Eight Legged Freaks
I get the chills whenever I see David Arquette billed first for a movie.
I get the chills whenever I see David Arquette billed first for a movie. Theaters that show "Eight Legged Freaks" should maybe consider foregoing that little notation in favor of a more inviting phrase like "E-coli Popcorn!" or "Cold, tasty urine!"
Dean Devlin, the dope who made "Independence Day", is the producer on this film, and it just reeks of his stench -- that stench that screams, "I have no interest in reality! I have no idea what dialogue is! I have no idea what story is! I like special effects!"
Here's what Dean Devlin doesn't understand about the whole premise for this film: People are already scared of spiders. The thing that makes spiders scary is that they're small and they can get in your clothes or drop down on you unseen or crawl on your eyelids while you're asleep. Some tiny spiders can even kill you. Now, turn a spider into something the size of a Buick, and it's not really that scary anymore. I can see the damn thing coming. After all, who is more frightening, the old Carnie Wilson or the new Carnie Wilson?
Apparently, this was all Devlin thought was required: big spiders. This film was so bad I've forgotten it already, but I think the way the genius Arquette finally kills them is to lead them all into a mine and then blow the mine up because it's filled with, of all things, methane (or perhaps it's just the stench of Arquette's previous films). Okay, why ALL the spiders follow them into the mine is anybody's guess. Perhaps they knew they were following David Arquette and if they could just get to him and rip his head off, that was one less AT&T commercial they would have to watch or one less reminder that Courtney Cox got married under the influence of roofies.
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