RAIDERS OF THE LIVING DEAD
Year: 1997
Rated: PG-13 (doesn't say anywhere on the box)
Run Time: 86 minuti
Production Company: Very Strange Video
Herr Direktor: Samuel M. Sherman
Starring: Scott Schwartz, Robert Deveau, Donna Asali
T & A: No Chance- That's What ya got
I Shoulda Fucked : Ol' What's Her Name...

It's a fucking sad state of affairs these days. Pokemon and Dragon Ball Z rule the airwaves, Brittany Spears sings for big money (instead of cock), and children can safely cross the street. Back in my day, television was there for one reason: to show nudity, offensive images and Milli Vanilli snorting coke with Abba. Radio used to do nothing but swear and offend Jesus. Of course, back in my day, He-Man ruled the land, and this item of P.C.E. (Pure Cinematic Excrement) would've gotten nowhere near the goddamn store. Those were the good old days. I assume you're confused. You ask what I speak of? Wait your fucking turn, Jimmy, lest I back the fuck up and steal your medication. I'm talking about "Raiders of the Living Dead," a movie that would make your grandma cry if she wasn't too busy licking the love cream off my British Knights. To put it flat out, this film is A Certain Shade of Cock, and that is my final answer, bitch. Now this film just ate balls. There's not really much on this planet that really annoys me more than this piece of crap. Sure, there's still daytime television and old people, but you know they're gonna suck (no teeth is THE best). But "Raiders" looked so damn good. Not good like people said "Godzilla" was going to be, but like a low budget, high gore zombie film. Cheap and dirty, like your sister when she visits the projects. At any rate, the malnourished shit rodent that is "Raiders of the Living Dead" does nothing but insult. It has shitty acting, shitty special effects and barely any kills Ranky can remember. And unlike the handicapped horror films that suck ass from the get-go, this one just plain lies to you. Lies big, I tell you. At least with the latter you know it's a waste. When a comrade and I went on a search for booty and excellence in film, I came across this piece of assloaf. It looked incredible, much better than his selection of "Bad Girls from Mars." Within minutes, I handed the clerk eleven hard-earned dollars, still fresh with the blood of the March of Dimes worker I took it from. It looked great on the outside, complete with pictures of rotting zombies and laser blasts. It could've been the one, I swear. But it wasn't. From a movie that guarantees viewing of "a creature's head blown apart" and has the tagline "They hunt down zombies who feed on human meals," I expected a lot. I expected this to be a low-budget flesh-fest complete with naked chicks, lasers, brain-eating zombies and homestyle cooking with the Undertaker. But instead of the zombie movie's next big chainsaw-weilding hero, I got Clippy, the quadriplegic with a heart of gold. Sure, it's another zombie movie, but it sucks major cock and will cut you off in the no-passing zone. So prepare to feel the pain I felt when I watched the rancid piece of dirty immigrant birthmeat that is "Raiders of the Living Dead." It bears noting that this movie really doesn't start deceiving until after the opening tune. This part along granted one half of the above Star rating, for it was a rocking eighties styled tune. I mean c'mon, the line went "the deeeeeeaaaaaaaaaadddd are after me." That song alone rocks more than 'Monster Ballads,' and caused me to dance the funk so well Ice-T called me from his pimp-o-phone and asked ME to be his personal homey. What do you think of that, Bitch? That's what I thought. But it's after that when the viewer starts to feel something funny in their undies (besides their Poke-Fuck specialized anal dildo), and they realize it's shit. Not their own (yet), but shit that this movie is fucking leaking. The beginning scene bears little bearing on the rest of the film, and is such wasted potential that I was ready to get up and take a crunch right on top of Very Strange Videos. As it kept going on, I realized a couple things: there was a syringe in my cookies `n cream ice cream, and this movie is robbing me of my will to live. Yet I pressed on with an eternal vigilance, wondering if it got any better. And you know what? It didn't. It just kept on sucking fecal matter straight out of the donkey's ass, and even looked at me funny once. Now above, I mentioned that the theme song garnered one half of the rating here. The other half was generated by the Laserdisc Hamster scene. It sounds good, doesn't it? So did "Simon Sez," and now you're getting your ass stomped daily by the Band Geeks for the unearthly sin of viewing that. This scene is probably the best in this movie, and yet it still sucks. The kid tries to fix his grandfather's Laserdisc player, but accidentally creates a laser that torches his hamster. The only problem is is that the laser was made by just scratching the film, like in the old movies. It sucked, but something did die from it. There's your one star. In the end, you feel cheated, violated and gassy. If you see this at the store, ignore it. Same thing at Big Choice Video or your local film hut. There's no reason to subject yourself to this epileptic Polynesian beaver stain. You won't get a merit badge or a chance at five thousand dollars, or even your virginity back. You will, however, get a lethal case of rectal acne and a personal call from Rush Limbaugh while he's having his colonic irrigation. You may try to hide this wretched shitpuck from your friends and family, but it'll be too late. By then, the faggot jokes will have already started.

-Ranky the Dwarf