 Astro-Zambonies
Directed by Carboy
St. Pappleskitz, the same twisted genius that brought us "Astro-Can Openers",
"Astro-Scissors", "Astro-Litterbox", "Astro-Catfish" and "Dumbo's House
of Astro-Disembowelment", this movie is so gosh darn scary you'll wish
you never heard the name Carrot Top. That's right, this movie 'stars' Carrot
Top. Are you scared yet? Well despite the obvious horror that is that freakish
bastard stepchild of Lucille Ball's rotten corpse and Gene Shallot (who's
not too fresh himself), this movie is plenty terrifying. The plot centers
around Amble Hindbender, a would-be paraplegic lounge singer with a conjoined
twin. Like most would-be paraplegic lounge singers conjoined at the forehead
with their parasitic twin, Amble longs to be rid of his diaper rash and
be able to eat solid food. Played with effortless conviction by a Dell
Computer running Linux, Amble depicts the frustrated angst known only to
a computer running incompatible software. Enter Carrot Top as a toilet
brush. One would think that starring as a toilet brush would be the death
keel for anyone's acting career but keep in mind that Carrot Top isn't
really an actor and he hasn't really had a career per se, so short of becoming
French and marrying Drew Barrymore, it would be hard for him to lose much
in the way of respectability, having had none to begin with. The real terror
though is in the Zambonies - those beautiful, majestic creatures - as they
invade Earth from their home world, a distant planet known as Planet Upchuck.
These magnificent beings, so graceful, viciously mow down their victims
at a terrifying pace of 10 miles per hour while spreading steaming hot
water from beneath their metallic exterior. It's up to Amble and Carrot
Top/toilet brush to stop them. A fierce battle ensues where Carrot Top
dials down the center, and saves us all on collect calls. St. Pappleskitz
gives us many a shot of death by Zambonie and the evils of black ice. Shots
of victims being caught and crushed under these leisurely moving beasts
are many. The ending where Carrot Top is used to clean out a few hundred
port-a-Johnny's is a truly beautiful piece of cinematography.
 The
Brunch Of Frankenstein
Dear sweet mother
of Darwin this movie is horrific! One would think that after all those
other Frankenstein monster movies that there wouldn't be any more story
left in this old goat of a franchise but if you thought that then you would
be wrong. Dead wrong! Klempfler Jigglewatts stumbles upon an old underground
cavern that houses the remains of Mann der köstlichsten butterartigen
Kuchen des goldenen süsser Tasting, or Butter as he's now called here.
Burnt and stinky, and covered in venomous maple syrup, Butter is a mere
sticky shadow of his former self, having once been the premier Breakfast
King and Maker of Delicious Pancake Goodness. No longer. Not content with
being a second string fry cook at MacDonald's (the paper hats made him
itchy), and having been beaten down by everyone from Aunt Jemima to Pauly
Shore, Butter came to this underground cavern to wither away his moldy
old green butt into blessed breakfast oblivion. But Klempfler has other
ideas. Seeing the potential in having a gargantuan crusty green monster
make scrumptious and wholesome breakfast-type foods to the unwashed masses,
Klempfler devises to capitalize on what once was Butter's greatness: Brunch.
What follows is a horrific revival of the International House of Frankenstein
where Butter makes some simply delightful brunch items like blood-soaked
scrambled eggs, chocolate waffles, O negative tea, and pickled onion muffins.
All the food is make with adoration: delicious treats that are lovingly
prepared yet terribly EVIL! Patron after patron rush to try Butter's new
creations - turnip and raspberry pancakes, snake venom ginger snaps and
weasel tail omelets. Just as things seem to be going well and Klempfler
and his stooge Butter are raking in the cash, a group of angry hyenas attack
the restaurant causing untold damage to Butter's dream of world domination
through evil breakfast foods. Oh the horror! Will the town's people help
Butter this time or will they disembowel him with cheese sticks and cream
cheese puffs? Can Klempfler get his pallid carcass out of town before he's
beaten with coleslaw and French toast (number 5 on the menu)? Will yet
another sequel be made? A scary film indeed! Deftly acted by mannequins
and written by a team of crack-addicted chimps, this movie will have you
riveted to your seat. You'll never look at brunch the same way again.
 It
Came From Beneath The Ass
Blame Dom Delouise.
I do. And why not? You can’t really call what he’s been doing for the last
30 years acting, now can you? More like jumping around like a buffoon while
screeching his lines at the camera. Case in point: this movie. What was
originally meant as a pseudo- documentary/comedy about Delouise’s most
recent calling as a chef – and we should be glad that he undertook this
foray as it took him out of ‘acting’ for a while - It Came From Beneath
The Ass proved that the old saying was correct: truth is stranger than
fiction. While preparing to create steamed tripe with octopus and lima
bean chutney, Delouise inadvertently allows some deadly vapors to escape
his body in his TV cooking studio. This not only knocks out half the film
crew and live audience but also renders first (and last) time director,
Flimpmonk Shigglestits, comatose for 2 days. Assistant director Albino
Flan’s quick thinking captures the mayhem that ensues as Delouise, giant
bag of gas that he is, continues to blow noxious flumes uncontrollably
out of his mud flaps. Paint peels, windows shatter, and buildings crumble
as the toxic fumes waif over what appears to be downtown Toronto, but really
isn’t. But the scariest moment comes when one of Delouise’s gaseous anomalies
begins to form an image – a rather frightening one at that. In the cloud
emerges a smelly, turban-clad figure; cross-eyed and bearded, drooling
like a brain-dead idiot. It could be special effects or it could be all
those undigested pork rinds; I’m not sure which. It’s about this time that
I start to wonder why Dom Delouise’s would agree to do this, or any other,
movie. I think the man knows he’s about as much of a real actor as Michael
Jackson is a real human. If this guy cooks as well as he acts, then there’s
a lot of food poisoning going on in Tinseltown. I’ll bet Delouise has accidentally
killed more people than OJ. Anyway, the crew continues to film as frightened
citizens run screaming in horror. I’m not sure if they’re running from
the odor or from Delouise himself, as he prances down the street whirling
about like Richard Simmons on a sugar high. I keep waiting for Delouise
to make a detour to Taco Bell and order up two dozen refried bean burritos,
scarf down a dozen bags of cheese puffs, stuff a carton of Suzie Q’s down
his maw and wash it all down with a gallon of gravy, but that never happens.
Hey, maybe I’m being too hard on Delouise’s lack of talent. Maybe I shouldn’t
blame him. I mean, maybe I should turn my attention to his buddy, that
stellar example of stunning ‘acting’ talent known as Burt ‘Redneck’ Reynolds:
for without him, Delouise wouldn’t have much of a career at all now would
he? Yeah, that’s it. For now on, I’m going to blame Burt Reynolds. Most
people probably already do.
 The
Plan For Planet X
It came from Planet
X. Or should I say, Jason X came from Planet X. Or at least in this movie
he does. Before coming here to Wacky Advice to fill our lives with irritated
joy, Jason X was starring in bad B- movies like this one. Unfortunately,
having been telecasted in Hollywood, Jason often had to play an alien type
bent on world domination. Considering that this isn’t really a stretch
for our beloved Jason, its no wonder he abandoned this career for his more
lucrative position as the radioactive Dear Abby at Wacky Advice. Or at
least I think that’s what his business cards say. Anyway, here Jason plays
Bucka Boo, a fluffy space alien type bent on world domination. Upon landing
on Earth Jason has his henchman carry him to the local liquor store to
pick up a few dozen cases of light beer and Hostess Snack Cakes. Discovering
that beer is yummy and the saturated fats in the snack cakes cause his
arteries to shrink up and constrict the blood flow to his giant alien brain,
Jason decides to take over the world one six pack at a time. Ravenous for
Schlitz Malt Liquor Jason hightails it over to the White House where he
drains the livers of both George “Wonder Boob” Bush and Dick “I’m not a
crook” Cheney. Drunk with both power and Corona Extra, he then proceeds
to Ted Kennedy’s house where one can only gasp in awe at the large selection
of booze both in Kennedy’s house and stored conveniently in his colossally
bloated liver. Enter Yugoslatz Wassle, as a sideshow freak and Washington
intern (aren’t they one and the same?) played by the famous, bald, cross-dressing
poodle, Giggles. Jason is instantly drawn to this sultry, bald-headed woman
with a glass eye and four legs. The plot wants us to believe that love
will conquer over the ultimate power of complete world domination, tasty
Hostess Snack Cakes and tons of booze. Not only is that a tough sell,
but also Yugoslatz and Jason have about as much chemistry as Bert and Ernie.
Do we really think some bald-headed, four legged gimp has the power to
stop Jason’s craving for beer and processed sugary pastries? The special
effects here are about convincing as William Shatner’s hair. Directed by
Clump Zucchini, a raving dope fiend who sold his own spleen into slavery
to make the money to produce this movie, the budget was as low as the turn
out for Demi Moore’s last movie. Filmed entirely by manic squirrels, this
movie is proof that Zucchini couldn’t make a film to save his spleen.
 Island
Of Lost Socks
So that’s where
they all go! What a silly monkey I am! And here I thought they went to
Area 51 in New Mexico. Or was that just a bad TV show? Oh no matter. Anyway,
this is a genuinely terrifying movie. It’s like watching a Gillian’s Island
marathon after an overdose of tranquilizers and Vicks Vapor Rub. Charles
(C-Dog) Ughughugh portrays Dr. Varnaby Imple, a sophisticated halfwit and
beauty school drop out. Varnaby believes that mismatched socks are the
key to global domination. Why that would be I don’t know but then no one
has ever accused Varnaby of being incredibly bright. Nope, he’s definitely
not the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you know what I mean. But I kid
the knives. Anyway, Varnaby is assisted in this evil quest by none other
than me, Simian T. Marmoset, as Happy his faithful monkey sidekick. Don’t
ask me how I got yet another part as a small monkey in a horror movie:
I was really, really drunk at the time, so it’s a wonder I was even able
to screech out my lines at all. But I kid my lines. This film was shot
entirely at the local Dairy Queen in Seabrook NH - a place where everyone
has that healthy glow of massive radiation exposure - by a talking horse
named George and a bubble-loving cocker spaniel. The sound quality is a
little bad, considering the dog didn’t know how to operate a boom mike,
and George was more interested in eating the props. The film follows Varnaby
and Happy as we venture to a deserted island somewhere in the Atlantic,
and dub it the Island of Lost Socks, so as not to be confused with the
Island of Lost Car Keys, the Island of Dead Batteries or the Island of
Potato Crotch – the Game. Here on our island Varnaby starts his experiments
with the socks – vile, evil experiments where socks are baked into pies
or rolled around on little rocks – oh the horror! Varnaby’s evil plot also
has him working on a way to use dryer lint as global currency. Vile, vile
Dr. Imple! At one point Varnaby hires Joe Don Baker (oh yeah, like he’s
got better film offers!) to wear a fur coat and taunt the socks with hot
pokers and his horrible breath. Who will stop Varnaby and Joe Don Baker?
Someone really should stop Joe Don Baker too, before we get Mitchell 2:
Is That A Beer? Anyway, this is a movie that dares you to welcome the coming
global apocalypse: if for nothing else than to spare you Baker’s stab at
‘acting’. Before there was Hasslehoff, there was Baker. Except the Germans
don’t like Baker. Scary indeed!
 Draculump
Has A Vision At The Rave
Christopher Pee
is Mr. Lardlumps as Draculump. And he makes the performance of his life
here, capturing the stupidity and offensiveness of Lardlumps’ Draculump.
And appropriate to Mr. Lardlumps’ personality, Christopher Pee gives Draculump
just the right touch: he’s a complete idiot with hygiene issues. Of course
it also goes without saying that Lardlumps’ himself is a moron with issues
about proper hygiene, which is probably the reason why Lardlumps wasn’t
asked to return for this sequel. For those who don’t remember the original
movie (a cinematic masterpiece), Draculump is a reeking atrocity of a creature,
who craves searing hot human bile from fresh, living pancreas. This really
is truly disgusting and Draculump is shunned by nearly everyone. Gosh can
you blame them? I mean, a monster that sucks blood, or eats your heart
out, or rips your face off, now that’s scary. But sucking bile from someone’s
pancreas? I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t really strike too much
fear in my heart (or pancreas), although I admit to a wee bit of nausea,
but then again, I think my pancreas has been pickled with all that bourbon.
But I kid my pancreas. Of course it doesn’t help Draculump that he also
can’t seem to bring himself to take a bath once in a while either. Anyway,
Draculump, hungry and yearning for fresh bile wanders into the town of
Mimetopia, a place that consists solely of unwashed and unsavory French
people (are there any other kind?). Since Draculump isn’t the first hygienically
challenged individual to grace this town, he goes unnoticed for quite a
few days before several of his victims start turning up, dead and bile
less, in gutters and alleys throughout town. To hide his identity Draculump
poses as an inept DJ, Puffy Skunk Mac Daddy, at the local rave. After spinning
MC Crap Master forty eight times in one night, Draculump has an epiphany.
What that actually is, we really aren’t sure. But it has something to do
with stuffing mustard seeds in his ears and watching Celebrity Fear Factor.
Or maybe it was starring on Fear Factor. Well it’s not like Draculump would
balk at eating live worms or anything. I mean come one he sucks bile for
Chim Chim’s sake! But I digress. A very tough act to follow after the success
of the original film, Pee makes a very good Lardlumps impression in that
he is both feted and disgusting, all the while leaving the viewer with
the image of Lardlumps as a truly repulsive bag of bloated sausages, devoid
of any sympathy. And we all know how much sympathy Mr. Lardlumps should
get, now don’t we? Produced by Snackwurst Inc.: don’t miss all those product
placements kids!
 Planet
Of The Alcoholics
Can there be too
much booze? Perish the thought! And just how much booze is too much booze?
Well if you ask me, not that anyone did, I say you can never have too much
hard alcohol sloshing around in your liver. And this movie backs me up
on this. Need I say how much I love this movie? It's all about a planet
just rife with booze, booze and more booze. Starring a wobbly Dick Van
Dyke, Robert 'Vodka by the Quart' Downey Jr., Judy Garland's corpse, and
fresh out of rehab David Hasslehoff this movie transports us to that magical
planet where gin springs from fountains, the seas are made of bourbon and
bottles of Schnapps grows on trees. It's like heaven to this little monkey.
No liver goes unpunished here. And all the drunken, overblown, scenery
chewing acting here is punishment enough. Like Peter O'Toole waking up
in his own vomit, or Robert Downey Jr. snorting enough cocaine to send
a herd of elephants into rehab this movie delivers the goods in both horror
and suspense. Will Courtney Love stop shooting up heroin long enough to
record an album before her only actual 'career' has completely fizzled?
Or will she continue to torture the movie going public with her inane attempt
at acting? Can Dick Van Dyke stay awake long enough to finish watching
the Matlock marathon? Or will he curse the day that Andy Griffith beat
him senseless with his own colostomy bag? The movie that answers the question
of why Judy Garland didn't strangle Liza Minelli at birth (she was too
drunk) brings the audience one step closer to 12-step recovery hell. We
see Richard Burton, still dead after all these years, cough up a lung while
chugging more than half his body weight in Pepto Bismal and rum. And David
Hasslehoff, a large mass of greasy white flesh who looks like he's eaten
more canned ham than the whole state of Mississippi, mugs stupidly for
the camera and laments about his days as the geriatric star of Baywatch
Nights. Lassie is a better actor than Hasslehoff; there hasn't been a more
horrifying piece of acting tripe since Emmanuel Lewis did his Gary Coleman
impersonation while portraying Webster on prime time. But I kid Webster.
Filmed by a roving band of circus midgets with Camcorders duct taped to
their heads, this movie has the shaky feel of the DTs in the drunk tank.
And everyone here looks like they're posing for their police photo after
the third DWI. The only real question I have is why I wasn't asked to play
a part in this delightful film. It's not like I couldn't drink Burton's
corpse under the table or anything. I highly recommend this movie, but
I strongly urge viewers not to try to match these boozing pros drink for
drink or you may wind up in a coma under your couch, twitching like an
unconscious Todd Bridges after a beat down in lock up. Ah booze heals all
wounds!
 Rappers
From Space
Yo dawg, wha’ hap.
Word to my homies back in the hood, ya’ll. Proper! Dis movie be wack –
word! Props to Capital P n’ Q-Tip, some dope homies done busta starred
in this wack groove. Dis be one tripping film. Chill DJ’s lay down some
wack beats getting the sound out to the blinks in space. Busta move ya’ll!
Ain’t no one resists a stupid thrash n’ def speaks – Yeah dawg we get jiggy
wid it, yo. Capital P n Q-T, taking care o’ business boyz, done lay down
one phat beat. Yo buss dis, homie, ya’ll busta rap yo. Dey be heroes to
de peeps, stompin’ that a mad invasion from Planet Chump Change led by
Homeslice, one mad-slap pimp daddy. He dones wanna steals da Earth be-atches
fo’ Chump Change. Get out, Holmes! That so wack, yose gots to lay down
props to the Man, shee-it. Ain’t nothing butta buss crack ho, that ain’ts
gots my money to pay up. Aww yeah G. That be too crazy sick yo. Cap P n’
Q-Tip living large off da bacon, just be chilling in dere phat crib, freaking
with the honeys, but ain’t it mad sick, da DJ’s gots to crimp dem alien
be-atches. Honeys done be writing out the math fo’ our fly DJ’s. They be
so Rico Suave, ain’t noting sweeter dan dat. You knows wha’ I’m saying
Holmes. Shee-it, yeah. You know what I’m sayin’! Ain’t nothing like the
g-thing, dawg. Whiles our fly master flash DJ’s keep it real yo, dey gets
a gang warfis wif da space junkies see? What the dilly oh? Kin Capital
P n’ Q-Tip shake that pimp daddy n’ save da Earth honeys? Who’s gonna get
a cap in da ass? Loading a nine n’ squeezing lead G! All fore dey blow
out the afterglow. MC Pampers done makes face time on the silver wif his
dope fly version o’ “Ain’t Ma Be-Atches Sassy?” Yeah booy-z! Filmed lock,
stock n gun barrel in rap-o-rama - aww yeah – dis piece o’ rap faire done
be dope fly. Yeah, it be wack, ya’ll. It’s all about the Benjamin’s – oh
yeah. Word to yo’r moms!
(Translation: This
enjoyable movie stars musicians Capital P and Q-Tip as DJ’s and singer
Homeslice as a space villain bent on stealing the women of Earth. Capital
P and Q-Tip foil the plans of Homeslice. Musician MC Pampers makes a cameo
singing his most recent hip-hop single.)
 The
Space Cheese
It's from space
and it's cheese. It's not like that crappy government cheese that never
went rancid and tasted like week old road kill. No, this is an interstellar
dairy product gone funky and ready to take over the world! It's a sort
of space brie cheese, runny yet dense, with a pungent odor. One would think
that this cheese is destined for crackers at a wine tasting but when you
have a hunk of cheese 16 stories high, weighing in at about one hundred
tons, all gooey and nauseating, barreling down on unsuspecting victims
at an incredible speed of forty five miles per hour, you kind of don't
see it as the wine-tasting type of cheese, more like the ravenous, carnivorous,
devil cheese that it really is. Where did this space cheese come from?
Why is it so bent on eating the inhabitants of Earth? Does it go well with
wine or red? Mimble Sackfred plays Blabby Slamblaster, who plays Crimply
Flugmontgumery, a penguin herder trapped in a loveless marriage with his
toaster in the rural town of Spitmuck, somewhere in the Midwest. Instead
of getting a divorce - the toaster won't sign the papers - Crimply pretends
to be dead in his back yard for days in the hopes that his carcass is taken
to the morgue. There he meets the love of his life Emoo Hipreplacement,
a Belgium mime with one leg that now works as the mortuary's really bad
makeup artist. Emoo, played with scant believability by real one-legged
Belgium mime actress, Mirimoot Dostink, is about as good of an actress
as Don Johnson is as a singer. Which translates into incredibly horrible.
When she hobbles into a room one can feel the air just being sucked up,
causing the other actors to gasp out their lines like barking arctic seals
gagged with duct tape. Emoo has about as much personality as a flashlight
without batteries and an equal amount of talent. Crimply on the other hand
gives a performance of a lifetime as the squalid penguin herder who's torn
between his love for Emoo and his loyalty to his old toaster. Meanwhile
the cheese has begun its hideous task of devouring the populous. Will Crimply
save his love or go back to his harpy toaster? Can Emoo hop fast enough
to get out of the way of the voracious dairy creation? Director Crème
Brule adds tremendous moody atmosphere by filming the entire picture with
the camera lens covered in sour cream, mmmm! Now that's what I call atmosphere!
And check out the snarly soundtrack by the Burning Kells.
 The
Mouse Of The Holocaust
Dinosaurs! Giant
greasy worms! Flightless birds with really sharp beaks! Yapping poodles!
A guy in a cheap rabbit suit! You want to see all that in one movie? Look
no further than The Mouse of the Holocaust. Or better yet, just don’t look.
Oh, like there’s a plot to this film. Really there isn’t one, so don’t
bother trying to find one. As good as a sharpened fork in the eye this
movie will numb your brain into a quivering mass of pulpy grey matter,
sloshing around like gelatinous chowder in your skull. Based on a really
bad novel by Crimp Dogham, a disgruntled midget Postal worker, this movie
stars Elvis Shortliver as Mr. Bunny, a magical fairy who makes pretty rainbows
and candy fall from the sky. He somehow winds up in the Land of the Lost
where he can no longer get his Valium prescription filled and there are
no frozen burritos. If this is the best Crimp Dogham can write, I think
I'd rather eat one of his novels than read one. Filmed while Elvis was
hiding out from the FBI, most of the scenes are shot in a trailer just
outside of Donkey Guts, Maine, where Elvis had been working as a mattress
tester. He gives a truly wonderful and award worthy performance as the
magically enchanted fluffy bunny, even though it appears that Elvis himself
was unaware that he was actually being filmed for this movie. But other
than that this movie is only slightly more enjoyable than a trip to the
Japanese War Atrocity Theme Park. The first movie in a six part film series
based on the horrifying adventures of Mr. Bunny, this was the only film
to actually get made. We should be thankful for such small favors. I can’t
really tell you what happened in this picture, as I think I blacked out
a few times and missed something. But I can tell you that at one point
Mr. Bunny tries to bring happiness into the Land of the Lost and winds
up eating Chaka with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. Oh and Mr. Bunny
and Barney the Purple Dinosaur, apparently shunned by all the real dinosaurs
because he’s the prehistoric equivalent of Richard Simmons, team up to
beat the stuffings out of some Sleestacks who happen to want some shiny
crystal that Mr. Bunny has coveted for his personal stash. There's hardly
a semblance of an actual plotline here, so I won't dwell on it much. But
at least this movie was better than anything Mark Walhberg has starred
in.
 Peeping
Tad
This is the first
and only movie every starring Big Tad, our burly mute bodyguard here at
Wacky Advice. And that’s probably a good thing too as not only is Tad really
mute but the dialog here is so steeped in stupidity one would think they
were watching an episode of Nash Bridges. Nope Tad doesn’t have one word
of dialog in this movie, rated X because of its extreme use of camera shots
depicting savory butter melting on pancakes and decadent chocolate waffles.
The picture is about Tad, who plays Tad, a doorman at the International
House of Pancakes, who one day witnesses a murder involving sticks of butter
and frozen waffles. In order to hide himself from this brutal frozen waffle
killer, Tad takes to the road, going from IHOP to IHOP, and eating tons
of buttery pancakes. Man, I thought I ate a lot of pancakes until I saw
Tad wolfing down about a dozen short stacks and drinking syrup by the quart.
I don’t know where this guy puts it all, but boy he’s a pancake-eating
machine! Anyway, Tad also has taken up the habit of spying on Flester Skibblewicks,
a geriatric maple syrup farmer who may or may not be the reincarnation
of Aunt Jemima. For some reason it appears that Tad thinks Flester is the
key to all this, even though she smells like goat cheese, has a huge goiter,
and carries her kidney stones in a glass jar. Sure, that’s scary enough,
but I don’t see how a senile old battle axe like Flester could even have
a clue about waffles let alone how to assault someone with them. Flester
is just a withered old cough drop in this movie, where she chews the scenery
and thinks ‘acting’ should consist of her spitting her dentures out at
the camera. It’s like she’s filming one of those Cher infomercials on local
cable. At this point I want to point out how much we love Big Tad here
at Wacky Advice. He’s great. And he’s got a really snarly diamond pinky
ring just to die for. But it really should be noted that he isn’t an actor.
Brought to us by Dobist Ogglebot, a mangy Canadian badger who once held
a seat in parliament, this movie drags on about 50 minutes longer than
it should – a feat considering this ‘suspense film’ is only 53 minutes.
Honestly, I've experienced more suspense waiting for the bus. There are
endless shots of Tad driving from IHOP to IHOP – which wouldn’t be so bad
if they weren’t filmed in slow motion. But I can’t really be too upset
with Ogglebot – he is just a mangy badger after all. Of note: check out
the brief cameo appearance by Bud Ugly as a caramelized onion.
 Monkey
No Like
This magnificent,
fabulous and extra funky fresh movie is written and directed by Professors
Bobo and Peanut, mad scientists and refugees from the Planet of the Apes.
In this movie, one of the few that I actually play more than just a supporting
role, I portray Tootles MicMac, a lab monkey turned trained assassin. Trained
by frenzied mad scientist Quahog Dussledoff, to help her take over the
world (do all mad scientists want to take over the world? Aren’t there
any mad scientists who want world peace? What gives?), I and 25 other cute
fluffy monkeys are sent out into the general populous to give humanity
the spanking it deserves. But as luck would have it MicMac stumbles upon
that gloriously hammy side of beef known as William Shatner. A whirlwind
romance ensues. Suddenly MicMac would rather hang out by the pool drinking
boysenberry and pineapple daiquiris and stuffing herself with Kripsy Kremes.
This doesn’t sit well with her former suitor, Sponge, a giant ape prone
to climbing large buildings and wrestling oversize lizards. No matter as
the global domination by primates continues unabated. The resulting battle
between monkey and human cumulates into a massive food fight where the
smaller primates have ingenious uses for such things as canned SPAM, rice
cakes and hamdingers. Blood runs through the streets like pea soup. There
is more food flying here than at Sally Struther’s house at feeding time.
Oh no! Which side will MicMac choose to fight on? Can Sponge win MicMac’s
monkey heart or will it stay forever glued to Shatner’s puffy carcass?
Will Bill Shatner’s overacting cause a colossal rift in the space-time
continuum to open up and swallow the galaxy whole? Who invented these delectably
yummy daiquiris anyway? A fine performance by Quahog as a narcoleptic mad
scientist with Tourette's syndrome: she gives the film some depth into
the insanity that is this hostile, and messy, world domination plot. With
guest stars such as Lancelot Link (Secret Chimp), Bongo, Dr. Zaius, Curious
George and Peter Tork, this movie is sure to hit on some raw nerves in
the primate community. Even Koko the gorilla makes an appearance to stomp
out the human dominance and lands her big hairy ape foot into Charlton
Heston’s hinder. Take that up the mountain, Moses! Yeah! Monkey No Like
is the Simian feel good movie of the year, with outstanding direction by
some spider monkeys and a few gibbons, hired out from Jigglesnap’s Petting
Zoo. Filmed in Surround Sound, the musical score is composed entirely of
screeching marmosets. Ah now that’s beautiful, isn’t it?
 Moby's
Ghosts
Moby? If you're
looking for outstanding acting coming from that vegan freakshow known as
Moby's, you're not likely to find it here. For most of his scenes Moby
appears to be either sleeping or in some kind of coma. He never utters
a word on camera and one wonders if Moby is little more than a fleshy mannequin
in Pokeman sneakers. As for a plot, well you'd have better luck finding
ice cubes in Death Valley. The gist of the picture is this: Moby wakes
one day to find that he is haunted by 3 cross-dressing ghosts who want
to steal Moby's Beanie Baby collection and eat all his vegan ice cream.
This doesn't sit well with Moby but I can't tell what it is he's trying
to do to rid himself of these pesky specters. The music here is set on
'jackhammer on concrete pavement' decimal, which is actually a good thing
as it drowns out such inane dialog as: "I think I'm going to get me some
coleslaw and hush puppies" or "I'd blame my hair but I have none".
Moby sleeps in his Powerpuff Girl PJs while a narrator drones on about
vengeful ghosts and the allure of Beanie Babies. I tell you anytime you
have to have a narrator tell you what's going on in a film that you're
currently watching you're in serious trouble. I kept waiting for something
to actually happen in this picture but all we get from writer/director
Vump Tasslebee are endless shots of telephones and vinyl records all shot
in monochromatic color from the vantage point of a golden retriever. Heck
if Tasslebee had in fact filmed a golden retriever in this movie, I would
have been happy, but all I get is endless scenes of Moby in his slippers
padding around a room or sleeping on the Easy Boy while the TV blares I
Loved Lucy To Death. Eventually, the only satisfaction I gained from this
film was after it had ended and I could turn off the VCR. I was finally
free to hurl popcorn balls at senior citizens again, and do all those other
annoying things that fill my life with such sweet joy.
|
The
5th
Annual
