Posted by Maggot Man
Released on: 1983

The good Doctor hosted the next installment of V a couple weeks back to a packed house. Well, okay, to YAZS, me, Doc and his psycho mutt, which constitutes ‘packed house' in our universe. This time we saw the tail end of the first miniseries and the start of the next one. The Sanger character busts out of the main V mother ship and we are kinda left with the possibility of the story line continuing as the first miniseries peters out. As the second series picks up, the revolt is on. V patrol craft are being firebombed, posters defaced and factories blown up, though not real well. We are treated to a weapons raid and shoot-em up, and Sanger and company successfully semi-unmask the V uber all Vs on a world wide broadcast. The V guys get their licks in by attacking a rebel/refugee camp and kill one of main rebels' wives by successfully getting a trickle of blood to run down her nose—talk about lame carnage. The V's also musta got a hold of Justin Timberlake's publicist, because they managed to make the world believe it saw not the revelation of their true evil nature but a makeup malfunction. Our rebel cause looks pretty hopeless.

But all is not lost. Even though we learn that in addition to stealing our water, Vs are packaging humans up like Slim Jims (and Slim Marys and Slim Bobs) and shipping ‘em out by the space ship full for V consumption, humans are beginning to lay the ground work for victory. Some Vs, no doubt vegans, are plotting against the human eating Vs and have made contact with the rebels. Even more promising, the Robert Englund V has fallen into the hands of the plucky heroine, who happens to be a doctor or something. She and her rebel cell are doing a Mengele on the guy to see what makes him tick. When our showing ended, well, I frankly don't remember what was gonna happen next ‘cause I was getting bored.

V is rapidly approaching the point where it will become ‘Z' instead and I ain't referring to the ‘60s book surrounding the Greek junta that I never finished in grade school. I be talkin' a whole buncha "z"s, kids. I was reduced to trying to work up a some edgy things to stick in this review and so rather than tax my memory any further, here they are:

Is this some kind of stereotyping with aliens going on here? I mean, I couldn't help but notice that Vs, like all aliens, seem to have gravitated to meatpacking. What's that all about?

And this wasn't the only social commentary. There's a sub plot in which a human teenie bopper in the main resistance cell ended up doin' it lizzie style with some smooth hissin' V and is now ready to drop a frog. Appalled at Robert Englund's scaly back as he gets experimented on, she insisted on terminating the pregnancy with extreme prejudice, thereby kicking off a ten minute debate on the rights and wrongs of abortion that was rendered moot (and thereby beyond the threat of any 1980s proto-moral majority boycott) when the rebels discovered the lizard zygote managed to worm its way into the girl's body so thoroughly that she'd have been turned inside out like YASZ's pockets after his wife gets at his paycheck. Post partum separation is gonna be a bitch, lady.

I'm reading a book on WWI Tommies who were trained to put full clips into targets at 300 yards. I mention this because instead of packing up WWI pensioners as entrées, Vs would have been a lot further ahead if they'd forced the geezers to give them marksmanship lessons. Vs absolutely suck at close combat, couldn't hit a side of a barn if they were in it shooting, and have no targeting capability whatsoever in the only aircraft they own capable of air support. Add all that to the fact that they dress in red uniforms (hint—even the Brits learned to drop red uniforms in combat after a couple centuries) and you understand why we humans seem destined to win.

Rebels have better hygiene than I do, which probably isn't surprising given my nom de keyboard, but it still has me scratching my lice infested head in bemusement. Even the woman who goes about disguised as a bag lady looks neater than your average Wal Mart customer. Finally, I don't remember that the plucky heroine is limping any more. You would think this would tick off the disabled, having lost their sole role model. Not to worry. V itself is so lame, they're covered.

Rating: My rating on the pre-1980s Saturday Morning Cartoon Male Role Model to Aspire To scale (Best equals Race Bannon, worst equals Shaggy), has slipped from Barney Rubble to Reggie Mantle.

Back to the review list


Post Your Comment