"A REALLY INTELLIGENT INTERVIEWER." -- Lance Henriksen
"QUITE SIMPLY, THE BEST HORROR-THEMED BLOG ON THE NET." -- Joe Maddrey, Nightmares in Red White & Blue

**Find The Vault of Horror on Facebook and Twitter, or download the new mobile app!**

**Check out my other blogs, Standard of the Day, Proof of a Benevolent God and Lots of Pulp!**


Showing posts with label Dead Alive. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dead Alive. Show all posts

Saturday, June 12, 2010

The Lucky 13: Week Four: Gore!


Although I may not be one of them, for many, the words "horror" and "gore" are just about synonymous. Let's face it--for many of us, it's why we got into the genre in the first place. There's nothing like some blood and guts to grab your attention, that's for sure; and ever since the demise of the Hays Code some 40+ years ago, horror fans have been treated to some of the most unthinkably grisly imagery imaginable.

This week in The Lucky 13, in conjunction with Brutal as Hell, we take a special look at our favorite splatter flicks--the movies that set the gorehound in us baying for more...

B-Sol on Dead Alive

The early '90s was a heady time for direct-to-VHS horror, with mom-and-pop video store new release racks filled to the brim with disposable frights, packaged in garish cardboard boxes. I can honestly say I might never have discovered Peter Jackson's Dead Alive back in 1992, had it not been for that striking box cover art, still among the most memorable I've ever seen. Of course, once I got the tape home, I quickly discovered that this movie was more than just a flashy cover. As I soaked in the cornucopia of deliciously over-the-top gore and literally laugh-out-loud humor, I found myself asking the question, how have I not heard of this movie??

The best way to describe it based on that first impression would be to say that if Monty Python had ever made a horror movie, this would be it. Off the top of my head, I'd have to call it the goriest flick ever made, and yet the gore is so outrageous that the movie somehow successfully remains a comedy right up to the end. The violence, as insanely graphic/imaginative as it is, is also firmly in the realm of the cartoonish. And quite frankly, I was eating up every erupting pustule, flesh-stripped skull and glistening digestive tract with a spoon.

Dead Alive is overflowing with more classic horror gags than you can shake a severed arm at. Who can forget the infamous graveyard priest vs. zombie kung fu melee? Or Baby Selwyn on the rampage in the park? And let's not forget, Jackson gave us zombie sex back when the guy who made Dance of the Dead was still begging his mommy to buy him Count Chocula at the supermarket. And just when you think the movie has gone completely insane, it takes you bravely into a whole new level of madcap insanity. Cap it all off with what has to be described as the single most bizarre, Freudian climax in movie history, and you have a film that fairly crackles with creative energy, showing the passion of its makers on the screen for all to see. I instantly fell in love with it, and made it the official movie I would use to completely freak out any of my friends who weren't used to horror movies.



From Beyond Depraved's Joe Monster on Aftermath

In this day and age of the horror film, gore seems to be used as more of a positive accommodation, a way to draw the bloodthirsty pre-teens into the theater seats. You can probably spot at least five DVDs at your local retail store that advertise the fact that they’re “COMPLETE AND UNCUT—ALL EXTREME SCENES INTACT!” or something along those lines. I can’t help but find this funny. Instead of shocking and repelling viewers, the gore in horror films is used as a marketing ploy to bring in more customers. One may ask “Is gore ever used to disturb audiences anymore in a horror film?” If you ever had the (dis?)pleasure of viewing Aftermath, you would be completely assured of gore’s damaging power.

Aftermath shows what happens behind the closed doors of an autopsy room when no one is looking. A demented medical examiner (portrayed with brilliance by Pep Tosar) lives out his twisted fantasies with a female victim of a car accident. He lovingly caresses her stiff skin with his gloved hands and gleefully cuts her clothes off. The imagination can fill in the gaps of what comes next. But that’s one of the factors that makes this film so brutal; it doesn’t let your imagination take over. Everything is played out with absolute clinical precision and detail. The camera never flinches as it depicts the horrid defilement of the corpse. It’s all carried out in such a mundane way that you begin to feel as if what you’re watching is completely normal. Tosar goes about setting up his camera, removing his pants, and applying lubricant to his gloves in a way that makes you realize that this isn’t the first of the character’s after-dark routines.

As for the red stuff, it is all too plentiful in this film. Within the span of 30 minutes, Aftermath packs in more gruesome set pieces than some of the “extreme” PG-13 flicks of today have in their entire running time. The very first thing we’re exposed to is the squashed carcass of a dog on a street. It only gets worse from there. Dissections of cadavers are performed with medical accuracy as skulls are ripped open with pliers and slimy organs are shoved inside ribcages. The examiner’s handling of his midnight partner is no better, especially seen in a squirm-inducing moment when he savagely uses a knife to penetrate the corpse. This isn’t delicate material, and director Nacho Cerda doesn’t spare us one agonizing moment.

But despite all the grue and viscera that assaults our eyes during the film, there’s an underlying feeling of beauty that permeates through the bloodsoaked images. The operatic score that accompanies the ghastly proceedings adds to the transcendental sensation. What we are exposed to may be horrible, but Cerda masters his use of stark, clear images and sound to create a work of art. In this way the audience begins to have conflicting feelings over the film. Is it a piece of beauty or nothing more than schlocky trash? In some ways it’s both, and can only be characterized as being beautifully disgusting. This is definitely the movie horror fans should watch if they’re looking for something to challenge both their stomachs and their minds.



365 Movie Reviews' Spencer Churchill on Guinea Pig: Flower of Flesh and Blood

The title alone arouses curiosity, and all that are willing to look will find the darker side of gore in the Guinea Pig films. Out of the series of seven doses of shock treatment, the second installment, Flower of Flesh and Blood, always captivated my attention. Flower of Flesh and Blood is dark and confrontational in an almost Mondo-esque way, with a pseudo-documentary approach. The foundation that the film is based on is that writer and director Hideshi Hino was contacted by a crazed fan, and sent a snuff film.

The film itself is not a full length feature, clocking in at a little over forty minutes, but is nevertheless very disturbing. The thing that stands out the most for me is the artistry behind the special effects. Since the vast majority of the film is set in the dingy, torture dungeon, I could not help becoming fascinated with the sheer brutal realness of the effects. If you find yourself becoming equally fascinated with the special effects, I highly recommend you look into the added "Making of" DVD that eventually proved their innocence against claims of snuff.

In my opinion, to an American viewer, this film contains a particularly horrifying element, namely the element of unfamiliarity. I have no idea how the Japanese people handle crimes or violence in general, so there is a great sense of unfamiliarity that haunts me the most. It is this added sense of fear that really puts this film above all other gore films in my book. Those who can stomach the visceral gauntlet that is Flower of Flesh and Blood will find that it is certainly worth its notoriety.



Cinema Suicide's Bryan White on The Story of Ricky

There are gory movies and then there is The Story of Ricky. In 1988, T.F. Mou's World WarII atrocity flick, The Men Behind The Sun, required the Hong Kong film industry to add a new category to its rating system. The hardest rating a movie could get at the time was Category IIB, which was a pretty hard R, but Men Behind The Sun was so incredibly hardcore that it required a new rating entirely. Category III came along and opened the door for producers to go off the reservation and come up with some of the most taboo-shattering movies the world has ever seen. Rapists and cannibals seemed to be the order of the day (and a healthy portion of explicit sex comedies) but in 1991, The Story of Ricky was released, adapted from a Japanese manga, and they added movies about guys punching people so hard their heads explode to that list.

Ricky is a prisoner in a near-future dystopia where the prisons have been privatized. He's in for killing the drug dealer responsible for the death of his girlfriend. The prison population lives in fear of the Warden's Gang of Four, four super powered criminals who eviscerate anyone who so much as look at them funny. As luck would have it, Ricky is also a super powered martial artist, and he's going to stand up to the Gang of Four and the evil Warden... mostly by punching holes in everyone.

The Story of Ricky isn't really a horror movie, but it has blood and guts out the wazoo. It's a stone-cold serious story about a guy in a corrupt prison setting and everything about it is played straight. The moment Ricky starts uppercutting people's jaws off, however, the movie takes a sharp left turn on its way to crazy town. The entire movie, start to finish, is a blur of bloody violence and the overall tone is akin to a Kool-Aid sugar rush. Talking about the violent highlights of the movie makes you sound crazy, or as though you're making it all up as you go along. Ricky punches a fat guy in one side of the stomach and his fist erupts through his stomach lining, resulting a flood of gore as everything falls out. Another scene involved Ricky being strangled by the intestines of a Gang of Four member who had just cut them out on his own. Tops of heads erupt from being hit, brains fall out, Ricky ties his own severed tendons back together with one hand and his teeth! Ricky punches a guy in the face so hard that the movie, in a tribute to Sonny Chiba's The Street Fighter, cuts to X-ray vision so we can see the skull cave under the force. Every gory and outrageous scene tops the last and the film's conclusion inspires peals of hysterical laughter when the Warden finally Hulks out and fights Ricky.

Not too put to fine a point on it, but I'm glad I live in a world where The Story of Ricky exists.



Fandomania's Paige MacGregor on Eden Lake

I can’t say that I chose to watch Eden Lake the first time because I’m a fan of the director or because the plot piqued my interest. In fact, I’d never heard of James Watkins and I decided to watch Eden Lake before I even read a plot synopsis. I can’t even credit my burgeoning interest in the academic side of the horror genre for turning me on to Eden Lake. The reason that I was so determined to watch this movie is both simple and embarrassing, and can be summed up in two words: Michael Fassbender. Little did I know how gruesome and disturbing my latest foray into the world of one of my favorite new actors would prove to be—nor did I expect that I was about to discover what has become one of my favorite horror films—when I popped the movie into my DVD player. In fact, by the end of the film’s 91-minute run-time I positively despised Eden Lake. It was only later, after reflecting on the profound effect the film had on me, that I realized how brilliant Eden Lake really is. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Although the violence and gore featured in Eden Lake initially turned me off, it is that very gory violence that made such a lasting impression on me and later made me realize how well crafted this movie is. It’s true that films like Eli Roth’s Hostel and Hostel II are exceedingly gory and arguably highlight violence for the sake of violence (although yes, an argument can be made that there is purpose behind the violence in those films—but that’s a conversation for another time), but many films of that nature lack a certain degree of authenticity, which Eden Lake possesses. The brutal depravity displayed by the adolescent antagonists in the film is both horrifying and at the same time disturbingly realistic, a fact that contributes to the polarizing nature of the film.

The horror genre has a long history of exploring the concept of children as dangerous or frightening, and Eden Lake takes this notion to a whole new level. Inevitably some viewers will dismiss the actions of the youths in Eden Lake as unrealistic, but in my opinion nothing could be farther from the truth. In fact, antisocial personality disorder (the clinical terminology for sociopaths) is diagnosed in individuals over the age of 18 based in large part due to their actions in childhood and early adolescence. In other words, just because viewers might not want to believe that kids are capable of willfully and purposefully slicing and dicing someone like Steve doesn’t mean that it can’t or won’t happen—and it does so much more frequently than you might think, too.

As a person with a profound interest in both psychology and film, Eden Lake satisfies my interests on multiple levels. Not only is the film entertaining for viewers looking for nothing more than some gore and a good, suspenseful chase, but it will also speak to individuals on an intellectual basis—if they’re open to it, that is. Aside from its previously mentioned characteristics, Eden Lake is an excellent example of the unspoken preoccupation with the penetration and mutilation of the human body so inherent in the horror movie genre, especially in the gore subcategory that we’re examining this week. When you consider what gory horror movies like Eden Lake would be without violent, gruesome, or brutal penetration of the human body, whether with a machete à la Jason Voorhees, an axe, or a utility knife like that used by Brett and his followers in Eden Lake, the only conclusion is that the sub-genre would cease to exist altogether.

In summary, Eden Lake might not be the goriest of gory horror movies, but it succeeds in hitting several of my hot buttons, and therefore earned its place as my favorite gory horror film—and after only one viewing, too! I highly recommend that every horror fan check it out.



* * * * * * * * * *

Head over to Brutal as Hell to see what Marc Patterson and his crew have come up with. And if you're interested in taking part in the future, just give Marc or myself a holler.

Week 1: Grindhouse & Exploitation
Week 2: Creature Features & Monster Movies
Week 3: Demons, Witches & The Devil

Join us next week, when we'll be yucking it up with our favorite horror comedies!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Retro Review: Dead Alive (a.k.a. Braindead)

Father MacGruder kicks ass for the Lord. That's really all I should need to say, but since I should probably fill a little more space, I'll go on.

The early '90s was a heady time for direct-to-VHS horror, with mom-and-pop video store new release racks filled to the brim with disposable frights, packaged in garish cardboard boxes. After a while, it became tough for any one flick to stand out from the rest. That's why I can honestly say I might never have discovered Peter Jackson's Dead Alive back in 1992, had it not been for that striking box cover art, still among the most memorable I've ever seen.

And I wasn't alone, either. Because unbeknownst to me, both my horror-lovin' dad and my then-girlfriend had also rented the movie, both drawn in by that box cover as well. See, folks? If you're a foreign filmmaker frustrated because your movie can't get an American theatrical release, just slap a bone-jarringly surral/gruesome image on the box, and the video rental profits will wipe your tears away.

Of course, once I got the tape home, I quickly discovered that this movie was more than just a flashy cover. As I soaked in the cornucopia of deliciously over-the-top gore and literally laugh-out-loud humor, I found myself asking the question, how have I not heard of this movie?? Because, you see, this was at the time when I was already started to consider myself quite the know-it-all when it came to horror movies, regaling my school friends with my arcane knowledge and oh-so-precious self-made lists of the best horror flicks of all time.

Well right here was one worthy of being up there among my top picks--and unlike almost all the rest of the films I revered at the time, this one was brand new! Because for anyone who remembers this period of horror history, there was kind of a dearth of anything worth describing as good. But Jackson's movie knocked my socks off.

The best way to describe it based on that first impression would be to say that if Monty Python had ever made a horror movie, this would be it. Off the top of my head, I'd have to call it the goriest flick ever made, and yet the gore is so outrageous that the movie somehow successfully remains a comedy right up to the end. The violence, as insanely graphic/imaginative as it is, is also firmly in the realm of the cartoonish. And quite frankly, I was eating up every erupting pustule, flesh-stripped skull and glistening digestive tract with a spoon.

The genius of Dead Alive is in the writing, thanks to a screenplay by Jackson, wife Fran Walsh and Stephen Sinclair. Jackson & Walsh would later collaborate on the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which was also excellently written, but in a completely different way, needless to say. In fact, it's often hard to reconcile that the same guy who made this flick and others like Bad Taste and Meet the Feebles is actually the mainstream auteur of LOTR and King Kong!

But I digress. Dead Alive, thanks to a brilliant screenplay, is overflowing with more classic horror gags than you can shake a severed arm at. Who can forget the infamous graveyard priest vs. zombie kung fu melee? Or Baby Selwyn on the rampage in the park? And let's not forget, Jackson gave us zombie sex back when the guy who made Dance of the Dead was still begging his mommy to buy him Count Chocula at the supermarket.

Just when you think the movie has gone completely insane, it takes you bravely into a whole new level of madcap insanity. And the whole thing is anchored by a razor-sharp comic performance from Timothy Balme (as the ultimate shlemeil Lionel Cosgrove) that would make Chaplin proud. And Elizabeth Moody, who would later appear briefly in Jackson's Heavenly Creatures (and also as Lobelia Sackville-Baggins in the extended DVD cut of The Fellowship of the Ring) is unceasingly entertaining as Lionel's clutching, petty, decaying, flesh-eating mother.

Cap it all off with what has to be described as the single most bizarre, Freudian climax in movie history, and you have a film that fairly crackles with creative energy, showing the passion of its makers on the screen for all to see. I know I instantly fell in love with it, adding it to my pretentious list, and also making it the official movie I would use to completely freak out any of my friends or my girlfriends' friends who weren't used to horror movies.

To paraphrase Lionel's sleazy Uncle Les, it's a bit of alright.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Time to Kick Ass for the Lord!

After months of anticipation, tonight is the night that the beautifully refurbished Avon Theatre (it's all about transposing the "r" and "e", people) here in Connecticut will be unspooling its pristine, brand-new 35mm print of Peter Jackson's Dead Alive. You can call it Braindead if you like, but I've been calling it Dead Alive ever since I first spotted that unforgettable direct-to-VHS box cover in the new release section of my local mom-and-pop video store some 15 years ago, back when such places existed.

I was astonished by the ingenious vision at work in the film then, as much as I was surprised that the movie was then almost completely unknown. In those pre-web days, I felt like I had discovered a great horror secret that wouldn't remain secret for long. Thankfully, the situation was remedied after a couple of years, and the rise of the internet has also helped make this flick into the cult classic it deserves to be. It's no surprise at all to me that Jackson has enjoyed the mainstream success he has since then. This movie is more brilliant than it has any right to be--indeed, I've always said that if Monty Python had ever made a horror movie, this would've been it.

Barring the unforeseen interjection of mature adult responsibility, yours truly will be on-hand personally tonight at 9PM to witness the glory of the Sumatran rat-monkey as it was meant to be witnessed. And best of all, the Avon is located in downton Stamford, right near my old job--meaning that if anyone wanted to drop by to assassinate me, it would be the perfect location, since the carpets are already red!

While I'm at it, I also wanted to mention that I'll be attending the venerable Chiller Theatre (there it is again) convention out in New Jersey this coming Sunday, should there be any Vault Dwellers planning to attend, as well. It's always a major blast. I'll be the guy trying to prevent his two little kids from being crushed to death by the maddening throngs.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Kicking Ass for the Lord: 40 Years of the Modern Zombie Movie, Part 3

Ironically, as the 1980s drew near an end and the popularity of horror movies began to wane from what it had been, the zombie subgenre briefly returned to its pre-modern voodoo roots with Wes Craven's The Serpent and the Rainbow (1987). The film was inspired by Haiti's vicious Duvalier dictatorship and the real-life investigator who travelled there to look into the long-standing rumors of zombification practices. Although it abandoned the modern, Romero-esque take on the walking dead, the atmospheric chiller became one of Craven's most critically acclaimed efforts.

Nevertheless, The Serpent and the Rainbow proved to be a brief aberration. The first heyday of zombie movies may have been over, but Romero's influence of the genre was here to stay. As proof of that, in 1990 Columbia Pictures got behind a remake of the seminal classic Night of the Living Dead, penned by George Romero and directed by makeup effects wiz Tom Savini. In part an attempt to cash in on the success of the original to an extent that Romero was unjustly prevented from doing the first time around, the new version was a mixed bag.

Romero was lauded for transforming his female lead Barbara from a traumatized wreck into a strong-willed heroine. The remake featured several interesting new interpretations, but many fans felt it was hamstrung by the large studio involvement and the need to fit within R-rating parameters, something none of the previous films had been required to do.

With the dearth of quality horror films in the 1990s came a dearth of memorable zombie flicks as well. Horror was moving more into the mainstream, resulting in safer, less graphically violent pictures--meaing there was less and less of a place for cinematic flesh-eating.

But there were exceptions, and chief among them came from the other side of the world--New Zealand, to be exact. Maverick filmmaker Peter Jackson, who had previously opened eyes with Bad Taste (1987), created in 1992 what is to this day still considered by many to be the most violent motion picture ever made: Braindead (a.k.a. Dead Alive).

One of the reasons Jackson was able to get away with it was the fact that his movie was a comedy, and thus the violence was so completely and cartoonishly over-the-top that it couldn't possibly be taken seriously--reanimated (and flatulent) digestive tracts, zombie copulation, an entire room of ghouls dispatched with a twirling lawnmower, etc. Braindead became an international cult sensation thanks to home video distribution, and gave the sub-genre a much-needed shot in the arm.

Other major entries of the period that distinctly stood out was 1993's Dellamorte Dellamore (a.k.a. Cemetery Man), an Italian effort that harkened back to the "spaghetti zombie" days of a decade earlier; and Return of the Living Dead 3 (1993), which turned out to be a surprisingly effective installment in an otherwise tired series thanks to a bold move away from comedy in favor of a more serious tone.

But aside from some refreshing exceptions, modern zombie films experienced perhaps the lowest point in their popularity during the 1990s. Ultra low-budget and shot-on-video productions dominated the niche as it went decidedly underground. Yet by the end of the decade and turn of the new century, just as down-and-dirty horror was experiencing a resurgence, so would the cinema of the living dead in particular. The second great zombie movie explosion was at hand.

To Be Continued...

Part 1: They're Coming to Get You
Part 2: No More Room in Hell

Sunday, March 2, 2008

From Post-Mortem to Postmodern: A History of Horror Movies, Part 6

It seemed like the horror genre had nowhere else to go after the blood-drenched, boundary-pushing 1970s and '80s. And in a way, that was true.The 1990s is remembered by many as a lowpoint in the history of scary movies. And while that's a slightly inaccurate generalization, the decade did suffer in some respects as a result of the excesses of the years that preceded it.

On the one hand, you had many of the deathless franchises of the 1980s lurching forward, series like Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street and Halloween churning out sequel after sequel, burning out the moviegoing public in the process. New slasher series like Child's Play, Leprechaun and Candyman, while offering some new ideas, also added more fuel to the fire.

In addition to that, a backlash occured. Beyond the genre, American moviemaking in general became more conservative, reacting to the unbridled violence and sex of the previous generation with more restraint and less gratuitousness. Criticisms of the business had begun to have an effect, and filmmakers had finally gotten over the fact they could do certain things they couldn't before. Now they were being more prudent about when and how often to do them.

Within horror, the gore factor was greatly reduced. Of course there were some exceptions--the most notable of which was a certain 1992 horror comedy by New Zealand director Peter Jackson called Brain Dead (or Dead Alive in America). That offbeat zombie flick ratcheted up the onscreen violence to ridiculously unheard of levels, but played it for laughs all the way. Perhaps that was the only way Jackson got away with it.

Ironically, once the splatter scene became old hat, Hollywood made something of a return to the grand guignol of a bygone era. Gothic horror made a brief comeback, and even the old monsters got taken out of mothballs for movies like Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992), Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (1994), Wolf (1994) and The Mummy (1999) (though the latter was reimagined as more of an action film.) Vampires in particular benefited from a "goth" movement that buoyed Anne Rice's series of novels to worlwide acclaim and led to a motion picture version of Interview with the Vampire starring mega-stars Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise.

The genre was lost in a way, heading in several different directions at once, unable to find its bearings. It was playing, after all, to an audience that felt as if it had seen it all. In hindsight, it seems only natural that the only thing to do under the circumstances was to deconstruct. For the first time, horror films became self-aware and self-reflective.

Just as he had been among the pioneers of the previous era, director Wes Craven led the pack again. Toying with the concept with 1994's New Nightmare, something of a coda to his Elm Street saga in which dream killer Freddy Krueger crosses over into the real world, Craven committed fully to self-aware horror with Scream (1996). A slasher flick in which all the characters seem to know about slasher flicks and all their cliches, the movie plays upon our expectations, injecting new life into a tired subject with a healthy dose of postmodern irony. Scream and its sequels, along with pics like I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997), led to an unlikely rebirth of the hack-and-slash subgenre.

After years of searching for a new identity, the horror genre benefited from the shot in the arm, and by the end of the decade seemed to be on the road to recovery. Yet it also seemed as if horror filmmakers everywhere had learned over the course of the 1990s that they didn't necessarily need buckets of guts to effectively generate terror.

Witness the types of films that led the renaissance in the late 1990s. In America, it was newcomer M. Night Shyamalan and his atmospheric, Oscar-nominated ghost story The Sixth Sense (1999). There was also the ground-breaking Blair Witch Project of the same year. Although the overdose of internet hype that accompanied the film may have sabotaged it to a certain degree, it was the ingenious decision to inspire fear through the hyper-realism of a so-called "mock-umentary" approach that makes the movie a landmark--and one of the biggest influences on the genre to this day.

Meanwhile, from overseas in Japan, a movement was spreading abroad that would have an even greater impact in America in the years to come. With Hideo Nakata's Ringu (1998) being the most well-known, Japanese horror would further reinvigorate the genre and open up new avenues to explore.

Horror had proven that it had a lot more life left in it. In fact, with the dawn of a new decade, it would soon become unimaginable that it had ever been in trouble in the first place. If the 1990s saw horror go into hiding, then the start of the 21st century saw it make up for lost time, exploding into the mainstream consciousness like never before.

Other major releases:


Part 1: The Silent Dead
Part 3: It Came from Hollywood
Part 5: Blood & Guts
Soon to come: Part 7 - Gore Goes Mainstream (a.k.a. The Final Chapter)
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...