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Rigor Mortis Vol. 4, © April 2011

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Rigor Mortis #4
Mother, Jugs, and Peens:
Great Moments of Gratuitous (and Confusing) Nudity in Horror

We here at RM HQ are really just 13-year-olds who can drive cars and buy cigarettes. As proof of our unrelenting puberty we are now going to talk about genitals. That's right, a whole article devoted to jugs, willies, knockers, boners, melons, weeners, chesticles, peters, and nips. Collectively, we are able to evaluate the subject matter rather impartially. No, really. We know the difference between nudity as art and nudity as sloppy script filler. As a group we are male and female; gay, straight, bi, and tri; and like it vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. We have a gender trespasser who is the vegan lovechild of Xena and Quentin Crisp, a gay man who will happily play with a nice pair of knockers, someone who would do Godzilla with the right lighting, as well as an otherwise straight man who would be no more if Johnny Depp showed up on his doorstep. We've given it away and made people pay (one way or another). Some of us (Dread, perhaps) would fuck Clint Howard (but with your dick). Hell, Dread would do you for a pack of cigarettes. Make it two packs and gas money and he'll even leave you the key to the handcuffs and feed the cat on the way out. We've been there, done that, and got the t-shirt. That said, we are still geeks sitting at home on a Saturday night snickering about titties and johnsons, so make of that what you will. So grab your handi-wipes and let's get on with the show…

In CEMETERY MAN, observant viewers (Hell, even lazyass viewers) saw some of Rupert Everett's first surgical "enhancements" (and we don't mean his purported facelifts). Cemetery Man watchers get an eye-full of ol' Rupe's dangly, dingly balls of delight (well, that depends on who you ask). For the low cost of a rental you too can get, oooh, about four inches from it yourself.

For chicks who prefer dicks, lusting after the brooding, hunky actor was only fair; usually female Horror fans are visually assaulted by inexplicable boobs. Unfortunately, chicks still won't get a total break here since ol' Rupe tends to prefer burritos to tacos. But hey, it's horror and a zombie film no less, so Grrls gotsta take what they can, right? Junk is junk, no matter where ya put yer trunk.

Ask any ZOMBI 2 fan what the best scene is and, no doubt, they'll tell you, "Duuude, that zombie vs. shark scene is, like, totally awesome!" See, what they won't admit is the real reason they are watching is not because of some terribly choreographed "battle," but to watch Auretta Gay get ready for her big peril scene. Right before the famed fight, that perv Fulci lovingly framed and richly composed angles of Auretta Gay strapping on her scuba gear, clad in only a g-string, camera, and her ta-tas, She then dives in, swimming before the camera thrusting...her fins...blowing...lotsa bubbles...and opening herself up...to a lot of trouble. You get the idea. It's like soft porn, just with a zombie vs. shark framing device.

No longer will the curious wonder where exactly those scuba straps go when they disappear between the legs of a woman, for all has been answered. Now, we at RM agree that a fresh pair of jablonskies never hurt nobody and we're all for their loving (and semi-realistic) depiction onscreen. But let's call a duck a duck, and say that shark fight is only sloppy seconds to Auretta Gay gearing up at 0:31:33. Not that any of us actually checked the DVD, we just heard this was maybe where it was. Scuze me...we have a bad-assed shark fight to wank...err...watch.


Director Danny Boyle penetrated...deep...inside the insecure sensibilities of some fanboys when not only did he bust out with the running-and-they're-not-even-really-zombies to confound our Zed academics, but then bam, he took Str8t male fears of the willy-next-door to the next level. Yes, there was A WHOLE, NAKED ADULT MAN WITH HIS DING DONG OUT IN FULL PEENAGE VIEWAGE!!! OMG! Not just a quick flash, Hell, not even a pair of boobies to soften the 6" blow, but a WHOLE, NAKED MALE BODY FRONT AND CENTER.

Z connoisseurs who thought they were being all, like, daring and European watching CEMETERY MAN's wank attack went into Grand Mal seizures (requiring heavy metal therapy) when Boyle presented what amounted to BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN (well, without the horses and actual sex). It was a junk assault of an unprecedented scale. Not content with merely serving up La Tamale Murphy, Boyle made sure that the scenes of said protuberances were essential to the story so the poh thangs had to stare down that one-eyed monster. Oh, the humanity!


Remember when you were a little kid and your sister used to play with her Barbies and they'd be all like all nekkid and she was too little and uncoordinated to put their clothes back on? She'd still dance them around and put them in all kinds of acrobatic poses. You would think to yourself, "I wonder if a real woman looks like or could do that? Like a real woman with boobies and stuff?" Still not sure what stuff even was.

And you'd (remember this is about you) keep this dirty secret in your head until your friend Nikolas showed you "discreetly torn pages" from his dad's secret porno stash. The pages were crumpled in his pocket and the guys would gather all giggly until that old biddy teacher came to see what you heathens were up to. WHAT? This never happened to you? Uhm...me neither...we just uh...heard about these things.

See how distracting that damned stuff is?? Where were we? Okay, it is years later and some of you are still wondering what a real woman looks like. But no worries, peeps, Dan O'Bannon, director of Return of the Living Dead, put not only a nekkid chick in his film, but a real, grown woman with real grown woman breskies. Furthermore, he saw fit to pay homage to that Barbie look you swear holds no part in your early sexual development. Though come to think of it, she looks a lot like the Barbie your sister gave a haircut to and then colored on with her markers, but whatever, we'd be shaving...umm…splitting hairs at this point to fuss. So, Fanboys, put down yer Mountain Dew cans cuz we think ya'll need to stand at attention and give Mr. O'Bannon a hand (if you can spare one) for giving Horror cinema one of the more superfluous "anatomy" scenes around.

Think we're just being a meenie-weenies? Pretend that was a dude strolling through the fog looking like he just got back from Brazil. Better yet, imagine him dancing on that slab. Yep, thought so. Gratuitous cooch-meter has officially exploded and awaits replacement.


Now, first thing you should know is that we worship Ridley Scott's ALIEN. Coincidentally (or not), Dan O'Bannon was also part of that team, so there's our other flimsy excuse for including this. That said, we do hafta call attention to Scott's remarkable POV frame composition during the climax of the movie. You know the one – where we get to see Ripley squeeze into her spacesuit in her barely there panties. We're all down for saucy compositions, but considering the artisans involved in this film, you really wanna tell me that was the best angle they could shoot from?? The best angle that had shit to do with the rest of the movie. We guess in space no one can hear you masturbating in the bushes. Sure, with the ALIEN's tongue extension scene, we're supposed to get there's sexual-bestial-alienial-something happening, but most folks ain't looking for sub-text that deep. Was this supposed to prove that Jonesy wasn't the only kitty on board?


We've never understood why the male members of the audiences get their tighty-whities in a bunch when some dude goes tripod onscreen. Like, damn, ya'll do have one, right? You have seen it before??? It does look remotely like the one onscreen, right? And it won't, like, you know, jump off the screen and attack you. You know that, right? So what's the fuss?

Now, you want to have a real reason to squirm over wanton, nasty tubular man-things, we give you PLANET TERROR.

Remember the scene where ol' hottie Cherry peg leg is about to be "propositioned" by Tarantino's character? Director Rodriguez was even a nice guy and shot from behind so you "real" men could actually watch Tarantino's dripping, melty, oozy thingies in comfort. You weren't looking directly at a real nutsack dropping its wet, slopping chunks on the floor. No, it's a gooey, drippy, mutated nutsack shot from behind and that makes all the difference in the world. It was gratuitous, but sheer genius! Real men could watch and even say they loved the movie without worrying anyone would think they're Gay! WHEW! However, we're still a little too speechless to comment on the testicles-in-a-jar collecting angle. Believe whatcha want, but we do have a threshold.


Gotta love them liberated Europeans. They'll find any damned reason to flash some skin…like, say, strolling through a cannibalistic village. Words can be lost in translation, but the language of jablonskies is international. There's no need for scholarly analysis, no need for a storyline, cuz like a zap from a ray gun, one flash of ta-tas and Fanboys forgive things like plot holes, crappy editing, and bad dubbing. It's a curveball of epic proportions even the toughest critics have a hard time fighting. It's like titty Kryptonite. Oh, and the movie has zombies, but really, it is about the all-powerful jablonskies.


Since the film is meant to be all, like, serious we'll try to be nice . It'll be difficult because A) men are a scarcity when it comes to gratuitous displays on film, so any display is basically gratuitous (thanks Hollywood double standards!) and B) It's an apocalypse film with Viggo Mortensen, who we all know is an actor , so when he puts down his backpack and whips out his mansack, we gotta treat those moments like sacred cows. Even fanboys who would normally tremor at the mere hint of impending trouser snake stop and think, "But they're Viggo's nads. This must be art, so it must be safe to watch. Art won't make me gay, right?" (Actually, it will, but that is an article for another time.)

John Hillcoat, the director, somehow managed to talk Aragorn, we mean Viggo, to show some skin not once, but twice in what appears to be frigid water. Any dude will tell ya, frigid waters and his little me's don't mix. There's always a game of hide-and-seek that happens once somethin' a little chilly hits the little willy. But nooo...not ol' Viggo. Shot from behind on both occasions, in scenes that could've easily not been in the film, but whateverz, viewers get to see ol' Viggo sporting a pair of low hanging fruit. We now all know where exactly Viggo carries his manpurse.


PIRANHA (2010)
Sweet jesus this film is like the visual equivalent of state fair novelty foods. It is steeped in self-aware irony, childhood nostalgia, dipped in some kind of fat, sugar, and then more sugar, and yet we still shove it in our mouths with reckless abandon. And…it has so much wanton nudity that we don't even know where to start.

There are tits in just about every scene and even dialog about said tits. There are wet t-shirt contests, bikinis, and two of the main characters act like porn stars….wait for it…because they are porn stars. We sat down to watch this in our respective bunkers within a day of each another and, without the added help of telepathy, knew this film begged to be added to the gratuitous genitalia hall of fame. To the director, hats off, sir. We have never before seen a penis eaten and then regurgitated. Had to freeze frame that shit, we did. (For proof of this please see page 72.) Oh, and the scene where the victim is eaten by the piranhas and her implants float gently away in the currents…sheer poetry. It was like that plastic bag scene in American Beauty, only, like, deeper.

Lastly, your homage to the mermaids of Weeki Wachee was simply inspired. We had no idea mermaids had lesbian tendencies and were fans of Brazil. We did figure out your tricks – you hid the scuba tanks in their breasts, didn't you? Sure, sure, some members of the audience were fine with the suspension of disbelief that beautiful, horny chicks can indeed survive underwater by simply gyrating against one another, but really, they should have drowned after the first two minutes. But no, you stretched that scene out as far as you could, you naughty boy.

We kinda wanna go watch this again now…


So dear readers, here are three Pubic Service Announcements from the miscreants here at RM:
1) Bazookas, while wonderful things, do not excuse poor acting and abysmal story development.
2) Cinematic penises will not hurt you. However, that one in your hand right now will make you go blind.
3) Is Godzilla a top or bottom? Discuss. Defend your argument.

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