A few years ago – 1999, to be exact – you couldn’t go anywhere without spotting a Squirtle or picking out a Pikachu. That’s when the Pokémon craze – one which literally caused mass seizures in its native Japan – was sweeping our nation’s shores with a merchandising wave of cards, toys, clothes, TV shows and movies.

But if you had stepped into the Del City, Okla. game shop Drake’s Place on the morning this past June 3, it was like 1999 all over again, as the site played host to the 2006 Pokémon Trading Card Game Gym Challenge World’s Qualifier, with approximately 70 participants vying for a coveted slot to play in the World Championships this August in Anaheim, Calif.

“This is a good example of fellowship and friendship,” said tournament runner and judge Roy Roberson as arriving players relieved their backpacks of phone-book-sized three-ring binders stuffed full of Pokémon cards. “People travel from miles and miles and other states to be here. It’s fun to go around and meet all kinds.”

Under a banner encouraging “Good to Go – All the Way to World’s!” and opposite a wall adorned with laminated photos of Drake’s Place “Friday Night PokéFights” victors, the assembled children, teens and adults divided into their respective age groups in preparation for the noon start time. They fill out deck registration sheets, so dense with abbreviations, symbols and phrases like “EX Delta Species” that to the outsider, it’s an experience not unlike trying to read a menu printed entirely in Tagalog.

The Gym Challenge – a marathon of elimination games Roberson expected would last eight hours – is just one step below the prestigious Ohio nationals and the aforementioned World Championship, a long road that begins with local leagues, city championships and state square-offs before regionals, held this year in Houston.

According to Mike Schell, a tournament organizer and event photographer who drove from Mississippi, somewhere between 600 and 700 players compete at Worlds, with the grand prize winner earning a $7,500 scholarship. Other prizes include a flat-screen TV, a gaming system and the Holy Grail for Pokémon players: a “#1 trainer card,” so rare that only three were made.

“The kid who won World’s last year sold his on eBay for close to $8,000,” said Schell.

But just beyond the surface lies an even more important benefit, one that the young players may not even recognize.

“Some of these kids have self-esteem so low, that something like this helps them to connect,” said Richard Collinsworth, premiere tournament organizer for Dallas, San Antonio and all of Oklahoma. “This is a positive environment that keeps them off the streets and out of trouble. I treat these kids like they were my own, and I love being around them.”

Schell agreed, “They establish a lot of lasting friendships, and this gives them the chance to get together. It’s a fun activity for all of us.”

Involving the whole family is not uncommon, said Collinsworth. “Mom or Dad will bring a child into a league, and 90 percent of the time, the parents end up playing, too.”

Schell’s 19-year-old son Chris was among one of that Saturday morning’s contestants.

“People just love the game and stick with it. They always come back, even if they quit,” he said, noting he’s been playing Pokémon for six years and won $4,000 competing last year. “I like traveling, being with people, playing with people and, of course, winning.” (Ominously, he did.)

Even though its days as a household name have long past, Pokémon stays alive because “it’s very challenging,” said Schell. “It’s similar to chess in that you have hundreds of pieces to choose from, and you never know exactly what’s going to happen.” –Rod Lott

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Photos courtesy Mike Schell.

BLADE: THE SERIES premieres tonight on Spike TV with the two-hour pilot. I’m a huge fan of the BLADE movies, so I’m really looking forward to this, even though every movie they’ve tried to make into a show in the past decade or so has been worthless. With David Goyer involved, though, I’m at least hopeful. No, it doesn’t star Wesley Snipes, but some rapper whose name I’m too lazy to look up, but I want to say is something like Sticky Fingaz.

Stephen King adaptations usually suck, too, and I think that goes double for the TV miniseries, which stretch a good two-hour idea into six or eight grueling hours of boredom. But next month’s premiere of NIGHTMARES & DREAMSCAPES on TNT could be a right move, since each one-hour episode adapts a single King short story. Besides, William H. Macy is involved, so it’s not standard Z-level cable stars or anything.

RENO 911! supposedly started its new season already on Comedy Central, but damned if TiVo is turning up anything but repeats for the next two weeks. This week also saw the much-anticipated second-season premiere of THE VENTURE BROTHERS, possibly the one truly great show Adult Swim has left. Its sharp humor didn’t disappoint. If you haven’t bought VENTURE’s first season on DVD yet, remedy that pronto. Go Team Venture!

At any rate, NBC’s original summer “webisodes” of THE OFFICE can’t kick off fast enough for me.

Times must be hard for Steven Seagal. Do his straight-to-video actioners not pay enough bills that he has to enter the energy drink business? Dubbed “Steven Seagal’s Lightning Bolt” (snicker), the drink comes in two flavors: Asian Experience and Cherry Charger.

As a public service, I tried them both for you, the reader. I had exactly one drink of each. I had to spit out exactly one drink of each, too. For you see, Steven Seagal’s Lightning Bolt – ”a natural energy drink packed with vitamins and exotic botanicals” – is not only the worst energy drink ever, but a cursed liquid in general that puts your body UNDER SIEGE. It smells what I would imagine his ass to smell like, with a pungent, repulsive taste to match. An hour later, I still get the aftertaste off my tongue no matter how much I scrape it. It’s an overall gruesomeness that’s HARD TO KILL and I feel like I’ve been MARKED FOR DEATH.

Avoid this like you have his movies of the last 10 years.

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Cromartie High School has a century-long history of destruction for century. Now it has become the worst high school in Tokyo. Desperate for students, it starts accepting anyone and becomes a perfect school for outcasts and freaks.

From the opening credit sequence that explains the history of the Cromartie High School, you will know whether CROMARTIE HIGH: THE MOVIE is for you or not. If that 10 minutes of narration cracks you up, you are in for a treat. If not, get out of the screening room, because you won’t find any Merchant/Ivory elements in the film. It’s directed by Yudai Yamaguchi, the guy who brought us the legendary BATTLEFIELD BASEBALL and shares the same elements – namely, the odd sense of humor that only can be seen in crazy Jap films like this.

The film is also based on a manga of the same title. It truly adapts the spirit and taste of it, offering layers of nonsense that are absolutely ridiculous. Did you think BATTLEFIELD BASEBALL had a thin plot? Don’t even approach CROMARTIE looking for a story whatsoever. It is simply a batch of ridiculous sketches revolving around the bizarre characters that attend Cromartie High School. But the film contains as much if not more energy than BATTLEFIELD.

How ridiculous is it? Well, most of the students are played by 30-year-old actors. The student body include a trashcan-looking robot, a gorilla, a gay-ass-looking white boy, and everyone that can do a little math (subtraction, to be exact). But these characters are richly fleshed out in each sketch and by the time they form a supernatural “Who You Gonna Call?” team, you can’t get your eyes off of them. They are sincere – unbelievably dumb but pure. There’s an alien invasion (apes, to be exact), kung fu fighting, highjacking action, LOST moments (J.J. needs to watch this and learn), an exorcism and so on. It is simply enchanting.

So what if doesn’t make any sense? That’s the true charm of it. The team behind this knew exactly what they were doing, and the result is extremely entertaining in every level if you just roll with it. Bizarre, to be sure, but it sure makes you laugh. –Shogo

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Arma Secreta (that’s Italian for “secreting arm,” you know) makes a powerful showing with A CENTURY’S REMAINS, even if it doesn’t quite take home the gold. From the opening “Segue/Debris,” the music is driving, relentless – a forceful but not in-your-face army of percussion-based rhythm. Then the vocals kick in. I’m not a fan of the kind of vocal style which lands somewhere between screaming and talking loud after gargling cough syrup; here, it just detracts from the music. Still, the lyrics are good, simultaneously dealing with love and loss, hope and anger. And how can you not like a song titled “Little Snow Ninja”? I also have to applaud the disc for its excellent cover – a truly artistic statement carried through the gorgeous inside package. –Rod Lott

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The two newest Filmation late-’70s/early-’80s cartoon classics to be headed for shiny-disc treatment this summer are complete-series sets of BLACKSTAR and SPACE SENTINELS. I don’t remember BLACKSTAR, but a guy on a flying dragon and holding a sword? What’s not to love?

SPACE SENTINELS is on my radar, however, mostly because it was an expanded version of my much-beloved FREEDOM FORCE, the heroic team comprised of Hercules, Isis, Merlin, Sinbad and Super Samurai. That “series” (all five episodes of it) is included on the SPACE SENTINELS set, which alone makes it worth a purchase.

Anyway, FREEDOM FORCE was really just a segment of CBS’ much-beloved (by me, at least) Saturday-morning anthology series TARZAN AND THE SUPER 7, which featured revolving adventures of Tarzan, Freedom Force, Batman and Robin, Web Woman, Micro Woman, Super Stretch and (in live-action format) Jason of Star Command. That’d be a DVD dream, but I guess rights issues with the Edgar Rice Burroughs estate and DC Comics would make that impossible.

At any rate, enjoy these advance covers and save your pennies for Aug. 22.

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I am going to admit something that may shock those of you who know me. It even may lessen me in some of your eyes. But here goes: Until last night, I had never seen the Italian zombie film CEMETERY MAN. For a hardcore zombie fan, I might as well have just admitted that I had never seen DAWN OF THE DEAD or THE BEYOND. Insert frowning emoticon here.

It’s not that I didn’t want to watch it – quite the contrary. It had always been on my rental list and I even owned a previously viewed VHS copy in the late ’90s (I had to throw it out due to the fact every time I started it, one minute in, it would completely screw up my VCR heads). But even through all that, I just never was able to watch it.

Until now.

Anchor Bay, who we just might as well call the “Jesus Christ of cult film reissuists” (I accept them as my personal digital video disc saviors), has once again gone into the breach and pulled out yet another winner – the transcendent (and aforementioned) CEMETERY MAN, one of the best DVDs to be released this year. Now that I have seen it, I can authoritatively say that if you’re a zombie-film fan and you don’t own this, you’re a poseur in need of a beating … a zombie beating!

Zombie films as we know them typically follow a basic formula: A group of stereotypes, usually oversexed teens, are trapped in some sort of edifice, possibly a shack in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night, and are besieged by the walking dead, usually with sub-Savini gore-filled results, but not much else. No real story or character development needed. Lately, it seems that the WB-friendly casts get more press than the actual film. And while yes, I am all for the Chad Michael Murrays of the world to have their brains eaten, at least give me some sort of new take on the damn thing! Give me a refreshing spin on the whole scenario. Is it too much to ask? As someone who watches at least two zombie films a week, it gets old very fast.

That’s why I nearly plotzed when, finally, Michele Soavi’s masterpiece arrived in the mail. I had been reading up on it in all the usual horror trades, psyching myself up for what has been called “one of the best horror films” ever made. I tore that package open and within two minutes, I was on the couch, absorbing every minute of it.

The ultra-dashing Rupert Everett is Francesco Dellamorte, a lovelorn, impotent cemetery watchman whose main job is to stop the “returners” as they rise out of their graves. A returner, as you may have surmised, is a zombie. It appears that, inexplicably, six or seven days after burial, random corpses claw their way out and walk around, looking for flesh to feast one, as zombie are wont to do. Along with his childlike, possibly mentally handicapped assistant Gnaghi (Francois Hadji-Lazaro), they lead an empty-yet-seemingly-content life on the outskirts of society. Matters get complicated when Francesco falls for a young widow (the ever-so-busty Anna Falchi), who, in a chance accident, also becomes a zombie – then things get even crazier. Gnaghi falls in love with a decapitated head, Francesco becomes a serial killer of sorts and, if that weren’t enough, in the end, the film veers into existentialist territory, asking questions that the typical zom-film never would.

Of course, the direction by Soavi is impeccable. He’s an Argento protégé and it shows. It’s gory when it has to be and, if this makes any sense, beautiful when it normally shouldn’t be. Erotic without being Joe d’Amato-esque, blood-soaked without being Fulci, CEMETERY MAN is the perfect example of how perfect Italian horror can be. It’s a true masterpiece and a testament to how, even in the most tired of genres, new life, so to speak, can be injected into it. –Louis Fowler

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Herbert’s SCALE isn’t the typical cut ‘n’ click affair electronic music fans have come to expect from the !K7 label. And not that there’s anything wrong with that, but this album is a little more special. The tracks are largely vocal-based, with soulful flourishes of horns and strings. On “We’re in Love,” it even swells to reach a grand, Bacharachian level of cinematic swooning. But the album grooves and shakes when it needs to, and do so admirably. All in all, this one hovers somewhere between a posh bar in Broadway and the sunny beaches of Ibiza. –Rod Lott

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Between moving in April and now, I’ve actually managed to watch a few DVDs. If only I had the time to write full reviews of them. But I don’t; hence this roundup of capsulized Rod-pinions. Take ‘em or leave ‘em!

HOSTEL – How in the hell did this film make $50 million here? It’s sick! And I bloody loved it. From CABIN FEVER wunderkind Eli Roth, this admittedly thin story of three utterly obnoxious Westerners backpacking in Europe starts out as a debaucherous drugs ‘n’ sex comedy and then does a magnificent 180˚ into outright splatterville. Roth’s touches of comic genius lift it from potential disposability to a deft, suspenseful tension-ratcheter. I’m not really sure it’s a horror film, but horrible things happen in it. And that means good times for you. This is a movie I’ve already started obsessing over. Don’t be a pussy – get the unrated edition for more “eye goo.”

FUN WITH DICK AND JANE – My allergy to Jim Carrey is well-noted. But this remake of the George Segal/Jane Fonda caper from 1976 (which I saw when I was a kid, remembering only the scene in which they talk while Fonda sits on the toilet and pees) isn’t half-bad. Téa Leoni at least washes the SPANGLISH musk from her wispy body and generates a few actual laughs. I don’t remember what they were, but a few is better than is none.

THE FAMILY STONE – I don’t care how many Emmys and Golden Globes she has: Sarah Jessica Parker is not a good actress. Luckily, she’s only part of a large ensemble here, in this Christmas-set family dramedy that’s tolerable for its first half, and then soul-sucking for the rest. It’s completely lazy story-wise, ignoring plot in favor of throwing in every Important Issue it can: a mom with cancer, a gay and deaf son, and he’s dating a black guy! This is one of those movies where the characters are just surrounded by wealth and you’re supposed to care about their self-absorbed problems. When I saw the trailer, I unknowingly figured out the movie’s end. It’s easy! You can, too: Just look for the two reaction shots that make you think, “No, they seriously wouldn’t end it like that,” and you’ve won. Rachel McAdams and Luke Wilson totally steal the show, but the show’s not worth stealing, folks.

FLIGHTPLAN – Jodie Foster’s latest Strong Mommy vehicle plays like a mix of her own PANIC ROOM and Kurt Russell’s awesome EXECUTIVE DECISION, as she searches for her daughter on a huge plane, even though the crew is telling her that her daughter is deceased and there’s no record of her on board. But for a thriller, this is awfully downbeat and sober. Could use some snakes.

INTO THE BLUE – The director of this underwater treasure hunt is in love with Jessica Alba’s ass. And while that’s totally understandable, you can’t build a movie around that. At least not with Paul Walker standing nearby to spoil the vibe. Some beautiful underwater photography in this one (half of it with Alba’s wet derrier, unapologetically shot from taint level), but I was so bored I had to call it quits after the first hour. Movies with the word “bro” dropped endlessly tend to do that to me.

THE SQUID AND THE WHALE – Stupid title, smart movie. Noah Bambauch’s droll divorce comedy takes place in the ’80s, when stuck-up literary has-been Jeff Daniels and newly successful writer Laura Linney break up, and it fucks up their two boys. You’d think it be unpleasant, but it’s actually pretty funny. I liked when the older kid, trying to impress a girl, refers to the Franz Kafka classic “Metamorphosis” as being “Kafka-esque.” But I liked more when he was going to take the girl on a date to see SHORT CIRCUIT, but Daniels tags along and convinces them to see BLUE VELVET instead (”Daddy wants to fuck!”). Awkward! Totally deserving of its Best Original Screenplay nomination earlier this year.

THE PINK PANTHER – Remember when a Steve Martin movie was something to look forward to? Like between 1985 and 1989? It’s sad to see him chasing paychecks in one endless stupid family vehicle after another. But it’s even more painful when he’s partly responsible for the screenplay, as he is here in this “prequel” to the classic Blake Edwards series featuring Peter Sellers as the bumbling Inspector Closeau. Man, do they ever waste a cast in this one: Martin aside, the fabulously timing-free director Shawn Levy manages to squander Kevin Kline, Jean Reno, Kristin Chenoweth and Henry Czerny. (I can’t count Beyoncé in that esteemed group.) It’s not the outright disaster you’d think, but a majority of the jokes just fall flat. Apparently, the original PG-13 version had more of an edge. There is one great 90-second scene in it that I nominate for placement in the Martin Hall of Fame, when an English coach is trying to teach him how to say “I would like to buy a hamburger” in American dialect. Come back, Steve. At least it has animated credits.

HOODWINKED – Better than your average CGI kiddie flick, but not by much. The premise is great: the tale of Little Red Riding Hood told RASHOMON-style from all its participants. Some good gags, but the songs suck, and I grew tired of it all by its midpoint.

CAPOTE – Philip Seymour Hoffman earned that Best Actor Oscar. His portrayal of gay, troubled, alcoholic reporter Truman Capote is one of the five best performances, leading or supporting, of this decade (not that I’ve made a list). The movie is good, too, even if its loses some narrative steam toward the end. Much like this roundup. –Rod Lott

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AFTERMATH is one of the most unpleasant, disturbing and grotesque films of the last 20 or 30 years. It’s the one film that doesn’t ask for repeated viewings, assuming one can make it all the way to the end the first time.

The film takes place in the world of an autopsy room, which is simply and automatically uncomfortable. Director Nacho Cerda goes the extra mile to make sure that it is just more than uncomfortable – it’s disturbingly brutal, to where you wonder if it is an actual dead body Cerda is using to film. It is deadly convincing. The special effect is simply perfection. I don’t know about you, but death is something you don’t want it at all, especially after watching this. Its theme is clearly about the violation of the dead body, but that doesn’t come across easily to the audience because of its flawless creation of the grotesque. And necrophilia comes in to play. Everything about the film is very wrong. An autopsy is one thing, but sexing up the dead is something else. And I thought a lady stroking a horse in EMANUELLE IN AMERICA was sick. But doing animals seems kinda normal compared to this. Death is certainly not the end of life, at least not in Cerda’s vision.

As if you couldn’t tell, AFTERMATH isn’t something for everyone. I’m not sure it’s for anyone. But if you have the guts to sit through 30 minutes of pure, cold-heartedness, you might see the meaning of life in a different way.

The Unearthed Films DVD also includes Cerda’s GENESIS, a short film about a grieving artist, sculpting an exact life-size replica of his wife who recently passed away in a car accident. The sculptor’s attempt to capture her images so she can live forever – if only as a memory – takes a darker turn. The opposite of AFTERMATH, GENESIS is beautiful and perhaps lyrical, technically fleshed out to its potential. And there’s AWAKENING, a 10-minute B&W short that captures the experience of death in frozen time. The images are filled with marvelous visual finesse, but naratively, this is quite poor.

If you have the stomach for it, there is also a 30-minute MAKING OF AFTERMATH, which is interesting to watch just to see how they created the dead body. In a 40-minute audio interview with Cerda, he talks about his initial concern regarding making film about necrophilia and so on. –Shogo

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Jeff Merchant is a member of The Lullabies, and his WINDOW ROLLED DOWN disc also features members of Listing Ship (which got a rave review here not too long ago), Stew and Brian Wilson’s band. Unfortunately, that’s about the most exciting thing one can say about this release. Ultra-soft, dreamy, ethereal vocals never seem to elevate into anything that really stands out, and soon, your head is nodding and you’re all depressed. Even when something fun happens, like the funky wacka-wacka opening on “Guy,” the song quickly morphs into every other song on the album, even with its jazzy bridge. It may be fine for rainy days if you’re on Valium. –Mark Rose

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I’ll admit I’m curious about THE GARDEN, which hits DVD on July 11 from Anchor Bay. It stars Lance Henriksen, which automatically makes it worth at least a look.

It’s about a boy with mental “issues” that cause him to see an alternate reality. From the looks of the trailer, that alternate reality (or is it?) entails sword-slingin’ knights on horseback, snakes in trees and bathtubs full of blood. Oh, and Sean Young. It all has something to do with the coming of armageddon, and end-of-the-world horror-thrillers are always on my radar.

Plus, THE GARDEN comes fresh from the oven of lucrative ’80s TV writer/producer superstar Stephen J. Cannell and former stuntman Don Michael Paul, who directed the highly stupid but highly entertaining Steven Seagal prison flick HALF PAST DEAD. The DVD includes commentary from Paul, a behind-the-scenes documentary, the trailer and more.

Before SUPERMAN RETURNS soars at the box office, A&E is broadcasting the two-hour documentary LOOK, UP IN THE SKY!: THE AMAZING STORY OF SUPERMAN, from directors Bryan Singer and Kevin Burns. You can catch it tomorrow, before it hits DVD on Tuesday.

The film covers all of Superman’s incarnations from print to screen and beyond, loaded with interviews and rare footage, including clips from the failed SUPERPUP live-action TV pilot and the Broadway musical.

If you’ve ever seen Burns’ other two-hour francise-encompassing docs – EMPIRE OF DREAMS: THE STORY OF THE STAR WARS TRILOGY, THE OMEN LEGACY, THE ALIEN SAGA or BEHIND THE PLANET OF THE APES – you know this will be a total class production all the way.

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Sheri Zombie, aka Mrs. Rob Zombie and the scary-hot star of the Hitch-approved HOUSE OF 1000 CORPSES and THE DEVIL’S REJECTS, has started her own clothing line called Total Skull. What, you were expecting Kitty Cat Rainbow?

Normally I’m not the kind of guy who wears black T-shirts. I think I own two, and one of those is just for when my dad comes to my house to fix things and needs a rag. But her Total Skull logo design is so cool that I want one. There’s not much to it, but graphically, it’s simply awesome.

Basically, I’m just all about the Zombie family at the moment. Still not into Mr. Z’s music, but I still harbor big love for his BIGFOOT comic book (optioned for the movies!) and I’m all a-tingle about our previously reported news about his upcoming Turner Classic Movies series. And then, of course, there was last week’s surprise announcement of him writing and directing HALLOWEEN 9, which makes me look forward to fall 2007 already. And now the missus is making kick-ass T-shirts, adding another level to their multimedia empire. Take that, Stern.

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Hey, when did L7 get back together? Wow, they’re still just as good, dark, nasty, gnarly guitar work with growly tough-girl vocals that really hit you smack dab in the rock and roll nerve, but they seem a little slower, a little more Gothic … er …. wait … hmmm … this isn’t L7, but a threesome called Hazard County Girls. Huh. Well, still, yeah, this is pretty good and gets you moving right along in time. On DIVINE ARMOR, guitars and drums mesh well, and Donita Sparks’ vocals …. um, sorry, I mean Christy Kane’s vocals serve as the perfect angry counterclash to the driving beats. And they do a fucking brilliant cover of The Louvin Brothers’ “Knoxville Girl,” here gender-switched. A great dark rock disc that should be in your player for those whiskey-fueled nights. Oh, and it comes with a Frankenstein guitar pick, so how can you resist? –Mark Rose

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First off, yes, I know these titles are in public domain and available from many, many other outlets, often at a retail price of $5.99 or less. So why invest in the newest versions? Because not only has Legend Films gone out of there way to extensively restore these movies – replacing those budget labels’ often grainy and choppy versions with beautifully crystal clear frames — but they also got Mike Nelson, from the much-missed MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 to do commentary! Filled with the film-geek, smart-ass jokes that made MST3K such a favorite, Nelson has a field day with this these classics, providing wonderful substitutes for fans of the late, lamented series.

Fans of grade-Z cinema are undoubtedly familiar with Ed Wood’s PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE – it’s largely regarded as the CITIZEN KANE of bad films, a title that, if I may be controversial, is highly undeserved. Sure, it’s got ludicrous dialogue and hokey special effects, but it’s honestly nowhere near as bad a people make it out to be – it’s practically indistinguishable from most ’50s sci-fi fare, story and effects-wise. If it wasn’t for Wood’s personal life and his directorial decisions (massive stock footage use, constant day/night confusion and the classic replacement of the then-dead Bela Lugosi with Wood’s chiropractor who hides the switch by placing a cape in front of his face), PLAN 9 would have faded away into obscurity, appearing maybe as late-night, indie-TV station programming every once and a while.

Nelson is in fine form, cracking wise on everything from Criswell’s “tsunami” hair to jokes about Lugosi’s rampant heroin use. Dudley Manlove’s name is laughed at, as well as Swedish wrester Tor Johnson’s description as “half-human, half-elephant seal.” In addition to the quips, Nelson has trivia fact after trivia fact for us about the making of the film. In the special features, Nelson also has a very funny bit explaining plans one through eight, sandwiched in-between some long-lost Wood treasures, including home movies and rare stock commercials; these are almost as entertaining as any Wood film, all in a one-minute running time.

HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL, on the other hand, is a much-acknowledged (and well-deserved) horror classic from two great fright masters, William Castle and Vincent Price. Price, at his devilish best, is a creepy millionaire married to a greedy shrew of a woman, who, as it’s constantly mentioned, has tried to off him more than once. As Nelson says in the commentary, “Why don’t they spend that money on counseling?” Because, if they did, they wouldn’t have invited five guests to spend the night in a haunted mansion, wherein if they make it until morning, will each receive $10,000 in cash, son!

Of course, it’s not that simple – dancing skeletons, acid pits, suicides, decapitated heads in boxes and two spooky servants are determined to see to that. Is the house really haunted or is it all one big red herring? As jaded and cynical as horror fans are today, HOUSE may earn scoffs in it’s simplicity, but if you can put the aloof veneer away for 75 minutes, you’ll see that it is really a twisting, is-it-real-or-isn’t-it whodunit that does keep you guessing from beginning to end – something from which today’s modern horror filmmakers could take a bit of a lesson.

Whereas in PLAN 9, Nelson’s commentary was a mix of quips and facts, here he just lets go and makes one hilariously pointed barb after another, never letting up in his critiques of every facet of the film, from Price’s Salvador Dali-esque appearance to the house’s built-in acid vat. It’s highly reminiscent of one of the best episodes of MST3K and worth the price of admission alone.

Overall, both discs are great additions (if not the best so far) to the Legend Films/Mike Nelson series (which, in case you missed it, includes REEFER MADNESS, NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, CARNIVAL OF SOULS and the just-released LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS), all of which should be on the top of your must-buy list, regardless. –Louis Fowler

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• he only words I can think of for Shannon Whirry is “WOW”.
• This flick really has a crazy storyline to it, but seeing Whirry in those scampy undergarments and in the flesh is an absolute treat.
• i liked it it seamed to capture all of shannonns beauty.
• Not a top-of-the-line evil nude kinkfest from Shannon Whirry, but it might turn the crank of some of you. The best scene is when Whirry tries to escape and jams her huge funbags in a doggy door… They end up greasing her up, which I have always wanted to see.
• As she is imprisioned in what could be inferred as a metaphorical construction of Richard’s yearning lust for superiority, the viewer is reminded of Plato’s allegory of “the Cave”, however, in this tale, the table is abruptly turned, “climaxing” (literally) in a orgy of indulgence and vice.
• She’s dancin’ in front of a big mirror , she undresses herself from the waist up,and she’s dancin’ to a romantic love song while both of her beatiful,big boobs are exposed. The scary stuff,the sex,and the fun make The Granny 3 times as good!
• Shannon Whirry is like no other actress anywhere in the world. This movie is the greatest piece of work ever caught on film. You will fall in love with her after five minutes of watching this. You’ll quit your job, leave your family and just watch this movie over and over again, forever.

And just in case you’re wondering whatever happened to Shannon Whirry, she’s making tick collar commercials.

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Ohio quartet Miranda Sound’s last album, ENGAGED IN LABOR, was one of my favorites when released in late 2002. So much that two of its tracks have never – and will never – leave my iPod (”Midas” and “The Boy Is on the Outside” – you’re welcome in advance). Their long-awaited follow-up, WESTERN RESERVE, might not have anything quite as instantly catchy, but it’s a more mature work, and a testament that the good ol’ American rock song will never die, charts be damned. From start to finish, the album is quality – big, full-sounding, indie-rock anthems, written with intelligence and sung in earnest. The band is polished, driven by excellent guitar work and drumming, but never sacrificing sound over substance, as the four craft meaningful, listenable lyrics rather than some inane catchphrase geared to sell phone plans. What a concept! As the title promises, the album is rich in melody, majestic in scope and honest in all. –Rod Lott

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There’s not much less attractive than a band name like Poo Poodles, but not much more oddly charming than their wonderfully deranged new album, HERE COMES THE FUTURE. There are two great ways to describe it: 1) a guy, a girl and a four-track, and 2) “25 tracks in 14 minutes and 59 seconds,” as the liner notes read. And, no, that’s not a joke. (I suppose naming a 30-second song “Frusciante (Extended Mix)” is, but I’ll be damned if you get much breathing room to ponder such a thing.)

These cute, warped little homemade ditties rattle off with aplomb – twee vocals, hard guitar, catchy beats and the occasional cartoon sound effect. But let’s be honest: This type of musical tomfoolery ain’t for everyone; either you’re up for someone saying “Doing the naked dance! La la la la!” over and over for the entirety of a song or you’re not. If you’re not, let me point you this way; if you are, allow me to congratulate you on your willingness to be daring, and share some other choice lyrics from this marathon of mentally unhinged melodia:
• “Hey mama, papa says, ‘give me ten dollars for gas and tacos.’” (from “Hey Mama Papa Says”)
• “Banana man, banana man, banana man, eggboy!” (from “Bananaman/Eggboy”)
• “P-3, that’s my favorite level. Parking garage!” (from “P-3″)

Still with me? Good. It’s like They Might Be Giants suffered head injuries and lost their recording contract. In other words, something I’d like to hear. Oh, yeah, they also sell some kick-ass T-shirts, too. –Rod Lott

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