There are two things the Aussies do better than anyone else: deep-frying an entire onion and, perhaps a bit healthier, post-apocalyptic vehicular manslaughter. And while they might not come with a spicy dipping sauce, these futuristic glimpses at highway hellfire have changed an entire subgenre of film for almost four decades now.

For those still riding on the chrome-huffing high of Mad Max: Fury Road, here’s the turbo-charged living dead spin on the end of the world, Wyrmwood. Too bad that after a hi-octane, bang-up intro, the thing just sputters and fizzles out like the cheap lemon it is.

What we got here is a trio of diverse pals, clad in sporting gear and desperately trying to survive the zombie apocalypse, as you do. The plague that has created the walking dead, however, has also managed to nonsensically render all fuel useless. Meanwhile, across town, a mad doctor is experimenting on the reanimated corpses, as well as the few random living survivors, including the sister of one of the aforementioned three amigos.

In a real unique turn of events, not only is said sister turned into a half-living, half-dead being, but one that has complete mental control over all the shambling decayers in her immediate area. And, if that weren’t a big enough twist, turns out that zombies can now be used for fuel, which provides some great comedic relief, but does little to move forward an already convoluted tale.

Wyrmwood: Road of the Dead is paved with good intentions, but, in the process of trying to be so original, director Kiah Roache-Turner forgot the most important element: a living, breathing plot to back all of this creativity up. Still, it’s got enough cool-looking set pieces and thoughtful action sequences that any viewer low on juice will be entertained enough to keep their foot off the breaks and finger off the fast-forward. —Louis Fowler

Get it at Amazon.

In the 1970s, movies about paranormal and/or cryptozoological phenomena were all the rage, from Chariots of the Gods to The Legend of Boggy Creek. Boy, did they keep Leonard Nimoy and Peter Graves’ electricity running.

Not as prestigious is Blood Beast of Monster Mountain, produced by adult-film theater owner (and, if one believes the onscreen credits, world traveler, lecturer and psychic investigator) Donn Davison. Basically, Donny inserted hilarious pseudo-documentary footage about Bigfoot into the even more hilarious 1965 family film The Legend of Blood Mountain, which has next to nothing to do with Bigfoot.

After opening with a country song about Bigfoot, Donn tells us that for years he has told producers “no” to taking part in a Sasquatch picture, but changed his mind when the director promised to make “a lighthearted movie, while still adhering to the facts.” Enter the original film, which opens with a hunter tripping about and screaming, ending up with blood all over his face.

So far, so good, right? Well, you haven’t met the film’s “hero,” Bestoink Dooley (Moonrunners’ George Ellis), a newspaper copy boy who dresses like a vaudevillian Sam Kinison and looks like Buddy Hackett after a night of lovemaking with Otis, the drunk from The Andy Griffith Show. As he begs his editor for the Blood Mountain story, a guy who looks like Moe Bandy hits something in his truck, but this is never followed up, because it immediately cuts to Bestoink’s dream — a bizarre sequence about him being a good reporter and making his editor look like a doofus, as if a guy named Bestoink could do that.

After that, things get really confusing, as scenes constantly switch from day to night, women walk through in bikinis for no reason, and Bestoink get his hands on a flamethrower. Bestoink is the most appalling human being I’ve even seen in a movie (and that includes everything with James Spader); furthermore, Blood Beast of Monster Mountain is shot with a technical expertise that would even have Eegah director Arch Hall Sr. shake his head and say, “Geez, that was shitty.”

Overall, a most entertaining hour-and-a-half. —Louis Fowler