Burglar From Hell

 

For me, Frank The Tank very quickly became an SOV fan favorite. I almost feel like there's nothing he can't do, and do it he shall. He pisses on a dead guy in broad daylight, his weiner falls off and barrels right out of the leg of his pants, which he shrugs off and keeps on killing-the man is an undead genius in my book. I still haven't quite figured out what's up with his face constantly melting or bloating and releasing-maybe it's because he's technically a zombie and that's part of what he has to go through to live his life that way, but as long as he can curse and spout some deliciously ridiculous one-liners that are both impactful and lame in the same context, I'm forever grateful. I'm not a huge pundant for sequels, but I kind of wish that there were a Burglar From Hell 2, because that would just mean more Frank The Tank, more losers like Jake getting stabbed in the stomach with a square shovel while he's on the toilet taking the worst shit of his life and more Debbie D showing her fantastic chest. Bookie had a golden opportunity to get a piece of that illustrious pie while he was trying to help Heather study for a major test coming up in school, and he ends up sweating profusely and just chickening out. Lame. Forget the damn school work man and get'cha dick rubbed, son. I will say on more of a sour note about Burglar From Hell though is that it kind of felt really fucking slow in some spots which drug this piece down a lot, but honestly, it wasn't anywhere being enough for me to become bored or to want to start counting sheep. The pace does wave and feels uneasy here and there, but the overall experience of sitting through Burglar From Hell really was a great time.  

An old woman is out in her yard putting clothes up on the clothesline when Frank The Tank decides to show up in his car to spy on her, smoke a ciggy and talk to himself about how she's a bitch and he knows that she has money. Lots of money. Some neighborhood watch guy finds him sitting in his car and tries to convince him to leave, only resulting in good old Frank strangling him so hard that blood starts gushing everywhere out of every angle of his neck. Jesus, how much pressure do you need to exude on a dude's neck to make it bleed like that from strangulation? Frank gets into the woman's house while she's sitting in a chair doing nothing, she gets startled, he smacks her around a few times and then she blasts him in the chest with a shotgun. And he falls onto a huge white towel that wasn't on the floor a moment before so the fake blood doesn't get everywhere. The production value here is astoundingly hilarious and doesn't care at all if the audience notices because SOV's never do. They exist only to entertain, not to bring life lesson's or philosophy. The old lady buries Frank in her backyard and has a heart attack. What an opening. That's all before the credits. Get yer' snacks now because once Frank comes back, it's all shitty relationships, boobs, black magic and crusty, smelly one-liners from here on out.

That clothesline squeaks like hell.

Frank The Tank is getting fired up.

How hard do you have to squeeze a man's neck to make him bleed?

It takes some serious balls to piss on a dead man's body in broad daylight.

Don't hurt her she says. After Frank already beat her up he did.

When your girl gets pissed, just read an independent movie mag. It will make everything better.

Who even cares about living with a woman before getting married being a sin?

Wheezy, Weller and Fred. What a glorious loser trifecta.

I think your relationship does need a breather.

That kind of was like a PSA.

Jake shouldn't care-he's used to sleeping in his car and on the beach.

Jesus, Bookie is a spaz.

Zits and zombies, I forgot to even mention the whole thing with this black chick named Token that can do curses and rain dances and all of that shit. She needs everyone to fully believe in her to make this stuff work, and getting towards the end it does. She ends up cursing everyone with some stomach issue that only makes Jake have to take an insane dump for some reason, and everyone else that tagged along to rent the old lady's house for the weekend gets killed by Frank The Tank in some form or fashion. Let's be real here-Burglar From Hell is not unlike any other SOV from the 80's and 90's in the way that a lot of random shit happens, but most of it makes no sense. That's the appeal besides that do-it-yourself spirit that those people possessed and craved during those years, and I'm glad that these films are bubbling up to the surface for us to lap up. If you want to see some dude rob an old lady in a black Kool t-shirt with that logo emblazoned on the front of it in screeching early 90's hot pink, you're in luck. Have Token do some spells on you first-it might enhance the experience.   

Mini-Golf Massacre

 

Our boy Leroy gets thrown out of keeping his job at the Puttz mini-golf course because according to fat ol' Mr. Puttz, the economy can't handle him working there anymore, so off he goes to be thrown to the wolves for better food, better beer and greater opportunities. Leroy doesn't find better food but he does find some beer at the local shit-hole bar and his greater opportunity turns out to be stealing the Chucklehead mask out of Mr. Puttz's car when he shows up at that same watering hole to pick up his burger from the bartender, which leads him to going around the mini-golf course in broad daylight and snuffing people out with mini-golf clubs, his bare hands and tying one of his ex-co-workers to a chair in front of one of the ball throwing machines in the batting cages. This is absolutely the most hilarious death scene in any film that I've seen in quite some time because it is one of those moments where you just have to experience it yourself to get the full effect-especially in the flow and context of what Mini-Golf Massacre has to offer. There really isn't to much here that Mini-Golf Massacre really does have to give away in terms of pure entertainment value, but the amount of times I rolled my eyes and actually laughed out loud while this 31 minute shot on video affair from 2013 played out on my pc monitor made up for anything else it could have done better. Which, in reality, is basically everything. This is a home made, back pocket project that only a very few will be able to appreciate, and I'm proud to say that I'm one of the elite in this group when it comes to films like this that 98% of the population would just stop sitting through within the first couple of minutes.

This is one of those short films where it resides in a vortex of unbelievable reality because let's be honest-who's really going to go this nuts (or nuts at all) from being let go from a position at a mini-golf course where you're tearing tickets for kids, stocking garbage prizes behind the counter you could easily acquire at the dollar store and making sure the arcade machines are playing properly. No one. No fucking one. Except Leroy. Leroy loved his job so much that he ends up getting absolutely gassed at that shitty bar I mentioned before, and after he throws back who knows how many shots of straight potato liquor and fermented wheat (the edit for this montage of getting plastered is complete with terrible rock music and ripple effects all over the screen letting you know that he's downright schwasted) he decides the best course of action is to wait until Mr. Puttz is inside the bar so he can steal the Chucklehead mask out of his passenger seat, and makes his way back to the mini-golf course to start rampagin' and killin' innocent people that are just outside trying to have a good time. I never knew that I would enjoy watching some ass-clown with a ridiculously stupid mask whacking people with a mini-golf club, but here I am, letting you know that if you have the right mindset and the film endurance to stomach such a fucking gross turd, then you're in luck. Just don't let Rex touch the saw. No one told him he could do that.

It's just a regular day at the mini-golf course.

Mr. Puttz? This guy looks like a putz.

Get lost, creep? You should have said, "get lost, you putz."

"Who told you to touch the saw, Rex?"

"Am I driving? Of course I'm driving!" "You're driving me nuts!"

Damn that's a lot of vodka.

That bench is about to snap in half. I'm glad Mr. Puttz isn't sitting on it.

Is Mr. Puttz that much of a local celebrity that the bartender had to interrupt everyone by announcing that he's going to be coming in to get a burger over the mic at his establishment?

Mr. Chucklehead is creeping in the outhouse!

"I'm a chef, I'm a chef, I'm a chef, I'm a chef, I'm a chef..."

Rex has the shittiest fake Brooklyn accent of all time. 

I'm going to attempt a hole-in-one here zits and zombies and say that Mini-Golf Massacre is a one of a kind treat. It's a short where I feel like my life is actually a little more complete knowing that it exists, and I feel healthier having actually watched it. We all need to release some anger once in awhile because of things that are going on in our lives, and Leroy figured out a cathartic way to express that himself. Although people were killed with mini-golf clubs and speedy baseballs shot at their heads, he was still able to do it in an orderly fashion, during work hours to satisfy some customers. That's the name of the game here and just because he became a maniac with a giant golf ball head terrorizing people doesn't mean he didn't have a reason. He just really loved working at that damn mini-golf course. Oh, and Leroy is basically one of the Polonia Brothers and an over exaggerated Ray Romano had a kid. Let that sink in as you decide if you want to track this down or not. Time to sink that eagle.

L.A. Aids Jabber

 

From what I understand, L.A. Aids Jabber is more on the rarer or forgotten side of shot on video until recently since Visual Vengeance has decided to give this mess the boutique blu-ray treatment. I do not own a copy of this piece (and now that I've seen it, I'm on the fence about it) and can assure you that SOV die-hards out there are going to get their punctures from this hypodermic cringe when the time is right. The time will be right when Jeffery decides it is because he's the one going around stabbing people with needles that contain his own contaminated blood, and to be quite honest and upfront, this is a pretty unique idea for any kind of a film, let alone a shoe string budgeted affair from 1994. Most of the time with these kinds of films it's a ghost doing some weird shit or some teenagers crapping out a kitchen knife or a sledgehammer disappearing and reappearing in a corner somewhere-but not in L.A. Aids Jabber. The people involved with this flick tried to make this as real as they possibly could have, and now it's a sought after underground work that has seen the light of day on a format it has no business being printed on. The be honest, no SOV should ever make it to blu-ray and beyond because this kind of slime doesn't deserve mainstream greatness-it deserves to wallow in the musty, bizarre smelling and carpeted corners of your local mom and pop video shops of yesteryear. This is the kind of trash that makes me realize that all good things have to end at some point, even if that means getting stabbed with a needle that's infected with the eternally indestructible aids virus.

The basis of L.A. Aids Jabber starts itself off with Jeff and his girlfriend sitting in his car while she nags him every two seconds about him not listening to her, and in between that annoying non-sense, he's dealing with the fact that he's having some kind of stomach pains going on. They get pissed at each other and make a dumb comment about "living in junk food city" which could be the source of Jeffery's issues, and then they separate for the night. The next morning, Jeff decides to go to the doctor to have some tests done, and his doctor that looks like a dime store Denzel Washington lets him know that the bloodwork that was done on him confirms that he indeed does have the sweet, sweet aids virus. He becomes engulfed in rage and makes a hit list of sorts to pay back the many assholes that have wronged him over the years (he's only about 18 or 19) and the first person he calls to perform such actions on is a hooker named Tanya. Good times. He convinces her dirty ass to meet him somewhere so they can get crazy again (with no clothes on) and he proceeds to jab her in the neck with a needle that has his blood in it. What a way to spread the ultimate death. He keeps adding people to the list as he goes along as well before the reporter Judy and the cops start figuring out what's going on until they shoot his ass. Yeah, Jeff does have karma slap him in the face towards the end, but then again the universe also decided it was a good idea to give him a personal nuclear clock-the aids virus. What a shitty hand to be dealt.

Damn your girlfriend is annoying.

He's probably got the A.I.D.S.

I live in junk food city too and my stomach is pretty good 99% of the time.

How could you not believe the SOV version of Denzel Washington as a doctor.

I want to see who's on Jeff's hit list. It's gotta be a doozy.

Tighten that tourniquet you aids infected motherfucker.

Fuck the media.

People in this film have a lot of issues listening to each other while they're sitting next to each other in cars.

Holy shit, I never knew the greatest haircut a guy could ever have would be a mix between a power mullet and the A Flock of Seagulls hair-do.

No one cares about this pointless side story with this Scalia jackass.

I want to meet a guy named Rick Lizard.

Nothing is for free-especially trying to tell someone their future.

I hate to say this zits and zombies, but L.A. Aids Jabber is a purgatory flick. I'm glad I saw this before I decided to do a blind buy because I really don't think I'm going to be doing a revisit any time soon. This is for sure a solid SOV entry because of the unique idea of people being stuck and stabbed with a needle that contains aids tainted blood, but it's just not enough to warrant multiple viewings or eating up space on my shelf. I'd say that if you're curious about it, you'll have a good time. Just make sure you bring plenty of bleach and Clorox wipes to clean up the blood. And wear disposable gloves-you're going to need plenty of those. I don't blame Jeff for stabbing his boss at the furniture store though-that guy was a clownshoe. 

The Cinema Slayer Book is here!!

 

Zits and zombies, the time has finally come-my first Cinema Slayer book has been finished and unleashed! It is comprised mostly of the reviews I have splattered down on here over the last 7-8 years since I started this insanity back in 2015, and all of that work has finally been immortalized into a paperback for you all to fester over! There are newly written reviews, ones that I revisited to form new words from and plenty of other blood-soaked goodies for you all to ingest while taking in a shitty movie and gobbling up some popcorn and diabetes inducing confections that none of us should readily be eating.

This is a momentous occasion, zits and zombies-and I couldn't be more proud of you and myself for completing this monumental task. The link for the Cinema Slayer book is on the right side where everything else is displayed here, and I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you to you all. Now get back to work. You're making me nervous. 

Two Idiots From Illinois: My Interview on Instagram with Brennan Dortch

 

Two Idiots From Illinois: My Interview on Instagram with Brennan Dortch

Brennan Dortch is a raconteur man-about-town that collects comic books, horror novels and bootlegs of some of the greatest movies you've never heard of. He was also the wholesome spirit that pointed me in the direction of watching and reviewing the 1991 brain damage fueled inoculation known only as Bad Karma that dissolved my gray matter into a puddle of useless jelly and forced me to wear an adult diaper for the rest of the night until the next morning. What a harrowing experience. Join me now as I ask him some important questions about horror films, his personal hygiene and his first movie review book titled The Merits of Sin. Because we're two idiots that only live once. Just south of Shitcago. 

(Singular standing ovation complete with really loud whistling)

Cinema Slayer: Thank you for being here, Brennan. Please, have a seat-wait, you probably are seated in front of some internet connected device with a beer or a coffee. Nevermind. Okay, the first question I have to ask so we can get to it is how often do you brush your teeth and take a shower? Once a week? Once a month? Never?

Brennan Dortch: Oh, you're not gonna get me on the cleanliness factor, sir. I shower morning and night. I'd shower more if I could. That's the old construction worker in me. Shower to wake myself up and then shower when I get home to wash the stank off. Brush my teeth too, gotta brush'em. Brush'em all you can. Even when you're to drunk to remember to brush'em, you brush them damn teeth. I'm also married and really like my wife. I wouldn't do that to her.

CS: That's a good time-I would never do that to my wife either! So how did you get knee deep in the cinema sewer? Did you have some old friends help you out or did you stumble into it yourself?

BD: Growing up I was all about Godzilla and the Universal Monsters but I'd read the hell out of review books. And I kinda became obsessed with taking in as much as I could. Starting out, I'd look for the contemporary classics that were well reviewed or just spoke about fondly by the horror community. As I consumed more and more, I'd bring friends along on my movie marathons and we'd start going for shit that had cool covers. So Demons, The Burning, Oasis of the Zombies, Grim Reaper... just kind of jumping in because of the box art. Realizing that I found more joy in Oasis of the Zombies than I did in say something like A Nightmare on Elm Street, kind of put me on an unwinding spiral of looked over trash cinema. And once you get your hands on something like Things or Weasels Ripped my Flesh and fall hard for it, you chase that high for the rest of your life. Added to that, you start digging into worldwide weirdness and the floodgates open. Mexico, India, Indonesia, Hong Kong... I happily drown in their output. That sounds gross. 

CS: I will agree with you that that does sound slightly disgusting, but not any more disgusting than not showering I suppose. That is very true though, once you experience a film like Things, Sledgehammer, or even the recent one I watched that was just balls-out insanity titled Bad Karma...dear Lord! And yes, the addiction to this level of celluloid snot is real...very real.

BD: I'm so glad you got to see Bad Karma.

CS: I am too. We only have one life to live, and the best way to spend it is watching coke fueled non-sense like Bad Karma. You have mentioned to me before that you have (or had) video rental store connections. Did you work at one in the past or had friends that did? Family?

BD: I worked at Value Video, formerly Palmer Video. Huge VHS selection. It was somewhere in between a Mom and Pop shop and a video store chain. I've always said it was to big to be considered the former but there was only one location so it sure as hell wasn't the latter. Worked there out of high school because they had an adult video section and I couldn't work there before I graduated...owner's orders. Apparently you need a GED to put Ass Blasters 7 back in the correct location. Wasn't 18 yet so I have no idea.    

CS: I didn't know that porn stars were that educated-but then again, look at the level we're talking about here. Maybe you do need to graduate from high school to be able to distinguish between Ass Blasters 7 and Ass Slammers 6. I'm no expert so who knows. You also told me that Robert Z'Dar used to frequent a bar next to where you used to host film showings in the past. Did you ever actually meet him? If so, was he always plastered? That chin of his probably helped him out with the ladies, right?

BD: I could not tell you if he was plastered or not because I was already three sheets to the wind myself, but when Z'Dar walks into the establishment that you're getting drunk in, you take notice. Even if you have no idea who the fuck he is, that massive noggin' stands out. It's surprisingly a lot larger in person. The man just wanted to have some drinks, so we would just leave him alone. I was honestly like "Soultaker is awesome!" and then went about my merry way. Any other time he was in there, you just let the man drink with his buddies. He's not there to hear your take on why Maniac Cop 3 is better than 2. Nobody wants to hear that take, not even your mom. 

CS: Man, that's good-I've actually only ever seen the first Maniac Cop, so I wish I could indulge in which sequel is better, but I can't. I'll bet that head of his was massive to see in person. His parents must have been proud.

BD: I'm sure it was a point of honor in the household. Part 2 is better.

CS: What kind of schlock did you host at that place? The same kind of stuff you reviewed in your book, The Merits of Sin? Or was it something else entirely?

BD: I'd usually host one film that was considered essential cinema (Exorcist, Return of the Living Dead, etc.) and then hit them with something I wanted to share with the world as a closer (Lady Terminator, Demons 2, etc.). Get'em nice and sauced before laying out my kind of wonderful. 

CS: Makes sense-get the potential audience while they're schnockered and hit them when they least expect it. And I'm sure your viewings were wonderful. So what exactly brought you to put The Merits of Sin together? Just the build up over the years of needing to tell people about how crazy movies can actually get?

BD: I had always wanted to write a book strictly of reviews-my parents bought me a book called Terror on Tape when I was a lil' weirdo and I fell in love with the idea of just a collection of reviews on things I was interested in. As the years went on and I got into odder crap, I felt it would just be fun to collect them all in one piece, especially since I was coming across titles I had never read about. Then my buddy Reel Rat invited me to write reviews for his site (Basement on a Hill then, now it's Spook du Jour) and that just lit a fire under my ass. When he closed the site (which he has since resurrected) I figured now was as good a time as any to start working on an actual book. I mean, my reviews may not be for everyone but I knew I'd at least receive praise from my mother...so that's a win.    

CS: Getting praise from your mother is always a win-and I have to say, there were other things that lit a fire under my ass to publish my first book on Amazon, but you were it to be honest. I found out about your book from SloppySecondSales on Instagram as they posted about your book coming out, and I looked it up on Amazon right away because I'm into that sort of thing as well. Come to find out, you live here in Illinois as well and you self-published it! I literally said to myself "if this clown can do it, why can't I?" And I got to plowing through Personal Shrapnel, and now my Cinema Slayer book. So, thank you for pushing me without even realizing it my friend! So, is there another book in the works right now and if there is, when can we see it on Amazon?

BD: I'm here to make sure every other clown out there with a dream finds it in themselves to go forth and live that dream because if my dumbass can do it, anyone can do it. I'm about one hundred reviews away from having book two finished, then the editing process begins. I'm hoping it will be out by summer. And by the way, Personal Shrapnel was a wonderful experience and has me eagerly anticipating your book of reviews... I mean, that and the website but you know what I mean.

CS: Well thank you, I very much appreciate that. I feel like my writing has gotten much better even in these last six months or so since I published that so I'm hoping my review book will be a lot better than those three shorts that I wrote for Personal Shrapnel. Okay, so who has the better line-up...DC or Marvel? And Batman, Superman or Iron Man?

BD: Fuuuuuuuuuuuck! Can't I just love them both? I grew up with Marvel but I'm more into DC nowadays, but then I think on Hickman's Fantastic Four and Avengers and I'm like...this shit is awesome. I'm gonna go with DC because of The Flash, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern. There, that's my crew. And give me Batman. Better rogue's gallery.  

CS: Hell yeah, Batman all day for me. Been a huge bat-fan since as far back as I can remember! You don't rub grilled cheese into your underarms, do you? I've heard of people doing that sometimes.

BD: Oh jeez. Not since college but you know, that's the time to experiment.

CS: It's good to use different cheeses and breads to see which scents you prefer. Munster and marble rye is a good one. Name a bunch of your favorite authors and-go.

BD: Michael McDowell, Adam Nevill, Scott Snyder, Geoff Johns, Jonathan Hickman, Amanda Conner, Greg Rucka...I'm sure there's a shit-ton more but I'm pretty wretched when it comes to names and remembering things without hours to research them and I don't want to waste your time making you sit there, twiddling your thumbs as I cross reference titles and authors and comic book runs.   

CS: It's all good man-that's a bunch and they're all ones I've never heard of so I can always look them up when I have the time or after I get through all the books I just bought recently. And there's a lot of them. Twiddling my thumbs sometimes is fun though.

BD: To each their own.

CS: I just have to know though-do you have a massive warehouse connected to the side of your house where you keep all of your crap, or do you just throw everything in the corner like a normal collector does?

BD: I actually have what I have shelved. Been selling off my physical media because I just don't need it anymore. I watch the movies and move on. Don't need slipcases or 4k versions of something I've seen a dozen times. Get on with getting on. Now books are another thing. I've tried doing digital reading, but that was giving me headaches so you'll no longer find my corpse under a stack of movies. It will be under a stack of books. 

CS: I've done something similar in recent years-I used to be diehard about collecting music in the past, and my wife and I had the unfortunate incident of our basement flooding which destroyed basically all of the music I had on vinyl and cd and everything. Then I sold off what didn't get destroyed and just stuck with movies and dropped video games for the most part as well. My main collections nowadays is just movies and books. I still game, but it's on PC through Steam and that's really it unless it's something I'm really looking forward to on the Switch. What is the nuttiest film you've ever sat through?

BD: I think that honor would probably go to Bhoot Ke Pechhe Bhoot. Indian horror film from 2003 and it's fuckin' nuts. Helps that there's no subs, so it's like falling down into a pit made from the collected fever dreams of Victorian Era orphans while on LSD and getting a back massage from your favorite Justice Leaguer. There's nothing quite like it and it's even more fascinating because I saw this for the first time last year. It's going in the second book. That gives me so much hope that there's always going to be diamonds hiding out in those seemingly endless fields of feces.

CS: Man, it really sounds like I should start digging into some curry laced cinema myself-never got into it prior, but being on LSD while getting a back massage from your favorite Justice Leaguer would be one hell of an experience.

BD: Nothing like it.

CS: In The Merits of Sin you gave Nightmare Alley your lowest possible rating. Is that the shittiest film you've ever wasted your time on or is there something even worse than that out there just waiting to be discovered by normal human beings?

BD: I'd say I had more fun with that turd than anything released by Lucifer Valentine or A Baroque House. I'd throw those on my lowest ebb of the cinematic sea. More power to you if you are anything but bored by them but those vomit crusted rape fantasies just ain't my thing. But you'll be seeing a lot more low reviews in the next book. I dip my toes into some extreme horror and Tubi sure has put out some supreme sandwiches of shit lately. 

CS: I wholeheartedly agree-I think Lucifer Valentine is a hack and holds onto some serious mental issues that need to be resolved, but hey, there's something for everyone out there if you look hard enough.

BD: Well said!

CS: One of my favorite SOV flicks is The Soultangler-I've actually talked to Pat Bishow a couple of times. He's a pretty cool guy-what's your favorite SOV entry?

BD: Vampire Time Travelers will forever be my favorite. Soultangler is a magical time, though. It's pure enthusiasm without inhibition and that's what makes up the best backyard cinema.

CS: Ah, yes-Vampire Time Travelers. I have yet to witness the magic of that one.

BD: I'll be buried with that one.

CS: I think I'll probably be buried with my all time favorite which is the first Video Violence. Watched it so many times and I just can never get enough of it.

BD: It's been so long. May have to put that one on soon.

CS: Final question good sir-and this is because of where we live-Cubs, Sox, Bulls, Bears or Blackhawks? I don't give a shit because I'm not into sports but I just wanted to see what you would say.

BD: I'm not either so CM Punk. Thanks for having me and letting me waste your time!

CS: It was a good time and I'm glad I was able to do it! Talk to you again soon, son. Keep that curry spicy.

BD: Will do brother. Until next time. 

 

     

Bad Karma (1991)

 

I couldn't resist. I just couldn't resist this one. I found out about Bad Karma from 1991 through Brennan Dortch on Instagram after he had posted a random clip showcasing the insanity to come from the very beginning of this monstrosity, and he told me "it should be on Youtube, my dude." And he wasn't lying. I found it right away as if it was waiting for me right around the corner just like the Hare Krishna's do in this film. I'm not going to mince words here, zits and zombies-this thirty five minute piece can and will mutate your well being into something you never thought possible. Just describing Bad Karma as otherworldly or bat-shit nuttery is putting it lightly. I actually don't really think I have any solid words to blacksmith here that could even remotely let you know what you go through with this one-I almost don't think I could do it justice. I don't think I can do it any justice, but I'm going to try. If you're into films that devolve the very existence of human kind, like Things, Sledgehammer, Boardinghouse and any other various slime covered slabs of contained mental illness from this time period of shot on video, then I believe you may have found the king in Bad Karma. For Satan's sake there's a chainsaw named "Buttsaw" that makes an appearance and it lives up to it's name by sawing both legs off of one of the religious mooks that are terrorizing all of the main innocent people here, and it even goes up his butt and completely obliterates the expectation that it might not do so. But it does. Oh, but it does. Towards the end when all hell breaks loose and it's the Hare Krishna's battling it out with Anthony and all of his sex workers, an inbred family just randomly shows up out of nowhere to add to the confusing mess of rambunctious gore, rows of demon teeth and rotten sound effects that have already set a blitzkrieg on what precious brain cells you had left before you decided to electrify your life with such an out of this galaxy gore-fest.

An old British woman is cooking food inside of her house when a few random Hare Krishna's come-a-knocking to waste her time about their beliefs. Her son and a bunch of friends are having a cookout in the backyard, and right when the burgers start blazing on the grill, that's when this film throws your brain on there along with them. The one with glasses has gigantic Wolverine-style claws pop right out of one of his hands and just pummels the woman in the stomach with tons of washed out screams, cranberry juice level blood and pulsating flesh on the side of his face. Maybe that would be a church I could make a donation to. I have to mention the music in certain spots here because at times it's abysmally grotesque, vile and sounds like someone became obsessed with lifting and moving the needle constantly on a record as it spins on a vinyl player. Very little makes any sense here in terms of how people are killed and why and the sound design (or lack there of) is somehow perfect despite it's non-sensical nature. Now that I think about it, everything here is perfect despite it's non-sensical nature. Now I can finally breathe. I hope that this was good enough for Bad Karma. I don't need any for myself. I've had enough.

These four people should get bad karma just because of their outfits.

Shut up you old British witch and just answer the door.

This is some of the hippest 90's music I've ever heard.

Yeah, make a donation-in blood!

"Hey Dave, make mine a killer zombie!" There's a beer called killer zombie?

You literally just drank something, how the hell are you parched?

When did Hare Krishna's become so joyfully brutal?

Anthony runs an S&M spanking house. This can only get better.

"Master, I can't wear these clothes again! They make me itch like a bastard!"

Well, that chainsaw is called "Buttsaw" for a reason.

Death by desk fan!

I think my new superhero now is Mr. Whippy.

Pure... fucking... lunacy!!

"What about my girlfriend?" "I killed her first-then fucked her brains out!"

I've got nothing left, zits and zombies. Bad Karma has officially tossed my soul into the microwave and slapped the timer on high for five minutes. I truly feel irradiated after ingesting such a psychotic beast of hilarious intestines, monsters that have no explanation and audio sawblades that have shredded my pansy mortal inner-ears to the point of just wanting to go to bed for the rest of the day. And it's only four in the evening. I can't sleep for thirteen hours-that's just crazy. What's also crazy is that I watched Bad Karma. It's only thirty five minutes, but it honestly felt like fifteen. When it started it was already over and I was just left on the floor as a mangled pile of skin, bones and hot disease. This film is dangerous and goes beyond anything you may have experienced while high on shrooms or acid. As a matter of fact, the next time I watch this I should give that a try. Maybe there's a sequel hidden in there somewhere. There's only one way to find out.    

Book update #1

 

Hey, yo, woah zits and zombies-I just wanted to throw an update in your undead way for where I'm at with the Cinema Slayer book! I currently have 15 movies left on my list before I can start ripping my old reviews off of here and convert them into pages for this almighty omnibus of blood, guts and gore. And boobs. And Michelle Bauer wielding a chainsaw. As a hooker. She's always been my favorite 80's scream queen next to Linnea Quigley and probably Barbara Crampton. Or maybe Brinke Stevens. Hell, I love all of them.

I am going to take a break this morning as I am writing this to recharge a little bit so I can start re-watching what's left on my list tomorrow morning when I get my creaky ass out of bed. I'm almost forty now-I can't believe it. Why does everything have to hurt? At least it doesn't hurt when I make a tent in my pants.

That will be the pits when that starts to happen.

Anyway zits and zombies, hope your Christmas season so far has been delightful and full of Santa's ho-ho-ho-ing, riding his sleigh and stabbing people. Christmas colors are red and green, you know? Blood and vomit? God I wish I made it as a writer for my career. Then I could keep the pain inside even longer until I leave it all on the page. Or in the toilet. Which ever comes first. I'll stop now.