Blood Stains!

What are Blood Stains?  They are mini-Capsules of movies I watch that I don't plan on reviewing.  I've written over a dozen.  Where can you read them?  On my Patreon!  Subscribers also get early access to Blood Capsules.  Click HERE to check it out!

Blood Capsule #289

MUTANT (1984)

Despite the VHS cover art (pictured below), this is not a riff on Alien.  In fact, there is no bipedal monster at all.  Mutant deals with the threat of "infection zombies," so it has more in common with The Crazies than, say, The Being.  I admit, I was totally cool with watching a streamlined version of The Being, but I ended up enjoying this flick more than I thought I would.  Way more.  Wings Hauser (!) and Lee Montgomery star as brothers vacationing in the middle of nowhere.  Car trouble forces them to stay in a bed-and-breakfast, but it isn't long before Lil' Bro (Montgomery) goes missing.  Wings - I'm simply calling him Wings - teams with the sheriff and a darling schoolteacher to find out what's happening in a town that could be described as too quiet.  Where is everyone?  And where is the local plant dumping toxic sludge?  Eventually, we run into zombies, although they are not traditional Romero zombies.

I love it when a movie kills off characters that would be considered safe in any other situation.  Of course, I don't want to reveal who gets the axe on the off-chance that you haven't seen Mutant.  Which brings me to my next point...see Mutant!  The exposition gives you just enough information to intrigue you without burdening the pace.  The nuts and bolts of the script are screwed in tight (there has to be a better way to say that).  You're naturally in the protagonist's corner.  Because he's Wings Hauser.  Sadly, there is an unequivocal lack of gore.  It's okay.  Mutant might be the only zombie flick that doesn't need guts n' grue to satiate the viewer.  It certainly doesn't go out of its way to earn its R rating.  I'm recommending it anyway.  I had a blast with it, and I'm pretty sure it's available to stream.  Random trivia!  Director John "Bud" Cardos is also responsible for The Dark and Kingdom of the Spiders.  Eh, two out of three ain't bad.

PS-Wings Hauser passed away the day after I wrote this review.

R.I.P.

Blood Capsule #288

DEEP SEA MUTANT SNAKE (2022)

This was a Wal-Mart purchase, meaning it's not something I would normally entertain.  But it was the right price at the right time, and boy, this thing looked ridiculous.  As a collector, there are times when you have to (italicized for impact) buy a movie sight unseen.  Other nerds can empathize, though I don't know how many other nerds have seen Deep Sea Mutant Snake.  I can only sigh at the current state of "giant snake" flicks.  Anaconda was released nearly thirty years ago, and this is where we are?  Don't give me any bunkum with respect to budgetary restrictions.  The CGI is absurd.  Mutant Snake is a Chinese production, but I could sneeze and my mucus would land on a product made in China with more value than this turkey stillbirth.  In spite of (atrocious) dubbing, it's clear that the cast is second-rate.  I know, I know...acting isn't terribly important here.  Was anything important to director Wu Yang?

By the way, this is Yang's sole credit as a craftsman.  Shocking, no?  I had to resort to reading the synopsis on IMDb to figure out what was happening.  And that was after I watched the film.  We get an evil corporation, a mammoth serpent, a more mammoth serpent, and a cruise ship plagued with bog-standard serpents.  They just show up.  There is a commitment to randomness at play, which you'd think I would appreciate.  At the hour mark, the pace breathes so that we can learn a little about our gallant hero.  I remember nothing.  Character names?  I'm drawing a blank.  My 2-Z'Dar rating might seem generous, but Deep Sea Mutant Snake (or Deep Brown Sea, as I like to call it) does deliver dumb action.  Really, really dumb action.  If you want actual fun on a cruise ship, I'd advise popping in Deep Rising for the tenth time.  Matter of fact, I might pop Deep Rising in tonight.  Thank you, Wal-Mart?

My thoughts on Until Dawn...

So I knew absolutely nothing about Until Dawn before seeing at the theater last night.  Apparently, it's a video game adaptation?  Yeah, I'm clueless.  The marketing has been piss-poor, to borrow a phrase from my late grandfather.  But hey, when you have the opportunity to catch a spooky flick with a friend, you take it.  I guess you would call this a slasher, but it's definitely a slasher of the modern day.  A group of friends search for Clover's missing sister.  Said search involves dying over and over again, each time to a different assailant.  The gimmick here is that we're fed a variety of horrors, everything from a masked psychopath to tap water that makes you explode.  There is even a kaiju-sized monster, although it disappears from the frame much too soon.

I dug the gore, which is mostly practical.  I had fun with Until Dawn overall.  I must confess, the particulars of the plot left me scratching my head.  I don't actually understand how any of it works, and I don't think the filmmakers would be able to explain it to me.  Let me put it this way; the less questions you ask, the better.  On the bright side of life, the pacing is tight, and once you're hooked, you're going to want to stick around for the finale.  I'll say 3.5 Z'Dars.

Blood Capsule #287 (Special Edition)

What's a Special Edition? It's a series where I review one of my favorites. These are films that would appear in my Top 50 or so (if I endeavored to compile such a list). My goal is to write a Special Edition Blood Capsule once every couple of months. We'll see how that goes!

NIGHT OF THE CREEPS (1986)

This was maybe my fifth or sixth viewing of Night of the Creeps.  I went in looking for flaws, thinking that there had to be something that dragged it down.  My verdict?  It's pretty much perfect.  I'll even let the one-liners slide, and normally, those kinds of quips can grate my nerves.  But it's Tom Atkins!  I'm sorry; I'm assuming you have seen this film.  I started writing movie reviews at the turn of the millennium, and a couple of decades ago, I would have started off with the synopsis.  It's 2024, though.  Are you really not familiar with Creeps?  If you haven't seen it yet, well, watch it.  But also, it's about space slug fugitives who have crash-landed on Earth.  As soon as they skitter across the crust, they hijack dead bodies and puppeteer their way into a local university.  Technically, this is a zombie romp.  Having said that, horror goblins never mention it as a top-tier zombie movie.  Good heavens, I don't know why.

Creeps is notable for featuring a main character with a disability.  We never learn J.C.'s exact condition, but it never matters.  For obvious reasons, I appreciate the inclusion of a handicapped dude, and I appreciate the fact that he's written with panache.  All of the main players are three-dimensional.  You root for the protagonists, which should always be the goal.  That's why the bloodshed works.  By the way, I love the axe-wielding zombie.  That guy deserves his own franchise.  Of course, Atkins is effortlessly cool as the ill-at-ease Detective Cameron.  He has so much quotable dialogue, and again, I usually frown on "cute" lines.  The film earns them, so I won't press charges or anything.  Director Fred Dekker keeps everything moving along at a zippy pace.  It's unfortunate that he couldn't pull his resume together after the calamity that was Robocop 3.  Eek, that's another story altogether.

Night of the Creeps is a classic.  Enough said.  If it's not on your shelf, consider yourself banished from my celebrated Halloween card list.  Don't worry.  You still have a shot at my Christmas card list.

Rassle Inn #54

What the hell was that?  Let me see if I understand.  John Cena is a heel.  Cody Rhodes is a babyface.  The crowd wanted Cena to win his seventeenth championship.  Okay.  Travis Scott is a heel.  The crowd wanted to stone him, and rightfully so.  He didn't even know how to take Cody's finisher.  For the love of God, keep him away from the ring.  The mat itself would issue a restraining order if it could.  But anyway, what...what?  What did WWE want from this ending?  Do they want Cody to receive boos from here on out?  Do they want the obvious heel to be a fan favorite?

I'm sorry, but this was just awful.  You can make the argument that John Cena deserves to break Ric Flair's record.  At some point.  But why here?  Is this simply a case of a domineering star hogging the spotlight and inserting himself into a main event picture that never really needed him?  Speaking of which, is this The Rock's idea?  I only have questions, and on the Monday after Wrestlemania, I shouldn't have so many questions.  What gives?  Is Cody taking time off?  Will Cena retire with the belt?  If this was his last Wrestlemania, when who does this nonsense elevate?  That is the point, isn't it?  To elevate a future star?

Um, the rest of the show was fine.  The main events of Night 1 and Night 2 were the only matches that felt like epic Wrestlemania clashes, though it was nice to see Becky Lynch return to action.  Most of the Saturday card reeked of lethargy.  The crowd was dead.  The midcard has been brutal for awhile, even during The Bloodline's hottest moments, but does anyone care about Damien Priest or the tag titles?  There were definitely positive takeaways scattered throughout both nights.  I'm glad that Dirty Dom nabbed a surprise victory.  Of course, there are simply too many titles.  That's nothing new, though.

The one thing I can say is that I'm curious to see where everything goes from here, and I'm including WWE's acquisition of AAA.  Does that count as a positive takeaway?  Man, Travis Scott...that guy is a walking episode of Dark Side of the Ring.  Egads.

MESSA - The Spin

It has been a little over two years since I wrote a full-on music review.  There is no real reason for that.  I just haven't been in the right headspace for it, and besides, Now Playing allows me to mollify my need to babble about what I've been spinning lately.

Speaking of which, let's babble about The Spin.  I've been freaking over this album since it came out.  I would be genuinely surprised if it didn't turn out to be my top album of 2025.  I know, it's only April, but...man.  That's my critic quote to slap on the cover.  "I know it's only April, but...man."  Doesn't that say it all?  I'll have you know that thanks to this website, my love for Messa is well-documented.  2022's Close seemed to be their breakthrough release, but I went nuts for 2018's Feast for Water.  I'm a big proponent for their brand of loose, expansive doom.  The Spin might contain their strongest material yet.

First off, Sara's vocals are so on-point, they're threatening (in a sweet way).  "Immolation" shows off her ability to play with a jazzy cadence.  Often times, the verses will lull you into a trance, and you forget that she can belt.  The high note at the end of "Fire on the Roof" may cauterize the nearest open wound.  That's probably my favorite song, but special mention must be made of "Reveal."  Somehow, the guys in Messa have figured out how to infuse blastbeats with a slide guitar.  Should it work?  No.  But does it work?  Yes.  I'm also low-key amazed by the call-and-response between guitar and trumpet on the eight-minute "The Dress."  It's already an epic song, what with the layered chorus and the riffs that smack of Tony Iommi.  It may be trite to compare a doom band to Black Sabbath, but the influence is clear.

Guitar solos.  I dig 'em, and I particularly dig the lightning flurry (??) of harmonized leads on "Void Meridian."  Likewise, the solo on "The Dress" completes the song.  I'm trying to decide if there is anything here I don't enjoy.  The Spin's most grievous offense is the fact that it ends.  We only get seven tracks, which run for forty minutes, give or take.  The album ends with "Thicker Blood," a tune that features some truly demented black metal shrieks.  Eh, it keeps things spicy and unpredictable.  I will say, I haven't completely fallen for "Immolation" yet, but that is subject to change upon repeated listens.  I do plan on listening to The Spin repeatedly.

If you have the capacity to entertain the doomiest of dooms, take it from the Dommiest of Doms (hmm, I've turned into a nickname generator).  This is an easy one to grade.  For what it's worth, I'd rank The Spin above Close.  Opinions and all that.

Blood Capsule #286

FIEND WITHOUT A FACE (1958)

We're operating in one of my wheelhouses again.  Brains!  I recently reviewed 1988's The Brain, so it's by mere serendipity that I find myself exploring Fiend Without a Face, a film whose brainy creatures are a result of "thought materialization."  What does that mean?  It's a little hazy, but basically, a scientist straps nodes to his noggin and concentrates the beings into existence.  They feed on nuclear power, which happens to be radiating from a nearby military base.  Oddly enough, the scientist himself - an affable fellow by the name of Professor Walgate - is not evil.  The encephalic monstrosities simply become evil.  Again, it's a bit hazy.  The titular fiends are invisible until the third act.  I'm getting ahead of myself.  This is normally where I break down the rest of the plot, but aside from technical twaddle, there isn't much to deconstruct.  The characters are as boring as chicken broth.  No, bone broth!

The first 45 minutes or so are inconceivably dry.  The fact that our wrinkly assailants are invisible for most of the running time doesn't help matters.  And yet, the finale is worth the price of admission alone.  You haven't lived until you've seen stop-motion brains rappel themselves through the air, their spinal stems whipping frenetically like so many broadswords.  We get a fair amount of gore when they are pierced by bullets.  It's a hell of a sight, and apparently, there are stories of audience members fainting because of it.  Fiend Without a Face is an obvious recommendation, even if it ambles out of the dugout somewhat sleepily.  Man, Somewhat Sleepily would make for a great/terrible post-rock band name.  I'm not into post-rock, but I am into brain-themed horror hullabaloo.  Be sure to check out neighboring titles such as Donovan's Brain and The Brain from Planet Arous.

And the winner is...

And the winner of the Super Random, Super Cool Contest is...Ian Mackenzie!  Congratulations!

The winner has 48 hours to respond.  At that point, another winner would be chosen.  I'll do another contest in six months or so.  Keep your eyes peeled!

Blood Capsule #285

BURIED ALIVE (1989)

This is a weird one.  First of all, I was set to watch 1990's Buried Alive, but the tape was a dud.  Thanks to YouTube, I was able to find a replacement...1989's Buried Alive!  Same title, (very) different film.  It's presented as an Edgar Allen Poe adaptation, but this is a far cry from Roger Corman's AIP ventures.  In fact, it's not based on any particular story at all.  The plot concerns a psychiatric ward for wayward girls.  I suppose you could call them "delinquents."  They are comically antagonistic towards each other, to the point that there is a knife fight every other day.  Somehow, this joint doubles as an educational institution, and one of the "teachers" is a naive blonde plagued with disturbing visions.  Red flag alert!  I've had to use quotation marks twice, and I haven't even gotten to the meat of the matter.  Buried Alive is on the fence about being a slasher, as we see characters slide down a chute to an underground lair where they are accosted by a dude in a creepy Ronald Reagan mask.

I don't know, gang.  This is a stylish flick, and for the first ten minutes, I was optimistic.  I thought I had another diamond in the rough at my disposal, but no, this is just more rough.  Donald Pleasence, of all people, is criminally wasted in a peculiar role as some pompous popinjay who gets off on quoting Shakespeare.  John Carradine (yes, that's a complete sentence).  Also wasted.  Apparently, this was his last gig, unless you count Jack-O.  NOTE TO SELF: Revisit Jack-O.  Buried Alive seems to think that it's pretty brutal, but aside from crosswise camera angles, it doesn't offer anything noteworthy.  Again, it's made well.  That only gets you so far, though.  Technically, Jack-O was made well.  Actually, it wasn't, but it was profoundly more entertaining than this Poe-dunk pablum.

Random Song Alert

So I woke up with a Hum song stuck in my head.  I haven't listened to Hum in probably twenty years, so I don't know how it got there.  I was motivated to revisit Downward is Heavenward.  Egads, what an album.  How did they manage to combine space rock, nerd rock, and alt-metal?  Oh, and shoegaze.  Don't forget shoegaze.  Anyway, I'm going to listen to more Hum in the coming days.  You should, too.

Blood Capsule #284

KONGA (1961)

Michael Gough is awesome.  Without him, I'm not sure that this film could stand on its own two feet.  It's just a silly riff on King Kong, but it's deliriously entertaining thanks, in large part, to Gough's performance as the mad Dr. Decker.  He simply drips evil.  A little background information on Konga, if I may...it was made for a nugatory $500,000 after writer/producer Herman Cohen had enjoyed some success with genre pictures such as Horrors of the Black Museum and I Was a Teenage Werewolf.  Believe it or not, Konga was pitched under the working title of I Was a Teenage Gorilla.  It was one of the first - if not the first - monster mashes to be shot in color.  As for the plot, we're dealing with all kinds of kooky pseudo-science.  Dr. Decker's plane goes down on a remote island, and as the natives minister to his maladies, he discovers a link between flora and fauna.  It has something to do with cell division?  Basically, he injects growth hormones into various plants and animals.  So, y'know, we get a giant ape.

It's worth noting that the ape is a giant...for the last twenty minutes or so.  It starts as a chimpanzee.  Of course, it mutates into the kind of hairy hominid that was fashionable up until the 60's.  You could say that Konga put a nail in the coffin for stuff like The Ape Man and Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla.  Then Bigfoot happened, but that's an editorial for another day.  Anyway, Gough flat-out rocks here.  I love how Dr. Decker's heinous plans explode in front of him.  At one point, his pet student (that he's in the process of propositioning) is attacked by a carnivorous plant right as Konga towers over both of them.  That's called great cinema, folks.  The ending is a tiny bit disappointing.  This might be the only b-movie where the military has enough armaments to take down the colossal brute.  Does beauty kill the beast?  Nope, just bullets.  A lot of bullets.  Konga isn't on the level of Mighty Joe Young, but it gives The Mighty Peking Man a run for its money.

Remember that Reptilicus comic book I was raving about last year?  Well, that same company issued a Konga comic book, and yes, it's on my Christmas list.  Er, Easter list.  It's on a list!

Now Playing #19

Only Living Witness - Prone Mortal Form

This is a first.  I never thought I'd be writing about a metalcore album, but before you revoke my metalhead license, allow me to remind you that this record came out in 1993.  More of a hardcore band with metal flourishes than the other way around (no Gothenburg worship here), Only Living Witness came and went like cytoplasm in a mosquito net (???).  What I mean to say is that they were unjustly obscure.  They're still obscure, but it seems as though people are finally waking up to their modest smattering of material.  Cripes, it only took three decades.  OLW have two full-length albums to their name.  Prone Mortal Form is the debut, and it has claimed a spot in my van's CD player.  It's been there for a decent while.  Musically, this stuff would appeal to almost any well-defined clique or "scene."  Hardcore, metal, hard rock...it's a formless blob that influenced all of the bands that exploded in the early 2000's.

You can draw lines of congruence, but I want to emphasize the fact that OLW do not resemble Killswitch Engage in any way, shape, or (prone mortal) form.  If they did, I probably wouldn't dig Prone Mortal Form.  As much as I hate to be that guy, I'm pretty much that guy.  Favorite cuts?  "Root," "Ninevah," and the punchy, two-minute "VTA."  Favorite guitar solo on "Root"?  The guitar solo on "Root."

Sanctuary - The Year the Sun Died

I slept on this album when it was released in 2014.  I have no idea why.  I like Sanctuary.  I even own a copy of 1990's Into the Mirror Black on cassette tape (which rules, by the way).  I guess checking out this reunion opus is part of my Nevermore kick, and yes, I'm still on a Nevermore kick.  The presence of the late Warrel Dane makes The Year the Sun Died translate as a lost Nevermore album.  At the very least, I think it's fair to say that it's a little more Nevermore than formative Sanctuary.  I don't hear much of the late 80's on songs such as "I Am Low" and "Question Existence Fading."  That's not a good thing or a bad thing.  Just an observation.  Whatever you want to call it, I freakin' love this batch of tunes.  Special mention goes out to Brad Hull's crisp guitar work.  He was in a killer band called Forced Entry right around the time that Mirror saw the light of day.  Check them out, too.

I believe that a version of Sanctuary currently exists with Witherfall's Joseph Michael behind the microphone.  That's a tasty proposition.  Listen to "The World is Wired" or the songs I already mentioned.  They are excellent examples of...groove thrash?  Metal.  It's metal.

Blood Capsule #283

FLOWERS IN THE ATTIC (1987)

Disclaimer: I haven't read this film's source material, nor have I seen any of the supplementary versions of Flowers in the Attic.  My opinion is pure, but it's just the opinion of a dope who wouldn't normally watch something like this.  Call it a palate cleanser?  We're in stark melodrama territory.  You could almost call this a modern tragedy, though I understand the book was set in the 50's.  Again, that's irrelevant.  I wasn't too surprised to learn that Wes Craven was attached to direct at one point.  With different packaging, this would be lurid horror all the way.  I hesitate to write a detailed synopsis, but we'll see how far I get.  A penniless mother is forced to move back in with her parents following the tragic death of her husband.  She hopes to win her father's love, thus solidifying a spot in his will.  He's on his deathbed, you see.  There is a caveat.  Her mother (a morose Louise Fletcher) is a warped, deeply religious battle-axe who insists on keeping the children tucked away upstairs.

My plot summary may feel a little incomplete, but that's all you need to know.  A word to the wise...stuff gets dark.  Darker than most mainstream horror films.  While I can't say that I had a blast watching Flowers, this isn't exactly party material.  It's grim, more so than your cousin's black metal project (his demos suck, by the way).  The cast is strong, especially Fletcher.  Why on Earth do I find her to be so attractive?  She usually plays despicable characters, and yet, I have a thing for her.  Am I unwell?  An honorable mention goes out to the score by the exquisite Christopher Young.  I'm not used to watching a-movies, so I don't know that you should take this review seriously.  For what it's worth, I'd say that Flowers in the Attic is a posh piece of cinema.  Recommended to fans of beneficiaries, executors, and other will-related words.

Two reminders!

#1 - I'm running a contest that ends in a week-ish.  #2 - Next month is Random Sequel Month!  Tell your friends and enemies.

Blood Capsule #282

MERIDIAN (1990)

I had to make a half-Z'Dar rating icon specifically for this review.  I never thought I would actually have to use it, as I can find something positive to say about most lemons I encounter.  But this...this broke me.  Charles Band should be ashamed of himself for directing Meridian, a feelbad, low-class "horror fantasy" that wastes a creature suit originally drafted for Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula.  Sherilyn Fenn stars as a broad abroad in Italy.  She inherited a castle, so naturally, she decides to immediately invite an entire troupe of strange carnival performers.  That's when Meridian decides to immediately become an abhorrent rape/revenge flick, only without the revenge.  Because when Catherine is drugged and violated by a mad magician (in slow-motion, for Christ's sake), she falls for his twin brother.  That's when I decided to immediately chuck my copy of Meridian into the garbage disposal.

This film bears the markings of any other Full Moon production, including a chimerical dwarf (played by Phil Fondacaro) and an equally chimerical score by Pino Dinaggio.  It's missing a key element, though - fun.  There isn't a single ounce of fun to be had, especially if you nod off here and there.  EDITOR'S NOTE: I may have nodded off here and there.  The pacing is listless, the dialogue is routinely ridiculous, and oh yeah, I don't want rape in my Full Moon movies!  Am I overreacting?  It would be one thing if I went in expecting grindhouse sleaze, but I wasn't exactly in the mood for Ms. 45.  Buyer beware.

A Band: Lost Soul

Lost Soul is listed as a technical death metal band on Metal Archives, but I'm not so sure that's accurate.  Yes, their music is technical, but it's just as accurate to simply label them as what they are - a Polish death metal band.  When I say "Polish death meal," what springs to mind?  Probably Vader, maybe Hate, maybe mid-era Behemoth...precise, supercharged death metal that takes a little bit from Florida and Sweden.  Early Lost Soul is predominantly blasty.  2000's Scream of the Mourning Star is an excellent debut, and it might as well be your starting point.

Personally, my favorite Lost Soul material can be found on 2005's Chaostream, which was their third long player if you're counting at home.  It's marked by seismic riffs that hit without warning (see "Godstate" to hear what I'm talking about).  Blastbeats are still excessive, but by this point, the band had found their inner groove.  Melody be damned, a song like "Shameless Race" piledrives its way into your brain.  2009's Immerse in Infinity is sonically epic, and it actually served as my introduction to Lost Soul.  Layers upon layers of lead guitars compete for your attention.  "...If the Dead Can Speak" is a killer track that climaxes with an expansive solo.  There are moments that could be confused for nu-metal, and they wouldn't work on any other album.  But they work here.

I know I already said that Chaostream was my favorite of the bunch, but between you and me, it's a toss-up.  Immerse in Infinity is just so massive.  2015 saw the release of Atlantis: The New Beginning, which currently stands as Lost Soul's final hour.  It's definitely their weakest effort, as everything sounds too massive.  It tries to be "high concept," but it collapses beneath chaotic guitar work and odd chanting.  Don't let that deter you from checking out Lost Soul, though.  Honestly, Chaostream is a sleeper pick, as it may be one of the strongest post-2000 death metal albums to come out of Central Europe.  Yep.

I thought I would end up typing a novel's worth of panegyric praise, and I probably still could, but I'll cap it here for the sake of brevity and sanity.  Lost Soul is listed as active, so maybe we'll get something new in the not-too-distant future?  Question mark???

Blood Capsule #281

EVE OF DESTRUCTION (1991)

In the last year or so, I've tried to broaden my horizons a bit.  What does that mean?  In terms of Blood Capsules, it means more science fiction.  Teenaged Dom (who is becoming a recurring character, it seems) would have strolled right past Eve of Destruction in the video store.  Of course, I probably would have been in the horror section anyway, but that belies my point.  I'm finding that there is a wide range of sci-fi nuggets that are wacky enough for my idiosyncratic sensibilities.  I'm also finding that "wacky" is a prerequisite in my household.  I mean, it's the perfect adjective for a film that pits Gregory Hines against a Terminator-esque android.  Why Gregory Hines?  No, I'm asking.  Why was he chosen to play a callous, hard-boiled colonel with the vocabulary of...well, Teenaged Dom?  That's not a compliment, by the way.  Hines gives it the old college try.  I don't know that he failed necessarily, but I was having a tough time buying him as a John McClane type.

I've gone and buried the lede.  This is a cool, energetic "action thriller," and yes, it hurt typing those words.  I won't let it happen again, though I concede that this is definitely not a horror flick.  It does come close enough for my purposes, as I like to say.  We do see some moist gore in the way of bionic intestines.  Speaking of which, Renée Soutendijk gives a cracking performance as both Eve and her all-too-human architect.  If there was any justice in this world, she would have received an Oscar nomination for her services rendered.  But there isn't, so she'll have to settle for the dinky praise of an online critic.  Eve of Destruction goes down smooth if you're in the market for brisk entertainment.  Having said that, I can see why it flopped in the States (it bypassed theaters altogether overseas).  It certainly won't light your VCR on fire.  I'm thinking 3.5 Z'Dars.  Recommended if your video store doesn't have copies of T2: Judgment Day.  Yeah, I'm still running with the VHS gag.  Call it a gimmick.