Sleazoid Express

'Sleazoid Express' reproduces the experience of watching a movie in the grindhouse setting. Each chapter focuses on a unique exploitation genre (blood horror, celebrity crime, etc.) and paints a close, intimate portrait of its directors, stars and showcases.

Grindhouse filmmaker Andy Milligan has been the subject of a revealing biography, and boasts a grassroots fan base, but his remarkable work has thus far received no serious critical overview. Working virtually alone, on infinitesimal budgets, often using a used 16mm newsreel camera, Milligan crafted some of the most unique melodramas of the 1960s and 1970s. Often mounted as period pieces, using costumes sewn by the filmmaker, Milligan's gritty, bizarre films come across as inimitable meldings of the avant-garde theater of Jean Genet, the experimental films of Jack Smith, and the random cinema verite of a lunatic with a home movie camera. Yet Milligan's films are anything but random, ruminating at length on profound sociocultural themes of the day, including the emptiness of the sexual revolution. Evident throughout all the films are two pet themes: a rabid deconstruction of the heterosexual paradigm, and a grotesque illumination of the family as breeder of dysfunction.

A scene that influenced generations of writers, filmmakers and fans, XEROX FEROX is the first book to cover the horror film fanzine and the culture it spawned. From Famous Monsters of Filmland to Fangoria and everything in between, XEROX FEROX is much more than a book about monster magazines. It examines the home-grown DIY fanzines that dared to dig deeper than the slick and shiny newsstand mags ever would... or indeed even could. The titles are as lurid as the films that they covered. Gore Gazette. Deep Red. Sleazoid Express. Before message boards, before blogs, before the Internet itself, the fanzine reigned as the chief source of news and information for horror fans worldwide. Often printed on the cheap and sold for the price of postage, madcap and irreverent mags like Slimetime, Subhuman and Shock Xpress travelled the globe, creating a thriving network of fans and professionals alike. XEROX FEROX traces the rise of the horror film fanzine, from the Famous Monster-starved kids of the 1960s to the splatter-crazed gorehounds that followed. Featuring in-depth interviews with fifty writers, editors, and industry pros, XEROX FEROX is the final word on an era that changed the world of fandom forever.

New York City, 1976. Newspaper ads dare the denizens of Times Square to see a morbid little movie called The Incredible Torture Show. The film is yanked from theaters before it finds its audience. Years later it is retitled Blood Sucking Freaks and hits pay dirt, playing to shocked crowds and becoming a perverse cult classic. Its writer and director is Joel M. Reed. Like his films, the life of Joel M. Reed is a crazy cocktail of New York satire and sleaze, from swanky supper clubs in the 1950s through to the decrepit grindhouses of the 1970s. Using Reed and his films as its cornerstone, this book — twenty years in the making — is a dirty snapshot of the last gasp of Times Square before AIDS, crack cocaine, and anti-pornography laws strike their final blow. Strap yourself in for an unforgettable journey.

This volume explores the lower reaches of cinema and its paradoxical appeal. It looks at films from the B-movies of the 1930s to the mockbusters of today, and from the New York underground to the genre variations of Turkey's Yesilçam studios (and their YouTube afterlife). Critically examining the reasons for studying, denigrating, or celebrating the detritus of film history, it also considers the place of a trash aesthetic within and beyond 1960s American avant-garde and looks at the cult of trash in the fanzines of the 1980s. It draws on debates about cult, paracinema, and camp, arguing that trash cinema exists in relation to these but brings with it a particular history that includes the ordinary as well as the strange. Trash Cinema places these debates, and the strand of self-proclaimed low culture that emerged in the second half of the twentieth century, within a historical and international perspective. It focuses on American cinema history but addresses Eurotrash reception as well as the related field of garbology, examining trash cinema as a distinct but fluid category.

Taking its cue from the horror film fanzines of yesteryear... Horror and fantasy cinema from around the world with a distinctive retro sensibility, Creeping Flesh focuses on obscure and vilified horror movies, the discovery of "lost" films, BBC telefantasy, and an appreciation of American and British exploitation. Book jacket.

The pervasive image of New York's 42nd Street as a hub of sensational thrills, vice and excess, is from where “grindhouse cinema,” the focus of this volume, stemmed. It is, arguably, an image that has remained unchanged in the mind's eye of many exploitation film fans and academics alike. Whether in the pages of fanzines or scholarly works, it is often recounted how, should one have walked down this street between the 1960s and the 1980s, one would have undergone a kaleidoscopic encounter with an array of disparate “exploitation” films from all over the world that were being offered cheaply to urbanites by a swathe of vibrant movie theatres. The contributors to Grindhouse: Cultural Exchange on 42nd Street, and Beyond consider “grindhouse cinema” from a variety of cultural and methodological positions. Some seek to deconstruct the etymology of “grindhouse” itself, add flesh to the bones of its cadaverous history, or examine the term's contemporary relevance in the context of both media production and consumerism. Others offer new inroads into hitherto unexamined examples of exploitation film history, presenting snapshots of cultural moments that many of us thought we already knew.

"SOV horror can be as simplistic, challenging, or offensive as any audience perceives it to be. It can also be enlightening, terrifying, and revealing...These are films that compare to no others in existence, and for that reason alone it’s long past time to accord them some measure of serious consideration." Long considered the dead-end of genre cinema, Shot-On-Video (SOV) horror finally gets its due as a serious filmmaking practice. Using classic fanzines, promotional materials, and especially the theories of several important film scholars, Vincent Albarano brings SOV horror into critical focus for the first time in print. Prior to this moment, Video Violence, Twisted Issues, Alien Beasts, and more have never been mentioned in the same breath as André Bazin and Siegfried Kracauer, despite their common ground. AESTHETIC DEVIATIONS delves deep into the most famous SOV horror titles to give credit for their unique and singular contributions to independent genre cinema. Informed equally by a fan’s passion and the studied approaches of scholarly analysis, Albarano offers the first-ever detailed examination of the SOV horror cycle, proving that this strain of amateur filmmaking is deserving of proper appraisal. Sure to enlighten and provoke thought among fans and converts to the unique charms of SOV cinema, as well as inspire newcomers, Albarano’s book proves an invaluable resource for a neglected area of cinematic inquiry.