Craptacular Classic of the Week!
Oh, sure, lots of people go and review films.
They get all high falutin' and act like they're soooo sophisticated 'cause they're reviewing something with plot, quality dialogue, skilled actors and moderately accomplished production values.
What about the films that happen to be, er, lacking in those areas?
Don't they deserve a chance?
Won't someone review them?
Thank God for me, eh?
When there is a film so crappy, that no one of any reputable writing skills will take it on, heck, I see my niche right there!
Let me begin this new weekly feature with a wonderfully shitty flick called...
are you ready for this one?
Hard Rock Zombies
No, I'm not kidding.
This meandering pile of celluloid excrement was made in 1985.
My guess is that standards were pretty low back then.
Our Plot:
A hot looking 80's babe with poofed up hair, and dressed in slutty attire is hitching, and some horny young men pick her up, looking for fun. Bad move. She entices them to skinny dip with her, and DUH DUH DUH! KILLS them!
Hey, waitaminute, who is the guy in the suit taking pictures of the whole thing while a pair of midgets cavort around him?
We move to a bar, where a group of talentless cretins are doing a very bad job of lip synching to a horribly bad attempt to meld Journey with Loverboy. (Yes, the music is THAT bad)
The drummer can't even be bothered to pretend to play. He just stands there and hits the drums every once in awhile, and never in time with the tune. The mulleted bass player is the singer.
They are playing this show because their manager has lined up a big time music biz type to see their next show in....Grand Guginol?
The singer, Jesse seems to be resistant to the manager's attempt to publicize the band. He storms out of photo session only to meet...THE GIRL. She acts coy, and tell him not to play in her town.
Why? So we can kill another 90 minutes?
That'll do.
They are on the road, and they....see a hot blonde hitchhiker! Oooh, let's pick her up! Less than a minute later, she tells them to pull off the road at her house, and the band can stay there.
Suspicious of a woman hitching less than a mile from home?
Not this bunch of wool-headed bufoons. They cavort in town. Townies don't like them. Apparently they have musical taste.
They're warned to leave. They don't.
We go back to the slutty blonde's house. Her grandma and grandpa are getting it on.
Ugh. Ewww.
The midgets are watching.
Double ewww.
Band gets busted. The Girl tries to bail them out.
Slutty Girl does though, and the band rehearses at her place. Grandma and Grandpa watch, as the midgets attempt to electrocute the band. Mullet Man saves the day, so the denizens of the house kill them in other ways.
Manager is having dinner after funeral. Grandma tells about how happy funerals can be.
Grandpa rages, and reveals......that he is Hitler.
I kid you not.
No, seriously, he's Hitler.
He has big plans.
But, way back in the van, our bass playing dipshit, discovered a set of notes, that when played bring the dead back to life!!!
The Girl has been given a cassette of the tune, she plays it, and our heroes come back to life to sort of save the day.
They even play several numbers after death. Sadly, the tune is not improved. The agent type wants to sign them up however.
He's among the braindead here.
They also....strut, for lack of a better word. Sort of a combination of the Robot, and race-walking. They look seriously retarded doing this, I kid you not. They kill Hitler and Co. The Townies are worried about the zombies. Carnage ensues. The bad guys come back to life, the good guys do, the townies do, and nobody has the slightest clue as to what the fuck is going on.
My guess is because the director didn't have a clue either.
When all is over The Girl and the manager have sorta hooked up, but she still has feelings for dead Jessie.
I looked this stinking pile up on IMDB. Apparently it was made to be part of another shitty flick, called American Drive In, and was only supposed to be what the people in that movie were watching onscreen. (Those poor bastards) The producers said, "Aw, what the hell, we've got $137.50 into it so far, let's drop another $43.26 on it and call it a movie!"
Now, when I grade flicks, I base them on value received=money spent.
Movies like this cannot use such a scale.
Craptacular flicks need a different scale.
Flushes 1-4, ie, how many flushes it takes to wipe the stench of this flick away.
They get all high falutin' and act like they're soooo sophisticated 'cause they're reviewing something with plot, quality dialogue, skilled actors and moderately accomplished production values.
What about the films that happen to be, er, lacking in those areas?
Don't they deserve a chance?
Won't someone review them?
Thank God for me, eh?
When there is a film so crappy, that no one of any reputable writing skills will take it on, heck, I see my niche right there!
Let me begin this new weekly feature with a wonderfully shitty flick called...
are you ready for this one?
Hard Rock Zombies
No, I'm not kidding.
This meandering pile of celluloid excrement was made in 1985.
My guess is that standards were pretty low back then.
Our Plot:
A hot looking 80's babe with poofed up hair, and dressed in slutty attire is hitching, and some horny young men pick her up, looking for fun. Bad move. She entices them to skinny dip with her, and DUH DUH DUH! KILLS them!
Hey, waitaminute, who is the guy in the suit taking pictures of the whole thing while a pair of midgets cavort around him?
We move to a bar, where a group of talentless cretins are doing a very bad job of lip synching to a horribly bad attempt to meld Journey with Loverboy. (Yes, the music is THAT bad)
The drummer can't even be bothered to pretend to play. He just stands there and hits the drums every once in awhile, and never in time with the tune. The mulleted bass player is the singer.
They are playing this show because their manager has lined up a big time music biz type to see their next show in....Grand Guginol?
The singer, Jesse seems to be resistant to the manager's attempt to publicize the band. He storms out of photo session only to meet...THE GIRL. She acts coy, and tell him not to play in her town.
Why? So we can kill another 90 minutes?
That'll do.
They are on the road, and they....see a hot blonde hitchhiker! Oooh, let's pick her up! Less than a minute later, she tells them to pull off the road at her house, and the band can stay there.
Suspicious of a woman hitching less than a mile from home?
Not this bunch of wool-headed bufoons. They cavort in town. Townies don't like them. Apparently they have musical taste.
They're warned to leave. They don't.
We go back to the slutty blonde's house. Her grandma and grandpa are getting it on.
Ugh. Ewww.
The midgets are watching.
Double ewww.
Band gets busted. The Girl tries to bail them out.
Slutty Girl does though, and the band rehearses at her place. Grandma and Grandpa watch, as the midgets attempt to electrocute the band. Mullet Man saves the day, so the denizens of the house kill them in other ways.
Manager is having dinner after funeral. Grandma tells about how happy funerals can be.
Grandpa rages, and reveals......that he is Hitler.
I kid you not.
No, seriously, he's Hitler.
He has big plans.
But, way back in the van, our bass playing dipshit, discovered a set of notes, that when played bring the dead back to life!!!
The Girl has been given a cassette of the tune, she plays it, and our heroes come back to life to sort of save the day.
They even play several numbers after death. Sadly, the tune is not improved. The agent type wants to sign them up however.
He's among the braindead here.
They also....strut, for lack of a better word. Sort of a combination of the Robot, and race-walking. They look seriously retarded doing this, I kid you not. They kill Hitler and Co. The Townies are worried about the zombies. Carnage ensues. The bad guys come back to life, the good guys do, the townies do, and nobody has the slightest clue as to what the fuck is going on.
My guess is because the director didn't have a clue either.
When all is over The Girl and the manager have sorta hooked up, but she still has feelings for dead Jessie.
I looked this stinking pile up on IMDB. Apparently it was made to be part of another shitty flick, called American Drive In, and was only supposed to be what the people in that movie were watching onscreen. (Those poor bastards) The producers said, "Aw, what the hell, we've got $137.50 into it so far, let's drop another $43.26 on it and call it a movie!"
Now, when I grade flicks, I base them on value received=money spent.
Movies like this cannot use such a scale.
Craptacular flicks need a different scale.
Flushes 1-4, ie, how many flushes it takes to wipe the stench of this flick away.
posted by Dunnyman's Castle at 2:20 AM
4 Comments:
No, not you too! I was forced to watch some of this a few months back. I made it up to the part right before the band gets killed and I threatened to kill Jesse it he didn't turn it off.
If you haven't already, I suggest you check out Meat Market. That one will take about nine flushes.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Where do you guys find this stuff! I Wanna see!!!!
Damn funny post, Greg! A part of me wants to see the craptacular, but another part screams 'save the brain and spend the time watching else!'
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