Clark Brandon issues a refreshing flashback to yesteryear B-movie goodness with a monster invasion involving giant mosquitoes as they prey upon a town filled with enough local color to suffocate a David Lynch production. Given the over-the-top premise, Skeeter accomplishes more than should be expected and, interestingly, has quite a bit of fun in so doing.

In Mesquite, Texas, after a rash of cattle deaths, Deputy Roy Boone (Jim Youngs, Youngblood, Footloose) calls the country inspector, Gordon Perry (William Sanderson, Blade Runner), fearing something might be amiss with the local water supply. This arouses the suspicion of sleazy entrepreneur named Drake (Jay Robinson) who has begun development in the area after first paying off the Sheriff, Ernie Buckle (Charles Napier, The Silence of the Lambs, Philadelphia), before placing Perry’s supervisor in his pocket. It is at this time that Boone’s long-lost love interest, Sarah Crosby (Tracy Griffith, Sleepaway Camp III: Teenage Wasteland), returns to town. Drake sets out to thwart Boone’s inquisitive nature as the Deputy and his partner, Hank Tucker (Eloy Casados, White Can’t Jump, Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man), attempt to evade the developer’s henchmen, win Crosby’s affection, and save Mesquite from giant, mutated mosquitoes.

This little known film, filled with a very recognizable cast, is an overlooked gem which attempts to relive the glory days of 1950’s monster invasion cinema. Shockingly, Brandon’s production does quite well for itself. Yes, there are some major flaws with the picture. However, taken as a latter-day B-movie monster flick that knows the confines in which it is attempting to function, Skeeter–if the viewer approaches the movie with just this in mind–is quite enjoyable.

The pacing, characterization, and acting are what is to be expected as the script trucks along, charting the characters as they would “plausibly” appear and react in such a situation (i.e. in a movie), that is, after finding themselves in a small desert community contending with an invasion of cat-sized mosquitoes capable of draining a person dry in a matter of seconds. Yet the fun of the film is that Brandon is aware of what he is dealing with and pays heed to the fine line between taking such a work too seriously and spoofing it to the point of flaccidity. Thus, I have some highlights which, I must admit, I cannot be sure if they were oversights or coyly placed winks-and-nods to connoisseurs of B-movie mania (which, in this regard, is part of the film’s fun). However, if you hold a giant mosquito to my head, I would be inclined to lean toward Brandon’s instances of B-movie badness being intentional due solely to the fact that the symbolic nature of the names, “Mesquite” (mosquito) and “Buckle” (the paid-for Sheriff), are just bad enough to be all too appropriate in the wake of such a premise.

For example, the opening scenes of the film seem to imply that those living in Mesquite obey an unwritten law (or it could be written, who knows?) that males in the town must own a motorcycle and that the guy’s age is in direct ratio to the size of the bike. Also, if you are the town hunk, you are permitted to ride to your job as a respective man of the law in a blazer, sans shirt, as your hair, gelled to perfection, doesn’t dare waver in the wind. Also, if you live in a no-name town which no one will visit unless called upon or has a personal interest in, you needn’t mow the cemetery, even though funerals are taking place almost daily. Furthermore, if you’re richer than snot on account of your cattle rearing, you are to move to Mesquite because Sarah’s father, Clay (John Goff, The Fog, They Live, Maniac Cop), loses twenty head of cattle and doesn’t bat an eye. Also of note, those of you thinking about going into the field (ha!) of agriculture, and water treatment in particular, let it be known that you are expected to brandish a haircut that is the polar opposite of the town hunk’s, so much so that it must appear as if your blind, epileptic barber has recently come down with Parkinson’s.

All kidding aside, Skeeter does suffer from two major dilemmas. One, the character of Hopper (Michael Pollard, Bonnie and Clyde), the Shakespearian fool who seems to prattle line after line of gibberish as he explicates the town’s predicament long before the cognizant figure out what’s going on, is ruined because he, in fact, isn’t loopy. Surprisingly (yet disappointingly), he is actually aware of what’s going on because he’s harboring one of the giant insects in his home (and personally, I mean that literally, feeding it himself). Also, the genesis for the oversized bugs is never explained. If it weren’t for the plot summary on the back of the box, which states the cause of the mayhem to be toxic waste (as well as the citation that film takes place in Mesquite, not Clear Sky, as the welcoming sign designates as well as the police officials’ patches), I would have been left shrugging, living out the remainder of my humble existence never knowing the cause of the overgrown skeeters in Mesquite Clear Sky, Texas.

Interestingly, Clark Brandon only directed one other film, The Last Road. Given what he does with Skeeter, this is surprising in that the work serves as a glimpse at a director’s potential as a would-be great punster who possesses a gross amount of wit and humor. Regardless, whether or not Brandon does direct another feature length production in this vein, Skeeter stands as a fun effort which is well worth your time if you are in the mood for a latter-day monster invasion which sardonically skirts the fine line between advertently bad and genuinely putrid.

-Egregious Gurnow