Children's author Dorothy Gale makes a decent living continuing her grandfather's series of Oz books. When a new agent enters the scene, Dorothy moves to New York city. In the midst of a ... See full summary »
A fat lazy Panda named Zibo dreams of becoming a master of martial arts, but is stuck as a mere cleaner for a dojo. Little does he know that an evil tiger has plans to take over the kingdom, and he must stop him.
In this extraordinarily faithful stage version of the second Oz book, the only major deletions were things unperformable on stage (The Jackdaw's nest and the Gryphon/Sawhorse chase) and an ... See full summary »
A storybook opens to depict little Dorothy on the grey Kansas prairies, when suddenly a cyclone comes up, turns her world to color, and she lands on a Scarecrow, who promptly gets up and ... See full summary »
After his witch guardian Mombi threatens to turn him into a statue, young Tip decides to run off to Emerald City with his newly-animated companion, Jack. Along the way, he meets up with Genral Jinjur, leader of the Army of Revolt, who takes Tip prisoner as she marches her troops to take over the Emerald City. Tip escapes to warn the scarecrow, now the ruler of the city, and together they leave to find the Tin Woodsman and form their own army. Written by
Jean-Marc Rocher <email@example.com>
Viewing this film left me utterly dumbfounded. I was truly shocked that anybody, at any strata of the movie business, could have produced it and managed to have it released. The plot is described hilariously in meticulous detail in the "External Reviews" section here, so I won't recount it all. Suffice it to say that I've never seen so brazen a display of non-talented "talent" as that on display in this alleged entertainment. It was a joy! Definitely bad in the good way, if you're inclined to watch cinematic dreck for its camp appeal.
The juvenile hero of the piece was Channy Mahon, the son of its producer/director, Barry Mahon. On hearing his first line delivery, my jaw dropped in disbelief. Imagine the sort of monotonous, comatose recitation any average schoolchild will deliver when forced to read aloud in class. Now administer half a bottle of Nyquil to that same child, wait an hour, demand another reading, and you'll get some idea of what young Channy Mahon's line delivery was like. Priceless. He did look cute in that Eddie Munster outfit, though.
The adult cast ranged from merely competent to embarrassingly awful. The sets were apparently made of painted cardboard and plywood. The costumes were, on the whole, surprisingly decent. The songs oh the songs! You'll want to travel back in time, in "Back to the Future" fashion, just to prevent their conception and Channy's as well (sorry Channy, I know it wasn't really your fault).
This is an epicurean treat for afficionados of bad cinema. To those looking for actual entertainment in the conventional sense, steer well clear!
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