Yes, the first title that caught my eye like a gleaming copper penny was Robo Vampire, the Robocop plagiarized tale of a narcotics agent who dies in the line of duty and is rebuilt into the ultimate law enforcement melding of man and machine to combat merciless drug cartels and their army of ravenous undead vampire mercenaries... well, take out everything in those last few sentences that sounds cool and that's what you're really stuck in the ass with. Cinemasochists, even you will be left a quivering mass of pale and unwashed flesh when that low-tech, white on red cel denoting "THE END" hits your TV screen, whether it be 13" or 37", it won't matter, because it will be the end for you.

Our tale of pain begins with a group of American commandos/soldiers of fortune/random strolling goons armed with automatic rifles as they march a couple of Chinese/Laotian/Vietnamese prisoners at gunpoint through a seemingly abandoned piece of jungle property, when suddenly they're assaulted by some hopping vampires and flying serpents! Okay, so the snakes can't fly, but they sure do fly freely out of coffins for a reptile species without legs... only 2 minutes into the movie and already Tang is ripping off Q*Bert with spring loaded snakes... if I cut off my hands, does that mean I get out of typing the rest of this review? No? Shit.

Okay, anyway, the crackers are disposed of via the hopping undead assassins and that scene comes to a speedy, albeit no less painful, end. Meanwhile, American/Italian/Polish heroin smugglers lament over recent problems with anti-narcotics agents fucking up their business dealings in Hong Kong/Argentina/Florida. The more specific thorn in their scrotums is agent Tom Wilde-with-an-'e', secret agent "double 0 bland", whom I believe we can all foresee as the unlucky stiff who will become our protagonist... though there's NOTHING "pro" to be had from this venture in even the most desperate grab.

Since they're not crafty enough on their own to get the hemorrhoid that is agent Wilde-with-an-'e' off their rosy cheeks, the smugglers (whose boss looks like the skinny second cousin of Ron Jeremy) have hired the talents of a Taoist priest to train some hopping vampires in the fine art of killing off badly dubbed extras in military fatigues. Can this combating of uncanny blanditude with supernatural cheeseballiness prove triumphant for the nationality-confused bad guys? I really don't care, and if you have a sliver of good sense in your head, neither will you. From this we turn our focus to said priest to check in on how the vampire training is going. The scene turns into a tragically unhip Mr. Vampire knock-off, complete with two bumbling sidekicks having comical Three Stooges mishaps with a room full of vamps, until their boss, the Tao priest, appears to save them and sedate the undead. I'd just like to take this chance to apologize to the eternal souls of Moe Howard, Curly Howard, Shemp Howard and Larry Fine for mentioning their act in a review for a Tomas Tang production/bowel movement... though I make no such amends to the spirit of that Curly-Joe guy, because he just wasn't funny and ruined Moe and Larry for me.

In an effort to blend this collection of random scenes from two completely different, unfinished movies (the Tang trademark), the film's dubbed dialogue makes sure to add in the mention of "drugs" as a general statement. For instance, during this half-assed sequence, while one of the stooges is lighting incense in the vampires' coffins, he makes sure to ask them to "Please, bless our drugs.", followed at the end by the priest's explanation that the vampires came to life because their voodoo zombie dust was replaced with rice powder, hence it's ineffectiveness. The problem here, other than the obvious continued Mr. Vampire theft? The zombie dust is instead referred to as "our drugs"... I guess it's a show of strengthened equality and fairness in Tang pictures when they decide not to discriminate with labels like "cocaine, "heroin" or "angel dust", instead putting everything under the category of "the drugs" or "our drugs". Tomas Tang, the Martin Luther King Jr. of narcotics in movies.

Back to the drug kingpin Mr. Young, he's informing his employees of the news from management for a shift from their drug smuggling "cover up" to one of exporting dead bodies. Yes, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you (unless these words are turning into inch worms crawling across your screen), as Young did indeed refer to their narcotics trade as a "cover up"... WHO WROTE THIS FUCKING DUB?! What is the drug smuggling a "cover up" for, black market babies?! The white slave trade?! A preschooler prostitution ring?! SELLING NUCLEAR ARMS TO DR. DOOM?!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?! I needs me a stiff drink, a Vietnamese whore and a Stuart Gordon movie... Anyway, the dead bodies in question are animal corpses, in which the smuggles sew up bags of "the drugs" to sneak past customs. And yes, they actually cut open a horse for a Tomas Tang movie. Finally! A way to stop Tang's reign of terror! Somebody call the ASPCA, if they can't put an end to his empire of evil, then no one can, and we're all doomed... Then again, forget that entire last sentence, since it's the ONLY TIME THE DEAD BODY SMUGGLING IS REFERENCED FOR THE ENTIRE MOVIE. Huh, guess they realized what a pointless plot point that was and dropped it immediately. That, or they just needed an excuse to show a woman stuffing a horse's body with "drugs".

Back at the vampire factory, the hopping ghoul soldiers are given "more drugs" and awakened with a mystical board game spinner (Twister™ anyone?), only to have the Parker Brothers™ ceremony interrupted by the appearance of a ghost woman (more Mr. Vampire?!) in a see through gown, through which we see that there are no bras after death. Seems the saucy wench is the Yankee lover of one of the priest's frolicking zombie creations, and has come back to put an end to the ceremony so that he may finally be put to rest and join her in the bliss of death, so they may be together as they couldn't be in the physical world, because his parents were real hard-asses when it came to keeping the bloodline untainted by American poison. The two go into a face off over the guy's fate, and even this little disagreement can't be without the horrible Tang taint... First off, the ghost breaks the priest's sword in half just by pointing her finger at it, yet when it comes to fighting the guy, why can't she just point her doom digit at, say, the guy's legs or arms or chest or any part for that matter?! Additionally, when the two go hand-to-hand, the ghost pushes the priest backwards, but when he resists, sparks shoot from under his feet... damn tin soles do that to me every time I get into a tug o' war contest on aluminum siding...

When his priest-fu proves futile against the ectoplasmic judo of the ghost woman, he summons up her vampire hubby (who's wearing a green rubber ape mask ala Godzilla Vs. Mechagodzilla that I'm hoping somebody put on his corpse as a joke, though deep down I known I'm just lying to myself) and a supernatural domestic dispute breaks out. When the hopping and rolling around's all said and done, Peter (the rubber monster masked hubby) ends the struggle when he recognizes the gecko tat on his beloved's thigh and the two are back together. Yes boys and girls, even in death you won't be able to escape that Bea Arthur tattoo on your ass! That'll teach you to pass out in Mexico with me Josh... When it's realized that the monster won't be killing his already dead wife, the kingpin paying the priest for his services offers up the stupidest idea I've heard yet, in a movie already covered in stupid ideas: the priest should marry the two, thereby allowing his control over the newlyweds... excuse me, I think I hear the driver of the little yellow bus honking his horn out in my driveway right now. Yep, that's him, thank you Mr. Tang for making me legally retarded.

Later on, Agent Tom stops the priest and his goons to search them for "the drugs" while they're apparently going for a casual stroll down a beach (?), only to be blown up by vampire pyrotechnics, leaving his body ripe for all kinds of radical government experimentation! That's the best kind! And by "best", I of course mean "absorst", as in "absurd" and "worst". There's NO paperwork involved in the decision, no contacting of next of kin or filing affidavits or medical request forms or consent papers or ANYTHING of the like! The whole "official" documentation of it plays out like this:

Guy In Fatigues #1: "I want to make Tom into a crime fighting robot."
Guy In Fatigues #2: "Do you really have confidence you'll succeed?"
Guy In Fatigues #1: "I've never experimented with anything like this before. In fact, my only previous experience is as a cooking assistant in the mess hall, but Hell, I'll give it a crack!"
Guy In Fatigues #2: "Hey, that's good enough for my official authorization!"
Guy In Fatigues #1: "Uhm, 'official authorization'?! Didn't I see you mopping up vomit in the bathroom last week?"
Guy In Fatigues #2: "Look, do you want to make your robot man or not?"

And so, with a soldering iron, a police riot helmet picked up at an Army surplus shop, a pair of old work gloves, an industrial heat insulation suit and a couple cans of silver spray paint, RoboTom is born! And here I was keeping my fingers crossed for a miscarriage...

And now for Painfully-unbearable-to-watch Scene #72A-12: somewhere in our other movie, a group of smugglers siege a small Cambodian/Indonesian/Tanzanian village in search of, yep, you guessed it, "the drugs". Their search leads them to a preacher who's hiding the dust in a crucifix for some reason that I'm sure the original story probably would've explained better before Tomas Tang got to it. The holy man becomes a hole-filled man and speaking of holes, a tasty young babe with long, straight blond hair appears from nowhere in a bathrobe, brandishing an automatic! After unloading a clip into the camo commandos, she leaps out a window to escape and here's where moment #72A-12 comes in: the person who leaps out the window is obviously NOT the babe, unless she lost her boobs, grew hair on her arms and legs, grew about 5 shoe sizes and a healthy beard, and changed her hair to short, curly, and GREY...

I'll give you a moment to let that sink in...

IT'S NOT AS IF IT WAS A SHORT STUNT EITHER! THERE'S A GOOD WHOLE SECOND TO WITNESS THIS! Yes, I know a second isn't long, but in a moment like this, it IS! Absorst, 100% absorst...

It turns out the "woman" is a narc agent, so the "drugs" smugglers take her hostage for the obligatory rape and torture that comes with working in the business of "drugs". In response, the anti-drug agency sends in a team of special ops (special in that they have names, unlike the other extras who would've gotten credits like "Grunt #7" and "Inept Goon #4"... had there been enough money in the budget for end credits) to penetrate the "Golden Triangle" and save Blondie from Young's clutches... heh heh, I'd penetrate her golden triangle anytime... provided I didn't see flashbacks of Robo Vampire every time I looked into her eyes... ugggggh, I'd feel so dirty... unless I kept my eyes closed... which would really ruin the point of sticking the ol' Anubis bratwurst to a hot broad... eh, screw it, masturbation is so much simpler... Anyway, enough of this tripe, let's get back to our other movie, shall we? No? Well, too bad, cuz we're going anyway.

The newly remodeled darling of the cyborg police force circle has some vampires (and one guy in a rubber ape mask) to exterminate, so RoboTom heads into action. The less said about that the better, so let's jump back to the other story, where the rescue team confronts a troupe of bad guys on a river/marsh/fiord before getting their asses yanked from the frying pan by a second team of soldiers who are there to help in the rescue. Afterwards, they seek out one of the thugs responsible for beating on Blondie, finding him in a public arm wrestling match that turns from an Over The Top into a Stop, Or My Mom Will Shoot! knife fight into a Rambo III gunfire exchange before ending in a, uhm, Tango & Cash/Judge Dredd/Daylight finale... thinking is hard.

Back to RoboTom's tale, he faces off against the undead on a beach, and this scene leads to one of two theories: everybody in this movie was taught by Godzilla's running buddy Angilas in the eternal art of DIG POWER (!!!) or there's a complex network of caves underneath all that sand, because RoboTom and the hopping goons seem to have no problem disappearing under the surface one moment and appearing up from it 30ft away the next. Oh yeah, and in the exchange of ballet prancing and kung-fu sissy slaps we discover just what Chinese vampires wear under them robes: black slacks and matching shirts. Yes, though they're dead it doesn't mean they can't dress in casual style! Hey, wait a second, the reason Chinese vampires hop is courtesy of rigor mortis, and despite the fact these goons hop around, they have NO trouble doing backflips and other gymnastics that require a limber fellow to pull off... just keep twistin' the knife Tang, see what it gets you when you die...

As for RoboTom, despite his "advanced mechanics", his aim is either REALLY pathetic (try aiming toward the vampires Tom) or his mechanisms are REALLY slow, to the point that it takes him a few seconds to get his gun into position, by which time the target has already moved 5 feet to the left... When he proves useless in the fight against evil, RoboTom becomes the target of the smugglers' bazooka, resulting in good ol' Painfully-unbearable-to-watch Scene #562B-41: RoboTom is blown up by said bazooka... or rather a life-size tin foil body suit suspended from a pole is blown up by said bazooka... there's that burning ulcer eating through my soul again... See the below screenshots for further illustration of this, one of the most painful moments in my life.

Even though Señor Jiffy Pop gets turned into many pieces of scorched tin foil and sent to the four winds, his creators chalk it up as a simple "short circuit" and need nothing more than a cordless screwdriver, a 4th Of July sparkler and a piece of stove pipe to once more make the tin (painted) man functional, just as stiff and slow as he ever was. Speaking of "stiff", elsewhere we watch two rescue squad members frolic in a watering hole (and yes, they're of OPPOSITE sex), then peak in on the undead couple of the ghost and the ape vampire makin' zombie monkey passion... I don't know where the love-in suddenly came from, but it's freakin' me out and I can't take it after the shit grinder I've already been dragged through so far! Even RoboTom's having flashbacks of his woman, back before his dick was replaced with a vacuum cleaner attachment... Everybody's gettin' laid but me, and I'm NOT in a Tomas Tang movie! How does that work?!!?!

When they're done bumpin' uglies (in the literal sense), the ghoulish couple turn their attentions on RoboTom for a super-freak three-way the likes of which Roger Corman could only dream of... until he could scrounge up $50 to make his own movie about it...

Tom's not into the concept though and the three instead rumble, with RoboTom getting his shiny lamé pec implants trounced. Back in the Golden Triangle, the rescue squad storms Young's HQ, and I suffer from repeated UHF flashbacks as wave after wave of anonymous bad guy lackeys fall down in unison as soon as the narcs point their guns at them, only here's it's not meant to be funny. Some guys leap into the picture, only to fall down as soon as they hit their feet! I'm getting flashbacks of those spring loaded snakes again! Blargh!

And so, this movie comes to an end as the Narcs blow up the base, kill all the villains and save the blond broad, who's left a babbling lunatic anyway thanx to the Chinese water torture... the lamest torture this side of the "feed them fancy, expensive food and tell them how much money they're wasting by not eating it despite it's horrible taste" torture, often followed by the "poor people in other countries are starving while you throw away your food and don't appreciate the fact that you've got food" torture.

But, don't get your party whistles and confetti out yet you little punks, because RoboTom's still got some time left to jerk us around some more. Speaking of which, in our other movie, RoboTom fights with more of them bouncing drag queens with fangs and flailing sleeves, and appears to have a hard time keeping a straight face while doing so... unless he's just trying to see over his stupid helmet's visor and chunky chin strap...

After disposing of the second hand vamps momentarily, RoboTom gets into the worst chase sequence this side of Night Ripper as he slowly pursues the hopping superbeast bloodsucker simian with his highest possible Nazi goosesteps as his *whir*ing silver (painted) legs get him going at a full speed of 0.06mph... that's technology for ya kids, ain't she a beaut?

When he finally gets tired of his own incompetence with a firearm, Tom starts using his arm cannon as it's secondary function: clubbing the vampires with his Robo-wrath. Meanwhile the Taoist and the ghost bride go at it again, but this time the priest's exploding magic sword proves more effective, defeating the phantom's spinning parasol and flying 5 piece nightgown attack until he ends the one-on-one by writing something on her bare tits with what I'm presuming is a magic substance... girls, don't worry so much about your bra size, because in the end, tits, no matter how nice or round or full, can't beat magic... Then again, that's not entirely true, because the ghost has enough strength left in her to claw the priest's face, somehow killing him instantly.... riiiiiiiiiight...

Okay, just a couple more cast members to kill off and we're finally done with it! Speaking of which, let's get these guys out of here. The vampire goons are turned into zombie particles when RoboTom's gun suddenly starts working and he figures out how to aim and blows 'em up real good... or moderately good considering the environment... And finally, that ape faced super simian hemoglobin slurper finds oblivion at the licks of RoboTom's flamethrower... which of course is really just a burning effigy on a rope... another absorst ending for another absorst Tommy Tang tragedy. :::Anubis puts on his Brazilian soccer jersey::: "At least we are... ALIVE!".

I really shouldn't need to say much as you already know how I feel about this abomination both as a whole log of steaming refuse and also as all it's smaller nuggetine components, so I'll try to keep it short. Besides, if you still don't believe me on it's level of craptitude, just check out the screen shots below and let your eyes serve to school you where your common sense and trust in my opinion have failed.

First things first, as far as our protagonist goes, RoboWarrior (whom I've been referring to as "RoboTom") is without a doubt the cheapest, saddest, most Ed Wood-ian roboman to hit my eyeballs since the cast of Robot Holocaust filled my VCR with their tear-jerking dollar store costumes and grade school nativity acting. As far as the flick's "creative" crew goes, my new worst nightmare came to us not only courtesy of the diseased mind and perverse sense of humor of Tomas Tang, but was written by David Broadnax and directed (the RoboTom and vampires bejeezus garbage) by John Carter and Joe Livingstone (the hostage rescue crap). It's no shock that Livingstone has no other credits, while the others' only credits are on Zombie Island Massacre... As for Tang's other crimes, well, shit on him, I don't need his bullshit anymore after sitting through the movie AND doing such a big stupid review on it. When will I learn that just because his last name is "Tang" does NOT mean the promise of sweet and thirst quenching cinematic goodness with sass-spouting orangutans? When Osiris, when do I get to see the goddamn sailboat?!

The best thing I can compare Robo Vampire to, would have to be Sadako's phantom public access show in The Ring (or Ringu depending on how anal you like to get over titles), in that it will make no sense and eventually kill you. Whether it's from a rubber faced ape vampire actually appearing to end your life or from a suicide driven home by constant daily internal struggles of "How did that movie ever get produced?!", "Tomas Tang has proven to me that Satan does exist, because he is, uhm, he." and so forth, YOU WILL DIE. This will require a lot of convulessing. I'm talking about 5 straight hours of Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, 3 half gallon containers of "Moose Tracks" iced cream and some INCREDIBLE sexual healing, the likes of which will leave me comatose for a good 2 or 3 days... better call work, cuz this is gonna be a long "mental health" week...