Entries Tagged 'oh my god i love Killer Workout' ↓

SHOCKtober Day 31


Well, this is it pal...end of the line! Boy, depending on intonation that can really sound like a threat, huh? Since this is text, I guess you'll have to figure out for yourself how I meant it.

No matter how I meant it, it is true that today marks SHOCKtober's end. By next week it'll be soft and sagging and browning and leaking. You know, like an expired jack-o-lantern. Will anyone scoop it up and toss it by some far away-ish trees, where it can be eaten and enjoyed by some local animals until its remains return to the soil from whence it came? Or will we all pretend we don't see it in the hopes that someone else will do the scooping? What am I even talking about anymore? Who knows, it's been a long month, okay! It's time for what the French might (don't) call le last favorite character... 

RHONDA JOHNSON'S WIG IN KILLER WORKOUT (1987)


According to the legends, Rhonda Johnson was born Valerie Johnson. On the eve of her big modeling break--a Cosmopolitan cover shoot in Paris--she suffered a tanning bed accident that left her upper back, her breasts, and the top and back of her head horribly scarred. But while you couldn't see them, her heart and soul suffered the most scarring! 

Valerie changed her name and opened a business: Rhonda's Workout. But all those beautiful people reminded her or everything she lost (her modeling career, her nipples, her hair) so she started killing them. It's a terrible business plan.

This is all revealed late in the movie, when we get a glimpse of her wigless and then bewigged:



And I love that the wig is so bad!


Like it was clearly the best they could do with the budget and that's great. But I can't get enough of the idea that we're supposed to think she's been wearing that nest on her head through the whole movie! Until that reveal, her hair looks like it does here, in a scene where she does the two things she does best (business and being mad at someone):



Rhonda Johnson and her wig are the perhaps the greatest movie duo of all time. Why weren't they given a whole franchise? They could travel the world, starting beauty/fitness-related small businesses (though to be honest I'd be happy with her starting any kind of small business, so long as it triggers her murder rage) and then killing off their customers and any nosy cops. Yes, it would just be Killer Workout over and over with a new skin, but I don't see how that's a problem. I'm a ride-or-die for these two queens!

And so, here we are at the end of another SHOCKtober. Until next time...like scar tissue through the hourglass, so are the wigs of our lives. 

Or something. I don't know, it's been a long month!

“Relax…I’m not some kind of crazy killer.”

Can you guys believe that Killer Workout has been on DVD and Blu-ray for longer than one minute and I have not upgraded from my VHS copy? Can you also believe that I've talked about it so much but have never properly reviewed it? What is even wrong with me?

This question slapped me right in my face earlier today when Jason, having been recently touched by the film for the very first time, inducted Killer Workout into his long-running "Thursday's Ways Not To Die" series at My New Plaid Pants.

His post got me thinkin' about it, dang it. I need to slap on a leotard ("No, you don't!" -- everyone) and make the jump to modern disc-based technology so I can post some screencaps and gifs and finally, finally do a Killer Workout masterpost.

I am glad, however, that Jason giffed this moment, for it's one of my favorite moments in the film. Just another gal caught playin' with a jockstrap!


Oh my God, I love Killer Workout.

“Relax…I’m not some kind of crazy killer.”

Can you guys believe that Killer Workout has been on DVD and Blu-ray for longer than one minute and I have not upgraded from my VHS copy? Can you also believe that I've talked about it so much but have never properly reviewed it? What is even wrong with me?

This question slapped me right in my face earlier today when Jason, having been recently touched by the film for the very first time, inducted Killer Workout into his long-running "Thursday's Ways Not To Die" series at My New Plaid Pants.

His post got me thinkin' about it, dang it. I need to slap on a leotard ("No, you don't!" -- everyone) and make the jump to modern disc-based technology so I can post some screencaps and gifs and finally, finally do a Killer Workout masterpost.

I am glad, however, that Jason giffed this moment, for it's one of my favorite moments in the film. Just another gal caught playin' with a jockstrap!


Oh my God, I love Killer Workout.

early bird

AMC ran my column early this week because it's a wee interview with Aaron Paul, the dude who stars on the AMC series Breaking Bad who's not the dad from Malcolm in the Middle. He also stars in the remake of The Last House on the Left, which opens this week. Now your Tuesday is like your Wednesday, which I know is going to throw you off-track. For this I apologize, but remember- what doesn't kill you generally makes you want to kill someone else.

In related news: who's going to see Last House?


In other related news, posting is going to be light this week because...well, because I'm busy. Maybe even biz-zay. But what's taking me away from movie watching and the such is actually stuff that I can share with you down the road, so it'll all work out in the end. You know that I do everything for you...but I won't do that! Or something.

In other other related news, I'm glad to see that the results of my Wendy Torrance poll are currently in her favor. It's good to see her get some love!


In other other other related news, Toosday Toons is up. Dare you step inside...The Last House on the Right?

In other other other other related news, here's a scene from Bug. I know you gaze lovingly at that little photo in my sidebar where the woman's hair is on fire...now you can watch the movie magic happen right before your very eyes!



If there's one day I don't want my hair to catch on fire, it's my birthday. Yes, that's the set from The Brady Bunch. I'd also like to point out that she decides to make "chicken mousse", which contains "jellied chicken". I'm sure there's something out there that's more repulsive than jellied chicken and chicken mousse, but whatever it is I'd rather not know about it. Let's distract ourselves from such grossness by re-reading my review of Bug. Sweet relief!

eh, just do it yourself.

I wrote up a bit of an ode to the back yard filmmakers of the world over at AMC this week. Go read it. Or don't, see if I care. You just think you're so big, don't you?

I finally caught the finale of VH1's Scream Queens last night and...ridiculousness aside, I think it was the first time in the history of ever that my favorite contestant from the beginning actually won a reality competition.

And yet, I still feel empty inside.

And I still won't go see Saw VI.

What I will see, however, is My Bloody Valentine 3D, which opens on January 16th. The commercials are starting to air and dammit, I'm excited. The Harry Warden costume looks great and just as scary as the original, and I find myself not caring a whit- NOT A WHIT I SAY- that it's a remake. Perhaps that's owed to the fact that the words "three" and "dee" are tacked on to the title- as we all know, I fucking love 3D. So much so that I would probably go see The Runaway Bride if it were re-released in 3D. So much so that I would probably go see some romantic comedy/frat comedy/heartwarming Christmas movie with an all-star cast that features Paul Reiser, Julia Roberts, Charlie Sheen, Cameron Diaz (I just don't get her), Jack Black (I just don't get him), and the Welch's Grape Juice Children if it were in 3D...and that's saying A LOT because for some reason those Grape Juice commercials really angry up my blood, especially this one.

But today is not a day for angried-up blood! Let's all GET PUMPED to the strains of "Rock n' Rock" from the little1986 masterpiece called Killer Workout. So much rock, they don't have time to roll! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go make out with my KW videocassette.