Morb 3

'A Technicolour Kiwi Nightmare, I'm too afraid to emigrate now... thanks Morb.'

The best jokes are the sickest jokes. Pretend to disapprove all you want when the 'unfortunate' baby is dressed in a clown suit or something really inventive happens with Pinocchio's expanding nose but there is nothing better than knowing you really shouldn't be laughing at something but just can't help it. The thrill mixed in with the shock. The release of a tension breaking joke at a funeral.





Well, it wasn't Morb's funeral, it was its' third little picnic with bloodstained blankets and something rotten in the tupperware. As per, the select few were blindly led to a secret location (in this case, the lovely La Catedral Studios off Thomas St), frogmarched up the towering staircase and led through the corridors to the dark cavernous attic space lit only by the flickering, projected square of light.


'Having been to the first, highly unsettling but well worth it Morb, I was expecting more of the same. I was wrong! It was a completely different experience this time around. To begin with the attendees had doubled, which leads me to the conclusion that word is spreading. Secondly the venue was more comfortable and had a totally different ambiance. Finally the film it-self, whilst still horror, was a totally different sub-genre of horror, a kind of zom-com as Peter called it, was shows just how broad and varied the horror genre is.
What surprised me the most as I mentioned above was just how many people had turned up. There is obviously a gap in the market for this kind of event and I for one am glad to say I am a part of it. When you come home from morb, you feel as if you've achieved something along with having had a social outing (minus the falling home drunk at all hours). It really is the perfect mid-week escapism, albeit escapism into a world of blood, gore and creepy but hilarious zombie babies!!!! Long live the zombabies.'



One thing Morb is not is a one-trick pony. Yes, this pony may be pus filled, it may be short a leg and only have the strength to carry a half stuffed puke stained teddybear but it doesn't repeat itself. How to top the last witnessed atrocity? Must each film be successively more vicious and disturbing that eventually it must culminate in the actual death of an attendee to satisfy the now warped regulars?

I hope so!

I digress. Yes, people got their violence, their gore, their over the top disturbing sights but they got to do something else as well - laugh. When something is so extreme, when slime, gore, brains and vats and vats of blood flood the screen to such a scale, it actually becomes charming. Well to me anyway.

'Morb is revolting. In my favourite way.
It lends itself to the suspense and mystery of the horrific by being characteristically secretive as an entire experience.
It seduces my own attraction with the terrifying and unknown by tempting me with a lack of information. It plays with my curiosity. It's playing with me. And I like it. Being mindfucked has never been so appealing, especially within a group setting of fellow mindfuckers. I BELONG!'

Ok then, not just me.



'I've always had an unhealthy interest in lawnmower genocide. Seeing Braindead at Morb has given me the confidence to live the dream. I've bought a flymo now and there's no going back.'

All this talk of lawnmowers and zombabies, have you guessed what the film is yet? Maybe, the quote above actually naming the film, does that help?
Yes, Braindead, a wonderfully slimy addition to the Morb family. A constant stream of invention and constant streams of lumpier stuff too.


'LOVED the venue. I felt like puking for the first half and gauging my eyes out for the second. I'm off out the garage to check the lawnmower is working.'



Watching such lighthearted gorefests like Braindead fulfills different objectives, we get our gore and violence kick in a lighthearted manner which helps to desensitise us a teeny bit for the next Morb.
Or does it?

'What a treat to be able to step into a night of secrecy and suspense, escape from the mid-week mundane and revel in the excitement of Morb. I also can't stop talking about it, and am making people jealous.'

All in all, another enjoyable stroll in the fog but this time around The Ripper gave you a little tickle before he slit your throat. People had good laugh and also looked forward to Morb's return to it's dark roots.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared anyone for Morb 4.

Including me.


PUTRID DUNNE