Spiders (review)

What has happened to America’s cheesy film industry? Where is the pride of our grade-Z filmmakers? Does no one care anymore about making decent bad movies? You might imagine that crap impresario Tibor Takács -- who has such titles as NYC: Tornado Terror, Mega Snake, and, yes, Ice Spiders to his credit -- would know how to make a flick about space spiders genetically engineered by former Soviet eggheads and now out of control in the New York City subway filmed entirely on a Bulgarian backlot with mannequin-like actors mean something. But he can’t even be bothered to ladle on a preposterous theme about the balkanization of mad science in the wake of the breakup of the USSR, or weave in a laughable motif about cultural environmental anxieties over global warming and overpopulated humanity encroaching on the natural world. My God, man, (said the frustrated critic and lover of monster movies to the director), you couldn’t even raise the minor heavyhanded enthusiasm to parallel the fecundity of the Queen Spider and her rampaging babies with the concerns of the divorcing MTA engineer and Department of Health official over their pubescent daughter who’s turning 12 years old on the very day the crashing bit of Soviet space junk brings the arachnids to Earth? And you call yourself a professional?