"Pod People"
It isn't often that we get four, yes
*four* movies for the price of one, as we do with 'Pod People',
a Rhino release that was silently, in the dead of night, delivered
to video stores outside Weenimucka, Utah, and has been metastasizing
ever since. Of course, it takes us loyal Msties four times as
long for our brain waves to resynchronize, but what the heck.
It's still better than getting a tongue transplant without anesthetic.
Firstly, the opening and closing credits appear to be outtakes
of 'Creature From the Black Lagoon Pledges Sigma Chi', but it's
hard to tell as the entire thing is filmed off of reflective naugahyde
in thrilling Basement-O-Vision.
Next, the classic alien invasion story. A giant IMac mouse falls
to earth, turning suburban Naples a nice shade of blueberry, and
proceeds to grow and glow across the entire spectrum. Obviously
we were watching an Apple commercial.
But, before Stephen Jobs can take over the world, two poachers
(Lorne Green, Kenny Loggins) arrive to bag his ass, while munching
barbequed forest critters and molesting every passing female jogger.
Sort of 'The Anti-Bonanza'.
Our third story is a real heart-warmer, in case you've toppled
onto the heating vent by now. Little Tommy (Katie Couric), who
enjoys watching caged vermin wither and die, and tip-toes through
the forest collecting bug scat, stumbles across a floor lamp sanctuary.
After proper incubation, one of them hatches into Tommy's best
friend, a dream come true for the lonely little tyke, the only
child of a reclusive liquor wholesaler. As you can imagine, his
new friend, resembling either a Chia-snorkel or Gary Oldman rolled
in compost, is hidden in hallways and closets, until pretty soon
we're watching 'National Lampoon's The Shining'.
Lastly, but unfortunately not leastly, we meet the Aryan Pringles'
Kids (Bobby Ewing, the cast of 'Scream'). These giggling manic-depressive
singers jump into a Winnebago and tour the ski-runs of Lower Bavaria
while tossing each other out as ballast. They also prey on sedentary
locals, forcing peasants to endure their latest hit, 'Burning
Rubber Tires' while getting poked in the eye with twigs.
Each of these stories ends on an ambiguous note, inspiring Cambot
to drop acid, the SOL to break into more musical numbers than
a Mickey Rooney revival, as Deep 13 revels in evading copyright
laws. The entire experience is like being taken hostage on Planet
Claymation, but the continuous eye exam was worth it ('Is this
blurrier? How 'bout this?').