ZekeyLizard
05-01-2006, 07:55 PM
I figured someone might enjoy these.
Here they are in a tinier font so as not to damage the eyes:
The Movie Reptilicus starts off with a bunch of clean-shaven gangly “miners” mining away at some sort of hole. Why are they making a hole? Who cares! Its what happens next that gets this film off on the wrong foot.
A Yelp Of Dismay comes from the miners. The giant corkscrew machine has come out of the ground and GASP there appears to be a roast turkey smeared on its end. The Turkey is supposed to be the flesh of Reptilicus who, luckily, is buried under the ground, and apparently hasn’t rotted despite being 360million years old. Smart. So, the miners toss the turkey flesh into a wheelbarrow and go about their business as if nothing happened. Then the camera pans down and we see that the Turkey is pulsating!!!! Dear Lord!!!! Not Pulsating Turkey!!!! Whatever shall mankind do?
Then, the corniest beginning to a film ever as the words “Reptilicus” leap from the Turkey flesh.
What transverses next is a mish-mash of random events that leads us to the first main setting of the film.
A laboratory of some sort.
And like most bad films, we have the 2 cent actors, with typical stereotypes. First, we have the kind-hearted good scientist senior citizen with a beard. Next, we have the word-slurring slack-jawed hick who wears his OVERALLS at work and has a glazed look in his eye. Next we have the skinny, hero character who will contribute nothing to this film in any way, shape, or form. And finally we have the hot blonde who looks like a fembot from Austin Powers, and can’t act her way through a door without bashing her huge hair into the frame. The 60's was a screwed up era.
As it turns out the turkey was actually a chunk taken out of the tail of Reptilicus. The Fab Four of the laboratory, peek into a room where the tail is being kept. There is not a tail inside. But there IS a paper-mache cylinder with guava jelly plopped into a hole on its side. We see the tail several times.
So for the next few minutes we see an ad-libbed story with these individuals. Every now and then, the camera lets us see the tail again, which is repairing itself about 1 cell per hour by the looks of it.
Then it happens. It’s a dark and stormy night. The Good Scientist With A Beard is working in his lab as the thunderstorm rages outside. It’s a frightening thing to behold. No its not. There is a cracking sound. The camera pans away to a small model toy of the laboratory, and what comes bursting at 1 kilometer an hour from its roof? A small puppet.
By the cover of the film. One is led to believe that Reptilicus is going to be some sort of badass sea serpent. No. Reptilicus is a green puppet. He is made of a rubber brontosaurus body with the legs hacked off. They then welded a toy cobra head to the end of the neck. Large useless butterfly wings protrude from its back. And to top it all off, they reattached the feet onto his chest. Thus, Retilicus has hands for nipples. Because he is a poorly made puppet, his mouth constantly hangs open, his head bobs about because there is one string controlling it. The rest of his body spends the rest of the film being dragged from model to model by another string.
So what happens?
Reptilicus visits a farm. And rather then plucking the chickens or slopping the hogs, he proceeds to eat a tiny cardboard cutout of the farmer that was ripped from a photograph. It is perhaps the most painful thing I have ever watched since the French Guy in the Green Mile combusted.
The Military moves in. The military, consisting of about 3 soldiers and about 5 tanks then chases Reptilicus about the country side, reusing their same footage. Might I also add that the military in this film can’t aim. They have the aiming skill of a blind armless monkey retard who has just been given a bazooka to hold and 2 seconds in which to fire it. The Hunt is on. The Game is afoot. My lunch is lost.
Just so you know, Reptilicus never remains the same size. At one point, he is slightly larger then a house. The next time you see him, he is large enough to peak his head over a mountain. And then he shrinks to the size of the Golden Gate Bridge.
So what are his powers? He shoots green slime. I don’t know what the slime does. Because when he shoots it, all we see is it flying. We never see what happens when it hits an object. And as we all know, nothing strikes fear into the hearts of men like glowing green slime.
Now I could go on for hours about the idiocy of this film. But I wont. It ends as Reptilicus enters a large city, where the windows have been hastily scribbled onto the buildings by a 5-year old. The Military finally shoots enough missiles at the stupid puppet until the strings holding it snap and the thing falls down dead. The “missiles” are actually firecrackers.
And that was it.
The credits go up, and I attempt to not scream in frustration as to how his crap could have gotten the green light to be produced. Darn you, Reptilicus, and your horrific film!!!
Here they are in a tinier font so as not to damage the eyes:
The Movie Reptilicus starts off with a bunch of clean-shaven gangly “miners” mining away at some sort of hole. Why are they making a hole? Who cares! Its what happens next that gets this film off on the wrong foot.
A Yelp Of Dismay comes from the miners. The giant corkscrew machine has come out of the ground and GASP there appears to be a roast turkey smeared on its end. The Turkey is supposed to be the flesh of Reptilicus who, luckily, is buried under the ground, and apparently hasn’t rotted despite being 360million years old. Smart. So, the miners toss the turkey flesh into a wheelbarrow and go about their business as if nothing happened. Then the camera pans down and we see that the Turkey is pulsating!!!! Dear Lord!!!! Not Pulsating Turkey!!!! Whatever shall mankind do?
Then, the corniest beginning to a film ever as the words “Reptilicus” leap from the Turkey flesh.
What transverses next is a mish-mash of random events that leads us to the first main setting of the film.
A laboratory of some sort.
And like most bad films, we have the 2 cent actors, with typical stereotypes. First, we have the kind-hearted good scientist senior citizen with a beard. Next, we have the word-slurring slack-jawed hick who wears his OVERALLS at work and has a glazed look in his eye. Next we have the skinny, hero character who will contribute nothing to this film in any way, shape, or form. And finally we have the hot blonde who looks like a fembot from Austin Powers, and can’t act her way through a door without bashing her huge hair into the frame. The 60's was a screwed up era.
As it turns out the turkey was actually a chunk taken out of the tail of Reptilicus. The Fab Four of the laboratory, peek into a room where the tail is being kept. There is not a tail inside. But there IS a paper-mache cylinder with guava jelly plopped into a hole on its side. We see the tail several times.
So for the next few minutes we see an ad-libbed story with these individuals. Every now and then, the camera lets us see the tail again, which is repairing itself about 1 cell per hour by the looks of it.
Then it happens. It’s a dark and stormy night. The Good Scientist With A Beard is working in his lab as the thunderstorm rages outside. It’s a frightening thing to behold. No its not. There is a cracking sound. The camera pans away to a small model toy of the laboratory, and what comes bursting at 1 kilometer an hour from its roof? A small puppet.
By the cover of the film. One is led to believe that Reptilicus is going to be some sort of badass sea serpent. No. Reptilicus is a green puppet. He is made of a rubber brontosaurus body with the legs hacked off. They then welded a toy cobra head to the end of the neck. Large useless butterfly wings protrude from its back. And to top it all off, they reattached the feet onto his chest. Thus, Retilicus has hands for nipples. Because he is a poorly made puppet, his mouth constantly hangs open, his head bobs about because there is one string controlling it. The rest of his body spends the rest of the film being dragged from model to model by another string.
So what happens?
Reptilicus visits a farm. And rather then plucking the chickens or slopping the hogs, he proceeds to eat a tiny cardboard cutout of the farmer that was ripped from a photograph. It is perhaps the most painful thing I have ever watched since the French Guy in the Green Mile combusted.
The Military moves in. The military, consisting of about 3 soldiers and about 5 tanks then chases Reptilicus about the country side, reusing their same footage. Might I also add that the military in this film can’t aim. They have the aiming skill of a blind armless monkey retard who has just been given a bazooka to hold and 2 seconds in which to fire it. The Hunt is on. The Game is afoot. My lunch is lost.
Just so you know, Reptilicus never remains the same size. At one point, he is slightly larger then a house. The next time you see him, he is large enough to peak his head over a mountain. And then he shrinks to the size of the Golden Gate Bridge.
So what are his powers? He shoots green slime. I don’t know what the slime does. Because when he shoots it, all we see is it flying. We never see what happens when it hits an object. And as we all know, nothing strikes fear into the hearts of men like glowing green slime.
Now I could go on for hours about the idiocy of this film. But I wont. It ends as Reptilicus enters a large city, where the windows have been hastily scribbled onto the buildings by a 5-year old. The Military finally shoots enough missiles at the stupid puppet until the strings holding it snap and the thing falls down dead. The “missiles” are actually firecrackers.
And that was it.
The credits go up, and I attempt to not scream in frustration as to how his crap could have gotten the green light to be produced. Darn you, Reptilicus, and your horrific film!!!