Somewhere, there is a television executive who doesn’t want me to sleep. I don’t know why he has made it his life’s work to torment me, but he does. Maybe we rode the bus together back in elementary school, and he had an unfortunately easy-to-rhyme name. Like “Brad”…”Sad Brad smells bad”…. yeah, I guess I’d harbor a grudge too. But, dang it, he is diabolical. There’s a lot of things that I can resist, but bad TV is not one of them. And now there’s a new network in our area that seems to play nothing but deliciously cheesy movies.
Like right now, for instance. They’re playing “The Empire of the Ants” starring Joan Collins. Radioactive ants, heros in leisure suits, how am I to resist it? Oh, lord, they’re driving into the woods on a rickety tram while being followed by an as-yet-unseen adversary. Do you think that they’ll split off and wander into harm’s way? For the record, that is never a good idea. If I ever find myself in the middle of a forest, looking at potential time shares with a group of total strangers, you can bet that; 1) hubby drugged my coffee, ’cause I don’t willingly enter nature for any reason and 2) I’m finding the gruff loner with a mysterious past and sticking to him like glue.
God, I love these movies. Oh! I bet someone kills an ant! Yes! NO! I was wrong! The ants are giant…GIANT!!! and they just ATE two of the unfortunate characters. See? I can’t go to bed NOW! First, the weakest characters need to get picked off, then Joan has to get taken down a peg or two, then that one despicable character needs to be justifiably slaughtered…. maybe just 20 more minutes…
I can’t resist these awful, awful movies, though I would like to stress that it is not my fault. I spent my formative years watching Land of the Lost and The Kroft Super Power Hour (I can still sing the Electra Woman and Dyna Girl theme song, among others) and I do believe it scarred me for life. I now have an unfortunate fondness for paper-mâché monsters and slow-moving horror film villains whose success is wholly dependent on their prey standing stock still while they clumsily lumber over, snapping plastic claws or waving their tennis ball antenae in the air. I love it, because it’s all so damn sincere. Unlike the current rash of spoofs, which I have no interest in at all, no one involved was trying to make a stinker of a film. These folks are attempting to make the best, damn, giant, radioactive ant movie that they can and I for one, applaud their efforts.
Oh! Joan Collins and crew have finally made it to a town– but all the locals are acting strangely and the major industry is a large, sugar plant…. Sigh. I am going to be so tired, tomorrow….
Damn you, Brad!
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