Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988)

A low-budget piece of silliness, this spoofing of “invaders from other worlds” pictures succeeds on its goofy energy, even if the one-joke premise doesn’t always pay off.  The Chiodo brothers pay “homage” to The Blob, War of the Worlds, and a host of other sci-fi actioneers with their wild tale of seven-foot-tall bloodsucking clowns that land in a typical middle-American  town and proceed to wreak havoc on the locals.  Their instruments of destruction are certainly inspired (popcorn ray guns, killer balloon animals, circus tent spaceship), and the white-faced monsters themselves are by turn silly, ominous, and downright scary.  Unfortunately, the cast of teenage “heroes” is made up of bland and blonde types, with only veteran actor John Vernon showing any really comic inspiration.  While the movie feverishly works overtime to keep the laughs rolling, there are only a few real chuckles to be found here.   Still, it’s a novel, well-paced concept, earning the film its dedicated cult following.

Killdozer (1974)

70s TV-movie notable for predating 1977’s The Car in the pantheon of possessed pedal pushers, although in this case it’s not that pesky Satan behind the wheel but a kind of extraterrestrial blue light that endows the titular heavy equipment (upon making contact with a recently unearthed meteorite) with a murderous mean streak.  Clint Walker, as the foreman of a construction crew assigned to create a landing strip on an isolated Pacific island, plays his role with a steel jaw and stone face, ruthlessly pushing his frantic crew (including Neville Brand, Carl Betz, and a pre-Vega$ Robert Urich) to continue their efforts while they are bumped off one by one.  In addition to its snappy title and high (if lowbrow) concept, Gil Melle’s insistent “boo-weer-boo-weer” electronic score sets teeth on edge as the biomechanical behometh starts rockslides, levels campsites, and anticipates its human adversaries’ every move.  The penultimate action set piece, pitting a steam shovel against the demonic ‘dozer, takes the silver medal to Dinosaurus! when it comes to machinery melees, but remains amusing enough.  Fun in a 70s 3rd grader kind of way, especially with Ed MacKillop and Theodore Sturgeon’s cornball dialogue greasing the wheels.

Kingdom, The (aka Riget)  (1994)

Originally filmed for Danish television, here is a true masterwork from polarizing director Lars Von Trier.  Done with mostly handheld camerawork, Von Trier takes us into “The Kingdom,” an enormous hospital where supernatural forces co-exist alongside the professional lunacy of the medical profession.  With fifteen main characters, Von Trier weaves an amazing tapestry of storylines and relationships, ranging from the outlandish (a spiritualist seeking to make contact with the spirit of a young girl) to the perverse (a research-hungry doctor seeking permission to extract a cancerous hematoma from a comatose patient) to the hysterical (a Swedish doctor perpetually at odds with the hospital administrator’s “Up With People” schemes).  Four and a half hours in length, with subtitles and shaky, whirling cinematography, this may seem like a challenge to viewers at first.  Stick with it.  The acting (headlined by the late great Ernst-Hugo Jaregard), screenwriting (Tomas Gislason, Niels Vorsel, and Von Trier), and direction are all absolutely first rate.  All in all, an original and rewarding viewing experience for fans of all genres.

Kiss of the Tarantula (1976)

Poor little Susan’s mother is so mean.  Won’t let her play with spiders, and is plotting to kill Susan’s husband and run away with his brother.  What’s a mortician’s daughter to do?  Maybe…dump a dozen tarantulas into mom’s bedroom?  Huh, no more mean mommy.  Fast forward a few years.  All the other boys and girls make fun of Susan.  Pick on her, terrorize her, kill one of her spider friends.  Time for a little more eight-legged vengeance at the local drive-in.  Huh, no more mean boys and girls.  Susan’s letchy Uncle Walter is now chief of police and investigating the case, but still has an eye for the ladies…even if they happen to be his niece.  All together now:  Ewwwwww.  (Here, spider, spider, spider.)   Not a great film by any stretch of the imagination, but director Chris Munger does manage to come up with a few creepy scenes – especially for arachnophobes – and Suzanna Ling has a lovely combo of sensuality and innocence as she sics the hairy little beggars on her antagonists.  In the spider pic pantheon, it falls somewhere in between the laugh riot of Bill Rebane’s The Giant Spider Invasion and the surprisingly effective Shatner-fest, Kingdom of the Spiders.

Kwaidan  (1964)

Masaki Kobayashi’s anthology of four supernatural tales is extraordinarily beautiful to behold.  Culled from the works of Lafcadio Hearn, each chapter has a feel all its own, and creates its own individual shiver along the spine.  “The Black Hair” tells of a selfish young samurai who abandons his wife to increase his social status by marrying the daughter of a rich lord, only to regret his decision.  “The Woman of the Snow” is a beautiful vampire-like spirit who trades a woodcutter’s life in exchange that he keep her story a secret.  “Oichi the Earless,” the most horrific of the tales, revolves around a blind minstrel boy who is visited by the ghosts of a vanquished samurai army, eternally wishing him to sing the song of their battle; and “In a Cup of Tea,” an old man sees another face reflected in his teacup.  Winner of the Special Jury Prize at Cannes, Kwaidan contains amazing battle scenes, sets, costumes, and acting.  Its only drawback is its healthy length (over two and a half hours), which may test the limits of viewers.  Might be better enjoyed in installments, easy to do considering its episodic nature.