I am an unhappy Incarnation of Doom. I’ve been fooled. No, it wasn’t Loki. It was Fred Olen motherfucking Ray. He tricked me into watching Biohazard again. I can tell you right now I never had any desire to do such a thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was on my list of things never to do again, right after drinking too much around transvestites.
Okay, so it was technically a different movie, in that it was filmed by a different crew, with a different cast and a different monster suit, in different locations. But make no mistake about it, this is still fucking Biohazard. And what’s worse, it’s got a bigger budget, more gore, better monster effects, and it’s STILL MORE BORING THAN FUCKING BIOHAZARD!
To be fair, I should really pay more attention to the boxes at the video store. I was just looking for a quick review flick, saw Charles Napier’s name mentioned in the same sentence with an alien monster, and failed to pay attention enough to the credits to notice that it was a FRED OLEN RAY MOVIE! I can not stress enough how important it is to make sure the movie you’re considering renting does not say Fred Olen Ray anywhere on it. In fact, even if it was sitting next to a Fred Olen Ray movie on the shelf, you may want to reconsider. I don’t care if what you’re carrying around is Citizen Cane or Twelve Angry Men or Benji: The Hunted, there’s a very good chance that some Fred Olen Ray-ness has soaked into your movie and made it suck. But I should probably just get to the point here, huh?
A flaming space object named Capricorn One has crashed to earth, causing great consternation among a group of scientists. Seems they’ve been developing an unstoppable new bio-weapon (do scientists really do anything besides develop unstoppable new bio-weapons?), and it was aboard Cap 1 when it crashed. The creature, still in its dormant stage, vampires a couple of necking teens via prehensile feeding tubes exuded from its cocoon, and the police move in to investigate. The crash was witnessed by a bum (do bums really do anything besides witness alien monsters crashing to earth in meteors?).
Tough-cop-who-doesn’t-play-by-the-rules-and-gets-things-done-by-bucking-authority Ian and his partner Jerry are on the case, taking the huge cocoon and several egg-like objects back to the forensics lab, where the genius forensics officer drills the cocoon open and gets eaten by the Queen Alien’s midget cousin. Except instead of a second set of jaws in the tongue, this creature eats people with its pronounced beer gut.
Now here’s where we get to why this movie, even though it calls itself Deep Space, is still goddamn Biohazard. An old psychic broad has been calling the police station asking for Ian, and when she finally contacts him, she tells him all about what’s going to happen. The monster takes up residence in a run-down old warehouse, and the eggs start hatching, including the one Jerry took home with him. Guess who’s not coming to dinner because he has a cheap face hugger knockoff burrowing around in his belly?
Jerry hooks up with hot (and I use the term more loosely than a cowboy’s ass on the open range) new cop in town Carla, and they go on a monster hunting mission. They come upon the creature in its lair just after it has eaten the warehouse night guard in a scene that so rips off Alien, right down to the dangling chains and dripping water and the posture the monster assumes behind the victim, that Ridley Scott probably felt someone was pooping on his grave when they shot the scene.
Jerry’s entomologist buddy has given them a jar of poison with which to dispatch the insectoid creature, and so they do. Jerry shoves the poison into its beer gut maw, shoots the holy shit out of it with several guns, and decapitates it with a chainsaw.
Fine, so the feds aren’t actually aliens at the end, and the credits are desperately lacking a really cool Johnny Legend song (the only redeeming factor about Biohazard), but it’s the same thing. Trust me.
Dammit, Fred, just leave me the hell alone! I never did anything to you. Sure, there was that thing with your son and the chickens, but that was a long time ago and the judge proclaimed me not guilty, so the law’s on my side, bucko. But if you ever trick me into watching a shitty rehash of one of your shitty movies again, something ugly is going to happen. Like maybe I’ll strap you to a chair and force you to watch every movie Michael Pataki was ever in Clockwork Orange-style. And I know what you’re thinking - “Hey, Michael Pataki’s been in some okay stuff. I’ve been meaning to watch Halloween 4 again anyway.” And to that I say, “Yeah, but he was in It Lives By Night and Sidehackers too. Suck on that.”
Moral of the Story: When you’re treading the thin ice of renting a crappy, but not too crappy movie for a fun rainy afternoon, pay very close attention to all the words on the box.
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