Wow! Finally! Yeeeees! When Blender Master Sam stirred up an “Ancient Future” theme week, I jumped with glee! Finally, a reason to review one of my favorite home video rentals that oft-played on HBO. It was the first movie that my analog cortex correlated to “ancient futures,” aka “future history,” if you will, when Sam published this month’s schedule. Eh, yeah, it has a some post-apoc stank on it from our last week’s “Post-Apoc Week,” but since this has a lot of pre-Matrix tech tomfoolery, we’re reviewing it this week.

As with the Sam Raimi The Evil Dead precursor Equinox (1970), and, in a sci-fi vein, John Carpenter’s Dark Star (1974), Circuitry Man got its start as a UCLA student film by Steven Loy and his brother, Robert. IRS Media, the home video arm of IRS Records, backed the expansion of the project into a feature-length film. The burgeoning cyberpunk effort was successful enough on the retail rental circuit that it inspired one of the earliest direct-to-video sequels (eh, still cool, but not as good), Circuitry Man II, aka Plughead Rewired: Circuitry Man II (1994), in which Vernon Wells, Jim Metzler, and Dennis Christopher return from the first film. Both films are highly recommended as a great, first time doorway into ’80s VHS-era sci-fi (but always one over two, for me). (Remember how Escape from New York always rules over Escape from L.A., and it’s always Phantasm the original over II? Yeah, it’s like that. Sometimes, we don’t want the ball to come back.)

Of course, the major studios put out the likes of the similar cyberpunk-cum-tech noirs Hardware (the very cool debut feature by South African writer-director Richard Stanley) and Total Recall (eh, Dick’s book We Can Remember It for You Wholesale is better) that same year, but neither are quite as distinctive and fun. To that end, and considering Total Recall, there’s a definite Phillip K. Dick-vibe with the Loy brothers against-the-budget post-apoc world forced, by pollution, to live in underground in parking garage-like bunker-environs. Lori (Dana Wheeler-Nicholson), a female body guard, is pressed into service by a drug smuggler for a major microchip deal; when the exchange goes bad, Lori’s on the lam, aided by Danner (a really great Jim Metzler), a pleasure android (read: male prostitute). Together, they’re now “drug smugglers” of virtual reality computer chips, chased from Los Angeles to New York City and aided by a fellow fringe-denizen, Leech (an also great Dennis Christopher). Not only are they pursued by the police, but by gangsters, led by the villainous, VR narcotic-addicted Plughead (an incredible Vernon Wells . . . yes, Wez from post-apoc influencer, The Road Warrior*).

Released five years before Kathryn Bigelow and James Cameron’s not-so-memorable tale of black market VR smuggling with Strange Days (1995), Circuitry Man, as far as direct-to-video movies go at the height of the VHS tape market, is right up there alongside Charles Band’s Trancers in the imagination-against-the-budget sweepstakes. And the Loy brothers were smart to forgo the cheezy, low-budget computer graphics and just sticking to the noirish caper. (Ugh, remember how great Christopher Walken was, but how awful the big screen, dream-VR romp Brainstorm (1980) was for that very reason?) Another plus: the genre switching of the roles, with a woman as the noir-spiraling P.I (if you will) and making her sidekick the male “prostitute” who helps the jammed-up detective. And, as I rewatch Circuitry Man all these years later (on VHS, natch), the Windows 3.1 software is a lot of fun . . . dated, but fun to watch. At least our reluctant protagonists aren’t running around with “mission critical,” ’80s-era Kmart Kraco (or Radio Shack’s Realistic) audio cassette tapes in 1997, à la Snake Plissken. (Truth: As cool as Escape from New York always will be; the cassette tape bit still sucks; so, a major ball drop there, John. Couldn’t you make-up a some faux-techo doo-dad?)

Circuity Man is definitely — in terms of low-budget indie sci-fi’ers that began their life as student film, such as Dark Star and George Lucas’s space opera precursor, THX-1138 — required viewing and worthy of an entry in any sci-fi fan’s home video library. How, and why, Carpenter and Lucas (and Raimi) hit such career highs from such similar beginnings, but the Loy brothers dissipated into the analog snows after Circuitry Man II, is crime against cinema. I, for one, would have loved to have seen what they would have come up with courtesy of a major studio’s backing.

If you search “Circuitry Man” on You Tube, you’ll find many-a-fan favorite clips uploaded. While there’s no streams — freebie or official — online for Circuitry Man II, you can stream the original Circuitry Man at Amazon Prime and Vudu. We found the You Tube trailers (get ’em while they’re still there, if they are . . .) for Part 1 and Part 2.

Be sure to look for our review of the “ancient future” of Brainstorm, this week. And check our interview with Vernon Wells!

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook. He also writes for B&S Movies.

The renegade robot tomfoolery of Micheal Crichton’s Runaway (1984) — he also gave us Looker (1981) — (look for both reviews this week) and Jim Wynorski’s Chopping Mall, aka Killbots (1986), bring us to this “ancient future” ditty oft-run to ad nauseam levels during the earliest days of the Sci-Fi Channel before the double-Ys.

In the director’s chair is Mark Rosman, who made his debut with the Film Ventures International’s slasher The House on Sorority Row (1982). He was replaced on his second directing effort, Mutant (1984), by John “Bud” Cardos. As result of his clashing with FVI’s Edward L. Montoro, who produced, and subsequent firing from that Alien rip, it’s the film we remember Rosman for the most amid his 25 directing credits. (Eh, maybe Mutant is more of a zombie rip, or even hicksploitation-esque; who cares, it stinks in spite of its confusing marketing.)

Yeah, if we bought into the antiquated projections of all of the “ancient future” films we’ve reviewed this week — especially Evolver — all of our homes would be equipped with sentient robot scamps. Well, we are . . . but a table-top Alexa (for those too lazy to type or swipe) or a Roomba (for those too busy to vacuum floor schmutz) just isn’t the same as having a Robert Doornick International Robotics, Inc. SICO robot beep n’ boop us a “Happy Birthday” greeting.

Much like today’s smart phones, texting, and live video streaming fully integrating into modern screenplays, these MS-DOS-intergrated, teen-based movies came at us a fast and furious pace with the likes of the video game and computer nerdom of C.H.O.M.P.S (1979), Weird Science (1986), Short Circuit (1986), and to a lesser extent, Wired to Kill (1986). Not even Sly Stallone was immune, if you remember your Rocky films (IV, if you forgot).

If you revisited the films Prime Risk, Terminal Entry, and Defense Play with our reviews during this “ancient future” week, then you’re up to speed on the tech shenanigans of Evolver: we’re dealing with another bright and unmotivated teenager of the (lower-rent) David Lightman variety. While a whiz at computers, Kyle Baxter (Ethan Randall, aka Embry, “The Bass Player” from That Thing You Do!; Mark from Empire Records), much like Michael Brower from Brainscan (1994; reviewed this week, look for it), he’s evolved from hacking school computers-for-grades or bank ATMs to subsidize his allowance: he’s mastered the realms of online video games and virtual reality.

It’s in that VR-world that Kyle wins — after hacking the game — a national VR-Lazer Tag tournament held by Cybertronix, run by Q, aka John de Lancie. His prize: Evolver, a robotic opponent armed with a compressed air gun, which shoots soft-foam balls, to compete in real-life laser tag games.

True to his name, our little not-Johnny 5 doesn’t so much “short circuit”: he “evolves” across each successive game Kyle and his friends play. Now developed with an obsessive, human-driven competitiveness, Evolver’s changing out his soft-foam ammo for ball bearings and begins shooting out the eyes of and killing the school bully. As with JOSHUA before him, it isn’t just a “game” for Evolver, as his programming is based on S.W.O.R.D — Strategic War-Oriented Robotic Device. Oops. Calling Johnny 5 to set: Evolver is an A.I war machine — only he’s pissed off and not even Ally Sheedy can calm him down. And drivers beware: watch out for the flame thrower upgrade that can toast your vehicle.

As with the ten-years’ similar-earlier Chopping Mall with its souped-up, crazed Atari-meet-NES mini-bots, we could go back and forth on whether Evolver is a sci-fi action flick or tech’d up slasher film. And you may like Evolver. Or you may be on the fence. Or you may outright hate it. Me? I paid to see Evolver in theaters on a “date night” and it’s one of the few times my date (we met in a web-design class, natch) and I mutually agreed on a film critique and made it to the “Applebees phase” of the evening. The “chicks and films” thing worked — at least that time.

The proceedings , while outdated and behind the times in 2021 in the Year of Our Gates, Evolver is certainly better that the pixelated CRT monitors brain farts of Brain Twisters (1991) and Albert Pyun-directed Charles Band’s evil video game bum bomber that’s-not-Tron, known as Arcade (1993; yep, reviewed this week, so look for it). All in all, Mark Rosman gave us a pretty decent theatrical flick to kill a Saturday afternoon, or night, as per your own dating rules and regulations.

Rosman is still behind the keys and the lens with an interesting Beatles “What If” flick, In My Life (2021), starring Janeane Garofalo (in the just reviewed Lava) and Kevin Pollak (Outside Ozona). If you’re into the fairy tale romance of Prince William and Kate Middleton — and aren’t we all — Rosman made William & Kate (2011) for the Hallmark Channel and Sun, Sand & Romance with BSG-reboot star Tricia Helfer (2017) for Lifetime.

You can stream Evolver as a VOD on several platforms, but we found a free online stream on Roku for your personal devices. We also express our gratitude to the individual who, in updating this film’s Wikipedia entry, cited this review as as an reference.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

2001: A Space Odyssey and Silent Running will — always and forever — be two of my favorite science fiction movies. Douglas Trumbull did the mind-blowing special effects on the first and did the same on the second, but also directed it. And he gave us the effects in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. He turned down Star Wars and Star Trek: The Motion Picture. But he made my beloved syndicated Canadian TV series, The Starlost, so all is well.

In between his special effects gigs, Trumbull developed other films in the wake of Silent Running: all ended up in “development hell.” The only one to make it out of the La Brea Celluloid Pits was Brainstorm: a film known more for the controversy of Natalie Wood dying during the course of the film’s production.

At the time of its release, Brainstorm was ballyhooed as a “cinematic event” as result of its planned release as the first film shot in Trumbull’s newly developed Showscan process (the development of the cinematography process is why he backed out of Star Wars and Star Trek) that shot 60 frames-per-second on 70mm film. Sadly, MGM back out on the plan at the last minute; Trumbull shot in the usual 24 frames-per-second on Super Panavision 70 used on other films.

Two years after Wood’s much-publicized death, the film finally opened on September 30, 1983. Even with the publicity as “Natalie Wood’s last movie,” no one went. My family went to the film as our weekly Sunday event; my parents both hated it. Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun Times thumbed it down and gave it a reluctant 2 out of 4 stars.

Produced for $18 million, the film cleared just over $10 million in U.S. box office. Trumbull vowed to never make another Hollywood feature film again, ever. And he hasn’t. In addition to less than a dozen, self-produced shorts, he’s only, just recently, executive produced the 2018 feature-length indie The Man Who Killed Hilter and Then the Bigfoot.

Again, I am a fan of Trumbull. And I love Ken Russell’s somewhat-similar psychological thriller Altered States (1980) dealing with scientists plying themselves with psychoactive drugs and floating in sensory deprivation tanks.

But not this movie.

However, as we dig into this movie’s backstory (online) and the fact that Trumbull “quit” Hollywood as result, we know it’s not his fault. And besides: Trumbull’s influence gave us the likes of Steven and Robert Lovy’s Circuitry Man and Andy Anderson’s Interface — films which I really like, even more so (reviewed as part of this week’s “Ancient Future” theme week). We’d also have to thank Trumbull for the Brat Packer sci-fi’er of cheating-death scientists in Flatliners (meh; Brainstorm is looking better to me now).

Micheal Brace (Christopher Walken) heads a team of computer researchers and engineers that also includes his wife, Karen (Natalie Wood), Louise Fletcher (forever remembered as Nurse Ratchet in 1975’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest), and headed by Cliff Roberston (Peter Parker’s Uncle Ben in Tobey Maguire’s Spider-Man). They’ve invented a “brain-computer interface” that enables the recording of a person’s brain sensations, commit them to tape, then play the tapes back for others to experience. When a team member decides to get cute with the invention — i.e, have sexual intercourse while plugged in — the playback “sensory overloads” another colleague’s brain.

At that point, the financial backers of the project (in steps our character actor favs: Alan Fudge of Are You In the House Alone?, and Donald Hotton of One Dark Night fame) sees the “military applications” to profit.

As you can see by the theatrical one-sheet: Trumbull — with the taglines of “The Door to the Mind is Open” and “. . . The Ultimate Experience” — was promising us an extrasensory ride into the human brain with a 2001: A Space Odyssey twist.

Nope.

What we ended up with was the recording of “memory bubbles” by Louise Fletcher’s Lillian Reynolds’s fatal heart attack (scene clip). You would think a recording of death itself — promising a “journey through hell and the afterlife and into the universe beyond” — would be, well a mind blowing, extrasensory ride. It wasn’t. At only 106 minutes (one hour and 45 minutes), Brainstorm played a lot longer, since it was boring, not the least bit mind blowing, and just a bunch of fizzy bubbles popped by romantic dramas between Walken and Wood’s estranged scientists. “Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite,” denied.

Look, it’s an expertly put together, well-produced effort and the acting is on the green (expect for Louise Fletcher’s overacted death scene; it’s still cringy all these years later; the chain smoking — around all of the electronic equipment — is annoying, for there had to be a better way to set up her heart attack), but the film around all of that is sub-par and it just doesn’t make it to the cup — or skull cap, if you will. (Especially the whole pseudo-comedy set up with the two security guards up against the malfunctioning robotic production line; it looks like it’s dropped in from another movie. What were you thinking, Mr. Trumbull?) So, slag me for not like Brainstorm: I can deal. Just like I can deal with those who “can’t believe” I recommended them 2001: A Space Odyssey and Silent Running.

But, to quote our favorite, existential PhD bouncer, Dr. James Dalton: opinions vary . . . down by the roadhouse or movie theater. You may like it. And, like that other, not so existential wrestler I respect, Shirley Doe: films are funny that way.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook.

It’s time for more high school kids with computer-tech skills!

But thanks to the presence of ubiquitous TV character actor Monte Markham (who lost out on the Steve Austin role in The Six Million Dollar Man; but we’ve enjoyed him in such TV movie and drive-in fare as The Astronaut, Hotline, and Ginger in the Morning) as the lead adult and (experienced) director, this obscure, up-against-the-budget clone is much better than the better known ’80s teen hacker clones Prime Risk and Terminal Entry, both which benefited from incessant pay cable replays not bestowed to Defense Play.

Now, if the film’s “Ancient Future” backwash to teen-tech romps WarGames and The Manhattan Project, and the presence of Monte Markham (as the military dad who heads the top secret shenanigans), doesn’t stir the cockles of your mainframe, this is the movie that answers the question: “Whatever happened to Boof from Teen Wolf?”

This time, instead of the U.S. Air Force firing up the WOPR, they’re firing up a (stock footage) Saturn V (in 1988, no less, although the shuttle program was in full swing) from Vandenberg AFV topped with a top secret (and aren’t they all) satellite. To foil the launch, KGB agents (natch) are out to steal — in a plot that foresees today’s drones — DART, a miniaturized, remote-piloted stealth helicopter under development at a local university. (And there’s LOTS of stock footage and stock sound EFX at “play,” here. You’ll notice what’s what.)

The “David Lightman” for this go-around-the-mainframe is Scott Denton (David Oliver from Night of the Creeps; passed away at 30 in 1992), just another one of those 30-year-old high school students with a knack for computers. He’s the project’s team leader alongside Karen Vandemeer (Susan “Boof” Ursitti, who, before and after this, has smaller support roles in Funland and The Runnin’ Kind) and other older-than-high school age whiz kids on the DART program. When Karen’s dad, the school’s computer professor, is murdered-by-laser from one of the prototype DART copters, Scott and Karen — as is the case with the other ’80s teen-tech hero romps Iron Eagle and Red Dawn, My Science Project and (ugh, another mention of the abysmal) The Manhattan Project — spring into action to find the murderer and thwart those Ruskies from thwarting the satellite launch.

If you’re into the nostalgia of Apple IIs, dot-matrix printers, and dial-up modems running those drone forefathers, then enjoy the show. While this received a limited theatrical release and ended up on VHS, it’s never been — and more than likely never will be — released on DVD. Amazingly, there’s a VHS rip to watch on You Tube. And with Susan Ursitti (sigh goes the heart) starring, how can you not watch? Boof is a PTA soccer mom these days. Wild, right? We should all be so lucky to have a wife like the Boofster.

Caveat Mainframe: Ulli Lommel (Blank Generation, The Boogeyman), never one to not cheap-jack the films of others, has his own WarGames brat with a high-tech mini-copter that came out in 1987 as I.F.O. – Identified Flying Object — that was reissued to video as Defense Play.

Be sure to look for my reviews of Prime Risk and Terminal Entry, this week, as we continue with our week-long tribute to computer flicks of the ’80s that we will wrap up with our “Exploring: The ‘Ancient Future’ of A.I.” feature.

About the Author: You can learn more about the writings of R.D Francis on Facebook. He also writes for B&S About Movies.

No. That’s not a B&S About Movies site bug: there’s two movies with the same title released in the same year jumping on the “Year 2000/Millennium Bug” bugwagon that was going to, well, descend the Earth into global chaos.

The first one, also known as Y2K: The Movie, aka Countdown to Chaos in the overseas theatrical markets, was crafted by the great Dick Lowry, the producer and/or director behind Angel Dusted, In the Line of Duty: The F.B.I Murders, and Miracle Landing (one of the TV movie airline disaster flicks we didn’t get to in our week-long tribute).

The second one is an even dopier — Canadian-made, natch — direct-to-video time waster, which is also known as Terminal Countdown in the overseas theatrical markets. Direct-to-video sausage king Richard Pepin, through his PM Entertainment Group, who ground out the likes of the sci-fi actioner and disaster romps such as Cyber Tracker, T-Force, and Epicenter across his 120-plus credits, made the other one (Steel Frontier and Skyscraper; no, the Anna Nicole one, are two others).

And neither production thought of using the no-brainer title of The Millennium Bug for their oh-so-got-it-wrong “ancient future” hysteria boondoggles.

So “controversial” was the first Y2K, it almost didn’t air on the NBC-TV network on November 21, 1999, as some of the major utility, banking, and trading institutions feared it would cause a “War of the Worlds” type panic, inadvertently caused by Orson Welles’s radio drama broadcast on Oct. 30, 1938.

Well, it did air . . . NBC executives just chuckled at the silliness of it all. People losing their nut because of a TV movie?

Imagine if the A-List disaster flicks Armageddon and Deep Impact had to run with a disclaimer to appease the chicken little and falling skies buffoonery of the energy and banking worlds. Well, this flick, did:

“This program does not suggest or imply that any of these events could actually occur.”

And guess what? The critics hated it and nobody it watched anyway.

The always likable Ken Olin is an MIT-trained systems analyst employed at a nuclear power plant in Seattle. While in Washington D.C. bickering over the Y2K issue, he learns that a Swedish plant — as the clocks turned over to 2000 — suffered a catastrophic meltdown. And like all disaster flicks before and after it, our hero faces an adversity rush to home before his family goes “nuclear” — and not even the presence of the always on-the-spot Joe Morton (Terminator 2) and Ronny Cox (of the aforementioned In the Line of Duty: The F.B.I Murders), can save them . . . or this movie. For there’s no thrills. There’s no action. There’s no nothing. Yeah, we ballyhoo the “Big Three” network TV movies around the B&S About Movies cubicle farm all the time, but not this one. Ugh. When it comes to “ancient future” flicks, this one gets it wrong and is the worst of them all — both in the ancient future and TV movie categories.

As for the second one? The critics hated it and nobody rented it. See for yourself — with this trailer.

The always spot-on Louis Gossett, Jr. (Jaws 3D) is pulling a paycheck, as well as the always welcomed Malcolm McDowell (Moon 44). This time, instead of a nuclear power plant, we have a top-secret (in the deep jungles), long-range missile site — connected to Richard M. Nixon’s administration (!) — that will launch its nuclear stockpile when the clocks clicks over to January 2000. And like all disaster flicks before and after it, our hero (Gossett) needs to stop the launch. Which leaves Mal as the evil general.

Sorry, no there’s no trailer for it, but you can stream Y2K: The Movie from NBC-TV for free on You Tube. You can also stream Y2K: Terminal Countdown on the Russian version of You Tube, OK.ru — which makes it all the more of a sweeter watch, courtesy of the Russian explanation-dubbing over it.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook.

“The computer . . . some people think it’s a high tech toy. But this is no toy!“
— copywriting department gobbledygook

You’re David Mickey Evans: A budding screenwriter that wants to break into the business with two, deeply personal screenplays—Radio Flyer (1990) and The Sandlot (1993)—that enrapture the innocence of your childhood and lifelong love of baseball.

Access denied, kid!

You’re trying to “make your break” during the slasher ‘80s. And this is the movie business—the operative word being business—and La-La Land stands at the foot of Mount Lee to make money, kid. And they’re not here to give people the warm fuzzies about their lost childhood.

So you come to the realization you’ll have to write “for the marketplace,” so you come up with a slasher script for your screenwriting debut, Multiple Listings, that’s bastardized into 1987’s Open House. Then you’re employed as a writer-for-hire on a WarGames (1983) knock-off. . . .

“Give me Risky Business with a computer, kid.”
— Fat cat studio executive

“Kids and computers, kid. Kids and computers. Smart-ass teen hackers and kiddie tech nerds sell tickets,” stogie-belches the studio fat cat as he perches his wing-tipped spats on his ostentatious oak desk. “But give me a My Science Project (1985) or The Manhattan Project (1986), kid; not a shit-storm Prime Risk (1985). And we want it quick, there’s some movie Defense Play (1988) in production and we need to beat ’em to the theaters. And none of that personal childhood crap. You want to relive your baseball dreams, go play a pick-up game in Griffith Park and gander at The Hollywood Sign from afar. And I want action with those smart-ass remarks and no introspective statements about man losing his humanity to technology, either. Now get out of here, kid. I have a ‘nooner’ coming in, I mean, I’m casting a part.”

And the executive cheeses that script with a “design” for the poster of what becomes Terminal Entry (1987): Black-clad terrorist dudes superimposed-running across and attacking an IBM PC, complete with a Tom Cruise Risky Business-inspired smart ass wearing a chef’s hat in the background.

But Terminal Entry worked out reasonably well on cable and home video, so you’re hired to complete uncredited re-writes on a sci-fi clunker, Class of 1999 (1990; sequel to the superior Class of 1984). Again, the end product wasn’t so great, but it did reasonably from a financial, if not critical, standpoint. So now the wing-tipped fat cats are willing to take a look at those two “personal” screenplays—Radio Flyer (1990) and The Sandlot (1993). And you’ve become the toast of Hollywood as one of the highest paid screenwriters of the ‘90s, with sales of over $1 million for each script.

But let’s back to the “Ancient Future” frolic that couldn’t get Tom Cruise as their lead, since he was already off into the wild, blue younger with Top Gun and, luckily, he avoided all the computer crap. And the producers couldn’t come up with a script, so they simply lifted the plot of WarGames hook, line, and CRT monitor.

You remember the plot of WarGames? David Lightman wanted to be the first to play Protovision’s new line of video games, so he attempted to hack into their mainframe . . . and instead hacked into NORAD’s defense computer.

Then you’re up to speed on the (non) story in Terminal Entry.

The gool ol’ U.S.A is under a cyber attack by overseas (Middle Eastern, natch) terrorists trying to access a military satellite. Meanwhile, a group of high school computer nerds want to play a new video game. And they inadvertently hack the terrorist’s stolen password and—instead of the WOPR—they gain access to the defense network satellite. And the kids think they’re “playing the game,” but actually issuing mission directives to the the terrorists to assassinate officials and blow up buildings across the U.S.

What can we tell ya, R2. Times were for tough for Yaphet Kotto (Alien) and Edward Albert (Galaxy of Terror) who must had some laughs at the honeywagon over that career common denominator. Oh, and this makes two Tracy Brooks Swope movies we’ve reviewed at this site: she’s part of our upcoming “Lee Majors Week” with her work in Keaton’s Cop. And speaking of Tracy and our need to see actors in multiple movies: Patrick Labyorteaux from Heathers is in here. Oh, and if you ever wondered what happened to Rob Stone, the eldest son Kevin from the ’80s TV sitcom Mr. Belvedere, he’s here as one of the computer nerds.

And one Patrick and one Rob does not a Tom Cruise make. For this is Terminal Crap, indeed.

You can watch the full movie on You Tube—a full VHS rip complete with opening trailers! Check out the trailer, here.

Be sure to look for my “80s Computer Week” review tributes to Prime Risk and Defense Play, this week. And, we did a whole week of reviews in honor of Lee Majors and his films, so we’re rolling Keaton’s Cop, as well, in the coming weeks.

About the Author: You can read the music and film reviews of R.D Francis on Medium and learn more about his work on Facebook. He also writes for B&S Movies.