I blame corporate America, that's who I blame. If it wasn't for all those fancy big wigging corporations, there would be no need to always be releasing new products for the fatted ants called Americans. On the same hand there would be no need to re-release old products again. And on the other hand (a completely different hand this time. it's not the same hand that the other two things were on. i mean that's a lot to have on one hand. i have two hands so i should be able to make this point as well) there would be no need to re-release god damn public domain movies on massive fucking box sets that I cannot resist. It's like 60 movies for five bucks. One of them is at least worth it. It's a fucking crime. It really is a crime.
This weeks cinema war crime is something that really should have been taken to the VHS Nuremberg trails and hung till it's legs stop jittering and kicking. R.O.T.O.R has recently been released on a multidisc public domain box set for the low low price of $8.99. Seems like a lot, but hear me out Van Gogh. It's a 50 movie value pack with some actual real winners. Ok that's a bold faced lie, but at least they are interesting buys as most of them are unavailable in dvd format. I bought it for the excellently bad Italian Terminator/Over the Top rip off film Hands of Steel. A real find on dvd, or any format for that matter. Other rarities include: Don Dohler's Alien Factor, John Sayles' Brother from Another Planet, Hundra, Robo Vampire, Dedadato's Raider's of Atlantis, Charles Band's The Day Time Ended, and many more...oh and forgot Trumpy is there as well, so you know that spells quality. Plenty more, but in no way noteworthy to list here..for now. But for now, more on the back alley botched abortion that is R.O.T.O.R.
From even back in the day i remember the movie poster/box art for this film. It's a nice little bit of American exploitation art work at it's finest. I'm pretty sure the Terminator fucked the Exterminator and shit out Mad Max. Whoa daddy is that shit enticing. I'm prepared to see something, and I don't want to jinx it, but just a little bit, you know, (whispering) special. We are given the usual text crawl of all these future fuck films. The crawl that tells us it's the future so there are still crazy gangs and the world is in upheaval. Fine, wordy but fine. The movie immediately throws us into the plot with a corpse and a guy..wait that's not our hero is it? Surely no..nope it's our hero. I for one cannot unify under a man in a western shirt, a nicotine aged face and a Richard Lynch mullet circa 1981. Once some scenery is digested and well regurgitated, we are given the Blade Runner treatment with narration that is just way too impressed with itself. We discuss philosophy, robotics, the proper way to pull off someone trying pull off the Clint Eastwood look. We flashback to where it all began and the most annoying robot since that fucking Beba-1 from Message from Space. And did I just hear that robotic dick say fucking Jeepers!?!
It turns out R.O.T.O.R. is a project title standing for Robotic Offensive Tactical Oedipus Robot or something. We have a board meeting where we discuss the plot of Robocop and show off the amazing endoskeleton which I'm pretty sure is a lightly modified Micronaut figure...and how exactly do you make a skeleton look dumpy? That's a feat. The very special effects come to life in a sequence I'm sure is making Ray Harryhaussen roll over in his grave. Look, I've been waiting 80 fucking years to use that reference and shit I'm going to use it warm bodies be damned! We find out that our hero's name is Coldyron...wait...COLD-IRON! Your fucking action hero's name is a like a dagger of ice stabbed into my fucking chest. Almost like very cold steel. Mostly like a cold iron ba...ah I see. I get it now. Fuck you movie! Fuck you! After a conversation with Caldaron's boss (and let me say this guy has the worst topee since Nicolas Cage in...well anything) we find out that politicians are all cocksuckers, redtape, budget crisis, what is consensual sex anyway type guys. No new news there. The project is being sped up and Ironclad only has a month to turn his Micronaut into a terrifying Asimov nightmare.
Of course that's not enough time for Pig Iron to make an Eliminator or even an American Cyborg Steel Warrior for that matter. He gets so mad that he quits, storms out and yells at Jason Statham. Problem is, none of this really matters anyway. The whole project is fucked when an guy claiming to be an Indian has a racial debate (and by that I do mean racist) and leaves his head phones on the project table. Now I've seen Bananarama drive some people ape shit before, but this is fucking ridiculous. So it really doesn't even matter the dude quit or the project was sped up. The whole thing goes flubber anyway. Really though, I tuned out long before this so I could be completely wrong. But if my memory serves me like a waitress at Deny's, the robot just wakes up and gets going. Literally it was, I'm bored so I'll check email; to hey look at the fat robot! The guy they've got decked out in the leathers was possibly a security guard at Baskin Robbins previous to this. And who the fuck puts a mustache on a robot!?! Does he have mustache powers? Cause if he does, that would be pretty fucking sweet. Mustache powers it is then, but that thing better melt faces like the ark. The fat bothers me though. Why would anyone craft the Burgernator? Why make your robot easily stopped by a tight space...and not even that tight? As it turns out, the robot was still in it's infant stage (jesus how fucking fat does he get) and only has the reptilian part of his brain. It has no emotion, no feelings, no will power when it comes to the Ryan's family style full buffet...with a large sweet tea and optional dessert bar.
It immediately starts acting like a dick after pulling over it's first car; so it pretty much acts like every cop ever. He blasts the dude and goes on a tepid pursuit of dudes girlfriend for a minor traffic violation. I guess the film makers had seen Manic Cop as well. Ironfist is back on the case! I'll just glaze over the 15 minutes of him trying to get laid with his impressive arm length steaks and murdering a man with vigilante style justice. We will never speak of it again actually. Just like that summer you stayed with your uncle and left psychologically scarred. Psychologically being code for anally that is. Old action paunch chases the scared young girl into a diner for your best chance of action in this film. I'm ready for destruction...or a sequence where the restaurant set remains intact! This is as disappointing as my college graduation. I understand at times the film makers are having a go at us with the subject matter and really just trying to have fun, but this is just turning into I Spit in Your Face. At least give me some sex, some explosions! Instead I get the wrestler character from Santa Sangre. After what seems like an eternity of chase scenes and poorly choreographed fight scenes, Blood and Iron calls in a "consultant" to take on Roblob. It's Pat steps off a plane and tells us she's the muscles of this operation and also is rocking the little seen in the wild, Skunk Mullet.
I don't know who this broad is or how he knows her and I simply don't care. I stopped paying attention long ago and that Adderall is a mighty far distance being 6 inches away. All we know is we've got a dyke body builder with no tits and she's here to crush R.O.T.O.R.'s fat gut like a pinata. The final sequence of this film is bar none the dullest end action scene to any movie with the exception of Enchanted April. We have the muscle tranny pretend to be thwarted by Robese, while...I don't know...Jeremy Irons(?) does his famous trick the primer cord one two. Without a doubt after this is all over you'll be able to say that once in your life you were able to see a man lasso a robot for the win. Probably the only robot to be drawn and quartered in a movie as well...so points there I guess. The amber like molasses pace of this movie is astounding. Rarely do things happen and when they do they are never spectacular. They honestly have the balls to quote fucking Milton in this shit. At what point did you think you were making quality entertainment. Gotta use that literature degree somewhere. And it turns out it's all for not as Coldyron get's the shotgun treatment from the government. Right to the back, gunned down like Old Yellar's less respected brother Off White. Fuck me. I'd rather go back to my dead end job and boring life. Death is preferable to this shit. The one thing I will give R.O.T.O.R is the casting. That is the only cyborg cop in film history who's fat fucking frame would perfectly blend in with any of the nations finest on patrol right now.
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