Things (1993)

As an avid Bleeding Skull! fan, when they first posted the review of a film called Things, I initially thought it was the Canadian disaster from 1989. But no. I have since found out there are multitudes of horror flicks with the title Things from different years, and they are all completely different. How was the one from 1993? This question is always left up to the viewer, but I will spew my opinions. By any and all stretch of the imagination, this is not a good movie. It just isn't. But I was entertained, and that's all that matters. There are many elements that make up Things (1993)- cute 80's girls in lingerie, a jackass with a hat that calls himself "The Black Mayor", domestic abuse, plenty of violence and gore encased inside one of the absolute worst wrap-arounds for an anthology film I think I've ever sat through. This film is pretty mean spirited when you look at it from afar, but that really doesn't make this difficult to watch. It's for sure a picture you can absorb because of how utterly absurd the two stories are. If I chose which story I liked better, I would lean more towards "Thing In A Jar" just because there is more gore and more of a bizarre tone to wade through than the first offering. 

Ha, ha, ha! Dean Cain's fucking fruity brother!

These chicks are stuuuuuuuuuupid.

I can't describe how lame and awkward these guys are. I just can't.

Dingy rooms for dirty girls.

"What a fucking dump."

Who cares about Tulip-Daisy is damn hot!

Mayor Black isn't black, but he has a black hat so therefore he's Mayor Black.

A piece of shit with teeth.

Why was looking in the fridge supposed to be scary?

The Mayor bites it!

Does Leon have a tattoo on his ass?! 

If you are into SOV or just garbage horror in general, Things (1993) will whet your whistle. These are the dreams that trash cinema are made of, and this particular piece of celluloid was both highly entertaining and extremely pointless at the same time. There was absolutely nothing to pull away from this film, but these types of movies are just there to kill brain cells. They don't exist to win awards. Although this one could get one for "the most domestic violence in the span of twenty minutes" but that would just be insulting and amateur. And we don't want that. We want hot 80's girls in their underwear getting eaten by a burrito you ingested and shat out yesterday that somehow grew teeth and can crawl on the floor. That's the level we are at. That's the level we want to stay at. I want eggs and hash browns for some reason. Breakfast for all.