Another amazingly inept, woeful, howl inducing horror outing from producer William Mishkin and anti-genius Andy Milligan - again set in a big house, and again stuffed full of people unable to spell the word ‘acting’ let alone carry it out. Surprisingly, this could be Milligan’s most competent film. It actually has dialogue you can hear, kooky music and a start and an ending with - get this - a plot jammed in between - sort of.
Some films inspire people to do things. At their best, they can inspire deep feelings, heartfelt actions, and art beyond the film itself.
Beyond the Lost World might actually accomplish some of these things, but not because it sets out to do so. No, it might inspire feelings, but they'll probably be rage or depression. It might inspire actions, such as throwing your copy of the film on a roaring fire. And it might inspire art, but only because a viewer will think “Jesus, I can make something better than this movie.”
Looking for the worst Christmas special of all time? I can't say for sure that Santa and the Ice Cream Bunny is that film but if there's something worse I don't want to know about it. It's worse than the Star Wars Holiday Special, and I don't say that lightly. Some evil bastard must have thought this would be a great way to get kids to commit suicide for the holidays; forcing them to watch this should be considered child abuse.
AKA: Zombie Rival: The Super Ninja Master, here’s some incredibly awful super-crap that’ll have you popping corn in hysterics and just one of 1000’s of movies (probably) shat out by Hong Kong producers Joseph Lai and Betty Chan in conjunction with the insane Godfrey Ho.
Boasting “AMAZING ANIMATED SPECIAL EFFECTS!” (at least that’s what the box says), Actium Maximus is a compelling sci-fi socio-political drama with lots of awesome goop-drooling space monster puppets in a land of model cities blue-screened badly behind people running around dressed in goofy alien masks. It’s an intense tale of intrigue played out with space triceratopses that walk as deftly as the battery-operated Spydor toy that my Skeletor action figure used to ride and a megalomaniacal talking box with eyes—the Grand Automaton PolPox—and his army of hovering stalagmites with tentacles.
Normally, I’ll give any $4 crock of D.I.Y shot-on-video horror flik the vast benefit of the doubt and press play to see what the deal is, but this… pitiful lump of Texan, no budget, living dead poo from ‘Cemetery Cinema’ made me wanna’ press eject within minutes. Ok, I know it’s not intended to be high art, or even basic trash, and it’s obviously a labor of love made by friends, but god damnit, there’s only so much footage of the same 10 zombies coughing up ketchup any mere mortal can withstand.
Low budget, filmed in New Orleans monster laughs starring screenwriter Billy Holliday, Chuck Long and Chuck Bush in a pile of slimy swamp trash that opens with creature POV, an asthma attack, a spot of wildlife, some Jaws (74) music and a ridiculous gory murder.