Expose and The Golden Lady brought to book

Now up on YouTube: Clive, Nick and myself discuss the novelization of 'Video Nasty' Expose, and I try and live with the guilt that I also made them read the novelization of The Golden Lady as well.

Inseminoid and The Terminator brought to book

Just three guys with nothing better to do on a Friday night than discuss the novelizations of Inseminoid and The Terminator

The Golden Lady (1977, Jack Ramsay)

 

When it comes to movie novelizations, you grow accustomed to them occasionally diverting from their source movies. However, Jack Ramsay's novelization of The Golden Lady takes this to the extreme, by being a novelization that once in a blue moon has something in common with the movie it is meant to be an adaption of. Going off the book, I suspect The Golden Lady had a very difficult journey to the screen.

The book is based 'on an original idea by Keith Cavele and Chris Hutchins' yet neither of them are credited for that original idea in the movie. Instead, Cavele is only credited as the film's producer, while there's no mention of Hutchins at all in the film. Hutchins was a well known PR man who later became even more famous as a gossip columnist. In his autobiography 'Mr. Confidential', Hutchins briefly touches on The Golden Lady, mentioning that he and Cavele wrote a screenplay for the movie, but that he got cold feet about the movie and sold his half share in it before shooting began. So, I imagine that with Hutchins off the production, his screenplay went the same way, making it necessary for a new script to be written. The filmed screenplay is credited to Joshua Sinclair, who at various points in his life has been a medical doctor specializing in tropical medicine, a screenwriter of spaghetti westerns, an actor in Italian exploitation movies, and a close friend of Mother Teresa. Sinclair's talents weren't however appreciated by the director of the Golden Lady movie, Jose Larraz. Never one to mince words, Larraz later claimed "the script was written by some pretty boy who couldn't write a letter home to his mother".

As Ramsay based the book on an idea by Cavele and Hutchins, rather than the filmed script by Sinclair, this is I suppose how the film was envisioned before Hutchins exited, and Sinclair entered the picture. The book begins in 1945 with, less of a Golden Lady origins story, rather with a Golden Lady conception story, as a young Danish woman makes her way home by train at the end of the war. She takes a shine to a young American soldier, but as he is engrossed in a book, she falls asleep and dreams of the time when, as a child, she was sexually molested by the village idiot. She then wakes up to find the American soldier is similarly trying to get fresh with her. She succumbs to his advances and later discovers she has become pregnant by him. The language barrier prevented her from getting the soldier's name, but she did note that he was reading To Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway, so decides to name her daughter after Ernest instead. Thus, Julia Hemingway, the Golden Lady was born.

Cut to London, 1977, and the now grown up Julia Hemingway is a rich, self made career woman who likes the finer things in life, operates out of an office in Regent Street, owns race horses, enjoys being chaperoned around in a chauffeur driven Panther De Ville and giving commoners the royal wave from it. Exactly what Julia does for a living is shrouded in mystery.  At various points in the book she wears the hats of being an arms dealer, a human trafficker, a private detective and a high class prostitute. For the most part though, she is something of a fairy godmother to the rich and powerful, and makes their fantasies -which are invariably of a sexual nature- come true.

The book is very much a bloke's idea of Erica Jong era female sexual empowerment. When we first meet Julia she is picking up a guy who fancies himself as a Robert Redford lookalike and has a zipless fuck with him in a hotel room. From which we also discover that Julia likes to be the dominant one in the bedroom, literally kicking the guy into touch when he tries to get forceful and leaves him pining for her like a lovesick puppy. This is followed by a likely dig at Barbara Cartland, when Julia gets a laugh out of reading a gossip column writing by 'an aging female romantic novelist' that claims 'the days of crazy feminism were over...the pendulum had swung back, what young girls wanted nowadays was the firm hand of a dominant male'. Julia Hemingway begs to differ.

The closest Julia has to a beau is Max Rowlands, a married middle aged businessman, who has been out in the middle east rubbing shoulders with the Arabs. Max comes sniffing around, but Julia's verdict is that he is over the hill and none to great in the bedroom department. In keeping with the fairy godmother theme though, Max hires Julia to befriend his wife Pamela who is 'something of a flump', doesn't know how to dress properly and therefore is a social embarrassment to him. I suspect Pamela Rowlands is the type of person that Jack Ramsay imagined he was writing this book for. She's a bored, unfulfilled housewife who craves excitement, style and sophistication in her life. A wish that comes true when Julia's Panther De Ville pulls up outside Chez Rowlands and whisks her away for a glamorous make over, an expensive shopping trip and a threesome with two young hunks. This turns out to be one of the more honorable assignments that Julia undertakes in the book though.

The book's blurb pushes Bond similarities 'a woman whose mind works faster than the barrel of James Bond's gun' , but aside from a love 'em and leave 'em attitude towards the opposite sex, I'm not really seeing comparisons between James Bond and the book version of Julia. The film version of The Golden Lady makes more of a concerted effort to turn Julia into a female Bond. In the film she's a gun totting mercenary, who kicks ass, has Bond like gadgets and briefly rubs shoulders with Desmond Llewellyn, playing Q in all but name. In the book though, Julia is less a female Bond and more a proto Ghislaine Maxwell. At one point she is assigned to set up a date between a visiting European nobleman, the Count Frederik Kroste, and a child prostitute who has been dressed up like a bride for the occasion "his royal highness is a man of peculiar taste". An incident that forces Julia to slum it in the 'badlands' of North Kensington (the book is horribly elitist by the way) and leads to the only real stab at action in the book. When one of the other customers in the child brothel tries to force himself on Julia. Resulting in her having to fight her way past him, and a few pimps, in order to return to the safety of her Panther De Ville, and away from all the common riff raff. It should also be mentioned that Julia herself is also technically a child molester, and takes on the assignment of deflowering an underage Arab prince, Prince Ahmed of Kubran. The uncomfortable sexualisation of Ahmed 'when he began to writhe and moan, she realized that his voice hadn't yet broken' suggests that as well as a female audience, Jack Ramsay was also trying to appeal to the sort of gent who when not hanging around the Playland Arcade back then, was posting off classified ads to Films and Filming magazine....if you know, you know.

Julia's endgame appears to be to profit from an illegal arms deal taking place between Max Rowlands and the Arabs. This is being blocked by the UK government due to their ties to Israel. So Julia has to dig up some dirt on Foreign Minister Donald Smythe, in order to blackmail him into turning a blind eye to the arms deal. Fortunately for Julia, Smythe regularly visits to the Piccadilly branch of the Jacey sex cinema chain, while Smythe's wife Liz has rape fantasies. After being befriended by Julia, Liz admits "I must have seen the Clockwork Orange movie a dozen times, just for the rape scenes". The Smythes therefore are easy prey for Julia who sends Evette, one of the women who works for her, to pose as an innocent French schoolgirl and seduce Donald. Resulting in him whisking her off to the Piccadilly Jacey for a fumble in the back row, which is photographed by another of Julia's operatives using an infra red camera. I am surprised they got away with setting this scene in a real life cinema and implying that it was a hotbed of underage sex and blackmail. Clearly either this book never came to the attention of the owners of the Jacey cinema chain, or they believed there was no such thing as bad publicity. 

Julia then once again plays fairy godmother, and grants Liz's wish to be raped, Clockwork Orange style. Leading to, what is in fairness, quite a suspenseful section of the book where a paranoid Liz travels around London thinking that every man who approaches her is out to rape her. Only for her to eventually get home and discover that the rapists have been waiting for her all along. As this is a book written by a man in the 1970s though, Liz eventually begins to enjoy the rape...so all's well that ends well.

Despite having written a number of popular paperbacks during the seventies, Jack Ramsay is something of a mystery man. His most well known book is The Rage (1977) about a rabies outbreak in Britain, he also wrote Deathgame (1978) in which left wing terrorists attempt to sabotage the World Cup Tournament. About the only solid fact that is known about Jack Ramsay is that he is not an alias for Ramsey Campbell, who had written a book which he wanted to put out under a pen name, had toyed with the idea of using the name Jack Ramsay, only to be informed that there was already a writer by that name. However, due to that story being inaccurately repeated over the years it has lead many people to believe that Jack Ramsay was a pen name for Ramsey Campbell, which is not the case.

Based on the books of his that I've read, my gut instinct is that Ramsay came from a background in journalism. His books are linked by this insider view of the boozy, cut throat world of Fleet Street and usually feature heroic journalist characters trying to tear through the red tape. I'm detecting an author bringing the mental baggage of a previous or perhaps concurrent occupation with Ramsay. Just as Guy N. Smith's characters tend to be unfulfilled bank employees, Richard Laymon's tend to be High School Teachers and John Halkin's protagonists were refugees from the TV industry, Ramsay gravitates towards journalists. Here that stock character is Bernard Hawkins, a newspaper editor and columnist, who is out to expose Max Rowlands and is about the only character in the book with a moral compass. The Golden Lady also touches on another of Jack Ramsay's themes, the generational conflict between the older, more ethical Fleet Street hacks and the younger, unscrupulous journalists who are happy to destroy the lives of others in order to get that all important headline. This shows up in The Golden Lady when Hawkins forms an uneasy alliance with a guttersnipe journo called Pete in order to dig up dirt on Max, who has been partying hard with tarty models and rich Arabs. I suspect Jack Ramsay favoured the likes of Bernard Hawkins than the Petes of this world. Although Ramsay's books have an eye for attention grabbing subject matter, rabies in The Rage and left wing terrorism in Deathgame, his approach is allot more quiet and non-sensationalist than you might imagine. Anyone seeking out The Rage and expecting an over the top, scare mongering, animals attack novel will likely be left disappointed by Ramsay's realistic and low key approach to the rabies theme. Perhaps because The Golden Lady was more of a commission rather something Ramsay wrote of his own accord, Bernard Hawkins isn't the all important, central figure that Ramsay's other journalist characters were. Indeed, Hawkins just abruptly disappears from the novel, pissing off to Cornwall with a redhead only for us to later find out that he was paid off by Julia. What is striking about The Golden Lady is the absolute moral bankruptcy of the book. Julia, for example, gets a woman raped, profits from arms dealing and child prostitution, yet she's still the heroine of the book, and the character it wants you to get behind. While the characters who stand in her way, like Hawkins and Smythe, are the ones the book wants you to boo and regard as party poopers. In contrast, the movie version of Julia does much to erase these troubling aspects to the character. As depicted in the movie, Julia is more in the tradition of aristocratic female crime fighters like Lady Penelope, the Contessa di Contini from The Protectors or Penelope St. John-Borsini, the heroine of The Baroness series of Men's Adventure books. I do wonder if Jose Larraz signed onto the movie expecting to film something more along the lines of the book, whose steamy sex and scandal contents were in keeping with the softcore dramas he was making at the time like The Violation of the Bitch, Madame Olga's Pupils and Black Candles. Whereas the action oriented, Bond wannabe script that ended up being filmed was much more outside of his comfort zone, and such an out of character film for Larraz to get involved with.

At the risk of being haunted by the ghost of Jose Larraz, I have to admit that I much prefer the movie version, and think Joshua Sinclair's script managed to pull an enjoyable piece of late 1970s fluff out of the noxious mess that was captured in book form here. The film version has grown on me over the years, the book less so, but it is memorably rotten to the core, I will give it that. If you're that rare breed of person who enjoyed the movie- for we are very few- and wish they'd have been further adventures of Julia Hemingway, then this book serves as closest we're likely to get to that. Ramsay's book also feels unexpectedly topical at the moment, what with the Epstein files currently threatening to bring down governments and institutions. All these years later, The Golden Lady proves that the rich and famous have always been a fairly ghastly, depraved bunch. "His Royal highness is a man of peculiar taste".

Sweet Cyanide (1976, Charlie Chester)

 

Note: this review is a little heavy on the spoilers, but given that this book is so obscure and difficult to experience firsthand these days, I felt a deep dive was called for.

Another tale of murder and gender confusion from 'Carl Noone', better known as comedian Charlie Chester. Whereas his later book 'Even the Rainbow's Bent' dealt with a gay man who turned to murder after an ill-fated attempt to live as a woman, here Charlie tells us one about a murderous schoolgirl trying to pass herself off as a choir-boy.

The seemingly sweet and innocent Kristi Marlowe dotes on her diminutive daddy Timothy 'Tiny Tim' Marlowe but despises her new stepmother Brenda. "In little Kristi's mind...there was no peace and no harmony. There was only hate!".

Kristi is in dire need of someone to look up to, which isn't easy when your father is a jockey, and Tiny Tim puts his foot in it when he lets slip that he wishes that Kristi had been born a boy. Due to the fact that she could then have followed him into the manly world of horse racing. Frustrated by this, and overhearing that girls are similarly excluded from singing in the local church choir, young Kristi decides to go undercover as a choir boy, disguising her real gender by cutting her hair, stealing a boy's clothes and infiltrating the boys only church choir.

Chester's gender non-conforming characters never show a great deal of imagination when it comes to their choice of new identity. Whereas Even the Rainbow's Bent's psychopath Adrian merely calls himself Adrienne when he lives as female, Kristi Marlowe comes up with giving her first name a masculine twist and abridging her second one. Thus Kristi Marlowe becomes Chris Lowe. A rather unfortunate choice of name from Chester, since it's now more synonymous with the keyboard player in The Pet Shop Boys, giving you an unwanted mental image of what that Chris Lowe would look like had he been born a west end girl. I fear a young Chris Lowe would have thoroughly had the piss taken out of him, if a copy of Sweet Cyanide had ever been passed around his schoolyard. It might have even caused him to wonder 'what have I done to deserve this?'.

On the surface Sweet Cyanide hardly sounds like it has all the ingredients for an explosive book, the worlds of choir singing and horse racing hardly cry out exciting subject matter. Yet Sweet Cyanide is surprising rich in incident by Charlie Chester's standards, containing few dull stretches. This is perhaps due to the fact that Chester is initially juggling three storylines here. As well as the drama with Kristi/Chris, Sweet Cyanide follows Brenda as she embarks on an affair with her touchy feely boss J.W. Deakin, in order to further her career. Chester lets his comedy credentials slip with the saucy line 'as far as she was concerned lying back in the bedroom, might one day mean sitting up in the boardroom'.
Whereas elsewhere Tiny Tim gets a shot at becoming a big time jockey, only to find there's trouble at the top when he gets threatened by hardmen goons who want him to throw a race on behalf of their guv'nor. There is a noticeable anger in Sweet Cyanide over the diminutive among us being pushed around by taller folk. A recurring theme in both Tiny Tim's dealings with the gangsters and Kristi's experiences with the taller choirboys. Allot of which comes across as quite heartfelt and personal on Chester's behalf. Odd, as Chester looks to have been of average height, and not someone who you'd expect to carry around mental baggage over his height. Its a trait of this book that would have made more sense had 'Carl Noone' been a pen name of say, Arthur Askey or Lynsey De Paul.

Due to the demands of his job, Tiny Tim is largely an absent parent. When he isn't out horse racing he's spending time hanging out with boxers at the local steam baths and impressing them with his poetry. Suggesting that Kristi isn't the only one in her family who is suffering from sexual confusion. 'It surprised Tim too, to learn that many a hard face with a broken nose enjoyed the odd stanza of poetry'. The unexpected male bonding over poetry in Sweet Cyanide is likely the result of Charlie bringing a bit of himself to the material. In real life Chester fancied himself as a poet, and as a result of being in the public eye would regularly receive amateur poetry from members of the public, as well as incarcerated prisoners, examples of which can be found in his 1977 non-fiction book 'Cry Simba'. Fortunately for Tiny Tim his poetry wins him fans like ex-boxers Ernie and Mick the Mountain, who volunteer themselves as protection against the gangsters who are threatening to duff up the jockey. Ernie and Mick the Mountain are the sort of gruff, dim witted, salt of the earth types that you find littered throughout Chester's books. They are the kind of characters who, if this were on film, would have probably been played by Nosher Powell, Ivor Salter or Derek Deadman. Some might feel that Chester was indulging in patronising, working class caricatures here, but I sense genuine warmth and affection in his writing 'they might never win prizes for academic thinking, but they had a classic loyalty, and strange as it may seem there were some soft hearts among the tin ears and resin'.

Sweet Cyanide is a book of mixed messages when it comes to the role of women. On one hand, the Kristi storyline carries with it a sense of injustice at the preferential treatment of boys over girls, the key to Kristi's disturbed behaviour. On the other hand, Chester is contemptuous towards Brenda over her adultery and rejection of the traditional wife and mother roles. Not only does Brenda go out to work and refuses to act as a mother to Kristi, but she has also had herself 'fixed' so that she can't have any children with Tiny Tim. Leading randy toad J.W. Deakin to quip "that means you can have all the fun without any of the risks". To Brenda, sex is a bargaining tool, she largely cuts off Tiny Tim who has nothing to offer in return for her favours, while leading J.W on with the promise of sex, without ever actually putting out for him.
In Chester's book, hold girls back and you'll screw with their heads and cause them to hate their bodies, but let women out of the kitchen and they'll turn into adulterous, power hungry bitches. Ultimately, Sweet Cyanide is a book that is fighting a battle within itself over whether it wants to be a feminist book or an anti-feminist book.

Of course, Charlie Chester being Charlie Chester, his more unsavoury obsessions rise to the surface in Sweet Cyanide. While Chester is rather reserved and dispassionate when it comes to regular sex, his writing comes alive when Sweet Cyanide drifts in the direction of S&M and jailbait themes. Homosexuality threatens to unmask Kristi due to the other choirboys' bullying and sexual curiosity. The choirboys' beating and stripping of one of their own 'in their course juvenile way they would take turns to spit on his penis', gives Kristi both the shock of being exposed to male genitalia for the first time, and the fearful realisation that when her own number comes up, she'll have no penis for them to spit on. Kristi's identity is accidentally discovered by fellow choirboy Ginger Catlin, after a fight between them turns into a grope-a-thon "so little Chris Lowe has got tits like a girl" pervs Ginger. A Charlie Chester book isn't a safe place to be a schoolgirl, they are the subject of a woodlands rape in 'Bannerman', murder in 'Even the Rainbow's Bent' and sexual blackmail in 'Symphony & Psychopath'. Is it any wonder that Kristi wants to opt out of being one?

The torch that Chester carried for S&M predictably rears its head in the Brenda storyline. All but pimped out by J.W. Deakin to a rich and powerful man, Brenda agrees to throw some sex in the direction of one Arnold Laiker, after J.W tells her that Laiker can help advance both their careers. A man with a dirty mind, Laiker had speculated to J.W that Brenda might be a lesbian, only for J.W to jump to her defense "when it comes to sex, she takes some beating". A comment misunderstood by Laiker, leading him to think that Brenda is a severe masochist. The subsequent S&M encounter between the two does little to conceal Chester's own love of this subject matter. "Brenda cried out and tried to cover up, but whichever way she turned she received the leather". It's also the point in the book where Chester's writing is at its most entertainingly tabloidish 'Arnold Laiker wasn't just kinky, he was a bloody depraved monster. A lunatic'.

For all of his sleaze inclinations though, there is something a little out of time and old fashioned about Chester's books. The gangster and later police procedural aspects of Sweet Cyanide feel like a throwback to a second feature, British crime feature from the early 1960s, and when Chester turns the air blue, he tends to favour mild expletives like 'sod' and 'bloody'.

I wouldn't go as far to say Chester just wrote the same book over and over again, but after you've read a few of them, you do become aware that he stuck to a formula while knocking this stuff out for New English Library. Sweet Cyanide apes the structure of Symphony & Psychopath and Even the Rainbow's Bent, by initially being sympathetic to characters who are driven to murder, before turning against them in the second act when their actions trespass into more callous and reprehensible behaviour. At the outset of the book, Kristi isn't the Bad Seed/Midwich Cuckoo type killer kid that you'd quite expect. Instead she is a sensitive introvert and victim of sexual discrimination. Even her first murder -bashing a guy over the head with a metal pole while he's in the process of raping her- seems a quite justifiable act of self defence. Perhaps because of this, Chester's regular trick of turning the reader against his killer in the second act -Kristi tries to commit the 'perfect' murder and frame Brenda for it- doesn't quite come off here. Especially as even Chester himself doesn't seem particularly enamoured with Brenda, leaving the reader conflicted as to whether their allegiance should remain with Kristi or transfer to the never particularly likeable Brenda. It seems not even Chester has a heart of stone when it comes to Kristi. Whereas in Even the Rainbow's Bent, Chester signs off on a contemptuous note towards Adrian/Adrienne by refering to him as a 'warped creature' here his summing up of Kristi shows a much more compassionate side to him 'Sister Florence had tears in her eyes at the dejected little figure who obviously craved affection'.

Unfortunately Sweet Cyanide does follow the path of Symphony & Psychopath and Even the Rainbow's Bent by turning into a police proceederal for its last act. Chester once again sidelines all his main characters and hands the narrative reigns over to a generic police inspector - here called Jack Morley- who shows up to solve the crime and unmask the culprit. The last acts of Symphony & Psychopath and Even the Rainbow's Bent do drag those books down a few notches. After spending two thirds of the book following incredibly strange mixed up characters we suddenly have to wave goodbye to them and spend the remainder of the book waiting for a dullard of a police inspector to solve crimes we've already been privy to. However in Sweet Cyanide there is at least one part of the mystery that the reader is equally in the dark about. Namely the whereabouts of Tiny Tim who has disappeared en route to a horse race in Australia. As this point, Chester does manage to generate some suspense over whether Tiny Tim arrived in Oz safely or fell foul of the gangsters who were on his trail. It's also worth sticking around for the priceless, penny dropping moment when Inspector Morley puts it all together, which suggests Chester should have had a career writing clues for the gameshow 3-2-1. After his pal Detective Sergeant Ed Sayers remarks that choir-boy Chris Lowe deserves a 'dressing down' from 'Pa or Ma Lowe', Morley has his eureka moment. Pointing out that the opposite of dressing down is dressing up, Morley also tells Ed that if you take the 'Pa or' away from 'Pa or Ma Lowe', and bring the two remaining words together you get Ma Lowe, which could be pronounced Marlowe. Therefore Kristi Marlowe dressed up is Chris Lowe, at which point you half expect Ted Rogers to show up and tell Morley that he has just won Dusty Bin.

After teasing the reader over the fate of Tiny Tim, Chester does rather drop the ball at the end of Sweet Cyanide by forgetting to resolve this subplot, forever leaving us unsure over whether Tiny Tim is alive, dead or tiptoeing through the tulips. Given that the book ends with Kristi being lead away by kindly, concerned nun Sister Florence, it does feel like Chester missed a trick by not having Sister Florence turn out to be Tiny Tim, who'd taken a leaf out of his daughter's book by dragging up as a nun in order to rescue Kristi from police custody. Then again, after you're read a few of his books you do come to except sloppiness as part of the whole Charlie Chester experience. There's also evidence that the title Sweet Cyanide was an 11th hour brainwave by him, since Cyanide plays absolutely no part in the actual plot, and Chester clearly felt obliged to write a line that justified using that title "she may be sweet, but she sounds like Cyanide to me".
After the awfulness of 'Bannerman' I came close to throwing in the towel on Charlie Chester books, but I'm glad I stuck around for Sweet Cyanide, which has restored my faith in the comedian turned sleaze writer, and dare I say might actually be the dirty old bugger's best book.

 

Inseminoid (1981, Larry Miller)

 

I have a history with Larry Miller's novelization of the Norman J. Warren film Inseminoid that dates back to the 1980s, despite having only got round to reading the book in the last couple of years. As a child my family would regularly visit Pendlebury market (now long since demolished to make way for an Asda), a cheap and cheerful indoor market that had the obligatory second hand bookstall. I wasn't much of a reader back then, but being into the horror genre, I had a tendency to browse through the horror section, mainly just to look at the covers. For years this stall had a copy of the Inseminoid novel and I always remember that the back cover featured a still from the movie of a dead man on the floor with his stomach exposed. Which back then, I considered the most disgusting sight I'd ever laid eyes on. Even so, every time I was there I'd go through the horror books, knowing I'd encounter the dreaded Inseminoid and dare myself to look at the back cover in order to gross myself out. I know it's now fashionable to claim that growing up in the 1980s was a traumatizing experience, what with the threat of AIDS, the IRA, rabies and nuclear war, but to be honest all that went over my young head. The only things that unsettled me as a child was Margaret Thatcher, Judge Death and the back cover of Inseminoid. I suppose it gives an idea of how little value or little love there was for pulp horror back then if that copy of Inseminoid stayed put at that stall for years. Of course if I could live my life over I would have gotten into collecting books in the 1980s, knowing how much they are worth now. The online prices people are asking for the Inseminoid book these days would have probably bought you every book on that stall back then. Saying that if I had, it would have probably diverted me from collecting pre-cert videos, which were similarly going for next to nothing at Pendlebury market in the late 80s. I didn't actually catch up with the Inseminoid movie till 1992 when the Vipco label re-released on VHS and I have to admit to being pretty underwhelmed by it. Too little alien, too much of people running around caves, and a few seconds of someone cutting off their own ankle being the only memorable gore scene. Vipco had come back strongly during their second VHS incarnation in the 1990s, with the likes of The Deadly Spawn, Shogun Assassin and Zombie Flesh Eaters... against which Inseminoid felt like a disappointing, low energy experience. I have to say that Norman J Warren is one of those filmmakers whose work I find myself admiring rather than really enjoying. I like that Warren had to get up and go to make independent movies that pushed the boundaries and took away the safety net of the likes of Hammer and Amicus. Yet, his movies just tend to leave me cold, there is something impersonal and mechanical about Terror, Bloody New Year and Inseminoid. They all tend to suffer from having too many characters, none of whom ever leave much of an impression, meaning there's little emotional impact when they all predictably come to an unpleasant end. At best the likes of Terror and Bloody New Year achieve a kind of ghost train approach where you're shunted from one horror movie incident to another, yet rarely do you give a damn about a character in a Norman J. Warren film.

 

The Inseminoid book and the film roughly share the same premise...on a remote planet, a team of archaeologists excavate the ruins of an ancient alien civilization in the hope of learning about the origins of man. During the exploration, crew member Sandy is overpowered and artificially inseminated by an alien. Thereafter Sandy begins turning against her fellow archaeologists, brutally murdering them in an attempt to protect the twin fetuses growing inside her.

In book form Inseminoid feels accidentally ahead of it's time, and closer to what people expect from movie novelizations now. Back in the 1980s the name of the game for novelizations was to reproduce the movie as accurately as possible. Today, when movie novelizations appear they tend to be aimed at long time fans of these movies who don't need a blow by blow account of a plot they know like the back of their hand. Instead modern day movie novelizations tend to justify their existence by pursuing avenues that the source movies did not, offer an alternate spin on storylines or significantly adding something to them. This is what you get with the Inseminoid novelization, seeming on account of author Larry Miller being a man on a mission to up the sex and violence content of the film, and the fact that Miller was basing the book on an earlier draft of the film's screenplay, which was presumably penned with a much more ambitious, much more bigger budgeted production in mind. The script was written by special effects artist Nick Maley and his wife Gloria, as a showcase for what Maley was capable of when it came to F/X. However, I’m inclined to believe that we shouldn't take this book as an exact representation of the couple's script. Rumour is that Nick Maley isn't fond of the direction that the novelization went in, leading you to suspect that the pornographic content of the book was Miller's contribution. What's heartbreaking about this version of Inseminoid is that you get an idea of the special effects bonanza that the Maleys envisioned before the reality of low budget filmmaking brought Inseminoid crashing back down to earth. In the book we have a character having their ear, part of their arm and one of their eyeballs melt away, which the film forgoes in favour of simply killing the character off in an explosion. Then there is the discovery of hundreds of tablets containing alien hieroglyphics, which the film couldn't afford to visualize, the alien being discovered in a crystal like coffin, also beyond the film's budget, a character using a hi-tech laser to sever their foot, which the film had to substitute for them severing their leg with a chainsaw instead. Basically what we get here is a catalog of ideas that were too expensive to film, and Maley would have to wait till he became involved in big budget movies like Krull and Lifeforce to really prove what he was capable of.

 

I remember when Vipco put the film out on tape they hyped it as 'the Sci-fi bunk up of all time', as if it was Porkies meets Alien. It's a quote that doesn't really suit the film, the sex and nudity in it hardly plays out within a side-splitting context, and the 'Sci-fi bunk up of all time' is actually a more accurate description of the book. Miller hypersexualises the film's plot to the extent that it comes across like a porn parody of Inseminoid rather than an official adaptation of it. In the film there is a few seconds of Sandy and a male co-worker making out, other than that the archeologists are a fairly asexual bunch. However in the book we basically get Plato's Retreat in outer space. It seems in this version of the future, becoming an archeologist is the career to pursue if you want to get your end away. Just ask randy young buck Ricky "If he’d been asked why he’d become a space archaeologist, sex would have come first on the list, adventure second and scientific motivation a lowly third. But then no one asked". No woman it seems can resist having a wandering eye when it comes to hunky Ricky "even Sandy found herself admiring his bulging forearms and solid thighs. Not to mention a certain other bulging part of his anatomy. As much as she tried to be professional, she was still very much a woman." Sandy herself has an admirer in Karl, who we learn is "a sucker for fair-skinned blondes, especially ones with big breasts. And that was Sandy."

Miller's most memorable contribution to Inseminoid lore in the book is the invention of the 'sexual rotation scheme' whereby all of the archaeologists have to change sexual partners, seemingly every couple of weeks. The thinking there being that this will discourage emotional attachments between co-workers. However there is contradictory evidence in the book over how successful this enforced sexual activity actually is. At one point a character cites the effectiveness of the scheme by pointing out that crew member Kate was able to kill Ricky, who has gone nuts, despite Kate and Ricky having currently been in a sexual relationship. However in the same chapter we also learn that Barbra has fallen for Mitch, the sole black male among the archaeologists, and is delighted that they've currently been assigned each other as sexual partners. Which even leads Barbra to hope she'll have a baby with Mitch 'she was sure the baby would be a beautiful shade of golden brown'. They say that Sci-fi often speaks more about the time it was written in than the future it was predicting. A statement that rings true of Inseminoid, for all of the sexual content Miller brings to the book, there is an underlining conservatism to his contributions to Inseminoid. One that reflects a cultural kickback against the sexual excess of the 1970s, and scaremongers over a future where romantic, monogamous relationships will be a thing of the past and sex will become a meaningless, recreational activity. A thinking that obviously didn't see AIDS coming. Time has also proved that Miller lacked the foresight to predict the growing social acceptance of homosexually. The futuristic sexual rota scheme here only paring couples off into straight relationships, and with gay relationships still seen as illicit, career destroying and the love that dare not speak it's name. When Holly and Kate decide to break the rules by getting it on together, Holly fears that "she'd lose her commission" if their love affair is ever discovered. Given the book's inclination towards sleaze though, such concerns doesn't prevent her from muff-diving Kate, which Miller characteristically describes in explicit detail. Further examples of the Inseminoid novel being a reaction against the attitudes of the 1970s include Miller's seeming disapproval over the easy availability of contraception in outer space and the indifference characters have towards abortion. When Sandy discovers she's accidentally become pregnant, the news is indelicately broken to her with "bad luck, don't worry we'll abort it" to which she shrugs off with "I'm ready if you are". In this respect it does feel like the book and the film end up having a bit of a parting of the ways. Whereas in the film, Sandy's violence towards her crew mates feels very random and senseless, the book places greater emphasis on the fact that she is lashing out against the people who are trying to abort her babies. The jury is out on whether that is because the book can get more inside of Sandy's head than the film can, or whether it's evidence of Miller being of the pro-life persuasion. When you hear that the book has an interracial romance that isn't in the movie, and turns one of the characters into a lesbian, you'd be inclined to think that the book was the more socially progressive of the book and the movie, and you'd be totally incorrect.

The film version of Inseminoid was one of a number of films that were targeted by British women's groups over violence against women in movies, in the wake of the Yorkshire Ripper killings. However if you compare the book to the movie, you do find yourself thinking that the feminists were beating up the wrong guy by going after the movie. The book has far greater issues with women, especially women in the workplace and is constantly arguing that their gender renders them ineffectual. Either because they are either too preoccupied by the idea of having babies, as in the case of Barbra, too distracted by male bulges, as in the case of Sandy, or too emotional and closet lesbians, as in the case of Holly. These are concerns that Miller addresses through the character of sub-commander Mark, an inoffensive non-entity in the movie, but who in the book has this whole character arc evolving around his resentment over being passed over for the commander job in favour of a woman and is constantly being proved right by the incompetence of Holly. It is true that Holly is as useless in the movie as she is the book, but the movie doesn't make that great a deal about it, or has same kind of resentment issues that the book has. All of which comes to a head in the book when Mark has enough of being a hen-pecked man, tells Holly she is the "full of shit" and punches her in the stomach. An act that Miller clearly envisioned as a crowd pleaser designed to get the audience on Mark's side. I tend to think that was something which Norman J. Warren wouldn't have been comfortable bringing to the film. Despite the feminist backlash against the Inseminoid movie, and some unpleasant male violence against women in Satan's Slave, I don't get a woman hating vibe from Warren, he's remembered as an authentic nice guy and a gentleman. It's telling that no actress who ever worked for Warren has ever had a bad word to say about the experience, quite the contrary. Warren wasn't was of those exploitation directors who split opinion among actresses, unlike Jose Larrez, Pete Walker or Stanley Long where some actresses will now sing their praises while others have ended up regretting working for them. Admittedly there are moments in the book where it looks like Miller is coming to the defense of women whose attractiveness is preventing them from being taking seriously in the workplace, but Larry Miller as a second wave feminist doesn't exactly convince. "She was a knockout, long silky blond hair, soft white skin, firm breasts and a shapely ass, but hell, it wasn't her fault. Was she supposed to get fat so people would take her seriously". I'd have to question why Miller changed so much of the dialogue in the script, which based on the movie was unexceptional but serviceable, to the master class in flat, unnatural dialogue we get here. Re-reading the book hasn't left me with a new founded appreciation of Miller's writing, but it has left me intrigued about the man himself. Miller is something of the mystery man in the Inseminoid saga. If Larry Miller was a real name that would suggest he was a one book and he was done author. On the other hand Miller could have been a pen name for a New English Library hack. The two most likely candidates there then would be Leo Callan, who wrote a reportedly bare bones novelization of Piranha for NEL as well as a few slave plantation books for them, which would explain the Inseminoid novelization’s detour into inter-racial love and the dehumanizing, plantation like sex rota system. The other man in the frame is James Moffatt, notorious for his NEL skinhead books written under the name Richard Allen. Moffatt also wrote the novelization of Queen Kong for NEL and his relationship with the company was ignominiously winding down in the early 1980s. Inseminoid does tick a few Moffatt boxes, it has his strong stomach for violence and brutal sex, the conservative rants about contraception and women in the workplace, as well as his jaded, workman like attitude towards writing. Tantalizing as the idea is of the Mr. Nice of British horror having one of his film's novelized by the Mr. Nasty of NEL, the spanner in the works which makes me question whether this is a hitherto unknown Moffatt book is the relationship between Barbara and Mitch. Given that Moffatt was extremely racist, in both on and off the page, I'm finding it hard to believe that he'd voluntarily introduce an inter-racial romance to the novelization, a plot detour that feels so unlike him. The very aspect that puts Callan in the frame for writing this would seem to exclude Moffatt from being the author here. So, without any clear answer to this whodunnit, Larry Miller will have to remain a subject that provokes many questions and so little answers.

 

Where I'd jump to the defense of the Inseminoid movie is the continuous writing off of it as merely an Alien ripoff. Supposedly the script was mainly written prior to Alien being released, so at best I think you can only accuse the Maleys of trying to second guess what Alien would be like. On account of the foundations for Inseminoid having been cemented before the release of Alien, it doesn't follow the Ridley Scott movie as beat for beat as later, more blatant Alien copycats like Titan Find or Forbidden World. It's hard to imagine a movie that was intentionally chasing the Alien dollar would do something as radical as killing the alien off in the first act and then introducing a secondary, non-alien threat. In the hands of Larry Miller you sense that the book may have been a little more influenced by Alien than the movie, especially when it comes the Inseminoid's rape of Sandy. In the film this is subtly played out with a surreal 'is it or isn't it a dream' scene of Sandy being artificially impregnated by the creature under medical conditions. As there's no such word as subtle in the New English Library dictionary, in the book we get the creature raping her with it's two giant rod-like penises, playing out like an X-rated version of the Xenomorph's attack on Veronica Cartwright's character in Alien with it's phallic like tail. Miller also turns Inseminoid into a less original work by imitating The Exorcist in his depiction of the post-rape and now pregnant Sandy who is suddenly hurling insults at women and turning the air blue with dirty talk aimed at men. Whereas the film skips that part of her personality transformation and goes straight from her being normal to her being animalistic and aggressive...she is woman hear her roar. In that respect, the Inseminoid movie also belongs to a brief, very exclusive sub-genre of horror cinema whose message could be summed up as "women sure are high maintenance, especially when they give birth to disgusting, slimy things", other members of this club would include The Brood, Possession and possibly also Xtro. Upon rewatching it, I was also stuck by how much the movie anticipates the slasher genre that was just around the corner, even if it doesn't totally follow the rules for that genre by being set in space and by having the killer's identity and motivation known from the get go. The book also unintentionally flips the slasher genre on the head by making the victims rather than the killer the ones who are difficult to get rid of. Dean loses an ear, part of his arm and an eyeball, yet still survives that and gets cryogenically frozen in the hope they can put him back together on earth. Later on another victim of the Inseminoid has her intestines pulled out and her eyeballs extracted, but she also survives that and similarly gets put on ice. Space archaeologists sure are a resilient bunch.

 

The book followed closely on the heels of the movie, coming out in April 1981, a month after the movie's theatrical release, so NEL would have been courting an audience who'd enjoyed the film and wanted a keepsake of it. The film was issued as a VHS rental tape in November 1981, but wasn't available as a sell through release until late 1987, so there was this six year period where the novelization was pretty much the only way for your average person to permanently own Inseminoid. The book does feel like a school playground re-telling of the movie by a kid who wanted to increase his cool status among his classmates, whose parents wouldn't allow them to watch movies like this, by grossly exaggerating it's content. 'Oh yeah I watched this video, Inseminoid, and the alien in it had two big knobs and he pulled this woman's head off, stuck it's fingers in her eyes and used her head like a bowling ball, it was proper Video Nasty stuff'.

In recent years the status of a Video Nasty has been bestowed on the Inseminoid movie, but I have to cry historic revisionism here. I don't recall anyone throughout the 1980s and 90s ever considering Inseminoid a Video Nasty. Only in the last couple of years does it seem that the net of what constitutes a Video Nasty has been cast wide enough to include just about every video that was ever given a dirty look by a police officer. Such was the uncontroversial nature of Inseminoid that it was granted a fully uncut, 18 certificate video release in 1987, whereas the genuine Video Nasties tended to be out of UK video circulation for over a decade and then only returned to the shelves in heavily cut form. I'm sure it helps sell copies of old, semi forgotten films on physical media by labeling them former Video Nasties. Ultimately though I think such a description is a determent to the likes of Inseminoid, since it raises expectations that the film is going to struggle to live up to. Ironically the book is very much what someone going into the film expecting a banned, video nasty will imagine they are in for.

 

Having re-read the book recently and also re-watched the movie for the first time in many years, I have to say that for all it's 'issues' I found the book much more fun. It's not at all well written by any means, but you are getting a version of Inseminoid absolutely free of any budgetary or censorship concerns, offering up an idea of what the film could have been had it had a fortune to blow on the special effects and had a sexual deviant for a director. At one point Miller's writing takes Sandy to task for 'crossing over the fine demarcation into the area of bad taste', a case of the kettle calling the pot black if ever there was one. Some of Miller's writing does tiptoe into the area of unintentional comedy gold 'she could anticipate his emotional, sexual and professional needs. That's why it didn't bother her in the least that during sex, Mitch's mind might wander on to hieroglyphics'. Given how much that back cover has stuck in my mind over the years though, I shudder to imagine how badly this book would have messed me up if I'd actually read it in the eighties.

 

Plasmid (1980, various artists)

 
Plasmid began life as an intended movie, meant to have been produced and directed by sexploitation filmmaker Stanley Long, who was fresh off the success of his 'Adventures of a...' movie series. Both Plasmid and Brainstorm were announced to the press in January 1979 as upcoming Long projects. Neither materialised in movie form, but while nothing was heard of Brainstorm "a hypnotism thriller" again, Long managed to salvage something from the aborted Plasmid movie by having the screenplay turned into a horror paperback, published by Star Books in 1980.

Plasmid is set in the seaside town of Oakhaven 'the sunniest spot on the south coast' that as well as a holiday destination is also home to the Fairfield Institute of Genetic Research. It is there where experiments on convicted criminals go awry when one of the guinea pigs, called Barker, goes on a rampage at the Institute then escapes into the sewers. Transformed into an albino like creature with red eyes and pale skin, Barker sets about abducting other residents of Oakhaven, dragging them into the sewers and passing on his condition, thus creating an army of albino mutants. Hip, local radio sensation Paula Scott attempts to lift the lid on the story, only to come up against a cover up that reaches high up in the government.

The official line about the book is that its a novel by Robert Knight 'based on a screenplay by Jo Gannon', although the book's cover would give the false impression that Gannon rather than Knight was the author. Over the years however, a more complex picture of this book's authorship has emerged. In the early 1990s, David McGillivray, best known for writing movies for Pete Walker and Norman J Warren, revealed that he had a hand in writing the Plasmid screenplay, and cited it as the one screenplay of his that he wished had been filmed. McGillivray also told me that the Plasmid book sticks pretty close to his screenplay, indicating that Robert Knight's contributions to the novel were fairly minimal. I remember mentioning this to a close associate of Long, who flat out refused to believe that Long and McGillivray had ever worked together, due to the fact that Long apparently did not hold McGillivray in high regard. When word got back to Long that McGillivray's claims to have been involved in Plasmid was public knowledge, well... the shit done hit the fan. Within 48 hours, Plasmid had been removed from McGillivray's writing credits on Wikipedia, while Long's own Wiki page changed 'Long was due to film a David McGillivray script entitled Plasmid' to 'Long was due to film a Jo Gannon script entitled Plasmid'. Long's autobiography also erased McGillivray from the history of Plasmid, and attributes the screenplay entirely to Gannon, who had been the editor of Long's 'Adventures of...' movies. A second draft of the Plasmid script, credited to Gannon, still exists in the archives of The University of Liverpool. This is due to the fact that Long's first choice for turning the screenplay into a book was none other than Ramsey Campbell, who was sent a copy of the script but ultimately turned down the assignment, and the script ended up with the University of Liverpool as part of its Ramsey Campbell archive. Personally, I'm inclined to believe that the screenplay originated with Gannon but at some point McGillivray was brought on board. I tend to buy into the McGillivray version of events, on account of there being no glory to be had in claiming to have written Plasmid, we're not exactly talking Easy Rider here, the film was never even made and the book was never a big hit. Plasmid is also such an obscure project that surely only someone who had a hand in it would even know about it.
The problem with trying to decipher where Jo Gannon ends and David McGillivray begins when it comes to the writing here, is that while I'm reasonably au fait with McGillivray's work, I'm allot less so with Gannon, whose writing career has mainly been played out on American Television. Still, Gannon has clearly led a full and interesting life, which has included running light shows for Pink Floyd, working as a BBC editor, his time with Stanley Long and a ten year stint as an ambulance crew chief. Gannon also directed the 1970 documentary 'Getting It Straight in Notting Hill Gate' a look at the counterculture scene in the pre-gentrified, pre-Richard Curtis Notting Hill area.

The more you read Plasmid, the more you feel like it's material that would have been better suited to Pete Walker than Stanley Long. Admittedly it's sci-fi elements would have been a little outside of Walker's usual remit, Walker's horror films exclusively dealing with mentally disturbed individuals rather than monsters or the supernatural. However in all other respects Plasmid does feel very Walker-esque in it's cynical, distrust of authority figures as well as it's gender roles. Paula Scott being a plucky young lady who isn't afraid to get in the faces of older, establishment figures. While her boyfriend is your typical Walker ineffectual wet lettuce male character who "was too weak, too retiring to provide her with the kind of emotional feedback which she needed from a man". The fact that there are comparisons between Plasmid and the Walker horror films, does of course add weight to the belief that the Plasmid script did at one point come under to what Time Out magazine once referred to as "the withered pen of David McGillivray".

Long was no fan of the horror genre, but was aware of its commercial appeal. His distribution company, Alpha Films, having released many horror movie hits like Alligator, Rabid, The Brood, Dawn of the Dead and Basket Case. In book form, Plasmid comes across as Long's attempt to muscle in on the Cronenberg movies that Long had been releasing, especially Rabid, and cut out the middle man by making a Cronenberg type movie of his own.
The short horror films that Long made during this period...Do You Believe In Fairies, Dreamhouse and That's The Way To Do It...(later compiled into the anthology movie 'Screamtime'), suggest Long might have had a decent horror movie in him, despite his lack of affection for the genre. What I've always found notable about the 'Screamtime' shorts is how divorced they are from the sex comedies Long been making during most of the previous decade. Not only are they an asexual bunch of short films, but any humour there is of the unintentional variety, demonstrating that Long was able to shed his sex comedy skin with relative ease. Judging by the book, Plasmid wouldn't have been quite as divorced from the sex and comedy elements as those. The book pokes fun at the music biz at the time with a cameo appearance from a Sid Vicious type punk singer called Big Willy, whose latest single 'Pull It' has gotten banned by the BBC. While the radio station that the heroine works for fills the airways with the likes of Phone Me by Hot Box, Backseat Love, and tracks from the album 'You Make Me Feel So Jung' by Dr. Freud & The Analysts. Someone involved in the writing of the screenplay turned book, for they are many, also appears to have had a thing for corporal punishment. The elderly commissionaire who works at the radio station gets all flustered after being offered sexual favours by Big Willy's female fans in return for access to their hero, leading him to think that 'someone ought to introduce a bill to make spanking compulsory'. While even heroine Paula harbours flagellation fantasies about her male boss, telling a colleague "I think he's going to play headmaster to my naughty pupil" who then replies "tell him he can cane you, if you can spank him afterwards".

If McGillivray's account is correct, the film was two weeks away from being shot before the plug was pulled, so I assume Long had a cast in place, and it would be fascinating to know just who he had in mind for these characters. There's a comic relief 'stout lady cleaner' who works at the Institute and is desperate to get a look at the bloody results of the creature's rampage "come on, dear, let's have a peep" who cried out to have been played by Rita Webb. While a luckless, aging prostitute, who decides to knock off for the night 'and go to bed with a hot-water bottle instead of her usual sweaty, panting male' only to fall victim to the mutant albino has Liz Fraser written all over her. We can, of course though, only speculate. After all the Screamtime shorts avoided any kind of British sex comedy related casting, so it's possible that with Plasmid too, Long might have gone with people who didn't draw attention to Long's background in sexploitation.

It's not a bad book, but does betray it's movie script origins at times, with lots of basic descriptions of characters and their actions. Presumably a failing of Knight to flesh out the screenplay into book form. The 'Liz Fraser' character for instance, isn't even described or given a name, and we learn nothing about her other than she is a prostitute and owns a hot water bottle. All of which would have been fine for a movie script, where we'd see this person depicted on film and they'd only be around for a brief, shock scene, but in book form just comes across as a writer not pulling his weight. It's only way into the book that it bothers to pull that trick, so beloved by authors like James Herbert and Guy N Smith of providing elaborate backstories for newly introduced characters in the hope of duping the reader into thinking they need to be emotionally investing in these new faces...only to then have them fall victim to a horrible fate. Knight is said to have been a pen name of Christopher Evans, an author and scientific consultant to the TV programme The Tomorrow People, who died of cancer in October 1979. Meaning that this would have pretty much been a deathbed assignment, so his lack of enthusiasm for writing it is therefore understandable. Since Plasmid was originally written as a movie that needed to be passed by the British censor, it's also a little restrained in the sex and violence departments. Especially compared to what the likes of Herbert, Smith and Shaun Hutson were getting up to at roughly the same time, whose work was never shackled by such considerations. Gore wise, Plasmid blows its load early on, with detailed descriptions of Barker's rampage at the Institute "both his eyes had been gouged out, and the flesh had been shredded from his cheeks. The hypodermic jutted from the jugular vein in his neck, and his right leg was missing". Thereafter though its a relatively bloodless affair, with Barker's next victim succumbing to a heart attack, and others being dragged into the sewers. Only towards the end does it deliver any potentially censor troubling moments, such a car accident resulting in a metal pole going 'straight through the woman's mouth and out of the back of her head...removing forever her need for dental treatment'. Given the tone of the book, and Long's distaste for graphic violence in movies, I tend to think the Plasmid movie would have gone stronger on jump scares and offscreen kills than over the top blood and guts action. Something that would have put it at odds with the Fangoria mentality of the horror genre of the time, or indeed the horror films that were earning Long the big money as a distributor. In his autobiography, Long insinuates that the popular 2004 British horror film 'Creep' ripped off plot elements from Plasmid. I'd also throw in the 1984 American horror movie C.H.U.D as another film with a Plasmid type plot that offers an idea of what the book would have looked like onscreen. However, given that Plasmid was never published in America, and was long forgotten and over twenty years old by the time of Creep, I'd wager that the makers of both movies have probably never crossed paths with the book.

Had the movie been made, I tend to think it's reputation would have been similar to that of Screamtime. Never likely to be held up as an all time classic of the horror genre, but a source of some amusement and nostalgia to the VHS era generation. Strangely one of the reasons Long cited for abandoning the movie was the impracticality of filming in the London sewers, yet barely any of the novel actually takes place down in the sewers, and the few scenes that do are hardly crucial to the plot and could have been easily filmed around.

While it never made the grade as a movie though, Plasmid must walk away with the prize for the most British line you'll ever read in a 1980s pulp horror novel "Old Max served a generous bacon sandwich and brewed a good strong cup of tea, but the bugger was too mean to install a decent bog". To whoever wrote that line, I salute you.

Passion Killers (2007, Linda Regan)

I wasn't sure what to expect from a book by an actress best remembered for appearing in Hi-De-Hi, but I sure wasn't expecting it to read like something Shaun Hutson would write. Passion Killers shares the same fixation for the seedy side of 1980s Soho that you get from Hutson books like Chainsaw Terror and Captives. It concerns a bunch of strippers who fight back against their boss, stripclub owner Ahmed Abdullah, after discovering he's been filming himself having sex with them. Robbery turns to murder, when the strippers tie up Ahmed while trying to steal the sex tapes, only for him to choke to death on the G-string they gagged him with. 19 years later and the former strippers are not only being blackmailed by the current owner of the sex tapes, but are also being stalked by a killer who appears to be avenging Ahmed's death by leaving his victims with a G-string in their mouths. On the case is DCI Paul Banham, a man haunted by the brutal murder of his wife and daughter, to the extent that it has left him incapable of having sex 'the prospect of his colleagues knowing about his inadequacy in that department didn’t bear thinking about' and with an aversion to the sight of murdered females. A hang up that results in a memorable scene when Banham vomits all over a Soho sex shop, throwing up 'over the window displaying the crotchless knickers and fruit-flavoured condoms'. Fortunately Regan's writing throws him a romantic lifeline in the form of Katie Faye, one of the blackmailed former strippers who has since reinvented herself as a popular actress in a medical themed TV show, and views the sex tape as a stink bomb that could damage a mainstream career. Katie is a character who possibly warrants some autobiographical interpretation, Regan herself having appeared in the medical themed TV show General Hospital but prior to that had done her time in saucy, X-cert movies by the likes of Derek Ford and Norman Cohen. According to her Wikipedia page she was also the victim of an attempted abduction at knifepoint in 2005, an incident that is disturbingly replicated in Passion Killers. Further insights into Regan within these pages include a possible dislike of Cannon and Ball, the subject of a dig here, and we can safely assume she's more of a dog person than a cat one. The killer gets to chop a cat's head off at one point 'slicing the terrified animal’s head from its body and batting it though the air like a cricket ball'. While in her author's intro, Regan mentions that she and her actor husband Brian Murphy own a dog called Mildred, presumably named in honour of Murphy's sitcom George and Mildred, which is adorable. Well much more adorable than a cat's severed head being used like a cricket ball anyway.

Passion Killers certainly sees Regan cast off her goody two shoes Hi-De-Hi image, and go strong on the gore "Blood from the wounds in her head had slid down her forehead, congealing around a colony of maggots over the holes that once were eyes" and some of her more inspired dialogue includes "I thought it was quite funny, till he stuck a rubber penis up my back passage and called me Dusty Springfield". The book has the feel of a police drama series but spiced up with jolting, brutal murders commited by a black gloved killer, like an episode of The Bill with directorial interference from Dario Argento. There's maybe too much focus on the love lives of various police characters and too little giallo action towards the end of the book. Still I have to admit to enjoying Regan's unlikely career reinvention, and the discovery that she's written a bunch of these things, means that I'm sure to return to the unexpected rabbit hole that is Linda Regan, gorehound crime novelist.