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My Lovely Burnt Brother and His Squashed Brain (1988)
it kicks some major...
Been in Italy. Still am. Done this, done that. Someone in Milano passed me a copy of this movie he'd found somewhere. That someone was old Alessandro. Well, I trust old Alessandro. Good guy, good guy, really knowledgeable, especially when it comes down to real sleazy flicks. Anyway. I chugged down some malt liquor and the show begun. An hour or something later, was I impressed! I mean, scarred zombies, fetish shots and much, much more. But, the soundtrack did it. Real garage punk from a real good, honest to god garage band. Bopping to the beat, I was. This movie is not a gem, but it is so warped and so utterly strange it deserve some respect. Respect, respect, ladies and gentlemen! Would really, really like to know if the pickled cerebellums behind this trash-delicious-supreme-hold-the-mayo are still alive and churning out other violent, obnoxious splatter fest in Italy, Brasil, Kongo or some such. First rule: do trust Alessandro.