The characters are not, as one VHS sleeve screams, "trapped in a wall of goo", but only in a hilariously silly script under the slapdash direction of one of the actors. The suasions sometimes seem as foggy as the settings and the rubber-suit slime people more believable than the human protagonists.

In TDTWI, a motley gaggle survives The Big One in a flimsy house between lead-ored hills that hold off radiation. Maybe lead (or tin foil) hats were also in order, since everyone speaks so incoherently. (Oh, it's just the script!) And there's a papier-mache monster lurking nearby. In TSC, it's silly circumstances involving a villainous hypnotist and rubber-suited marine monster.

NYC sophisticate Carol Lynley, effete beau in tow, takes heir to a moonshine/bootleg op run by oversexed redneck Gary Lockwood and his preachy pard Royal Dano. Lynley's performance is like a one-take read off badly written cue cards, while Lockwood all but eats the scenery with his caveman antics. Dano was apparently told to act overwrought and did.

What can be said about Ed Wood and a bank account? It's like a monkey with a gun. Even the title of this mind-bogglingly bad flick makes no sense. It's not some smarmy piece about overripe Southern honeys or underage biker chicks, but a yuck-inducing yarn about a killer on the run.

(Teen-Age Strangler) Women are being murdered in the little city of Huntington, WV. But the important action is at a teen hangout, where songs like Yipes, Stripes! are being performed and promoted. Some people are biased toward this flick. I know a few. I live right across the river. (Review on imdb)

The demon weed has already wheedled its way onto campus, and now a teacher-harrassing hepcat makes the scene! The situations are silly and the social message spurious. CRAZY!

It's the farmer's niece this go-'round, 'n' she's a lady, but them bodacious blonde floosies from over the way aint--no siree! A no-account man is stirrin' this witch's brew nigh to boilin', 'n' it's up to a drifter to stop 'im!