"Who brings a dice purse to a demon apocalypse anyway?"

Over the past century or so, it seems if anybody sings a song that doesn't praise the Lord God High and Mighty, I get the credit. The blues was my music. Jazz was my music. Rock 'N' Roll was my music. Some dipshit even thinks I'm in charge of Beyonce.

But heavy metal? That one's true. It really is my music.

This week's Thursday Thriller is Deathgasm.

This 2015 splatter comedy by writer/director Jason Lei Howden hails from New Zealand. It's about a boy named Brodie (Milo Cawthorne) whose mom goes crazy and he has to move in with his uncle. The new kid in school, Brodie can't find any fellow headbangers to hang out with, so he winds up playing Dungeons & Dragons with a couple of dorks because they're the only ones who'll have him. Such a fate is hardly befitting Brodie because he has heavy metal daydreams, specifically about gusts of wind throwing his hair around as he stands shirtless atop a mountain shredding a guitar while naked women wrapped around his legs swoon.

Then one day he meets a thief named Zakk (James Blake) at the record store, they bond over studded leather and start a band with the dorks. Soon Zakk pressures Brodie into breaking into the home of one of their favorite musicians. For reasons I can't spoil, he gives them the sheet music to the Black Psalm, they play it and people start vomiting blood all over the place and turn into Evil Dead-style demons.

Or are they more like Lamberto Bava-style demons? Whatever they are, they're cool.

It's gory. It's silly. It's brutal, dude. Totally fuckin' metal. Deathgasm streams on Netflix.

This weekend only, mention Deathgasm at the ticket booth, and get $2 off your admission to The Devil's Attic.

"Are you ready to be one with the cosmos?"

You hear a lot about Turkey these days -- that they're a pivotal nation in the fight against ISIS, that it's capital was once called Constantinople, that Vlad Dracula used to impale people from there.

But have you ever seen a movie from there? Would you have guessed in a million years that the scariest movie of 2015 came from there?

Now I'm a busy devil, so to catch a new movie I have to wait for it to hit Netflix. I admit I haven't yet watched all the scary movies from 2015 yet, but I'm willing to call it today.

This week's Thursday Thriller is Baskin.

This dark fantasy by director Can Evrenol is a heavy-ass fever dream of sensual cruelty. It has a Clive Barker vibe to it.

It's about five cops who like to sit around a diner and recount their past sins -- the usual stuff, really -- gambling, bestiality, closing the deal with a transvestite prostitute. But Yavuz (Muharrem Bayrak) gets a little sensitive about the waiter overhearing that last part, and has to beat the waiter's ass to prove he's a man, while his partners in law-enforcement look on and laugh. Later in the van, to seal the bond of fraternity, they have a sing-along about what assholes they are. Then they get a call on the radio. Backup is needed in Inceagac. If you're unfamiliar with Turkish geography, Inceagac is apparently just across the Mediterranean from Bumfukt, Egypt.

Things get weird when they answer the call. The driver thinks he sees a naked guy running around, they run over somebody, there are frogs everywhere. When they arrive at the location, they find an empty squad car with the lights still flashing, and an abandoned building. Inside the building? Not a lot at first, but then they find a lone, catatonic officer banging his head against the wall, evidence of some bizarre sex ritual, and then there's people still participating in the ritual. Most of them still have all their limbs.

I don't want to spoil the third act, but suddenly they're in Hell, where the master Baba assists people in opening their heart to the universe by cutting out their eyes and forcing them to have sex. I know that sounds fun, but that's not how it plays in the movie.

Actor Mehmet Cerrahoglu steals the screen as Baba, a wiry muscular guy with a laughing Buddha sculpture on his face. I would call his makeup an outstanding achievement, but it turns out that's just Cerrahoglu's face. According to IMDb, he has a skin condition.

This isn't a movie you watch, so much as study. It's disorienting and hard to follow in places, but it's so weird, you'll probably want to watch it again. Even if you don't, it will definitely haunt you on Friday morning as you wonder, "What the hell did I watch last night?" I recommend you open your heart to Baskin. It streams on Netflix.

"Is it true what they say about this place? That someone tried to conjure the devil here once?"

The Devil's Attic opens this weekend. What's that all about? Well, I wrote a poem about it.

Since before the dawn of recorded time,
when humans first crawled from the slime,
I have harvested all the evil souls.

With punishments both harsh and strident,
I've poked and prodded them with my trident
and roasted them all over beds of burning coals.

But here I store my top selection,
the most wicked in all of my collection.
Into this, my attic, they're all crammed.

And on display in demonic glory,
they await to unleash their hellish fury
upon your heads, my hapless little lambs.

So step inside my house of horrors,
witness all the pain and sorrows, 
and feel the wrath and vengeance of the damned.

If that doesn't answer every question you might have, you'll just have to come see it. Now that's out of the way, let's get to this movie review. I found a really good one to set the mood for your forthcoming haunted house visit.

This week's Thursday Thriller is Darling.

This 2015 film by writer-director Mickey Keating is a minimalist, atmospheric showcase for the many expressions actress Lauren Ashley Carter puts her face through while her character Darling goes slowly insane.

Darling has agreed to house-sit the oldest home in town, and because it's the oldest home in town, it's obviously haunted by the ghosts of all the horrible tragedies that have happened there over the years. Homeowner Madame (Sean Young) informs Darling that the last caretaker committed suicide.

Exploring the house, Darling finds a locked room she doesn't have a key for. When she mentions it to Madame over the telephone, Madame tells her not to go in there. All alone in a big house, Darling starts to lose her mind, so she goes out and picks up a stranger to bring home and murder. She stabs him half to death, then puts a plastic bag over his head and suffocates the other half, or so she thinks.

But man oh man, the way she stabs that guy!

I don't want to give too much away, so let's stop talking about the story and get to how it looks. There is no clutter in this movie. The home is tidy and clean with a few modest antique furnishings. It's in black and white. Throw in some vintage costumes, and it all gives the film a timeless quality in its look. The photography is striking. If you cut a couple dozen frames out of this movie, they would hang well in a modern art exhibition. Some jarring, choppy editing here and there, along with a super creepy sound design, keep the hairs on the back of your neck raised. Take your Dilantin before watching, and keep a wooden spoon your mouth for good measure. Flashy-stroby effects figure heavily in this story's style.

Carter put in good performances in Lucky McKee's The Woman and Chad Crawford Kinkle's Jug Face, but those were ensemble pieces compared to Darling. With only a couple supporting characters, Carter has to carry this movie on her own, and she does it well. There are so many close-ups of her having so many mood swings, she practically tells the whole story with her face, with most of the workload resting on her gigantic eyes. Luckily, she has a pretty broad emotional palette and she shines in what's almost a solo performance.

All in all, Darling has some of the best photography, editing, sound, acting and stabbing I've seen in a horror movie in a while. It streams on Netflix.

"Make your face the last thing they see."

In an especially divisive election year, it's always heartwarming to find Americans of disparate political interests agreeing about something.

For example, being a feminist and an open-carry gun rights activist aren't mutually exclusive, but not many people fall in the center of that Venn diagram. Both groups have been expressing outrage over the recent release of rapist Brock Turner. The latter is having a lot more fun with it -- hanging around outside his house with their scariest guns and picket signs that ponder what their sentence would be if they drag him out and make him squeal like Ned Beatty. 

It just goes to show not all prisons have bars. In all my eternity as the Supreme Lord of the Underworld, I have not witnessed an empire ever so mighty as the United States of Fuck That Guy.

This week's Thursday Thriller is Final Girl. 

This 2015 action-thriller by director Tyler Shields is about a girl named Veronica (Abigail Breslin). When Veronica was about 6 years old a man named William (Wes Bentley) was impressed by her aptitude for maze puzzles and trained her to hunt serial killers because he's some kind of G-man or something and someone murdered his wife and child.

Twelve years later, William points Veronica toward her mark, four teenage boys in tuxedos. They are all poster children for affluenza. If you were scrolling through Facebook and saw any of their pictures you would immediately assume the accompanying article to be about how they got a light sentence for rape or intoxication manslaughter. They've been linked to the disappearance of at least a dozen girls, and it's up to Veronica alone to take them out. 

After meeting at the local greasy spoon, they drive Veronica out to the woods for a party, play a game of truth or dare, then break the news: they intend to kill her. They give her a sporting head start, Most Dangerous Game-style, and the hunt is afoot. 

What they don't know is that she has dosed them with DMT and sodium pentothal, so before long they're all tripping balls.

I can already hear some of you: "Hey Scratch, isn't some of that kind of similar to La Femme Nikita?" I wouldn't know. It's not on Netflix, and I'm not about to lose the hours to find out if the TV series is any good. Final Girl is on Netflix, and the third act is the best 20 minutes of action I've seen in over a month. 

Oh hey, by the way, The Devil's Attic opens next weekend.