REVENGE OF THE RADIOACTIVE REPORTER (1990)
I had zero expectations flying into this cost-effective b-pastry. Well, that's only partially true. The film looks better than I had predicted, which would put the budget somewhere in the three-digit range. It's not fucking Blade Runner, but I was able to surmise that the crew had a telltale inkling of crafty knowledge. Revenge is palatable to the eye, especially its use of cool (as in "not warm") blues and sci-fi greens. It doesn't say much for the script that I'm beginning my dinky review by highlighting the color scheme. The plot is just silly. An incredulous journalist probes into the practices of a seedy sludge factory. As far as I can tell, it's a literal sludge factory. Like the Alice in Chains song! Anybody? Milk carton size? Bueller?
So the reporter congregates with the board of directors and threatens to go public with his findings. The CEO (or something) takes the soon-to-be radioactive malformation on a tour of the plant to prove that it meets all of the necessary health guidelines. It doesn't. The repor...er, Mike is pushed into a vat of chemical gunk. No, he doesn't turn into The Joker. He does become gnarled (see above), and by God, Durant is going to pay! Die, Durant, die! Okay, Revenge of the Radioactive Reporter isn't 100% original, but it's harmless fun. Relatively speaking, the special effects are modest and presentable. Those are the best adjectives for this flick-a-dee. It is modest, presentable "rainy afternoon" gaiety.
No comments:
Post a Comment