Dinocroc vs. Supergator

The illustrious head_of_fema and I got together yesterday afternoon to view another awesomely bad movie, Dinocroc vs. Supergator, which he owns on Blu-Ray, natch. Matt had first suggested Halle Berry’s Catwoman, but when I read that D vs. S included David Carradine “in one of his final performances [before he killed himself jerking off in Thailand]”, I knew it was time for us to see some people getting eaten. Getting et.

By the way, previews included Dinoshark (exactly what you might imagine from the title) and Cyclops (“A general will be betrayed. Alliances will be forged. Revenge will be delivered,” said they. “Passive voice will be used,” replied I.)

…And now I’m thinking Roger Corman should probably produce Dinoshark vs. Cyclops.

OK, onward!

Alarms are blaring at Drake Industries Research Lab in Hawaii. “Everybody out now! It’s escaped!” yells a blond MILF in a lab coat, never mind that if it has escaped—just an idea but—maybe everybody should stay in. At 0:46, the Dinocroc or the Supergator, one, has its first white-coated snack. (Matt and I never figured out which beast was which. All I know is one had a lopey T-Rex gait, and the other ran low to the ground and wide, like Tulip.)

Dr. MILF hides behind a palm tree and gets on the phone. She calls Drake (David Carradine), who is smoking a cigar and having his blood pressure taken by a stripper nurse—oops, sorry, stripper doctor. My bad. He gets the low-down on what’s happening at his research facility from Dr. MILF, who then watches the other beast bust through a wall and flatten a dude. So many white-coated people get et.

Next up are the credits, including sweeping shots of Hawaiian landscape and a theme song, evocative of the Spaghetti Westerns of yesteryear, which will play relentlessly throughout the movie. And hurt my feelings.

A couple is lying on the beach (“Fully clothed. Interesting,” remarks Matt). They debate whether to stay there or go to a waterfall.  She runs; he follows. [Many superfluous shots of them running through tall grass.] They arrive at the waterfall. “Come on. Let’s get wet,” says the dude, in a totally non-sexual way. Way to blow an opportunity, guy.

He tells her she’ll look prettier—no shit—if she gets him a beer, and she—no shit—goes to get him one. Serves him right: one of the beasts, who had apparently Flat-Stanleyed himself, rises up out of the shin-deep water to snatch the dude under. Girl turns around, can’t find her beau, and then gets et by the other beast. So far, the two beasts are like ships passing in the night. Ships that eat people.

Two dudes are arguing on the phone. Paul is some sort of investigative reporter or something?, and he’s saying he’s found some sketchy stuff at Drake Labs, like maybe they’re using the growth hormone not on plants as they’re supposed to, but on animals. The other guy, Mark, is telling him… I can’t remember, but there’s a homoerotic what-are-you-wearing moment at the end of their conversation.

A young blond in a uniform (we learn later she’s a conservation officer, ohhhh) docks a speedboat and goes up the pier to speak to her father, the police chief, with whom she shares an inappropriate amount of personal space. He reports that something strange is afoot; they found clothes and backpacks at the waterfall. Blondie should check it out but not without backup. She punches her dad flirtatiously. Ew, Electra.

Meanwhile, Drake sends in mercenaries to kill the beasts a la Predator. But you know what? They’re just in it for the money, so you know what else? They all get et. Ha. That’ll teach them to be so greedy.

Victoria, a British Natalie Imbruglia impersonator, beats up a bouncer to talk to Drake. Not sure why she has to beat up the bouncer, since she works for Drake and so does the bouncer, but I think it’s to show how tough she is. Drake recounts an anecdote about this pizza place on the Lower West Side of Manhattan, where he grew up; on their boxes was written, “You’ve tried the rest. Now try the best.” And he instructs her to call The Cajun. (This scene was done eleventy billion times better in Pulp Fiction.)

Cut to The Cajun, a hot guy with a rifle (but no discernible accent, Matt points out), who cuts himself with a Bowie knife and drips his blood in the water. His phone rings, and he simultaneously talks to Victoria and shoots an alligator in the face.

Paul, you remember Paul, who turns out works for the federal government, duh, is fishing. His lover(?), Mark, calls him and says he’s had intel that proves Paul was right! Fishy shit going on at Drake! Keep digging! Build a case!

Cassidy, the blond ranger who’s maybe probably having sex with her dad, reappears in her speedboat, which breaks down at the dock where Paul is fishing. She peruses his computer files while he checks her propellers and knows he’s not an engineer as he claims. He offers her a ride in his Jeep. (Now I’m concerned because the cover said these beasts can outrun SUVs!!!)

They have this conversation:
Paul: Why did you become a conservation officer?
Cassidy: I love animals. I hate seeing them hurt or exploited.
Paul: What if I killed a wild boar?
Cassidy: I’d throw you up against the car and handcuff you.
Paul: Is that a promise or a threat?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute, Paul! Are you flirting with her? I thought you were having sex with Mark! I have no time to be confused, as they hear a roar and speed off in the slower-than-mutant-reptile-mobile.

I’m going to paraphrase a little here for the sake of Internet space:

• Some bikinis go to the waterfall and ask a nature photographer to snap pics of them; he says, “OK, one roll,” because apparently we still put film in cameras.
• Bikinis & photographer = et

• A movie producer asks the hotel clerk for a room stocked with food, liquor, and cheeses (that’s right!: food and cheeses) for three, if you know what I mean. (I think the producer’s telling the clerk that he’s invited for a three-way, but later it turns out to be the producer and two chicks, in a hot tub.)
• Producer/chicks = et

In the hospital, Dr. MILF explains how Drake misused federal funds for this project. Paul videotapes it. Once everyone’s gone, Victoria jabs Dr. MILF in the neck with a syringe full of cyanide (MILF: “What are you doing?” Victoria: “Something bad”). Paul catches her, but she defibrillates him and gets away.

The Cajun has the brilliant idea to get the Dinocroc and the Supergator together and let them duke it out. They’ll use helicopters and explosives to bring them together. The Cajun and Paul get in separate helicopters* and use heat-seeking electronics to locate the (cold-blooded, notes Matt) reptiles but then go back home because they didn’t bring the explosives with them? Seems like they could’ve made one trip. But I’m not Cajun so I don’t know.

*Cassidy kisses Paul square on the mouth with tongue at this point, in front of her dad/lover, but just minutes before Mark had told Paul to “watch [his] 6”, which I understood as phone sex. I DON’T KNOW, PEOPLE.

• A tour guide is taking a group of tourists around an abandoned hotel, which had been devastated by a storm years prior.
• Tourists (after some truly spectacular bad acting)/tour guide/bus driver = et

Paul tells The Cajun it doesn’t matter that the MILF is dead because he sent her videotaped testimony to a friend.

The Cajun: What kind of friend?
Paul: The serious kind.

EVERYONE NEEDS TO STOP BEING SUCH A SLUT.

Paul’s serious friend has made his way to Hawaii at this point and shoots Victoria. Drake’s stripper doctor comes down the stairs. “Who are you?” asks the serious friend. “I’m Drake’s nurse,” she replies. (Me: “Earlier he called her ‘doctor’!” Matt: “She must have a PhD in nursing.”) Drake has a heart attack and dies. Of autoerotic asphyxiation. In Thailand.

Back at the abandoned hotel, Police-Dad and Cassidy have a Moment:
P-D: You ready?
Cassidy: I’m your daughter, aren’t I?
P-D: And I’m lucky to have you. I should tell you that more. And have more sex with you.

[I added the last sentence.]

(Me: “They just had a Moment. He’s gonna die.” Matt, indignantly: “SPOILER ALERT!”)

• Police-Dad = et

Cassidy cries for exactly 34 seconds and then gets pissed. “It killed my dad. I’m gonna kill it.” She leads it through a tunnel into a field, where Paul and The Cajun are crouching behind a tractor, sharing a homoerotic touch.

This whole movie is nothing but sex.

The beasts collide! It’s finally the vs. part of the movie!

While one is killing the other, Paul comes up with a convoluted plan to finish off the victor, involving an explosive and a tub of rainwater. And guess what. It totally works.

The Cajun, Paul, and Cassidy walk off into the sunset, probably to have sex with each other. And Mark too. They shouldn’t leave Mark out.

Overall, super-fun and recommended. I just wish, since everybody was apparently having so much sex, they would’ve showed some of it on screen instead of making me picture it all in my mind. It was hot in my mind, though.