A Gentleman’s Introduction:
I’ll defend Roger Corman in most instances. I might even be persuaded to lift a weapon in his honor should a skirmish arise relating to the global significance of Humanoids from the Deep. There are worse causes. And Corman is that rare and splendid blend of neuromancer and two-bit thief in the night.
But on this day I must simply shake my finger at the man. It’s one thing to ride the spiny ass of Alien with a cheap dick impostor or two. But once you dip into the well three or four times (at least), sometimes with the same sets and hardware, it’s time to find another coattail to build a nest upon. Though I found fun to be had in the Galaxy of Terror/Forbidden World package, this one is sixty tons of batshit in a paper bag.
The Terror Within is a nutty and useless ‘Shitty Alien Hating a Crew’ jaunt with a baffled and ashamed George Kennedy and the wafer-thin talent that is Andrew Stevens (who I must admit shares a lot of physical similarities with the beloved Nathan Fillion) trying to hold the fort and Dead Space is basically Forbidden World with Marc Singer and Space’s Worst Robot in lieu of whatever dogshit actors Forbidden World had.
Both are films that subbed California and a warehouse for deep space and futuristic star crafts filled to the brim with the worst stuff money wasn’t spent to buy. Enjoy!
Advantage: The Terror Within by a landslide.
Getting To Know Our Stars:
Advantage: Marc Singer (Alive).
BUT… Marc Singer was The Beastmaster. George Kennedy called his sandwich making hand The Beastmaster. It’s a tough battle, but being alive has its benefits as Marc Singer can surely attest. George Kennedy is playing Pick up Styx, so he loses. But barely. If Marc Singer got pneumonia and died tomorrow, I envision George Kennedy coming back hard with a revisionist ass kicking.
Actor’s Name to Symbolic Image Ratio.
Advantage: Terri & Trees.
The Lameness of the Beast.
Advantage: The Terror Within.
Tie-Ins To Other, Better Movies.
Advantage: The Black Hole.
Advantage: The Terror Within
Advantage: Dead Space
Granted, this screen shot was taken from a moment before he was commanded by his director to look aroused around a woman in blue spandex. All the exercise in the world cannot prepare one for 80’s broads.
A Gentleman’s Closing:
Watching these movies cut my sinew quick and clean. I sagged and stared
blankly at the screen free of energy and hope. My diminished form ebbed
away thoughts of warmth and each badly executed scare sent waves of
guilt up and down my urethra. Each unconvincing effect [of which every
effect is] cracked an egg in my ass. Every minute of screentime
featuring a character searching or doing useless space chores insulted
not only my intelligence but my empathy, height, water retention, and
ability to shop for groceries.
Luckily, I look for that in films. In summation, I recommend these
films. Not really, but there are certain expectations when it comes to
Roger Corman “produced” flicks like this and if you are to be surprised
by them its when one of them actually turns out good.