Q The Winged Serpent
Q The Winged Serpent
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Q The Winged Serpent, New York police are bemused by a spate of reports of a giant flying lizard that has been spotted around the rooftops of New York, which they assume to be bogus until the lizard starts to eat people. An out-of-work, ex-con piano player is the only person who knows the location of the monster’s nest and is determined to turn the knowledge to his advantage, but will his gamble pay off or will he end up as lizard food?
STARS: David Carradine, Michael Moriarty, Candy Clark
93 min | Crime, Fantasy, Mystery | 1982 | Color
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Michael Moriarty excels in this terrific tongue-in-cheek horror creature feature winner
Q The Winged Serpent, An enormous Aztec bird god called Quetzalcoatl gets prayed back into existence by some deranged religious fruitcake high priest who runs around New York City skinning folks alive. Q flies around Manhattan and noshes on anyone unfortunate enough to be on a high-rise building whenever it’s on the prowl. (My favorite victim is the luscious Bobbi Burns as a foxy topless sunbather who gets snatched by Q while bagging a few rays. There’s also some pervert on an adjacent building roof getting a nice eyeful of Bobbi through his telescope; the look of startled surprise on the man’s face when Q grabs Ms. Burns is absolutely priceless!). Out to stop Q are a couple of hard-nosed homicide detectives played by Richard Roundtree (who along with John Saxon seems to portray more cops than any other actor alive) and David Carradine, who gets a rare (and wonderful) opportunity to display a wickedly acidic sense of bone-dry sardonic humor. But what really makes this flick worth seeing is a spirited, extremely vivid, and wholly riveting performance by the great Michael Moriarty as luckless, sleazy and sniveling, yet still oddly endearing two-bit hoodlum Jimmy Quinn, who discovers Q’s lair in the Crysler building and demands a million tax free dollars from oily Fun City officials in exchange for this valuable information. Whether he’s whining to his loyal, but fed-up girlfriend Joan (nicely played by Candy Clark) that maybe he’s a habitual criminal who’s seemingly incapable of going straight or singing a hilariously dreadful jazz song in a low-rent Gotham bar, Moriarty manages to make Jimmy Quinn alternately funny, pathetic, and even surprisingly poignant. Ably directed and sharply written with tongue firmly in cheek by the ever-offbeat Larry Cohen, this bang-up little beaut further benefits from a sprightly, marvelously cornball schlock horror score from Robert O. Ragland, a nifty stop-motion animation lizard beastie by David Allen, and plenty of spot-on scroungy Big Apple atmosphere. A total treat.