Aerobicide is a Killer Workout

Do you know what the problem is with living here in the future? Although if you’re reading this then you’re peering into the past. We’ll split the difference and call this the present. Do you know the problem with living in this particular present? No Video Shops. Nowhere to rent things that are so straight to video that the tape still has the warm glow of the monstrous machine that gave birth to it. Gone are the days of perusing the walls of seductive artwork that promised so much and delivered so so little. So little. The thing you watched bared little resemblance to the cover and the cover was normally awash with bareness.

Yes, yes, we have streaming services that may contain the treasures of the past. It’s treasure because someone tried to bury it. Normally the director or the star who went on to great stardom. If there’s such a thing as “Stardom” does that mean there’s a “Starsub”? Everything has its counterpart in this universe. We shall ponder that another day. For now, let’s focus on the hunting down of the wonders of the Straight-to-video aged. If you’re lucky you’ll find them nestled away in the deepest darkest part of the interweb where only the public domain productions lay, awaiting the moment someone needs to kick that bucket off their must-see film list before they meet their doom. Should you find it a wee bit harder to track down that elusive flick then you can live in the hope that someone out there in the early days of digital media bound that masterpiece to dvd.

Now being in Scotland, yes I have mentioned that before as it’s the only interesting thing about me. Except to other Scottish people, we’re kind of blase about it with each other. But being here means unless something was relatively major or the local video shop had plenty of space or you were lucky enough to live near a Blockbuster, we kind of missed out on the best of the..erm…shall we say “Drive-In” films. Or did we? It may be that I was just too young to watch those sort of films. Maybe too short to reach them. Anyway, I’m going somewhere with this so stick with me. Where was I going? Yes…hunting down those classics that you missed the first time round because you didn’t know they existed.

You want to watch a film, you can’t find the film, you turn to the interweb and think “This second-hand DVD emporium won’t have it” but they do. And because they do you buy it. And because you buy it you can watch it. And that is what I’m doing tonight. With something that is clearly a Video transfer to DVD going by the occasional blip and sound quality. Still wont stop me.

Tonight’s viewing is…was…and could be again…Aerobi-cide…or Killer Workout or Aerobicide or that film with Darcy the Mail Girl’s Aunty in it. Yeah, there’s a hyphen in the UK title but it’s only implied. What isn’t implied is the 80s, well it was made in the 80s, but from the opening….opening….oh right…they’re going right into it with the nakedness. I’m typing as I watch so there’s is a distinct possibility of spoilers and…could they have made that tanning both any more coffin-like? No…sorry I can’t spoil this for anyone. What I’m viewing here can only be described as excessive 80s hair and…and…and…did this sort of thing actually happen in gyms in the 80s? There’s so much..um..bounciness.

No…I’m sorry but I can’t keep this to myself. The first death by killer was a Psycho-esque shower scene where our unfortunate victim is taken out with a safety pin. A large novelty safety pin. The sort of thing an adult baby would use to keep their nappy up. That is truly a unique choice of weapon for what we can assume is a….oh my gawd it’s fighting to disco music….sorry but this film has some incredibly mesmerising moments and then outbreaks of 80s machoism. The sound quality makes me believe that the boom operator could only concentrate on one person at a time so be prepared to guess what the other person was saying.

I’m not sure if this film is intended to be comedic but the sight of the numerous scenes of bodies being zipped up in body bags is almost farcical. As is the killers choice of nappy pin weaponry. The numerous montages of bouncing bottoms and proof that the sports bra was only still but a dream away for those ladies of perfect proportions take up quite a proportion of their own through the film until we reach a moment of Scooby-Doo silliness with a chase through a construction site.

And so the killer has been revealed, the credits are rolling, the 80s soundtrack is slowly seeping into my brain and they still managed to shoehorn the aerobic montage into the credits because….well just because. I don’t know if I can find the words to sufficiently describe what I just witnessed here. The word “Awesome” is in the dictionary for just such an occasion but nay, we shall not be using that word. This is a moment where such superlatives are so meagre that using them on such a piece of straight to video stupendousness would be an insult. We shall instead offer up the four stars. Because it ticks all the boxes of an 80s slasher flick and because I can and will and have and see there they are.

Watch it….go on…I dare you.

Rating: 4 out of 5.

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