Pretentious_crap I wouldn't recommend this movie for anyone, just avoid it. May this never be resurrected in an anthropological excavation-- another reason why it's a shame that it takes a thousand years for plastic and resin based garbage to decompose.This movie is like listening to a drunken, ignorant, old man. At first it's rather funny because he can't make any sense, and the things he's saying are outlandish. However, within thirty-minuets, he circles in his logic and it gets rather tiresome. To top it off, he talks increasingly slower. Then, he contemplates his existence and can't make sense of it, he has a brain aneurysm and abruptly dies; sadly you don't care because he was a wife-beating, drunk.When all is said and done, this movie is boring and irritating. You can see the same ending in one of the closing scenes in an older, much much more hilarious movie, "The Creeping Terror". Matter afact, see "The Creeping Terror" instead (that is if you find z-grade trash amusing)!

Woodyanders The unfairly neglected cheap-rubber-monster-suit-on-the-loose flick, a rather abundant and often entertainingly abysmal 70's nickel'n'dime horror film sub-genre, hits one of its all-time most delightfully dreadful lows with this simply pathetic entry featuring a once-in-a-lifetime Hall of Shame has-been faded name star cast who should have called it quits a good ten years ago.A green-skinned bloodsucking slime creature (Jeff Schwaab in an extremely hokey and unconvincing shabby rubber suit) prays upon the various dim-witted hayseed locals in some lousy bayou burg located in Wisconsin. Out to stop the vile beast are geriatric Dr. Brad Wednesday (a long in the tooth Marshall Thompson), equally aged pathologist/gratuitous love interest Ginny Glenn (the similarly over the hill Gloria De Haven, who also plays a creepy, withered, fright-wigged old hag witch complete with creaky, rasping voice who looks after the monster), and paunchy, ineffectual redneck Sheriff Neal Rydholm (the inescapable Aldo Ray, delivering a typically woozy, glassy-eyed, two pints under "I hope my paltry $300 dollar check I'm making for acting in this turkey clears so I can score more booze" performance). Why, even yet another far past his prime fuddy dud thesp Leo Gordon pops up in the last few reels as your basic googly-moogly swamp monster expert from the big city.Man, does this stinker reek worse than dirty unwashed socks: we've got excruciatingly slow pacing, severely chintzy'n'ratty production values, clumsy use of freeze frames, a foul, grainy, washed-out look, some uproariously awful dialogue ("From the way these women are acting we aren't going to see any action in years!"), inept, zingless direction by Don Kesslar, no energy to speak of, a thuddingly dull emphasis on boring chitchat, uniformly flat and uninteresting characters, tedious acting from a noticeably out of it cast, annoying constant references to fishing for muskie, and an unforgettably horrid country and western theme song called "Walk With Me" that's tunelessly warbled by the tone deaf Pat Hopkins. All of these toxically terrible ingredients do their proverbial best/worst to make this brain-numbing abomination an oddly enjoyable, but undeniably wretched clunker of a shoddy fright feature. Nicest cruddy touch: the way the camera pans away at the last minute and zooms in on a gripping close-up of a nearby bush whenever the monster attacks someone, therefor entreating the frustrated and dissatisfied viewer to the victim's shrill, piercing off-screen cries of bloodcurdling terror as the beast allegedly rips 'em to shreds.

hatred "Bog" is a complex movie of many parts, what some would call a mystery wrapped in a riddle, enveloped in an enigma, drenched in hatred. However, despite the immediate allure of this modern retelling of the classic tale, the dip thirsty bog creature soon chaffes beyond all previously recorded levels. The scene where the creature emerges from his filthy lair and proceeds to hurl wildly outrageous claims at the townsfolk is one thing - however, when the dip cups begin to pile up and the horrifying creature pulls out the guitar, it is almost too much to watch. The viewer is left to ponder the wild fabrications of this primordial monster and cannot help but feel the pain in this fratted-out lair of terrible run-on stories and hair blowdriers. The viewer can only be left as a battered, broken shell of their previous self, completely devoid of all value and fully revirginified. Fantastic performances by Liam and the Firecracker.

Kooblie-Gooblie There must be many different ways to look at BOG. I, however, can't find any of them. One has to wonder why the creators of this cinematic gem never chose to insert a "The" before the title, why an actress obviously plays two parts, or why the titular "bog" in question is actually a lake. Possibly the only defining moments in this film can be seen during the preview. Pay special attention to the cop who, completely off-cue, screams out "Look, look! Hey, look over there! Look!" Now there's some classic dialogue.