Now, I could have just reviewed another movie from 1997, but nooooo!
I have many habits, most of which you likely don't want to know about. No, scratch that, you defiantly don't want to know about them, so let's just leave this tangent right here, mmmkay? Mmmkay. However, you must know about one of those habits, as it is through the habit that I met Track of the Moon Beast.
The habit I speech of is my way of taping everything on TV. If I'm not within twenty feet of the tube, you can bet your ass that there's a tape in that VCR. And so, late in the night on some network whose name I have forgotten (no free press on this web site. . . well, maybe in the Letters section, but other then that . . .) a tape gleefully recorded Track of the Moon Beast. I originally planed to simply record over this thing because of my Firm Belief (which we'll get to in a moment), but figured What the hell, eh? We need more movies from the 70s anyway.
Someone spiked my drink supply. Yes, that has to be it. It's the only explanation for such a titanic failure of common since.
Then again, maybe I'm just mad. Eh, who are we to decide such things? Shoot 'em all, let God sort 'em out, that's what my pal Duke Nukem always says.
Expecting the worst, I was surprised to find . . . the worst. Well, not really, it isn't the worst movie I've seen, but it is quite down there, trust me. Track of the Moon Beast, in short, is the heart warming tail of a guy trying to get laid by a blonde chick, only to turn her off by turning into a ravenous, flesh eating monster. I hate it when that happens. Ladies, you have to realize that we men do get a little out of control at times. With the proper care and tending, however, we can grow and expand to become great and noble beings, worth of space between your legs. Kind of like dogs.
Maybe those feminists were right: men are dogs! Wow! Great philosophical moment, there.
You're damned right I'm stalling! I don't want to remember this movie's plot, I already had to live through it once. Of course, how else will I warn you about its odiousness? Okay, here we go. . .
The horny guy I mentioned is named Paul (Chase Cordell), a scientist/geek who couldn't get a date if he had a calendar tattooed on his palm. The chick is named Kathy (Donna Leigh Drake) and she's about as dumb as they get, without being from Arkansas. I swear (constantly), her brain was removed and replaced with bubble rap. The two are miss matched by Paul's bud, Professor Johnny Longbow (Gregorio Sala). I don't think I trust myself to comment on that name. I want to maintain some level of decency.
So Paul and Brainless go out on a date. A date which ends abruptly when Paul is hit in the head with a meteorite. Now, any woman with a brain would take this as some kind of bad sign. Ya think? Perhaps? But, this is Kathy we're talking about here. And hey, she doesn't know that the rock imbedded in Paul's skull will turn him into a monster, now does she?
Um hmm, that's the plot. A falling space rock to the skull causes an archeologist to turn into a blood thirsty reptilian monster when the sun goes down. Sound like a Werewolf story to you, too?
At least Track uses an original idea, rather then running out of the morgue with the same dead plot idea and throwing it on the front porch.
Originality is all that keeps this movie from slipping below the beltway. You see, Paul is the latest incantation of a monster which has stalked the Native American tribes of the southwest for generations. Sounds cool, huh? Too bad the guy who wrote this was a third grader. Thanks to William (pull my) Finger and Charles Sinclair this pretty decent idea is run aground faster then an Exxon tanker. As if that wasn't bad enough, we have to listen to Johnny Long Bow (must . . .resist. . . bit dick joke!) spout the entire Indian Legend in his very low, emotionless, baritone voice. So low and emotionless in fact, that I hoped to be lulled into sleep and would be sparred the rest of this fracas.
Stupid caffeine.
Am I saying that these two are talentless hacks? No. I don't half to, the fact that these two have written a whoping total of 5 movies (one of which is The Green Slime) should speek for itself.
Which actor haven't I dissed yet? Oh yes, Paul. I've got two words for you, pal: Olivier Gruner. Do you know him? He's the leading man of Nemesis and you know what? He's a better actor then you'll ever be, buddy.
Just incase you're interested, Paul dies. He is gunned down by some cheesy looking video effects. The end.
What's that Firm Belief I mentioned? Quite simple, really. For the longest time it has been my firm belief that (except for Halloween,Star Wars and maybe The Parallax View) nothing good came out of Hollywood in the 1970s.
I know, as Firm Beliefs go this one isn't exactly "Killing people is morally wrong," but what I got.
And Track of the Moon Beast proves it.
RATING (OUT OF A POSSIBLE FIVE)
I HATE THE 70S ALMOST AS MUCH AS I HATE THE 50S
