Last night's trashy film entertainment was a film I absolutely loved as a wee nipper (along with the mighty Krull), the utterly demented Maximum Overdrive. Imagine Night of the Living Dead, except set in a truck stop instead of a remote cottage, and replace the zombies (and presumably the social commentary) with murderous sentient lorries, led by an enormous lorry with the face of the Green Goblin!
You can perhaps see why my eight year old self loved it, and why my twenty-six year old trash movie loving self loves it too. It is utter rubbish of course, but how could you not enjoy a film that features Emilio Estevez and a lorry pushing each other around in that bizarre "no hands" way that drunk blokes do just before a fight?
A bit over ten years later, they had another go at filming Stephen King's short story Trucks, this time stripping all the "silliness" out in order to create a more gritty, visceral experience. Which seems to be missing the point, if you ask me.
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