated by those who see her. She takes someone home. She kills them… or does she? The waitress (Tina Krause, who also directed) appears at Katherine’s home. Voices are heard. Sped-up images are randomly spliced through the film. The camera tracks down empty hallways and through desolate alleys. Sometimes, the images are so dark that you can’t even make out what’s happening onscreen. Voices are heard, but it’s not always easy to tell who is speaking or why. The imagery becomes increasingly bizarre. Are we seeing the inside of Katherine’s head, or are we seeing something else? The viewer will have to decide that for themselves…
Actually, for all of the bizarre imagery and strange dialogue, it’s not that hard to figure out what’s happening with Katherine. The film itself is called Limbo, and the film’s final twist isn’t really a surprise. But I also think it’s fairly obvious that this is a film that’s more about visuals and style than anything else. The story is less about what happens and more about how it’s all visualized. The film plays out in a frenetic, dream-like fashion, with the dream sometimes crossing the line and becoming a nightmare. The film’s visual style captures the feeling of being overwhelmed by sensation and giving yourself over to the chaos of everyday life. The film doesn’t always make sense because it takes place in a world that doesn’t particularly make sense. I’ve read a few online reviews that have compared this film’s imagery with the work of David Lynch. I wouldn’t go that far. Lynch may have been a surrealist, but regardless of how odd his films got, there was always a feeling that he was in control and that each image reflected something he wanted to say. Limbo, on the other hand, always feels like it’s one scene away from spinning away from both the cast and the director. Occasionally, that’s kind of exciting.
In many ways, Limbo represents everything I like about SOV filmmaking. It’s a passion project, one made free from the constraints of having to please the biggest possible audience. The stark images capture the grunginess of life on the outskirts of society, and the imperfect sound design fits in perfectly with the bizarre visuals. It’s a film that keeps you off-balance. When Jessica walks along city streets, more than a few passersby stop to stare straight at the camera. It gives the entire production a raw authenticity. Director Tina Krause was herself a veteran of many SOV horror films. For her directorial debut, she took the SOV format to its logical, self-indulgent extreme. The resulting film is occasionally compelling, occasionally annoying, sometimes shallow, and sometimes insightful. It’s a chaotic mess, but it’s also the type of statement that could never be made by a mainstream studio. It’s Limbo.
The 1986 direct-to-video epic Truth or Dare tells the story of Mike Strauber (John Brace). One day, Mike came home from work and discovered his wife (Mary Fanaro) having sex with his best friend, Jerry (Bruce Gold). Needless to say, Mike is not happy about this development. Mike wanders aimlessly around town, thinking about his past with Sharon and also remembering a childhood game of Truth or Dare. (In the flashbacks, young Mike is played by AJ McLean, who would grow up to be a Backstreet Boy.) Mike considers suicide but, instead, he picks up a hitchhiker and then spends a while mutilating himself at her request.
This pretty much sets up the pattern that dominates the rest of the film. Mike mutilates himself and gets sent to a mental hospital. Mike gets released from the mental hospital and immediately does something that gets him sent back. Mike has hallucinations that lead to him mutilating more and more of himself. He cuts off his face and is soon walking around with a copper mask. Mike gets released due to overcrowding and budget cuts. Mike gets sent back to the asylum. Mike goes on a rampage. Eyes are poked out of their sockets, people are run over by Mike’s car, and—in the film’s most infamous scene—Mike drives around while holding a bloody chainsaw right out the driver’s side window. Surprisingly, people are more than willing to stand still and wait for Mike to reach them. This is definitely a case where maybe they shouldn’t have been so polite.
This is one of those independent horror films that wins points on the basis of pure audacity. One gets the feeling that writer/director Tim Ritter was eager to see just how far he could push things and things do indeed get pushed very far. At the same time, the film is so amateurish in its execution that it’s impossible to really get offended by it. Despite some decent self-mutilation effects, you never get the feeling that the movie is trying to trick you into thinking that you’re watching anything that could be considered realistic. It’s an elaborate and, at times, rather juvenile joke. It’s about as pure a film as you can get, one that was made with absolutely no consideration given to what most would consider to be in good taste. Films like this could never be made by a studio but they could be made by someone who had access to a video camera. That was the whole appeal of indie horror filmmaking.
That said, I should note that Tim Ritter has said that he was actually replaced a day into filming by producer Yale Wilson. So, how much of the film’s vision is due to Ritter and how much of it is due to Wilson is anyone’s guess. Tim Ritter was seventeen when he wrote and sold the script and 18 when the film went into production. He’s still making films to this day. The unique aesthetic of Tim Ritter lives on!
Since we started the day with a documentary about Bigfoot, it seems appropriate to toss one in for the end of the day as well! This television show comes from 1976. Leonard Nimoy hosts In Search of Bigfoot!
Can you find him?
