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Capital of Nasty Vol. 03 Issue 07
Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine
Volume III, Issue 7, AD MCMXCVIII
Monday, April 6th, 1998
ISSN 1482-0471
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You know, one night I was walking back home and it started to snow this
big fat snow flakes. It was quiet and I could hear them go "flop". So
I put my hand out and one of them flops on my hand and I look at it and
it's beautiful. It's incredible, I think, and, for a minute, I had it
all figured out and I was happy.
Then I forgot what the hell it was all about it.
Weird feeling.
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"Watch out for spooges" --Peter Fung
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1. Editorial
2. Your Life is Void
3. Death
4. The Last Dinosaur
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This week's Golden Testicle award:
How to Create Fake Photos of Ghosts
http://www3.sympatico.ca/roddy/ghost.html
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1. Editorial
CoN Reviews? Bah!
By Lilith DemHareIs
It appears that some people have a different view of Nasty than others. It
seems that some people think that we are not Nasty enough, and we should be
crude, arrogant, bitter and slam on the world. They want us to be horribly
Nasty. Then, there are others who think we are cute and bouncy, in a
farcical "Nasty" (with a capital N) way. They want us to be lightly
sarcastic and mocking the world. They want Nasty in a sophisticated way.
They're both wrong.
Capital of Nasty is dedicated to subtle Nastiness, publishing that which
is brutally honest, without seeming overly whiny or hard-to-please.
(Okay, so we do whine from time to time. It's our right.) But we realize
what our places in the world are, and what's wrong with the world,
according to us. This wrongness is the Nastiness of which we write about.
Jobs and the net and annoying people and our own angst. We see the world
through individual eyes. Very few others in the world see what we see,
and even fewer are willing to do something about it. When the bucket under
the drain is beginning to get full, they empty it into the sink under which
it resides.
We bite our thumbs at the world! We do not sit on our hands, nor do we offer
the crude one-finger salute. One is useless, and the second equally so.
And remember, you can't take anyone (or anything they say) seriously if they
apply the word f*ck in any way but a direct reference to Full Unholy Carnal
Knowledge.
---
AOL Users
By Jason MacIsaac
Don Fitch wrote:
> Ah, yes, "the 'uniqueness' of AOL users". What a _nice_ way to
> put it! Being one of them, and sometimes (much often, actually)
> needing to use the "Members Helping Members" forum, I understand
> all too well the rationale behind the stereotype. But
> "RealityMAG" does have what seems to me to be a valid point --
> there _are_ a good many people who are on aol because it's fairly
> easy to learn to use (& our priorities don't include investing a
> lot of time in becoming /c/y/b/e/r/n/e/r/d/s/ skilled
> computerists), because it's the only dependable & inexpensive
> Service Provider with a local telephone number, or for some other
> good reason. Personally, I'm fond of Generalizing ... but usually
> manage to remember that there are always a significant number of
> exceptions (up to almost 50%, & maybe more) and try not to carry
> this too far.
Yeah, but, but...
Okay, so it's easy to learn to use AOL. Fair enough. Not everyone's
a technical genius. I know, I'm useless technically too. We don't
really care about that. What screams "I'm an AOL user" is a complete
lack of social grounding. A lot of them don't seem to realize that
they're talking to other human beings and so many the same rules of
written correspondence and speech apply. Introduce yourself before making
demands. Speak in complete sentences, and although you don't have to
spellcheck, research and footnote your message, try to print something
approximating English and not "i wantsad chetats sned the m to meplease"
(Actually, maybe a spellcheck is a good idea). The Internet isn't a
breeding ground for great literature, but if I wanted to find the dumbest,
most incoherent messages, I guarantee they would be written by
_______@aol.com.
Also, because you pay for AOL, some people seem to think that they have
bought the Internet. That means that if some webpage doesn't quite measure
up to their high standards, they get flame mail. "i cliked your link and
it said 'not found' i'm going to see you get the chair for this." The
Internet is NOT a service provided to any one group of people, and sometimes
it just doesn't work very well. So scream at your lousy connection or slow
system, gently point out that an image link is broken. But just because you
bought AOL does not give you the right to take a shit fit because someone
elses' server is too busy. I'll bet AOL gets regular user complaints that
"Freddy's Spice Girl Page" on Geocities is down so they want their money
back.
I'm not so sure AOL succeeds because they are so simple to use. I think
they succeed because they are one of the first, and most marketed. I pour
myself a friggin' bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and I have to pick a free AOL
disk out of the bowl. Christ, the other day it rained AOL disks. They
mass-marketed it all to Hell, and because of that, they attracted a fair
share of morons. How can you tell if your a moron? If you read this and
A) Write a message that reads "no youre an asshole aOL rulez";
B) Write a message that basically reads "Your entirely argument is
invalid because you forgot a space between "and" & "the";
C) Write a message that wonders how you can say such nasty things to a
fellow American (wake up kids, the Internet spans the world);
D) Assume that the statement "I got a stupid message from an AOL user the
other day" actually means. "ALL AOL users are gay and necrophiliacs and
they smell and they're stupid and they have small testicles, even the women,
and it is my personal mission in life to kill every one of them";
Congratulations! You're a moron! (Especially if you misinterpreted D)
You're not a moron if you take exception to a stereotype and make a
rational argument to the contrary. The person who wrote that last
message actually could write, acknowledged a problem, but still printed
a reasonable and contrary argument. They should make it mandatory that
you have this level of intelligence before sending you off on the WWW.
I should point out lastly that this behaviour is by no means unique to
AOL users. All of the long-time Internet providers who will let anyone
with a credit card and a pulse join up have a large population of moronic
subscribers. The same rules apply to them. If you don't want to be
treated like an idiot, don't act like one.
---
Chain letters
By Leandro
Welcome to yet another issue of CoN. Forgive the delay for this week,
but I didn't have much to fill this issue with. Many of my requests for
permissions haven't been answered, and many other people have been busy
with their duties in life and if I bug them any longer about sending
their stuff in, they will kill me next time they see me.
An Avid reader wrote back in regards of the survival guide that appeared
in the last issue of CoN:
> I have a question for the great oracle of knowledge called CoN.
> What if you are single?
> Do these rules apply?
>
> Waiting your answer oh great pot of...ehh...I mean source of knowledge.
Dear Avid reader, if you are single, I believe then that you are happily
involved with your temporary girlfriend, Rosy Palms.
And yes, these rules do apply. Well... eventually they will. Even sheep
call back you know?
There was a strange e-mail from Jayne Giambrone who simply asks:
"Are youp phycho?"
Now, this boggles the mind. How can you misspell two-thirds of a three
word sentence?
At the end of each issue of CoN it says something different. In last
issue, I wrongly used the word "chain letter" instead of "fake letter".
This caused a few people to write back. Lynell from Hawaii was the first:
> And at the end of the newsletter you mentioned you sent a *CHAIN*
> letter! That will get you in big big trouble. When did you do that?
> I read the entire newsletter and I don't remember. . . are you trying
> to confuse your readership?! Spankings!
Fortunately in this wonderful world there are those that are able to make
the best out of everything. William proved that even a mistake could turn
into a case of mental illness:
From: "William"
Organization: Purple rabbit runners
To: con@capnasty.org
Date sent: Tue, 24 Mar 1998 01:35:46 +0000
Subject: Re: Capital of Nasty Electronic Magazine III.6
> A chain letter. I can't believe we published a chain letter.
A chain letter? I missed it! What kind of chain was it about? The kind
you put on a prisoner when walking them to the chair? The kind you wear
around your neck, to hold your ID badge? The kind that snaps the
rottweiler's neck back when he gets to the end of it, trying to kill you,
and you sit there wondering just which one of those links is the weakest
one, and how close did you come to a bloody death this time? Or the kind
that seems to hang in convenient places for movies for someone to use to
hang another in mid-air?
Or the kind that dangles from the trailer hitch making wonderful showers
of sparks as it drags down the highway, and as you drive behind it you
realize that at any second your could get a quick tour though the trailer
if that chain caught on some piece of the highway causing their car to
suddenly stop??
My favourite kind is the shiny, new chrome type, simple ovals welded
where they join to make them stronger, and reduce scratching when someone
pulls at them, trying to get out of them.
I don't have any chains; the people around me always take them from me.
I like to take the ID badge kind and swing it around on my finger, but
sometimes it would slip off, and I'd spend the next half hour bandaging
the wounds of the person holding the cat when the chain hit the wall
behind them, so they don't let me have them anymore.
One thing I have never figured out is why people chain themselves to
trees. I don't see how they expect to survive, they are a lot softer
than the tree and any chainsaw that could cut a tree isn't even going to
notice a little meat and bone. And if it caught on the chain, that thing
is going to squeeze you so tight you won't notice when the saw hits.
If you want to stop a tree from being cut down, you have to burn it.
No nasty chains needed.
If I had to chain myself to something, I think it would have to be a
naked woman. All I need is a volunteer. Chain's optional.
William
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2. Your Life is Void
by Morbus
People are going to get angry when I tell them that your life is void.
You mean nothing. You are merely something to sell. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I
know... "I'm not for sale". Well, your personality isn't... but what
your personality REPRESENTS is. Also on sale? Your life.
Little less than a year ago, you might have read a tiny paragraph (and
an equally small picture) of Japan's Tamagotchi, the "virtual pet" that
gives you the chance to feed and care for it. It sold millions in Japan
and plans had been made to bring them to the US. Well, they came... and
they sold craploads here. And like America is so wont to do, a bunch of
people starting ripping them off.
Sure, in Japan, pirates simply took the chips, packaged 'em in cheaper
plastic and sold them for less (or more). But here, we had to do one
better. We had to go and reinvent the damn things. The first instance
that I remember was walking through a local Bradlee's (looking to see
if they had the KISS action figures, heh) and seeing a display of Tiger
Toys "GigaPets". I kinda laughed, but I grimaced when I saw the "GigaPets
Alien" (which looked like a damn schwa) along with a dinosaur and
something else. What the hell?
The first thing that immediately came to mind was the fact that GigaPets
were a cheap imitation of Tamagotchi's. Tamagotchi's, in turn, were a
cheap imitation of life.
Which gets back to the original point of this article... have our lives
been degraded into a single computer chip with three paths: eat, love,
and change diaper? To me, that is astonishing. Hey kids, don't buy a dog
or cat or that cute ferret in the window. Simply pay $9.99 and you can
have this plastic thing that fits in your pocket (with optional keychain
attachment) and beeps at you every once in a while.
Psst.... if you're good enough, you might even be able to find some of
the hacks...
Hacks? If you've been keeping up on this whole craze, you might have
noticed some websites proclaiming to have found hacks for the "tamas".
Apparently, if you press certain buttons when you "reset" your pet (kinda
like flushing a fish down a toilet and buying a new one, only easier), you
might have a chance of getting three, four, or even five tamas to play and
live with instead of just one. On the other hand, press a combination when
your tama is being born and you'll be able to tell what sex it is (now
THAT'S a novel idea).
If only life had a couple of neat little hacks or "resets", I dare to say
that the world might be a better place. Well, probably not.
And it gets worse. Now there are computer virtual pets roaming the
shareware collections... which seems repetitive. Isn't the computer
already a "digital pet"? We take care of it (optimizing hard drives,
organizing folders), watch it grow (upgrade software, and hardware) and
see it die (throw the mouse against the wall in frustration because of
'404 Not Found'). It gains a unique personality (because of icons,
backgrounds, screensavers), becomes lazy or useful (depending on your
choice of software), and can be as fat and bloated or thin and lanky as
you want. Why do we need a stupid cat named Boots running around our
desktop and interrupting our work (and eating our memory)?
Have we gotten so bored with our own lives that we mimic it for amusement
purposes?
Morbus is a devil worshipper who is confused about the size of
people's thingies, but loves to smell his own. His writings, sheep
movie, MP3s and a lot of other stuff worth surfing for can be seen at
http://www.disobey.com
Also, this article appears here because I was desperate and Morbus proves
again that he is better than I am at gaining inspiration.
-------------------------------------------
3. Death
By Improv
Last week I had to do one of the most difficult things I've ever had to
do in my entire life. My dog of thirteen years had developed among
other illness diabetes, and she had to be euthanized. This is no joke,
it was one of the most painful decisions I've ever made. I wanted to
write an article in the hours leading up to her death, but I couldn't.
I couldn't do much of anything. In fact I'm just getting over it now,
a week later. I'm not really sure why I'm writing this...
I had a really hard time with the fact that I was, in essence, killing
my beloved pet. I likened this experience, and in fact, any situation
that is similar to the following analogy, picture this: A little boy
suffers from cancer...terminal cancer...nothing you can do...well looks
like we gotta put a bullet in Billy. That's how I feel. This dog was
essentially the sibling I never had. And I'm sure that there are many
readers who can relate. A pet is indeed as much a member of the family
unit as any other. And to kill a member of your family, whether out of
mercy or not, is painful.
I'm sure that there are some dickheads out there that find this amusing,
and I'm not one to begrudge a good chuckle to anyone BUT if you do: fuck
off. Anyone who finds the misfortune of others, not just mine, but anyone's
misfortune funny is a sick fuck. I'm not talking black comedy based movies
or even slapstick, but I'm talking real life tragedy. Whether it's big,
like a mother losing a child, or small, like my situation, it doesn't mean
any less. I was convinced that the fact that I cried over this dog was
stupid, because, "It's just a dog." But I was wrong. And thank you to
my girlfriend for pointing this out to me.
-------------------------------------------
4. The Last Dinosaur
by Ken Begg
Like most long time hobbies, my interest in Bad Movies(TM) began with
easy stuff and got more hardcore as time went along. First I watched
patently inept flicks like Curse of Bigfoot and It's Alive (not the
mutant baby one). But now I can watch an expensive, technically
proficient turkey and recognize how truly awful it is. This task
is more difficult, and more excruciating as well. It takes a lot
more effort to dissect such a movie, whereas anyone can half watch
Plan 9 From Outer Space and `get' how bad it is. My twentieth year
of watching cinematic dreck rapidly (too rapidly) approaches. So I
feel fully qualified to take an axe to expensive Hollywood stinkers
like Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, MegaForce and On Deadly Ground.
And boy, do they deserve it. Still, as I've indicated, such films
can really take a lot out of you. Particularly when you live with them
the way I do in writing these articles. So it's nice, every once in a
while, to watch the really obviously bad stuff. Which brings us to The Last
Dinosaur.
Much like its mighty sauropod ancestors, The Last Dinosaur once ruled
its world. (I know a sauropod is a four-legged vegetarian dinosaur, as
opposed to the title T-Rex. But I like the sound of the sentence that
way. Sue me.) There was a time, during the late `80s, when our subject
here was constantly on the air. Nary a session of channel flipping
could go by without running across it. Particularly if you had cable,
it seemed that two or three times a month you would stumble across
this film playing in all its idiosyncratic glory. My friend Andrew
Muchoney can back me up on this, as it was a running topic of some
amazement. Whenever one of us would catch in on the air, we'd call
the other and say, "Guess what's on?" There were other films like
this. For instance, during the stand up comedy boom of the `80s, the
movie C.H.U.D. was a familiar punchline. Because there were only a
limited number of film titles sanctioned for cable at the time (like
when the early MTV had about nine videos it could show), C.H.U.D.
was seemingly shown ten times a month on each cable movie channel.
You couldn't get away from it, and if you did, you'd usually run
into The Last Dinosaur.
Why? Possibly the film was in the public domain. This means that ownership
rights for the film have lapsed., Therefore, anyone with a print of it
could run it for free whenever they liked. For years, It's a Wonderful
Life was in the public domain. This is why it used to run about six dozen
times each Christmas. (These repeat showings, by the way, transformed an
initially unpopular flick into a beloved national classic.) Ownership of
It's a Wonderful Life has recently been reestablished. This is why it's
now telecast only once a year, on the NBC network. For the same reason,
it's now only available from one video label. Old-timers like myself
will remember when it was available in a wide array of cheaply reproduced
video versions. Again, being in the public domain, anyone with a copy
(say you recorded it off your local PBS station during the holidays)
could dub it onto tape and sell it. Needless to say, most of these
versions were poorly produced. The film, running well over two hours,
was often substantially hacked up to fit on a standard two-hour tape.
I doubt, however, that The Last Dinosaur, or C.H.U.D. for that matter,
was a public domain title. More likely in these cases, the films' owners
believed that maximum profits could be accrued by selling broadcast
rights that were both unlimited (you could run it as much as you liked
during the contract period without additional payments) and non-exclusive
(i.e., nobody would pay enough to "own" the broadcast rights, so the
owners sold them to multiple stations at the same time). But it's not
only that these films would have been cheap to run. You also must factor
in a certain level of guaranteed viewership. For there is always a
certain percentile of audience members who, while surfing along the
broadcast waves, will stop at the first sight of a rubber monster or
prehistoric beast.
Our film opens in the den of our antihero, industrialist and big game
hunter Masten Thrust (!). That name should give you some idea of the
script's quality. Thrust's the last of the manly men, an anachronism is
today's girly-man world. He's played by long time TV star Richard Boone.
Boone reaped his greatest fame starring in Have Gun, Will Travel,
a surprisingly cynical `50s TV western. Part of the show's attraction was
that the main character, Paladin, was played by the craggy featured Boone,
rather than one of the era's typical pretty boys. Unfortunately, as age
took its toll, Boone went from homely/handsome to just plain ugly.
The weight he put on didn't help, bloating his face rather severely.
Think of a fatter Roy Orbison with big `70s hair and you'll be in the
right ballpark. By the time he appeared in this movie, Boone was pretty
hard on the eyes. This was his last film, I think, and he played the part
as broadly as it was written. Let's just say that I hope he provided a
big ol' bucket of mustard to go with all that ham.
In his own way, Thrust is as much of a `last dinosaur' as the movie's
title beastie. More so, in fact, as there are any number of dinosaurs
running around in the `Lost World' we'll stumble into later. One can
just imagine the screenwriter convincing himself that all this `subtext'
somehow justified the crappy script. Setting the mood, the movie's
theme plays in melancholy fashion in the background. Remember how they
played the Brady Bunch theme real slow during the `sad' scenes? Like
that. Thrust is showing slides of his kills to his latest bimbo, who
comes accessorized with a little white dog. He rants on, bitching
about people who bitch about people who hunt big game. She, in turn,
stares in bewildered incomprehension at his little tirade (much like
the audience).
Disconsolate with his, uh, companion's lack of intellectual firepower,
Thrust turns to go. When the girl moans for him not to leave her
(eee-yuck!), Thrust leaves behind a truly garish zebra skin photo album
for her to peruse. This item is so ugly that it looks like something
stolen from a Chesty Morgan flick. We also see that Thrust has made the
cover of the latest issue of "Newsworld" magazine. This comes complete
with a helpful caption explaining that Thrust is the richest man in the
world. As the photo album is picked up, we cut to an obviously bogus
airplane that has "Bad Japanese FX" written all over it (The Last
Dinosaur was an American/Japanese co-production). Now, I'm a huge Godzilla
fan. Still, I've always found it strange how Japanese fantasy movies
would use models to create not only fantastic elements like giant monsters
and futuristic weaponry, but also real life stuff like airplanes and
bulldozers. I assume that this was to increase visual "consistency" or
something. I mean, wouldn't stock footage have been cheaper and easier,
not to mention less obviously phony? (It should be noted that this
technique has been largely abandoned in more recent Japanese fare.)
Hilariously, we're supposed to `get' that this trophy filled rec room,
complete with working fireplace, is located on Thrust's private jet!
Well, he's been identified as the world's richest man, I guess, not the
world's most tasteful man. Our temporary heroine opens the photo album.
This is the cue for an `artistic' transition to the opening credits.
(Somebody's been to film school.) These play over the leafing of the
album's obviously doctored photos of Thrust's past. As the camera
records a series of improbably expositional photos and spurious
`newspaper' articles, the film's theme song begins. As noted before,
Thrust is metaphorically a `last dinosaur' himself, and the song's
lyrics are `artfully' written so as advance this `meaning.' A Shirley
Bassey sound-alike (at least I hope it's a sound-alike!) starts crooning:
"His time has passed/There are no more/He is the Last.Di-na-Sore!"
We cut to a truly pointless shot of toy airplanes `taxiing' around an
equally phony airport. Then we go to footage shot at a real airport.
Thrust and his trollop deplane down one of those portable step deals.
This is shot from the top of the steps, so as to `hide' the fact that
there's no plane attached to them (renting actual planes costs money).
Exiting the airport, Thrust takes leave of his companion. Before hopping
into his waiting limo, he tosses her a return ticket and a solid gold
bullet (!). Perplexed, she watches him drive off. This affords us a
good look at her white pantsuit, complete with widely flaring bell
bottoms. I'm no expert, but I'm beginning to think this film might
have been made in the `70s.
The limo soon arrives at the cleverly monikered Thrust Industries.
Amazingly, a real limo and building are used for this shot, rather than
miniature models. Thrust is met by a large contingent of company yes men.
They inform him that the media is waiting inside, per his instructions.
The reporters have been kept in the dark, knowing only that Thrust is
announcing some kind of expedition that will be "bigger than the moon
walk." (Uh, I assume that they mean Michael Jackson's `moon walk'.)
Thrust is accosted by girl reporter Francesca Banks, played by TV soap
star Joan Van Ark. In a `hilarious' bit, the chauvinistic Thrust takes
her to be a hooker, hired for his use after the press conference.
She stalks off, giving us a good look at her own bell bottom pants,
scarf and gigantic blouse and jacket lapels. The evidence for the whole
`70s thing is rapidly mounting.
We cut to a lab. A `scientist' (I mean, he's wearing a lab coat and all)
is watching a generator creating a small arc of electricity. This is
supposed to represent an `experiment.' Thrust greets his old friend
Dr. Kawimoto. Kawimoto then introduces him to geologist Charles Wade.
Wade, we're expositoried, is the sole survivor of a `polar borer'
expedition. Dialog alludes to something mysterious that he saw (gee,
could it have been, oh, I don't know... a dinosaur?). Both these
characters are obvious archetypes. Dr. Kawimoto is the Wise Old
Scientist. For those who don't watch a lot of sci-fi films, this isn't
exactly a role conducive to being around for the end of the picture.
Wade, on the other hand, serves a number of roles wrapped into one.
First, he's the Sole Survivor/Witness whose prior experience sets up
the rest of the movie. Second, he, as a scientist, will represent
`civilization' to counterpoint the outdated machismo of Thurst
(i.e., he is Man's future contrasted with Man's past). Third, he
will provide the obligatory third corner of the inevitable romantic
triangle along with Thrust and Francesca.
Dr. Kawimoto asks for Thrust's assurance that this will be a purely
scientific expedition, not a hunting trip. Thrust gives him his word.
And since Thrust is a man's man, his word is his bond. Then they head
out for the press briefing, Thrust striding ahead in cartoonish man-of-
action style. They arrive in a room with milling reporters making loud
`watermelon, watermelon' noises. Thrust yells at them to shut up, which
they immediately do. This is meant as further evidence of how Thrust
is a master of men. Thrust begins by explaining how his company has
been drilling for oil `under the polar cap.' This has been achieved with
a `Polar Borer,' one of those fat-pencil-with-a-drill-attached thingies
that are so popular in these movies. Boy, good thing they didn't use
one of those constantly exploding oil rigs instead. In a hilarious moment,
Thrust points to the handy mmodel of the Borer on display. This `model'
is in fact the miniature used for the, er, `special' effects inserts (!).
On a previous expedition, Thrust continues, Polar Borer 5 (yeah, like
he has a fleet of these ridiculous things) disappeared with five men
aboard. Only one would return. With this `dramatic' announcement, Trust
turns things over to Wade. Wade speaks haltingly into the microphone,
relating events from that fateful day. To the surprise of no one who's
ever seen a `Lost Continent' movie, it turns out that the Borer broke
into a subterranean area. Here, he continues, temperatures registered
as above 90ø. This results in an another loud outburst of `cantaloupe,
cantaloupe' noises from the reporters. A particularly funny insert has
one guy sitting there for ten seconds and then forcefully saying,
"Nyet!" Not only is this bad editing (you can actually see that the
guy's waiting for his cue), but the attempt to indicate the `world-wide'
interest in this story is a wee bit obvious. Finally, the blustering
Thrust has to yell at the press again to regain order.
But the amazing pronouncements aren't over yet (duh). The Borer surfaced
on a lake, heated by your obligatory `Land That Time Forgot' volcano.
The crew, minus Wade, who was on monitor duty, elected to row ashore.
Watching through binoculars, Wade noticed an "enormous animal" nearby.
Unfortunately, the crew was too far away to hear his warnings, and were
quickly set upon. "And then they were gone,' concludes Wade, leading to
another blustering `watermelon, watermelon' outburst from the assembled
media types. Frankly, for professional reporters, these guys seem easily
unsettled. Thrust takes over, making the startling (well, not really,
but you know.) announcement that the crew apparently fell victim to a
Tyrannosaurus Rex, the "largest carnivore that ever lived." (This was
years before Roseanne became famous.) This, oddly, is greeted with less
vocalizing than the 90ø temperature announcement. Thrust proceeds to
show some amateur movies of a T-Rex skeleton, while he recites a few
elementary facts regarding the species. After all, the screenwriter
appears to have spent numerous twos and threes of minutes researching
dinosaurs in the World Book encyclopedia. So you can't blame him if he
wants to show off some of his hard earned knowledge.
Thrust announces that he will be leading a scientific expedition to find
the T-Rex. This is designated (rather aptly, I might add) as the `Bore
Expedition.' Answering an obvious query, Thurst responds that he won't
be going to hunt the beast, but rather to study it. The expedition will
include Thrust, Dr. Kawimoto, Wade and a member of the press. Also
included will be a Masai tracker, `probably the best in the world.'
Yeah, when tracking an eight ton, twenty foot tall creature, it's best
to utilize the subtle skills of the best tracker in the world. With this,
Thrust introduces Bunta (!), a seven foot tall black guy in a safari
outfit. This, for some reason, results in another eruption of `crowd'
noises from the Press. Apparently, the headlines will read, TYRANNOSAURUS
REX EXISTS! REALLY TALL BLACK GUY TO LOOK FOR IT!! As Thrust departs,
he is re-introduced to Francesca. She has been `unanimously' chosen to
be the Press Representative. Thrust, of course, refuses to let her go.
"No woman is going on this trip!", he grimaces. "Now I've been going on
safari most of my life. I've never taken a woman, and I'm not going to
CHANGE NOW!" The theme music blares in the background, Thrust stalks
off, and the watching Francesca vows that she will be on the expedition.
Cut to a traditional Japanese dinner party, held in honor of the
expedition. This features an ice sculpture of the Polar Borer (!),
which probably represented about 3% of the film's budget. One would
certainly think it cost more than the film's cheesy Borer fx miniature.
Unable to get into the mood, a pensive Thrust stands alone. He is
approached by (surprise) Francesca, done up in a traditional Japanese
kimono (!). Walking off, Francesca lures Thrust attention by flinging
off her robe from behind a bush. Hey, this is just like that scene in
It's a Wonderful Life! Remember? When Mary Hatch's robe comes off and
she's hiding in the bush and George Bailey. Well, OK. It's nothing like
It's a Wonderful Life. She teasingly beckons him, then steps out,
revealing that she's wearing a slinky black evening dress. Ha ha!
Why, she's not nude after all! Tantalized by this display, Thrust makes
his exit from the party.
Finding Francesca in a pagoda, Thrust apologizes for his bluntness.
Francesca then attempts to cozen up to him by revealing her own
affinity for hunting. It began when she was a child, and her father
presented her with a .22 rifle. ".a walnut stock," she reminisces,
"and nickel plated." (Nickel plating? On a rifle? Eee-yuck!) As she
and Thrust giggle over their mutual love of firearms, we cut to Wade,
watching them pensively. This is the first indication (for those who've
never, ever, seen a movie before) that he will be part of an upcoming
romantic triangle. Francesca vamps Thrust with the help of a truly awful
Mae West impression. Weirdly, Thrust identifies it as a W.C. Fields
impression (!), and she says, "Right!" Could actress Joan Van Ark not
have known the difference between the two? More likely, Boone blew the
line, and they were too cheap to reshoot the scene. Anyway, it really
wasn't much worse of a W. C. Fields impression than a Mae West impression.
The scene ends with them leaving the duck laden lake. The boisterous
Thrust makes wacky `duck' noises (!), sounding much like The Penguin
from the old Batman TV show. Apparently, they cut the part where
Francesca says, "Hey, Cesaer Romero, right?!"
Cut to Francesca's apartment. The `Last Dinosaur' theme plays in a slow,
romantic arrangement. Man, that's one versatile tune! Thrust is pleased
when Francesca immediately heads for the bedroom. However, after a little
smooching (frankly, no mere dinosaur has a chance of frightening us after
this scene!) she turns the tables by activating a hidden slide projector.
Her `Pulitzer Prize' winning photography appear on the wall. Given the
lackluster quality of the photos, we can only surmise that it was fairly
easy to procure a Pulitzer in those days. Perhaps she found it in a box
of Cracker Jacks. Laughing, Thrust concedes defeat at this clever ploy,
and agrees to take her with. Her goal achieved, Francesca in turn gives
in to her longings for the manly Thrust (no pun intended). This would
be a good time to chase any children from the room, before they are
permanently turned off to sex.
We cut to a toy helicopter flying through a storm (apparently achieved
with a hose set on `mist'). It proceeds to land on a rather desultory
oil platform, which looks like something rejected by the talented
artisans at TV's Thunderbirds Are Go! Our intrepid team heads down
into the "Bore Room." Why this room should be singled out for this
honor is left unexplained. Here they prepare to enter the inept
looking "full-scale" model of the Polar Borer. Thrust gives the
obligatory `if any one of you wants off the mission, now's the time.'
speech. Needless to say, no one stays behind, even obviously doomed
characters like Bunta and Dr. Kawimoto. (Oops, hope I didn't blow
anything there.) We conveniently cut away while they climb into the
Borer. It's obvious that all five actors couldn't possibly fit into
this thing, unless they took the special `Midget Car' class at Clown
College. Still, we do get to see Wade pull shut the foot-thick `metal'
hatch, which wobbles around alarmingly for something that looks
to weigh about two hundred pounds.
Next we get the `dramatic' launch scene. The Borer is fired down a tube
into the water, like a bullet. As it approaches the bottom, the lasers
are activated. This envelops the ship in kind of a laser sheath. In
combination with the big drill on the front of the ship this is
supposed to cut through the rock. One question: Since a laser is a
compressed beam of light, why isn't it diffused while under water,
rendering it useless? (I guess I'm just not a scientist.) Boring into
the bottom of a convenient lake, the Borer floats to the surface.
There we catch our first glimpse of prehistoric beasties, as a couple
of cheesy pterodactyl marionettes are `flown' around the set. Let's
just say that this doesn't convey the same sense of awe and wonder
fostered by the first dinosaur scene in Jurassic Park.
Rafting to shore, the gang are given a couple of `gee, wow' moments
before we cut to the chase. Loud noises turn out to be a weird looking
dino, apparently a member of the Goofisaurous family, out for its morning
jog. They all run for cover, except for Francesca, who keeps taking
pictures of it. Finally, Thrust has to run out and knock her aside before
she gets trampled. Landing in the mud, both break out laughing. Wade runs
over to yell at them for their childish and dangerous behavior (remember,
he represents reason and civilization as opposed to the physical strength
and sheer will to succeed of Thrust). And while I'd be the last to suggest
that Steven Spielberg stole the whole `female photographer gets caught
up photographing dinosaurs and almost gets stomped on until her male
love interest leaps to her rescue' scene for the oddly similar bit in
The Lost World, well, I'll just leave that up for you to decide.
That night, we see them camped on the beach. You know, right where the
first expedition got themselves eaten ten minutes after coming ashore.
Bunta stands to one side, honing his machete and his spear (!). Talking
to the others, Thrust explains that `Bunta' means `man with a hundred
wives and a thousand head of cattle.' Apparently, his is an extremely
concise language. Suddenly, danger rears its head, as the group is
assailed by a backscreen effect of one of those pterodactyl puppets.
Wow, that was an exciting two seconds. As the group bunks down for
the night, the camera shifts, showing them being watched by, you
guessed it, a cave guy. Hey, you wouldn't want to have missed a clich
or anything, right?
The next day, everybody except for Dr. Kawimoto heads off to look for
the T-Rex. He stays behind to watch over the campsite (plot point!)
Francesca's surprised and suspicious that Thrust is packing a rifle,
since he promised that this wasn't a hunting trip. Thrust answers
that he's bringing it with in case they get into trouble (which seems
like a reasonably good idea). We see that the filmmakers have
thoughtfully strung up some phony vines in the woods. This allows
Bunta to hack at them with his machete and look like he's doing
something. Meanwhile, Wade points out some woefully phony insert
shots of `extinct' plants for Francesca to look at. Wade and Francesca
are filmed in such a way as to make their growing mutual attraction
rather, shall we say, obvious. Then we get the inevitable `huge
footprints' scene, as they stumble over the tracks of the T-Rex.
Taking pictures, Francesca finds that she's stepped on a (moderately)
giant turtle. Stumbling off to shore, we see that a couple of leeches
have attached themselves to her leg. Oddly, the world-wide traveler
Francesca looks at them and shrills, "What are they?!", as if leeches
were some exotic phenomenon. Wade promptly proves that he's no biologist
(or Roger Corman fan) by stating that they're "giant leeches". This in
spite of the fact that they're clearly regular sized leeches. Francesca
indicates that she's never seen The African Queen by asking what Bunta's
doing when he starts pouring salt on them. So this woman, who's
traveled all over the world photographing wars and whatnot, has never
accumulated a Boy Scout's knowledge of leeches? Sounds to me like a prime
candidate to be taken on a `snipe hunt.' And despite the fact that they
give her an "I can take giant turtles and dinosaurs, but leeches.yuck!'
line to address the situation, actress Joan Van Ark obviously lost the
fight to keep a straight face during this scene. She's supposed to be
grossed out, but you can see her barely suppressing laughter instead.
After they leave, cave guys come out and investigate Francesca's
dropped purse. With an exaggerated look of disinterest (apparently,
this is one of man's precursors that never developed method acting),
they cast it away and waddle off. Then a cave gal wanders out. She
also investigates the purse, but decides to keep it. Hmmm. Pre-human,
perhaps. But still a chick. Meanwhile, our main characters know that
they're close to their quarry. Bunta goes to climb a tree for a
better look. In one of the movie's showstopper, pure hilarity moments,
Bunta looks around to discover that the T-Rex is standing roughly ten
feet away from him. Man, imagine how close it could have gotten if Bunta
wasn't the world's greatest tracker! Adding insult to injury is that this
scene of a guy in a tree menaced by a dino was directly stolen from the
original King Kong. Not to mention that the T-Rex costume here would have
been embarrassing in a Godzilla flick made twenty years earlier. (Speaking
of Godzilla, I'm sure he'll be pissed off when he finds out that they
stole his trademark yell for the T-Rex here.) Then there's the matter
of the truly awful bluescreen effects. And like many Bad Movies of this
sort, the scale (size-wise) on the dinosaurs keeps changing. We were
told that the T-Rex was twenty feet tall, but in this scene it's
clearly more like forty or fifty (more on this later).
They run off, but not before Thrust takes a shot at it, which has no
effect. Perhaps the problem is that his rifle appears to be a deer
rifle. Wouldn't an elephant gun be more appropriate? Also, this is
one of those movies where the `expert rifleman' character keeps
dramatically pulling back the bolt on his rifle, for no apparent
reason. In real life, this would just expel live rounds from his rifle.
And other than the movie rule that once the camera is off the monster
it can move faster than when on-camera (as fully explicated in my review
of The Beast of Yucca Flats), there's no reason why Thrust couldn't have
gotten off three or four shots instead of the one he does.
`Trapped' by the river (which appears easily fordable), Thrust decides
that their only chance is to kill the T-Rex. So he hunkers down to take
another shot. We can't help but notice that lifetime hunting enthusiast
Thrust is still having major trouble working the bolt on his rifle. In
one shot, we even see him notice that he has left the bolt half pulled
(!), and he has to stop and complete closing it. It's almost like Thrust
were being played by an actor who never used a bolt action rifle before,
and wasn't properly trained in how to use it. (By the way, I've never
used a bolt action rifle, either. So that tells you how obvious all this
is.) Hilariously, Thrust yells at his awkward and towering target to,
"Stop moving!" How was this guy ever able to hit the deer and such that
we saw lining the walls of his trophy room? Not only are such animals
quicker than the T-Rex here, but they're also quite a bit smaller than
forty feet tall.
Seeing Bunta readying a spear toss, Thrust yells to distract the T-Rex.
Or something. The editing here is really confusing. He sends Wade and
Francesca across the river, which indeed proves to be about three feet
deep. So much for the `we'll never make it across the river' idea.
Finally, Thrust announces, after shooting the bolt for about the dozenth
time (after firing it once), that the gun is jammed. Gee, how did that
happen? So what does he do? He throws away the rifle! This, from a guy
who will later go to the trouble to make crossbows out of leftover parts!
Yeah, boy, it'd probably take all of two minutes to clear out the jam
later on. Might as well just get rid of it. Oh, and this is, by the way,
the only weapon that he brought along on this dangerous mission. Yep, not
even a sidearm. Good planning, bwana. Luckily, Bunta manages to turn away
the dinosaur with a spear toss (yeah, right). The survivors then argue
about Thrust shooting at the dinosaur. Considering the `skill' he
displayed at this task, I wonder why they bother. Cave guys kick around
the rifle after they leave, then split. Cave Girl then dashes out and
grabs the rifle scope, sticking it into the purse (gee, she figured out
the `bag' concept pretty fast. Maybe she's a relative of Ayla from Clan
of the Cave Bear).
Next we see the T-Rex fishing. It grabs what must be a twelve-foot long
trout, and munches at it with its rubber teeth. Turning away, it notices
the campsite, and Dr. Kawimoto. Again, the gigantic beast manages to
somehow sneak right up on the guy (this thing is much stealthier than
you would have expected) and squish him. Why the T-Rex would abandon
fishing those huge fish for the scrawny Dr. Kawimoto is left unexplained.
Hmm, could it have been to further the `plot,' by giving Thrust a reason
for launching a vendetta against the creature? Next we see that the beast
has not only decimated the campsite, but has waded into the lake and
grabbed the Polar Borer as well.
Again, I have to question the size of this creature. We were explicitly
told earlier in the picture the T-Rexes stood about twenty feet tall
(this is correct). You would think that if this creature was as large
as it appears, the characters would make note of it. And yet, the T-Rex
gets the (surprisingly buoyant) Borer out of the water by grabbing it
in its mouth and tossing it. Now, since the characters could stand inside
the Borer, let's be conservative and say that it stands eight feet tall.
Obviously, no creature could grab something over a third of its height in
its mouth (even for a fifty foot beast, the Borer, if scaled properly,
would prove quite a mouthful). I mean, let's not kid ourselves, nobody
watching these things expects them to be perfectly consistent. Still,
this seems a bit sloppy.
The T-Rex takes the shiny Borer back home. This is a little valley filled
with what appears to be the bones of hundreds of other beasts. The Borer,
I must say, is mighty rugged. It is repeatedly tossed hundreds of feet
though the air, and kicked around by the T-Rex like a football. It's
thrown with such force that it bounces around like it only weighed about
two or three pounds (hmm.). Yet, at the end of the movie, when the
remaining cast escapes in it (oops, sorry if I ruined the `surprise'),
it continues to function perfectly. Talk about `Ford Tough.' On top of
that, our Saurian hero then begins to knock rock down on the Borer
to bury it.
This almost proves its undoing, however. For buried in that very rock
face, there in the T-Rex's lair, is a triceratops (????!!!). Exactly
what, or how, the creature was doing buried under a hill full of rock
isn't gone into. Apparently, this was pretty standard behavior for a
triceratops. Hmm, given the camouflaged Triceratops, as well as the
T-Rex's demonstrated ability to sneak up on humans, perhaps there's a
sort of Dinosaur Ninjitsu academy somewhere nearby. Anyway, the
Triceratops (`realized' through the venerable `two guys in a horse-suit'
technique) comes exploding out of the mountainside, setting up a
surprisingly bloody `battle royale.' The Triceratops manages to gore the
T-Rex in such a manner that you would think it fatal, but other than that
the fight goes pretty much the way you'd expect. When this `epic battle'
is completed, the T-Rex stands triumphant.
Back at camp, our remaining characters come upon the damage. Thrust,
enraged that this idiot beast has destroyed one of history's great
minds, vows revenge (duh). By the way, Thrust refers to the T-Rex as a
`forty foot' animal, referring to its total length, not it's height.
One wonders if the cast was aghast when they saw how big it was when
the fx shots were inserted, or if they didn't even care (or ever
bothered seeing the finished film, for that matter). Then they notice
that the Borer is gone. Their immediate conclusion is that the T-Rex
sunk it, which, after all, makes a lot more sense than the `carried it
off' idea.
Thrust drops another bombshell. It turns out that he ordered that if
they didn't return, no more lives should be risked by attempting a
rescue. This is not only downright retarded, but utterly unbelievable.
First of all, their vessel was earlier referred to as `Polar Borer 5,'
so there are at least four others. Second, are we really to believe that,
given the ability, no one would attempt to save `the richest man in the
world'? Imagine that it was Bill Gates trapped down there (something,
in fact, that Mac users have fantasized about many times). You'd also
think that other scientists would want to check out this pre-historic
wonderland, no matter how many people disappeared there. Besides, it's
not like this place is really all that menacing, except to idiots. Hadn't
our cast considered that living in canvas tents would be dangerous, what
with giant carnivorous monsters running around? Finally, it really seems
like this `no rescue' order should have been shared with the others.
Perhaps, you know, when Thrust gave them that big `here's your last
chance to skip the expedition' speech.
Well, if it's not one thing, it's another. By the next scene, our
plucky foursome is already fighting the cave guys for food. The cave
guys win, due to their superior numbers, and walk off with a dead
rabbit (that should keep them going for a while). As they split,
Thrust points out to Wade that the cave guys have adopted the use of
sharpened sticks. They're imitating the spears that the Thrust group
has fashioned. Back at home base, Thrust heads off, talking about a
weapon he is developing to fight the cave guys. Wade and Francesca
engage in a homey little domestic conversation, rich in expository
dialog (if nothing else). It's now four months since they were stranded,
although everybody's hair is exactly the same length as when they arrived.
The local game is played out, but if they try to leave the general area of
their cave, the cave guys will pick them off. Things are getting (*gasp*)
desperate. Meanwhile, Francesca, tired of her housewifey duties, starts
mouthing off to Wade. After a heated argument, they (surprise) fall into
a romantic clinch. They are then surprised by Thrust. Francesca, confused
about her dual attraction to both Wade and Thrust, goes off to sleep on
her own. Uh oh. Trouble in Paradise. (Since Bunta's a black guy, I
guess he doesn't enter into it.)
Thrust and Bunta spend the night working on their improved weapons,
using scrap from the original equipment. This proves provident, for
when Francesca arises, she spots the cave guys making a move on their
position. Thrust emerges with his creation: a homemade crossbow, using
recovered tent pegs as bolts (he has all of two of these). This seems
counterintuitive. Wouldn't bows and arrows be a better idea? They not
only could be fashioned and replenished from natural materials, but
have greater range and power. Anyway, the three manly men go out to
confront the cave guys. Their leader starts a little war dance, riling
up the troops for the attack. Thrust takes aim and plants a bolt right
into his chest, killing him instantly. (This seems like a mighty good
shot. I'm sure that there aren't too many places on the body where this
kind of wound would result in immediate death.) Freaked out, the cave guys
run off. Then our heroes turn around and head back to the cave. Oddly
(very oddly), they fail to retrieve the reusable steel bolt from the
guy's chest. This despite the fact that it apparently represents half
their supply. Between this and the tossed away rifle earlier in the flick
(and again, wouldn't it have been easier to clear a jammed cartridge
than fashion homemade crossbows?), well, let's just say that Thrust
isn't coming off like a strategic genius or anything.
When next we see our protagonists, they've made a new camp up in the
glacial mountains. This doesn't seem like such a great idea, but what
do I know? Oddly, their food problems have apparently disappeared, even
though you'd think that few animals would live up in this frigid area.
Their larder is so full, in fact, that when Cave Gal shows up, Francesca
casually tosses her an entire roasted chicken (or something). This makes
one wonder: if there are edible fowl around, why don't they domesticate
them? Wouldn't raising a ready supply of food be better than relying on
the uncertainty of the hunt? Anyway, by the rather implausible next
scene, sometime in the future, we see that the group has established
a new, more hospitable camp. Cave Gal has joined the group, and we see
the three guys returning with a rather unlikely cornucopia of fresh game.
Thrust is singing (accompanied by `Aren't We Merry!' music on the
soundtrack), sounding like Redd Foxx on a bad day. The girls, of course,
handle the cooking and whatnot. Anyway, everyone seems quite happy and
contented with their lot in life, cracking jokes and tossing around a
hicken (don't ask). So you know that something is about to go wrong.
That night (or something), Cave Gal sneaks up on Thrust as he sleeps in
their new cave. (Which, uh, how do I put this? Well, let's just say that
it looks suspiciously like their old cave.) Is she a spy, planted to
kill him? No, she has instead identified Thrust as Alpha Male, and
seeks to share his bed. Although Cave Gal has proven to be surprisingly
attractive once cleaned up (although she's no Daryl Hannah), Thrust
awakens and kicks her out. Frightened, she runs off. His heart softens,
however, when he finds that she has brought him his old rifle scope as
a present. (Besides, if Thrust and Cave Gal become a couple, that
provides a solution to Thrust/Francesca/Wade triangle without one of
the two men having to die. As for Bunta, well, as a non-white servant
type, I'm sure he's happy enough to do without. Actually, considering
that he has `a hundred wives,' he probably finds the peace and quiet
refreshing.)
We next see Francesca by the river, washing her hair. The camera
indicates that something is stalking her, but it's only Cave Gal.
By this point, she's been given a name. This occurred when Thrust
suggested that, by teaching her to do chores, Francesca had turned
Cave Gal into the `first domestic servant.' (Why do I get an image
of Karl Marx nodding and saying, "Uh-hmm!"?) Wade then suggested
that they call her `Hazel'. Ha ha. Anyway, it's obvious that Hazel
has come to Francesca for help. Intuiting her needs, Francesca helps
her wash and do up her hair and stuff. Gee, too bad they don't have
any Barbie dolls to play around with. Unfortunately, this blissful
scene is broken up when Hazel spots something reflected in a pan of
water. Yep, it's that old stealthy T-Rex, who's again managed to
sneak right up on someone without their noticing. Hazel runs off
ina blind panic. To distract the T-Rex, Francesca runs between his
legs. After outdistancing the T-Rex for an improbable length of time,
Francesca makes it to their cave. This sets up the obligatory `Trapped
Inside a Cave by the Giant Monster' scene.
The men show up. Getting an idea, Thrust sends Bunta off to find `two
hundred yards of strong line.' Bunta comes back with a length of vine
that looks oddly like a rope with leaves glued to it. One end is
secured around a convenient boulder. The other end is fashioned into
a lariat, which Bunta tosses over the T-Rex's tail (or a patently bogus
representation thereof). They then lure the T-Rex into chasing them down
an incline. Momentum causes the T-Rex to run right past them. The boulder
is pulled free, and itself rolls down the incline. It continues to roll
right on past the dinosaur, ultimately pulling the T-Rex right off its
feet, whereupon it flies up into the air and crashes down onto its back.
(Need I point out that, given the beast's mass, this would undoubtedly
snap its spine?) You're probably thinking, from the above description,
that this all looks rather silly. Well, let me tell you, buddy: You got
no idea. Demoralized, the T-Rex stalks off.
Thrust irritates the others by demanding that they follow the T-Rex and
find a way to kill it. There's no other way, he maintains. Now that it
knows where they are, it'll keep after them. This scene introduces one
of the movie's more humorous idiosyncrasies. They begin using this odd
musical curlicue to punctuate `dramatic' bits or dialog. Unsurprisingly,
however, they grossly misuse it (not that it was such a hot idea to start
with). They do this by overusing it, ending almost every sentence this
way. The effect, like much here, is comical rather than dramatic.
Following the tracks, they come across a clearing where the T-Rex has
smashed a trail through the trees on the other side. Thrust deems this area
perfect, and reveals his plan. They'll build a catapult. Then they'll lure
the T-Rex back the way it came. Since it'll come straight down the path
it's already beaten through, they'll now exactly where to aim their
missile. Construction begins.
Soon the catapult is built, and the trap laid. Vines have been
strategically placed across the trail. The T-Rex will be momentarily
halted by them, giving them a clear shot. (Again, Thrust notes that
the missile will be aimed to hit `twenty feet high', so we get back
to the question of scale.) Wade and Francesca are starting to become
nervous about Thrust's obsessive behavior. Wade hopes that, once the
T-Rex has been killed, Thrust will settle down. Then he goes off for
a little reconnaissance. Climbing up a small rise, Wade is able to look
down into the T-Rex's home area. A falling rock results in a metallic
clunking sound, and Wade goes down to investigate. Running back, he
excitedly tells the others of finding the Borer, which can quickly be
made ready (like I said before, this is one tough piece of machinery).
Thrust, however, is now in full Ahab mode. This is another scene rife
with those `dramatic' musical curlicues. Thrust listens to Wade's news,
and then shouts, "No!" (Curlicue) He states that they can't leave until
the T-Rex is dead. (Curlicue) Wade argues. Thrust reminds Wade that,
"you work for me." (Curlicue) Wade replies that they're leaving anyway.
Francesca tries to talk to Thrust, but Wade tells her not to bother.
(Curlicue) Loyal Bunta, of course, stays with Thrust, although he does
stop him from firing a crossbow bolt into the retreating Wade.
(Curlicue) Now we really get silly. Thrust petulantly runs at Hazel,
scaring her. (Curlicue) Then he kicks at the campfire. (Curlicue) Need
I point out that this fails to add the dramatic `oomph' that the
filmmakers were obviously striving for? And as a side note, looking
at how bloated Thrust still is, well, you'd think that the year or
whatever that they've spent here in Jurassic Park would have
slimmed him down a bit. But if anything, he looks fatter than ever.
We cut to Wade and Francesca. By building a trail of logs to slide the
Borer along, they have managed to get it back to the water. I'm
presuming that this took another, oh, six months or so. (Assuming
that it was possible for two people to move this thing in the first
place.) Luckily, in spite of the fact that the Borer was nested in
the T-Rex's bone strewn lair, the T-Rex apparently never showed up
during this period to interfere with their work. And again, looking
at the `full-size' Borer prop, I must reiterate that it looks a mite on
the smallish side. In fact, it's frankly impossible to believe that five
normal people could fit inside this thing, much less a group including
the bulbous Thrust and the towering Bunta. Soon after `launching' the
Borer, Wade has managed to activate it. He's really pretty handy,
when you consider that he's a geologist by training, not a mechanic
or an electrician. (Of course, Sci-Fi Movie Cliche #29 stipulates
that any Scientist will have functional knowledge of any and all
scientific fields and disciplines, no matter what his specialty may
be.)
Francesca, against Wade's wishes, goes off to offer Thrust one more
chance to leave. Meanwhile, we cut to the oil platform from which
the Borer was launched earlier in the movie. In a jaw-droppingly
obvious bit, the captain tells the remaining monitor guy that the
board of Thrust Industries has decided to shut them down. At eight
o'clock the next morning, he muses, "Mother 1," which is apparently
the platform itself, will move on to other job sites. (How the hell
does an entire sea-based oil rig platform get moved from one location
to another?! Are you telling me that this entire thing is mobile?)
And gee, what are the odds that the Borer, lost lo these many months,
now only has six hours before the platform leaves and they are lost
at sea? Wade and Francesca themselves, of course, are unaware of
these events. No, the `clock' element is only there to create
`suspense' for the audience. (Nice try. Not.) Not that it makes sense
anyway. Doesn't the Borer carry a radio? Emergency rations? We know
it floats (not to mention that it's practically indestructible), so
even if Mother 1 takes off, couldn't they broadcast an SOS and wait for
rescue?
Bunta's out traipsing in the woods. He's using all his `world's
greatest' tracking skills, honed by months of life or death struggle
in this savage land, to find that wily ol' T-Rex. Needless to say, at
one point he looks up from the ground, and there it is, towering right
over him. (How it's able to maneuver silently through the heavily wooded
forests is left to our imaginations.) Bunta leaps up and tosses a spear,
but nails a tree instead. Gee, maybe if he had a bigger target. Anyway,
that's it for Bunta. Back at Thrust's camp, Francesca shows up, still
trying to get Thrust to come back to civilization with them. Thrust
tells her to get out. (Curlicue) She asks him to go. He asks her to
stay. Thrust now has his Big Speech, relating his belief of how life
is better, purer, here. Although attracted to his vision (yeah,
right), Francesca knows that she must return to the real world.
She offers to stay with him anywhere else he may choose, but not
here. This is the picture's big `romantic scene,' and the omnipresent
theme song plays again, in a lush, `haunting' version in the
background. They kiss (yuck!).
This is interrupted (thank goodness!) by the T-Rex, finally coming down
the trail as planned. The catapult is locked and loaded, and Thrust
runs to the trigger to wait for the right moment. The boulder flies,
smacking the T-Rex directly in the crown of the head. However, we now
get a clue as to how this beast managed to live so long. For the skull
visibly indents when struck by the missile, but once the stone bounces
away, its head miracu
lously pops back into shape! Amazing!!
(This is handily shot in slow-motion, so that we can't help but notice
this phenomenon.) The monster falls. Yet, when the dust settles, we
see that the T-Rex is back on its feet. Enraged, Thrust tosses some
kind of presumably homemade gas bombs at it (where the hell did those
come from?). Despite this fusillade, the creature comes on and destroys
the catapult. The scene ends with the couple hiding in a flimsy shelter,
apparently at the mercy of the T-Rex.
So how do they escape? I don't know. In the next shot it's morning, and
Thrust and Francesca are examining the splintered catapult. Wade runs
up, warning them that the Borer's limited power supply necessitates an
immediate launch. Francesca makes one more effort to persuade Thrust to
leave. He's given it his best shot, she tells him, but it's time to go
and leave the dinosaur in peace. "It's the last one!", she gasps. He
looks at her, and gives the inevitable line: "So am I." Hey, now I
get it! It's a whole `duality' thing. Wow, amazing how they cleverly
kept this subtle theme as subtext, waiting for this climatic moment
to bring it to the fore. Bravo! (In actuality, I have to wonder at the
statement that the T-Rex is the `last one.' Are you telling me that this
pocket of pre-historic nature has nurtured these animals for all these
millions of years, and that Trust and company just happened to come
upon them right at the exact time that they are completely dying out?
Does this seem likely?)
Heartbroken, the tearful Francesca goes with Wade. They run back to the
Borer. Up on Mother 1, the Captain asks the Commander (or something)
for permission to `raise anchors' and make way (again, can anyone
explain to me how Mother 1 can possibly be mobile?). Suddenly, right
in the nick of time, the radioman announces the receipt of a signal.
Down below, Thrust watches from shore as the Borer takes off. I can't
help but notice the pterodactyls flying around. Aren't they, well,
dinosaurs? Doesn't that blow the whole `The T-Rex is the Last
Dinosaur' thing? As Thrust heads off, he sees Hazel nearby,
watching him. Rather grumpily, he finally accepts her presence
(after all, Francesca is gone, so what the heck?). As they walk
off-camera, we hear T-Rex roars on the soundtrack, then a reprise
of our theme song. Hey, let me try some lyrics! "It made me laugh/it
made me snore/It is The Last.Dina-sore!!"
Permission to reprint this article was granted by Ken Begg
Copyright of Ken's World of Bad Movies
Visit the Ken's Bad Movie page at: http://www.nrx.net/badmovies/
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