Posts Tagged ‘Christianity’


666 Beware the End is at Hand

March 31st, 2010 | article by | 2 Comments »
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It’s exciting new feature time here at Wtf-Film and I’m proud to announce the start of what I hope to be a weekly feature of this site: the Psychotronic Picture Show. This feature will be reserved for only the most exceptionally strange efforts that cross my proverbial doorstep, particularly efforts about which I’m at a loss to write in any traditional sense. First up is an appropriately bizarre Nollywood epic of the end times, the first of four (count ‘em!) video films that collectively constitute the greatest apocalyptic evangelical Christian series in the history of Nigerian cinema!

Christianity is a relatively new development in Nigerian history, the evangelical type even more so, and if recent studies are any indication the Good Word is spreading like wildfire. Faith of a fundamentalist variety has proven popular enough to spawn a successful sub-genre in Nollywood’s explosive video film industry (whose output is estimated to be as high as 200 films per month by some sources), a sub-genre that, in 2007, took the inevitable leap into full-on Left Behind end-of-the-world territory.

666 Beware the End is at Hand is the brainchild of pastor-turned-producer Kenneth Okonkwo (not to be confused with Nollywood acting icon Kenneth Okonkwo, who is as famous for his extra-marital promiscuity as he is for his acting chops), whose Global Updates Pictures company is behind such other faith dramas as Covenant Keeping God and Persecution. Okonkwo was obviously quite taken with his work, his likeness graces the entirety of the lengthy end credits scrawl, but who can blame him. If I were responsible for anything as bat-shit-crazy as 666 Beware the End is at Hand I’d be plastering my name and likeness all over it as well.

666 begins in Hell, or at least a grade-school quality plywood-and-blue-screen representation of such, where Lucifer (Emeka Ani), seated comfortably in his throne, sceptre in hand, chortles about his ownership of the Earth to his gallery of she-demons. It seems the time has come for the gates of Hell to open, and for an unsuspecting mankind to feel the wrath of their one true ruler. If that’s not a sign of good-times to come, I don’t know what is!

From Hell 666 spirals into a series of unfortunate events that have seemingly little to do with Lucifer or his minions, a taste of just how Godless and heathenistic modern Nigerian life has become. Apparently pregnant women can’t hitch rides with total strangers without having to worry about being mugged by gangs of murderous abortion-crazed psychopaths (!!), and landlords can’t evict unruly tenants for fear of foot-cursing death-dealing retribution.


Meanwhile, Lucifer’s earthbound demonic support team is busy, forcing prostitutes to lick their festering leg wounds (!!) in a disgusting Catch-22 to condemn their souls to eternal hell fire.

Not to be fooled is Pastor Lazarus (Fred Ariko), who has seen the signs and is fully aware of the lateness of the hour. With the souls of all un-converted mankind at stake, Pastor Lazarus goes on a one-man crusade to gather the faithful and shepherd any wayward sheep into God’s . . . farm? At any rate there is lots of preaching . . . preaching in the streets . . . preaching in the bars . . . preaching everywhere.

Lucifer is naturally displeased with the efforts of Pastor Lazarus, whom he watches on his magical stretchy pink television screen, and sends his chief minion Ken (Clems Ohameze) to the surface to set things right. Before you can say The Omen, Ken is running about in patricidal child form and causing all manner of devilish mischief.


Fitting in . . . well, not quite anywhere . . . is some super-hot Nollywood-style full-clothed demon-facilitated homosexual action, which involves lots of rolling around, groaning, and pained facial expressions.

Events come to a head rather unexpectedly, as Pastor Lazurus wanders across kiddy-Ken while overseeing a crusade. What ensues is an epic battle of good and evil, full of all the gripping suspense and fantastical imagery that a static camera angle and off-the-shelf video editing software can provide. Pastor Lazarus is triumphant, and evil put at bay . . . for now . . .


If it seems like plot is pretty slim in 666 Beware the End is at Hand, that’s because it is. Not that it matters, of course. What does matter is that 666 (and its three sequels, to be covered here later) is unencumbered mind-bending backyard-budgeted fundamentalist Christian silliness from start to finish. It may be diametrically opposed to the majority of my personal opinions, outright homophobic at times and with an utterly unforgiving stance on human morality, but for pure and unadulterated craziness it’s tough to beat.  Far more fun than I was expecting from the land of 419 advance fee email scams, and recommended!

666 Beware the End is at Hand is a production of Global Update Pictures, Ltd., and is not available on home video in the United States at this time.



Ghosts That Still Walk

July 17th, 2009 | article by | 1 Comment »
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James Flocker Enterprises [1977] 96′
country: United States
director: James T. Flocker
cast: Ann Nelson, Matthew Boston,
Rita Crafts, Jerry Jensen, Caroline Howe
Order this film from Amazon.com

The teeth-grindingly sweet American teenager Mark (Matthew Boston) suffers from weird headaches and seizures. His doctors fail to find a physical explanation for the boy’s symptoms, but there is enough strangeness to his family back story to let them recommend psychiatrist and holistic weirdo Dr. Sills (Rita Crafts) to his grandmother Alice (Ann Nelson). Since the death of his grandfather Henry (Jerry Jensen) during a vacation trip with Alice and the nervous breakdown of his mother Ruth (Caroline Howe), Granny is the only grown-up taking care of Mark, and in her bible quoting, but sweet, way she’s more than willing to go to Dr. Sills if it is of any help to her grandson.

Now, if someone suffering from Mark’s problems came to you, you’d probably try and concentrate your first inquiries on him. Dr. Sills doesn’t. She seems a lot more interested in the grandparents’ deadly vacation trip and the notes his mother took while working on her last book, a treatise on a little known South-Western tribe of Native Americans.

Granny has repressed most of what happened on the fateful vacation in their camper, but every quack’s best friend – hypnosis – leads to the rather puzzling story of an invisible force taking control of the elderly couple’s car and driving them out into the desert where they are attacked by rolling stones (not the Rolling Stones, mind you). More invisible force shenanigans follow, until poor Henry dies from a heart attack while balancing on the top of a rampaging camper. Alice chooses to treat everything that has happened as a dream message send to her directly from her old buddy God, but mostly represses the whole incident.

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Even more interesting than the hypnosis session with the old woman is what her daughter’s notes have to say. Ruth found the mummy of a Native in the desert and got it into her head to revive the dead guy’s astral spirit (not to be confused with his physical or mental spirit, as the film helpfully explains) to learn all that is to learn about his tribe’s culture. Mummy-man is rather grumpy though, and bad things start to happen.

Of course, now that Dr. Sills is on the case, there’s just a little mumbo jumbo to go through until we get to something amounting to a happy ending.

Among the few people that know his name, Ghosts That Still Walk’s director James T. Flocker’s films have the reputation of being as weird as they are cheap, and Ghosts surely isn’t an exception. Part horror film, part new age idiocy fest, it is wholly peculiar.

Technically, there’s not too much to talk about here – for a locally produced low budget film, Ghosts looks nice enough. The acting’s not all terrible and everything does feel mostly competently made, but the plotting drags and meanders to get the film to a sellable running time, as is usual in this type of film.

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What is more interesting, and therefore actually worth talking about here, is the truly weird mood Flocker somehow summons out of a mobile home, a few unremarkable interiors and a whole lot of desert. It’s not a truly horrifying type of weirdness, but rather the feeling that something about the film is slightly off, as if Flocker was visiting us from a parallel dimension just a wee bit different from our own, a place where you just make a film about possessive spirits and rolling stones without showing the slightest bit of skepticism about your ideas and where no viewer has any disbelief that might need suspension.

Usually, I am quite annoyed when filmmakers throw their new age beliefs in my face (even I have standards regarding how much stupidity I am willing to take), but in this case I have no problems with making an exception for the sheer matter-of-factness of the film’s tone and the unusual nature of the rolling stone scenes. The latter aren’t as suspenseful as Flocker seems to have imagined them, but work as a perfect way to achieve that floating feeling non-mainstream cinema can induce in the brain.

The beauty of the whole thing is how little sense it makes to people not inhabiting the film maker’s mind, while it is completely obvious that to him, it all is perfectly sensible and logical.

There is a constant tension between the mundaneness of the non-desert places (too) much of Ghosts takes place in and Flocker’s bizarre brand of new age Christianity. It’s as if your pious but down to earth grandmother suddenly started to explain to you how perfectly common astral travel was in the bible, and reincarnation? Totally Jesus’ way!

One can feel an admirable stubbornness at work somewhere below the simple surface of the film.   While watching, I could never shake off the feeling that I was witnessing something intensely personal, made by a true believer in something that could never be properly articulated through a more common filmic language – something always waiting for a possibility to get out, yet never really able to.

I’d call the film a major achievement, if I only knew what exactly it does achieve, or what Flocker set out to achieve with it.

For more bizarre movie goodness, be sure
to visit Denis’ excellent review blog The Horror!?



Red Planet Mars

March 19th, 2009 | article by | No Comments »
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Melaby Pictures Corp. [1952] 87′
country: United States
directors: HARRY HORNER
cast: PETER GRAVES, ANDREA KING,
cast: HERBERT BERGHOF, WALTER SANDE

The planet Mars was no stranger to cinema screens in the beginning of the fifties. Flash Gordon had fought Ming the Merciless on the red planet as early as 1938, but it wasn’t until 1950′s DESTINATION MOON cash-inn ROCKETSHIP X-M made an unscheduled stop there en route to the moon that Mars began making appearances in the more serious science fiction efforts of the day. While the George Pal epic THE WAR OF THE WORLDS remains the most oft remembered of these, there were a host of others – one of the most obscure of these is the one covered here today, which seems to have slipped under the radar of most B-movie aficionados in spite of its being relatively available.

RED PLANET MARS begins with a startling astronomical discovery – Mars’ polar ice caps have, over the course of a week, all but disappeared, with the planet’s canals [an absurd idea popular for a brief time at the dawn of the 20th century that had been losing steam since around 1910] filling with the resulting melt water. The discovery gives much-needed inspiration to scientist Chris Cronyn [Graves], who is running the ultimate ham radio experiment – using his advanced transmitter, built from a design by genius ex-Nazi scientist Franz Calder [Berghof], to broadcast radio messages to Mars. Up until now he’s only received his own messages back in return – that all changes when Chris’ son give him the idea of sending the first few numbers of Pi without rounding the last digit. Once their original message – 3.1415 – is replied to with 3.1415926, everything changes.

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