I was a mere lad the first time I visited New York City. My family was spending the Easter holiday with friends who lived on Long Island and we took a day trip into the city. A few things stand out in my mind from that visit: giant Easter eggs, the view from the top of the Empire State Building, a mohawked street punk jumping a subway turnstile, and hordes upon hordes of homeless people. I was scared shitless the entire day. I think I was aware that there were people in this country who lived on the streets, homeless, dirty, and dressed in rags, but I had never seen such a heavy concentration of them in one place. I remember the train station floor literally covered by the bodies of sleeping homeless people. It was scary and weird and depressing.My next visit to the city was quite different. I was visiting my future in-laws in New Jersey for the first time and me and my wife took a train into New York to have lunch with a friend and see an Avenue Q matinee. I still carried with me the haunting images from my youth of streets littered with the homeless shuffling down the sidewalk in tattered shoes begging for money and screaming obscenities.
I, of course, hadn't been to New York City since its Disney-fication. Now instead of being scared of the homeless masses, I was annoyed by the non-homeless masses clogging Times Square, which has got to be one of the most annoying areas in the entire Western world (though, I do suggest walking around it on Christmas morning--it's peaceful, almost completely devoid of people). But it wasn't just Times Square--everything seemed different, in fact, I don't remember seeing more than 3 or 4 homeless people during my entire visit. There was a crazy guy in Washington Square Park who stopped by the play area for small dogs to shout about how much he "hated bitches." This new and improved, minty fresh New York City was a joy to behold, though I couldn't help but wonder what happened to all those homeless people. I like to believe that they all got jobs with the city, repairing roads and screen-printing tacky I Heart New York t-shirts. Certainly they weren't loaded onto trains and removed from the city by force...were they? I'm just asking. I haven't heard anything.
If I thought New York City was a fright fest when I visited as a boy, I would've hated to visit in 1982. Not only did you have a weird feather-haired kid walking around with a large wicker basket under his arm stalking and murdering doctors with the help of his horribly deformed brother, Manhattan was also plagued by a blood-thirsty winged serpent that may have been the second coming of the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl. Larry Cohen tells this horrifying tale in Q: The Winged Serpent, a B-grade creature feature packed full of cheesy special effects and goopy stage blood.
Shepard and Powell, of the New York City Police Department, are investigating two separate crimes: the decapitation of a randy window washer and the flaying of an unidentified man in his hotel room. The detectives have no leads (a frustrated Shepard at one point suggests that the window washer's head may have just accidentally "got loose and fell off"), but there has been talk on the streets of a giant bird snatching people off the roofs of buildings all over the city. Shepard begins some extensive research and eventually decides that both incidents are related. Meanwhile, another body shows up in the river, this one missing its heart. 
While this is going on, professional loser and recent parolee, Jimmy Quinn, hooks up with some diamond thieves, agreeing to be their wheel man and nothing more. At the scene of the crime though, he is handed a gun and forced inside with everyone else. Some shots are fired and only Jimmy gets away, a briefcase full of diamonds in his hands. Unfortunately, as I may have already mentioned, Jimmy is kind of a screw up, and he is hit by a cab as he makes his escape. The briefcase is knocked out of his hands and, I guess, someone takes off with it. Jimmy, bruised and scared, takes refuge at the top of the Chrysler Building. It is here that Jimmy makes the discovery he feels could finally turn his life around: a giant egg in a giant nest.
Quinn uses this information, first, to get the diamond thieves who were not caught by the police off his case (he tells them that he has hidden the diamonds in the Chrysler Building and leads them to their horrific deaths) and, second, to bilk the city for 1 million dollars, immunity from any crimes he may commit in the future, and exclusive rights to the winged serpent's story. The paperwork is drawn up and Quinn leads the police to Q's nest. Before he heads out to pump Quetzalcoatl full of lead, Shepard is ordered by Police Commissioner McConnell to drop the whole connection between the winged serpent and the human sacrafices. McConnell feels more comfortable sending his police force to kill a monster than a god. 
The police light Q up King Kong-style in a spectacular (and hilariously cheesy) finale. The Aztec priest running around New York sacraficing folks to keep Q happy is dealt with in much the same way as the flying lizard-bird herself (I say 'herself' because Q has laid eggs all around New York--oops, spoiler alert!). Shepard busts in on the cult leader as he is about to slice open Quinn's throat and empties his gun into the guy.
I just realized that this is the second Larry Cohen movie I've reviewed for Movie Penguin. There must be something about the guy that appeals to me. Q is a much better film than The Stuff, mostly because it doesn't try to be something more than an old-fashioned monster movie. Q is funny, bloody, and extremely well acted. David Carradine is excellent as Detective Shepard and Michael Moriarty gives a hell of a performance in a movie that probably doesn't deserve it. These naturalistic performances are what elevates Q to something more than simple schlock. Don't get me wrong, it's schlock, but schlock crafted by people who care. 
