The Food of the Gods (1976)

As much of a sucker as I am for films about giant-sized animals terrorizing human beings, The Food of the Gods is not one I've had the 'pleasure' of experiencing until recently, when the ladyfriend and I were in the mood for something a bit of awful to counteract the seriousness of our daily lives. It's a 70s piece based on a 1904 H.G. Wells novel that, despite its cautionary implications, has never been one of his most famous works, but nonetheless was ahead of its time if you take into account the thousands of environmental backlash science fiction stories and films that have since manifest due to the social conscience and political protest. When I say 'based on', I meant that in the loosest of terms, because it transplants a tiny bit of the tale into modern (70s) times, which is honestly part of why the film's plot falls to pieces in very short order...

GIANT SPOILERS AHEAD

This Food of the Gods is no Godzilla, so instead of mankind's destruction arriving in the form of a massive radioactive lizard due to nuclear testing, it gently bubbles up from the earth like a great bowl of curds 'n' whey, on a not so remote British Columbian island which we are given very little other information about. Directly on the property of a pair of the dumbest elderly folk you might ever see in a film, Mr. and Mrs. Skinner, one of whom has raced off on the local ferry to try and find more information and possibly profit from the discover. For, you see, ingestion of the 'F.O.T.G.' by young animals causes them to grow up to astounding heights, and through the film we see some cheesy transparent wasps (who solidify to a plastic like composition when they're actually on the body of an actor), rooster and chickens (somehow being kept in the Skinners' small barn), grub worms (I think in the original there were earwigs), and of course, the fucking rats, which are truly the stars of this piece, if there are any.

Onto this scene busts a pregnant couple, a trio of football guys (reduced to a 'pair' fairly early on), and a businessman who wants to exploit Mr. Skinner's discovery, not to mention his lovely assistant who is of course to be set up with the lead jock. I recognized a few of the actors, like Marjoe Gortner who was also in the awful sci-fi epic Starcrash as the lead, Ida Lupino as Mrs. Skinner, and Ralph Meeker of The Dirty Dozen and Kiss Me Deadly, but this was hardly a gathering of star power. Of course, being an archaic horror movie, most of the characters act completely irrational through the film, making terrible mistakes and not seeing the obvious 'writing on the wall', that their lives are in fucking danger from fucking giant fucking animals! Seriously, people, one WHIFF of a giant rooster, or a wasp turning my friend into a swollen bag of bruised skin and pus, and I am the hell out of this place, forever. I'll get the army, I'll get the mounties, or whatever those Canadians use to protect themselves. No way in hell am I keeping some in my barn, or leaving my elderly wife behind in a forest full of giant wasps and rats being led by a menacing albino...

And yet, there are many situations throughout this film that could just have been avoided with a little common sense. For example, in one scene, the jocks pull up in their nifty jeep to help out the pregnant couple, whose RV has been left stranded in a ditch on the road; they offer to take them along, but even though the couple has mentioned they saw something strange already, the guy decides the jocks can just pick them up on the way back. Really! He leaves himself and his very pregnant woman right in danger's path, and sure enough, the rats come along eventually (but I'll say no more). The lead football guy Morgan actually attempts to fight off the giant hordes of rats, and succeeds, thanks to his strangely MacGuyver like practicality and knowledge of guns, jury-rigged explosives, electrified fences (he's got a portable generator in the jeep) and how to blow up a dam...which leads me to the stupidest part of The Food of the Gods, its 'climax'...

So throughout the film, the giant rats and other animal effects are achieved through a mix of tricky camera work presenting real film of rats imposed against the actors, and various models (like the Skinner's house in the final showdown, clearly a model/dollhouse tot he point its distracting). During close-ups of biting and killing, they're represented by what look like giant animatronic heads...pretty cool, actually. Once in awhile there is some degree of pathos when they're dragging down a dude and biting him to death, and in truth the rat actors handle this film like champs. Numerous rodents get shot with what seems to be air guns or paint balls of tomato paste or ketchup, and they go hurtling through the air. As lame and obvious as it seems, it's pretty darn fun. These things earned someone a paycheck for good reason. But then, in order to finish the fight, Morgan goes and blows up a damn. Yes, on a small island, which looks to have little other water than a few small ponds, there is suddenly this highland dam which is burst, then flows down and back UPHILL to the Skinners' place to drown the rats (who are not adapted to swim at their current size and weight).

Of course there was no real dam there, and you can faintly see the ocean behind it, so the water of the 'flood' is another special effect, and it all looks so hammy that any shredded suspension of disbelief that remained went right out the window in a fit of blustering laughter. What an inane ending to an inane film! Okay, so that's not 'exactly' the ending, but I won't reveal the predictable 'twist' after Morgan and the other survivors burn the rats bodies and clean up the drowned cottage. Let's just say you can see it coming from a few islands away, and it's been done dozens of times in other, similar ecologically-based films. Granted, for '76 it was more of a novel idea, but it still doesn't really explain where this shit came from to begin with? Hey, yeah, 'Food of the Gods'? Hi, it's Magma. Your neighbor. Yeah, the hot guy. Oil and I have decided that there's really no room for another volatile liquid beneath the earth, so you'll find an eviction notice posted to your stream. Actually, I like to imagine that there was fertility God lying in slumber beneath this island, and he had a wet dream which soaked through to the surface...

At any rate, this is a pretty shitty flick with a few laughs to it, that failed to make much of an impact during its box office haul and swiftly sunk to the level of B-horror. The actors don't try a hell of a lot, and why should they? The rats dominate most of the film, and even the 'sequel' that was released in the late 80s (with only a few story ties to this original). In HD there are a few nice scenes of the woods on the island, but apart from the hammy visuals of the rats and chickens, there aren't many effects of note. The score isn't particularly gripping or memorable, and the 'message' of the film has since been played out to death. It's also not really scary, as in many bad horror films the stupid victims resigned themselves to their deaths, when they should have been running. It's not like they weren't warned...so now I'm warning you, don't bother with this movie, even for free on Netflix, unless you're specifically seeking out something awful to kill time.

Verdict: Fail by the Tail [3/10]

Judas Priest - Sad Wings of Destiny (1976)

Like skilled snipers sharpening in on their marks, it wouldn't take Judas Priest long to fire their fatal bullet. Sad Wings of Destiny might not be a complete digression from the groundwork they had laid with Rocka Rolla, but it's a far more focused record which puts to rest some of the indecision I felt on the debut. Where Rocka Rolla was teeming with the psychedelic rock and heavy blues influences of other British heroes, Priest refined their songwriting here to really strike out on their own, and one could argue that this was the 'birth' of the band we all know and love today, at least in the sense that tracing this point A to any later point B is a smoother course. This is still an admittedly '70s' sound, with some moody, almost tripped out moments strewn through the metallic surges, but I'll be damned if this isn't one of the better records of its type in the whole of the decade that fashion forgot.

The second and last record for the Gull imprint, whom they'd have a few issues with down the road (with the Hero, Hero reprint compilation the band shunned in '81), Sad Wings of Destiny would be heavily responsible for getting Priest signed to CBS, the major label on which they'd explode in the ensuing decade. It's not difficult to reason why, when you hear this thing. For one, the guitars and chorus hooks are far more determined and memorable, on nearly every track. I'm not incredibly enamored of the atmospheric ballad "Dreamer Deceiver", or the Queen-like piano/vocal piece "Epitaph", but just about every other song is gold. The riffs still tug upon the influences of Zeppelin, Cream, Sabbath and Thin Lizzy, but they've fashioned the chord sequences into progressions so powerful in places here that they rival any of their forebears, and there is a distinct increase in the use of 'chugged' guitar lines that flow rather well in the context of the bluesy, wailing leads and the incessant charisma of Rob Halford's piercing timbre.

Though it wasn't my first experience with Priest (that would a Christmas Gift of their first live album Unleashed in the East from '79), this was the first studio album that I ever experienced from the band, probably around 1980-81, and even as a child I remember thinking just how powerful and creative the songs were. "The Ripper" is in particular an ambitious piece for its perfect use of momentum, the vocals and chugging setting up the rhythm section and a wicked sense for melody that felt like you were in some creepy, haunted mansion. Fuck, I wouldn't be surprised if the entire blueprint for the Castlevania games' VGM was based on the one riff in this song, though it also reminds me of Satori from another 70s group, Japan's Sabbath inspired Flower Travellin' Band. There's even some experimentation tucked into this piece, through the trills and wailing noises in the bridge.

Another monstrous number here is the opener "Victim of Changes", a song that likely needs no introduction to anyone who has been following the genre for any decent length of time. Massive, striking and unforgettable bluesy grooves drive the narrative of Halford's multi-pronged assault, and this is one of the points where they get really psychedelic in the bridge, with a simple guitar repeated over smooth, subtle bass and great vocals. "Genocide" has this incredibly, leaden and smoky barroom feel to the guitar lines in the verse, and the chugged guitar lines in "Deceiver" felt nice and relatively complex for their day. "Tyrant" also breaks balls with its heavy as fuck power chords, plunking bass and the nice contrast of the softer 'tyrant' in the chorus with the louder counter-lines. Halford also does a lot of self-harmonizing here (and through the rest of the record), which works astoundingly well, because really, the only thing better than having one Rob is two Robs. (I know what you're thinking, perverts. Stop it.)

Not every song is a hit, but even where Sad Wings... does falter, it's not remotely frustrating or bad. I just felt that "Epitaph" might have been better served elsewhere. Halford sounds great with Glenn Tipton's pianos, as he does with almost anything, but it feels slightly too dramatic, and I like my Priest with the kick ass guitars and cloud piercing harpy vocals. "Dreamer Deceiver" is slightly better because the guy's voice is brilliant, but despite that and the strong bass lines of Ian Hill, I just felt I was waiting for some big, catchy riff that never happened. Another song I often teeter over is the finale "Island of Domination", but thankfully it's got this really interesting structure where the rhythm collapses down in the middle and that one, evil riff sequence around 2:00. You also get a taste for Halford's lower, swaggering 'soul' vocals here which feel to me like the guy could've cut a record for Motown.

Not surprisingly, Priest had a new drummer here (their 5th), Alan Moore, replacing John Hinch, but I didn't notice a major difference in the playing of the two, only that the aggression of the music had been ramped up so it feels more structured and marginally less 'jammy'. As for the production, it's comparable to the debut if slightly more 'aged' when I listen to it today. You can still make out all the nuance, expression and instrumentation as clear as day, but there are a few points where the rhythm guitars feel more muddled than others. Ultimately, though, while this is perhaps not an absolute favorite of mine when rubbed up against certain other gems in the Brits' lexicon (Sin After Sin, Defenders of the Faith, Painkiller and a few others have always seemed somewhat more consistent for me), it's a damn fine record worth anyone's time and money, so any holdouts might want to pony up and revoke their poseur licenses.

Verdict: Epic Win [9.25/10] (you're in for a shock)

http://www.judaspriest.com/