If you are aware of the existence of something called “the internet” then you have likely already seen the trailer for MEGA-SHARK VS. GIANT OCTOPUS (above), as it has been infecting email in-boxes faster than SUPER-AIDS at a Paris Hilton train party. However for those of you reading this blog through a space-time wormhole to the 18th century, or if you happen to be my Uncle Rudy who refuses to load Flash on his computer as he suspects Barry Hussein Obama’s NWO operatives will use it to monitor his pipe-bomb-making activities, let me break down for you the recipe to this video’s viral success: Grate up a three-pound block of extra-sharp cheddar, toss in some low-grade visual effects, hock in a loogie of Lorenzo Lamas, add a dash of that chick who sang “Electric Youth” at the mall (the one who wasn’t Tiffany), sprinkle in some ludicrous Z-movie plot points, simmer over an open flame, then toss in two plus-sized aquatic creatures and BADDA-BAM! You’ve achieved the “so bad its good” movie singularity, thusly thrusting your shitty movie’s trailer into the zeitgeist and procuring for yourself the kind of market awareness that Big Six studio execs spend zillions of dollars and countless stimulant-fueled hours scheming up.

Of course even the amalgamation of the above would fail if not for the cheesy elixir’s SECRET ingredient – FUN — and Mega Shark Vs. Giant Octopus seems to be slathered in the viscous white stuff. And yet it is this necessary additive that most big studio “horror” pics sadly lack. Take for example A Haunting in Connecticut, or Sam Raimi’s upcoming Thinner redux, Drag Me To Hell (admittedly I’m judging it by the trailer – see below — but then I’m judging MS vs GO by the trailer too). Bombard me with all the cheap black-cat jolts, Jacob’s Ladder-esque digital effects and creepy Japanese girls with hair over their eyes you want – if it isn’t fun like huffing Kool-Whip then I’d rather pop in my betamax of Evil Dead, thank you very much (ironic, ain’t it, that the director of the low-budget Evil Dead has the exact same name as the Spidey-powered A-Lister Dragging us to Hell? Wouldn’t it be funny if they were related?).

Which brings us back to MS v GO: If the shot of Mega-Shark — gifted with flight AS PREDICTED BY THE PROPHETS — taking a big ol’ chomp o’ jetliner doesn’t bring TEARS OF JOY to your eyes then you are doubtlessly a heartless bastard whose idea of a good time is eating diabetic puppies while raping a unicorn (Hi, Mr. Weinstein!). Or perhaps you merely don’t have tear ducts. Regardless, without the fun factor MS v GO would merely be another turd in The Asylum’s growler-laden war chest – a library comprised mostly of straight-to-video knock-off films such as Transmorphers, Allan Quatermain and the Temple of Skulls, Death Racers, The Da Vinci Treasure and (triple-ironically) Snakes on a Train. See, The Asylum’s (admittedly genius) business model capitalizes on a previously under-exploited demographic: People too dumb to remember the actual titles of movies they want to see. As such, the only quality standard adhered to by The Asylum has been that their movies must in fact be movies – images moving at approximately 24 frames per second for a duration of about 90 minutes – and that’s it. Oh sure, dredge the muck of their catalog and you might unearth the occasional diamond in the rough – such as the gripping performance by thespian Chad Collins in Legion of The Dead* — but nothing that even hints at Ed Wood’s Quixotic heart or Russ Meyer’s deviant soul. These are not earnest, misguided auteurs. These are Hollywood bottom-feeders trying to make a quick buck. So how then did something as ridiculously delicious as MS v GO happen?

Simple: It was an ACCIDENT. It wasn’t contrived to be anything other than made-on-the-cheap shlock with a couple of Celebrity Rehab rejects slapped on the jewel case. Yet somehow, in the process, some fun slipped in there. How is anybody’s guess – though I’d wager my week’s supply of methadone it was via director Jake Perez (just peep the IMDB description for his upcoming film Shotgun Wedding and it’s obvious that this is a man tapped into the same black vein as Wood, Meyer and Corman). Simply put, MS v MO is everything Snakes on a Plane — revisionistically, self-reflexively — tried to be and failed. Because just as I pointed out in 2006, you can’t fake self-oblivious irony. Like the swine flu pandemic that terrorized the globe circa the middle of last week, there’s no predicting it, there’s no stopping it, it just fucking HAPPENS.

* Chad’s a good bloke. Cast him in something.

Compare the unintentionally brilliant trailer above to the one for Sam Raimi’s return to horror below

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