Coconutdaddy Productions

Let’s get this out of the way: I like Clint Howard. You like Clint Howard. Horror fans love Clint Howard. He’s the patron saint of “What the hell am I watching?” cinema — and Ice Cream Man is his Sistine Chapel of weird. It’s 1995. Blockbuster shelves are glowing blue. Direct‑to‑VHS horror is king. Full Moon Features is selling Puppet Master toys like they’re Beanie Babies. And someone, somewhere, said: “Let’s give Clint Howard two million dollars, a giant ice cream scoop, and a director who normally films porn. What could go wrong?” Everything. And nothing. And that’s why it’s perfect. 🍦 A Cast So Random It Feels Like a Fever Dream This movie has a cast that looks like someone spun a wheel labeled “People Who Happened To Be In Town That Week.” Clint Howard — our beloved, bug‑eyed ice cream slinger Olivia Hussey — yes, that Olivia Hussey, as good here as she was in Psycho IV Jan‑Michael Vincent — Airwolf himself, hiding his drinking better than the script hides ...

If you’re in the mood for a horror movie that feels like it was shot inside a haunted disco, financed by a guy who allegedly made his fortune through a shady gas‑tax scheme, and directed with the subtlety of a fog machine on steroids… then Mausoleum (1983) is your new best friend. This is one of those early‑’80s oddities that somehow manages to be a possession movie, a slasher, a giallo‑inspired fever dream, and a creature‑feature all at once — and that’s exactly why it rules. 🔥😄 Let’s start with the behind‑the‑scenes legend . Horror fans have whispered for years that the film’s financier was an alleged mob‑connected businessman who supposedly funneled money into the production after making a fortune through an alleged gas‑scam operation . Whether that’s true or just cult‑cinema mythology, it fits the vibe perfectly. Mausoleum feels like the kind of movie that could only exist because someone with “creative accounting” said, “Sure, let’s make a demon movie with glowing gree...