Blood Capsule #336

RATTLERS (1976)

Muscle relaxers.  They give, and in the case of today's subject, they take away.  Man, about an hour into Rattlers, my eyelids were beginning to drag on the floor.  I managed to pull myself together, though.  I came close to hitting eject.  By that I mean, I came close to hurtling myself through the ceiling, as I watched this film on Tubi.  Rattlers feels like a made-for-TV cheapie.  But it's not that inviting.  I should have known better.  Any horror freak worth their Himalayan pink salt could tell you that snake movies are only rewarding propositions if the snakes involved are either giant or mutated in some way.  Or preferably, both!  Rattlers concerns...rattlers.  Technically, their genes have been modified by nerve gas, but big deal.  That just makes them aggressive.  And if I've said it once, I've said it a million times; an aggressive snake is not as interesting as a 50-foot snake.  Wait, have I ever said that?  I'm probably lying.  Let me start another paragraph before I divulge another untruth.

Our main character, a herpetologist (of course), is played by some guy named Sam Chew Jr.  How he wasn't a bubblegum mascot is anyone's best guess.  As an actor, he seems to be on the ball, but I don't think anyone told him that he was in a fright flick.  His blood pressure couldn't have eclipsed triple digits.  I know mine was low, but I wasn't dealing with live snakes.  Rattlers is humdrum through and through.  The script is floating with small talk, and I do mean floating.  There is no memorable score to punch up the scares.  Any screams you hear on the soundtrack merely break up perpetual lulls of silence.  If I wasn't an obsessive-compulsive when it came to logging my cinematic conquests, I seriously doubt that Rattlers would have made the cut for Random Reptile Month.  Hey, someone has to raise the red flag over this fiasco.

Sam Chew Jr.  No way that's his real name.

Bluetooth Grin?

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Blood Capsule #335

KING COBRA (1999)

If I could give this film a standing ovation, I would.  It's not overly impressive as a "giant snake" vehicle, but it has three magic words on its side - the Chiodo brothers.  They handled F/X duties in a stunning show of anti-CGI sentiment that took me by surprise.  The technology was there.  Anaconda (don't worry, we'll get there soon enough) used CGI two years earlier, and it looked slick, but of course, that particular serpent was backed by a significant studio.  While King Cobra was released by Lion's Gate, I can't confirm whether the funding came from big wigs or regular-sized wigs.  Either way, there is no digital duplicity on display.  The title monster, a cross between a king cobra (Ophidiophagus hannah) and an eastern diamondback rattler (Crotalus adamanteus), is one hell of a creation.  The thing has palpable personality, more so than our human leads.  The acting isn't bad per se; it's just that the characters are offensively uninteresting.  I did like Erik Estrada as a gay-for-some-reason event planner.  Yeah.

It goes without saying that the plot insists on throwing a major shindig in a small town.  This time, it's a beer festival, and I have no idea why.  I guess they're opening a brewery or something.  Pat Morita stars as the herpetologist who knows everything.  For what it's worth, I enjoyed watching him condescend to government officials.  King Cobra starts and ends strong.  The second act...that's where I had problems staying awake.  If I wasn't so won over by the Chiodos' handiwork, it would be hard to recommend this flick.  Still, we're in solid 3-Z'Dar territory.  The directing team of David and Scott Hillenbrand also shepherded Survival Island, which I believe is about an evil piñata.  Now that's a resume.

DOM REACTS To R.L. Stine's Pumpkinhead!

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Blood Capsule #334

GAMERA THE BRAVE (2005)

One look at my rating, and I know you'll think I'm crazy.  Apparently, the powers that be completely disagree with me, as this film effectively ended the Gamera franchise as we know it.  This is the best Gamera jaunt I've ever seen, and folks, I will die on that hill.  I think it's fair to say that most genre fans are familiar with our turtle warrior's Showa series, the string of cheese-grade kaiju epics that ran from the mid-60's to the early 80's.  They would usually depict a universe where austere government officials would be led around by cloying groups of children.  They were absurd.  Plain and simple.  Gamera the Brave answers the question, "What if those goofball movies were made by actual filmmakers?"  I won't denigrate the Showa era (I own half of them), but this Gamera should be seen as the Gamera.  Yes, I dig the 90's trilogy.  There is plenty of room for high-quality Gamera-based entertainment, and that includes bottles of Mtn Dew Code Red.

The plot is basic.  A little boy named Toru stumbles upon Gamera's egg and raises it like you would any pet.  Eventually, this cute leatherback levitates and triples in size.  It soon becomes obvious that Toru is dealing with the same kind of Gamera that saved Tokyo from Gyaos (kaiju Pterodactyls, essentially) in 1973.  And wouldn't you know it?  A new monster has risen from the ocean depths, and it's up to Gamera to save Tokyo from certain doom.  Again.  Maybe I'm getting soft with age, but lead actor Ryo Tomioka has expressive eyes that will pierce your soul.  You might even feel...emotions?  In all seriousness, the child actors are splendid.  They come across as real kids, ordinary individuals in extraordinary situations.  The script has more heart than all of the Showa films combined.  I was totally sold on the human drama, which is why I'm trying so hard to sell Gamera the Brave to you.  What's more, the special effects are just right.  Are they worthy of five Z'Dars?  I think so.

It's a shame that this flick was a box office failure in Japan.  I would line up next to myself to see a sequel with the same creative nucleus.  Why do I have a feeling that Random Reptile Month is peaking early?

Iron Supplements #8

MOTHER AUGUSTA

Mother Augusta is an Italian black metal band.  They're one of the more pleasant surprises I've come across thanks to this column.  However, their appeal is, shall we say, limited.  Allow me to explain.  I'm currently listening to Low Lights, the band's most recent full-length album.  Certain tracks could pass for 90's-style alternative rock...with black metal retches anyway.  The bulk of the record is mid-paced.  That's alright with me.  I realize that most metalheads would disagree, but I don't need a tune like "Pills" to launch into blast mode to keep my ears mollified.  If there were any doubts as to Mother Augusta's intentions, the "Similar Artists" tab on their Metal Archives page is littered with depressive black metal acts.  That's probably going to circumscribe their listener base or at least put a check on it.  It shouldn't, but you know it will.  And it's a shame because if you ask me, Mother Augusta delivers.

To date, these gentlemen have released an EP and two studio albums.  I hear a little bit of Forgotten Tomb, which can only be a good thing.  Highly recommended.

Blood Capsule #333

OCTOPUS (2000)

It's probably not a good sign that when someone was ensnared by a tentacle at a little past the hour mark in Octopus, I literally uttered aloud, "Oh, right.  This is a killer octopus movie."  I would be exaggerating if I said that I had completely forgotten, but that wouldn't be too far from the truth either.  This flick has more in common with The Hunt for Red October than it does It Came From Beneath the Sea.  Yes, it's a submarine thriller.  To boot, it's a submarine thriller that premiered on the USA Network.  I'm going to go out on a severed limb and proclaim that Red October might be the better film.  Of course, I'd rather watch Octopus anyway, but that's my problem.  A terse prologue tells us that the Cuban Missile Crisis resulted in barrels of radioactive waste being jettisoned to the ocean floor.  Cut to thirty years later.  A Bulgarian terrorist bombs the embassy, killing children and CIA agents alike.  And then a giant octopus...nope, not yet.  It's decided that the terrorist will be transported back to America in a submarine.  And then a giant octopus shows up?  Yeah.

First off, props to Octopus for dispatching a little girl in the opening scene.  Secondly, this isn't a bad submarine thriller.  NOTE: I don't watch stuff like Red October or Grey Lady Down, so this could be a terrible excuse for a submarine thriller.  Just saying.  All I know is that I didn't fall asleep in between bursts of cephalopod-coated carnage.  And for your information, we're dealing with a mutant octopus.  It's positively ginormous, and the best action scenes reminded me of Deep Rising.  Conversely, the special effects are mostly digital.  In other words, the special effects are mostly cack.  Excrement.  Codswallop.  I think I've made my point.  The only actor I remember is Carolyn Lowery.  She serves as the PG-13 T&A, and for some reason, the script pushes sexual tension.  It doesn't work.  At all.  Apparently, Lowery had a small role in Candyman, but I'll have to take IMDb's word for it.  She's in one scene, tops.  Director John Eyres is also responsible for 1993's Monolith, a sci-fi nugget that I reviewed forty-eight years ago.

I'll go to bat for myself and say my rating is fair.  There is a sequel.  Don't tempt me.

Blind Zombies and You

Just so you know, I'm going to be writing Blood Stains (mini-capsules) of the Blind Dead films over the next week or so.  You can read them over on the ol' Patreon along with almost sixty (!) other Blood Stains.  Plus, you get early access to reviews AND the knowledge that you're helping me out.  Support your boy!*

*That's me.  I'm your boy.