Destroy All Monsters!

According to someone, Destroy All Monsters (Japan, 1968) is the last “great” Godzilla film produced by Toho Studios. The next film in the series, Godzilla's Revenge, began the much-lamented children-oriented Godzilla films of the 1970s. Boo. Hoo.

Recently, I purchased the DVD of Destroy All Monsters. Originally, I had watched it on WLVI-TV 56’s Creature Double Feature sometime in the early 1980s, and was curious to know what I thought of the film now.

First, the film’s title: it’s deceiving. Destroy All Monsters boasts a cast of eleven monsters, but only five or so have anything more than a cameo appearance. I call bullshit.

Second, the story takes place in the year 1999, where voyages to the moon occur on the hour, but enormous rotary phones are still in use. Huh?

But wait, it gets better: Members of the United Nations Science Committee have established a research facility on the moon. The narrator doesn’t tell us what the UNSC is studying on the moon, but he does say that the UNSC has collected all the earth’s monsters and put them on an island known as Monsterland. What a coincidence. (In the Godzilla films of 1970s, the island is known as Monster Island.) Using a series of sprays, mirrors, and invisible fencing, the UNSC keeps the monsters contained and docile on Monsterland. Thank goodness. As the narrator introduces us to the film’s true stars, i.e., grown men in cheap rubber suits, Rodan swoops into the ocean and captures a dolphin. Great. Also on Monsterland, the UNSC has established an underground research facility, from which they control and study the monsters. Your tax dollars at work, ladies and gentlemen.

"Someone is Killing the Women of Fusion!"

Yes, indeed. I must thank Dr. Joshua "The Fetus" Madden, the sometimes doctor / television executive producer / advertising executive / non-descript business honcho, for that immortal line. Apparently, a serial killer has come to Pine Valley, Pennsylvania and is, as the unibrowed fetus said, killing the women of Fusion, the cosmetics corporate giant. The first two victims were Simone Torres, the local comic foil, and Erin Lavery, the most likeable of the Laverys. Then again, even if Erin Lavery "kicked a puppy through a fan," she’d still be the most likeable of the Laverys. Yes, the Brothers Lavery, Ryan and Jonathan, are that annoying.

Where the Hell is Pine Valley?

I’ve been watching ABC’s All My Children for more than two years, and the one question I keep asking is "Where the hell in Pennsylvania is Pine Valley supposed to be?" The show often features scenes at a local, rather Hawaiian-looking beach, complete with palm trees. Yes, indeed, palm trees. Pennsylvania’s largest bodies of water are Lake Erie in the northwest, and the Delaware River in the southeast, which is hardly fodder for exotic beachfront property. If Pine Valley is in the southeast, as I believe it is, how come, while on this beach, characters never seem to realize that they’re looking at New Jersey?

A True Story!

Back in the halcyon days of November 1998, my friend Pete found out that America's Sweetheart, Emmanuel "Webster" Lewis, would be performing at the Andover Bar & Grill, a local comedy club of sorts located in, of all places, Andover, Massachusetts.

Soon afterward, Pete and I drove to the club to purchase tickets. We rode in the same car in an attempt to save gas. It worked. My car remained in the driveway, and, as a result, used no gas during the trip. I was not a member of the "Pentucket Regional High School Earth People" for nothing. (That was a real after-school club of which I was a real member.)

As Pete was driving us to the club, I began to wonder what the hell Emmanuel "Webster" Lewis would do on stage. Was stand-up comedy a new venture for him? Would he work blue? Would he even be able to climb onto the stage?

As we entered the lobby, which we did after parking the car--I don't want you to assume that we drove Pete's car into the lobby--we learned from a poster that TV's Skippy from Family Ties would also be performing that same night. What are the chances of one club booking such star power on the same night? This would be a 1980s-TV wet dream.

We bought the tickets without incident, for once, and then we waited, and waited, and waited for that Saturday to come.

That Saturday

We arrived at the club early, along with our friend Christos. Christos even brought along his camera to document our evening.

One thing I noticed, as we took our seats, was the club itself: it was bizarre. The event room looked like the basement of your average urban bingo hall. I was surprised the club owners had sprung for wallpaper (featuring shiny, metallic pineapples). I was expecting wood paneling and maybe a Pong entertainment system.

Showtime

The opening act was an actual stand-up comedian whose name to this day I forget--probably because he blew, but not because he needed the money. It wasn't like that. He blew because he was a terrible comedian. Really. Ugh.

Skippy took the stage without much fanfare, and he was actually sort of okay as a comedian. He was on stage for about an hour and a half, so he earned his money that night. Midway through his act, he had the Skippy Tonight Show: take a guess who his first and only guest was? No. Try again. No. Again. No, goddamn it! It was Emmanuel Lewis!

Emmanuel came on stage, as short as ever, and performed ten minutes of "witty banter" with the Skipster, which included what he'd been up to since the cancellation of Webster.

Answer: Not much. He mentioned being a big recording star in, surprise, Japan. (Christos claimed that the Japanese used Mr. Lewis as a good luck charm.) He also mentioned recently earning a black belt in karate. Yes, indeed. Emmanuel also told some really odd and disturbing jokes about women's breasts. The jokes were disturbing because the jokes weren't funny, and because he still looked and sounded six years old, even though he was pushing thirty. After about ten minutes, he said goodbye and bolted from the stage. That was it. Ten frigging minutes. He didn't even break dance.

Epilogue

After the show, Christos (the Greek) broke into Skippy's dressing room, and got a picture of him shirtless and one of him chasing Christos out of the dressing room. I must scan those for you, if Christos hasn't sold them for ransom.

Years later (two?), we also saw Dustin "Screech" Diamond, performing stand-up at the same club. I know what you're thinking, "WHERE IS THIS FABULOUS CLUB?" Please! You have no need to shout! Well, it was in Andover, Massachusetts, but the club has since closed and is now a comedy-less restaurant. Oh yes, before I forget--Screech was terrible, but this was before he made homemade porno.

Deck the Halls!

This past Sunday, I drove to the CambridgeSide Galleria to partake in some holiday shopping! Take that, Bill O’Reilly, you dope.

While shopping at Border’s, I was fortunate enough to witness the fine "stylings" of one smooth operator: Two young women from a Northeastern University sorority were wrapping gifts for donations to charity. Their cause was for establishing public schools in economically deprived areas of India (the two young women were of Indian descent).

As I was browsing the Ds in Literature, several feet behind the two young women, this deceivingly normal-looking young man came over to the wrapping station and began working his magic. First, his purchases were from another store, but the women quickly decided to wrap them anyway. Then he started to talk to them. He sounded like a pod person, and after comprehending why these women were wrapping gifts, he proceeded to lay on the charm: "YOU GIRLS ARE REALLY BEAUTIFUL! WHAT'S NORTHEASTERN? IS THAT A SCHOOL?" After that, it all seemed to go downhill, somehow. I had to retreat to another section of the store because I was becoming physically ill with embarrassment. He did have a goatee though. Pencil-thin. Mambo Number 5!

As I was leaving, one of the women of course asked me if I wanted anything wrapped. I was thinking, "Now, what would a pod person do?" so I pointed to my crotch and yelled, "Wrap this!"

No, not really. But that would have been funny. Actually, I just stood there as they wrapped my gifts, and only spoke when I was spoken to, which may have made me look like a pod person, too.