I Only Watch 18s Review Of The Year: 2015

So, here we are again. I posted a total of two articles on this website in 2015, and I think you’ll agree, that’s pretty fucking amazing work on my side. To fit writing two (admittedly fantastic) posts in between all the relentless shagging, fisting and drinking that I’ve done over the past year, is an achievement not seen since they built the fucking pyramids. And who gives a shit about pyramids anymore? I certainly don’t, unless their sides are cut off, they’re all laid in a row and then covered in chocolate.

A Toblerone. A Toblerone is what I’m talking about here. They look a bit like pyramids or something. I don’t know, I’m not thinking straight. That’s because I’m shagging right now. Well, ‘shagging’, anyway. And by that, I mean ‘wanking’. And by that, I mean ‘crying’.

Anyway, there were loads of great films released in 2015, and I saw a lot of them. And as I have done on this site in the past, I’m going to gift them some less-than-arbitrary awards that I’m sure those involved will be most happy about. You can see them now, dancing about their living rooms in pure joy – well, maybe you can’t, but I’ve got cameras set up in their houses, so I can.

Here are the awards:


Bone Tomahawk


Now, there were two 18 westerns starring Kurt Russell made in 2015, and one of them got all the glory. That’s because one of them was directed by Quentin Tarantino, and we all know how mental everybody goes when his name is mentioned. Naked in Waitrose at the deli counter mental, that’s how they go. The Hateful Eight was alright, but it was too long and there wasn’t enough action in it – if I wanted to watch eight people talking and keeping secrets from each other for three hours, then I’d actually attend my AA meetings.

The other western that was much, much better was Bone Tomahawk. Now, don’t get me wrong, there’s a hell of a lot of talking in this one, too, but there are two clear differences. One, they’re talking whilst walking, which makes things 100% more bearable, and two, what happens at the end is worth the longest wait in the world. Even longer than the wait you have to endure at the Tesco salad bar when all you want is the cheese cubes and pickled onions at the end.

Bone Tomahawk kicks off in such a big way in the last half an hour that it’s hard to believe. It needs to be witnessed by anyone with even a passing interest in genital trauma. Also, Kurt Russell is much more of a badass in this than he is in Eight.

Also, I noticed something else shit in The Hateful Eight: when one of the main characters* is killed, the squibs go off in the wrong order (or the shooter points the gun in the wrong order) and that is unforgivable – I thought Tarantino was a perfectionist.


The Human Centipede III


The Human Centipede is great, this is something children the world over can agree on. I am a child, and I agree with it. You are most likely a child if you are reading this website, and you agree with it. It’s a great film. However, the first sequel, not so much. This sequel, WAY not so much. It’s shit. Like, the kind of shit that’s been eaten and digested by about 500 people.

It’s not funny, it’s not scary, it’s incomprehensible, and the acting is atrocious. The whole meta thing that sort of worked in the second one is stretched to breaking point here, and it doesn’t work in the slightest – exactly like my penis when I’m trying to get something out of it but I’ve had 35 Jagerbombs in a row.

The only good bit is where Dieter Laser cuts out that bloke’s bollocks. And I only really liked that bit because I appreciated the special effects work, not because I actually enjoyed the scene – I actually grabbed my own bollocks because it looked so painful. Doing this was a blessing in disguise though because I realised that they were hanging out of my flies, and I didn’t want to get banned from another cinema on the way out. Lucky Bucky.


Keanu Reeves in Knock Knock


Knock Knock is not amazing – it’s fun, but it’s not a masterpiece. I enjoyed it, but trying to think back on it, I can’t remember much about it apart from the tits (like my 10th birthday party). The tits, and Keanu’s astonishing performance. I mean, jeepers, if you want to see Keanu come out of his shell, then this is the film for you – a man known for being wooden transforms into a fucking diamond in this. This is overreacting at its histrionic best. There’s a scene where he’s tied to a chair and he just fucking goes for it, he really goes for it. He’s screaming and shaking like a malfunctioning sybian. It’s mental, and it’s great. More of this please, Keanu.



Now, I had a little list drawn up here, and I whittled it down to three; they were Ali Cobrin in Girlhouse, Jessica Cook in Stung, and Lorenza Izzo in Knock Knock, The Green Inferno and The Stranger. Here’s my reasoning:

Ali Cobrin – Definite potential future scream queen material, here. She’s an amazing final girl in Girlhouse (fuck spoilers, you’re not gonna watch it are you?), and she needs to do more horror, stat. Also, I fancy her.

Jessica Cook – Stung was a right laugh, and she proves she can do comedy as well as action – she kicks arse like a homicidal beekeeper. Also, I fancy her.

Lorenza Izzo – She really flew the flag for the horror ladies last year – three solid horror flicks with three different performances across all spectrums. Her appearance in these horror flicks will probably be down to the fact that she’s married to Eli Roth, and he was involved in some way or another with each one, but that’s no matter. She’s great in all of them, and because of her high workrate last year, she’s gotta win this award that literally nobody wants or cares about. Also, I fancy her.


Tom Hardy Vs Tom Hardy – Legend


If you’ve ever met me, you’ll know that I like to talk about Jean Claude Van Damme a lot (chicks always dig this line of questioning when I bring it up in bars. They like it even more when I try to do the splits across the bar while my friend throws a knife at my dick). One of the reasons I dig him is that he’s played two parts in the same movie a number of times, and has also importantly, punched himself in the head in these very films. That’s a difficult thing to do – I mean, I know I punch myself in the head quite a lot (forgot to flush the toilet at work, again, IDIOT, etc), but that’s different. There’s only one of me, and two of him.

Tom Hardy came up against this struggle in Legend, which was a ‘quite good’ film about the Krays. Obviously, the Krays are twins, and so Hardy being Hardy, he decided he wanted to play them both (even though his impression of them isn’t actually that good, is it?). At one point, they fight each other in a club, and it’s very well done – Hardy punches himself in the head with the skill of someone who has forgotten to flush a thousand toilets at work. Good work, special effects team. Good work, Hardy.


Bone Tomahawk


I originally had The Green Inferno down as the winner in this category, for that ridiculously nasty first major death scene – jeez that was tough to watch. But then I saw Bone Tomahawk and witnessed quite possibly the most disgusting kill sequence I have ever seen. I won’t ruin it, but you can’t even think of a more disgusting and multi-layered way to go. In fact, the whole conclusion of this film is an insane gorefest. It’s wonderful.

Aaaand it made me grab my bollocks again, which was a great thing for the same reason mentioned above. I’m on thin ice at that cinema.


Nina Forever


I love a good sex scene, whether in real life or on-screen. Most of the ones I see are on-screen though, because I don’t see that many in real life. This is mainly because I always wear a sick pair of really dark sunglasses whenever I’m having sex – it makes me look super fly and also matches with my slicked-back hair and scarf.

If you didn’t catch Nina Forever last year, seek it out because it’s brilliant. It’s basically about this girl who gets a new boyfriend, quite recently after his ex had died. The relationship starts out ok, but then they finally have sex, and instead of him doing a wee in her belly button or whatever it is you do during sex, his still-dead ex-girlfriend climbs out of the bed and interrupts it. This subsequently happens every time they have sex.

If you’re not expecting it, it’s a real head-fuck, but it’s filmed in such a way to make it both terrifying, but also rather funny. The whole film skirts that line precariously throughout – it’s well good. It also rings true to my life, except when I have sex, it’s not my dead ex-girlfriend that jumps on the bed and ruins it, it’s the fucking cat.


The clown in Clown


I love a good body horror movie, and I love a good bad guy. This film combined both, and gave me exactly what I wanted, apart from a Google Chromecast, which I’m going to have to buy for myself now, which is a bit annoying. The film is about a bloke who fills in for a party clown that cancels on his son’s birthday, by using an old clown costume he finds in a weird chest somewhere. Only thing is, after the party, he can noooooo get the costume off. It all goes downhill really fucking fast from there.

This is a real old-school movie monster, and the effects are gristly and gooey – I can happily do with a franchise from this, if I’m honest. And I’m never honest. You won’t actually be able to tell if I’m being honest about being honest, in this case, sorry. I am though.


The Dagmers in We Are Still Here


We Are Still Here was pretty damn good, wasn’t it? Not much scares me nowadays (apart from earwigs, the cunts), but this one had me right on the edge of my bed (a bit like when there’s a girl in there with me – ESPECIALLY if it’s a girl earwig). It was pretty restrained for most of its running time, but then the big reveal at the end kicked up a gear. It gave us a new take on the whole vengeful ghost thing – these smoky bastards looked the part. But not only did they talk the talk, they walked the walked, too, with a lovely and mean-spirited range of despatch methods up their sleeve. It’s nice when a film does something a little different with an established trope, even if it’s just a slight change in the way something looks. That’s all that’s needed sometimes – just try a bit harder, everyone, ok?


I Spit On Your Grave III: Vengeance Is Mine


I could say Dude Bro Party Massacre III, because it was really good and I liked it, but it’s not actually a sequel, so I can’t really include it. So instead I’m going to go with I Spit On Your Grave III, because it was quite fun and I liked it. I Spit On Your Grave 2 was dogshit, as everyone with a degree in hound defecation knows, so it was a surprise that this one was any good at all. It’s most likely down to the fact that they brought back Sarah Butler from the first one. She’s great, but she’s not in enough stuff nowadays, which is a shame.

Either way, she’s back in this, and she puts a sodding great knife through some nextman’s dick and splits it the fuck in half, and there aren’t many people who can say they’ve done that. If they have, I suggest you sack them from their newly-appointed position as your urologist.

Also, I fancy her.



I don’t play fucking games, honey. I’m not a nerd, a dork, or a square. The only game I play is Guess How Many Matches On Tinder I’m Going To Get Oh As Per Usual It’s All Of Them Every Single One Of The Girls I Am Interested In Is Also Interested In Me What A Surprise Stop The Press Call The Grandkids Only Joking Of Course I Don’t Have Any Grandkids Because I Have Trained Myself To Withhold Sperm Except When I’m Showing Off To My Friends At Weddings.

I complete it on hard every time btw.



I do not have time to watch TV shows. I’m a frightfully busy man, and a film is the exact amount of time I have to spare. An hour and a half, not twenty fucking hours. Also, you invest so much time in a TV show and you don’t even know if it’ll get cancelled or not. At least when I’ve seen a film, I can say that I’ve ‘seen’ it. Nobody has ‘seen’ Game Of Thrones – you can’t tick it off because it’s not fucking finished. TV shows are only worth watching if they involve a big line of girls with buzzers, a lift and Paddy McGuinness.



I’d say it’s got to be a toss up between Howl and Let Us Prey. Both were alright, but both should never have been awarded the holy grail of movie certificates. However, I think Howl just edges it, because it was a werewolf film, and werewolf films have no excuse for not being 18s. They’re about giant wolves that eat people. Put an 18 on the front cover and that’s what I’m going to expect – I want gore and teeth and guts, not weak blood splatter and darkness. Major shame, because the wolves looked ace, and the setting was ripe for a siege of hairy proportions – it just fell short on the all-important 18-related material. So don’t bloody see this, is what I’m trying to tell you.

The BBFC need to stop slapping 18s on things willy nilly – if you put one on a film, you better mean it. That’s why I’ve got a big 18 sign on my bedroom door – if you go in you know you’re gonna see either bad language, sex, drugs or guts everywhere. Well, gut, singular, anyway. My gut, in particular. But that gut has been known to entrance many a female with its hypnotic wonders.

And by ‘entrance’, I mean repulse. And by ‘many a female’, I mean ‘me in the mirror’. And by ‘hypnotic wonder’, I mean ‘piss-filled belly button’.


So that’s that, another year, another two blog posts. I’ll try and update this site more frequently this year, but you and I both know that I am a pathological liar with a giant penis.


*Highlight between the following brackets if you want to know who I’m talking about [Bob]
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2 Responses to I Only Watch 18s Review Of The Year: 2015

  1. Ace says:

    Good to see a post in the new year! I must say your work rate of 2 posts per year is outstanding and I am in awe of your prolific posts. I can only ask that you pry yourself away from the large breasted women who so desire you long enough to bequeath a bit more of your wisdom to the humble masses, who, like me, have no idea what movies are worthy of we who aspire to the “Only 18” Lifestyle.

    We who are about to watch 18’s salute you!

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