Deathsport

Deathsport may not be the dumbest film ever produced by New World, but it certainly does try. A threadbare, queasy mishmash of Death Race 2000, Zardoz, and Robot Monster, this is the kind of poorly written junk in which characters refuse to speak with contractions (“I can not go there, and you must not tell him or it will be terrible”), while they have apparently managed to progress technologically while regressing fashion-wise to skimpy caveman gear and silver lame pants. ’70s drive-in junkies and fans of controlled substances may find some entertainment value here, but all others should approach with caution. … While all of Roger Corman’s ’70s productions were shot for very little money, Deathsport looks more ragtag than most. Without the cheeky, gory satire of Death Race 2000, it plays far too seriously, with all of its laughs coming from the stilted dialogue, bad stunts, and punishing visual decor.