Rattlers

This is a wonderfully awful flick about rattle snakes. Hence the name. These aren't just ordinary rattle snakes though...No siree. These rattle snakes can strike at, bite through and pop an army jeeps tires as it flies past them going 50 miles an hour. Yep. Discarded toxic waste has made these suckers tough. (Although you wouldn't know it to look at them.) A snake guy and a female photographer are around to keep the movie moving forward to it's exciting conclusion (Which I forgot or fell sleep during)

This movie also answers the question... What do you do when the plumber tells you he is going to be changing out the pressure regulator on your pipes? Yes that's right, the correct answer is wait 2 minutes until he is under the house and then strip naked and take a bath. (What it doesn't answer is how you can magically fill the tub when the pressure regulator is in-line with your water pipes and has been removed, but lets just assume this lady has dual main water feeds.)It also answers the question do rattle snakes like to take bubble baths...and the answer is, "of course" you big silly.

If you have not had the pleasure of witnessing this movie...you must. You will cringe at the rattle snakes nearness.

When Sam Chew (*gesundheit!*) Jr is the star of your movie, you can pretty much tell you are in for a painful viewing experience. Although I must admit, Sam does steal the spotlight in Being from Another Planet a.k.a. Time Walker in the climactic scene where you really have to hand it to him (OUCH, that stings!).

This 70s romp takes place mostly in the desert and even more so in poorly lit, almost pitch black scenes - a staple grade for any B movie. There's stock footage, helicopter POV shots, and no acting required. The manic colonel played by Dan Priest provides more ham than a Subway $5 special. For the Wooden Plank award, I was going to give it to the Dan Balentine as the pilot, but this honor goes solely to Elisabeth Chauvet who provided me with plenty of migraine inducement. Still, she does provide visual enrichment and I'm sure Sam didn't mind pitching a tent with her (literally!). As for the rest of the movie, the rattlers and snakes shine as the real stars here. I clapped and applauded as vicious snakebites helped in thinning the herd. They also provided for much of the fun. Think of Rattlers as one of those nature documentary specials...except not very good.

I had the pleasure of seeing this film at the Mayo Center for the Performing Arts in Morristown, NJ presented by Cinematic Titanic. Having been a huge fan of these guys, it was a surrealfully hilarious pleasure seeing them perform live. Never before have my temples and neck muscles ached from loud out laughing as they played to packed house. The Titans are highly recommended!

Rattlers is an suspenseless creature feature that goes on for too long, even though it only lasts 82 minutes. Long story made short, something in the desert is turning rattlesnakes into killing machines. A male female research team is called in to find out what.

Although the beginning of the film has a rapid series of snake attacks, midway through it gets bogged down in conspiracy subplots and a budding romance between the two leads. When people watch a movie called "Rattlers" they want to see snake bites, not gumshoeing.

To make matters worse, the characters talk about how gruesome the victims' bodies are, but the corpses are never shown. The film might be rated PG, but keep in mind this is a 70s PG, which could be stretched for a lot of gore (e.g. Jaws). Also, there is no real final confrontation with the snakes, which is a prerequisite for this kind of film.

They have yet to make a good horror movie about poisonous snakes, but this 70's anti-classic is so bad it almost approaches goodness. It's kind of the "Plan 9 from Outer Space" of killer snake movies. They couldn't really afford too many snakes or the special effects to create venom-bloated corpses, so they substituted a bunch of nonsense about military tests making the rattlesnakes go crazy (although they never explain why the snakes all hunt in packs or how they sneak up on their incredibly stupid victims). But speaking of incredibly stupid, the heroes are a male chauvinist herpetology professor and a feminist photographer, who of course fall madly in love while hunting down the killer snakes. The sexist professor insists that his job is no place for a woman, even though, aside from the snakes, all he really does is drive around the Mojave Desert, and I don't know what the female photographer is supposed to be photographing. For some reason, these two geniuses seem to do all their hunting at night (when you're hunting rattlers I guess you don't want them to see you coming). They sleep in a tent for no other reason than to wake up surrounded by snakes. Then during the climax of the film they suddenly take off to Vegas to whoop it up while the rattlers run amok. (Your snake-fighting tax dollars at work, I guess).

The most famous scene involves a young housewife being attacked in the bathtub. However, this scene is neither scary nor sexy--laughably stupid perhaps. I actually liked the opening scene with the two little boys the best, but it was pretty much all downhill from there.

When a couple of kids vacationing with their family in the desert are discovered deceased without apparent cause, an eminent herpetologist (Chew) is recruited to assist baffled police. Assigned a freelance photographer (Chauvet) to document evidence, covert enquiries lead the pair to discover that a secret military testing site might be responsible for the apparent aggressiveness of the local rattlesnake population. Sounds more exciting than it is, unfortunately.

Talky, clichéd time-filler at best, with little in the way of suspense or action; "Rattlers" may not rattle any pacemakers for shock value, and at times tends to look more like a glorified reptile lecture, than a motion picture. Sam Chew is tepid as the tertiary scientist reluctantly seconded to the Mojave desert to provide authorities with a professional opinion on the cause of two suspicious deaths. Chew does a realistic job of looking totally ambivalent about his task, whether it's the dialogue or the method he employs that's driving that motivation is unclear. His offhand approach is flawless, and his male chauvinist streak is neatly contrasted by his tenacious and equally independent tent buddy (Chauvet) who adds some dimension to the acting.

Little attempt is made to have the rattlesnakes realistically interact with the cast, either through props or stunts, and thus, the audience is treated to limited action, totally bereft of thrills or suspense. Even the scene in which Kaye is bathing, while a rogue rattlesnake stalks her, affects no suspense or shock value, despite the elaborate set-up and staging. But the most peculiar feature of the film, is the scene in which, amid all the simmering tension, the two leads digress to Las Vega$ for a night of fun and frivolity on the roulette tables. Like an intermission, no segway or explanation - just a random sojourn to the casino capital for a brief repose, and then it's back to the hard core snake facts and the job at hand.

Earnest in its attempt, there are some dedicated performances in the supporting ranks (Gold, Jostin and a brief but 'memorable' appearance by Kaye who was once a Hollywood most-promising-newcomer in the mid sixties) but this is a snake-movie, not a political thriller, and more action was desperately needed to combat the often soporific dialogue and somnolent storyline.