Class of Nuke 'Em High 2: Subhumanoid Meltdown
Alright, fellow tapeheads, dim the lights, maybe crack open a suspiciously cheap beer, and let's rewind to a time when sequels often had only the vaguest connection to their predecessors, especially when filtered through the gloriously unhinged lens of Troma Entertainment. Slide that chunky cassette into the VCR slot – clunk, whirr – because tonight, we're diving headfirst into the radioactive goo of Class of Nuke 'Em High 2: Subhumanoid Meltdown (1991). Forget continuity; this is pure, unadulterated Troma chaos served up on worn-out magnetic tape.
Return to Tromaville? Well, Kinda...
First things first: if you rented this expecting a direct follow-up to the original Class of Nuke 'Em High (1986), you might've felt a little... mutated yourself. While set in the familiar toxic waste dump-adjacent town of Tromaville (home of The Toxic Avenger!), Part 2 ditches the original cast and high school setting for Tromaville Institute of Technology (TIT... yes, really). Our hero this time is Roger Smith, played with earnest, muscle-bound gusto by the late Brick Bronsky. Bronsky, a former bodybuilder whose real name was Jeffrey Beltzner, brought a certain physical presence that felt right at home amidst the Troma anarchy; he even did stunt work for them on other pictures. Here, he navigates a plot involving the nefarious Professor Holt (Lisa Gaye – no, not the 50s starlet, a point of confusion for many renters back in the day!) and her scheme to create subservient "subhumanoids" using nuclear science gone wild. It barely makes sense, but did we ever rent a Troma film for intricate plotting?
Glorious Goop and Practical Pandemonium
Let's talk about why we really pushed play: the effects! In an era just before CGI began to smooth everything over, Nuke 'Em High 2 revels in its practical, hands-on creature work and gore. Remember those subhumanoids? Squishy, melty, vaguely reptilian things birthed from glowing green pods. They look like something you’d sculpt from leftover pizza dough and nightmares, and that’s precisely their charm. This wasn't slick Hollywood magic; this was tactile, messy, and wonderfully grotesque. There’s a certain weight and texture to these effects – the glistening slime, the chunky disintegration – that digital creations often lack. It feels made, cobbled together with passion and probably not much money, which is peak Troma.
And who could forget the giant mutant squirrel? Affectionately (or infamously) known as "Tromie," this bug-eyed, oversized rodent puppet attacks with a ferocity only possible when operated by off-screen crew members likely fueled by caffeine and sheer willpower. Is it convincing? Not remotely. Is it amazing? Absolutely. This kind of charmingly ambitious, low-budget creature feature work is a hallmark of the VHS era we celebrate here. It embodies the spirit of just going for it, regardless of resources. The film, alongside its swiftly produced sequel Class of Nuke 'Em High 3: The Good, the Bad and the Subhumanoid (shot either back-to-back or in very close proximity, a common Troma cost-saving measure), leans heavily into this kind of visual absurdity.
The Kaufman Touch and That Troma Vibe
Behind the madness, of course, is the Troma philosophy, largely driven by producer and co-writer Lloyd Kaufman. While Eric Louzil directs (he also helmed Part 3), Kaufman's fingerprints are all over this thing. The scattershot satire targeting corporate greed (the Nukamama Corporation), academic corruption, and environmental disaster is blunt, loud, and often juvenile, but it's delivered with undeniable energy. The script, credited to a small army of writers including Kaufman and Louzil, feels less like a cohesive narrative and more like a series of bizarre, loosely connected sketches glued together with bodily fluids and radioactive runoff – a testament, perhaps, to the chaotic, collaborative nature of Troma filmmaking.
The supporting cast, including Leesa Rowland as Roger's love interest Victoria, gamely throws themselves into the mayhem. Performances in Troma films often operate on a different frequency, blending sincerity with utter camp, and Nuke 'Em High 2 is no exception. Everyone seems aware of the absurdity, leaning into it rather than fighting it. It adds to the infectious, anything-goes atmosphere that made popping in a Troma tape feel like accessing a secret, weirder world late on a Friday night. I distinctly remember finding this one tucked away in the horror section of my local video store, the lurid cover art practically screaming "rent me if you dare!"
Legacy of the Meltdown
Class of Nuke 'Em High 2 wasn't exactly a critical darling, nor was it designed to be. It was pure straight-to-video fodder, designed to grab attention with its title and outrageous content. It succeeded admirably on that front, becoming a cult favourite among Troma aficionados and lovers of Z-grade cinema. It perfectly captures that specific late 80s/early 90s Troma aesthetic – a bit grimy, incredibly noisy, and packed with low-budget ambition that often outstripped its execution in the most entertaining way possible.
VHS Heaven Rating: 6/10
Justification: Look, this isn't high art. The plot is nonsensical, the acting is broad, and the production values scream "we found this camera." But for Troma fans and lovers of practical creature effects from the VHS era, it delivers exactly what it promises: radioactive monsters, cheap gore, broad satire, and that unmistakable Troma energy. Brick Bronsky makes for a likable lunk of a hero, and the sheer audacity of moments like the giant squirrel attack earn it points for pure B-movie bravado. It’s a step down from the original, perhaps, and deeply uneven, but its commitment to practical slime and schlock makes it a fun, nostalgic watch if you're in the right mood.
Final Thought: Class of Nuke 'Em High 2 is like finding a half-melted, glow-in-the-dark monster toy at the bottom of your childhood toybox – crude, maybe a little sticky, but guaranteed to spark a weirdly specific, goofy grin. It's a testament to a time when mutant mayhem felt gloriously, tangibly handmade.