Schlock Du Jour: Trashcans of Terror (1985)

directed by Chuck Handy
runtime: 72 mins

Deep within the annals of YouTube, there is a particular catacomb that when properly navigated grants access to a SOV sci-fi/horror flick that breathes like a sleeping dragon. Its scales of recycled footage and claws of bad tracking primed to unleash a blaze of rambling voiceovers, pulled punches, and regional wit. That dragon is Trashcans of Terror.

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A chance meeting between our hero, a man named “Spider” (director Handy), and a disoriented powerlifter named Kathy, begets romance after some light dad-humor flirtation. When Kathy gets angry she turns silver and becomes stronger than an ox on the juice. This is explained later, kinda.  After a health bar brawl resulting in $37,500 worth of damage (even though said brawl took place in the alleyway), our two heroes run for it. Kathy goes missing and Spider somehow determines that alien trashcans are to blame. It is never explained how he comes to this conclusion. He simply does, and relays this information to us with the same enthusiasm one would use when telling you they had a ham sandwich for lunch. He enlists the help of his military friend, Velasquez, to help find Kathy and fight an army of trashcans.

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An “army” of trashcans.
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Oh shit, I’m surrounded!

Notably missing are any lines about “taking out the trash” or Oscar the Grouch.

At one point Kathy is forced to endure 1000 orgasms per minute, and manages through the power of “Yetz” or “Yutz”, something like that. Think Luke Skywalker learning to use the Force. Okay now think of the complete opposite of that. She also credits being from California for her ability to endure so many “O”s.

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This is the face of Kathy enduring 1000’s of orgasms per minute.

Trashcans of Terror makes many bold moves, such as including multiple takes of the same scene and including the bad takes, but cutting the audio when the actors break character, or when there’s excessive offscreen, or even onscreen direction. Shots are re-used to stretch the length of this schlock salad. Trashcans of Terror also includes an original song about “beating my meat” that’s bound to be a crowdpleaser.

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I bet you’re wondering how I got into this situation.

Before you get too excited, I want to share with you a snippet of voiceover, of which this movie has in spades. Ready your brain for meltdown in 3…2…

“I don’t really know how I got into this mess. I was just walking down the road trying to run away from the past. I guess trying to run away from myself, but some things you just can’t run away from, and, this time, instead of running away from something, I ran into something very unusual. It all started innocently enough, walking along. But I saw a car with the door open, abandoned, sitting out in the middle of nowhere. I was just trudging along, minding my own business, but something made me take a look. I’m not gonna ever regret taking a look at that car, but I’ll always wonder why I was the guy that got there first. Things looked innocent which was kinda suspicious in themselves, a car out in the middle of nowhere, so I decided to poke around a bit. Put down my bag, and, just kinda looked. Somehow it just didn’t make sense, someone leaving their car out on an old dirt road out in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t see anybody, at least not at first.”

ETCETERA.

And if that seems repetitive, there’s a voiceover makeout scene complete with time stamp that lasts for over 3 straight, unblinking minutes.

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Yes, stock up on booze, folks, and enjoy laughing cameramen, orgasm computers, garden hose restraints, the sweet silky tunes of a band credited as “The Fabulous Moondogs,” and a finale that consists of a forest fire that I’m pretty sure they started themselves.

Trashcans of Terror is a stumbled upon gem that glistens like a moonstone on a werewolf’s birthday.

I think I’m a better person for having seen this. Colors seem more vivid now. If you’re anything like me, and you like shot-on-video oddities made by a guy who was given a camcorder for Christmas who really has no business making a movie but saw Attack of the Killer Tomatoes once and figured what the hay, then please, do yourself a favor and watch Trashcans of Terror.  The fate of the Earth may depend on it.

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Stay Slime, and be Rad at all times!

-Rat

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*Hallelujah chorus plays* Elliot “Rat” Ross is the editor of The Basement on a Hill. His passion is writing whacked-out reviews of nutzoid movies, sifting through screeners, and interviewing independent filmmakers and artists. He lives in Omaha, NE, where he works a big boy job instead of writing for a living, but hopefully that will all change one day. He is happy to contribute to Cinemaslice, and asks that you send him presents. Email him for his address.

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