Chopping Mall Review (1986): Thalia’s Spook-n-Boobtacular Day 5
Directed by: Jim Wynorski
Released: 1986
Runtime: Approximately 77 minutes
Oh, this is fucking wonderful.
Look at these little bastards!
HAHAHAHAHA!
Hello, my beautiful degenerates! Welcome back to Thalia’s Screening Room for Day 5 of my wonderfully professional reviews for Thalia’s Spook-n-Boobtacular, where the wine is flowing, the popcorn is fresh, and I have somehow survived four consecutive nights of homicidal maniacs, possessed teenagers, and filmmakers with extremely creative ideas about where to point a camera.
Tonight we’re going shopping!
But speaking of shopping, my darlings, yours truly has a little something to announce!
I HAVE MY VERY OWN FUCKING COLORING BOOK!
That’s right! Video Store Nightmares: 40 Lost Horror Movies That Never Existed But Totally Should Have is now available on Amazon, just waiting for you to part with your hard-earned money!
Forty gloriously ridiculous horror movies that never existed, but absolutely fucking should have! And YOU get to bring them to life with your own crayons, colored pencils, markers, or whatever else you like to play with.
It’s an adult coloring book, mind you. Although not nearly as adult as I would’ve liked.
APPARENTLY, WE HAVE TO MAINTAIN STANDARDS!
Standards! In MY video store!
Can you fucking believe that?!
Anyway, buy my book, support the arts, and make your favorite Greek goddess very, very happy.
Now then! Back to tonight’s feature, where eight horny idiots are about to discover that the shopping mall has the worst fucking security department in history!
That’s right. We’re watching Chopping Mall, a 1986 horror-comedy from director Jim Wynorski, produced under the glorious shadow of Roger Corman, starring a bunch of attractive young people who are about to discover that the American shopping mall is an extremely dangerous place to have sex.
Although, really, have you seen what they’re charging for a pretzel these days? The warning signs were always there.
We’ve barely started, and they’re already showing off their fancy new mall security system. Three robots called Protectors are supposed to patrol the building, identify intruders, and politely subdue anyone who doesn’t belong there.
Polite little things, aren’t they?
Look at them! They look like somebody built a Dalek out of an industrial vacuum cleaner, a shopping cart, and whatever the hell was left over from a high school robotics competition.
AND THEY HAVE LASERS!
WHO APPROVED THIS?!
You know what our mall needs? A few teenagers sweeping the floors, perhaps a grumpy security guard, maybe some cameras.
NOPE!
LET’S PUT THREE ARMED FUCKING ROBOTS NEXT TO THE FOOD COURT!
And now some scientist is standing there assuring everybody that absolutely nothing can go wrong.
Oh, honey.
Have you never watched a movie?
The second somebody says that, you may as well start filling out the death certificates.
THE MALL IS OPEN. THE BRAINS ARE CLOSED.
Now we’re meeting our unsuspecting victims, and I must say, this movie understands its responsibilities.
We’ve got the cheerful blonde Suzie, played by Barbara Crampton. Oh, hello, Barbara! I know you! You’re one of the patron saints of gloriously disreputable 1980s cinema.
We’ve also got Allison, played by Kelli Maroney, who’s being dragged into an after-hours party and a blind date with the adorably awkward Ferdy.
I rather like these two already.
They’re shy, they’re sweet, and neither one looks entirely comfortable with the fact that everybody else apparently came to this gathering with one objective.
And that objective is to test the furniture.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, our young idiots have decided to throw a party inside a furniture store after the mall closes.
A furniture store!
Full of beds!
Full of couches!
Full of opportunities for terrible decisions!
It’s practically a romantic paradise, assuming you don’t mind the possibility of leaving suspicious stains on a mattress somebody’s grandmother is going to purchase tomorrow.
I’M NOT JUDGING!
Actually, yes, I am.
But favorably.
Now, somebody pour me more wine. I suspect we’re about to get to the important part.
THE FURNITURE DEPARTMENT HAS EXCELLENT CUSTOMER SERVICE
OH!
HELLO!
THERE WE GO!
HAHAHAHAHA!
Suzee Slater, everybody!
Well, somebody clearly read the script and understood precisely what sort of movie she had agreed to make.
She’s lying there looking absolutely magnificent, and now she’s sending her boyfriend off to fetch cigarettes while he’s apparently more interested in remaining underneath the sheets.
A man with his priorities in order.
Although, darling, if a beautiful woman is going to insist that you run out for cigarettes in the middle of an otherwise promising evening, I would strongly recommend checking whether the shopping mall has been taken over by homicidal appliances first.
A LITTLE COMMON SENSE, PLEASE!
And there’s Barbara Crampton!
YES!
Thank you, Jim Wynorski! I was beginning to worry that we might have to discuss the plot for another five minutes.
HAHAHAHA!
Oh, and her boyfriend says she smells like pepperoni.
He likes pepperoni.
Of course he does.
They’re making out in the furniture store, she works at the pizza place, and apparently the entire romantic vocabulary of this relationship can be summarized with the ingredients on a large meat lover’s special.
I respect that.
Actually, I love it.
You know what? There’s something rather charming about this whole ridiculous setup. Everybody is behaving like people who have wandered into a wonderfully sleazy teenage party movie, while the audience knows perfectly well that the building is about to become a mechanical slaughterhouse.
Meanwhile, Allison and Ferdy are over there watching an old science-fiction movie together.
Awwww.
Look at them.
They’re actually talking.
Getting to know one another.
Being nice!
Oh, you sweet little idiots. I’m rooting for you.
Please don’t get your heads blown off.
THANK YOU. HAVE A NICE FUCKING DAY!
OH SHIT!
THERE THEY GO!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
The lightning has hit, the computers have gone haywire, and our adorable little security robots have apparently decided that the appropriate punishment for being inside a shopping mall after closing is IMMEDIATE EXECUTION.
I LOVE THESE THINGS!
They roll around on their tiny tank treads, threatening people in their ridiculous mechanical voices, and then blast them with lasers.
LASERS!
Inside a shopping mall!
I’m sorry, but this is fucking hilarious.
Imagine being a maintenance worker, halfway through mopping the floor, when a glorified vending machine comes around the corner and decides you’ve committed a capital offense.
And after killing somebody, what do these little metal bastards say?
“Thank you. Have a nice day.”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
THEY’RE SO POLITE!
THEY’RE FUCKING MURDERERS, BUT THEY HAVE BETTER MANNERS THAN HALF THE PEOPLE WORKING RETAIL!
I’m actually starting to like them.
Is that bad?
Don’t answer that.
Oh, and here’s poor Mike trying to buy cigarettes.
Buddy.
BUDDY!
THERE IS A ROBOT WITH A LASER CANNON APPROACHING YOU!
WHY ARE YOU STANDING THERE TRYING TO NEGOTIATE?!
He’s attempting to bluff the thing with “Klaatu barada nikto.”
HAHAHAHA!
I appreciate the science-fiction reference, darling, but I don’t think the robot gives a shit about your taste in movies.
And there he goes.
Well.
Guess Leslie isn’t getting her cigarettes.
And now she’s come looking for him.
Oh, sweetheart, PUT SOME CLOTHES ON! THERE ARE MURDER ROBOTS OUT HERE!
Actually, don’t listen to me, leave them off.
I’m having a wonderful time.
Wait.
WAIT.
OH MY FUCKING GOD!
HER HEAD!
HAHAHAHAHA—WAIT! NO! NO, NO, NO!
NOT LESLIE! YOU METAL MOTHERFUCKER!
THE ROBOT JUST BLEW HER FUCKING HEAD APART!
GOOD LORD!
I was expecting some cheesy little laser blast and a dramatic collapse, but this movie just launched the poor woman’s head into another fucking dimension!
And I’ll give credit where it’s due. That is a BEAUTIFUL practical effect. Absolutely spectacular! A wonderfully disgusting explosion of cinematic craftsmanship!
BUT DID YOU HAVE TO DO IT TO LESLIE?!
OF ALL THE WOMEN IN THIS FUCKING MALL?!
She had the best pair of tits in the entire movie! THE BEST! And believe me, my darlings, the competition was formidable!
We barely got to appreciate those magnificent beauties, and now their lovely owner has been permanently removed from the proceedings by an overgrown fucking Roomba with a laser cannon!
I’M DEVASTATED!
Not only have we lost a beautiful woman, but we’ve lost the possibility of seeing those glorious breasts again!
It’s a tragedy. A genuine tragedy for the arts.
And you know what makes it worse? That murderous little metal bastard is probably going to roll away and tell somebody to have a nice day!
A NICE DAY?! YOU JUST DESTROYED TWO OF THE BEST REASONS TO WATCH THIS FUCKING MOVIE!
Thalia takes a long, mournful drink of wine.
Rest in peace, Leslie, darling. You deserved better.
And by better, I mean another twenty minutes of screen time and considerably less exploding.
Absolutely ridiculous, wonderfully excessive, and exactly the kind of thing I paid admission for.
Well, I didn’t actually pay admission. It’s my screening room.
But THE POINT STANDS!
And look at that! The robot is still going about its business.
No remorse. No hesitation.
Just another satisfied customer.
Five stars for customer service.
Zero stars for customer survival.
THE SPORTING GOODS DEPARTMENT IS NOW AN ARMORY
Oh, NOW we’re talking!
The survivors have realized that nobody is coming to save them, the mall is locked down until morning, and the only way they’re getting out is to fight back.
So naturally, the boys break into a sporting goods store and start collecting guns.
YES!
This is the correct response to killer robots.
Well, perhaps the first correct response would have been not installing killer robots in the shopping mall, but we’ve rather missed that opportunity.
And would you look at this!
They’re building traps!
Setting explosives!
Rigging elevators!
We’ve gone from a cheeky furniture-store sex comedy to a full-blown miniature action movie, and I am HERE FOR IT!
One of the things I’m genuinely enjoying about Chopping Mall is that its characters don’t spend the entire movie standing around waiting to die. They’re not all brilliant, obviously. If they were brilliant, they would be at home sleeping instead of hosting an orgy in a department store.
But they fight.
They improvise.
They throw everything they can find at these murderous mechanical bastards.
And Jim Wynorski actually uses the mall!
We’ve got escalators, elevators, sporting goods, furniture displays, maintenance corridors, stores full of flammable merchandise…
This place is a playground for a filmmaker with absolutely no respect for property damage.
I APPROVE!
And the robots!
Oh, those ridiculous little robots.
They really shouldn’t be this entertaining.
They move around like angry refrigerators somebody taught to hunt, and yet somehow every time one rounds a corner, I get excited.
Maybe I need help.
MADDIE! MAKE A NOTE!
Actually, don’t.
We don’t need that in the Archives.
REST IN PEACE, BEAUTIFUL IDIOTS
Oh, Suzie.
Oh, darling.
No.
NO!
Not Barbara!
YOU MECHANICAL LITTLE SHIT!
Well, that was unpleasant.
She’s been set on fire, her boyfriend is losing his mind, and suddenly this stupid movie has remembered that death is supposed to be horrifying.
I’m a little offended.
Not because it was badly done. Quite the opposite. That was an effective, nasty way to kill somebody we’d actually gotten to know.
I was enjoying her!
She was fun!
She was beautiful!
SHE SMELLED LIKE PEPPERONI, DAMMIT!
And now I’m hungry and upset.
You know, that’s another thing this movie has going for it. Beneath all the jokes, the laser beams, and the extraordinary stupidity, these people are likable enough that I actually notice when one of them dies.
Not everybody gets much personality, certainly. Some of these poor bastards might as well be wearing signs saying PLEASE EXPLODE ME.
But Allison and Ferdy?
I want them to survive.
Suzie?
I was genuinely sorry to see her go.
Leslie?
Well, I appreciated her contributions to the evening before the robot redecorated the furniture department with her skull.
And all of that counts for something.
Especially in a movie called Chopping Mall, which, I should point out, HAS NOT FEATURED VERY MUCH ACTUAL CHOPPING.
I WAS PROMISED CHOPPING!
MOSTLY I’M GETTING LASERS!
Not that I’m complaining.
Much.
Oh, look! Another explosion!
NEVER MIND! ALL IS FORGIVEN!
SHOP TILL YOU DROP. LITERALLY.
This movie is just seventy-something minutes of gleeful nonsense, isn’t it?
And I mean that as the highest compliment.
People are shooting robots, robots are shooting people, somebody’s driving a golf cart into a mechanical death machine, and the whole shopping mall appears to be one insurance claim away from bankruptcy.
HAHAHAHA!
CAN YOU IMAGINE BEING THE OWNER OF THIS PLACE?
You wake up in the morning expecting to check the receipts from the shoe department, and instead you discover that your multimillion-dollar security system has murdered half the staff, cremated several customers, and destroyed an elevator.
And for what?
To stop somebody stealing a pair of earrings?!
BRILLIANT INVESTMENT!
I also want to compliment the look of this movie.
Yes, really.
THEIA! YOU CAN COME OUT OF HIDING! I’M ABOUT TO DISCUSS CINEMATOGRAPHY!
The mall setting is bright, colorful, and unmistakably 1980s. Even with its modest budget, there’s a sense of space and movement. The practical effects are fun, the explosions have some real impact, and the filmmakers know how to frame these ridiculous robots so they occasionally look threatening.
Occasionally.
Other times they look like a vacuum cleaner having a nervous breakdown.
But that’s part of the charm!
Chopping Mall understands exactly what it is.
It doesn’t pretend to be profound. It isn’t desperately trying to convince us that murderous mall robots are some terrifying new philosophical warning about humanity’s dependence on technology.
It’s a bunch of attractive young people trapped in a shopping mall with homicidal robots.
THAT’S THE MOVIE!
AND IT DELIVERS!
FINAL CLEARANCE: EVERYTHING MUST EXPLODE
ALLISON!
GET UP, GIRL!
COME ON!
Oh, she’s hurt, Ferdy’s hurt, and the last of these tin-plated psychopaths is still rolling around trying to murder them.
You know what? I’ve become rather protective of these two.
They started the evening on the world’s most awkward blind date, and now they’re fighting for their lives against a malfunctioning security system.
Honestly, that’s probably a better bonding experience than dinner and a movie.
Provided you survive.
And Allison is using the paint store!
YES!
THAT’S MY GIRL!
Oh, that is a wonderfully stupid idea.
Which means, naturally, that it’s going to work.
She’s got the chemicals, she’s got the flare, the robot is hopelessly stuck…
DO IT!
DO IT!
BURN THE LITTLE BASTARD!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
BOOOOOOM!
YES!
THAT’S HOW YOU END A MOVIE!
Good God, what a magnificent pile of nonsense.
And that final little mechanical farewell?
“Thank you. Have a nice day.”
HAHAHAHAHA!
I FUCKING LOVE IT!
THALIA’S FINAL DECREE
Well, my beautiful degenerates, I have to say that was a delightful evening at the mall.
Chopping Mall is precisely the kind of B-movie that reminds me why I love this wonderfully disreputable corner of cinema. It’s fast, ridiculous, inventive, and gloriously unconcerned with behaving itself.
Would I have liked more nudity? Obviously. We have Barbara Crampton and Suzee Slater here, and while both make memorable contributions, a goddess must always advocate for the arts.
Would I have liked a few more outrageous kills? Absolutely. For something called Chopping Mall, there is remarkably little chopping, although the exploding head does a heroic amount of work.
Would I have liked the robots to be genuinely frightening? Perhaps.
But then they wouldn’t be so fucking adorable.
What matters is that Jim Wynorski takes a fundamentally ridiculous idea and wrings a tremendous amount of entertainment out of it. The cast is likable, the action moves along, the practical effects have personality, and the whole movie feels like it was made by people who understood that audiences came to have fun.
And that’s worth celebrating.
After five nights of murderous weirdos, demonic possessions, questionable supernatural rituals, and more exposed breasts than I can reasonably be expected to count without an abacus, it’s rather refreshing to encounter a movie whose villains are essentially homicidal shopping carts.
I loved those little metal bastards.
I loved Allison and Ferdy.
I loved the exploding head.
And I especially loved that the robots never once forgot their manners.
Thalia’s Final Decree
HORROR: ★☆☆☆☆ — 1/5
Homicidal shopping carts with laser cannons! HAHAHAHA! I’m sorry, but these little bastards are about as frightening as an angry Roomba. A couple of nasty deaths, sure, but I spent considerably more time laughing than screaming.
CHEESE: ★★★★☆ — 4/5
Killer robots! Laser beams! Exploding merchandise! A shopping mall converted into a war zone! This is some magnificent 1980s nonsense, and I love it. Four glorious stars for a movie that understands the fine art of being completely fucking ridiculous.
BOOBS: ★★☆☆☆ — 2/5
Barbara Crampton and Suzee Slater, my darlings. WHAT A PAIR OF ABSOLUTE TREASURES! Unfortunately, what we get is over almost as soon as it begins. The quantity might be lacking, but the quality? EXQUISITE!
And then one of those mechanical motherfuckers goes and BLOWS LESLIE’S HEAD OFF!
THE WOMAN WITH THE BEST TITS IN THE ENTIRE FUCKING MOVIE!
UNFORGIVABLE!
Two stars!
Listen, there’s fun to be had here. I enjoyed the robots, the ridiculous premise, the explosions, and the occasional glimpse of some truly magnificent scenery. But there’s not much horror, the exploitation could’ve gone further, and for all its wonderful stupidity, I wanted a little more from this trip to the mall.
It’s a decent little B-movie, but I’m not about to declare it a cinematic masterpiece just because somebody strapped lasers to three fucking vacuum cleaners.
And I certainly won’t forgive what they did to Leslie.
THANK YOU. HAVE A NICE FUCKING DAY!
— Thalia
Goddess of Glorious Trash, Defender of Questionable Cinema, and Permanently Banned from the Titanquisitor Mall Security Committee
