Biohazard (1985)

 
Directed by Fred Olen Ray

Fred Olen Ray’s Biohazard is a love letter to 1950s science fiction disguised in 1980s VHS grime—a low-budget marvel where imagination punches far above its weight class. Shot for peanuts but soaked in genre affection, this film isn't just Ray’s best work—it's a time-warped grandson of Cold War creature features, complete with rubber monsters, shady government types, and the creeping paranoia of science gone wrong.

The plot? Gloriously simple. A psychic experiment brings an alien creature to Earth, and chaos follows. But the fun isn’t in the story—it's in the texture. Ray taps into the same spirit that gave us It Came from Outer Space or The Crawling Eye, updating it with gory FX, dry humor, and a synth-heavy score that drips with analog dread.

Sure, the acting is stiff and the monster suit looks like it was stitched together at midnight by candlelight—but that’s part of the charm. There’s a tangible joy in watching filmmakers stretch every dollar to summon atmosphere, suspense, and genuine weirdness. It’s pulp cinema with soul.

Biohazard isn’t for everyone. It’s for those who miss the crackle of late-night UHF broadcasts, who cherish the hiss of cheap tapes, and who see artistry in atomic-age absurdity. In the cult canon of DIY sci-fi, this one earns its place proudly—goo, gore, grit, and all.

Verdict:
Drive-in dreams never die. They just mutate into something wonderfully strange.