The Schlock Pit is the home of film critics Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain who, for the past seven years, have parlayed their shared, lifelong obsession with horror, B-movies, and direct-to-video shenanigans into a writing career.
Currently, every spare moment of their waking lives is spent penning Schlock & Awe: 2,001 Forgotten Films of the ’90s Rental Realm, which is due for publication real soon. However, when they do break free from the sultry shackles of softcore Shannon Tweed flicks and PM action extravaganzas, they like nothing better than to chat straight-to-disc and made-for-cable creature features on their monthly podcast, Natural Selection.
They freelance for 88 Films and are continually hard at work on a whole host of projects that they’re sworn to secrecy over — though it’s definitely worth checking out their weighty booklets for the Collector’s Edition boxsets of Hollow Man 1+2 and the Anaconda Quadrilogy. Additionally, you can swoon to their dulcet tones on the audio commentaries for 88 Films’ top-notch discs of slasher classic Terror Train (1980); Van Damme favourites Replicant (2001), Legionnaire (1998) and Universal Soldier: The Return (1999); Gary Graver and Fred Olen Ray’s oddball ’80s shocker Moon in Scorpio (1987); and the much-maligned straight-to-DVD sequel, I’ll Always Know What You Did Last Summer (2006).
Recently, Matty and Dave have dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s on a guest essay for Troy Howarth’s book, Assault on the System: The Nonconformist Cinema of John Carpenter: a stunningly exhaustive text that was given the full JC seal of approval. And if you rewind a little bit, you can snag the Rondo-nominated It Came From the Video Aisle!: Inside Charles Band’s Full Moon Entertainment Studio: an excellent, doorstop-sized tome that features their meaty, interview-packed chapters on the Killjoy, Gingerdead Man, and Evil Bong franchises.
Matty and Dave have also edited the sadly now defunct Zombie Hamster dot com and are responsible for a host of written material for a bunch of sites and magazines they’d much prefer to forget about. But buy them a beer and they’ll happily dish all the dirt.