The Sand (Blood Sand)

(Requested by: Brette Cooper)

First and foremost, I would like to thank my good friend Brette Cooper for suggesting this film for me to review. Secondly, The Sand fucking sucked. I hated pretty much everything about this flick. This is another one of those low budget tirades that drains the blood from your soul and has no remorse or pity about what it has just performed. There is absolutely no character development at all to draw from, thus leaving the audience to not give any shit what-so-ever about any of the main characters that get stuck dealing with whatever the hell is supposed to be under the sand. This is going to be a little extreme, but I'll wager my entire horror collection on the theory that the director and writer for The Sand both said to each other "Hey, remember that game you used to play as a kid where the white tiles in the grocery store were safe and the colored ones were lava? Let's make a horror movie like that." Yeah. I'm pretty sure that's how the idea for this mound of ass-discharge came to be. I would love to say that the saving grace or that some entertainment value came from the fact that Jamie Kennedy played the Beach Patrol in the middle of this film randomly and made me smile-but unfortunately it didn't. He gets eaten by the sand just like everyone else does. I think I'd rather get my eyes tattooed next time I go to the shop for something new because honestly this needs to be never seen again. By anyone. 

Red Dixie cups always means it's party time.

You put your damn balls in the bag.

What the hell is that? One of Nessie's testicles?

Never walk away from a little brown shugga'.

Let's all cry and stand around while this asshole gets eaten by the sand!

"Chemicals, maybe it was chemicals." "It was the government."

Get some rest? Gilbert was sleeping in a fucking garbage can!

Why is everyone crying? What did I miss? Eh, it doesn't fucking matter anyway.

Now's not the time to be a macho prick.

I'm done with all of these people. They're all fucking stupid. I can't wait to see the ending.

What an ending it is. The resolve for this film wasn't any more gratifying than sitting through these college douche-bags getting eaten by the sand and figuring out that using pepper spray on the surface of it helped with being able to actually walk on it. There are just so many stupid moments that were supposed to be tense and suspenseful-but really just made me want to turn my oven up to 500 degrees and stick my head in it for twenty minutes. Ronnie (there's a chick named Ronnie) trying to not touch the sand while getting something out of the trunk of the car went on for way to fucking long because Chanda tried holding her hand so she could open the trunk-didn't work. She gave her a towel and tried to hold onto that while opening the trunk. Didn't work. Then Kaylee finds one of those life-saver hook things that lifeguards have at the beach. She holds it over Ronnie, she holds onto that, the towel that Chanda has and then she finally opens the goddamn trunk-as well as smashing her hand under the trunk door in the process. It felt like it took forever and it was supposed to imbue a feeling of dread to the viewer, but it made me want to light an entire cornfield on fire while humming the theme song to the show Firefly. It's absurd and I'm glad I never have to watch this piece of shit ever again. The one person I feel bad for at all in this production is Jamie Kennedy. Because at least he used to be funny.