When
some alleged, crusty, geniuses from outer
space can't get the SP/SLP right on the
voice messages they send, this triggers an
ugly intergalactic incident where lots of
stuff goes boom. And as the Earth is
nearly conquered by aliens with no elbows
or knees -- therefore, after further
deduction, no opposable thumbs, either --
who fly saucers with wobbly trajectories
that are, judging by the racket they make,
having some alternator-belt problems, square-jawed
Hugh Marlowe steps into the breach. And
with his help, the army devises a sound
weapon that really throws a rod into the
saucers inner-workings, causing them to
compulsively crash into famous historical
landmarks, making the world once again
safe for democracy. Hooray!
This
film was obviously highlighted by the
special-effects wizardry of Ray
Harryhausen. And the blustery bravado of
the military draws a lot of laughs from
the audience for their Shoot First /
Ask Questions Later philosophy; as
does the running tally/scoreboard as
someone keeps track of the score between
us and them. And according to it, I have
no idea how we won. But who cares.
U.S.A.!
U.S.A.! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!
Final
Score:
Earth
Flying
Saucers
Famous
Washington DC Landmarks
6
261210
0
The
Apple
(Hey
Look! A Vampire.)
Watch
and boggle as two young singers are tempted by fortune
and fame by the friggin' obviously gay duo
and a guy who was trying way too hard to
be Marjoe Gortner. The boy refuses, but
the girl gladly signs on the dotted line
... Ah, but fame and fortune aren't all
it's cracked up to be once the price is
realized: Having to wear ridiculous
outfits and spontaneously combust into
spastic song and dance as disco breathed
its last, dying gasp. All of this, of
course, is a LESS THAN SUBTLE biblical
allegory about conformity and temptation,
and hippies, and grabbing elderly yentas
by their boobies. Then Moses shows up in a
flying, solid gold Bentley and takes the
good people away, I assume, to wander
around the desert for forty years.
Gah.
This infamous Golan-n-Globus glamrock
craptacular went over amazingly well. I
tried to warn everyone before the film
started what they were in for, but when it
began, I was obviously in the minority --
especially when someone started passing
out lyric sheets for the musical numbers.
The only explanation I can give is that
when I watched it by myself, after the
250th mental "You have got to be
f&#@ing kidding me" my "You
have got to be f@%*ing kidding me"
gland broke. Here, just take a look:
Everyone
assumed I hated the film. That's not quite
true; it was just so friggin'
incomprehensible and indescribable ya'll
feared the worst when I couldn't find the
words to explain it properly, aside from banging my head on
something(-- in this case, an
empty Diet Dew bottle). This is not
a film to watch alone. This film must be
viewed with at least fifty people to truly
appreciate the epic magnitude of its
extreme wonkiness.
Final
Score:
Golan
& Globus
Me
Dented
Diet Dew Bottles
1
0
2
Mystery
Short:
(Masculine
or Feminine: Your Role in Society)
Very
earth-toned actors and actresses pose as
VOX Pops about the stereotypical
behavior of men and women, and the
resistance against changing them.
Do
you think someone should tell them that
fighting stereotypes with stereotypes is
counter-productive? Nah. The only
thing this short teaches me is that come
the nuclear apocalypse, the only thing
that will survive are cockroaches,
Twinkies, and those lacquered-up
bee-hive hairdos.
Final
Score:
Masculine
Feminine
Very
Brave Fashion Statements
0
0
2
The
Swarm
(Bee
Wary of Killer Bee Puns)
As
a swarm of angry killer bees lay waste to
the mountain regions of East Texas [?],
with only Michael Caine, Katherine Ross,
Henry Fonda and Richard "I don't need
this crap" Widmark standing between
them and Houston, between you and me, I
think the Lone Star State is doomed. And
since there isn't a trash can big enough
to cover the city, Widmark unleashes his
scorched earth tactics. The results are,
well, inconclusive.
Once
again, a precocious brat exponentially
aggravates an already deadly situation
into chaos, resulting in the deaths of
hundreds of thousands, but suffers no
repercussions for his actions. Feh. Beyond
that, we got slow motion bee
attacks, obligatory geriatric romantic
triangles, and a steadily rising body
count as we barrel toward the climax,
where Irwin Allen not only rips off The
Killer Shrews, but Beginning of the
End. I'm still haunted by the tiny
little killer bee that lives in Mr.
Caine's left eye, and if they were so
worried about the environment, Why did
they dump all that napalm into the ocean? Wow.
Hoo-kay
... That was fantastic. Whether it was
Hec's re-enactment of Henry Fonda's death
scene, Josh's pantomime of the slow-motion
train wreck by rolling down the stairs, or
Mike and Matt's steady stream of really
obnoxious "Bee" puns that got
Matt hit with Doc Freex's cane thrice by
him and once by me, or Ray's rubber
chicken roast during the final
conflagration, convinces me that they
really, really need to show Earthquake
at B-Fest '06.
Final
Score:
Killer
Bees
Texas
Lumps
on Matt's Head
2000006
0
4
The
Raffle Break
Skunked
again. Off by one number. Again.
Wait 'til next year. Again!
The
Wizard of Speed and Time
(Stomp.
Stomp. Stomp.)
I
dove back into my aisle to clear the
steps, making way for the Hottentots as
they stormed the stage to merrily stomp
along with this merry short about a man
who can run at supersonic speed, dancing
camera tripods, and a ravenous clapboard
that tries to devour everything in sight
that grows more and more bizarre every
time I see it.
I've
debated whether to drag my fat-butt on
stage to truly experience the Wizard, but
I'd probably get someone killed. Nice to
see the 'Lemur in costume again, too.
There was a slight glitch with the sound
that kind of diffused the short's normal
chaotic momentum, but it had fully
recovered by the time they reran it upside
down and backwards...
Final
Score:
The
Wizard
Banana
Peels
0
1
Time
and Speed of Wizard The
.Pmots
.Pmots .Pmots
...Backwards
and down upside it ranre they time the
by recovered fully had it but momentum
normal shorts the diffused of kind that
sound with glitch a was there. Too,
again costume in 'Lemur the see to nice.
Killed someone get probably I'd but
Wizard the experience truly to stage on
butt fat my drag to whether debated
I've.
It
see time every bizarre more grows that
sight in everything devour to try that
clapboard ravenous a and tripods camera
dancing, speed supersonic at run can who
man a: short merry this with along stomp
merrily to stage the storm they as
Hottentots the for way making, steps the
clear to aisle my into back dive I.
Erocs
Lanif:
Sleep
Ananab
Draziw
Eht
0
1
Plan
Nine from Outer Space
(Makes
Ya Wonder How the First Eight Went
Wrong.)
Oh,
like you don't know what this one is
about. And I think we can all
agree, though, that if there is a worst
film ever made -- it isn't Plan 9.
Time
for the annual midnight showing of this Ed
Wood anti-classic. I know everybody
usually vacates the theater for a little
socializing during this thing, and every
year I try to join them, but something
keeps sucking me back into the theater,
like some kind of collapsing gravity well,
to join in on the yelling and paper plate
chucking. Matt, Mike and I even try to
start a new tradition by yelling out "Idiot!"
whenever Paul Marco is on screen. And has
anyone else noticed that inside Eros and
Tana's ship that it's daytime out one
portal, and nighttime out the other two?
Final
Score:
Bela
Not
Bela
Tor
16
16
23
After
Midnight
(8
Hours 'til Dawn...)
Wohoo!
At this point, I'd been up for 52 of the
last 60 hours of my life, but I'm holding
up pretty good. It's amazing what a steady
diet of Twinkies, Slim Jims, Pringles and
assorted carbonated drinks can do to your
mental state -- not to mention your
digestive tract. Morgan Spurlock ain't
got @#%*ing nothing on me!
Plus,
with The Apple
already in the rearview mirror, the rest
of this ordeal is gonna be gravy. Sweet,
sweet gravy ... I just hope it's the white
gravy, though. Because the brown gravy
will give you a bad case of Montezuma's
Revenge -- if you know what I mean.
Knuckled-out
by Chad Plambeck: misspeller of words,
butcher of all things grammatical, and
king of the run on sentence. Copy
and paste at your own legal risk.
Questions? Comments? Shoot us an
e-mail.
When
some alleged, crusty, geniuses from outer
space can't get the SP/SLP right on the
voice messages they send, this triggers an
ugly intergalactic incident where lots of
stuff goes boom. And as the Earth is
nearly conquered by aliens with no elbows
or knees -- therefore, after further
deduction, no opposable thumbs, either --
who fly saucers with wobbly trajectories
that are, judging by the racket they make,
having some alternator-belt problems, square-jawed
Hugh Marlowe steps into the breach. And
with his help, the army devises a sound
weapon that really throws a rod into the
saucers inner-workings, causing them to
compulsively crash into famous historical
landmarks, making the world once again
safe for democracy. Hooray!
Watch
and boggle as two young singers are tempted by fortune
and fame by the friggin' obviously gay duo
and a guy who was trying way too hard to
be Marjoe Gortner. The boy refuses, but
the girl gladly signs on the dotted line
... Ah, but fame and fortune aren't all
it's cracked up to be once the price is
realized: Having to wear ridiculous
outfits and spontaneously combust into
spastic song and dance as disco breathed
its last, dying gasp. All of this, of
course, is a LESS THAN SUBTLE biblical
allegory about conformity and temptation,
and hippies, and grabbing elderly yentas
by their boobies. Then Moses shows up in a
flying, solid gold Bentley and takes the
good people away, I assume, to wander
around the desert for forty years.
Very
earth-toned actors and actresses pose as
VOX Pops about the stereotypical
behavior of men and women, and the
resistance against changing them.
As
a swarm of angry killer bees lay waste to
the mountain regions of East Texas [?],
with only Michael Caine, Katherine Ross,
Henry Fonda and Richard "I don't need
this crap" Widmark standing between
them and Houston, between you and me, I
think the Lone Star State is doomed. And
since there isn't a trash can big enough
to cover the city, Widmark unleashes his
scorched earth tactics. The results are,
well, inconclusive. 
I
dove back into my aisle to clear the
steps, making way for the Hottentots as
they stormed the stage to merrily stomp
along with this merry short about a man
who can run at supersonic speed, dancing
camera tripods, and a ravenous clapboard
that tries to devour everything in sight
that grows more and more bizarre every
time I see it.
...Backwards
and down upside it ranre they time the
by recovered fully had it but momentum
normal shorts the diffused of kind that
sound with glitch a was there. Too,
again costume in 'Lemur the see to nice.
Killed someone get probably I'd but
Wizard the experience truly to stage on
butt fat my drag to whether debated
I've.
Oh,
like you don't know what this one is
about. And I think we can all
agree, though, that if there is a worst
film ever made -- it isn't Plan 9.
