storm in a teacup.

Been asked to review this terrifyingly realistic action flick for the dear Mr. Nick Frame but because his site is very grown-up and actually read by more than six people I've been asked to tone down the mooth shite-ing and laugh now's.

Gonna be a fucking short piece then.

Meteor Storm (2010).
Dir: Tibor Takács.
Cast: Michael Trucco, Kari Matchett, Kirsten Prout, Brett Dier and Emily Holmes. There are obviously a few more folk but I really can't be bothered listing them. What do you think this is? Halliwell's?

Sexy science type Dr. Michelle Lynman (pointy visaged Matchettan of Cube 2 fame) is getting fairly excited about a big meteor shower - sorry, storm -  that's due to light up the skies over San Francisco (expertly played by a bit of Canada), you see she's an expert on space rocks and stuff which may be useful later.

Like all good disaster movie heroines Michelle has a fraught home life, her two 'teenage' kids are visibly the same age as her whilst her husband Tom, a hunk-tastic Harley riding retired air force colonel and current head honcho of San Francisco's Disaster Management Agency (lucky that) is just about to finalise their divorce.

Poor lamb.

"Nope, no mooth shite-ing to see here!"

Anyway, enough clichéd background filler as we're here to see San Fransisco burn and burn it does as the aforementioned pretty lightshow turns into a full scale bombardment throwing large clumps of CGI building and all manner of toy cars heavenward as the poor lowly paid extras scream and point a lot whilst running for cover.

Confused as to why everything is exploding and angry at the fact that Tom didn't pick up the kids as promised (tho' I've no idea where he'd put them...in his saddlebags perhaps?) Michelle heads back to the observatory to run some tests or something as scientists are the want to do in these situations.

Probably.

Meanwhile her two annoying teens, Kara and Jason (the moon faced Prout and granite chinned Dier) are trapped on the river front as dozens of steaming computer generated turds rain down on them with one even hitting Kara's secret boyfriend in the arse leading to an exciting subplot involving them trying to get a comfy seat to sit on whilst they attempt to get him to hospital.

"I really don't think you should laugh right now".

Michelle is quickly grabbed by the military (which isn't as painful as it sounds) to try and come up with a reason for the bombardment whilst Tom is tailed by two fame hungry news reporters desperate to get the story of the century.

And if that wasn't enough to keep you glued to the settee in a way usually reserved for damp wank tissues there's also Michelle's sister nurse Laura (teevee stalwart, Mrs. Tom Cruise and fictional literary detective Holmes) who's decided to wetly drive around the city helping passers by find comfy chairs to sit in.

Marked for death anyone?

"How'm I gonna explain that to my nan?"

Working out some complex equations and 'hm-ing' a lot, Michelle figures that San Fransisco is now safe and that Denver (fantastically portrayed by Google Maps) is next in line for a computerised kicking.

So imagine her surprise (and the directors relief at not having to find any new locations) when at the designated meteor strike time even more rocks start falling on San Fransisco bay.

Almost as if the city was somehow being targeted.

Scary biscuits.

With time (and budget) running out and even larger bits of brick fast approaching it's up to Michelle to save the city and stop the army blowing shit up whilst Tom rides around aimlessly looking for the kids inbetween shouting at various folk to clear the city whilst standing against various green-screen shots of model buildings.

Will Michelle save the city and maybe the world in time?

Will auntie Laura survive or fall off a collapsing Golden Gate Bridge to sombre soundtrack music?

And will Tom save the kids before saving his marriage?

Well what do you think?

Font.

When he burst onto our screens back in 1978 with the almost Lynchian metaphysical music masterpiece Metal Messiah,  Tibor Takács became the darling of the lo-fi indie scene in his adoptive home of Canada (yes you can), his career taking in the lost classic I Madman before hitting the big time with the fantastic The Gate, launching the career of professional sexy man Stephen Dorff along the way.

So who the fuck did he piss off in Hollywood to end up making stuff like Ice Spiders, Mosquito Man and Mega-Snake for sweetie money on the SciFi channel?

Saying that tho' if his IMDB profile is anything to go by it's not affected his earnings that much seeing as he's obviously bought a huge pie shop.

"Don't worry, we'll CGI the phone in later".

Anyway, back to the 'film' (I know but I have to), it might be cliché ridden crap with an effects budget that doesn't even stretch to giving Kari Matchett a properly fitting bra, dialogue that a twelve year old would baulk at writing and acting so wooden I actually got splinters in my eyes but, just like that Gin sodden, overweight,  short skirted girl at the bar you always take home when you're feeling lonely it's a painless and fairly enjoyable to spend an hour and a half.

And is considerably less shameful.

Especially if you take a drink everytime something totally expected happens.

Tho' keep away from spirits as you'll probably die within the first fifteen minutes.

Which when you think about it is exactly what it's like when you take that girl home.

Hopefully his next movie, the Christa Campbell starrer Spiders 3-D will deliver more of the same.

things i get sent (part something or other).

Genuine message I received thru' Facebook this morning:

Dear Dr. Lamont, 

Let me first say that I think your blog is OK and sometimes even a little bit funny but not always.


The reason I'm messaging you though isn't to stroke your obviously massive ego but to ask your advice.


Imagine this. 

You are attracted to women, like you are now (emotionally and sexually), but they do not exist. 

They existed a long time ago, and no one knows what they looked like (They have a pretty good idea from the fossils, however), but they do not exist anymore.


That means, not only do you know there will never be any possibility of you
having sex with one, but there’s not even a possibility of you ever seeing one in real life.


Everyone else, however, except for a very few, are not attracted to women,
they are attracted to something else entirely.


So in other words, you will never find any porn anywhere on the internet, only non-sexual pictures of women.

Everyone you have told about your attraction to women think it’s disgusting.
To relieve yourself, you get off on the non-sexual pictures of women, knowing it will never get any better.


That’s what life is like to me.


I am a degree 6 Zoosexual, sexually and emotionally attracted to Tyrannosaurs and nothing else.

Women don’t even do it for me. I am cursed to live my life in the misery that my most powerful emotional fantasies will never be even close to coming true. Life is like hell to me. 

I will never know true love.


So can you recommend me any good Dinosaur movies?

Yours ____________________

He needs your help! (and not just in a fashion sense).

OK readers it's over to you.

people you fancy but shouldn't part 28.

Shirley Jones from The Partridge Family.

Nuff said.

whatever happened to...

...Rosemary, baby?

Find out at Chiller Theatre April 29-May 1, 2011.

End of plug!

celebs that look like scifi creatures (part one).

stuff you don't expect...

.....to find in the comic books (part one).

reckless eric.

Sharktopus (2010).
Dir: Declan O’Brien.
Cast: Sir Eric Roberts, Sara Malakul Lane, Kerem Bursin, Liv Boughn, Héctor Jiménez, Blake Lindsey, Ralph Garman and 'Hand' Shandi Finnessey.

"Ladies and gentlemen there's a killer shark-octopus hybrid headed this way. So please leave in a timely fashion". 

Eminent genetic scientist and professional sexy man Nathan Rand (the living legend that is Eric Roberts) alongside his geekily librarian-like bespectacled daughter Nicole (Phraw Rak Kkhrap Phom's Lane) have been busying themselves creating a brand new bio-weapon for use by the U.S. Navy.

As one does.

The culmination of this work, codenamed: S11, is a terrifying mix of shark and octopus (oh and a wee bit of porcupine if the spikes are anything to go by but obviously sharktopineporkopus didn't fit on the box) controlled from dry land via a huge pair of snazzy earphones screwed into it's skull.

And it's ready for testing.

The lights are on...

 Obviously as is the way with these things, on it's first trip out it accidentally bumps into a speedboat snapping one of the leads and re-tuning it's command frequency to Jazz FM causing the poor sod to go crazy bat (shark?) shit mental and start swimming to Mexico.

Who saw that coming?

Imagine the shite it would take to fill that.

The Navy, led by the amusingly monikered Commander Cox are understandably furious (even tho' it was him that pointed poor sharktopus in the direction of the boat in the first place) and demand that Rand returns sharktopus to them within the next 48 hours, leaving the sexy scientist no choice but to grab the largest bottle of scotch the budget will allow, get pissed and head down to Mexico himself alongside a couple of folk in ill fitting shirts and his daughter.

Is it just me who thinks he's not really taking the situation seriously enough?

Meanwhile sharktopus is getting a wee bit peckish from all this swimming lark, so you can imagine how delighted he is (well as delighted as a computer graphic from around 1984 can be) to find the coastline littered with hundreds of plastic breasted, anorexic wannabe actresses not too ashamed to thrust their bony crotches camera-ward and a variety of middle aged, balding has been and ne'erwere hunks all decked out in Matalan Hawaiian shorts.

He surely is a lucky shark (topus).

"It'll eat me whole!" "don't worry it'll spit that bit out!"

Arriving in Mexico around the same time as a number of sea-based killings are occurring, Rand begrudgingly contacts the slick 'n' sexy Andy Flynn (Bursin, best know for his role of Grauss in the hit indie short Thursday and for keeping your mums bed warm after bingo),  a comedy hat wearing, lecherous former shark hunter cum soldier of fortune who also happens to be an ex-employee of Rand who was sacked for lighting his own farts in staff meetings.

It seems the drunken, shiny manbreasted arse is the only hope we have of catching the sharktopus before it's too late.

Frankly I think we're screwed.

"Look at the dog!"

Not too surprisingly, Rand and his erstwhile buddies aren't the only ones in pursuit of the beast, also hot on its tentacles are fright-chinned news reporter Stacy Everheart (Boughn from the upcoming Dinoshark), her cameraman Bones (Jiménez, best known for dancing on Yo Gabba Gabba) and a drunken, womanising fisherman who's seen the creature first hand.

And if that wasn't enough characters to fill such a threadbare plot there's also the pot-bellied local pirate radio DJ Captain Jack (Garman from Family Guy), who alongside his scarily Stepford-like assistant Stephie (former hostess for "The Firm Express" workout system infomercials and Miss Missouri USA 2004 winner Finnessey) who could give sharktopus a run for it's money on the scary teeth stakes if I'm honest.

"Put it in me!"

 Now that all the pesky character and motivation stuff is done and dusted we can sit back and enjoy  ninety odd minutes of titanium tittied, bikini babes and iron balled boys being eaten by the titular monster as they innocently sunbathe, search beaches for Roman coins and bungee jump as our heroes argue, look quizzically at laptop screens, shoot stuff and in Eric's case get more and more pissed on duty free gin as you try to forget your once Oscar nominated career.

"Rrrrrrraaaaannnngggeeeerrrrsssss!"

And for the ladies viewing?

The film even has a heartfelt (and incredibly realistic) burgeoning romance between Nicole and Flynn as they bicker, fight and steal lustful gazes at each other before eventually falling in love and gazing out over a CGI sunset just in time for the end credits.

Awe.

He can see you naked.

From the man behind Wrong Turn 3, Rock Monster and Learn The Game: The Big Football Game comes quite possibly the greatest hybrid shark/octopus movie starring the one-time Master from Doctor Who ever made.


Showing Jaws, Cloverfield and Jurassic Park how it should be done, fear-Meister O’Brien has crafted a tension filled, thrill a minute beast of a movie with performances so real and effects so perfect that you will honestly believe sharktopus exists.

No, really.

With a script that holds such gems as "The sharktopus is armed and dangerous!” and a lead in Kerem Bursin to rival Mark Hamill in the charisma stakes, Sharktopus is as near as cinema gets to perfection.

If you only purchase one shark/octopus hybrid movie this year make it this one.