After a one-night affair, George (Lincoln Bevers) finds himself with, well, forbidden power and a cryptic message.

He should be so lucky.

George used to be a pilot, but now he’s stuck in a corporate drone job and forced to work with a jerk named Miles (Eric Stayberg). As they head to another soulless convention, he meets Veronica (Nasanin Nuri), who goes back to his room faster than he could expect. She refuses his offer to wear a condom, and they have the kind of sex that you only used to read about in Penthouse Forum. He wakes up; she’s gone, and a strange note is left behind. 

He feels a strange energy now. When he sails the sea of mayonnaise with his girlfriend Cathy (Hannah Janssen), he lasts longer, has more passion and finally, perhaps for the first time, gets her off. He’s also able to become a martial arts master in a matter of days, thanks to that power and the teachings of Chang (Harry Mok). 

He wonders, “How could this happen to me?”

That leads him to try to find Veronica, which brings him into her backstory: as a child, she met something inside a crater. But it’s not all kung fu and carnal knowledge. There’s also a cabal of dudes who have buttered Veronica’s crumpet, led by Michaelson (Charles Leggett), who have formed a secret society of rich elites. George is on his way, as the power teaches him how to play the market. He has no interest whatsoever in joining this Bilderberg bangers. But ah, Veronica is part of them and is consolidating her power.

You will believe in a vast conspiracy obsessed with destroying the Status of Liberty. The one in Vegas. Of all the landmarks to target, choosing the New York-New York Hotel & Casino version is high stakes, but on a budget.

If there were an award for “Movies That Feel Like They Were Written by a Sentient 1980s Men’s Magazine,” this would be the undisputed champion. Yet director Paul Kyriazi isn’t a newcomer. He also made Death Machines, Omega Cop and Ninja Busters. And he’s obsessed with personal development and success, having written books on the subject like How to Live the James Bond Lifestyle and Clearing the Subconscious for 00 Agents. In his world, sex isn’t just sex. It’s Energy Transfer, which turns a standard erotic thriller setup into a superhero origin story.

It’s rare to find a modern film that captures the earnest, slightly off-kilter energy of a 1980s straight-to-video action flick. It doesn’t feel like it’s winking at the camera or trying to be a parody. Forbidden Power genuinely believes in George’s journey from a bored drone to a stock-market-crushing, kung-fu-fighting alpha.

Kyriazi also wrote Burt Reynolds, Miko, Dinah and The Slasher: The True Story of a Serial Killer Waiting in Burt’s Closet and man, I have to just share the Amazon sales copy: “February 1975. Burt Reynolds was awakened by a bloody man crawling on his bedroom floor. About to call an ambulance, Burt came face to face with the infamous Skid Row Slasher, bloody machete in hand. What saved Burt from disaster? What woman did he break up with that ultimately saved him, and probably her?”

EDITOR’S NOTE: Today’s movie is brought to you by Eddie R., who subscribed at the Big B&S’er tier.

Would you like me to write about the movies of your choice? It’s simple!

1. Visit Ko-Fi.
2. Join as a monthly member for just $1. That makes you a Little B&S’er.
3. As a Medium B&S’er at just $3 a month, if you pick a movie or a director, I’ll write about them for you. In fact, I’ll do one for each month you subscribe and even dedicate the post to you.
4. For $5 a month, you basically get some major power. As a Big B&S’er, I’ll write an entire week on any subject you’d like. Every month, if you’d like.

Thanks for picking this, Eddie R. It was very much a blind spot!

Janine Talbot (Delvene Delaney in her only full-length theatrical role, but she’d go on to be a TV game show presenter) is hitchhiking through Australia, but please — spoilers all over this — don’t get to know her. Whoever has picked her up, she instantly begins to make love to them, even calling out how quick they’re moving, but not stopping them. Then, without warning, she’s dead.

Was it merchant sailor Mark Gifford (John Waters, a child star who was on the Aussie TV show Play School for twenty years; since then, he’s done a one-man show about John Lennon), who has disposed of the body? Or perhaps his brother, Robert (George Mallaby, mostly known for playing a police officer on Homicide, The Box and Cop Shop in Australia; he also owned the first hazelnut farm Down Under; sadly, Mallaby spent the last four years of his life in a wheelchair after a series of strokes), a tense young man confined to a wheelchair?

These adopted brothers spend most of the movie literally at war with one another, mainly because they’re both in love with their cousin, Margaret (Belinda Giblin, who was on the Australian TV show Sons and Daughters). Despite the fact that Robert doesn’t have use of his legs, he’s really rough on his brother, who the police suspect in a series of hitchhiker murders beyond the one we’ve seen in the opening of this film.

Based on Russell Braddon’s novel, which was set in England, this was directed and written by Tim Burstall as a two-lead, single-location film that could be done on a budget while he prepped the film Eliza Fraser (which also stars Waters and Mallaby). He may be better known for movies like Stork, Alvin Purple and Attack Force Z, at least in the U.S.

There are so many issues here: Robert is about to get worse, losing the use of his arms, so his brother will be fully in charge of him. And yet he despises Mark, who has taken his girlfriend from him. Most of the film is a menacing battle of emotions between the two men, but by the end, things get awfully bloody. And as always, things may not be as they seem when it comes to who the killer is, despite this seemingly telling us who the guilty man is right at the beginning. After all, the poster says that this is a film “in the Hitchcock tradition.”

Between this, Road Games and Fair Game, my personal vision of Australia is a lawless land where women are constantly in danger of being murdered. Or being killed and then dressed up and kept in someone’s house before it’s taken to a theater and placed in a seat to watch a ripoff of A Clockwork Orange. If you look, Delaney is both blinking and breathing when she should be deceased, but don’t let that distract you from this movie.

End Play works because it messes with the previously called out Hitchcock tradition, “it claims to follow. By showing us a disposal of a body early on, it tricks the audience into a false sense of moral superiority. We think we know who the monster is. The film then spends 90 minutes making us second-guess exactly who the villain is, as well as the mental stability of both men.

What should we call Australian giallo? Down Under Sunburnt Gothic? Moscato Giallo?

You can watch this on Tubi.

Jerry Williams also directed Catnado, so know that going in.

Space queen Fiona (Leslie Rogers) is the force behind Channel D, which is my dream channel, because it airs nothing but Debbie Rochon movies. The bad part of that is that Channel D is also draining the soul of anyone who watches it. Or maybe robbing them, which better ties into the title.

Conrad Brooks from Plan 9 from Outer Space is in this. That makes sense, as the original title of that movie was Grave Robbers From Out of Space.

Debbie Rochon is as well, which you would figure, given that so much of the movie is about her.

If you told me this movie was made in the 1990s, not 2009, I would believe you.

You can watch this on YouTube.

Brian Patrick Carroll, known as Buckethead, has released more than 600 albums and 300 live bootlegs. Where most know him is from his brief time with Guns ‘n Roses. Between 2000 and 2004, Buckethead was a lead guitarist of the band, playing on Chinese Democracy and touring wih them.

Inspired by Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers, Buckethead never takes off his mask, as well as the KFC bucket on his head that says FUNERAL. As he ate chicken one night, he said “I was eating it, and I put the mask on and then the bucket on my head. I went to the mirror. I just said, Buckethead. That’s Buckethead right there. It was just one of those things. After that, I wanted to be that thing all the time.”

Since then, he has stayed in character, often communicating through a hand puppet named “Herbie” or simply letting his fingers do the talking at a speed that defies human anatomy.

This DVD serves as a chaotic time capsule, celebrating 13 years of the artist’s most formative and bizarre moments. Eschewing high-definition gloss, the footage is presented in a grainy, SOV (Shot-On-Video) style that feels like a cursed VHS tape found in the basement of an abandoned amusement park.

The appeal of Buckethead is binary. If you are a fan, this collection is a holy relic of The Coop. If you aren’t initiated into his world of nunchucks, robot dancing, and 12-minute experimental shred-fests, this DVD will likely leave you deeply disturbed and utterly confused.

You can watch this on YouTube.

The film positions the pandemic not just as a health crisis, but as the ultimate permission slip. When Jimmy (director, writer and everything else Timothy J. Gray) loses his job, the social contract expires. The accidental death of his neighbor’s dog acts as a gateway snack, a moral crossing that convinces him that in a world that’s stopping, he can finally start.

Jimmy then kills and eats several people, many of whom are also Timothy J. Gray. If you’re someone who doesn’t deal well with SOV or pandemic cinema, filmed by a small crew of sometimes just one person, this may not be the movie to start with.

One of the most surreal elements of the film is Gray playing almost every role. This creates a bizarre atmosphere where Jimmy isn’t just killing strangers; he is essentially harvesting different versions of himself. Is Jimmy actually killing neighbors, or is this a psychological manifestation of his own self-loathing and isolation?

Knowing Gray is often the only person behind and in front of the camera adds a layer of genuine madness to the performance. You aren’t just watching a character lose it; you’re watching a filmmaker work through the logistics of a one-man gore-fest.

You can get this from Janice Click.