We've all made terrible mistakes in our choices of midnight viewing in the past, every single one of us. Be it sitting through Midnight Meat Train and expecting a coherent story line or checking out that new French torture film your mate told you about through choked tears and swallowed bile, we've all done it. You find yourself a little teased by 20 minutes film time, by the 50 minute mark you're thinking "Where are you taking me? You cheeky shrew". Then, as soon as the credits start rolling, you find yourself searching for the receipt that will give you your 90 minutes back. Again, you have fallen victim to your own blindfolded curiosity. You absolutely, positively deserve to be lying in that pool of wistful slime right now. Did you not think to Rotten Tomato the movie before partaking in it? You fool.
Of course I'm joking, anyone who relies on the tomato system to filter the shit from their DVD collection should also consider laying in the wistful slime pool. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to dedicate your time to a low-budget horror flick, you know everything that comes with the territory.
Now, unlike Midnight Meat Train, I actually enjoyed The Alien Dead (1980) and I happen to think that writer/director Fred Olen Ray is an absolute gem of humanity for giving us such sleazy titles as Bikini a Go Go (2004), Bikini Chain Gain (2005), The Bikini Escort Company (2006), Bikini Girls from the Lost Planet (2006), Ghost in a Teeny Bikini (2006), Bikini Pirates (2006) and of course, The Teenie Weenie Bikini Squad (2012). Fred's filmography is as long as the queue of hopeful country girls outside his office, and it's as low-budget as their outfits. I'd wager you'd hardly be able to afford a second-hand copy of last month's wank mag for the moolah that Fred puts into most of his films. Does that make him a bad person? No, it makes him a genius person. Shame on your for thinking otherwise.
But before Fred Olen Ray found himself in a giant pile of blondes, boobies and beach balls, he was, as most were at the time, a zombie guy.
1980 was a great year for zombie flicks. We were given City of the Living Dead (Fulci), Nightmare City (Lenzi), Zombie Holocaust (Girolami) and a number of other TV movies that may have fallen under the radar. While 1980 was a good year for great zombie films, unfortunately, Alien Dead wasn't one of them.
Now like I said before, I actually enjoyed this film. It was hardly Fulci, but damn it; sometimes I like my zombie horror to be as brainless as its undead antagonists. I'm just a sucker for alien parasites and the human hosts they choose to wreak their unholy agenda through. Though the movie certainly was my cup of tea, I know that a lot of people don't like their tea the way I like my tea. A lot of people call my tea stupid. It's too milky! How long did you leave the teabag in for? Where's the sugar? Fuck you.
So, if you are feeling adventurous and aren't afraid of possibly wasting an hour or so of your time on a film you may not like, then I'd highly recommend The Alien Dead. If you have read your way through all the IMDBs and Rotten Tomatoes and you're still a skeptic, then I'd like to offer you a number of alternatives to watching the film. That's the kind of straight up, classy guy that I am.
1. Hunt elk using only your bare hands.
If you're anything close to normal, then nothing pisses you off quite like some smarmy woodland creature taking up lots of space and looking all majestic and serene. If you live in the Americas and are of the animal killing persuasion, then I'd suggest walk into your nearest national park and leave with at least five heads. How else are you going to prove to your friends how heartless you are? Rip its head off with your bare hands, eat its heart, drink deep in your own superiority.
2. Make a kissing booth.
In the 1950s, this may have been cute and a great way to vacuum teenage girls and greasers into the capitalism game, but in 2013; it may be a hot ticket to a prison term. But don't let the very real possibility of a sex offense derail you, if you market your new business just the right way, no one will be able to touch you. All you need to do is befriend some very powerful people, politicians, corporate CEOs, the kind of people whose reputation could be sullied if it came to light that they were harbouring a sex criminal. Now, once you've established close contact with one of these people, you make them an offer; invest in your kissing booth or be outed as a mouth rapist. Once they've given you all the immunity you can wrap your sweaty palms around, you can go back to kissing small children and get paid for it because that's how politics works. Good job.
3. Learn how to make spaghetti.
I've just finished this very assignment myself. It tasted great, but what of you and your skills? For a start, I'd recommend you watch at least ten episodes of Come Dine With Me. Listen to the words of Dave Lamb, notice how he doesn't give any of the contestants even a pinch of esteem, he's a bit of a cunt, isn't he? Well that's exactly how you need to be from now on. Cooking for friends in a relaxed setting is not for the feint of heart, you need to be strong, impenetrable and vicious in your trade. Greet your demons, ask them their names and get to know them because they are your only allies in the kitchen. Set ablaze the structure that was once your pitiful empathy, and from the bones of the weak you must build a monument to power in its place. Now you cut the onions.
4. Set up a Myspace and converse with lonely one-man black metal musicians.
They're out there, man, just waiting for someone to click "play" on the first track of their two track, 90 minute demo recording. Go ahead, do it, you'll make Repulsor's day. He might even want to keep in touch with you, just humor him, he really needs that right now. He's in a bad place. No one seems to want to listen to any of his awesome keyboard-driven black metal songs anymore. It was different in 2005, everyone wanted a piece of him then, but since the great evacuation of Myspace; he's utterly lost. You might be the one to break through his cold shell, he might even ask you to play drums. Do you want to play drums on his upcoming album, "A Blaze in the Northern Guy"? I think you should, you could make his day. Some people just need a friend, you know?
5. Spice up your sex life using food.
Nothing says "I love you" like covering your partner with the leftovers from last night's stir-fry and scraping it back off of them with a spoon. Look at how beautifully your partner's skin glistens in the sweet n' sour goodness, doesn't this remind you of your first date? How they'd look at you with those sparkling, meatball eyes and purse their delicate, sausage roll lips. I know you've drifted as of late, but let the take-away down the road solve all of your problems. Use each others bodies as custard bowls and inhale deeply the fumes of passion.
6. Insult people on the Internet until the bad dreams go away.
Quickly, that anonymous forum user expressed an opinion that is contrary to your own. Oh now look, they've uploaded an image of their cat and you don't think it's THAT cute. You must make them feel your unrelenting keyboard fury. Don't go easy on them now, they knew what they were getting themselves in for when they crossed through your neckbeard of the woods. Go and take out all of your militant atheist fury on them, your opinions vs their opinions, your righteous victory will ensure that you never wake up in a cold sweat after a nightmare about those terrible bullies. You must let the world know that DarkTrance88 is the coolest, most scientific, most nerdy, most military-trained man on the internet. If your overwhelming logic doesn't best them, then be sure to tell them that they're retarded for not owning a gaming PC.
7. Sell Oxycodone from an ice cream truck.
Kids just aren't interested in "kids stuff" anymore. They don't want to be soldiers, princesses or tiny Japanese mutants anymore. They want to be pop stars, pop stars and pop stars. Keep up with the times man, that old ice cream truck is worthless now, unless you take a different approach to your business. What do pop stars like? Debilitating drugs of course! Go on, give those X-factor hopefuls a head start on their pop careers and sell them some hillbilly heroin. They'll go crazy for the stuff, you won't know WHERE the money is coming from. Then, when you're counting your pennies, you can look on at all of your good work and reap the true reward of dealing drugs to shallow pop-culture victims; a child's doped-up smile.