Friday, December 31, 2010


Throughout the history of mankind certain symbols and sounds have become subconscious indicators ingrained in our manbrains to illicit certain responses or help us orient ourselves to situations and our surroundings. One of these sounds is the cry of hawk.

As time has shown us, when this screeching call rains down from the heavens above it can mean one, or a combination, of three things.

1. Extreme Physical Isolation.

If you find yourself on the edge of civilization the cry of the hawk will echo through the wasteland and into your mind. If it does not, there is still a Starbucks within 5 miles and you still time for Venti Frappe© before your journey into the unknown begins.

2. Life Threatening Challenge.

Face to face with death, in a contest between man and or beast, you have only yourself and your will to survive. The soundtrack to your struggle with mortality will be the beating of your heart and the banshee like scream of the hawk.

3. Mystical Experience.

You stumble out of the sweat lodge after 3 days of eating peyote. Reality as you knew it melts away, the great wolf spirit inhabits your mortal body, your mind's eye opens up to a rainbow world known only to ancient shamans, you see the white horse, you hear the cry of the hawk, your spirit is released into the river of souls and your return to the earth mother is complete.

Next time you hear the song of the hawk thunder down upon you will you rise to meet it's challenge? Will you clench your fist, grit your teeth, and prepare to fight for your life? Or will you scowl, mumble "goddamnit, not today", and walk back into your shitty studio apartment? The choice is yours.

Saturday, December 11, 2010


If you grew up in northern Europe you were probably a pretty nice kid. Not because you really wanted to be, or were innately a pleasant little lamb, but because if you were bad Krampus would come hit you with a birch branch, shove you in a bucket, possibly molest you, and carry you off with all the other little baddies. Where to? I don't know. Most likely some level of hell, a mass grave, or where ever GAP sweaters are made.

Krampus is Santa's horned sidekick who would dish out the medieval style street justice on those who misbehaved. This good cop/bad cop routine would hit the streets every December and wreak havoc on little towns.

So if you did not heed the ominous warning of "you'd better not cry, you'd better not pout", say your prayers because Santa is coming to town and bringing Krampus with him.

And don't think that just because you're 14 you're too old for Krampus to come crashing through your door in a holiday home invasion. The only differences are there is now a chance of pregnancy and Santa is going to watch.

As with most traditions in America, Yule time festivities have been watered down, pacified, re-packaged and sold to the masses as a consumerist feeding frenzy. St. Nicholas is now Santa, a drunk who works for Macy's, Black Peter just doesn't 'read' the same way in the states, and Krampus has been renamed Michael but essentially still acts in the same way.

Sunday, December 5, 2010




The soundtrack to this movie is so good it can also be the soundtrack to this review. Play the video and read on!

It is the future year of 1994.

Two men of action, Mike and Washington, infiltrate a building surrounded by armed guards.

Guided by a pulse-pounding synth-disco soundtrack the two are a veritable Yin and Yang of action as they punch and kick their way in to the building.

The mission is to extract an old man who might have gone along with the plan nicely but not risking any funny business he is drugged like a prom date

and dragged out of the house in a body bag Cobra Kai style.

They deliver the man to a mysterious figure referred to simply as "The Colonel" who pays them $50,000 for their kidnapping service.

The two take their earnings and hit the high seas in style on a quest to find the lost city of Margaritaville.

Little do they know they will not be listening to dad rock while they drinking rum out of coconuts on the beach with 14 year old island girls. No, fate has a different plan because close by there is an oil rig full of scientists who are researching an artifact found in the ocean by a sunken Russian nuclear submarine.

The mysterious origin of the skull stone has the nerdy scientists so baffled they call upon the largest unsolvable mystery to scientists in all of scientific history, a woman, to help decipher the writing on the stone.

The skull stone must be pretty awesome because not before long the ocean starts to violently stir, a tidal wave takes out the oil rig, and every Pure Moods listening, flowy garment wearing, crystal rubbing new-age spiritualist's wet dream rises to the surface.

The mythical island of Atlantis returns and with it it's people, a spikes and chains gang of road warrior psychos who are hell-bent on more than leather, they want the stone and they are going to turn all of humanity into their power-bottom to get it.

Their leader is a fearsome man named Crystal Skull who rolls with a spiked-out car and a harem of barely clothed apocalypse babes.

His Atlantean murder cult rip their way through town on a berzerk death spree.

Not only do they want their stone back, the Atlantean Interceptors also want to kill the human race who have been squatting on their planet for centuries. There is really no winning with these people so our hero Mike, his sidekick Washington, and the hot scientist fight for their lives in the charred remains of San Pedro.

During the bloody ordeal the group must survive a seemingly endless wave of hyper-violent wasters

strange Atlantean technology

and an asshole in a crystal skull helmet.

By the end of it there are exactly 29 explosions, 80 corpses, and 1 decapitation. Well worth the journey.

Unlike most movies reviewed on Film Buf, this one is actually really worth seeing. It's an Italian exploitation movie high on PCP. It's an orgy of all the genre cliches, shit-brained logic, gore, and violence you could want. A reminder that it's not you that's so crazy after all. There are Italian filmmakers, southeast Asian islands with no laws concerning ethical film-making, and their mouth-breathing, sweaty-faced target audience that are way crazier than you. From that unholy menage comes a movie like Raiders of Atlantis (also known as The Atlantis Interceptors) and is directed by Ruggero Deodato (of Cannibal Holocaust fame).

Get more obscure and hard to find Eurocult in your life.
Watch the trailer and download the torrent.