Here we are again fellow Not On My Watchers, another week another dose of drivel. I have lined up four more faecal-flecked films that made me wish movies had never existed.
If this is your first time reading Not On My Watch then I am truly sorry, but thanks for dropping by to see what all the fuss is about. The premise of the column is simple: what you are about to read are words, mostly negative, that describe four of the worst movies you will ever see – all of which happen to be streaming on Netflix or Amazon Prime right now. And if they aren’t streaming in the bit of the world you are reading this from, then you have had a very lucky escape.
I can’t make this clearer: I’m not telling you to watch these films. Quite the opposite, I watched them so you don’t have to suffer. I watched them because I used to love movies and I decided to kill the thing I loved, because nobody needs love in their lives, right? They just need movies that stink so bad, they bring tears to your eyes.
With that in mind, the following films are the equivalent of a stubbed toe, cold callers, a paper cut, the pain you get when you pull off that bit of skin next to a nail and it smarts like hell, cramp, cramp that wakes you up in the middle of the night and makes you dance around the room, gone-off milk, milk that doesn’t look or smell gone off but when you put it in your tea it actually is, losing the remote control, finding a remote control but it’s the wrong one, lists of things that are annoying that go on annoyingly too long.
Still here? You absolute masochist.
Daemonium: Soldier of the Underworld
The Premise: Wizards, gas mask-wearing mercenaries, demons, killer robots and gun-toting schoolgirls all fight for the right to something.
I’ll be the first to admit, I have no idea what’s going on here. Daemonium starts off with a schoolgirl fighting zombie demons. One of them steals her lollipop. She gets angry for obvious reasons – as it means she has nothing to suggestively suck on – so steals it back. Then there’s a massive twist (spoiler alert), because the lollipop is actually a tracking transmitter that controls a hidden minigun which proceeds to mow down all the demons in the building.
Then the movie kind of resets itself and doesn’t really mention all that schoolgirl-fighting business again, until right at the end. It’s like someone drunkenly stumbled into the editing room while the film was in post production and mixed up the rushes with another barmy B Movie for, you know, shits and giggles.
The rest of the movie aims for ‘steam punk’ but lands squarely at ‘steaming turd punk’. There are mercs in gas masks, scantily clad women, a crap wizard whose big trick is lighting a cigar – which he also sucks on suggestively to bring balance to the movie – with fire from his palm, and a dirge of demons that failed the auditions for Hellraiser.
Dialogue highlights include the zinger: “Don’t you ever shut up, wizard?” Which sounds even better when spoken in Spanish, the original language for this monstrosity of a movie.
Interesting fact, the ‘lollipop-sucking schoolgirl fighting’ lady is the dubbed Spanish voice of Lisa Simpson.
Best watched when: you’re trying to learn Spanish to impress your friendship group that consists of a wizard, a merc in a gasmask and a schoolgirl that will kick your ass if you even look at her damn lollipop.
The premise: A prissy professor gets dumped, goes on a road trip with the man that played the Mummy in The Mummy, crashes his car and ends up in the fantasy world of Gor, where everyone hates wearing clothes and is a bit fighty.
Oh, Gor. You are without a doubt the most ridiculous movie ever to feature Oliver Reed. And that includes the movie where Reed wrestled Alan Bates naked in front of a log fire.
Gor’s heart is in its right place. It’s made by Cannon Films – the now defunct notorious micro-budget production company – for a start, so yes it’s terrible but it gets a bit of kudos for being terrible. But that doesn’t detract from it being terrible. Did I mention this film is terrible?
The plot is ridiculous: a weedy physics professor called Tarl Cabot (?!) is a bad teacher having a bad day because his girlfriend dumps him. So he jumps in his crap car with his friend called Norman (who just happens to be the person who played The Mummy before Tom Cruise was in the The Mummy), they crash and end up in a magical place called Gor which is full of hunters who like to dress like sexy cavemen.
Reed plays Sarm, the king of the kinky caveman and, my god, I’ve just spent 100 words trying to explain a film that no one in their right mind should ever watch and I’m still not finished. To cut a long story short, there’s fighting, too much sweaty man buttock on screen for anyone’s liking and there’s a chance you will get drunk just by looking into Reed’s eyes. There’s also the worst training montage ever. It last about 10 seconds but by the end of it twatty Tarl is an expert with a bow, but still an amateur actor.
Best watched when: pickled in the same amount of alcohol Oliver Reed presumably drank while making this poor excuse for a fantasy film.
The Premise: Best narrated in the voice of Ian McKellen: A sex-starved ghost called Filthy McNasty (Phil, for short) grants two women their ultimate wish – to fit in with their cool friends.
Filthy McNasty is the type of film you make with your frat mates while very drunk and then wake up the next day and don’t actually remember making it. Then the next morning, head thumping, tongue cloth dry, you spot a Blu-ray with the words: ‘please watch, best moveee evaaaa’ on it. So you do, all the while wondering how they hell you managed to not only make a film while inebriated but burn it to Blu-ray as well.
You press play and it soon becomes apparent that what was hilarious when you were six tequila shots down is now horrific.
‘Why does the main character look like a rubbish ram?’ you gasp. ‘Why did we film Dan pretending to masturbate in his own poo?’ you cry.
Why? WHY? WHYYYYY?
That’s pretty much Filthy McNasty – a low-rent horror show of a film made by Chris Seaver, a director that makes Uwe Boll look like Chris Nolan. There are fans of the director Seaver’s work, apparently. We are guessing most of them are called Chris Seaver.
Best watched when: Never. Nope. Never.
I feel really sorry for the creators of Starforce. This Star Wars wannabe maybe had the potential to be a real fantasy hit in the mind of its makers but it’s hampered by a few key things: terrible dialogue, wooden acting, computer graphics made on a ZX Spectrum (probably) and no plot to really speak of, other than a lot of men in berets shouting while someone flies around in a cardboard spacecraft.
It does have one redeeming factor, though, it eventually ends.
Best watched when: you are in the vacuum of space without a spacesuit and your eyes start to bulge like Arnie’s do in Total Recall.
Marc Chacksfield is a former film journalist (and TechRadar’s global managing editor) who is already regretting agreeing to watch terrible movies for the sake of his column Not On My Watch.
By Marc Chacksfield
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