Sunday, September 6, 2020

Play MST3K For Me

 


 

Created by Wisconsin-born prop comic Joel Hodgson, Mystery Science Theater 3000 (for brevity, MST3K) ran for twelve seasons over thirty years. The first episodes (considered Season 0) aired in 1988 on KTMA, a local station serving the Minneapolis-St. Paul area. The Comedy Channel, soon renamed Comedy Central, hosted the show until 1996. The Sci-Fi Network gave the Little Show That Did a home for the rest of the decade. With the new century beckoning, the literal most futuristic show on TV no longer had a home.

And wouldn't until 2017, when a massively successful Kickstarter campaign allowed Hodgson to create new episodes for Netflix. The 217th episode aired on November 22, 2018. A year later, cast members confirmed the show's cancellation. After thirty years, three hosts, and two riffin' bots voiced by a grand total of six different men, the experiment was well and truly over.

I wasn't surprised; MST3K in any incarnation is destined to be, at best, a cult hit. Two mad scientists holding a janitor hostage on a satellite above the Earth, and foisting upon him the worst movies ever, films so reprehensible to the craft that he creates robots companions to join him in commenting on the onscreen action. (Or, as it's more commonly known, "riffing.") This is one of the medium's most unique premises. That it found one home, nevertheless four, is a minor miracle on par with Haribo confectionaries.

The show escaped my attention until early 1993, late in Season 4, when channel-flipping brought me to the sight of three silhouettes back-talking a stirringly amateurish…movie? Mistake? A Texas-based insurance salesman winning a bet? Yep, my initiation into the Mystery Science universe was "Manos" The Hands Of Fate. My fifteen-year-old brain was entranced by the mixture of smart and smart-ass contained not only in the riffs, but in the brief intermissions, better known as "host segments." Silly, satirical, totally in command.

From then on until the show's first farewell, I tuned in every week, although sometimes not for very long. Two hours is a lot to ask of a person, especially a younger person with homework and homicide on their mind. If the riffing didn't smack my chops by the first commercial break, I'd no qualms over trying my luck elsewhere on the dial. How many full first-run episodes I wound up watching in full is impossible to say, thanks to the capriciousness of memory, but between 60-70 is a good enough guess. And that's over six years. Watching all 196 episodes of Seasons 1-12 took twenty-seven years. Now there's a club for you.

With the lists to follow, I am less interested in settling classic fan debates, and more into offering my own takes. Whether these takes strike you as convincing or confusing is your own dilemma. (It's just opinions; relax.)

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Untamed Youth, Ep. 112--Season 1's episodes tend to be slow on riffs and low on laughs. Getting through every ep is an endurance test many viewers will fail. Untamed Youth is the highlight, a showcase for Eddie Cochran's singing and Mamie Van Doren's buoyancy. Black-and-white teen flicks are gold in this format, and proof a film didn't need "mystery" or "science" to make for a fitting subject.

The Brute Man, Ep. 702--Starring Hagerstown's own Rondo Hatton, and prefaced with the endlessly entertaining short The Chicken Of Tomorrow, this should be an all-timer. Not so, thanks to a short-run time and a story that is both exploitative and enervating.

The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed Up Zombies
, Ep. 812--Didn't I almost have it all. A horror-musical fever dream whose writer/director/star looked like bootleg Nick Cage and directed like bootleg Enzo Castellari. He cast his wife as a dancer, and her tall, broad stature prompts a cannonade of transgender riffs. These riffs do offend me, but not for the reason you may think. I am no great fan of belittling trans people, but when an ostensible comedy show insists on being resolutely unfunny for a protracted period of time, I can't just let that slide.

Starcrash, Ep. 1106--A pre-Star Wars flick, this paid Italian vacation for Christopher Plummer also features such luminaries as Caroline "Dub Me" Munro, "Marjoe" Gortner, "Gross As Hell Like I'm" Joe Spinell and "David Hassel"hoff. Much of what I love about the Netflix era is here--relentless and clever riffing clearly delighting in its own existence--and some of what I do not love, also known as, those in-theater songs aren't as cute as they thought.

THE 5 WORST MST3K EPISODES

5. The Robot vs. The Aztec Mummy, Ep. 102--Rough patches ahoy, dead air suffused with the smell of liver and onions. Josh Weinstein's failings as red, rotund robot Tom Servo (AKA "J. Edgar Hover") are obvious--monotone delivery made more for radio, fondness for turning the opening credits into the same tuneless song--but his comrades in castigating celluloid (Joel Hodgson as hapless test subject Joel Robinson and Trace Beaulieu as the cranky and clever Crow T. Robot) are still figuring out the field as well, though, so who knows where Josh would've taken Servo with more time.

4. Escape 2000, Ep. 705--The second incarnation of the crew--host Mike Nelson, Kevin Murphy as Servo and Trace as Crow--shouldn't bungle 80s dystopian trash so badly. Just burn it and call it a day for night! Instead, there's less laughs here than in a NICU.

 3. Robot Holocaust, Ep. 110-- I so wish they'd let this leaky boat of spunk gravy set for a few seasons, it's painful hearing them cut large swaths of air with each tasty pitch to the plate. (Another of Weinstein's shortcomings: minimal puppeteering during the host segments, maximal puppeteering in the theater.)

2. Racket Girls, Ep. 616--Gross, loutish, onerous, wretched. Saved from the dubious honor of worst by the inclusion of the short film Are You Ready For Marriage?, a magical guide for Fifties youths considering jumping the broken glass.

1. Last Of the Wild Horses, Ep. 611--Great, it's a Western. "Ranch war" my ass, more like "ranch dispute." Barely audible, and if not for the Star Trek "Mirror Universe"-inspired host segments, totally skippable. I'd rather watch Earth Vs. Soup riffed by Joey the Lemur, Timmy, and Jim Mallon.

THE 25 BEST MST3K EPISODES

25. Teen-Age Crime Wave, Ep. 522--Gun rights, girl fights, generation gap gone gaga! Sharp incisions of low-effort "youth" flicks are always welcome. Of course the teens crime waving here are well into their 20s. The invention exchanges and fan mail just weren't the same after Joel's departure.

24. Master Ninja I, Ep. 322--Master Ninja II has the You're A Good Sport, Charlie Brown reference; I has Demi Moore (for a little bit) and more "Van" than you can stand. Two different pronunciations of Queen Latifah! Big-ass medallion! Crow's poor head! MASTER NINJA THEME SONG!

23. The Final Sacrifice, Ep. 910--Too low? Too bad. This isn't even the worst Canadian film the crew took head on (although it is the most Canadian episode). Pudge Dude and Snivel Boy, fueled by beer and daddy issues respectively, bring down a forest cult! Some of the movies torn into by MST3K are distressingly stupid, leaving the viewer demonstrably dumber and more depressed by the end. The Final Sacrifice is dumb in a way that invigorates the viewer. Watch just once, and see if you aren't left with "hockey hair of the heart."

22. Teenagers From Outer Space, Ep. 404--Enough of ruffians going thuggish ruggish on Mommy's bone china. How 'bout alien adolescents who treat Earth like one big garden? Super-sounding, certainly. Joel and the Bots comment on the cute carnage with a song in their hearts and the result is a board with a nail in it so big that one day it will destroy us all.

21. The Girl In Lovers Lane, Ep. 509--Member of a quite exclusive club--"Riffed Films Worth A Watch On Its Own." Not that those movies (including Kitten With A Whip, Diabolik, and Tormented) are unfairly maligned pleasures. TGILL, specifically, is a game effort with one compelling performance and the pointless murder of one very likable female character. The boys take this rotting apple and produce a whole succulent pie--and a quart of thirst-quenching cider. Their mess-talk on Big Stupid is worth the ninety minutes alone, and Crow's gut-busting imitation of Jack Elam really should be playing in some museum as we speak.

20. Avalanche, Ep. 1104--The Netflix MST3K was far from flawless. Too many writers, too many riffs delivered rapid-fire with no room for the camaraderie that marked the earlier incarnations. And while he's a nice guy with a commanding presence (6'5" guys in bright yellow jumpsuits blend into the scenery about as effectively as a Baltimore Oriole in a conspiracy of ravens), Jonah breathes a lesser air than Joel and Mike when it comes to hosting duties. (The puppets, let's avoid that topic.)

Season 11 was good for one absolute classic, a '70s disaster flick where everyone involved is too dumb to live. Turns out RIFF BOMBARDMENT! works when the jokes exceed expectations. Features far and away the most memorable host segment of the Netflix era, too.

19. Final Justice, Ep. 1008--Greydon Clark plus Joe Don Baker divided by 1985 equals a burlap sack spilling over with comedy quartz. Certain fans might find the constant weight jokes hurled at the sausage-sucking lead are too much of a bad thing. I am not among their ranks. Whoever keeps a straight face during the ending credits is simultaneously a stronger, and weaker, person than I.

18. Village Of The Giants, Ep. 523--Bert I. Gordon is a legend for several reasons, not the least of which is his distinction as the director with the most films riffed in the show's history. Eight in total, just a sampling of his oeuvre. What the man lacked in budget, and nuance, and common sense, he atoned for with ambition. Giants, and the problems they cause, is the plot for several "Mr. BIG" offerings, and if VOTG isn't the most substantive, that's because none of them are. It is definitely the most "starring a young Ron Howard," however, and if you replace Tommy Kirk with Dean Jones and make the ducks berate their nephews rather than shake it in the club, it's basically a Disney film. Smartly, Mike and the Bots save their scorn for a totally different film--Willow--while marveling at the glorious goofiness unfolding before their eyes. (This affection seeps out of the theater, evidenced in "The Greatest Frank Of All," a magnificent tribute to the finest second banana on the whole damn tree.)

17. Mac And Me, Ep. 1201--An homage to E.T., Back To The Future, and probably Gremlins, Mac And Me is the stuff snark-a-lot writing staffs salivate brooks over. That infamous wheelchair scene Paul Rudd punished Conan O'Brien with? Is like the third most batshit sequence in the film.

16. Mitchell, Ep. 512--On October 23, 1993, three extraordinary events occurred: Joe Carter's game-winning home run in the World Series, Nirvana's only live performance of "You Know You're Right," and Joel Hodgson hosted his last episode of MST3K. Wire to wire, this is a fluffernutter of a farewell, chased with an Old Milwaukee balanced on a CD of the Doctor Detroit soundtrack. Every time I watch Mitchell, the air in the room grows heavy with sweat and stubborn stains.

15. Jack Frost, Ep. 813--A burgoo of myth and folklore, only built for gallium bowls. The Mike/Kevin/Bill trio is noted for a more acerbic approach than the other trio combos before and after, chucking shot puts at the tragedies onscreen whereas Joel or Jonah-led teams settled for tennis balls coated in snot and wrapped in old newspaper. Russo-Finnish absurdity seemed to mellow 'em, though. Even Crow Bear's "Grr!"s are more heart-warming than bone-chilling.

14. Cave Dwellers, Ep. 301--AKA, the show digs in and gets comfy. A Conan The Barbarian retread with a baffling opening the guys parody to near-perfection, Cave Dwellers is fulla "unk"--lunk-headed, clunky, hunky, funk-faking and begging for a severe dunking. Might as well jump.

13. Devil Doll, Ep. 818--A super-sized Twilight Zone written by a Rod Serling no longer willing to humor Ray Bradbury's passive-aggressiveness. Such a creepy, vicious story, populated with repulsive bodies of various compositions. The riffing is like talking about funerals while watching a murder.

12. The Girl In Gold Boots, Ep. 1002--Sleazy Sixties road trip-turned-crime caper. Several moments rank in my hypothetical "Favorite MST3K Moments," including the Teleportation scene, the Hollywood montage, and anytime someone is singing. By and large, a bop.

11. Girls Town, Ep. 601--With real reform school action! When Mel Torme is the bad boy, Paul Anka is the dreamboat, and Mamie van Doren is the (27-year-old) teen girl on the precipice, it's gold or go home. I tell you these flimsy "teensploitation" films were made for some good old-fashioned verbal maltreatment. What else, what else…oh, am I alone in wondering why no one flips out over the Platters cameo here, whereas

10. Catalina Caper, Ep. 204--Little Richard in Catalina Caper is the stuff from which legends are gradually removed, while receiving frantic assurances no one holds them responsible. The only comedy riffed by the crew, the general consensus is, "a well-meaning, if ultimately underwhelming, experiment." Personally, this eppy is as charming as a robot's unrequited love and bright as Joel's jumpsuit. Don't bring your wet blanket to the beach, buckos.

9. Soul Taker, Ep. 1001--The '90s were a pretty good time for crap cinema starring Joe Estevez. There's a real good movie here, hidden somewhere in Robert Z'dar's jaw, or perhaps split in two and crammed in Joe E.'s armpits. A fun watch on its own, unmissable with some MKB added. Oh, and Joel pops by to say hi and thanks for all the hot fish. And to prove red>blue.

8. The Giant Gila Monster, Ep. 402--Immaculate intermissions, pointless movie skewered joyously, why am I the only one with this in my top 10? Put a knee up for the Mexican beaded lizard.

7. "Manos" The Hands Of Fate, Ep. 424--First is not always best, or best-remembered, but the nostalgia veil is real. Real pink, real ticklish. Manos is a film so all-points poor, even Joel gets flustered. Amazing one-liners pile up like slave wives on the pyre, including a 65-second tour de force via Servo near the end that, much like the Komodo dragon, can only be admired and feared. Preceded by Hired Pt. 2, the Empire Strikes Back of shorts-sequels.

6. Werewolf, Ep. 904--The '90s were a pretty good time for crap cinema starring Joe Estevez. A cornucopia of cringe spreads the length of the table top in this, the single greatest argument against Arizona statehood. No one is exempt from contempt, from the hairstylists and wardrobe department to the special effects team to every single on-camera offender, everyone here puts the "ass" and "eww" in "cast and crew." Adrianna Miles gives the most gleefully terrible performance across all 196 films, her thick accent and flat delivery the equivalent of an Everlasting Gobstopper for those of us with a sweet tooth for hideous acting. The well-earned takedown is overall marvelous, and there's no greater credits riffing possible.

5. Zombie Nightmare, Ep. 604--The pinnacle of the Mike/Kevin/Trace era is overlooked by the fanbase for reasons, shit, I can't say. A hockey-loving, metal thrashing mad bodybuilder did not give the world this deliciously distasteful fusion of voodoo, zombies, law enforcement corruption and hair metal just for it to regularly place outside the top 50 on fan lists. The troops goof masterfully over every icky inch of what is arguably the apex of Adam West's big-screen filmography (y'know, since Tim Burton's a jerk).

4. Space Mutiny, Ep. 820--There's some installments I find inexplicably adored. Pod People? Eegah? "No thanks," and "nice try." Space Mutiny is justly praised. A slow-starter, it builds like the muscles on the raging barrel of our protagonist. The hallmarks of bad movies from earlier eras abound, which is why the riff delivers, over and over. We as a species should not still be making movies so inept. And yet.

3. The Pumaman, Ep. 903--The musical riffs alone would put this in the Honorable Mentions. (When do I not want the flavor of bacon in a dip?) The unlikeliest superhero since, hey up to you, The Pumaman is a lame from nose to toes, and his spirit guide is somehow devoid of personality and a more fitting subject to center a film around. A bottomless treasure chest of humor.

2. Overdrawn At The Memory Bank, Ep. 822--Soft-focus public TV punishment for a crime corporeal beings cannot possibly commit. Raul Julia insists on acting to his usual standard, the plot is ahead of its time (ditto the anti-antieater agenda) and as often happens (see #1) the reach of the filmmakers exceeded their collective grasp by several hundred feet. Possibly the highest percentage of laugh-out-loud riffs in any episode. Even the fat jokes are brilliant. The sketches are good, except for "When Loving Lovers Love," which is genius and spotlights the breathtaking UST between Pearl and Brain Guy.

1. Time Chasers, Ep. 821--In the intro, I mentioned the two great arguments among "MSTies." Joel vs. Mike generates the most heat, with the former even anonymously throwing a log on the fire way back when. The Crow debate, although not as famed, is also a corker. Trace Beaulieu was the best puppeteer on the show, imbuing the li'l golden guy with personality in a few brief gestures. Bill Corbett, well, learning is growing, and growing is learning. Vocally, each man established themselves quickly and definitively. Crow is a careener of a character, and the conventional wisdom states fans must either prefer Trace's mischievous take or Bill's dramatic cynicism.

Using this list to determine my own stance is foolhardy. Numbers bounce funny. Joel hosted 86 episodes; Mike, 90. Joel's era accounts for eight entries on the "Best Of" list; Mike, fifteen. Put differently, 9.3% of Joel's episodes are among my favorites, compared to 16.6% of Mike's. So Mike is my choice for Host With Most? No. Joel is, easily.

At least the humans fought on an even field. Trace voiced Crow for 128 experiments, eighty more than Bill. The OG holds it down twelve times on the honor roll. New Guy, eleven. That's 9.3% of Trace's turns, 22.9% of Bill's. So…bully for Bill, he wears the Crow crown and all that, yes? Well…yes.

Again...numbers bounce funny.

Like 7/7/1777.

Like Werewolf, Time Chasers is a solid argument for cutting some of the loose thread away from the Yooo-nited States. Like Overdrawn, the story holds surface-level intrigue, with nowhere near the money or talent necessary to fulfill its potential. And when I think of Crow, I am inevitably drawn to the Crow of this one show, how vital he is to the storyline, and how only Bill's Crow--put-upon, abrasive, ready to hock on a baby if one's stupid enough to crawl within spit-shot--could pull it off. He's not guided by affection, or justice, he's just about staying upright and functional, so screw Joe Don Baker if he can't take a joke! 

It's awesome when the "victims" of MST3K can roll with the punches (even the low blows), and you can count the cast of Time Chasers among the cool kids. Why not? Thanks to the irritable intellectuals from the middle of America, their film will outlive several Best Picture winners.

If only they'd riffed The English Patient...