Boardinghouse
The first shot-on-video horror feature, blown up to 35mm and just as ugly as that sounds.
reelscum catalogues 105 exploitation films from the 1980s. They were released between 1980 and 1989. The subgenres that appear most often are Splatter (22 films), Slasher (18 films) and Video nasty (16 films).
The countries credited most often are USA (42), Italy (30) and Canada (9). Directors with more than one entry in the decade include Dario Argento (4), Lucio Fulci (4) and Enzo G. Castellari (3).
Entries include Boardinghouse (1982), Human Lanterns (1982) and The Queen of Black Magic (1981). Each links to its own page with a verdict, rating axes and where to watch.
The first shot-on-video horror feature, blown up to 35mm and just as ugly as that sounds.
A Shaw wuxia that turns into a slasher, with lanterns made of human skin.
Suzzanna, Indonesia's horror queen, wronged by a whole village and collecting on the debt.
Shaw Brothers black magic: worms, curses and a Taoist priest fighting a Thai sorcerer.
A slow-burn gothic in a nursing home. Much better than its obscurity suggests.
Ninety minutes of restrained Shaw revenge, then twenty of rotting-corpse insanity.
Bruce Lee is cloned three times to fight crime. Bruce Le, Bruce Lai and Dragon Lee, together at last.
Brazil's Boca do Lixo does women-in-prison with everything the drive-in cut left out.
Chang Cheh spills more guts here than in any Shaw film before it, and grins the whole way.
The most deranged thing Shaw Brothers ever paid for, and it never slows down to explain itself.
The budget vanished mid-shoot and they kept going. Chaotic, mean, fun.
A woman alone at an outback wildlife reserve is hunted by three kangaroo poachers. Lean and nasty.
Jack Palance chewing a fantasy kingdom to splinters while a sword flies about on wires. Beloved for it.
The Terminator, if the machine were a sea goddess and had no shame whatsoever.
The Indonesian one everybody means: a flying witch's head, viscera trailing, hunting in the dark.
The hit that proved Indian audiences would pay to watch a man in a rubber demon mask.
A drive-in turned into an internment camp. The satire is not subtle.
The Italian Road Warrior with sand instead of the Bronx, muscle car included.
D'Amato and Eastman's Mad Max in a cowboy hat. Assembled entirely from better films.
Linda Blair goes to prison. A sleazy 80s update of the formula, with a corrupt warden and a hot tub.
Fulci does Conan through so much fog you can barely see the gore. Somehow that helps.
The fake snuff film that got Charlie Sheen on the phone to the FBI.
The women-in-prison film as its own punchline, fronted by the lead singer of the Plasmatics.
Rollin's best late film. Melancholy where the Italians were loud.
Corman's Argentine Conan-with-women, honest bottom-shelf swords and loincloths.
A parasite gives a young man euphoric highs in exchange for feeding it brains. Addiction as horror.
Incoherent even by the standards of the cycle. The Peter subplot is unforgivable.
Vietnam veterans as cannibals. Sillier and kinder than the jungle cycle.
Zombies that run and use guns, decades early. Incompetent in enjoyable ways.
Lau Kar-leung's brutal last great Shaw film. A massacred family, and pole fighting as grief.
Cannibals and zombies at once, reusing the Zombi 2 sets and cast.
Joe D'Amato's Conan, giant puppet spider and all. Miles O'Keeffe swings the sword.
The Ramsay brothers' witch movie, with musical numbers between the murders.
Lustig doing it straight. Robert Forster deserves better and knows it.
Late Italian entry. Laura Gemser, and a body count instead of a plot.
Alien via Rome, with exploding chests and a Goblin score doing heavy lifting.
Bruno Mattei rips off Dawn of the Dead with a Goblin score he also stole. Gloriously shameless.
Spanish, incoherent, and gleefully stupid. 'Bastard! Bastard!'
Larry Cohen, a dragon over Manhattan, and a great Michael Moriarty.
Deodato points Last House at a dinner party. Grubby, mean, effective.
Troma's toxic high school, second only to Toxie. Exactly as stupid as you want it to be.
A giant pig film shot like a perfume ad. Somehow works.
Corman in Argentina. The genuine article, for better and worse.
More of the same, with flamethrowers and property developers as villains.
Linda Blair, a frat hazing, an old dark house. Atmosphere over arterial spray, and better for it.
Rear Window in a truck, with Stacy Keach and Jamie Lee Curtis.
People melt in primary colours. Tasteless, inventive, weirdly beautiful.
Castellari's Mad Max, with perspex cars and George Eastman. Sold in the US as Warriors of the Wasteland.
Starts as caveman fantasy, becomes science fiction with no warning.
The last fertile woman on Earth, in a quarry outside Rome.
A killer in a giant owl mask, a locked theatre, and Soavi announcing himself.
Written as satire, shot straight, and stranger than either choice on its own.
A three-bladed sword that fires two of the blades. Sold on that alone.
Almost entirely people walking around an island. Then two minutes of infamy.
Lenzi recycling other films' footage into a Jonestown story. Grim work.
Tobe Hooper does a carnival slasher. A deformed killer, a hall of mirrors, and real dread.
Fred Williamson in a cape. Castellari doing Warriors on a Roman budget.
Stan Winston effects and a good twist. Underseen.
A teen suspects his rich family are not human. The finale proves it, wetly.
Ferrara's best. Zoë Lund is extraordinary and the ending is a genuine image.
Genuinely nasty and hard to defend. The killer quacks. It doesn't help.
Savini's effects, Spinell's performance, and a very bleak little film.
Jodorowsky's late masterpiece. A circus, a cult, an armless mother, and her son's hands.
Two Lone Wolf and Cub films chopped into one English dub. A grindhouse legend regardless.
A costume party on a moving train, a killer swapping disguises, and Jamie Lee Curtis again.
A flamethrower and a meat grinder. Death Wish with the restraint removed.
$35,000, shot on 42nd Street, and completely charming. The best kind of cheap.
Death Wish enrols at high school and the faculty loses.
German, banned widely, and much sadder than its reputation suggests.
Ninety minutes of nothing, then an ending nobody who has seen it forgets.
Sixty-seven minutes of industrial nightmare. Nothing else looks like it.
A killer in WWII combat gear stalks a graduation dance. Savini's best gore work.
Stuart Gordon and Jeffrey Combs do Lovecraft again. A machine that lets you see what should stay unseen.
A prestige director slumming in the glut, and a poster more famous than the film.
Canadian, mine-set, unusually well shot. The censored cut ruined it for decades.
Needles taped under the eyes so she cannot look away. Argento's last truly great film.
The raft scene is the best kill in any slasher. The rest is fine.
Lenzi chasing Deodato with none of the argument. Real animal deaths, no defence.
The drill scene. Otherwise thin, but the atmosphere is thick.
The killer-Santa movie that got itself run out of cinemas in a week.
The one that is actually fun. Ferrets steal the film.
Turkish Star Wars. Contains actual Star Wars footage. Not licensed.
Troma's only good film, and the head-crushing is still funny.
Sayles again. A flushed pet in the sewers, and it knows how silly that is.
Jamie Lee Curtis, a masked killer, and a decade-old secret. Halloween cashes in, disco included.
Shot at weekends over four years by Jackson and his friends. Astonishing.
Argento's sequel to Suspiria. Even less plot, even more colour. A building that is alive.
A dead cop stalks New York in uniform. Larry Cohen writes, Robert Z'Dar's jaw does the rest.
Insect telepathy, a Swiss boarding school, and a straight-razor chimpanzee. Argento off the leash.
On the nasties list by pure bureaucratic accident. An actual masterpiece about divorce.
Argento's coldest and cleverest. That crane shot earns its reputation.
Makes no sense whatsoever and is Fulci's best film. Dream logic, fully committed.
George C. Scott versus a bouncing red ball. The best serious ghost film of its decade.
Punk soundtrack, running zombies, and the film that invented 'BRAINS'.
Abandons realism entirely. Bronson defends a housing block with a machine gun.
Where the effects and the writing finally matched. Jeffrey Combs is perfect.
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