Welcome to the first, and hopefully not last, chronicle of two bored men search for the absolute worst movies that were put to film, video or whatever. Double Features, Creature Features, and other botched visions that proudly wear the badge "Direct to" before your preferred format.
The Drive-In gave way to Betamax, which fell to the clutches of VHS, bringing us to the dawn of the DVD. Why bother spending the extra cash?
Well for one, to answer the question that gnaws you in the depths of the night: "Did they truly think they were making a real movie?"
Moving along, as for the debut screening of 'Bad Movie Night', we went to the local branch of a rental conglomerate based in Dallas, and perused the New Releases. We didn't want to review something that had already been seen countless times before by fellow searchers for something to do so boy, did we find a winner to start things up.
Cryptz just jumped off the racks and into our hands. It seemed to have everything: strippers, vampires, vampire strippers, struggling rappers, mystic symbols and hocus-pocus, a little kung fu and the token mystic spiritual warrior.
No Captain Kronos here, this guy's ripped. Even better, no story line to get you confused. Any and all intoxicating substances could (and probably should) be ingested prior to and during the "viewing" of this "masterwork".
We open up with Tymez Skwair (pronounced Square; oh yeah, you read that right). He's one of the three mentioned struggling rappers, but he doesn't have Kim Basinger as his mom. After being bawled at by his mom for being a bum, he runs into his 'homies', Likrish (funny) and Fuzzy Down (huh?). That about sums up the performances, with Likrish playing Chris Tucker but flat.
Photo Taken By Rachelle Sadler
They run into a 'hoochie mama', Stesha, with the worst boob job you've seen on oh so high quality video (not counting Lexus Locklear); but at least they're big and cradled in a cut tank top with a single word across them with, you guessed it, "Cryptz". Tymez runs some game, and gets his cheek brushed. Useless jawing ensues about how to find Stesha's place of employment.
This leads them to call the resident mystic, Truck. After hearing where Stesha works, he recommends that his friends tie Tymez up to his bed before sundown. Needless to say, that is wack and gay to boot. No 'OG' rapper is going to be tied down to his bed by another man. Sundown falls, and Tymez' cheek starts stinging. Tymez is blessed with divine directions and they drive their way to club Cryptz.
They enter and are frisked by a huge 'mofo' named Buffalo. More useless dialogue ensues, then finally we get to Cryptz (cue scary music).
Up to this point, they've employed guerilla-filming techniques to cut down the budget. If you're still looking for the budget in this movie, you have greater hopes than we had. One pole, one dancer (who they keep showing, fully clothed for almost 8 minutes!), a sexy gothed-out waitress and a smaller cousin to Pete Steele or Glenn Danzig as the DJ.
Here's the rest. Truck is called, the humans are captured to be food for the vampire queen, Truck shows up, necks are snapped, blood is spilled, breasts are exposed, and some very imaginary plot lines are woven in an attempt to wrap up the whole stinking, rotting mess.
Okay, the important details; three pairs of breasts, four eviscerations and three necks broken- best performed by Truck who hangs from a ceiling piping to snap Fuzzy's with his legs. The best killing scene goes to Likrish who cracks an undead servant's head a couple hundred times against the wall to have hot pink sludge fall out of his mouth. Passable Kung Fu (Truck is played by Morpheus' stunt double). A painful script, with even worse pacing that ran at least 30 minutes too long.
Photo Taken By Rachelle Sadler
We rate this one in nipple clamps- that is the measure of how much torture was inflicted upon us. We give it four out of five. See it tonight.
Think you've seen a worse movie? Are you tempted by something at the store but are too wimpy to view it yourself? E-mail any and all suggestions (that are not called Manos: Hands of Fate) to: Rama@canyonnewspaper.com