ATLAS IN THE LAND OF THE CYCLOPS (1963) **

The evil queen Capys (Chelo Alonso) sends soldiers to sack a rival city and commands them to assassinate the members of the royal family.  The king is slain, and Queen Penope (Vira Silente) is enslaved, but a dutiful aid manages to make sure their infant son escapes the city.  He then comes under the care of Maciste (Gordon Mitchell, billed as Mitchell Gordon, in his first starring role), and NOT Atlas, as advertised.  Maciste then pawns the kid off on a buddy so he can go and rescue Penope.  Naturally, Capys gets the hots for Maciste, who is more concerned about saving Penope than making time with an evil queen.

Maciste is kind of like the budget Hercules, and he performs more feats of strength than you can shake a stick at in this flick.  In addition to the ever-reliable bending prison bars and throwing boulders, he fights a lion, prevents a cave-in, lifts a fallen ox cart, carries a giant vase, and does battle with the humongous cyclops.  Too bad it feels like it takes forever until the final showdown.

Overall, Atlas in the Land of the Cyclops is an OK sword and sandal adventure.  After a good start, the film sort of dawdles once the action switches over to Capys’s palace.  Still, we get a good vestal virgin dance number out of it, so it’s not all bad.

Mitchell acts like a dolt for most of the running time, but I guess that’s sort of his shtick so that people will underestimate him.  It’s Alonso who steals the movie as the sultry Capys, but the biggest name in the cast is actually the baby.  He’s billed as “Baby Fabio”, and in case you’re wondering… yes, it’s THAT Fabio (!) making his screen debut!  He wouldn’t appear in a movie again until 1990 when he played an angel in Exorcist 3.  By that time, he was already famous for appearing on several Harlequin romance covers.  I wonder if he got the inspiration for his physique from Gordon Mitchell in this flick. 

AKA:  Maciste vs. the Cyclops.  AKA:  Monster from the Unknown World.  AKA:  Atlas Against the Cyclops.

THE LITTLE THINGS (2021) *** ½

By reviewing this, my first 2021 release of the new year, I am calling a moratorium on my Hindsight is 2020 column.  That means I should have the nominations for this year’s Video Vacuum Awards up sometime this week.  Until then, let’s dive into the crackling serial killer thriller, The Little Things. 

Denzel Washington stars as a disgraced former detective who’s been busted down to a regular patrolman in a small town.  While in the big city picking up evidence for a nothing case, he winds up seeing his old friends and co-workers.  As a gesture of goodwill, the hotshot detective (Rami Malek) who took his old job invites him to ride along on a crime scene investigation.  The old wheels start turning, and pretty soon, he starts working the case to stop a serial killer before he strikes again. 

This is an excellent showcase for Washington, who gives a powerhouse performance.  Playing above his age, he’s a little older and slower than we’re used to seeing, but he’s just as smart and determined to crack the case.  He’s especially good when he sees the ghosts of the victims pleading for help. 

Malek makes for a good foil.  He’s from the new school, but he’s smart enough to bow to Washington’s experience and knowhow when it suits the case.  They have a good rapport with one another that drives the plot forward.  We also get a fine turn by Jared Leto as the prime suspect.  He looks like a gaunt and creepy Jesus and is more successful at being slyly menacing here than he was as the Joker. 

The film is set in the ‘90s, and rightly so.  Not only was that the heyday of serial killer movies, but it was an era of no internet and DNA.  That meant cops had to catch killers using their own wits and good old-fashioned detective work. 

The Little Things is fine, absorbing stuff for about two-thirds of the way through.  The final act is sure to divide viewers, especially given the current climate.  At the risk of giving something away, I’ll only state that the film is less about catching a killer and more about living with the prospect that you might not.  Either that, or maybe you’re trying to capture a killer for all the wrong reasons.  Instead of doing it because it’s the right thing to do, you’re only doing it to help you sleep at night. 

The big confrontation is dragged out far too long.  The final scenes would’ve been just as effective even without the stuff with Leto playing mind games with Malek.  I think the symbolism of these scenes (again, I don’t want to spoil it) is a bit too on-the-nose.  Still, what comes after that scene is genuinely unnerving and has stuck with me ever since I saw it.  I highly recommended it to fans of Washington and the serial killer genre in general.

NIGHTBEAST (1982) *** ½

Director Don Dohler’s films always have a throwback sort of quality about them.  Even though they were very much a product of their time, they still felt like something that could’ve played at the drive-in in the ‘50s.  With Nightbeast, he added the allure of sex and gore, which instantly makes it more entertaining than his other movies.  In fact, this might be his Citizen Kane. 

An alien crashes his spaceship in a small Maryland town.  Almost immediately, he begins blasting the shit out of anyone that tries to make first contact with him.  The cops arrive and level the playing field by destroying his deadly ray gun, but the thing still has sharp claws and can rip people’s guts out like a knife through butter.  Adding to the police’s woes is a killer biker who is on the loose. 

You’ve got to love this movie.  The first fifteen minutes has the creature going on a rampage and shooting dozens of people with his ray gun.  Cops and local rednecks return fire, and a long shootout ensues with people getting vaporized left and right.  It’s like the Saving Private Ryan of made-in-Maryland horror movies. 

After about a half-hour or so, the pacing slows down considerably, and things become much more like your typical Don Dohler affair.  At least the scenes of gut ripping and decapitations help to liven things up whenever the plot starts flagging.  That and the rampant nudity (get a load of the blonde deputy who gets naked at the drop of a hat) ensure this is the best Dohler joint of all time. 

As you might expect, Count Gore De Vol himself, Dick Dyzel takes the acting honors.  He’s great as the perpetually drunk mayor who won’t let a little thing like an alien invasion get in the way with his political shindigs.  His death scene is a definite highlight too.

This was also the first credit for J.J. Abrams.  He did some of the music and provided sound effects for the flick.  Incredibly, he was only sixteen when he worked on Nightbeast.  I think it’s a lot more fun than The Force Awakens, that’s for sure.

STEAMBOAT BILL, JR. (1928) ***

Steamboat Bill (Ernest Torrence) is a crusty steamboat captain who receives word his long-lost son will come visit him during college break.  He is disappointed to learn that Steamboat Bill, Jr. (Buster Keaton) is a meek, scrawny, and bookish lad.  Complicating matters is the fact that Junior’s college sweetheart (Marion Bryon) just so happens to be the daughter of J.J. King (Tom McGuire), Steamboat Bill’s chief rival on the river.  Despite their differences, Junior proves himself to his old man, who eventually takes a shine to his son. 

The first forty-five minutes or so is kind of slow, but it does offer some cute moments and a handful of chuckles.  Some of the highlights include Buster getting a shave, buying a hat, and trying to break his dad out of jail.  While the story is predictable, it’s all held together by the great performance by “The Great Stone Face”, Keaton.  There’s something sweet about him impressing his stubborn father by just being himself and doing things his own way.  Their interactions are genuine too and there is considerable chemistry between Keaton and Torrence. 

There’s also a touching humanity to Keaton’s pratfalls.  These scenes aren’t just meant to get a laugh.  They’re very much a part of the character. 

Of course, the iconic scene is when a house falls on top of Keaton, but he just so happens to be standing where the open window is, and it never touches him.  This scene has been copied so many times over the years that it’s amazing that the original version still holds up so well.  Equally impressive, though not nearly talked about, is the part where Keaton is clinging to a tree for dear life when it’s uprooted and goes flying through the air with him still attached.  The scenes of hurricane devastation with buildings being blown away are extremely well done and the part where he tries to run against the wind is funny too.  These sequences make up for some of the hiccups that occur in the first two acts.   

In short, I can’t say Steamboat Bill, Jr. is quite as good as The General, but it’s still worth checking out. 

DEADLINE (1984) *** ½

Stephen Lessey (Stephen Young) is a popular horror writer who is constantly pressured to top himself, so he comes up with wilder and sicker stories to scare his readers.  Many object to his tasteless material, but he is steadfast that he is providing his readers a public service.  Meanwhile, his marriage is crumbling, his kids are becoming a handful, and he is possibly having a breakdown.  When tragedy strikes his family, his world further spirals out of control.    

The choppy narrative is the only real stumbling block to this otherwise dark, depressing, and deranged horror thriller.  The vignettes that represent Lessey’s stories intrude (sometimes violently) on the scenes of his work, family, and marital strife.  The continuous shifting focus is meant to throw the audience off guard and keep them on their toes, but it sometimes makes for a frustrating viewing experience.

The bottom line is that these sequences are often insane, bizarre, and deeply disturbing.  A woman is killed by a shower that shoots blood, a pregnant mother is murdered by her own fetus in the delivery room, and kids tie up and set fire to their clueless old grandmother.  The best sequence is when an evil Nazi scientist uses punk rock music to blow up homeless people. 

Deadline is uneven to be sure.  Nevertheless, it’s sort of fascinating.  The film is obviously an anti-horror statement, as it blames real-life tragedy squarely on horror movies and the people who make them.  Because of that, they use every sick trick in the book to prove their point and shock you, and I have to admit, it works. 

This is one ugly and mean-spirited movie.  The senseless depictions of children dying are especially a bit much.  However, the way director Mario Azzopardi pulls out all the stops is really something to behold.  While depraved and reprehensible, Deadline has a number of shocking moments.  They are low blows to be sure, but they’re effective, nevertheless.  The final act is a depressing headlong plunge into despair and degeneracy, the depths of which few films plumb. 

It’s been a while since a movie made me jump.  It’s been even longer since one actually shocked me.  Deadline did both.  Because of that, I just have to tip my hat to it, even if it does play dirty. 

DOC SAVAGE: THE MAN OF BRONZE (1975) ****

You know, even in 1975, Doc Savage:  The Man of Bronze probably felt dated and cheesy.  It’s an unabashed throwback to the pulp adventures of the ‘30s.  It was not a hit when it was released, but looking at it now, it’s a refreshing change of pace next to the dreary, self-important, and “dark” superhero movies of the modern era. 

Speaking of superheroes, it’s hard to imagine what they would be like today if it hadn’t been for Doc Savage.  You see, Doc lived in a fortress of solitude before Superman, had a swanky secret hideout that I’m sure Batman modeled his Batcave on, and picked up on bad vibrations long before Spider-Man and his “Spider-Sense”.  He even has some pretty cool gadgets that I’m sure would make James Bond envious.  (There are some cheesy ones too, like the “Extinguisher Globes” that are nothing more that high-powered snowballs.) 

Doc Savage (Ron Ely) learns his father has been murdered in a jungle.  Along with his team of multi-talented war buddies, “The Fabulous Five”, he sets out to find his father’s killer.  He winds up tangling with the evil Captain Seas (Paul Wexler) and finds himself on a path to a lost city of gold.    

This is the kind of flick that I enjoy.  It’s square but sincere.  Cheesy but straight-faced.  Action sequences involve a Red Baron-style dogfight, glowing snake attacks, and a Kung Fu battle in which all the names of the fighting styles appear at the bottom of the screen.  I had a big grin on my face the whole damn time. 

You pretty much know what you’re in for during the opening credits when Ely looks at the camera and winks with a twinkle in his eye.  Not many people could pull that feat off:  Simultaneously winking at the camera and playing it with complete sincerity.  Ely is certainly one of them.  I guess it was all those years wearing a loincloth as Tarzan that prepared him for it.

The supporting cast is good too.  We have Paul Gleason as Doc’s right-hand man, Michael Berryman (making his film debut) as a coroner, William Katt as an assassin, and Robert Tessier as a henchman.  It’s the ladies in the cast who are the most memorable.  Robyn Hilton, who was just in Blazing Saddles as Mel Brooks’ secretary the year before, looks amazing as the bad guy’s arm candy, and Buck Rogers’ Pamela Hensley (a childhood crush of mine) is stunning as Doc’s sexy jungle guide.

To some, Doc may be a square hero as he doesn’t drink or smoke (and is apparently celibate), but I for one appreciated his old-fashioned value system.  The themes by John Phillip Sousa on the soundtrack highlights not only the throwback nature of the film, but also the rah-rah jingoism of the old timey adventure novels and movies.  I guess people in the ‘70s were just too jaded to have a fucking good time.

Another way it was a forerunner to modern-day comic book movies:  It sets itself up for a sequel at the end.  Sadly, we never got another Doc Savage adventure.  Shane Black has been talking up a new version for years starring The Rock, which would be spot-on casting if you ask me.  Whether or not we get a 21^st Doc Savage adaptation I can’t say.  Until then, this awesome adventure should tide us over.

THE TAKING OF BEVERLY HILLS (1991) *** ½

Director Sidney J. Furie’s The Taking of Beverly Hills sat on the shelf for over two years, but even when it was finally released, it still emerged as one of the earliest examples of a Die Hard in a _______ movie.  This time, instead of Die Hard in a building, we have Die Hard in a… Beverly Hills.  That means when it comes time for the big car chase, the hero drives a Rolls Royce instead of the typical muscle car.  If you can’t already tell, this thing is fucking classy.

Ken (The Soldier) Wahl stars as a football player named Boomer.  When a tanker truck overturns and causes a major chemical spill, Beverly Hills is evacuated.  Boomer didn’t get the memo because he was locked in his luxurious mansion soaking in his hot tub.  The chemical spill is just a cover so a bunch of dirty cops can loot and pillage Beverly Hills.  Naturally, this leads to the typical “Wrong Guy at the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time” scenario, and Boomer must team up with a bumbling cop (Matt Frewer) to bring down the bad guys. 

The Taking of Beverly Hills is enormously entertaining as far as this sort of thing goes.  The direction is capable, the action is non-stop, the pacing is brisk, and lots of stuff blows up real good.  The thing that puts it over the top is the incredible cast.  We have Robert Davi as the villain, Lee Ving as his henchman, and Harley Jane Kozak as the love interest.  Wahl is in his element as the hero who utilizes his football skills to combat the bad guys.  (“I’m a master at moving downfield… and they don’t know I’m in the game!”)  He uses tackling dummies to toss bad guys out of windows, runs down Rodeo Drive past gunmen like he’s avoiding the opposing team’s defense, and tosses bombs into speeding cars like he’s throwing Hail Mary passes.  He also has a spectacular mullet. 

In short, Boomer is a Video Vacuum kind of guy.

The big stumbling block is Frewer as the comic relief tagalong sidekick.  I’m usually a big Frewer fan, but he’s pretty annoying and his quips aren’t very funny.  He should’ve been relegated to the sidelines (to keep the football theme going) and Wahl should’ve flown solo on this one.  I think it would’ve made for a tighter picture. 

Frewer’s annoying character aside, The Taking of Beverly Hills is a gloriously dumb, ridiculously entertaining good time.  It may be derivative, but it’s just so goofy that it’s hard not to enjoy it.  Look, you’re either the kind of person who wants to see Ken Wahl carrying Ninja stars around in a designer handbag and tossing them into bad guys while Faith No More’s “Epic” blares on the soundtrack, or you aren’t.

Wahl only made one more picture before retiring from acting in the late ‘90s.  Shortly thereafter, he went on to marry one of the Barbi Twins and devoted much of his time to charity work.  I wish he was still making movies like this, but it seems like he is busy living his best life, and I can respect that.  I wish him all the best.    

IDENTITY THIEF (2013) * ½

I’m sure buried somewhere down deep is a fine actress, but for the most part, Melissa McCarthy is often typecast as abrasive, annoying, and obnoxious loudmouth characters.  The box office receipts prove that there is an audience for her brand of humor, but I find her usual screen persona to be off-putting and unfunny.  Identity Thief did not make me a convert. 

Jason Bateman stars as a family man whose credit, job, and life is ruined by an identity thief (McCarthy).  When the cops prove to be ineffectual, he travels to Florida to find her and bring her before the authorities.  Naturally, she’s also wanted by a gang of criminals, which puts a definite crimp in their road trip. 

Directed by Seth Gordon (who also worked with Bateman in the much better Horrible Bosses), Identity Thief gets off to a decent start.  There is something sort of satisfying about turning the tables on someone who did you wrong, and that idea could’ve made for a pretty funny movie.  Sadly, after about a half-hour, that plotline is dropped as the film turns into a road movie with Bateman and McCarthy dodging bad guys, bounty hunters, and the police.

Most of the time, we are subjected to McCarthy’s painfully unfunny antics, which is the major dealbreaker.  The long scenes of she and Bateman driving are unbearable (especially when she sings along with the radio).  Bateman gets one or two laughs from his exasperated looks and/or throwaway insults, but he’s basically more of an audience surrogate than a real character.  It’s also a shame to see the always lovely Amanda Peet being wasted in the typical wife role.

Things really fall apart when the movie tries to make you feel sorry for McCarthy’s character.  She’s a thief and a fraud who ruined our hero’s life and all of a sudden, they expect us to sympathize with her?  There’s no way I could possibly identify with this thief.  Ha.  See what I did there?

HUNTER’S BLOOD (1986) ***

Sam Bottoms, Clu Gulager, and his hunting buddies take city boy Joey Travolta out into the woods on a deer hunting trip in this entertaining Deliverance clone.  Along the way, they anger some local rednecks in a bar and get into a brawl.  Once in the woods, they are attacked by a tribe of inbred hillbillies who use the woods as their private poaching ground.  They try to pick the hunting party off one by one until Sam digs deep and turns the tables on those backwoods loonies.

Hunter’s Blood suffers from some erratic pacing and deliberate stalling tactics.  However, the cast is so great that you can easily savor their presence even when the movie is spinning its wheels.  The villains are especially well-cast.  Any inbred crew that contains Billy Drago, Bruce Glover, and Mickey Jones is one to watch out for.  We also have the great Charles Cyphers as the ringleader who works at a meat packing plant, and there’s even Billy Bob Thornton making his film debut in a blink-and-you-miss-it appearance. 

I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Joey Travolta.  He should’ve been at least half as huge as his brother John.  He delivers a great performance as the clueless city putz who’s in way over his head. 

Sure, it may be a tad overlong, but the deaths are pretty gruesome.  Some moments resemble an Italian cannibal movie are there are severed heads, skinned bodies, and a great exploded head gag.  The scenes of Sam Bottoms going all kinds of Rambo on a bunch of character actors in the wilderness are enormously crowd-pleasing too.

Besides, how many times do you get to see Clu Gulager defending Joey Travolta’s honor from the likes of a horny Billy Drago?

Also noteworthy:  The soundtrack, which is composed by Hamilton, Joe Frank, and… uh… Weber?  Remember Hamilton, Joe Frank, and Reynolds of “Don’t Pull Your Love” fame?  Well, Reynolds must’ve pulled his love out on the band by this time in their career as he’s nowhere to be found.  Let me tell you something:  Weber is no Reynolds.  I guess Hamilton and Joe Frank COULD’VE gone on as a duo, but they realized they were nothing without that third name on the marquee.

Although the cast is packed with lots of big names, it is Ken Swofford who has the best line of the movie.  While pontificating on the importance of hunting and masculinity, he says, “A man’s gotta feel his balls!” 

WOLFMAN (1979) * ½

Colin (Earl Owensby, who also produced) receives word his long-estranged father has died.  He returns home to get his deceased dad’s affairs in order.  While staying in the house, a Satanic priest (Ed Grady) curses him to become a werewolf.  The poor dope then goes around during the full moon, changing into a wolf and killing people before eventually he and the sinister priest tangle mano y wolf-o. 

Wolfman seems like a low budget, regional, American attempt to do the same thing Paul Naschy was doing with his Waldemar Daninsky werewolf movies.  It’s a period piece with old school werewolf make-up and transformation scenes.  This wouldn’t be the worst idea if it wasn’t so fucking dull. 

The make-up design is decent.  It resembles Naschy’s werewolf, except the hair is a bit more trimmed and slicked back.  The transformation scenes aren’t bad either, but they do feel a bit rushed, so you can’t really savor them.  The attack scenes are OK too. 

So, what’s the problem?  It’s extremely slow moving.  While the wolfman shenanigans are kinda fun, they are a long time coming.  The droning soundtrack and the long-winded dialogue scenes will probably put your ass to sleep long before Owensby starts sprouting hair. 

In the meantime, you have to deal with a lot of amateurish acting.  Owensby is particularly bad in the lead.  He seems more like a slow-witted county bumpkin than a lycanthropic leading man.

Not only are the transformation scenes rushed, but so is the climax.  The big confrontation takes place in an attic where the werewolf and evil priest square off.  Naturally, the idiot chose to go toe to back paw with the guy just as the moon is on the rise.  Adding insult to injury is the fact that the moon is played by a spotlight in this scene.  You know a werewolf movie is cheap when they can’t even afford to put the actual moon in there.

Writer/director Worth Keeter (who collaborated with Owensby several more times) later went on to direct erotic thrillers like Illicit Behavior and Snapdragon.

AKA:  Wolfman:  A Lycanthrope. 

HINDSIGHT IS 2020: VALLEY GIRL (2020) **

Valley Girl is one of my favorite ‘80s teen comedies of all time.  When I heard there was going to be a musical remake, I wasn’t surprised.  I mean, that shit has been going on since Hairspray.  What I didn’t realize until I started watching it was that it doesn’t contain any original music.  Instead, the cast sing ‘80s songs that have been shoehorned into the narrative.  I guess that would be okay if it all didn’t look and feel like an overlong Old Navy commercial.

Even though it’s set in 1983, the attempts to make it feel like a period piece are generic and/or just plain wrong.  Having the movie take place the same year the original film came out was a nice touch (there’s even some brief footage from the original if you know where to look), but how come nearly half of the musical selections are from 1984 or later?  There’s even a scene where the asshole boyfriend of the piece tries to woo the Valley Girl (Jessica Rothe, from Happy Death Day) by doing a “promposal”, which if anyone who lived through the decade can attest, definitely wasn’t a thing in the ‘80s.

Also, about halfway through the movie, the songs become more and more infrequent.  It’s almost as if you can spot the exact moment the music royalties budget ran out.  It’s a shame too because when it shifts gears back into a rehash of Valley Girl, it’s nearly impossible to care about the characters since up until this point they have been portrayed with about as much depth as people in an ‘80s music video.  What made the original work so well was the colorful characters.  Here, the only thing that’s colorful about them is their wardrobe.

The plot is the same.  High school Valley Girl Julie falls for a Hollywood punk rocker named Randy (Josh Whitehouse).  Even though they are from two totally different social scenes, they manage to make their relationship work.  Eventually, peer pressure threatens to tear them apart.

One thing I did like about this version was when they sing “I Melt with You”, the theme song from the original film.  The performers are adequate, but pale in comparison to Nicolas Cage and Deborah Foreman.  Speaking of which, it was nice seeing Foreman, along with a few other stars of the original popping up in cameos.  (No Nic Cage though.)

Ultimately, it just doesn’t work.  I mean are we expected a punk rocker would sing a Madonna song at a club?  Give me a break. 

Another tip-off that the filmmakers have no idea to properly make an ‘80s movie right:  They hired Alicia Silverstone to play the all-grown-up Julie in the framing scenes.  I mean, I like Silverstone as much as the next guy, but c’mon!  She’s best known from Clueless, a film that came out in ’95.  You can’t mix ‘90s nostalgia and ‘80s nostalgia willy-nilly.  

Like, totally gag me with a spoon!

HINDSIGHT IS 2020: GUNS AKIMBO (2020) **

Skizm is the latest craze.  People watch online as two contestants battle it out to the death.  Miles (Daniel Radcliffe) is a meek internet troll who spams the Skizm message boards with comments condemning the sport.  The leader of the organization, Riktor (Ned Dennehy) tracks Miles down and forces him to be Skizm’s latest contestant by bolting guns to his hands.  To make matters worse, if Miles doesn’t kill his competitor (Samara Weaving) in twenty-four hours, Riktor will off his girlfriend (Natasha Liu Bordizzo). 

The first twenty minutes or so had me ready to abandon ship.  I have seen some annoying camerawork and erratic editing in my time, but this might’ve been the worst.  Seriously, it was like the cameraman got jacked up on Red Bull and tried to out-Sam Raimi Sam Raimi.  Meanwhile, the editor got blitzed on chocolate and Mountain Dew and cut everything to ribbons, rendering the already chaotic action sequences nearly impossible to watch. 

Thankfully, things settled down once the film entered the second act, and the rest of the action sequences were much more tolerable.  In fact, there were stretches where I thought Guns Akimbo was actually going to overcome the first act handicap and find its stride.  That was mostly due to Radcliffe’s inspired harried performance.  Unfortunately, things got increasingly dumb as the movie went down the homestretch. 

The plot (which is essentially The Running Man Meets Upgrade Meets Nerve) is already thin, and the points writer/director James Lei (Deathgasm) Howden makes are obvious at best and painfully stupid at worst.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t been so in your face with the camerawork and editing.  The sequences where Howden tries to make the action resemble a video game are particularly idiotic and look like Scott Pilgrim vs. the World remade as a shoot ‘em up. 

I wanted to like it, but it was just ultimately too dumb for its own good.  How dumb?  Well, at one point, when a bad guy threatens Weaving with a hammer, they play “Super Freak” on the soundtrack.  I mean, shouldn’t they be playing “U Can’t Touch This” (you know, “Stop!  Hammer time!”) and not the song it sampled from?  That’s just a sterling example of how fundamentally misguided the whole thing is. 

THE INVISIBLE ASSASSIN (1965) **

The Invisible Assassin was written by the dynamic team of Rene Cardona Sr. and Rene Cardona Jr., with Sr. handling the directorial duties.  As much as I like the Cardona family, this is not up to snuff with their nuttier works.  It was released in America as Neutron Traps the Invisible Killers, but it doesn’t feature the character of Neutron at all.  Instead, we have “The Golden Mask”, an obvious attempt to cash in on El Santo, the Silver Masked Man if there ever was one.  It’s as if you can hear Cardona saying, “Hey son, why should we have a silver masked man in our film when we can have a GOLDEN masked man?”

A scientist invents an invisibility ray.  A madman uses the ray on himself, kills the doctor, and uh… disappears.  He then goes on a crime spree, robbing banks, stealing cars, and generally causing mayhem wherever he goes.  Eventually, he sets his sights on stalking a sexy nightclub singer.  With the police powerless to find the invisible killer, the Mexican wrestler The Golden Mask arrives on the scene to lend a hand. 

The Invisible Assassin feels more like a vehicle for Ana Bertha Lepe, who plays the nightclub singer (and is apparently playing herself) than a Mexican wrestling movie.  Cardona unwisely concentrates just as much on the nightclub performances as he does the plot.  Lepe’s song and dance numbers eat up a lot of screen time and get in the way of the Mexican wrestling and sci-fi elements.  Of the SEVEN musical numbers, the only dance sequence that’s really memorable is the one where Lepe does a seductive dance in her home.  (She even has a stripper pole installed in her living room!)

Part of the problem is The Golden Mask isn’t given much to do.  You know it’s a shame when the Mexican wrestler has to compete for screen time in his own Mexican wrestling movie.  Another problem is that the part is played by an actor (Jorge Rivero, from Werewolf) and not a real luchador.  That might explain why The Golden Mask is in only one of the three wrestling matches in the film.

The effects are low-tech, but they are surprisingly solid.  The best bits include a POV shot of the invisible man waving a gun at a teller, using lipstick to write a message on a mirror, and removing our hero’s mask when he sneaks into the ring during a wrestling match.  These moments help to keep this otherwise dreary flick from being totally forgettable.  It’s a shame that the ingenuity that was put into the special effects was absent throughout the rest of the movie. 

AKA:  Neutron Traps the Invisible Killers.  AKA:  Man in the Golden Mask vs. The Invisible Assassin. 

HINDSIGHT IS 2020: THE RHYTHM SECTION (2020) ***

Blake Lively (desperately trying to shed her good girl image with no make-up, ratty hairstyle, and English accent) stars as a woman who becomes a drug-addled sex worker after her entire family dies in a terrorist bombing.  As luck would have it, a dogged reporter (Raza Jaffrey) has found the man responsible for building the bomb that murdered her family.  She tries to execute the terrorist herself, but when she fails to pull the trigger, the reporter winds up dead.  A disgraced secret agent (Jude Law) then kidnaps her and trains her to become a hitwoman so she can finally seek revenge (and find peace).

The same week the James Bond producers pushed back No Time to Die (again), they put this on Amazon Prime for free.  Like No Time to Die, its release was pushed back several times.  When it finally came out earlier this year, it was a flop.  That’s probably due to the title, which makes it sound like a fucking cello movie or something.  Unlike Bond, it’s a smaller, more personal thriller.  It’s also surprisingly tough and mean-spirited, and unexpectedly focuses just as much on grief and trauma as it does vengeance and kicking ass. 

The Rhythm Section is unassuming and easy to underestimate, but it’s got it where it counts.  That’s fitting because the heroine is the same way.  The film belongs in one of my favorite subsects of the revenge genre where the character isn’t very good at getting revenge, but slowly becomes more capable thanks to raw determination and a little luck.  You wouldn’t think Lively could pull a role like this off.  However, she equips herself nicely and has you rooting for her by the end.  The fight scenes are messy, and there’s a pretty good chase scene done in one continuous take (although the seams in the editing are quite obvious).

I could’ve done without the on-the-nose needle drops of ‘60s tunes during some of the major sequences.  They really call attention to themselves and kind of run against the grain of the film’s serious tone.  Still, The Rhythm Section has plenty of rhythm as it moves along at a steady clip and kicks plenty of ass.  Too bad it flopped.  I wouldn’t have minded seeing Lively in a sequel.

SANTO VS. DOCTOR DEATH (1973) **

A thief sneaks into a museum and vandalizes a valuable painting.  An expert is brought in to restore the work of art and deems it to be a fake.  In reality, he’s in league with the ring of thieves who plan to sell it on the black market and make a fortune.  Stymied, Interpol brings in El Santo to bring the thieves down. 

I tend to find El Santo’s non-horror and sci-fi films to be among his lesser work, and despite the great title, Santo vs. Doctor Death has only the slightest horror trappings.  The scenes of sexy women in flimsy negligees walking down hidden passageways and catacombs are about all we get.  The movie is particularly sluggish whenever our masked hero isn’t on screen.  The art heist stuff is well-filmed, but mostly dull.  The same goes for the stuff with the Interpol agents.  We do get a pretty good car chase and the helicopter vs. boat finale is well done, although it is ultimately too little too late.  The ladies in the cast are all easy on the eyes though. 

Santo vs. Doctor Death is one of the few movies El Santo made away from his native Mexico.  It is also the only film he made in Spain.  The change of scenery is a bit of a mixed blessing.  While it may be a tad on the slow side, it is one of his best-looking flicks.  The cinematography is excellent and there are moments that look like they would be right at home in a Bond rip-off.  However, El Santo is usually at his best when he was working with guys who really knew how to utilize his talents, and this Spanish crew just can’t seem to do that.

The three wrestling scenes are OK.  Like the rest of the movie, they look slicker than usual.  The bulk of them are filmed in an empty auditorium, which is surprisingly effective.  Seeing the matches taking place in a mostly black void (complete with obviously phony canned crowd sound effects) is just odd enough to make them memorable. 

AKA:  Santo Strikes Again.  AKA:  Masked Man Strikes Again.  AKA:  Dr. Death.  AKA:  The Saint vs. Dr. Death.

THE INVITATION (1975) ** ½

Invitation to Ruin has one of the greatest trailers of all time.  It has appeared on several trailer compilations over the years, which is where I first heard of it.  Apparently, the original version is a lost film.  However, its memory lives on in this XXX version, which was prepared seven years later by actor Roger Gentry, who shot new scenes, added hardcore inserts, and re-released it as The Invitation.  Despite the awesome trailer, the movie itself leaves something to be desired (although it’s unfair to judge it properly in this form), but it’s so grimy and warped that it almost works as anti-porn.

A ladies’ man named Jerry (Roger Gentry) is hired by Pulaski (Moe Weise) to act as a “talent scout” for his white slavery operation.  (“They’re not hookers!  Hookers draw the line at some point.  Not my girls!”)  Jerry’s job is to woo these unsuspecting women and lure them with the promise of marriage before they are kidnapped and sold into slavery.  Naturally, it’s only a matter of time before Jerry falls for Pulaski’s daughter (Kathy Williams).  Incensed, Pulaski forces Jerry to confront the dirty side of the business, introducing him to Moma Lupo (Bertha Bigg), the ugly, scarred, tongueless warden who conditions the girls through sex, torture, and heroin. 

The Invitation is a sometimes-despicable roughie.  It’s cheap, exploitative, and would probably only be a turn-on for the most depraved viewer.  I mean that as a compliment, believe it or not.  It takes some doing to make me shake my head in disbelief, so bravo to Gentry and company for that.

However, in this version, the narrative is often choppy and sometimes confusing as it hops back and forth between narrators.  That’s mostly due to the blending of new and old footage.  It ultimately jumps around too much to flow smoothly and seamlessly.

This wouldn’t be an issue if the hardcore scenes were steamy.  There are some memorable moments along the way, but overall, they vary wildly in quality and length.  (Some appear randomly on a TV, which is supposed to represent security footage… or something.)  The ones that work best are the three-way sequences.  (Get a load of the “sheik” in the hot tub scene.)  Even then, they aren’t all that great.  The hateful dialogue is memorable though. 

The Invitation is rough in patches, especially early on, but things perk up once the character of Moma Lupo is introduced.  The torture sequence set to the library music from Night of the Living Dead, is rather shocking and effective.  Unfortunately, it takes a nosedive in quality shortly thereafter.  If it ended a good ten minutes sooner, it might’ve skated by with a *** rating.  However, after the plot feels like it’s wrapped itself up, it continues needlessly on for another reel or so.  In fact, the climax is so shoddily edited that it should be used in film schools to teach prospective filmmakers how NOT to end a movie.

I know the trailers are usually better than the movies themselves, but I can’t help but be a little disappointed in The Invitation after having such a great trailer and all.  It’s not all bad though.  It’s just that I can’t say it works as a whole.  What I can say is that’s just mean-spirited enough to stand out from the glut of grindhouse roughies of the era.  

AKA:  Invitation to Ruin. 

SUPERZAN AND THE SPACE BOY (1973) **

A young spaceman comes to Earth to share his knowledge with mankind.  Unfortunately, the first guy he runs into is a mad scientist who wants to pervert his gifts and use it to take over the world.  It’s then up to the Mexican luchador and crimefighter Superzan to help the Space Boy and stop the mad doctor’s evil scheme. 

I’m familiar with Superzan thanks to his supporting appearances in the Blue Demon films, The Triumph of the Champions of Justice and Mansion of the Seven Mummies.  This is a rare solo outing from the Mexican wrestler.  Unfortunately, he doesn’t wrestle in this one.  To add insult to injury, he doesn’t even show up until the movie is halfway over.  Unlike El Santo or Blue Demon, Superzan is a legit superhero (at least in this movie) and can actually FLY!  The flying scenes are pretty funny as it looks like Superzan just laid horizontally on a ladder while some production assistants ran hair dryers under his cape to make it flap in the wind.

It also didn’t help that the version I saw didn’t have subtitles.  Because of that, I couldn’t exactly tell what the bad guy’s machine did.  For all I know, if anyone stands underneath of it, it miraculously gives them the ability to wear a flashy pantsuit complete with snazzy cape.  The fight scenes alternate from under-rehearsed to sloppy to downright laughable.  It almost always looks like they used the first take.

Once Superzan finally shows up, the film picks up considerably.  There’s a scene where he gets ran over by the villain’s car, but he gets right back up no worse for wear.  He also uses a freeze gun at one point.  Too bad the movie grinds to a halt whenever he isn’t on screen. 

The golden-faced Space Boy is OK, I guess.  He speaks telepathically, which leads to lots of scenes of people standing around while echo-y voices are heard on the soundtrack.  This is initially good for a laugh, but it quickly grows tiresome as the flick lumbers on.

In short, Superzan and the Space Boy is far from what you would call “out of this world”.

THE VAMPIRE RAIDERS (1988) ***

The Vampire Raiders is an entertaining slice of Godfrey Ho and Tomas Tang lunacy.  As is par for the course with their films, it’s really two movies that have been edited together in slapdash fashion to make a “new" flick.  This practice usually yields uneven results, but this one just might be their weirdest one yet. 

This Eric Clapton lookalike wants to bring the hotel industry to its knees.  In order to do so, he must kidnap a hotel bigwig.  He knows that the Purple Ninja Clan are just itching to foil his plans, so he hires out for protection in the form of some hopping Chinese vampires. 

I have seen some shit and I have seen some shit.  The shit I seen in The Vampire Raiders just might take the cake.  In one scene, without warning, a giant pig is thrown off the roof of a building and lands on an elderly couple.  Then, the pig explodes, and a vampire emerges.  If you and I saw that in our everyday life, it would probably scar us till the end of our days, but the heroes in this movie just sort of shrug it off. 

I guess it takes a lot to shock a Ninja.

Someone who is unnerved by all of this is a trio of hotel switchboard operators who act as the heroines in the “second” movie.  One even says, “Pigs just don’t fall off the tops of buildings!”  You got that right, sister.

When people ask when will Godfrey Ho make a coherent movie, the answer usually is, “When pigs fly”.  Well… here we are. 

Admittedly, the rest of the movie isn’t quite as demented as that scene, but there are some definite highlights along the way.  We get a fun bit where a lady Ninja’s suntanning session is interrupted by a handsy vampire.  There’s also an attack by zombies who have Mr. Fantastic arms.  One of the idiots thinks the only thing that can stop a zombie is virgin piss (?!?), so he gets his buddy to pee in a jar.  Needless to say, it doesn’t go as planned.

The Vampire Raiders is far from what the AFI would call a “good” movie, but it’s a lot of fun.  I will say the Ninja stuff isn’t nearly as entertaining as the vampire scenes though.  Still, this is probably one of Ho’s best (and by best, I mean “jaw-droppingly weird”). 

AKA:  Vampire Raiders vs. Ninja Queen.  AKA:  Vampire Raiders:  Ninja Queen. 

THE JAR (1984) ** ½

Paul (Gary Wallace) gets into a car accident and brings the old man (Les Miller) he hit back home to his apartment.  Not only is the dude weird as shit, he’s also carrying a strange jar and won’t let it out of his sight.  When he disappears suddenly, he leaves the jar behind, which contains a little demon baby.  Paul naturally tries to get rid of the jar several times, but it ominously keeps coming back.  Pretty soon, he starts having bizarre visions, loses track of time, and has trouble distinguishing reality from illusion. 

The Jar is a weird fucking movie.  It’s very amateurish in some spots, but downright effective in other stretches.  It almost feels like David Lynch directed a Frank Henenlotter film.  There are also some moments that might have influenced Jacob’s Ladder too, which came out six years later.  (There’s a Vietnam flashback.)

He might not have any other credits on IMDb, but director Bruce Toscano gets a lot of mileage from just a handful of locations and is able to create some unsettling atmosphere with just a shoestring budget.  We also get a good performance by Wallace (who, like Toscano, has no other credits) in the lead.  In some of his scenes, he reminded me of Bruce Campbell in the first Evil Dead, as his character goes through Hell mentally and physically, but gamely keeps plugging along. 

There are many positive things I can say about The Jar that can’t be said for many low budget horror movies.  The problem is that after our hero is left alone with the jar, things become increasingly predictable and repetitive.  (The ending is a foregone conclusion.)  The thing in the jar is pretty cheap looking too.  (It resembles a pickled Ghoulie.)  However, the horror comes from the mental chaos it creates, and not the monster itself.  Ultimately, Toscano is unable to string that feeling along throughout a feature length running time. 

In fact, there are some scenes in the film that are in black and white for no good reason whatsoever.  This leads me to suspect it might’ve started life as a short and was later expanded.  If that was the case, it’s better than many similar movies of its kind.  That’s still not quite enough of a recommendation to make it a must-see, but it works most of the time.

CAULDRON OF BLOOD (1971) ** ½

This horror chiller starts with a great title sequence that features some Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein-inspired animation.  Halfway through the credits, there is a freeze frame on a skull for what feels like an eternity.  The music continues, but there are no titles flashing on the screen.  This went on so long I thought my Roku crapped out on me.  Just when I was about to get up to grab the remote, the skull’s head suddenly popped open, giving me a slight jolt.  Kudos to the credits people who designed that effective bit. 

A photographer (Jean-Pierre Aumont) comes to a small village to do a story on a reclusive blind sculptor named Franz (Boris Karloff).  Little does he know his wife (Viveca Lindfors) has been using the bones of her murder victims as the armatures in his sculptures.  Once Franz realizes his wife is a deranged murderess (and an adulterer too), he puts his foot down and tries to put a stop to her deadly game.

Cauldron of Blood kind of plays like a loose remake of A Bucket of Blood.  Only this time the sculptor uses bones under his clay instead of whole bodies.  (Who needs a bucket when you got a whole cauldron?)  The idea of a blind sculptor is pretty funny, but they wisely don’t play it for laughs. 

It’s not successful overall, but it’s quirky and watchable.  Whenever things threaten to get too dull, something weird will happen to give you the confidence to continue to plow through.  I think my favorite bit was the dream sequence that featured Nazi torture, kaleidoscopic effects, and a melting face.  The odd freeze frames and random cutaways to lightning striking during the other horrific scenes makes me think this might have been cut to get its PG rating.  Then again, there’s also a little bit of nudity in there too, so who knows?

This was one of Karloff’s final performances, as it was made shortly before the quartet of Mexican quickies that proved to be his swan song.  Lindfors does most of the heavy lifting as the feeble Boris mostly sits around wearing oversized sunglasses.  She’s pretty entertaining to watch though, so it’s a reasonable enough trade-off.

Sure, Cauldron of Blood drags, but then again so did every other fucking movie I watched this week.  Despite that, it’s got personality, an offbeat vibe, and a pretty gnarly climax.  There are worse Karloff quickies out there, that’s for sure.

AKA:  Blind Man’s Bluff.  AKA:  Children of Blood.  AKA:  Death Comes for the Dark.  AKA:  The Corpse Collectors.  AKA:  The Shrinking Corpse.

HINDSIGHT IS 2020: GRETEL AND HANSEL (2020) *

I guess you can tell by the title, Gretel and Hansel, that this is going to be one of those deals where they try to flip the script and elevate the female character’s role in an already well-established story.  That probably isn’t the worst idea in the world given that they cast It’s Sophia Lillis as Gretel.  They also made her significantly older than the brat playing Hansel, so she basically has to do all the heavy lifting.  In fact, I’m not even sure why they bothered putting Hansel’s name in the title to be honest.

Unfortunately, this is one of those movies that tried to ride the coattails of The VVitch.  Like that flick, it’s got a nice sense of time and setting, but it’s mostly a big bore.  Sure, the opening scene, which looks a little inspired by The Holy Mountain is cool, but it’s all downhill from there. 

That sequence also serves as an origin story for the witch, played by Alice Krige.  That is about as perfect casting as you can get.  Unfortunately, just like The VVitch, everyone talks in hushed tones and whispers, so it’s hard to hear what they’re all going on about half the time, so it makes it hard for her to build up a sense of menace. 

Also, there’s no candy house.  What the fuck?  That’s like making a Sleeping Beauty movie and beauty don’t go to sleep.  They don’t even fuck around with breadcrumbs either.  There is a scene where they get high AF on mushrooms though.  The witch even turns Gretel against Hansel at one point because… fuck the patriarchy?  I guess.  You know, you can only change so much stuff about Hansel and Gretel (or Gretel and Hansel) until at some point it stops being Hansel and Gretel.

Another dumb thing:  Gretel somehow has Jedi powers too.  I guess that’s the Force Awakens influence.  Or something.

The movie was directed by Osgood Perkins.  (More like OsBAD Perkins, am I right?)  He is none other than the son of Norman Bates himself, Anthony Perkins.  As for as directorial efforts from the Perkins bloodline go, this ain’t no Psycho 3 that’s for damned sure. 

HINDSIGHT IS 2020: SKIN: A HISTORY OF NUDITY IN THE MOVIES (2020) ****

I probably saw more documentaries in 2020 than I have in a long time.  That was mostly because cinematic pickings were kind of slim, thanks to the pandemic.  However, this year’s crop of docs just sort of spoke to me.  Dangerous theme parks?  Drugs?  The Bee Gees?  The Go-Go’s?  Sure, why not?  I’ll check out a movie about those subjects. 

Now, here comes a documentary that REALLY speaks to me.  Skin:  A History of Nudity in the Movies is exactly what you think it is.  It’s a lot of stars, historians, and film critics taking you on a nude romp down mammary (err… memory) lane and celebrating Hollywood’s infatuation with nudity.  We learn that nudity in movies practically began with the movies themselves.  They started off in small indie productions before slowly creeping into big budget studio films.  The Hays Code put a stop to all that in 1934, so Hollywood had to come up with clever ways to sneak risqué stuff past the censors.  Things lighten up a little bit thanks to the nudist camp pictures and nudie-cuties of the ‘60s.  Eventually once major stars like Jayne Mansfield and Mamie Van Doren star in movies topless, it paves the way for nudity in film as we know it today. 

There is a good variety of talking heads throughout.  We hear from everyone who made the movies (like Joe Dante) to the people who starred in them (like Sybil Danning) to the people who watched them (like David Del Valle).  We also hear from the authority on nudity himself, Mr. Skin.  If you think Mr. Skin is cool, wait till you see the guy they have on here named Professor Kuntz!  Although… I don’t think it’s a pseudonym like “Mr. Skin”.  I think it’s his real name.

Anyway, a lot of this will be an old hat if you know your film history, but it’s still fun to see it trotted out again.  What makes it so engaging is that it is scholarly to a point, but not so much so that it can’t embrace the wild side of cinema that you and I enjoy so well.  I mean any movie that shows clips from The Monster of Camp Sunshine, Kiss Me Quick, and Orgy of the Dead in rapid succession is just catering to my tastes. 

Editor Steven L. Austin deserves some kind of award for his ingenious cutting.  How can you not love a documentary that follows up the harrowing nude scenes of The Last Tango in Paris with scenes from the Women in Prison classic, The Big Doll House?  I think my favorite moment was when they go from the schlocky werewolf orgy in The Howling 2 to the tender lesbian lovemaking in Personal Best within a span of a single edit.  That is some Oscar-worthy editing right there.

Austin is also smart enough to include moments from some of the most iconic scenes in screen history.  And by that, I mean Betsy Russell’s topless horseback riding scene in Private School, Traci Lords’ nude scene in Not of This Earth, and Julianne Moore’s bush in Short Cuts.  If that alone isn’t enough to sell you on this movie, you probably don’t have a pulse.

MOONSTALKER (1989) ** ½

An old coot goes camping and makes the acquaintance of a vacationing family.  Mom doesn’t like him, but dad assures her, “He’s just a harmless old guy!”  (If you play a drinking game where you take a shot every time the father says a variation on this line, you’ll be drunk off your ass before the second act.)  As it turns out, mom’s instincts were right.  The old fart just busted his deranged son, Bernie out of the booby hatch and before long, he goes to town on the family with an axe.  Only the daughter survives, and he chases her to a nearby camp where some counselors are taking a training course.  It isn’t long before our axe-happy killer starts piling up counselor bodies like cordwood. 

Moonstalker gives us a little bit of a Psycho situation where our heroes are killed off early on before we are introduced to another set of characters.  It’s also interesting in that our killer, though quite mad, still has enough wits about him to steal the clothing and identity of one of his victims.  Although he’s not quite as menacing while wearing oversized sunglasses and a cowboy hat (he kind of looks like Joe Don Baker) as he was when he was in his Slipknot mask and straitjacket, his appearance is at least different enough from the usual slasher fare to be memorable. 

In fact, the movie is a little bit better than average the whole way down the line.  I’m a fan of this sort of thing, so I appreciated some of the novel touches.  It’s probably not novel enough to win over any non-slasher fanatics, but it’s also not too far off the beaten path that fans wanting more of the same will be disappointed.  

For example, there’s the scene where the character of Marcie (Ingrid Vold, who has a Linnea Quigley-type quality to her) prepares for a lovemaking session with her boyfriend.  In most of these movies, the girl would simply disrobe and hop in a sleeping bag.  This is not the case with Moonstalker.  Marcie’s boyfriend is a military fetishist, so that means she dresses up in a camouflage bikini, cracks a whip, and cranks Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” as a form of foreplay.  You just don’t get that in your average Friday the 13^th sequel.

The third act is a little plodding though.  Despite the draggy pace, it does have a few cool bits like the campfire sing-along with a bunch of dead bodies.  We also get a nice little twist at the end.  It’s not enough to put it over the top or anything, but I kind of wish the set-up for a sequel happened.  I wouldn’t have minded another go-round with Bernie.

AKA:  Camper Stamper.

GREMLOIDS (1984) *

Most movies wear their inspirations on their sleeve.  This one wears them on its pajamas.  And by that, I mean the opening scene features two kids having a close encounter with aliens while wearing Star Wars and E.T. P.J.’s. 

The evil Lord Buckethead (Robert Bloodworth) accidentally winds up on Earth.  Refusing to own up to his mistake, he plows forward, and along with his band of pint-sized aliens in black robes they scour a small hick town looking for stolen transmissions.  When he realizes AAMCO transmissions aren’t the plans he’s looking for, he kidnaps a grease monkey named Karen (Paula Poundstone) thinking she’s a princess.  It’s then up to a wimpy exterminator named Max (Alan Marx) to rescue her and save the planet.

Gremloids resembles what Star Wars might’ve looked like if George Lucas opted for the “let’s have it take place on Earth” approach of the Masters of the Universe movie.  As bad as the film is, the Star Wars-inspired opening crawl is very well done.  Lord Buckethead, who looks like a cross between Darth Vader and the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, could’ve been a fun villain, but his repetitive shtick wears out its welcome quickly. 

You know you’re in trouble when you’re watching a Star Wars spoof that came so late in the cycle that its title was changed to cash in on Gremlins.

The film ultimately tries way too hard to be like Star Wars that it fails to do anything original.  It tries even harder to make the unfunny gags work.  The jokes are repeated ad nauseum, the action sequences are lame (like the chase scene involving grocery carts in a supermarket), and the special effects aren’t so special.  The filmmakers had the right idea by casting then-up and coming comedians like Paula Poundstone and Chris Elliott in sizable roles, but they were just too early in their career to really pull the weak material off.

Ultimately, Gremloids feels like a Mad magazine Star Wars spoof stretched out to ninety minutes.  In case you’re wondering, ninety minutes is way too long for this sort of thing.  Heck, it would’ve been a painful nine-minute short.  I mean the opening crawl gag is OK and the first appearance of Lord Buckethead is good for a chuckle, but the movie grinds to a halt shortly thereafter and becomes a tiresome chore to get through. 

AKA:  Hyperspace.