Aaah, Roger Corman. What would we do without you? You churn out movies with the output of a crystal meth fiend. And man, oh man, are these movies shlocky. Latest in your assembly line of crap is TERMINAL VIRUS. Just when we thought it couldn't get any more low-budget or nutty, here comes this post-apocalyptic vision of the future that makes THE MATRIX look like WAR AND PEACE. It has just enough eye candy and action to hold our interest, but quality is not a, um, quality to be found in this film.
TERMINAL VIRUS has the deliciously preposterous premise that a virus has been released into the atmosphere making it - wait for it... - literally deadly for a man and woman to have sex. Of course this very premise threatens the future of civilization as childbirth is impossible. Just as every other film set in the a post-apocalyptic world, TERMINAL VIRUS finds itself in the desert. Why? Because just like nuclear holocaust, biological warfare, and every other reason civilization gets wiped out in movies, the remaining world is a desert, MAD MAX-style. And similarly, there are roving bands of good guys and bad guys. Or in this case, bad guys and hot girls - who can't interact of course.
So these warring genders take on their own identities and camps - and thank goodness just as in every other film of this genre, this virus somehow makes the women wear incredibly skimply clothing and take showers together. Infect me now baby! But wait, there is hope - and it comes in the form of a new serum that may have the antidote for this virus. In other words, this serum may allow sex to occur. If it were me I'd be like Indiana Jones in the TEMPLE OF DOOM opening, crawling around on all fours trying to get ahold of that antidote.
Here, Indiana Jones takes on the form of two men - Bryan Genesse and James Brolin. That's right, Mr. Barbra Streisand and his right-hand man infiltrate the female camp and steal the very gorgeous Nikky Fritz to test out the serum on her (give you a hint, it works). Before you can fly away with Brolin on the PENSACOLA WINGS OF GOLD, though, we are treated to a all out battle of the sexes with Uzis, bazookas, and random explosions.
None of it makes much sense, but I do know that I enjoyed the sheer lunacy of it. The random gunplay. The gratuitous nudity. The knowledge that this movie will forever be in Brolin's filmography. TERMINAL VIRUS is certainly TERMINAL CRAP, but dang nabbit, it was a good time nonetheless. Check your brain at the door and enjoy.
RATING: *** (out of four)