Aliens steal a weapon called DEATHSPHERE™, which looks like a volleyball, from a malevolent race of warmongering creeps. This becomes important when the fleeing extraterrestrials are shot down by their pig-faced pursuers and their ship crash lands on earth where a group of idiots are having a beach party. The only survivor amongst the crashed benevolent-ish aliens is a clumsy janitor named Nagillig and he’s tasked with finding the volleyball... sorry... DEATHSPHERE™ and keeping it out of the clutches of the evil Odem and his gimp-masked assistant. There’s a ponytailed scientist tracking the alien, a virginal girl and her prickish jock boyfriend (“he’s a pitcher, ya know”), spoiled Tina (it’s her beach party), a couple surfers, a nerdy cutie and some dude in a WASP shirt who constantly has his hair in his face. When a group goes off to smoke pot in an abandoned house, the evil aliens begin picking off the cast. Before that there’s a shit-ton of unfunny hijinks and aliens spying. It does pick up when the low-rent horrific elements kick in but it hits just a little too late to make it must see amateur fun. Californian accents clash with the high pitched gibberish/clucking language of the aliens bringing about an intense longing for deafness. There’s a hilarious death by immolation that I’m still laughing about, shitty digital effects randomly rear their wonderful head and the surf-rock vibes are provided by the hip sounds of Insect Surfers.
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