I’m always on the lookout for the next flash of wtfuckery from the dusty video shelves of yesteryear; films bypassed perhaps due to a lack of publicity, or a flood of imitations, or sometimes even just a good old dose of common sense. And then there’s Scarab (1983), a nonsensical wonder that combines political intrigue, Egyptian warrior resurrections, a psychotic Rip Torn
, and perpetual ‘80s whipping boy Robert Ginty
. If I had discovered this on VHS, I never would have gotten rid of my Vcr.
Bypassing theatrical distribution stateside, Scarab made nary a sound with horror fans on home video; I’d never even heard of it despite being a Torn and Ginty fan since the dawn of the Panasonic
top loader. Oh well. As the saying goes, it’s never too late to unearth an incoherent yet delightful cult conspiracy flick. Or something like that.
I swear there