Why is it, when a Hollywood star is shining its brightest, all of their previous flubs, screw-ups, and generally bad early career moves are cleanly swept under the rug away from the public? Sure, Tom Hanks is a good actor, but every time he comes up in discussion or print, his pre-Forrest Gump career is left in the shadows. Suddenly, ridiculous crap like Bachelor Party, Joe Versus The Volcano, and other celluloid monstrosities of the Eighties are struck from the record, leaving smug, jowly critics oozing praise for the aforementioned Forrest Gump, The Road To Perdition, and others. Tom's Bosom Buddies dress is left in the very back of the closet behind the weight he shed for Castaway, hanging right next to his 1982 D&D dork leftovers from Mazes & Monsters.

That’s why I have so much love for Tempe’s Bad Movie Police series. Sure, Tempe’s done some great indie work like the effects-heavy Ozone (review here) or the underrated Bloodletting (review here), but even they have their seedy past. Back in the early 90’s, J.R. Bookwalter was spewing out films like a Catholic housewife spews out babies, and much like aforementioned housewife’s multiple brood, quantity does not equate to quality. Sure, he made a few gems, but for every Dead Next Door there were roughly five Maximum Impacts.

So Mr. Bookwalter and Tempe, showing a remarkable level of humility, have been releasing these "loads of celluloid stool" on DVD with the added bonus of the pseudo-fetish sashay of Ariauna Albright and Lilith Stabs in barely-there cop uniforms. Heading up the Bad Movie Police (a squad loaded with every cop-show stereotype available), their continuing crusades against insidious "cine-terrorists" have provided me with hours of entertainment. Case #1: Galaxy of the Dinosaurs (review here) and Case #2: Chickboxer (review here) were masochistic fun (GotD more so than the nigh-unwatchable Chickboxer), but Case #3: Humanoids From Atlantis, simply takes the cake for a balance between quality of the Bad Movie Police Wrapper and the shotgun blast to the brain that is the "feature."

This time, the BMP must put up with the desperate cries for attention from "notorious bad movie luminary" Jeff Williams, who tries his hardest to be a thorn in their side. Of course, he flubs his attempts all the way from start to finish. Throw in some immature gags about the I.N.S., prison rape, and the Film Actors Guild (and its unfortunate acronym), and you’ve got 14 minutes of good, brainless fun. Unfortunately, once the film rolls, all enjoyment is completely sucked out of life. Why? Because Humanoids From Atlantis is 45 minutes of my life (it’s not even feature length, thank God) that I will never have back to do more enjoyable things, like stab myself in the groin with an old Bic pen dipped in salt and broken glass.

I don’t even want to give it a degree of validity by trying to sum up its less-than-skeletal plot, which involves James L. Edwards as a dorky wannabe director who wants to direct his horror opus but instead is forced to videotape ducks on a pond for a tourist video. During this thrilling shoot (which added completely unnecessary padding to an already too-long movie...did I mention it’s 45 minutes?), they encounter an escaped Humanoid From Atlantis, which looks eerily like an extra from Jesus Christ Superstar performed by Sleestaks. Ironically enough, being shot during the winter in Ohio made sure that the aquatic beast never once set flipper in the water...brilliant. There’s a half-assed attempt at romance involving Edwards’ character and his annoying girlfriend (which doesn’t work because they have all the chemistry of tap water), at a twist ending involving a local marine biologist (who delivers most of her lines in a way more wooden than the paneling in her office), and at comedy...well, there’s absolutely nothing funny about it. It’s bad.

As much as I love the series for showing that Tempe can be humble about the cinematic abortions that they once made, I’m concerned about how genuinely bad the movies are getting. They’re only 3 cases in to what could be long series (Case #s 4 and 5 have been announced), yet the quality of the movies have plummeted to painfully subterranean levels. When does the joke wear out? Sure, they’re meant to be bad, but when do they become too bad?

Picture and audio quality are roughly on par with other releases in the BMP lineup. The BMP intro segments look and sound great, whereas the movies themselves are fairly disappointing SOV muck. Extras are appropriately beefy, including a little mini-documentary (maturely titled "Hemorrhoids From Uranus") trailers, audio commentary for just about everything, and the capstone to this pyramid of pain, Case #3 1/2: The Accident, starring Bill Morrison and his rat-tail/mullet hair. Sexy.

Most certainly not for everyone, the Bad Movie Police are like Wild Turkey. They’re rough, painful, and they burn going down, but you keep going back for more like an idiot. If Tempe can make sure they keep their heads hung and their tongues in cheek, I will still gladly welcome the Bad Movie Police into my home. Even if only for a brisk frisking...Yow!