The full phantasmic splendor of Gruesome Nonsense Productions

A hallucinatory blend of grindhouse grit, giallo glam, and savage satire—crafted by Jackyll Ramone and projected straight from the crypt.
Brace yourself for visual audio stories that don’t just scream—they purr, sneer, and bleed.

Step into the shadow-cast world of Gruesome Nonsense Productions, where cinema mutates into something darker, stranger, and far more seductive. The brainchild of the incorrigible Jackyll Ramone, this is storytelling at its most unhinged, twisted photoplays brought to life with panicked stills, whispered dialogue, blood-slick soundscapes, and motion so subtle it creeps up on you. Not quite a movie. Not quite a comic. But every bit a visual curse.

It’s the language of cult film, giallo pulp, grindhouse rot, and supernatural melodrama, delivered with the high-sheen finish of vintage horror magazines once found behind bead curtains and under suspiciously heavy coffee tables. Think Fangoria meets Metal Hurlant, then left in a coffin overnight with Jess Franco and a bottle of vermouth.

In his latest masterpiece, A Glimpse of Today, Jackyll Ramone unleashes a savage satire soaked in blood and pixel dust—where one poor soul’s life is shattered by the merciless grip of modern technology. Brutal. Hilarious. Uncomfortably true. Beauty in the Vault of Doom throws a chained succubus, a pagan cult, and a rock band into the same room just to see what explodes. It’s sacrilege by spotlight, scored with guitar solos and ritual screams.

Then there’s Perverse Lucy, a mist-drenched gothic dirge filled with forbidden longing and ghostly shadows, part Poe, part Corman, all doomed romance. Black Gloves and Crimson Dolls slices deep into the giallo tradition, laced with espionage, noir intrigue, sleaze, and a suspicious number of dead redheads.

Six Brides for an Oblong Box drips with surreal dread, where superstition, seduction, and 70s psychotica blur into a half-remembered dream soaked in candle wax and crimson. And if the post-apocalypse didn’t seem cynical enough, The Offended Invaders sends a foul-mouthed alien emissary to teach humanity a lesson in humility… or face annihilation. Spoiler: we don’t fare well.

What Jackyll Ramone creates is no mere pastiche. It’s resurrection by obsession. Every tale is a relic reborn: textured, excessive, and unrepentantly weird. The visuals are lush and lurid, the tone veers from satire to sincerity and back again, and the overall feeling is one of discovering something you weren’t supposed to see but can’t unwatch.

So, if you like your horror with lipstick, leather, dead languages, and dirty laughs, come closer. The crypt is humming. The reel is spinning. And the screen is just about to bleed.

You’ll find links to all the fabulous stuff below.