Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers (1988)

Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers (1988)

Written By: Fritz Gordon

Directed By: Michael A. Simpson

Starring: Pamela Springsteen, Renee Estevez, Brian Patrick Clarke, Walter Gotell

Country of Origin: United States of America

The Idea:
In the brief time that has passed since my review of the original Sleepaway Camp, the movie has grown on me rapidly and given me a far different perspective of the genre it was infringing on upon its creation. Sleepaway Camp is, mind the pun, “campy,” and serves as great horror schlock that allows for you and yours to create your own serious of hilarious in-jokes. Right now, I could peer at a complete stranger, and then, upon examination, turn back to my friends and simply say “man, oh man!” Within moments they would connect that to Sleepaway Camp and understand I was referring to the size of that stranger’s breasts. Fun, huh?

When the time finally came to sit down and watch Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers, expectations ran much higher than they had for the first film. And even though the sequel can’t compare to the original in any form whatsoever, it maintains a lot of the spirit of the original film throughout its horrible acting, bad dialogue, and questionable “camp” experience. I have never been so thankful to have missed out on summer camp as I was when I watch these movies.

A little history lesson to set the scene: Angela Baker is now something of legend and Camp Arawak is long forgotten. If you’re unfamiliar with all of this, brush up by reading the original review. Anyway, we’ve reconvened at Camp Rolling Hills, where the story of Angela Baker has been passed around from person to person as a campfire tale. However, nobody seems to put the simplest of concepts together when their “letter-of-the-law” counselor Angela tells them to stop telling ghost stories. Yep, she’s the same one, but none of them are bright enough to solve the mystery.

In all fairness, that isn’t even the most mind-boggling storyline in the first 15 minutes. You see, the story seems to relay the message that despite killing dozens of people, Angela, then a minor, was sent to years of psychotherapy where she received a full-blown sex change (making her hoo-hoo dilly into a cha-cha) and was then released. Even OJ couldn’t have gotten away that easy, but I digress.

After setting all of these wonderful guidelines down for the innocent and often assumed moronic viewer, the film moves rapidly (just under 80 minutes) with Angela offing each camper for their various indiscretions, all the time maintaining that they violated some sort of camp rule and had to promptly be sent home. This is the film’s strongest point, and probably only strong point thus far. One of the most redeeming factors of the Sleepaway Camp series is the innovative and often uncomfortable methods of murder. Whereas characters met their demise with curling irons and beehives in movie one, movie two executes the use of a power drill, barbecue grill, and, lest we forget, a port-o-potty. In one of the silliest and by far worst scenes in slasher history, Angela stuffs a female camper into the inner sanctum of defecation and begins to prod at her until she is consumed by gallons and gallons of shit. Often times, I have stopped in these reviews by concepts I find to be stifling in their nature, but even I don’t know how to explain what the writer, director, and actors were thinking when they determined that this sequence, in total a good 5 minutes, needed to be kept in the film. Sometimes, I wish Angela would just use a machete to give a sense of tradition.

The other all-powering factor of this series is that few, if any of the main characters are redeeming. You really, really want Angela to win by film’s end. Sure, there’s a romance blooming between two characters who we could almost root for and our muscle-crotch counselor has been replaced by a mullet-sporting douche bag, but beyond those characters, the rest are faceless drones who occasionally flash some tits or ogle some tits. The first film had zero incidences of nudity. This one had at least twelve. It just goes to show that the ability of sequels to match their predecessors often fall on deaf ears when they fall backwards on old staples like exposed bosoms.


Member of the crew who should’ve been fired: Now would be a very good time to blame Stan Wakefield, Jerry Silva, and Michael A. Simpson, the executive producer and producers, respectively, for presenting this movie as a “fun” horror film. If you’ve watched any of the trailers for Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers, you’re well aware that all of the serious tone of the original has been removed in order to give it the sleek new look of the 1980’s, complete with nudity (again) and upbeat synth-pop. I wonder why the original creators of Sleepaway Camp refuse to acknowledge this in their canon.

Best Name in the Cast: I’ve never had a harder choice in this department, but when both Emilio Estevez’s sister and Bruce Springsteen’s sister star in one movie, you know you’ve got a real noodle-scratcher. In an effort to be objective, the nod goes to Pamela Springsteen, who did one other film of note after this one: Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland. Oh yes, its coming soon.

Quote of the Film:

“Listen, you don't have AIDS or anything, do you?” -Ally, the titanic twat after sex with an underdeveloped young man. Mother fucking genius.

Final Thoughts: While scoping out films in my local DVD store, I stumbled across a copy of the aforementioned Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland, and I was giddy to watch. Why? Because even though these films range from moderate to atrocious, they are all incredibly entertaining and hold enough esteem in the dignity department to keep me interested. That, and there’s only three of them. It’s not like I’m buying 11 films about a hockey-mask wearing monster. Just three about a trans-gendered hotness with a hard-on for killing.
B.B.

Mortal Kombat: Annihilation (1997)

Mortal Kombat: Annihilation (1997)

Written By: Brent V. Friedman & Bryce Zabel (Screenplay), John Tobias & Ed Boon (Characters)

Directed By: John R. Leonetti

Starring: Robin Shou, Talisa Soto, Irina Pantaeva, James Remar

Country of Origin: United States of America

The Idea:
Mortal Kombat: Annihilation sucks out loud. I feel it is only necessary to explain in the very first paragraph of this entire review that this sequel to a video game movie is one of the worst examples of film making in history. The acting is terrible, the stunts are pretty awful, and just the general filmmaking techniques are stale, repetitive, and, to be honest, fucking nauseating. If this movie were a baby, the mother would have aborted it long before the birthing process began. All this aside (and that’s a lot to put aside), Mortal Kombat: Annihilation is still highly entertaining due mostly to its incredible awfulness.

The film picks up where the first one left off, but this time, the majority of the cast (save for Robin Shou and Talisa Soto) has been recast in an effort to cut costs. Make a note of that, it won’t be the first cost cutting measure we experience. Hitting the ground running, MK:A makes quick work of Johnny Cage as the movie’s first casualty while his friends literally stand by and watch the newly re-uh, reincarnated (?) Emperor Shao Kahn reign down hellfire and brimstone upon Earth. As Raiden (now James Remar) rapidly explains (and again, I do mean rapidly, this plot moves faster than the bowels of Professor Farnsworth), the realms are merging despite Liu Kang’s victory in the tournament in the first film. I state this now for future reference: in order to even halfway understand this clusterfuck, you will have had to watch the first Mortal Kombat.

The following 90 minutes that you, me, and every other hapless sap watching this movie are spent questioning exactly why we watch in the first place. For the second time in as many movies, we utilize a rapid transit wormhole to get around from realm to realm, which officially makes this my second bowel movement joke in as many graphs. I may want to consider slowing down. God damn it, I miss Goro.

Shao Kahn’s reemergence is seen as a major threat by the Elder Gods, even though his father and former Elder Shinnok has helped him rebuild his empire. Kahn (whose costume is way off from the game mind you, Kahn was never a baldy), plans to take down all of the human fighters, and he’s using Sindel, Kitana’s mother, to do it. Seems simple enough. On his side are generals and extermination squads, each of which is led by another familiar MK character. Why look: Motaro, Sheeva, Ermac, and yes, Rain all help to pioneer this hostile takeover. Too bad Kahn is merciless, as Rain lasts all of three lines before Kahn hammers him into a fiery pit of despair.

Meanwhile, back in, uh, some realm, Liu Kang is searching for Nightwolf to channel his “Animality” so he can fight Kahn and his armies and reacquire Kitana (who was captured by Scorpion after a battle with Sub-Zero and cyber-ninja Smoke), and of course, save the world. Liu is intercepted by Jade, a traitorous ninja out for trouble. However, she is of some use when Liu meets back up with Raiden (now a mortal fighter), Sonya Blade, and Jax, all of whom had just escaped Mileena and another cyber-ninja, Cyrax.

Having trouble keeping up? Good. You should be completely lost by this point and you likely have also lost three-dozen brain cells in the process. The fact of the matter is this: Mortal Kombat: Annihilation sacrificed any shred of plot, dialogue, acting, and dignity it garnered in the first movie and instead overloaded the film with every character to that time and fight scenes that were often dull and repetitive. Stop me if I neglected to mention Baraka’s three minute fight, or the fact that Stryker and Kabal were killed before the movie started, making them so insignificant they don’t even get screen time. Even Noob Saibot has a walk on appearance (and unfortunately, he doesn’t do something characteristic of a real Noob).

Eventually, the “real” plot of the film becomes evident as Raiden professes teamwork and communication over strength and force. And hey, that’s pretty much how good defeats evil in this sequel. We learn that its all about teamwork, communication, and Liu Kang’s ability to transform into a giant, hideous dragon to take down the Emperor. I may have neglected to mention that, but if you’re like me, once you saw yet another poor special effect (only about number 3,578 to that point in the movie) you simply threw your remote in the air and waited for it to concuss this film out of your memory. Feel your Animality!


Member of the crew that should’ve been fired: How about the film editor, director of photography, producer, and anyone else involved with the final cut of this movie. In a sequence that best exemplifies why they sucked at their jobs so much, Rain is disposed of in a nasty fashion when Shao Kahn “hammers” him into a fire pit. Later in the film, Baraka, an ugly, clawed character finds himself falling off of a chain and into the same fire pit. Guess what? Despite huge differences in costuming and appearance, the same clip of this death is shown for both guys. Like anyone (read: everyone) would notice.

Best Name in the Cast: James Remar is definitely the best name in the cast, this despite his horrible portrayal of Raiden. Just once I wished he channeled the spirit of his long departed character in The Warriors and exclaimed at Liu Kang: “Dammit, Liu! You’re all acting like a bunch of faggots!”

Quote of the Film:

“SUCKERS!!!” -Scorpion, because, come on, it’s Scorpion.

Final Thoughts: How is it all entertaining? Well, within all of the fighting, plot holes, and continuity errors, this movie serves as a wonderful example of how NOT to make a cinematic masterpiece. Let it be a lesson to all you young up and comers out there that if you want to create something people will remember for years to come, make sure its for the right reasons. Thank God I’m a Mortal Kombat enthusiast, because if I hadn’t been, I wouldn’t be able to relay this message to you. I’d simply sit here, and review a movie that had way too many characters, errors, and CGI malfunctions. Oh wait, I just did that. Whoops.
B.B.

Leprechaun 4: In Space (1997)

Leprechaun 4: In Space (1997)

Written By: Dennis Pratt

Directed By: Brian Trenchard-Smith

Starring: Brent Jasmer, Debbe Dunning, Wawrick Davis

Country of Origin: United States of America

The Idea:
Don’t even think twice about how this makes it into sequel month. I know you might be saying: “Well I never saw the first three Leprechaun films, so how will I know what’s going on?” Allow me to give you a little bit of advice: I DID see the first three Leprechaun movies, and I STILL don’t know what the fuck to make of Leprechaun 4: In Space, a movie so awful that it defies necessity for the first three films in this lackluster series about an evil little golden fiend.

Rather than waste your time (and mine, frankly) on explaining the legacy of the Leprechaun, I’m just going to get right down to it. The movie starts with (as John LaBarbera dubbed them) Space Marines on a search and destroy mission for the evil Leprechaun who has captured an alien princess while in search of his gold. The Space Marines are led Major Metal Head Hooker, whose sole purpose in this film, other than to have a metal plate where his brain should be, is to perform the most unintentional comic relief in any movie in this series. All these folks are trying to rescue the Princess Zarina, who is considering a marriage proposal from the Leprechaun given that he has money, and, as best we can tell, a steady job (killing and rhyming counts, right?). But, if I forgot to mention it, the Space Marines are also working for a lab scientist known as Dr. Mittenhand, whose first appearance in the film is as a disembodied head. He’s actually part robot as well (why is the future always about fucking robots) and he later turns into a giant spider. Any questions thus far? I didn’t think so.

Once the first of what is many showdowns occurs, the Marines score a victory and blow Leprechaun to bits. They take an indisposed Princess Zarina onboard their spacecraft for “further examination,” but not before one of the lunk-heads begins to urinate on Leprechaun’s body. Taking revenge (sort of), Leprechaun beams his life force into the Marine’s dick and doesn’t reappear until that Marine is going to get down and dirty, and he suffers death from, well, a Leprechaun emerging from his schlong. Now that has to be one of the worst ways to go: your penis sprouts a little man determined to kill you AND steal your wallet. Interesting role reversal considering most things that shoot out of cocks give life, not take it away.

It doesn’t take long for us to understand that the only compotent soldiers on this vessel are Sticks (Miguel A. Nunez, Jr. from The Return of the Living Dead), Staff Sergeant Brooks Malloy and his love interest, Dr. Tina Reeves. Luckily, love, among other things, are not allowed to blossom so freely as complete and utter mayhem ensue. Zarina is awaking from her slumber to find an equally seedy character at her side, as it appears that Dr. Mittenhand wants to use her scar tissue for its incredibly fast regenerating power. Did I not mention that before? That’s because it’s the first time it was mentioned in the film. You know, you’ve got 90 minutes, you could take time to explain things if you really wanted to.

Our cast spends most of the remainder of this movie finding new and interesting ways to get killed. One crew member has his radioactive suit slashed open in a radioactive waste area, leading to the world’s scariest flesh-eating bacteria killing you in less than 15 seconds. Another crew member attempts to negotiate with Leprechaun while he sings “Danny Boy.” His fate is underneath a giant Lego piece. Even the females are shown no mercy, as one is plunged to a death scene that would make Boris Karloff in The Ape (1940) blush. Life can’t get much worse for the majority of the characters in this movie, considering that they’re all bound to die in an often gruesome and comical fashion.

However, there are some characters in this movie that find themselves in a fate worse than death before, well, impending doom. I’ve already told you about Mittenhand’s astoundingly pointless transformation into Mittenspider, but I may not have told you about Metal Head’s reincarnation. When Zarina reunites with the Leprechaun as a deadly duo, she promises them a death sentence, which, on her home planet, is indicative of a showing of her fun bags. Soon after, Metal Head is reprogrammed to work for the despicable duo as a cross-dressing, nunchuck-wielding maniac with a penchant for disco dancing. Sometimes, I wish I could be this creative. I mean really, did someone throw darts at a board of concepts and determine to write it into the script.

Eventually (and I do mean very, very eventually), the three aforementioned characters and even Zarina unite against Leprechaun in an effort to stop the blasphemy and madness (and SPARTA) that he spreads. Their plan was to blow him up, but it backfires from the start as he becomes a huge, barely mobile menace. Luckily for them, he’s also comfortably near a blast hatch that sends him exploding into space. The final sequence of the movie shows a giant middle finger (pre-Mooninites) disrespecting the surviving Space Marines. Charming, really.


Member of the crew who should’ve been fired:
Guy Siner, the incredibly disturbing mind behind the character Dr. Mittenhand (Mittenspider as well) has got to be performing for less dollars than he has hair on his head (read: he’s bald). Siner drifts from creepy to comical with an electrical range of 1.21 giga watts, and not once do we even care about his fate. In fact, I’d like nothing more than to sock him in his melon fucking head for being such a total and complete waste of reels.

Best Name in the Cast:
Like with all Leprechaun films, Warwick Davis might be the only reason we watch these steaming piles of manure. His soliloquies, rhyming, and general glee for playing such a bizarre, tiny little character with big aspirations would make any “little man” story seem like a giant undertaking. That, and he was an Ewok. Don’t fuck with the Ewoks.

Quote of the Film:

“And what part of her anatomy is she gonna kill me with?” -Sticks, in response to being handed an alien death sentence that involved the showing of breasts.

Final Thoughts:
Ridiculous. It’s the one word I’ve avoided using for this entire review, but that is exactly what this flick is. It is without a doubt one of the, if not the most ridiculous films in the history of cinema and may well be a collector’s item in any movie enthusiast’s collection. If you don’t believe me, let’s just review: we’ve got a leprechaun, space marines, a giant robotic scientist who morphs into a giant cyborg-spider, exploding dicks, a leprechaun-based safety video, flesh-eating bacteria so powerful that it reduces you to a bag of bones in less than 15 seconds, every sound effect from the Doom video game series, alien boobs, a cross-dressing metal-plated marine, and more jokes about dicks than the average dick joke loving human being can withstand. Even the name of the film, Leprechaun 4: In Space, makes me throw up my hands and say “What the fuck?” Was the colon necessary? Would anyone have thought the less of this movie if the “In Space” part was left out? Who will think of the children? Won’t somebody please think of the children!
B.B.

Night of the Demons 2 (1994)

Night of the Demons 2 (1994)

Written By: Joe Augustyn

Directed By: Brian Trenchard-Smith

Starring: Bobby Jacoby, Amelia Kinkade, Zoe Trilling

Country of Origin: United States of America

The Idea:
For what its worth, I love Night of the Demons. The campy nature of the film mixed in with all of the 80’s horror schlock surrounding it made it something quite unique. It managed to avoid being the “same old shit” style of film, and instead created its own tier of film that had seemingly not been duplicated: until Night of the Demons 2 graced the silver screens. Written by Joe Augustyn yet again, the second installment in the Angela saga (do I have a fixation on the name Angela or what?) provides us with a great back story on the whole demonic house idea and also gives us a great body count with some terribly funny, if unintentional moments.

We pick up in a non-descript catholic coed school that happens to house numerous young (though they look about thirty), vivacious teens, all of which know far too much about the story of Hull House. This school, run by Father Bob and the world’s most awesome nun, Sister Gloria, is about to have a wonderful little school dance. Can you guess where this whole shindig is headed? I bet you could, given that this film seems to be following in the footsteps of the original perfectly. However, there is one glaring difference: our story now include Melissa, dubiously nicknamed Mouse, a girl at this wonderful private school for the troubled who just so happens to be Angela’s sister. She’s having nightmares, but given the kind of shit she puts up with during the day, I’d pray for awful fucking nightmares, too.

All of the kids, with very, very few, exceptions, are assholes. In fact, if you had to pick a protagonist, you’d be safe to stick with Mouse and damn the rest from the start. Perhaps only Sister Gloria, who, if I neglected to mention it, wields a yardstick like a broadsword, is as worthy of absolution in this peach of a plot. We have a couple of girls who clearly are better developed than most 18-year olds, plus a couple of guys who have subscriptions to Bigguns magazine. Then, if that’s not enough, there’s a nerdy little henchman who is way too into the idea of satanic ritual. If they ended the movie by blowing the fucking school up, they might be making a utilitarian decision.

Back to the movie, which, by this point, is about to breakout into total anarchy. Poindexter (actual name Perry) has decided to channel the spirit of Angela with a satanic ritual of his own, and sure enough, it works. And, sure enough, as if life wasn’t a bucket of shit already, they’re all going to party at Hull House, where, as you’re already well aware, Angela will be waiting for them. They’ll also be abducting Mouse to conduct some sick experiments. If anything, the biggest problem this movie has is being a carbon copy of Night of the Demons. Sure, Augustyn decided to write the sequel, but it looks like all he did was write in one extra character, change the setting, and apply the same premise. I could go on forever drawing comparisons, but hey, I’ve got bigger fish to fry, like actually giving you some character names.

So, here’s the deal: Bibi (redhead) and Johnny sneak of to do each other while Kurt and Terri also explore…uh…each other. Then there’s Shirley, who has recruited two seedy looking characters to help her begin a sacrificial service on Mouse. After a joke gone wrong, we’ve got a large enough body count to finally progress to the one part of this series of movies that make them truly worthwhile: the killing! Truth be told, as sick as that sounds, the murder sequences in this movie make it a truly awesome experience due to their unique, and often depraved execution. In one sequence, a tube of lipstick forms a very phallic little snake that crawls into one of the victims, and then, if that’s not bad enough, we have breasts that morph into skin-dissolving tyrants. That’s right, Possessed Demon Titties. One More Time: POSSESSED DEMON TITTIES! There is a reason these pictures have a cult following.

Anyway, the carnage has made its way out of Hull House and back to the catholic school where several new demons go on a rampage to decimate everyone, including schmucky Father Bob, who gets the big cheer of the evening for having finally been eliminated. Luckily, just when things look their worst, Sister Gloria returns to save the day! But, it’s not just Sister Gloria, it’s a Kung-Fu black belt version of Sister Gloria that comes with a decoy removable head and a lasso necklace! Seriously, this might be one of the most incredible nuns, if not THE most incredible nun in cinema history. Her fight sequences alone make Night of the Demons 2 a worthwhile experience.

One other thing of note before I wrap all this up, is the just plain underhanded use of sexual…ANYTHING in this movie. Demon jugs, a cock shaped, beef jerky looking lipstick demon, and even, yes, demon sex and demon masturbation. Smut films aren’t usually this obvious or, hell, this smutty. If at any point you feel like you’re watching soft core cinema, then you might be right. It looks like good ol’ Joe and the rest of the crew gave up during the writing process and settled for as many blunt instruments as they could fit into a small space (that’s what she said). Things just degenerate in the film from this point, showing the weakness of this sequel as compared to the original. You know how it ends, so I’ll just leave it at a dick joke for now.

Member of the Crew who should’ve been fired:
Without a doubt, the hype surrounding the character Shirley, and the actress playing her, Zoe Trilling, is just that: hype. Trilling fails at acting, dancing, speaking in one accent, and appearing even slightly youthful. I know I’m critical, but all I ever hear about is how Zoe Trilling stole the movie. I pose this question: Did you watch it?

Best Name in the Cast:
Christine Taylor, who, while playing uber-bitch Terri during this movie, went on to bigger and better things as a regular in several of the Frat Pack movies. Oh, and in case I forgot, she’s also been immortalized as Marcia Brady. Totally awesome.

Quote of the Film:

“A kiss is a sin when it is an upper persuasion for a lower invasion.” -Sister Gloria, Teacher of the Year.

Final Thoughts:
What do people really look for in sequels? Do they want to see something that is better, or exceeds the original? Or, more likely in the horror genre, are they looking for the same old song and dance with a new crew to mutilate? I’ll take the latter, and accept that while Night of the Demons 2 is just a more pornographic version of Night of the Demons, it still manages to deliver enough flat out stupidity to live up to the Angela-namesake. I’ve recently discovered that Night of the Demons is getting remade. To anyone thinking this is a good idea, I hope a tube of lipstick rapes you in your sleep while large melons singe off your eyebrows. Pleasant Dreams!
-B.B.

The Toxic Avenger (1985)

The Toxic Avenger (1985)

Directed By: Michael Herz

Written By: Joe Ritter

Starring: Andree Maranda, Mitchell Cohen, Pat Ryan, Jr., Jennifer Babtist, Robert Prichard, Cindy Manion, Gary Schneider, Mark Torgl

Country of Origin: United States of America

The Idea:
Troma. No film company exemplifies an innate ability to reach cult status quite the way Troma does. During the 1970’s, a fledgling company started by Lloyd Kaufman and this film’s director, Michael Herz, began to churn out low-budget sex comedies that were…sophomoric at best. Granted, the term “sex comedy” really doesn’t lend itself well to upstanding, high society, but hey, that’s not the point.

When Troma broke into the 80’s, Kaufman and Herz began to move forward with their biggest story yet: a tale of a weakling pool boy who, thanks to a cruel prank, becomes a radioactive mutant monster capable of destroying evil and saving the small town of Tromaville! Introducing, in all its glory, The Toxic Avenger, a mid 80’s answer to the early superhero film, as well as a statement of dominance from a low-budget, big-aspiration movie company.

To set the record straight, The Toxic Avenger cannot be reviewed just like any old film. Sometimes, films with the “Troma Team Release” tag in front of them make an honest effort to be terrifying or serious. These films, particularly as it comes to cult status, find themselves buried in the lexicon of society. This movie is something that really symbolizes what Troma is all about: intentionally bad schlock, and damn proud of it. Whenever someone sets out to make a movie awful from the start, they realize that they’re providing the world with something truly charming even though it might be difficult to watch. So, because it served as the flagship film for Kaufman, Herz, and legions of bad movie fans, The Toxic Avenger deserves a different kind of review.

In simple terms, the story of Toxie is quite like a lot of other superheroes from the comic books. Here we have a lovable (okay, hideous) loser working the pools in the local establishment who can never catch a break. Young women borrowed from one of Russ Meyer’s dubious flicks (read: they have gigantic breasts) taunt Melvin mercilessly until one day, they, and their lunkhead boyfriends, decide that they want to play a practical joke on poor Melvin. Just as Melvin thinks he’s gonna get some action, he ends up being forced to make out with a lice-infested sheep. Life can’t get much worse for Melvin, until another accident sees him covered with toxic waste left arbitrarily out in the open. Soon, our pathetic pee wee finds himself undergoing huge genetic mutations, as he morphs into a 6-foot 4-inch general hell-bent on revenge.

Some of his first victims are smalltime crooks that die in grisly fashions. In fact, one of the calling cards of a Troma film (this being the ideal Troma film) is brutality in death. Never have I seen more characters have their heads explode, dissolve, or deteriorate to blobs in an instant, and I’m including the hundreds of “living impaired” films I’ve viewed. Anyway, as a way to rub out the criminal influx in his town, Melvin (now Toxie, though always referred to as Melvin) uses his trusty mop from his janitorial days to wipe out the enemy…literally! Think about this: a mop to the face could completely obliterate your template. Now that’s a fucking superpower! He’s equipped with sulfuric acid mops! Mr. Clean be bitchslapped.

Word begins to spread about Melvin’s antics as he continues to fight crime where the police force (crooked and corrupt cops, you know the drill) will not. Eventually, Melvin rescues a blind woman from a robbery at a local fast food restaurant. Let that sentence soak in, and you get the general obscurity we find in most every Troma film. Her name is Sara, and she moves in with Melvin at the city dump soon after the traumatizing (or is it Tromatizing) incident.

Meanwhile, the townspeople are split, some praising the monster’s heroic efforts, others lambasting him for interfering with their community as a horribly disfigured man. Sound familiar? That’s probably because through all of the bad acting, editing, directing, writing, and, well, anything else I left out (that includes you, costuming), this movie is a classic example of the superhero ideal. For every person who supports your aid, there is one to balance on the other end. It’s a realistic and tragic statement on the way people operate, but it fits perfectly for those interested in the whole “Good vs. Evil” mindset. Toxie is only so popular with the community, because if he were 100% over, then we wouldn’t need a movie. Conflict. It’s a beautiful thing.

We wander from scene to scene as often crime fighters do until Melvin/Toxie is finally absolved and accepted into the world that created him, and the narrator reveals the nickname (and subsequent title) The Toxic Avenger. Cue credits, and everyone goes home a winner.


Member of the crew who should’ve been fired: All of them. That’s the point of a Troma film. Every single member of the crew is in some way flawed and should face ten lashes, then walk the plank.

Best Name in the Cast: Marisa Tomei has a brief (about one second) cameo in this film long before she was ever discovered. Just another perk from the Troma legacy; truly films of the future!

Quote of the Film:

“Honest cops are all alike: A bunch of fucking faggots.” -Cigar Face, confidently believing he’s in the Dick Tracy universe.

Final Thoughts:
It’s too bad that most of the Tromatic Cinema following The Toxic Avenger (save for Class of Nuke ‘Em High) signaled the demise of the world’s first (and only) b-movie mainstream schlock purveyor. Sure, they still produce direct-to-video releases, but its not the same as the huge middle finger they gave Hollywood. After all, they take movies and make parodies just like we see today, the difference being that their spoofs are made like spoofs should be: low-grade, low-budget, with a heart of gold. After all the bullshit, “make a quick buck” flicks that come out every year (like say, Disaster Movie) we should at least be able to take solace in the fact that Troma had them beat long before, and with character, originality, and a mop-wielding super beast named Melvin. Sure, he would later come to be Toxie, but maybe a good Melvin is exactly what Hollywood’s unoriginal, untalented “fun bunch” needs.
-B.B.

Mortal Kombat (1995)

Mortal Kombat (1995)

Directed By: Paul W.S. Anderson

Written By: Kevin Droney (Screenplay), Ed Boon & John Tobias (Characters)

Starring: Linden Ashby, Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Robin Shou, Bridgette Wilson, Talisa Soto, Christopher Lambert

Country of Origin: United States of America

The Idea:
More often than not, filmmakers are always in a position where they have this inane desire not to be creative; to do the most predictable and least complicated idea on their slate. Hell, most of the time, they don’t even provide the ideas, rather, they understand that they can simply adapt something terribly underdeveloped into box office bank. In the last 20 years, we’ve seen movies based on board games, children’s toys, and comic books, just to name a few. However, the one medium that always seemed most suited to having a big screen adaptation was video games. After all, most gamers will tell you that they play not just for the game, but for the experience of a masterfully crafted story that delves into a new, albeit unrealistic, element of society. So why, then, do we find that most video games transferred to the big screen never have the same ferocity they did when you were holding a controller? Mortal Kombat might just have the answers.

Here we have the idea to create a movie based upon one of the most graphic and controversial video games of its time, a game that, without the hype, is button-mashing mayhem loosely tied together by a story about ninjas. The game itself was a standard one-on-one fighter that had brutal fatalities and cool power moves, but also concealed a thin overall plot with mere paragraphs about each of the original 7 playable characters as well as the 2 big bosses. In short: it seemed to be a thin premise with which to make money on in theatres. What’s worse: Two years prior to the release, Super Mario Bros. was deemed a colossal flop at the box office for steering too far from its video game inspiration, and one year after that, Street Fighter (pretty much the same premise as MK) failed miserably. Doomed to fail? It probably should have been, but somewhere along the line, Mortal Kombat learned how to make itself a pretty lucrative franchise.

When you begin watching the film, you’re expecting to see aspects of the game incorporated pretty quickly. After all, you want some accuracy for your fictional basis, right? Sure enough, we get it, within about three seconds. That beautiful Mortal Kombat theme kicks in and we open on a flaming dragon emblem, followed by dark skies and an immediate fight. The fight, taking place between Shang Tsung, MK’s first resident bad guy, and Liu Kang’s brother is as one-sided as can be. Tsung quickly disposes of him, only for us to learn that it was a Liu Kang nightmare. Damn, I already know that Kang wants revenge and has motive to fight. Good way to get that out there.

30 seconds later, we’re transported to Hong Kong, where Sonya Blade and her partner Jax are mercenaries looking to take out a criminal named Kano, who just so happens to work for Shang Tsung. If you’ve played the games, you already understand one important factor of this film: its completely accurate. The game characters rarely had much story early on, so they only had one or two instinctual urges. Those urges are quickly being fulfilled as the movie progresses. From Hong Kong, we hit Los Angeles, where Johnny Cage is an action star trying to abandon a “fake” image. We know our main characters, each of which has reason enough to want to explore the tournament they have all been invited to compete in. Makes me wonder why Mortal Kombat isn’t an Olympic sport. I mean really, a gold medal for ripping your competitor’s spine out? Well worth the price of admission.

Eventually, all of our fighting protagonists (save for Jax, who is a complete pussy in this film) end up on a boat, traveling to an island for the competition. They are joined by Raiden, and challenged rapidly by Scorpion, Sub-Zero, and Shang Tsung. Both Tsung and Raiden act more as guardians throughout the battles rather than actual fighters, leaving their lower fighters to do the competing. Raiden explains, quite simply, that his good heroes must win the tournament. Sure, there’s a massive history lesson about the tournament, but it isn’t as important as the goal: win the tournament. At this point, only about 25-30 minutes into the film, we have completely explained what Mortal Kombat (game and movie) is all about. Now, all we have left to do is fight.

And, believe it or not, there is a lot of very well choreographed and unique fighting. Each battle is distinctly unique, and manages to incorporate traditional MK locales (like The Pit in the finale) and grapplers with the storyline. Sure, there are any number of fictional warriors that drop off faster than a red shirt, but there’s also a letter-perfect amount of characters that have, you know, purpose. All of the original MK characters are included, even the massive, four-armed Goro, who is a make-up and special effects marvel for 1995. Hell, even Reptile makes an appearance in his green-masked form to battle Liu Kang. In total, there are 10 MK 1 fighters in the movie and (if you include a special cameo by the Emperor at the end of the film) 3 from MK 2, so it keeps true to the origins of Kombat pretty closely.

This is not to say that this movie doesn’t deal with any number of flaws. I mean, first of all, we’re led to believe that all of these humans are completely copasetic with the idea of traveling to an undisclosed location on the map and compete in a tournament that could mean the end of your eternal flame. Did they sign a release waiver? How is this tournament not sponsored by Pepsi, MetLife, or Goodyear? What, no live TV coverage on ESPN?

As if our characters inability to show even the slightest sense of reason or logic isn’t bad enough, there is a great deal of mentions of parallel universes and alternate planes of reality. I am referring, of course, to the inclusion of an area known as “Outworld,” where the Emperor (Shao Kahn for all you nerds out there) resides and where chaos roams the streets. It is designed to be a polar opposite of the real world, yet has all the makings of any town on the verge of total chaos. After all, dilapidated buildings accompanied by streetwalkers and fire just don’t have that same “hell on earth” feel they once did. So how do you get to Outworld? Well, that’s easy. You simply step inside a giant wormhole until you are engulfed by something that appears to be silly putty until you are beamed (at the speed of light mind you) to a portal of another realm. Kiss my ass, reality, I can step into a giant blob, shoot through a gigantic intestine and into East Compton. What now?

However, if there is any problem in this movie that can’t be overlooked, its Goro’s death. Here we have a supposed 8-foot tall (more like 7, by the way), four-armed Shokan with the ability to rip apart any two-armed mortal. Despite this knowledge (and his age, hundreds of years by the time of this tournament), Goro moronically falls into trap after trap that Johnny Cage lays for him, including a nutcracker suite and a perilous plunge off of a cliff. How, after hundreds of dominant outings could you be this idiotic? Were you raised under power lines?

Once Goro is eliminated, Shang Tsung is left with few alternatives and time is running out. Considering you already know that this film had a sequel, our ending at least leaves us with something a little less inconclusive than the games would have. Oh yeah, and the world’s most obvious sequel setup sequence. I really can’t wait to tell you how bad Mortal Kombat: Annihilation was, because it made this decent (but not overwhelming) action flick look like an Academy Award Winner.


Member of the crew who should’ve been fired: If anyone, its Gregory McKinney, who plays Jax for about a cup of coffee in this movie. Yes, Jax Briggs returns in the sequel to this particular movie (review coming soon!), but he’s definitely not played by this butcher, who is incapable of not just human emotion, but ability to do anything but scream to Sonya. You’re are a large, black man who will eventually have steel arms. DO SOMETHING YOU CLOTZ!

Best Name in the Cast: Linden Ashby, better known as the show-stealing Johnny Cage. If you’ve ever had your doubts about the MK fighters not having any personality, then you clearly missed how Ashby portrays the perfect chauvinist capable of mass destruction with his fists, and, in real life, he’s actually trained in Tae Kwon Do and Karate.

Quote of the Film:

“A handful of people on a leaky boat are gonna save the world?” -Sonya Blade, summarizing our premise.

Final Thoughts:
This movie does a very smart job of executing what a Mortal Kombat film should be. Paul W.S. Anderson went on to write and direct for the Resident Evil franchise, thus making him huge bank for decent scripts, and while the writing and dialogue is shoddy in parts, they know better than to just leave you hanging in the general scope. Actually, MK feels more like a nod to Enter the Dragon than it does a freestanding film, given the obvious similarities in twists, fights, and settings. I would highly recommend watching them back to back if you want some good, generic kung-fu style action without all the deep, moral, and most importantly logical thinking, because in the end, this movie was based upon a video game. If its deep, moral, and logical, I’d rather shove the controller up someone’s ass than mash the buttons.
B.B.

Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things (1972)

Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things (1972)

Written By: Benjamin “Bob” Clark

Directed By: Benjamin “Bob” Clark

Starring: Alan Ormsby, Jane Daly, Anya Ormsby, Jeffery Gillen, Paul Cronin, Valerie Mamches, Seth Sklarey

Country of Origin: United States of America

The Idea:
Lately, I’ve taken a new interest in discussing films that were made solely to capitalize off of a picture that “revolutionized” the industry. In the horror genre, there are a good 10-15 different flicks that can be deemed revolutionary. And, in the wake of their release and success, there are more than 9000 clones waiting to make a quick buck off of their success. The same can honestly be said for any genre of film. Just look at the last decade. When The Ring made it big domestically, producers scrambled to adapt as many horror films as they could from Japan. Even that style of filmmaking, adding different views, colors, and even length, to a film (thank you very much Gore Verbinsky) was the focal point of copycats nationwide. Look at the Saw franchise. Is gore more important than a thrills and spills? How about the world outside of horror? I mean, The Watchmen is supposedly a novel that can’t possibly be filmed…or at least that was the theory ten years ago. You know, before X-Men and Spider-Man made a huge impact.

So what does it all mean? Well, when dealing with a picture like Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things, you have to recognize that this zombie-esque satire was made just a few years after the monumental Night of the Living Dead, and, in recognizing this, you need to know that the only thing that can save it from being just another clone is a different and unique approach. Enter Benjamin “Bob” Clark, our writer and director. When he created this cinematic gem, little did we know what was on the horizon, but I’ll get to all of that a little later. For now, let’s just sit back and enjoy (or valiantly attempt to enjoy) Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things.

Open on the most incoherent man on Earth who, not surprisingly, gets eaten. Cue green slime opening credits. Already I know that I’m watching a film that would’ve played during an Unrated MST3K. The majority of the beginning of this movie is really hard to watch. There’s a lot of characters shuffling about, moving things around in an all-too-boring fashion, and if all that wasn’t nauseating enough, we have to listen to the inner sounds of the small intestine as our soundtrack. Luckily, we’re broken out of our deliberate coma by a foghorn, and more dark visuals. After roughly five minutes of this nonsense, we get our plot, setting, and characters in all of thirty seconds.

Alan, the leader of the pack, sports a killer Van Dyke and plans to dig up a dead body in a secluded graveyard next to a cottage. Alan’s a director of a small theatre group, and also, a gigantically homosexual pervert. Even though he hits on his newest acting member, Valerie, he’s still a flaming bag of asses. Alan leads his group of “children” through the dark woods and to the graveyard for this insidious, if not entirely unexplained, plot. The score of the film hasn’t improved any from scene to scene. Is this the woods, or fucking Jurassic Park? By the way, it might be important to note that every character is playing themselves. That’s right, the names haven’t been changed to protect the innocent. Rather, they remained the same to confound the imaginative. But hey, Writer Bob Clark was just spreading his wings with this hunk-o-junk.

After fifteen minutes (no joke, fifteen!) of walking through the world’s lamest ambiance while Alan narcissistically fellates himself, we finally make it to the cottage/dig site. I want to let it be known that I’m bored out of my mind right now. If this was intense and thrilling in 1972, then somebody should repeatedly fist 1972 until they find it’s spine. Thus far, no character, especially not Uncle Alan Assclown, has made themselves socially redeemable. What keeps me watching is the hope (and pretty much guarantee) that they’ll all be eaten in the next hour. As of right now, all we have is children. Children who are actually well prepared for any “mishaps” that may occur during the night. Where are my dead things?

Turns out Alan is harboring a secret from his theatre troop. Looks like he wants to conduct a little satanic ritual on the dead rather than just grave rob them. How sentimental! Alan explains himself and his intentions so homosexually that he makes Liberache look like a womanizer. Soon enough, they dig up a corpse only to find that it is part of a cruel trick Alan has masterfully crafted. What a douche this guy is. Alan planted his other cohorts in full zombie garb to scare his friends, and apparently it works. FIVE times good ol’ fat man Jeffery announces that he peed his pants. Does he want a bronze medal for pissing himself?

Anyway, even through all of the practical jokes, Alan actually has a real corpse to perform satanic experiments on. Why do people follow this guy? I mean really, what the fuck? Okay, I’ll try and go beyond all this stupidity, and back to the story. Alan’s best efforts to invoke Satan have failed, and now, he’s cursing the very thing he just embraced as we still lack any moving corpses. Instead, we have dissention in the ranks as the children call Alan out on his douchebaggery. Luckily, we have satirical summoning of the dead as well in an attempt to patronize Alan the Impetuous. Eventually, we learn that the gang has taken “Orville,” their corpse of reality back to the cabin where they can defile it in many ways non-sexual. Rule 1 of Zombie Movies: Don’t desecrate the dead. They hate that.

During these sequences, the film actually shows flashes of brilliance. We’ve spent an inordinate amount of time up until this point waiting for something good, and we finally get it with strong dialogue amongst the characters and some genuine chills from the impending doom in the graveyard. Yes, while it was poorly executed for most of the film, it looks like we might finally shatter through the glass ceiling if only we could get to the point in the express lane. Sadly, by the time it all comes to a boiling point, the intrigue has faded away. The Evil Dead is vaguely similar in these scenes, but the difference was that the doom hit early and hit often. Here, the doom is as lifeless and stiff as Orville.

Face it, you know what happens from this point on. The dead come back (finally) and take down the living one by one. Problem is, we simply don’t care. We only really want to see what becomes of King Alan the Douche, so the rest is all window dressing and high frequency noises. Thank God for a (if not all too predictable) payoff.


Member of the crew who should’ve been fired: The Sound/Music editor on the film needs to be killed. His use of EVERY STOCK SOUND IN THE UNIVERSE makes me wonder: did he inherit a soundboard for his birthday and then fall asleep on top of its keys? An owl hoot has never been and will never be scary. NEVER. Bank on it.


Best Name in the Cast: Jane Daley, who plays Terry, and by that logic, is the only main character that DOES NOT play herself. What, did they cast someone named Terry (like Terry Bollea) in the roll and then have a last minute replacement? And we were too lazy to go along with our already lazy theme?


Quote of the Film:

“I’d whistle past the graveyard by my lips are afraid to be separated.” -Jeffery, ever the comedian.

Final Thoughts: Through the majority of this satirical “masterpiece” made to capitalize on a true cinematic achievement, Bob Clark buried himself worse than he buried his bland, comatose cast. Clark didn’t achieve much in this film well, but he showed signs of potential in his script writing and humor. He understood what it took to make something entertaining and funny, but he hadn’t a clue how to do it properly. That’s why Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things serves as another copycat to the George Romero lineage. Luckily, there was still hope for Bob Clark. He may have started as the apprentice, but he soon became the master. Following his work here, he went on to create the film adaptation for A Christmas Story, and then, he created his own revolution: the teen sex comedy Porky’s. Not a bad way to make a living after he helped to set new standards for sub-par schlock. After all that, you’ve got to figure that Bob had a good laugh over the fact that there were dozens of people trying to do with Porky’s exactly what he had tried to do with this picture. The moral of the story is the same here as it was in Children, in that sometimes you have to wait a long, long time to get to the good stuff, but when you do, the payoff makes you realize why you started in the first place.
B.B.