It's hard to classify this atrocity. It's not really a fantasy, it's not very dramatic, and it most certainly isn't a family film. However, it is the type of film that's just begging to be torn to shreds on "Mystery Science Theater 3000", and fortunately, the folks at Best Brains turned this dog into Experiment 1003.
Ernest Borgnine reaches the lowest point of his career as the narrator of a soul-scarring television movie he apparently wrote years ago. Now, keep in mind that he's telling this to his young grandson (who's still sharp enough to pick out a couple of plot holes). Apparently, Merlin decided that he wasn't moving enough merchandise in the Dark Ages, so he packed up and moved to 1996, setting up "shop" in an unidentified city. Entertaining a kid who suffers from bouts of slow-motion, Merlin is approached by an uppity reviewer for the local paper who sports a superiority complex and a wife who he hates for not being able to get pregnant (again, this story's being told to a kid). So the guy takes Merlin's magic book of spells and plans to demolish it with a strongly-worded review, but only ends up turning his cat into a ruthless hellbeast, then proceeds to light the animal on fire (again, there's an eight-year-old listening to this story). The guy ages a hundred years, rips off Humphrey Bogart, then turns into a baby, much to his wife's delight. So somehow, he's his own father.
And now for something completely different. One of Merlin's most demonic possessions, a cymbal-clanging toy monkey (I always knew those things were evil) ends up being bought by a family from 1984. The young son, sporting googly-eye glasses and happily singing about the Rock and Roll Martian, is blissfully unaware that every time the monkey clanks its little cymbals (in the hopes that somebody somewhere is playing "The 1812 Overture"), some living thing in the house snuffs it. It starts when the dad notices that all the houseplants are dead (another issue - since when does a man notice a plant in the house?). Then an exploding lightbulb and an unattended pan of motor oil results in the fiery death of the family dog (remember, the little kid's still listening to this). With advice from his homicidal psychic friend, the dad tries everything he can to eradicate the plastic simian, if "everything" involves knocking it into a paper bag with a vacuum cleaner. But no, evil always finds a way, and the monkey keeps making it back to the 1980s. Merlin spends much of his time back in 1996 walking the streets, asking women if they've seen his little monkey.
It amazes me that someone on the production crew watched the final product and said "Hey, that's good, let's release it." If this was intended for the family market, then all parties concerned failed miserably, as the story flips back and forth between mundane and terrifying. But it offers a thousand good chances for being made fun of, and Michael J. Nelson and crew took those chances eagerly. Thank God.
Ernest Borgnine reaches the lowest point of his career as the narrator of a soul-scarring television movie he apparently wrote years ago. Now, keep in mind that he's telling this to his young grandson (who's still sharp enough to pick out a couple of plot holes). Apparently, Merlin decided that he wasn't moving enough merchandise in the Dark Ages, so he packed up and moved to 1996, setting up "shop" in an unidentified city. Entertaining a kid who suffers from bouts of slow-motion, Merlin is approached by an uppity reviewer for the local paper who sports a superiority complex and a wife who he hates for not being able to get pregnant (again, this story's being told to a kid). So the guy takes Merlin's magic book of spells and plans to demolish it with a strongly-worded review, but only ends up turning his cat into a ruthless hellbeast, then proceeds to light the animal on fire (again, there's an eight-year-old listening to this story). The guy ages a hundred years, rips off Humphrey Bogart, then turns into a baby, much to his wife's delight. So somehow, he's his own father.
And now for something completely different. One of Merlin's most demonic possessions, a cymbal-clanging toy monkey (I always knew those things were evil) ends up being bought by a family from 1984. The young son, sporting googly-eye glasses and happily singing about the Rock and Roll Martian, is blissfully unaware that every time the monkey clanks its little cymbals (in the hopes that somebody somewhere is playing "The 1812 Overture"), some living thing in the house snuffs it. It starts when the dad notices that all the houseplants are dead (another issue - since when does a man notice a plant in the house?). Then an exploding lightbulb and an unattended pan of motor oil results in the fiery death of the family dog (remember, the little kid's still listening to this). With advice from his homicidal psychic friend, the dad tries everything he can to eradicate the plastic simian, if "everything" involves knocking it into a paper bag with a vacuum cleaner. But no, evil always finds a way, and the monkey keeps making it back to the 1980s. Merlin spends much of his time back in 1996 walking the streets, asking women if they've seen his little monkey.
It amazes me that someone on the production crew watched the final product and said "Hey, that's good, let's release it." If this was intended for the family market, then all parties concerned failed miserably, as the story flips back and forth between mundane and terrifying. But it offers a thousand good chances for being made fun of, and Michael J. Nelson and crew took those chances eagerly. Thank God.