COIN-OP REVIEW: Captain America and the Avengers (1991)

A.K.A., that other Marvel-licensed beat-em-up that was a staple in arcades across America throughout the early ‘90s …

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Comic Review: Marvel's "The Toxic Avenger!" (1991)

In the early 1990s, the house Spidey built ran a comic based on Troma’s flagship character for 11 issues … and surprisingly, it wasn’t half bad.

By: Jimbo X
JimboXAmerican@gmail.com

I know I’ve said this before, but it absolutely BLOWS my mind that somehow, someway, The Toxic Avenger — a no-budget splatter movie whose highlights include children having their heads squished by drunk drivers and morbidly obese men having their intestines yanked out of their stomach cavities — was transformed into a children’s property, complete with Nintendo games, a toy line from the same people behind Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and, of course, a short-lived cartoon on Fox Kids. To this day I have no idea how such an arrangement came to be, with seemingly the only reasonable explanation being “cocaine, and a whole lot of it.”

But no siree, the kidification of Toxie didn’t stop there. The Toxic Avenger also managed to land not just one, but two different Marvel Comics series. While the second was based upon the Toxic Crusaders cartoon (and thus, was naturally inclined to be a little more subdued, thematically), its forerunner was based explicitly — and I mean that in more ways than one — on the original Troma film trilogy.

Millions of fans? That seems like
a bit of an overestimate, don't
it?

Penned by veteran comic scribe Doug Moench (who is probably best known for an insanely long run on Master of Kung Fu back in the day), I think it’s safe to say expectations for the series were pretty low. But as it turns out, the 11-issue run isn’t bad at all … in fact, I’d go as far to say that it’s actually a pretty fun and inventive take on Troma’s marquee character that somehow manages to stay true to his cinematic roots even without all of the copious violence and nudity.

With artwork supplied by Rodney Ramos and Val Mayerik, the series looks WAY better than you’d expect. And while the comic does play it fast and loose with the official Toxie canon, that’s not to say it didn’t get away with some pretty risque material. Indeed, for a comic published by Marvel in the early, pre-Image 1990s, it does push the boundaries pretty far, complete with a few uncensored swear words sprinkled in with the exploded limbs and gruesome zombies whose skin is so rotten it’s practically gelatinous.

The series does a pretty good job of keeping Toxie’s personality aligned to the movies, even if his created-for-the-comics catchphrase “omgowa” feels really forced and out of place. After recapping the character’s origin — it’s close enough to what we see in the first movie to avoid any complaints — it doesn’t take long for the comic to start blazing its own trail, introducing a new central antagonist — a devilish CEO named simply “The Chairman” who has two demonic dragons flying in and out of his mouth — who immediately begins plans to take over Tromaville using a bevy of toxic waste-spawned atrocities.

And admittedly, we do have some pretty cool original villains show up. The first couple of rogues are by-the-numbers goons and thugs with generic mutation gimmicks, but things pick up considerably when The Chairman contaminates the health club from the original movie with a toxic juice that turns all of those hardbodies into undead killing machines. And once Toxic has made mincemeat of them, The Chairman ups the ante by digging up the graves of the dispatched mutants and patchworking them into a ten foot-tall, hulking anti-Toxie called Biohazard … which is actually a pretty badass villain, if just in terms of aesthetics alone.

Of course, showing a body explode into a shower of limbs and appendages is just peachy as long as no bloods or innards are visible ...

But really, the highlight of the series has to the the “Souvlaki Sewer Syndrome” two-parter in issues seven and eight. In this mini-arc, The Chairman concocts a wild plan to turn half of New York into irradiated, sewer-dwelling zombies via tainted souvlaki, with the hideous creatures eventually pooling together into a mammoth wad of rotting adipose tissue. As I said earlier, for Marvel in the early 1990s this is actually some pretty edgy stuff, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find the artwork here at least partially unnerving. For me, the zenith of the series has to be when Toxie gets devoured by the souvlaki monster, and he has an internal dialogue about how oddly serene it is to be sloshing around inside it as it rampages through New York, as if he was peacefully gliding to and fro in a rotting womb. Yeah, the way I put it is really unartful, but trust me, the execution in the book itself is WAY better than my crappy description.

Unfortunately, "The Toxic Wigger"
just didn't have the mass appeal
Marvel hoped for.

Unfortunately, the series is all downhill from there. The ninth issue is definitely a “jump the shark” issue, as the issue completely abandons the ongoing story arc for a one-and-done yarn in which Toxie gets abducted by aliens and, inexplicably, raps his way through the whole story. Issue 10 resumes the normal story arc, and while it is fun watching Toxie kvetch his way through half the issue while stuck in a stockade, it’s pretty obvious that the writers knew the whole series was about to get cancelled. Hence, why the 11th and final issue feels like such a rush-job, complete with a very anticlimactic end to the whole Chairman and Apocalypse Inc. storyline. Granted, it has its moments, but it’s clear the folks behind the comic were just phoning it in — as obvious by the series’ final panel, in which they get all meta on us and have disembodied naysayers scream “higher sales!” at Toxie. Get it, because the book itself wasn’t selling enough to keep Marvel happy? Man, now that shit is clever.

Still, on the whole, I’d say The Toxic Avenger is nonetheless a better than average tie-in comic, especially for Marvel in the early ‘90s (anybody remember their series based on Pirates of Dark Water, Bill & Ted and even WCW by-god ‘rasslin?) While it doesn’t perfectly mirror the attitude or spirit of the Troma films from which it’s based, the writers did a pretty good job translating the material into PG-reading, and I thought the artwork was just plain snazzy.

I wouldn’t call this a “great” series by any stretch, but it’s certainly better than it had any right to be. Granted, I haven’t checked out its spiritual successor in the Toxic Crusaders follow-up, but if that one is at least half as decent as The Toxic Avenger … well, actually, that’s pretty much what I would expect it to be, I suppose.

Regardless, this is a fun, moderately overachieving series anchored around a seemingly impossible premise. And as far as I’m concerned, it’s a way better take on the character than what we saw in The Last Temptation of Toxie. Sigh, if only it lasted long enough to give us that long-awaited crossover with Robocop we had no idea we both wanted and retroactively needed …

Kudos my hero, leaving all the best ...

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Revisiting 'The Last Halloween' TV Special from 1991!

A loooooong-forgotten early 1990s Hanna-Barbera production about CGI Martians with a hard-on for candy - starring Carla Tortelli from Cheers and Bull from Night Court, of all people.

By: Jimbo X
JimboXAmerican@gmail.com
@JimboX

By and large, I don't really care for the usual array of Halloween TV specials. Yes, I loved watching the "Treehouse of Horror" episodes of The Simpsons and the annual All Hallows Eve installment of Roseanne when I was a kid, but stuff like The Great Pumpkin and Garfield's Halloween Adventure never had that much appeal to me. Shit, even the Halloween-themed episodes of shows I normally loved - Pete and Pete, Ghostbusters, Family Matters, etc. - never really struck that much of a chord, and that's coming from a guy who absolutely, positively fucking loves all things Halloween more than any adult person ever should. In fact, I struggle to name ten Halloween TV specials I've seen over the years that weren't connected to some pre-existing television show, and of those - Here Comes The Munsters, I'm looking squarely at you, you motherfucker - were really, really unmemorable. 

So I was cruising around the YouTubes a while back and got sucked into a nostalgia vortex and somehow, someway, I stumbled upon a Halloween TV special I literally haven't thought about in 20-something years. As soon as I saw the little icon picture in the suggested videos panel, something in my amygdala just clicked. "Huh ... why does this thing seem familiar?" I thought out loud. With a couple of minutes to spare, I clicked on the video, and about three minutes in it all come roaring back to me. 

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: The Last Halloween from 1991. 

This was one of those things I had half hazy and half crystal clear recollections of. I clearly remembered the general premise of the special, and kinda sorta recalled what the aliens looked like, and I remembered one of them made the most adorable sound when it moved, but as for the plot gluing everything together, I couldn't remember doo-doo. That said, I vividly recall watching it one dark and dreary late October evening in the year of our lord 1991, covered up in blankets and being really, really bummed out because I thought the title literally meant there wouldn't be another Halloween ever again in real life. Like, if I focus, I can even recall what the pajama fabric felt like that evening. How the fuck - or why the fuck - I've stored that data in the back of my head for a quarter fucking century, I just can't explain ... especially since I'm pretty sure I fell asleep halfway through the movie. 

Of course, we here at The Internet Is In America relish any and all opportunities to revisit obscurities from days long since gone, and this being the formal Halloween season and all, why the hell shouldn't we revisit the 27-year old Hanna-Barbera special and analyze it through our older, sager adult sensibilities? 

We begin the special with a prologue, narrated by William Hanna himself (and if I'm not mistaken, this is the only live-action TV special with CGI effects Hanna-Barbera ever produced.) He tells us the Martians were happy until, one day, the whole planet ran out of "coobi," which he pronounces dangerously close to "coochie." So they sent four Martians in a rocket ship to Earth to get some more "coobi," whatever the hell that is. Oh, and the day they sent them was Halloween on Earth. And I just know one of you science nerds is going to say some shit about it taking 162 days to travel from planet to planet, or make some snide comment about NASA radar not picking up the craft as it enter the Earth's orbit, so before you do, I just want to say this: fuck you and your mother, you worthless, buzzkilling piece of shit. 

So these two dorky kids get off a school bus and talk about the local candy factory closing down and being so poor they have to wear shitty hand-me-down clothes. One of the kids' sister drops her candy bag and he makes fun of her for wearing the same Wonder Woman-like costume every year, but then he realizes it was made by their dead mom so that makes him STFU real quick. Also, their pet dog is named "Digger," so be careful saying that one five times fast.

So the girl is almost run over by a dude in this old ass car. He gets out and he looks like a white George Zimmerman (funny, because he's played by Richard Moll - i.e., fucking Bull from Night Court.) Then this Cruella DeVille looking bitch in the backseat calls the kids a bunch of yard monsters and tells them to not even think about trick or treating at her place, or goddamn else. And what do you know, she lives in a spooky mansion, on top of a hill, that's apparently a matte painting.

The Martian spaceship lands. The dog finds them. Then we cut to a black dude in a bow tie telling this dude at the candy factory that he can't meet production because the lake keeps drying up and that's what powers the whole fucking operation so it's going to be the "last Halloween" in town. Get it? Because the factory is going to close, and everybody who works there is going to lose their jobs and shit? So the kids enter the picture and grandpa tells them "your mom was the greatest wisher I ever saw" and the kids vow to make this last Halloween the best fuckin' one ever.

OK, I know I've seen that fat yellow guy with the red and blue stripes SOMEWHERE before. Help me out, readers: who does this motherfucker remind you of?

Then the aliens fall out of the spaceship. They're all CGI characters, which aren't all that terrible looking considering the primitive tech of the day. And here's our roll call:

Scoota - it's basically the baby from Eraserhead wearing a special needs helmet and burp-talking like a black dude. But the helmet is actually something called a "coob-a-meter," which helps him find all that sweet, sweet coobi.

Gleep - this multicolored Pikachu looking motherfucker with a sorta Southern accent that refers to himself as a "quasar-riding flap-dwap(!?!)" whatever the fuck that's supposed to be.

Romtu - the de facto leader, a blue guy in a giant helmet who reminds me a lot of The Great Gazoo from The Flintstones. 

Bing - a giant spring with eyeballs who makes the most adorable squeak every time it moves. I fucking love Bing and want him to live with me, and if any of you assholes ever say anything bad about him I'll fucking cut 'ya.

We return to the kids. After a brief cameo by a kid in a Fred Flintstone mask, the Martians introduce themselves to our sibling protagonists. The boy lays his plastic sword down and says he comes in peace and Rontu (who sounds just like he's saying "scrotum" whenver he mentions Scoota's name) gives them the rundown on all that "coobi" stuff and the girl says they are free to take as much broccoli from the planet as they want. Interestingly, for a super-intelligent alien race that understands English perfectly, the idea of "mothers" is a totally new concept to them, and Bing asks if he can go "probing" for a mom of his own.

Well, as it turns out, "coobi" is what we Earthlings call "candy." The kids explain how trick or treating work and the aliens start collecting free chocolate. A black woman pulls Rontu's head off and she laughs, thinking it's just an elaborate costume. Man, she is dumb as fuck. Then the nerdy boy at the bus stop from earlier comes out wearing a fairy costume and Bing thinks he is its mom. Oh, the 1990s, back when we still knew what the fuck "gender" meant.

We cut back to the old bitch from earlier. She's trying to find a cure for old age by experimenting on bugs or something. She's making some sort of contraption that's drying up the lake to power her experiments, and she asks her sidekick to go out and find the biggest bug he can get his hands on. 

"How many domiciles have we approached?" Rontu asks. The kid tells him he's worried about his dad's factory. Then he tells Rontu how wishing works and shows him how to skip rocks. Bing, unfortunately, winds up hopping all the way to the old bitch's house. Then her retard sidekick finds him, thinks he's a giant bug and puts him in a burlap sack. The boy learns the old bitch is the one stealing all the town's water. The girl falls down a chute and the retard butler apprehends her. Her brother slides in on a hook and rams a table right into the retard's pelvis. The old bitch then promises to treat the kids to "a trick they'll never forget," but they escape down a sewer drain before she can lay her nasty ass hands on 'em. Then the sidekick guy pours bug extract slime all over his head, because he's a stupid piece of shit and you shouldn't feel sorry for him for any reason. 

Then the boy tells his dad about the old bitch stealing water, and in direct defiance of made-for-TV kids' Halloween special conventions, he actually believes them. The Martians then find the candy factory and go fucking ape-shit, literally taking everything in the facility. Then the cops pull up at the factory, and the old bitch and her servant (Or is it her son? They never really make their relationship all that explicitly known) have already been arrested, entirely off-screen. So, uh, hooray for budget restraints, I guess?

Bing still thinks the little girl is his mom and he thanks her for helping them get all the candy and she gives him her tiara. Then the Martians give the boy some sort of Martian rock and the aliens say they'll come back every Halloween for more coobi. Of course, the dad shows up so the aliens have to vamoose. The kid makes an unstated wish on the alien rock and throws it into the lake. "Guess I need more practice," he lugubriously states.

BUT WAIT ONE GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKIN' MINUTE, YA'LL. The rock starts bouncing around like a ball of light, and it causes the lake to magically replenish itself and re-power the factory! All the townfolks come out to watch the miracle as it happens, as they all celebrate the notion they might still have jobs come Monday morning. Of course, since those Martians took literally their entire inventory, they'll probably go under anyway, but who knows - maybe the Martians refilled the factory with candy when they re-electrified it. Don't you just love it when the producers leave you to fill the plot holes in for 'em?

And we end the whole she-bang with a final quote from Hanna. "Whenever you begin to lose your way, stop and close your eyes. It may be hard to find, but a place where magic still exists is waiting when you let yourself believe." Uh, is that supposed to be about Jesus or something?

Holy shit, do I love me some Bing. So freakin' adorable! <3

So all in all, that was a pretty fun little trip down memory lane. It's amazing how minimalistic the whole thing is, in hindsight. There might be maybe a minute of action in the entire 21 minute movie, and the rest is characters simply exchanging dialogue - good luck doing that with today's ADD-addled young-uns.

Considering how weird some of the edits are, though, there has to be an extended director's cut out there somewhere. That, or else these guys were so poor they couldn't even film the part where the villains are brought to justice, which is a distinct possibility given the (probable) fact that 95 percent of the budget went towards animation costs. I kinda' sorta' think Hanna-Barbera expected the TV movie to pull in huge ratings and be popular enough to warrant a sequel, but to the best of my knowledge the movie aired just once and that was it. And according to the Internet hoi polloi, the thing never made it to VHS, so unless you had a recorded copy of the special in your possession, there was no way to ever re-experience this one. Thankfully, the wonderful advent of YouTube has empowered a legion of nostalgic sorts to violate all sorts of international copyright laws to bring this one back to life, and I, for one, applaud them for their brazen disregard of the intellectual property safeguards of others.

The movie was directed by Savage Steve Holland, who previously directed the John Cusack vehicle Better Off Dead and also created the animation for the Whammy on Press Your Luck. After this movie, he didn't really do shit for a decade, but then he directed a couple of Fairly Odd Parents movies, thus giving this guy quite possibly the single weirdest directorial career in the history of anything ever. It was also executive produced by David Kirschner, whose pedigree includes a fucking who's who list of Halloween-time staples, including Hocus Pocus, The Halloween Tree and ALL of the Child's Play movies to date. He also apparently produced a Monster in My Pocket animated special from 1992, which sounds like the kind of thing I should definitely get around to reviewing at some point.

As for the cast, it wasn't until I hit up the IMDB that I realized the evil old bitch was played by Rhea Perlman - i.e., that one ho from Cheers who also married Danny Devito, which is hilarious because every time I think of Danny Devito fucking anything all I can think of is that one scene from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia where he made a home movie version of Lethal Weapon 5. Oh, and the guy who played Grandpa was Eugene Roche, who is probably best known for playing "The AJAX Man" in a series of commercials nobody reading this is old enough to remember. In case you're wondering, the kids in the movie were played by Will Estes (who grew up to play some dude on the TV show Blue Bloods) and Sarah Martineck, who doesn't have a single IMDB credit after 1996, so it's probably safe to assume somebody PizzaGated her and ruined her interest in the craft of filmmaking. But, uh, don't quote me on that, please. And lastly, pulling voiceover duties for the movie are Paul Williams, Don Messick and Frank Welker. Really, you're either the kind of person who already knows who those people are or people that don't give a shit they were ever born, so I suppose there's no need to trudge up their respective careers.

I really don't have a continuum in mind for grading the quality of Halloween TV specials, so I can't give you a decent qualitative verdict on the movie. At barely 20 minutes in length, however, it's not like you're wasting that much of your life catching it on YT, so even if you hate it the upfront investment wasn't that bad. I guess it's a historically significant film for the CGI characters, but story-wise, there isn't necessarily anything here you haven't already seen a trillion and a half times before. The Last Halloween isn't good, it isn't bad, it just is ... well, what it is, I suppose. There are better Halloween-themed slivers of pop cultural ephemera out there, and there are certainly worse; but hey, at least it has that whole obscurity factor working in its favor, don't it?

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Sega’s “Spider-Man: The Video Game!”

It’s a really fun beat-em-up from 1991, featuring a star-studded line-up of villains, some inventive platforming sequences and some really odd choices for supporting cast members. 

The early 1990s were really the heyday of the side-scrolling-beat-em-up genre. What started with “Double Dragon” and “Bad Dudes” blossomed into an array of all-time arcade classics, including Capcom’s “Final Fight” and “Captain Commando,” Konami’s “The Simpsons” and “X-Men” and SNK’s “Burning Fight” and “P.O.W.: Prisoners of War” -- and that’s not even taking into consideration all of the weird-ass, one-off coin-op brawlers, like “Night Slashers,” “Ninja Baseball Bat Man” and both “Sonic Blast Man” games.

While Sega released arguably the most iconic console beat-em-up series of the 1990s, they sadly had few forays into the arcade brawler market. While most of their genre offerings were fairly forgettable (anybody remember “Arabian Fight?”) they did wind up releasing at least one really memorable beat-em-up title in 1991 -- and seeing as how it starred arguably the greatest comic book character of them all, you really have to wonder why it never gained the widespread popularity of some of its contemporaries.

Released in 1991, “Spider-Man: The Video Game” was a very well-made little side-scroller, with a ton of things going for it. Obviously, it had the Spidey license, and it is clear that the designers of the game held the property in high-esteem. It’s filled to the brim with iconic villains, there are a ton of neat little nods to the comics (Spider-Man’s webbing comes complete with a corresponding “thwikt” sound effect bubble) and it even incorporates some inspired platforming levels into the mix for good measure. Outside of the fact that the game just wasn’t as ubiquitous as its more famous genre kin, I just can’t figure out why this one isn’t universally hailed as a mini-masterpiece.

A perfectly reasonable retort when goosed by a Putty from
"Power Rangers."

Since beat-em-ups are more or less designed to be multiplayer experiences, the game allows for up to four players simultaneously. Since it would be weird (although not unheard of) to have four different Spider-Men at your disposal, the designers included three additional playable characters, and my goodness, are they ever the mixed-bag. I suppose it makes sense for the Black Cat to make an appearance, and even a good bit of sense for Hawkeye to make the roster, but you really have to wonder what the suits at Sega were smoking when they decided to throw Namor the god-damn Sub-Mariner into the fray. I’m sure he and Spidey have had their fair share of adventures together in the comics, but for the life of me, I just can’t figure out why they didn’t choose a more orthodox character, like Iceman of the Human Torch (or Firestar, if we’re aiming for the “Amazing Friends” trifecta here.) Alas, as weird as the playable character choices may be, it’s the gameplay itself that matters most, and you better believe Sega’s coin-op “Spider-Man” brings it in spades.

After you watch the character bios scroll in attract mode, the first thing you will probably notice about the game is the faithful-to-the-comics aesthetics. The backgrounds have a very pulpy, washed out texture to them, and the characters speak in text bubbles -- heck, you even get some very melodramatic cut-scene intros before each stage! Much like the iconic Genesis “Spider-Man” game from Sega (which was made even better in a criminally underappreciated Sega CD port), this is definitely a game made by people with a reverence for the source material, and their attention-to-detail is to be lauded.

Chapter One (i.e., the first level in the game) is titled “The Mystic Power Stone.” As does 90 percent of all 2D beat-em-ups ever made, it begins on a city street, which is suspiciously devoid of pedestrians … and even more suspiciously, populated solely by ninja warriors in matching robes. After being taunted by the Scorpion, you make your way to the right, beating up assorted no-goodniks, including purple and blue glad henchmen carrying stun guns who look like Putties from “Power Rangers” and coo like quails when you hit them and really, really fat dudes with mohawks who literally roll at you like boulders. After pummeling 1,500 of them into submission, you engage in fisticuffs with the Scorpion, in front of a gigantic semi-truck. After besting him in battle, the tractor trailer collapses and reveals none other than Eddie Brock in a hyperventilation chamber. This being a video game, of course he escapes from the containment unit and emerges as Venom.

It's not everyday that you see a guy with a starfish head zapping a
naked dude with electricity. Even if you live in Venice Beach.

After duking it out with him for awhile, he becomes absolutely massive (easily three times your character’s sprite size) and all of a sudden, the game switches genres from beat-em-up to vertically-scrolling platformer. With the in-game camera panning out, the title turns into the most kick-ass “Ice Climbers” rip-off ever, as you continue to battle Mega-Venom. Eventually, you find yourself boarding a gigantic green aircraft, which drops you atop a different building. At that point, the camera pans closer to the action and we once again go into full-on brawler mode. You beat up some more cooing Putties, and you encounter a new enemy -- a bunch of ethnically diverse, really tall dudes with hammerhead haircuts wearing khakis and basketball jerseys of various hues. Before long, you wind up starring down the Kingpin and his goons (in matching pimp suits, no less) standing over a fallen Venom. Mr. Fisk tells us the “Sorcerer Stone” has worn off, which cues up yet another boss fight with the Symbiote (who, this time, is flanked by an army of skinny dudes in Kingpin/Colonel Sanders outfits and grey tuxedos.)

Once Venom is bested (and you can tell, because he makes this really weird, garbled noise that sounds like a duck quacking) we head to chapter two, titled “Big Brother Kingpin.” The stage, which takes place primarily on a green and grey metal catwalk thingy, immediately throws the Green Goblin at you, who quickly flies off-screen almost as quickly as he enters it. Once you make it through the next wave of rank-and-file, non-canonical cannon fodder, the metal platform beneath your character’s feet starts moving. You get an opportunity to pick up some health (taking the form of red hearts in mustard-colored jars), and then you encounter a dude in a white lab coat, who is violently shaking. Why, who would have guessed, it’s the Lizard, and you have to fight him, too.

Are Hawkeye and Kingpin still refusing to speak to one another?

Once that bout is over, the camera pans out and things once again get all “Metroid” final-stagey on us. This time around, there is a bit more horizontal exploration, with plenty of new bad guys (including flying robot drones and guys in red lugging around shotguns) to dispose of. With your feet and fists replaced by a standard projectile attack (Spidey shoots web globs, Namor shoots electricity blasts, etc.), the game really does feel a bit like “Mega Man” during these sequences. After navigating your way past some falling ledges (it’s very reminiscent of  the platforming sequences in “Super Smash Bros. at this point), you encounter the next boss, Electro, who shoots really hard to evade energy bolts at you.

Next, you climb abord Kingping’s zeppelin, and the camera zooms back into beat-em-up-a-vision. Much like Konami’s “X-Men” arcade game, the playable characters in this game also have a finite number of “super-attacks.” Hawkeye launches arrows, the Black Cat swings a grappling hook, Spidey shots a big web blast and Namor hits people with lightning. They are quite useful for getting yourself out of jams when enemies swarm on you, but more importantly? They also look cool as fuck.

A boss battle with the Green Goblin ensues. As you’d expect, he chunks pumpkins at you and zips around on his glider, meaning you can only damage him with jump kicks. He also has this really weird glowing orange-arm wrist-flick attack, which to the best of my knowledge, I have never seen him actually do in the comics.

This brings us to chapter three, “The Lair of the Kingpin.” After crashing into a casino, you fight more fat dudes and guys who look like Mitt Romney, before facing the Scorpion yet again. He’s a lot harder this time, swinging his tail at you like a helicopter propeller and ensnaring you in his vice-like grip. Fortunately, he’s pretty predictable, and you can probably beat him just by spamming him with the jump kick. Interestingly enough, all of the playable characters have their own “swinging attack” and at least one throw -- for an arcade brawler, they really do give you a surprisingly high number of attacks to monkey around with.

Forget the pumpkin bombs ... those carbon monoxide fumes will
kill you just as fast.

And it’s platform time once again! You work your way past more red shotgun guys, drones that zap you with electric-onion-rings and Putties tossing hubcap-sized boomerang ninja stars, and then, it’s time for a boss battle against Doctor Octopus. Old Otto is hard as fuck in this game, with a tentacle attack that is all but unavoidable. Really, the only strategy that works here is getting in close and hitting him with a constant barrage of projectiles. Yeah, you may die a time or two, but it’s WAY easier than trying to dodge all of that shit. And, an aside: have you ever noticed just how many of the Spider-rogues are green? The Lizard, the Green Goblin, the Scorpion, Dock Ock, The Vulture, The Sandman … all known for their emerald duds. A subtle anti-environmentalism statement from Marvel, perchance?

Once you cross lava pits, laser traps and rising platforms trying to crush you, the camera zooms back in and you fight the Kingpin in his office (you can tell its his office because he has a gigantic portrait of himself hanging over the desk.) A platoon of multi-hued fat people (Fisk’s illegitimate children, maybe?) roll at you while the Kingpin himself charges at you, laughs, and chokes you, Homer Simpson-style. By the way, the animations in this game are just tremendous. Every character walks with a different hunch (they even appear to breathe differently) with enemies dropping their weapons in all sorts of weird ways once you knock them out (for extra LOLage, some of them even lose their hats once getting punched unconscious.)

There are a lot of things you expect out of a Spider-Man game. Namor
fighting the Lizard and monkey people in hell probably isn't one of them.

This segues into a totally, unexpectedly awesome battle against the Sandman (you are so jacked about “beating” the Kingpin that you don’t even notice the floor turning into a beach for seemingly no reason whatsoever.) He has all the attacks you’d expect (absorbing himself into the dirt and floating around the floor, turning into a giant hand and transforming his fists into anvils to beat you mercilessly), but unlike in the aforementioned Genesis classic, you don’t have to defeat him by dropkicking a fire hydrant and turning him into a mud puddle.

Another platforming sequence follows. After climbing up some metal girders (they even have these faint little support pillars, explaining how they can appear suspended in mid-air), you hop aboard a green helicopter with a fa-jillion blades and BAM! Sneak attack from the Hobgoblin!

Good old Spidey, spraying volatile chemicals on minorities before 
it was the trendy thing to do. 

As machine gun turrets fire at you from every direction, the Hobgoblin does his fruit-tossing shtick. The strategy here is the same as it was against the Green Goblin -- just jump kick the hell out of that mother, while firing periodic projectiles you just hope will connect. Afterwards, the camera zooms back in and we get our final, for real this time duel with the Kingpin. Granted, it’s not as tough as the concluding battled in the Genesis game, but he’s still tough as fuck. And once you defeat him, you are greeted by a hologram message from none other than DR. FREAKING DOOM!

The final chapter, “Doom’s Day!” takes place in Latvia … or whatever the hell Dr. Doom’s country is called. After working your way through an underground cavern (complete with lava pits and an armada of half-man, half-monkey abominations wearing teal pants) you fight the Lizard once more.

I guess now is as good a time as ever to discuss the game’s biggest flaw -- the audio. The music, while decent, seems really out of place (it’s this weird jazzy stuff that feels more at home in the stage select menu of a racing game) and it is quite repetitive. Furthermore, the audio samples are used over and over again, so if you are playing as the Black Cat, you will literally hear “you’ve hit the jackpot!” every five seconds. Since arcades were usually a cacophony of noises and bleeps anyway, I suppose that’s an issue you could’ve written off in 1991, but when you are ROM-ing this shit on your laptop? Trust me, it gets annoying fast.        

The final battle plays out exactly as you'd imagine -- with Dr. Doom
trying to find his contacts. 

You emerge from the hellish caverns and go into platform-mode. Then, you enter the rocky mountainside of Doom-land, working your way downhill while pummeling the usual baddies and avoiding water obstacles. Eventually, you zoom back in as you enter Doom’s castle, which is littered with landmines that are virtually impossible to leap over. You battle through a few more chambers, beating up more fat dudes before a mid-level return engagement with the Green Goblin -- and this time, it’s even harder than the first go-around, since there are scores of basketball-jersey goons to deal with while you are kung-fuing Norman O. Afterwards, you fight a couple of more monkey people, and since the foreground begins to look a little sandy all of a sudden, take a wild guess who you fight next? That’s right, Hydro-Man.

This leads to our first battle against Dr. Doom, who has this really annoying “Psycho Crusher” type attack that’s really hard to avoid. After you beat him, however, he explodes, as another Doom hologram appears in the background to taunt you.

We go into platform mode, as we make our way up a huge staircase while evil cow skulls puke magma and the soundtrack turns into a really bad variation on the casino level theme from “Sonic 2.” You jump over some more mines, and you fight Dr. Doom in mini-sprite mode again, this time while he commandeers a very Dr. Robotnik-like flying device. Then things go into full-sized brawling mode, as you go toe-to-toe with Dr. Doom inside his murky chambers. Avoiding his mean backhanded slap and jet-propelled clothesline tackle of death, the background eventually crumbles, revealing a lab with electric bursts going everywhere. Now he has this powerful orange-pink laser attack … and its revealed he’s just another damn Doom bot! You step aboard a moving platform, and we come to the game’s grand finale … a climactic boss fight against not one, but three different Venoms, who keep re-spawning after you kill them. Hang in there long enough, though, and eventually, the last Symbiote will go down (you are notified of this by a mean electric guitar shriek and the quacking duck death gurgle from earlier.)

And the game formally concludes with all four playable characters watching Castle Doom implode from a safe distance, with the ominous post-script suggesting that Victor is still out there somewhere, probably plotting some mean Hitler-caliber shit.

Clearly, there is a lot to like about this game. Yeah, the visuals may not be as good as some of its genre competitors, and the music definitely leaves a lot to be desired, but in terms of presentation and sheer gameplay, this one is just a hoot and a half to slog through, especially with an amigo or amiga or two. As has been the fate of most licensed arcade games from the era, the title never had a shot at an official re-release on the newer home consoles, and it never actually made it to the 16-bit consoles from its own timeframe. Alas, the unique blend of platforming and brawling, in tandem with the excellent license use, has made this one something of a retroactive classic, an unsung gem from the George Herbert Walker years that's definitely striking a chord with fans today -- many of whom were not even born when the game first came out!

As good as the game was, you really have to wonder what Sega would have been able to do with a follow-up. Imagine, a six-player cabinet sequel, with Nova and Speedball joining the fray ... or possibly even the Prowler, or Power Fist! Oh, my goodness -- what dreams could have come, no?

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B-Movie Review: "Prayer of the Rollerboys" (1990)

It's an early 1990s, no-budget post-apocalyptic sci-fi skatesploitation flick about white supremacist roller bladers, who can only be stopped by COREY HAIM. And believe it or not...it's freaking awesome.

The late 1980s and early 1990s were definitely the heyday of great, politically conscious, independent sci-fi movies. While films like "Hardware" and even "The Class of 1999" have since gone on to become minor cult classics, the flick "Prayer of the Rollerboys" remains an ultra-obscure offering, seemingly forgotten by time itself. And it's a pity, too, because the movie is actually pretty damn great, standing out as one of the best-written, and best-acted, no-budget, Game Boy-punk films from the era.

The film begins with a rollerblading montage, which is contrasted by the visage of Rollerboys ringleader Gary Lee on an old CRT television set. While young whippersnappers watch his video in rapt awe, he drones on and on about how their greedy parents caused the "Great Crash" by over-borrowing; just keep in mind folks, this film came out SEVENTEEN years before Lehman Brothers bite the big one. We watch a bunch of street urchins digging through dumpsters and selling old coffee makers on the street. "Forget your parents," the mysterious Gary Lee tells the impressionable youths via the magic of VCR. In a world where "alien forces" control the US and kids are routinely ushered into relocation camps, he assures us "the Day of the Rope is coming." The video pans out, and Mr. Lee is seen rocking your standard late '80s power suit. 

After that, we're introduced to Griffin, who is played by Corey Haim. He's a pizza delivery boy, who carries an AK-47 with him to drop off calzones in what is tantamount to a Southern California warzone. When he's not risking life and limb to provide others with breadsticks, he likes to hang out with Casey (played by Patricia Arquette) and his younger brother Milton at a scummy bicycle repair shop, which is owned by an old black gentleman named "Speedbag." 

From straight-to-video superstar to selling his own teeth on eBay in just ten years. Tis a pity, Haimster.

En route to his latest delivery at the local concentration camp, we see homeless folks on the street, watching television while sucking down a new wave drug called "Mist." Griff takes time out of his schedule to rescue some kids from a burning house, where an impromptu gun fight unfurls. The police show up and rough him up a bit, and the pizza chain owner is none too pleased that Griffy-boy messed the company van up so badly. 

While doing some recreational bladin' in a not-that-deserted parking lot, Griff runs (err, skates) into the Rollerboys, with Gary Lee telling him that he's now under the group's "protection." 

The next day, a brand new van shows up at Griff's workplace, which makes the company owner -- who looks JUST LIKE Carl from "Aqua Teen Hunger Force -- very ecstatic. Meanwhile, on a random newscast, we learn that Harvard has, brick-by-brick, been relocated to Hiroshima, while scores of US workers have just been deported out of Mexico. 

Then, the Rollerboys visit Speedbag's shop, and warn him about paying them their tributes. Griff then attends an official Rollerboy soiree, which involves lots of Jell-O wrestling and Nine Inch Nails. Casey tries to seduce Griff into getting her some Mist, but he then winds up getting chased down by some undercover cops, which leads to a gang infiltration discussion with the po-po chief. 

These two guys are EASILY the whitest white supremacists in history.

As it turns out, Casey is actually an undercover cop herself, who is trying to get to the bottom of the whole Mist distribution racket. Oh, and its made explicit to us that the Rollerboys are also hardcore white supremacists, although all of them have shockingly Michael Bolton-esque coifs for alleged Neo-Nazis. 

After Milton sells drugs to a wealthy Japanese businessman (I guess if the film was remade today, it would be a Han investment banker instead) a truck chase/shootout unfurls, with Griff being saved by one of the Rollerboys. Fearing for Milton's life, Griff agrees to become a mole for the police; at the Rollerboys palatial mansion hideout, we learn that Germany just bought Poland and that the Israeli Defense Force helped Ireland with their little IRA problem. 

As part of the Rollerboy initiation rites, Griff has to safely blade through a militarized zone. Of course, Griff bests another recruit, whom is then promptly shot by Gary for failing "the test." The gang then holds a huge swearing-in ceremony, where Gary goes on and on about "The Day of the Rope." 

The Rollerboys visit Griff's pizza shop, and rough up the owner. We then learn that the Rollerboys operate a mobile soup kitchen, where they hand out propaganda in the form of comic books. Apparently, they also have investments in municipal bonds and power plants, too. Griff and Gary then drive through an old naval yard, which is now the gang's secret bae for cooking up drugs. Gary tells Griff that plant security guards have excellent pension plans, and that if he sticks around long enough, he'll give him yen to attend college. 

Knowing that Griff istight  in with the Rollerboys, Speedbag makes him move his RV off his front lawn. And then, much to Griff's dismay, he finds his younger bro stoned out of his mind on Mist. Then Gary and Casey talk about the sting operation, and Casey's back-up make bets on whether or not she'll put out (she doesn't.)

Following a camp raid, Casey tells Griff about how her brother joined the gang and got killed. Then, Milton gets popped on a drug test (yes, this is a straight-edge white supremacist organization we appear to be dealing with) and Speedbag does a soliloquy on the allure of evil.

Then the Rollerboys beat the crap out of a masked victim, and what do you know, it's Speedbag himself!

...but yeah, they'seen worse. Both of them. 

So Griff and Milton decide to escape, and Griff finally lays Casey. One of the Rollerboys, named Bullwinkle, finds out that Griff is mole, but before he can waste him, Casey's back up storms in and blows him away. 

In the next scene, Gary quizzes Griff about Bullwinkle's death, and offers him a position as a kitchen cook at the naval yard. Then, it's revealed what the "Day of the Rope" actually is; a non-disclosed, yet upcoming, date in which the gang starts pumping a special variation of the drug with chemically castrating properties into the city streets. Cue a drug cooking montage (complete with five-year-olds getting their fix) as undercover cops snake their way into the compound. Gary and his cooking partner get into a duel to the death, and its revealed that Casey's back-up cops are corrupt as fuck. Of course, the real cops then show up and start pumping everybody full of lead, with Gary ultimately deciding to take Milton as a hostage. With a pistol at his side, Gary tries to make a getaway, while Griff chases after him on his roller skates -- making the film's denouement, more or less, a live action version of the final stage in "Skate or Die 2."

And so, Gary is apprehended, while Griff, Milton, Casey and Speedbag decide to hitch up their RV and move to the Pacific Northwest. Meanwhile, Gary -- whose jail cell has its own accountant -- continues to run the gang from inside the slammer, with his first business move as incarcerated CEO being the expansion of services in...you guessed it...the Pacific Northwest. And...fade to black. 

While the film ends on an obvious sequel hook, we're sadly still waiting for "Prayer of the Rollerboys 2" to come to fruition. Despite picking up a nod for best sci-fi movie at the 1990 Saturn Awards (in addition to non-stop airings at 3 in the morning on Cinemax for a good part of the 1990s), the film never really attained cult status, which is a shame, since it truly is one of the more inventive little genre pics to come out in the post-Reagan, pre-Clinton dead zone. 

The flick was directed by a guy named Rick King, who is probably best known for directing a couple of the "Kickboxer" movies. The script was ironed out by a guy named W. Peter Iliff, who in addition to having the most UFC-sounding name of any non-UFC fighter ever, is also responsible for writing a whole shit load of movies, such as "Point Break," "Patriot Games" and "Varsity Blues." 

As far as the bit players are concerned, not too many people (except for Patricia Arquette) really went on to have much a career after this. Mark Pellegrino, who played dope kitchen cook Bongo, was in "The Big Lebowski" and "National Treasure," which, yes, is a MUCH better post-"Rollerboys" filmography than Haim's. And if Gary looks oddly familiar to you, he should: the actor's name is Chris Collet, and holy hell, he played Paul in the first "Sleepaway Camp" movie!

I really can't say enough good things about this movie. It's smart, sharp, and fairly gripping, without ever becoming too full of itself or reaching beyond its straight-to-video capabilities. It has a script that's way more intelligent than it had any right to be and the acting is definitely far above average for a genre flick from the era. "Prayer of the Rollerboys" is really the best kind of B-movie, the kind that surprises you with its authenticity and competency. Regardless of its lowly genre ambitions, this is a great B-movie that comes dangerously close to being a flat out great movie in its own right. 

Three and a half stars. Jimbo definitely says check it out. 

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CD Review: My Bloody Valentine - “MBV” (2013)

After a guerrilla launch, the first My Bloody Valentine album in more than 20 years is finally here…and yeah, it’s pretty good. Mostly. 

My Bloody Valentine’s 1991 album “Loveless” is unquestionably one of the best alternative rock albums of the 1990s. Really, it’s one of the few much-adored, Spin and Rolling-Stone-beloved compact discs from the era that truly deserves all the acclaim and accolades it gets; “Slanted and Enchanted” and “Aeroplane over the Sea” can straight up blow me.

The first time I heard “Sometimes,” it was positively floored. It was such an effortless, lo-fi, humdrum display of minimalist beauty, and it was positively breathtaking. In fact, listening to that album in its entirety for the first time basically constituted an out-of-body experience for me; as soon as “Only Shallow” kicks in, it’s as if your spirit hops inside the body of a transsexual alien shopping for frozen yogurt, or you Quantum Leap inside the boots of an obsessed stalker pleasuring himself in the bushes will weeping over a particularly meaningful passage from “The Canterbury Tales.” It sounds like a peculiar reaction to have to a rock and roll album, but trust me; once you actually listen to it, you will know EXACTLY what I am talking about here.

To the uninitiated, I suppose you could mistake “My Bloody Valentine” for just another one of those needlessly celebrated, shit-rock alt-acts whose music sounds like the audio cross-pollination of a malfunctioning blender and the mating call of psychopathic baleen whales. Despite being fronted by the world’s single biggest fan of fuzz pedals (and similarly, a dude that looks like the bastard amalgamation of Chewbacca and Johnny Depp), MBV is actually one of the better much-ballyhooed bands from the largely forgettable “shoe gaze” genre, and if you haven’t given them a listen -- yeah, you probably need to.

After two decades of not releasing shit, the band decided to covertly launch their first album in 22 years literally overnight, with tons of neck bearded hipster douche bags waking up in early February and blowing their collective wads upon finding out, “hey, there’s a lot of new MBV material on the Internet this morning!” Ingeniously titled “MBV” (get it! That way, it’s a self-titled album, but not really!), the CD launched on the Intrawebs earlier this month, to pretty much universal acclaim. Ever the curious sort (and an individual that enjoys the taste of roasted, holy bovine), I decided to take the entire album for a test spin and the results? Well…yeah, I kinda’ liked what I heard, unfortunately.

Track One
“She Found Now”

The song (and hence, the album) starts off with a nice, slow, muted tempo with a solid, but understated, guitar hook in the background. As far as fuzz box noise usage goes, the song is classic My Bloody Valentine, with carefully-arranged static tracing the song throughout it’s five minute lifespan. I guess the best way to describe the track is U2 covering a Muzak version of Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt” - well, that, or the Deftones, if the Deftones, you know, sounded good.

Track Two
“Only Tomorrow” 

Definitely one of the best songs on the entire album, with a pulsating, heavy secondary riff pushing through a fuzzy-as-hell lead track. Out of all the new numbers, this is the one that sounds most at home on “Loveless” - it’s familiar, and melodic, and chaotic, and reassuring, and mildly frustrating, and uneven and totally inharmoniously beautiful all the same. At almost seven minutes in length, the track does tend to linger on for about a minute or two longer than it probably should, but considering the masterful guitar work on this one, it’s kinda’ hard to complain about much of anything here.

Track Three
“Who Sees You”

Even if you don’t think the new album is on par with their almost-impossible-to-top discography, you really have to give the band props for NOT radically altering their sound. This track doesn’t just sound like something recorded in 1990, it actually sounds like it was recorded using 1990 EQUIPMENT; you could have told me this thing was an unused B-side on “Loveless,” and I never would have known the difference. One of the weaker tracks on the album, but yeah…it’s still better than 99.723 percent of what you’ll hear on the radio these days.

Track Four
“Is This and Yes”

Probably the “artsiest” sounding-track on the album, with a minute-long pseudo-synth opening that sounds kinda’ like the soundtrack for a relatively highbrow porno looped around the menu screen for a “Shin Megami Tensei” title. As the case with most of MBV’s discography, I have no earthly clue what the lead singer is saying, or even if he (or she?) is actually uttering English language things on the track. A little too experimental for my liking, but it’s not wholly detestable, either.

Track Five
“If I Am”

A traditional shoe gaze ballad, with breathy, sigh-y vocals and a twangy, albeit low-pitched guitar-driven sound and probably some drums in the mix somewhere. Kevin Shields sounds remarkably the same as he did back in 1991 - either the dude used some Dr. Oz shit to preserve his vocal chords, or audio-dubbing equipment nowadays is flat out astonishing. A decent track, but it seems a little too staid for my liking. If you like your tracks lukewarm and Slowdive-sounding, you’ll probably dig this one.

Track Six
“New You”

You know, the Smashing Pumpkins were heavily influenced by MBV, so I guess it’s a little meta that the first thing I thought of when I heard this track was “holy shit, Billy Corgan remembered how to mix a track again!” Anyway, it’s a very relaxed track - yes, even for the band - and really one of the stronger tunes on the album. I really like the bass line, and the vocals on this one are particularly crisp and reassuring. That, and I won’t BS you - if you close your eyes and listen to the song, just TRY and not picture the front man from Wheatus pulling microphone duties.

Track Seven
“In Another Way”

Definitely the album’s signature “ass kicker,” and certainly the most energetic track on the entire CD. The guitar work here is quite good, with a nice, zesty twang that pushes throughout the entire song, with some electronic-funk-gunk-techno-synth stuff going on in the background to make things a tad more versatile. The best drum work on the entire album is probably on showcase here; a solid overall track, but by the four minute mark, you’ve heard pretty much all there is to hear.

Track Eight
“Nothing Is”

Well, if you were wondering whether or not MBV still had their analog input devices from the late 1980s in deep storage, this track answers your inquiry. Arguably the weirdest and least-MBV sounding track on the entire album, and probably the most needless. It’s not quite unredeemable filler, but it certainly seems out-of-place within the greater context of the album.

Track Nine
“Wonder 2”

The concluding track, in my humblest of opinions, is probably the worst song on the entire album. The whole ditzy, space-rock vacuum-sound stuff just doesn’t gel with Shields’ vocals, and the guitars seem a little stretched out in some parts. I think this one can be attributed to way too much pressure on the artists to end the album on something super sonic and hyper-memorable; instead, this otherwise way-better-than-average album ends on a surprisingly bland note.

All in all, I was pleasantly surprised by “MBV.” While it has nowhere near the impact of “Loveless,” it’s a solid album through and through, and there’s nothing on the album really worth hating. The CD is getting some downright absurdly high scores from the elitist music press, and while the album does deserve quite a bit of praise, I think it’s coronation as album of the year is just a wee bit pre-mature. And for those dingle berries that are ALREADY calling this thing “album of the decade?” Good sirs, I turn your attention here, here, here, and here . This stuff is undoubtedly pretty good, but the best out there right now? Nah, I’ll still take the latest from Metric, Off!, and Sleigh Bells over this, thank you very much.

So to conclude? “MBV” is a good album. Good, but probably not great, and certainly not as good as “Loveless,” by any stretch. But it’s still good, for the most part. In other words; the album is EXACTLY what you thought it would be, for better, and for worse, and thankfully the better generally outweighs the worse this time around.

The follow up album, currently on track for a February 2034 release, is already looking quite promising…

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