Del and Mladen review ‘The Toxic Avenger’

Image courtesy of Troma Studios, Legendary Studios and Cineverse

“The Toxic Avenger” Starring Peter Dinklage as Winston Gooze, Jacob Tremblay as Wade, Taylor Paige as J.J. Doherty, Kevin Bacon as Bob Garbinger, Elijah Wood as Fritz Garbinger and others. Directed by Macon Blair. 1 hour, 40 minutes. Unrated. Theatrical release.

Plot summary: Winston Gooze is a janitor at a company called BTH, a terrible polluter that has destroyed vast swaths of the countryside with toxic chemicals. After he’s drawn into an attempt to expose BTH for its crimes and dumped into a pool of toxic waste, Winston becomes the mutated Toxic Avenger who sets out to destroy BTH and its gang of bad guys.

Spoilers: This movie was in limited release in September 2023 so the plot is already known.

Del’s take

“The Toxic Avenger” is many things at once: a grisly and outrageous yet empathetic condemnation of all things poisonous, from industrial waste to the contaminated thinking of 21^st century America. But one thing it is not:

Boring.

The minutes fly by as you cover your eyes, hold your gorge or laugh your ass off, and in the end you’ll either be onboard with this loveable band of quixotic characters or you’ll be counting the dead brain cells, as one member of our meager matinee audience announced, because there’s no middle ground with “The Toxic Avenger.”

Despite the gore, I loved it.

“The Toxic Avenger” is a Legendary Pictures remake of a 1984 Troma Entertainment production that was shown to film festival and convention audiences starting in September 2023 and thereafter. It didn’t see theatrical release because distributors considered it “unreleasable” due to the extreme gore and violence. In January of this year Cineverse acquired distribution rights and scheduled an Aug. 29 release. In its first weekend “The Toxic Avenger” has earned $1.75 million according to Weekend Box Office.

The 1984 version was written by Lloyd Kaufman, Joe Ritter and Gay Partington Terry. It was directed by Kaufman and Michael Herz for Troma. Both Kaufman and Herz were retained for the 2023 production, although Macon Blair helmed.

The movie is about greed. There. I’ve said it. The word “greed” – in all its uniquely American, dare I say Trumpian manifestations. At first glance “The Toxic Avenger” is a blunt, no-holds barred condemnation of a rapacious system that values profit above life itself. But at its heart “The Toxic Avenger” is about much more – the poverty of intellect and soul such systems inflict on their victims. In a day when the president of the United States ignores the confirmed peril of climate change, opens the nation’s treasure of natural wonders to resource exploitation, delivers America’s health resources into the hands of a lunatic, removes the guardrails that protect us from environmental contamination, dismantles the education system and replaces it with dogma and propaganda  – all in the name of profit and the wad of cash finding its way into his pocket – movies like “The Toxic Avenger” gain a timely relevance. They’re not just darkly comedic splatter films. They’re documentaries.

Peter Dinklage is a warm and sympathetic Winston Gooze, while Kevin Bacon excels in his role as the face of evil in Tromaville, N.J., where the sky is always blackened by smokestacks, the landscaped pocked with festering sores of industrial waste pools and mutated bird-like creatures struggle gamely to exist while their eggs are eaten by RFK-like nutcases living in junkyards of illegally dumped refrigerators. Also good is Elijah Wood as the Igor-like brotherly sidekick, and Julia Davis as Kissy Sturnevan, Bob Garbinger’s suck-up personal assistant. She reminded me of a buxom Kar Kar Leavitt – just a devious and dumb as her real-world counterpart.

Despite the blood, the guts, the bleak setting and the bonkers violence, there’s a beating heart to “The Toxic Avenger” that reclaims it from mere exploitation. Its thesis is that despite everything, love and family prevail, a message many of us want and need to hear as we muck about in the cesspool that has become 2025 America.

My grade for “The Toxic Avenger” is a B+. I think it’s too gory and violent for mainstream audiences, but it’s so clever and well-written that I can’t score it any lower. And, of course, I agree with its message.

 May we all grab our mops and take up the cause of The Toxic Avenger!

Mladen’s take

Not sure what Del is doing to me. We saw “The Toxic Avenger” a couple of days ago. The week before, we watched another crazy violent movie, “Nobody 2.” Is Del attempting to desensitize me to blood and guts in preparation for the collapse of the global economy and environment, so that I’m in full survival mode for the upcoming fascist‑induced Rapture?

If so, it’s working. I pretty much guffawed, chuckled, chortled, or moaned through “The Toxic Avenger” as each scene tried to exceed the one that came before with its body horror. Limbs ripped from shoulders, brain matter splatter across walls, toxic urine melting titanium. Toss in electrocution and the main bad guy’s head-first encounter with a running car engine and, well, you get the picture. Actually, no, you probably don’t. The ghastly action in this film can’t be described. It must be seen. “The Toxic Avenger” ain’t rated “unrated” for nothing.

Name the grotesqueness, this movie has it. The Toxic Avenger’s principal weapon, a green‑glow mop radiating convection currents like distant asphalt in the blazing sun, is used to commit one of the goriest bits of head splash I’ve ever seen. It’s glorious. Most terrible of all, it’s funny. The victim is a member of the sub‑clade of humanity that promotes toxic masculinity.

Even as I waited for the next bit of ultra violence or “UV,” as Alex in “A Clockwork Orange” would say, I appreciated the sardonic big-picture message flowing through “The Toxic Avenger.” Like the skin-eating alkaline slime burbling to the surface of the river in the movie, it’s clear that our whole society, culture, civilization, call it what you wish, and not just industry and government, is toxic, too. The violence people throw at each other is not a whole lot different than the violence they fling at the Outdoors.

Dinklage as The Toxic Avenger and Bacon as the desperate CEO of a failing vitamin supplements and nutrition company are very good. Some of the supporting cast do a good job but I was unimpressed with Tremblay as step‑son Wade. However, I suspect that’s because the script failed him, rather than his acting. Wade should’ve been a significant character. Instead, he seems to have been inserted as means to end, to set up the showdown between The Toxic Avenger and the CEO. How do I know? Tremblay is terrific as the autistic mathematics savant in “The Predator.” He has acting chops, no question.

A note to y’all tempted to see the movie. Don’t let the movie’s violence, despite its intense beauty, distract you from paying attention to the dialogue among characters. Also, watch for the captions that introduce sections of the dystopian town that spilled the Toxic Avenger into avenging.

“The Toxic Avenger” has merit but it’s unevenly distributed. Scenes like a penis getting whipped around or, and I can’t believe I’m writing this, breasts being flashed, are unneeded. There’s also a character, or two, that the film could’ve omitted without losing its, ah, flair. Del gave “The Toxic Avenger” a B+. For my rating, I’m deleting the “+.”

Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and writer.

Image courtesy of Silverback Films.

“David Attenborough: A Life on Our Planet” Starring David Attenborough. Directed by Alastair Fothergill, Jonathan Hughes, Keith Scholey. Rated PG. 83 minutes. Netflix.

Del’s take

The most heartbreaking moment in David Attenborough’s profound “A Life on Our Planet” takes place at about the halfway mark when we see an orangutan clinging to the shredded branch of a tree – one tree – remaining in a field of clear-cut Borneo rain forest. Surrounding this pitiful creature lies destruction – jagged stumps, mangled limbs, the earth scarred by monster bulldozers.

Gut-wrenching.

That brief snippet of video perfectly encapsulates the message of Attenborough’s documentary film about the downfall of the natural world and serves as a metaphor for the future of mankind as we greedily attack the systems that make life on Earth possible.

Attenborough has a unique perspective on this tragedy. His role as broadcast journalist and naturalist for the BBC has allowed him to see firsthand the rapid decline in animal species, the fouling of the earth and the collapse of ecosystems. As a result, “A Life on Our Planet” is “my witness statement and my vision for the future,” he says.

The first two thirds of the documentary are devoted to Attenborough’s career as a journalist-naturalist and the chilling litany of ruin and destruction he has witnessed since he began covering the “nature beat” in the 1950s. Then, the plains of Africa were covered with migrating herds of wildebeest and zebras, Antarctica was a deep-freeze of glaciers and penguins, and the oceans of the world were home to thriving coral reefs.

Compare that with today: The great herds of Africa are diminished to a trickle, with some species, like the white rhino, becoming extinct. Glacier coverage around the world has shrunk, contributing to sea level rise and the possible extinction of animals like the emperor penguin. Coral reefs are dying as the oceans heat and become more acidic.

Attenborough tries to describe the relationship that exists between mankind and nature, and how the former must be preserved if latter is to survive, then devotes the remaining third of  “A Life on Our Planet” to the steps we must take to save ourselves.

In the end, “We need to learn how to work with nature, not against it,” he says.

The film is a showcase of lush visuals, both beautiful and horrific, the yin and the yang of how beautiful our world once was and could be again, and what it is increasingly becoming.

I expect his “witness statement” will fall on deaf ears.

Forgive my cynicism, but I don’t hold much hope for the years ahead. People are disconnected from nature and cannot understand the gravity of Attenborough’s message. They conflate science with some kind of political philosophy. Any attempt to educate them only hardens their disbelief. Throw in market incentives to maintain the status quo, an unswerving refusal to limit population growth, and a rampant, voracious consumerism stoked by soulless corporate entities and you reach a future that resembles a science fiction novel where masses of uneducated savages are baking in the slums of a dead world, awaiting a final war to finish off the species.

I hope that doesn’t happen. I hope “A Life on Our Planet” creates a groundswell of support for those who are trying to solve the riddles of climate change, population growth and destruction of the natural systems that give us clean water, air to breath and food to eat. I hope to see the weather return to normal, to hear a bobwhite quail calling in the morning, to see moths orbiting the porch light.

In the time it takes you to read this review, 60 average homes’ worth of rain forest will have been cut down. That’s an area roughly the size of your neighborhood, gone forever.

Better hurry.

“A Life on Our Planet” gets an A+.

Mladen’s take

Shit, Del’s correct. By that I mean he correctly assessed the quality and importance of “David Attenborough: A Life on Our Planet” and the documentary’s likely impact on mankind’s environment-ruining behavior, as well as that I hate to admit Del is right about anything.

Attenborough is 93 years old. He walks with a slight hunch and his steps seem tentative, but the sparkle in his eyes, the pleasantness of his voice, and the lucidness of what he observes and says are unchanged. The Old Timer, who narrated such break-through documentaries as “Life on Earth,” “The Living Planet,” and “The Blue Planet,” should be heeded because he knows his stuff. His advice should be taken – reduce poverty to reduce deforestation, destruction of fisheries, obliteration of species; render one-third of the ocean’s littoral off limits to mankind; stopping buying so much crap.

It ain’t gonna happen, of course, as Del notes.

“A Life” makes the argument that mankind will go the way of the wild places it destroys, extinct, unless it starts preserving the atmosphere, the biosphere, and the geosphere. Attenborough’s storytelling is punctuated periodically with a counter that ticks off numbers such as the world population of humans and the percentage of wild places still left from the 1950s to today. Sobering. As the population of people grew, guess what happened to the extent of wild places? I’ll give you a clue. It’s what mathematicians call an inverse relationship.

One striking feature of the documentary might go unnoticed unless you’re paying attention. Attenborough never casts blame for the demise of nature at specific countries or leaders. Bollsanaro in Brazil, the feckless muther-f-er encouraging destruction of the Amazon, is not named. China and brutal, soulless Xi aren’t named for obliterating the country’s rivers. America and beyond-stupid Trump are not named for loosening environment preservation regulations and opening national parks and monuments to “mineral extraction.” Attenborough does use examples of sustainable activity such as agriculture in the Netherlands, if I recall accurately, to make the point mankind can have less impact on the air, land, and water while still enjoying a lofty lifestyle. To Attenborough, the environmental catastrophe facing Earth is caused by “us.” It is “our” problem. The problem can be stemmed only through global action requiring that “we” cooperate with each other.

“A Life” ends where it started, in Pripyat, Ukraine. This “atomgrad” of the former Soviet Union was the place where the people who operated the Chernobyl nuclear power plant lived. When Reactor Number 4 exploded in April 1986, all 50,000 of those people had to be evacuated. The city remains uninhabitable decades later. The radionuclides ejected into the air poisoned some of the world’s most productive land and water, crossing national borders all the way up to parts of North Europe. I assume that Attenborough chose to disregard the March 2011 Fukushima Daiichi three-reactor meltdown in Japan because that disaster is still in the early stages of unfolding.

Attenborough warns us that Earth will become Chernobyl writ planetary scale —uninhabitable for mankind — unless Homo sapiens initiates remediation now. The naturalist considers pollution and climate change significant contributing factors to the destruction of the outdoors, but not its root causes. Industrial agriculture, mining, and fishing; wanton consumerism; and human disconnection from land and sea are the culprits. He asserts we have stepped from nature and into a delusion: that the supply of Earth’s resources is infinite and that are always technologic solutions to problems caused by technology.

To illustrate there’s hope, Attenborough moves from talking about the Chernobyl catastrophe by walking through room after room filled with abandoned furniture, books, and toys to the outdoors. Large fauna (e.g., wolves, deer, and rare wild horses), the kinds of animals that end up dead or displaced when mankind moves in, are reclaiming Pripyat and so are flora. Trees are present in what were once courtyards. They compete for height with the desolate and deteriorating multi-story buildings that once housed tens of thousands of humans. It might be that vines growing up the walls of those buildings are helping them stay intact a little be longer. In Pripyat, it’s as though Nature had forgiven mankind and has started the hard task of re-nourishing the air, land, and water.

So, there it is in a visual nutshell. Attenborough shows that given enough time and space, the outdoors, and, as a consequence, mankind can recover.

“David Attenborough: A Life on Our Planet” gets an A+. Watch this documentary and then go plant a tree in your yard, somewhere, anywhere. Seriously.

Mladen Rudman is a former journalist and technical writer. Del Stone Jr. is a former journalist and author.

A Florida live oak at Eden Gardens State Park in Point Washington. Image courtesy of Del Stone Jr.

A wooded lot on Racetrack Road was recently cleared. A business was gained, and a couple of hundred trees were lost.

But that’s not the whole story.

A bit of smog control disappeared into the woodpile. Trees help filter pollutants from the air, which is why big cities across America are planting more and more trees within their limits. We don’t have smoke-belching factories here in Northwest Florida, but we do have cars, and cars emit pollution. Trees help clean that up.

Save a little slice of Fort Walton Beach.

The neighborhood will be a little hotter, too. Trees help regulate those torrid afternoon high temperatures by giving off water vapor through their leaves when exposed to that harsh Florida sun. And they provide shade. Now, the sun will beat down on buildings and bare ground.

Next time it rains, more soil will wash into storm drains, not just from the cleared lot but also from surrounding property. Trees help slow the velocity of raindrops, which means they cause less damage when they strike the ground. Tree roots help keep the soil in place, which slows the velocity of the water draining from the land. Now it’s more likely that after the flash showers we have around here, a torrent, not a trickle, will rush across the land.

The neighborhood will be a little noisier, too. A thick border of trees provides terrific sound insulation from the lovely clamor of tires screeching and horns honking along Racetrack Road. Now, the tumult will reach back to the businesses and families that sit on the back streets.

Northwest Florida’s natural beauty is only a pale shadow of what it once was.

The wind will blow stronger through that stretch of land. Without trees to moderate the movement of air, any of the soil left over from the gullywashers will be gone with the wind. Drivers doing the Beal Parkway Crawl past the Wal-Mart site last Saturday can tell you what that looks like: clouds of throat-parching dust sweeping across four lanes of bumper-to-bumper traffic.

And of course, a tiny oasis of life was bulldozed into history. No doubt birds and small animals inhabited that tract of woods.

And I imagine a kid or two used it to conduct imaginary explorations or Indiana Jones-style escapes into faraway lands. Every day, more places where kids are able to play and flex their minds are cut down, fenced off and built over.

I prefer change that benefits us all.

When those trees came down, a tiny percentage of carbon- and water-fixing was lost, and a tiny percentage of greenhouse gases was introduced to the atmosphere. Whether man or nature is to blame for global warming, trees help keep it in check, and this batch of trees is now lost to the cause.

It was only a small tract of land, but as you can see, it was a lot more. It was a part of an amazing machine, one that we know needs to be looked after, but don’t seem to care about.

And while this plot of land by itself won’t make any difference in the way things go, when you put all the plots of land together, you see something very big, very important, and something that will make a huge difference.

That’s the story.

This column was published in the Wednesday, June 17, 1998 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .

Image courtesy of Flickr user Gloria Manna by way of a Creative Commons license. https://www.flickr.com/photos/gloriamanna/

It’s a question of quality: The Hap-Hap-Happy News at the top of Friday’s Daily News left me with a lump in my throat.

“Economist: Emerald Coast to grow for next 15 years.”

I managed not to throw up as I read this epitaph.

It was delivered by Orlando-based economist Henry Fishkind, who predicted the Northwest Florida area would experience continued development well into the next century.

Oh joy, oh rapture.

Judging by what passes for “development” in this area, we can expect a plethora of strip shopping centers, gas/convenience stores, and fast food outlets.

This is good news – if you’re a developer, a construction worker or a taco/burger/pizza flipper. Life here along the Asphalt Coast will be splendid. The rich will get richer, and the poor will get trucked in like galley slaves to do the scutwork. Sound familiar, Destin and South Walton?

While the tiny minority that profits from this rapacious consumption clinks cocktail glasses behind the walls of “gated communities” (another word for “fortress”) the rest of us will be living in an ugly, polluted and congested hog swill that we once called “paradise.”

Somebody will surely say tome, “You got yours, and now you want to slam the door on anybody else coming here.”

Absolutely right. Truth is, you can’t put 100 people in a room that only holds 50. The 50 who got there first have every right to complain when the door isn’t shut.

The destruction of the Emerald Coast and the rise of the Asphalt Coast is a refrain heard all over this country, yet we refuse to learn that prosperity need not be a function of “growth.” Many cultures prospered without laying waste to everything around them.

What is the point of life without loveliness?

Heaven or hell? It would be nice if somebody with a sense of humor responded to our heaven-and-hell write-in being sponsored by the Lifestyle department. So far, we’ve gotten mostly Old Testament pronouncements of doom, and a couple of really bizarre letters from some nutcase in Andalusia.

C’mon, folks. We want this to be fun!

A tragedy that should have been averted: Recently four girls in New York were killed when a tree fell on their school bus.

Soon after, the Daily News received a press release from the National Arborist Association, which read:

“The recent tragedy in Laurelton, Queens, N.Y., where four girls died when a tree fell on their school bus was an accident that could have been averted had the tree received the professional care of an arborist.” The press release went on to describe all the marvelous things arborists do for people with trees.

Excuse me, but does anybody else find this press release to be a ghoulish and tasteless exploitation of an accident? Sort of like a tire manufacturer videotaping fatal accidents and saying, “They should’ve been using OUR steel-belted radials.”

Words that should be words: “Disconfect,” as in: To sterilize the piece of candy you dropped on the floor by blowing on it, assuming this will somehow “remove” all the germs.

This column was originally published in the March 19, 1997 edition of the Northwest Florida Daily News and is used with permission.

About the author:

Del Stone Jr. is a professional fiction writer. He is known primarily for his work in the contemporary dark fiction field, but has also published science fiction and contemporary fantasy. Stone’s stories, poetry and scripts have appeared in publications such as Amazing Stories, Eldritch Tales, and Bantam-Spectra’s Full Spectrum. His short fiction has been published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories XXII; Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine; the Pocket Books anthology More Phobias; the Barnes & Noble anthologies 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, Horrors! 365 Scary Stories, and 100 Astounding Little Alien Stories; the HWA anthology Psychos; and other short fiction venues, like Blood Muse, Live Without a Net, Zombiesque and Sex Macabre. Stone’s comic book debut was in the Clive Barker series of books, Hellraiser, published by Marvel/Epic and reprinted in The Best of Hellraiser anthology. He has also published stories in Penthouse Comix, and worked with artist Dave Dorman on many projects, including the illustrated novella “Roadkill,” a short story for the Andrew Vachss anthology Underground from Dark Horse, an ashcan titled “December” for Hero Illustrated, and several of Dorman’s Wasted Lands novellas and comics, such as Rail from Image and “The Uninvited.” Stone’s novel, Dead Heat, won the 1996 International Horror Guild’s award for best first novel and was a runner-up for the Bram Stoker Award. Stone has also been a finalist for the IHG award for short fiction, the British Fantasy Award for best novella, and a semifinalist for the Nebula and Writers of the Future awards. His stories have appeared in anthologies that have won the Bram Stoker Award and the World Fantasy Award. Two of his works were optioned for film, the novella “Black Tide” and short story “Crisis Line.”

Stone recently retired after a 41-year career in journalism. He won numerous awards for his work, and in 1986 was named Florida’s best columnist in his circulation division by the Florida Society of Newspaper Editors. In 2001 he received an honorable mention from the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association for his essay “When Freedom of Speech Ends” and in 2003 he was voted Best of the Best in the category of columnists by Emerald Coast Magazine. He participated in book signings and awareness campaigns, and was a guest on local television and radio programs.

As an addendum, Stone is single, kills tomatoes and morning glories with ruthless efficiency, once tied the stem of a cocktail cherry in a knot with his tongue, and carries a permanent scar on his chest after having been shot with a paintball gun. He’s in his 60s as of this writing but doesn’t look a day over 94.

Contact Del at [email protected]. He is also on Facebook, twitter, Pinterest, tumblr, TikTok, Ello and Instagram. Visit his website at delstonejr.com .