Monday, August 19, 2013

The Last Exorcism Part II (2013)

Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Okay, seriously, seriously, how can anyone, with a straight face, call their movie The Last Exorcism... Part 2 ???? It's like something out of a Saturday Night Live sketch, except not really because I actually laughed. ("Samurai Delicatessen"? Are you kidding me? Eat shit.) Okay, so our main chick (whom I would just barely fuck) is (still) possessed by the Devil -- or a devil, anyway -- so in due course she's floating above her bed, her body's contorting, she's hurling people out of windows, and so on and so forth. Oh, Satan, why must you be so predictable? Honestly, Ghostbusters effectively parodied all this tired-ass crap into irrelevance back in 1984, so why are we still being subjected to it thirty years later? Is it still because the original Exorcist broke box office records and made ass-loads of money? Well guess what? Exorcists 2-4b didn't, so take the hint already, Hollywood.

L to R: Exorcists 2, 3, 4a, and 4b
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for a good, sleazy, out-of-control exorcism movie like The Tempter (1974) or The Sexorcist (also 1974; that was a good year for sleaze), but these Hollywood takes always seem to feel the need to class it all up, leading to watered-down movies just like this one that are full of missed opportunities. For example, imagine if the street performer who was made up to look like a statue had, after he talked to the main chick, turned out to be an actual statue? How freaky would that have been? Or what if the curly-haired blonde roommate had shown us her tits, possibly while masturbating? That would've been even more awesome. Seriously, the Devil is evil as fuck, so I for one expect way more from him than repeatedly staring at his mark from across the street and making a few crank phone calls. Hell, I can do that, and I've got the restraining orders to prove it. As it stands, the only cool part of this movie is the very last scene, where our fully-possessed main chick slowly drives through town, literally raising hell. Spoiler warning.

Okay, is that the Smurf, or the Molly Ringwald? Anyone?
Suggested followup: The Last Exorcism: The Final Chapter, Part 3
For more, check out my book 66.6 Absurd Movies About the Devil, available here.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

King *@#!! Frat (1979)

Most people think the 1980's were all about The Breakfast Club, Punky Brewster, and jerking it raw to Tiffany and/or Debbie Gibson (and/or Punky Brewster), but the 1980's had a dark side too, and here's a prime example: King Fucking Frat, AKA Animal House without all the subtlety and nuances. The official fraternity car sports a vanity plate that says "HEY 4Q2", a newspaper headline reads "Big Fart Contest Announced" (I think this was even front-page news), the frat guys disrupt a funeral and steal the body (also, they're pretty much responsible for killing this guy), a dick is slammed in a window, someone shoots a blow-up doll in the head with a handgun, people hurl empty kegs around like I hurl insults at the French, and the dean promises the frat brothers that "I'll see this traveling circle-jerk of yours in leg irons!" Plus a Howard the Duck t-shirt (pre-the awful movie, so still cool), some tits, and a belly dancer with a muffin top (bonus: she's ugly, too). It's juvenile, low-brow crap, and there isn't even a plot (in fact, the big climax seems to occur in the middle, twice, but both times the movie just keeps right on going), but it still effortlessly trumps sissified garbage like PCU and (ugh) Van Wilder. Seriously, did fucking Van Wilder ever kill a guy? I don't think so. In a case like this you either buy in, suck it up, and go along for the ride, or you turn in your sack and slink back home. But don't take it from me - I think this exchange from King Fucking Frat says it best:

Chick: "You're not turning into one of those jerkoffs are you?"
Supposed Identification Character: "Do I have a choice?!"
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Friday, August 16, 2013

Escape from Hell (2001)

This is a Christian movie, but Christians are big on Hell so I figured it might have some potential, like maybe the main guy, condemned to Hell for some heinous crime against God like believing in evolution or eating pork on a Wednesday or whatever, fights his way out of the fiery pits, cold-cocking demons left and right and finally blowing Satan himself away with a mega-bore rifle that shoots, I dunno, Bibles (NIV) or something. Well, the main guy does indeed go to Hell -- after pulling a Flatliners -- but he's only there for maybe ten minutes, tops. The rest is just set-up, although there are lots of clever little touches along the way, like the fact that the chick researching near-death experiences has placed a sign on the hospital roof that she changes on an irregular basis, knowing that only people experiencing a legitimate out-of-the-body experience will see it on their way to Heaven and be able to report it back to her correctly. Although my sign would've said something a lot more funny, like "You left the oven on".

"Ahhhhhhhhhgggghhhh!!! My area!"
The scenes in Hell are effectively gruesome (which is kind of surprising, since Christians generally hate violence and gore, unless they're personally inflicting it on someone else, of course), but in the end there's just too much manipulative crap, like showing the kind, loving family man condemned to Hell just because he didn't kowtow to someone else's narrow view of the universe. This, of course, is one of Christianity's classic angles: scaring you into believing in Jesus, although I have to wonder if that's what God really wants, to spend eternity surrounded by a bunch of easily-manipulated, opportunistic hypocrites? According to this movie, the answer, apparently, is yes.

Still, I did appreciate the term the researcher chick came up with to describe near-death cases where the subject imagines that they've visited Hell: "non-positive near-death experiences". Seriously, bitch should be in marketing.
For more damned good reviews (get it?), check out one of my many books, available on Amazon. 

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Unlucky Charms (2013)

Five supposed "babes" (pfft, I count one; the other four range in appearance from blandly doable to straight-up ugly, and that's being generous) are participating in what appears to be the most boring, unfocused reality show ever, until you realize that there is not a single camera, light, piece of equipment, or crew member in sight, which means that either a) these are the dumbest bitches ever, and they're all about to be sold into white slavery or b) the people who made this movie have so little respect for their audience that they can't even be bothered to half-ass it. As you probably guessed, it's the latter. The "plot", such as it is, concerns one of the judges, who's using these magically delicious (I'm assuming) charms to compel four monsters to kill the contestants so she can scarf down their souls and remain eternally young and beautiful. (One look at the skank should be ample proof that this plan isn't exactly working, but for the sake of the narrative just pretend that she doesn't immediately make your penis crawl inside your body and die, okay?) The monsters consist of a guy in a shitty cyclops mask that "blinks" via awful cartoon effects, two goons wearing goblin masks lifted from the Walgreen's Halloween aisle, and a red leprechaun suffering from what appears to be DEFCON 2-level acne. Seriously, try washing your face once in a while, you repulsive little fuck.

"Blandly doable to straight-up ugly..." How picky am I, right?
There's one funny joke ("Sorry, was that racist?"); the sole hottie shows us her tits; the ugly Asian chick shows us her fakes (they're absurd); the fat chick covers a video camera with a handkerchief to prevent the producers from hearing her (you dumb, fat bitch); and the guy playing the cyclops sports the kind of haircut that gets people disinherited and is constantly waggling his tongue around like he's still fourteen years old, working his uncle's asshole. Truly fucking terrible in every notable aspect: story, writing, logic, acting, casting, dialogue, makeup, special effects, not pissing me off... the list just goes on and on. In fact, it's a textbook example of a movie made by people who don't give a rat's ass if you're entertained or not, as long as they've already got your money. Just another infuriating example of our migration from a primarily service-based to a fully scam-based economy, where literally everything is an add-on, bait & switch, extra charge, or blatant fucking hose job. No, Target, you egg-sucking cunts, you can't swipe my driver's license so you can collect and sell my personal information. Did I say I wanted the meal, fuck-licker? Stop trying to up-sell me every goddamned time I come in and just get me the artery-clogging Big Mac I ordered. As a matter of fact, I won't pay a surcharge because I'm using a credit card, you money-grubbing, penny-pinching heeb. If you truly and honestly can't afford to keep your doors open because of a fourteen-cent Visa processing fee, maybe running a fucking business isn't part of your personal skill set, moron. And there's no such thing as "shift work disorder", you miserable pricks. It's called "being tired". STOP TRYING TO SELL ME STUPID, MADE-UP SHIT. I am so sick of your endless fucking chicanery. Fuck you, Corporate America, fuck you and die.

Of course, I probably shouldn't get too agitated in this particular case, seeing as I stole this movie via the Internet. Guess the joke's on you, assholes.
For more righteous questionable fury, check out my books at

Monday, August 5, 2013

Sierra's - don't take TELL you ask!

You know, it's bad enough that Sierra here actually wanted to own this copy of Kangaroo Jack, but to be so fucking gutter-tarded that she doesn't know the difference between the words "tell" and "until"? A chick this dumb isn't even worth the loads that are no doubt regularly blown in her face. Oh, and as an old fogey, it goes without saying that I weep for the future.

Check out my latest book here. Oh, you needn't bother, Sierra. We know you're too dumb to read.