ROGER CORMAN and CHEESE, part IV: "Carnosaur" and Rao's Brick Oven Pepperoni Pizza

Even after being involved in hundreds of movies, Roger's name really became synonymous with only a handful of prominent standouts. We can't say if that was intentional (with him it probably was) but for better or worse they were always the flicks that flaunted his vibe in the loudest way. And on paper, Carnosaur is one of those flicks.

It was a race against time: could they finish the movie in time to create a release date with Jurassic Park? Actually Carnosaur came out a whole month before it, but it doesn't matter - it lived its best life on home video (though I'm not sure why). 75% of this movie is dark postmodern laboratories with no furniture or science stuff - just Diane Ladd in a rolling desk chair, watching the movie unfold on security cameras with her mouth hanging open. The other, slightly better 25% is dedicated to the more colorful yokels of the town that's being terrorized by the escaped Carnosaur(s?), but most of their scenes are at night so it's even darker, which creates a sort of ongoing spatial disorientation that may or may not have been on purpose to hide the inadequacies of the monster. Otherwise-talented makeup effects and creature design wizard John Carl Buechler made a pretty good looking dinosaur, but the puppetry is consistency laughable and the forced perspective is always changing depth so you can never tell how big it is. Clint Howard has about three minutes of screen time but it's cumulatively the best three minutes in the show. 

Gene Siskel infamously gave it a Thumbs Up: "Terrific! I liked this movie" was the quote they put on the cover. So, for this supposedly prestigious New Horizon Pictures epic, we got a supposedly prestigious pizza; jars of Rao's Sauce cost literally twice as much as the other name brands so expectations were high. The sauce wasn't especially noticeable as being great or different in any way but the "brick oven" crust was Not of This Earth (whomp whomp). Frozen pizza crust usually has to be largely ignored to enjoy the experience, but the Rao's is like a big airy cracker that just about gives "thin crust" a good name. When all is said and done, the sloppy (though admittedly gory) movie didn't match the fancy 'za. 

The Movie: C-

The Pizza: B+