All this dismaying waste of film stock needs is Count Floyd popping up every sixty seconds. Somehow they got Steve Railsback, Susan Anspach, John Vernon, and Joe Flaherty together on a set and couldn't get within five miles, about eight kilometers, of an actual movie. BOY does this thing suck. There isn't one original line, thought, shot, or effect from brainless opening sequence to brainless close. The magical, ethereal Susan Anspach of Five Easy Pieces - boring. Steve Railsback - boring. John Vernon - boring. The big bug - boring. If this is a scary movie, Buttercream Gang is a thuglife documentary.

Seriously - every bad movie contains its own explanation of its badness. Usually it's in the opening credits - "Written, Directed, and Produced by" one guy. Or at the very center of the action is some bimbo so talentless that you know there's one and only one reason this turkey got made. Here, you don't find out till the very last of the credits, where the cooperation of about a dozen subfunctions of the Canadian Government is gratefully acknowledged.

Right now I'm watching MST's take on Beast of Yucca Flats to get the taste out of my mouth. Ghod, what an improvement.
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