By: Mordicai

 

“Hey guys let’s grab a 99 cent can of ghoul makeup and a bunch of veteran television stars and make a piece of shit,” I can hear some clueless studio exec scheming. “But we need a way to dupe the public—let’s call it C.H.U.D II... we don’t have the original costumes you say? We don’t need them – no one will notice.” Forgive me if I overuse the word “shit” in this review. It’s only because the English language is lacking in adjectives adequate enough to describe this scandalous waste of time.

 

Now, C.H.U.D was a fine movie experience. The acting was good, the story engaging, the special effects fun and it boasted a tongue-in-cheek humor that sold it to a nation hungry for a mutant cannibal humanoid classic. I would much rather be writing about that film, but no, I have to review C.H.U.D II. Take everything that worked in the original and replace it with freshly steaming dog crap and you still have a long way to sink before you reach the abysmal tragedy that is C.H.U.D II.: Bud the C.H.U.D.

 

Encino bland.

 

There’s not much of a plot to summarize. The C.H.U.D project is being terminated, but Colonel Masters (Robert Vaughan) wants to keep it alive through one last guinea pig, “Bud.” We discover that C.H.U.D is actually a virus that allows soldiers to fight after death, but sports unfortunate cannibalistic side-effects (and simple pale complexions, luckily for the makeup department.) Meanwhile, some atypical 30-year-old high school kids lose their biology class cadaver (I know) and have to find a new one to replace it. These two are your generic 80’s comedy duo – the “wild” rebellious fellah who’s always getting into trouble and his worrisome, nerdy friend. In a turn of events reminiscent of Encino Man (that’s the level of storytelling we’re talking about here) they thaw out the body and the wackiest of antics ensue. And of course, it’s also Halloween...

 

Bud the C.H.U.D. is basically a going-out-of-business sale zombie who sometimes hungers for “meat,” grunts out feeble attempts at catch phrases and spends his time turning the townsfolk into the acting dead. Now here’s my biggest issue with this film: zombies, to my reckoning, are rather fond of eating people and scattering their remains, but Bud simply shoves his prey off camera, a crunch is heard and they emerge moments later in shitty ghoul makeup. Narry a drop of blood or mutilated body part is seen on his victims. Besides chewing the scenery, what could he possibly be eating? So much is wrong with this film, so cavalier in its logic to begin with, but that fact really gnawed at me.

 

The credits read like a list of war criminals, a rogue’s gallery who really should have known better, but would doubtlessly claim to be acting under orders.  Here’s a list of notable TV actors I’m particularly embarrassed for:

Good one.

 

The bed sheet ghosts and pirate costumes worn by the trick-or-treating kids are more interesting than the slapdash zombie makeup. It’s one of those films where the actor’s faces are painted, but their necks and hands remain curiously flesh-colored. This is typical paint-by-numbers filmmaking – a mindless cash-in sequel riding the name of a previously successful film. All of the obvious 80’s jokes fall with an audible plop as go-to film weirdo Gerrit Graham phones in a Frankenstein performance that is pathetically on the caliber of a local mattress commercial. And don’t even get me started on the VHS cover art which clearly depicts actual C.H.U.Ds, who are the only ones who had enough sense to avoid appearing in this sewage (they are entering a manhole presumably to avoid the casting call.)

 

As good as it gets.

 

At best, this film is a skid row version of Weekend at Bernies, and I strongly suggest that if you make it all the way to the end, you seek professional help (I have a number you can call.) I made the mistake of touching the VHS without gloves and still can’t get the stink off of my fingers – sadly, some flicks deserve to die on VHS. I can think of no reason that you should reach for this 83 min of torture when better movies like House II and Troll II are probably sitting along side it in the “free, take one” bin.

 

The best thing about C.H.U.D II is resting safely with the knowledge, now the wiser, that you never have to see it again; this of course, is polluted by the PTSD you will invariably suffer for years to come for having survived such an arduous experience. Don’t even watch on a triple-dog dare.

 

 

Rating: 1/5 Guns with which to shoot myself

 

 

 

 

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