OH HAI Kneel Before Zod! Happy 1st Year of B-movies Day OK Byeeeee

Oh Hai KBZ! Happy 1st B-day

On the brink of yet another Superman film incarnation that no doubt promises to be an utter sack of shite, why not do as the villains command during the original Superman III & KNEEL BEFORE ZOD???

Surely what is Nottingham’s bestest cult cinema club threw a typically lo-fi double feature + DJ knees up at Broadway Cinema last Friday to celebrate it’s 1st birthday. Averaging at least one event each month my 3 fave brave boys Rich, Ed & Ally (Norman online) together span the full range of facial furnishings & have already shown some corkers which in their own words on twitter have Brought you the best of celluloid crimes, obscure classics and terrible posters, in front of your aghast and astonished faces.! All manner & array of b-movies, dodgy novel creature invasions & ridiculous plothole-cum-disaster self-directed alt. classic romps (here’s looking at you Tommy Wiseau).

This quality of pencilmanship is maintained with every KBZ flyer

Kicking off proceedings at the earlier time of 6 on a Friday (otherwise known as Alco O’Clock or The Snacking Hour in my schedule) numbers started small. Alas one helluva Troll 2 themed cake canopy much of which literally said ‘EAT MEEE!!’didn’t skimp on the green food colouring & a superb combo flyer display of 9 previous KBZ nights bar the Bowie Tribute eve at which the rather excellent Nordenfelt made their live debut despite being seen by no-one who actually went to see THEM would ya believe?

By rolling a retro-tastic VHS & large screen TV into the side room alongside those foolish tendered mortals’ upstairs bar, the setting resembled Berlusconi’s penthouse via plenty of plush seating & tinted glass for extra bunga-bunga discretion. Those clunky black encyclopaedia-sized cassettes look from another lifetime and the wobbly white lines floating across screen made me wonder how exactly given the relative quality of picture we ever knew that every VHS wasn’t pirated or at least eaten off by Mongolian cannibals before they used the streams of tape roll as party poppers.

Weekend at Bernie’s II is possibly the most true to life yuppie zom-com in terms of voodoo origin, zombified movement & setting. Set on a highly debated US-owned Virgin Island in the Caribbean where folk dress like anything but virgins. Uncle Bernie’s corpse is reanimated by the 2 sons of a local Voodoo Priestess using black magic to James Brown’s Sex Machine from which moment on various parties try to steal his fortune & tropical calypso grooves appear to make his buttocks wiggle. I’ll spare you the finer details of this true-to-life highly consistent caper-filled sequel.

I did not have sexual relations with that woman...i was dead at the time - dead randy a-hu-hur

This was followed immediately by Evilspeak in which Stanley Coopersmith (Clint Howard) becomes empowered by Estaben (or the remarkably less sinister sounding Steven in Spanish), Satan & Morrissey in equal measure; the latter in the “ooh check me out I’m hovering Christ-like” & hair department. Due to his grotesque appearance, general clumsiness & preoccupation with cleaning out pigs, Stanley endures institutionalised bullying from all sides at his military encampment. Finally after failing to hit on Miss Heavy Artillery (ain’t it always the way fellas) & being publicly humiliated on one too many occasions he completes the blood-honoured consecration of his host to transform into Esteban until inevitable heads-will-roll demonic possession ensues.

Ah bugger not again - i knew i should've laid off the spacecakes

After this heady concoction there was still the highly entertaining spectacle of a DJ set in the main bar featuring 2 projector screens. The one facing away from the entrance was better hidden & our boys clearly exploited this fact with soft-cock 70s & 80s images of naked ladies who resembled Kevin Keegan at his peak changing videos behind menu options screens which seems to involve an unnecessary amount of bending. Whilst titillating heartily with friends, arms could be spotted exiting brief glimpses of areas where arms shouldn’t. This probably caused sophistimacated couples taking advantage (but not in that way) of the broadway bites meal-filem deal to choke on their calamari areole however continental an option. Alas the other screen showed a looping show-reel of all trailers & most movies shown at previous KBZ nights. Result: Money raised for the Salvo with cake slices to gogo! Truly these guys throw film & music nights not to be missed if you want the best of baaad (in both the Michael Jackson & literal sense).

Rolf Harris' marketing department should really be ashamed

 

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