The LAST thing I want to see, is the emergence of events that lead the Rapture mob to think that their sad little wank fantasies have been validated.
If you want to see some truly execrable pandering to this demographic, then there’s a hilarious film you can watch, namely Holocaust 2000.
Here we have a movie that had a lot of money lavished upon it, and not only to pay the acting fee for the big Hollywood name that was recruited to front it. This was an Italian production, resulting from a director who made rather more money than he should have by producing “pastaloid” versions of various Hollywood horror films such as The Exorcist and The Antichrist. Which should warn you in advance what is going to turn up here.
Basically, this film is a hilarious, and at times, slightly creepy film based upon the idea that the acid-trip hallucinations contained in the Book of Revelations is set to come about, courtesy of the son of a nuclear physicist. The part of the physicist is played by none other than Kirk Douglas (who presumably felt a pressing need to pay some big household bills and consequently signed up to take part in this hokum), and according to the plot, his son (played by Simon Ward) is the Antichrist, who is set to use a nuclear power plant based somewhere in the Middle East to unleash Armageddon. Cue wacky special effects including a computer going haywire as it displays 2√231 all over the monitor screen (purportedly a way of spelling “Jesus” backwards - how original), and various unpleasant deaths being meted out to various people who try to prevent the evil offspring from carrying out his master plan, one involving a Middle Eastern despot being decapitated by a helicopter rotor blade.
Despite the fact that the producers spent a lot of money on this film, it’s a turkey. Why? Because when you look at it, it is manifestly obvious that it was tailor-made to tickle the erogenous zones of every Rapture Retard in existence. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if copies of this were in the VHS tape or DVD collections of every Rapturoid on the planet. What we have here is supernatural fuckwittery on a grand scale rendered in glorious Technicolor, with a plot line that couldn’t have sucked the cock of Rapture fantasies harder if it tried. While not as utterly coprolitic as some of the visual dreck pumped out by actual Rapturoids more recently, plot consistency is somewhere around the level of a collapsed soufflé, and there are several nice inconsistencies to look for by way of alternative entertainment, whilst enduring the spectacle of Douglas picking up a big pay check for providing the Revelations brigade with enough masturbation fodder to last them several dozen lifetimes.
It’s vintage cinematographic Gorgonzola, odoriferous to the last, and frankly I’m amazed that no one else has spotted this blatant attempt to cash in on the willingness of large numbers of gullible supernaturalists to give credence to a tract from mythology that was plainly the result of serious hallucinogen abuse. It’s a mysticism acid trip on film that at times makes you wonder at the sanity of the human race, because any truly sane species would have treated this material as Monty Python fodder. If you pick this up, imagine Eric Idle in place of Kirk Douglas, John Cleese in place of Simon Ward, and enjoy much hilarity from the substitution, which would almost certainly have been far more enjoyable if it had happened for real.
Watch this, and learn more about the Rapture Retards of this world and their warped little fantasies than you ever wanted to know.
EDIT: It turns out that the budget for this film (released in 1977) not only extended to the salaries of Kirk Douglas and Simon Ward, which weren’t cheap, but to adding luminaries of the 1970s such as Anthony Quayle and Virginia McKenna to the cast, and I suspect all four of the big name actors in question are now seriously regretting allowing this to be a part of their CVs.
You know you’re dealing with celluloid Velveeta on an epic scale, for two reasons. First of all, NO nuclear physicist from a western nation who values his life, is going to be involved with ANY project that calls for a nuclear reactor to be constructed on the soil of a Middle Eastern Arab nation. This idea would have been considered ridiculous even in the somewhat freewheeling 1970s, and would probably have led to anyone signing up to this project to become an instant target for the CIA and Mossad. The latter would have sent out assassins to decapitate this project faster than you can say “Mazel Tov”.
In the present post-al-Qaeda and post-ISIL world, any nuclear physicist signing up to such a project would have a life expectancy measured at most in days. He would not be able to use any form of transport, without someone putting said transport in the crosshairs of a guided missile launcher. Either that, or he’d be lined up for the same sort of encounter with an umbrella that saw Georgi Markov snuffed out by the Bulgarian secret police, or a re-enactment of the “more polonium in your tea, vicar?” scenario that took out Alexander Litvinenko.
So that’s once piece of hokum that pushes this film well and truly into the Cheez Whiz realm.
The other centres upon a hilarious plot device, in which the structure of the nuclear reactor includes seven cooling towers with big spheres on the top, which just oh-so-coincidentally looks like the seven headed monster from the more acid trip part of Revelations. If you’ve made it that far, you’ll really wet your pants laughing at how this plot device is treated, and frankly, a tour of this film is actually worth putting up with for that cameo alone.
I suspect Tin-Man in particular will have a field day with this after watching it.
Oh, one final note: the American release of this turd of a movie is more likely to be listed in the catalogue under the title The Chosen, as opposed to the European releases. IMDB will give you some idea of the flavour of this offering here. Enjoy.