"When you think someone is immortal—and they're not—it's a hard thing to swallow, man." – Rob Salminen

In this special episode of Celluloid Zeroes, Mike Carlon is joined by his twin brother Jimmy "Doubts" Carlon and longtime friend Rob Salminen to reflect on the passing of the immortal Hulk Hogan—wrestling icon, childhood hero, and larger-than-life figure. Together, they share deeply personal memories of how Hogan and the spectacle of 80s wrestling shaped their youth, examine the physical and emotional toll on the wrestlers of that era, and wrestle (pun intended) with what it means to say goodbye to the icons of our upbringing. Funny, heartfelt, and brutally honest—this is one for every child of the 80s.

1. Hogan as a Cultural Icon – From Rocky III to WrestleMania, the rise of Hulkamania mirrored Reagan-era America's appetite for clear heroes and villains.

2. Wrestling as Theater and Trauma – The crew reflects on the physical toll of "fake" wrestling and how many stars paid the ultimate price.

3. Nostalgia and Innocence – Remembering wrestling not just as entertainment, but as a shared experience of friendship, imagination, and youth.

4. Fading Heroes, Aging Fans – Wrestling with mortality as the larger-than-life figures of our childhood pass away—and what that says about where we are in life.

5. From Role Model to Tabloid Target – A candid discussion of Hogan's controversial moments and his attempts at redemption.

6. Why Heroes Don't Resonate Today – Examining generational shifts and why today's youth reject the clear-cut archetypes of yesteryear

Brother Jimmy and I are joined by our old friend Rob Salminen to discuss the 1989 abomination that is No Holds Barred.

What happens when you take one of the most recognizable entertainment figures of the 1980s and pair him with his boss to co-executive produce and write a movie about wrestling? Well, you don't get an Oscar winner, that is for sure.

Perhaps the best thing about this movie is the conversation it spurred about what wrestling meant to us as kids and the laughs we had while doing so.

To give a callback to a key scene in the movie, this flick is a steaming pile of dookie and worthy of the title Celluloid Zero.

When God said, "Let there be light," Chuck Norris said, "Say please!"

This is the most dangerous episode of Celluloid Zeroes as Jim and I take on a most formidable opponent—Chuck Norris. However, even Chuck can agree that 1982's Silent Rage is not his best work. He's never said as much, but actions speak louder than words and a sequel has never been made, even though the ending of this absolute zero set up a potential franchise.

While the movie is pretty terrible, it does bring us back to a simpler time when spinning back kicks are all you need to combat a psychopathic indestructible killer whose body can heal instantaneously. Also, it's always fun seeing a 1980s take on mad scientists and biker gangs (whose members look as if they all were extras in a Judas Priest video).

Listen in as Jim and I ask the big questions such as, "Who in the hell greenlit this thing?" and hypothesize the important role this movie plays in Chuck's career, which took off just a few years after this film came out. Yes, since then time has been good to Chuck Norris, even though time waits for no man (unless that man is Chuck Norris).

In this first episode of our second season, Mike and Jim discuss the 1980 comedy The Nude Bomb—the first feature film based on the 1960s TV comedy Get Smart. Original creators Mel Brooks and Buck Henry had nothing to do with this film, and it shows.

While there are are a number of funny gags in the movie, we just couldn't get behind the premise—a man clad only in pantyhose with sewing thimbles on his finger tips threatens to detonate nude bombs which basically eradicate whatever close anyone is wearing.

Despite its title, you might be surprised to know that there is zero frontal nudity in this movie. Listen in as we try to find some redeemable qualities in this certified Celluloid Zero.

On this episode of Celluloid Zeroes, brother Jimmy and I discuss the 1988 non-classic Action Jackson starring Carl Weathers in the title role of Detective Lt. Jericho "Action" Jackson. Rounding out the cast are Craig T. Nelson playing the antagonist Peter Dellaplane, whose Poltergeist money must have run out, Vanity as the love interest Sydney, who was likely using the proceeds of this film to fuel a crack habit, and Sharon Stone, whose exposed rear end in one scene was clearly shot to put other rears in theatre seats.

This movie is really one of the last of its kind. By 1988, hair metal had just peaked and was about to give way to grunge and the fast-paced unbelievable action movie was about to step aside for the rise of the romantic comedy (too bad they couldn't make When Harry Shot Sally).

While fun to watch, Action Jackson has more plot holes than the English countryside in World War II. It does, however, embrace some 80's tropes that pay homage to the genre including over the top henchmen, martial arts, one-liners, and gratuitous nudity—all which combine to make this watchable today on a nostalgic level.

This movie may not be a masterpiece, but it certainly spurred a lot of discussion and we hope you enjoy our take on Action Jackson.

This movie came out in 1979 and captures that time period in New York with fang like sharpness. Okay, maybe that's a stretch, but unlike many of the other movies we've discussed on this podcast, this one does not smell like the Volga river at low tide.

Yes this is a comedy, but as we uncover it is so much more. It is about a middle aged man, er vampire, seeking relevance. It's about a woman learning to embrace commitment. And it's about a psychiatrist looking for, well we really aren't sure what he's looking for. But he gets paid at the end so winds up happy.

Jim does not disappoint, going on a tangent about how today's culture is intent on defanging the vampires, strapping Invisilign on them, and taking away any appeal that an alpha male has. Yes, in Jim's mind there's a war on masculinity and it's always fun to hear him rant about it.

Sitting third chair in today's episode is the ever so insightful Jack Campisi, co-host of the popular podcasts Monster Men and Final Guys. Jack was fun to have on and we hope he joins us more often.

The year was 1984, Jim and I were ten years old, and our father took us to the movies to see City Heat. The two of us remember this movie as a comedic masterpiece and 36 years later we are questioning our sanity. Set towards the end of prohibition, the action takes place in Kansas City and stars two of the most well known actors of the day; Burt Reynolds and Clint Eastwood. While the movie has some great one-liners from Eastwood, they aren't enough from making this a certified Celluloid Zero.

While there's not much to discuss plot wise, Jim and I do take a walk down memory late and reminisce on seeing highly inappropriate movies with our father Don as well as his penchant for saving a buck by always buying snacks at the convenience store across the street from the movie theatre and always asking for the kid rate when buying us tickets (even after we were shaving regularly).

Happy listening!

When asked about the movie Yellowbeard, John Cleese said that it was one of the six worst movies ever made. His co-star, and fellow Monty Python Alum, Eric Idle commented that it was one of the worst films he ever made. With those endorsements from the film's stars you know you have a certified Celluloid Zero on your hands, and Yellowbeard is just that.

Jim and I first saw this move in the summer of 1983 and, looking back, our parents should have received a visit from child protective services for letting us see it. Watching this film as an adult, though, spurred some interesting and sometimes cranky-old-manish conversations around "kids these days" and why certain movies are more appealing to men than women. We also discuss why things that look good on paper, such as an all star cast of comedic geniuses, sometimes don't play out when they come together like some comedic Voltron.

This really is a movie that doesn't age well, particularly in the #MeToo era, what with all the rape jokes and all. What does age well, however, is Mike's audiobook All the F*cks I Cannot Give, narrated by the Adam Carolla Show's announcer, Mike Dawson. It's available for purchase on Audible and Amazon. Happy Listening.