Summary: Discover The Italian Zombie movie by Thomas Berdinski, in this love letter to 70s and 80s Italian exploitation you'll find humor, gore and over 2 hours of zombie goodness. Check out the movie at http://italianzombiemovie.com/. Be there or be dead. Next, it's a guest review of a famous 80s classic by none other than Root Rot himself from http://thewitchshatblog.com/.
As it often happens when I'm on Twitter, I was chatting it up with fellow horror fiends @FijiMermaid and @FreddysFingers about the existential nature of #FF (Follow Fridays) when somehow our conversation turned into talk about time travel and a certain quintessential Gremlins knock-off known as Critters. This got me thinking that how cool it would be if there was more Critters merchandise as I've never really seen any before, at least not on the level of Gremlins. Lo and behold, Fiji knocks me on my felt-stitched butt by revealing that Fangoria (issue #117 to be exact) once had an ad featuring Critters handpuppets. HANDPUPPETS!
Of course my excitement immediately skyrocketed as Fiji provide a few links to some actual proof that these things existed and I've been obsessed over them ever since. Apparently there were two figures in all; the regular version ($50) was your average run-of-the-mill "crite" that sported a thin, rubber and some fake hair on its back, while the premium version was the same rubber shell with a different paint job and some additional body hair which retailed at $90. For a kid back in the early 90's that's a hefty price tag, especially when the end result looks like one of those Land Before Time Pizza Hut promos from around the same time.
I have to say that, given the awesome looking photo of these things in the color ad (see above) I'd be more than a little pissed as a kid if I laid down my hard earned allowance on either of these things. Granted, the though of Critter handpuppets is cool no matter how you slice it, but when compared to a $20 or $30 Boglin (see previous post) that's twice their size I'll have to stick with my Boglin.
Alongside Gargoyles, Mighty Ducks: The Animated Series is one of the last cartoons of the 90s that I can remember watching that was actually worth a damn. I mean, Ducks had all of the elements necessary for a franchise of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles status: mutants, aliens, a team of equally awesome and powerful heroes, etc. Each hero even had their own archetype appearance and abilities from Duke's eyepatch and suave 007 personality to "Grin" and his behemoth strength kept in check by a peaceful nature. These guys (and gals) were made for action figures!
Having re-watched the series pilot recently (The First Face-Off), the show is still as fun to watch as it was back then. With a basic concept that involves intergalactic ducks from a planet called "Puckworld" whose passion is playing hockey, the storyline really emphasizes a lack of imagination in today's television programming. Granted, there are still a few good shows out there now, but come on: space ducks playing hockey who moonlight as super-cool vigilantes?! That's awesome!
Long before the live-action insanity of TYCO's Doctor Dreadful series of messy, sugar-packed wares hit shelves, Mattel had developed a way to tap into the male youth market of the 80s with their Mad Scientist series of toys, accessories and faux-science shenanigans.
It's fairly well known that all 8-12 year old boys are, by law, required to like gross-out humor full of fart jokes and "running," goopey snot gags. Just ask anyone from Cartoon Network and I'm sure they've got the stat sheets to prove it. Even as an adult, I must admit that I get an occasional kick from freaking out a co-worker or my 12 year old daughter with some carefully hidden whoopie cushion of conspicuously placed rubber bug.
Therein lies the genius behind the Mad Scientist's marketing gimmick. As evidenced in the commercial above, the animated mad genius was always paired against some unseen censor (I'm thinking uptight toy maker or angry parent) who deemed his experiments to be "Too Gross." Of course, reverse psychology is bound to kick in and drive kids screaming through the aisles of their local Toys R' Us to find the lastest, greatest gross-out to impress their friends.
Train hard, say your prayers and eat your vitamins.
For those you who are fellow wrestling fans, did you ever dream of growing up to be as big and strong as Hulk Hogan? I know I did.
Sure wish I had stuck with this super cool Hulkamania Workout Set, makes me think how different life might have been... then again, I never was very photogenic. Probably better off anyway, I tend to like having the ability to do simple things like scratching my back or fitting through doors. I find crashing into walls counterproductive, despite it being a signature move of many of my cartoon heroes. Just for fun, though, let's imagine what a buffer, tougher Strange Kid might look like...
With the timely arrival of Robert Rodriguez's Predators hitting theaters this Friday, I thought it might be fun to take another trip through the Toychest Time Machine for a look at some of the merchandise spawned by the original film's debut (and subsequent sequel).
You see, long before Hollywood shat out the insulting Aliens vs Predator (take your pick, they both suck), the only way fans could ever see a deep space smackdown was through the power of imagination... and action figures. Bad-ass, goo-spewing, tendril whipping action figures.
Released by Kenner in the early 90s, both Aliens and Predator had their own line of toys that were specific to its franchise PLUS a few bonus packs that included a character from both the Alien and Predator universes. From what I can recall the figures were pretty detailed and well-painted, not to mention that they featured a variety of kick-ass gimmicks such as "Spiked Tail" Predator, "Renegade" Predator and "Scorpion" Alien to name a few.
He's the miniature adventurer with the spirit of Jonny Quest, the stature of Danny DeVito and a magical red hat. Created by British toy manufacturer, Bluebird Toys, Mighty Max was the company's attempt to cash in on a young male demographic as its girl-centric Polly Pocket line of micro-doll fashion sets did several years prior with young females. Did it work? Oh yeah.
As mentioned previously, I received my very first Mighty Max miniature playset alongside a pack of Monsters in My Pocket action figures and ever since the two toy brands have really been inseparable to me. Pocket monsters aside, though, Max had a pretty good run of his own that included a toy line (of course), a kick-ass animated series and even scored a video game on both the Super Nintendo and Sega Genesis. So yeah, you could say he got around.
While the video games were ludicrously confusing and not fun at all, the toys and cartoon series were surprisingly phenomenal and well developed. In fact the toy/tv tie was so well done that I would wager that it bordered on a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles level of execution, only grittier. Truth be told some of the elements in both the Mighty Max playsets and animation were borderline PG-13 material (which to a 9 year old is a BIG plus).
My favorite of the multi-series toy line has to be Horror Heads which featured a grue gallery of (essentially) severed monsters heads complete with blood, bugs, dislodged eyeballs, zombies and yes, even a mutant/zombie clown. Quite a few of them are still available through online auctions (ie. ebay), though they are IMO way overpriced and unfortunately the cartoon has yet to see its official debut on DVD. Luckily you can still find a few decent episodes on Veoh.
Anyway, these Care Bears with claws were originally the creation of artist/cartoonist George Nicholas, who then granted the distribution rights to UK-based toymaker Hornby. Coinciding with a comic book, each bear was given their own backstory and included a special audio cassette with an adventure tale on it. There were four Were Bears in the initial release (Howler, Grizzler, Gums and Fang) each featured reversible features (head and hands) that instantly turned them from cute to downright creepy. The lined proved to be so popular that a second series was released 2 years later called Terror Teds.
The origin behind the Were Bears (as depicted in the comics) was actually pretty interesting despite an encroaching "cheese factor." Essentially, the best toy maker in all of Bavaria, Baron Egon Baconburger (see what I mean?), is working late one night when he suddenly succumbs to the family curse: lycanthropy! Taking this horrific transformation in stride, Baconburger decides to prowl the countryside and leaves behind his latest cuddly creations, a quartet of teddy bears. The bears inexplicably come to life and then also transform into... well, Were Bears.
Okay, so it admittingly doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but regardless they were popular enough to attract interest from Hollywood in their heyday and were even reseurrected (sort of) a year or so ago by another UK-based artist Steven Wheeler in a modestly animated 3D trailer for an apparent relaunch. It's actually pretty creepy compared to what's shown above, you can check it for yourselves out here.
Released in the early 90s, this commercial (almost) single-handedly sums up everything that Strange Kids Club is about; that we never truly outgrow the inner child inside of us. In fact, I'd go on record to admit that WWF Wrestling Buddies are one of the all time greatest toys ever made. Don't get me wrong, action figures are cool and all, but who wouldn't want a plush pal that was built (by Tonka of all companies) to withstand a flying elbow from the top rope and still be your best friend afterwards?
The first series (I believe WCW later had a series as well) consisted of 5 different ring jockeys: Hulk Hogan, Ultimate Warrior, Ted "Million Dollar Man" DeBiase, Macho King (not Man) Randy Savage and Jake "The Snake" Roberts. Like most other kids I can recall wanting Hogan, but ended up settling for Jake the Snake since he looked so badass with his signature serpent Damien on his shoulders. My brother ended up choosing Ulimate Warrior, a decision I admit to later being envious of, and we would actually set up our bedroom just like the one in the commercial.
Doubling as tag team partners, pillows, and whatever else our wild imaginations could create they never once showed signs of disrepair (that's Tonka for you). In fact my brother continued to hang on to his for some time well into his teenage years (before the hormones kicked in). Now they seem to be notoriously difficult to find (in particular Jake the Snake), even despite several over-priced listings on ebay. I'd love to get my hands on one again if ever given the chance, after all, you're never too old to deliver a standing pile driver to a stuffed doll, right?
Now these troublesome Trolls really take me back to a special time in my childhood. It was the very first sleepover I was ever invited to (yes, boys have sleepovers too). I was about 7 or 8 and, though the finer details of the event are lost in my mind, I will always remember three things: 1) pizza plus birthday cake is a bad idea, 2) the opening credits to Ernest Scared Stupid are second perhaps only to Night of the Demons and finally... Battle Trolls freaking rock.
Having just been released (1992), Battle Trolls were Hasbro's answer to their own line of more feminine, jeweled Troll dolls. Marketed directly at young males, the series consisted of various pop culture parodies (Superman, Count Dracula, Frankenstien, GI Joe) that came complete with weapons, scars and backstory cardbacks detailing their cranky origins (basically Fight Club for trolls).
All of my friends had one and so did I, mine being (of course) the horror-themed Count Troll-U-La (see insert) who looks like a cross between a vampiric Zorro and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. It's funny to think back on it now, but I can actually recall having play fights against the other kids at school during lunch and, on the night of the sleepover in particular, a huge battle royale amidst pizza boxes and bottles of Mountain Dew with none other than Jim Varney as our color commentator. Pure childhood nirvana.
Long before Pokémon invaded the shores of American television sets in the mid-90s there were Battle Beasts, a collective army of small monsters whose powers related to the elements of nature (wood, fire or water).
Created by the same toy company responsible for Transformers* and licensed in the U.S. by Hasbro, Battle Beasts were essentially an overblown game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Each beast had their very own heat-sensitive, holographic battle badge that revealed their elemental power. Water beats fire. Fire beats wood. Wood beats water. (How they came to the conclusion that wood beats water is beyond me, but have you ever seen an over-watered plant? It's not pretty.)
Much like Pokémon or Pogs (we'll get to those later), the proposed fun of Battle Beasts was collecting them, fighting your friends, trading and fighting again. As many of the toy properties of the late 80s there was a cartoon series, comic books, lunch boxes, tshirts, Halloween costumes, and so on. I don't recall reading the comics or seeing the cartoon, but I do remember being pretty infatuated with the toys themselves (in particular my brother and I battled with Dragoon Raccoon and Powerhouse Mouse respectively). Besides... what elementary school boy doesn't like asking a girl he likes if they want to see his fire-powered pocket monster?
*According to Wikipedia, Battle Beasts even made an appearance in a Japanese Transformers cartoon episode entitled Rebellion on Planet Beast.
If you're a monster kid who never grew out of your adolescent love of B-movie flicks and genre toys, you'll be right at home surfing the Strange Kids Club blog. With sections dedicated to trailers, video games, wrestling, and cartoons, it's got a little something for everyone who's young or young at (black) heart.
Strange Kids Club provides a visual smorgasbord of art and animation devoted to horror, the fantastic, and the mischievous kid in all of us who still insists sugar-packed cereals are a major food source and better come with a toy or else.
Strange Kids Club is an awesome repository for pop culture nostalgia. Lots of images and video links and great articles on trailers, cartoons, movies and wrestling. Lots of fun and the design of the site is fantastic.
Strange Kids Club is a safe haven for all the geeky kids who got up super early on a Saturday morning to watch really good cartoons, who could sing The Hulksters theme song, and who stayed up late that night to catch horror programming and other assorted B movie fare. If you are one for nostalgia and were a child raised in the 80's, then Strange Kids Club should be your one stop shop for reliving those childhood memories.
I have literally become obsessed with Strange Kids Club. I can't get enough of what you're dishing out and every time I visit the site, I'm reminded of everything in this world that makes it worth experiencing.
Pizza Hut promos from around the same time.
, Mighty Ducks: The Animated Series is one of the last cartoons of the 90s that I can remember watching that was actually worth a damn. I mean, Ducks had all of the elements necessary for a franchise of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles status: mutants, aliens, a team of equally awesome and powerful heroes, etc. Each hero even had their own archetype appearance and abilities from Duke's eyepatch and suave 007 personality to "Grin" and his behemoth strength kept in check by a peaceful nature. These guys (and gals) were made for action figures!
