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LES
RAISINS DE LA MORT. (1978) Thank God!!! The first French zombie movie.
The zombies say, "I love you" and are sad. Its POETIC. Remember, its POETIC.
Its directed by Jean Rollin, thereby is EXTRA POETIC. Super duper poetic
even. Some sort of disease ends up in wine and turns people into zombies!
Uh-oh, it also makes everyone surrender to the Nazis!! Uh-oh. What naughty
wine, it should be sent to bed without dinner. Ha ha ha. Hee hee hee.
Okay, I admit, I didn't watch the whole movie. In fact I spent most of
the film's 7 and a half hour running time playing a Tempest emulator ON
MY COMPUTOR. So, I'm not really sure what exactly, if anything, happened
here. Brigitte LaHaie is in it though, give her a hand everybody. She
takes off her clothes for no reason because of POETRY. Two guys with dynamite
and shotguns run around saving the heroine from the zombies. Video Search
of Miami is the EXCLUSIVE DISTRIBUTOR OF JEAN ROLLIN'S FILMS IN THE UNITED
STATES. Let me reiterate that VIDEO SEARCH OF MIAMI IS THE EXCLUSIVE DISTRIBUTOR
OF JEAN ROLLIN'S FILMS IN THE UNITED STATES. And in no way would Video
Search of Miami use a fifth generation video bootleg as the OFFICIAL DISTRIBUTION
OF JEAN ROLLIN'S FILMS IN THE UNITED STATES. Here is a little scene illustrating
Video Search of Miami's dedication to its customers.
Thomas Weisser, president
of VSoM and friend of all: VIDEO SEARCH OF MIAMI IS THE EXCLUSIVE DISTRIBUTOR
OF JEAN ROLLIN'S FILMS IN THE UNITED STATES.
Assistant: Uh, okay Mr. Weisser, I understood that the tenth time you
said it. Uh, but we said the video copies were from Jean Rollin's personal
35mm copies and all we have is this bootleg from South Africa.
Weisser: THEN WE SHALL USE IT, FOR AS THE EXCLUSIVE DISTRIBUTOR OF JEAN
ROLLIN'S FILMS IN THE UNITED STATES IT SHALL BE EXCLUSIVE.
Assistant: Uh, okay. I also found this home video someone made of Jean
Rollin in 1968 talking about the war in Vietnam, what should we do with
it.
Weisser: (dramatically turns around in his chair and rips off his glasses)
WE ARE THE EXCLUSIVE DISTRIBUTOR OF JEAN ROLLIN'S FILMS IN THE UNITED
STATES. USE THAT AS THE INTRODUCTION.
Assistant: But it doesn't really deal with the film and is pretty poor
in quality.
Weisser: (dramatically turning around in his chair and throwing his glasses
back on) AS THE EXCLUSIVE DISTRIBUTOR OF JEAN ROLLIN'S FILMS IN THE UNITED
STATES WE MUST DO IT FOR THE GOOD OF THE CHILDREN.
Assistant: Uh, okay. All we have are these cheap video graphics though,
should we try something more professional looking? Weisser: NO.
Assistant: Uh, okay. You know, Anchor Bay is releasing movies like this
on DVD and video with remastered prints and sound and lots of extras,
usually for under $20.
Weisser: THEY LACK EXCLUSSIVITY. IF THEY HAD IT THEY WOULD NOT DO THAT.
WE SHALL CHARGE $40 A TAPE BECAUSE WE ARE THE EXCLUSIVE DISTRIBUTOR OF
JEAN ROLLIN'S FILMS IN THE UNITED STATES.
Assistant: $40? Are you sure? The quality is kind of lame for $40.
Weisser: I DON'T PAY YOU TO THINK UNDERLING. I PAY YOU TO SUPPLY ME WITH
FRESH BABIES TO SKIN SO I MAY WEAR THE SKIN AND CONVERSE WITH THE DEMON
MMRGLORPHMMMLV WHO GIVES ME ETERNAL LIFE. I PRODUCED A SONG FOR LINNEA
QUIGLEY. I AM IN NO WAY AN ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY BOTTOM FEEDER. I ONCE
MET OLIVER STONE. GIVE ME ANOTHER BABY. ARRRRRRGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
God bless America!!!
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RAPE! [Okasu!] (1976).
The Japanese are the most screwed up people on earth (take it from me, I
work for them). Want evidence? Watch their sex films. They're all about
torture and rape, and this one is about a woman who falls in love with her
rapist. Natsuko Yatsushiro couldn't act her way out of a paper bag, but
stars in this as a virginal librarian raped in her elevator (the apologists
for these movies try to claim that it's brutal, but really it's filmed like
a normal sex scene) and becomes a big-league slut who becomes obsessed with
her rapist and tries to track him down. At one point she takes on two guys
at once and they hilariously ignore her ("how's your side?"). The rapist
(Keizo Kanie) is a misfit truck driver who tries to rape Naomi Tanai, but
when she starts to enjoy it he smacks her around and leaves. The best part
of these films being released over here in America is getting to hear people
like Tom Weisser go on and on about their artistic merit and ignoring the
fact that in true exploitation fashion these films are sleazy and without
any.
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THE RATS ARE COMING!
THE WEREWOLVES ARE HERE! (1971). This is bad, but not too bad. I remember
seeing this on TV as a kid and I thought it was pretty stupid then, but
seeing it again I got nostalgic for the time when you could stay up all
night and see movies like this on TV rather than infomercials and crap like
VIP. Where is the next generation of crap film fans going to come from if
they can't be warped by these films while still young? They're all just
going to end up liking Quentin Tarentino ("he steals, but that's cool because
I'm just a stupid tool who does what Entertainment Weekly tells me to do")
and teen comedies. Anyway, this is an Andy Milligan movie, so you know what
that means. It's not very good, but I didn't think it was as boring as his
other films. Noel Collins marries Hope Stansbury and they travel to Stansbury's
family home where they find odd goings on, like her sadistic sister (Jackie
Skarvelis) who tortures animals, and the fact that the family is under a
spooky curse. They're all werewolves, as the title indicates. The rats are
pointlessly supplied by a deformed rat supplier, and he tells a story about
seeing rats eat an old woman, which is the only thing I remembered about
this film from when I saw it before. Most of the film is pretty much like
all of Milligan's other films, there's a lot of bickering and anti-social
infighting, as well as theatrical performances and cheap as hell Milligan
conventions. But don't blame me if you see it and have a stroke from boredom.
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A
REAL YOUNG GIRL (1976). Thank you to Catherine Breillat for giving the sleazy
art film its most ridiculous movie: Romance, I have high hopes that
as long as she remains the pretentious bore that she is there will be more
where that came from. But every well has its source, and here is the source
for Romance, a basically unwatchable and rather pathetic amateur
porn film that makes German piss videos look dynamic and professional by
comparison. From the outset with the opening remarks of "my name is Alice…I
despise people, they oppress me" you know you can only be in France. From
then on in we are privied to the thoughts and actions of young Alice, a
teenager in the late 60s who is DISCOVERING HER SEXUALITY, which consists
mostly of Alice peeing, sticking objects into her vagina, peeing, taking
off her underwear, peeing, and spying on the local stud who works at her
father's steel mill. Within a few moments of each other Breillat gives us
two of the more charming scenes I have seen of late: Alice vomits on herself,
then (in flashback) pisses in close-up. Those of you hoping to see somebody
chow down on some poop are out of luck, for some reason Breillat didn't
think to include that. This being "art" there is no plot as such, just lots
of scenes of Alice sitting down in the middle of the road exposing herself,
being flashed by a guy on a roller coaster, her father fucking his mistress
and cleaning himself up afterwards, even the local stud wiping his semen
all over Alice's dress. Will Alice lose her virginity before the summer
is out? Or will her stud be killed by a boar trap in the garden? The actress
playing Alice (who's name I won't even list, she doesn't deserve any publicity)
attempts to ape the proverbial awkward teenager, but mostly ends up looking
not-so-mildly retarded in the process. It seems that in France Breillat
is mostly hated, and for good reason, her films are meaningless shock epics
that are the cinematic equivalent of finding a used tampon on your seat
in the theater.
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THE RED CIRCLE [Le
Cercle Rouge] (1970). I saw this movie once on cable TV on a channel that
was having a Jean-Pierre Melville festival and haven't forgotten it. It's
a magnetic heist film from the master of the genre in what may be his best
film. Alain Delon is released from prison in order to pull off a jewelry
store robbery, and by a strange twist of fate meets up with escaped prisoner/heist
man Gian Maria Volonte. The two plot the robbery and enlist alcoholic ex-police
sharpshooter Yves Montand (who is as brilliant as usual) and pull off the
tightly planned robbery (the wordless heist is a masterpiece of ingenuity)
but, as usual, fate and circumstance intervene and the trio are undone as
a cat-loving inspector (comic Bourvil) investigates. Melville's films have
the fine precision of a Swiss watch, and anyone fascinated by the intricate
and detailed will no doubt become a great admirer of Melville's work, while
those more inclined to the fast and furious will not last five minutes.
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REDNECK ZOMBIES (1987).
Is there anything worse than a Troma film? Maybe anal rape in prison, but
not much. Oh, wait, I know, a shot on video Troma movie. Even worse is a
would-be funny shot on video Troma movie. This fits that description to
a T. Some fat-ass rednecks in Maryland get toxic waste in their moonshine
and become Toxic Zombies (oh, wait, that title's already taken)…Redneck
Zombies. They run around and rip a bunch of stupid campers to shreds. Ha
ha. If you like seeing lots of bad special effects and enormous fat hillbillies
running around trying to be funny, then this is the movie for you.
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RENEGADE NINJA (1979).
This is one of the few Japanese films that somehow ended up with an American
video release, made out to look like a chop-socky movie. Despite its strangeness,
it’s a rather unremarkable film. The Seven Samurai plot deals with
a young lord who gather a group of masterless ninja to bring down
the Shogun. Not too much gore for a Japanese film, the battle and fight
scenes aren’t particularly exciting, though it’s a bit better than Ninja
Wars, which was tossed out onto video around the same time, as the characters
are slightly better played. Has, for these sort of movies, a typically nonsensical
ending in which after managing to assassinate the Shogun, our hero is mowed
down by unseen gunmen. Bleh.
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RETURN
OF THE DRAGON (1973). Its too bad that Bruce Lee never worked with anyone
more professional than Lo Wei or Robert Clouse, their respective countries'
low-end hack directors (though Lo was successful financially, he never took
too much interest in the making of his movies), I'm sure something truly
phenomenal would've happened if Lee had worked with Chang Cheh, or Lau Kar-Leung
(or even Sammo Hung), admittedly, his style of on-screen fighting was more
natural than the more stagy style of most martial-arts directors, but the
movies Lee did appear in are fairly sub-standard chop-socky of the period,
redeemed only by Lee's presence. This is probably his weakest film, a self-directed
effort from his own script is riddled with ridiculous implausibilities and
clichés, and not nearly enough action. Lee plays a stock Chinese country
bumpkin who comes to, of all places, Rome, to help protect his relatives'
restaurant from the local chapter of the Mafia, which seems to mostly be
comprised of very American looking dudes, not to mention black guys, and
the stereotypical Chinese who sells out to the "foreigners" (incredibly,
this is what the characters in the movie call the Italians!!). Despite everyone
having a gun, Lee beats up everybody, so, rather than just having a guy
walk up to Lee and shoot him, the baddies hire a few martial arts "experts",
Bob Wall (who gets the crap kicked out of him by Bruce Lee for the first
of two times that same year, later he was the doomed O'Hara in Enter the
Dragon) and "Japanese" Whang In Shik (a Korean, who Lee apparently really
beat up on the set when he kicked some stuntmen and badmouthed Chinese martial
arts, wow, just like in the movies). But the big gun is "Colt" America's
best fighter, played by Chuck Norris, in the movie that would kick off his
unfortunate film career. Lee of course beats them all, including Norris,
in a "realistic" fight scene (though there are the usual rumors of Lee asking
Norris to pull his punches a bit, and considering the fact that Norris looks
to outweigh Lee by at least 80 pounds I don't blame him). Nothing here though,
really shows what Lee was capable of, the fight scenes are listless, the
plot is perfunctory, there is a smidgen of romantic interest between Lee
and Nora Miao (who I have to admit, looks pretty hot in her tight bell-bottoms)
but nothing ever comes of it. Basically Lee has to come up with ways to
disarm and beat up his white opponents. Lee himself, I think, was fairly
cosmopolitan, and even considered himself to be an American above all else
(this can be seen even in his salad bar fighting style), but his Hong Kong
image was of the Chinese superman who beats up foreigners (Chinese need
to be victims and victors simultaneously in their movies) and he plays that
to the hilt here, but the stereotypes are so vulgar and stupid to simply
be beneath someone like Lee, and perhaps he was displeased with the way
things turned out, since, unusually for a martial-arts movie, Lee shows
respect to Norris after snapping his neck. I guess you should see it for
historical reasons, or if you love Lee, but otherwise its not really worth
the trouble.
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RETURN OF THE STREET
FIGHTER (1975). The original Street Fighter was something new, with
its emphasis on brutal hand to hand combat, but this is a decidedly poor
sequel, consisting mostly of flashbacks to the first film, Sonny Chiba returns
as Terry Tsurugi, who runs afoul of a racist mobster and his crew. The minimal
plot still manages to be confusing, bumping about from one unrelated thing
to another. No fun at all.
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REVENGE IN THE HOUSE
OF USHER (aka El hundimiento de la casa Usher/Los crimenes de Usher/Nevrose/Neurosis/The
Fall of the House of Usher/Die Rache des Hauses, 1983). You really have
to wonder how the Eurocine production meeting for this movie went. "Hey,
guys, Jess Franco is here, he wants to do a movie." "Franco, eh, what does
he want, let me guess, another Dr. Orloff remake." "Wow, how did you know?
Yeah, that's right, he wants to do another Orloff movie, but this time combine
it with Edgar Allen Poe's The Fall of the House of Usher." "Edgar Allen
Poe, eh, better avoid legal difficulties, let's call him 'Edgard' instead."
"Brilliant idea, good man, but what is the bloody thing going to be about."
"Let's ask Franco himself!" [enter Jess Franco, stooped over like a chimp]
"My dear gentlemen, surely you don't think the film should be about anything,
do you? I say, let's just put in 20 or so minutes from The Awful Dr. Orloff,
and build the whole movie around that!" "Good God man, you are truly a hack
among hacks!" [Franco bows deeply] "Thank you, sir." Well, some of this
dialogue was enhanced for dramatic purposes, seeing as Eurocine never once
held a production meeting, since if they did a movie such as this wouldn't
be made. Howard Vernon plays the son (or grandson, I don't remember) of
Dr. Orloff, only now he's called "Usher" (so that a title card can read:
"based on the story by 'Edgard Allen Poe'") and he lives in a Spanish villa
with his servants (one of whom has a deformed eye, and the make up is so
ludicrously bad it wouldn't appear in a pre-school production of "A Christmas
Carol"). This "Usher" is a doddering old man who sees things and tries to
keep his daughter alive via fresh blood infusions supplied by chained maidens
in the basement. An ex-student shows up, and, uh, I forget, since I started
to read Jerry Butler's autobiography in the middle of the movie. My former
policy was to watch a movie from beginning to end, but I have to make an
exception for Franco. Suffice it to say, this movie is maybe the worst Franco
film I've ever seen, complete with ridiculous dubbing (the "voice artists"
go to bizarre lengths to try and make two people sound like six or seven)
and lots of spazz zooms into walls (the castle is made of bricks, my mission
is complete) and ugly actor's faces. Where's all the "erotic" jazziness
supposedly present in all of Franco's films? Probably in the same place
as the entertainment value.
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REVENGE (1986). This
movie proudly proclaimed itself to be the sequel to Blood Cult, which
was equally proud to call itself the first shot on video feature (no). Any
movie that would be proud to associate itself with that atrocity must be
worth watching, and this one is worth it because it's a hilariously inept
piece of garbage. It actually stars Patrick Wayne, and seeing his performance
here, its safe to say that daddy John doesn't have to worry about his icon
status. Wayne (desperate to prove he shouldn't have become an actor) comes
to a small town to investigate the murders featured in Blood Cult and finds,
of course, sinister goings on. John Carridine (in a bad role, even for him)
seems to be drunk and reads his lines off cue cards as the SKEPTICAL AUTHORITY
FIGURE. Director Christopher Lewis tries to save money with a cinema verite
look, lots of long takes and hand-held cameras, that, with the pre-school
cast leads to flubbed line after flubbed line. To pad out the running time
(the movie is 88 minutes, but seems like 4 or 5 hours) Lewis allows meaningless
scenes to go on endlessly. At one point a biker harasses LOCAL WHO BECOMES
HERO'S RIGHT HAND MAN Benni Lee McGowan who threatens to shoot the guy for
about ten minutes before making good on her threats, and he rides off like
nothing happened. The stirring conclusion also features similarly tight
and dynamic Kurosawa-like editing as McGowan threatens to kill the villain
for fifteen minutes before Wayne finishes him off. Thank you Pat! There's
a lot of unintentionally funny stuff here, like Wayne reporting a murder
but disguising his voice by using the worst French accent imaginable; or
Wayne and McGowan breaking into a bad guy's house and finding conveniently
placed Satanic black robes, a calendar that says "Grand Initiation" and
a map with a big circle on it that reads "Sacrificial Ground". In keeping
with the spirit of these goings on the ending features a demon with a perm
who appears for no reason. Masochists may also want to check out another
Lewis endurance test, The Ripper (featuring the sheer star power
of Tom Savini as Jack the Ripper).
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RIKKI-O (1991). This
is basically a live action anime, and is probably about as far out as a
movie can get. Its directed by Ivan Lan, the rather insane director of movies
like Daughter of Darkness and Blue Jean Monster, its
probably the best out-and-out adaptation of a comic since the Japanese Lone
Wolf and Cub series, in terms of rapid fire visuality, and appropriately
imaginative violence. Muscular Fan Siu-Wong plays Ricky Ho, sentenced to
ten years in prison for manslaughter, flashbacks show how his uncle taught
him chi-gong kung-fu, and how Ricky punches a hole in the head of a drug
dealer who had caused his girlfriend’s suicide. Ricky becomes a champion
of the weak in prison, and he goes about this by beating the shit out of
and mutilating various body parts of bullies and baddies. For instance,
he punches holes in people’s guts, he tears off arms, he rips off a jaw,
etc. In one scene he whacks a guy so hard in the back of the head his eye
pops out! That same scene (!) the villain commits hara-kiri and tries
to strangle Ricky with his own guts! You’ve got the typical prison snitches
and bullies (at one point a thug runs a plainer over a guy’s nose), and
all of them get their richly deserved violent ends. The warden shoots people
with a gun that causes them to puff up and explode, and he mutates into
a silly-looking monster. Yukari Oshima has one of her more eccentric roles
as a male prison gang boss who grows opium poppies, and she even, for a
second, manages to look like a man (until you realize, “hey, that’s Yukari
Oshima”). Definitely recommended for warped kung-fu fans.
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RING
(1998). Up until the foolish ending, this is one of the classiest horror
films to come out in a long time, and if you might have thought that no
one could pull off a theatrical horror film in the wake of the cheap shocks
of Blair Witch this may change your mind. But add this one to a number
of other recent films puts front and center the pathetic state of American
horror films, since most of the best horror films of the last decade or
so have been European or Asian. American films long having given up on scaring
the audience and instead settling on an infantile approach of teenage tits
and gore tossed about witlessly. I guess since I've been watching horror
films for as long as I remember I can at the very least remember seeing
numerous frightening, or at least ambitious films. I clearly remember staying
up half the night when I was 6 (and the now horrifically lame USA Network
use to show horror films on the weekend) and watching Night of the Living
Dead and being scared witless. Or films like The Haunting, The
Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Black Cat, Black Christmas,
or an exploitation shocker like Last House on the Left, even
the original A Nightmare on Elm Street(hell even the original Friday
the 13th was a little bit creepy). Just about any American horror
film of the last 10 or 15 years has merely been a travesty of the genre,
nothing but a long string of unfunny in-jokes, nudity and blandly unimaginative
killings. It isn't so much that the horror genre is disreputable, it's always
been that way, but that those who claim to make "horror" films so obviously
hold their audience in such contempt as to insult their intelligence, as
if the audience is too dumb to scare so instead we'll just gross them out
and give them only the most obvious of plots to tide them over. Lately the
only time I end up seeing a horror film in a theater is when I go to the
art house to watch the two or three Japanese horror films they bother showing
a year. And the first person who starts a sentence with "since 9/11…" is
going to get their fucking head knocked off.
Anyway, back to the movie. Ring (or, Ringu if you're an obsessed
anime freak who isn't "keeping it real" unless you say the title in Japanese)
takes the beginnings of an urban legend and crafts a slick, unnerving little
gem. Hugely popular in Asia, it's spawned numerous sequels, but of course
is all but impossible to get a hold of here in America (see above). The
plot revolves around a group of teenagers (no wait, come back) who view
a "weird tape" and exactly one week later each of them die. Enter that standby
of every country's horror genre, the spunky female reporter (Nanako Matsuhima)
who starts to investigate the rumors surrounding the teens' deaths. She
heads to the cabin they stayed at and views a mysterious video tape of seemingly
random (but creepy) images. Like the dead teens, she immediately receives
a phone call, and she obviously starts to take stock of the legend. She
enlists the help of her ex-husband (Hiroyuki Sanada, is he the old-school
Japanese chop socky star?) who also views the tape and the two begin to
investigate. Well, I won't say anymore here, since its vital to be in suspense
for this movie (that's what horror films are all about, right?). Director
Hideo Nakata at least has enough good sense to keep everything low key,
like the recent films Audition, Angel Dust and Cure,
these films are about the strictly normal everyday world, which is suddenly
invaded by the illogical and the inscrutable. One of the founding clichés
of the horror film (and horror literature) is placing the most logical and
intelligent members of society in a situation that defies logic. Look at
Poe; he is filled with perfectly sensible people who are thrust into the
most bizarre of situations. The nobleman who seals his tormentor into a
wall, or the detective investigating a murderous ape. Horror films feature
people like reporters, doctors, professors, etc. because it is these people
who we expect to be the most dispassionate and logical amongst us. A horror
film based around screaming Jerry Springer fans would be a farce,
simply because one cannot take the fear of illiterate country bumpkins seriously.
The fear of a professional man, or even merely a normal, average citizen
(as in Night of the Living Dead) is more palpable. Thus the problem
with most recent American horror films, how can we possibly take seriously
the fear of wisecracking, horny teenagers? If elements of the plot of Ring
don't make an enormous amount of sense it is because a genuine horror
film should never really make sense, it should have the logic of a bad dream.
Asking, for instance, in the end how the hell did that cursed videotape
get itself made is missing the point, there is no real reason, because in
true horror film style the forces being dealt with are not really of this
earth. (Even a film like say, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
can be looked at the same way, while there aren't really any ghosts here,
the cannibal family take on the characteristic of a troll or goblin straight
out of the Brothers Grimm.) Typically for a Japanese film (this was originally
made for TV) everything is very professional, the acting is generally very
good, though lead Matsushima is extremely bland, though typical of Japanese
actresses. But any self-respecting horror fan should throw away his DVD
of Jeepers Creepers and check this one out instead.
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ROBOT
MONSTER (1953). Never before has the shocking secret world of the Ro-Men
been so nakedly portrayed on the big screen. In sensual, dynamic 3-D! Wyott
Ordung (or, as he's better known as today: Ariel Sharon!!) the greatest
name in Hollywood history, wrote this unbelievable film. Don't get me wrong,
I don't doubt the veracity of the situation presented here, its certainly
possible. Sometime in THE FUTURE almost all of humanity has been wiped out
by Ro-Man, from the race of Ro-Men, a dastardly group if ever there was
one. Ro-Man uses technology to zap humanity off the face of the earth, save
a small group of idiots who managed to survive because they were given an
experimental treatment that rendered them immune from all disease. Ro-Man
is understandably cheesed off at this, especially since he has his boss
breathing down his neck for results, so our put-upon Ro-Man goes out looking
for the last remaining Hu-Mans, all living, of course, in Bronson Canyon!
Basically there's every single sci-fi movie cliché here, save the heroic
teenagers (this was 1953, teenagers hadn't been invented yet): the brilliant
foreign scientist, the smart but helpless dame who is usually (and in this
case is) the foreigner's daughter, the insufferable children, the helpless
wife, and of course the hunky hero. Only in this movie, everybody sucks
more or less equally, since after all, how can you fight Ro-Man? Oh, you
haven't met Ro-Man yet? He's the fellow over there in the ape suit and paper
mache spaceman helmet on his head. Yes, Ro-Man, terror of the universe.
Even more horrifying is Ro-Man's equipment, standard military surplus hardware
with the terrifying addition of a bubble machine that makes his sizable
cave in Bronson Canyon resemble an especially warped episode of The Lawrence
Welk Show. Ro-Man spend a good deal of time talking to everybody on
a TV, getting chewed out by his boss, and wandering around aimlessly in
Bronson Canyon, as well as taunting the final Hu-Mans:
"Fine! I will recalculate, your deaths will be indescribable! You Hu-Mans
shall not escape!"
"Hu-Man Wo-Man is the bringer of Hu-Man life!"
"The boy is impertinent!" and so on and so forth. Finally in the end Ro-Man
kills the little girl, hunky scientist hero George Nader (who doesn't even
put on a damn shirt during his wedding), and, thank god, a horrible little
boy-child actor, before being done in by his boss for gross incompetence.
The boss's big plan to rid the earth of Hu-Mans? Unleashing extinct reptiles
to eat everyone!
This is the sort of movie where we watch for 5 minutes as Ro-Man tries to
tie up Claudia Barrett (who he takes a shine to) before bopping her one
on the head, but as soon as he turns around again she is neatly tied to
a chair. There are also plenty of close-ups of hands working on electronic
equipment. The whole country will rally around the words: "We humans will
not give up dis Erd of ours!"
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