Friday, October 19, 2018
In honor of the first woman Doctor, Jeff and Scott recruit expert woman Mary C to give the woman's point of view on womaning. Then they try to figure out why Venom sucked so bad, and why they loved it so much.
It's The Woman Who Fell to Earth versus The Parasite That Fell to Earth, so grab your headphones and your umbrella and listen to things go SPLAT!
Monday, October 8, 2018
By Hank Parmer
The Frozen Dead (1966)
In the decades after WWII, fictional plots to revive the Third Reich were a pop culture staple. Some of these, like The Quiller Memorandum (1966) made for decent thrillers, and at least the genre went out on a fairly high note with The Boys from Brazil (1978). But the idea that somewhere Hitler's surviving henchmen were still secretly planning a comeback also spawned several lesser cinematic efforts during the mid-20th Century, some of them -- like The Madmen of Mandoras (AKA They Saved Hitler's Brain) and The Yesterday Machine -- extremely lesser.
Even though the title sounds like it could be the name of a stoner cover band from the Great White North, or a Disney sequel gone hideously wrong, The Frozen Dead is a cut above those last two films. But that's setting the bar so low a flatworm would be hard pressed to limbo under it.
The movie certainly has all the right ingredients for a cheese-fest: Walk-in freezers full of Nazis; botched experiments on human guinea pigs; a head kept alive in a box. All this, and a well-known leading man of the 1940s and 50s discovering his talent doesn't extend to faking an accent. At least they can sincerely say it wasn't typecasting, when they tapped Dana Andrews to play a Nazi expatriate and mad scientist.
Andrews had turned in some fine performances in The Best Years of Our Lives, Laura and The Oxbow Incident. And it took some guts for such a reputedly straight arrow to do that cameo as a corrupt Air Force general, in the criminally underrated The Loved One. By the mid-Sixties, though, age and alcoholism had restricted the range of roles he was being offered.
The Frozen Dead opens on a promisingly eerie note, with a half moon riding high above the treetops in the inky night sky. The silence is broken by an anguished cry, a low moan rising to an inhuman howl.
Could this mean a rare demi-werewolf is prowling about? No, it's just one of a half-dozen guys clad in the soiled, tattered remnants of Wehrmacht and SS uniforms. An individual in civilian attire smacks the noisy one repeatedly across the face with the butt of his whip, until he stops howling.
Worst. Theme. Spa. Ever.
Twitching, gibbering and groaning, the group shuffles across the lawn of a country estate. I do believe these guys aren't quite right in the head; one of them is even in handcuffs. Finished with their walkies, their attendant, Karl Essen, shoves and flogs the loonies through a wrought iron gate and down some steps, while Joseph the butler watches impassively from a second-story window.
In his basement bunker -- er, laboratory, Dr. Norberg (Dana Andrews, and I'm telling you right now there will be no O. J. Simpson/Police Squad riffs) establishes his scientific bona fides by fiddling with some equipment. He's joined by Karl for a round of "Who can recite the most awkward expository dialog?"
General Lubeck is dropping by. And he's unusually late, a whole ten minutes! While they wait, Norberg is thawing out another subject, who's been frozen for the last twenty years. I dunno, you could be looking at substantial freezer burn with this one. Wait a second: 1965 minus 20 -- I think these chaps might be up to something dubious, possibly involving Germans and the end of World War II.
Clean 'em up a bit and stick some MAGA hats on them, and these Nazi loons would fit right in at one of our home-grown fascist rallies. In more ways than oneIt's a tough call, but Dana Andrews ekes out a win in the dueling exposition with extra points awarded for his completely unconvincing accent. Be that as it may, the Herr Doktor isn't overly optimistic about his chances for reviving this one with his wits intact, considering how the last seven subjects turned out. Oh, I get it: Those are the whacked-out wretches we saw at the beginning. Although Norberg really shouldn't be such a Gloomy Gus: Clean 'em up a bit and stick some MAGA hats on them, and these Nazi loons would fit right in at one of our home-grown fascist rallies. In more ways than one.
But there were only six of those guys. Who's number seven? Fortunately, this considerate scriptwriter immediately relieves us of any anxiety on that score, when Karl objects that Joseph the butler was a semi-success. Sure -- as long as you overlook the fact he's now a creepy mute.
Norberg is suspicious about the timing of the General's visit. He coolly informs Karl he's known all along that ever since he was assigned to the doctor at the end of the war, his assistant has been snitching on him to their higher-ups in the Party. Still, he's annoyed at Karl for going behind his back to the general and telling him they're ready.
But meanwhile, they have a body to reanimate. Norberg orders Karl to fetch Muller from the freezer and hook him up to the apparatus.
Three little maids from schooool!
If you look closely, you can see these frozen Nazis are being held upright by calipers, with the points jammed into their ears. Looks pretty painful for those extras.
General Lubeck (Karel Stepanek -- a Czech actor who at the time was the go-to guy for portraying high-ranking Nazi officers, such as the fanatical Admiral Lutjens in Sink the Bismarck) arrives, with his gaunt, quietly intimidating companion, Dr. Tirpitz. The two are shown down to the cellar lab by Norberg's zombie-fied retainer.
Lubeck reveals why this demonstration is so important: There are over fifteen hundred of the Nazi elite, quick-frozen at the end of the war and stashed away in Germany, France and even Egypt, just waiting to be thawed out and reanimated so they can get back to conquering the world. (It must have been the B-list Nazis who wound up taking the rap at Nuremberg.)
Considering it's taken the Herr Doktor all of two decades to get to this point, this willingness to stick with the project shows a remarkable degree of patience on the part of his masters, a quality you rarely associate with National Socialist big-wigs. The electricity bill alone for all those freezers must be astronomical! Especially the ones in Egypt.
And another thing: Why do these crypto-Nazi schemes to resurrect the Third Reich always sound as if they were devised by the Underpants Gnomes? Seriously, what does this fiendish plan amount to:
1. Defrost 1500+ elite Nazis
3. World Conquest!
It's not like I'm expecting the general to provide a detailed scenario (although, given this script, it's not outside the bounds of possibility) but you have to wonder how effective these revenants will be. Even assuming the Herr Doktor ultimately works the kinks out and they'll be capable of more advanced tasks than sitting in a closet and drooling into a shoe, the guys will have quite a bit of catching up on current events to do. And then there's the inevitable jealousy and back-biting from the conspirators who haven't been on ice for the last twenty years.
Friday, October 5, 2018
Somehow I've gotten on the National Rifle Association's mailing list, which is evidently a pretty easy thing to do; in fact, it took no effort on my part whatsoever. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and was struck by a stray missive fired off by Wayne LaPierre (literally, "Wayne the Peter"), who was furiously exercising Amendment Number One because he loves Number Two.
This has been the toughest year that gun owners have ever faced.
I understand gun victims also had occasion for complaint this year, but hey, they got what they had coming (bullets, apparently).
Radical gun-hating extremists have called us vile names
But names can never hurt you, Wayne! Okay, theoretically I suppose they could hurt your feelings, if you ever decided to develop any, but let's not get lost in wild hypotheticals.
But rather than take the easy path and give up the fight, you've stood tall with me and the NRA every step of the way.Wayne's made-up version of me sounds so cool and heroic I almost hate to break it to him...
And as an extra way to thank you for your extraordinary commitment to freedom, I'd like to invite you to enter for YOUR chance to WIN in our NRA Banned Guns Giveaway!
That's right. While Chuck Schumer and Nancy Pelosi are trying to ban our guns, NRA is giving guns away – 12 world-class firearms that are sure to turn heads at the range and become the pride of any gun owner's collection.This is a bit like those old entry packets Publishers Clearing House used to send, the ones with Ed McMahon's face declaring "You May Already Be a Winner!" You might, I suppose, although opening that envelope was far more likely to net you a paper cut than a million dollars. By the same token, Wayne (standing in for Ed's disembodied head) is offering me a chance to increase my chance of accidental death 7 times!
Entering is fast and easy. You can enter to win just one of these great guns, two guns, or even all 12 guns – the choice is yours.Only you know how tired you are of living. Or how scared you are of dying. That's why we recommend use of the patented Old Man River Scale®.
The great thing about this metric -- from Wayne's perspective, at least -- is that whenever the slider reaches 75% on either side of the scale, you're more likely to buy a gun.
No contribution is necessary to enter, however "with the most critical mid-term elections of our lives less than seven weeks away, NRA needs your support more than ever before."NRA went on a bit of a spree in 2016, spending $54.4 million on Republican candidates and dropping over $31 million on Trump, but apparently from an insufficient height. And for whatever mysterious, ultimately unknowable reason (the black guy is gone) the NRA has fearmongered to diminishing returns these past two years, with member dues "plummeting".
And it's probably worse than reported, because I suspect (based on purely anecdotal, but extremely irritating information) that a lot of the "Life Members" on the NRA's roster are in fact participating under false pretenses, because they're dead.
After his father -- a Life Member of the NRA -- passed away, my step-brother Miles asked that Dad's membership be cancelled, by which he meant "stop sending all these goddamn fundraising letters because you're not getting another dime out of anyone in this house! In fact, I go to the trouble of writing 'Forget It' and sending back the enclosed envelope just so you get charged for the postage!"
Despite this air-tight reasoning NRA refused to comply, implicitly laying perpetual claim to any soul who signs their book (which now that I think about it is exactly how Satan acts in any film or story where someone makes a deal with the Devil, then gets cold feet). And you can see their point, because donations to the NRA depend on results, results depend on influence, and raw political muscle depends on sheer numbers, so naturally they'll do anything to inflate their rolls, even if the actual breakdown is something like "1.8 million Active Members; 2.2 million Auxiliary Members; 2.3 million Horizontal Members".
If they win, Schumer and Pelosi will move forward with an extremist anti-gun agenda that will rip the heart right out of our Second Amendment rights – including gun registration and gun-owner licensing…JAMES MADISON: "When we said 'a well-regulated militia', we didn't mean go crazy and have, like, paperwork..."
The NRA is working 24/7 to get our message to gun-owning voters and STOP a gun-ban takeover of Congress. But to continue reaching out to American gun owners until the moment the polls close, we need your immediate financial support.No, no, no, you've got this extortion thing all wrong! You don't say "I'm going to be a personal nuisance to you for the next 30 days, and I need your money to pull it off!" You say you'll do all that stuff "unless you pay me!" Hearing that you're planning to hassle me from now until Election Day and then every day thereafter because when have you ever stopped ever, whether I give you money or not so I might as well give you money, does not properly incentivize me, Wayne! I realize that's how negotiations work in The Art of the Deal, but here in the non-ghostwritten world, you gotta give Daddy a little something if you want that sugar.
That's why – even though it's not required and won't increase your chances of winning – I'm asking you to contribute $5 to NRA for each of the guns you enter to win in our giveaway.See, that's exactly what I told you not to do, Wayne. It's almost like, despite all the times I've stood tall with you and not taken the easy way, you don't really respect me.
Please enter today for your chance to win – and to help stop a gun-ban landslide on Election Day that could cost us our FREEDOM!BUZZZ!
ALEX TREBEK: Returning champion, Scott Clevenger.
SCOTT: What is "Things Ted Nugent would say while free-styling during a duet with Stevie Nicks"?
Thanks again for standing with me every single day of this fight.I will stand by you as I have always stood by you, Wayne. Which is to say, slightly off to the left, wearing an expression of studied innocence and an "I'm With Stupid" t-shirt.
Sunday, September 30, 2018
Saturday, September 15, 2018
I suppose this happens to everyone from time to time, but living in Hollywood, it seems to happen to me all the time. You know the feeling: you just need ten gallons of Regular, a caffeine-free Diet Dr Pepper, and a box of Twizzlers, but while you're fumbling for your debit card a rave breaks out in front of the mini-mart, and the next thing you know, you're waking up disoriented in the Cool Tent.
MOONDOGGIE: What? It's Caturday?! I better get up and start bringin' the kawaii, or I'll get totally stiffed by Japanese YouTubers! Again!
SHADOW: No, honey, stay in bed...
MOONDOGGIE: We're on top of the couch.
SHADOW: Stay...on couch.
MOONDOGGIE: But Caturday--!!
SHADOW: Don't be fooled by the hype, Orange Guy. It's just another made-up Hallmark holiday like Boss's Day, or World Nutella Day, or German Apples Day--
MOONDOGGIE: Don't you be dissing Tag des Deutschen Apfels!
MOONDOGGIE: If the Germans hear about your potty mouth, they might refuse to honor my gift card to Wienerwald!