Some Spoiler-Free(ish) Thoughts on Godzilla 2014

As mentioned in my review for Godzilla 2000, I did indeed make it out to the big comfy recliner chairs of my local AMC Loews (with my pockets and jacket sleeves stuffed with snacks and drinks from the nearby Dollar Embargo) to partake in the new Big G-stravaganza. Overall, I was very pleased. I won’t be doing a full review until the DVD releases (or 3 weeks before, when the internet cavaliers make it available to the masses), because I gotta have my  screen shots, but here are a few bullet points cuz I like to stick my unsolicited opinion out there! Just think of me like your friendly neighborhood flasher! …and no, you can’t call the police on me for reviewing movies near playgrounds, so don’t bother.

– Godzilla himself looked great. The computer generated effects looked great. I’m happy with the new, bulkier design. If you hated the sleeker “bulimic” 1998 version, this is pretty much as far opposite as you can get without Godzilla looking like a 500ft tall William Howard Taft. I would’ve preferred a more traditional mouth blast, but the burning blue napalm thing was good too, in a “that’s different” way.

– I’m glad I stayed away from spoilers, because the new MUTO monster came with a few surprises that I liked being surprised by. MUTO’s particular method of offensive evolution is a little story specific though, so… that’s weird. But evolution’s weird sometimes, right? I mean, he could’ve been a giant platypus or something.

– The kaiju combat is… interesting. I mean, there’s a LOT of it, but I would like to have seen… more of it? If you’ve seen it, you get where I’m coming from. If you haven’t seen it yet, you’ll understand after you do. Coming from the director of Monsters though, I pretty much expected this.

– Finally, I don’t mind the human-centric story at all. Godzilla is generally more a story element than a starring role for any movie. He can’t talk (and the one time he did it murdered my soul as a boy), so his movies are always more about what the humans are up to and how they plan to stop him than watching big monsters throw down for an hour and a half. My major quibble though is that the Brody family has both the worst and best luck of ANY trio in the world. I mean, they gotta eat Luck Charms 5 times a day and walk under ladders while they do so. It’s a little ridiculous.

Also, as a sequel has already been announced due to the MASSIVE near $200 million the movie took in worldwide for its opening weekend, here are a few things I’d like to see happen:

– In the movie, Godzilla is referred to as being the closest thing to an actual god that has ever walked the face of the Earth. In lieu of his big coming out, I want to see a Church of Godzilla. It doesn’t have to be a major plot point, I’d be happy with it being seen in a brief news clip on someone’s TV.

-Do not bring back the Brodys. There’s no reason. Bring back Ken Watanabe though, because it makes total sense.

– Instead of updating a classic Toho monster, given the aforementioned stressing of the “God” in Godzilla, have him fight a modernized embodiment of a god or god-like creature. Cthulhu. Quetzalcoatl. Leviathan. The Phoenix. The Kraken. Or do a Destroy All Monsters and just toss ’em all in there!

– Please don’t call it Godzilla 2. Go the traditional route and call it Godzilla Vs. (Monster’s Name Here). Or go with the Godzilla: Destroy All Monsters idea in case the world ends before there can be a third movie.  Personally, my life would be complete if it turns out they call it Gigantis the Fire Monster and Anguirus is the antagonist…

– GIVE ME JET JAGUAR!

Episode 27 – Godzilla 2000 (1999)

or “Children of a Lesser Godzilla”

Featuring: Takehiro “Vengeance for Sale” Murata , Hiroshi “My Love is a Sniper: the Movie” Abe , Naomi “The Happiness of the Katakuris” Nishida

Director: Takao “Godzilla Vs. Destroyah” Okawara

Writers: Hiroshi “Godzilla Vs. Space Godzilla” Kashiwabara , Wataru “Godzilla: Final Wars” Mimura

Origin: Japan

Sequel to: Godzilla (1954)

Other movies in the Godzilla “Millennium” series: Godzilla vs. Megaguirus / Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack / Godzilla Against MechaGodzilla / Godzilla: Tokyo S.O.S. / Godzilla: Final Wars

Review_____

“It’ll go through Godzilla like CRAP through a goose!”

So, by the time this posts, America will have made its second attempt at a Godzilla movie, and for the second time the titular engine of destruction is going to be played by a bunch of digital wizard sorcery rather than some masochist in a big rubber mutant Barney suit. I will have not seen the new movie by this time either, as scheduling conflicts have forced me to push back my viewing until Monday. I have no doubt this movie will already induce an exponentially meatier fanboy hard-on than the universally loathed 1998 “Fakezilla” flub, a.k.a. CGG (Computer Generated Godzilla). Take away my G-Club membership card if you have to, but I actually paid to see that movie theatrically TWICE, and don’t bear an ounce of shame admitting to it. I enjoyed it. It was campy, dumb, summer blockbuster merchandising popcorn fun. Your hate mail be damned! I have every faith in this new movie being amazing, if for nothing else than we’ve replaced Matthew “Glug-glug, vroom-vroom, thump-thump” Broderick with Bryan “THE ONE WHO KNOCKS!” Cranston. Unfortunately, no matter how good it is it’ll never be as good as it could have been if this fucking poster were canon.

A diaper full of scarabs to the bastard who created that mock-up, because as one of the only 7 living Jet Jaguar fans on the face of this Earth (as opposed to the alternate Earth I want to live on where all of humanity ARE Jet Jaguars), I’m crushed with the hopelessness of knowing this is not a dimension where the events of this poster will ever come to pass. Speaking of heart eclipsing disappointments (with all due respect to Bonnie Tyler…however little that may be), here’s my review for Godzilla 2000!

Okay, let’s blow up the irradiated elephant monster in the room first. Technically the original Japanese version of this flick, Godzilla Millenium, was released at the asshole end of 1999. Normally this would disqualify it from being reviewed on this site, since my edict stands that only movies from the current millennium are subject to my publicly published punditry. BUT, and there’s a BIG but here (as I like big buts and I cannot lie), the version of the movie I’m dragging onto Maat’s scales is the American dub. This version wasn’t released into theaters until the dog days of the 2000 blockbuster season (where all “big budget movies bound to fail” get their last rites), so you can make the case (which I am) that Godzilla 2000 counts as a current millennium movie. Most of the people who do read this couldn’t care less, but even if you do find yourself disagreeing with me, too bad. It’s my site, shit pants! Now, let’s get down to fucking this chicken!

Toho’s ”Millennium Series” of G movies ran with the incredibly interesting premise of “every story takes place in its own alternate dimension that branches off of the events from the original Godzilla ’54”… with the exception of Tokyo S.O.S., which was a direct sequel to Against Mechagodzilla. But, that’s a (very large and spiny) tail for another review…HOMONYMS! Anyway, this split time line starts us off almost 50 years after Godzilla was seemingly disintegrated by the Oxygen Destroyer bomb, and makes no explanation of why said destruction of his oxygen didn’t quite take so permanently as they’d hoped. Whatever the poorly unillustrated case, the important thing is that Godzilla’s here, he’s queer, now get used to it. He shows up in Tokyo every so often, presumably drawn by the serious output of energy given off by their power plants. Who’s making this presumption? Father-daughter science nerds Yuji (Takehiro Murata) and Io Shinoda (Mayu Suzuki). The Shinodas are a lovable duo, with Poppa Yuji being the soft spoken single dad doin’ the best he can, and Io being the smart-ass little miss takin’ care of business. They’re the heads of the Godzilla Prediction Network – a small group of independent science types whose aim is to study Big G in the name of science, and to hopefully forecast his visits ahead of time so everybody in Japan can lock their doors, turn off all their lights, and just pretend not to be home. Yes, a force of nature given form that causes untold levels of destruction every time he feels like going for a stroll, and these lovable refugees from a rejected sitcom pilot are responsible for trying to map out his next walkabout. Only in Japan, people.

Tagging along with the Shinodas is Yuki “Itchy Nose” Ichinose (Naomi Nishida), a newspaper photographer looking to get some glamour shots of Godzilla to help elevate herself out of the fashion beat and into the hard nose world of real Japanese news, like sex robots and teenage suicide clubs. She might try getting pictures of Spider-Man. I hear there’s a guy in New York who REALLY wants pictures of Spider-Man. Though she gets up close and personal with Godzilla in a way that only the leviathan’s dentist knows him, this Asian O’Neil (which makes no sense because she’s a photog, not a reporter nor a porn star) is shit outta luck, cuz the living radioactive fallout’s nuclear b.o. ruins her film…and probably will result in her giving birth to mutant Mothra larvae within a week. Or just kill her with some form of agonizing intestinal super cancer. Science fictional horror or science factual horror, either way Miss Ichinose is probably going to spend the final weeks of her life in relentless agony while her body rots inside and out as a result.

Just call me Eclipso, kids, because I bring the darkness.

On the flip side of our tale is the government sponsored Crisis Control Intelligence, headed by Yuji’s (not to be confused with Yuki, so try to keep ’em straight) former friend and science collaborator Mitsuo Katagiri (Hiroshi Abe). Given that Godzilla is to Japan as bears are to Stephen Colbert, He’s always atop Tokyo’s Threatdown. As crisis-in-need-of-control number-o one-o, He’s also Mitsuo’s given nemesis, so Mr. Katagiri’s always trying to find a way to kill Godzilla once and for all, not unlike Wile E. Coyote trying to murder the Road Runner. Speaking of, K Fed’s latest shipment from Acme is a series of “full metal missiles” whose penetration factor rates at Wilt Chamberlain levels and come with the money back guarantee that they’ll “go through Godzilla like CRAP through a goose!”. A fantastic quote from U.S general Georgie Patton that makes the English dub all worthwhile! And I typed that without a drop of sarcasm…nor that. Seriously, I love that line.

Godzilla’s not the only item on CCI’s docket though. They’re also responsible for the discovery and recovery of an odd mass of rock found at the bottom of the Pacific. When they attempt to raise the mass, it stirs to life and surfaces under its own strength! Attempts at exploratory drilling through the mass prove fruitless and it just sits there floating like a living island. Though not half as cool Krakoa, the literal living island. 200 geek points to anyone who knows what the fuck I’m talking about without resorting to a searcher. There’s a John Wayne joke in there somewhere, but I don’t have time to look for it, because back to Godzilla! As for those goose crap armaments, Godzilla shows up again and gives the Japan Self Defense Force a chance to prove the Blue Oyster Cult right yet again about how “nature points out the folly of men”. Aside from a few blasted outer dermal layers, the missiles fail to get any deeper into the lizard king than “just the tip”, let alone go through him like the promise goose feces. If nothing else, at least the military has managed to provide Godzilla with something he can use to scrape off his callouses.

The huge rock (which turns out to be an ancient solar powered spaceship caked in 60 millions years of scabby growth) does some kind of long distance bio-scan of Godzilla, flies off to attack our cold blooded anti-hero, and tries to death ray his big ol’ lizard tits off! But, when Zills returns fire with his atomic halitosis beam (which is the only digital effect that actually looks REEEEEEEEEEEALLY good!), the revealed star cruiser beats a hasty retreat. Godzilla heads back to the depths of the Pacific to nurse his wounds, and Yuji discovers some shed skin cells left behind in the reptile’s massive footprints on the beach…of which there is no corresponding tail trail!? Sweet Isis, my nitpickery will be the death of me. Yuji forms an uneasy alliance with his antagonists in the CCI so he can utilize their vast scientific resources to research said cells. He isolates the phenomenal genetic factor that allows Godzilla to heal from traumatic injury, and dubs the radioactive mutation “Regenerator G1”. Yuji hopes to use G1 as the basis for a miracle drug that will cure all ailments of man, both those known and those as-yet-to-be-suffered. So, if Godzilla or the CCI doesn’t kill him first, you can bet that the pharmaceutical industry won’t let him live long enough to even test his proposed creation, let alone save the world with it.

Having shed its stone exterior (and revealing itself to look like what I can best describe as RoboCop’s codpiece), the mysterious ship nests itself upon the Tokyo Opera City Tower (which makes me miss the traditional kaiju magnet, Tokyo Tower) and hacks its way into local data networks to learn more about its new foe as well as the planet upon which they now intend to reside. You know, not unlike how Jeff Goldblum was able to hack into the aliens’ systems in Independence Day, thus providing further evidence that Bill Gates found an alien craft that crashed behind his family’s barn as a child and reverse engineered it to create Windows 1.0. Soaking up citywide input like Johnny 5 on a bender, the craft’s probably stealing the identities of everyone in Japan to sell to the denizens of Planet X, who plan to put Japan’s credit rating deeper down the crapper than Reptilicus’s career. This is why you don’t skimp on your anti-virus program, people!

Everyone becomes terrified that the ship’s theft of their data will somehow plunge their island nation into a world-ending scenario, resulting in the catastrophic deaths of every last man, woman, and child. I’d hate to see what madness would be wrought if they had to deal with the shit data plan my current phone service shafts me with. This apocalyptic reading of everybody’s browsing history (lot of perverts in the land of the rising sun) must be stopped, so CCI plan on blowing up the Tower to stop the downloading before the aliens can finish pirating every season of “Dragonball Zincluding all of the side movies! Naturally, Yuki and the Shinodas end up neck deep in the lettuce and tomatoes of this shit sandwich as they remain in the tower to attempt reverse hacking the aliens’ data stream and figure out what it is the out-of-towners are specifically searching for. Speaking of, their creeping of Godzilla’s LinkedIn profile turns up Yuji’s G1 research, which in turn provides them with a way to create bodies that can adapt to Earth’s atmosphere and avoid any embarrassing War of the Worlds or Signs scenarios when they’re ready to make their bid for planetary conquest.

Despite learning that his former friend Yuji is still in the building when it comes time to detonate the place, Katagiri 5 (PUNS!) goes full blown bad guy and authorizes the demolition to go through as planned. The unfortunate thing about Kats is that he’s perfectly positioned to be in the unappealing position of the guy who has to make the hard choices, as the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few and it’s all up to him to make sure the many persevere by whatever means necessary. Even this moment, where he chooses to sacrifice his friend-turned-rival, can easily be handled with a regretful-but-necessary tone. Instead, at least for the American dub, Special K is sold to us as a complete dick from the outset, complete with garish super-villain laugh! For a movie that’s supposed to make people take rubber behemoths stomping model cities seriously, presenting Katagiri as a borderline Dick Dastardly probably wasn’t the best idea, Toho. Blart.

The good guys make it out of the devastation relatively unscathed, as you probably imagined they would. They actually end up joining Katagiri (no hard feeling for trying to kill us, I guess) and the rest of the CCI big wigs atop a nearby building so as to watch the rest of the movie play out. Speaking of, Godzilla shows up for their rematch and the aliens, needing that sweet sweet Regenerator juice, body check Big G with some kind of force blast (okay, the only other good looking digital effect besides Godzilla’s fire) and drop a skyscraper on him! Using what little DNA they were able to scrap from He Who Is Both Large and In Charge, the aliens take form outside of their ship in the form of the massive monster Millennian, which is yet another piece of evidence for the prosecution against computer visual effects. Millennian looks like the bastard offspring of one of those classic gray skin big head “X-Files” alien types after a gene-splice mambo menage-a-trois with a giant squid and one of those forgotten Toho mushroom monsters from Matango. Fortunately, Earth’s polluted atmosphere mutates this form further and by the time it’s taken its final form (the Japanese love their transforming characters), we’re looking at the monstrous Orga, who more resembles a deformed, inside-out crocodile as drawn by H.R. Giger, that was caked in a mixture of Fluff and primer, then thrown into an atomic microwave to bake for a few hours.

Attempting to steal Godzilla’s genetic material (I guess asking him to jerk off into a paper cup would be too awkward) so he can both become a complete clone of Big Poppa G and get the old man out of the way of their plans to takeover the Earth at the same time, Orga throws down his big ham-fisty gauntlet. Despite the high quality of the costumes, the duo’s tussle about the cityscape really isn’t one for the G-Man’s highlight reel. Though Godzilla throws a few impressive tail attacks, his face is emotionless as his mouth flaps unconvincingly and his eyes stare blankly forward. Orga as a whole is a bit unwieldy, so the combat involved a lot of lumbering and isn’t exactly the most visually dynamic. Big O (neither the robot nor the orgasm, so don’t get excited) gets bossed pretty hard by the Zillster, until he drops his jaw like an anaconda and tries to full on devour the king of monsters. Before he can finish absorbing Godzilla though, G just sticks his head inside Orga’s huge flappy vagina maw and fills him full of hellfire vomit, blowing him into chunks. Again, not the greatest return match for a guy who’s last on-screen title bout was his classic against Destoroyah. All the more disappointing since director Takao Okawara is the very same man who brought us that very same clash of titans so very un-samely.

Having triumphed over the invaders, Gorilla Whale (what “God-zilla” translates into in Japanese) for no feasible reason, makes his way over to the cast, still in their spot atop the cheap seats building. While everyone else backs off in utter terror at getting the cockroach treatment, Katagiri stands tall in the face of his nemesis, shouts “GODZILLAAAAAAAAA!” in defiance while Yuji shouts “KATAGIRIIIIIIIIIIII!” (and all I can picture is the “KANADAAAAAA!” “TETSUOOOOO!” scene from Akira), then Kat ends his tale with a 60 story swan dive when the raging reptile casually swats at the rooftop like he couldn’t give two shits. Pro tip: don’t yell at giant monsters. They can make your entire time on this Earth a complete waste with less effort than it takes to scratch their ass. You are less than a dingle berry to them. Our movie ends with Io asking why Godzilla continues to protect humanity (what?!), to which her father ponders, “Maybe because Godzilla is inside of every one of us.” WHAT…THE…FUCK. He’s spent the whole movie telling us his theory that Godzilla was being drawn to the huge throbbing bug zapper-like power output that keeps Tokyo running, but now he says “Fuck it!” and, just like Springfield, GODZILLA IS A PART OF US ALL! A PART OF US ALL! A PART OF US ALL! The two most scientifically grounded members of the ensemble, and they both just turn into the morons who write whimsical morals for kids’ fairy tales for the last 2 minutes of the movie!? Godzilla was not there to save humanity because we’re his beloved children! He was there to prove to the aliens that he had a bigger dick! He beat them down with his dick, he told the humans not to fuck with him or they’d get the same, then he pissed off! Jeezus on a water slide! Is the oxygen they breathe in this alternate dimension heavily saturated with THC!? Oh, wait, I know what’s going on – all of their exposure to Godzilla’s fallout has given them brain tumors and said tumors have grown so large that the logic parts of their brains have been crushed by the weight. I’m a doctor, and this is the only plausible answer. End of story.

Okay, let’s get to the nitty gritty of this shitty ditty. Where do I start? Well, let’s start with the start. Makes sense, right? The movie wastes no time in showing off our titular terror, which bucks the usual Toho blueprint of making the audience earn their pure chewing kaiju satisfaction. Sad to say, this actually leads to a bit of a Godzilla overdose. And not a ketamine k-hole overdose, where you slip into a pleasure coma from which you couldn’t care less whether you re-emerge or not. No, with the horrible green screen, poor light/color correction, and generally miserable computer generated monster effects on display here, it’s more like an overdose on laxatives – cuz there’s SHIT EVERYWHERE! The whole shebang looks like it had about as much budget as an episode of “Bibleman”…wait…is that Willie Aames in the Godzilla suit?! Seriously though, this is the ugliest Godzilla movie I’ve ever seen. I’ll take traditional suitmation with costumes that are coming apart at the seams from overuse being shot at by little wind up toys with fireworks attached to them over these piss poor digital effects. It’s possible it’s all one big elbow to the ribs poking fun at ‘Merica Godzilla being 100% binary, but if Toho really was being that petty to the extent of shitting in their own cereal bowl, that aforementioned elbow is being thrown by friggin’ Ryu Hoshi of Street Fighter fame, and the ribs belong to Karen Carpenter of “skeleton with skin stretched over it” infamy.

I’m not exaggerating when I say this folks: the green screen effects in this movie look like they were done by the remedial class of the visual effects program at a community college. They’re so reprehensibly bad that they drag you kicking and screaming from the movie’s illusion like former senator Larry Craig being dragged from a Shakespeare In the Park men’s room production of Gay Boys in Bondage. I’ve seen better effects work in small town used car lot commercials! Godzilla changes colors between shots because somebody chose to take a nap rather than get the color correction actually correct. There’s a brief scene of Godzilla swimming underwater that looks like a cinematic lifted from a PlayStation 2 game. When people drive away from Godzilla, rather than shrinking into the horizon with the rest of the background, G Money maintains his screen stature, giving the confusing illusion that he’s actually GROWING IN SIZE AT AN ALARMING RATE FOR NO REASON! As salt into our already wounded eyes, tanks, choppers, and ships are pasted over footage of real life landscapes, and in the case of the ships, they sit complacent while the waters over which they’re super-imposed are churned violently. The opposite holds true for Godzilla, whose massive form has NO displacement effect on the waters through which he stomps, even when he’s being bombarded with high-impact explosives! If Archimedes filled his bathtub with this kind of magical Japanese movie water, we wouldn’t have the principle of buoyancy and high school science teachers wouldn’t have that infamous “Eureka!” story of one of history’s smartest individuals running naked through the streets shouting what boils down to “I HAVE FOUND IT!”. Because old man penis is the only way to get kids to pay attention in school.

The good news is that once Orga’s taken his final, rubber-suited form, Toho mitigates and amends their shame a bit, as it becomes all about what brought the franchise to the dance: live-action monster brawling!…with the exception of a miniscule interruption by Orga’s big dumb flying cyborg maxi-pad so Godzilla can finally blow it into fragments and give fans a moderately soothing salve for their PTSSD – Post Traumatic Shitty Spaceship Disorder. The fight itself isn’t anything to sing the praises of, but the suits and model city are glorious to behold. Moreso in the wake of all of the garbage water we were having hosed into our oculars up until then.

The writing and acting are fine. They play it straight for the most part, which is either a relief or a disappointment depending on what you expect from a Godzilla movie. There are a couple of slapstick scenes that feel REALLY out of place in a flick where the light-hearted comedy bits are best left to dialogue only. The funny part is that most fanboys decry the American dub for adding in these comedy lines (all approved by Toho, mind you) for what they swear is a serious movie (a serious movie about kaiju cosplay), but the goofy slapstick stuff that I thought were the real pimples on the production are all Toho’s fault! Speaking of oozing blemishes, generally I wish nothing but violent slow motion deaths for child characters. As such, I was very surprised and very relieved that Io didn’t rile those homicidal tendencies up once the entire movie. She’s not precocious and she’s not naive. She’s smarter than most of the adults in the cast and she’s all serious business with the exception of busting Yuki’s balls on occasion. Given the history of annoyance brought on by kids in giant monster movies with their creepy little shorts and stupid little faces, Io is a breath of fresh air in a genre polluted by Kenny farts. Don’t know who Kenny is? Got 100 or so minutes to spare? Then click this link and arm yourselves with knowledge, kids!

I had high hopes for G2K. After CGG, a return to Coke Classic was just what the irradiated physician prescribed. You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone, right? This trailer promised monster smashing action and rang through my soul with the harmonious ear blistering of Rob Zombie’s “Superbeast”. Truly this Godzilla was the one that I wanted. Truly this Godzilla was my Superbeast. And then I went to the movie opening weekend with my compatriot in sub-par cinema and fellow alumni of the H.O.P.E.L.E.S.S. pantheon, Sosab Egroeg, and…I fell asleep. My first theatrical Toho outing since Godzilla 1985, and I was bored into unconsciousness. Given that it opened at number 11 on the box office charts, it looks like I wasn’t the only one. The complete lack of even a lick of Rob Zombie music, combined with those terrible effects that felt like punishment on high from a bitter God(zilla), killed my enthusiasm faster than Nancy Grace kills erections. I woke up half way through the big battle royal finale, regained a modicum of my geek stiffy, then had it shot straight into the floor with that closing exchange about Godzilla saving people (ARGH!) and being a part of all of us… and I swear, if Killer Ken Watanabe or Flyin’ Bryan Cranston say anything to either of those effects when I see the new movie tomorrow, I will make widows of the theater employees’ wives. Mark my words…unless you’re in law enforcement, in which case I’m just kidding and you can un-mark my words. Seriously though, (War)heads will roll!

Moral of the Story: “It woke up after 60 million years, and Godzilla destroyed it the very next day.” In other words, Godzilla 1, History 0.

Screenshots_____

“I told you to just buy a GPS at the store! But NOOOOO, ‘I can build one myself for WAY cheaper than $50’ you said! You’ve spent $2000 on this stupid thing, and it STILL doesn’t work! Then you bought this van just so you’d have room to fit the stupid thing in! I want a divorce!”


Being Godzilla’s dentist is a dangerous job, and it doesn’t pay anything, he just doesn’t crush your house or office during his rampages.


Sure, you think that going to a sex robot sales seminar with your boss will be good for a laugh, but once you’ve seen such things, they can never be unseen…


I hope that’s just a Baby Ruth… a really, really, REALLY big Baby Ruth. There isn’t a big enough pool net in the world to scoop that up!


Here is one of the 477 government data banks that Japan uses to store the nation’s pornography. This facility is dedicated solely to videos of girls dressed like animals putting live eels up their butts!


I know you guys are sick of Godzilla stomping on your stuff, but come on. You never shoot a dude in the junk, giant irradiated lizard or not. It’s the first fucking tenant of the man code!


If erection lasts more than 4 hours, call a doctor. If erection becomes a 200 foot tall pillar of solid stone… shit, you’re on your own.


And Godzilla replied, “My precious, precious child. I love you, and I would never, never leave you during your times of trial and suffering. When you saw only one set of footprints, It was then that I had stepped on you.”


“Hey mamacita! I was gonna ask you for directions to where all the hot ladies hang out, but it looks like I’m already here!… How much for ass to mouth?”


“Here you go, all Tomb Raider games, all with built in nude mode. Just enter ↑ ↑ ↓ ↓ ← → ← → B A at the title screen to activate it. $200.”


“I know the general said it would go through Godzilla like crap through a goose, but I didn’t expect actual crap… fuck it, I’m not cleaning that up!”


I see the new athletic cup Ultraman ordered finally came in! Those giant outer space monsters tend to fight dirty.


“Yum”? Someone should probably tell Japan that Apple computers aren’t actually made of apples. I guess that explains why denture orders went up 3000% that year.


“Hmmmm, ‘Action Bastard‘ comes on when Gamera’s big arm is pointing at the 6 and his little arm is pointing at the 8, so… I gotta get home!”


Toho uses the movie to debut their newest kids’ educational TV show host, Rapey the Happy Hentai Monster!


Big G looks like he just stepped in a big pile of Hedorah and needs a McDonald’s to wipe his foot on.


I know every grown man in Japan is a creepy voyeur, but come on guys. These two are just young and in love, and they deserve a little privacy.


It still amazes me that this disclaimer needs to be added in on movies like this. But then, I could totally see one of those monster hunting TV show idiots trying to sue Toho for making characters so obviously based on their own life’s work.

Anubis will return next time in
“Alma Mind Over Alma Mater”

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All materials found within this review are the intellectual properties and opinions of the original writer. The Tomb of Anubis claims no responsibility for the views expressed in this review, but we do lay a copyright claim on it beeyotch, so don’t steal from this shit or we’ll have to go all Farmer Vincent on your silly asses. © October 1st 2013 and beyond, not to be reproduced in any way without the express written consent of the reviewer and The Tomb of Anubis, or pain of a physical and legal nature will follow. Touch not lest ye be touched.

Hans Rudolf Giger: Feb 5th, 1940 – May 12th, 2014

H.R. Giger’s passed on to that big Xenomorph leather industrial fetish dungeon in the great beyond. I’ve been enamored by the man’s magnificent creations since I saw an article on him in an old issue of Penthouse in junior high. In his honor, here are my three favorite Giger pieces – click on the pics for larger images.

The Crucified Serpent

-The Crucified Serpent-

Birth Machine

-Birth Machine-

The Spell II

The Spell II-

Happy Smothers Day

Today’s episode is probably gonna be bumped till tomorrow due to technical difficulties and mandatory praise to mother Isis as per the holiday. Maybe I’ll get things finished later post-festivities, but as it stands, don’t hold your breath… because you’ll probably die… and I’m taking the day off, so you’re just gonna sit there stuck in your carcass till I go back on the clock. Anyway, for today, a happy Mothers’ Day to all you MILFs out there from me and everybody’s favorite momma’s boy!

jason mom

Episode 26 – Stage Fright (2014)

or “Everybody’s a Critic”

Featuring: Allie “House at the End of the Street” MacDonald , Meat Loaf “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” Aday , Minnie “Grosse Pointe Blank” Driver

Director: Jerome “ABCs of Death 2” Sable

Writers: Jerome “ABCs of Death 2” Sable , Eli Batalion

Origin: Canada

Review_____

“Kylie Swanson slept with so many people on Broadway, they called her ‘The Great White Lay’!”

There was a local legend in my neck of the cosmic woods about a disfigured creature who lived in a dumpster behind the local Taco Bell and attacked random drive-thru customers after dark. It would make off with their orders and escape into the night, consuming the purloined fast food feasts to provide itself with the saturated fats and high sodium its unique biology required for survival. Some said it was a former employee traumatically mutated thusly: an assistant manager (in a direct insult to the gods) offered him two straight Thursdays off with pay if he would consume an unholy brew consisting of one packet of each type of Taco Bell sauce mixed into a 40oz cup of Baja Blast, poured over a half-eaten Beefy 5 Layer Burrito and some Volcano Nachos left behind by a mysterious customer dressed all in black (who paid for his meal with Canadian currency) and microwaved it for 66 seconds at .6 power. The nightmarish brew turned the young register jockey into an abomination that would be dubbed by the hushed whispers of the townies as the Chalupacabra.

As an amateur Cryptozoologist (and in need of money to help fund my proposed Tomb of Anubis book project), I man-jackaled my own solo mission to shackle this horror and put it on display for public entertainment at county fairs and truck pull events. Unfortunately, my investigation did not turn up a gordita thieving freak. No, the so-called Chalupacabra was just a local homeless guy named Pete who had bitten off a drive-thru girl’s pinky finger one night after he’d huffed a whole can of Rust-Oluem. Pete had no mysterious origin, mystical or otherwise, he’d just lost his job when the ChiChi’s next door closed down, and moved into the Taco Bell dumpster rather than take up at a homeless shelter. What the fuck does my story have to do with today’s movie? My very simple, reasonable expectations and the universe’s continued failure to meet them…and my need to make “Chalupcabra” a matter of public record so I can claim copyright on it if Taco Bell ever tries to steal the name from me for use as a new corporate mascot. Which they desperately need, cuz you know that “Yo quiero Taco Bell!” dog died YEARS ago.

News of Stage Fright came to me from my Evil Dead Bride at first under the perception that it would be a remake of the 1987 Italian slasher flick of the same name, also known by its first moniker, Deliria. In anticipation, we sought said cinematic situation, and sat through 2hrs of goofy in a 90min tow away zone. By which I mean it was a bizarre little movie about a stab happy murderer stalking the cast of a corny ’80s rock opera while wearing a big creep-ass owl mask. It’s good old fashioned spaghetti sauce from the “the more dead young people the better” decade. When it finally came time to taste test this new Stage Fright, despite some very loose similarities (a masked killer stalking the cast of an absurd musical), our aforementioned prior perception turned out to be a misconception. Disheartening, given how the original was good for some freaky visuals, slick slaughter, and a few absurd chuckles. Blart.

Oh well, as I always say, expectations are the fault of the expecter. For instance, if you were expecting me not to make up a word like “expecter”, you failed. You get NOTHING! You LOSE! GOOD DAY, SIR! Anyway, in case you too were suffering from the same delusions of campy grandeur as we were, welcome to reality. Pardon the smell. We haven’t been able to find the cause and we’re pretty much hoping it dissipates on its own eventually. Speaking of campy…

Kylie Swanson (Minnie Driver… who gets top fucking billing for TEN MINUTES OF WORK!) was once a lauded stage performer (acting not stripping, thank Set!) on the verge of her big break – starring in a critically acclaimed production of Haunting of the Opera (because Phantom’s probably copyrighted out the ass). Too bad for her that an unidentified guy in the masked Phantom-esque killer’s costume cut her career violently short with a sizable bit of Slash Co. brand stabware, which he demoed for her across her throat and into her mouth! Mamma mia, that’s a spicy piece of stainless steel! Only from Slash Co.!

Ten years after the fatal fall of Kylie (a book title if I’ve ever heard one), her twin children Camilla (Allie MacDonald) and Buddy (Douglas Smith) have reached adulthood under the parentage of Kylie’s then boyfriend and producer Roger McCall (Meat Loaf – that’s exactly how he’s credited on his IMDB page!), who took the kids under his care in the wake of their mother’s gruesome windpipe ventilation reassignment procedure. No longer enjoying the life of a successful producer, Roger’s since tobogganed face first down the icy slope of financial collapse since Kylie’s demise and has invested what little he had left into establishing Center Stage – a summer camp for aspiring child performers (where the twins work in the kitchen). Through Center Stage, Roger hopes to exploit any burgeoning young success stories from which can get himself an AC/DC: back in black…though his dirty deeds done dirt cheap will probably get him thunderstruck on a highway to Hell with his balls to the wall! Wait, that last one was Accept. However, if you want blood, you’ve got it! Sorry, there’s no more blood yet, I was just caught up in the AC/DC thing. I’ve gotta stop listening to music when I write these things.

Back to the beaten path, the underage attendees of this little refugee camp for failed “Glee” hopefuls have a tendency to break into song and prance as if they’d previously rehearsed these spontaneous acts of musical mirth. I thought I was walking into a cheesy slasher romp, but it appears I’ve stumbled into a little too much whimsy and much too little horror. This year’s big camp production is a kabuki (“Bukkake?”) rendition of…can you guess? Go on, give it a shot. Did you figure it out yet? If you guessed anything other than Haunting of the Opera, I’d like you to go back to every teacher you had from grade school to whatever your highest level of education may be, and slap each of them for failing you. If any of them are dead, let me know who and I’ll slap them for you here in the Underworld.

As for that play, the acting and/or singing bug hasn’t just bitten Camilla, it’s crawled up her nose, eaten half of her Medulla Oblongata, and laid eggs in her Fissure of Rolando. Inspired by an autographed 8×10 of her mom (long story, don’t ask), Cammy takes center stage (no pun intended) of our story as she bucks Roger’s rules about only campers being allowed to audition for the shows, and snags herself a chance at the role her mom originated as the female lead! Whose name I forget because who cares. Despite McCall’s misgivings, the show’s assigned director/romantic lead/self-proclaimed artist/biggest douche bag in the state, Artie Getz (Brandon Uranowitz…no, YOU’RE ano…is…witz…shut up!), insists that the fresh faced lass be his leading lady. He did helm their previous summer’s bold musical re-imagining of The Vagina Monologues after all, so he must know what he’s doing…that, and Cam’s the only legal age ass in the camp he hasn’t had on his casting couch yet. Finally given a chance to make her dead momma proud and do something with her life that doesn’t involve Brill-O pads and industrial sized cans of spaghetti sauce (that’s mostly watered down ketchup), Camilla couldn’t be happier and dedicates herself wholly to her new craft. As for brother Buddy, he’s not happy with the arrangement, as it leaves him with twice the workload now while he picks up the proverbial slack left by sister’s absence. Someone else not happy with Cammy’s leading role is Liz Silver (Melanie Leishman), the resident diva of the program who will do whatever she has to to get the spotlight onto her cunty mug instead…including murder? You never know.

Except that I do, because I’ve already seen it, hence this review.

While all of this has been playing out, a manic figure dressed in black has been lurking in a nondescript, poorly lit room at an undisclosed place. I’m not entirely sure he’s even on the campgrounds, to be honest. Our obvious killer-to-be spends his time wailing on his electric guitar and screeching like Sebastian Bach (his rock opera performances will either give you a tongue-in-cheek laugh or a spike-in-the-butt aggravation) as he splatters red paint on the campers’ head shots and slashes at them with his movie murderer tool of choice: a pair of circular saw blades modified with finger hole grips. On The Tomb of Anubis Scale of Bad-Ass Weapons, these mofos fall somewhere between Jason’s saw blade weed whacker in Friday the 13th Part VII (“Very Bad-Ass”) and Ash’s chainsaw hand in Evil Dead 2 (“Legendary Bad-Ass”). They’d be equally excellent either here as a shredder of teenagers, a homemade peacemaker in one of those “Joe Everyman becomes a vigilante” flicks, or some hardcore ninja gear in a Shaw Brothers feature. I think I’ll put in a requisition with Osiris to get a pair of my own for soul reaping during those times when my scythe is in the shop getting its firmware updated.

The night before the big show’s set to open, our phantom flayer finally gets his feet wet (with gore) when he torture kills someone (I won’t tell ya who) on the stage. The next morning, Roger tells the kids that the person’s death was clearly an accident (though I’d love to see the Rube Goldbergian scenario he comes up with to explain the kid’s multi-step mutilation) and convinces them that the show must go on… through the use of another rousing musical number! And so, the play goes off without a hitch, Roger gets back into the big leagues of Broadway productions, Camilla is rocketed to immediate stardom, and she and Buddy open their hugely successful restaurant together. Everybody lives happily ever after. Don’t believe me? Good. You’re learning. What really happens? I’ll tell you this much – nothing goes right, people die, and Liszt’s “Hungarian Rhampsody Numero Dos” gets a comedy scene that overstays its welcome. But then, any rendition that isn’t the piano duel between Daffy and Donald at the Ink and Paint Club is bound to fall short.

Is the killer Joel (Kent Nolan), the stalker-lite lighting guy who looks like that Mexican werewolf kid from the Twatlight movies and has an obvious boner for Cammy? Could it be the creepy all-too-obvious-red herring janitor who’s always skulking around looking all-too-obviously-suspicious? Maybe it’s Buddy, trying to end his sister’s career before it can begin so as not to interfere with his dreams of the duo opening a restaurant together one day? But, what aboot Liz? I mean, once she lost the leading lady role, why not ruin the show for everybody? Then again, this could all be connected to whoever it was that gave Kylie the butcher knife taste test, back to make sure Roger’s amputated career never gets the chance to grow back. Speaking of, it could be Roger behind the mask! I mean, the killer’s not fat enough and hits notes too high and screechy to be Roger, and it would make no sense for Rog to sabotage (my new alias – Rog Sabotage) the production he hopes will put him back on top of the Broadway scene, but I learned long ago to stop giving movies the benefit of the doubt.

So, how do you solve a problem like Maria? Errr, by which I mean, how do you sum up a movie like Stage Fright? Well, if High School Musical and Sleepaway Camp had a Bartles & Jaymes regret-together one summer night, Stage Fright would be their Valentine’s Day partial birth abortion. Ever see Camp Blood: the Musical? Watch that instead. Less production value, but at least it doesn’t let you down when it comes to over-the-top summer camp killing with a dash of Gilbert & Sullivan. Stage Fright hints at the campiness of a Troma movie, but never goes so far as shooting ping pong balls out of its hot pocket. In fact, it ends its act and walks off stage without even taking off its top. I know not to expect a Troma production if there’s no Troma logo on the box, but I feel certain envelopes should’ve been pushed further than they were. This barely-R rated feature could’ve been bumped up to a soft NC-17 and nabbed a few more fun points for such absurdity in the process.

Some of the tunes are pretty catchy though (the end credits being the best), the gore (of what’s there) is pretty slick, I like the Kabuki theme of the slasher’s getup, the comedy works most of the time (the epilogue is an amusing *wink*wink* to slasher movie fans), and the acting’s actually pretty solid. Allie MacDonald? Young lady’s got chops. She does the shy/traumatized girl thing REALLY well and could get tears from a glass eye. The lass has got a set of pipes on her to be proud of too! I don’t go in for younger chicks as a general rule, but I think she’s talented enough that I’d make the exception. Besides, she’s applicable under the “half your age plus 7” rule with a few digits to spare, and this pic of her in a Black Flag shirt just seals the deal.

AllieBF

Now, If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go pump some custard in her honor. As André Benjamin said, become the master of your own bation – the future is in your hand. I’m out like a boner in boxers! Later, gators!

Moral of the Story: Even if you find a place where you can feel safe and happy with like-minded people who support and appreciate you, there’s ALWAYS gonna be some crazy person in a mask waiting to kill you.

Screenshots_____

I appreciate the filmmakers’ dedication to the truth here. It always bothered me that John McNaughton didn’t have the balls to keep the real life break dancing segments in Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer.


Billy and Sarah have the misfortune of attending one of the “Sesame Street” tapings where the actor playing Big Bird shows up drunk… and without any pants.


Minnie Driver tried one of those do-it-yourself plastic surgery kits to shave a few inches off of her jawbone. Kids? Leave medical procedures to the professionals.


I know that look – she wasn’t paying attention to her calender and woke up REALLY wishing she’d put in a tampon before bed… looks like someone’s getting a new mattress!


Good thing there’s a summer camp specifically for kids like this. It’s the only way most of them will ever get the chance to lose their virginity.


I asked a First Nations representative which aboriginal spirit this totem represents, and he told me to give back his land or get the fuck out. I tried offering him some beads and trinkets, but he just had security stuff my pants full of arrowheads, wrap me in a smallpox infected blanket, and roll me down a steep hill!


An recently uncovered production still from Ed Wood’s long lost film adaptation of Phantom of the Opera!


If that guy doesn’t have a work glove with razor blades on the fingertips, a rusty pitchfork, and several rolls of duct tape in the trunk of his car, I’ll be very surprised.


This may look odd to some, but he was hired to perform a puppet show at Lucille Bluth’s birthday party. I’m afraid I just blue myself… NO TOUCHING! TV SHOW QUOTES!


Okay, these Texas Chainsaw Massacre prequels are going a little too far back into Leatherface’s history now.


I feel like this was a concept originally done in one of those sticker trading card sets from the ’90s about parody products of known brand names. Like the ones in this link.


Meat Loaf is Chris Farley in Tommy Boy 2: No, Not Black Sheep. Not since Blues Brothers 2000 has a beloved comedian’s legacy been so completely shit upon!


“I’ll need my assistant’s help with my next trick, which I call, “The Reverse Uncle Fester”!


Pro-tip: you might wanna use a mirror when you put on your eyeshadow.


You kids these days with your pierced I-don’t-know-whats! Unless you’re the Bionic Woman, you shouldn’t have more metal in your head than bone! You go take those things out this minute, young lady, and you let those holes heal shut!


I don’t know what she needs with a lantern when she’s got a perfectly good pair of headlights! SHAZAM!

Anubis will return next time in
“Children of a Lesser Godzilla”

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Episode 25 – Beyond Re-Animator (2003)

or “The Doctor is In(carcerated)”

Featuring: Jeffrey “From Beyond” Combs , Jason “MirrorMask” Barry , Elsa “Skate or Die” Pataky

Director: Brian “Society” Yuzna

Writers: Xavier “Working Class” Berraondo , Jose “Working Class” Gomez , Miguel “Revenge of the Nerds” Tejada-Flores

Origin: Spain

Sequel to: Re-Animator / Bride of Re-Animator

Review_____

The soul is an invention of primitive witch doctors.”

25 episodes! Woohoo! My chronic general disinterest in life and unwillingness to stay committed to projects has given me enough leeway to make it to the silver review! Sure, four of said reviews were reruns, but they did require re-viewings of the subject materials, massive re-editing of the original material (if you think my current rantings are bad, my shit was WAY shittier 7 or 8 years ago), writing the intros and xtros (still get a smirk out of that every time I type it), along with entirely new screenshots and captions. As such, they’re really not so much reruns as they are remasters. I just didn’t want to sound like some uppity dickshit by actually calling them that. Anyway, for the big two-five, I wanted to break out something a little special to mark the occasion. Re-Animator is the movie that really showed me what horror movies could accomplish beyond killer dolls and masked slashers, so it’d be the perfect subject for a milestone like this. However, since my self-imposed “nothing before 2000” rule prevents me from reviewing the original Re-Animator (or even the not-as-good-but-still-pretty-good follow up Bride of), well…some Herbert West is better than no Herbert West, so…here’s Beyond!

For starters, Jeffrey Combs is the only original Re-Animator cast member returning this time. The gorgeous Barbara Crampton (my throwback boner factory in high school) hasn’t been a piece of this puzzle since the original, Bruce Abbott bowed out after Bride (good riddance), and David Gale cashed in his 401Korpse in 1991 after playing Fulton Balcus in the live-action Guyver (no, not MacGuyver, ya knob) movie, so his final parlay into the mythology will have to be remembered as Gale with bat wings grafted to the sides of his head. Behind the camera is director/writer/producer Brian Yuzna is back from Bride, and since he was also a producer on Re-Animator, that makes him the only person other than Combs to be a part of all three movies. Special effects man Screaming Mad George also returns from Bride to contribute to the gore and oddities for Beyond, so expect less in the way of traditional living dead, and more in the way of “how is that even a thing?!” mutants. No one else I’d trust to put together a silhouette fight between a mouse and a penis though…don’t worry, we’ll get to that soon enough!

When we last saw Herbert West (Jeffrey Combs), he and he his friend assistant Dan Cain (not to be confused with Dean Cain, praise Isis) were pulling a Bride of Frankenstein on Dan’s dead ex-girlfriend Megan…whose death somehow made her transmogrify into someone who wasn’t Barbara Crampton. And to paraphrase Officer Barbrady, “If you’re not Barbara Crampton, I don’t give a rat’s ass!” As with anything West gets his hypodermics into, the whole affair went tits up and the mad doctor was thought lost in a cave-in, the victim of his own affronts to nature. Aside from re-animating the dead, West’s made a name for himself by escaping certain death before, and if he can survive full-body strangulation by a pissed off intestinal python, having a crypt dropped on his head isn’t exactly a guarantee of expiration.

Beyond picks up with one of West’s errant creations seeking out a refreshing drink of milk at a house near the cemetery where the doctor set up his chop shop, but the jawless freak collapses the skull of a teenage girl in the process. Never stand between a re-animated corpse and his moo juice. The local pigs show up and nab West, leading to a lengthy incarceration in Arkham Prison. Now, it’s not made clear if this is immediately following the finish of Bride and the cops were there following up on the ruckus resulting from said movie, hence why they were on the scene so quickly. It’s possible Herb escaped the crypt collapse only to be grabbed by the black & white, or it could be that the police dug him out of the rubble and tossed him straight into the back of a cruiser rather than an ambulance. I’m assuming this mishap is completely unrelated to Bride though, since the graves our spitters in the face of mother nature were robbing previously were from, I believe, Arkham Cemetery, while the boneyard from which West is removed in cuffs here is ChristChurch Cemetery; which sounds to me like a place you’d find in Spain. (This feature was made under the banner of Brian Yuzna’s Fantastic Factory movie production company out of Barcelona.) Which also explains the HUGE amount of people in Arkham, Massachusetts with Spanish accents and Latin features. As for the immediate police response? Well, after two previous such massacres in the area, you gotta figure the Arkham PD put together an Emergency Anti-Zombie Task Force who spent every shift until now just sitting by their special phone line awaiting just this call to come in! Makes sense to me.

Semantics aside…wait…I just realized that “semantics” would be a great way to describe people who find semen romantic. Anyway, my diminutive attention span notwithstanding, West somehow survives 13 years of incarceration (after Dan seemingly turned state’s evidence according to West himself), continuing his experimentation with whatever bits and bobs he can scrounge up and using rats as his test subjects. Out of the blue, he gets notice of his assignment to a new work detail: assisting the prison’s new head physician, Dr. Howard Phillips (Jason Barry playing an allusion to Lovecraft that’s about as subtle as a stick of dynamite going off in a priest’s ass in the middle of mass). Howie’s requested placement in the prison position (that just sounds dirty) is in no way due to his supposed interest in “institutional medicine”, but because he sought out Dr. West and this is the culmination of his 13 year plan to pursue our titular madman. See, Howie’s sister Emily (whom he had a creepily physical relationship with [see screenshots below]) is the girl whose murder-by-monstrosity led to the West arrest in the first place. The nerd’s not here to take his revenge though, he’s here because he recovered a hypodermic of reagent at the crime scene (yep, the cops managed to overlook the BIG GLOWING GREEN NEEDLE sitting next to their car) and held onto it so he could apprentice under the unstable doctor in the science of Dead Raising 101.

In an “only in the movies” moment of convenience, one of the prison’s residents (a cannibal named Moses, played by Michael Berryman understudy Nico Baixas) dies of a heart attack not 5 minutes after West and Phillips are introduced. Before you can say “Dan Cain’s coif”, Howie’s returning the recovered stash of reagent to Dr. Opposite-of-East, and our intrepid would-be Victor Frakenstein wastes no time jamming it into Moses’s neck. Yeah, given his shitty luck with rampaging experiments in the past, you’d think West wouldn’t be so quick to shoot up a CANNIBAL with a concoction that turns EVERYBODY it’s injected into into MURDEROUS ZOMBIE BERSERKERS! My love for you is raging ghoul, BERSERKER! Would you kindly stroke my tool, BERSERKER!

Of course, this poor judgement results in a small rampage that leaves a guard with a large big bloody hole where part of his arm used to be, drawing the ire and suspicion of the prison boss, Warden Brando (Simón Andreu). He’s a textbook case of Lord Acton’s summation about how power corrupts and all that. Speaking of Brando, he’s not in the mood for any of that psycho zombie bullshit, because he’d much rather focus his attentions on trying to seduce sexy blonde local reporter Laura Olney (Elsa Pataky). She’s visiting the big house to do a story on their institutionalized education program. Being an attractive dame, Laura has a less-than-8% chance of escaping to the end credits without being turned into a topless zombie drenched in someone else’s gore and offal. Actually, given that Howard’s assisting nurse Vanessa (Raquel Gribler) is a busty Latina whose topless factor is somewhere around “Absolute Certainty” (“It’s over 9000!”), Laura’s mammaries may go unexposed. The rest of that previous estimate though? Put a ten spot on it and let it ride!

Because the downfalls of Herbert West are always somehow the blame of a woman (or at least his partners’ weaknesses for them), Phillips and Laura hit it off at first sight and are staining sheets together within mere hours of meeting because, again, movie reasons. Laura starts investigating West’s sordid backstory, abusing her womanly wiles to try and exhume the truth of what the two doctors are really up to in the basement the hoosegow. Speaking of, West’s new twist for this movie’s experiments is Nano-Plasmic Energy. He’s discovered that when the human body dies, it loses a spark of energy that can be captured and maintained. Religious people would call this a “soul”, but West sees it as the way to restore full brain function to his test subjects post-reanimation! By infusing his “patients” with a zap of NPE, their bodies achieve their natural balance, stop decaying, and learn how to repair cellular degeneration. Naturally, the problem with NPE is finding “donors”, since you’re stealing their life force, thereby killing them. West believes NPE to be an entirely neutral energy, so you don’t necessarily need a human spark to jump start the re-animated as, say, a rat “soul” would fill in the blanks of this medical mad lib just as well! Yeeeeeeeah…there’s NO way this could possibly become yet another fustercluck in this man’s history of similarly clucked fusters. Remember kids, book smarts do not equal common sense, but they can absolutely lead to big greasy stains on the record of humankind.

Dr. Howard (“Paging Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine, Dr. Howard.”) goes along with West’s plan to implant rat NPE into Moses to see if he regains his senses. Before they can get the chance, Laura’s already bribed her way into some face time with the adult version of Bat Boy for her investigation, which predictably turns into a life threatening situation. Brando walks in on the proceedings though, gets his ear bitten off by the maniac, then beats Moses to “death” with his big dumb Larry Talbot cane before trying to force Laura to give him a trouser friendly good night kiss (or good morning kiss if you’re from the Southern Hemisphere)… after making her get on all fours and bark like a dog. Hey, Barry Simms, do you think Laura wears crotchless panties?

The preceding joke was meant only for viewers of Halloween: the Curse of Michael Myers, starring a young Paul Rudd. If you didn’t get the joke, please send a self-addressed, postage paid envelope to “Halloween 666” and frankly, if you don’t get your mail returned to you for just putting “Halloween 666” as the mailing address, your mail person probably just threw it down the nearest storm drain. Don’t expect a response.

When she refuses to get her tonsils whitewashed, Laura’s also beaten to death by Brando and his aforementioned ornate walking stick. The warden plays it off as Moses beating Laura to death, then attacking him too before he was forced to beat off the lunatic (perfect title for a punk song) in self-defense. As if by clockwork, Laura ends up on the business end of a re-animating (toldja!) and when the warden finds out, he ends up on the business end of Herb’s infamous problems with authority and gets brained, strapped to a table, and milked of his nano-plasm. Howie refuses to let West put rat NPE into Laura, for fear of it turning her into Splinter or something, but he okays her infusion with Warden Brando’s essence since he was human. Well, on a biological level anyway. Despite West’s theory that NPE is neutral, Laura ends up going split personality with the skeezoid using her body as a timeshare like Lily Tomlin hosting Steve Martin’s ghost in All of Me. Wow, I just alienated everyone under 25 reading this right now.

Right around this time the prisoners incite an on-the-fly riot and the whole places breaks out in fires and violence. In the mayhem, Laurden runs off, get cornered by some would-be rapists, and dismembers the whole lot of them like frogs in a blender, because being fused with the soul of a sadistic dickhead turns her into Wolverine somehow?! While she’s making chop suey out of society’s hemorrhoids, Dr. Phil (hyuk hyuk) is running around trying to find her amidst the mayhem. As for Herbicide, he takes the chance to zombitize Brando and see what happens when rat NPE is plugged into a human nervous system. Despite some buck teeth and a tendency to crawl around on his hands and feets, Brando’s basically the same asshole he was before, which makes you wonder how much of someone’s personality is stored in their brain and how much comes from their nano-plasm. West intends to escape with a medical bag packed with syringes full of reagent (am I the only one who thinks it might be a better idea to carry that shit around in bottles or vials?), but Ratso beats his ass and runs off with the grave rave glow sticks to go add to the cacophony of craziness already falling down around everybody’s heads.

After re-animating his most mentally deficient guard (which results in NOTHING but a limp sight gag at the end of the movie), Ratty captures Laurden and informs her of his new plan to use the reagent to make his prisoners unkillable, allowing him to execute them repeatedly and prolong their punishments indefinitely! And she’s going to be his first victim. But first, he wants another shot and getting that blowjob. Now, since half of him now inhabits half of her, would killing her count as suicide? Would raping her count as masturbation? Now there’s some weird shit philosophy to ponder under your meditation tree!

The suck job turns into a castration when Laurden pulls an Efrey Guzman and bites off the rat man’s dangle meat, spitting it out for a re-animated rat to roll away with for the previously promised end credits fisticuffs later on. Back to West, he’s running around trying to find his bag of juice, and crosses paths with a pissed off torso (who he dispatches by lassoing with a noose and swinging around like some zombie wrangling rodeo cowboy) and a junkie named Speedball who shoots up on reagent and winds up painting the walls of his cell Viscera Red when his guts ‘splode out (a la Dr. Hill’s when West did the overload experiment at the end of the first movie). As for Moses, he’s off somewhere tormenting Vanessa the nurse. She fulfills her mandatory titty committee commitment (again, toldja) and the cwazy cannibal pulls a Burial Ground, biting off a mouthful of chest beef for himself. From here, the whole cheap muddled mess just continues to swirl down the crapper as Laurden attacks Howard, begging him to kill her while she tries to eviscerate him, as West turns Roadhouse on us and fights off both Ratso and the wayward torso man in a bigger physical display than Combs has portrayed in all of his other movies roles combined! Well, except Felony. Watching Jeffrey Combs do anything that requires stunt work is weeeeeeird.

Herbie manages to escape into the smoky Arkham evening using the chaos and Howie’s credentials to pass by the arriving cops, leaving Dr. Phillips in the prison to be found by the police who take him away while Laurden’s severed head laughs at him maniacally. As for the rat and the severed penis? During the end credits, the rat and dick get into a knock down, drag out, brawl for it all! By which I mean the shadow of a rat puppet and the shadow of a rubber dick are slapped against each for a few seconds for the sole purpose of having a rat fight a dick. Were you expecting more? Did I get your hopes up? Were you disappointed? Well, welcome to my fucking world, because those were my EXACT feelings following Beyond Re-Animator!

Remember that part in Zeram, where the titular bad-ass space horror tries to spawn a clone minion, and just winds up with a deformed imperfect retard clone of Uncle Fester that Zeram stomps to death out of frustration? That’s how I feel about Beyond Re-Animator: it’s an imperfect attempt at cloning the original Re-Animator that I’d rather stomp to death than keep around reminding me of how it’ll never be as good as the material it was born of. Oh, you don’t know what the fuck Zeram is?! Well, check >>this link<< to the exact scene I’m metaphoring on about. As I was saying, you’ve got West taking on an assistant who doesn’t want to sacrifice his morality in the name of science; you’ve got the assistant’s girlfriend getting in the way, then getting killed and shot full of reagent; you’ve got a re-animated animal attacking its former owner (in this case a rat rather than a cat); you’ve got a manipulative and corrupt superior figure who pervs on the assistant’s pretty blond girlfriend AND intends to steal West’s serum for his own purposes; you’ve got West killing said superior, experimenting on him which results in West getting his ass kicked and his reagent stolen; you’ve got an institution becoming the site of a zombie riot finale; you’ve got incomplete zombie oral sex (only this time reversed); you’ve got a human using the reagent as a stimulant (though that bit wound up getting cut from the original); and you’ve even got guts exploding out of somebody’s torso because of an overdose of reagent! West puts it best: “She’s not getting any fresher.”

And the elements that aren’t basically just re-hashed from the original? Crap. For starters, the writing isn’t great. The dialogue isn’t just poorly delivered, it’s poorly written. The comedy bits aren’t nuanced like they were in the original. They’re incredibly blunt and feel forced. Excessively forced. Like they’re being beaten into us with the warden’s cane after we’ve already been restrained with a straightjacket. The writers Mosesed us, is what I’m saying. Also, the audio’s bad, because despite the whole thing being shot in English, several of the actors had to be dubbed; likely to cover up their heavy-to-the-point-of-unintelligible accents. Half of the audio’s okay, but the re-recorded shit sounds like you’re listening to it with water in your ears. It throws off the whole thing. To add insult to injury, we don’t even get the original Richard Band classic “Psycho rip-off” theme music. We get something way less memorable that just starts us off on the wrong foot. An opening fumble from which the movie never really recovers.

The only real props I can give to Beyond are the heavy use of traditional physical gore in an age where the digital stuff refuses to stop spitting acid into my eyes, and the oddly well paced direction. It made a 95 minute movie feel more like an hour, so it doesn’t feel like it’s overstaying its welcome. Though things do get WAY too busy with fifty different stories leapfrogging all over each other at once, it doesn’t really give you a chance to get bored. Also, though I tend to hate most movies that shoot entirely in a single enclosed location as a money saving tactic, when your movie’s sole setting is a prison (barring the opening and the short trips to Laura’s apartment), it’s an appropriate sense of isolation. Beyond that though (no pun intended), there’s really not much for me to enjoy here. I’m generally too insulted by the lazy photocopy approach of re-using most of the first movie to have a good time.

As a painful bit of irony, for the first time in the series, we actually end on a set up for a sequel, and for the first time in the series, WE WON’T BE GETTING ONE! We were supposed to get a whole new trilogy of Re-Animation back in 2006, starting with the proposed House of Re-Animator. This return-to-awesome would reunite the core of the original, including stars Combs (YAY!) and Abbot (boo!), and the creative force of writer/director Stuart Gordon and his frequent collaborator and co-writer, Dennis Paoli! The script revolved around Dr. West being brought into the White House to work his glowing green juice magic when the President of the USA croaks. A riff on then-Presidente Bush Jr.’s regime, Gordon’s said that they had trouble nailing down financing because investors were uncomfortable with the idea of pissing off the sin-eaters on Capitol Hill. Too bad they’re apparently not still down with the idea of making House, given that Bush’s been flushed down the toilet of history and the time for such a movie’s passed. Which is bullshit, because the government is always ripe for a punch in the neck. Too bad they don’t seem too keen on doing any of the other planned installments of the trilogy, otherwise you’d think they’d be all over Kickstarter getting some fan backing. Shit, legit actor William H. Macy was on board to play the president for House, so don’t tell me his name doesn’t carry some kind of financial influence! Damn it, I blame the failure to make House of Re-Animator happen for Jeffrey Combs being reduced to doing movies like Night of the Living Dead 3D: Re-Animation to keep the lights on. Son of a bitch!

Maybe if we, the collective fan community, got together and came up with the budget ourselves, the cast and creative would be willing to shoot it? I’ve never been good at getting people to donate money to anything myself. In my house, when it came time to sell candy bars to pad the school budget, I only made about $15 off of my immediate family and wouldn’t set foot outside of the house to try to unload the rest. I am good at ideas though, so how about this: “Samuel L. Quackson” – a cartoon done in the style of those Disney duck adventures from the ’90s starring an anthropomorphic Anseriformes that wears a leather tranchcoat and eyepatch and goes on adventures. Sam Jackson is probably way too busy to do the actual voice acting, but maybe we can get the guy who voiced Nick Fury in LEGO Marvel Superheroes to fill in. We’ll shop a pilot around, and if it sells, we use the money made from this venture to fund House of Re-Animator!

…or we can just face facts and let the series die at three. Instead of mourning its passing though, let’s celebrate the good times these movies gave us (and my birthday, while we’re at it). Drink a bottle of something that glows in the dark, shoot your veins full of something green (I find old boxes of Ecto-Cooler refreshing), and Re-Animate Your Feet!

Moral of the Story: This. THIS is the only truly memorable thing to crawl from the fallout of Beyond Re-Animator.

Screenshots_____

This shot courtesy of the camera hidden in the trees by the creepy neighbor who was required by law to introduce himself to everyone when he moved in.


If I was ever between my sister’s legs like that… I’m sorry, I can’t complete this caption. I’m too busy vomiting uncontrollably all over my keyboard.


Well, he has the “got milk?” part down, now he just needs to figure out the “got jaw?” thing.


I’d ask him if he has any Grey Poupon… but he looks like he might stab me in the eyes with his keys if I do.


Jeffrey Combs shows us his derp face.


Rusty Griswold (well, one of them) finally grew up.


And so did Bat Boy!


“Damn it, these don’t look ANYTHING like the sea monkeys in the ad from the comic book!”


Some would say he’s being a professional by not looking up her skirt right now. The truth? He’s got a worse foot fetish than Quentin Tarantino.


“No, the movies are NOT considered canon! Peter Cushing is NOT an actual Doctor! What do you not understand about this!?”


If this were a ’60s biker movie, that guy would be the turncoat who sells out the leader of the hero biker gang for a bag of drugs from the evil biker gang.


Somewhere in the world at this very moment, there’s a guy jerking himself into a chaffed fury over this picture while you read this.


A never-before-seen private photo of Courtney Love during her first drug overdose, as seen in her autobiography “What Did I Snort Last Night?!“.


And this picture’s from her 7th overdose.


“Hail Hydra.”


Man, Edward James Olmos has just stopped caring at this point.


Yes, to satisfy your curiosity, there ARE horror groupies who will have sex with Michael Berryman.


Visine: because THIS could happen to you if you try to save a few dollars by buying generic eye drops!


Warning: Taco Bell is not responsible for side effects that may result from customers who eat one of every item from our new breakfast menu in one sitting.


From that day forward, Howard learned to always keep track of his wife’s monthly cycle before initiating oral sex.


Raoul’s obsession with beating the world pull-up record has reached dangerous new levels.


The Kama Sutra always seems like a fun kinky thing for married couples to try out when the want to reignite the cooled flames of their passion, but actually putting the positions into practice is a whole other story…


Sometimes, all you can do is step back, take a look at your life, and laugh… just… just laugh…

Anubis will return next time in
“Everybody’s a Critic”

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All materials found within this review are the intellectual properties and opinions of the original writer. The Tomb of Anubis claims no responsibility for the views expressed in this review, but we do lay a copyright claim on it beeyotch, so don’t steal from this shit or we’ll have to go all Farmer Vincent on your silly asses. © October 1st 2013 and beyond, not to be reproduced in any way without the express written consent of the reviewer and The Tomb of Anubis, or pain of a physical and legal nature will follow. Touch not lest ye be touched.

Sunday Mourning

Some shit leak on one of the Sunday morning moron parades is trying to demonize evolution via my television, saying its believers support The Holocaust and child abuse as “survival of the fittest”… Osiris give me the strength… to jump into television shows like that dude from “Shocker” and pull out this shyster’s tongue. Fucking knob!

Anyway, Episode #25 will be coming in today, so prepare thine eyes! Tomorrow is Cinco de Mayo, or as a small contingent of my doomsday cultists in Mexico call it, Cinco de Pablo… because it’s my creation day… and they call me Pablo… blame BabelFish. Anyway, yes, tomorrow will celebrate my 33rd millennia (yep, I’ll be 33,000) in this dimension. If you’d like to sacrifice something to me for my special day, in lieu of animals and virgins (I have plenty, thank you… and they get VERY attached once you deflower them… the virgins, not the animals), might I suggest money, ice cream cake, or Amazon gift cards?

See you later, gators!