No self-respecting movie nut can pass up the opportunity to watch a cult classic with such a daft title as this (regardless of the disgusted looks he receives from his nearest and dearest), but it was with a sense of 'why do I put myself through this?' that I settled down to watch Killer Klowns from Outer Space. Certainly, if you're not the type who's prepared to expose yourself to a piece of work that has no chance of being well-made art then you won't make it to the end of this one. But, while this film is not particularly good, it does possess the high-spirited exuberance of a film that deliberately sets out to be as stupid as it possibly can.
Filled with bright primary colours, the film eschews the usual dark shadows of its genre in order to play on many people's childhood (and adult, in some cases) fear of clowns. The ones in this film – aliens who have stopped by for a snack during their travels – certainly won't cure anyone of their phobia: they have to be some of the most evil-looking clowns in cinema history, and there is something undeniably creepy about those permanent smiles fixed to their faces as they carry out all manner of dubious acts. Perhaps the most inventive of these is the clown who entrances a small crowd by casting various shadows on a wall, the last of which is a dinosaur that promptly devours its audience.
The plot – such as it is – is reminiscent of those old sci-fi b-movies in which some out-of-the-way desert town is threatened by aliens or insects made large by unhealthy doses of radiation. It's definitely at its best when allowing the events on screen to supply the sense of comedy rather than trying to use comic characters like the dopey friends in the ice cream van to create laughs. For a twenty-odd year old low-budget movie the effects are OK, and the producers have to be congratulated on making good use of limited funds.
For all the modest praise I've given Killer Klowns from Outer Space, it's not a movie I'm likely to watch again, which makes it not so much a guilty pleasure as a guilty distraction that can now be easily ignored.
Filled with bright primary colours, the film eschews the usual dark shadows of its genre in order to play on many people's childhood (and adult, in some cases) fear of clowns. The ones in this film – aliens who have stopped by for a snack during their travels – certainly won't cure anyone of their phobia: they have to be some of the most evil-looking clowns in cinema history, and there is something undeniably creepy about those permanent smiles fixed to their faces as they carry out all manner of dubious acts. Perhaps the most inventive of these is the clown who entrances a small crowd by casting various shadows on a wall, the last of which is a dinosaur that promptly devours its audience.
The plot – such as it is – is reminiscent of those old sci-fi b-movies in which some out-of-the-way desert town is threatened by aliens or insects made large by unhealthy doses of radiation. It's definitely at its best when allowing the events on screen to supply the sense of comedy rather than trying to use comic characters like the dopey friends in the ice cream van to create laughs. For a twenty-odd year old low-budget movie the effects are OK, and the producers have to be congratulated on making good use of limited funds.
For all the modest praise I've given Killer Klowns from Outer Space, it's not a movie I'm likely to watch again, which makes it not so much a guilty pleasure as a guilty distraction that can now be easily ignored.