From the movie-making Mecca of Mogadore, Ohio, comes Humanoids from Atlantis, a self-proclaimed "Super-No-Budget, Shot-in-a-Weekend Production of The Embarrassed Suburban Tempe Company" and our master of ludicrously bad cinema, J.R. Bookwalter. It's no wonder that this self-aborting film appears on the radar of the Bad Movie Police. This isn't your typical case file, however. Instead of going out and nabbing bad filmmakers in the act, Sgt. Elke Mantooth (Ariauna Albright) and Lt. Drucilla Dread (Lilith Stabs) have to deal with a perp trying to turn himself in, citing his participation in the embarrassment that is Humanoids from the Deep. Thanks to that guy, who did indeed have a bit part in the, um, film, we're all forced to watch it in its entirety - fortunately, the film itself runs only about 45 minutes.
I don't think anyone is complaining, but there is a reason the film is so short. Supposedly, it comes down to the cold Ohio winter (which sort of put the kibosh on any underwater scenes) and a release schedule tighter than a freezing squirrel's little hinder. Three-fourths of the original story wasn't even shot, we are told. What's it about? Well, the last surviving Atlantean somehow washes up on the shore of Lake Erie, and then escapes from the "scientist" (Christine Morrison) who found him. It's not long before he is terrorizing budding young director Ken Adams (James L. Edwards) and his girlfriend Julie (Sandra Wurzer) as they attempt to film a documentary on the town's lake. The usually-hungry Tom Hoover, looking almost Chris Berman-like, pops by to play the local sheriff. The big finish is most unusual, and I still can't decide if I liked it or hated it. Most folks will just be so glad the film's over, they won't care if the ending stank or not.
When I say Humanoids from Atlantis was a low-budget movie, I mean it. The whole thing was shot over a single weekend in 1992 for a grand total of twelve hundred fifty dollars, using ground-breaking Super-VHS-C video technology. The whole thing is just bloody awful, yet it's a lot of fun to watch. The fact that the cast and crew all know how bad their work is really helps you appreciate the insanity all the more. Most people with films this bad gathering dust on their closet shelves would just leave them be. J. R. Bookwalter, however, had the brilliant idea of repackaging some of the biggest wild turkeys you've ever seen and intentionally ridiculing his own work through the vehicle of the Bad Movie Police. I have found all three of the Bad Movie Police releases to be incredibly entertaining, and I can only hope that more of their wacky case files will be forthcoming - they have to do Zombie Cop, if nothing else. (I wouldn't be averse to seeing a little more of Lilith Stabs, either.) My only regret is that I rented them all online, which means I haven't had a chance to watch all of the special features included with each of them, as the commentaries are reportedly even funnier than the movies.