FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE – 1972
THE TURKISH DIPLOMATS PRESENT CHARMING NOISE: A MOVIE REVIEW OF “FROGS” – THE SLIMY, HOPPING APOCALYPSE YOU DIDN’T KNOW YOU NEEDED
Ladies and gentlemen, children of the swamp, and weary travelers of this strange American experiment—heed this warning. The amphibians are coming, and they are pissed.
The Turkish Diplomats—your most reliable, least stable source for filmic dissection and charming auditory chaos—have sacrificed their time, their sanity, and possibly their very souls to bring you a harrowing review of Frogs (1972), a film so aggressively terrible, so completely devoid of rational storytelling, that it may very well be an unintentional masterpiece.
Before you accuse us of frog-mongering, let’s examine the evidence: Frogs stars a young, yet already exuding raw machismo, Sam Elliott, playing a freelance photographer who finds himself trapped on a Southern plantation surrounded by the grotesque, nature-strikes-back horrors of murderous frogs. Yes, you read that correctly.
Are the frogs wielding tiny knives? Are they operating complex Rube Goldberg-esque kill machines? No. They mostly sit there, existing ominously, like small, damp aristocrats watching their human prey trip over themselves and everything else in a flailing panic. It’s a slow-burn existential nightmare in which the true horror is realizing you’ve been watching a movie where, for a full 90 minutes, amphibians barely move—AND YET, you cannot look away.
We break it all down, scene by swampy scene, on this week’s episode of The Turkish Diplomats present Charming Noise, where we dissect Frogs with the precision of a scalpel and the reckless abandon of a drunk wielding said scalpel. Was this a sly commentary on environmental collapse? A low-budget tax write-off? A fever dream someone mistook for a screenplay? We have theories, and you need to hear them.
Tune in wherever fine podcasts are distributed to the masses—Podbean, Spotify, Apple, and NOW on iHeart Radio—because someone had to watch Frogs, and you damn well owe it to yourself to hear about it.
Hop to it, folks.
END OF TRANSMISSION.