Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie

recomandat de nea frigideru... nu e chiar film, e mai mult live-parody, o idee interesanta...

unele replici sunt chiar geniale...

Exeter: Now place your hands above the rail
[hands suddenly attach to the rail]
Exeter: ... they’re magnetized.
Crow T. Robot: And if your hands were metal, that would mean something.
—
Tom Servo: Ah, they’re going 65, so they’ll be there in 3 BILLION years...
—
Tom Servo: Captain’s log: a bunch of our ship fell off, and, nobody likes me.
—
Mike: Raspberry world. For all your raspberry needs.
—
[seeing the desolate, war-ravaged surface of Metaluna]
Mike: This must be what went on in Salvador Dali’s head.
—
Exeter: Into the converter tubes. Ruth, you take the first tube. Cal, you take the second.
Cal Meecham: What about you?
Exeter: I’ll take the third tube.
Tom Servo: [as Cal] Oh, right. Stupid question.
—
alien spaceship catches plane in tractor beam]
Mike Nelson: I’m beginning to think they’re not from around here.
Tom Servo: No, I bet you they’re English, or Canadian.
—
[as entire mountain explodes]
Tom Servo: That’s what happens when you leave a potato in the microwave!
—
Crow T. Robot: [as Cal beats a MutAnt in the head] Oh, I’m very vulnerable there! Oh, there go the piano lessons! I can’t remember my dad!
—
Mike Nelson: [as the Universal-Internation Presents credit comes up] Doesn’t the fact that it’s universal make it international?
—
Cal Meecham: [Struggling with the controls of his jet] I have no control...
Mike: I keep eating and eating.
—
[as Exeter’s flying saucer catches fire]
Crow T. Robot: "Service engine soon" I wonder what that’s all about.
—
Tom Servo: If not satisfied with this movie, please return unused portion for a full refund.
—
Crow T. Robot: Don’t leave me with the Germans!
—
Carl Meecham: Relocation? To where?
The Monitor: To your Earth.
Exeter: A PEACEFUL relocation...
Crow T. Robot: After the genocide, of course.
—
Crow T. Robot: [as Joe comes down the stairs] This is a job for "Weenie man!"
—
Benkitnorf: I don’t know. Geez... let’s see, maybe this does something...
[pushes button, zapping Servo]
Benkitnorf: Crap. That’s not it. Hang on...
[gets manual]
Benkitnorf: Okay. Did you use the Intensifier Disc?
All: Yes.
Benkitnorf: Turn the controls 18 degrees to the left?
All: Did that.
Benkitnorf: Are you in Europe? Do you need an adapter?
All: No.
—
Exeter: They’re concentrating all their attention on Metaluna. Those flashes of light – they’re meteors. Hundreds of them! The intense heat is turning Metaluna into a radioactive sun. The temperature must be thousands of degrees by now.
Crow T. Robot: Cooler by the lake.
Exeter: A lifeless planet. And yet...
Tom Servo: Rents are reasonable!
Exeter: Yet, still serving a useful purpose, I hope. Yes... a sun, warming the surface of some other world – giving light to those who may need it.
Mike: "Still, your whole family died. That’s a bummer, huh?"
—
Tom Servo: [Zagon bomb explodes en route to thought-transference chamber] "Golly, those doggone Zagons are really licking us, huh! Well, let’s go get your brains scrambled...”
—
Crow T. Robot: [as ship descends into fantastic Metaluna landscape] Looks like Dr. Seuss designed their planet!
Tom Servo: Oh, they’re flying into a Roger Dean album cover.
Crow T. Robot: They’re very into "Yes" on this planet.
Tom Servo: Hee hee!
Mike: International flights always get the gate furthest from the terminal.
Tom Servo: Remember, we’re parked in the &quot
;Denubrian Slime Devil" lot!
—
Tom Servo: Self cleaning mutant. Leaves only the fresh scent of pine.
—
Mike: Yeah, let’s slip awayy under cover of afternoon in the biggetst car in the county!
—
[Inside the environmental tubes]
Crow T. Robot: Wow this must be what its like inside a bong! Whehue!
—
[as Tom Servo reads the opening credits:]
Tom Servo: Okay, let’s see here... Shatner, Shatner... no, doesn’t look like he’s in this one; we’re safe.
—
Cal Meecham: Check rate of radioactive decay.
Crow T. Robot: Increase the Flash Gordon noise and put more science stuff around!
—
[after breaching the hull in an escape attempt]
Crow T. Robot: Well believe me, Mike, I calculated the odds of this succeeding versus the odds I was doing something incredibly stupid... and I went ahead anyway.
[Everyone is being sucked into the vacuum of space]
Crow T. Robot: Hey, Mike, you think you can toss me my calculations? Thanks! Ah, here it is. "Breach Hull – All Die." Even had it underlined.
—
Crow T. Robot: Hey! Who sneezed on the credits?
—
Tom Servo: Suddenly I have a refreshing mint flavor.
—
Exeter: I beg your pardon, Mr. Wilson, your camera will pick up nothing but black fog.
Tom Servo: Oh, it’s a Goldstar.

nota 8.50