R. O'DONNELL'S 'KREEP' KREEPS-OUT iTUNES w/THE ROT OF SWEENEY TODD

The Rot of Sweeney Todd

By

Brazillia R. Kreep

I’ve had several acquaintances like our odd Mr. Todd, but they never hovered in my life very long. They always had somewhere else to go–in a hurry–that I often thought they were bigwigs in some dark commerce or the arts, surgeons or maybe even lawyers at the least. So that when they changed their addresses, my letters to them returned unopened, I assumed they sold their properties and were living off another adventure across the salty seas. Actually, that’s not all together fair. One letter, from a Mac Z. Thumb was returned t’me, opened, with a perfectly formed bloodstain and a smear or two on the flap–a lovely souvenir. Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street is one of those shady characters. He has a past that would toss you about at night. Your fingernails gauging the bedpost in the moonlight for fear you might never sleep t’dream again. T’is good t’pity and fear the man.

The history of the Barber of Fleet Street is as long a winding road as any title character has ventured. Todd himself first appeared in 1846 as a villain of a popular “penny dreadful” (so coined because of the cost & the content) magazine serial entitled The String of Pearls. It was a hit. In 1920 he surfaced on the boards in a melodrama penned by George Dibdin-Pitt simply entitled Sweeney Todd. Then our Mr. Todd made several film appearances in English fare until he landed back on the boards in an American Broadway Musical, music and lyrics by the Great White Way icon Stephen Sondheim. That production transformed the dastardly Todd into a forlorn anti-hero instead of the murderous robber he truly was. Who could complain, really? It starred two titans of the stage Len Cariou as the deranged Sweeney and Angela Lansbury as the scene-stealing, love-starved Mrs. Lovett. And fun was had by all. Sweeney has seen several stage revivals until the Demon Barber waited patiently to be brought back to life by a super star, pretty-boy, actor extraordinaire named mister Johnny Depp–thank you very much.

A Gothic treat, a naughty piece of eye candy that seldom disappoints, Mr. Burton’s blood ballet is a lovely slice of art. It is not the penny magazine or the stage play or even the musical it was based upon, but an entirely new beast. A terrifying opera with fangs where Depp sings his bloody heart out. He holds it up for all to see, still beating, dripping crimson-goo as he rock-stars all over the celluloid screen. Wonderful. See it on DVD in a Deluxe set with all the pomp and circumstance affordable for the price. Just remember to pay homage to a villain on equal footing as The Ripper, play it at the witching hour with the lights out, a few candles burning around the house. A glass of red wine, a potpie perhaps, and, oh yes... there will be blood.

-Brazillia R. Kreep
© 2008

> The Kreep’s The Rot of Sweeney Todd on iTunes

> Kreep’s Korner on Static Multimedia

KREEP’S KORNER: THERE WILL BE BLOOD

THE ROT OF SWEENEY TODD
by
Brazillia R. Kreep

In the attic there he trots

Sweeney Todd connives n’ plots

Of ways t’spill the blood of men

Then splatter more t’say amen 

T’nightmare’s of his great love lost
Aught t’avenge at any cost

Sharp razor blades

Meat Pies in spades

The Demon Barber preps n’ shaves 

While Mrs. Lovetts bakes her pies
Tongues t’thumbs wee toes n’ eyes
Though a price this Todd will pay

Sweltering pails of blood t’weigh

T’pour them over frozen heart
T’thaw they pain t’dare depart

From bloody attic in the sky

T’down below were demon’s fry

T’devil’s purge by fires hot

Fore’er our Sweeney Todd will rot

> THE KREEP on iTUNES

DEEP INSIDE - POLLY FROST

BY: R. O'DONNELL

RATING
NR
GENRE
SCI-FI
AUTHOR
POLLY FROST
PUBLISHER
TOR BOOKS

Polly Frost loves to write. Oh yes she does. Her book Deep Inside–ten tantalizing tales of supernatural erotica, is a paperback first-date with gorgeous, naughty little secrets within. For Polly’s fingered, kissed, and hot tongued every single page of her extreme erotic fantasies, that the read keeps you easily captive until the strange little ditty she’s unleashed on you makes you squirm all turned on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just a super cool read because you’re curious about the casual use of exquisite four letter words. The kind you say to your lover out of earshot of everybody else. “Bedroom talk” my parents called it. But you take that casual air, that mischievous C'est la vie and wrap it in something all X-Files, Dexter or even Millennium for that matter and the story your reading cuddles you and then before you know it, holds you tightly as you hold your breath until its wonderful erotic finale allows you to exhale. She does this as your paramour, a sensual pen pal, and a late night caller that knows how to tell an erotic tale so completely that you’re wondering what’s next? You’re hooked. Slave to the page of Polly Frost.

She does this with a Rod Serling sneer as well, and a wink at the Sci-Fi junkies in the dark. Even bloody horror fans are howling at the moon. You bet they are. And there’ll be no spoilers here. No, sir. What for? It’s all so direct and minimal, with a very fine sprinkling of her best saucy poetry that I wouldn’t even dare. Plus everyone will ride quite easily page by page; the generation-X or Millennium brats all have equal footing here. That’s because she lets you create the personal details while she gives you everything else. Everything else. In that way you can place yourself as visitor or participant in her spicy narrative: extraterrestrials, serial killers, sex-crazed school girls, cops and robbers, lawyers, accountants, and everybody else roam her pages uninhibited.

To be honest, it all gets so in-you-face and matter-of-fact right off that it doesn’t really seem all that taboo. I mean to say, when couple’s play grab-ass in a crowd, everybody smiles and thinks, hey–they’re just in love. Same thing here. You know you’re in safe sure hands with Polly and so you easily give up all your judgments, sit back, relax, and take the steamy ride-guilt free. Or maybe you just like hanging with the guilt. And that’s okay too. Whatever turns you on.

Polly Frost loves to write. You bet your sweet ass she does. And if you want to experience something sensual and wicked, something you might read out loud to your significant other, or keep hidden away for solitary impressions, Deep Inside by Polly Frost is a tight, hip sassy read. Now, I’m not saying everything here is the best I ever had, after all, that’s all subjective and in the bedroom–one person’s turn-on is another person’s nightmare-the point of these stories after all. But I bet you can find, as I did, several stories here that almost bordered on fine art. But you’ll have to find them for yourself. I’ll never kiss n’ tell.

TIME TO GET BAT-TIZED

by
R. O'Donnell

You’re a Batman aficionado, a been-there-done-that read-it-all about Gotham’s Dark Knight, and you’re having a little debate with another claiming to be a Batman buff. Okay then. Your buddy digs down deep into the super heroes’ celebrity, and throws a question at you about the earlier Batman Detective comics (gulp) and a little ditty about the misguided super hero Blue Beatle. Yeah...? Well, was he one, two, or three super heroes trying to get a piece of the Gotham crime-fighting pie? Um...? How about naming the Gotham City Police Department? I’m talking about the first, second, and third shift, and the top cop they reported to? Okay, no problem, easy, huh? Planet Zurenarrh? Could you tell me a bit about Planet Zurenarrh? You’re stumped, you’re hemming and hawing, starting to sweat, want to change the subject and then "bingo" – The Essential Batman Encyclopedia, page 60-61 has got the answer to the Blue Beatle riddle–three by the way, it’s in the book, and I’ve got one (Big Joker laugh, folks) And Zurenarrh, page 385, that planet on the other side of the galaxy that in 1958 called upon Batman to protect them from alien invaders–boul-ya! Mission accomplished!

The reason you come off smelling like the Batman scholar of all time is because Bob Greenberger, former DC Editor, has done it all for you. He’s packed into 400 plus pages all you would ever need to know about the who-what-when-where-and why of the entire Batman legacy. The Essential Batman Encyclopedia, a completely updated version of the 1976 Michael Fleisher Encyclopedia of Comic Book Heroes, Volume 1: Batman, covers 70 years of Batman history in one whoop-ass book. And if that doesn’t baffle your buddies, plug their pie-holes with loads of insider scoop on ALL the Batman core titles and many of the Batman family books–well? The damn thing is certainly heavy enough that you could easily threaten the little buggers with it–believe me, they’ll shut up.

Everything is here and great for late night reading: blanket over your head, favorite tunes plugged in your ear, candy bar, flashlight in hand, turning the pages as if they were gold leaf–C’mon. The Essential Batman Encyclopedia covers DCU storylines like "Crisis on Infinite Earths," "No Man’s Land," "Identity Crisis," and "War Games." There’s big-time Batman info from the Outsiders titles and the Justice League to the Batman squads in The Brave and the Bold. Thanks to Greenberger you get a detailed account of how characters were created and how they evolved over the years, name changes, attitude adjustments, and weapons galore. Especially Batman’s arsenal of deadly toys. The evolution over the years reveals how he slowly slips into the shadows to embrace the Dark Knight persona we all love...and fear.

And just so you don’t think it’s all text here, kiddies, the full color spreads will make your eyes pop out. Over 300 in all! Cat Girl in living color, from first introduction to her latest and greatest cat gear is enough to make you howl at the moon–ladies too. The artwork, the pen and ink, the colorings are all collector worthy. But the best part of The Essential Batman Encyclopedia is everything Batman: the Bat Cave, the Bat Car, the Batman family tree, Robin, the villains like The Joker, Two Face, Ra’s al Ghul, Penguin, The Riddler, yadda-yadda-yadda–it’s all here, folks, tenfold.

So before The Dark Knight movie hits the theatres this weekend, don’t wait to be stumped by your friends by anything Batman ever again, get all you need for your bat salvation with The Essential Batman Encyclopedia available now. Time to get Bat-tized, folks!

'THE KREEP' DESKTOP WALLPAPER FREE HERE!

Writer/producer R. O’Donnell, known in Chicago for having created and produced the professional theatre company New Age Vaudeville, the New Variety cabaret, and the R. Rated Fox Chicago TV show, is about to unleash his syndicated Gothic character, The Kreep in a series of columns, books, podcasts, and merchandise published/produced by Static Multimedia.

Partnering with Static Multimedia (a devision of Static Networx), R. O’Donnell’s The Kreep a.k.a Brazillia R. Kreep–a Gothic poet, writer, and illustrator–will start appearing in regular syndication on Static Multimedia http://Staticmultimedia.com under the title Brain Waves. The first series will be reviews of classic horror on DVD such as MGM’s Midnight Movies Witchfinder General, starring Vincent Price.

“The Kreep has already made a lot of new media appearances,” says creator O’Donnell, “The Kreep’s on MYspace (http://Myspace.com/bakreep,) The Kreep’s on twitter, (http://twitter.com/thekreep,) and The Kreep’s on blogs such as got2write (http://got2write.wordpress.com,) and now The Kreep’s on Ezine Static Multimedia (http://StaticMultimedia.com) and I couldn’t be more thrilled for the interest in the guy.”

Brazillia R. Kreep a.k.a The Kreep is a forlorn Gothic poet and illustrator living in Kreepsville. The Kreep lives in an old Victorian mansion near lake Scares.

*Logo above designed by underground street artist Dull1

*Contact@r-productions.com


> Downloadable The Kreep Desktop Wallpapers here:

BARBARA HASHIMOTO: JUNK MAIL STILL WHITE TRASH

Barbara Hashimoto: Junk Mail exhibit having a six-month run care of The Chicago Arts District, has opened its gallery doors to the public, 2003 S. Halsted Street, Chicago. The exhibit, which explores how Junk Mail intrudes on our daily life, is also open during the traditional 2nd Friday Gallery Walk that has made the Art District of East Pilsen famous to locals and tourists alike.

The public is invited to see the Junk Mail Landscapes (guest artists Michael Kozien will also present a suite of video and sound junk mail explorations), and “White Trash: Available”. Sit in front of the mounds of hand shredded junk mail and be taped making “true” Junk Mail Confessions. This is your chance to make something useful out of over a year’s worth of hand-shredded paper by fine artist Barbara Hashimoto. “Advertisers need to be more conscious of people’s right to quality of life,” says Hashimoto from a packed gallery opening this past Friday, “Junk mail is an intrusion into that right.”

Other special events throughout the year include Junk Mail Landscapes, Junk Mail Interiors, and Junk Mail Christmas where trees will be decorated using hand shredded Holiday Catalogues and other Holiday related Junk mail.

JUNK MAIL FACTS: 100 million trees are cut down to produce junk mail annually. The majority of junk mail is produced from natural forests. In 2006, Americans received 77 billion pieces of junk mail. In 2006, more than 15 million trees were cut down to produce the 1.8 billion pounds of undeliverable junk mail. (That’s above and beyond what was delivered.) 44% of the junk mail received goes unopened into the landfill.

Born in New Jersey and educated at Yale, Hashimoto’s work has been exhibited throughout Japan, The U.S. and The Middle East and is in more than 250 public and private collections including The Smithsonian Institution’s Museum of American Art, The Museum of Arts and Design (New York) and The National Museum of Women in the Arts.

> Barbara Hashimoto Website

THE ELECTRIC MIKE BRENNAN

By: R. O'Donnell

From a community sketchbook to T-shirts to a "must have graphic novel," the deep dark secrets of a successful comic book revealed.

Virginia is a student with a nifty dog dupped Blammo, and an invisible scalawag gremlin named Oogleeoog. She also has amazing electrical superpowers and can release bursts of electricity from her body at will. Welcome to Eisner-nominated Mike Brennan's graphic novel Electric Girl-a comic book for, well, just about everybody.

From a modest community sketchbook to popular Blammo T-shirts to an Eisner-award nom, the deep dark secrets of Mike Brennan's all ages comic book Electric Girl revealed.


Okay, so in the Beginning, before Electric Girl, there was Blammo! How'd that come about?

Mike Brennan: Blammo was created "almost accidentally" by me and a friend. I started a drawing in a community sketchbook that we kept in the house that we were renting. It was of something that may have possibly resembled something between a dog's head and a box. I got sidetracked by something going on in the house and never finished the sketch. Later that night, my roommate came upon the sketch and finished it. And it became Blammo---our imaginary house dog.

After a couple of years, I started using Blammo as my mascot on my illustration work. I also created t-shirts every now and again that featured a Blammo drawing. Everyone that I gave them to seemed to love them (or they were being nice to me), so I felt I was on to something... Blammo eventually became one of the core cast members of a comic strip I created (that was never picked up by the syndicates), then made the cut to Electric Girl #1.

So after Blammo hit the page you create a gremlin-type character named Oogleeoog? Where'd he come from?

I created Oogleeoog for that comic strip that I submitted for syndication. Oog was the x-factor that I felt the strip needed to keep it interesting and offbeat. He was much the same character as he is in Electric Girl, except that he had pointy tips on his head.

Now you've got Blammo the dog, Oogleeoog the gremlin dude, and later you add a high-school girl named Virginia to the brood and zap! Electric Girl ensues. Tell us more?

Well, Virginia was one of the 8 characters that I had created for this comic strip. After I finished the strip, I started getting into some of the independent/small press comics at the time. The "cartoony" and non-traditional storylines of a lot of these comics gave me the idea that I could try this.

I decided to use Virginia, Oogleeoog and Blammo in a comic book. But I felt that there was a dynamic missing from the previous comic strip. I originally added the "electric girl" theme as a bridge to the super-hero comics I read since I was a kid. The EG theme started off as a crutch for me to use as I had hoped to create some sort of super hero parody...but after writing and drawing a couple of stories (that were never published), I realized that I didn't have the desire to pursue the parody aspect.

So I thought, "Why should these electrical powers automatically make her a super hero?" That's when I decided that she wouldn't be one. But, I liked the name "Electric Girl" and the idea that this girl had these powers...and here we are!

Virginia has super electric powers and talks with an invisible creature? Not so ordinary a life. Why the fantasy to tell her story?

I didn't have the confidence to create stories that focused on just an ordinary teenage girl. I wanted to create some offbeat, mildly crazy stories. A teenage girl WITH electric powers, her dog and her invisible gremlin friend gave me more toys to play with. As all of the elements fell into place accidentally, I felt that it created an interesting premise that had a lot of potential.

Then comes the accolades for Electric Girl like being named to the "Popular Paperbacks for Young Adults 2002" list by the Young Adult Library Services Association (YALSA), and most recently being dubbed a "must have graphic novel" by the Library Journal. What's that like?

Well...of course it feels nice to be appreciated! It helps me rationalize all the hours it took to create the books. But seriously, I'm grateful for the appreciation that the librarians have for the EG books. It lets me know that I'm doing something right.

Any Blammo tee-shirts left? If not, how about a 2nd printing? C'mon!

I just came across several of them in my garage a couple of weeks ago and shipped some off to Brave New World in Newhall, CA for Free Comic Book Day. So if you happened to have been in that area, you may have been the lucky recipient of one.

I'm hoping to produce a set of Blammo, Electric Girl, and Oogleeoog t-shirts some time this year. They're fun to do, but they're difficult to sell at a profit. I have this bad habit of giving them away...

So what's next?

I've spent the better part of the year marketing the latest EG book, Electric Girl Volume 3. But, I didn't let that stop me from focusing on the future. I've been working with a friend in LA on drafts of several ideas that I think would make excellent graphic novels. As soon as one of them becomes something more concrete, I'll let everyone know. In the meantime, I also have this stash of funny stories of this certain yellow dog that I want to draw...

Who are your favorites in the biz?

Not to sound cliché, but I don't necessarily have any favorite artist or writers that I follow regularly. Having a three-year-old kid will do that to you---not nearly as much time for reading as I used to have! But I try to visit any of the local shops whenever I can and grab whatever looks interesting to me.

I just picked up the first volume of the Akira series that Dark Horse published some time ago and thought it was great. I'm going to get the rest as I get the chance. I recently got hold of some old Milt Caniff "Steve Canyon" collections---I'm amazed at how consistently well the man could draw. I always pick up anything that Mike Mignola draws...I was looking through the Making of Atlantis book some time ago and was reminded how wonderfully stylized his drawings are.

I'm a Marvel zombie at heart, but stopped regularly reading the comic books years ago. It became too much of an effort to stay with the ever-changing characterizations and reboots of my favorite characters. However, I got hooked on the Ultimates and pick up the latest issue whenever I find one.

Final thoughts on the current state of graphic novels?

Not really... I think they will eventually be the only print outlet for comics, but I wouldn't be so bold as to declare if that would be a good thing or not!

WRITER/ACTOR R. O’DONNELL DELIVERS JUNK MAIL STORIES

WRITER/ACTOR/COMEDIAN RICHARD O'DONNELL, has been invited to perform his one-man show entitled Junk Mail Stories for the extended Barbara Hashimoto: Junk Mail exhibit, 2003 S. Halsted Street, Chicago, every Saturday in November. The 45 minute show will examine in a humorous and serious light how junk mail effects our everyday lives. “It’s something Barbara and I discussed over a year ago,” says O’Donnell, also known as “R.” to his friends and colleagues, “Since Barbara’s Junk Mail exhibit was awarded another six months by the Art District of Chicago, It was just time to unite for a common cause.”

Other special events throughout the year include Junk Mail Landscapes, Junk Mail Interiors, and Junk Mail Christmas where trees will be decorated using hand shredded Holiday Catalogues and other Holiday related Junk mail.

More recently, Barbara Hashimoto: Junk Mail exhibit, will re-open its gallery doors for a reception from 6-10 PM this Friday, July 11 at 2003 S. Halsted Street, Chicago, where the exhibit grows bigger everyday. The reception will be held during the traditional 2nd Friday Gallery Walk that has made the Art District of East Pilsen famous to locals and tourists alike.

JUNK MAIL FACTS: 100 million trees are cut down to produce junk mail annually. The majority of junk mail is produced from natural forests. In 2006, Americans received 77 billion pieces of junk mail. In 2006, more than 15 million trees were cut down to produce the 1.8 billion pounds of undeliverable junk mail. (That’s above and beyond what was delivered.) 44% of the junk mail received goes unopened into the landfill.

Richard O’Donnell co-wrote the award-winning off-Broadway musical One & One, Radio City Music Hall’s A Manhattan Showboat, and co-founded the New Age Vaudeville theatre company, the New Variety cabaret, and the R. Rated television show.

Born in New Jersey and educated at Yale, Hashimoto’s work has been exhibited throughout Japan, The U.S. and The Middle East and is in more than 250 public and private collections including The Smithsonian Institution’s Museum of American Art, The Museum of Arts and Design (New York) and The National Museum of Women in the Arts.


> Wikipedia: Richard O’Donnell

“WITCHFINDER GENERAL” VINCENT PRICE CLASSIC GORE

by
Brazillia R. Kreep
a.k.a THE KREEP

Good evening kings and queens of crimson goo. Tonight’s rusty vault slowly creeks open to reveal a Vincent Price immortal classic from MGM’s Midnight Movies series, a deliciously bloody tale that is a poor man’s The Crucible of sorts: Witchfinder General.

Aptly directed by Michael Reeves. (Who died an agonizing death only a year later from an accidental barbiturate overdose-and that in itself is creepy too.) This British-made drama, originally billed as Edgar Allen Poe’s The Conqueror Worm, is a truly gory affair. Vincent Price plays the malicious Matthew Hopkins, a witch hunter that is more sinful than all the poor souls he brutally tortures combined. This is a nasty psychopath that hires an even nastier psychopathic sidekick to torture and mutilate the innocent while he’s off looking for more. Before the final credits role, enough blood has splashed across the screen, enough women have screamed their bloody guts out, and enough skin has be ripped, pinched, and stabbed, that I don’t advise having the steak tartar afterwards. Really. I’m quite serious about this. This is hard to watch sometimes or just your thing if you like stopping to look at road kill . Thank goodness the blood is bright orange or more people would loose their lunches instead of laughing their heads off. Lots of Fun extras too! Well worth the bucks my frightfully fine fiends.

Special Features including Witchfinder General: Michael Reeves’ Horror Classic doc and audio commentary with Co-producer and actor Ian Ogilvy.

What Price Fame?

When Vincent Price came out to play
All the children ran away
They’d scream and dream such awful things
Like long-fanged snakes and hornet stings
For Mr. Price was wicked see
T’bring such woes so eerily
Yet when he finally bid adieu
All the children did boo-hoo
they loved the thrills n’ chills he laid
And prayed he would come back someday

BEWARE THE SHRUBBERY - "THE RUINS" SLITHERS ONTO DVD

by
R. O'DONNELL

Alrighty then, The Ruins, according to IMDb (and they never lie) won a Golden Trailer award nomination for best horror poster. That’s right, best horror poster. Okay. There it is then. They almost won. So, go out and find the poster if you can (allposters.com) and tape that puppy to your bedroom wall and quickly turn off the lights. Then, in the moonlight or with some candles flickering in the distance for effect, simply stare at it until it you scream your bloody head off. That’s about as scary as this picture ever gets. I mean, c’mon, guys, it’s about these pissed-off Mayan vines in Mexico that whisper a horror movie soundtrack right outta Children of the Corn and can giggle all cartoony and can even imitate your voice or the ring-tone on your cell phone–this is really scary stuff.

Written by Scott B. Smith (and he also penned the book I never heard of) The Ruins has some damned good acting in it. No, really. I’m being serious now. Mostly from the two sexy lead gals though: Jena Malone (remember her from Contact, playing the young Jodie Foster role? Now she’s all grown up and my-oh-my so cute) and Laura Ramsey (Lords of Dogtown) blonde bombshell with some muscle she can really pour it on. They both deliver the goods with their ample amount of beauty, brains, and brawn, plus the ability to cry and go insane with terror and snot dripping out their noses quite believably. Did I tell you that these monster vines with red flowers also love to dive into your cuts and suck the blood right out of you like long green stringy leaches-yum. And the guys aren’t too bad either, the best performance handed-in by Jonathan Tucker (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake), they just die too easily–no dramatic monologues about I could’ve been a rock star or my mother told me not come. Shame ‘cause they could’ve handled it and the plot needed some spice.

When the horror, the horror, the horror slithers around our heroes’ feet it can get kind of tense. Until you realize once again that they’re just plants. Plants, like from Munchkin land in Oz. A vine with what looks like plastic leaves t’boot. It’s hard to imagine any real danger except a truly bad case of poison ivy–yikes. And if your indulging in any illegal herbal refreshment the whole damn movie is going to turn into a giggle fest, of course. Which may not be a bad thing, I guess. Better than a total dud. Also, there’s some pretty wicked gore here and when Tucker’s character plays MD (he’s in medical school so he has everyone search for aspirin–please don’t ask) and starts lopping limbs off with a kitchen knife. And we’re not talking about the shrubbery.

But the problem is that the repulsion needed for a truly horrifying experience just isn’t enough. And there’s this whole other subplot with a tribe of Mayans trying to keep the deadly vines quarantined by killing anyone and anything in sight. Actually, the scariest part of the whole movie was the lead Mayan played convincingly by actor Sergio Calderon–he was scary as hell. Freaked the b’jesus outta me. Oh, and the thought they dumped as much money as they did into this horror shrubbery nightmare, that gave me willies for days.

Oh, and I forgot to tell you that this was the UNRATED version, way too intense for moviegoers. So, um, move away from the houseplants before you slip the DVD in. You’ve been warned.

DVD EXTRAS are pretty cool if you dug the film, like (I’m quoting the box) never-before-seen-alternate ending. Never before seen? Of course it hasn’t ‘cause it ended up on the cutting room floor. There’s an equally exciting original theatrical ending–huh? And director Carter Smith and editor Jeff Betancourt commentary that takes itself maybe a bit too seriously for deadly weeds gone amuck.