Mutant Hunt

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There's good, there's bad, and then there's MUTANT HUNT.

It's one of those films that you don't really watch. You more or less just stare at the screen, slack-jawed in an amused yet fearful state of disbelief. But I should have known better. I blame no one for this but myself and my subconsciously masochistic tendencies.

Because what can you expect out of a film released straight to video, years before there was a solid straight to video market? What can you say about a film where even Charles Band has conspicuously left his name out of the credits? What can you hope to gain from a film that actually brags that it comes, "from the makers of BREEDERS and ROBOT HOLOCAUST?"

It's all my fault. Shame on me.

So, why watch it at all? Well, not to toot my own horn, but it's because of this site right here. None of us here are Roger Eberts or Pauline Kaels, especially not me. We don't get offers of exclusive premieres, press screening and all the free stuff that some of the other sites get. We'd like to, but we're kind of the new kid on the block, daring, enthusiastic, confident but still a little green. We're still trying to prove to the neighborhood kids that we can survive the long, hot summer.

Hence, everything comes out of pocket for us. Speaking for myself, that has made me a bit of a completist. No longer do I tend to dismiss films as quickly as before. Now, I not only give pretty much anything genre-related a chance, but I tend to go into it with an open mind. Chances are, even some of my brothers in arms at Horror Express will disagree with me. I know I'm not nearly as important as I'm probably making myself sound. But, the truth is, I don't have much else right now. This is one of the major creative outlets for me. So excuse me if I do strange things and babble endlessly about them on this little corner of the internet.

So, where were we? Ahh yes, MUTANT HUNT. Certainly not the worst film I've ever seen, but certainly one of those unintentionally funny pieces of garbage that strays pretty close to the bottom.

The film takes place in an urban wasteland of the near future. Cyborgs are fairly common and have various purposes. One obvious purpose is for law enforcement and strategic defense. But wouldn't you know it? Some mad scientist on a power trip decides to inject the latest batch of super-soldiers with a power drug. A narcotic that supposedly turns the cyborgs into sex-crazed killing machines.

Enter cyborg hunter, Matt Riker (Rick Gianasi - FATAL FRAMES, SGT. KABUKIMAN N.Y.P.D.), who is asked by a good scientist's sister to hunt down the cyborgs before they tear everything apart. Riker assembles a crack team to help him out. Well, maybe not a crack team, but a mechanic and a stripper will do.

Also in on the game is the allegedly seductive Domina, who wants to create a cyborg army of her own.

To pick this film apart, we may as well start with Domina and work our way back. This is certainly one of the most hilarious attempts by an actress to go for vampish behavior. Her brown permed hair stretches out in all directions. Her pleather outfits seem to either hug her too tight or too loose. And her voice, oh the voice. Domina doesn't speak so much as croak.

I truthfully don't know what she was aiming for. If she?s trying to be threatening she fails. If she's trying to be sexy, she fails, If she's trying to be the seductive villain, she comes off like a transgendered addict in need of a throat lozenge.

The cyborgs themselves are a bit of a problem. In addition to looking like a DEVO tribute band gone goth, I had a hard time figuring their motivation out. What exactly is the purpose of these things? If there are supposed to make up an army, shouldn't there be more than just a handful of them? Shouldn't they be easier to control? Why do they show mindless, robotic precision one minute and then cognitive thought the next? The only special skill I see them having are retractable limbs that stretch like Plastic-Man.

Tim Kincaid's lack of writing and directing skill also shows through. It seems like the cyborgs would be awfully easy to kill. Hence, the film is almost completely over until one of these elite cyborg hunters has the presence of mind to shoot them. Instead, we get some horribly staged action sequences. Forget any grace with the choreography. Everyone here counts their steps. DOLEMITE showed more inventiveness. At one point, one of the elite guard is held at bay by a porn star, who slaps it while she's casually reclined on a cheap motel bed.

Everyone in the film describes the cyborgs as being sexual psychopaths. But we see absolutely no sexual motivation on their part. Instead the cyborgs walk up to anonymous people on the street and simply tear them apart. As world invasions go, this one lacks ingenuity.

Kincaid has a career that goes back to the 1970s and continues to this day. MUTANT HUNT came in the middle of his career. Why then is it so inept? Basic continuity rules don't even apply here. Most film students learn during their first semester that if you show one person looking to their friend on the left, the person talking to them should not also be facing their left. MUTANT HUNT tramples over this rule and more.

It's a bit of a cliché to say that this film would be prime fodder for the crew of MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000. But the fact is, that's just the kind of film we're saddled with here. MUTANT HUNT can recommended for one reason, and one reason only - unintentional laughs.

Reviewed by Scott W. Davis