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Comments Off on Night of the Creeps

Chris discovers Tom Cruise's scientology hyperbolic chamber, the only side effect is continual shrinkage

“Chris discovers Tom Cruise’s Scientology approved hyperbolic chamber. The only side effect is his continual shrinkage.”

I think college frat guys are getting an unfair stereotype in film. In most movies they’re portrayed as the dumb jock whose out to boink every co-ed they stumble across and that’s only if they can take enough time to put their beer can down. They initiate freshmen pledges by forcing  them to carry around stemmed cherries with their butt cheeks or having them steal the rival teams animal mascot and put in the dean’s new convertible. Their frat house are like a demilitarized zones littered with pizza boxes from last years graduating class and empty keg cans make up most of their furniture. The place is so gruesome sometimes you can count the ring of stains on the walls and figure out how old the building is. It’s not their fault and I think I know where the blame firmly lies…it’s the cheap beer. College frat guys are always broke and are forced to buy cheap beer which leads to binge drinking and eventually some guy who thinks he can fly off the roof if he wears a cape and an adult diaper (and I have the metal plate in my head to prove that.) I think the colleges should institute a fine imported beer requirement. They can only drink a few though because, well who can afford to drink any more. No more Pabst Blue Ribbon specials for those incoming pledges either, that’s just cruel. Freshly sobered, the dumb meat headed jock suddenly becomes a wine critic, an upstanding member of society, a consumer of fine cheeses and toothpicked snacks. Just think about it, no more streaking pledges across campus…because that’s really not that funny unless your drunk. No more belching the alphabet or lighting farts, again not funny unless your hammered. Pizza boxes are recycled into green friendly IKEA packaging, no more rowdy football games on the TV just Antique Roadshow re-runs and rush week turns into home and garden tours where….. wait you know what? On second thought I think they should just keep the cheap beers and wear those greek embroidered polo shirts. Their inner caveman will thank them for it later when they get married.
Speaking of frat guys who are no longer in control of their own brains. Night of the creeps has a whole bus load of them as helpless co-eds faceoff against zombified frat brothers whose brains are infested with alien slugs. Makes your last prom date not look so bad don’t it? Chris “don’t call me George” Romero is a red headed nerd in a sweater vest and J.C. is a wise talker in an arm brace walker out cruising around pledge week. Suddenly Chris spots Cindy Cronenberg, a pretty college girl with the voice of a chipmunk hooked on helium. Chris can’t resist a girl who looks like a super model but sounds like Rocky from a Bullwinkle cartoon so he has J.C. try to introduce him to her. Unfortunately his weak human ears can’t handle her vocal octaves so they have to pledge a fraternity to impress her instead. Brad, their fearless leader and king of polo pop-up collars sends them on a pledge mission to steal a corpse and drop it on the front lawn of a rival frat house. Nothing really says a fun greek week like rotting corpse lawn decor so Chris and J.C. break into a medical lab on campus hoping to score some fresh dead. They find a freeze dried corpse instead who had a close oral encounter with some alien slugs 40 years earlier. Why the med students decided to freeze this guy like a TV dinner is beyond me. “We have to preserve his tall hair style for future generations!”

Smart as a brick J.C. hits the child friendly release button and the corpse starts spitting out slugs from it’s head like a broken Pez dispenser. J.C. has such a big mouth it’s an easy target for the alien slugs so he soon gets zombified during a bathroom break and his failed burning toilet paper roll defense. Dead med students start walking, janitors are turned into mopping alien incubators, zombie dogs and cats living’s mass hysteria!

To save the world they get cop Detective Ray Cameron played pitch perfect by Tom Akins. Ray is hankering for some good old slug skeet shooting and blows the head off an infested axe murder earlier just to warm up. Meanwhile Chris and Cindy are torching some slugs-ka-bobs outside the sorority house and mulching their lawn with frat guy’s innards. Detective Cameron  fights off more zombies inside the house dirty Harry style and gets to deliver one of the great lines in b-movie history “The good news is your dates are here…the bad news is they’re dead.” That’s pure movie gold right there. The slugs have all gathered in the basement to munch on some freshly canned brain preserves and Detective Cameron has got a can of gasoline just waiting to start the pyrotechnic grand finale. If you’ve seen the more recent movie called Slither directed by James Gunn then you’ll see the direct influence of this classic 80’s horror slug-fest on that story. Now if the owners of this film would just release the darn movie rights already so we could watch it on DVD. In the meantime you’ll just have to sift through some old VCR tapes bargain bins to find this little horror gem. Retroman Steve says check it out and be sure to bring some matches.

Roadside Attractions

– 3 naked alien midgets
– 1 sorority house explosion
– 1 corpsicle
– 1 fratastic bus crash
– 1 cat of the living dead
– Doggy slug-dispensers
– Canned brain storage
– Peeping tom zombies
– Lawn slug exterminators
– Zombie mowing and landscape services

rated 8.6 out of 10 for the movie

The most popular fraternities on my campus? I Felta Thigh and Kappa Tappa Kegga

Check out the trailer for Night of the Creeps


posted by admin | November 26, 2008 | Uncategorized

Comments Off on Happy Thanksgiving

WARNING: The trailer below contains graphic violence and nudity. But really what did you expect on Thanksgiving Day?


posted by admin | October 22, 2008 | Comedy, Cult Film, Horror movies, Review by Barry Goodall, Uncategorized

Comments Off on Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer

“His attempt to disprove the myth of eating Coca-Cola and Pop Rocks went horribly wrong.”

Road rage is all the rage these days. It seems the closer I get to Detroit the more the cars are packed in tighter together and the more irritable people get.  It unnerves me like being in an elevator with a bunch of stranger except without the added perk of body odor. You get in the lane moving fast and then it slows to a crawl meanwhile the lane you were just in suddenly become the Taladega expressway. Expecting a major pile-up of horrific carnage you finally see what people are gawking at  that caused the slow down to begin with. Just a couple empty boxes strewn across the shoulder of the pavement. No cones, no workers, no crushed cars with body limbs. Apparently the possibility that a menacing cardboard box may leap from the ditch at any moment brings traffic to a stand still. Much like a deer if you see one there are surely more to follow. The lady in front of you is taking on her cell phone and putting on makeup, filing paperwork, and is apparently delicately aligning a nuclear centrifuge system all from her car’s dashboard because she sure ain’t paying attention to the road. Then to top it off I let someone in and I don’t get the friendly hand wave back! the nerve! I let you in thereby saving you at least 30 seconds off your trip and you have the audacity to not return the customary friendly acknowledgement. Flashes of me slamming on the gas pushing their car into the guard rail like a scene out of Mad Max flash through my head, but I hold back the anger and viciously adjust my radio dial. Argh! all commercials except for Michael Bolton, That only boils my blood more.  Sfter slamming my fists on the steering and screaming at the top of my lungs I look around and notice that traffic has thinned out, the cell phone lady has friendly waved me in. Oh look the clouds have parted, a narrow beam of sunlight is guiding my way through traffic and Bobby Mcfarlane is even singing on my radio…eesh, why do people ever get so upset in traffic anyways. Thank goodness I’m not like that.

Did somebody call a plumber?Speaking of people with rage issues. Jack Brooks (Trevor Matthews) is not your typical plumber…a sort of Mario brother that lacks anger management skills. Ever since Jack witnessed the brutal slaying of his entire family on a camping trip by a bucked toothed grease monster he just can’t seem to deal with things constructively. Trips to Gander Mountain can definitely be crossed off his list of places to visit. Jack is seeing a physciatrist to help him with his uncontrollable urge to punch people. He’s also attending evening science class with his nagging girlfriend Eve to better his education. Eve, played by Rachel Skarsten, seems to be the only person who can single handidly wussify Jack with a couple choice words. This usually would take years of marriage to accomplish but Eve’s got it down pat. Robert Englund plays the class professor who invites Jack over to work on a mysterious plumbing problem at his creepy old mansion. A back-up pipe explodes as a result of Jack’s handy work unearthing a secret crate buried in his backyard. Typical contract worker, I’m sure he’ll charge extra for that too. 

Jabba lacks the charm of other Huts.Professor Crowley digs into the crate like a kid looking for the prize in a cereal box. He finds some skeletal remains, a lot of dirt, and of course a live beating heart (those are always the best prizes.) Not finding a organ donor card any other form of ID the professor suddenly eats the heart and becomes possessed by the spirit of an ancient demon. If only he had a hungry man TV diner instead. Even as a possessed drooling demonite the professor is still committed to the education system and heads to class. He’s a bit late though because he had to eat his dog on the way in. No need for a doggie bag, thank you very much. Once at class he starts burping, bloating and throwing up like a bulimic sorority girl at a frat party, that is until tentacles shoot out of his back grabbing students around the neck and turning them into blood thirsty monster through a tube of force fed demon goo. Jack and his girlfriend barely escape tearing out of the parking lot as fast as his old van will muster, but upon further reflection through a series of montage flashbacks Jack decides it’s better to fight than run to away like a little girly man. Pipe in hand and tool belt tightened, Jack heads back to the school for some monster killing therapy leaving behind his girlfriend for a hopeful mugging. Lots of monster head bashing and pipe smacking as Jack lets his inner rage go hog wild leading to the eventual big show down with the head monster.

Some great gorey effects that is straight out of a homage to some of the great 1980’s splatter films and a must see for fans of Evil Dead series. Jack Brooks is no Ash and lacks his witty charm, but if my toilet ever gets plugged up with netherworld demonites then I’ll know who to call. Retroman Steve says check it out but bring some liquid Draino and a plunger for those tough hair clogs. 

Roadside Attractions

-1 angry tribal cyclops
-1 girly pen
-Native tossing
-2 Doggie snacks
-Extreme plumbing
-Demon sinus vaporizing mist
-Tentacle lassoing
-Demon-goo beer bonging
-Monster head bunting
-Jabba the Hut look-alike contest
-Axe throwing
-Heart munching
-Obligatory creepy hardware salesman warning of doom

rated 8.6 out of 10 for the movie

See Jack run…run jack run.

See Jack smash monster with drain pipe…..smash Jack smash.



Check out the trailer for Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer


posted by admin | October 13, 2008 | 70's movies, B-movies, Comedy, Cult Film, Cult films, Musical, Uncategorized

Comments Off on Rock ‘n’ Roll High School

“So a mouse, a French leprechaun and an Indian walk into a bar…”

You know I often wonder why people refer to high school as the best years of their lives. Do these people actually remember what is was like back then, or do they get those years confused with a “Saved by the Bell” episode? This adolescent socialist prison system had to be some sort of evil physiological test confined to a rat maze of smelly lockers. Perhaps it was created by an ancient race of aliens in order to understand human behavior. If you’ve seen some of the school board members, you’d believe it, too. High school was divided into social cliques in their own 70’s street-gang style. There were the nerds, the geeks, bandzies, spazes, jocks, ice queens, druggies, snobs, and other lesser-known sub-categories like “fans of David Hasselhoff” or “kids that can play Casio keyboards.” And yes, I belonged to that last group ( I can still play Van Halen’s “Jump.”). It’s amazing lunch time didn’t erupt into a turf war. My money would be on the nerds…they had skills like MacGyver and could rig-up some explosives with a napkin, a couple of wires, and some day-old burritos. Watch out for the ice queens, though; they were like brain Ninjas…they’d leap from the rafters and attack your self-esteem and poor fashion sense. It’s strange looking back and wondering why we ever cared about who likes who; will I be able to learn to play Axel-F on my keyboard; will I ever pass Algebra? Guess what? Algebra…you’ll never use it again. That’s why they build calculators into shopping cart handles now. Gym class? I haven’t had the need to climb a rope since then, and don’t plan to, unless I’m involved in a prison break someday. Chemistry class…I seem to remember something about a periodic table, but I get that confused with the term “occasional furniture.” Just remember, kids: these are not the best years of your life; those are coming later and it’s called “college”…and possibly “retirement” for others. But do count your blessings. No paying taxes, no house payments, no responsibilities, and an unlimited amount of time to play Halo 3 on your Xbox. Curse you, Snipermaster07 and your unlimited training time. I will defeat you someday.

Wizard!!!!!!Speaking of high school kids with too much time on their hands, “Rock ‘n’ Roll High School” is a 70’s musical featuring the Ramones and a wide assortment of teenagers who are most likely to break out and dance at any moment. Gym class turns into Jazzercise; freshmen get stuffed into lockers; and hallways become punk rocking mosh pits. PJ Stolls of “Halloween” fame plays Riff Randal, the always-perky rock ‘n’ roll rebel whose obsession in life is to write a song for the Ramones and have them serenade her in her bathroom. Kate Rambeau (not the Vietnam vigilante) is her nerdy friend who has a crush on the football captain, Tom, played by Vincent Van Patten. Tom just happens to be even geekier than Kate with his name proudly embroidered across his jersey, as well as his lame pickup lines about the weather and driving around in his Dungeons and Dragons Warlock van.  Hey haven’t I seen this van somewhere else?


Johnny and Kate are trained in dating techniques by none other than the gigolo of cool, Clint Howard. He’s Ron Howard’s more handsome brother. He plays Eaglebauer, the school’s one-man, one-named Mafia, who runs a very profitable business from within the boys’ bathroom stalls, complete with his own secretary and voice-over announcer. I see a future corporate CEO position for this guy. Embezzlement and corruption sure…but the man’s got moxy, and already has a receding hairline as a teenager.

A new principal is brought to clean up the school, Miss Togar the Ogre (Mary Woronov). She is a tall Nazi-like warden, whose hair buns are wound tighter than Princess Leia’s. She also enjoys blowing up mice with blaring rock music. Hey, all this lady needs is a date and a day at the spa. Her plans is to rule Vince Lombardi High School with an iron fist, along with her Boy Scout hall monitors Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. Riff fights back by camping out to buy tickets for the town’s big Ramones concert. The band shows up in a big pink Cadillac with the phrase “Gabba Gabba Hey” blazoned across their license Plate, while eating chicken and playing guitar. Yet Riff still wants to buy the ticket and doesn’t run away screaming. Nothing against the Ramones, their music defined punk rock, but they sure were a homely group of rockers, and Joey, their lead singer, was the definition of eccentric. The man lived off wheat germ and riboflavin, and would cower in the shadows to avoid the deadly rays of the sun. Also an honorable mention to Paul Bartel, who plays the wacky music professor and recently converted Ramon-ite. He shows up to the concert in a French-Leprechaun outfit, complete with beret, rocking out with a giant white Rat, and an Indian Chief. Now there’s something you won’t see in “Grease.”  The Ramones show up later at the school for yet another concert (Why did the students even have to buy tickets to begin with for the town concert?), and after a good old-fashioned album burning by the parents, they end up blowing up the school with some homemade dynamite, mixed by Kate Rambo…Yes, she finally lives up to her namesake. The TV announcer signs-off by reminding us “if your principal gives you trouble and you want the same to happen at your school, then give Screamin’ Steve a call.” Screamin’ Steve is now on a terrorist watch list, and the students are serving time in Guantanimo.

If you liked cheesy musicals like “Little Shop of Horrors”, “Grease”, or “Hairspray”, I think you’ll rock out to this cult classic and lasting film tribute to the Ramones. It was originally titled “Disco High School”, and they thankfully changed the title out of fear that nobody would see it, except Travolta fanboys. And you can only handle so much on-screen Bee-Gees. Retroman Steve says, “Gabba Gabba grab a copy and check it out.”

Roadside Attractions

-Boy Scout hall monitors
-blow-up doll sexual assaults
-freshman locker stuffing
-remote-controlled airplane flying
-rock ‘n’ roll gym class
-bra- fu
-music instructors in berets
-Ramones bathroom attendants
-extreme hall monitoring
-lunch lady firing squads
-shag carpeted vans

rated 8.6 out of 10 for the movie

most memorable quote: “If you don’t like it, you can put it where the monkey puts the nuts.”

Check out the trailer for Rock ‘N’ Roll High School


Comments Off on The Wraith

the wraith

“I can put my whole fist in my mouth. That’s how much I love you.”

 I used to do a lot of sketching back in junior high, since I had plenty of a thing they call “free time.” Mostly I’d draw zombies chasing cheerleaders or aliens with three boobs vaporizing gym teachers with their brain explodo-rays, but occasionally I’d like to draw cars of the future. I’d draw cool prototypes that would push the boundaries of car aerodynamics and practicality to whole new levels, all in my preparation for my inevitable GM takeover. I’d spend hours sketching my plans: I had a vehicle with built-in hover tires a la “Back to the Future”, so when traffic was heavy you could fly to the nearest 7-11; a big wing spoiler for fast getaways from the fuzz; and integrated side-view mirrors that the designers of the Ford Probe ripped-off from me before I could patent them.  It could also do 0-60 mph in three seconds, travel through time, and ran on a combo of vegetable oil and Diet Dr. Pepper. I haven’t gotten that vice president position at GM yet, but wait until someone “accidentally” electrocutes themselves on one these alien technology Chevy Volts. Then they’ll be breaking out the cans of Diet Dr. Pepper!  Electric cars–oh please. That’s so 1950’s. I think bigger. Cars that will cook your meals and give you full body massages; cars that display an LED middle finger to the guy tailgating you; or even hover cars for your pets!  Then my era of tyranny will begin (mad scientist laughter)!  In the meantime, maybe I’ll just do some mug sketches at the police station, or better yet, court room drawings. I bet those guys are pulling in some major bank.

In the movie “The Wraith” we get to see a prototype car brought to life from the kings of two-star crash test rating, Chrysler. Don’t worry, Chrysler lawyer guys, I haven’t found my old transformer sketchpad yet, so I can’t prove you stole my ideas. However, if you happen to leave a Dodge Viper in my garage, we can just call it even. Charlie Sheen plays 

Jake, the avenging spirit of a young man named James who was killed a few years earlier by the town’s one and only car racing, chop-shopping punk-rockin’ gang. Packard is their leader, who stabbed James when he caught him getting naked with his girlfriend, Keri. Perhaps Packard just saw the show “Two and a Half Men”, and that drove him to fits of homicidal rage.  Jake’s/James’ revenge weapon of choice is a Chrysler Interceptor prototype, except this car doesn’t run on unleaded–it runs on soul-sucking, netherworld power. It’s also indestructible and leaves its victims without their eyeballs and with a severe case of albinism.

Two of Packard’s gang members, Skank and Gutterboy (named that because their mommas didn’t liked them), and a Jimmy Neutron hair stylin’ Clint Howard are told to keep tabs on Keri, who’s been hanging out a lot lately with Jake since he stalked her at the quarry. When does Jake find the time for romance and quarry haunting with all the killing he has to get done? Gang members are picked-off one by one in various car races on the back roads near town, where the loser earns a head-on collision with the Interceptor in a fiery death of twisted metal. Yet each subsequent driver always feels like this time he’ll be the lucky winner and not end up engulfed in a ball of flames as his soul is siphoned off for the Wraith’s soul engine. The only thing that can stop the revenge Sheen-spree is Randy Quaid, the local inept law enforcement officer, and when he’s not spouting redneck Haikus, he’s roughing-up punk teens and trying to play catch-up to the death-mobile.  

Clint Howard

Packard has become more and more irritable as his gang membership dues are dwindling, so he kidnaps Keri, who unfortunately picked  the worst time to grow a spine and stand up to him with harsh words about his manhood and choice of hair gels.  Before Packard can man-handle Keri, the wraith car shows up for one final big race.  It kills Packard, and then James or Jake leaves the killer car with his brother, so he can drive off into the sunset with Keri on his unholy dirt bike. “Thanks, bro, for leaving me the car that every cop in the county is looking for.”

“Hey, it’s hos before the bros.” – Charlie Sheen

A great late-night 80’s sci-fi classic that used to play endlessly on TNT before Ted Turner went stone-cold bonkers.  While not on par with classics like “Gone in 60 Seconds” or “Vanishing Point”, it’s still a Charlie Sheen-tastic movie.  However, the real star of the show–in my opinion–is the cool-as-ice Dodge Interceptor.  I bet Charlie never thought he’d get out-acted by a car. I bet Charlie’s mom never thought he would act.

Roadside Attractions

-roller derby hooter girls
-fuel sipping punk rockers
-automobile shot put
-Randy Quaid-o-rama
-glowing leg braces
-Sheen-tastical stunts
-5 car explosions
-1 motorcycle chase
-redneck hot tubbing
-quarry beach sunbathing
-Chrysler teleportor/Onstar upgrade 

rated 9.1 out of 10 for the movie

“Can your drug-fried brain handle that, maggot?  Or have you been too busy pulling your insignificant pud to pay attention?”

Randy Quaid, your words are like golden nuggets of wisdom from heaven.  Little known fact, Randy Quaid also runs on a combo of vegetable oil and Diet Dr. Pepper.

Check out the trailer for The Wraith

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