Video Shop Tales of Terror Review!
Anthology films can be a right tricky business. The UK is known for the Amicus era and others through the ‘70s, so recent ones that have arrived on the scene can sometimes fail by being way too over-the-top, almost attention seeking by being too ridiculous, and somehow in the wrong order. C’mon, you need to grab the viewer using the first segment, otherwise most folks will switch off or tune out.
Luckily, Video Shop Tales of Terror, though not absolutely perfect, does bring you in with the overall fun, cheesiness, and crazy writing. We have Singh Lall to thank for this — the bloody maniac. Beginning with a gritty gravelly trailer called Witchfinder Actual in 3D, buxom leather clad woman with guns, followed by a porn slasher trailer called Don’t Sit on His Face. Proper roughie nudity – excellent — cheers Tony Mardon. Top marks already for not holding back on the sleaze appeal.
Anyway, the wraparound story arrives soon, but not before an intro by our hostess (played by Dani Thompson, who in fact plays a multitude of characters throughout this movie). This lady believes in her role, more than a posh-voiced goth that my Partner in Gore, Willow, and I witnessed in a previous recent anthology. She has the air of Elvira, and Willow said a bit of Yvette Fielding. Her voice sounds like she’s off an early Cradle of Filth album. Cool. Anyway, the wraparound is based within an Argento-lit video shop — in fact the exterior shots are of a cute little model sat on top of a hill. Inside is actually the perfect lil video store, I feel a bit shortchanged. I worked years ago in a couple of rental shops, and they weren’t like this!! A lady called Clara enters. She’s received a call off ‘the curator’, stating she can work off her fine, “I’m skint, mate.” All sinister like she has to sign a few things. Note the posters including Day of the Stranger (see review here).
There’s a couple wandering the isles. The girl is dressed like Trash out of Return of the Living Dead. They drop a few cases after a disagreement with the proprietor. One case is for a film called Egghead, our first segment. Dr. Benedict runs a plastic surgery that specializes in operating on anyone, even mutations — like a semi feline woman (Dani again). The surgery is visited by someone known to Benedict with past distaste, Dr. Eggbert (nicknamed Egghead) and he’s in a spot of bother. There are sexual allegations hounding him (nice touch that the receptionist is reading Darkside magazine), so he requires his face changing. Turns out Egghead has come to the wrong place…
It’s a super fun segment, brutal, with good makeup effects including death by a huge silver spoon. Yes, if that has been on your bucket list to see, ever, it’s within this anthology. The acting is top notch — Benedict has marvellous facial hair as well. It has a bit of a flat conclusion though, but y’know, it’s one of those things I suppose.
We’re back in the shop, Clara is working at the counter. In walks Laurence Harvey (Human Centipede 2, The Editor) as a prim and proper thespian actor who wants to claim a free hotdog because of his films (one of which includes a guy who finds out that toad semen will make your penis grow but turns out it mutates him). Yes, there’s a scene which involves jacking off a toad. Laurence reluctantly pays his way, and messily with gusto consumes his hotdog. Ketchup oozes onto a cover and we’re into the next chapter of this collection. This is a total switch in mood and style. It’s slower, almost film noir in tone, I think that’s the aim. The story of a man’s death and another man’s drug trip, among other things. I’m won’t reveal much else. It’s a surprise. Sam Mason Bell fulfils his usual duties of slow burning horror, plus a regular actress of his, Annabella Rich, has a great part to play.
Following this chilling section with a spoof Japanese hotdog advert — “No longer containing meat of dog!” shouldn’t work here but somehow it does because Video Shop Tales of Terror is driving you totally insane. As the movie progresses, other random customers enter the premises, such as Mr. Daniels (Tony Mardon) who is waiting for the arrival of actress Pauline Valentine (Dani once again) but decides to wank over the VHS cases. As the spunk globs down, into the next part we go. It’s 1894, a convent stands eerily in the night. It’s a rather nonsense segment, a patient who has come from the future, “One hundred years hence” muttering “tape” over and over. Nice set up name checking a few video nasties along the way, but nothing special.
Following this we have a show stopping brilliant comical trailer for The VHS Repairman. All ‘70s smut and double entendres, coupled with cheap ‘80s low grade soft porn. This captures the early Wild West UK video era to perfection. Sometimes there’s interplay of various segments featuring within one another which amused us. However, for me, the best was the glorious Evil Dead tribute, Mary Whitehouse is a Cunt. “You’d bring someone back from the dead just so you could call them a cunt?” Yes, the Necronomicon is used to bring Mary back, possessing the body of one of the main guy’s girlfriends, with gory results. This is hilarious and camp, goofy in all the right ways. It’s one for the video nasty era fans, those who lived through it, unlike poor Willow who was born in ’91 and had no idea why I was laughing so much — even after my brief explanation of who Mary Whitehouse was. If you’re unaware, google her name, or read Ban This Filth (see review here).
Miss Valentine arrives for her fans, then we go into one of her films, These Burnt Children. A wronged director loses all to a gangster producer, then meets a spiritualist and it transpires that his unborn films are angry — they want life! He is guided by them into his comeback movie. Vergessen has Laurence Harvey re-appear briefly as a Nazi general haunted by the dead in one of the more outstanding chapters. Created to look like an artistic rendered authentic Nasty Nazi flick, a cross between Tinto Brass and The Beast in Heat, with lush public domain classical pieces. There’s name checks to Ilsa and Dyanne Thorne amusingly, as women are placed into a house of pleasure which is hiding deeper reasons for its existence. Slow-mo, smoky atmosphere, however, don’t question why a WW2 German soldier has a huge modern tattoo on his arm.
Video Shop Tales of Terror has decapitations, stabbings, ripping, all this and more! The blood and guts are plentiful in this love letter to the era of nasties and video shops. An era that will never return but is fondly remembered by so many. Meanwhile, there’s a sequel on the way. Hopefully this’ll become a regular franchise of sorts. As I said, it’s not all good, there’s a few wobbles, but the shining lights more than make up for it. It’s a mixture of stronger and weaker, yet none corrode the picture to the point of no return.
Video Shop Tales of Terror delivers to the audience who are open to a bit of buffoonery, gore, and tapes.
Directed by: Alexander Churchyard, MJ Dixon, Sam Mason Bell, Tony Mardon, Max Davenport, Tom Lee Rutter, Michael Fausti, Andrew Elias, Geoff Harmer
Written by: Alexander Churchyard, Singh Lall, Chris Mills, Sam Mason Bell, Hannah Paterson, Tom Lee Rutter, Michael Fausti
Produced by: Tom Lee Rutter, Singh Lall, Anna Dixon, Alexander Churchyard, Sam Mason Bell, Louise Nosbod
Cinematography by: Alexander Churchyard, Sam Mason Bell, Kemal Yildirim, Andy Boothby
Music by: Craig Barry, Peter Lewington, Hannah Woolmer
Special Effects by: Tequila Carter, Alexander Gent, Karen Davenport, Tom Lee Rutter, Jodie Holman, Rachel Painter, Tracey Jane
Cast: Dani Thompson, Laurence Harvey, Annabella Rich, Martin W Payne, Tony Mardon, Singh Lall, Rami Hilmi, Cy Henty, Andrea Sandell, Eve Oliver, Peter Tilley, Faith Elizabeth, Charlie Bond, Mike Butler, Allan Bryce
Year: 2023
Country: UK
Language: English
Colour: Colour and Black & White
Runtime: 1h 56min
Studio: Carnie film production, Ciao Handy, Fausti Films, Mycho Entertainment Group, Tis Films, Trash Arts