Normally, I try to snark over these things, but I’ve just seen this trailer. I’ll just be over here in the corner until the stun wears off. I just…I…yeah.
No, you’re not still drunk from your celebrations the night before (I hope). Those really are killer slugs you’re seeing. Well, fake killer slugs. Painfully, painfully fake killer slugs.
We’ve had a little break, some time away from awful movies, but this Wednesday we’re back. Hulu took our planned choice away from us, so we’re going with a classic. What more could you want than Lon Chaney Jr. without the monster makeup in Indestructible Man? What? A plot? Editing? Believable conflict? Don’t be silly.
This Wednesday, on November 6, it’s time for Psycho-Rama! No, that’s not the name of the film. The film is titled either My World Dies Screaming or Terror in the Haunted House, depending on your mood. Psycho-Rama…er, “Mind-Altering Psycho-Rama” is the hyphen-laden name for the use of subliminal images in the film. Watch to find out whether it’s still better than modern 3D.
This one is free on YouTube.
After that, you’ll notice that we have nothing scheduled. Watching bad movies every two weeks has gotten to be a bit much for me. I think the same is true for several of our usual crew, as the mocking has dropped off. So it’s time to at least skip a session. We want to decide how frequently these should go on and what kind of schedule works. Look for the next mocking in early December.
“These all sound awful!” I hear you cry. Yes. Yes, they do. “These must be mocked mercilessly”, you say. Well, then you’re in the right company. The instructions for playing along:
If you have suggestions for other movies that can and should be mocked, send them to @MockTM. Preference will be given to movies that are free or stream on the major media delivery services. Watch the feed, and we’ll set up the calendar for more terrible, mockable movies.
If you’ve missed a mocking, you can catch transcripts and even subtitle files for later watching on the Mock the Movie archive.
This Wednesday, October 23, we’ll be turning to that extra-special genre: atheist recruited to fight Satan. That’s right, as absolutely terrible as reviews of The Cloth are, we’re going to subject ourselves to it. Maybe a trailer will help?
This Wednesday, October 9, we’re presenting I Love the 80s without the punchlines. Er, I mean Miami Connection, in which a martial arts rock band (I don’t know either) pits their skills against Miami’s drug traders, who happen to be ninjas riding motorcycles.
Attempting to distract myself from how I’m feeling, I was reading a bit of Ambrose Bierce, when I came across this very short essay. It resonated for me with the talk recently in some quarters about “good people”, so I thought I’d share.
Why is he? Why defaces he the fair page of creation, and why is he to be continued? This has never been explained; it is one of those dispensations of Providence the design whereof is wrapped in profoundest obscurity. The good young man is perhaps not without excuse for his existence, but society is without excuse for permitting it. At his time of life to be “good” is to insult humanity. Goodness is proper to the aged; it is their sole glory; why should this milky stripling bring it into disrepute? Why should he be permitted to defile with the fat of his sleek locks a crown intended to adorn the grizzled pow of his elders?
A young man may be manly, gentle, honourable, noble, tender and true, and nobody will ever think of calling him a good young man. Your good young man is commonly a sneak, and is very nearly allied to that other social pest, the “nice young lady.” As applied to the immature male of our kind, the adjective “good” seems to have been perverted from its original and ordinary signification, and to have acquired a dyslogistic one. It is a term of reproach, and means, as nearly as may be, “characterless.” That any one should submit to have it applied to him is proof of the essential cowardice of Virtue.
We believe the direst ill afflicting civilization is the good young man. The next direst is his natural and appointed mate, the nice young lady. If the two might be tied neck and heels together and flung into the sea, the land would be the fatter for it.
I’m not as cynical as Bierce, nor do I find a lot of use in distinguishing between genders this way, but there’s a certain truth to that middle paragraph.