Meadhall of the Comitatus

One dark and stormy September night, Ozmodeus and Usurper and I were in attendance for a bitchin’ “Phantasm Review” party to make the rest of you finally appreciate just how awesome Phantasm is, because you know you would never do it correctly on your own. But the foul Fu Schnickens, forever envious of all who share in Horrorama, sneaked a gremlin into Usurper’s fancy DVD player, such that his British discs were only so many 2D Spheres. Rushing to help, Ozmodeus then hooked up his mighty PS3 to discover in horror that his machine too was completely beschnickened.

Please understand the full significance of how metaretarded this title is.

It was then that I laughed at their far superior technology, holding aloft my trusty $12.99 K-Mart Horror Six Pack, writhing with the wonders within. Then, ah, they forced me to watch the most boring goddamn thing in there. “It’s Howling,” I told Oz, “I know you’ve seen this before.” “No, dude!” Oz said, waiting a full ten minutes before saying “Ohhh yeah, I DID see this. This is the one with–” Yeah I know! I see it every damn year on cable! All my arguments against watching this fell quite short, so I contented myself with taking the minutes, all stultifying 94 of them. Now begins the part of the review where I move on from blaming my guests for a hilarious evening to blaming the movie for saving us from what could have been a memorable night of Rochambeau.

No One Indulges This Premise: 2/5

Here the movie took the right turn in the road and avoided becoming Manos: The Hands of Fate, earning it 10/10 stars. Shoulda quit while it was ahead.

All right, first off, Clive Turner (see our pride and joy, the Howling 7: New Moon Rising review, which I will keep linking you to until I am dead) wrote the screenplay and story, so it’s a cinch that you’re in for awfully vague werewolf danger in an awfully small town. Marie (Romy Windsor, who we voted in as a ’Nottie’–more on this later) is a successful author who’s been institutionalized for seeing ghost nuns in the initial 10 minutes of the movie. Naturally she decides to trip out to the village of Drakho, which looks to be hugging the border what with its adobe buildings: “Remember the Alamo.” –Oz. Her skeevy boyfriend Richard (Michael Weiss, also known as TV’s The Pretender) comes with, rankling at the occasional presence of Marie’s literary agent Tom (some guy who looks like Dolph Lundgren but isn’t), who Ozmodeus quiuckly nicknamed “Chad Nightley.” Together, they meet town notables such as “the xenophobic cop” and “the lesbian who moves the exposition along.” Anyhoo, Drakho has a werewolf prowling around that eats the stray dog or hiker couple, as well as infrequently reminding the movie what the hell it should stay focused on. This, as well as the seasonal dead nuns that always manage to get inside your cabin, makes Marie’s dementia flare up again, and soon she’s in tightly-emoted, wooden hysterics. Her man Richard takes this opportunity to poke his eyes out with the town witch’s nipples before he’s bitten by the aforementioned werewolf. Then all hell breaks loose in the final quarter-hour of the movie, because time sure was a-wastin’ getting us there!

The Cast Was Thoroughly Stoned: 2/5

I want you to hear it, too: "NYYYYYAAOOOAASSSHHHLLLLAAAAPP!!"

“Your shoulder pads are so soft and huge,” quips Usurper as Romy power-walks out the elevator. A lengthy debate was then instigated by my wondering aloud whether Romy Windsor is a Hottie Or Nottie, leading Ozmodeus to formulate Marie’s skull-to-hair ratio at 60%, while our admin labeled her as “frumpy-fresh.” Admitting defeat, I noted, “She looks like someone who would be highly prized by cults.” Looking over my notes here, this comment strikes me as too funny to have been my own, so I hope it wasn’t a brain-shard from MST3K. But I’d been drinking. The Romy Warz concluded, we fell upon the remainder of the cast for being just competent enough to draw their pay. Weiss spends the movie mimicing Swayze and sporting visorlike eyebrow hair, and the cop I called “Sherriff Capote,” has an effeminate voice somewhat at odds with his constant disliking of your type. Oz, ever on the hunt for the perpetrators of cinematic crimes, spotted a cameo of Clive Turner himself (did I just say that? wow, sure did) as the “Tow Truck Driver,” a role we found far superior to his leading role in Howling 7: New Moon Rising. No musical zippers, no dick jokes, just right.

Technically, We Didn’t Mind The FX: 3/5

Who let a significant chunk of the dogs out?!

Well, there’s Pierre’s severed head over there. That doin’ anything for ya?

Oz and I were sufficiently impressed by the werewolf transformation scene (once the movie finally gimps up to it in the last half-hour), which was fairly painstaking and original. The screaming badguy dissolves into a puddle of fleshy goo to slowly emerge as a werewolf, the implication being that his soul is now in the service of the Devil. No, you don’t get to see it; it’s something you have to earn just like we did. The real pity here is that you hardly see any wolfmen at all in this movie, just a few big doggies loping around at the end. What a waste of creativity. There literally is nothing else of any note in this category–for example, one of the ’effects’ involves dishes falling…all by themselves! “Poltergeist werewolves,” explained Oz. But the werewolf shapeshifting was cool, and certainly what everyone came to see, as opposed to the blatant product placement of Marlboro and Coca-Cola, or imaginary dead ghost nuns. You know the ones.

Movie, No One Likes You: 1/5

You think Oz likes soft porn witch movies? Wait ’till you see ME like soft porn witch movies!

Oz: (voted 2 stars overall) “We don’t need the first half of the movie at all. It’s so godawfully boring.”

Usurper: (same) “Agreed.” He then fell asleep, a telling argument.

Furor: (voted 2 1/2 stars) “You’re right, but at least there’s meat at the end, and stuff keeps happening, or at least has the decency to act like something just happened. Oh, you just outvoted me? Okay.”

As you can infer, this one’s a slow-roaster. Howling 4 has the worst use of ghosts on record, a shamefully low bodycount of 2 plus a dog for much of its length (movie, check nuts before you step to 3 Hallowarriors!) and precious few werewolves to help pass the time. Even The Beast Must Die! was a far more entertaining werewolf movie than this one could even hope to be, and that is a sorry statement to have to make about anything. Adding the last drop of insult to injury, allow me to finish by presenting the remnants of our little Quote Pool:

Chad Nightley on the phone in his office: “Can’t talk now, honey, I’m busy banning Fallout 3.” –Oz

“Remember the Alamo.” –Oz, about 1500 times, until it assumed genuinely humorous proportions

Chad Nightley meeting with the lesbian at her hotel room: “I followed the purple triangles to your door.” –Usurper

“I wish I was in the Quote Pool too.” –Anonymous

“Schluuuuuuuuuup!” –the sound the movie kept emitting. Quoted for truth.