Nothing you have ever experienced on this planet can prepare you for Backyard Bloodbaths, a compendium of DIY horror films (and some appropriate shorts) created by the mad scientists at Bleeding Skull. Sure, you've seen plenty of homemade genre films made by enterprising junior high students, social outcasts, and dogged aspiring artists from all over the place, but this one comprised of films that have remained almost entirely unseen until now is extra special and possibly hazardous to your mental health.

First up is 1987's Summer Horror Day (55m29s), a splattery, Nathan Schiff-esque Super 8 shocker directed by and starring a young Brit named Martin Nike. Featuring an adorable pounding Casio score, it's a very spare tale about some kids in a working class neighborhood who get stalked through the streets and the woods on the outskirts of Manchester by a guy in a skull mask. Guts get torn out, throats are slit, eyeballs get popped, and then the dead kids come back to life for a fresh round of stalking. The loosely-connected mayhem all has something to do with the opening scene of a cured book being discovered in a basement a la The Evil Dead and read aloud out of sheer summer vacation boredom, but that's about as much plot as you'll get here with the dialogue being minimal at best. Originally conceived as an anthology by Nike and friends (who were 16-17 at the time) and only patched together in the current millennium, it's an adorable gore fest and a fine appetizer to get things going. Nike also appears for a fun audio commentary with David Singer (who produced the final work we have now) chatting about the original idea, the creation of the gore effects (with shampoo playing a key part), and plenty more. The film itself looks great for a Super 8 amateur production, and thankfully optional English SDH subtitles are provided as the heavy accents would otherwise have you using the rewind button a lot.

Made ten years later in 1997, the VHS-shot 777 (74m43s) directed by Colin Anson is a serial killer film unlike any other as impressionable teenager Rob (Brian Harper), who keeps posters of Fargo and Videodrome on his bedroom wall, becomes obsessed with videotape rantings of a religious maniac named Ray Hineman. Taking the advice about salvation through sacrifice to heart, Rob murders his mom (played by a fellow high school freshman in a wig) and manages to squeak by a visit from a local cop who pees all over his bathroom. To the accompaniment of an incredible "found" soundtrack of lounge and soundtrack snippets, he pulls an Ed Gein on his mom and ups his killer ante as he finds out he isn't alone in his mania. Though not quite a gory as the previous film here, 777 heaps out plenty of gross-out moments but also has a weird, dreamy atmosphere that's pretty impressive given nobody involved had gotten to algebra yet. The "S-VHS master" used here doesn't look any better than a third generation VHS copy, but that's about as good as it'll get; the one extra here is a cast and crew commentary with low volume and everyone talking over each other, so good luck. It sounds like this was recorded in 2007 with participants including Harper and fellow actors Michael Treveloni and Dan Shapiro, but beyond that you're on your own.

Then we get to the main reason to snap up this set: 2016's Black Mamba (101m51s), the absolutely astounding brainchild of Pennsylvania-based director, writer, and star Belinda M. Wilson, who unleashes a DIY epic unlike anything else you've ever seen. If you survived the visions of Chester Turner, Ron and June Ormond, Neil Breen, and Final Flesh, you might be ready for this cracked anthology set in an alternate universe, green screen version of Crenshaw. That's the home turf of Black Mamba, a black magic practitioner who keeps jars filled with tormented souls in her quaint suburban house. Her services are sought by a variety of doomed souls including married Christian couple Abigail and Vincent eager to have a baby at any cost (leading to the greatest conception scene ever filmed), a feisty college student desperate to become more beautiful to nab a football quarterback, a man named Nathaniel obsessed with meeting some mermaids who haunted his childhood, and a woman who wants a love potion to upgrade from her garbage man boyfriend. The mermaid segment alone would make this essential viewing, but the entire barrage of green screen madness, psychotic plot twists, and frenetic acting ensures this is 100 minutes that will have your jaw on the floor all the way through. The digital production looks fine here and is the only one that you could readily find before this if you hunted really, really hard, thanks to its inclusion on Wilson's Vimeo on-demand channel. if this one is any indication, she's a major cult figure still waiting to be discovered. Wilson also turns up here for a great 3m11s video intro explaining how this was inspired by a mysterious family member... and no more will be spoiled here.

You also get three short films here starting with 1999's The Psychotic Odyssey of Richard Chase (6m7s), a colorful, Todd Haynes-style 16mm serial killer tale by Carey Burtt told via dolls and animation (with optional director commentary about the real-life inspiration that also inspired William Friedkin's Rampage and his intentions for this wild little gem). Then you get 2020's A.I. Mama (4m53s) by Asuka Lin, a nightmarish black-and-white cyberpunk vignette that also comes with her audio commentary joined by star and sound designer Kei. Finally the visually stunning Blood Bath: Tales of Eerie Publications (8m35s) from 2021 directed by Jason Willis (who also does commentary honors) brings to life a depiction of a fictitious cartoon show inspired by the legendary graphic publication, complete with a dense and highly impressive sound mix collaging some familiar elements if you're a pop culture junkie (or a Something Weird Video fan).

Reviewed on November 27, 2025