Turns out Baby Davies of It’s Alive wasn’t one of a kind. The toothy tykes are popping out all over. Almost faster than government goon squads can snuff ’em out. John Ryan returns to warn an expectant couple (Frederic Forrest and Kathleen Lloyd) about their beastly bundle of joylessness and the plot to murder it by those who fear its evolutional potential. (And/or the pharmaceutical nogoodniks anxious to dodge Johnny Law.) Being a Larry Cohen picture, this naturally lends to a high-speed chase in a rolling delivery room and all manner of deliciously deadly complications! Only Larry could suckle such a satisfying sequel from the teat of a deceptively simple premise. Conversely, the third chapter rests mostly on the quirky shoulders of CineSchlocker fave Michael Moriarty as the proud, yet terrified papa of another diaper demon that finds itself shipped off to an uninhabited island and allowed to frolic (in the Biblical sense) with its own kind. High seas hijinks ensue, of course, though Mr. Moriarty’s really treading water all by his lonesome. Bored? Try spotting Cohen’s allusions to ’80s AIDS hysteria.
One mutant breast. 32 corpses. Street brawl. Gratuitous punk rockers. Puking. Seafaring sing-along. Arm amputation. Bitch slapping. Moriarty emotes: "HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF YOU WERE BORN INTO A WORLD THAT LOOKED AT YOU AND WANTED YOU DEAD!?!"