Chopper Chicks in Zombietown

Four of the self-described Cycle Sluts.

So, um, yeah. Chopper Chicks in Zombietown. This is one of those Troma movies whose title is better than anything in the movie. And like most of what Troma shovels out, it's actively trying to be so-bad-it's-good (at least I hope it is), which is never a good thing.

The Cycle Sluts, headed by Jamie Rose (who had her own short-lived Dirty Harriet show Lady Blue) and Catherine Carlen (giving the best performance as the self-professed bull-dyke leader), ride into a town where the creepy coroner (Don Calfa of Return of the Living Dead, reviewed here by my brother in B-movies yendi) is implanting batteries into dead people to turn them into zombies.

Why? I don't know.

I also don't know why there's no nudity to be found anywhere in this thing, except for a shot of Don Calfa's ass. If you're going to have chopper chicks — named the Cycle Sluts — gratuitous T&A is almost mandatory, no? If only so that we can laugh at how gratuitous it is.

The packaging makes much of Billy Bob Thornton's appearance, which lasts maybe ten minutes. Hal Sparks is also in it as one of the blind students imperilled by zombies. Martha Quinn is supposedly in it, but I didn't spot her.

You can't make fun of the damn thing, because it's Troma; it's not trying to be anything other than the weak cheesefest it is. It certainly never scales the heights of exploitation heaven, either. It's just unfunny comedy, unconvincing biker-chick fights, and unconvincing zombie gore.
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    bored bored

It has been decided.

Well, looks like you sadistic bastards want me to suffer through Chopper Chicks in Zombietown. So: Chopper Chicks in Zombietown it shall be.

However, if you feel really really strongly about another movie on the poll, it's not too late! Keep voting and perhaps you'll unseat Chopper Chicks in Zombietown. The poll will remain open until midnight tonight.

EDIT: Aaaand it's still Chopper Chicks in Zombietown.
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And what better way to begin a new year of cinemaeater than with...THE LIVING DEAD?

Which zombie movie shall you inflict on me?

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Crappy (movie) new year!

Hey, y'all.

I dunno if murnkay is into re-animating this thing of ours — he's too busy writing about zombies and hawks with pigeon slippers — but I kinda wanna kick-start it again.

What do you think? Weekly bad-movie reviews from yours truly? A return to the poll format wherein you vote on which horrible movie I sit through?

Reveal this to me in comments.
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goth angel

Snakes. On a plane.

Saw it last night. Will weigh in with a detailed rave later.

What you need to know, aside from that it's a fuckin' fun movie, is that it utterly must be experienced on opening weekend with the biggest, snarkiest audience you can see it with. Don't wait for DVD. Don't fuck around with a matinee. Go Friday or Saturday night. Order the tickets online, do what you have to do. But if you aren't seeing it with a huge, eager audience, you're not getting the full Snakes on a Plane experience.

Our audience? Not as packed as I would've liked. But when they applauded and hooted when the title came on the screen, I knew we were with the right kind of audience. And by the time Sam Jackson got around to saying the mighty line of dialogue, it was just...audience magic.
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bean farmer extreme

Snakes on a Plane: the phenomenon

You've been there:

You hear a band. Either at a grungy dive or on a CD foisted on you by a friend who insists you listen to it. You fall in love with the band's sound.

Then everyone else discovers the band. Frat boys, pretentious posers, people you hate. Suddenly the band isn't cool anymore.

They're the same band. They're still making music you enjoy (let's assume they don't hitch onto a major label and completely change their style). But you no longer want to be in the fan club. You don't want to be lumped in with these Johnny-come-lately asshole fans.

Which brings me to Snakes on a Plane.

We've been hearing about it for roughly a year now. Between the title and the involvement of He Who Says Motherfucker, it caught on and it caught on huge. We've seen the Internet cult grow around it in a way that's pretty much unprecedented. It's not a sequel, not based on anything else, didn't previously have a built-in audience. This was word-of-mouth like whoa.

Sometime this summer? Maybe you got sick of hearing about it.

Now it's ten days before showtime, and, yeah, you're pretty fucking sick of hearing about it. New Line knows what they have, and they are pimping it like whoa. You can have Samuel L. Jackson call your friend with a reminder to go see the movie, and shit like that. (I actually kinda hope this catches on and Nic Cage has to record something inviting your friend to go spend two hours buried alive with him in World Trade Center.)

Not only that, all the assholes now want to see it. Not for the right reasons, but because it's what's cool on the Internet and everyone's talking about it. You don't wanna be associated with these assholes. You don't wanna be in the same theater as these assholes. You don't wanna even go see the movie now.

But it's the same movie.

It's probably going to suck. But it's probably going to suck in an amusing, self-aware way. You knew that right from Jump Street. And there's probably going to be some sort of half-assed honor in the way it just is what it is. It's snakes. On a plane.

We all originally adored the idea of the movie for that very reason. There's a plane. And there are snakes on it. And Sam Jackson is in it. And there ya go. Simplicity.

So my advice is to ignore all the hype, all the assholes now clamoring to see it who didn't even know it existed a year ago, and go see Samuel L. Jackson bust a cap in some motherfucking snakes. Because that's what it's always been about.
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