The Witch Doctor vs. The Giant Crocodile

There’s a problem with Bang Mud Canal (oh dear God…too…many…jokes…head…about to…explode) in Thailand’s Chumporn District. A gigantic alligator or, “crocodile” is eating everyone who dares sticks an expendable limb into the water. Even the local police can’t stop its canoe-capsizing behavior.

Using modern techniques to subvert the beast, a local witch doctor is called in. He lasts about two minutes on his Shaman inner tube. Hmmm, let’s try that again with another witch doctor, only make this one have more incense and dynamite.

The monster reptile seems to like witch doctors as they go down smooth. Time for the military to step in. Trapping Croc-y against a quickly-constructed dam. (I didn’t see any building permits, so I bet that thing is really shaky.) A cop jumps in the water with a grenade. Finally, someone with balls. Until the grenade goes off, that is.

The Brutal River (aka, Khoht phetchakhaat/2005) is extremely low-budget horror, although an exploding crocodile makes a way more chunky mess than I originally theorized.

Monster Town

What Silent Hill (2006) – a movie adapted from the popular 1999 Japanese horror video game franchise – lacks in cohesive storytelling, at times makes up for it with undie squeezing atmosphere (great use of smoke/fog, or “smog”) and some of the more disturbing and icky creatures/monsters since Hellraiser’s (1987) Cenobites, from which it clearly draws inspiration. (Note: The movie utilizes this and thats from the first four Silent Hill games, might explain the pieced-together feel.)

A ridiculously attractive mom has a young daughter who sleepwalks around waterfall cliffs, even though the kid has been repeatedly told not to go out after dark. (Like that works with kids.) Turns out the little scamp is dying from an unknown cause and a faith healer (my medical insurance only covers Shamans) tells mom for answers to take her daughter to the spooky Silent Hill, a small abandoned town no longer on any map, Google™ or otherwise.

The town of Silent Hill – renowned for witchcraft gone wild – is pretty dang eerie. First, its shrouded in smoke from an underground coal mine that’s been burning out of control for decades. (Probably why everyone left. That, and there’s no 7-Eleven™. Reason enough to pack it up.) Secondly, there’s an apocalyptic horn that goes off every so often, releasing some seriously messed up creatures that come out of nowhere to eat faces clean off whatever head it’s attached to.

Like the video game it’s fashioned after, the monster encounters get progressively hardcore, turning up as walking torsos, twisted body guys, mutant nurses and the impressive level boss Pyramid Head and his 12-foot knife that can cut through walls to get its point across.

Teaming up with a previously encountered female cop, Rose, frantically searches for her kid who wandered off and is seen in glimpses running through a maze of building floors and is heading down into the depths of what sure as hell looks like Hell. And it’s here the story, steeped in evilness, gets muddled.

There’s a ghost religious leader, ghost townsfolk from years gone by, a witch-sacrificing bonfire (no marshmallows, though), and a darker than black demon thing. To tie this altogether would take a LOT of word wrangling as the movie piles the back story on said bonfire during the last 10 minutes. So much so, you can barely keep track, even with a 12-foot knife being pointed at your uncooked (for now) self.

Yeah, Silent Hill plays out in linear fashion like its parent video game. But the creature things — which needed WAY more screen time — are downright delightful.

P.S. The sequel Silent Hill: Revelation (2012) brought back the first one’s better freak creatures, but suffered from a sub-standard plot and a disturbing lack of fun. Sounds like my life.

7 Mummies Makes One Weak

A half-dozen criminal convicts being transported across the Mexican desert manage to escape, taking the supermodel prison guard with them as hostage material.

Roasting under the blistering sun, they have nothing to drink except “land water” (dirt), no food, and no ChapStick™. Finding a gold medallion in the land dirt, the desert Holy Man (or “sand shaman”) tells them of more gold (specifically the ancient treasure of Tumacacori) than 10 men couldn’t spend in 10 lifetimes. I’ll take that challenge.

All they have to do is keep walking until they get to a small old time-y western town. It’s there they’ll find their destinies. And hookers. (Destiny…hookers — same thing.) Besides looking out of time and place, there’s something not right with the dusty town.

The criminals walk into the saloon, which looks straight out of the 1800s, and are offered free beer, food, and destiny hookers. Two things: Where is this town exactly so I can put in a change of address, and secondly, is there a local laundromat?

Once the sun goes down, all of the supermodels and townsfolk turn into flesh-eating ghouls. They still look the same, but attack their guests as if free platters of Arby’s™ 5 for $5 roast beef sandwiches. A few manage to escape, but don’t leave town as they came for the gold.

This business model is further complicated by the seven mummified Jesuit priests that leap to life to protect the gold. That they know how to do martial arts means that was either part of their religious training, or the movie sucks.

So what have we/I learned about 7 Mummies (2005)? That gold is heavy, 400 year-old Jesuit priests can kick your ass, old time-y hookers have implants, a motorcycle can barely outrun a horse, and rap music sucks. But you/me already knew that.