Killer Klowns from Outer Space
I’m sorry, I forgot to be terrified.
It’s oddly fitting that I followed up Ed Wood’s “Night of the Ghouls” in my “Movie a Week” series with “Killer Klowns from Outer Space.” The film has the same level of manic lunacy as an Ed Wood film, only it’s dark brand of humor is very, very intentional. I don’t think I’ve laughed at clowns this hard when it hasn’t been masking fits of terror. Seriously, folks– clowns are terrifying. Killer Klowns, on the other hand, are freaking hysterical.
The film is the only movie written and directed by the Chiodo Brothers, who are otherwise best known for their puppets and effects work on projects such as “Critters” and “Team America: World Police.” Why is it they haven’t done more over the years? Solely on the basis of this film, they should be on the same plane of satirical importance as Trey Parker and Matt Stone, with whom they made “Team America,” and Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. In fact, why don’t they have their own half hour on Comedy Central, Viacom? Maybe after the proposed “Killer Klowns from Outer Space 3D” they’ll find their rightful place on basic cable.
The story is your typical teen horror premise from the ’50s, only set in the late ’80s, about alien invaders who land on Earth, searching for sustenance. Rather than a giant blob of goo or well-panted eye creatures, however, these invaders fall to Earth in a circus tent, and they preserve their victims in cotton candy cocoons. Cocoons? Yes, cocoons. A couple of lovebirds (Grant Cramer and Suzanne Snyder) follow what they think is a shooting star, and find the circus tent, uncovering the plot. It is then their job to warn the town before people everywhere are eaten by this goofy menace.
Played straight, this movie could have been an artistic travesty on par with “Troll 2,” “The Room,” or Ed Wood’s films. Thankfully, the Chiodos (co-writer/director Stephen, co-writer/producer Charles, and producer Edward) know better, and while the film isn’t quite as gratuitously exploitative as one would hope (seriously guys, would it have hurt to add a little nudity on top of the absurd violence?), it’s ridiculously entertaining, not to mention containing the best soundtrack Danny Elfman never wrote (those honors belong to John Massari, and trust me, that’s meant as a compliment). This is one wild film, and anyone who appreciates the cult pleasures of the likes of “Mystery Science Theater 3000,” “South Park,” and The Muppets would do well to watch for themselves, and just enjoy the madness to come.
