Savoring the schlock, one terrible film at a time

"Mandy"
Produced by SpectreVision


"Mandy"
Since Christmas I have watched about 200 of the worst movies I could find. Thanks to the wonders of streaming, the supply of horrible films is, apparently, inexhaustible.
A note on methodology: I relied heavily on Rifftrax, an outfit that does the hard work of digging up these relics and offers them accompanied by what they call “riffing,” meaning they crack jokes.
The danger here is concentrating on the commentary and not the movies. Here at The Lakeville Journal’s Bad Cinema Desk, we write our own jokes.
So when feasible, I found the straight version of a flick Rifftrax covers.
Free-with-ads services such as Tubi, Freevee, and Plex have vast libraries of cruddy stuff, so it’s not that hard to track these things down.
But sometimes it was just simpler to go with Rifftrax and do my best to avoid swiping their gags.
Here are five awful movies that got my attention, for all the wrong reasons.
“Mandy” (2018): Psychedelic pshocker with the always-entertaining Nicolas Cage doing battle against a cult of weirdos whose leader (Linus Roache) seems to think he’s a cross between Jesus and Charlie Manson, with a little Jon Anderson (of Yes) thrown in for seasoning.
The weirdos are in cahoots with a gang of mutant bikers, and everybody’s drinking down this sludgy LSD specially created for them by the Chemist because, A) he doesn’t like them, and B) he’s got a tiger.
Kung fu with chainsaws, medieval weapons and bare fists. Eyeball-popping. Barbed wire. Hallucinations galore. King Crimson music. Custom vans. About 40 gallons of blood. Dorm room theology. And Cage in his skivvies, for maximum horror.
“Fungicide” (2002): This could be called “outsider cinema.” It could also be called “amateurish dreck.” Both descriptions are correct.
A mad scientist, an ex-military guy with issues, a jort-wearing tough guy from Philly and a real estate dork all show up at a rustic bed and breakfast.
The mad scientist has done something to the mushrooms so the spores are floating around creating killer mushrooms and the world is gonna end. I think that’s the gist of it. It’s hard to tell. The sound is kinda muddy.
What makes this shine are the killer mushrooms. There are three types: Mushrooms with teeth that are about 2 feet tall; man-sized mushrooms (no teeth); and unconvincing computer mushrooms.
Mushroom attack cam. Real estate broker chewed by mushrooms. Excellent stick fights between cast members and the big mushrooms. The slowest martial arts kicks ever captured on someone’s aunt’s camcorder. Mad scientist who would steal the show if there was a show to steal. Fascinating in its way. However, you may lose IQ points by watching this.

“Miami Connection” (1987): Also outsider cinema, in the sense that it really wants to be inside.
This flick centers around the guys in Dragon Sound, a rock band that made me long for the hard-hitting sounds of Journey or a tape of seals giving birth, whichever is easier to round up.
The Dragon Sound members study tae kwon do with the rhythm guitarist, Mark, and they need it because they get mixed up with a cocaine-dealing bunch of ninja-type bad guys. Also Mark’s not much of a guitarist.
The flick’s got a “Scooby-Doo” or “Archies” feel to it, marred somewhat by the star’s inability to speak English.
The music sequences would be unbelievable…except they are indistinguishable from rock videos of the era. So if the hard work of dozens of professional filmmakers and musicians can be duplicated for about 10 cents on the dollar by a bunch of complete amateurs, that says something. Something profound. And if you give me a minute I’ll remember what it is.
“Radical Jack” (2000): Starring Mr. Achy Breaky his ownself, Billy Ray Cyrus, as Jack, ex-CIA, seeker of justice and proud owner of the most spectacular mullet haircut in world history.
Jack blows into a small Vermont town and gets tangled up in an arms-dealing racket. I know that when I’m in the market for a rocket-propelled grenade launcher or some other handy item, I always think “Vermont.”
Here I must bow in tribute to Rifftrax for the vocal stylings during the sponge bath scene.
Elsewhere, you will be as pleased as I was when the son of the bad guy gets it right in the pleated Dockers. In these lax, postmodern times, crimes against style are so rarely punished in public.

“The Apple” (1980): Saving the absolute worst for last, this is a sci-fi rock musical, written and directed by Menahem Golan.
The story is that something called the BIM is coming, and a whole mob of freaks in shiny underwear have to get ready. Meanwhile this guy Alphie wants to rescue this girl Bibi from the BIM and go live in a field with the hippies.
It’s difficult to describe this adequately, so let’s just go with “bonkers,” which was how Falls Village’s Garth Kobal summed it up in a recent discussion of the trashy and ephemeral.
The high point is a musical number, “Coming.”
I used to think that Donna Summer’s 1975 disco hit “Love to Love You Baby” was the last word in sex songs. I mean, it’s about 20 minutes of moaning over a relentless beat.
But next to “Coming,” Summer’s effort sounds like a Gregorian chant.
The other high point is the end. Well, near the end.
There is an honest-to-God deus ex machina. Literally. A guy in a glowing white suit who gets out of a glowing white Rolls Royce in the sky to lead the hippies to Paradise.
And it’s not John Lennon.
Note: Many Rifftrax flicks (and predecessor “Mystery Science Theater 3000”) are available on the above-mentioned streaming services. For the uninitiated, watching a riffed version is a safe way to enter the world of Bad Cinema. Only advanced viewers should attempt the original versions, due to the very real possibility of irreparable brain damage.
Graham Corrigan
MILLBROOK — Representatives from the Millbrook Fire Department appealed for aid at the Washington Town Board meeting last week.
The department is underfunded, fire district officials said. Old equipment, aging infrastructure, and a glut of new members have stretched the department to its breaking point. “Usually we’re the ones doing the helping,” said Fire Captain Kelly Tomasulo, “but today we’re asking you for help.”
The department covers 64 square miles, serving the Village of Millbrook and Town of Washington. Active firefighters contribute an estimated 30 to 50 hours per month, though officer hours can be far more. Members also devote time to fundraising intended to offset costs to taxpayers. The department is staffed entirely by volunteers, and responded to 955 emergency calls last year, equal to two to three calls per day.
The department’s budget totaled $991,000 last year. Of that, $600,000 is allocated to an ambulance contract with Empress EMS, which the department said is “on the cheap side.” They expect that number to double when the contract comes up for renewal next year.
That leaves $391,000 for the fire department’s remaining expenses, including apparatus maintenance, protective gear, training, fuel, utilities, and firehouse upkeep.
Equipment is also aging past recommended replacement timelines. The National Fire Protection Association recommends replacing apparatus after about 20 years; the department states several of its trucks are “well beyond that standard.” NFPA guidance also calls for gear to be replaced every seven to 10 years, but the department reports some of its gear is over 20 years old, and many members have only one set of gear, when two are recommended. Tomasulo said they have borrowed gear from neighboring departments just to equip the firefighters.
The department also cited space constraints at its firehouse, which was not designed for today’s truck sizes. Tomasulo said there are about 3 inches of leeway when returning a truck to the firehouse.
A silver lining in all this is Millbrook FD’s increased membership. At a time when many volunteer services are disbanding from lack of interest, approximately 50 people have joined the Millbrook volunteers over the past two years. But the department said this growth brings additional costs for gear and equipment as call volume, infrastructure needs, and equipment costs continue to rise.
As a point of comparison, the department estimates that replacing volunteer coverage with paid staffing for just three firefighters would cost between $240,000 and $315,000 per year, covering partial daytime staffing only. Nights, weekends, and major incidents would still require volunteer response under that scenario.
Before responding to a call, members complete state-mandated training. New York State firefighter certification includes roughly 80 to 100 hours of entry-level training and 120 to 160 hours for Interior Firefighter certification, plus annual safety training and ongoing drills. Basic EMT certification requires approximately 150 to 180 hours, with continuing education required every three years. Combined, the department states that firefighter and EMT training totals 350 to 450 hours before a member is fully qualified.
The department is asking the community to “support them, equip them,” and “stand behind them when they answer the call.”
Jacquelyn Drain
The retreat featured frequent walks through the woods around Yale Camp to take inspiration from nature.
FALLS VILLAGE, Conn. — I know nothing about nature aside from my reverence for its beauty. I took one environmental science class nearly four years ago but that is the extent of my knowledge. Despite this I had the pleasure of being surrounded by not only nature enthusiasts but also experts at the inaugural Yale Camp Writers Retreat held at Great Mountain Forest.
The background of the retreat was an essential, calming character. The rustic and historic Yale Camp, founded in 1940, is nestled amongst 6,500 acres of woods on Canaan Mountain. With 15 hiking trails, the forest is home to beautiful scenery and creatures.
The retreat was created by author Tom Shachtman in honor of local writer Hal Borland. Borland lived on a farm on Weatogue Road in Salisbury, Conn., towards the end of his life where he wrote all but one of his classic books such as “When the Legends Die” and “High, Wide and Lonesome.”
All the retreatants varied heavily in background but we all came together to discuss the common interests of writing and nature. From corporate finance to lawyers to students, we all brought our individual expertise into the discussion and connected at meals and free time, forming genuine social bonds with strangers over a single similar interest.
After arriving around noon on Friday, I set up my bunk, introduced myself to my roommates for the weekend and began to outline my goals and mindset heading into the retreat. There is no better setting to journal than sitting on a porch in a rocking chair looking out at the vast trees and rolling hills of the Northwest Corner.
The first day I went on a guided nature walk to Old Man McMullen Pond. There was a perfect reflection of the light blue sky and bright clouds on the still surface as rushing water poured over a beaver dam next to the pond. I sat on a bench looking out at the magnificent sight in awe.
Over the course of the weekend I attended three different sessions led by varying nature writers. Todd Davis, a writer, poet and environmental science professor, discussed the importance of the natural world and how he conveys it in his writing, connecting nature to human experiences without exploiting it. Former Director of the Sharon Audubon Center Eileen Fielding gave a beginners’ explanation of ecology, which was personally much needed, and provided examples on how to communicate scientific information to be easily digestible for readers.
The most enlightening experience for me was poet and environmentalist Evelyn Reilly’s session on Ecopoetics, an idea created by poet Jonathan Skinner referring to how writing can change our relationship with the environment. In preparation for this session I was instructed to bring a nature poem by another writer that I enjoyed and a poem of my own creation. Before this assignment, I hadn’t written a poem since probably third grade. It was a daunting task, to say the least. But I put my head down and told myself it doesn’t have to be profound, you don’t have to be the next Mary Oliver, just write something. After I wrote it, my mom insisted on seeing it and when she began reading it out loud to my dad, I ran into the other room plugging my ears to not cringe at my work.
I showed up to the session on the second day, palms sweating, 14 copies of my poem in hand as well as a Rupi Kaur poem from her collection titled “Home Body.” Toward the end of the session, after discussing what it means to be an ecopoet and analyzing several examples, we broke off into groups of three to discuss. When it came time to discuss my poem after hearing from some of history’s greatest, I was shocked to receive positive feedback. Though I greatly desired approval from my peers, concerningly, I realized as they were reading it that it didn’t matter. I was happy with the message it conveyed and its connection between human life and nature. It didn’t need to be one of the great works of art, it worked well and that’s all that matters.
This retreat marked a much needed time of reflection, grounding and reconnection to why I write.
Having attended a religious high school, retreats are not a new experience for me. However, this was my first time being embedded in nature with the sole focus of writing. My relationship with creative writing is similar to that of an old friend whom I drifted apart from because I had neglected to give it attention and time. This three-day experience gave me the opportunity to reconnect with what it means to be a writer.
Despite being hugely out of my comfort zone surrounded by many new people — all of whom are much more experienced than myself — I received a sign that I was in the right place.
My favorite movie is “Dead Poets Society” and the film introduced me to the book “Walden” by Henry David Thoreau. In the movie, the main character paraphrases a line from the book which reads, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” Reading the book has always been on my bucket list but landed on the back burner for many years.
The first night of the retreat featured a raffle for campers to choose from a selection of books. When my name was called toward the end I approached the table and my eyes immediately darted to a 1939 copy of the book. I immediately grabbed it and couldn’t put it down the rest of the weekend. I knew that book was there for me and I was in the right place to learn how to suck out all the marrow of life, as Thoreau professes.
Millerton News
WEST CORNWALL — Jeff Rosati, 72, of West Cornwall, Connecticut, passed away peacefully on August 11, 2026.
Born in New Milford on January 18, 1954, Jeff was the devoted son of the late Kathren Valtrum.
After graduating from New Milford High School, he began his career with Eversource as a meter reader, dedicatedly serving the company for 42 years before retiring in 2014 as Chief Garage Mechanic.
In 1979, during a chance meeting while getting a haircut, Jeff met the love of his life, Bernetta (Marshall). Their love story was one for the record books, sharing a deeply devoted marriage of 45 years.
In 1983, Jeff and Bernetta found their forever home in Cornwall, building a life centered on hard work and quiet kindness.
In his retirement, “Little Jeffy” was happiest being outdoors or in his barn. He loved tinkering on projects, tending to his garden, and caring for his hummingbirds. A treasured friend who was always willing to lend a helping hand, he could often be found happily mowing the lawn or pulled over roadside on his beloved John Deere tractor catching up with neighbors.
Jeff will be profoundly missed by his loving wife, Bernetta; the Marshall family of Crane, Texas; and countless friends across Cornwall who held him dear.
A Graveside Service will be held at North Cornwall Cemetery, Rattlesnake Rd., West Cornwall, CT on Thursday August 20 at 11:00 a.m.
Memorial donations may be made to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, 501 St. Jude Place, Memphis, TN 38105.

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Millerton News
AMENIA — William (Bill) O’Connell died peacefully surrounded by family at Sharon Hospital on Aug. 12, 2026, due to complications of cancer. Bill was born into a large Irish Catholic family in Bay Shore, New York, on March 3, 1964. After Bill completed kindergarten, the family moved upstate, settling on Depot Hill in Amenia, New York, where he was a lifelong resident. He attended Catholic School at Immaculate Conception, transferring to Webutuck Middle School in the sixth grade. He graduated from Webutuck High School in 1982.
As a child he was an avid (obsessed) fisherman, asking for a new fishing pole every year for his birthday. He was given permission to skip school every opening day of fishing season. He cherished fond memories of growing up as a “Depot Hill Gang” member. He enjoyed playing soccer, basketball, and baseball throughout high school. While hitchhiking home from his job as a lifeguard at the Millerton Town Pool, good looks and charm got him discovered. First as a print model, then as an actor in eleven television commercials and as an extra in a couple of movies. Anyone who knew him at that time was fair game for a ride to the train station or directly into the city for the many auditions he went to. He was a painter by trade, working in partnership with his brother Michael, at O’Connell Painting for many years serving the tri-state area. Bill was adventurous, loved to travel, and spent several months on a walk-a-bout through Australia and New Zealand. Bill was always up for a concert, a Giants game, or picking the freshest berries on the way to a cool fishing spot. He was well known locally at many recreational leagues for indoor soccer, darts, pool, cards, and golf. He was quite a competitor at everything he enjoyed. Bill and Michael organized the annual O’Connell Paint Can Open for many years, with loyal enthusiasts flying in to attend year after year. In the latter years, complications from multiple ailments made his life increasingly difficult, dulling his natural shine. The bright spot of that time was how patient and attentive he was while caring for his mother, Frankie. Being present in her daily life so she could remain at home. This obituary was lovingly composed by his siblings, who loved him dearly.
Bill was predeceased by his parents, John & Evelyn O’Connell, and is survived by his three siblings; Karen Grimaldi (Mark) of Salisbury, Connecticut, Michael O’Connell of Florida, and Kathleen Lacko of Casper, Wyoming; two nieces and three nephews, Connor Washburn (Hannah), Mickaela Grimaldi, Liam Girmaldi, Kenny Lacko, and Marykate Lacko, dozens of cousins, and countless friends who will miss him tremendously.
A graveside service and burial will take place on Thursday, Aug., 20, 2026, at 11 a.m. at Immaculate Conception Cemetery in Amenia, New York. Rev. Andrew O’Connor will officiate. A reception in Bill’s honor will follow at the Amenia Steakhouse. Memorial contributions may be made to the Amenia Fire Company & Rescue Squad, P.O. Box 166, Amenia, NY 12501. To send an online condolence to the family, flowers to the service or to plant a tree in Bill’s memory please visit www.conklinfuneral.com Arrangements have been entrusted to Scott D. Conklin Funeral Home, 37 Park Avenue, Millerton, NY 12546.
Millerton News
MILLBROOK — Joyce Gertrude (Kirstein) Cassetta of Millbrook, 96, passed away peacefully on Monday, Aug. 10 at Maplewood. Joyce was born Sept. 15, 1930, in Ossining New York to Ethel (Travis) and Franz Kirstein. She was the second eldest of 6 children, and the only member of her family to graduate high school. Joyce married Michael A. Cassetta (deceased) of Tarrytown in 1950. Joyce and Mike built their first home in East Irvington where they raised their family. Joyce was an outstanding cook, avid gardener, enjoyed curling and ice skating. Joyce also served over 50 years in the Eastern Star. She is survived by 3 of her 4 children, 3 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren. She has one surviving sister, Shirley. Our deepest gratitude to those who cared for her, especially her son Mark. Joyce will be laid to rest at Hillside Cemetery.
Millerton News

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