Tag Archives: bad movies

It Sure Wasn’t Shakespeare

Spoiler Alert! I intend to give away all major plot points of the following movie, including how they escape from the monsters and who lives at the end.

As I write this (on a break at work), I find I cannot quite recall the exact title of today’s cheesy horror flick. Something about shrews. Attack of the Killer Shrews or Giant Killer Shrews. You may guess from this that it is not a particularly memorable movie, and you’d be right.

I know what else you might be thinking: Shakespeare. I suspect the makers of the movie anticipated such a thing as well, because they have one of the characters say, “As in ‘Taming of’?” Which is exactly what Steven said when I informed him which movie we’d be watching. Imagine my husband having something in common with the main guy of a cheesy horror flick (I don’t say “hero.” I would not call most of these main guys heroes.)

It seems Main Guy is captain of a boat bringing supplies to an island. According to these movies, there are a bazillion isolated, difficult to reach islands, usually peopled with mad scientists, who often have beautiful daughters.

The scientist on this island has a beautiful daughter, but he’s not particularly mad. We know, of course, what animal he is researching, and the first ones we see are small.

“It looks like a rat,” remarks Main Guy. Actually, it looks like a mouse. “Does it bite?” he asks, as he holds it in his hand.

“Only when it’s hungry,” is the answer.

I forgot to mention that Main Guy does not intend to depart that night or even unload, because of an imminent hurricane. So it’s tough luck on Beautiful Daughter, who counted on leaving the island with him. She tries to convince him to stay with them in the house, not because he is so handsome and debonair (he’s neither), but because she is afraid. He, of course, intends to spend the night on the boat. In a hurricane! What the hell?

Scientist Dad has several people working for him in capacities that are never fully explained. One at least is a pure research assistant. He spends his last minutes recording his exact symptoms as he dies of poisonous shrew bite. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

First we meet Beautiful Daughter’s ex-fiance, a drunkard who left the cage door open. I don’t think we find out which of those if either factored into her breaking the engagement, but then, you know I never pay close attention to these things.

Soon we are all being terrorized by the giant shrews, which look like mice with long hair and are the size of wolves (I was going to say “dogs,” but you might say, “Chihuahuas? Great Danes?”) The close ups of the sharp teeth are scary enough. The beady eyes peeping through various orifices less so. In those shots you can pretty much tell they made use of perspective as a special effect.

The giant shrews have apparently eaten all possible food on the island and will soon begin eating each other, thus leaving the humans only one really fat shrew to deal with. It’s a good plan, except that the shrews discover the people and want to eat all of them first, quite naturally.

So the shrews start picking off the people one by one. It turns out the shrew bite is poisonous, so if you get bit you’re a goner even if you’re not dinner.

When they’re down to just four survivors — Dad, Daughter, Main Guy and Ex-Fiance — they decide to duck walk to the beach in oil drums. I’m not kidding you. Have you ever tried to duck walk any distance? I have not, but the mere thought of it hurts my thighs. They put these slits in the oil drums so they can see out, although I think that is mainly so we can have some scary shots of sharp teeth trying to break through.

So there they are, oil drums strapped together, only three of them because Ex-Fiance has decided to remain on the roof (guess what’s going to happen to him). The camera shows close ups on each face as they make their fearful way. Boy, are they good duck walkers! Their heads and shoulders don’t move at all! I know some dancers who would love to achieve that kind of isolation!

Oh, you don’t have to tell me I’m carping. Listen, I’m not method actress myself. I don’t feel I would need to actually duck walk through a jungle to convincingly look as if I might faint (did I really need to tell you Beautiful Daughter almost does?) (faint, I mean, not actually duck walk). Still, if I had been directing that scene, I would have insisted on at least a little up/down movement.

I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that all three make it to safety. I was a little relieved they let Dad live. Many movies would have killed him off. Some even would have offed the girl. I thought Ex-Fiance’s death was rather pointless. Often that character gets to do something heroic and sacrifice himself, since he obviously isn’t going to get the girl. Or he could have done something dastardly to save himself, but it backfires and he gets his comeuppance.

But no, he just jumps off the roof, while Steven and I yelled, “What are you thinking?” I suppose he figured the shrews were distracted, and he could run faster than the other three could duck walk. But, hello! How distracted do you think the shrews are?

Here’s a shrew, trying to get at a duck walker in an oil drum and he doesn’t have a can opener (oh, I’ve been there. It was cream of mushroom soup, but a similar frustration). Now here’s this fine specimen, out of a tin can and marinaded (remember? he’s a drunkard). What would you do if you were a hungry shrew? I thought so.

Scientist Dad says in X amount of time the shrews will have eaten each other, and the menace will be over. Phew! You don’t suppose they’ll start having babies really fast first, do you, and replenish supplies? Or maybe go vegetarian till something better comes along? Learn to swim? In short, adapt in time for a sequel. Well, if anybody hears of a sequel, please let me know.

NOTE: On consulting the TV Journal, I see the title is The Killer Shrews. Leonard Maltin doesn’t list it.

I Was in the Mood for a Fiend

I think any movie with Vincent Price is worth a watch. Of course, you never know what you may be in for. I’ve seen him in the cheesy William Castle flick House on Haunted Hill and the stylish noir Laura, to name two of my favorites. When I saw something called Diary of a Madman on TCM, I reached for the DVR button on the remote.

Diary of a Madman (1963) is based on a story by Guy de Maupassant. I’ll have to read the story sometime so I can compare/contrast. However, I thought I would write this blog post before I did any such thing.

The movie opens on a funeral — always a good start for a horror flick. A “good man” is dead — at least, that’s what the eulogy says. One lady emphatically does not buy into that description. Several people meet, at the behest of the dead man, for the reading of his diary. That’s right, not the will, the diary. Didn’t you see the title of the picture?

Flashback to Vincent Price as a highly respected magistrate, going to see a condemned killer before his execution. The killer protests his innocence: it’s not him, it’s the demon that possesses him. Then he tries to kill Price. Well, I guess the demon tries to. Price kills the murderer first, so what do you suppose will happen to the demon?

That much we read in the description of the movie on the guide channel. To continue a plot summary would, I think, call for a spoiler alert. I don’t intend to exactly recount the plot, but just to be on the safe side, consider yourself alerted for possible spoilers.

The demon, it seems, does not so much possess Price as follow him around, taunting him and occasionally making him do things. And to my mind, not nearly enough things. Come on, the first guy the demon possessed — and this is just backstory — killed four people without motive. It takes forever for Price to start murdering!

When he finally does kill someone, he is not nearly as fiendish as we like our Vincent to be. There is a rather satisfyingly macabre bit involving a sculpture of somebody we don’t like much anyways, so that helps. Price was an excellent actor. He could play the tormented sufferer who wants to do right and it is a fine performance. I was just in the mood for a fiend.

The ending has a definite “Waaait a minute!” quality, but then, movies using a diary as a framing device often do. I mean, people are very rarely able to describe their own death in a diary before it actually happens (I didn’t spoil anything; remember? it opened on his funeral).

Perhaps they could have overcome the difficulty with a voice-over narration, something along the lines of, “This is what I plan to do. If you’re reading this, you’ll know it worked.” But they made no use of voice-over narration. Kind of silly of them, since Vincent Price had such a nice voice. Astute readers may remember my saying that I don’t like voice-over narration. True, it’s not my favorite. In this case, however, it may have enabled them to skip over a bunch of the boring parts before he gets around to killing somebody. Then they could have fit in a few more murders.

I guess it’s not the job of a reviewer to tell the movie makers how to fix the movie. I can see the director now huffing, “Fine! You go make a movie!” I guess they have a point. Reviewers ought to review the movie they saw, not the movie they wished they would have seen. Well, leaving aside the fact that I rarely do what I ought to (and brag about it), I’m not a real reviewer! I write a silly blog! Where do these movie makers get off, talking to me like I’m Leonard Maltin? They should just go make another movie. Maybe I’ll write about it next week.

Cheesy Bikinis

I DVR’d Prehistoric Women (1967) based on its description on the digital cable guide channel, something to the effect of brunettes enslaving blonds in the jungle. What’s not to like?

The movie opens on the male protagonist (naturally), the leader of a safari who feels “responsible” for the jungle. Blah, blah, blah, get to the cheese already! He comes across some natives and watches their extended dance sequence. I don’t know if this was the well-researched, educational portion of the movie, but it involved a lot of butt-wiggling, especially on the part of the scantily clad female natives.

Our hero is captured by the natives and faces judgement by the White Rhino or some such nonsense (you know I don’t pay much attention to these details). Suddenly everybody but Hero freezes, some natives with their speeds in mid-air, and a wall to another part of the jungle opens up. This, I felt certain, is where we’ll meet the blonds and brunettes.

And so it proves. First Hero meets this gorgeous, dewy-eyed blond who bites him and runs away. Then they are both captured by the evil brunettes and thrown into a cave/jail.

“Are you here to help us?” the young blond asks, at her dewiest.

He’s like, “Uh, yeah, sure,” even though he really doesn’t know what’s going on yet (neither do we, but who cares?). Soon he meets the head brunette, who naturally wants to make him her boy toy.

At this point I couldn’t quite understand why all the girls were not having sex with him, because it struck me as such a porno plot (no, I don’t watch pornos, but I saw one once and, anyways, it is pretty well known what constitutes the plot of a pornographic movie, so just quit snickering) (you know who you are).

According to Leonard Maltin (Leonard Maltin’s 2007 Movie Guide, Penguin Group, New York, 2006), who gives it a star and a half, the movie has a cult following because of the “commanding, sensual performance” of the head brunette. Oh, please! The movie has a cult following because a whole bunch of women spend a lot of time running around in leather bikinis!

I don’t know where these women found blow-driers and eye-liner in the jungle, but they are certainly all gorgeous. It is not clear who they’re being gorgeous for, because all the men are confined in some cavern doing hard labor (the benefit of which is also not clear, because, you know, jungle). And, no, there is no girl-on-girl action, barring a couple of wrestling matches in which nobody loses a top (so don’t get your hopes up). I’m sure this flick had no problem garnering a PG rating.

Anyways, our Hero naturally does not want to be boy toy, the more so because he has fallen in love with Dewy Eyes. So Head Brunette throws him underground with the rest of the men. While there, he finds out the whole back story of why they are all there, brunettes in charge etc.

It’s a real “Waaaait a minute!” plot. For one thing, it’s been this way for as long as Dewy Eyes can remember, but the women are all in the 18 to 24 age group. The men have a greater age range and are a good deal less gorgeous. Really, I don’t see why they could not have provided some eye candy for us female viewers. But perhaps I ask too much.

One blond, in a moment of wisdom, says they must stop looking at the men as their enemies. I personally am not a fan of the battle of the sexes, so was in agreement with this sentiment, but I had thought this was a story about blond vs. brunette, a premise that could take up a whole blog post all on its own if I were so inclined.

But that’s neither here nor there. I was highly entertained by this ridiculous movie, even thought I saw the “Or was it?” ending a mile away (no, I’m not going to tell you! I didn’t even include a spoiler alert!). Oh, and you can tell Leonard Maltin if you see him that he doesn’t have to make up stories about commanding performances. I don’t mind if he likes to look at ladies in leather bikinis.

The Whistler Once Again

I was very happy on Saturday morning to see another Whistler movie listed for TCM. I naturally DVR’d it for Steven’s and my enjoyment on Sunday. By the way, Spoiler Alert! Although I do not intend to give away the ending.

The Secret of the Whistler opens with the usual shadow of a man and sound of whistling followed by voice-over narration.

I have not mentioned that all the Whistler movies have starred Richard Dix. So far we’ve seen him as a businessman who changes his mind about suicide by hit man, a mysterious stranger who enlists the help of a beautiful blond, and a rich guy who turns to murder after supposedly learning how to live. This time out he plays an apparently not very talented artist who nobody particularly likes living off his ailing wife.

The description of the movie in the Guide said an artist’s second wife suspects he killed the first wife. This is a plot that has worked very well in any number of gothic romance novels (these are the paperback books with a full moon, a castle and a beautiful girl running, not the teenagers with lots of black make-up) (I suppose I have just dated myself). It took me a while to realize they were going to spend most of the picture getting him married to Wife No. 2.

The movie starts out creepily enough with a woman ordering her own tombstone. At least, the movie clearly means for us to find it creepy or at least surprising. Haven’t these people every heard of pre-planning one’s funeral? The lady says, “You will be notified,” when asked date of death. Well, duh! I think it would have been a good deal more creepy if she had known the date. On the other hand, that may have meant she planned to commit suicide. Oh, hey, what if she would have put as her epitaph: “Murdered.” Just a thought.

Where was I? Ah yes, soon we have the set-up: unsuccessful artist husband sponging off dying wife while making up to beautiful blond gold-digger model. The other characters include a female artist, apparently successful, and her reporter boyfriend and another male artist who is friend and sometime employer of Blondie.

Richard Dix plays all sad-eyes my-wife-is-dying while Blondie plays all wide-eyed sympathy till we’re not really sure who is playing who. Actually, I wish they had played up Blondie as cold-hearted gold-digger a little more. For one thing, when she starts to suspect her new husband of murder she could have had blackmail on her mind. For all I know she did. I don’t think the actress was quite clear on the character’s motivations.

The movie takes an awfully long time to get going. A few times the Whistler addresses Richard Dix, asking him is he getting paranoid, is he getting desperate? I don’t think he did that in the other pictures. Once things do start moving, they move quickly enough gloss over a couple of “Wait a minute!” points.

For example, the loyal (to the first wife) maid is still around, per provision in the will (really, you would think first wife would have left the poor woman a pension, not just a crappy job). The maid says she’s staying to prove the husband a murderer. All she has to do is find the diary. Hello! They were on a three month honeymoon, during which time all the dead wife’s things were moved to the attic and the house redecorated. Even if the maid was locked out for the three months, are her duties so onerous she couldn’t find ten minutes to look in the attic since? It certainly doesn’t take Blondie very long to find said diary when she goes up there.

Things wrap up pretty quickly, as Whistler movies tend to do. Not a bad movie in spite of the slow start. I wish they had done a little more with the tombstone and given the minor characters more scenes, but what do I want in an hour and fifteen minutes? For a cheesy interlude on a Sunday, I enjoyed it.