Contamination’s opening credits have the balls to claim it’s “based on an original story by Lewis Coates.” It should read, “based on an original story by Dan O’Bannon and Ronald Shusett,” because what writer/director Lewis Coates (aka Italy’s Luigi Cozzi, the man who gave us Starcrash, the Star Wars rip-off that’s more fun than Star Wars) came up with clearly wouldn’t exist without Ridley Scott’s Alien. In fact, Cozzi wanted to call it Alien Arrives on Earth.

Mind you, I’m not complaining. Cozzi took Alien’s elements of the outer-space eggs and stomach bursting, and ran with them. When you have an effect as cool as an exploding gut, why use it only once? Why not a dozen times? You certainly get your money’s worth. Just ignore the stupid ending.

The intestinal problems start in New York City, when a ghost ship from the tropics wanders into port without a crew — alive, anyway. The conditions the investigating authorities find the seamen in will put you off deli meats for the day. And in boxes bearing a coffee company’s logo are slimy, green eggs that pulsate. Posits one investigator, “It could be somethin’ like a giant squash or an avocado or some kind of mango!”

Despite the decrepit-flesh buffet they’ve just witnessed, another investigator thinks it best to pick the egg up. Let the tummy troubles begin! Who cares if the actors suddenly look pregnant before their midsection blows? Cozzi had the good sense to shoot them all in slo-mo. The eggs even emit a pre-kablooey sound, like sea lions orgasming. Speaking of sound, the great Goblin provides the synth-tastic soundtrack, which is good considering how slowly the film’s final third moves. —Rod Lott

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