A young boy is growing huge and foul-mouthed due to a growth hormone injection gonewrong. The scientist who injected him (Jackie Burroughs) gets in touch with fellow researcherPaul Coufos, reasoning somehow that he might be able to come up with an antidote. Before hisresearch at the university is complete, however, animal rights activists break into his lab andrelease injected rats. Soon rats the size of wolves are prowling about the campus tunnels,munching on all and sundr….
The original Food of the Gods was released in 1976, and was one of the last of Bert I.Gordon’s exercises in back-projected gigantism (see also The Amazing Colossal Manand The Beginning of the End). Gordon’s movie was terrible, if endearing in its ownawful way, and didn’t exactly set the box office on fire. Unaccountably, thirteen years later camethis uncalled-for sequel-in-name-only. The FX are marginally better (but still often hilariouslybad), but the delicious stench of rotten cheese still wafts powerfully from screen. None of theplot makes sense, the loose ends are legion, and continuity errors abound (keep track of the leadanimal rightist’s hair). But the film seems to have some sense of its own preposterousness, and itisn’t until you see a synchronized swim team devoured mid-performance by giant rats that yourealize you’ve waited to witness such a scene all your life.
Pretty weak stuff, even for 1989. The music, a dashed-off synth riff that would like to echoJohn Carpenter or Goblin, but just sounds bad, is thin, as is the rest of the audio. The dialogueis plagued by sibilance, and there is hardly any surround, even during the climax with hundredsrunning around and screaming. Simultaneously thin and harsh, the sound is very much in keepingthe rest of the production values.
The fullscreen picture has rather pale colours, though this looks like the result of cheapjackfilmmaking, rather than a poor transfer. At least there isn’t any noticeable edge enhancement orgrain. That said, the blacks could be a bit deeper. The picture is reasonably sharp, however.
Trash through and through. And yet, strangely loveable trash, for all that. I’d take this overDown With Love any day of the week.