Tracks Of The Damned

Before Boyle cleared out London, before Snyder tacked a mediocre remake onto a strong opening sequence, before Cronenberg went beyond the green door to ask for Marilyn Chamber's phone number, David Durston was there, making zombies who ran hella fast. Raconteur, TV writer, actor and possible gigantic liar (seriously, some of his life stories are wild), Durston was a cuddly madman who saw news footage of caged children foaming at the mouth and thought "that'd make for a fun movie, if only you could squeeze Charles Manson in there".   So it is on this episode of Tracks of the Damned, the horror film commentary track podcast, that we look at one of the gnarliest and most fun horror trash epics of the 1970's, I Drink Your Blood. But why is it that a movie about Satanist Murder Cult Real-Live-Chicken-Sacrificing Hippies Who Eat Tampered Meat Pies And Decapitate A Small Town's Worth of Upstate New York Bumpkins so much fun to us? Is it because we're sick weirdos or is it because seeing the lines of good taste cross