Saved cows and calves by making halves of that famous Lambton Worm

[sovay]

Oh, my God, The Lair of the White Worm (1988) is not a good movie. I mean, nunsploitation with terrible bluescreen effects. Plot exposition plus Freudian crosswords. Peter Capaldi with a mongoose apparently stashed in his sporran. (All together now: or are you just happy to see me . . .) I imagine the anachronistic slander of the Emperor Carausius does not even rank among the problems most viewers have with this film, but what do you want from me? I read The Silver Branch (1957) in high school.

It was, nonetheless, a remarkably entertaining way to spend an evening with two friends who do not have livejournals, even if I may never get those synapses back. Next time, I insist on watching a movie with actual, you know, continuity. And better values of human sacrifice.

Comments

[sovay]

Telepathic Lesbian Priestesses Frolicking Through Space with Sentient Purple Octopi: A Bildungsroman.

Dude! The zero-g barfight in that thing is a classic.

[strange-selkie.livejournal.com]

Yeah, but as book-to-film adaptations go, the whole thing just fell flat for me. The denouement of the novel answers so many questions about what sentient purple octopi do with space radish dust and how it's going to affect the entire cosmology of everyone they meet -- it makes this sweeping postcolonial statement -- and in the film, boom, everyone's happy with some tentacle sex. It was a cheap shot.