OK, so as you can see, it has been over a year since I last wrote on here, and I wish I could tell you that my absence is due to a rich benefactor leaving me with enough money to travel the world in a hot air balloon, or that I have been imprisoned in the Playboy Mansion, forced to satisfy the sexual whims of two score buxom women. Sadly, neither of those happen to be the case. I am merely lazy. I know, I know. Boring, but the truth. Anyway, now that I have confessed that particular sin, let's get to the topic I really want to discuss, and that is things that I loved as a kid, but now scare the absolute shit out of me.
Don't get me wrong. I was certainly not above being terrified of things as a kid. I feared the monster in the closet, every vegetable on my plate, and thanks to Mr. Tobe Hooper, anything remotely having to do with clowns. I had to hide my face when Mr. Jackson transformed into a hairy manbeast with glowing yellow eyes, only to later transform into a zombie. And while I love the Muppets, it took me quite a long time to be able to watch them without thinking of that disturbing scene from American Werewolf in London. Yes, while I was not allowed to see a boob on tv, my parents didn't worry too much that I saw something that included werewolves and decomposing smart-asses.
Somehow, however, a few things slipped past my terror-o-meter, and wedged themselves firmly among the things I loved, snuggling right up next to R2-D2, Winnie the Pooh, and Kwicky Koala. Only now, as an adult, have I been able to see them for what they truly are, horribly disturbing constructs distilled from a heroin addict's fever dream. Let's examine each of them, shall we?
First up is that crazy bitch that lived in the Neighborhood of Make Believe, Lady Elaine Fairchild. I guess when I was a kid, I was unfamiliar with the telltale marking of a wino - ruddy cheeks, soot-covered face, and a gravelly voice clearly the product of way too much tobacco and rubbing alcohol. And what the hell was with her nose? It looked like a small penis dipped in an ink well.
How did one find their way to this "neighborhood" where the wino called home? By riding on a handcart being pumped straight to hell, otherwise known as Trolley. The bell of Trolley, we were told, was meant to signify the passing between the realms of reality and make believe. In actuality, it was a notice to ne'er do wells that fresh meat had arrived in the neighborhood. Lady Elaine had to feed the monkey somehow. And being young and naive, how was one to notice that her brain had clearly been pickled by untold gallons of cheap box wine? I give you the following video as an example.
I'm sure if Fred Roger's death were to have been investigated more closely, this big-nosed lush surely had her cloth covered hands in on the deed. Perhaps she stabbed him in a drunken rage out behind the Neighborhood of Make Believe's equivalent of a Piggly Wiggly, or maybe he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and witnessed King Friday paying her hush money for his shady doings concerning the region of Northwood and their goats.* Whatever the case may be, any time there was trouble in the Neighborhood, you could bet that Lady Elaine was somehow involved.
Next up in my childhood house of horrors are the disturbing visages of giant puppets with soulless eyes that hung out with a dude who very likely moonlighted as a porn actor. The show was called The New Zoo Revue, and as you can see from the following video, whenever these puppets moved, their arms and legs were all akimbo, and their gaping maws flapped open and shut seemingly at random. How someone in a large hippo costume wearing a dress and staring back at me with vacant eyes didn't scare the shit out of me when I was a kid is beyond me. It certainly disturbs me now.
It's a little known fact that this show gave rise to the furry movement that currently makes other fetishes seem normal by comparison. OK, so I just made that up, but I can totally see that happening.
Finally we come to The Letter People. Here was a show about anthropomorphic letters, something that should be relatively harmless, right? Right? Um, no. Looking like H.P. Lovecraft had given birth to demented sock puppets, and then placed them on the hands of vagrants and crack whores, the Letter People are so terrifying that it's truly a wonder I learned any letter of the alphabet. Even more surprising is that this show didn't mold me into someone who boiled cats on a stove or wears their underwear over top of their pants. I leave it to the disembodied voice in the following video to explain to you to nuances of the show. Unfortunately I was unable to embed this video, so you'll have to navigate away for a moment to see it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGjG-nQaCe4
OK, so what the hell is up with Mr. N? What sort of dark room in someone's mind did he step out of? And Mr. T? It appears as if he has a human leg stuck between his front teeth. Clearly flossing is a problem for the dude. I can't believe that when I was in kindergarten I took my naps with 2' tall inflatable versions of these monsters. How these things didn't give me constant nightmares is beyond me.
So there you have it, three things that I used to love as a kid but now scare the shit out of me. They say we often look at the past through rose colored glasses, but in this case that red tint may simply be the blood spilled by a bunch of treacherous puppets, puppets that I used to love.
Transmission out.
*While I have never felt bad about the jokes I make on my blog, I felt it important this time to note that I am fully aware that Mr. Rogers died from the coward we call cancer, and that I do not intend these jokes to trivialize this disease or his remarkable life.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Monday, May 10, 2010
Tonight There's Gonna Be A Jailbreak
Star Slammer. Picking on this movie is like pushing a kid in a wheelchair down a flight of stairs. Funny but not particularly challenging. This movie is perhaps better known by its other title, Prison Ship, although I hesitate to use either the word "better" or "known" when discussing this film. Apparently it was shot in 1984 but sat on the shelf until 1988. Why they bothered at that point is one of life's little mysteries.
I won't bother to elucidate the plot. It's early on a Monday morning, and frankly, there's not much to say. Instead, I will offer a series of impressions that will either make you yearn to see this movie, or run for the hills. So here goes.
Shitty-Ass "Raiders' March" rip-off played over opening credits, which makes no sense, as the film takes place in space. Jewish Gandolf walking on a dirt path, followed by creepy Oompa Loompa types with saucepans for hats. One Oompa Loompa has beer cans tied to his coat. Security guard who looks like Edgar Winter. Lesbian overtones. Lesbian overtones. Cat fight (with sultry 80's saxophone music). Prison warden who appears to have been thrown out of a beat up van transporting bondage gear across state lines. Breast shot. Prisoner "breaking it down" with a harmonica while in isolation. Pet rat. Guy who looks like a fluorescent reject from a Clash cover band. Prisoners dressed like extras from Flashdance. Lesbian overtones. Knife fight. One-eyed security guard called "Muffin." Two hands cut off (separate people). Another breast shot (escapee feels the need to change before leaving prison). Tusken Raider security guards. Ghost of Jewish Gandolf. Lesbian overtones. Sloth's grandpa.
Here's one of the few clips I could find on youtube:
Is this movie worth watching? Well, if you bother to read my blog, chances are you enjoy these types of movies too. As far as bad movies go, this one is fairly enjoyable, although the lack of nudity is quite unusual for a film of this type. It's like hanging out with Willie Nelson and not getting a contact buzz. Despite this, it's ridiculous enough that I laughed out loud several times, and it's short enough that it doesn't overstay its welcome. I say check it out.
On a side note, I know it has been several months since my last post, and for that I apologize. I've been swamped by schoolwork, and have just now been able to come up for air. I will try to update this blog much more frequently, at least over the summer. Thanks for reading.
Transmission out.
I won't bother to elucidate the plot. It's early on a Monday morning, and frankly, there's not much to say. Instead, I will offer a series of impressions that will either make you yearn to see this movie, or run for the hills. So here goes.
Shitty-Ass "Raiders' March" rip-off played over opening credits, which makes no sense, as the film takes place in space. Jewish Gandolf walking on a dirt path, followed by creepy Oompa Loompa types with saucepans for hats. One Oompa Loompa has beer cans tied to his coat. Security guard who looks like Edgar Winter. Lesbian overtones. Lesbian overtones. Cat fight (with sultry 80's saxophone music). Prison warden who appears to have been thrown out of a beat up van transporting bondage gear across state lines. Breast shot. Prisoner "breaking it down" with a harmonica while in isolation. Pet rat. Guy who looks like a fluorescent reject from a Clash cover band. Prisoners dressed like extras from Flashdance. Lesbian overtones. Knife fight. One-eyed security guard called "Muffin." Two hands cut off (separate people). Another breast shot (escapee feels the need to change before leaving prison). Tusken Raider security guards. Ghost of Jewish Gandolf. Lesbian overtones. Sloth's grandpa.
Here's one of the few clips I could find on youtube:
Is this movie worth watching? Well, if you bother to read my blog, chances are you enjoy these types of movies too. As far as bad movies go, this one is fairly enjoyable, although the lack of nudity is quite unusual for a film of this type. It's like hanging out with Willie Nelson and not getting a contact buzz. Despite this, it's ridiculous enough that I laughed out loud several times, and it's short enough that it doesn't overstay its welcome. I say check it out.
On a side note, I know it has been several months since my last post, and for that I apologize. I've been swamped by schoolwork, and have just now been able to come up for air. I will try to update this blog much more frequently, at least over the summer. Thanks for reading.
Transmission out.
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Room Is On Fire And She's Fixing Her Hair
Some people say you get what you pay for, some say you get what you asked for, and still others say you get what you deserve. I'm not sure which category this particular scenario falls under, but at the end of the day I am happier as a result. I am referring to my viewing of The Room. A few weeks ago I stumbled upon an article which described this movie as the Citizen Kane of bad movies. Well, that's like telling a fat person there's chocolate in the next room, or yelling "Kool-Aid!" in the middle of a trailer park. It's was instantly irresistible. Oh, hi Mark.
I'll just say up front that I now consider this the worst movie ever made, but I loved every minute of it. This movie is bad in so many ways, it seems to invent movie conventions just to screw them up. Bad acting? Check. Mind numbing dialog? Check. Actors missing their marks? Check. Plot lines abandoned? Check. Inexplicable scenes? Check. Framed photo of a spoon? Check.
This movie is so bad that one is tempted to think it may be intentional, until you realize that several million dollars went into the making of this film, and that director/writer/producer/main star Tommy Wiseau is just as brain addled outside of the film as in it. You'd also be hard pressed to see where the money was spent, certainly not on professional actors. Maybe that football was autographed by someone famous.
So the plot, as it were, revolves around Tommy and his girlfriend/fiancee/wife(?) Lisa and their rocky relationship. Mark, Tommy's best friend, is sleeping with Lisa. There is also a teenage boy named Denny who apparently wants to watch Tommy and Lisa have sex, to which Tommy seems rather unconcerned. Speaking of sex scenes, there are a few of them sprinkled throughout, and they may very well be the most unerotic ever committed to film. Lisa is not attractive, and Tommy looks like Howard Stern crossbred with Arnold Schwarzenegger. There are also numerous disembodied moans that clearly do not come from either of them. Denny hiding in the closet perhaps?
Other characters include Lisa's mother, who informs her early in the movie that she has breast cancer, and then it's never mentioned again; Lisa's sister, who likes to have sex in Lisa's house rather than her own and who finds her sister's affair comical instead of hurtful; and Tommy's other friend Peter, who appears to be a psychologist or psychiatrist.
The movie is full of disjointed scenes that have no setup or payoff, and make little sense even within themselves. The scene where Mark, Tommy, Denny, and Peter toss a football around in tuxedos immediately spring to mind. Are they getting ready for Tommy's wedding? Who knows, as it is left unexplained. Why are they only standing three feet apart whilst tossing the ole pigskin? When asked that question in an interview, Wiseau said that was not a goof and that everyone should try it. Another scene involves Denny and a drug dealer. There is no indication beforehand that Denny is in any kind of trouble, and no mention of these events afterward either. The scene does introduce the gun that will come into play at the end, and it gives us this wonderful bit of dialog: Denny: I owe him some money. Lisa: What kind of money? Denny: I owe him some money. Lisa: What kind of money? There is also the "Oh, hi Mark," scene, which has no setup whatsoever, but is pure hilarity:
At some point in the movie Tommy goes to buy some flowers for Lisa, as he is still unaware of her fornicating with Mark, and to the fact that she is a straight up bitch. No worries though, because we are about to see what happens when two actors speed read their lines and throw coherency out the window:
Eventually Tommy gets wise to Lisa and Mark's canoodling, or does he. This all depends on which scene you are watching. He seems to figure it out when he sees the two of them making out at his party, and we get this fantastic scene full of pathos:
Later on though, he feels the need to hook up a tape recorder to the phone to record their conversations. Hitting the record button and leaving it running, it still manages to capture a conversation hours later. So many things inexplicable about this: Just how long is a cassette tape? Why does it not record any other phone conversations? Does a normal cassette player have the ability to be hooked up to a phone? It is all proven moot anyway as he can clearly hear the conversation taking place behind a thin bathroom door.
I'll not spoil the ending for you. Suffice to say it certainly left me wanting more. I hope Wiseau makes another movie of the same caliber someday, although he will be hard pressed to top this one. In many ways, this is his Citizen Kane. He hit one out of the park, as it were, on his first try. It may be all downhill for him from here on.
Transmission out.
I'll just say up front that I now consider this the worst movie ever made, but I loved every minute of it. This movie is bad in so many ways, it seems to invent movie conventions just to screw them up. Bad acting? Check. Mind numbing dialog? Check. Actors missing their marks? Check. Plot lines abandoned? Check. Inexplicable scenes? Check. Framed photo of a spoon? Check.
This movie is so bad that one is tempted to think it may be intentional, until you realize that several million dollars went into the making of this film, and that director/writer/producer/main star Tommy Wiseau is just as brain addled outside of the film as in it. You'd also be hard pressed to see where the money was spent, certainly not on professional actors. Maybe that football was autographed by someone famous.
So the plot, as it were, revolves around Tommy and his girlfriend/fiancee/wife(?) Lisa and their rocky relationship. Mark, Tommy's best friend, is sleeping with Lisa. There is also a teenage boy named Denny who apparently wants to watch Tommy and Lisa have sex, to which Tommy seems rather unconcerned. Speaking of sex scenes, there are a few of them sprinkled throughout, and they may very well be the most unerotic ever committed to film. Lisa is not attractive, and Tommy looks like Howard Stern crossbred with Arnold Schwarzenegger. There are also numerous disembodied moans that clearly do not come from either of them. Denny hiding in the closet perhaps?
Other characters include Lisa's mother, who informs her early in the movie that she has breast cancer, and then it's never mentioned again; Lisa's sister, who likes to have sex in Lisa's house rather than her own and who finds her sister's affair comical instead of hurtful; and Tommy's other friend Peter, who appears to be a psychologist or psychiatrist.
The movie is full of disjointed scenes that have no setup or payoff, and make little sense even within themselves. The scene where Mark, Tommy, Denny, and Peter toss a football around in tuxedos immediately spring to mind. Are they getting ready for Tommy's wedding? Who knows, as it is left unexplained. Why are they only standing three feet apart whilst tossing the ole pigskin? When asked that question in an interview, Wiseau said that was not a goof and that everyone should try it. Another scene involves Denny and a drug dealer. There is no indication beforehand that Denny is in any kind of trouble, and no mention of these events afterward either. The scene does introduce the gun that will come into play at the end, and it gives us this wonderful bit of dialog: Denny: I owe him some money. Lisa: What kind of money? Denny: I owe him some money. Lisa: What kind of money? There is also the "Oh, hi Mark," scene, which has no setup whatsoever, but is pure hilarity:
At some point in the movie Tommy goes to buy some flowers for Lisa, as he is still unaware of her fornicating with Mark, and to the fact that she is a straight up bitch. No worries though, because we are about to see what happens when two actors speed read their lines and throw coherency out the window:
Eventually Tommy gets wise to Lisa and Mark's canoodling, or does he. This all depends on which scene you are watching. He seems to figure it out when he sees the two of them making out at his party, and we get this fantastic scene full of pathos:
Later on though, he feels the need to hook up a tape recorder to the phone to record their conversations. Hitting the record button and leaving it running, it still manages to capture a conversation hours later. So many things inexplicable about this: Just how long is a cassette tape? Why does it not record any other phone conversations? Does a normal cassette player have the ability to be hooked up to a phone? It is all proven moot anyway as he can clearly hear the conversation taking place behind a thin bathroom door.
I'll not spoil the ending for you. Suffice to say it certainly left me wanting more. I hope Wiseau makes another movie of the same caliber someday, although he will be hard pressed to top this one. In many ways, this is his Citizen Kane. He hit one out of the park, as it were, on his first try. It may be all downhill for him from here on.
Transmission out.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Stupid is as Stupid Does
So I just watched Ernest Scared Stupid, and this should tell you a couple of things. One, I must really love to watch bad movies. Two, I clearly lead an exciting life. The movie itself is one out of close to five thousand Ernest movies cranked out by Jim Varney during the 1980s and 1990s. I admit that I enjoyed his commercials for Mellow Yellow back in the day, but when it comes to his movies, lets just say a little Ernest goes a long way. I will preface this review by stating that kids under eight may enjoy this movie, or those who may not be playing with a full deck. As an adult however, the movie is subpar. Its not really bad enough to consistently laugh at, and certainly not good enough to really enjoy. Although where you fall in this range will depend greatly on your tolerance for Varney's rubber faced antics.
Once again we have a troll popping up to menace a small community of morons (see my earlier reviews of Troll and Troll 2). It seems this troll was trapped in the root system of a tree a hundred years ago or so by one of Ernest's ascendants after it tried to eat some kids or some shit like that. Ironically, but not surprisingly, Ernest himself is prophesied to be the one to release the troll. This happens when Ernest helps three kids build a tree house in the very tree the troll is under. They clearly don't notice or care that the tree looks like a giant hand coming out of the ground, or that the entire area is covered with scary movie ankle fog. My Mom always told me that tree houses were gateways to the netherworld, but until I saw this movie I had no reason to believe her. I expect a call from her at any moment with an "I told you so."
So the troll is released, and Ernest finds out from a creepy old woman who lives nearby that it must capture five children by Halloween night in order for it to unleash its army of trolls. This old woman is played by Eartha Kitt, who once upon a time played Catwoman. You'd have to look pretty hard to see how that ever happened, what with her eyebrows looking like a pair of Yosemite Sam's upper lip. Anyway, Ernest is on the case, which means of course that five children are captured and turned into small wooden statues in short order. The troll itself looks like Billy Barty from the Masters of the Universe movie, if he had face herpies and was constantly being tea bagged.
After roughly an hour and ten minutes of screen time, the adult morons in the community finally realize that Ernest has been telling the truth about the troll running amoke in their podunk town. They promptly follow him out to the tree to kill the troll, but wouldn't you know it, they are too late to stop the army of short people wearing badly designed rubber masks. Luckily the kid morons have figured out that the trolls' one weakness is milk. Once again we see lactose intolerance tip the scales in an interspecies war. Soon all but the head troll have been destroyed. He has slipped back under the ground to plead with the demons to make him invincible. Do trolls have a soul to sell? I'll ask my ugly-ass cousin the next time I run into her. Anyway, why the troll didn't do this to begin with is left unexplained, and too much of my brain has already been put to use writing this review to investigate further. So it emerges from the ground, and when he gets squirted with milk (I'll hold off on the porn jokes at this time), we get this wonderful piece of dialog, "I've grown too strong for that. Not even milk can stop me now."
Suddenly, Ernest is reminded of another part of the prophesy that the troll can only be killed with unconditional love. So the climax of the film is Ernest hugging the troll. That's what kills it. A hug. A fucking hug. Could someone explain to me how that is unconditional love, hugging something knowing that by doing it you're going to reduce it to a pile of green glop that looks like hospital food? Anyway, Ernest saves that day, and all the adult morons love on their kid morons, and everyone forgets that it was Ernest who set the damn thing free to begin with. He's like Gilligan, but without the island or a potentially gay, fat man bossing him around. Here's the climax of the movie, if you'd like to save yourself the hour and a half.
Transmission out.
Once again we have a troll popping up to menace a small community of morons (see my earlier reviews of Troll and Troll 2). It seems this troll was trapped in the root system of a tree a hundred years ago or so by one of Ernest's ascendants after it tried to eat some kids or some shit like that. Ironically, but not surprisingly, Ernest himself is prophesied to be the one to release the troll. This happens when Ernest helps three kids build a tree house in the very tree the troll is under. They clearly don't notice or care that the tree looks like a giant hand coming out of the ground, or that the entire area is covered with scary movie ankle fog. My Mom always told me that tree houses were gateways to the netherworld, but until I saw this movie I had no reason to believe her. I expect a call from her at any moment with an "I told you so."
So the troll is released, and Ernest finds out from a creepy old woman who lives nearby that it must capture five children by Halloween night in order for it to unleash its army of trolls. This old woman is played by Eartha Kitt, who once upon a time played Catwoman. You'd have to look pretty hard to see how that ever happened, what with her eyebrows looking like a pair of Yosemite Sam's upper lip. Anyway, Ernest is on the case, which means of course that five children are captured and turned into small wooden statues in short order. The troll itself looks like Billy Barty from the Masters of the Universe movie, if he had face herpies and was constantly being tea bagged.
After roughly an hour and ten minutes of screen time, the adult morons in the community finally realize that Ernest has been telling the truth about the troll running amoke in their podunk town. They promptly follow him out to the tree to kill the troll, but wouldn't you know it, they are too late to stop the army of short people wearing badly designed rubber masks. Luckily the kid morons have figured out that the trolls' one weakness is milk. Once again we see lactose intolerance tip the scales in an interspecies war. Soon all but the head troll have been destroyed. He has slipped back under the ground to plead with the demons to make him invincible. Do trolls have a soul to sell? I'll ask my ugly-ass cousin the next time I run into her. Anyway, why the troll didn't do this to begin with is left unexplained, and too much of my brain has already been put to use writing this review to investigate further. So it emerges from the ground, and when he gets squirted with milk (I'll hold off on the porn jokes at this time), we get this wonderful piece of dialog, "I've grown too strong for that. Not even milk can stop me now."
Suddenly, Ernest is reminded of another part of the prophesy that the troll can only be killed with unconditional love. So the climax of the film is Ernest hugging the troll. That's what kills it. A hug. A fucking hug. Could someone explain to me how that is unconditional love, hugging something knowing that by doing it you're going to reduce it to a pile of green glop that looks like hospital food? Anyway, Ernest saves that day, and all the adult morons love on their kid morons, and everyone forgets that it was Ernest who set the damn thing free to begin with. He's like Gilligan, but without the island or a potentially gay, fat man bossing him around. Here's the climax of the movie, if you'd like to save yourself the hour and a half.
Transmission out.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Happy F#@king Life Day
OK, so it has been awhile since my last post. I've been pretty busy lately and updating this blog has sort of been put on the backburner. Also, most of the movies I've watched recently have been pretty good, with the exception of the atrocious Transformers 2. A brief rundown of that movie, before I move on to the main course. A transformer with big ears, a gold tooth, and urban dialect, John Turturro's worst acting since the last Transformers movie, inane "comedy," convoluted plot with holes big enough to drive Optimus Prime through, and a transformer with balls. That's right, balls. Yet these things pale in comparison to the simmering pile of shit that was the Star Wars Holiday Special. This is what I will talk you through today.
It is a testament to the popularity of Star Wars following its release that a holiday special was conceived and aired a full year after it initially hit theaters. This would likely not happen today, given the very short turnaround of films from theaters to home video. This was a movie that had posters hung up in theaters still showing the movie a year later with a photo of a birthday cake and 1 candle atop it, surrounded by Star Wars action figures. I would go so far to say that this will never happen again. Yet the biggest testament to Star Wars' popularity was the fact that people still went to see The Empire Strikes Back after the Holiday Special aired. Surely people thought George Lucas had gone off his nut after witnessing what is easily the worst two hours of television ever broadcast.
The "special," and I use that word in the loosest possible sense, opens with Han Solo and Chewbacca evading a couple of Star Destroyers, as Han is attempting to get Chewie to his family on Kashyyk for "Life Day," sort of the wookiee equivalent of Christmas. Enjoy this moment, for it is all downhill for the next two hours. Not even Harrison Ford can make this stuff bearable.
Most of the time is devoted to the home of Chewbacca, where we are introduced to his wife, his son, and his father. Chewbacca's dad is pretty damn creepy looking, particularly when it appears he is on the verge of pleasuring himself while watching a holographic performance of Donna Summer singing. I told you it was bad. Art Carney plays a shop keeper sympathetic to the wookies' predicament, as their planet is under Imperial rule. His acting here is so rank that it would run a junkie out of a crack house. His main function to the plot seems to be to merely provide others with holographic chips containing "performances" from the likes of Summer, Jefferson Starship, and some weird-ass ballet troupe. Each of these is worse than the last.
Harvey Korman pops up, as a fembot teaching people how to cook on television. He also appears in the sequence with Bea Arthur, who runs a cantina. You heard me. When she breaks into song, a little part of you will die. It is almost enough to ruin the actual cantina scene from Star Wars. In fact, I'll have to watch the cantina scene again just to make sure. Hopefully I won't be looking in the background for someone who looks like Bea Arthur.
People who have seen this "special" often point out that it's best part is the 10 minute or so cartoon in the middle, featuring the first appearance of Boba Fett. Don't be taken in by such shenanigans. Aside from getting to see Boba Fett a full year and a half before his appearance in Empire, this cartoon is just as big of a turd as the rest of it. The animation is perhaps the worst I have ever seen, and the story is nonsense.
Just as the "special" is wrapping up, and you think the worst is behind you, it pushes that prison shank just a little bit deeper into your flesh, as Carrie Fisher begins to sing. Carrie Fisher should never, ever, ever sing. Ever.
If this review is not enough to keep you away, I have a word of advice. Make sure you and your friends watch this together, as you will not want to have to endure it more than once. Remember, there is safety in numbers.
Transmission out.
It is a testament to the popularity of Star Wars following its release that a holiday special was conceived and aired a full year after it initially hit theaters. This would likely not happen today, given the very short turnaround of films from theaters to home video. This was a movie that had posters hung up in theaters still showing the movie a year later with a photo of a birthday cake and 1 candle atop it, surrounded by Star Wars action figures. I would go so far to say that this will never happen again. Yet the biggest testament to Star Wars' popularity was the fact that people still went to see The Empire Strikes Back after the Holiday Special aired. Surely people thought George Lucas had gone off his nut after witnessing what is easily the worst two hours of television ever broadcast.
The "special," and I use that word in the loosest possible sense, opens with Han Solo and Chewbacca evading a couple of Star Destroyers, as Han is attempting to get Chewie to his family on Kashyyk for "Life Day," sort of the wookiee equivalent of Christmas. Enjoy this moment, for it is all downhill for the next two hours. Not even Harrison Ford can make this stuff bearable.
Most of the time is devoted to the home of Chewbacca, where we are introduced to his wife, his son, and his father. Chewbacca's dad is pretty damn creepy looking, particularly when it appears he is on the verge of pleasuring himself while watching a holographic performance of Donna Summer singing. I told you it was bad. Art Carney plays a shop keeper sympathetic to the wookies' predicament, as their planet is under Imperial rule. His acting here is so rank that it would run a junkie out of a crack house. His main function to the plot seems to be to merely provide others with holographic chips containing "performances" from the likes of Summer, Jefferson Starship, and some weird-ass ballet troupe. Each of these is worse than the last.
Harvey Korman pops up, as a fembot teaching people how to cook on television. He also appears in the sequence with Bea Arthur, who runs a cantina. You heard me. When she breaks into song, a little part of you will die. It is almost enough to ruin the actual cantina scene from Star Wars. In fact, I'll have to watch the cantina scene again just to make sure. Hopefully I won't be looking in the background for someone who looks like Bea Arthur.
People who have seen this "special" often point out that it's best part is the 10 minute or so cartoon in the middle, featuring the first appearance of Boba Fett. Don't be taken in by such shenanigans. Aside from getting to see Boba Fett a full year and a half before his appearance in Empire, this cartoon is just as big of a turd as the rest of it. The animation is perhaps the worst I have ever seen, and the story is nonsense.
Just as the "special" is wrapping up, and you think the worst is behind you, it pushes that prison shank just a little bit deeper into your flesh, as Carrie Fisher begins to sing. Carrie Fisher should never, ever, ever sing. Ever.
If this review is not enough to keep you away, I have a word of advice. Make sure you and your friends watch this together, as you will not want to have to endure it more than once. Remember, there is safety in numbers.
Transmission out.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Fairies Wear Boots
I recently read an article that discussed the cult following of a movie called Troll 2, and that claimed many who watched it swore that it was the worst movie ever made. So of course I immediately requested that Netflix send it to me. As a bonus, the disc also included the original Troll. It truly says something when the original can be called a better film. Once the disc arrived, I invited some friends over to share in the joy of some truly awful cinema.
I quickly realized that I had seen at least parts of the original several years ago, likely on TNT's MonsterVision hosted by Joe Bob Briggs (At some point I'll write about that fantastic show). Anyway, the plot revolves around a family of four moving into an apartment building that just happens to be the home of a troll, a witch, Sonny Bono, and Andy from WKRP in Cincinnati. The little girl wastes no time getting into mischief, and very quickly the troll possesses/assumes her form in order to gain the trust of the other tennants. Why, you ask. So that he may turn people into plants. Not ordinary plants, mind you, but plants that sprout other trolls, fairies, and various other diminutive bastards that look like the mistakes of a druken night of passion between Dr. Ruth, the Garbage Pail Kids, and the Ghoulies. There is probably some sort of metaphor or life's lesson in the scene where Sonny Bono is turned into a plant, but I didn't pick up on it.
The older brother soon realizes that his sister is even more obnoxious than usual, and in trying to figure out what is going on, befriends a woman (played by June Lockheart, the mother from Lassie) who turns out to be a witch. Did I mention that the boy's name is Harry Potter? Anyway, for some inexplicable reason she waits until the third day of funny goings on to tell him he had only three days to save his sister and keep the troll from turning the apartment complex into a fairy universe. Could've used that information, oh, I don't know, three days ago!!
Once the boy finds his sister and the witch congratulates him on defeating the troll, even though he did nothing to bring this about, his family piles into a car with only a box of stuff and some laundry detergent, and makes their escape. Apparently the cops were uninterested in asking them why they were the only ones to live through the ordeal, or in perhaps offering a more plausible explanation than "they were all turned into plants." Oh well. And by the way, easily the most frightening part of the movie is watching Michael Moriarty ( the original DA from Law & Order) dance around his living room to rock and roll. It should shame white people everywhere from ever dancing again.
So now we move on to Troll 2, the piece de resistance, which of course has virtually nothing to do with the first movie other than the presence of trolls. As I said earlier, some people are inclined to call this the worst movie ever made. While I certainly agree it is among the worst, I find it difficult to remove that crown from atop Plan 9's head. There remains, however, more than enough to laugh at. Everything about this movie is bad, from the acting to the dialog, from the special effects to the makeup, and from the directing to the plot. Just as many other bad movies, all these wrongs add up to a dreadfully hilarious right.
The movie opens with a young boy in his bed being told a story by his grandpa, a story that one assumes at first to be fantasy. An unfortunate traveler stumbles upon a group of trolls, who force him to eat food covered in bright green slime. As a result, the man turns into green gelatinous goo, which the trolls hastily devour. Did you follow that? Good, because that is the crux of the entire movie. What is not explained is how the grandpa knows about these trolls, or how he is able to relay this story to his grandson, since the old man is dead. Perhaps the boy is merely worked up because his family is about to travel to a sleepy little burg and take part in a family home swap with a family of yokels for a month. There is also no explanation as to how these two families hooked this up, particularly since this is pre-internet.
Wouldn't you know it, but this sleepy little burg just so happens to be the kingdom of said trolls, a sleepy little burg called Nilbog. I'll give you a minute to figure it out. If you still don't know, I'll clue you in later. One of the funniest moments of the film occurs when the boy and his family are traveling to Nilbog. There has been some arguing in the van, and so the mom decides to break the tension by yelling at her son, "Joshua, start singing. Come on, sing that song I like so much!" At which point he starts an in-the-round of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat." Why the hell she can't remember the name of the song is beyond me.
I should point out here that the family is not the only group traveling to Nilbog. Joshua's sister's boyfriend and three of his pals are on their way there in a winnebago. It seems Holly and her beau Elliot think it will be easier to "go all the way" out in the woods rather than back in her room. It's this contrivance that gives us the character Arnold and one of the film's funniest lines. Shortly after arriving, and having parked the winnebago in the woods, Arnold goes for a walk. He soon stumbles upon a pretty blonde girl running for her life from a group of trolls, or should I say, a bunch of extras wearing the shittiest makeup and costumes I think I've ever seen in a film. Anyway, the two of them run for their lives, but not, ironically back to the winnebago. Instead they find themselves at a building that from the outside appears to be a church, but on the inside is a cross between a hooker's bedroom and Dr. Frankenstein's lab. There they meet Creedence Leonore Gielgud, who we soon find out is the queen of the trolls, although at this point she is in human form. She offers them something to drink, something that has massive amounts of fog, smoke, or steam rising from its surface. So of course the girl takes a big gulp and instantly starts to excreet green slime out of her skin. Once she turns into a big pile of green goo, the trolls descend upon her. Arnold, who continues to stand in one spot despite things clearly taking a turn into some fucked up shit, merely exclaims, "They're eating her...and then they're going to eat me...OH MY GOOOOOOD!" Welcome to amature hour.
Another one of Elliot's buddies heads into town to get some food. Along the way he is given a ride into town by Sheriff Gene Freak. I kid you not. Once at the store, the boy looks around only to find numerous half-gallon cartons of milk, oddly unrefrigerated. When he asks for some coffee, the creepy man behind the counter who needs no makeup to look like a troll yells "There's no coffee in Nilbog. It's the devil's drink!" At this point in the movie I start making a mental checklist in my head of what to keep on hand should I ever have a run-in with trolls. Later that day Joshua and his dad arrive at the same store, only to find it closed. Joshua sees the town's sign in the rear-view mirror and realizes "Nilbog! It's goblin spelled backward!" Of course, no one in his family believes him at this point, as they all seem oblivious to the bizarre behavior of the local yokels.
Soon enough though, it all comes to a head. One of the trolls is set on fire by a lightning bolt from dearly departed grandpa, and when the dad puts him out with a fire extinguisher, the man's true troll form is revealed. Later that night, grandpa and Joshua infiltrate Creedence's lair, where they have to "concentrate" on the rock in the center of the room. It seems the rock, a piece of Stonehenge itself, is the source of the troll's power. What they have to "concentrate" on, however, is as much of a mystery as Stonehenge. At this point the grandpa tells Joshua that he is about to be called back to the land of the dead or something, but gives Joshua a backpack, telling him not to open it until he really needs it. How he is supposed to know when he will need it when he doesn't even know what's in it? It could be something that will help him defeat the trolls, or it could be a bag full of condoms for when Joshua goes off to college.
Where is Creedence Leonore Gielgud during all this, you ask? She's at the winnebago with Elliot's remaining friend. She seduces him by waving an ear of corn around her body. They get comfortable and both begin to bite on the ear of corn simultaneously as popcorn suddenly begins to fill the rv. One assumes that this friend is also about to become troll food, but when she exits, he is shown to be ok, minus some butter stains on his shirt. Completely inexplicable.
Creedence arrives back home, along with the other trolls, and encircle Joshua, who seems to have failed in his mission to stop them. But as we all know, it is always the darkest just before the dawn. He suddenly remembers the backpack, given to him all those long minutes ago. He opens the pack, and pulls out...a double decker bologna sandwich. He takes a bite of it, and Creedence is clearly distraught, "Aaagh! Think about the cholesterol! Think about...THE TOXINS!" Just like that, problem solved.
I'll leave it to you, dear readers, to discover exactly how the movie ends. Lets just say the bologna sandwich may not have been the cure-all it at first appeared to be. I have to say, despite the complete and utter ineptitude of everyone involved in this film, I enjoyed this movie far more than Terminator: Salvation, which I saw on the same day. Here's the trailer, if you are still not convinced.
Transmission out.
I quickly realized that I had seen at least parts of the original several years ago, likely on TNT's MonsterVision hosted by Joe Bob Briggs (At some point I'll write about that fantastic show). Anyway, the plot revolves around a family of four moving into an apartment building that just happens to be the home of a troll, a witch, Sonny Bono, and Andy from WKRP in Cincinnati. The little girl wastes no time getting into mischief, and very quickly the troll possesses/assumes her form in order to gain the trust of the other tennants. Why, you ask. So that he may turn people into plants. Not ordinary plants, mind you, but plants that sprout other trolls, fairies, and various other diminutive bastards that look like the mistakes of a druken night of passion between Dr. Ruth, the Garbage Pail Kids, and the Ghoulies. There is probably some sort of metaphor or life's lesson in the scene where Sonny Bono is turned into a plant, but I didn't pick up on it.
The older brother soon realizes that his sister is even more obnoxious than usual, and in trying to figure out what is going on, befriends a woman (played by June Lockheart, the mother from Lassie) who turns out to be a witch. Did I mention that the boy's name is Harry Potter? Anyway, for some inexplicable reason she waits until the third day of funny goings on to tell him he had only three days to save his sister and keep the troll from turning the apartment complex into a fairy universe. Could've used that information, oh, I don't know, three days ago!!
Once the boy finds his sister and the witch congratulates him on defeating the troll, even though he did nothing to bring this about, his family piles into a car with only a box of stuff and some laundry detergent, and makes their escape. Apparently the cops were uninterested in asking them why they were the only ones to live through the ordeal, or in perhaps offering a more plausible explanation than "they were all turned into plants." Oh well. And by the way, easily the most frightening part of the movie is watching Michael Moriarty ( the original DA from Law & Order) dance around his living room to rock and roll. It should shame white people everywhere from ever dancing again.
So now we move on to Troll 2, the piece de resistance, which of course has virtually nothing to do with the first movie other than the presence of trolls. As I said earlier, some people are inclined to call this the worst movie ever made. While I certainly agree it is among the worst, I find it difficult to remove that crown from atop Plan 9's head. There remains, however, more than enough to laugh at. Everything about this movie is bad, from the acting to the dialog, from the special effects to the makeup, and from the directing to the plot. Just as many other bad movies, all these wrongs add up to a dreadfully hilarious right.
The movie opens with a young boy in his bed being told a story by his grandpa, a story that one assumes at first to be fantasy. An unfortunate traveler stumbles upon a group of trolls, who force him to eat food covered in bright green slime. As a result, the man turns into green gelatinous goo, which the trolls hastily devour. Did you follow that? Good, because that is the crux of the entire movie. What is not explained is how the grandpa knows about these trolls, or how he is able to relay this story to his grandson, since the old man is dead. Perhaps the boy is merely worked up because his family is about to travel to a sleepy little burg and take part in a family home swap with a family of yokels for a month. There is also no explanation as to how these two families hooked this up, particularly since this is pre-internet.
Wouldn't you know it, but this sleepy little burg just so happens to be the kingdom of said trolls, a sleepy little burg called Nilbog. I'll give you a minute to figure it out. If you still don't know, I'll clue you in later. One of the funniest moments of the film occurs when the boy and his family are traveling to Nilbog. There has been some arguing in the van, and so the mom decides to break the tension by yelling at her son, "Joshua, start singing. Come on, sing that song I like so much!" At which point he starts an in-the-round of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat." Why the hell she can't remember the name of the song is beyond me.
I should point out here that the family is not the only group traveling to Nilbog. Joshua's sister's boyfriend and three of his pals are on their way there in a winnebago. It seems Holly and her beau Elliot think it will be easier to "go all the way" out in the woods rather than back in her room. It's this contrivance that gives us the character Arnold and one of the film's funniest lines. Shortly after arriving, and having parked the winnebago in the woods, Arnold goes for a walk. He soon stumbles upon a pretty blonde girl running for her life from a group of trolls, or should I say, a bunch of extras wearing the shittiest makeup and costumes I think I've ever seen in a film. Anyway, the two of them run for their lives, but not, ironically back to the winnebago. Instead they find themselves at a building that from the outside appears to be a church, but on the inside is a cross between a hooker's bedroom and Dr. Frankenstein's lab. There they meet Creedence Leonore Gielgud, who we soon find out is the queen of the trolls, although at this point she is in human form. She offers them something to drink, something that has massive amounts of fog, smoke, or steam rising from its surface. So of course the girl takes a big gulp and instantly starts to excreet green slime out of her skin. Once she turns into a big pile of green goo, the trolls descend upon her. Arnold, who continues to stand in one spot despite things clearly taking a turn into some fucked up shit, merely exclaims, "They're eating her...and then they're going to eat me...OH MY GOOOOOOD!" Welcome to amature hour.
Another one of Elliot's buddies heads into town to get some food. Along the way he is given a ride into town by Sheriff Gene Freak. I kid you not. Once at the store, the boy looks around only to find numerous half-gallon cartons of milk, oddly unrefrigerated. When he asks for some coffee, the creepy man behind the counter who needs no makeup to look like a troll yells "There's no coffee in Nilbog. It's the devil's drink!" At this point in the movie I start making a mental checklist in my head of what to keep on hand should I ever have a run-in with trolls. Later that day Joshua and his dad arrive at the same store, only to find it closed. Joshua sees the town's sign in the rear-view mirror and realizes "Nilbog! It's goblin spelled backward!" Of course, no one in his family believes him at this point, as they all seem oblivious to the bizarre behavior of the local yokels.
Soon enough though, it all comes to a head. One of the trolls is set on fire by a lightning bolt from dearly departed grandpa, and when the dad puts him out with a fire extinguisher, the man's true troll form is revealed. Later that night, grandpa and Joshua infiltrate Creedence's lair, where they have to "concentrate" on the rock in the center of the room. It seems the rock, a piece of Stonehenge itself, is the source of the troll's power. What they have to "concentrate" on, however, is as much of a mystery as Stonehenge. At this point the grandpa tells Joshua that he is about to be called back to the land of the dead or something, but gives Joshua a backpack, telling him not to open it until he really needs it. How he is supposed to know when he will need it when he doesn't even know what's in it? It could be something that will help him defeat the trolls, or it could be a bag full of condoms for when Joshua goes off to college.
Where is Creedence Leonore Gielgud during all this, you ask? She's at the winnebago with Elliot's remaining friend. She seduces him by waving an ear of corn around her body. They get comfortable and both begin to bite on the ear of corn simultaneously as popcorn suddenly begins to fill the rv. One assumes that this friend is also about to become troll food, but when she exits, he is shown to be ok, minus some butter stains on his shirt. Completely inexplicable.
Creedence arrives back home, along with the other trolls, and encircle Joshua, who seems to have failed in his mission to stop them. But as we all know, it is always the darkest just before the dawn. He suddenly remembers the backpack, given to him all those long minutes ago. He opens the pack, and pulls out...a double decker bologna sandwich. He takes a bite of it, and Creedence is clearly distraught, "Aaagh! Think about the cholesterol! Think about...THE TOXINS!" Just like that, problem solved.
I'll leave it to you, dear readers, to discover exactly how the movie ends. Lets just say the bologna sandwich may not have been the cure-all it at first appeared to be. I have to say, despite the complete and utter ineptitude of everyone involved in this film, I enjoyed this movie far more than Terminator: Salvation, which I saw on the same day. Here's the trailer, if you are still not convinced.
Transmission out.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
My Radiation Baby (My Teenage Fallout Queen)
Where do I begin with a movie like Nymphoid Barbarian in Dinosaur Hell? I suppose I'll start with the opening scenes, if for no other reason than to try and provide some sense of logic to the proceedings. We find out through a voice-over that a war lasting but a day, whose instigator remains unknown, has destroyed humanity as we know it. Nuclear fallout (?) has mutated animals as well as people, and civilization is at a prehistoric state. Our title character lets us know that she lives in a dinosaur hell, although there are really no dinosaurs. She also tells us that "Sometimes my juices start to flow, and I feel like a nymphoid," even though she has sex with no one, doesn't seem particularly interested in sex, and is topless for perhaps three seconds during the course of the movie. If you like the sound of her voice, soak it in here, because she barely speaks through the rest of the film.
The "plot," if you will, revolves around her man trying to rescue her from Clon and his band of lizard-men. Clon looks like a cross between the Kurgan from Highlander, a whino, and 1980s Cher. Judging by the condition of his teeth, I would say he is British. His lizard henchmen look like a poor man's version of the sleestaks.
With little in the way of dialog, the action is forced to carry the load, and it has the spine of someone suffering from scoliosis, rickets, and brittle bone disease. Early on in the film the nymphoid is attacked by three men, whom she initially fends off simply by twirling a wet towel over her head. Throughout the course of the film so many people are hit upside the head with tiny branches you'd think the big bad wolf was stalking them. And would someone please explain to me why people who clearly have lived in this environment for some time, manage to fall down so often. It's like watching the last few hours of a frat party. But the best action comes toward the end, when Clon engages in a duel for the ages with this guy whom I will call Leatherface. Leatherface has been helping the nympoid since she escaped from Clon's clutches, and is putting his life on the line to protect her. For roughly ten minutes of screen time, these two titans go at each other with the believability and the ferociousness of a second-grade school play. I won't bother to tell you how it ends. That is for you to suffer through.
As a side note, the music is done by The Astral Warriors. The name would suggest at least cheesy cool, but alas, no. It appears that the band or group had only one keyboard to share, and a musical repertoire of exactly four notes.
I give you the trailer, for anyone morbidly curious:
Transmission out.
The "plot," if you will, revolves around her man trying to rescue her from Clon and his band of lizard-men. Clon looks like a cross between the Kurgan from Highlander, a whino, and 1980s Cher. Judging by the condition of his teeth, I would say he is British. His lizard henchmen look like a poor man's version of the sleestaks.
With little in the way of dialog, the action is forced to carry the load, and it has the spine of someone suffering from scoliosis, rickets, and brittle bone disease. Early on in the film the nymphoid is attacked by three men, whom she initially fends off simply by twirling a wet towel over her head. Throughout the course of the film so many people are hit upside the head with tiny branches you'd think the big bad wolf was stalking them. And would someone please explain to me why people who clearly have lived in this environment for some time, manage to fall down so often. It's like watching the last few hours of a frat party. But the best action comes toward the end, when Clon engages in a duel for the ages with this guy whom I will call Leatherface. Leatherface has been helping the nympoid since she escaped from Clon's clutches, and is putting his life on the line to protect her. For roughly ten minutes of screen time, these two titans go at each other with the believability and the ferociousness of a second-grade school play. I won't bother to tell you how it ends. That is for you to suffer through.
As a side note, the music is done by The Astral Warriors. The name would suggest at least cheesy cool, but alas, no. It appears that the band or group had only one keyboard to share, and a musical repertoire of exactly four notes.
I give you the trailer, for anyone morbidly curious:
Transmission out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)