Reviews

Frankenstein Stalks (2000)

Narrator: “The Deadbeat Drive-In. A place where you’re always welcome — no one will bother you.”

Dr. Wolf Von Frank: “Get that electricity…uh…set up. Get that antenna set up! I’m not getting good reception.”

Carl/Ivan/Dr. Frank’s Assistant: “Yes, master. I will get my chain out! Bleeughuah!”

Frankenstein’s Monster: “I need a friend to talk to.”

Rocksella: “Detective Rock, I saw the Frankenstein monster in the old cemetery! He does exist.”

Detective Rock: “Whyya tryin’ to bother me man? I gotta drink my java, eat my munchies. I gotta watch monsta movies, man! They’re always interrupting me! There’s no Frankenstein’s monster. Oh c’mon man, he’s made up! That’s gibberish, that’s old country superstitions. I gotta go watch monsta movies. My brother’s movies, man. He makes monsta movies!”

Narrator: “Meanwhile, back at the cah-stle. Brrrinng!” (Cue the Rock’s impression of a telephone ring.)

Welcome to the world of Frankenstein Stalks, prolific video auteur David “The Rock” Nelson’s frenzied homage to the very basest aspects of the Frankenstein mythos. I say “basest” because the entire film consists of Nelson running around in the most amazingly bad Frankenstein mask ever conceived, engaging in passive “attacks” with anyone who gets close enough. If it sounds similar to his other two-hour-long videos, you’re completely right. It is. However, the glaring difference with Frankenstein Stalks is that it’s probably the closest thing to a “real” film that The Rock has ever, and will ever, produce. Less off-putting weirdness, more spooky, hilarious simplicity. Mind you, we’re on a “Rock” Nelson scale.

Frankenstein Stalks finds the Rock at his most charming — playing pretty much every role, save for a few celeb cameos, a brief appearance from “ghoul-fiend” Janet, and a few ambivalent victims. The happenings never get too over-the-top (outside of the Monster’s “pit stop,” which means taking a dump in a shack). But the child-like allure for nostalgic monster stuff is there in spades: spooky cemeteries, three-dollar masks, and a secret wish for Halloween all year ‘round. The eating scenes make an appearance of course, but unlike the Pumpkinman tape, they never overshadow the meat of our hero’s plight.

Can you find honest-to-goodness film comfort in watching a guy from Des Plaines, IL, running around in a cheap Frankenstein mask at a local cemetery? I think so. The world could learn a lot from David “The Rock” Nelson.

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