Film Review: Deathstalker III: The Warriors From Hell (1988)

Also known as: Deathstalker III: Deathstalker and the Warriors from Hell (full title), Deathstalker and the Warriors from Hell (alternate)
Release Date: 1988 (Mexico)
Directed by: Alfonso Corona
Written by: Howard R. Cohen
Music by: Israel Torres, Alejandro Rulfo
Cast: John Allen Nelson, Carla Herd, Thom Christopher, Terri Treas

Concorde-New Horizons, New Classics, Triana Films, 86 Minutes

Review:

“Potatoes are what we eat!” – Khorsa

I have never seen a Deathstalker movie that I have liked, so finding one that was featured in an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 is no surprise. And really, this is probably the worst film out of the four.

The movie starts with an evil barbarian horde pillaging a village because that’s how all these kinds of movies start. People die, a hero rises from the ashes and has to crush the evil. However, the evil is some short, scrawny, bald guy that wears giant furs and looks like the host of some swingers party that no one wants to be at. He’s like the guy that tried to bang his secretary to get revenge on his wife who is “disinterested in sex”, except the secretary wouldn’t touch him and quit her job and the dude just planted evidence to look like he had an affair because no one wants him: his wife, his secretary, the bears at the gay biker bar, no one.

The hero is no better. He spends the duration of the film’s 86 minutes trying out different accents, none of which work. He’s also just some pretty boy soap actor from Santa Barbara. All I remember from that show was the opening credits sequence, which made my Auntie Belle smile everyday like a fat kid with a coupon book to Chet’s Burger City.

Deathstalker III is just a long, awful, meaningless, mundane build up to a final showdown between a fur covered mid-life crisis having Saturn car salesman and a pretty boy trying out accents to woo ladies that would be more at home in a Chubbies advertisement than wielding a sword.

I remember actually renting this as a kid because I thought the video box art was incredibly f’n badass! That poster represents the movie in no way whatsoever. The only thing accurate about it is the swords. Yes, they exist in this movie but the hero certainly isn’t some Fabio-esque barbarian book cover model. In fact, the filmmakers should be sued by anyone that ever saw the video box on a shelf and wasted 99 cents on a lie. It’s like buying a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue with Heidi Klum on the cover, only to open it and see that all the other sexy bikini shots are of Rosie O’Donnell and Oprah Winfrey.

This is an appalling movie that must have been a cruel joke by the filmmakers involved. Even though Roger Corman is a producer, albeit uncredited, this is a blight on his name and he’s the King of B-movies.

This is a Z-movie, that’s how bad it is.

Deathstalker III: The Warriors From Hell can’t escape the clutches of the Cinespiria Shitometer. The results read, “Type 1 Stool: Separate hard lumps, like nuts (hard to pass).”

Film Review: Racket Girls (1951)

Also known as: Blonde Pickup, Pin Down Girls, Wrestling Racket Girls
Release Date: 1951
Directed by: Robert C. Dertano
Written by: Robert C. Dertano
Cast: Peaches Page, Timothy Farrell, Clara Mortenson, Rita Martinez

Arena Productions, Screen Classics, 70 Minutes, 68 Minutes (DVD cut)

Review:

“And don’t forget about me. I’m Joe.” – Joe the Jockey, “Hi, Joe. You’re cute.” – Peaches, “I get it – anything that is small is cute. Well, that’s me.” – Joe the Jockey, “Don’t you know? Good things come in small packages” – Peaches, “[openly staring at Peaches’ breasts] Not to my way of thinking.” – Joe the Jockey

This was put out by Screen Classics and producer George Weiss, the man that distributed the earliest Ed Wood films. Therefore, you know this is of a similar quality. Well, it is missing the charm of Wood, so without that, it’s just a really awful motion picture that was destined to be lampooned on Mystery Science Theater 3000.

Like many of Weiss’ productions, this was released multiple times, in multiple small markets with multiple titles. This wasn’t uncommon for crappy indie pictures back in the ’50s, especially those that feel like they are some sort of proto-grindhouse feature albeit lacking the sort of skin and violence those movies would shovel into run-down theaters during their peak in the ’70s.

The plot revolves around some lady wrestlers in the ’50s. There are some unconvincing mobster types that try to use the women’s wrestling federation as a cover for their illegal schemes. The crime boss is in over his head and has to evade meddling police and bigger mobsters that he owes money to. I guess this is technically film-noir but it’s as low as a noir can get and then, even lower.

And if you must watch a noir picture with some wrestling in it, might I suggest Jules Dassin’s Night and the City, which is actually a damn fine film and has real wrestling legend Stanislaus Zbyszko in a key role.

This film could be the worst wrestling themed film ever made and that’s saying a lot if you’ve ever seen Grunt!Ready to Rumble or No Holds Barred. I actually love No Holds Barred in spite of its awfulness. But really, this makes Grunt! look like Citizen Kane.

Even if this had El Santo in it, it couldn’t have been salvaged. It’s an exceptionally shitty film to the point that I feel great distress over the poor film stock that had to have this movie burnt into its very soul. If Argentina can’t cry for Evita, they should shed those tears for the poor film stock that was permanently disfigured by Racket Girls.

Without a shadow of a doubt, this turd covered turkey is going into the Cinespiria Shitometer. The results read, “Type 3 Stool: Like a sausage but with cracks on its surface.”

Film Review: Lost Continent (1951)

Release Date: August 17th, 1951
Directed by: Sam Newfield
Written by: Orville H. Hampton, Richard H. Landau, Carroll Young
Music by: Paul Dunlap
Cast: Cesar Romero, Hillary Brooke, Chick Chandler, Sid Melton, Hugh Beaumont, John Hoyt

Lippert Pictures Inc., 83 Minutes

Review:

“Look at the size of that footprint! I’ve never seen anything like it before!” – Nolan, “I have. Once… in a museum.” – Phillips

Lost Continent has the benefit of being watchable, thanks to being featured on Mystery Science Theater 3000. It also has Cesar Romero in it but even the future Joker couldn’t pull this schlock out of the prehistoric muck.

It features a boring tale that finds some dudes in a world ruled by dinosaurs. It’s not all that original and has actually been a tale told dozens of times, even by 1951. It’s like King Kong without King Kong and less talent behind the production.

The dinosaurs look awful and sound more like elephants than ferocious giant reptiles. The effects, in general, are pretty terrible even for 1951 standards.

This is the type of film that could have had a decent story and kept you engaged with some solid hokiness but it fails to do that. I feel bad that Cesar Romero was subjected to this cookie cutter shit festival but he did some pretty bad movies in his day. But for a guy so suave and debonair, he probably deserved a better movie than this. Although, I guess actors need to work, even if that work is acting alongside some kid’s plastic bath toys.

I don’t hate Lost Continent and it is okay enough to get through with MST3K ribbing but there are much better ways that one can spend their time. You could start a new fad diet, learn how to tie some trick knots or hell… you could try Velcroing yourself to the side of a train. All would be better uses of your time.

All things considered, this needs to be run through the trusty Cinespiria Shitometer. The results read, “Type 4 Stool: Like a sausage or snake, smooth and soft.”

Film Review: Village of the Giants (1965)

Release Date: October 20th, 1965
Directed by: Bert I. Gordon
Written by: Bert I. Gordon, Alan Caillou
Based on: The Food of the Gods and How It Came to Earth by H.G. Wells
Music by: Jack Nitzsche, The Beau Brummels
Cast: Tommy Kirk, Johnny Crawford, Beau Bridges, Joy Harmon, Robert Random, Tisha Sterling, Toni Basil, Ron Howard

Berkeley Productions, Embassy Pictures, Joseph E. Levine Productions, 81 Minutes

Review:

“I’m hungry too. What’s for breakfast?” – Elsa, “Sheriff, on toast.” – Fred

A movie with Ron Howard and Beau Bridges in it that is based off of an H.G. Wells story? Well, at least it sounds good on paper.

This movie was featured in an early Mike Nelson episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and I guess this was one of the few that I have never seen because I would have remembered this bizarre train wreck of pure, unadulterated awesomeness.

These juvenile delinquents that are overly delinquently and dance like cracked out schmucks every chance they get, come into contact with this chemical that makes living things grow to much larger proportions.

However, before we even get a town ravaged by kaiju sized teen douches, we get to see ducks the size of rhinos dancing around in a nightclub. We also get to see one get barbecued, which was kind of sad because a one ton party duck isn’t just something you skewer, set on fire and cover in Sweet Baby Ray’s! These dumb kids could have paraded that duck around from town to town getting lots of money from curious rednecks and baffled farm folk.

This film is terrible but it’s that extraordinary kind of terrible where it has just enough bizarre kookiness to make it pretty unique and quite entertaining. I can’t realistically give this even an average rating but I was charmed by the absurdity of it and for the fact that it is a fun dumb movie. It’s nowhere near as bad as most of the dreck you’ll see on MST3K and if I were to make a list of best movies to watch that were featured by MST3K, this would be high up on that list.

Village of the Giants is stupid but its a stupid you can laugh at and enjoy.

Film Review: Radar Secret Service (1950)

Also known as: Radar-Geheimpolizei (West Germany & Austria)
Release Date: January 28th, 1950
Directed by: Sam Newfield
Written by: Baryl Sachs
Music by: Russell Garcia, Richard Hazard
Cast: John Howard, Adele Jergens

Lippert Pictures Inc., 61 Minutes

Review:

“G-Men . . . T-Men . . . and now . . . R-Men!” – film tagline

Man, where to start with this turkey?

It was featured in an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and for good reason. It’s pretty dreadful but not completely unwatchable. It works well within the context of the MST3K episode and its films like this that are the best for riffing.

The story is about criminals who steal some uranium. So the government brings in these agents to track it down using new radar technology. It’s even more boring than it sounds but there is a sort of hokey charm about the film.

It obviously wanted to tap into the success of the James Cagney’s 1935 picture G-Men and the 1947 film-noir T-Men, which was a film made in a semidocumentary style. The film’s marketing presented the picture with a tagline calling these heroes “R-Men”.

It is interesting seeing the post-World War II paranoia that was normal at the time of this film’s release. Also, it tapped into the fears surrounding atomic material. Although, this doesn’t have the benefit of giant insects and a lot of awful forced perspective shots.

Radar Secret Service is pretty boring and uneventful. Yeah, it is a shitty film, there’s no denying that but it can be salvaged by watching it with the MST3K riffing of it.

So considering the awfulness of this picture, it needs to be run through the Cinespiria Shitometer. The results read, “Type 6 Stool: Fluffy pieces with ragged edges, a mushy stool.”

And no trailer on the Internet for this one, so I guess I’ll treat you to the MST3K episode that features the film.

Film Review: The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies (1964)

Also known as: Diabolical Dr. Voodoo, The Incredibly Mixed Up Zombie, Cabaret der Zombies (Germany), The Incredibly Strange Creatures, Teenage Psycho Meets Bloody Mary (reissue title)
Release Date: February 10th, 1964 (Biddeford, Maine)
Directed by: Ray Dennis Steckler
Written by: Gene Pollock, Robert Silliphant, E. M. Kevke
Music by: Andre Brummer, Libby Quinn
Cast: Cash Flagg, Carolyn Brandt, Brett O’Hara, Atlas King, Sharon Walsh, Madison Clarke

Fairway International Pictures, 82 Minutes

Review:

“We’ve got twenty beautiful girls and only ten beautiful costumes!” – Barker

My god, man… this is one of the worst films that I have ever seen!

I’m not really sure what the hell happened in the elapsed time of me watching this film. There’s scantily clad girls dancing, a weird psychic lady with an unattractive mole and just some bizarre shit.

I feel like I got sucked into one of the long and drawn out hypnosis moments in the film because I blacked out for an unknown amount of time, only to wake up covered in blood and bird feathers. I don’t think it was effective hypnosis though, I just think it unlocked some insane part of my brain due to how absolutely atrocious this psychotic shit festival was.

This was featured on an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. While I love that show, this is beneath them. Yes… something is beneath MST3K! In fact, I’m kind of mad at them for even resurrecting this pile of Sasquatch dung. It could have died a long time ago but they immortalized it.

There isn’t much to say about this other than to warn people away. But maybe I’ll use the time to list out five things that would be a better use of your time than watching this.

***Disclaimer: DO NOT actually do anything from this list. I am not responsible for you being a moron without a brain. So if you do these things and want to sue someone, sue your parents for raising a fuck up.***

  1. See how many pennies you can fit in your mouth.
  2. Throw darts at your foot.
  3. Kick a beehive and wait around for a second.
  4. Get ink for your quill by squeezing it out of a live octopus.
  5. Tell Brock Lesnar “wrestling is fake” to his face.

This thing really is friggin’ dreadful. That being said, it has to be run through the Cinespiria Shitometer. And the results read, “Type 6 Stool: Fluffy pieces with ragged edges, a mushy stool.”

Film Review: Santa Claus (1959)

Release Date: November 26th, 1959 (Mexico)
Directed by: Rene Cardona, Ken Smith (English language direction)
Written by: Adolfo Torres Portillo, Rene Cardona
Music by: Antonio Diaz Conde
Cast: Jose Elias Moreno, Pulgarcito, Jose Luis Aguirre, Armando Arriola, Lupita Quezadas, Antonio Diaz Conde, Angel Di Stefani, Ken Smith (English language narrator)

Cinematográfica Calderón S.A., 97 Minutes

Review:

“Away up in the heavens, far out in space, in a beautiful gold and crystal palace right above the North Pole, lives a kind and jolly old gentleman. Santa Claus.” – Narrator

This could be the worst Christmas themed anything that I have ever seen. Sure, it’s a challenge to top Santa Claus Conquers the Martians and Santa Claus and the Ice Cream Bunny but this may have done just that.

Santa Claus is a Mexican movie but don’t worry, as it is accompanied by some really bad dubbing for gringos in the States.

Basically, this pits Santa Claus against the Devil or some form of a devil because he comes from an underground land of devils. The Devil is evil, Santa is good. The Devil wants to stop Santa, Santa is just like, “Screw this Devil bro, I got presents to get to the little hijos!”

While this film is terrible. It does have some cool visuals. The sets are hokey and cheap but at least they are somewhat imaginative even if they look like they were pieced together from stolen department store holiday displays. But you can’t accuse this film of not at east feeling and looking festive. For 1959, the atmosphere isn’t any worse than any of the bigger budget American holiday specials from the time. It looks like a stage show but that’s fine, all things considered.

However, the plot, the acting and just about everything else is pretty awful. This isn’t a good movie but the visual aesthetic is still interesting and I can’t completely dismiss this. Still, as a total package, it is probably the worst holiday film I’ve seen in a really long time. Although, it probably isn’t as bad as Kirk Cameron’s Saving Christmas, which I have yet to see. Maybe next year.

So does Santa Claus deserve to be run through the Cinespiria Shitometer? Why, yes! The results read, “Type 7 Stool: Watery, no solid pieces. Entirely Liquid.”