Curse of the Komodo (2004)
I watched Curse of the Komodo so you don't have to. Sick bastard that I am, I made my friend Alex watch it with me. When I told her that I was considering watching it a second time, (strictly for review purposes) she told me "you couldn't pay me to watch it again." She also advised that I change the DVD settings and watch it in Spanish: "At least then you'd be learning something."
Well, I learned that a small hip flask holds several gallons of whiskey--no doubt it was designed by the gun smiths who crafted the "never need reloading" weapons that the characters use in the movie. It really doesn't matter how many bullets a gun holds, since the monster doesn't in any way react to being shot. No flinching, no bleeding, no bullet holes. It just stands there growling, just off screen, as the actors (especially Gail Harris, who plays a sometimes-Australian scientist) grimace and snarl in the apparently pained ecstasy of a gun battle. The giant lizard is slightly less realistic than a rubber toy, and made me nostalgic for early 20th century serial special effects. A real monitor lizard with rubber spines glued on its head, superimposed with the actors would have been a nice touch.
Sadly, the really fake looking monster and the terrible actors and the outline of a plot somehow fail to build suspense or menace. The filmmakers almost tried to zombie up the movie by making the septic saliva of the Komodo turn humans into the walking dead, but the device is clearly an afterthought. These people don't have time to integrate a zombie movie into their giant lizard movie! They have to hurry up and make Komodo vs. Cobra!
The stars and director are a tight-knit group. Glori-Anne Gilbert, who provides the bulk of the silicon-injected gratuitous nudity, worked with director Jim Wynorski on The Bare Wench Project (and it's sequel), Busty Cops 2, and of course, The Breastford Wives. The other actors, crew, and stunt players all share duties on projects as diverse as direct-to-cable horror movies with breasts to direct-to-DVD horror movies with breasts. We owe a debt of thanks to these artisans, who ensure that there will always be a supply of entertainment for those of us who have stayed up too late, or are too cheap to rent the real porn from the hotel.
Well, I learned that a small hip flask holds several gallons of whiskey--no doubt it was designed by the gun smiths who crafted the "never need reloading" weapons that the characters use in the movie. It really doesn't matter how many bullets a gun holds, since the monster doesn't in any way react to being shot. No flinching, no bleeding, no bullet holes. It just stands there growling, just off screen, as the actors (especially Gail Harris, who plays a sometimes-Australian scientist) grimace and snarl in the apparently pained ecstasy of a gun battle. The giant lizard is slightly less realistic than a rubber toy, and made me nostalgic for early 20th century serial special effects. A real monitor lizard with rubber spines glued on its head, superimposed with the actors would have been a nice touch.
Sadly, the really fake looking monster and the terrible actors and the outline of a plot somehow fail to build suspense or menace. The filmmakers almost tried to zombie up the movie by making the septic saliva of the Komodo turn humans into the walking dead, but the device is clearly an afterthought. These people don't have time to integrate a zombie movie into their giant lizard movie! They have to hurry up and make Komodo vs. Cobra!
The stars and director are a tight-knit group. Glori-Anne Gilbert, who provides the bulk of the silicon-injected gratuitous nudity, worked with director Jim Wynorski on The Bare Wench Project (and it's sequel), Busty Cops 2, and of course, The Breastford Wives. The other actors, crew, and stunt players all share duties on projects as diverse as direct-to-cable horror movies with breasts to direct-to-DVD horror movies with breasts. We owe a debt of thanks to these artisans, who ensure that there will always be a supply of entertainment for those of us who have stayed up too late, or are too cheap to rent the real porn from the hotel.