One woman's quest to share the beauty and learn valuable lessons in horror films, from the truly terrifying to the totally terrible (and of course, everything in between involving killer dolls)
I will never try to convince anyone that Maximum Overdrive is a good movie, but I will also never waver in my undying, unreasonable, and eternal adoration for all that it is.
You could torture me. You could reason with me. You could tie me to a hard chair and invite Stephen King himself to stand there lecturing me as to why it's a terrible film, all the while poking me with a hot cattle prod. Heck, you could have Stephen King force feed me raw onions while he uses a creepy ventriloquist dummy to explain why Maximum Overdrive is not in any way good, and you know what? I will not give in.
I love it.
The idea that someone else decided to adapt King's story or remake this movie was, quite obviously, extremely exciting for me to learn, despite the fact that all who had seen it testified that it was not worth my time. I was prepared to walk away and remove it from my radar because really, if I need to see pinball machines electrocuting Gus Fring, I could quite easily put in my well-worn Maximum Overdrive DVD any day of the week (or every day of the week). When it popped up as a free stream on Amazon Prime, I found myself gravitating back towards this by all accounts waste of time. When I saw this tagline:
I knew there was no escaping it. I had to watch Trucks. No ventriloquist dummy could convince me otherwise.
Quick Plot: At a dusty rest stop far away from civilization, a few scattered and unhappy white people begin to notice that trucks are developing a violent mind of their own, possibly due to a fuzzily explained nearby toxic waste accident. Tragically, there is no mention of comets or lasers.
Our scruffy survivors include Demon Knight's Brenda Bakke as an independent trail guide, a widowed mechanic dad and his teenage son, a divorced white collar dad and his terribly awful teenage daughter, an aging hippie, elderly clerk, and a few jerks in trucker hats who I think are supposed to be villainous but honestly, I never cared enough to know for sure.
Made in Canada on a TV movie budget, Trucks is certainly a passable horror movie filled with a few genuinely fun and wacky sequences. The acting is more than acceptable, and the special effects budget clearly included generous donations from someone who just really liked to blow things up. Heck, in many ways, this is probably a much "better" movie than Maximum Overdrive.
But I have no desire to ever see it again.
Ever play an unbranded board game modeled on a far more famous one? The dollar store's version of Monopoly (perhaps named "Moneypoley" or "Real Estate Game"), for example? It's structured the same as Parker Brothers' pride and joy, but there's just something missing. Maybe the paper money is printed on thinner stock or the dice have stickers in place of carved dots. It's fine, and if you gave it to a child raised in a Skinner box who had never fought with his brother over who got to be the thimble, that child would enjoy it with no complaint. But it's just not real.
Even with maximum explosions.
That's kind of how I felt about Trucks. Its credits announce it as being based on Stephen King's short story (which I haven't read), and it never pretends to be a remake of 1987's AC/DC scored cocaine-fueled classic. This is a somewhat seriously told tale of trucks gone bad. Yes, it is very hard to tell such a tale seriously, even in the hands of Visiting Hours screenwriter Brian Taggert.
There are touches of fun, to be sure. A scene wherein a motorized toy pickup truck terrorizes a mailman is rather adorable. There's also a very neat sequence where a HAZMAT suit is inflated by a cleanup crew car, only to animate in such a way where it essentially becomes an invisible man axe murderer. These are good things.
But U-Turn, U-Die good? Not nearly.
Trucks just isn't that much fun. The humans aren't colorful enough to sustain our attention and the actual trucks lack any defining feature to give a memorable face to the evil. By late ‘90s direct-to-video (or Canadian television?) standards, it’s fine.
Just not soda-can-to-the-groin fine.
High Points
Look, I really DID enjoy the aforementioned kills for their surprise...
Low Points
Even if the inconsistency of what machinery acts evil and what doesn't remains an issue for a purist like me
Lessons Learned
Kids of the '90s firmly believe turquoise and silver should be worn separately or banned
When you're stressed, it's good to meditate
You can't be a redneck if you're from Detroit
Rent/Bury/Buy
Trucks is streaming on Amazon Prime and probably lurking somewhere in its entirety on youtube. It’s not the worst way to kill 90 minutes, particularly if you have any affection for tiny mechanical Tonkas braining a U.S. postal employee. It won’t inspire a LEGO set, but you know honeybun, what can?
As Hurricane Sandy sings her way through New York, I bid you all a safe and spooky All Hallow's Eve's Eve with a nudge towards another blog tearing up the season in gargantuan style. You all know and love T.L. Bugg, he the keeper and swatter of The Lightning Bug's Lair. This October, he's been posting up a storm (or tropical cyclone, however the weather people now choose to classify it) with daily posts on gigantic monsters.
Though such a focus seems to violate my belief that smaller things are scary (see February's annual Attack of the Shorties), I fully endorse the Bugg's seasonal posts, in part because he let me share a few of my own virtually gifted picks. Head on yonderfor mack trucks, white worms, underrated sequels, and face punch-ins (because giants are generally really good at it).
Plus, you get the Bugg's take on one of monster cinema's proudest moments, THEM!
What more do you want? The power back on? Puh-leaze.
Unless you need it to read our posts. Then I guess you're entitled to that dream.
Amongst the many, many many, many reasons I love my parents is this:
Maximum Overdrive came out in 1986, when the Mets were Mookie Wilsoning their way to the World Series Championship and I was a happy 4 year old...who saw Maximum Overdrive in the theater.
Stephen King was famously on more coke than a Christmas loving polar bear when he wrote, directed, and provided his best cameo yet in what can pretty safely be described as a truckwreck of a film. With a ridiculous premise made even more ridiculous by the deux ex machina explanation of planetary orbit, Maximum Overdrive boasts some of the gooeyist melted American cheese to emerge from the ‘80s. It’s a gooey cheeseburger of a movie served with the greasiest fries you’ve ever eaten, and by golly sugar buns, I love every minute of it.
Quick Plot: You know the story. On a bright summer day in North Carolina, all the world’s machinary pulls a small-scale SKYNET and becomes hostile. Hairdryers strangle. Electric knives stab. Arcade games electrocute and even the sweet little ice cream truck drives with menace. A varied band of plucky survivors (led by the rebellious Emilio Estevez in his Brat Pack prime) hides out in the Dixie Boy Truck Stop as they formulate a plan to make it alive in a world free of batteries and gasoline.
Obviously, it’s a silly plot, and one that was probably irresistible to the man responsible for killer washing machines, sociopathic classic cars, and evil religion-spreading corn. Stephen King is a vital piece in the history of modern horror, but when undisciplined, his work can be embarrassing. Maximum Overdrive was his first (and sadly, thus far only) directoral effort, and just about any word out of his mouth in the last 20+ years has been sprinkled with his own admission that it’s terrible.
It’s a charming humility, but let’s face it: Maximum Overdrive is also an absolute blast. A few reasons why:
9:48...79 degrees...Fuck...You
Can you think of a better way to open a film than with a neon sign cursing you out? I suppose following said intro with Stephen King being dubbed an asshole by an ATM machine comes pretty close.
CHONK CHONK CHONK CHONK!
Every villain needs his theme song, and Maximum Overdrive cranks it up right with a ridiculously over the top and aggressive sound cue that can only be described as Jaws eating popcorn on speed and helium. The fact that King randomly assigns this music to particular attacks (the aforementioned electric knife, the no-name dude’s payback for stealing a ring from the dead) somehow makes it all the more entertaining as it only occasionally reminds us just how goofy a thing we’re watching.
Who Made Who? WE MADE YOU!
Speaking of soundtrack, let’s give a fingerless gloved round of applause to AC/DC, the one and only band responsible for Maximum Overdrive’s peppy pseudo badass beats. Their songs firmly ground the film in the fertile ground of the ‘80s, especially when its official anthem--Who Made Who?--is spoken, a la Britney Spears in Crossroads, by one of the film’s most beloved characters, Wanda the truck stop waitress who’s so dedicated to her profession that she keeps her blue eyeshadow fresh and pink hairbow high a full day after the world’s machines have tried to kill her (they eventually do).
Death. By. Soda. Can. DEATHBYSODACAN!
Easily one of my favorites in the extremely long list of best death scenes ever, the soda can machine killing is a glory to behold. Watch ! as the happy go lucky baseball coach saunters over to treat his winning team to a few Pepsis, only to be goofily puckered in the groin by a powerful surge of cans. Hear ! his teenagers giggle, because who doesn’t giggle when the only adult in eyeshot just got his groin hit by a soda can? See ! the machine wage a full-blown war on every player in sight, shooting its ammo as they flee like soldiers on the Western Front, most pegged down with one hit to their backside. At that point, the sight of a steamroller rolling its way over a 14 year old boy is just whipped cream on an already very delicious root beer float.
Often a sign of a director-in-training, an overabundance of slow motion generally comes off as ineffective but hilarious. Maximum Overdrive is no different. The opening drawbridge-gone-psycho scene uses it wonderfully, as an ill-fated biker slides off into the water, complete with his own Tarzan-like cry of peril. You’d think that would be enough, but King seems to find the tool quite versatile, later employing it to build totally unneeded excitement at the conclusion of the even more ill-fated baseball team’s winning slide into home.
Death By Watermelon
It happens, and it happens within the film’s first five minutes. Sheesh Death Bed: The Bed That Eats, it took one scene for you to officially be dethroned.
Happy Toyz, Where Art Thou?
Certainly not in business, because what kid in his right mind would be charmed by any company whose mascot was a grinning gargoyle-like clown? The star truck of Maximum Overdrive is indeed a gleeful villain, so long as we look past the whole idea of, you know, a terrifyingly kid-unfriendly kid company even existing. Then again. Ronald McDonald has been pied pipering his way through the entire planet’s children for almost 50 years, so maybe I underestimate youth.
Random Product Placement
A sparking Miller Lite sign. Evil BIC pens truck. Adorable AC/DC themed Volkswagon bus. Heck, I almost want this film remade just to see how Apple Computers worms its worm-in-an-apple way into getting a positive spin in a film about evil technology.
When In Doubt, Shoot A Bunch of Dudes
Maximum Overdrive CERTAINLY has its flaws, among them, the fact that it’s pretty gosh darn hard to keep track of its characters. Sure, our eyes are always on the heroic(ally hunky) Billy, his quick-to-bed hitchhiker lady pal Brett, the villainous Pat Hingle, Lisa Simpson & her new husband, the kid, and black guy, but there are anywhere between two and seven other background survivors who seem to be hanging out in the truck stop that never come close to registering as being important. They’re all male, country-looking, and bland, so it’s only fitting that at about 2/3rds through the film, the cute little machine-gun driven vehicle kills them all with one swoop of its bullet fire.
(don't even bother learning the names of the white dudes in the rear)
Someone Got a Different Memo
Holter Graham’s Deke has a little more to care about than the rest of the Dixie Boy’s patrons. Within 24 hours, the kid has seen his baseball coach brutally die and learned that his father’s guts are still fresh on the pavement. I suppose that explains how much more seriously he seems to take his role in Maximum Overdrive, with an intense grimace on his young face all the way to his slaughter of a frisky Drive-Thru burger sign. When he passes his rifle to Brett, Graham’s delivery of “I don’t want this anymore” has more weight than an elephant telling a whale that it had an abortion. Or something.
It's just realllllllllllllly serious. And therefore hilarious.
Eat My Shorts
....gets said in this movie, cementing its status as Great Cinema of our time.
Why Mourn When You Can Eat Bacon?
We’re not really expected to take any of the deaths too seriously in Maximum Overdrive, so perhaps it’s only fitting that the characters don’t either. After Deke’s caring father gets run over, Billy and Brett are quick to flirt their way under the covers, while Wanda’s widowed husband doesn’t seem to have too much trouble moving on and joking his way through pumping gas. When your film is just over 100 minutes, you really shouldn’t waste any time with the mushy stuff, right?
The Comet. Oh Yeah, the Comet
When most of us think back to Maximum Overdrive, the things that gleefully ride into our minds are listed above. But remember, dear readers, just WHY the toy cars and lawnmowers and gas pumps and pinball machines are trying to bring about the end of the human race:
“On June 19th, 1987, at 9:47 A.M. EST, the Earth passed into the extraordinarily diffuse tail of Rhea-M, a rogue comet. According to astronomical calculations, the planet would remain in the tail of the comet for the next eight days, five hours, twenty-nine minutes, and twenty-three seconds.”
So, as the selectively loose Brett mentions later in the film, an evil comet is telling technology to turn on its makers. Makes perfect sense, no?
Let’s examine the closing coda text, of which I’ll declare, is easily the greatest closing coda since the adorably unspellchecked two-typo boasting conclusion of Burial Ground: Nights of Terror.
“Two days after, a large UFO was destroyed in space by a Russian 'weather satellite,' which happened to be equipped with a laser cannon and class IV nuclear missiles.
Approximately six days later, the earth passed beyond the tail of Rhea-M, exactly as predicted.”
Okay. So, the comet was just a red herring in a film that CLEARLY was dying for some external plot twists that have no effect whatsoever on the action we’re watching. And in the end, the Russians save the day with laser canons. And Stephen King is EMBARRASSED by this?
The Winning Line
“Curtis!........... Are you dead?”
I cannot tell you how many times these words were quoted in the Intravia household when I was growing up. The fact that Yeardley Smith would later go on to cement her voice in cultural history as the one and only Lisa Simpson makes this all the more grand.
Lessons Learned
Even Stephen King can’t resist a fat man farting joke
Mack Trucks are especially annoyed by screechy waitresses accusing them of insolence
Morse Code: Learn It. Love it. Live It.
Rent/Marry/Buy/Worship
I will not say that Maximum Overdrive is a good film, but trust me sugar buns, it’s a joy. The film is sadly unavailable from Netflix and currently has nothing more than a bare bones DVD release, but if you can find it at a decent price, it still makes for a glorious daily backdrop to your life. I’m praying to the fairy godparents of Blu Ray that one day, we can all live in a world where Stephen King sits down with a six pack of O’Douls and gives us a long-awaited commentary track, where Emilio Estevez returns for a making-of documentary, and those mythical 12 seconds of gruesome cutting room floor footage resurface, all packaged in a tacky tin case with a glow-in-the-dark Happy Toyz Goblin poking out of your movie library.
Yes, this movie exists and yes, it’s fabulous. A young couple moves into a furnished Brooklyn apartment and find a vintage refrigerator-freezer welcoming them with a plate of cheese. Too good to be true? Naturally, as the titular appliance turns out to be a portal to hell (ironic, cause you know...refrigerators are cold). The fridge doesn’t do much in the way of menace, other than hiding your keys and occasionally closing back and forth on human bodies, but the film itself is quite a hoot. Plus, for extra bonus points, there’s a homicidal blender, house fan, and garbage can (that naturally kills by...closing back and forth on human limbs).\n\n
Death Bed: The Bed That Eats
How, you might ask yourself, could one possibly make a monster out of that giant rectangle you snuggle atop every evening? Apparently, with very little talent and money. Make no mistake: Death Bed is a terrible, terrible film that barely can be called one. Characters never actually speak to each other, instead taking turns narrating their emotions. No relationships make any sense. And the bed, ahhhhh the bed. It eats. Should you dare lie down for a nap, expect to be sucked inside so that director George Barry can show off the film’s sole special effect: gooey yellow plasma dissolving whatever floats. It doesn't quite end there, as we learn that while Death Beds don't dream of electric sheep, they do fantasize about spinning newspaper reels that highlight their killing sprees on the cover. It's kind of adorable.
Though it’s the eerie mannequins and evil mannequin maker responsible for most of the terror in this underrated 1979 classic, Tourist Trap does open with some very angry living room furniture, including a Beauty and the Beast-esque armoire armed with an arsenal of weaponry. Beware self-closing windows, flying dishes, and of course, the occasional knife with the mind of its own.
The Mangler
Cynics would say The Mangler was most likely inspired by Stephen King’s need for a new swimming pool. We can imagine America’s most successful horror novelist gazing around the house, hungry for some inspiration and thinking “well, nobody’s ever done a killer washing machine before.” I’ll give him and director Mick Garris a little more credit for eventually ending up with The Mangler, mostly because for all the film’s failings, it does find some innovation in using not just your average Maytag. Set in an industrial laundromat that thirsts for the blood of virgins, The Mangler epitomizes the cheap messiness of '90s horror, for better and worse. And hey: a killer ice machine costars. Anyone else smell a spinoff?
Maximum Overdrive
In 1986, a comet hits the world, mechanical objects of all shapes and sizes go postal, and Stephen King does a whole lot of cocaine. The results of all three are oddly fabulous, as everything from arcade games to a drawbridge take their pent-up rage against all things human (and in the case of a toy car, canine). Sure, the main attraction and biggest baddies is the well-trained army of mack trucks that round up a ragtag band of survivors at a gas station, but we should never forget that for all its bad movieness, Maximum Overdrive does boast a few unique kills. Who knew playing arcade games could be so dangerous?
Final Destination
Technically, it's more of an Invisible Man version of the Grim Reaper that does most of the slaughtering in this modern franchise, but considering the fact that every installment featured an inanimate killer, I couldn't not include it on this list. Examine:
Part 1: Killer water spill, Ginsu knives, violent computer
Part 2: Naughty sink holds jerk hostage in a complicated series of events leading to his eventual death via fire escape. The stovetop serves as an accomplice.
Part 3: Frisky tanning beds
Part 4: Clumsy lawnmower, cheeky chair
Poltergeist
It was not my intention to include any form of satanic or demon possessed doll on this list, as that warrants an entire encyclopedia of films that can't even be touched here. So ignore, for a moment, the laughing clown-faced elephant in the room and instead consider the many tangible and typically household objects turned angry meanies: a swimming pool, bucket o' chicken, kitchen chair, braces (Part 2) and mirrors (Part 3). This house can't be clean if you're afraid to touch the vacuum!
I expect--and really, kind of hope--I’ve missed an entire pantry worth of violent appliance films. Share yours below...right after you shut down the power and dispose of all batteries.
Calling all karate dogs, ghost cats, and baseball playing chimpanzees! A full month of joyously terrible animal-themed movies, complete with endless fart jokes and puns!
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