Sappy, unimaginative comedy fails at humor
By John Payne
Senior Reporter
Looking to ride the coattails of
their mutant turtle cousins, “Spaced
Invaders,” a lovable band of oh-so
cute aliens has landed in theaters just
in time for the summer movie blitz.
Sort of a sci-fi slapstick movie
directed at kids, “Spaced Invaders”
is a dismal little comedy that is not
much fun for children or adults.
Douglas Bahr plays the sheriff of a
small Illinois town that receives an
extraterrestrial visit on Halloween
night. Bahr may be best known for h is
role as ‘4Howie” on T. V. ’s “The Fall
Guy.”
Is there no end to this man’s tal
ent?
While Bahr and his bumbling
deputy try to track down the diminu
tive Martians, the town’s children are
out trick-or-treating, and so, of course,
the aliens fit right in.
What is intended to be humorous
about the little creatures is their lov
able ineptitude. They mistakenly think
that Earth is the planet marked for
invasion by the Martian Fleet, and
this is reinforced when they hear a
rcbroadcast of “War of the Worlds”
on the radio.
And so as the five green little men
roam around town looking for parts to
repair their craft, they soon realize
that they have crash-landed on the
wrong planet.
“Spaced Invaders” is such an
unimaginative movie,it’samazing the
producers thought kids would be en
tertained by it. This is the ’90s, and
Mars is not as far away as it was in
Orson Welles’ radio days.
There are a few good running gags
in “Spaced Invaders,” like the Jack
Nicholson-ish alien pilot who even
sports a Lakers T-shirt, but his cute
one-liners get old pretty quick.
“Spaced Invaders” tries to be an
endearing fantasy the caliber of
“E.T.,’ ’ but it is so sappy and unorig
inal that its all-too-brief entertaining
moments don’t seem like much of a
reward.
Standard car chases, multiple
explosions and other not-so-special
effects fill up most of the movie, as
docs a ludicrous sub-plot involving
an old farmer about to lose his place
to the ruthless town banker. Of course,
everything gets tied up conveniently
when the lost aliens devise a way to
fix their craft, leave Earth and save
the old man s farm.
Audiences will be rooting against
them both by the time the film merci
fully comes to a close.
Space this flick off.
“Spaced Invaders” is playing at
the Edgewood 3, 56th and Highway
2.
John Bruce/Daily Nebraskan
Angkor Wat's release is frighteningly fresh
By Michael Deeds
Senior Editor
Angkor Wat
“Corpus Christi”
Metal Blade
Screw Sub Pop. Screw grunge.
Clean, chunky thrash still is kick
ing around in Texas - this time in the
form of Metal Blade Records’ latest
demonic darling, Angkor Wat.
Unlike garage moshers from Se
attle, this refreshing trio is unashamed
of quality production and displays, it
through indusuial vocals, sampling
and slicing tempo changes that bor
row from bands as different as Minis
try and Mctallica.
But metal is the unchallenged root
of this music, a chaotic tempo-chang
ing march through hard-core purga
tory. Guitarist/vocalist/leadcr Adam
Grossman obviously is the main cra
nium behind Angkor Wat and un
doubtedly is a little odd.
The band’s first release, “When
Obscenity Becomes The Norm . . .
Awake,” dabbled in social commen
tary much in the method of Anthrax
and Mcgadcth. But “Corpus Christi,”
which actually is the band’s home
town, leans more toward psychotic
love affairs and pure soul catharsis.
Grossman’s vocals range from a
sulfuric acid gargle to a processed
cybcrspeak, but rarely arc we treated
to his frank, naked voice -- which
may be a good thing. Grossman took
on the screaming chores for the first
time on this release after parting with
two members, including the vocalist,
since last album.
But the microwaved screeches arc
more than effective and complement
the slicing barrage of muted guitar
and bolting tempo changes. Songs by
Grossman tend to be tunes within
tunes, rhythmic layers that change
quickly in a completely unorthodox
style. In this sense, Angkor Wat makes
media-hyped newcomers Prong look
like Milli Vamlli.
Highlights of “Corpus Christi”
include “Turn of the Screw” and an
almost laughable cover of Heart’s
“Barracuda.” Guest vocalist Mike
Soliz manages to imitate Nancy Wilson
well, hitting only a few flat notes in
the process. But the raging guitar
attack is more than enough to ensure
that Grossman means business - and
it is refreshing business.
Angkor Wat’s lone setback may
be a weakness for ovcrachievcmcnt.
Sampling always is fun lor metal bands;
but opening track “Indestructible:
Innocence 1990,” though not a bad
attempt at industrial noise, is a primi- '
live shot in comparison to any Wax
Trax band. Hearing recorded “Blue
Velvet” lines by Dennis Hopper is
great, but the music itself lacks sub
stance.
Ultimately, Angkor Wat succeeds
in avoiding a label by trying a variety
of hooks, all ued into crunching metal.
• Nothing is really new on “Corpus
Christi,” but what Angkor Wat docs
cumulatively is frighteningly fresh.
This is metal to kill for.
Hanna
Continued from Page 8
for parking planners and meter moni
tors.
POLICE: I must be careful here. I
don’t want any trouble with the Lin
coln police. I must admit, it’s awfully
nice to know that in real emergencies,
armed help is just a phone call and a
few minutes away. I have a great deal
of respect for a person whose job is to
take a bullet for me should it be nec
essary. It’s just unfortunate that these
people who were my friends in ele
mentary school have to spend so much
time bugging me today.
1 remember when I used to wave to
every police officer, and they would
wave back. If I waved to one today,
he or she would think I was being a
smart-ass and give me a ticket. Geez,
folks, get a hobby that doesn’t entail
scowling at me.
ATHLETICS: I probably have
wimped out here. I haven't taken too
many shots at our athletic depart
ment. It’s not that I don’t have a
grudge about all of the attention foot
ball gets around here, but I don’t see
the point in complaining. It’s too big
to stop. Also, many of the athletes are
loo big to stop, should they decide my
puny head needs popping for an unfa
vorable comment in one of my col
umns. Not to worry, though. If they
give me any trouble, I always can call
on my friend’s at the Lincoln Police
Department to protect me.
BIL KEANE: Still not funny.
TREE PROTESTERS: Still mis
guided and self-important. Recycling
efforts of J Burger, however, are
commendable. I’m nothing if not
gracious.
FINANCIAL AID OFFICE: Still
inefficient but improving (yeah, like,
they care what I think).
Now, I dare anybody to say I’m
afraid to take a controversial opinion.
Let’s take a gander into the crystal
ball and sec what I may find to com
plain about next year. ..
RESTRUCTURINGOFHIGHER
EDUCATION: I’ll be the fust to admit
I have absolutely no idea what this is
all about. I’ve read the news stories
and editorials, but I still don’t get it.
My guess is that I’ll figure it out by
next fall and be able to rip on it to
some capacity. Even if I don’t, my
own ignorance on a subject has never
stopped me from forming an opinion
about it, and this should be no excep
tion.
FOUR MORE FOR ORR: Let’s
pause one second while I shudder. I
haven’t taken any good swipes at our
governor this year, but as the fall
election rolls around, I’m sure I’ll
make up some fantasy story that mocks
Kay. Like the time Kay and I were
teamed up on Super Sloppy Double
Dare and just missed the grand prize
when she biffed on the Human Ham
ster Wheel. I’ll never forgive her for
that...
THE 1990s: Once the decade is
about a year old, some definite trends
will surface. Whey they do, I’ll be
there to mercilessly hound them with
my unsalubrious writing style.
THESAURUS: This summer, I
intend to siudy my thesaurus so I can
come up with more words like unsa
lubrious.
Until then, however, I’m going to
vacate my brain. Not a single funny
thought will penetrate my noggin for
at least three months. Then I’ll come
back, funnier than ever, with enough
ideas to fill an entire year’s worth of
Daily Nebraskans.
Sleep easy — I’ll save the tcary
farewell ’til next May.
Hanna is a senior theater major and a Daily
Nebraskan staff reporter and columnist.
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