Nut-punches to cyborgs aside (that part must be biological), this movie had so much potential. Enormous potential! I could have fed a campfire, propped up my wobbly coffee table, or putted my way to an eagle in Frisbee golf if only I owned the disc. But no! I must stream these bursts of rotten excremental ooze through my Xbox via Netflix and am, therefore, denied even the Office Space-esque release of torturing the disc in lieu of the director, Tim Kincaid. Yes, THAT Tim Kincaid, who went on to astound viewers with Breeders, Robot Holocaust, Bad Girl Dormitory, Riot on 42nd Street, She’s Back, and The Occultist, all of which were released within an amazing creative burst of four years.
I can handle poor storytelling. I can sit through ambling plot, bad special effects, and unnervingly androgynous characters. I cannot abide, however, the lack of gratuitous nudity. With Mutant Hunt, I am woefully denied that all-important element of all cheesy horror movies. Hot women exiting showers seem to know a camera with a lurking pervert is nearby as they exit at all the wrong angles and quickly grab a towel. Sure, there are a few side-swell flashes and surprised vixens in bedrooms, but nothing substantial. Instead, my senses are filled with scene after scene of awkward fights with the main character wearing nothing but tighty whities. Yes, that’s right; crotch shots abound in this 1987 classic.
And forget Asimov. The first robotic rule is: Robots may not use conjunctions. That’s all it takes to be a robot. That and sport terminator sunglasses, a haircut inspired by Adolph Hitler, and a determined refusal to run… ever. Oh, and the shoulder pads. Mutant Hunt cyborgs feature shoulder pads that would make a Space Marine weep in jealousy. Seriously, the shoulder pads are even bigger than the extras had from the original “V” series.
If you can imagine a mutant stepchild of The Terminator and Miami Vice, then turn the cheese dial all the way to eleven and feature fight sequences with your eighty year-old grandmother as the stunt double, you’ll get close to the awesomeness that is Mutant Hunt, the only movie to include the line “space shuttle sex massacre”.
Mutant Hunt Cyborg
No. Enc.: 2d4 (2d4)
Movement: 120’ (40’)
Armor Class: 6
Hit Dice: 3
Attacks: 2 (hip grab, grenade throw, or choke grab)
Hoard Class: XX
Cyborgs resemble emotionally stunted humans wearing sunglasses and black leather outfits with extremely large shoulder pads. They are somehow able to carry 3d6 grenades, which they throw with varying degrees of accuracy. They tend to travel in groups. When reduced to zero hit points, the referee will roll 1d4. A result of one indicates the cyborg regains just enough life to throw a grenade. This roll is repeated until a two, three, or four is the result, at which point the cyborg is completely destroyed and eventually immolates after 1d8 rounds. The cyborgs can also grow their arm to a length of twenty feet for an extended choke grab. Any opponent wearing only tighty whities gains +2 damage and +10 HP.
Mutations: Extending arm.