On Deadly Ground (1994)

There is a story about Steven Seagal which may or may not shock you.

One day an executive walked into Seagal’s trailer and found the star weeping. ‘Oh, I’m reading this script,’ Seagal explained, his head shaking in disbelief. ‘It’s the most incredible script I’ve ever read.’

‘That’s fantastic,’ the executive said, ‘Who wrote it?’

‘I did,’ the star replied.

It is this kind of self-gratifying smugness that permeates Seagal’s directorial debut

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Breeders (1986)

Breeders is like one of those old monster movies with a giant erection.

Another in a long line of exploitation flicks given the bluray treatment, it is the story of a giant fly who sets about raping a cast of airheaded delectables with the intention of expanding its species. Able to take the form of any human it comes into contact with, it seeks out virgin victims and impregnates them with a black, gooey substance, while using acid to burn them for reasons which are never quite explained.

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Pieces (1982)

B-movie slashers – once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all, right?

If you’re judging them in terms of originality, then yes, they are all very much the same – particularly those from the early part of the 1980s before censorship hysteria shackled the industry. In regards to technique, they are invariably cheap rip-offs of John Carpenter’s genre-defining Halloween, movies in which a masked killer stalks promiscuous teens through a series of heavily contrived set-pieces, while a perverted revelation draws ever nearer…

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Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers (1988)

I have to be honest; this is not what I was expecting at all.

On the surface it is everything you would imagine it to be. It is a movie about chainsaw wielding nutjobs masquerading as barfly hookers. It is grainy filters and sordid, neon-lit streets, a visual scattergun that would leave the likes of Tarantino creaming themselves as buckets of blood and viscera splash against sopping pairs of heaving bosoms. It is B-movie acting, porn star extras, and enough sleaze to leave you slick with delight…

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Intruder (1989)

Intruder is something of an anomaly.

Made at the tail-end of the 1980s, it was released long after the MPAA had stepped in to curtail the wanton bloodlust of the slasher boom, an imposition on civil liberties that would lead to years of the kind of tepid horror that would turn the genre stale. Just as Jason Voorhees was setting sail for Manhattan in perhaps the most censored of an ever-diluting formula, director Scott Spiegel let rip with his supermarket splatterfest of ingeniously depraved proportions…

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