In a recent BBC article It’s been discovered that a our littlest friends under our feet, the Argentine ant, is actually part of a vast mega colony that has already colonised much of our planet. Scarey? yes… and maybe the largest species that could even rival humans in their population scale but with less strip malls and urban sprawl. These ants were once only native to south America (hence the Brazilian waxed thoraxes) and now cover every continent by hitching a ride on our shoes…well everywhere except ANTartica. They figured with a name like that it was already spoken for. Faced with this news of impeding insect invasion, I just want to take this moment to welcome our benelovent insect overlords and offer my services in managing diabetic worker slaves in the vast sugar factories. Let’s just try to forget my younger years involving a magnifying glass on a sunny day or that ant farm I accidentally flooded with radiator fluid.

Speaking of mutant ants taking over the world, “Empire of the Ants” leads us to believe that not only can radioactive waste cause insects to grow to the size of Volkswagons but they can also setup thriving sugar based economies, run factories, and managed cheap labor forces. All this in a single day.

Joan collins takes a break from crappy TV shows to play a unscrupulous land developer, Marilyn Fryser. She’s trying to sell island realestate to clueless Floridians in leisure suits. Little do they know one of the island perks is scenic sunset views of radioactive barrels of toxic waste washing ashore right where the ants like to sunbath. The typical poorly sealed nuclear storage containers start leaking silver paint all over the ants and suddenly BAMMM! gigantus insectus among-us making picnic runs on Marylyn’s clients.

After discovering some dead construction workers covered in smuckers rasberry jam the remaining customers decide to hightail it outta there as fast as their golf cart tour bus can carry them. Easily exceeding speeds of 10 mph they finally arrive back at the beach to find their tour boat getting antified. Dan, our grizzly faced boat captain swims out to try to save his precious scooner but the ants gives him the smack down. In a Gilligan-esq moment he decides to just to blow up the boat instead. The skipper would be proud. Now trapped on the island, rained on, hungry and without any extra eyeliner for Joan Collins they start to head towards the center of the island in hopes of rescue. The very old and very senile couple trailing the group decides it best to go off on their own hiding out in a delepatated shack. Their last words would be “don’t worry we’ll be safe in here” proving again that old people are among the first to die in any b-movie.

The survivors battling their poor sense of direction take a old boat down the river and run into an ant made baracade and have to battle American Gladiator guantlet style with giant foam ant heads. The cameraman appears to be in the thick of the action because heck if anyone can tell whose landing any punches with all those styrofoam legs flailing around. The boat sinks and they find a creepy old couple living in a barb wired cottage retreat who take them to town (this island must be huge!) They know something’s strange is happening in hicksville with not a Walmart or PigglyWiggly in sight and bets are someone’s been hoarding all the sugar packs too.

Their suspicions are confirmed with they find the townsfolks are being rounded up and taken to the gigantic sugar factory outside town which are apparently quite prevalent in the Florida everglades. Inside the factory, people are lining up like it’s a carnival ride to get sprayed with a cloud of ant phermone from a queen ant crammed into a phone booth. This mind control spray makes the victim do whatever the queen asks of them plus it has the side benefit of the fresh scent of Lysol. It’s pretty much like if they went to a Pink Floyd laser show and got a contact buzz. Thankfully Dan fends of the ants and townsfolks with a road flare and his extreme grizzleness then loads up the last of the survivors onto yet another boat ready to get lost again in the swamp. Hey the guy really likes boats can ya dig? I think the factory blew up too at some point but they ran out of budget…it’s mostly implied by a guy driving aimlessly around in a fuel tanker and then there’s a grease fire and some flaming ant footage.

I was surprised at the low level special effects this movie utilized for a 70’s monster film. I’d swear it was a 1950’s sci-fi movie if it wasn’t for the eye piercing leisure suits and feathered hair do’s. Lots of split screens between the actors and ants, toy models with ants trying to climb the painted back drop, and styrofoam props make the effects on par with a Gamera film. The most redeeming quality of this movie is seeing Joan Collins impaled by a giant queen ant after getting her brain zapped. “That’s for making us endure Dallas..see ya in hell!”  ”Empire of the Ants” is cheesy little b-flick that just goes to show you can make a movie without the need for acting, special effects or even a plot getting in the way.

-Extreme leisure-suits
-Nuclear waste in a can
-Joan Collins Fu
-Fraudulent resort tours
-Paddle Fu
-Ant smoke contact buzz
-Road flair phone booth attacks
-Giant styrofoam ants
-Exploding sugar shacks
-Kaleidoscope ant vision
-Redneck mind control

I give it a 7.3 out of 10..but that’s only because the ants are watching me… right now….listening to my thoughts.

Check out the trailer for Empire of the Ants

The results are in… After receiving and reviewing the submissions it is time to announce the winners. It was very difficult to select three winners out of all the entries because everybody came up with a variety of solutions to Ben’s hypothetical situation that were funny, clever and very creative. We would like to give a big thank you to everyone who entered the contest. And congratulate those of you whose submissions were selected. Below are the winning entries. The original scenario has been re-posted for your convenience. Enjoy!

Scenario:

After a hard day’s work at Fright Rags, Ben has just drifted off into a very sound REM sleep when all of a sudden he’s jolted awake by loud noises that sound like they’re coming from the storage area where the all the printed shirts are stored. Ben immediately springs out of bed, grabs a baseball bat, and cautiously goes to investigate the disturbance. As he makes his way toward the room, the strange sounds are getting even louder. When he reaches the storage area, an eerie blue light can be seen from underneath the door. Those unrecognizable noises now appear to be a series of growls and tortured groans, like something from a horror movie. Ben’s heart is really pounding now. He pauses for a few seconds to collect himself and then, after gathering up enough courage, he begins to slowly turn the door knob. Upon opening the door, Ben sees a truly shocking sight: all the characters from his printed T-shirts have somehow come to life. So, what do you think Ben should do?

Kim Smith

Thinking quickly and knowing he is highly outnumbered; Ben lobs his baseball bat at the throng of creatures. He misses them all, instead hitting a large, 80s style boom-box. Static crackles and the CD begins to play Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” The characters are amused by the irony of the situation and start dancing to the beat. Ben shrugs his shoulders. “If you can’t beat them, join them,” he thinks, falling into step. Ben and his new-found friends dance well into the night. That is, until a new song begins and the monsters turn on their creator.

Ben’s screams of terror cannot be heard over the wailing tones of Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On.”

Jason Crampton

“Holy Crap,” Ben says. “I should have made more shirts with good guys on them.” With all the chaos happening in the room, nobody seems to have taken notice of him just yet. Zombies fighting Jack Torrance fighting the Wolfman fighting The Thing fighting Ash—wait, “Ash!” Ben hopefully calls out.

Ash looks up from chainsawing the head off of a giant shark that was thrashing about in the corner, just in time to catch a pick axe to the face from Harry Warden. “Oops,” Ben mutters, and slowly lets his baseball bat slip from his fingers to clatter loudly on the floor. He has now gathered the attention of more than a dozen horrible monsters, and as they slowly inch closer to him, he can only think that Ash may have been his only hope. But then he hears the unmistakable sound of the M41 Assault Rifle from Aliens. “Bill Paxton!” Ben remembers. “I mean, Pvt. Hudson!” “Game over man!” Hudson yells as Cujo is mauling him.

“Game over!”

“Oh, right. Great.” Ben scans the room for anyone else who might be able to help him. No sign of the Brothers Frog, but then again, they were like twelve years old or something. Ben feels bad for dragging them into this mess. As Ben starts to accept his now inevitable fate, he can only hope that it will be quick, and not a slowly eaten kind of death. The unstoppable Jason Voorhees is at the head of the pack, and Ben starts to think a well placed machete to the brain might not be a bad way to go. Then he hears a chainsaw, and assumes it must be Leatherface. Wait. He thinks, I haven’t made a Leatherface shirt! Then, the blade of a chainsaw bursts from Voorhees’s chest, and he is tossed aside, to reveal a bloodied Ash. “Thank God I made two of you!” Ash gives him a quizzical look.

“Come again?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ben says. “Let’s just get out of here.” Ash carves a path to the door, and they quickly shut it behind them. Ben trips on a severed arm that made it through the door. He falls, but when he lands, he’s not on the floor. He’s in his bed. A dream! He is relieved, but also a little disappointed that Ash isn’t in his house. He decides to prepare for the future, and heads straight to the drawing board to create even more Ash shirts. An Army of Ash’s!

Jim Tomarchio

Ben bursts into the room and proclaims “NOT TODAY!” He then rushes towards the various horror characters who are now growling, snarling, and poised to attack him. Ben started to flail his baseball bat at the monsters and other various creatures in an insane and violent manner then very quickly stopped. He realized they were not attacking him, nor doing any damage to his AMAZING printed shirts. Ben blurted out “What are you doing here!?” The monsters then turned and pointed. Simultaneously they roared… “BEER!”

Ten minutes later, Ben and his horde of horrific creature friends were all seated around a table laughing and cracking jokes on each other. The characters from his shirts had to go back to the stellar shirts from which they came and with them they took beer, new jokes and a box of fabric softener.

“On my planet this shirt attracts the females of my species.”

I’m not what you call a proficient grocery shopper. I don’t stock up on coupons or scan through the Sunday paper looking for the latest deals on canned tuna and toasted Wheat Thins. I only know it’s time to shop when I can no longer make a full meal from the refrigerator’s remaining survivors.. usually some condiments, a jar of olives, and a box of baking soda. So putting on a coat over my PJ’s I’d head out for that late night grocery run.

Late nights food runs you’d often find the store empty of customers so it was difficult to even find a checkout lady to wave me over to her conveyor belt. This time I was forced to confront the newest shopping breakthrough that was the new self checkout machine. Hey I’m a man of the world, a technology connoisseur, I could surely conquer this fancy slot machine wanna-be. First the Cheetos bag wouldn’t scan and when it did, It told me I bought 25 bags worth forever bestowing me the title “the crazy Cheetos guy.” Then placing the items in the bag a condescending computer voice would keep telling me to “Please place the item in the bag”… “Oh you mean the item that’s already in the bag?” The computer didn’t seem to understand any sense of irony. My arms had grown weak from the numerous failed attempts at scanning some cantaloupe and the Fonzi method of banging the machine on the side didn’t seem to help any so eventually a technician had to show me where to put my crinkled dollar bills. Who would have thought groceries need IT support.

I thought technology was supposed to make things easier. When was it decided that “easier” was just do it yourself? Self-serve gas station, ATM banking, and self scanning checkout lines, these are advances in modern convenience? No I want someone else to do this for me because I’m American and laziness is my God given constitutional right. if you’re not going to give me a real person to do the job then at least give me a robot. This 2009 after all, I should have my own jetpack and hover car by now. I shouldn’t be standing in my PJ’s swipping cans of lima beans while a lady in a purple mu mu waits behind me with her big box of glazed chick peas. Next time I will just go when a friendly cashier lady is available that will gladly talk with me about the weather as she scans my groceries while perfectly bagging things so my bread isn’t crushed by the 2 gallon mayonnaise jar and bag of ice (Hey I like potato salad and it was hot that night.)

Speaking of ladies that excel at their jobs. Switchblade sisters introduces us to a gang of street-wise ladies called the Dagger Debs who’ve made a career at beating up elevator passengers and picking fights at the local Dairy Queen. The Debs are led by Lace, a high-strung snappy dresser who works out her dialog through clenched teeth like she’s got a case of lock jaw. She and her gal pals beat up a helpless landlord, go jay walking,  and then take a break at the ice cream shop. Here they run into a cute blondie named Maggie who is hogging one of their favorite seats. Maggie’s your sorta typical girl next door…if your typical girl is packin’ heat and has inner rage issues. Little do they know she’s the kind of girl that will cut you deep for even looking at her Oreo Blizzard the wrong way so she slices one of the gang members across the face with a knife. The police suddenly show up like a swat team before it can turn really ugly. Apparently a doughnut shop was very close by.

The Debs all end up in a juvenile detention center where some big burly lady wardens try to make the night moves on the new girls but end up getting the snot beat out of them instead. Maggie is finally freed from juvi-jail but has an even worse time on the outside when she’s raped by Lace’s boyfriend Dom. Dom is the leader of another powerful gang called the Silver daggers, a ruthless gang of thugs who resemble the cast from Welcome Back Kotter and enjoy playing billiards between felonies. Lace trusts Maggie and invites her to join the Debs not knowing that her and Dom just did the nasty at her apartment the night before. The resident cyclops “Patch” happily points out that Maggie has to be initiated first before becoming a true Deb and then starts whining about how she “lost her eye for this gang.” But really, how can you take a pirate seriously?

They send her on a mission to recover a toy prop necklace from a rival gang leader who goes by the unfortunate name of crabs. Great way to impress the ladies when you’re named after a venereal disease. Crab runs a fake community center where they give out narcotics under the disguise as vitamin pills so that he can buy even more hideous shirts for his wardrobe. Maggie stops by at their headquarters and  pretends to be attracted to Mr. Crabs which is probably the most impressive acting you’ll see in the whole film. In the middle of her seduction act she bites him on his Shootzle Deetzle, grabs the necklace and breaks through a office wall like the Koolaid man. Maggie returns to the Debs triumphant with her newly won trophy. Now there’s no questioning Maggie’s loyalty  with her ability to steal novelty prop jewelry.

Later on the Debs and the Daggers are vengefully ambushed by the Crab gang at the local rollerskating rink.  Lace gets punched in the baby maker whose oven was already preheated with Dom’s unborn kid and Dom gets a shotgun blast to the belly by the big Red Lobster himself. Maggie and Lace have to leave him to bleed to death in the center rink while Donna Summers music still blares on… a truly horrifying fate for anyone.

Maggie and Lace decide they want to avenge Dom’s death so they enlist some black power lady militants who drive pimped out armored Cadillacs and get their kicks making white hippies in disco shirts run and scream like little girls. I think that’s something anyone can really enjoy though. But not everything is as it seems there’s plot twists a plenty as jealously and secrets are threatening to destroy the gang. Who set up whom, who had an affair with who…who is loyal to whom. And when should the word whom actually be used in a sentence? It all ends up in a good old dance of death with switchblade divas giving us a great Shakespearean twist to this little exploitation romp.

Tarantino released this as his second film in his Rolling Thunder film series so be sure to check out his intro and outro on the DVD extras. His movie clerk geekiness clearly shows as he talks in great detail about the film and why they changed the name from The Jezebels to Switchblade Sisters. You can tell he was just up late one night at the videostore wired up on Jujubes and diet Coke while watching it. Also Keep an eye out for Don Stark who plays Hook. Yes it’s the same Don Stark that played Bob Picnciotti in that 70’s show and by gosh he still had the same hair and side burns. A great cheesy exploitation film, Retroman says check it out and be sure to be packin some heat.

- Multiple gang shootings
- 1 neck stabbing
- Medallion-fu
- Wacka-chicka-wacka fu
- Welcome Back Kotter doppelgangers
- Dairy Queen Dagger Queens
- Face plunging
- Swirly-fu
- Vita-van vandals
- Cadi-tanks
- Bellybutton ashtrays

Rated 8.9 out of 10

Check out the trailer for Switchblade Sisters

Our friends across the lake over in the U.K. have got some great high quality t-shirts for the movie geek in all of us. You can find great designs for Dusk til’ Dawn, Friday the 13th, Army of Darkness, Hellraiser, The Crow, Pulp Fiction and many more. Nerdoh offers top notch shirts that make in-film-reference that the true fan immediately recognzies. Wear one and show it off to your friends so you can look down at them for your obviously superior movie knowledge and fine fashion sense. Check out Nerdoh T-shirts today and remember to always shop Smart…Shop “S” Smart!

All of us here at Lost Highway graciously accept this truly awesome award given to us by Mykal over at Radiation Cinema. Mykal’s site is exploding with b-movie goodies from the Atomic Age, including many life saving video clips like one on how to survive a nuclear Fallout. So head on over to Radiation Cinema, but put on your radiation suit first.

In case you don’t know, here is a description about the award. “The Splash award is given to alluring, amusing, bewitching, impressive, and inspiring blogs.” Below are a few sites that we feel capture the essence of the Splash Award. Enjoy, and please support them!

Movie Meltdown

If you’re a movie geek who is passionate about movies, then I’ve found the perfect place for you that has other movie geeks. Each week this lively group of movie buffs get together to discuss a variety of movie related topics in a way that is both informative, and entertaining. First time listeners will surely become hooked after hearing one of their shows. This podcast is mics down one of the best, if not the best around.

Igloo of the Uncanny

The Igloo Keeper may be confined to an Igloo in the middle of nowhere, but he knows b-movies and his passion for these lost cinematic treasures is infectious. From black and white classics like Son of Frankenstein to contemporary films like Hell Boy 2, there is something for everyone on his site. Don’t forget to grab your winter coat before you journey over to the Igloo of the Uncanny.

Cinema Suicide

Bryan White and company run an absolutely wonderful site that champions the often shunned horror, exploitation and cult genres. The reviews are always top notch and written from a fan’s perspective, so you can definitely trust them. Also, the site easily has enough content to keep you busy for several hours. Be sure to visit Cinema Suicide for your daily fix of movie reviews, news and upcoming DVD releases.

“This has to be the worse salad bar I’ve ever seen.”

You know we’re living in a rough economy when even an American foundation like Playboy is struggling. They recently announced a net loss of 2.1 million dollars and they would have to lay off employees and tighten the company’s budget or face potential bankruptcy. I only wonder how is Hugh Hefner going to cut back? Will Playboy bunnies be forced to buy their own rabbit ears and sleazy lounge uniforms? Will there be less air brushing in the centerfolds? Will Hugh have to settle with only a couple girls on on his arms instead of the dozen or so buxom blondes normally surrounding him. It would be an American tragedy if he was forced to turn in the smoking jacket and pipe for a Walmart greeter uniform and smiley button flare. I mean how can this man survive in those conditions? The long established tradition of teenagers hiding their stash of Playboys under their mattresses is now at risk. Millions of them are at risk to be forced to read Sears underwear catalogs, playboy playmates out on the streets holding up signs that read “will tell you my likes and dislikes for food.” We simply can’t allow that to happen.

Speaking of men that  really like their melons, Charles Bronson plays Vince Majestyk, a Vietnam vet turn watermelon farmer and a collector of denim jackets and goofy hats. Vince is approached one day while working out in his fields by a scraggly Owen Wilson wanna-be named Bobby Copas. Bobby finds combing his hair difficult and likes to dress in cheap western wear while trying to talk farmers into hiring some of his gang of drunks and homeless. He’s sort of the used car dealers of cheap labor but Chuck Bronson will have no part of his shenanigans as he’s totally content with his $1 an hour illegal immigrant work force and smashes him in the groin with the end of his own shotgun. Now that’s how you negotiate a labor dispute. Majestyk has to serve some time at the county jail for that little fruit smashing incident and is worried about not being able to get his crops in on time but the sergeant doesn’t really care for fruit salad and makes him serve his sentence. While being transported on a prison bus along with a Mafia big fish, Frank Redna, a breakout attempt occurs along with big 70’s style shootout that gives Vince the chance to kidnap Frank and use him as leverage to help clear the charges against him. Though the thought of hiding out in a tiny cabin with a loud mouthed mobster might be a worser fate than any jail time. Frank is eventually picked up by his rail-thin girlfriend and Vince has to squeeze into the back seat of a 70’s Ford compact.

The drop off to the police doesn’t go as planned and Vince ends up tumbling out the backseat like a tossed watermelon into a ditch. Frank tries to shoot at him with typical bad guy accuracy and Vince easily escapes fleeing into the woods. Being the upright citizen Vince turns himself in to the police station only to find that Bobby Copas has dropped the assault charges against him so that he and his new Mafia friends can put some major hurt on Vince when he’s set free. Haven’t any of these guys ever seen a Death Wish movie?

With the help of a pretty immigrant union organizer named Nancy, Mr. Majestic goes back to his normal life of melon tossin’ and squinting in the sun until his workers start ending up getting bullied by Frank and company. Vince’s right hand man has his legs smashed, his workers are forced out of their homes at gunpoint, and policemen in Porta-Potties turn up dead…but that is barley even enough to curl his mustache.

The final straw is when a mobster hit squad shots up his watermelon crop with some semi machine guns while Vince is out putting the moves on La Senorita Nancy. Nothing makes a farmer angrier than a pointless melon massacre and he goes on a vengeful shooting spree against this gang of Gallagher impersonators. Finally, a fruit cup of justice is served. Some great cross country truck racing, cars getting pushed off cliffs, and a log cabin stand-off make the highlight reel in this 70’s film classic as Charlie Bronson becomes the ultimate watermelon vigilante. Retroman says check it out and don’t forget to spit out the seeds.

- 3 Shoot-outs
- 1 Mobster kidnapping
- Shotgun butt to the groin
- Multiple car chases and car explosions
- Water-melon-fu
- Drive by Porta-Potty attack
- 2 by 4 smack down
- Vehicular leg crushing

Rated 9.4 out of 10

My Uncle told me when I was a little kid if I didn’t spit out the watermelon seeds that a watermelon would grow in my stomach . So I thought that pregnant ladies were just carrying around watermelons in their bellies. So began my unhealthy fear of fruit…and of pregnant women.

Check out the trailer for Mr. Majestyk

“I had this same dream once after eating that all you can eat fried squid at the Chinese buffet”

The fishing season is upon us once again. That means it’s time for the men to take to the lakes as a united front against the deadliest of all enemies, the large mouth bass. Bass tournaments bring out the elite fishermen in droves with their shiny new sports fishing boats pimped out with a mean sounding Evinrude, some sweet cupholders, and 6 speaker radio systems that’ll make the deep bass thumpers in south central jealous. If there’s a single fish on the other side of the lake by gosh they’ll be able to swoop down on it like a puma. Fish will jump into the boat from pure intimidation. I on the other hand am used to the old flat-bottom and the good old hook and worm method of catching fish. No depth finders, fancy lures, or live wells, just a bobber and an unmatched ability to sit in one place for hours at a time. I’m not sure why they even call things like the bass tournament a competitive sport? Is there a swimming relay involved? Do the boats race laps around the lake? It’s just basically you tricking a fish with a tasty snack on a hook and dragging them out into the great beyond. To them it must seem like some sort of horrifying alien abduction. “Did you hear about Earl…yeah some food was just dangling there in mid air and he took a bit and got yanked up into the sky!” “Yeah he came back after a few minutes and said a voice told him he was too small.” So it’s a near death experience as well as a slap to their self esteem, but hey they’re sure are delicious with butter and look great stuffed over my mantle.

Speaking of some fish out of water, the movie Dagon has a whole darn village full of them looking for some tourists to sacrifice to their pagan squishy squid god Dagon. “Dag” is an ancient god of the sea who grants wishes and leaves gold fish trinkets on the beach like an underwater tooth fairy. It turns out that years ago the villagers sold their souls for fortune and fish and now are slowly getting turned into canned tuna. A pretty fair trade onto todays seafood market in my opinion.

Paul Marsh (Ezra Godden) and Barbara (Raquel Merono) along with another vacationing couple are on a 3 hour sailboat tour just off the island’s coastline when a freak storm suddenly strands them there on some jagged rocks.

Paul and Barbara head to the docks in a porta-raft to get help for one of the passengers who’s leg is now pinned below deck and is also getting stalked by a oily sludge creeping up from the waters below. Paul and Barbara find the island deserted and stumble into a  peculiar church that seems to be obsessed with golden eyeballs statues (the first church of Opthalmology perhaps?) They run into a pale faced priest who offers to get them help and call the police at the villages only hotel. Sure they have a Hotel 6 on the island but no Long John Silvers? No wonder their tourist season sucks.

Susan heads to the hotel while Paul takes a small boats back to the shipwreck to try help the other survivors. He climbs back aboard only to discover they’ve mysteriously disappeared. Unphased, Paul arrives at the hotel later on and decides to catch a few snoozes in his crack house of a room while waiting for Barbara’s return totally unaware that she’s already been kidnapped. Paul notices a big mob of walking sushi with pitch forks gathering outside ready open a big can of tuna whoop ass on him.

Paul’s dumb luck allows him to escape to the streets below where he makes the horrifying discovery that one of his boat guests has been skinned and gutted and made into clothing. Not wanting to end up the next pair of Docker pants he douces several villagers in lighter fluid for an impromptu fish fry and hides out under a staircase. There he’s greeted by the only human left on the island, a Spanish Santa looking fellow who

tells him the whole history of the island through a voiced over montage. His accent is so thick I’m not really sure what he said but I  believe it involved ritualistic sacrifices and quesadillas. Paul not being the brightest bulb on the christmas tree decides his best chance for escape is to steal the biggest car on the island from the Mayor’s mansion and try to track down his girlfriend. B-movie survival tip for ya folks, when you need to escape an island never pick a car! Inside the mansion he has just enough time to cop a feel on a bed-bound squid girl, wrestle with a jello spined chauffeur, and get a vicious toilet bowl swirly before ending up getting tangled up in a fish net.  His lack of strength is astounding. You’d think it would be pretty easy to over power some soft spinned amphibi-freaks that have the combined strength of my 90 year old grandma.

He tries to escape from the prison with some of the survivors but that only results in his new Spanish friend gets a involuntary facelift, old school style and his girlfriend getting strung up nekid for a Dagon sacrifice house party. You know Paul should have just stayed home that week and watched Shark week instead.

One of Stuart Gordon’s lesser know films but still a great re-imagining of a classic H.P. Lovecraft tale. Along with From Beyond and Reanimator I’d rank it up there as among the best Lovecreepian films I’ve seen thus far, and as usual don’t expect a happy ending. Retroman says dive on into the deep end but beware of those lovely squid ladies. Now if you’ll excuse me I have some fish sticks burning in the oven.

- Cop-a-gill
- Extreme wet dream
- Multiple fish fryings
- Web hands
- Arm ripping
- Toilet bowl swirlies
- Extreme facelifting

rated 9.1 out of 10

Red Dagon…for the seafood lover in you.

Check out the trailer for Dagon

“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 together..it’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

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