Yes, my friends, the long wait is over. Your sacred quest is at an end, and you may now die in peace, for that most holy of holies has been unearthed for the betterment of all humanity.

Of what divine relic do I speak? The Grail? The Ark of the Covenant? The golden g-string worn by Salma Hayek in FROM DUSK TIL DAWN? Mere worthless trinkets by comparison. (Except for that last one.) I'm talking about the blessed icon of cinematic grace that is THE DEADLY SPAWN - the finest film ever made about uncircumcised space penises that eat people.

Beloved by monster-movie buffs and gorehounds alike, this micro-budget cult classic graced the voluminous horror section of many a late, lamented Mom & Pop video rental outfit in the Grand Old '80s - packaged in one of those expensive, wasteful but lovely oversized cases that pimply Fango-geeks salivated over with the enthusiasm of an Egyptologist pilfering a Pharaoh's lost tomb. (Yeah, yeah, I know, I was one of them... screw off. At least I got laid now and then.) It also joined FACES OF DEATH, BLOODSUCKING FREAKS, MANIAC and countless other disgusto epics in drunken movie marathons during my pot-and-booze-clouded college years. Well, after countless delays and dashed hopes, Synapse films have finally made good on their promise to deliver the ultimate DVD edition of this now-legendary mini epic.

A brief history: DEADLY SPAWN began as a backyard project conceived by producer Ted Bohus and artist Tim Hildebrandt (who, with brother Greg, designed the best-selling Lord of the Rings calendar and the iconic original STAR WARS poster art), in an effort to pay tribute to the '50s style alien-invasion flicks they loved as kids, while spicing things up with modern exploitation elements for the gore-happy '80s. The end product was fast-paced, highly entertaining and drenched in blood, making it a smash hit on the 42nd Street grindhouse circuit - holding its own against EVIL DEAD, which opened the same week.

Sadly, thanks to a sleazy distributor, the filmmakers did not share in the film's success, and SPAWN eventually slid off into cult obscurity, released soon after on home video as RETURN OF THE ALIENS: THE DEADLY SPAWN (in a half-assed attempt to market itself as an ALIEN pseudo-sequel). Though deserving of more than mere cult status (further cemented by its rep as a "Video Nasty" in the UK), it still managed to hold a fond place in many a fanboy's heart... and thankfully, the most horror-friendly of video media, the DVD, allows SPAWN the opportunity to receive the credit it deserves. Synapse spent far more than the film's original budget (around $25,000) to seek out and restore the original negative, and reunite the film's creative team in time for its 20th anniversary.

For those of you who might have heard about this one but weren't fortunate enough to find a copy, and are tired of me rattling on about obscure classics and making dick jokes (as I often do at parties), here's the plot:

Deep in the woods (well, somebody's backyard, anyway), two hapless campers discover a steaming turd-shaped meteorite just before being torn asunder by the rock's unseen inhabitant. The next morning, at the beginning of a non-stop rainstorm, we're introduced to the kooky occupants of a benign-looking farmhouse (in reality, Tim Hildebrandt's own home), who unknowingly have taken in some uninvited boarders via an open basement window. Mom and Pop... well, at the risk of spoiling the fun for the uninitiated, let's say we only have about ten minutes to get to know them - just enough time for Mom's nude scene (no, unfortunately that's not a misprint) - before being completely dismembered. Their adolescent son Charles (played by Hildebrandt's adolescent son Charles - go figure) is defined early on as a dedicated horror movie-watching, latex mask-making prankster (exactly the kind of boy who saves the day in countless monster movies of yore, so expect the payoff later). His antics are gently tolerated by his nutty Aunt Millie and his therapist uncle Herb, who are in town for a visit. His even geekier older brother Pete, a romantically challenged Astrophysics major, hopes an upcoming group-study at the house will allow him the opportunity to explore a whole new frontier: the pants of his classmate Ellen. Believing Mom and Pop to be on a fishing trip, each goes about his/her delightfully dorky day. That is, until... (insert "woo-WOOO-oooo" theremin music here... just like they do in the movie! Fuck yeah!)

Before long, the basement has become a den for hundreds of disgusting, toothy tadpoles that grow rapidly when exposed to water (Spielberg totally stole this idea for GREMLINS) and eventually leave the comfort of their nest in search of meaty treats. Since there's only so much alien fodder on hand in our primary location, our industrious filmmakers decide to import more victims - including two more of Pete's classmates and an unfortunate electrician - as well as sending our disgusting little dicks of death down the street to Grandma's house (they seem to have it in for this family) in order to disrupt a vegetarian pot luck dinner. The massacre that follows is almost as hilariously creepy as the musical stylings of John Ashcroft.

People die, the baby aliens get bigger, and a really huge monster barfs up Mom's head at her son's feet; we get a kitchen-sink alien autopsy, a really sloppy love scene, more death, a groovy velour shirt, a totally unexpected decapitation and a pen shaped like a pea-pod; eventually, a triple-cock-head-alien-burger-thing gets bored with the basement and decides to tour the house and eat some folks; a state of emergency is declared; and we see the old Joe Bob Briggs paradigm of "Anyone Can Die At Any Time" employed in a big way. It's all capped off with a cool NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD homage, as well as an insane final shot that will make you think someone slipped LSD into your Diet Rite and changed the channel to "The Muppet Show."

Despite the fact that Synapse missed their announced release date by about two years (the company's apparently been going through a lot of changes lately), they acquitted themselves nicely by rolling out a real whiz-banger of a presentation. They apparently got a hold of the best available negative in existence - which admittedly is not too hot, but when you consider the film was shot in 16mm on a dozen different film stocks over a three-year period (with a Bolex wind-up camera, no less!) this is as close to pristine as it's gonna get. And after all, isn't the fuzzy, grainy feel of 16mm - complete with exposure flares, bad splices and whatnot - just part of the sleazy package? You know I'm right. Color correction, some re-tooled effects (thankfully, no stupid-ass CGI nonsense) and a good remastered mono soundtrack do help make up for the inadequacies of the crappy VHS version that we had to make do with as kids. They even chose to keep the out-of-focus titles! It's a party in a can!

Add to this an ass-load of extras, including two very fun and informative commentaries that include Tim and Charles Hildebrandt, producer Ted Bohus, Director Doug McKeown, co-writer Tim Sullivan (director of the sequel 2001 MANIACS), and FX creator John Dods (who would later go on to design effects for "The X-Files" and "Monsters" TV series and several big-budget films). Both are loaded with more fun facts than you can poke a fanged fuckstick at (learn the mysterious DEADLY SPAWN/Duran Duran connection! Find out how to get massive bloodstains out of a Persian rug!), and reflect the filmmakers' fondness for the project, which comes across in every frame of the film itself. Also featured is a thorough still gallery, a silent outtake reel, the mangled theatrical trailer (taken from a crappy VHS source), a home-video "featurette" featuring some really lame attempts at humor by the effects crew, and a comic-book format slide show (with cheesy techno music) detailing the backstory of the creatures' origin.

For many of you, this may be your first exposure to this adorably demented little whack-job of a movie, but at least you'll be starting off right. Those who have subsisted on a diet of gory homemade trash flicks so prevalent in the digital age might find this one a bit quaint, even tame by today's standards - what with its barely-glimpsed nudity and only one naughty word - but its technical quality, creative resourcefulness and sincere love of the genre practically guarantee a groovy nostalgia trip. So keep watching the sky... and your fly! (You didn't think I'd go out without one more dick joke, did you?)