Tokyo Calling

So there has rightly been plenty of talk about a follow-up film. Whatever the name, surely that should happen. But what has not been discussed is what should be obvious to us all: the Mannequin / Doctor Who crossover. Is there any doubt that the mannequins of Mannequin and Mannequin : On The Move have some sort of relationship with the weeping angels of the Whoverse? Time travel goes a long way to explain how the mannequins have stayed in such excellent shape over centuries. This leaves us with questions that need to be addressed. Among them: Are the mannequins a more primitive form of weeping angel? More advanced? A related, but different species? Are the mannequins good or simply biding their time? Are the weeping angels embittered mannequins who - in their failure to find true love (they are described as being the loneliest beings in the universe) - have turned to feeding off of potential energy but cannot bring themselves to kill? Somebody call a doctor.

A thoughtful episode that carefully, deftly delves into the sensitive world of "Do they or don't they?" By which, I mean, of course, the question of genitalia vis a vis hummequinkind. The good grace with which this issue was approached - neither shoving it in one's face like the worst hairy mole of all mannnequinistory, nor shying away from the koen-like questions of "Where does the butt begin?" and "If I were to, say, bone this mannequin, would it's wooden womb yield to my perverted seed or, rather, be as a rocky place in wherest my seed could find no purchase (a womb tomb, if you will) - was duly noted. And appreciated. All 'round, well covered. With one small problem: Setting aside issues of garbage and the city of brotherly love, it is fact pure and simple that the greatest city in the world cannot smell like piss and/or shit much of the year. Nor can the greatest city be home to so much violence. Nor could the greatest city in the world take for freaking ever to put up a building. Nor would pizza rat be nothing more than a shoulder shrug. Or the subway filling with water be acceptable. Now that we've dispensed with the big apple as "greatest city" (a connection that even now causes me fits of derisive laughter from which I will have to recover before continuing . . . hold for it . . . nearly there . . . oh, I'm set off again . . . deep breath . . . sigh) we can finally turn to the city your subconscious insisted you bring up when the phrase "greatest city" was uttered: Tokyo. Yes, friends, your pal TC is here to help. There are literally millions of Mannequin Three plots, plot points, and idolriffic plot holes available to us in the truly greatest city in the world that cannot be ignored. Dance number you say? TC has you covered. With girls in school uniforms and also with robots and also Hello Kitty? Natch. But can we work in the obvious location - the maid cafes of Akihabara? Lordy, would TC let you down? We got your giant monsters and your Ultramen and the Studio Ghibli museum and karaoke and sushi gags and sumo - did I mention the sumo? - we got your sumo, baby. Anime version? Mmmm hmmm. We got this HDTGM. We got this.

From IMDB: "In a futuristic society, rebels fighting against a fascist state are aided by a group of roller-skating nuns called the Bod Sisters." From Rotten Tomatoes: "This low-budget martial arts fantasy adventure is set in LA after WW III and chronicles the battle between the wheelchair-bound peacenik nun Mother Speed and the wicked Dr. Saticoy. It seems that Mother possesses a special crystal (used in their worship of a big yellow "have a nice day," smiley face). The bad doctor and his skate-boarding goons are desperate to get it. Unfortunately, she is protected by her roller-blading beauties and he must send in a decoy in order to get it. Yes, it is as campy as it sounds. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi" Is there a clip, you ask, of this train wreck? I mean, is there any evidence that the acting is as hilariously horrid as the concept? Of course. Of couse there is... From YouTube: Ah, but you doubt. Does this (let us be charitable and call it) film fall on that fine line betwixt crap and good film on which dwell delight and stupification in equal measure? Consider if you will: healing hot tub though titled Roller Blade, all characters wear roller skates - they carry blades puppets a dog in a nun's habit (could she actually be Nundercover..? - that bitch!) psychic virgin filmed in LA (surely without permission) with some locations still identifiable so now you know what the city will look like after World War III and in the weird rolling samuraiesque land of mutants and love that is sure to come The videotape was passed around my dorm for years. Watched in reverence, wonder, and stupor. After graduation I was passing through LA and came upon Saticoy Street - that's when the shaking started.