The director of "The Blair Witch Project" (fraud!) could take some notes from this beauty of a self-filmed flick. I didn't get motion sickness once.
According to rumor (and a lot of people with basements) this beasty was only an infant with an enormous grudge because it was interrupted during lunch time.I can empathize to a point. Something tells me New Yorkers should be more tolerant to breast-feeding mothers.
Red pooh.I really can't comment further. I'm looking for my bottle of pepto-bismol.
I enjoy watching "Arachnophobia" as much as the next person and I have a soft spot for tarantulas. But this takes eight legs and an egg sac way too far.
It isn't really the design of the Sir Spidey, it's the fact that you can't get away from them. You kinda know you're about to meet the Giant Venom Sac in the Sky and maybe you're not quite ready. Not only that, you know with absolute certainty that your death is going to be slow and painful. Kind of like marriage.Anyway, I just tried to focus on Thomas Jane and ignore the daddy longlegs crawling across my sneaker on the theater floor.