ROGER CORMAN and CHEESE, part VII: "Creature From the Haunted Sea" and Bettergoods Italian Wood-Fired Margherita Pizza

The #1 reason Roger Corman is so lauded is because of how many people he helped along the way - not just burgeoning young filmmakers but established ones as well, helping to distribute Fellini and Kurosawa movies to U.S. audiences. He used his powers for good, and he obtained those powers from making his own movies - which weren't always good. 

Creature From the Haunted Sea is a 1961 Action Horror Comedy directed by Roger himself (though it's incredibly skimpy on those three elements). It's a Spy Movie and a Monster Movie, but technically it's a sendup of all the genres it attempts: when the budget's this low and the quality's this bad, maybe some cheap laughs will distract you. And there are a few genuinely funny lines, but a lotta the buffoonery falls flat to the point that you're not laughing with it or at it. The movie starts with a very promising animated sequence as an expository device, but the exposition carries over into the feature as our lead character (played by Robert Towne - yes, that Robert Towne) narrates the picture in a mockingly hardboiled way. The premise is a group of gangsters are trying to help some Cuban politicians flee their country with a treasure chest of gold, and then their boat sinks along the shore of an island of horny women, and there's sometimes a sea creature. Typically in dreck as humdrum and derivative as this we can usually bank on ample gore and T&A, but mostly this movie leans into its hijinks and commits to the "spoof". The monster is good for a brief laugh as it's basically a soggy bathmat with Freddy Krueger gloves and googly eyes, but the novelty of cheap costumes wore off, like, a thousand B-movies ago. It's a meandering 75 minutes which probably flies by faster at the drive-in than in your living room. 

 Do not be fooled by this hoity toity pizza brand - it is, in fact, Walmart brand in a fancy wrapper. Though this is their faux-gourmet, "trend-forward" brand, meaning they throw this label on their almond milk and Greek yogurt and shit like that. But if there's one thing we really kinda hate it's sophisticated pizza, regardless of whether it's Walmart or some bourgeois brick oven joint - so it's really hard to tell if it's the fanciness or the fact that it's still just store brand frozen pizza that's making it yucky. It definitely gives a homemade vibe in presentation and in flavor - were the sauce not so sour you'd barely notice there was even a pizza there. But still, we were at least successful in finding another match. 

The Movie: D+

The Pizza: D+

NAME THAT MOVIE!

We had a bit of a Dueling Banjos scenario with the last set - even before Leticia dominated this dojo, we had a good game going on our Facebook page where Tighe crossed the finish line before all y'all. We used to be sticklers about where to put your answers and how it wasn't official unless they were here. We also used to be a proper country; apparently Hot Pockets don't even have a cardboard sleeve anymore. Think about the future! 

EASY

FAIR

DIFFICULT

TOYS ARE US : Dick Tracy Clip-On Magnets

Magnets were such a huge deal to me as a kid - they were like stickers but better. Way better. I don't know if that's a generational thing but I'm not aware of them being as much of a novelty now as they were in the 1980s - because it wasn't just me and the consumers who were paying attention, but the manufacturers especially; it wasn't uncommon for your fridge decor to be a collection of intricate little works of art. 

It also was not uncommon (actually it was damn-near guaranteed) that the magnets that you or grandma or anybody had on their fridge were some sorta depiction of foods & beverages: generic fruits and vegetables, name brand candy & soda, various homemade meals, if it's something you kept in or near the refrigerator then you needed a brightly-colored magnetized sculpture indicating as much. And if you've spent any amount of time on this site you know how important artistic representations of foodstuffs are to me -- heck, fridge magnets may even be the cause of my infatuation. But believe me, I'm not overstating their relevance in the pantheon of pop culture - go look up "80s fridge magnets" on eBay to get an idea as to why sentimental suckers like me are always broke as fuck. 

There are so many old magnets burned into my mind, not just because they became part of the architecture of my childhood home, but because I loved and appreciated them long before any kinda nostalgia was attached. They were like toys, but they were my kinda toys - the kind that I could just admire with my eyes, without the expectations of some hollow interactive experience; I didn't need to play with them to enjoy their beauty. And then, along comes the Dick Tracy movie and suddenly everything becomes a toy - including magnets. 

Batman's merchandising the year before seemed subtle and demure by Dick Tracy's standards (and I've been over that with you, probably more than once), and amongst its catalog of colorful crap that I just had to buy were Dick Tracy Clip-On Magnets from Playmates.

More accurately they were bought for me, as evidenced here by what I'm assuming is my 8th birthday - which would've made the movie 8 months old at that point (but still fresh on Home Video). Either way, for better or worse, when a big movie came out, it didn't just change the culture, it created its own culture, and you could choose to immerse yourself in it or simply frequent it in a more casual way. Circa February of 1991 Dick Tracy had to share real estate in my head with Ninja Turtles, Edward Scissorhands, and Super Mario 3, but for as long as it resided there, one could still find the paraphernalia all around. It actually wasn't until it was on video that I learned to really love this movie as an entity separate from its marketing and products, so I was more than happy to add items to my already immense booty of Tracy treasure. 

Apparently there were seven from which to choose and I ended up with three - miraculously, it was the three I would've chosen had I gone to the store and personally chosen them (ongoing apologies to Seymour Cassel). While I've never sought out the remaining four, these ones I got for my birthday back in '91 stayed with me, traveled with me, gracing many fridge doors, taking on soda sprays and wily dairy products, and falling off and hitting various linoleums probably hundreds of times. They feel as fragile as peanut brittle but these are some truly tough gangsters - even the glue holding on the magnetic discs on the back has held strong. My amazement for their ongoing durability has outweighed my sentimental connection to them for years now - I'm just tryna see how much more they can take. At this point we're probably like E.T. and the geraniums - when they finally go, so will I.

- Paul

STATIC SHOTS

I SAW IT ON TAPE - Spaceballs

Welcome to the first entry in a new series where we (predictably) discuss stuff we watched on videotape. Some were rented from the store, some were borrowed from a friend, some were taped off of TV. Some are hidden treasures, some are mainstream classics, some we're not sure if they were real or just a dream. It's a fairly easy concept to grasp so I'll stop explaining it start talking about Spaceballs, The Movie! I'll take any opportunity to tell the story of how once, when I was like 4, I stood alone in the corner of a darkened dining room and recited Young Frankenstein (from memory) in its entirety: dialogue, sound effects, probably even music cues, I mimicked the entire movie as a one-man monologue as my parents secretly listened along from the next room. It was most likely because of this that they intentionally introduced me to Blazing Saddles, History of the World, and the one I easily 'fell' for the most, High Anxiety. So it's fair to say I was a proper Mel fan by the time my parents rented Spaceballs shortly after its Home Video release in February of 1988. I didn't understand the notion of 'writer/director' at that age so it's not likely my expectations were put anywhere; nor did I really understand the concept of parody, I probably just accepted it as the silly Science Fiction movie that it is without any direct relation to STAR WARS - like I guess all outer space movies must have a gold robot and a talking dog and a big black helmet. But therein lies what I consider to be a sorta kinda flaw in this movie: regardless of how much I actually did adore STAR WARS at the time, without the ability to recognize the satire, I lost about 50% of the punchlines. Having said that, as I got a bit older and actually understood the spoofs, those punchlines still felt weak ("oh, I get it, Yogurt").

Being 5 years old I think I got caught up a bit in the story and the special effects, but I wasn't laughing the way I would with his previous movies -- and one could suggest that maybe the humor was too grownup or over my head, but if you've seen the movie you know that's unlikely if not impossible. Heck I've seen the movie as a grownup, I wasn't missing much; there are a couple funny lines/deliveries, and I genuinely like the scene where Rick Moranis and George Wyner actually watch Spaceballs on video ("What the hell am I lookin' at?!").

I've seen the movie enough to pull out quotes around others who know it and that always gives a warm sense of camaraderie but I don't think I'd ever just sit and watch it again on my own volition. Though I will say, for all its winks and nudges and not-so-subtle lampooning, the Alien sendup is a particularly strong moment, probably due largely to John Hurt's good sportsmanship in not only agreeing to the gag but giving it just as much gusto as he did the first time around. But here's the thing - I actually hadn't seen Alien before I saw this, nor was I even aware of the scene it was spoofing. So, because it was executed with meticulous accuracy (minus the "Hello my baby" bit) I was completely blindsided by this horrific ordeal. Adding insult to injury, both of my parents had fallen asleep on the couch by this point in the movie, so I was left all alone with this shit which, for all intents and purposes, is beat-for-beat the Alien chestburster scene! And I'm 5 years old in a goddamn dark living room basically all by myself! To be fair my parents were big sleepers - they loved to sleep, and we had a strict rule of courtesy that if someone was sleeping you were to be as quiet as possible. But the Xenomorph/Looney Tunes crossover brought me to DEFCON 1 and I mustered the courage to politely nudge my mom and say "It got scary, can I turn it off?" I took her unformed mumble as an affirmative and I pressed 'stop'.

My cousin eventually got big into this movie and he'd play it all the time, and for years I'd excuse myself from the room during the Alien part. However, his copy of the movie was taped from VCR to VCR, and his tape ran out before the end of the film. So I can't say exactly how old I was when I actually saw the end of Spaceballs, but whenever I see those final scenes now it feels like some weird deleted sequence where everything that's happening now is happening now. 

- Paul

VALENTINE'S SNACKS!

Keeping with my attempt to make this February a little brighter than it's been in I-don't-know-how-long, I decided to go on a tasty trek of treats (say it out loud, it's fun). For a holiday that's firmly rooted in chocolate, Valentine's Day consistently offers some of the lamest novelty foods out of the whole year; sure they can make things strawberry-flavored and raspberry-flavored and heart-shaped, but they're not doing it hard enough, nor on a big enough scale. And it's such a pretty holiday too - I mean they all are, but living in a temperate zone during wintertime really makes those reds and pinks stand out, so mostly I just wanna see more of that. But instead I had to go a-roving for these snacks, and then further had to separate the treasure from the trash. Or so I'd hoped. 

- Paul

Lindt Raspberry Cheesecake Truffles

Lindt doesn't hop on a lotta holidays, but they're already kinda tailor-made to V-Day with their foil wrappers and creamy centers. And on that front, it certainly checks every box of eroticism - especially the implied flavor. I've had Lindt chocolates on these kindsa lists before and I haven't found a stark difference between any of them as yet - but honestly I don't think I've ever had actual cheesecake (I know, weird right?) so I'm not exactly equipped to compare. These are exceptionally heavy though so they'll probably last me 'till Halloween.

Haribo Berry Hearts

I've been on a wicked gummy kick lately - my body must be craving "modified corn starch" or something. I wasn't totally psyched that these were the "sugar-frosted" kinda gummies but that doesn't really get in the way too badly. There are three flavors: Strawberry, Wildberry (which just means even their tasters couldn't figure it the fuck out), and Blueberry(!). Not "Blue Raspberry" or "Malibu Punch" or some other sneaky side entrance to avoid the true blue flavor I'm always looking for: goddamn Blueberry. Do these taste like blueberries? No. Whatever, they still tried. 

Dunkin' Chocolates

Lemme just say, right off the bat, how proud I am of Dunkin' to not fold under the tremendous weight of the dumbass coffee culture they themselves helped to build, and instead took the route of the antiquated "donut". This is the company that literally dropped "Donuts" from their name, so rejoice in the absurdity! The three flavors are Boston Kreme, Red Velvet, and Brownie Batter, which are a perfectly appropriate boxed-chocolate variety, so they didn't exactly reinvent the wheel here. I don't know about tasting anything like donuts, but as chocolates they're ok. 

Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate Lava Cake Hearts

Candy ain't nothin' 'less it tastes like other sweets: donuts, cake, ice cream, candy corn, candy canes - these all somehow became flavors of things they are not. "Lava Cake" will always be exciting to me because that just means it's gonna have a gooey chocolate center, and boy howdy they sure do. But they're frustratingly small so it's a very conservative portion of goo - best to pound like four of them at once. 

Little Debbie Valentine Cakes

Look, I don't know what to tell you, I'm not a fan of Little Debbie's seasonal cakes. Actually I find most of her output to be dry and tasteless and her quality can't even get close to the likes of Drake's and Hostess. (Sorry, Deb, that vacant smile will only get you so far.) Mostly I was hoping these would at least be pretty to look at, but no, these grey blobs look how they taste. Whatever, my kid loves 'em (but his favorite foods are Club Crackers and skim milk so who're you gonna believe?). 

Froot Loops Sweethearts 

Valentine's Day cereal?! Oh you are big time!! Honestly there might be something like this every year and I'm just noticing now -- and how could I not? A big teal box of Froot Loops is enough to get anyone's attention (or maybe that's just me and I'm projecting), but then upon closer inspection I realize we're observing a holiday here (and a mostly marginalized one at that) with the "Spread Love Edition" (which sounds playfully dirty and comically sterile at the same time). And like anytime a brand changes a shape or color or package, it comes with a disclaimer similar to the one on this box: "Classic Froot Loops Flavor". Typically I'd make fun of such a square warning, but there was no chance in hell I would've bought these if I thought they tasted like the Sweethearts candy. It's like going to the movies in the 21st Century: "I want exactly what I'm used to but in a different box." Sold American! 

TRADING CARDS :: Valentines from the 80s and 90s

To those who know me well (which may perhaps be some of you dear readers) know that, for me, February is a cursed month. Some are aware of it just enough to play it off as a running joke, but for those truly in the know, its folklore is understood as the dark magic that it clearly is. And most years all of this misfortune funnels right into the middle - February 14, Valentine's Day, which also happens to be my birthday, so it does very much feel like a personal attack that's somehow written in the stars. I began to dread this month until I finally arrived at a numb acceptance; now, year after year, I am but merely an empty vessel, hibernating, living inside myself, waiting for the warm weather. Please leave a message. 

And that brings us to now. Present day. I am awake and lucid and ready to embrace the other reality that, once upon a time, I absolutely adored February; I had no reason not to, I got a week off from school, probably played in some snow, and I was guaranteed a bounty of birthday presents. It was like Christmas II for a while there which, believe me, is no kinda frivolous analogy; the gap between Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny is a disorienting free fall through a cold, dark abyss, so a holiday rooted in chocolate and love and warm hues should feel entirely medicinal. Unless you're cursed. But we're ignoring that for a minute, because 1. I could use a break from the existential horrors, and 2. we have business to discuss. And that business is the exchange of colorful cardboard valentines. 

Handing out little bits of ephemera to your grade school classmates is apparently still a practice in more enlightened parts of the globe. And if I remember correctly, the best part wasn't handing them out, or even receiving them, but deciding exactly which brand of valentine best represented you; "That's right, when people see Tommy Pickles, I want them to think of me." (Of course there was always a 100% chance someone else felt the same way. But I guess that's how you find a soulmate). I amassed maybe hundreds of these during my school years - little pop culture portraits telling me how "rad" I was - as my mother saved just about every piece of paper I brought home from school, "just in case". Then, once I'd reached the age of consuming pointless nostalgia, I'd found that she had thrown them out. Believe me when I say I held no grudges, it was totally understandable that she was unable to see the value in a buncha first-grader scribblings alongside pictures of Papa Smurf and Rainbow Brite. But as you read this, I know that you goddamn know the value in such treasures. Thankfully for everyone I've been working lo these many years to try and set the universe straight by getting some of these valentines back - in mint condition, no less! 

Yes yes, between flea markets and internet auctions I've managed to obtain sealed boxes of unassigned valentines, never touched by human hands. Until today. That's right, kids, I've opened some boxes and pulled my favorites from each set to share with you because we are gonna attempt to celebrate the Valentine's Season like we used to - like it was meant to be. Hope you love me as much as I love you.

- Paul

THE CALIFORNIA RAISINS -- Cleo, 1988

Sometimes The Raisins had pink eyelids, but when they had teal eyelids, the cosmos was in harmony; that exact shade of blue alongside that exact shade of maroon was so important to me as a child. I couldn't explain it then, and it would feel like some kinda betrayal if I were to try and explain it now so let's just enjoy the pretty colors (which is what this holiday is mostly about). I will say that my grownup mind is interpreting every element of this card as an invitation to a threesome (which is also what this holiday is about). 

THE SIMPSONS -- Cleo, 1994

Even as late as 1994 they were still using this crude artwork that was everywhere ca. the shows's second season in 1990 (Bart with a blue shirt, etc.). But this card is just a plain travesty -- never in the show's early history do I recall Martin Prince having feelings for Lisa. Even if you have peripheral Simpsons knowledge then you'd be aware of the missed opportunity to include Ralph Wiggum here as a direct reference to the "I Love Lisa" episode that premiered in February of '93. Guys, we were so close here.

TOY STORY -- Hallmark

I don't know exactly what year these are from; there's no numerical indication that it's one of the sequels but the cards are entirely focused on Buzz and the green aliens. In any case I'm not a huge fan of this artwork; the whole point of this exercise is to not be a curmudgeon but this rigid depiction is ignoring the soft inviting curves that these movies are built upon. Though once again the 17-year-old me can't help but read this as a sexual overture. 

WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT -- Cleo, 1989

Why yes, I could've absolutely blessed this list with an amazing image of Jessica Rabbit - there were actually several from which to choose. But no, I've instead gone with Benny the Cab - one, because he's sort of an unsung hero in this giant cast of characters, and two because I wanna shine a light on the dreaded "teacher valentine"; regardless if they were a good teacher or a particularly crummy teacher I always felt shy expressing these kindsa feelings for some adult I barely knew. And thirdly, it struck me how weird this image would've been to some teacher who hadn't seen the movie. 

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES -- Grand Award, 1990

This was the toughest to choose. There were plenty depicting April, Splinter, and the four Turtles, there was a particularly sweet one with Rocksteady and Bebop, and one head-scratcher featuring a lone portrait of Leatherhead (who you'll recall is a villainous Cajun alligator). But even more bizarre than that is this awkward exchange between Michelangelo and The Rat King - a sewer-dwelling cross between Darkman and The Toxic Avenger who acts as a sort of pied piper of (what else?) rats. Very rarely a friend to the Turtles (and clearly a lot less hygienic) his inclusion on a symbol of camaraderie and/or romance is best summed up by its clumsy message: "Whoa! Happy Valentine's Day!"