Producers, we can have scripts with you by the end of the week
Enormous jaws snapping around your head, fins swishing in the air. Giggling clowns circling you in an underground carpark, ready to spray you with a flower-shaped water-squirters filled with acid. Terrible prospects, no doubt, but ones that have already been committed to celluloid thanks to the Sharknado movies and the new spin-off, the ridiculous-looking Clownado. What will they think of next? Well, that’s the question.
If you don’t know what we’re on about, here’s a quick education in cinematic history. Sharknado, the wilfully daft B-movie produced by the wilfully daft B-movie studio The Asylum in 2013, did exactly what it said on the fin: this was a horror film about a tornado of sharks that besieges Los Angeles, for some reason, leaving Tara Reid and her co-star Ian Ziering in a pickle that their careers may never recover from. There were five sequels, each more absurd than the last – this year’s final instalment was called The Last Sharknado: It’s About Time, leaving a tornado-shaped gap in the horror movie market.
Readers, Clownado has arrived to park its clown car in that gap. The director and writer Todd Sheets, the man behind the venture, wrote on IMDB: “The goal with Clownado was to make a damned good, scary and splatter-filled, nonstop roller coaster ride. “It’s something new, fresh, original and unique but also familiar.” For absolute clarity, he added: Don’t judge a book by it’s cover – this is certainly no comedy.”
Todd, your very existence scares us. But we do admire the tenacity of your imagination and determination to wring every last drop from a franchise that is, at best, deeply dubious. In fact, we couldn’t help but wonder what might be even scarier than a tornado of clowns of sharks, as our imaginations whipped up a twister of gnarly B-movie madness. Here, then, are the very scariest ‘nados we can imagine.
Dreadful Dutch dance music from the ’90s pounds your brain. You’re trapped in a warehouse in Rotterdam; skinhead blokes gurn around you. Big fish, little fish, cardboard box. You can never leave.
Tagline: They techno prisoners.
Remember when Pete Doherty ate that humongous breakfast in Margate? You must do the same over and over again – for eternity – until you sweat fried egg yoke.
Tagline: What a waistline!
Dozens of city bellends in their shit suits bellow into mobile phones, spraying you with a mysterious white dust and talking very, very quickly.
Tagline: Die, die, die! Sell, sell, sell!
Having developed the ability to talk – and sound like Ryan Reynolds – Detective Pikachu, inspired by the controversy that his big screen debut caused, has multiplied and whirls around you, wise-cracking like Deadpool – but, horrifyingly, he’s somehow even more annoying.
Tagline: Pokémon Go… to Hell!
Remember last month, when Primal Scream frontman Bobby Gillespie refused to dance on political TV show The Week, glowering so judgementally that it turned your blood cold? Picture a dozen Bobbies, a Bobby-nado, spinning around you, staring you down. Brrrr!
Tagline: On The Week, no-one can hear you (primal) scream.
Driven to distraction by The X Factor, the Pope of Stoke Robbie Williams has gone completely feral, killing your good mood by shit swing standards at you.
Tagline: Rudebox! Why’s he so nasty?
This guy tells everyone that he’s a feminist at every opportunity, and is keen to misinterpret anything you say as problematic, but – shock, horror! – in practise he’s not so woke, after all.
Tagline: Just when you thought it was safe to go back on Twitter…
Your favourite Netflix sci-fi horror fantasy has become terrifyingly real, and ’80s paraphernalia – Rubix Cubes! Gameboys! Cancelled TV hosts! – come flying towards you.
Tagline: Stranger Things have a happened.
It’s not only Pikachu who’s determined to ruin his own legacy. Here comes Morrissey, not satisfied at being the beloved poet laureate of the outsider, with some opinions to share. Brexit, Tommy Robinson, Anne Marie Waters – make no mistake, there’s a Mozza-nado on the rise.
Tagline: This bloke isn’t funny any more.
All the most boring pop stars in the universe – Jess Glynne, Emeli Sandé, Ed Sheeran – have teamed up and, in a touching tribute to Stan Lee, dubbed themselves The Zzzzz Men. Their mission: to make pop music as anodyne and non-controversial as possible.
Tagline: When there’s no more room in Hell, Ed will walk the Earth.