1987 sequel
Rating: 6/20 (Carrie: 4/20; Josh: 3/20; Fred: 5/20; Libby: 6/20; Erik: don't believe he made it to the end)
Plot: Werewolves in Australia have sex with humans.
Some terrible acting, half-baked social commentary that might be about aboriginal people but that could also work with AIDS, a pinch of bestiality, goofy puppet effects, long-snouted wereplatypuses (I looked it up--platypuses or platypus are the correct plural form of platypus. Platypi is incorrect. Platypodes would be more correct. I indirectly learned something completely useless to me from watching this movie.), clumsy comedy, a little ballet, were-nuns, a terrific performance by somebody named Burnham Burnham (or maybe Burnum Burnum--seems to depend on who you ask) as a bearded Outback guide medicine man guy, the cutest little baby weremarsupial you'll ever seen, a generous helping of Ozploitation, a nearly incomprehensible plot, what I can only assume was real footage of natives dancing around a real werewolf, an ending that refuses to come. This is solid bad movie stuff. We didn't end up watching King Kong Lives.
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