Tuesday, June 9, 2009


Unpunctuated due to time constraints

Lorenzo Llamas night featuring Terminal Justice and the world premiere of Mega-shark vs. Giant Octopus Terminal Justice features LL as future cop/veteran of cartel wars who's "not into virtual sex" and whose veins course with a drug called Hellraiser which makes killing like fucking which he was shot up with during the war where he lost his eyes and got new robot eyes which can make everything green and a cool tatoo and he impresses a hot young virtual sex actress(?) by shootinig a guy in her living room and scores a date with her to the envy of his partner who is the only one he can trust but he dies soon and LL is teamed up with a smartass computer nerd who he initially bristles at but eventually teaches to dress in leather to defeat the man who manufactures Hellraiser and deadly VR war games and who is secretly having a renegade doctor who faked his death clone himself (the doctor that is) and make female clone sex slaves that he can totally fuck up on Hellraiser but LL takes Hellraiser and stops him in VR battle and a clone kills the doctor who is herself legally so there is no case against her Mega-shark v Giant Octopus it's all in the title literally kinda a crap fest w/ Deborah Gibson and LL the best part I missed because was smoking weed next week UHF I don't need to tell you anything about UHF fool except that twinkie wiener sandwiches are really great but maybe Scuddy will write an affectionate homage later Krush Groove Def Jam story conceived as after school special Disco 3 change their name to Fat Boys after putting a Sbarro out of business movie sucks but again maybe an homage piece here later

-J. Baker, brilliant young scientist

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Also ran:

Omega Cop
In the future (and from all signs somewhere in Cleveland), a unit of the special police are cruising around in Jeeps listening to doowop. The fun is abruptly ended when they stumble upon one of the future's ubiquitous gangs auctioning off young women (with a bonus can of gas!) Guns, karate, and one special cop remains: John Travis. Apparently Adam West can't let him back into the secret underground bunker because of solar flares or something, so Travis collects a trio of fine young ladies and makes for a football stadium, where the girls spend the remaining run time washing each other in the locker room showers and showing Travis their, umm, gratitude, right? Wrong. Instead Travis spends his time chasing kids around inexplicable 36-sided buildings to reclaim articles of clothing he left lying in his open-top Jeep, one of the girls is captured, a guy licks her armpit, chanting, guns, bigger guns, chase, repeat. There's a doctor somewhere in there but who cares. at the end Travis blows up Adam West to save ?. I have no idea where these cops draw their paychecks since there doesn't appear to be any society left to serve and protect and John Travis kills everyone else in the movie except the three girls, and then they go swimming (fully clothed). Upholds some traditional drive-in values (future cop, assorted assault weapons fired, paychecks for famous actors in their twilite period), but pretty boring, breast-factor of 0, 2 out of 5 whatevers.
- J. Baker, brilliant young scientist

Monday, May 18, 2009


most. timely. post. evar.

'omega cop': this is what the box looks like.

uh, i didn't see 'omega cop.'

'omega cop': this is what the title screen looks like (pictured: omega cop).

i mean, is it my fucking fault that a) spinal tap picked a fucking sunday evening to come here for the first time ever (albeit without any wigs on and playing acoustic guitars and a bunch of songs from other fucking movies)? or that b) my sister totally got us free tickets 'cause she all like knows people and shit? one big fucking answer: no. but still i am sad i didn't see 'omega cop,' if only beacuse i really, really wanna see 'karate cop,' and that is th' goddam sequel.

well i'm sure someone will write about it. i can tell you one thing, tho': the 29 seconds i saw involved pretty much exclusively girls in short shirts running down a massive amount of stairs.

now, that very seriously looks like something you wanna watch like right fucking now, doesn't it? that's what i thought. and hey, it is that good. so y'got johnny travolta on th' mean streets o'the new york city, runnin' (ish) a club called (and i am stealing this first) aka...dump with his pal arye gross (as wendell!)(he was in 'just one of the guys' and 'soul man,' not just 'house II') when this dude bruce smith or something shows up (from russia) to ask them to open another awesome club (only in nebraska) only of course they don't know he's from russia 'cause he says he's from nebraska only here's the thing: they pretty much built some nebraska right there in the U.S.S.R., and he roofies 'em and flies 'em there. it takes a long time for them to get wise to this trick even though the nebraska there looks just like it's 1957 and everyone is pretty off except kelly preston but then again she "boogies" (yes she does, all over the place) with johnny so he's kinda blind anyhow there. well like i said it takes awhile but it's a good while to spend with these fellows and somehow they figure it out and that lands 'em in the joint and they're gonna get executed but then they say america is lame and then they don't and everyone goes all nutso and the rad flat-topped pilot saves th' day like three times and everyone ends up in america anyway but here's the twist, maybe they don't like real america, they can't hang in the big 1989 city so well why not let's just go all live in nebraska, happy ending right? ok. seriously all the awesome parts i am leaving out are totally worth the 65 cents it will take for you to buy this movie and the like better part of an hour and a half you will never want back because it is that good. but the main thing i want to say here is that steve fucking levitt is in this fucker, and he's drunk, and he's a burger boy, and i wish to HECK that he had a career longer than pretty much just this and 'blue movies' because man, he is the shit, and if at least he had made a few more eighties movies with weird russians like brian doyle murray in them then i would have something to fucking do with myself instead of all the other interesting things that i could well be doing all day other than wishing i had a copy of 'danger team.'

I Want You To Know

so, at some point last week i sat and watched two very drive-in worthy flicks all by my damn self. indoors, even. but lo, should ye think me th' sad & lonesome sort, ye can just shove that ol' notion clean and clear outta yer fuckin' braincase cuz usually i can't even get rid of you fucks (a few of you are ok). as usual i digress.

this movie was fucked up. i mean, the tape. the tape of 'blue movies' (an' just you googlificate on over an' have yerself a mess o' fun lookin' for that parr-ticular poster in th' image searcher) that i have is fucked up. really, really fucked up. probably th' most fucked up piece of tape i have let run to its logical (ahem) conclusion in my prized hand-me-down-12-year-old-not-even-then-was-it-state-of-th'-art machine. about 14 minutes of it a third of th' way thru didn't have any picture at all an' the rest was filmed in an oddly rotating snow or sandstorm. but, ah, yes, i stuck withit, dontcha know, i'm just that kinda guy. an' if ya find a better copy somewhere, why i might even fire it up with ya. anyhrrr, buzz (steve levitt!! just you wait!) has many crazy quick-money-makin' (but they never do, do they? ahoy!) schemes, th' most recent bein' a midget/chick/wrestler thing that gets him in somethin' like deep with th' russian mob or something (just. you. wait.) so he recalls a certain ar-tickle in th' biz secssshhh of whatever rag losers read (i would not know) pertaining to th' amount of VHS tapes sold with naked, copulating people all set to play on 'em vs. the amount w/o and comes to th' conclusion that porn is th' way to go when you don't have enuff ducats fer th' phone booth an' i gotta say he's got as much a right as anyone to be maybe right about something there. with th' help of his pal cliff an' a pervy dentist an' like his dad's yacht or something they like montage their way into some actors and stuff and whoa is it zany but hey did i tell you i liked this flick? 'cause i did, it was more than alright, maybe it was the nice sandwich i had on such a lovely afternoon as well but it was really quite grand and i hope it does get its due release on dvd sometime in the near-ish future for everyone's sake, really. 'cause everything turns out alright in th 'end, they hafta edit the 19 minutes of footage that's all they managed to get into a feature-length feature all by their lonesomes and then they hafta steal it from th' big pornmogul guys (there are three dudes that work there ok and they all have guns) but somewhere along th' way everyone gets to fall in love - like, fer real - and th' movie becomes a big hit, theaters in malls everywhere, parents taking their kids and goldfish to see it, evil plots foiled, &c, &c, chases on foot to rival 'point break' and well i really don't hafta tell you do i 'cause yer gonna track it down already i'm sure you've decided so just get on withit.

now 'roller blade,' i b'lieve this got shown last year or th' year before at th' drive-in proper, you'll hafta ask someone else 'cuz i musta been dead at th' time. but hoo-ee is this wurth another spin around the chateau, holy hell, is it ever. basically an excuse fer a skinflick i actually coulda done without th' skin in, th' nonsense these fux came up with in order to show a little mmffff is really quite fucking inspired, the writer musta been a bigshot at some point (maybe summaya see what i did there). see there's these comic strip nuns who have magic healing steak knives and don't they just irk th' hell outta the baddies and the sorta goodies, all o'them roller-skatin' around ('cept, junior, and whaddya know without his skates he just goes an' gets all kid-stolen an' torturficated on o'course) th' wastelands of southern california or wherever they could film for free all afternoon (oh, btw there aren't any rollerblades, dude, it's rollerskates and knife blades, ok, so it's ok) an' gettin' in knife fights just like fern an' volker sing about (both inspired by this here flick dontcha know) an' tryin' to basically just make their honest way about the post-apocalyptic world they've been born into - hey, they didn't have a choice. there's this weird head honcho of th' pro-wrestler (er twisted sister, as if there's one diff) types that's like a puppet-baby-guy who tries to make th' one girl betray th' nuns but don't she just see th' L-I-T-E there o'course and well, i am just gonna stop right there cuz i really do not want to spoil this for ya one bit (and anyway as if i could even pack th' plots an' subplots an' uberplots of this devastator into all of th' internet, man it would just take all the words from all them other sites and i do NOT want th' internetspolice on my ass for that shit, no thank you very much either). talk around th' watercooler is that that jesse doesn't like this one but he likes 'the apple' so you can see what i'm saying there i think. (OH, and by the by in lookin' fer this poster i came across a similar film what goes by th' name of 'roller blade warriors: taken by force,' sounds like mebbe bigger knives but all else is th' same and y'know, fer chrissakes at th' bottom o'th' amazonian page there it sez 'if ya like this...' you'll like 'hell comes to frogtown' and dammit i hope th' reverse iz true 'cause well you all know how i feel about that one anyway. so please if y'gots that one send it on over, bring it down, whatever, i'm bettin' we all wanna see it, i mean check this out:

i mean, right?!?)


okay, okay, so it's monday and i haven't got th' thingy done yet, BIG DEAL. and like big oops but it's way past due on the whole last week thing but whatever, i thought about going to rock on the range and that made me all tired so i slept for a week or something. i dunno, unemployment has its benefits. like not worrying what fucking day it is. anyhoo...

last last weekend happened to be the one where we commemorate being born and raised and all that other stuff or at least some of it that goes along with them what birthed us so we tried to come up with some mother's day-worthy flicks but we only had one (nobody had 'mother's day,' weird, right? i mean it's fucking troma) so being as how there was a full moon the night before and everything had gotten itself all weird from like thursday on anyhow we went with the werewolf thing established early on instead, still appropriate, duh. well anyways more cohesive than normal or something.

'my mom's a werewolf.' uh-huh. so....shot over a few hours one tuesday afternoon/evening in the time before after-school specials went off the air, this mess of brown-tape insanity holds to no strict rules about werewolves or moms, so it's a-ok in my little red book. mom has lunchtime affair with creepy guy she meets who's already eaten (a rat! at the pet store! ew, amiright?), grows white polyfill all over, makes the scene at th' halloween party (of course it's halloween!), almost bangs said creepy dude in th' oddly moist environs he maintains in the back of said pet store, almost goes to th' dentist (not c. bernsen, dammit) in her undies, almost holds film together. meanwhile her daughter, blossom, along with her trusty pal 6, manages to not really figure out what's (bang! that was the frying pan that is the retardo plot & premise of the movie hitting you, i know, very easy to miss, but i don't blame you, young actress with the monobrow of gold and yer weird yellow brick friend, i'm sure i wouldn't fucking come straight to th' conclusion that my mom was a werewolf - she's not, thx - even if all the signs pointed to it in neon either, i don't think) going on. but with th' help of 6's (again) trusty vintage horror mag collection and encyclopaedic knowledge of how to kill a werewolf (among other things), they manage to stab the fucking baddie with a fork on a stick which eventually kills him and so mom is fine again...AND ON TV! obviously i'm really leaving a lot out here but y'know it's pretty dense and heady stuff and i wouldn't want to bog anyone down in discussions of distanciation and stuff. oh, and jason quicksall is in it.

so, can i just say that when i'm looking for posters to put up here i just get really fucking jazzed when they're WAY cooler than th' video box? but more than that, yes, FAR more than that - most of all, even, it stokes me to no end when i find that one of these awesome examples of the triumph of just pure fucking unadulterated human desperation and trust fund usage *cough* i mean determination and the power of dreams is available on dvd somewhere. and 'full eclipse' is. yuh-huh. now, mario van peebles has done worse movies than this; he is not, to my memory, all that great of an actor. but his dad got him laid onscreen, sacrificing his virginity for all to see - not to mention starting a fucking boulder rolling that culminated in the jaw-dropping display of awesome that is 'i'm gonna get you sucka,' a flick so goddam great that, like 'top secret' and many others before and since, we probably wouldn't even think of playing it here, unless there was nothing else or something - and that's pretty cool. but it is not as cool as this movie, i tell you, and it is way, way not as cool as the thirty fucking times mario van peebles flies thru the fucking air in order to shoot a bullet because i am pretty sure that is the only way that he can shoot real good or something. his partner tries it sometimes too, even going as far as to, while standing on top of a moving bus, leap into the air like one foot ahead of where he was and land on his chest, firing away the whole while. it's for accuracy, obviously. try it out sometime. it just happens to look totally badass, esp. in slow motion. coincidence. so in an attempt to ruin everything for you (for the eighth or ninth time, i tell you it's not going to ruin yer enjoyment of these films if i or anyone tell you what "happens"), here's th' deal: ancient and powerful werewolf baddie creates vampire-style coven of awesome crime-fighting insane-o's (some of them are foxy. ish.) and makes the world a better place, city by city, except that he fails to tell everyone that he's gonna get real powerful and stuff whenever there's a full lunar eclipse (see what i did there) and probably rip them to shreds and eat their souls eventually. MVP (seriously) looks at microfiche (which as far as i can tell is just what somoeone who is confused should do right fucking away, go look at some random microfiche, because that will immediately - give or take one montage-makin' sleepless night - make all the reasons for everything become just so painfully obvious) and is unimpressed with baddie's plan. foils it. moves to denver. end. (caveat: the ending of this - and i'm not even talking about th' denver part, that's kinda alright actually, i'm all for it, it's a nice town, lush and green, good schools, great food and entertainment, or for that matter the actual final fight scene which is cool in itself, it just ends up kinda totally meh - is about .003% as good as the rest of it. but do please bear in mind the rest of it is FUCKING AWESOME, and adjust accordingly.)

Thursday, May 7, 2009

We are all interested in the future for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives...

but first, some unfinished business from last season:
I caught a lot of flack for this flick (mostly from Scuddy), and even accepted censure standing by it, love it as I do. Now, I'm not going to preach a bunch of camp value bullshit here or quote some obscure passage from Schiller on the aesthetic values of irony because I know you are all busy people; and I don't want to over-analyze this thing (though I could, and have) so, simply put: This film is a fascinating matrix of poor decision making and overall lack of good sense, like staring onto the void, and can be as rewarding and instructive as watching a very well-crafted movie. For example, if you've ever wondered what the term deus ex machina means...
No one thought maybe having the only two black characters in the movie singing a reggae-ish ditty about how Bugalow knows "how to be a master" was a bad idea? From the bored look on Candy's face starting around the 35 min. mark, by guess is that Mr. Golan wasn't fooling anyone. I mean, an Israeli makes a movie in Berlin equating the fall of man with disco, and then hires the entire line of, ahem, dancers standing outside the unemployment office in Manhattan who obviously feel the same way. Anyhow, those songs have lain barbs in my heart, and now when Bibi and Alfie sing "Cry for me", I do.
And this movie wasn't nearly as bad as last year's real stinker:

Looking now to the future:

The real object of this post is to issue a challenge. You think the Apple is bad? The Apple isn't bad, this is:

I dare ya to fucking watch it.

-J. Baker, brilliant young scientist