Unseen Terror 2018: Days 8 & 9

*sigh*
I didn't expect for this to happen within only the first week of this year's marathon. As (unfortunately) per usual, I'm a bit behind on not necessarily my viewings, but my reviews themselves. Thankfully, there's at least three movies spread across these past two days, so that is assuredly a plus, right?

Anyway, let's just do this damn thing. I need to try and adjust my sleeping schedule again to something that resembles a mammal's.

There's a special kind of "bad" attached to horror pictures from the latter half of the 1950s. While there was certainly an assortment of genuinely good projects being released (Creature from the Black Lagoon, Invasion of the Body Snatchers), the populace was also subjected to just a barrage of glorified "Drive-in" flicks. More often than not, these weren't the type of films that were going to blow your mind, but only served as something to sit back and watch with your loved one as you attempted to make that frightening "first move." Now, before you read any further ramblings or opinions on this little picture, I want you to take one good look at the poster for 1959's The Wasp Woman, which revolves around an older woman in the cosmetics field who takes a new, experimental youth potion derived from wasp jelly, but is surprised by what side effects occur. Grandiose and rather striking, isn't it? Well, that's about the most memorable aspect of the movie, because despite what is advertised on that piece of art, you aren't getting a gigantic insect with the head of a woman. Instead, the titular monster looks more akin to a cheap knockoff of the creature from The Fly, which was released one year prior to this. It isn't entirely surprising to find out that this was produced and directed by 'B' movie kingpin Roger Corman, as he's never exactly been shy about releasing motion pictures that recall (then) recent efforts. But unlike some distributors of the modern day era, he isn't going to lie to the audience, and at the very least, he'll try his damnedest to entertain you, and given how gleefully over-the-top everyone in The Wasp Woman is, he's certainly trying.

And then, there is The Giant Claw. Not only does this poster lie to the audience, but as I'll discuss below, it deceived the performers that were involved in the actual production! In the case of this infamous 1957 turkey, I was fully aware of its existence. I recalled seeing a trailer multiple times on my Fantastic Dinosaurs of the Movies VHS tape, and if luck is on my side, I'll be able to cross every movie featured on that relic from my childhood off of my bucket list by the end of 2019. After nearly twenty-five years, I can now finally say that I've finished this one in its entirety, but oh man, writing a review of this picture without busting out laughing was kind of difficult. Plot-wise, it's your standard "giant monster" flick, with a giant winged beast appearing seemingly out of nowhere to terrorize the world. What surprised me the most while watching The Giant Claw was how sincere lead actor Jeff Morrow is. He's treating this the same way that actors treated the original King Kong or Gojira. Heck, now that I think about it, the rest of the supporting cast isn't too shabby either. But then, I found out that there was a twist to this entire experience. They didn't know that they were supposed to be in awe of THIS:

Yep. It turns out that all of the actors and actresses involved with The Giant Claw were completely unaware of how goofy and dumb-looking the behemoth buzzard was going to look (legendary designer Ray Harryhausen was originally attached to create it, but they had to cut that due to budget restraints). Much to their horror, its design and just plain awfulness was revealed at the movie's premiere, where Morrow reportedly snuck out of the theater while the audience laughed their collective asses off. I can't say that I blame him either, because you just can't be scared by something that looks like a Looney Tunes character with mange.



It must be said that while neither of these two movies will ever come close to the films that they were clearly inspired by, their influence on others over the past several decades can be felt. Heck, if you look at the stories, last year's entertaining Rejuvenatrix shares a lot in common with The Wasp Woman, and The Giant Claw could be the grandfather of bad movie masterpieces like Birdemic. If you're going to purchase either of these schlocky experiences on home video (Corman's flick can be found streaming for free on Amazon Prime, and The Giant Claw is available in an assortment of DVD collections), then I strongly suggest you grab a large pizza, a case of beer, and some friends that can appreciate some good old fashioned cheese.



Do be careful with the alcohol though. If you take a shot for every time that The Giant Claw is described to be "as big as a battleship," you'll end up dead before the first act is over.






Well, now that Day 7 has concluded, let's get a little more serious for the eighth one.

Figuring that I needed to take a break from the "B" movies (and that I desperately craved something that could at least warrant a rating of two stars in an unironic sort of way), I decided to welcome Mr. Clive Barker back to this year's marathon. Prior to pressing play, my memories of 1995's Lord of Illusions were fairly nonexistent. The only distinguishing things that I can recall about the picture were some trailers, the fact that it was based on another short story from his "Books of Blood," a couple of nifty posters, and a finale that was supposedly rather insane (though it seems like that's a given in the case of most of the man's creations). Our plot revolves around private investigator Harry D'Amour, who comes into contact with members of a fanatical cult that seem to be fully intent on resurrecting someone dubbed "The Puritan." It turns out that Nix, the man in question, is the seemingly-deceased head of these followers, and had discovered how to utilize real magic. Before he could cause real harm to the world, he was murdered by his top pupil, and buried where no soul could ever find him. That is about as much information that I can give you about Lord of Illusions, as further discussion could find me diving headfirst into spoiler territory.


The very first thing I noticed in Lord of Illusions was the presence of Kevin J. O'Connor. Just when I thought that I had escaped his annoyingness after Deep Rising, he has returned to haunt me until I go mad and pull out every useful part on and inside of my head. Much to my surprise though, he is far more likeable this time around, and as an integral part of helping move the story along, he is written to be the opposite of a comedic relief. It also blew my mind to see another face from Deep Rising pop up in the form of Famke Janssen, and while I'm sure that was just coincidence, it still weirded me out quite a bit. Unfortunately, she's probably the weakest link in the acting department, but her character isn't the most developed of the bunch so it's hard to blame her. Scott Bakula of Quantum Leap fame plays our hero, who is apparently one of the only recurring characters in Barker's stories (he's even crossed over into the world of the cenobites). He is putting one hundred percent into this performance, and it makes me wish that we had continued to see further Barker-related adventures involving this guy. He shares some similarities with other fictional males like John Constantine, though he could probably never come close to how much shenanigans and weirdness that the Alan Moore creation has collected over the past several decades.


Considering the title of this particular motion picture, you would expect that the visual aesthetics of Lord of Illusions would stand out from the crowd. The good news is that the set pieces and color schemes certainly evoke a mood and world that is unmistakably Clive Barker. It isn't hard to tell the difference between a flick that he directs (Hellraiser, Nightbreed) and one that he merely writes or attaches his name to (Rawhead Rex, Book of Blood). The third act, which was indeed quite hectic, also sports some very creepy imagery and effects that could really get under one's skin. The bad news however is that the movie does sport some iffy green screen and computer-generated effects that while not completely abhorrent or severely dated, can occasionally take you out of the experience. Still, it's only a tiny bruise on an otherwise very good-looking project.


While it can't really stand up to previously-released motion pictures like Nightbreed, Hellraiser, or Hellbound: Hellraiser II, I still think that Lord of Illusions is worth a watch. It sports a fun narrative that never bores you, a cast of kooky and memorable characters (it could be hard for Super Troopers fans to look at Daniel von Bargen again without seeing bugs crawl out of his eye sockets), and some nifty violence that only the Brit himself could concoct. If you're interested in completing your Clive Cinematic Collection, Lord of Illusions can be purchased on Blu-ray from the always reliable Scream! Factory. However, if you're feeling cheap, it's also available to stream for Amazon Prime members for the low, low price of absolutely nothing.



As an added bonus, you can also check out the concept record from defunct heavy metal band Nevermore, who sampled the movie for their classic "Dreaming Neon Black" record. Brownie points for whoever can actually make out those samples as well.




Tomorrow, I'm one step closer to my birthday, and I'm feeling like I need something to close out thirty-two in proper fashion....

Unseen Terror 2016: Day 21 & Day 22

As a military vehicle is transporting the dangerous gas known as Trioxin from town to town, a single barrel breaks loose from the back of the truck, and falls into a nearby river. Soon afterwards, a young boy named Jesse is coerced by two bullies to venture into the nearby cemetery, where all three stumble across the aforementioned tank. Though Jesse warns that they should not tamper with it, the others are far more ambitious, as they decide to lock their "victim" inside of a vault in the hopes that he will no longer disturb them. Though he is eventually and accidentally freed by a trio of grave robbers, it is too late to stop his curious comrades from messing with the Trioxin, which has effects that are worse than anything that they ever could have imagined. Within no time, the dead rise from the ground, and they are craving only one thing: BRAINS!



Before going into my review for this little ditty, I have to apologize and correct myself for a huge error that was made not too long ago: Unseen Terror was started in 2011, NOT during the year prior to that. How was I able to recall this you may ask? Well, it is because my premiere choice for the very first entry came from Dan O'Bannon's The Return of the Living Dead, a 1985 horror-comedy that is wisely and justifiably adored for its great sense of humor, killer soundtrack, blood/gore, and a very keen ability to not take itself too seriously. So, as luck would have it, I was able to stumble across one of its many sequels from throughout the years. Having also previously seen the follow-up to this picture, but not the actual finished, whole product itself, I felt that a proper viewing was in order. Plus, this is officially my three-hundredth post on here, so I said why the hell not?


I have often heard from fans and critics that the ROTLD series can be categorized as "Punk Rock Zombie" flicks, and after having seen at least three of these pictures, I don't believe that they are completely wrong. In terms of the music department, Part II isn't nearly as impressive as its predecessor, but it does an admirable job at being able to stick out in a sea of sequels with a killer soundtrack, featuring artists like Anthrax and Leatherwolf playing throughout. Tragically, also like the film before it, being able to obtain a cut of the movie with every artist's song featured in the initial theatrical run is nearly impossible thanks to copyright issues, and unless you are willing to settle for the French audio track on the DVD release, you are most likely going to have to track something down at a nearby horror convention. There are also a good number of other technical aspects found throughout this follow-up worth smiling over, including some very colorful gore and the return of the (now) iconic Tarman zombie (though he looks far more comical this time around and gets even less screen time). All of the crew in the makeup department knock it out of the park with some hilariously silly-looking deceased beings, including a woman with worms constantly sticking and wiggling out of her face, and a corpse who gets blasted into two pieces but somehow keeps functioning. Unlike the 1985 release, Part II is definitely played more for laughs, and it comes closer to being lumped into the subgenre known as "comedy-horror" rather than "horror-comedy." "Wait Ryan, what is the difference between those two?" Trust me, if you sit down and watch it yourself, then you shall understand what I'm saying.


Now, while I am absolutely satisfied with the bloodier and louder ends of the spectrum, I would be remiss not to bring up the other aspects of ROTLD Part II. While the creativity behind those in the realm of the undead certainly makes for a memorable experience, other portions of this entry just leave you feeling kind of disappointed. As is the case with most sequels, a majority of this motion picture feels like recycled or redundant material. The most apparent, obvious case of this comes from the casting of James Karen and Thom Mathews as two of our leads. Because it was essentially impossible for their characters from Part 1 to return to the big screen (my apologies for the spoiler), it just feels odd to see them pop back up again, and their new roles feel like carbon copies from that picture in question. Come to think of it, the two even go so far as to make a joke about the similarities and near-duplication towards the middle of its running time, which begs the question of why would you watch this tale instead of its three-year-old ancestor?


Astonishingly, ROTLD Part II is currently sitting at a disastrously-low rating of zero percent on website aggregator Rotten Tomatoes. Perhaps it is the bias of a horror fan that is coming out to say the following, but to imply that this is far worse than something truly wretched like Meet the Spartans or Fantastic Four is just wholly, stupidly wrong. Much like another undeservedly-trashed sequel to a bigger film, it is far from a perfect product (a good half of its cast or crew have been outspoken about their dislike for the picture and feel that it's a blatant cash grab), but it's a watchable sequel with oodles of cheese and enough charm and pizzazz to help it stick a decent landing. I'm uncertain as to how memorable it will be for you in the long run, but for the time being, it is a fairly acceptable way to kill 90 minutes. Currently, the DVD is relatively inexpensive to purchase, and it can be viewed for free if you have a subscription to Starz and/or access to their on-demand library.



So, since this was a follow-up that took me by pleasant surprise, let us see if we can duplicate that magic outside of the realm of zombie movies.......

To say that 1995's Italian production Cruel Jaws makes for a particularly fascinating watch is one colossal understatement. The movie was marketed and released in many areas across the globe as Jaws 5: Cruel Jaws, and reuses themes and footage from a number of other, superior pictures (there's even teases of the beloved theme from Star Wars) involving these killer beasts of the ocean. In fact, for that reason alone, the movie has been extremely difficult to track down and is ineligible for a proper DVD or Blu-Ray release (though there always is the bootleg circuit).

Which leads me to utter the following: I have always been told that if you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all. Of course, that would make me a huge hypocrite given all of the trashing that I have done of lesser flicks from throughout the years, but I really do not care at this point. Regardless, I can comfortably say that the best aspect of the Grade-Z Cruel Jaws (outside of one of the lead actors appearing to be a doppelganger for professional wrestler-turned cultural punchline Hulk Hogan) was that it ended, and was mildly less torturous to watch than Up from the Depths. And even then, I will be debating with myself for a quite a while about such a statement.

....that's it though. No more is being said or typed. Nope. Let's just move on to tomorrow's entry, shall we?

Speaking of that, let's just say that my "theatrical" choice for this year's Unseen Terror was unlike anything that I have ever sat through...

Unseen Terror 2015: Day 11

Alright, I did fall behind just a tad, though only in terms of publishing my final drafts of these reviews. It's been a fairly busy weekend, filled with birthday shenanigans and whatnot. Eh, let's move on though.

As a young child, Gregory Tudor witnesses his local ice cream truck driver being mowed down by mobsters. Many years later, the young man has grown up, having been released from a mental asylum in which he spent the remainder of his youth. In an ironic, yet fitting twist, the former patient takes up the position of the local ice cream man, perusing the neighborhood while handing out tasty treats to multiple, occasionally bratty children. What lies in the back of the truck, however, are some nasty demons that just won't leave poor Gregory alone, leading many of his patrons curious as to why he always seems to be acting so unusual.



Remember when I brought up actor Clint Howard in Day 9's posting? Well, only two years after he became infested with ticks (hehe), he was brought on board to head the cast of a strange little horror-comedy known only as Ice Cream Man, directed by a man whose previous film work came from the classy, charming land of pornographic entertainment. If one were to judge a book/movie by its cover, you'd come to the conclusion that something as absurd-looking as this film's VHS cover art is a sign of the lowest quality possible, coupled with the occasional gross-out scene to help satisfy the horror hounds out there.


Good readers, you would be only partially correct with your final thoughts. This is probably stating the obvious, but Ice Cream Man isn't exactly the finest type of cinematic entertainment out there. And yet, as I shall explain in the best amount of details that I can, it's very endearing for connoisseurs of the often derided "so bad, it's good" category. For starters, Mr. Howard is in rather fine form for a movie about a demented ice cream truck driver. Sure, he's treating it like the B-movie that it is, but from what I gathered, he actually did prepare for his role by yelling and screaming in his car every day, just so he could attempt to perfect a more gravelly, menacing voice for Gregory. Of course, everything else outside of his voice most likely didn't need any work since, well, just look at him. I'm aware that while I previously stated that his entire acting career's purpose past a particular time period was to die on screen, I believe a retraction is in order: his entire purpose is to look like an extremely odd human being, thus being cast as your resident redneck, freak, or societal outcast whenever a part needs to be filled and/or whenever a larger budget isn't at your disposal.


What Ice Cream Man may lack in surprise when it comes to its titular character, it took me back with its supporting cast that was flashed during the opening credits. There is no logical explanation for why Olivia Hussey (Romeo & Juliet, It, Black Christmas), David Warner (Waxwork, Batman: The Animated Series), David Naughton (An American Werewolf In London), and Sandahl Bergman (Conan The Barbarian) show up for more than just cameos. On a more hilarious note, the former two seem to be regarding this as if it were more than just a random bargain bin find, while the latter may have finally found something more embarrassing on her record than Red Sonja. Speaking of the incredibly awkward, I kept scratching my head at all of the peculiar zoom shots and closeups of every person's shoes, even during scenes of peril and mayhem. Much to my amazement, it turns out that Converse (yes, THAT Converse) sponsored Ice Cream Man, therefore every single member of its cast must have been required to flaunt the newest designs from their financial supporters. As amused as I was by the sheer silliness of the entire project, one can't help but feel that this is truly, utterly shameless, and you'll begin to lose count with how many times they focus on the apparel.


Mercifully, with the final fifteen minutes turning into what can only be described as the ultimate form of "Screw it" mode, Ice Cream Man is a stupid, yet shockingly fun trip into the realm of straight-to-video nonsense that most of us should be used to by now (though it seems as if that may have evolved into random rentals from your local Redbox kiosk). Currently, the Clint Howard-led vehicle is out of print on home video as a standalone feature, though copies of it can be purchased on DVD collections alongside other craptacular flicks like Jack Frost 2 (which does NOT warrant a review). It does sadden me to hear that there was a petition and campaign through kickstarter to have a sequel financed and released, but as of October 2015, it seems to be dead in the water. Perhaps this oddity will most likely stay relegated to the land of sites such as Youtube.



Tomorrow, we have this year's first foray into the realm of killer doll movies, but Chucky isn't allowed to play this time....

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 11

When two scuba diving students end up missing, the head diving instructor and her new biochemist boyfriend decide to go in search for them. It doesn't take long for the young couple's whereabouts to be discovered, but their bodies have been horribly mangled, and they seem to be the victim of an aquatic animal attack, specifically something that has been inhabiting a sunken freighter near a Caribbean hotel resort. This "something," it turns out, is a new strain of killer piranha, ones who have gained an ability to fly and glide through the air, making them a threat wherever they may be.


If you're reading that synopsis and wondering "Who in the living hell directed this pile of crap?," well that would be one Mr. James Cameron, thank you very much. One of the most successful and heralded directors of all time, this was the man's first real break in cinema, though he might not acknowledge it as such, and Piranha II has a bit of a messy background for that matter. Cameron was originally hired to do special effects, but was then hired as the actual director for the film once the original director (Miller Drake) left the project. And yet after a small amount of time, Cameron himself was fired and replaced by the Italian producer on the movie itself (Piranha II is a largely Italian-based effort). Yet his name is still credited since they were contractually obligated to have an American be cited as the director. Confusing? Absolutely. Thankfully, the Terminator director doesn't seem embarrassed or angered to talk about this project now these days (unlike David Fincher and Alien 3), referring to it as "the best flying piranha film ever made," so that's good to hear.


All of this being said, Piranha II: The Spawning is an absolute abortion of a movie, and no director in the world could make this movie close to good, or even watchable. Roger Corman's presence was sorely needed here since these filmmakers just have no clue about what they're doing here with the small budget they've been handed, and presumably they blew most of it on booking hotels and getting the women in the movie topless or buying them fancy swimsuits. There's some sort of attempt to try and mix in hammy humor too (I can only guess somebody in Italy loved Animal House or films like it while writing the "script"), but it just proceeds to irritate you more than amuse you and ends up making you wish for a quicker death for everyone involved, be it the characters in the film or those writing the comedy. And don't get me started on the piranha, which were rarely seen in the original outside of flashes here and there, but this time around, these are very obviously props, but entry-level props at best. They look incredibly bad, and while they themselves aren't seen a particularly great amount either, their own presence was sorely needed in order to save me from utter boredom, since we don't get any fatalities outside of the opening sequence until about the 45-50 minute mark.


On the plus side, the soundtrack to Piranha II is actually quite decent, and could work well if this were any other film but this one. This was also the first time, at least to my knowledge, that director James Cameron worked with actor Lance Henriksen, who tries the best with what he has as the irritated ex-husband police officer of the aforementioned diving instructor. This idea isn't honestly terrible either, at least when you consider the other amount of inane, crazy garbage out there that exists in the realm of horror, but the execution is just so awfully done, that it is beyond redemption. It might be best to avoid this one unless you're looking to give yourself a headache.


Besides, it can't be the worst movie out there involving killer piranha, can it?

When a resort owner's daughter and her boyfriend go missing, private investigator Maggie McNamara and local Paul Grogan go on a search for her, stumbling across a seemingly abandoned research facility. While snooping around, they unknowingly unleash a new strain of piranha into the river, endangering the lives of everyone nearby.


As it turns out, Piranha II: The Spawning is indeed the lesser of two evils in this case, but I'm suspecting that my mind may change over time. And by "over time," I mean between approximately one day and one week. 1995's Piranha, as you could probably guess, is a remake of the 1978 film of the same name, and like the original, is also produced by B-movie master Roger Corman. For reasons that I'm still not certain of, but can most likely ascribe to boredom, Roger Corman decided that two of his most beloved films produced during the New World Pictures heyday of the 70s and 80s should be remade for Showtime during the 1990s, the other being Humanoids From the Deep. I was actually considering reviewing the latter for this year's countdown as well, as I have quite the fondness its original as well, but legitimately couldn't track the thing down in time, and decided it wasn't worth my time.


Perhaps one may wonder as to why Roger Corman would even bother going forward with a remake of a film he was fairly proud of producing in the first place, and after finishing this effort (a mere eighty minutes long), all I could ask myself was...why indeed? Why bother sit through this, as it does nothing to improve on the original, and in some ways, actually does many things worse than it? True, you get a few recognizable faces here and there (including a very young Mila Kunis), and the blood & gore makeup effects are almost decent enough to be passable, but so much of the film is littered with stock footage of the original, which is inexplicably lazy by any decade's standards. Piranha's script is nearly word for word a copy and paste of the 1978 version as well, doing a remarkable job of into the territory of insulting, and hurting the overall fun factor. The only real difference I could recall was switching the gender of the main scientist who was experimenting on the fish themselves, and that was completely irrelevant. It is also devoid of nearly any and all humor that Joe Dante's original film had, taking itself far too seriously from the very start.


There isn't anything else to say about 1995's Piranha, besides that at least the women are attractive to look at, and the end credits features a god awful grunge/alt-metal band by the name of Uncle Dog Food playing some song about piranha and how they eat you. Ooh, must've taken you guys weeks to write that little ditty. Speaking of the piranha, remember the sound effects of the original film or two when they were attacking? Well, now they sound like dolphins having sex with eagles when they're in a frenzy. Seriously. Unless you're looking for an expensive coaster, or a nice companion piece to something like Hellraiser: Revelations in your "Let's pretend this doesn't exist" value pack, I don't believe you should waste your time.



Tomorrow, the fishes may have their final say with BARRACUDA!

Unseen Terror 2013: Day 3

On a flight from Los Angeles to Boston, a small group of passengers awake to find that everyone on board, including the flight's own very pilots, have mysteriously vanished. After introducing themselves to one another, and rerouting the aircraft to a new destination, they land in a deserted airport in an attempt to discover the meaning behind why the flight, and seemingly the entire world, is now suddenly desolate.


Three hours. This movie took me THREE HOURS to finish. Mind you, this isn't the fault of the actual quality of The Langoliers, since this adaptation of the Stephen King novella of the same name was originally a miniseries that aired on ABC back in 1995, so I should have expected it to drag for the most part. But my goodness, this does indeed drag quite a bit. During my review of Carrie yesterday, I discussed about how Brian De Palma and company cut out a lot of the fluff from the source material and made a very good product that won nearly universal acclaim. When it comes to this however, well, I'd implore you to read on.


Admittedly, The Langoliers does do a fairly good job at keeping your attention, despite a story that isn't exactly stimulating by any means. I'd attribute that the performances of Dean Stockwell and Bronson Pinchot more than anything else. In another life, I think Stockwell could have played or voiced a fairly fun version of DC Comics' The Question, given his character's penchant for deduction and borderline paranoid delusions and theories. True, a large portion of those do end up coming true, but I digress. Pinchot is another case entirely though. I suspect he seemed to know that he was cast in a made-for-TV miniseries, as he is playing this as over the top as he possibly could, and in the end, he steals nearly every scene that he is in. Hell, even WITH the ridiculous running time this "film" has, he may be enough of a reason for a viewing (example below).

The characters are supposed to be what you take away from this film, be they good or bad, and what most people remember besides Pinchot's disturbed Craig Toomey (whose own tortured psyche was like a dumbed down version of Henry Bowers from It meets Carrie White), is the character of Dinah, played by Kate Maberly. There is no way to not sound like a bully when talking about child actors, so I'll just have to just come out and say it: she is god damn awful here. The only credible thing I can give to her is that she has a good scream. The revelation of her having a special "gift" to make up for her being blind (or is it BECAUSE she is so?) felt like a subplot to another work King was working on that he couldn't quite finish, so he just crowbarred it in here. If he was trying to pay homage to a secret love of Daredevil, this may have worked, but it just seemed ridiculously silly. Others are given a decent amount of time for us to know them, such as British guy, black guy, nerdy guy, and pretty white girl. It almost feels like a Stephen King version of the Breakfast Club, except nowhere near as interesting.


And that brings me to the inevitable final hour of The Langoliers. I suppose that I should expect these type of things given my recent revisit with the 1990 adaptation of It and the ridiculously terrible ending that gave the audience, but there isn't a doubt in my mind that this trumps it six ways from Sunday. I'm not going to spoil it unless you directly ask me, but let's just say that it involves horrendous CGI, Bronson Pinchot screaming horribly, a final thirty minutes that drag on for what feels like an extra hour, and a fairly nice puke-worthy freeze frame shot. From what I gather, they were taking literally every detail from the novella and putting it in this work, but after the revelation of what caused this catastrophe, you just kind of sit around wondering "so can we end this already?" Alas, it doesn't, which brings about that aforementioned final thirty minutes. I expect a little better out of director Tom Holland (Child's Play, Fright Night), but you're also working with a much smaller budget than you would have for cinema and a fairly bland cast. Maybe down the road a "re-imagining" wouldn't hurt. But for now? A recommendation isn't going to come my way unless you're a diehard Stephen King completist.



Tomorrow, Stephen King takes us back in the air with THE NIGHT FLIER!