(Chris Windsor, 1982)
What happened to Chris Windsor? This is the person's only mention on imdb. And I hate to be a spoilsport, but I'm pretty sure Chris Windsor doesn't have a park in Edmonton named after him, but Big Miller does, and so he should have treated the poor man with a little respect. If you're going to make the Big Black Guy a homicidal Muslim, at least have some follow through man, he spends the last three quarters of the movie just glowering...and grudging. There are real charms to this camped-up, eccentric-with-a-capital-T musical-retro-comedy about a suburban town called Burquitlam that is beseiged by alien wind-up dolls that must be vanquished by this British-sounding guy's science project. But it doesn't cohere, it has some trouble with smug and empty, and back-to-back viewings with Big Crimewave do it no favours.
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