a.k.a. Gamma 683
It seemed like such a sure-fire formula: Linda Blair. Grizzly Adams. Cryogenically frozen cannibal corpses in space suits. Cheap bankrobber sex. Sweet little puffs of wheat. Oh yes, when the Chinchildren of the Damned here at NIGHT OF THE CREEPS sat down to view THE CHILLING, we all expected it to be a part of a complete breakfast: full of raw fiber, essential vitamins and minerals, and an assload of grisly zombietronic deaths. Hell, Linda Blair (whose heavyweight blackbelt mammae have graced such classics as HELL NIGHT and MY FACE ) was even in it, so we thought we might get our daily allowance of Vitamins T & A. How disappointed we were when it turned out to be nothing more than a rugged nugget of old-school shit- where the only asses turned out to be the ones who paid money to see this garbage. Oh sure, the movie had its fair share of vitamin GRIZZLY ADAMS, enough riboflavin to choke a female ocelot, and a free subscription to Nintendo Power (complete with MEGA MAN trading POGs)... but overall it was about as enjoyable as feeling Santa get a boner when you sit on his lap.
Of course, that might not be enough to turn some of you poppin' fresh shithouse goblins off from a cheap rental of this hulking caribou fuckfest: so if you're happy and you know it stomp your feet, because that shit is about to end once you've read my fucking review.
You know, I never actually saw the damn movie, but I read the Cliff's Notes the night before I handed my review in... so eat my shit. Anyway, the plot goes something like this: The King of Denmark has recently died, leaving his son...no wait, fuck. OK, here it is: Located in beautiful downtown Kansas City, the state-of-the-fart Cryogenic Research Facility is raking in the big bucks. Clients from all over the earth are just dying to have their lifeless corpses frozen in huge storage tubes so that in the future, when science discovers a cure (for what... DEATH?), they can be revived and worshipped as gods. But what do you do when the power goes out one night and all the tubes begin to thaw? Simple. You RUN! You SLIDE! You... uhhhh, hit the bump and then you fly? WRONG. Dick. Pretty sticky situation, huh? Well, that's the grim situation that security officer GRIZZLY ADAMS has to face one stormy night while on call. Drawing upon his experience as an animal husband, a lover of violent anal sex with Turkish sailors, and a hard-boiled kindergarten cop, he decides to do the right thing: hop on a forklift and take those fuckers outside in the parking lot. Imagine his surprise when lightning spawned by the Storm of the Century manages to strike EACH AND EVERY CRYOGENIC TUBE in rapid succession and resurrect the dead occupants as hideous, flesh-hungry zombies! Imagine our surprise when the zombies busted out of their tubes wearing space suits! Imagine Z MAN's surprise when he realized he was the stupid bastard responsible for picking this shit off the shelf! Meanwhile, the astro zombies (unable to contact mission control) decide that hunting humans sounds like fun(k). What results is a free-for-all worthy of Royal Rumble 1992: which incidentally saw BIG BOSS MAN get hit with a 2 x 4. Security guards, undercover news reporters, prospective clients, electrical service personnel, and Red Bone 2 all become potential entrees upon the astrozombie menu: forced to ban together to survive the deadly assault!
And survive they do... because NOBODY FUCKING DIES IN THIS UGLY WHORE! The body count is smaller than most Asian dicks...well, according to OOKLA it is... and the kills are about as thrilling as a slam dunk contest in the WNBA. The "zombies" fucking suck. The best part about them (aside from the fact that they all die in less than 90 minutes) is their pseudo-futuristic outfits-and that's not saying much considering form-fitting aluminum wrap is out of season.... unless it's wrapped around my fat pumpkinheaded cock: then it's always in style.
So although the video's cover might seem to entice and taunt from its shelf-top roost: don't be fooled for a fucking second, dog. THE CHILLING must have been brought to us by the letter "S", because it Sucked the Slippery Sperm Straight out of Sargeant Slaughter's Super Sized Shaolin Shithole. It also said "Sssssssss!" when we stomped on its trachea during halftime, but that's beside the point. THE CHILLING a legacy of pain that came so close to toppling into the icy black void of the SHIT LIST that it could smell what the Rock was cookin'. (incidentally, the Rock was cookin' Country Fried Ass, Rice Pilaf, and Fruit Cup)
But how did it escape the SHIT LIST, you axe? Well, there were a couple of scenes that kept this one alive and kicking: most of which occur in the opening "bank heist" scene where a variety of old people make funny noises as they get shotgunned. And of course, we get to see this naked chick's ass bounce of a glass shower door as her bank-robbing assmaster lays down the law. It's hard to tank a flick when it does that. It fucks with your conscience. Makes you feel...well, like you just stepped out of the salon. Though migrant workers might, SUZETTE THE SASSY FRENCH MONKEY DEFINITELY DOES NOT APPROVE!
Our Rating System
Mr. Paul: "Is this a dagger I see before me? Then stab it in my fucking back so I'll no longer have to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and this fucking movie."
Z-man: "Proof positive that the only good thing to come out of Kansas City was that whore named Bee Bop with the old wooden titty."
Eagle Te: "The holdup scene is priceless but the rest of the movie seems to trudge along without ever really going anywhere. It's like watching a 300 meter sprint or a Judo tournament featuring quadruple amputees...strangely arousing but definitely not satisfying."
El Santo: "Houston, we've got a stinker."