The Being (1983)
The ultimate terror has taken form...
Year of Release: 1983
Also Known As: Easter Sunday, Freak, The Pottsville Horror
Genre: Horror/Science Fiction
Running Time: 82 minutes (1:22)
Director: Jackie Kong
Bill Osco ... Mortimer Lutz
Martin Landau ... Garson Jones
Marianne Gordon ... Laurie
Jose Ferrer ... Mayor Gordon Lane
Dorothy Malone ... Marge Smith
Ruth Buzzi ... Virginia Lane
Jerry Maren ... Monster
Vern Stierman ... Narrator (voice) (uncredited)
A strange and evil creature lurks in the local disposal dump. What is it? Is it a man? An animal? An extraterrestrial fiend?! "The Being" is a freak of nature driven insane by radioactive waste, mutilating and decapitating all in its wake. It leaves no survivors. Run for your lives!
The Being, remindin' us that you can take the porn outta Idaho, but you can never take Idaho outta the porn. Seriously, anytime somebody tries that whole "purgin' of the immoral" crap it invariably sends their daughters chargin' headlong into the waitin' arms of the porn industry, or the stripper's pole. Didn't these people ever see Footloose for cripes' sake? Tryin' to suppress this sorta thing always leads to rebellion that inevitably blows up on their collective faces. Heck, the only other thing that leads to more un-Christianlike sex than the confiscation of erotic materials is abstinence-only sex education. But then there's really no shame in bein' beaten by the best, nothin'll ever yield a higher bumper crop than that. Now if you'll excuse me, I'ma check out some of the repressed Ida-hos in this month's issue of Preacher's Daughter Monthly. Huh... with a crucifix? Come on girls, now you're just bein' vindictive, sides, that's gonna make Thanksgivin' real awkward an... oh, the review, right. Seriously though, I've got somethin' here that's gonna blow the lid offa the Obama presidency quicker'n Monica blew the lid offa Clinton's. Forget Benghazi, this here's the real deal. This is Obama's Lewietnam Katrinagate. Now, as the movie begins, some punk kid comes beatin' cheeks outta this waste disposal site bein' chased by some kinda sentient goulash slobber monster an ends up runnin' into this auto salvage yard an takin' off in a Pontiac Bonneville that's approximately 27 feet long, only the thing's on toppa the car an ends up installin' a sunroof in it an twistin' the kid's head off like the cookie section of an Oreo. What's that got to do with Obama? Simple. When's the last time you've ever seen a perfectly functional car in a scrapyard that cranks on the first try? After... oh I dunno... Cash for Clunkers maybe? Up to this point I just thought that Congress was hittin' the derpentine a little too hard durin' lunch with all their impeachment talk, but I finally see why they're so adamant about it now. Well, that tears it, I'm with you guys now. I'll even mail in my copy of the movie so we can show definitively that Obama's presidential policies're directly responsible for the death of the aforementioned juvenile delinquent. I mean, if the car hadn't started, the kid would've abandoned the stretch Tempo an ran for it, right? But that's not what happened, is it? I've seen enough. Impeach this man now, RIGHT NOW, for the good of fleeing ruralites everywhere, before anyone else has to die.
Sorry I had to get so frothy there, I'll try to be a little more positive for the rest of this. But that damn Obama, just look at what he's done, he's got me all riled up to the point that I can't even enjoy talkin' about a classic nature gone awry movie starrin' a bipedal trough of pig slop. I gotta get to my happy place here, this is way more important than any political issue of the last thirty years. Alright, I'm okay now, an it's a good thing, cause I don't wanna do anything to tarnish the significance of The Being, which, as it happens, is the greatest movie ever to be filmed in Meridian, Idaho, by a 23 year old chick an feature Ruth Buzzi as the spearhead in the fight to eliminate the orgasm a la George Orwell's 1984. So in light of that, here're just a few of the epiphanies I experienced watchin' this one. First, if you burn down a buildin' where a prospective business is about to set up shop, it becomes impossible for that business to open anywhere, an the service they provide will be purged from society forever as a result of your heroic actions. My only question is; why hasn't someone done this to Hobby Lobby yet? Second, puttin' down your 1978 Chevy Blazer is one of the hardest things a man ever has to do. But there comes a time when you can see that its sufferin' somethin' fierce just to turn over in the mornin', let alone keep the fuel circulatin' properly on account of how tired an worn out the pump is. Then the next thing you know it's hackin' up transmission fluid an the radiator block's shakin' an crackin' like the San Andreas fault line an you come to realize that it's time to take it out back an put a bullet in the gas tank so it won't have to live in pain anymore. Man, that's hard to do. An it don't help when the cops show up an start screamin' at you regardin' the five alarm fire that's startin' to spread all over the neighborhood either, can't they see that you're in PAIN? An third, When you're at the drive-in with that special lady, be sure to always carry protection. Especially if you're gonna make the sign of the spring-loaded kangaroo rat in the front seat like animals where anything can just seep in through the ventilation system an biodegrade the both of you into a coupla unsightly piles of creamed porn an acid washed genes.
That last one alone's worth the price of admission, but ya know somethin'? I've always considered children to be horrible monsters of the worst kind. Rotten little horrors, always screamin', bitchin', gettin' their disgustin' hands all over everything, screwin' with your stuff while their parents just sit back an enjoy the fact that it ain't happenin' to *them* for the time bein'. But that was the old me. I've evolved as a person, an I can now see children for what they really are. I wasn't bein' fair, children aren't monsters. After all, monsters've at least got enough respect for Jesus not to make a mockery of his execution date by stealin' hard-boiled Christian symbolism from people smaller'n they are, right in Jesus' front lawn. I mean, this poor little three year old in the movie's just tryin' to snag an egg or two to pay tribute to Jesus, only every time she gets close some ten year old shithead whose parents're livin' vicariously through 'em shows up an snakes it just before she can get ahold of it. Once this's happened about a half a dozen times even the monster's so disgusted by the behavior of these little bastards that it reaches a gnarly lookin' paw up outta this Caddyshack gopher sized hole an helps the little girl out. I mean, Jebus Cripes people. If I was any of those older kids' parents I'da left the kids an took the goddamned monster home. Yeah, you Christians're really makin' the J-man proud alright, go ahead, give yourselves a big pat on the back. No wonder the Jews're God's chosen people.
The movie begins with a trespassin' teenager haulin' butt outta this abandoned rock quarry towards an auto wreckin' yard with somethin' real P.O.'d an slobbery hot on his heels. Only by the time he gets into the junkyard it's gone from about 5pm in the afternoon to around 8pm an so he's a little bit winded after runnin' around for three hours tryin' to find a hole in the fence big enough to squeeze through so he decides to hop in this El Torino (which if you dunno, is a Ford Torino that had Tom Arnold usin' the back end for a trampoline) an get the heck outta there before John Saxon shows up lookin' for Freddy's skeleton. Unfortunately, the thing that was chasin' 'im's now on toppa the car makin' like Mitt Romney's dog an once it starts gettin' windburn it gets real upset an tears the car a new sunroof an yanks the kid's head off like Janet Jackson's boob cover at Super Bowl XXXVIII, leavin' the car to roll into the office building, causin' dozens of dollars in damages. Then this cop (Morty) that looks like Sly Stallone in Rocky IV after he stopped shavin' an got grizzled up to fight Dolph Lundgren heads over to where the car's been towed to look for the VIN number while somethin' hidin' in the trunk watches 'im. It's not as as strange as you might think when you consider they're in Idaho an it's harvest season, but it might be important later. Then this broad shows up in Red Forman's Vista Cruiser an picks up some grease monkey so they can spin donuts in the road awhile an try to improve the car's appearance. Meanwhile, at the police station, this white trash deputy hauls in a Mexican for fishin' without a license so all the rainbow trout in the area'll be safe an starts tryin' to figure out how best to prepare the confiscated fish. Dude's takin' the protect and serve thing a little too far, in my opinion. Plus he's from Idaho, so he's prolly got a Nez Perce with legit tribal fishin' rights an just can't tell 'em apart. But anyway, he sits the guy down in front of a TV set while he goes to find some butter, an there's this news report bein' broadcast with this jackass from the environmental safety commission (Garson) tellin' the anchor about how "contamination" is basically subjective an that dumpin' nuclear waste into the aquifer's no big deal an how everybody needs to just get off Mr. Burns' back. Elsewhere, the couple that was whippin' the drunken donuts earlier goes over to the drive-in cause it's cheaper'n a motel room an start foggin' the windows so bad that it looks like they're filmin' a John Carpenter movie inside til kale smoothies start pourin' outta the heatin' vents an coagulatin' like blood in a Maxi pad til the Toxic Avenger pulls 'imself together an squashes 'em into Vegemite.
Unfortunately, now the thing's *really* mad cause it's got human-goo all over it an so it has to head over to the next car an jerk Hillbilly Jim outta the window an work out some of its frustration. While that's goin' on, Morty gets a call over the CB radio about the kids goin' missin' over at the drive-in an so he drives over there an looks around til he sits in some Linda Blair spit-up an calls it a day. Looks like Linda ate the drive-in nachos, rookie mistake. Then Morty drives home an finds so much green gelatin in his bed that he figures Bill Cosby must be around somewhere gettin' ready to shoot a Jello commercial when somethin' reaches out from under the bed an starts tryin' to give 'im a shredicure an he ends up havin' to run outta the house an across the railroad tracks an narrowly avoid gettin' Spamtrak'd by the train that's passin' through. Now that's art. Bruno Mars *says* he'd jump in front of a train for us, but this guy actually did it. So the next mornin' he heads into the Ore-Ida plant to tell the mayor about gettin' chased around by the Contamityville Horror an pretty quick Garson shows up an the mayor tells 'em to go do their little tests real quiet like so nobody'll find out that his bumper crop's about to go Attack of the Killer Potatoes if the water's all gunked up. Sides, the mayor's got bigger fish to fry at the moment, cause his wife's headin' up the committee to wipe out porn in our lifetime an they're havin' a big rally downtown that afternoon. They generally go in with the KKK recruitment booth to save on the venue costs. So Morty goes outside an runs into the mayor's horse-faced wife who tells 'im she saw Satan hisself carryin' a massage table into one of the local storefronts the night before an that she won't stand for any of this new-age voodoo medical care cause all she needs to stay in tip top shape is Jesus an a daily spoon full of olive oil to stay regular. Then the mayor comes by an shills for all the cameras about the damage nekkid boobies're doin' to society so Mrs. Ed'll let 'im pull out an pop one off on 'er face later that night. Then Morty heads over to this greasy spoon diner an tells the waitress (Laurie) that it's dangerous to go alone what with all the guacamole he's been findin' all over town an that she needs to wait for 'im to come pick 'er up after work so he can show 'er his nightstick. So later that night while Morty's lookin' real pleased with 'imself drivin' Laurie home, these prepubescent plebes're camped out in the hedge outside Gandalf the White's mama's place an once the old lady (Marge) goes inside this little puke runs up onto 'er porch an slings some Ol' Roy canned dog food all over the windows an takes off so he can go pelt his remedial math teacher's place before curfew.
Then the POV pustule goes inside Marge's place an goes all interior defecator an starts rearrangin' 'er furniture with its fist an gettin' P.O.'d after it can't find any good toys in 'er son's room til she finally sees the thing an it has to split like Octomom's hoo-ha durin' child birth. Elsewhere, Morty pulls up beside deputy douche an tells 'im he's goin' home for the night an that if he's gonna insist on roleplayin' Joe Arpaio all night to at least plant some evidence on the minorities this time cause he's about had it with siftin' through the stack of wrongful arrest lawsuits every mornin'. So then the douche pulls over this chick for speedin' an starts flirtin' with 'er to see if she's willin' to commit some criminal mischief in his underpants til he leans against 'er car too hard an ends up practically fallin' in onto 'er lap an bendin' his porque wrench into a three-quarter inch wobble socket against the door frame an lets 'er off with a warning since he's no longer got any intent to distribute. Once she's outta sight, he gets back in his cruiser an starts waitin' for some perps to drive by so he can begin to repair the damage to his self respect when all the sudden somethin' in the backseat makes like Ox Baker an heart punches 'im right through the upholstery an sits there squeezin' his aorta like a stress ball while he watches. The next day, Morty finally gets around to scoopin' up that Nickelodeon slime like he was supposed to an takes it over to Garson so he can put it under a microscope an see how much grosser it gets when it's bigger an after a while Garson gets this look on his face like he hadn't seen anything this green an disgustin' since The Grinch came in for a prostate exam. Then the news lady catches 'im on the way to his car an starts givin' 'im the business til he explains to 'er that what's actually dangerous isn't so much the slime as *tellin'* people about the slime, an that this is really her mess an he'll be damned if he's gonna clean it up. Meanwhile, Morty's at home catchin' a nap an dreamin' about bein' in a plane with Garson til the Twilight Zone gremlin shows up an jerks Garson outta the cockpit while Morty tries frantically to remember how Shatner handled the situation. Then the phone starts goin' off like celebratory gun fire at Cliven Bundy's house an Garson tells 'im to get his hiney out to the disposal site, only then he realizes he's forgotten about givin' Laurie a ride home on account of 'er failin' to give up the groceries the day before an heads over to the diner first. He's able to catch 'er just as she's headin' out the door, but once they start headin' to his car all the C.H.U.D.s start pokin' their heads up outta the manholes an pretty quick somethin' tosses a regurgitated pork roast at 'em an they have to run back in the diner an use the door to smash the bejezus outta what looks like Thing after he turned into a Krokodil addict.
Then the gloperoni an cheese monster goes around back an sneaks in through the employees only entrance an they have to lock it in the freezer where it starts goin' apeshit an doin' The Swim til the mayor shows up. Only by then the thing's melted into a puddle that looks like the inside of George Romero's lungs an the mayor tells 'em never to call 'im again unless it's about potatoes an that if he hears anything more about this Morty'll never work in the city of Soggybottom ever again. Elsewhere, these three Idaho Speds from the anti-sex league're staked out in front of the would-be massage parlor lookin' ugly as sin so nobody'll even think about physical contact ever again, til they decide to just torch the place so they can go home an play Custer's Revenge on their Ataris. Course, what they aren't countin' on is the fact that the Beef Hellington monster has a 20% stake in the massage parlor an the moment they separate to look for somethin' flammable it turns 'em all into corned beef gash for screwin' with its financial security. While that's goin' on, Mrs. Ed's party finally kicks off with this Yoko Ohnoes chick wearin' a Cher wig singin' one of those Viking operas that sound like she's receivin' cunnilingus while the mayor has a staff meetin' with councilors Beam an Daniels out in the garage. But about that time he spots the toxic paste shufflin' around in his rear view mirror lookin' through the boxes of unsold yard sale items an peels outta there before it finds the silly putty an thinks he's sellin' off members of the creature's extended family. Then Mrs. Ed comes out to see what'n the Lord's name's goin' on an pretty quick she gets strangled by a roll of slimy Bubble Tape. Looks like 'er lifelong streak of never gettin' the tongue just came to an end. Meanwhile, Morty an Laurie finally make it to the Oakridge outhouse where Garson shows 'em what's either the monster's livin' room or irrigation run off from the Boise River an tells 'im there're tunnels beneath it that lead just about everywhere an that he'll show Morty the one that comes up under the topless bar for $5. Then he starts tellin' 'em about how the monster's light sensitive an so all these choppy day/night transitions the editor's screwin' up've got it real P.O.'d an about that time Sloppy Joe pokes his head up outta one of the tunnels an slips Garson the tongue til Laurie puts a gag order on it with a splittin' maul an it ducks back down the hole to look for a speech therapist.
Needless to say, after bein' attacked by the only thing on the planet that's slimier'n Dick Cheney, everybody's just about ready to get the heck outta there, only once they get in the truck it pops outta the ashtray in the backseat an starts tongue tyin' Garson again an Morty has to threaten to turn the car around so it'll slink back down another hole an behave itself. Cripes alive, this thing turns up more often than priestly DNA in a rape kit, I'm thinkin' this monster's gotten ahold of Seth Brundle's teleportation pods or somethin'. But anyway, then they head back to the police station so they can bust out the glass on their "break in case of Mexican uprisin'" arsenal an lock Laurie up so they won't have to be any more embarrassed about havin' 'er pull their hairy assess outta the fire than they already are... err... I mean so she won't get hurt or anything. Yeah, an I'm sure she'll perfectly safe in the holdin' cell too, even though based upon what we've seen so far, it doesn't seem too unlikely that the thing might spring forth from 'er own vagina. So once Morty an Garson take off to abuse the ooze, the dispatcher releases Laurie on 'er own reconnaissance after she threatens to tell Morty about the Hustlers she watched' im stash in the evidence locker an so she goes outside where Marge's wanderin' around all depressed an with even less sense of purpose than David Spade when Chris Farley died. Seems Marge's boy up an vanished on 'er like a highschooler's virginity on prom night just a few days before the fallout from all this fallout started happenin'. So Laurie decides to walk 'er home in case Fred Thompson shows up an tries to fast talk 'er into a reverse mortgage an when they get there it looks like Cyrano de Bergerac stopped by an sneezed all over the porch swing an Marge tells 'er not to worry about it cause it's just "part of Michael." Meanwhile, Morty an Garson're goin' over the script tryin' to figure out how in the name of J. R. Simplot they're gonna deal with haz-Matt til he shows up an starts bustin' out the back windshield an droolin' all over Morty's spare tire. Then Morty peels outta there an Garson has to learn the hard way that lead poisonin' don't do diddly against Shreddie Mercury an they end up havin' to bail out an blow up the gas tank til the air's more toxic than Beijing's after a chili feed. At this point, they're pretty sure that Gunky Brewster's finally gone to the big Chernobyl reactor in the sky an so they head into this chemical plant an get the bejezus scared out of 'em by this closeted pussy while they're lookin' for a phone. Only once they find it the thing's dead an pretty quick so's Garson after the Cyglops regoops an tears 'im apart worse'n John Stewart on a Fox News report til only Morty an his splittin' maul stand between the man-eatin' meatloaf an the total annihilation of about a trillion taters. THIS. IS. BOISE!
Alrighty, well, this one's really gettin' a bum rap on the IMDB, because of course it is. But, as usual, I think too many people're bein' just a tad stuck up. I know you're prolly all tired of hearing this, but I'm gonna keep trottin' this gold nugget out until people start gettin' the picture: "A movie can be absolutely anything, except boring." - Joe Bob Briggs. Now, please, remind me exactly what part of this movie was boring? Go on, I'll wait. Exactly, there isn't one. This movie ain't got time for boring, cause it's got so much wall to wall crap goin' on to ever slow down and allow itself to drag. Does that create problems? That's putting it mildly. Movie's an editing disaster, there's no question about that. It's clear to me that a second scene (one I didn't include due to irrelevance) involving the blonde deputy and the Mexican guy that's fishing illegally that occurs the next day in the movie should actually have gone before the scene where the guy's hauled into the jail. Because once it's over, nothing at all comes of it. Also, in the opening sequence, where the kid's running from the disposal site to the junkyard, it goes from day to night when only a few minutes have elapsed. Then, later on, after Bill Osco (or a stunt double) jumps in front of a train for us (which is a damn ballsy and dangerous stunt, incidentally, and one that I doubt had any intelligent supervision or approval) an narrowly escapes the monster, it happens again. Before he crosses the tracks, it's night, once he sits up on the other side, it's morning, and there're a few more of these same kinda situations at various other times as well. Then you've got dialogue that suggests something isn't supposed to happen for a while, but it's the very next thing that happens (Osco was gonna come back later to drive Marianne Gordon home from work, but after he says it, there he is with a shit eatin' grin drivin' 'er). So the editing alone keeps this one from earning a genuine "good" designation, which I'm willing to admit. Sometimes it's so bad that you can't even tell what day it is or how much time has elapsed between now and what you've seen moments before, which, again, isn't exactly going to garner a lot of praise.
It's also got a monster that teleports around town and turns up in places that seem impossible (because it can turn into liquid a la Jack Frost, it's not necessarily impossible, but if they don't show us how the monster got in, it certainly appears that way) to a greater degree than any slasher in history. Think Jason's everywhere at once? Jason's goddamn Slowpoke Rodriguez next to this thing. They do try to explain it by revealing all the tunnels near the end, but it's still so far out there that it challenges even *my* suspension of disbelief. And yet, I'll probably watch it another ten times throughout the course of my life, where I may never watch some of the movies with higher ratings ever again. Because this movie is far more entertaining than a lot of movies that're technically "better" than it is. You can also see somebody drivin' Osco's truck after they bail out of it before blowin' it up, but I remain unpersuaded that a 3.3 does this movie justice.
Okay, I'll stop white knightin' this thing, at least long enough to get down to the nitty gritty and do some serious scientific investigation into the existence of redeeming value. The plot's pretty standard fare, and one that's been used in a lot of classic science fiction movies from the 50s. Radioactive waste turns someone/something into an icky glopola monster that roams around killin' anybody prettier'n it is. Though I think this movie does a better job of making itself seem a whole lot more disgusting than those older movies did. Mostly, in the olden days, we just watched stuffed shirts talk about the effects of radiation and what can happen as a result of exposure. Here, we've got a Grade-A side of beef that leaves guacamole at every crime scene. Which is a major improvement even if the plot isn't exactly original. The acting is not completely without redeeming value, unfortunately, the main character is played by the producer and the husband of the director, so as you might expect, he's not gonna be receiving any of those superficial golden statues anytime soon. He's bad, and I'm willing to admit that. The rest of the cast, however, is fully loaded with a lot of TV talent and a guy that eventually did pretty well for himself, so it's kind of a wash. Which is unfortunate, because if not for the weak link in the most important role, there'd be no ding for the acting at all, even though it's still a net positive. Additionally, Ruth Buzzi is hilarious as the president of the anti-sex league, and Jose Ferrer's pretty amusing as her ineffectual husband/mayor as well.
Here's who matters and why: Martin Landau (Sleepy Hollow, The X-Files, Ed Wood, The Return of the Six Million Dollar Man and the Bionic Woman, Alone in the Dark 1982, The Return 1980, Without Warning, Meteor, The Fall of the House of Usher, Alien Attack, Journey Through the Black Sun, The Ghost of Sierra de Cobre), Marianne Gordon (Rosemary's Baby, The Legend of Blood Mountain), Jose Ferrer (Dune, Bloodtide, Bloody Birthday, The Swarm, Dracula's Dog, The Sentinel), Dorothy Malone (Rest in Pieces, The Day Time Ended), Murray "the Unknown Comic" Langston (Urban Legends, Breakfast of Aliens, Repossessed), Kinky Friedman (Zombex, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2), Johnny Dark (Breakfast of Aliens, Repossessed, Communion), Kent Perkins (Breeders), Ellen Blake (The Last Starfighter, Terror Out of the Sky), Roxanne Cybelle (Urban Legends, Blood Diner), Jerry Maren (Dahmer vs. Gacy, Frankenstein Rising, House, The Lord of the Rings 1978, Bigfoot 1970, Planet of the Apes), Richard Marcus (Tremors, Cannibal Campout, Deadly Friend, Enemy Mine), Vern Stierman (The Legend of Boggy Creek, The Town that Dreaded Sundown). And, as I mentioned, there's a slew of TV roles that the normies out there may be more familiar with. Martin Landau played Commander John Koenig in Space 1999, and is probably best known as Rollin Hand from the Mission: Impossible series of the late 60s. Marianne Gordon, of course, will be best remembered as Marianne Magnolia from Hee Haw. Dorothy Malone played Constance Mackenzie Carson on Payton Place. Ruth Buzzi did a whole lotta voice acting for cartoon series in the 80s but would be better known for the part of Fi on The Last Saucer and for working 140 episodes on Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In. Ellen Blake had two notable TV roles, one as Elizabeth Brand from L.A. Law, and another as Natalie DeRoy on Hill Street Blues. Additionally, Jerry Maren played Rah-Rah on Lidsville, and Richard Marcus was Mr. Raines on The Pretender. I think the acting, for the most part, is the one redeeming factor even the naysayers can agree upon with regards to The Being. It's also got some truly sparkling dialogue including "oh, that's just part of Michael" and "Mort, I want to go with you. I really care about what happens to you."
The special effects are alright, as long as you keep in mind that the movie was never taking itself too seriously. The monster actually looks pretty decent, if a bit awkward and clumsy in the rare shots where the entire body is shown, but they've got quite a few scenes that feature just an eye, a mouth, or a claw, and these're all above average. The jello in Bill Osco's bed is pretty pitiful, but it's really a minor point. Otherwise, we've got a shredded cat carcass that's pretty repulsive, some severed limbs, and a lotta blood, all of which look good even if there wasn't much reason to kill the cat. Certainly, you'd have to say the special effects are much better than you might expect after reading about the problems I mentioned earlier. The shooting locations I liked, and not just because it's one of the few movies I've ever reviewed that was shot in a couple places I've actually been. I think they did a pretty good job of encapsulating the appearance and feeling of a small town (even though Boise didn't resemble that remark, however Meridian, in 1980, did) in that particular area, perhaps even deliberately poking a bit of fun at the conservative stances on social issues like pornography. The main street shots from a ways back really give the movie an authentic, small town vibe that works for it, and it's mostly these city shots that give it that little something extra, more so than any of the individual locations within the city. You've got a neat little 80s diner, an abandoned rock quarry, a potato plant, and a chemical plant that obviously wasn't really what it was made up to be, though it's not a big deal. So pretty good shooting locations, in my estimation. The soundtrack, I thought, actually fits the overall tone of the movie pretty well; that is to say, manic. There are a few slow country style twangs during the radio DJ's weather updates (these're similar to the "Rockin' Ricky" schtick from Gremlins, though this movie was made 4 years before Gremlins was released), but a lot of the soundtrack has a Friday the 13th type sound to it. Which I feel is effective, considering there's always something goin' on and the monster is at least *present* for a whole lot of the movie, even if it's not always on screen. Although, the music that plays during the closing credits needs to be destroyed and never mentioned again. Overall, this one's a whole lotta fun, despite all its problems and despite what the IMDB says about it. Absolutely worth checking out for fans of low budget monster horror, because as a horror fan, it will not let you down in the areas that *really* matter.