Monster High (1989)

How bad is Monster High? This bad:
1) Even if I hate you, I hope you never have to see it.
2) It should bear the credit “written and directed by Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer.”
3) I’d rather not watch anything for 84 minutes than sit through it again.

The list could go on and on, but let’s get down to business: Two aliens named Dume and Glume — ha, get it? — steal a wooden box containing a doomsday device. After it lands on Earth on the grounds of Montgomery Sterling High School, whereupon it kills a dog, the box is then stolen by one Mr. Armageddon.

Then lots of weird things appear in the school halls: head-smothering condoms, neck-strangling plants,a preppy zombie, a horny gargoyle, a mummy, a creature in red sneakers. It ends with the students squaring off against Mr. Armageddon at a climactic basketball match. Apparently, this plot is so complex that every scene requires narration.

The jokes — I apologize to the word “jokes” — are so insipid, that I also should apologize to the word “insipid.” An example: Dume and Glume rap! About penises and vaginas! Sample lyric: “You got your fimbriae / And your scrotum sac / And if your hymen is gone / It ain’t coming back.” Yes, Monster High has all the subtlety of a Three Stooges short. (Sorry, Moe, Larry and Curly.)

Apparently, all of the brainpower went into crafting names for the characters: Norm Median, Candice Caine, Mel Anoma, Miss Anne Thrope, Coach Otto Parts. The movie has exactly one thing going for it: boobs. Lots of large, naked breasts appear, and they’re from the era where they were real, rather than purchased on layaway. However, all the nude women are unseen from the neck up, as if they didn’t want anyone to know their identity. Smart move, ladies. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

The Spider Labyrinth (1988)

Professor Alan Whitmore doesn’t like spiders. We know this because through the entirety of Italy’s The Spider Labyrinth, first-time director Gianfranco Giagni keeps flashing back to a childhood incident in which Whitmore (a mamby-pamby Roland Wybenga) was locked in a closet with one big mofo of a creepy crawler.

What’s this have to do with anything? Eh, not much. But the Dallas academian is hired by a secretive institution to travel to Budapest, re-establish contact with an AWOL professor named Roth, and bring back all the research the old man has collected. When Whitmore meets Roth, he finds the guy visibly frightened and threatened … and later strung up dead by a web.

Despite this and numerous other warnings to get out of the town before it traps him, Whitmore sticks around. I’m guessing part of this is because Roth’s assistant, Genevieve (Paola Rinaldi), likes to undress in front of an open window. That may give you reason to stick around, too, as will the string of strange murders and increasingly bizarre proceedings that, at the very end, jump from aping the stylistic methods of Dario Argento to David Cronenberg.

The Spider Labyrinth must qualify as a giallo simply for having so many of its elements in place: black cat, black gloves, surreal settings, lurid voyeurism, colored gels, bad dubbing, crap that makes no sense, etc. Wonderfully wacky, this one, full of stop-motion spiders and one insane ending that’ll have you saying, “Now that’s Italian!” It’s kind of like Arachnophobia meets … oh, a craft services table with three kinds of tortellini. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

The Patriot (1986)

There’s a reason well-known character actor Gregg Henry (Body Double, Payback, Slither) has spent the majority of his career playing a succession of creeps, criminals, douchebags and assholes: He’s really, really good at it.

This explains why the strange attempt to turn him into a standard-issue action hero in The Patriot is the only remotely novel aspect of a film that could otherwise be described as what would happen if someone tried to make an Andy Sidaris movie without any of the good parts (insert de rigueur boob joke here).

It casts Henry as a former Navy SEAL who was dishonorably discharged from ’Nam when he refused to take part in a pointless raid on a defenseless village, but who gets a chance to restore his good name when the death of a friend alerts him to a (poorly thought-out and rather nonsensical) conspiracy to smuggle stolen nukes out of the country through oil pipelines.

That synopsis is far more coherent than the actual movie, which lacks the kind of urgency you’d expect from an action thriller about potential Armageddon. All of this can be blamed on its nonexistent budget, atrocious editing and a script (co-written by former B-movie vixen and future Poison Ivy director Katt Shea Rubin) that must have been a lot harder to type than write.

The Patriot is so low-rent, it doesn’t even rise to the level of the cheap, Cannon-produced actioners that obviously inspired it. A direct-to-video effort made before the concept of direct-to-video actually existed, it’s a deservedly forgotten effort that even the biggest Henry fan shouldn’t feel compelled to discover. —Allan Mott

Buy it at Amazon.

Exit Wounds (2001)

From the same creative team that brought you Romeo Must Die and Cradle 2 the Grave comes Exit Wounds, an enjoyable piece of trash that has to be Steven Seagal’s best movie since Under Siege except for that one on the plane where he died in the first 20 minutes.

Now markedly puffy and with out-of-control sideburns, Seagal is a Detroit police officer reassigned to a lesser precinct after saving the life of the U.S. vice president, but embarrassing him in the process. The cops there don’t like him sticking his ever-curious and pudgy nose into their business, especially when he learns they’re dirty and deep into a heroin ring with Internet gazillionaire DMX. Thus begins a barrage of super-slick car chases and gunfights, with lots of requisite slow-motion martial arts and surprising gory violence.

Director Andrzej Bartkowiak certainly has an unapologetically commercial style that’s high on gloss and short on everything else, but there’s something about it I like. Although it’s far from brilliant, it’s also far from incompetent. I’m just not sure why every movie he does has to star DMX and Anthony Anderson (a little of whose ad-libbed shtick goes a long way). Also starring in this outing are Tom Arnold (some of whose scenes with Seagal seem filmed without Seagal even there), Isaiah Washington and, all too briefly, Eva Mendes. —Rod Lott

Buy it at Amazon.

Random Genre & Cult Movie Reviews