Smart move, Tempe! Instead of releasing their old, unbelievably awful movies on DVD for sheer kitsch value, they've repackaged them as the Bad Movie Police series. A sort of cross between MST3K and Dragnet, the Bad Movie Police do exactly what you would think: stop bad filmmakers before they "pinch off a load of cinematic stool." Adding a sly wink to the already guffaw-inducing feature was a stroke of genius, and makes a crappy movie a little easier to digest.

The Bad Movie Police is an entire group of police officers, but there are only two really worth mentioning: Sgt. Elke Mantooth (Ariauna Albright and her cleavage), and Lt. Drucilla Dread (Lilith Stabs and her cleavage as well). We're introduced to the squad during a raid on the set of a bad (and very homoerotically charged) movie, directed by a tubby man in a Cher shirt. The plot is ridiculous, and the whole affair is very tongue-in-cheek, even presenting director Lance Randas (the pseudonym for J.R. Bookwalter) as a shadowy, Unabomber style "cine-terrorist." The two lovely ladies break down the top ten cinematic sins Galaxy Of The Dinosaurs has committed, which makes the following movie almost like a game: trying to find those horrid bits they mentioned in the film, and softening the blow that such crappiness will normally induce.

So Galaxy Of The Dinosaurs is off and running. We're introduced to a motley group of space aliens (who look like humans from 1992) on a research mission to planet Earth. There's an accident on the ship, and they're forced to teleport to the planet Gurgon. Unfortunately, the planet (which looks just like a forest in Ohio...and a desert...SIMULTANEOUSLY!) is loaded with dinosaurs hungry for some people meat! This awesome effect is conveyed by mixing together modern SVHS footage with stock footage from 1978's Planet of the Dinosaurs, with positively painful results. Throw in a ridiculous mushroom trip, a "caveman" in a dress shirt and khakis, bad slapstick humor, James L. Edwards in a sauna suit, and an ending ripped right off of Planet Of The Apes, and you've got a real stinker.

This is definitely bad movie night fodder, people. There is no physical way to watch this movie without a friend, or alcohol (I have no friends, so a sake screwdriver was my copilot) or something else (just say no, kids!). It's bad. Real bad. But it's like a train wreck: you can't stop watching the damn thing. Despite the horrendous acting, terrible props, continuity holes that would swallow Anna Nicole Smith, it's just entertaining enough to keep your interest. Given a boost by the Bad Movie Police intro, it's surprisingly easy to sit through the hour or so that it runs. You may be groaning the whole time, but it's possible. Extra bonus points go to Tempe for the self-deprecation it took to present Galaxy in this format. Most companies would either let this one ferment in the vaults, or try to release it with write-ups to make it sound like Citizen friggin' Kane. Tempe takes a few (well deserved) shots to the body and re-released it with their tongues firmly in cheek (right down to the warning when you first pop the disc in...cute) and no apologies for what they've done. Bravo.

Presentation is pretty damn good, considering. The full-frame picture is really quite good, with nice color saturation, and no artifacting or damage to be found. Seeing as how this is Super VHS-shot, I was very impressed. Sound is crystal clear, nice and bright, with no hiss or distortion ANYWHERE. Definite care went into the presentation, and it shows. Extras are plentiful, with a great commentary track (required listening, trust me), several featurettes (I love star James Black's anecdote about showing Galaxy to a date, and the date leaving halfway through) still galleries, and an original trailer.

Again, I can't applaud Tempe enough for starting up this series. Being value-priced at a miserly 7.99, you get your money's worth and then some. If you're not into bad movies, this won't change your mind. However, for those of us that love 'em crappy, Bad Movie Police is a blessing and a half.