THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

SLEAZE FEATURE: 'MANSTOPPER‘ (1988)

Ahhhhh, ‘80s “Animals Amok” paperbacks—how I adore thee!

Thing is, almost all involve swarms, flocks, and / or schools... and usually mutations.  Overwhelming numbers are how these critters inflict mayhem.  So how can four regular ol' murder-mutts possibly appeal to this jaded viewer?

I'll tell ya:  novelty and grue!

—

Yeah, yeah--readers have seen the environs (dying rural town--check!), cast (elderly fishermen, crusty newsmen, reluctant lovebirds, bumpkin farmers, weary cops--check!), and set-up before (critters escape confinement and attract Big White Hunter--check!) in every other story of Manstopper's ilk, but the pieces are assembled in atypical fashion.

Cases in point:

) The dogs--dobermans Mr. Dobbs, Cleo, and Razor, and German shepherd Bigfoot--get separated early on, so there's more solo savagery than not.  And like their respective victims, each gets picked off one by one, so there's a weird slasher / reverse-slasher flick vibe underscoring the narrative.

) The vagrant serial killer(!) who unleashes the hounds in the first place never runs afoul of 'em, which simply isn't done.  Where's the comeuppance?!!!  And it dawns on me that trend is seen through the entire work, as all the "most deserving of dog-demolition" bit players survive.  All of 'em.  Not sure I've ever encountered that before.

) There's also no real protagonist.  The Crusading Reporters don't do diddly.  The Fuzz is ineffective.  And the robust, wealthy, dapper, handsome, crafty ammosexual (also a Holocaust survivor!) who ultimately defeats the orneriest, fastest, canniest, ruthless-est, bloodthirstiest beast is also the same who trained it to be the orneriest, fastest, canniest, ruthless-est, bloodthirstiest beast in the first place.  And the dogs, while ostensibly the villains, are only doing what they were made to do.  Never got the feeling I was supposed to root for anybody (beyond some menaced kids, natch) when all was said and done.

Other Interesting-ish Bits:

) The scale of the tale is not only teeny-tiny, but also "The Past Is A Foreign Country"-ful.  Once the dogs are loose, li'l Sea Cove, New Jersey spends four days in panicked, cop-mandated lockdown.  That's news, yo.  But only a two-person journo-crew is dispatched to the scene... and they get immediately eaten, which isn't even noticed for a day or two.  Insane by modern sensibilities.  Even more so?  Nary a single survivor nor bureaucrat comes at Big White Hunter-Breeder with threats of lawsuits; the only outrage arises from a Traumatized Mother slapping BWH-B in vintage TV-movie style.  [As I type this, the setting ultimately feels like a cheapo video game from the dawn of The Console Era where one runs through vacant grids of amorphous brown buildings and gray roadways interrupted by the occasional pixelated car or street sign.  Robust living and breathing world, it ain't.]  The only interesting bit o' setting involves a shuttered-for-the-season midway spookhouse, and the ensuing stalkin' sequence would look snazzy on film.

) There's lotsa Jaws-ness in Razor's chunks of the book, as they're all POV and he only cares about killin' and eatin' and killin' some more.  The comparison goes full-bore, though, when Razor chases the aforementioned newscrew into the sea and slaughters 'em in deep water.  The sequence is so bonkers, I legit thought a shark was going to come in and finish off at least one of the hemhorraging victims... and I was legit sad when none did.

) There's a quasi-surprising bit where Obligatory Hot Assistant-To-BWH-B (who's barely in the book as it is) has a kinda-sorta Final Girl moment.  Didn't see that one coming.

) The stinger denouement is totally predictable (SPOILER:  PUPPIES, Y'ALL), but more "Huh, okay" than horror.

Razor was dead.  But part of him lived on.  What that fact meant for the future--if it meant anything at all--was a matter only time would resolve.

Ambivalence holds sway.

—

But what about dat blood?

Manstopper has some grody sequences infused with punchiness and suspense that generate genuine dread instead of only cheap, exploitative thrills (and I loooooves me some cheap, exploitative thrills).

"The hair, which might have been silver-gray once but was now blood-soaked to a muddy red, hung down in thick, gooey, vertical streaks, dripping like melting icicles."

Thats good stuff.

And, boy howdy, The Radio Station Setpiece™ ranks amongst the gnarliest I've encountered.  Enjoy a slice of pizza delivery gone awry!

"Razor pawed furiously at the widening gap in the Man's gut, till the stomach sac itself ruptured and its contents spilled out..., the half-digested remnants of breakfast, lunch, dinner, second helpings of each and snacks in between, all foaming into a milky puddle on the floor....

An olive rolled into one gouged eye socket."

There's sooooo much more, and it's sooooo much worse.  It's crazy-go-nuts.

—

RPG Relevance:  There's a reason wolves are staple tabletop baddies, and intelligent (well, at least in Razor's case) hounds that live only to kill certainly fit the bill.  I'd add broadcast telepathy to enhance group tactics and better antagonize / terrorize the PCs.

—

Final Review Score:  Not your usual same-ol', been-there beast-book.  A solid three encrusted Cujos out of Five.

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER

 

THIS IS PLANET MOTHERFUCKER