Seafood Slaughter

Island Claws

Thank movie goodness the nearby nuclear power plant leaked 46,000 gallons of radioactive water into the sea. If it weren’t for that, we never would’ve had a plausible explanation for that house-sized sea crab going all King Kong on an unnamed island that has citizens, a nuclear power plant, dirt toads, a bar (state capital), drunk fishermen (see “bar”), and a biological lab experimenting on crabs to get them to grow bigger to help solve the world’s food shortage. (But what if you’re allergic to seafood? Best to fall back on fish-shaped candy bars.)

Island Claws

While things are going along swimmingly at the Crab Lab, hundreds of shelled pinchers are walking sideways out of the sea and into the surrounding jungle. Most are the size of Red Lobster’sCrispy Lobster and Waffles platter. (Only 1080 calories, in case you’re wondering.)

Island Claws

The crabs make daring day-time attack overtures, one on a bicycling, pretty young reporter researching a human interest story on the lab and their work. She ends up in the arms of the sun-bleached lab assistant, who wears shorts to work, but long pants to the seaside. Stylish, and yet oddly unpretentious.

Island Claws

The town bar’s banjo/piano player, who lives in a modified school bus, gets a bad case of the crabs, and, while using his banjo to beat on the hundreds of ‘em crawling into his humble abode, ends up setting his place on fire. An unseen giant something (probably a radioactive clam) turns over the bus. Burnt, pinched and smooshed. I hear there’s a job opening at The Half Shell drinketeria.

Island Claws

While this is going on, a boatload of Haitian refugees make shore and head for the woods — yet another place you can catch crabs. More crustacean attacks on people and property. Thinking it’s the Haitians committing that crimes, the whole town gets their angry-villager on to hunt and shoot them with bullet-powered guns.

Island Claws

The climax of the cheesy Island Claws (1980) takes place when the giant crab — roaring like a reverse sea lion — smashes houses (but thankfully only the window of the bar) and starts nut-crackering people in half. Moody, the bar’s owner, and the short shorts wearing lab dude crawl on top of the beast, and make stabbing happen. Didn’t catch the alpha crab’s name, so you’ll just have to call him “Alphy.”

Island Claws

So how come only one crab grew to the size of a Red Lobster restaurant and not all those hundreds of others that would look better on a menu than in your house? I’ll let you know after I boil a crab in radioactive water and submerse it in a spent fuel pool of nuclear-melted butter. I’m thinkin’ answers and yum.

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