When it comes to TV-on-DVD aficionados, MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 fans seem to have it the best. It usually takes a year or more for a new Simpsons season package to street, and there hasn't been word yet on when the fourth season of The Muppet Show is going to be released. Although season sets of the Minneapolis-based puppet show famous for exploiting exploitation films are impossible, a new MST3k set is always around the corner. In the late fall of 2008, Shout! Factory picked up distribution rights for the four-DVD collections that Rhino used to present and they haven't been stopping ever since, with the 20th Anniversary Collection on November 18, 2008, Volume 14 on February 3, 2009, and VOLUME XV on July 7, 2009. If Shout! keeps this up, Christmastime might actually be a magical day for the MSTie contingent (especially for all the children of the world named Lupita).

The four selections for the fifteenth compendium of episodes hew close to the template used in the previous package: start with an episode from the earliest season that was broadcast on cable, take another Joel Hodgson-fronted experiment from later in the series and wrap things up with two more starring Michael J. Nelson that just happen to come from one particular season. In this case, it's not the tenth season from the Sci-Fi years, which saw the network finally loosening their stance on featuring films that were not exactly sci-fi (The Girl in Gold Boots, Final Justice), but two from the Comedy Central-era sixth season, before the channel switch and the eventual departure of puppeteer, set designer and voice talent Trace Beaulieu from the show.

Volume XIV boasted Mad Monster, which was first broadcast December 12, 1989 and until now had the distinction of being the earliest episode to have been given a digital debut. This new set goes back even further to the week before Mad Monster to bring us episode #102, THE ROBOT VS. THE AZTEC MUMMY, plus the very first Commando Cody short as seen on MST3k, Radar Men from the Moon - Chapter One: Moon Rocket. It's a textbook example of sci-fi chintz, full of flat scenery, thoughtless fight sequences, primitive visual effects, a lack of continuity, outdated social mores, and a bland hero in a jet-pack and a helmet that renders him defenseless against labels like "Trash Can Head" or "Pumpkin Boy." And it's also a serial, which means there's a cliffhanger ending that will be resolved in a profusely lame manner at the start of the next chapter.

The movie proper is the third in a series of Mexican horror films shot over the course of a few months, following The Aztec Mummy and The Curse of the Aztec Mummy. And in the great tradition of The Return of the Boogeyman and Silent Night, Deadly Night Part 2, an endless amount of time is spent recapping events from the previous stories without any momentum or apparent regard for actually adding something new to the franchise.

Don't be tempted by the title brawl between the automaton and the ancient zombie, as it arrives way too late without much of a set-up and follows on the heel of exposition that is convoluted and cloying, with countless tacky fights between archaeologists and mad doctors, failed attempts to retrieve treasure from the sedated mummy's corpse and side tracks into hypnotism all involving the film's lone woman character. This all could've been edited down to make one movie and it would've worked as a story if not forgive the film its technical flaws, but thanks to K. Gordon Murray, THE ROBOT VS. THE AZTEC MUMMY is a snooze and a cheat, and therefore qualifies as bad enough to merit a decent riffing.

The series needed more time to develop, though, as much of the first season was still rife with uncertain characterizations in regards to the robots as well as a more lax supply of jokes. Servo remained a braggart, bless his cherry-red frame ("My shorts are never boring"), and the young J. Elvis Weinstein has a way with a sarcastic one-liner, but both Weinstein and Beaulieu were trying on mechanical accents that were better left disposed of in favor of their natural speaking voices. Joel Hodgson's dry comic abilities would also evolve in time, thus ensuring that a lot of the episodes from the third season onward would become highly essential and consistently hilarious.

That's not to say the color commentary for both Cody and the mummy does not warrant ample moments of biting humor. The Radar Men skit demonstrates early in the series the group's ability to deliver concise one-liners in regards to the bizarre galactic weather patterns ("It sure is sunny in space") and the reaction shots of certain characters ("I'd hate to shoot a butt like that"). The feature presentation peaks early with the Aztec ritual flashback wherein the princess on the chopping block is given a hair tease and a lift a la Dirty Dancing before her execution. The strange hissing sound that surrounds a trio of men wandering in a dark cellar is mistaken for a bathroom break, and Beaulieu's Crow tears into the movie's lethargic narrative thrust ("This is the kind of movie you don't pause when you leave the room").

The host segments involving those pesky skeletal Demon Dogs who flock to the bone-shaped Satellite of Love are charmingly lo-tech, especially the plastic-mouthed lead pooch Enoch, whose speech is accompanied by clacking sounds. The second season, however, improved heavily on these interstitials by finding amusing ways to further lampoon the features outside the theatre. Sidehacking terminology, the Wild Rebels cereal commercial, and the "Creepy Girl" love ballad should be familiar to any self-respecting MSTie.

THE GIRL IN LOVERS LANE comes from earlier in the fifth season (episode #509, first aired 09/18/94), which saw the established unit of writers and performers at peak efficiency. Although it is the melodramatic story of a teenage runaway, his freight-hopping vagabond tutor and the sweet-hearted diner waitress who comes between them, Joel, Servo (now voiced by the boisterous Kevin Murphy) and Crow successfully make fun out of each and every scenario. The awkward relationship between seasoned hobo Bix "Big Stupid" Dugan (Brett Halsey) and his 19-year-old charge, the considerably wealthy Danny Winslow (Lowell Brown), is riffed to the heavens. Bix's reluctant courtship of Carrie "She's So Very" Anders (Joyce Meadows), complicated from time to time by the appearance of Jack Elam as the shifty creep Jesse ("Pervert burger!"), is the impetus for lots of recurring jokes involving Bix's propensity to say "Come on, kid, I'll take you home" as well as nods to Tolkien, Garrison Keillor and even a certain perverted man-satyr.

The first two acts of the movie play out harmlessly, what with Danny conspicuously learning to hustle in pool halls, getting jumped in warehouses and being seduced by a floozy named Sadie, who isn't half as sexy as the blonde stranger Bix walks in on as she's bathing (declares a blushing Crow, "What I wouldn't give to be Mr. Bubble right now!"). The whole Bix and Carrie affair feels like an afterthought because we already have a heated man matrimony driving the plot. But then comes a third act twist that leaves Bix at the mercy of Carrie's alcoholic daddy, and it devolves into a bad imitation of Steinbeck with an ending that, as Joel notices, keeps piling on loads of new characters, particularly a sheriff who has remained deskbound up until that point. When the smoke clears, though, Bix Dugan accidentally becomes a martyr, and it ends on a decidedly downbeat role reversal. All of a sudden, THE GIRL IN LOVERS LANE becomes the Sidehackers of youth-oriented cautionary fables.

Danny's perpetually foolish, danger-courting choices and nagging, stupid questions ought to force Bix Dugan to, as Dr. Clayton Forrester eventually does, get revenge with a railroad spike and a sledgehammer. And it's these dysfunctional moments that bring out some of the best pretend dialogue from the mouths of our wisecracking silhouettes. "What happened to my face, Big Stupid?" snaps one of the bots after Carrie's quirky brunette friend asks a bandaged Danny about his injuries. Or when after the truck ride into the small town of Sherman, Crow takes a turn imitating Danny: "Big, should I have not put my head in the driver's lap? Was that wrong?" Other times, they just tell it like it is: "Did his head just turn into a giant sucker?" (Servo); "You know, their drifting career has stalled" (Joel); "Once again, Bix has saved Danny from a heterosexual experience" (once again, Joel).

The fun carries on throughout the SOL, as Crow tries to win over Joel and Servo with his dead-on impression of Jack Elam, Servo and Crow attempt a reenactment of the pinball machine confrontation scene and the trio attempt to write their own folksy train songs ("What a Pleasant Journey"), with Crow once again taking things in a delightfully dark turn.

Wormhole fu immediately turns to voodoo fu with the introduction of the next experiment, ZOMBIE NIGHTMARE, a rank slab of Canadian bacon that is scary for all the wrong reasons. Metal musician Jon Mikl Thor (Rock & Roll Nightmare) and his nipple-baring muscle shirt star as Tony Washington, a happy-go-lucky beefcake who's adjusted rather well to his father's murder a decade or so ago in the 1950s. Although three decades have passed since little league, the aging process doesn't really kick in until he's undead, at which point he's balding and looking more like a middle-aged stuntman.

Tony is killed in a hit and run by a group of preppy punks one night after a trip to the grocers' store run by the only accent-heavy Italian in the world named Hank Peters. His mother calls on a favor from the Haitian juju priestess whom Tony's father rescued, and she proceeds to reawaken the slab of lifeless man meat so that he may proceed to violate his killers with the aid of his trusty bat. The consensus around the police department is that these mass killings are drug-induced suicides, but junior investigator Frank Dietz trusts his instincts and blows the case wide open despite the orders of his hard-boiled captain, played by an obviously bitter Adam West. As Mike Nelson points out, "He had more expressions when he wore a mask." West takes a lot of abuse in this episode, especially when Crow, Servo and Gypsy compose their fan letters after the end of the movie. In fact, West appreciated it, even going so far as to host the Turkey Day marathon on Nov. 24, 1994 that led up to this episode's belated premiere.

Hawaiian hottie and recent Grammy-winner Tia Carrere does some thankless window-dressing in her first acting gig, but the real revelation in the entire cast is that the brutish young thug with the Farrah Fawcett wig is played by Shawn Levy. Yes, the Yale graduate who would later foist upon us the dreadful likes of Just Married, Cheaper by the Dozen and The Pink Panther plays Jimbo, the pasta-chucking string bean with a knack for raping and pillaging in his hometown of Quebec. Apparently, he had a death scene, but the episode cuts off before the robots as well as us modern viewers can cathartically revel in the wooden Levy's fictional comeuppance.

The mix of tacky synthesizer and metal tunes from the likes of Motorhead, Girlschool and early Pantera overcompensates for static sequences that are stretched to the breakpoint. The acting borders on assault and battery, especially the over-the-top Jamaican bleating of real-life Tina Turner impersonator Manuska (the comedy writers got lucky with that correlation) and the case of one Dean Hagopian as a forensics examiner for whom I'm willing to risk my semi-professional reputation on the notion that he was supposed to be an SCTV parody originally brought to life by Eugene Levy. And the less said about the hot tub scene, the better in order to prepare you for the one scene in this film that will truly give you nightmares. And Jon Mikl Thor has nothing to do with it.

There isn't much to say about the host segments on this particular episode, which feel calculated to take up less time than usual. The main attraction is the movie, which means a lot more focus is on home run hits in regards to the banality and ridiculousness of this hopelessly hokey supernatural revenge fantasy. "Office temps cut loose!" declares Mike at the clientele of the club which the underage burnouts frequent, and Servo lands in a joke at the expense of the disco-friendly anachronism of the setting ("This is America ten years ago or Canada today"). When Molly Mkembe is chosen to watch over the deceased Tony, Servo notes that "this is so much better than the intensive care unit at the hospital." When Jimbo invokes sleeping with his older sister in a pitiful attempt to hit on a Twist & Crème waitress, Crow fires back "So Canada has a South, too." And the theatergoers attempt in vain to heed Girlschool's advice at one point when they sing "Come on, let's go...LET'S GO!" Also noted are some highly funny nods to Tommy Stinson, the Tonton Macoute and Loudon Wainwright III's "Dead Skunk."

Also from season six and still benefiting from the infectious presence of both Trace Beaulieu and "TV's Frank" Conniff, RACKET GIRLS (episode #616, first aired 11/26/94) ups the inept factor by mixing a conventional mob story with protracted scenes of lady wrestling. We're talking about mannish-looking golden girls in satin athletic wear performing scissor holds and twisting each other's arms behind their backs. Occasionally they'll resort to a low tactic like yanking on pigtails. We also get to go behind the scenes at the training gym so that we may see them occasionally wrestle in bras and slips...you know what, screw this synopsis. Do yourself a favor and just imagine Rita Hayworth and Janet Leigh in a catfight so that you may feel the sense of titillation the movie seems to aim for but fails to convey in any way shape or form. I think Beaulieu-as-Crow said it best: "Those of you who have never associated sexuality with your great aunt, here it is!"

Robert Dertano displays a total lack of finesse as a filmmaker that places him in the same league as such season six luminaries as Coleman Francis and Ed Wood (although Wood's films are livelier than this). As a director, he can't coax a single natural or decently manufactured performance from any of his "actresses." As a storyteller, he can't come up with a half-decent framework to support the endless shots in the ring or on the practice mats, and so relies on stock gangster motifs. And I don't believe he can be honestly called an editor in any way, shape or form. Scenes that make no sense or feel gratuitous fade in and out of each other to create a veritable tapestry of incompetence. The nadir would appear to be a Senate hearing involving duplicitous talent scout/underworld gambler/pimp/pusher Scalli which is filmed on the barest of sets, with just a chair, a desk and a wall-size American flag backdrop.

This movie would probably make Joe Bob Briggs cringe. I know I did.

Mike and the bots stick it out with a solid arsenal of off-the-cuff, on-the-nose punches that helps humor win the day over boredom. Poor Peaches Page has to act under her wrestling name as the most vapid, gullible blonde heroine one could ever see. Crow applauds Peaches for her "fresh, natural stupidness that isn't forced or contrived," and even comes to miss her once the violence between Scalli and Mr. Big's goons escalates. Says Servo of the lobotomized melodrama and doughy cheesecake overload: "It's as if Russ Meyer directed Clare Boothe Luce's The Women" (that actually sounds better than Diane English's recent adaptation, especially if Tura Santana takes over for Meg Ryan). Mike gets duly disappointed by the lack of racketeering and, by the time Scalli's diminutive, Benigni-like lackey Joe starts jogging with Peaches during an outdoors fitness session, he duly grumbles "Where's Benny Hill when you need him?"

It's Crow who shines brightest during all of the badly-filmed wrestling bouts, playing on a classic Pedro Almodovar film title ("Women on the verge of a three-point takedown"), calling the film out on its lack of erotic appeal ("My loins will never stir again") and just simply watching on aghast ("Is this the induction film when you go to Hell?"). Taking notes on the various jokes that I thought worked best, a lot of them were delivered by Mr. Beaulieu. That's not to say Kevin Murphy's golden-voiced Servo ("Boy, if ever a movie needed El Santo," "This would turn k.d. Lang hetero," "So the shower is a formal high heel occasion") or Mike Nelson ("I hated it when my mom dressed up like that to do yard work," "Mary McCarthy and Lillian Hellman have it out!") did not rise up to the challenge. But by the time the bird-bot from Alcatraz mimics one of the elderly athletes singing Sheena Easton's "Strut" to herself, I am all ready to award the championship belt to this episode's true comic victor.

The host segments are focused largely around the infamous short which precedes RACKET GIRLS, Are You Ready for Marriage? In yet another Reuben Hill-approved educational spiel, empty-headed lovebirds Larry and Susan rush into marriage but first take the advice of church counselor Mr. Hall, who illustrates their personal roadblocks and potential incompatibilities with the aids of charts ("Suddenly, their marriage has become The Eiger Sanction), dolls ("Bobby Orr's Electric Marriage...real marriage action") and rubber bands ("BOING!"). This is also the episode which features Mrs. Mike Nelson, Bridget Jones, as a babbling, bothersome Lisa Loeb who breaches both the SOL and Deep 13's security systems.

The episodes look and sound better on DVD, with all of the print damage and faded mono mixes from the features given a proper lack of restoration. The main draw with these Shout! Factory sets are in the extras department, as discs one and two include "Scrapbook Scraps" (originally assembled for a VHS release) that focus on the genesis of the program including an extended look at the humble KTMA origins of the program.

At 15:36, the first DVD's "Glimpses of KTMA" compiles many of the best between-film segments from various episodes, including the rare first three episodes of the show. This means we get to see Joel Hodgson, as he refers to himself at the start before he took his Lost in Space seriously, deliver a message to Ronald Reagan backed by an early Crow model and the proto-Servo design that was Beeper. Crow will later recall the origins of Thanksgiving to a very raw Gypsy puppet by describing how the Indians used "mace" to welcome their guests and explaining the big boom in Christmas shopping the day after Turkey Day. Joel and company confront their captors in a room that's markedly free of illusion as well as listen to answering machine messages that offer negative feedback on the comments side. Since you likely won't see the KTMA episodes on DVD for a while (they're even less jokey than the most languid season one episode), these bits are quite fun to behold in one sitting.

"Behind the Scenes" on the second disc provides outtakes from the 1992 This Is MST3k documentary that trace the development and production of the classic Santa Claus Conquers the Martians episode from season three. The writers bounce off ideas involving Penthouse letters and Blade Runner whilst watching the film on TV. We then see "toolmaster" Jef Maynard explain his duties and display the effects involving the toaster pals Joel offers during the opening invention exchange. Finally, we're on the various sets as the exiled trio sing "Patrick Swayze Christmas" and go into the blue-screened theater to film the Shadowrama segments. My only gripe would be that it's too brief, making one wish for the full-length program to turn up on the next package.

Disc three includes the 12-minute "Zombie Nightmare = MST3k Dream," which features interviews with actors Jon Mikl Thor and Frank Dietz alongside a proportionate amount of clips from Episode #604. Thor seems even more self-aware of the mythological might of his name, plugging away his metal projects left and right. Still, they both admit to following the program (Thor says he watches it religiously, although I'm hoping "it" means the show in general and not just his movie) and it's interesting to hear just how much cult status a bad movie on a good comedy show can accrue you, especially if Comedy Central decides to call you up to host a special screening of said episode in San Antonio.

Disc four contains a sneak peak at a film called Hamlet A.D.D., particularly a restaging of the incriminating play-within-a-play "The Mousetrap" as performed by animated robots. Both Kevin Murphy and Trace Beaulieu lend their voices to this scene, their first real appearance together in what would appear to be over a decade, as does Majel Barrett Roddenberry. It's worth the watch for die-hard fans who also enjoy a good oddity when they see one.

Respective trailers for THE ROBOT VS. THE AZTEC MUMMY (sharing a double-bill with The Vampire's Coffin) and RACKET GIRLS (presented under the alternate, Peaches-friendly title "Blonde Pickup") appear on the first and fourth discs. The latter promo looks to have been converted from a flash video because of its heavily pixilated and distortedly filmic presentation. The first disc opens with the usual Shout! Factory trailer park spots and the inside of the package houses four more sheets of colorful mock-posters for the films as inked by Steve Vance and featuring Crow and Servo in various poses.

Movie grade: 4/5 (only the spotty first episode prevents the entire package from attaining an excellent grade).
Video grade: 3.5/5.
Audio grade: 3.5/5.
Extras grade: 3.5/5.
Final grade: 4/5.

More MST3k can be found here:
The Movie
The Essentials
Collection, Vol. 2
Collection, Vol. 5
Collection, Vol. 6
20th Anniversary Collection (pay no mind to that "no reviews yet" tag 'cause it should be there)
Volume XIV

Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Good for Groups
Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older