Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Extreme Jukebox


I've stated this before in past posts pertaining to Troma- they always have been and always will be hit or miss for me. Most of their offerings (to me at least) are just throw away fare that I can live without. I was really intrigued by this one when I ran across it on Amazon Prime Video because not only do I love metal, I love metal horror movies as well. Two words: Epic Fail. On many levels. The guy on the cover with the guitar in the film looks like Bozo the Clown's evil brother. And yes, I did write that down in my notes. What else is disappointing is that this ended up being another entry for me that I only watched 45 minutes of, turned sick of it, and shut it off. What a wasted opportunity. There was a plus-there are multiple random scenes where these two guys are in a record store looking at metal vinyls and there are tons (and I mean tons) of references to some really great metal bands and albums. Other than that-flop. No life. Flatter than an anorexic chick at a pancake house.

 Yeah Jason, pick up the fucking phone.

I knew Bozo had an evil brother.

Getting stabbed in the mouth by a microphone is a pretty loud way to die.

This dude is fighting the world with a Manowar shirt on. Heh.

Record stores are never this bright inside. Never.

Sunglasses. What a beast.

I can't say that the name Jessie Cake screams heavy metal.

That's probably the fruitiest viking I've ever seen.

Murdered with a gold record. Wow. Johnny Cab finally made it.

Blandest fairy tale ever told.

Pop-Korn? Really??

That was brutal.

David Crystal is like Howard Stern, Slash and Willy Wonka all stepped into the Brundle Telepod and melded together into some weird murderer, black magic guy that I want to punch in the face.

Engine coolant. More electrolytes than Gatorade.

 Again, I was able to write all of this shit down in less than 40 minutes before I turned this disappointment off. I don't know what I was expecting, but Extreme Jukebox wasn't it. I still don't really even know where the jukebox part of the title even fits in. Maybe because, randomly, someone's finger with a black painted nail crawls up the screen and pushes a jukebox button that "changes to the next scene" or some dumb shit like that. I don't know, zits and zombies. All I know is is that if I'm looking to have a good time with a metal horror flick, Troma is in the back of the line. Now gimme yer' lunch money.  

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