The Stuff (1985)

You'd be forgiven for thinking it's little more than a rip-off of The Blob (1958) based on the title and cover art, but it's not like that at all. It could be praised as a satire or commentary on the gluttony of the food industry, but mostly I enjoy it because it's Larry Cohen (he wrote, produced and directed) having fun with cheap effects and allowing Michael Moriarty of Q (1982) to once again make the sci-fi silliness not only palatable but hugely enjoyable. Not to be outdone, Paul Sorvino plays his role with real aplomb.
The willingness of consumers to ignore the niggles of common sense and accept any crap they're fed if it's dressed up in colourful packaging isn't just a haunting, fictional concept, it's happening in everyday life.

3 unhealthy McStuffies out of 5

Q: The Winged Serpent (1982)

As someone who dislikes cities, NY isn't a place I’d ever want to visit. In Larry Cohen’s NY there's a giant, flying creature from myth and legend literally picking up amateur actors and dropping body parts in its wake.
There’s also an open-minded cop; a weaselly, opportunist crook; and an Aztec death cult member getting happy with a ritual-killing knife; all of whom somehow have relevance to the randomness. It’s idiotic but it’s easy to get swept up in the nonsense, meaning it’s the good kind of idiotic. Even when there's not much happening the ominous music keeps the tension ticking.
Michael Moriarty gives his all to a B-Movie that thankfully didn't end up lost and forgotten, which is a fate that many cheap monster movies suffer.

3 crunchy, bite-sized heads out of 5

A Return to Salem's Lot (1987)

I've seen some shitty vampire films in my time but this takes the cake. It’s the story of a heartless father and his chip off the old block son, both of whom end up in the titular Maine town that's now completely overrun with vampires. Everything, I do mean everything, acting, editing, music, etc, is appalling, or possibly hilarious depending on your level of sobriety.

0½ a cow-tip out of 5

Pale Rider (1985)

A nameless preacher aids a group of gold prospectors by taking on the town bully and his cohorts. In most of Eastwood’s westerns the plot is secondary to watching him bad-ass his way through town, cleaning out the trash with a pistol while still remaining character studies and not crossing over into action movie territory. PR is like that, but it's a film of parts, some that are fantastically Kurosawa-esque and others that are plain awful and unintentionally laughable. Nevertheless, it entertains which is what I wanted. Clint is, was and always will be the quintessential movie cowboy.

3 jingly jangly spurs out of 5