planet suitcase.

A collection of hi-fi sci-fi sounds for high flying space cadets.

yor blimey!

Going all post-Coronavirus crisis today with a quick glimpse at what the world may look like come Christmas.

Except for readers in the West Midlands obviously as this is exactly what it's like right now.

Shittest band name ever.

Yor - The Hunter Of The Future (AKA Yor, The World of Yor, 1983)
Dir: Antonio Margheriti (As Anthony M. Dawson).
Cast: Reb Brown, Corinne Clery, Luciano Pigozzi, Carole André, John Steiner, Marina Rocchi, Sergio Nicolai Ayshe Gul and the legendary Aytekin Akkaya.

Kalaa: Why is Yor different from other men?

In a post-apocalyptic world where dinosaurs rule and bit part Italian actors roam the woods behind the local primary school clad in nothing but flea bitten loincloths comes the mighty warrior Yor (ex pro-footballer, Captain America and deputy sheriff Brown) - oiled, toned and muscled yet with the running prowess of a small girl.

He looks good in furry pants tho'.

Somewhere in the bushes Kalaa and Pag (ex Bond babe Clery and the tramp like Pigozzi) are busy hunting a vaguely embarrassed piglet with wooden horns stuck to its head.

Kinda like a normal day in hunting for loo roll in the supermarket at the moment really.

Except for the bit where a giant Cardboardasaurus crashes thru' the trees and tries to bite them that is.

Kalaa is frozen with fear and Pag can only scream and wobble his manbreasts as the beast lurches towards them.

Luckily Yor - on the way back from stocking up on bread and multipacks of pasta - comes bounding to the rescue, beating the dinosaur around the head with a big stone axe till it falls over.

Phew.

"Yor going home in a St. Johns ambulance!"

As a way of saying thank you - and desperate for company after years of self-isolation - the dull duo invite Yor back to their village for a big party and not having anything else planned he accepts.

Enjoying an evening of mead and bacon (and with the chance of a shag from Kalaa who appears to be the only non-bearded woman there) Yor is understandably upset when a gang of face painted ape men gatecrash the party and set fire to the village hall before tossing Yor off a nearby cliff and kidnapping Kalaa.

The Little Mix tribute band
was a wee bit disappointing.

In a bit of useful exposition it turns out that there are no ape women in the invaders tribe so every couple of weeks the scruffy monkey men attack the friendly village looking for posh totty to use as 'love slaves'.

As I said, exactly like the West Midlands.

Yor (who has climbed all the way back up the cliff) is adamant that if anyone is going to have their wicked way with Kalaa it's going to be him and to this end heads off towards the ape lair with Pag in tow.

Obviously he's hoping that if the worst comes to the worst Yor might at least be tempted by a wee suckle on his massive man tits.

I know I'd given it some serious thought.

Deciding to spend the night in the relative safety of a tree the duo are rudely awakened the next morning by a strange grunting noise coming from a nearby bush which the pair decide to investigate.

Popping their heads thru' a tired looking conifer the dynamic duo are met by the - somewhat arousing - sight of dozens of bikini clad ladies being oogled by the noisy band of cheeky (not to mention horny) monkeys.

"Laugh now!"

If that wasn't enough the evil leader of the apes, notorious decorative gardener and general bad boy Jeff Ukraan, is rubbing his hairy palms together and licking his lips whilst advancing on a cornered Kalaa.

There's only one course of action open to our hero - obviously - so after randomly killing a nearby giant bat then using the animals carcass to glide into the ape den Yor quickly releases Kalaa before smashing a nearby dike and flooding the camp.

Please note that he makes no attempt to rescue the other captives who obviously are either drowned or left to spend the rest of their lives having every one of their orifices violated by bananas.

What a guy.

Leaving the scene of carnage behind them Yor explains that he is trying to discover 'the secrets of his past' (and find out why all the other men look like lank haired bearded pikeys whilst he's tanned and blond) so must brave the dangerous desert to find the answers.

Kalaa decides to tag along (well, it's either that or sit on her own waiting for the dirty monkeys to turn up) and before long the stumble across a tribe sacrificing a nubile, pointy headed blonde on a bonfire.

Yor kills them all (it's kinda his M.O.) and rescues the lady who introduces herself as Roa (Gul), owner of a pound shop pendant not dissimilar to Yor's.

The main character, not yours obviously.

Unless you actually own one when it may well do.

Obviously not being able to see you I can't say.*

"Do the monkey with me!"

Kala, unhappy with another female joining the group decides to kill her love rival but her plan is interrupted when a rather wet Ukraan turns up looking for revenge.

A fight ensues (again) but Roa is struck down - tho' not with gout - before Yor can save her.

Which is good news for Kalaa.

"Hullo I'm superfluous, come sleep in mah bed".

Our terrific trio tut and shrug shoulders before continuing their journey into the desert and before long come across some folk being attacked by what looks like a large chicken with an umbrella stuck to its back.

Not having been involved in a fight for around ten minutes Yor kills the beast and gets invited to another party where yet another bikini clad lady fawns over him and wiggles her ample hips.

Understandably Kalaa is fairly pissed off at the fact that every woman on the planet wants a piece of Yor's prime ass but before she can attempt to kill this one the tribal chief arrives with information about Yor's origins.

It seems that every so often blond 'gods' wearing big medallions come to visit the villagers in flying boxes from a mysterious island hidden by a spooky dark fog.

Yor is convinced that the island holds the key to his identity so he steals a fishing boat to continue his quest, leaving the friendly visitors to be wiped out by the aforementioned flying boxes.

"Thanks for the pearl necklace!"  "Yor welcome!"

With Pag and Kalaa as his loyal crew, Yor quickly makes his way to the island only to lose control of the boat when a violent storm whips up from nowhere.

Yor is tossed overboard and washed up on a beach where he is almost immediately zapped by a guy in a leather jumpsuit and a gimp mask.

Kinky.

Don't fret tho', Kalaa and Pag are safe too.

They've been cast ashore further up the beach where they're accosted by a small group of cave dwelling tramps.

Put it in me!

Yor meanwhile has been grabbed by the Overlord (sounds painful) as is looking on in mild apathy as the movies plot is explained to him.

It turns out that the film is set on a future Earth (never) devastated by nuclear war where the majority of survivors have regressed to little more than savages.

A small group of scientists however tried to hold back the oncoming violent times by using space age technology and appointing an absolute leader (the aforementioned Overlord - the plywood like Steiner) who  - and with a name like that you can't be too surprised - built an army of gimp suited androids and kick out anyone who disagreed with him.

Yor's parents were among those yellow bellied cowards that ran away, preferring to take their chances with the papier mache dinosaurs on the mainland, which was a bad idea seeing as they were almost instantly eaten leaving our hero an orphan.

Before they died however they gave baby Yor a present, the big gold medallion he wears which in reality is a high tech recording device.

What for I don't know, why they never left him a note of how to work it.

Laughing (looking and possibly smelling) like an off season seaside town crossdresser on crack, Overlord announces that he has plans for Yor.....

"Juliet Bravo!"

Kalaa and Pag meanwhile are swapping niceties with the resistance movement who have told then much the same story, but adding the (fairly important) bit about Overlord planning to kill everyone else on the planet within the next hour or so.

They decide to attack Overlord's complex.

Whilst all this is going on. Overlord and his foxy assistant Ena (André) have strapped Yor to a dining table and started flashing really hot disco lights at him in an attempt to steal his DNA which, when mixed with Kalaa's will become the genetic building blocks for Overlords new android army.

Just as it appears that Yor can't possibly sweat any more the stinky tramps burst in and free our hero as a battle of epic proportions ensues.

Well I say epic.

"Are you looking at my bra?"

One particularly stinking tramp manages to reach Overlords control centre and de-active his leathery android hordes whilst Yor plants a bomb inside the bases nuclear reactor.

With only minutes to spare before detonation Yor stabs overlord with a huge barbers poll and hounds the heroic rebel band into a conveniently parked spaceship, escaping the island with seconds to spare as it explodes no doubt showering a still recovering planet and population in all manner of dangerous radiation.

As our merry band fly off to an uncertain future, spooky voice over guy tells us of how Yor will "use his new found knowledge of mankind's past to protect the future".

Which is nice.

"Yor the one that I want".

Originally made as a three hour SciFi epic for Italian Teevee, Antonio (I got to say I directed Andy Warhol's Dracula and Frankenstein but only for tax purposes) Margheriti’s fantasy classic is better known to fans of the fantastic in it's truncated movie form.

Luckily for connoisseurs of cinematic sewage even after losing almost two hours of it's original running time the films sheer awfulness shines thru'.

From it's ludicrous premise by way of the abysmal acting via trite dialogue, a distinct lack of a workable script and overall general shoddiness it's still top quality entertainment.

For proof look - and listen - no further  than Maurizio and Guido De Angelis's reused score - you may remember it from such blockbusters as 2019: After the Fall of New York, Raiders of Atlantis and Lightblast, the clever use of costumes left over from that other Corinne Clery SciFi masterwork The Humanoid - tho' it's more likely that she came free with the suits - plus not forgetting the star turn by the ultimate forgotten macho man that is Mr. Reb Brown.

Brown: Tight, athletic buttocks.

From his early work alongside soon to be Starbuck Dirk Benedict in the 1973 shocker Ssssss to his appearances as Captain America in two ill advised 1979 Teevee movies you can always count on Brown's frankly terrifyingly muscled arse to take your attentions away from any mistakes on screen.

And here he's ably (and amply) supported by Euro art/sleaze star Corinne Clery doing her best as the vacant eyed bubble permed heroine with the hots for Yor and Italian 'B' stalwart (and owner of the droopiest man breasts ever) Luciano Pigozzi (star of such top quality hits as Alien from the Deep and Double Target) who brings a Wilfrid Bramble like quality (and smell probably) to his role as cuddly uncle Pag.

Funnier than Margheriti's Cannibal Apocalypse - and with better special effects - plus a fluid style of its own that features nods to the 60's Batman series with it's high angle camera work, good old over choreographed 'slow fighting' Yor has an endearing kind of thrift shop feel that makes it a pain free enjoyable 90 minutes of cheesy entertainment if nothing else.

True it makes absolutely no sense at all but at least it's not too painful to watch.

Especially if like me you enjoy tight buttocks.

As a strange but true aside I'd just like to add that about eighteen years ago I came across a Dutch version of Yor in a local charity shop for a pound and eagerly snatched it up.

What can I say? I liked the cover illustration.

Rushing home to see how it held up dubbed I was surprised to find that someone had recorded over the last ten minutes with what looked like home video footage of a deserted public pool where a scantily clad, blindfolded woman sat strapped into a chair.

After viewing this strange (yet somewhat disturbing) scene for a few minutes a man appeared from stage left wearing nothing but a clown mask and holding a kitchen knife.

I'll be honest and say I didn't notice the knife to begin with because I was way to frightened by his massive, erect circumcised penis. 

I watch in horror (and mild jealousy) as he then proceeded to pinch the woman's nipples and play with her hair for a few minutes before moving slowly and menacingly toward her.

Then the screen cut to static.

I've always wondered if someone had accidentally recorded one of their home sex tapes at the end or if I'd stumbled across a scary snuff film, the killer desperate to recover the tape before his identity could be found.....

If you know (or are the person) that made this then feel free to get in touch.

Unless you are a mad mentalist murder obviously.

And if you are the mad murderer featured can I just point out that the VHS in question is now in the hands of Mr DissolvedPaul in Canada so hunt him down not me.

Cheers.






















*Actually that whole joke only works if you say it out loud. Sorry.

you ain't seen me, right?

After Trump's quote about the Coronavirus being 'an invisible enemy' I reckoned this was appropriate.

Tho' to be honest at this point I've kinda stopped caring.

Invisible Invaders (1959).
Dir: Edward L. Cahn.
Cast: John Agar, Jean Byron, Philip Tonge, Robert Hutton, John Carradine, Hal Torey Paul Langton, Eden Hartford, Don Kennedy and Chuck Niles.

Dear Lord, I pray that I am insane, that all that happened is only in my mind. I pray that tomorrow the sun will shine again on living things, not on a world where only the dead walk the Earth.

Welcome to the awfully atomic-obsessed 1950s where we join eminent science type Dr. Karol Noymann* (Carradine, covered in talc and wearing a tramps suit) just as he's killed in a huge explosion whilst trying to weaponise his farts to use against 'the Red Menace'.

Probably.

But the sudden death of this well respected and much-loved member of the science establishment shakes this close knit community to the core and prompts  his college Dr. Adam Penner (Tonge, father of Pete) to resign his position as chief weapons type bloke and call for changes to the governments atomic remit, hoping that the power will be used for good instead.

Obviously the military tell him to fuck off which he does, heading back home to ponder the fate of humanity whilst his scarily long-armed daughter Phyllis (TV stalwart Byron -  best known as Natalie Lane in The Patty Duke Show) gazes at him worriedly whilst making coffee.

The 2020 Corona epidemic in a nutshell.

Things soon take a change for the weird tho' when just after Noymann's funeral, an invisible alien takes over his dead body and - after digging its way out of the ground obviously -  visits Dr. Penner at home to inform him that humanity must surrender all its atomic weapons and prepare to be ruled by his fellow aliens, failure to comply will be met by an invading force that will possess the bodies of the dead, set fire to all the community centres, stockpile all the bog roll in Morrison's and kick the bins over.

As if to demonstrate their unearthly powers the alien makes what look like a jacketed spud wrapped in tinfoil appear from nowhere before vanishing into the night.

Obviously unnerved by this strange turn of events Penner nervously tells his daughter what happened before asking the eminent mustache expert Dr. John Lamont (balsa wood like B movie star Hutton, best known - God help him - for Torture Garden) to relay the alien's message to the US government.

It wont come as too much of a surprise when I say that the government ignores the warning whilst the fake news media accuse Penner of spreading some kind of anti-alien project fear.

Undeterred by this reaction Penner persuades Phyllis and Lamont to accompany him to Noymann's grave that very night in the hope of catching one of the aliens wandering about and bizarrely enough this actually works - the alien then helpfully explains everything again before shuffling off into the night.

Cue much stock footage of car and plane crashes as the aliens re-animated a variety of dead folk in order to infiltrate a couple of hockey games in order to announce their invasion plans to the world.

Oh and to also announce that they've just blown up Russia and Denmark.

Which is a unique way of doing it if nothing else.

"I love you....could it be magic?"

With every major sporting event interrupted by the undead threatening violence,  the governments of the world have no choice but to listen and as these evil aliens possess more and more dead bodies and begin to blow up even more random stuff - depending on what disaster footage comes to hand - Drs Penner and Lamont alongside the ever more worried Phyllis are whisked away to a top secret bunker by the heroically handsome Major Jay 'Kay' (Agar from The Mole People) in order to find a way to stop the invasion.

Cue 30 minutes of sweaty lipped science based shenanigans alongside an ill-conceived love triangle 'tween Phyllis, the hunky Jay and cowardly Lamont as our heroes race against time - and acceptable skirt lengths - to find something to counter the alien attack with that doesn't involve a drunken - and naked - game of ping-pong.

The amount of fucks I give about this film.

Whilst in contact with Washington DC - in the form of Grouch Marx ex-missis Eden Hartford in a way too tight air force uniform and the stoic Lt. Gen. Stone (slick-haired Langton from Peyton Place) - Penner deduces that the aliens are highly radioactive and can be tracked using a Geiger counter but still has no idea how to capture one before it can jump out of the dead body it possesses.

Jay suggests that he could lie in wait till the corpse trundles by and furiously masturbate over it, causing the alien to become trapped by the quick drying semen but Phyllis - wanting to keep all that joy juice for herself - has another idea so to this end the fantastic foursome fashion a fast-setting paint gun from a fire extinguisher an old bicycle pump.

But who will test this devastating piece of technology?

Not Lamont that's for sure as he's too busy hiding behind a cupboard whilst lustfully gazing at Phyllis and Penner is way too old to be of any use to anyone which leaves  Major Jay the unenviable task so, suited up in his best bee keepers outfit he heads outside in order to capture one of the invaders.

As in one of the invisible aliens, not an episode of the Quinn Martin/Larry Cohen TV show.**

Hiding behind a convenient rock Jay waits patiently till an alien possessed cadaver stumbles by before jumping out with a "Gotcha!" and firing the sticky liquid all over the startled spaceman.

Unfortunately he's not quick enough and the alien gives him a swift kick to the nads before wandering off leaving Jay battered but ready to fight on.

"Fiona! I'm from Dudley!"

Back at the bunker and with an ice pack clutched to his privates, Jay soon realises that rather than chasing the aliens about in the hope of bagging one, the easiest and quickest way to capture one of the creatures is to dig a big hole, fill it with the acrylic liquid and hope it just falls in.

Genius.

With the film lurching quickly toward it's climax this plan goes off without a hitch and soon our merry band have the alien confined to a handy pressure chamber ready to break it free from the rock solid acrylic in the hope of finding a weakness.

Alas nothing seems to work which frustrates an already edgy Dr. Lamont to a point where he breaks down in tears and tries to convince everyone to surrender to the alien oppressors but Jay in a rage filled Korean flashback slaps the sniveling scientist causing him to fall clumsily onto the bases radio set,  inadvertently damaging it to a point where the alarms go off.

It's at this point that they notice that the alien is rolling around on the floor clutching its ears and screaming.

No really.

"You'll never get your hands on me lucky charms!"

And with this new - and frankly unbelievable - information the gang frantically start to build a deadly sound gun in order to stop the invaders.

But the underground bunker has been discovered and an army of the undead are determined to break in....

Will Penner, Lamont, Phyllis and Jay complete the weapon in time?

Will Lamont start crying again?

Will we be subjected to any more real-life crash footage that although exciting at the time makes you feel a wee bit guilty when thinking about it later?

And will Eden Hartford ever face the camera?

From the pipe smoking former editor at large cum b-movie maestro Edward L Cahn comes this lo-fi sci-fi shocker that mixes the directors love of pulp science fiction thrills and undead menace - scarily 'tween 1955 and 1959 Cahn made  nine of these scifi shlockers - with a smidgen of atomic age action in a sweaty cauldron of cliched dialogue and ham acting that is as brainless as it is (fairly) entertaining.

Plus at 67 minutes it definitely doesn't outstay its welcome.

Unlike your Auntie Jean over Christmas.

Just because - Eden Hartford.

With its tiny cast of ne'er where's and almost rans, special effects that you'd be hard pushed to call effects let alone special and stoic sub-Plan 9 voice-over - that explains in painful detail almost everything occurring onscreen even as we see it - Invisible Invaders is at once an oddly charming yet instantly forgettable mash-up of the aforementioned Ed Wood classic and Robert Wise's The Day the Earth Stood Still as performed by a Methylphenidate soaked junior school drama class for an audience of gin-sodden scarecrows during a particularly offbeat care in the community awareness session that slowly drips into your very being with all the calming effects of a Pentobarbital shot to the eyes.


Seriously by the end of it I not only felt strangely calm and at peace but couldn't stand up and had shit myself.


Tho' that may just be my age.

God bless? - If there's any proof needed that he doesn't exist it's this movie.

Tho' as a plus point it's the only film I've ever seen where dialogue like this:

Phyllis: You killed a man in cold blood this morning, I keep seeing his face.

Jay: So do I, I fought all the way through Korea, probably killed a lot of men... but I never saw their faces. Dropping a bomb from a plane isn't quite so personal.

Penner: Can I make you some coffee?

is actually delivered convincingly.

Which probably says more about me than the movie.

And at the end of the day we can honestly say to all involved:***

Unlike Rian Johnson.

























*Or as the end credits actually list him "Carl Noymann" no idea if it's a continuity mistake or twins.

**Because it wasn't broadcast till 1967.

***Not really seeing as they're all dead but you know what I mean.

get to truck.

Just had a request to review this online which means that the whole Coronavirus thing has gotten so bad that people have started to actually read my blog.

I'll let that sink in for a minute.

Originally posted in tribute to Mr Airwolf himself - Jan-Michael Vincent - when he died (and in no way an attempt to rustle up some new readers) it seems from the blog stats that no fucker bothered to read it at the time so here we go again.

Damnation Alley (1977)
Dir: Jack Smight.
Cast:  Jan-Michael Vincent, George Peppard, Dominique Sanda, Paul Winfield, Kip Niven and Jackie Earle Haley.

"Bomb or no bomb, the lights never go out in Vegas!"

Welcome to the US Airforce's best kept secret, an ICBM base cunningly disguised as a collection of garden sheds some place in the sunny Mojave Desert where mustachioed military Major Eugene Denton (pity poor Peppard having to slum it to pay his wife's alimony) and his rebellious rookie sidekick Dan 'Elsie' Tanner (grizzled Airwolf star Michael Vincent) spend their days marching up and down corridors and looking intently at a series of randomly flashing lights whilst wearing fancy white cravats and Kwik-Fit overalls.

Paul and Barry Chuckle: The Nuremberg Years.

It's not all hard work tho' as they do get to occasionally hang out with Kev Keegan (Star Trek II's Winfield), the bases security chief cum artist whose obsession with painting Denton's wife (or is it Denton?) naked borders on the obscene.

But just when you think the movies going to take a turn into paint covered multiracial tit wanking territory Russia decides to start World War III and nuke America.

Arse.

Not wanting to spoil the habit of a lifetime when it comes to world wars our Yankee cousins wait a little bit (well until Albuquerque has been nuked) before joining in the fight and it's not long before the Earth dies screaming in a searing haze of disco lights, atomic test film and stock footage from The Guns of Navarone, all played out to an eerie electronic proto-jazz score courtesy of Jerry Goldsmith.

On crack.

Cue your friendly neighbourhood title cars to explain that as well as mutating scorpions and turning the sky into a giant laser light show, the combined nuclear explosions have also tilted the Earth off its axis.

Which is nice.

Luckily for the plot our heroes base is safe, enabling the few bold survivors to carry on doing all that military stuff for no apparent reason other than an almost psychotic obsession with finally making all the lights on the control panels flash in unison.

Except that is for Denton who spends his time tinkering away in the garage, assisted by the only slightly moustached Lt. KT Perry (teevee stalwart Niven) and the by now air force drop-outs Keegan, who's taken to shoddily painting tropical landscapes on the outside of his shed and Tanner who fills his day by wildly driving around the desert annoying the local giant scorpions.

It's a living I guess.

If not very exciting to watch.

"Fuck me! It's Fred Titmuss!"

It's a good job then that one of the airman, enjoying a post wank fag accidentally sets light to a jazz-mag which just happens to be resting against a pipe that says  "WARNING:FLAMMABLE GAS" in big letters down the side.

Massive explosions and more stock footage ensues leaving only our feebly fleshed out foursome standing.

Or in Jan Michael Vincent's case leaning drunkenly against a wall.

But fear ye not, for Denton and Perry have been building two pimped to fuck silver (I.E. futuristic) highly armed transit vans, christened Landmasters with the intention of driving to Albany where Denton is sure a group of survivors live.

This is probably more likely than it seems, I've been to Albany and I can assure you it's not even worth shitting on let alone wasting an atomic bomb on, even the birds fly past upside down.

So our heroes, like a gaggle of sci-fi pikeys set out across the radioactive desert in the vain hope of finding the last remnants of humanity.

Or at the very least a field to park in.

"Wanna buy some pegs Dave?"

Almost immediately (it's as if the director is scared we'll get bored if there are more than five minutes of dialogue on screen between the action) our motley band drive headlong into a terrifying tornado-style storm.

Yikes.

Tanner, being a wee bit of a rebel decides to carry on regardless whilst the more by the book Perry pulls over to the side of the desert to consult the Landmaster manual.

This turns out to be a fairly bad decision as poor Perry has only gotten as far as how to set the dashboard clock before the storm has picked up the Landmaster and deposited it upside down halfway up a hill.

And unfortunately on Perry's head.

As a plus point this does mean that for the first time in cinematic history it's not the token black guy that died first.

Tho' an actor of Paul Winfield's caliber was probably hoping to get out sooner rather than later.

"You mean this van isn't full of sweets?"

There's no time for tears tho' as the next stop is fabulous Las Vegas, where quite surprisingly (and to Hunter S Thompson's utter joy I imagine) the Circus Circus is still all lit up and pumping Tom Jones thru' the tannoy system.

I would expect nothing less from the hotel I got married from.

Keegan and Tanner, relieved at finally getting some fresh air after days of wallowing in each others farts (and trust Me Jan Michael Vincent's taste of egg) race thru' the casino with gay abandon pausing only to chance their luck on the puggy machines whilst dashing Denton stand atop the stairs, hands on hips and with a clearly visible erection, gazing down on his boys with all the decorum of former Labour MP Lord Janner at an orphanage.

"Merde
  dans les cuisses de grenouilles mah bouche gourmands!"

Suddenly as if from nowhere a curtain wearing, long of face yet smooth of thighed French woman appears and introduces herself as club singer cum exotic bird (and last non mouldy woman in Vegas) Ms. Janice (Sanda from, um some French stuff).

Which is a bit of a shock for our heroes as they were expecting Cher.

Or at the very least Lance Burton.

She soon explains that she managed to survive the war because she was giving the manager a private performance in his handy fallout shelter when the bombs went off.

Typical fucking blonde.

Being real gentlemen our tricky trio offer to take Janice all the way (to Albany, not up the arse obviously) but first have to stop in Salt Lake City to get some petrol.

Oh and crisps.

Arriving at their destination (in what seems like a matter of minutes) Tanner and Janice head into town of his motorbike to look for 'women's stuff' whilst Keegan checks the abandoned cars for any discarded chocolate or cans of Tizer leaving Denton to stand about looking manly whilst sucking on a cigar.

It's whilst on this snack hunt that Keegan notices how strangely clean the human bones are within the abandoned vehicles.

It's almost as if the set has been littered with bits of cheap Halloween skeleton toys.

Well either that or the place is full of fist sized flesh eating cockroaches but really what are the chances of that?

We'll soon find out cos no sooner has Keegan open the petrol hatch when hundreds of the black shelled buggers start swarming (do cockroaches swarm?) toward him, biting and barking wildly as they go.

Keegan finding himself pursued by what looks like loads of raisins stuck to a bit of lino jumps inside one of the cars and attempts to hide under a skeleton.

Big hunky black man, skinny white skeleton, you do the math.

Beware the Cornetto man!

Noticing his pal's dilemma (tho' why he's admiring the make of car he's hiding in under the circumstances is anyone's guess) Denton hops into the Landmaster and pulls out that most useful of sci-fi movie weapons; a fire extinguisher.

Great, because we all know that mutant insects are allergic to foam.

That'll be why you never see them taking bubble baths then.

Unfortunately for Keegan this has absolutely no effect on the bugs, so Denton shuts the car door to muffle the screams before radioing Tanner to announce, in all seriousness:

"This whole town is infested with killer cockroaches, repeat, killer cockroaches!"

Utter fucking genius.

Relieved that they're not actually being chased by giant liquorice balls Tanner and Janice do their best to lose the bugs in the local Woolworths, taking the stairs (on a motorbike mind) in an attempt to outrun the lazier cockroaches who'll no doubt be waiting on the lift before stunt biking it thru' a first floor window in glorious seventies slo-mo action.

Ker-chow!

Waiting for them downstairs, after first blowing up a wall with a handy grenade launcher is good old Denton smoking a big cigar and standing manfully atop a pile of foam sodden bugs.

Phew.

Tonka.

Patting each other on the back as they drive no-one seems to give a fuck that Keegan is dead, more likely Tanner realises that he's now the only hetro' guy onboard, bringing him closer to having a wee French fancy.

Dirty sod.

Denton, obviously upset by the lack of firm man-meat in the Landmaster decides that they should stop at the next town they find in the hope of coming across a young boy.

You can take that any way you like because I'm pretty sure Denton will.

Coming to a sudden halt outside a rundown shack in the middle of nowhere, Denton sniffs the air before changing into his best uniform and heading outside where, not too surprisingly, he finds a young, baw headed and buck toothed boy named Billy (Future Fred Krueger and author of Roots Haley), who's busy throwing rocks at bad men.

Result.

"That's amazing! I'm 15 and like The Saturdays too! Now get your webcam on and your clothes off!"

Adventure seems to be coming at them by the bucket load now (well at least that's all that's coming) because after the first thirty five minutes where sod all happened they appear to be finding fairly attractive survivors every couple of seconds now.

Except for this time obviously where our heroes run foul to a group of real-life, rape obsessed gypsies hiding out in a petrol station just waiting for a nice bit of prime ass to travel by.

Oh and to sell them some pegs as well.

It's only thanks to big browed Billy's amazing rock-throwing skills coupled with Janice's almost impregnable bra (oh and Tanner's ability to shoot someone in the face at point blank range obviously) that our merry band escape without so much as a violated mouth or loss of bladder control.

Denton, feeling a bit left out of all this manly fighting decides to show everyone who's boss tho' by firing a couple of rockets from the Landmaster's missile tubes at the outside toilet in which two of the gypsies were hiding.

Which I'll admit does seem a wee bit excessive even by the future A-Team leaders standards.

"Four fingers and George Peppard...never touched the sides!"

After all this rough terrain, rough justice and even rougher toilet paper it's not too surprising to find that the faithful old Landmaster has begun to make loud clanking noises and belch plumes of oily black smoke.

Looking under the hood Denton deduces that the crank-shaft and armature quim have broken and need replacing ASAP.

If not sooner.

Luckily for all concern Denton designed and built the Landmaster to use common or garden truck parts so it's a quick detour to the wrecking yards of Detroit then all the way to Albany.

Huzzah!

Pulling into the nearest scrap palace Denton gets hard at work straight away vigorously screwing his nuts whilst Billy goes out exploring and Janice and Tanner stare into the middle distance, totally unaware that the sky has gone all red and the wind is whipping up.

Cue a low rent version of the last twenty five minutes of 2001 projected onto the clouds as Tanner, astride his beloved bike tries desperately to find little Billy whilst dodging large chunks of painted cardboard.

"Hmmmm....tastes like chicken!"

Spotting Billy having a piss behind an old corvette Tanner grabs the boy and rides back to the Landmaster just in time to see a giant tsunami engulf Detroit.

Luckily, Denton also designed the Landmaster to float, giving us ample opportunity to experience the sheer joy of watching a shoddily painted cardboard box with cut-out wheels bobbing in a bath.

Noticing the huge wet patch on the seat (no it's not Janice) Denton and Tanner manfully force open the Landmasters top hatch to discover that not only has the sky has gone back to it's pre-nuke normality but from the look of things Detroit is now a lake.

Yup, the huge and impressive special effects sequence we've just experienced was, in fact the Earth tilting back to its normal axis.

Three cheers for science!

Feeling fairly elated by this turn of events Denton sets the Landmaster into 'chug' mode and heads for dry land.

I wouldn't want that swimming up my arse.

Coming ashore in what looks like a kiddies playpark and knowing the movie only has about ten minutes left, Tanner and Denton get to work on setting up a radio transmitter in the hope of contacting Albany, which luckily they do within a matter of seconds.

And guess what?

It's only a few miles down the road.

With an excited glee not seen since The Pope visited a Glasgow orphanage Tanner and Billy jump on the motorbike and head off to meet these newly christened 'Albanians' and hopefully get first dibs on any Mars bars left uncontaminated.

Gazing ruefully into the distance as they drive into the sunset, Denton uncomfortably hugs Janice who, in turn just stands there looking French.

Chinny rackon.

Meanwhile, further down the road, Tanner and Billy are amazed to pass fields of non-mutant sheep and cows, small clean faced children playing in the bushes and about thirty well dressed and healthy people ready to welcome them to their new home.

Awe.

From the director of that other classic book balls up The Illustrated Man comes this cack handed post apocalyptic action based on a novel by Roger Zelazny, which itself is loosely based on the story of Balto, a Siberian Husky sled dog who led the team on the 1925 emergency run, transporting diphtheria antitoxin from Nenana, Alaska to Nome.

Not funny but absolutely true.

In the novel, tough as nails Hells Angel Tanner is hired to deliver a load of cod liver oil tablets to somewhere inconsequential.

Due to his unbearable BO Tanner is forced into piloting the Landmaster alone; the situations and survivors he comes across during the course of the novel work to reawaken his humanity, until by the stories end and with the Landmaster totally fucked, Tanner walks the rest of the way with the serum in a backpack.

A bit like Judge Dredd did in The Cursed Earth saga remember?

With such a great (and highly pilfered) concept and top pedigree it's genuinely frightening to see how much the movie plays out like a Children's BBC version of Mad Max.

How could director Smight and scriptwriter Alan Sharp go so wrong?

Well adding an array colourful cardboard cliché characters doesn't help

or a Frenchwoman.

And utilizing tinfoil, tea bag boxes and giving your huge survival tank a ruddy great canvas midrift is probably not the best way of going about it if I'm honest.

Oh, and getting your six year old nephew on board as scientific adviser is probably not the greatest of ideas.

"Come get in the back of me Cortina and let me bite ya!"

But to be fair there are a few enjoyable things on show.

I mean the cast are good (to a point), the deserts look nice and there's gangly love god Jan Michel Vincent  for the ladies.  

And lets be honest, what more do you want on a Sunday night?

A pity then that I watched it on a Friday.                                                                                       

worriers of the waistband.

Been concentrating on the outbreak a bit too much according to some readers so thought I'd feature films that show what may happen post-Corona.

Or if you live in Dudley what happens on a normal day.

Warrior Of The Lost World (AKA The Executioner of the Lost Earth, Mad Rider, Raiders of the Omega Year. 1983).
Dir: David Worth.
Cast: Robert Ginty, Persis Khambatta, Donald Pleasence, Fred Williamson, Robert Kilroy Silk and Bruno Bilotta.

“Very bad mothers!
Very bad mothers!
Very bad mothers!”

World War III has been and gone in a big puff of stock footage-less explanatory dialogue.

From the ashes of conflict has risen a new society, the totalitarian government known as Omega run by professional bad man Prossor (Pleasence still wearing his old Blofeld costume and therefore saving the costume designer a costly trip to Matalan) from his highly fortified shopping centre base.

Opposing this faceless, emotionless regime is the individuality loving The New Way, lead by the silver fox like Professor McWayne (orange skinned, Arab hating former talk show host Kilroy Silk) and his crack squad of nappy clad Nepalese wise men.

Legend has it - isn't that always the way? - that a mysterious (well, unshaven and piss stained) fighter will appear to help in their battle against the bad men, leading them into battle astride a cardboard and MDF enhanced 'supercycle'.

His name?

Mr. Lesley Warrior.

A smoother ride than your mum.

When we first meet 'Warrior' he's whiling away the afternoon by racing along a country lane playing tag with various Omega security cars obviously still obsessed with people adhering to the speed limit whilst Einstein, his bikes onboard computer does it's best to annoy the fuck out of the viewer by repeating everything Warrior says in a voice reminiscent of a child with a badly fitted voicebox.

Cue twenty minutes of racing, shooting and playground style stunts as Warrior battles everyone from fascist police-types to Nadsat spouting 'teens' with tights on their heads and finally a group of Nazi Stormtroopers who live on a newly mowed football pitch scattered with a dozen or so junked cars and attack passers by from their heavily armoured kiddies go-karts.

None of these are any cause for concern to a warrior of, um, Warriors standards unlike the huge cliff face he singularly fails to see before driving headlong into it.

Arse.

Luckily for the rest of the movie this inconvenient accident doesn't kill Warrior or destroy Einstein (unfortunately in that case) and he's soon seen lying naked except for a fluffy towel whilst those pesky mystical types wave their hands over him, watched by a bemused Barry Henchman (Williamson, whose alimony bill must have been fucking huge that month).

Resting up (but not shaving) Warrior is approached by the sexily snooty Nastasia McWayne (dusky beauty Khambatta from MegaForce and Star Trek: The Motion Picture) who explains that her dad has been grabbed by the Omegas (sounds painful) and is to be executed the next day unless they mount rescue mission.

As opposed to mounting a wee boy.

"I'm shagging your weans!"

To make sure he'll agree to the mission Nastasia threatens to shoot him in the cock if he tries to leave.

No surprise then that he eagerly agrees to help and is soon decked out in a pair of Kwik Fit overalls, navigating a secret underground tunnel chock full spiders, snakes and ball headed mutants by torchlight in an attempt to break into the Omega fortress.

Which if I’m honest isn't half as exciting as it sounds seeing as it only takes them about ten minutes, to give some much needed perspective it took me at least half an hour to break into your mum.

Only joking.*

Entering Omega city via a warehouse cum nightclub our heroes are subjected to some eighties style leather-clad Europop dancing before making their way outside and along to execution plaza as dastardly Donald's voice booms over the cities sound system reminding folk that emotions (and collars by the look of things) are a crime.

Oh and that there's a special offer on baked beans, twelve tins for a pound.

"Do you expect me to talk?"
"No Mr. Bond I expect you to shite in mah mooth!"

Arriving at the execution area our heroes take a seat and prepare for action by watching three (obviously less important) prisoners pull sex faces whilst getting electrocuted before one of the guards, armed with a huge flame-thrower comes out and roasts the corpses.

Just to make sure.

As soon as daddy McWayne is dragged out for his (s)execution Nastasia and the Warrior take out the guards (and anyone else in their way) with some handy machine-guns before running thru' the city and decimating what looks like at least 70% of Prossor's army and smashing a few windows for good measure before escaping in a handy helicopter that was parked in the street.

Unfortunately in all the excitement Nastasia (after getting shot in the arse) gets left behind to be captured by Prossor's men whilst his elite crop spraying team try in vain to stop Warrior and the professor reaching the relative safety of hills.

Persis Khambatta, up the casino, 1979.....Yesch!!

Back at hippy central, McWayne decides that maybe he should have tried to help his daughter rather than run screaming from the scene so, in a fit of pique raises a rag-tag army of misfits (about twelve of them) to overthrow Prossor and turn his superstore empire into a collection of pound shops.

The only way to get these outsiders (or 'marginals' as the script calls them) on side tho' is for Warrior to go to the local kiddies playground and offer to fight them all, which of course he does (tossing a midget for good measure), winning the title of 'Mr. Lost World Top Fighter' and the respect of his peers.

It's now time for Warrior to lead this makeshift military mob into battle against the forces of darkness and destroy the Omega fortress by means of kiddies scooters, some second hand mobility cars, a few old taxi's with cardboard fins stuck onto them and a milk float whilst The Professor and Mr. Henchman monitor the attack from the air.

Just imagine the climax of Mad Max 2 re-enacted by a gypsy convoy and you're halfway there.

Some muthas do 'ave 'em.....dig?

This (scarily) successful attack on consumer culture is brought to a sudden halt when Prossor unveils his ultimate defense.

A giant, matt black bin lorry with huge wooden spikes attached and a roof mounted flame thrower that thunders very slowly up the road and can't take corners.

Ladies and gentlemen, behold the 'Megaweapon'.

The deadly Megaweapon earlier today.

Everyone stops what they're doing and just stands staring as it trundles slowly toward them, not knowing whether to run scared or piss themselves laughing.

Warrior asks Einstein "How the Hell do we stop that?" before receiving the chirpy reply of "Forty megatons!"

Yup, that's right, a glorified removal van that can only be destroyed by a nuclear strike.

This film must be like hard core porn to Jeremy Clarkson.

Clarkson: masturbatory fantasies.

With Megaweapon looming ever closer and the evil Prossor preparing to wipe Nastasia's mind (that wont take long), it will take a miracle (or some shady plotting) for Warrior and his friends to succeed in bringing what amounts to anarchy to Prossors well ordered society.

Will they overcome the dreaded Megaweapon?

Will Einstein get crushed under it's wheels allowing Warrior to find the off switch?

or Will Prossor turn out to be an android replica all along?

There's only one way to find out!

You can't help but feel envious of director/writer David Worth.

Not only has he directed three of the greatest movies ever made; Shark Attack 3: Megalodon, Kickboxer and the Cynthia Rothrock starrer Lady Dragon but admits that when he was hired to direct Warrior Of The Lost World he was given free reign to make it about anything he wanted as long as it looked a wee bit like the poster they'd designed.

So how on earth did he manage to make something featuring super fast cars and bikes so pedestrian seeing as he had carte blanche and a budget well in excess of £78?

Too much freedom perhaps?

James Cameron please take note.

It's like coming in halfway thru' the last episode of a six part TV series, you kinda guess who everyone is, you know what's going on and you think you know where it's going.

Just just don't care why.

It's not all bad tho', the thing is fairly enjoyable in a 'what the fuck's going on?" kinda way and the cast (bar the annoying little fucker playing Einstein) are top notch, well midway notch...well they're notched in some way.

And what a cast it has; The Exterminator himself Ginty resplendent in stonewash denims and teabag stubble, dear old Donald Pleasence, Persis Khambatta with hair and Fred Williamson in a beret.

Just when you think it can't get any better in the cult actors stakes tho', my mate Geretta Geretta turns up as a foxy Amazon and kicks the shite out of our hero whilst a plaid covered dwarf looks on.

It's worth it just for this alone.

Oh that and the fact that everyone shakes their guns in a pow! pow! motion whenever they are called on to fire them.

Frankly if this is how the post-apocalyptic world is gonna be then I'm off to cough on everyone in Morrison's.

I'll just go cut the collar off my shirt and blow up the wheels on my trike.

Post-apocalyptic pleasures don't get much guiltier than this.

...and the fathers who love them.

*Or am I?