*batteries not included

Synopsis: A group of tenants in an apartment block are being forced to move out so that it can be demolished. The tenants are reluctant to move, so the developers hire a local gang to 'persuade' them to leave. Fortunately, visiting alien mechanical life-forms come to town. When they befriend the tenants, the aliens use their extraterrestrial abilities to defeat the developers.
Director(s): Matthew Robbins
Production: Universal Pictures
  2 wins & 1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
6.6
Rotten Tomatoes:
60%
PG
Year:
1987
106 min
914 Views


How you doing?

What's happening?

All right.

Pick it up.

Whoa!

Look out.

Coming through.

You have to tell me

where to turn.

I knew it.

She's not here.

Frank! Sidney!

I'll try the basement.

Don't panic.

She's around here somewhere.

Faye!

Come on out!

Hey, you, you!

Hey, did you ever hear

of private property?

Just coming for

a hamburger, Pop.

You got a lot

of nerve!

Get your food

somewheres else!

Who's that?

Take off that hat so

I can get a look at you.

Here she is.

Faye!

For the love of Mike,

where you been?

You scared the living

daylights out of me!

I did the marketing.

Somebody's got to do

the marketing.

Oh.

OK, what are you

looking at?

Nothing, Pop.

Nothing.

Was that Bobby?

I think

it was Bobby.

No, dear,

it wasn't Bobby.

It was just a man.

Now, how about

I fix your breakfast?

I don't smell no bacon on.

Is this Sunday?

Monday and Tuesday

don't smell at all

because Cream of Wheat

is instant.

And it ain't Thursday.

I can smell Thursday

all the way back to Wednesday

when people put

their garbage out.

If it's Sunday,

we got to walk in the park.

Sure.

Hey, Sid.

Why don't you kids

come for a walk with us?

Yeah, sure, Faye.

That sounds great.

Get off.

Hola, Mommy.

Look.

Smell like money?

Because it is.

Aw, he didn't write.

Take it from me.

I know about this stuff.

He ain't coming back.

This is the letter

you've been waiting for.

Come on, you're

a very rich lady.

Hey, take it!

What's wrong with you?

Fresh cash money.

She doesn't believe me.

You could move

to Brooklyn.

Here.

Buy yourself a new saint.

You can

afford it now.

Room service!

It's moving day,

Picasso!

Yo, Bee.

Don't you even want

to count it?

They're paying you

to move out.

Aah! Oh!

Hey, doll.

He's not home?

How about you

move in with me?

This, uh,

place here,

it's, uh,

falling apart.

No! Don't! Get-

Aah!

Hey, Bee!

Hey, Bee?

It's us.

The knock-knock boys.

Let's punch it out

again, champ.

Round two!

How's the face, man?

You ready

for a rematch?

Yesterday,

we got rough.

Today,

we got money.

Tomorrow, you ain't gone-

There, now you got

less to move.

And here's

your prize money.

Where's the boys?

I don't hear them playing.

Bobby!

Donald!

Donald's

all grown up, Faye.

He has two kids

of his own now.

I'm a grandmother,

remember?

Oh, yeah.

Now, sit down

and finish your coffee.

But where's my Bobby?

Get out of my place,

you punks!

Mr. Riley,

it's your lucky day!

You, too, Pops.

Social security,

that's me.

Now, you move out,

you go to Miami,

you sit in the sun,

listen to Bing Crosby,

play checkers, bingo...

- We don't want any trouble, Carlos.

- Hallelujah!

- Don't touch it!

- Too late, man. She already took it.

- You're an angel, Bobby.

- I'm calling the cops!

- Faye, time for your medicine.

- Let Mama give you a pucker.

Never knew you had a mother.

Buenos dias, senora!

Shut up, Benny.

You got the idea,

right?

You take the money

and move out, OK?

Get out of my way!

Let the boy

help you.

You never give him a chance.

Bobby!

Stop calling me that!

Get her out of here.

And you-

Stay away from my wife

and this building.

You tell Lacey his money stinks!

You understand?

You kill my head, man.

Money's not

a good reason to move?

OK, here's

a good reason.

That's right, abuela.

Break it up.

Aah!

- Come on, Faye.

- Throw him out!

We'll talk about it later.

Frank!

You punks!

Take your hands

off of me!

Get out, Pop.

You're going to go bald!

You dirty bastards!

Hey, take it easy, Pop.

No!

At fine stores

everywhere.

Batteries

not included.

Lacey!

Hey, no, you don't!

Lacey, you son of a b*tch!

You're not

getting away with it!

Lacey, open up

and face me like a man!

You're not

throwing me out!

You really think that

he'd come down here?

Take the money,

Mr. Riley.

It's our last offer.

This is my place!

I grew up here, for God's sake!

What do you want us

to do, Mr. Riley?

Arrest them.

Send them up the river for life.

- I'm not scared. I'll testify.

- You know what'll happen.

They'll have 18 witnesses

saying they were somewhere else.

When they get out,

they'll come after you again.

Then patrol the neighborhood,

for crying out loud!

What neighborhood?

What the hell happened?

Mind your own business.

Wait a minute.

I live here. Upstairs.

Oh, yeah. I've seen you.

You're in Moskowitz' old place.

Mr. Baylor,

do you honestly think

I could recommend this building

for historic preservation?

Mrs. Thompson, it was

in better shape this morning.

I doubt that.

Yeah.

Look at the molding.

Look...

look at the cornice.

That's terra cotta.

Oh, you don't like ornament.

All right.

Step back here and look

at those proportionates.

- It's got style. It's got dignity.

- There's nothing left to preserve.

This one's still here.

It can be restored.

We have

a minimum standard-

that the structure

is intact and livable.

You don't

even have that.

People live here.

Not for long.

Look, you're so nervous.

I'll fix the door.

It's not the door,

Mason.

It's you.

You and your fascination

with this place.

What? I like it here.

Of course you do.

It's old and depressing.

It's reality!

This is

the eighties, Mason.

Nobody likes reality

anymore.

Why don't you admit it?

It's time to quit.

Thank you very much.

How do you know that?

You said so yourself!

You said that

you were going nowhere!

You could do analytic deconstruction,

neo-geo, hard edge.

But no, you've got to be

the Andrew Wyeth of the East Village.

Why don't you go back to your father

and sell vans or rec-vs,

or whatever they're called.

RVs.

But for God's sake,

get out of here.

And to think that

I've been telling my friends

that it's so cool

living with an artist!

You never once asked

to paint me nude!

Hey, man, stop

right here, man!

All right!

Sorry.

It's OK, Frank.

She's here.

She's been helping.

- Give it to me.

- I called Donald.

He made the arrangements.

For what?

A funeral?

We're going to Jersey.

It's a home

for senior citizens.

You took their money.

You took that

bastard's money.

There's cold cereal

in here

and a Libby's

canned fruit,

but she won't

eat the cherries.

And beans-

She just loves beans.

Frank, where's

our bags?

It's the Love Boat

to Cuba.

Shuffleboard and pineapples

filled with rum.

You know what they do?

They put paper umbrellas

sticking out the top,

so when it rains,

it don't thin out the liquor.

And here's her Enderol-

four times a day,

after meals

and at bedtime,

and her HydroDIURIL

twice a day

and don't forget.

OK, I got it.

I won't forget.

OK.

Frank...

Frank, we're tired.

It's- it's not

home anymore.

Say good-bye for us,

will you?

Hell, she won't

even know you're gone.

Come on out, Faye.

Let's do this.

Where's Muriel?

It smells like cherry cordial,

this stuff.

Muriel!

I'm Muriel now.

I'm comin' in, Faye.

Hold it,

I ain't dressed.

Get Frank.

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Mick Garris

Mick Garris (born December 4, 1951) is an American filmmaker and screenwriter born in Santa Monica, California. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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