Dickshark~ 2016, Bill Zebub, USA

And so here we are again…

Bill Zebub has again put out a movie with a title so batshit crazy that my instincts briefly had me convinced that it just had to be at least a LITTLE BIT entertaining… >sigh<…. One watch and it’s deja vu all over again, folks; Dickshark truly is the second coming of Antfarm Dickhole (REVIEW), and that’s a bad thing. Once again, this is a movie that SHOULD have been a sure thing, I mean, it’s called DICKSHARK for fuck’s sake! How could that not be good for a few laughs, at the very least?! I’ll TELL YOU how…. BILL ZEBUB, THAT’S HOW.

His hats not bad, though.

Bill Zebub is downright supernatural. He can take anything, any idea, and fuck it unwatchable with boring and pretentious bullshit. He’s like Clickbait in the form of a director, he gets your hopes up with a catchy title and an insane premise, only to then bamboozle your ass with the worst movie you’ve seen in decades (or in my case, hours). The experience of watching his movies is exactly what Charlie Brown goes through when that chick yanks the football out from in front of him at the last second, head trauma included. Fool me once, shame on you, Bill, fool me twice, shame on me. Never again, you son of a bitch.

THE PLOT~ When some creepy dude and his inexplicably attractive, alt-model type girlfriend bed down in what is probably a Holiday Inn for some red hot hanky panky, things take a turn for the worst, dickshark style. You see, this weird dude (Who I had hoped would be the star of the film because he ISN’T Bill Zebub) has stolen a mysterious bottle penis enlarging cream from his maverick scientist roommate (fucking Bill Zebub), and he has chosen right here and right now to apply this cream to his genitals. Much to his delight, it seems to take effect immediately, but it also gives his wedding tackle a “clay like” consistency, something that bothers him a lot less than it would me. “Shape it into something useful,” his girlfriend calls out. Um, alright. Naturally, he chooses to mash an incredibly crucial part of his anatomy into the shape of a fucking shark, because who wouldn’t? For reasons that are never explained (and which do not exist), this also gives his now sentient wang the behavioral characteristics of a shark, and within minutes it separates from his body and escapes, thereby becoming a small shark, and not really a dickshark at all. Over the course of the film, this creature slowly morphs into larger shark, but it’s still pretty much just a shark, albeit one that likes intercourse with human females and has multiple dong-like protrusions on it’s exterior. it’s also not in the film enough. Almost the entire movie is just director Bill Zebub, who is also the star (shocker), babbling on and on and on about who the fuck cares what as he gropes away at a slew of beautiful women who would, evidently, do just about anything to be in a movie. I’m serious, the Dickshark is almost not even in the film, it’s probably about 65% Bill Zebub babbling with secondary characters who indulge him for no reason, 25% slow motion shots of softcore sex and/or monster attacks set to shitty metal songs, and 10% other characters babbling with one another. Almost nothing of substance happens, and anything that you would hope to see in a film called ‘Dickshark‘ is here in such short supply that it doesn’t even matter. And that’s another thing, this movie is TWO AND A HALF HOURS LONG!!!! What is this, the Desolation Of Fucking Smaug!??! Zebub’s as a director is as self indulgent as they come, but making a film called “Dickshark” two and a half hours long is SO self indulgent that there should be legal ramifications. It’s so dragged out that if a competent editor got his hands on the raw footage, they could probabky craft a funny movie out of it, but that movie would last for about 4 minutes.

That was supposed to be about the plot, wasn’t it? Well, against all odds, there is a plot here, but the titular Dickshark is an afterthought in the grand scheme of things. The film is really about hubris, Zebub’s wacky, grungy, implausibly educated scientist is super irresponsible with the work he conducts, and he never acknowledges or takes seriously the consequences of his actions, even when these consequences are horribly dire for everyone around him. Ultimately, this is his undoing, but we don’t care, because Zebub can’t tell a story and really, we just want it to finally be over.

It’s worth noting that in a film about a killer penis turned shark monster, the most unrealistic thing about this movie is how freaking accommodating this universe is to the character Zebub portrays. Why would anyone like this guy? All of these films exist in a world where every patch of land, no matter filthy or out of the way, boasts an average of one nude or nearly nude woman sprawled out on a blanket or towel every eight feet, and all of these women are eager to speak to and/or be groped by Zebub for as long as he wishes. In addition to these willing females, Zebub world is also the home to a small population of males, but they exist mostly as dialogue punching bags, here to offer just enough intelligent conversation for Bill to showcase his ego, but never enough to challenge his intellect in any significant way. I don’t know what would motivate a person to craft an entirely separate universe wherein they are some sort of ultra genius, heavy metal sex god, but clearly Zebub felt he needed to do just that, and here it is… And it’s a horrible, horrible place….

According to his films, Zebub spends roughly 70 hours a week taking a knee to chat with towel lounging randos. Livin’ the dream, Bill, livin’ the dream!

And speaking of heavy metal, holy shit is there a lot of that here. Dickshark is basically just an unsolicited mix-tape made to look like a monster movie. It’s filled, start to finish, with awful, awful metal songs, each of which Zebub offers a written synopsis about at the end of the film, in an effort to further insult you with the suggestion that his taste in music may be better than yours. In fact, part of why the run time is so excruciatingly long is that these songs are so often played in full, which helps no one, least of all the audience. Dude, I LIKE metal music, but I don’t want someone else’s iPod playlist crammed down my throat, least of all Zebub’s. Sitting through these songs is a heinous chore indeed. It’s like the guy in your friend group who always wants you to watch ten minute long youtube videos that you’re not the least bit interested in. I’m like… damn, can’t I like… go to the dentist, or have a golfer whack me in the nuts with his club instead? I’d sooner die than check out these fucking bands, Bill. I’d rather be trapped in a coffin that blasts sewage stench and Babymetal tracks through hidden speakers until I clawed my own throat out and die slowly than listen to your fucking bands. For fucks sake, Bill. FUCK.

This one is really taking a lot out of me, but if we’re being fair, I think I actually like it slightly better than Antfarm Dickhole. At least Zebub is poking fun at himself more or less the entire movie- that’s not to say that it isn’t perfectly clear from the get-go that the man is a raving egomaniac, because he makes that real obvious, but he’s also apparently secure enough in his undeserved arrogance that ripping on himself in a fruitless attempt to amuse isn’t out of the question. So that’s good.

Additionally, the film benefits from a few other familiar faces, I actually caught myself feeling somewhat relieved to see actor John Giancaspro, star of Ron Atkin’s Schzophreniac: The Whore Mangler, before I realized what a truly terrible, bleak sign that was for my psyche.

This was the best and least offensive picture I could find of him with a google search… So…

I guess it’s kinda like how you would feel if you were being rounded up into some sort of torture camp with a bunch of strangers, but then you spot a guy from work that you don’t really get along with. He’s not your favorite dude, but just seeing a familiar face in a trying time is somehow comforting anyway. Plus, Giancaspro definitely gives it his all in every role he plays, so he deserves some cred.

Additionally, softcore starlet turned makeshift scream queen Erin Brown, AKA Misty Mundae,has a pretty significant role in Dickshark, and it’s kind of nice to see her.

Sure, pretend you don’t recognize her.

She’s good at what she does, she’s likable, and next to the other actors, seeing her feels like watching Meryl freakin’ Streep. While Bill really just drags the film down,  I found it a lot easier to root for these two other actors, even if I  wasn’t supposed to. Sadly, they don’t even come close to salvaging the movie as a whole,  because that’s basically impossible, but is there anything else nice that I can say about this thing? Well, it does have some nice looking girls, most of whom show plenty of skin, and I’ll admit to enjoying that. Realistically, they’re the real main attraction here, so thelat warrants a mention. Beyond that, I think there were one or two jokes that I didn’t hate, and that’s really about it. There’s really not a lot you can say about this that isn’t just ultra negative.  I mean damn, I’m trying!

I almost resent being forced to hate this movie. Are you kidding me? A movie called Dickshark? By nearly any stretch of the imagination I should be entitled to enjoy this. I really, really want to, but it’s out of my control. Billl Zebub has once against shat on birthday cakes of every man, woman, and child in the entire world. Nothing new about that.

Now, I recognize that this review has been pretty generous with the personal attacks against Mr. Zebub, and typically I try to avoid that. You might think that these jabs have been pretty tasteless and inappropriate of me, but hear me out… I do feel bad about it, but in this case… I think they’re well justified. Ya see, these movies are just drenched in Zebub’s ego, and it’s a particularly belligerent, arrogant, ugly ego, which marches right up to your face and asserts a misplaced sense of superiority in the most aggressive ways possible, and I truly believe that this needs to be a part of the conversation. It’s this element in particular that is the most detrimental to this film, and indeed, every Bill Zebub film that I have ever seen.  Now, I follow a lot of no budget directors, and I’ve seen a lot of films which objectively are pretty horrible, but if done correctly, the urge to root for the underdog kicks in, and these blemishes become endearing. This phenomenon could easily save Zebub…  if he didn’t make that completely impossible. Bill Zebub truly does believe that he’s better than you, and he make certain to say as much in every way he knows how. In order to better illustrate my point, I want to do something that I’ve never done before. Let’s take a look at the actual DVD case and Jacket design that came with my personal copy of Dickshark. Behold;


This is the DVD, in my hand. Don’t worry, I have lots of Purel, and my soul is irredeemable anyway. Now, let’s have a closer look at the cover.

You’ll notice the tagline. Yep. That’s the kind of wit you can expect from this little gem. You’ll also notice that Bill Zebub is not listed as the star of the film, thereby failing to warn us how much of his bullshit we’re going to have to deal with. Very sneaky, Bill. Okay, now, let’s move onto the back of the case.

The first thing that will catch your eye (Okay, maybe not the FIRST thing) is a warning printed in a red rectangle. It reads:

“WARNING: Contains scientific concepts, a story that makes you think, proper grammar, and boobs.”

The balls on this guy, huh? Yeah, be forewarned, this is not one of those STUPID movies like you normally watch, you idiots. This is an intellectual film about Dicksharks. There’s science and grammar in this one, and it makes you think! It makes you think “wow, how is someone who is so bad at what they do still so arrogant?” And the truth is, I don’t have the answer! We may never know.

Next we have the synopsis. It reads:

NO, this is NOT Porn! Porn does not look like this!

I remind you, this is what the back of the box looks like:

(…Let’s just continue.) If you equate nudity with porn, you are immature.  (And there’s nothing Bill Zebub, aging director of Antfarm Dickhole, hates more than immaturity. Also, is the back of your Dickshark DVD really the proper forum to call people out on their puritanical sensibilities toward sex?  There’s a time and a place, Bill. Maybe start a blog or something.)

“Dickshark” is the most absurd movie that directo (Yes, it says “Directo”) “Bill Zebub” has ever made. It combines tragedy, comedy, science fiction, exploitation, and surrealism (so do most kindergarten crayon drawings). Don’t let the vulgar title fool you. (That’s actually good advice.)

Yes, there is abundant nudity, but there is also a bizarre mixture of concepts that make for quite an experimental film. See what can happen when creativity has to replace a big budget.

So, first of all, that’s a very clumsily worded synopsis. Whoever wrote that is not a good writer. Who was it? Was it you, Bill? Because I thought you were some kind of genius. Secondly, Creativity?! Bill, if you want to overcome your financial disadvantage, how about you learn to let go of your arrogance and fucking try harder? Learn how to tell a story!  Take some classes!  Advance yourself in literally any way. Try! Are you even trying? If you are, it’s not showing up on the screen, so there’s a problem that needs to be addressed there somewhere. And how about the writing? The plot of this film is a fucking nightmare, it’s winding, boring, self indulgent, and completely pointless. It’s just a showcase for a monster that doesn’t live up to a tenth of its potential, nobody learns anything, we don’t care about anyone, and the resolution comes in the form of a brand new character who is introduced for no reason but to conclude the film. That technique is called Deus Ex Machina, and we learned why that was a lazy and poor way to write on literally the first day in my college screenwriting class.

 It’s really pretty astounding just how much of this jacket design is devoted solely to telling you that you’re stupid. The arrogance this man demonstrates is jaw dropping on its own, but when you juxtapose that with the inferiority of his work, you get into some next level shit. Again, were it not for the smugness, the self indulgence, and the apparent contempt for all non-Zebub life forms that he exudes constantly, maybe I could deal… And honestly, I want to. But Zebub just doesn’t let me. Bill… Your movies suck, these songs suck, and Dickshark sucks. Worst of all, though, it’s this is all your fault, and you’re kind of a dick about it. What makes your work so hard to enjoy isn’t the budget, it’s not the resources, it’s not the limitations facing an artist who has to struggle to hack it on his own, it’s you. There’s one thing holding your movies back, and it’s you, and you alone.

If you ever see a copy of Dickshark in real life, pick it up and put it in the trash.

Still a better movie than Sucker Punch.


more movies

Slaughtered Vomit Dolls

Slaughtered Vomit Dolls ~ 2006, Lucifer Valentine USA (TRAILER AND INTENTIONALLY OMITTED… Obviously.)


The synopsis for Slaughtered Vomit Dolls reads as such;

“Mercilessly abused by her parents and routinely molested by a deranged priest, young Angela Aberdeen (Ameara Lavey) pledges her soul to Satan in exchange for his protection and help in exacting revenge on her tormentors. But soon Angela’s pact leads her down a sinister path overflowing with blood, guts, gore and vomit. This outrageously over-the-top gross-out film from director Lucifer Valentine contains graphic images of sex and violence.

Well, sir, I have seen Slaughtered Vomit Dolls, and none of that ever happens. As a matter of fact, nothing happens! There is, in fact, no plot, and no story. ‘Lucifer Valentine’ must have forgotten to include one. Embarrassing!

Let’s get serious, Slaughtered Vomit Dolls is terrible, just terrible, horrible bull shit, as bad as a movie can be. It’s boring. It sucks. It’s the kind of loose narrative, artless garbage that anyone with a camera is capable of crafting, and which is defended as being somehow so artistic that any naysayer who didn’t like it simply must “not have understood it.” Sorry, that’s a cop out. I understand your movie, it’s just not good, I don’t need some union of the pretentious AND the ignorant trying to explain to me how I missed the boat on your puke montage. In fact, it’s worse than that.

 Slaughtered Vomit Dolls is a very frustrating film to criticize, because of it’s apparent connection to Satanism and the Church of Satan. We need to tackle that chestnut right here and now; For some reason, there are a number of self proclaimed Satanists who tend to be offended by the suggestion that this movie isn’t a masterpiece. Sorry, guys n’ gals, it may very well be the Citizen Kane of puke porn, but that’s as far as it goes. In fact, I want to you imagine something… Imagine that some Hallmark Channel movie about the life of an obscure Biblical character get’s made. The craftsmanship is lousy, the story is boring, and it’s clear that you’re not a part of the film’s target audience. Imagine that, for some reason or another, you actually watch this thing, and of course, you totally hate it. Naturally, the next thing you do is to proclaim how bad this movie sucks via your chosen social media platform, because this is 2016, and your opinion requires broadcasting to the entire globe at all times. Before you know it, you’re being blitzed by a legion of pissed off Christians, all of whom swear up and down that this movie is excellent, even though it clearly sucks. How obnoxious, right? Well, that’s exactly what we have here with these fucking Satanists. Really, it’s no different. You’ve traded one religion for another, but the behavior is identical. Let’s hammer out some truth:

Attention; Satanists, and/or self proclaimed Satanists who don’t actually understand what Satanism even is: This movie is terrible. It just is, you need to just accept that. If you want to have decent Satanic movies, then I guess you guys need to recruit more talented directors to join your flock, because this just isn’t it, man. I don’t even have a problem with Satanists, but this behavior is obnoxious. In my research, I’ve seen far too many of you defend this film by stating that”If you’re not a Satanist, you just don’t get it.” Okay… Well, I’m sorry, there’s nothing here to get. I’m glad you like your little puke movie, I hope you can all go watch it and have fun or whatever, but back here in the real world we have to have an objective means of assessing artistic merit, and your individual, ultra-niche perspective doesn’t completely rewrite the rule book. That’s just the end of it, and by any and all unbiased criteria, this thing is a complete piece of shit, end of discussion.

Now, let’s move on to hating on this thing a little more.

So, it has no story. So, what does it have? Lots of exploitative nudity, horrendous production value, fetishistic violence, and so, so much throwing up. For some reason. A lot of people throw up. Like, a lot. Also, I typically reject the term “torture porn,” but it feels appropriate here.

Slaughtered Vomit Dolls is awful. As mentioned before, it’s boring. A film that loads itself with wall to wall full blast shock value but forgets to give you a reason to give a shit can run the risk of having no one give a shit, and that’s what we have here. It’s also startlingly pretentious, but that’s sort of what you’d expect from a man cliche enough to pretend his name is ‘Lucifer Valentine.’

If you’re into psychotronic films and feel compelled to hunt down the weirdest and wildest cinema out there, please… I beg of you, DO NOT see Slaughtered Vomit Dolls as like, another mountain that you must to climb to prove your mettle. There’s nothing here to justify a viewing, and you gain nothing from enduring this. I want to explicitly discourage anyone from watching Slaughtered Vomit Dolls for any reason. Unless you’re really into vomit, I guess. Or boredom. If either of those things are just like, right up your alley, then I guess this is the movie for you. I imagine that’s a pretty small minority, however, so for everyone else, avoid.

Still a better movie than Sucker Punch.


more movies


Suicide Squad– 2016, David Ayer, USA


Here is a complete list of everything good in the 2016 super hero film Suicide Squad:

  1. Ike Barinholtz

That’s it!

Suicide Squad is a badly directed, cliche ridden piece of dreck that has so much going on, it’s never allowed to savor a single moment unless it’s also facilitating the hell out of some clumsy exposition. It’s an economy class super hero picture, there just isn’t enough time to get everything done that this film needs to do, so in true DC/Warner Bros style, it rushes its balls off, and because the powers-that-be are also inclined to pepper this rat turd with as much sugar as they can to try and compensate for its terrible blandness, they drench the fucker with liberal doses of pop music in an effort to trick you into thinking you’re having a good time- because who doesn’t like Bohemian Rhapsody? The end result is, in no uncertain terms, a montage. A badly made, two hour music montage, smeared with fan service, and Margot Robbie’s butt, and it fucking sucks. One really gets the impression that David Ayer might make a mean mix CD, but he really shouldn’t be directing motion pictures.

Or writing, them, while we’re on the topic- in addition to being in far too much of a hurry, this thing is badly plotted and embarrassingly derivative. The dialogue is just start to finish cringe worthy, rivaling B-movies of the 1950’s in how ham fisted and stilted it is. And even worse, because Suicide Squad is so uncomfortably compressed, basically every awkward line is 100% necessary to advance the plot. There’s no garnish, this is all load-bearing structure style dialogue, and if they cut one more line the damn pictures caves in and the plot become lost- and what a plot it is! This is pretty much just a rehashing of Escape From New York, The Dirty Dozen, and Ghostbusters, but with shitty third string DC characters nobody cares about. In summary; horrible movie, good soundtrack, fan service, Margot Robbie’s butt. What a shitshow.

And it’s just sad. How is it that DC/Warner Bros just CANNOT figure this out? They have every advantage- a hungry, desperate and unfailingly forgiving fanbase that would happily bend over backwards to enjoy one of these pictures if only they could, two full length motions pictures worth of trial and error, complete with detailed feedback from fans and critics alike to help them hammer this fucker into shape, and the invaluable work done by rival studio Marvel, which not only gave them years worth of examples on how to do this the right way (although clearly nobody at DC/Warner were taking notes), but also already did the heavy lifting in training a global audience on how to understand and accept something as radical as a shared, expansive, multi-franchise cinematic universe for comic book superheroes, and that’s actually huge. Basically, all the hard work has already been done by the competition, and DC/Warner Bros have been given a product that millions of people are ravenous for. Yet still, here we are, having this same old conversation. DC! WARNER! You can’t squeak out ONE passable 90 minute movie? These people are FAST running out of excuses. DC/Warner Bros are basically the kid in T-Ball that is just NEVER gonna hit that ball, no matter how many free swings you give him. These people are hopeless, and it’s not even fun ripping on them anymore.

One more dig before I go- WOW. Cara Delevingne is a truly HORRIBLE actress. Like, way bad. I laughed inadvertently more than once at her, and she is NEVER supposed to be funny in this film. I felt bad when it happened, but it just flew out. Who gave her this part?! How does this happen?

But you know what- since I’m such a sweetheart, I’ll admit that Captain Boomerang and Diablo actually had their moments. They weren’t as good as Ike Barinholtz, but they weren’t bad.

The Joker, though… Yeah. Everyone wants this to be some revelation because this character has such a rich lineage of big screen (and small screen) performances, but it’s just not in the cards this time around. This is, no question, the worst live action attempt at portraying the character yet. It’s uninspired and lame. Dude, psychopaths don’t tattoo “damaged” on their foreheads, Juggalos do. I’d call this pandering, except that in order to pander, you have to be dumbing down your product to meet the demand of a clientele which is less intelligent than you are. In this instance,I think it’s the other way around.

Suicide Squad is DC’s third strike. This thing fucking sucks.

more movies


Terminator Genisys ~ 2015, Alan Taylor, USA


According to renown Cambridge Geneticist Aubrey de Grey, if advancements in medical science continue at the rate they have in recent history, the first human being who will live to reach the age of 1,000 is currently alive, somewhere in the world, today. It’s admittedly a controversial statement, but if this theory proves to be true, it would be nothing less than astounding. We don’t know who this person is, or where they will come from, but we do know one thing for certain; even with a lifespan well in excess of fourteen times the current average, this human being does not have enough time on Earth to justify wasting the two hours and five minutes it would take to watch Terminator Genisys, from start, to finish. No one does.

THE PLOT~ No. Fuck you. We’re not doing that. The plot here is not worth summarizing, it’s like most time travel films, clumsy, convoluted, and full of fucking holes. One difference, however, is that where most time travel movies have a written in complexity meant to keep the story interesting, or to distract from a weak narrative, the convoluted plot here is clearly crafted to serve one single, ultimate purpose: to explain just why in the hell Arnold Schwarzenegger is so freaking old. He’s a robot, why would a robot age?

TERMINATOR-GENISYS-7Will the King of One-Liners soon be adding “Help, I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up!” to his repertoire?

Paramount knew that the one and only reason they had to put this film into production was that they had Arnold back, at long last, so they go to great lengths to justify how unkind the years have been to him, and even with all the work they do, it still doesn’t really make sense. It’s dumb, but we could forgive it super easily if Genisys was at least entertaining… And it’s not. This film does nothing to numb the pain, it’s a shit show, plain and simple, and all the nostalgia in the world can’t keep it afloat. Please… I beg of you…. BELIEVE me when I say that I WANTED to love Arnold’s return to the Terminator franchise. I really did… But not like this… I never wanted this.

And who would!?!? Whoever asked for a soft reboot, PG-13 Terminator movie with an evil John Connor, a clueless Kyle Reese, an obnoxious know-it-all Sarah Connor, and an elderly old Terminator who learns how to love? Did anyone NOT try to kill themselves as they read this paragraph!?

Yeah, the Terminator in this movie is a good guy again. He shows up in the distant past and raises an orphaned Sarah Connor (for some reason?), who affectionately calls him “Pops,” like he’s her damn dad. (He’s a robot skeleton from the future designed to murder people, remember.) There’s a shit load of horrible dialogue in this film about Pops struggling to comprehend human emotions, and it helps to make the film about as much fun to watch as that shot in Home Alone where Marv steps on the nail.

Here’s a few groan-worthy lines I took the liberty of writing down:

SARAH CONNOR: “It isn’t just mating, I’m supposed to fall in love with him!”
TERMINATOR: “My files do not deal with love.”

(Sarah hugs The Terminator)
TERMINATOR: A meaningless gesture. Why hold onto someone when you know you must let them go?

SARAH CONNOR: The girl you came to save? She’s gone! I don’t need saving!

And of course, the new Terminator catchphrase:
TERMINATOR: Old- not obsolete.

Pretty bad, huh? Those are all real.

It also tries to be funny far more often than is appropriate, and it succeeds never. Really, there isn’t anything here that isn’t a complete failure, aside from the special effects, which are fine. There really couldn’t be a better example of the “Lipstick on a pig” phenomena at play, however, you can jazz a turd up with glitzy CG all you want, the end result is just a fancier, more expensive turd. That’s really all this movie is; a heinous, unwanted, unworthy turd, caked in glitter and lipstick. This is the kind of movie that actor’s leave off of their resumes. May it rot in hell.


more movies


Things – 1989, Andrew Jordan, Canada


Things is what I like to call a “worst case scenario movie”…


I’m sure you can see what I mean.

…Because at the end of the day, a movie is just the culmination of countless decisions; some large, and some tiny, but all important in one way or another. Everything from “What’s the movie about” to “what ‘door slam’ sound effect do I want to use in this scene?”, each and every one of these choices must be made, and all have some measurable impact on the finished product.

Now, a “worst case scenario” movie happens when every single decision made throughout the entire process was 100% wrong, but somehow, the movie just exists anyway. It’s hard to accept, but this IS possible; somehow, in isolated cases, people have been able to finish an entire film and never once make the right call on any single decision throughout the entire process, start to finish. It does happen, my friends, and it DID happen; with Things.

Things Gillis Intervision Picture Corp DVD 13People like to throw around the term “worst movie of all time” an awful lot these days, and by now, the phrase has become so overused that a lot of it’s impact is sorta lost, but Things absolutely is one of the worst movies ever, and it always will be. This isn’t so much a feature film, it’s more a case of people standing in front of a camera correctly. Not well, mind you, but they are in front of a camera, so if it’s a pass/fail, they pass.

THE PLOT~ Some dude’s wife can’t get pregnant, so they attempt some sort of experimental, artificial insemination procedure, and as a result, she births a litter of murder bugs. So far so good, right? Well, that’s where the good news stops. After that, we are immediately thrown into a universe where two morons drink beer and act like unintelligent, aimlessly hostile children for an eternity while absolutely nothing ever happens, and absolutely no one reacts to anything, ever.

things-01Acting is reacting? Think again. Things is here to refute that hypothesis.

Periodically, there is news footage intercut with our “narrative,” but like the rest of the film, these are both stupid, and entirely incoherent. People do eventually die, but it fucking sucks so hard, and it takes a thousand years before anything happens. If you accidently hit “record” on your smartphone while it sits around in your pocket for 90 minutes, there’s a strong likelihood that the result will be a more entertaining, and more artistically valid film than this one.

things-2It’s basically this for two hours.

You should see the notes I took for this review; they go on for pages and pages, and while I could probably write a five thousand word review outlining just a couple highlights, it feels like a bad use of my time. The truth is, every critic in the world could go at this film full blast until they collapse from exhaustion and still not even scratch the surface. It is, simply put, as bad as a movie could possibly be. I can’t imagine how this film wasn’t just thrown right into the garbage the first time someone watched it.

163837420_640I’m all for the preservation of art, but this film just screams “destroy me.”

Movies aren’t easy to make, I acknowledge that. Actually, in my mind, that just makes this whole thing even more confusing. How could anyone be capable of actually creating an entire film and still lack even the most basic grasp of what a film should be? It’s a mother f’in’ enigma, you guys. Seriously, NOTHING in Things is done right, well, or even good enough. This movie is, and I speak with complete conviction, one of the single worst movies ever made. Probably in the top five, maybe the top three. Frankly, I don’t expect this title belt to be challenged anytime soon, and probably the worst thing about it is that is isn’t even fun. When we watch other worse case scenario films, like Birdemic, or The Room, we laugh…. When we watch Things, we groan. My recommendation is to avoid this travesty at all costs, for it is terrible… so, so very terrible.

Still a better movie than Sucker Punch.


more movies


3 Dev Adam (3 Mighty Men) ~ 1973, T. Fikret Uçak

3-dev-adam (2)At the time of my writing this, movie goers everywhere are buzzing with excitement for Marvel’s forthcoming franchise blockbuster event: Captain America: Civil War, which will introduce a brand new Spider-Man into the Marvel cinematic universe. This is a major event for nerd culture, and one which was thought impossible only a few short years ago, since Sony still owns the rights to Spidey and, until recently, showed no intention of ever releasing him. Today, this event is being viewed as an exciting and historic first for Marvel’s admirably sucesful foray into major motion pictures, but in all actuality, it isn’t really a first at all. That’s right, Captain America and Spider-Man have shared the silver screen before, way back in 1973, and all it took to make it happen was Turkey’s legendary disregard for international copyright law. BEHOLD;  3 DEV ADAM, or, in English; 3 MIGHTY MEN, a film featuring Spider-Man, Captain America, and Santo! (Batman was busy, presumably.)


So, yeah. Turkey strikes again. I’m sure some of you are wondering who the hell Santo is; so I’ll quickly fill you in. Santo is (was?) an incredibly popular wrestler and movie star from Mexico; his career spanned decades, and included toys, comic books, movies, and countless live appearances as he bounded about on stage, wrasslin’ bros, Mexican WWE style. He really was a huge star south of the border, and, apparently a big enough deal in Turkey for them to plagiarize the fuck out of him left right and center for their shitty Cap VS Spidey debacle. Which is what we’re talking about today. Oh boy!

3-dev-adam (1)

Oh boy!

THE PLOT~ Spider-Man, here seen to be a homicidal gangster with a pot belly, has launched an international antique smuggling crime ring, because apparently Peter Parker is actually a huge dick. When we join our program already in progress, Spidey and his gang have already run amok in the United States and Mexico, and have now set up shop in Istanbul, Turkey, where every man, woman and child is a dead ringer for 1970’s Tony Iommi.

97266This is the picture on every driver’s license in Turkey, they just crop the guitar out.

High on justice and hell-bent on avenging the defrauded Antique enthusiasts of North and Central America, Captain America and Santo join forces and travel to Turkey, where they work tirelessly with local law enforcement to bring an ass kicking down upon Spider-Man’s head the likes of which I can’t even imagine. Can they succeed in their quest? Would you care either way? How can the people who made this film sleep at night? Only some of these questions have answers, and really, none of them are worth investigating.


Unsurprisingly, everything in this movie sucks wildly, and in a way that isn’t even funny. The Captain America of 3 Dev Adam is a grizzled, sun ravaged, Tony Iommi looking guy with no shield, who clumsily kicks the shit out of everyone he meets, day and night. Shockingly enough, whatever bozo they got to play Santo is actually in better physical condition than the real Santo, who was always more potato shaped, but his feathered mullet pokes out the back of his Santo mask like a rat tail, meaning that as buff as he is, he still screws up the one job he had. Spidey, of course, makes out worst of all. Not only is he the villain, he’s an especially vile and ruthless villain, and his only super power is a completely unexplained ability to clone himself. Yeah, the first time this happens there’s literally no setup for it, which leads to a seriously confusing fight scene. Ah, Turkey. Why you do this?


So, yeah. This movie happened, it’s totally horrible, and anyone attached to its production should be ashamed. 3 Dev Adam sucks in a way that only an illegal Turkish depiction of your favorite heroes really can, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it now. This IS the REAL first appearance of these two iconic Marvel characters in one single motion picture (that I know of!), but the best thing I can say about 3 Dev Adam is that you are in no way obligated to watch it, ever.


“Adios, Mafia!” (Actual quote from the movie.)


more movies


Jaws: The Revenge ~ 1987, Joseph Sargent, USA


In 1975, Universal Studios unleashed Jaws, a film which is almost universally regarded by historians to be the first ever legitimate Hollywood Blockbuster. To call this movie a success would be an understatement, Jaws was a phenomenon. It broke records, made Steven Spielberg a household name, and forever changed the nature of the Motion Picture Industry (arguably for the worse). Today, even the most obstinate of film snobs will likely concede that Jaws is, indeed, a true American classic.

Really, that would have been an excellent place to stop…

But, of course… They kept going. By 1987, we were four movies deep, and so far down the rabbit hole that even plain old common sense was a long forgotten relic of a better time. Jaws: The Revenge is such a terrible sequel that is ended the franchise dead in it’s tracks and remains an embarrassment to this day. This thing freaking sucks.

THE PLOT~ Lorraine Gary returns as ELLEN BRODY; the wife of Roy Scheider’s character from Jaws 1 & 2. In Jaws: THE REVENGE, Ellen becomes convinced that a great white shark has targeted her family for revenge, AND SHE’S FREAKING RIGHT. We learn early on that Mr. Brody is, at this point, long deceased, having died of a shark related heart attack sometime after Jaws 2. Next in line was their youngest son, who is murderously gobbled to death in an inadvertently hilarious sequence early on in the film. This is enough to seriously bum the Mother Brody out, and so her eldest son convinces her to come and visit his family in the Bahamas, where he is studying marine biology. She flips out, and tells him “ain’t no way no son of mine is going into the ocean, because Jaws Jr. is comin’, and he wants all of us Brodys dead!” So then, her son is all “listen, mom, sharks don’t go to the Bahamas, ever, because it’s too warm. They don’t like it.” This calms her down, and for a while she even manages to put her crippling shark phobia aside, partially because she’s super distracted by Michael Caine, who plays a charming English pilot/compulsive gambler who is also bumming around the Bahamas. Things seems dandy, for a time, but Ellen was wrong to let her guard down- because check it out, Jaws Jr. shows up after all, and he’s eager to munch down some Brodys. Literally, that’s the story… So, it’s like a multi-generational family fued at this point, kinda like the Hatfields and the McCoys… Only… it’s the Brodys, and a bunch of freaking sharks.

Obviously, these are all just horrible, horrible ideas.

The production itself isn’t really an issue in Jaws: the Revenge, that aspect of the film is competent (although if you thought the shark looked fake back in the original, holy shit, buckle up, folks), it’s the film’s premise that kills it. This movie is a collection of ideas so blatantly, obviously, obnoxiously terrible that it’s kind of amazing it even exists at all. How mindlessly, voraciously hungry for money could Universal have possibly been?!?

The following is a list of jaw dropping bullshit you will see if you ever make the tragically poor decision to give Jaws: The Revenge 90 minutes of your life:

1. Firstly, yes, this shark has a personal vendetta against the Brody family, it follows them from Amity to the Bahamas, and strategically seeks them out, for the purpose of murdering them… Presumably for vengeance. How does it know where they are? Magic. For real.

2. On a boat? Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re any more protected from Shark-Death. That’s like a plate for Jaws Jr. Actually, you might be LESS safe than if you were just in the water, more than a few people manage to just flat out swim away from this damn fish, but he plucks folks off of boats like they were freaking snack platters.

3. Ellen Brody develops a psychic mind link to Jaws Jr., and can predict when he is going to strike, and also when he is near. I shit you not, that’s actually in the movie. If they had made a fifth Jaws film, and continued along this trajectory, it would be focused on Jaws Jr. being forced to join forces with Robo-Brody on an adventure back in time to stop aliens from stealing a giant crystal from the center of the Earth, but it also would be rendered unwatchable after the producers accidently destroyed the negatives by doing lines of cocaine off of them.

4. This shark screams like a dragon when it’s in pain. I’m no marine biologist, but I’m pretty sure sharks can’t roar. Am I wrong? It feels stupid when it happens, I do know that.

5. Michael Caine, who is the only good thing in this movie, plays a character CALLED HOAGIE! And he survives. Yes, the character who is actually named after a sandwhich DOESN’T get eaten. So, what’s the deal with the name, is that like, a red herring or something?

6. At the end of the film, Ellen steers the boat directly into Jaws Jr., who, for some reason, fucking explodes- and not like a person would explode when hit by a train, he explodes like a damn grenade.

And much, much more.

Jaws: The Revenge defies basic logic at every turn, and it’s such an enormous jump from the tone of the original that I can’t believe it’s real. Based on the evidence available to me, I’m forced to conclude that this movie enterered production at the nexus of insatiable greed, and crippling mental illness. In this dark cauldron, the worst Jaws movie ever was forged, and it feels like the horrifying fever dream of a psychopath who grew up in a virtual reality environment, and who therefore never actually had to contend with the laws of the natural world. Unsurprisingly, it’s this same illogical, rambling mess of a narrative that makes this tragedy somehow more entertaining than Jaws 2 and 3, so in some sick, perverse way, I recommend this one over those two snooze-fests. Even so, this thing is flat out dangerous dangerous, and is not to be watched at all, unless you really have nothing left to live for. Jaws: The Revenge doesn’t just need to be forgotten, it needs to be quarantined.



Resident Evil: Apocalypse!

Resident Evil: Apocalypse ~ 2004, Alexander Witt (written by Paul W.S. Anderson- Boo!)


What happens when you take a step down from terrible? Sometimes it seems like it would just be easier to make a good movie. Have we not yet hit rock bottom? Is it even possible to make a worse movie than we are already used to?! Today; the race to be the biggest idiot possible is a dangerous, fast paced, highly competitive arena. Trend setters in every avenue of the human experience anxiously push the limits of how stupid they can be, and no other field of human accomplishment shows as much innovation, or as much tireless zest.


In film, this competition is especially fierce. Titans of incompetence like James Nguyen, Tommy Wiseau, and Michael Bay loom formidably in the distance, unreachable points on the horizon. Yet, even now, courageous idiots dauntlessly strive to reach new levels of ineptitude. Take Alexander Witt, director of Resident Evil: Apocalypse. Just as Paul W.S. Anderson had established himself as a rampaging juggernaut of utter tripe, Witt steps up to the plate and boldly agrees to follow in Anderson’s footsteps with a sequel to Resident Evil. In so doing, he somehow manages to craft a film which is stupid in striking, unexpected new ways. Now, Witt joins with Paul W.S. Anderson and company, themselves the NASA of stupid bullshit, on a quest to dumb down the human race to the utmost of their abilities. Nobody else can suck as reliably, and with such fevered enthusiasm as these guys can. They are truly pioneers on the very boundary of what we as humans dream we can achieve.

THE PLOT~ Following the events of Resident Evil, zombies have infested Racoon City. A number of adults of bellow average intelligence fight to escape, including:

1. Alice- Milla Jovovich’s character. She’s horrible. Who cares? She ends up being a mutant.
2. Some mercenaries- Whatever.
3. A super racist portrayal of a black man – “Please, mutha fucka, my shit is custom!” (When we meet this guy he is literally handcuffed to a zombified prostitute.)
4. Another LESS cartoonish black man, so this way we can say “See, not all black people in this movie are criminals,  this black guy is a cop! This movie isn’t racist!” But it totally is still super racist.
5. Other assholes
6. A little girl with an English accent

This turkey does ONE thing right where the first movie couldn’t- we have a lot more zombies this time around. That having been said, they aren’t particularly interesting or well done, and Witt keeps filming them in a blurry, low frame rate smear, which I guess is supposed to be cool? Or scary? Really sucks. Looks cheap, it’s a terrible technique. Otherwise, the production is fine, but the acting isn’t anything to write home about. Scut Farkus is especially bad.

scut old new

Yes, you get to watch the bully from A Christmas Story die, so I guess that’s a plus.

The biggest problem here is that all of the characters are idiots. They make decisions that only a child could believe a capable adult would make. For instance:

 Quick; you’re a cop, there’s an outbreak of a deadly virus in your city, what do you do?!?

If you answered “Charge into a crowded police station and open fire on suspects in custody while numerous innocent civilians and police stand in your line of fire without any explanation, and refuse to even warn people with a “Heads up,” and then act like a total dick when they react to your behavior,” then you are a moron, and you’re probably going to get your face shot off your fucking head. That’s the bad news. The good news is, you might like Resident Evil: Apocalypse, because that’s just the sort of thing that our characters do in this movie. Jill, one of our characters, does this exact thing, in fact. When asked what the hell she is doing, she responds curtly “They’re infected.” …Okay. Well, that’s your opinion… Totally uncool for you to just shoot people like that. Also, you could have easily killed someone who WASN’T “infected.” We’re cops and you don’t get to just shoot people because you think you know what’s going on. You’re a shitty character, and you’re stupid.

That’s not the only ridiculous, imbecilic action committed by a character in this movie, pretty much anything anyone does is stupid, Alice’s antics in the church sequence jump to mind, but that’s what we get when our writer, and likely our director, aren’t very smart, and aren’t any good at what they do. Resident Evil: Apocalypse is really, really shitty.

One thing that happens in Resident Evil: Whichever one this is called which I think is especially depressing; at one point, Alice realizes she is being watched through a video surveillance camera, and she uses her crazy mental powers to actually sense the person watching her, where ever that person might be in the world, and then kill that person, Michael Ironside style. The implications here are nothing to sneeze at, either her weird, biological powers allow her to somehow “hack in” to electronic circuits and trace the outgoing signal to whichever monitor it is routed to, and then somehow read the viewer, and somehow kill that person, making her powers both biological and technological, OR she is basically a god at this point. And that’s a far cry from the bumbling, remedial Jedi you’ll see her present herself as in the next movie. The reason for this is simple; the people who make these movies are idiots. They want the end of every movie to be epic, but then they regret how little room they’ve left for themselves to grow when the next sequel begins, so they try to retcon a decent chunk of what they’ve just finished doing every time the next installment kicks off. Watch, they do this over and over.

Also, the next one is even worse.




Rampage ~ 2009, Uwe Boll, USA/Germany

Rampage-2009Before we even get into the movie, let’s talk about this poster really fast. Firstly, I have no idea who that female character is, and I just watched this flick. It kinda looks like Elvira, without her makeup… Yeah, Elvira’s not in this movie. Secondly, I love the glowing praise from “Cool Awesome Movies,” who gives this film a whopping 8 stars!!! Apparently, four stars just wasn’t enough, they really liked Rampage. Who am I to argue?

I’m Chris Ochs, that’s who. Review time.

The single best thing that German director Uwe Boll ever did for his public image was to slowly disappear completely. Let’s talk about that.

In the earlier half of the last decade, openly hating on Uwe Boll was very fashionable, especially in film-centric social circles. By any and all reckoning, here was a man who rightfully deserved to wear the title of “Single worst film maker of all time,” and who was also a belligerent, incompentent dick head, whom nobody could tolerate even on the most basic, human level. According to popular belief, Boll had managed to exploit an obscure German tax loop hole, which allowed him to secure generous financing for a string of woefully ill-advised video game-to film-adaptations, each with relatively high budgets, and occasionally, recognizable actors. They were all unwatchably terrible, and earned consistently poor reviews, which Boll often felt a need to rebut. Inarticulate retaliatory statements from Uwe began to feel pretty commonplace, and the situation slowly began to snowball more and more, until Mr. Boll finally became universally seen as the most despised social pariah of the entire psychotronic film community.


Which is weird, because he’s so charming.

But this was more or less temporary, simply because everyone kinda forgot about him. Once the video game thing had ran its course, Boll’s output became more obscure, and he lost even the faintest chance of ever again knowing the joy that is an American mainstream theatrical release. With his movies no longer rubbed mercilessly in our faces, the world soon found itself with better things to do, and even Boll’s widley accepted status as Humanity’s shittiest director came into question when Tommy Wisseau and James Nguyen hit the scene, jeopardizing Boll’s only accolade ever! Finally, at long last, Uwe Boll, Germany’s greatest living shame, became little more than a horrible, horrible memory for us all.

But he didn’t go away completely. Uwe Boll had just become easier to ignore. It seems that, unbeknownst to many, Boll’s directorial output didn’t actually slow down all that much, if at all. Year after year he somehow continued to churn out terrible movies, and in fact, he remains quite prolific, even to this day. Which is disappointing and terrifying.

In 2009, Uwe Boll directed Rampage, an exercise in shock value violence that has somehow proven to be one of his best received directorial efforts ever. The general consensus across the web is that this film isn’t horrid, putrid dog shit, and that’s a lofty goal which earlier Boll films, like Bloodrayne or Alone In The Dark, would never dare aspire to. Unfortunately, humans are often wrong, and this is one of those times. Rampage is horrible.

The film is best described as being kinda like Joel Shumacher’s Falling Down, as interpreted by some mentally ill teenage boy who needs to be sent to counseling immediately. I absolutely mean it, this movie is fucked up, and without reason, or purpose. It’s not even entertaining, and there’s no merit whatsoever to justify the considerable lapse in human decency required to watch or otherwise engage Rampage. This is not a joke, I mean it, If you find a copy of this movie in the possession of an adolescent, it’s right off to counseling with that one. That is a plain-as-day red flag.

THE PLOT~ Some sheltered, over privileged Millennial who has never known hardship decides that the world is over populated, and that he has the authority to make any sort of decision regarding the future of the human race, even though he’s just some shit head who isn’t qualified to do anything. This fucking tool, who knows absolutely nothing except for what he read on Facebook this morning, then concludes that it is his right to walk around town indiscriminately murdering dozens upon dozens of people, while wearing a bullet proof costume that he bought on the internet, even though the amount of humans who would need to die in order for literally any sort of impact on the Earth to be felt would be in the billions, meaning that he achieves absolutely nothing. So, this kid dresses up in his stupid little suit, marches out, and murders a whole bunch of people, which is really, really easy for him to do. Then, he frames the whole thing on his best friend, and retires home to the comfort of his parents house, where he can continue to not pay rent or get a job, i.e., exist as a non-contributing drain on resources, what a hypocrite.

And that’s the movie.


“It’s my masterpiece!”

The violence in this movie is basically inexcusable, but heed my words, fellow movie nerds; do not take my scathing criticism for Rampage’s violent content as some sort of backhanded endorsement, I beg of you. this is not some psychotronic milestone that you need to check off your bucket list by any means, in fact, if you even have a psychotronic bucket list, then you’ve already spent a lot of time on films that are much, much more extreme than Rampage, and most likely every single one was a much better movie anyway. For instance, I’ve seen, AND loved many, many films which were much more violent, graphic, obscene, depraved- you name it. Films with similar themes, like Falling Down, Death Wish, Taxi Driver, Ms. 45, Dead Man’s Shoes, The Devil’s Rejects, I Spit On Your Grave, and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, all of these are films which I have seen, and appreciate. Why, then, are those movies a-okay, while Rampage is not? Really, there are two reasons.

1. Rampage isn’t good enough: Simple as that. You can be offensive, or you can suck ass, but if you do both, people are a lot less likely to tolerate your bullshit. A genius has some clout to work with, and can buy their way out of controversies. If you’re a doofus, you better pray that your movie at least brings in enough money to cover your ass, because if it doesn’t, then we’ll just run you out of town.

2. The director is an idiot: This does matter. It’s the difference between seeing violent content in a painting done by Leonardo Da Vinci, or seeing violent crayon scribblings perpetrated by some creeper with a learning disability. Boll has no thesis, his film has no subtext, it’s nothing more of what it appears to be at its most superficial layer, because that superficial layer is in fact Rampage’s ONLY layer. This film is so shallow that it’s emotionally alienating, and comes across as a joyless, empty exercise in bottom-of-the-barrel shock value for shock value’s sake- and that’s Boll at his worst. (See: Postal.) Rampage is, in essence, inexcusable, and socially irresponsible.

That being said, as far as I know, this is his best movie. I want to clarify that there are plenty of Uwe Boll films which I have never seen (thank freaking goodness,) but Rampage certainly beats all of his video game films by miles. It’s almost a real movie! The dialogue, and the acting especially is suspiciously decent and naturalistic. Kinda makes a guy wonder… Boll supposedly wrote this one, but I stand here before you and call bullshit on that, at least so far as the dialogue is concerned; Boll’s English isn’t good enough, literally any footage of him actually speaking is adequate proof of this. What had to have happened is that either Boll brought in a native English speaker to fine tune each and every line, or the actors themselves were given full license to re-work and/or improvise their dialogue as needed. The suggestion that these lines are word for word Boll cannot be entertained, it’s simply not true.

But that short list of positive things I can muster up on Rampage’s behalf has now exhausted me, and we’re back to facing the harsh, uncompromising truths associated with Uwe’s cinematic output. Rampage blows. It’s not smart enough to be as offensive as it is, and the end result feels uncomfortably empty, stupid, and lame. Really, the only thing we, as humans, can do is to band together and hope that if life exists elsewhere in the universe, that we can keep Uwe Boll’s body of work hidden from them forever, because we’re probably on thin ice as it is, and that’s just the thing to crack it.


more movies


Manos: The Hands of Fate~ 1966, Harold P. Warren

ManosposterIt’s a commonly held belief that Manos: Hands of Fate was made as part of a wager. Certainly, even relatively credible sites, such as IMDB, attest that director Harold P. Warren made the film on a bet, and human culture is happy to accept this explanation, because Manos: The Hands of Fate NEEDS and explanation; it’s so horrible that many sources feel comfortable with calling this the single worst movie of all time. So, how did this happen? And why? True or not, we have our answer; it was all an elaborate wager between industry outsider Harold P. Warren, and an unknown second party, who had been working inside of the American independent film community in the 1960’s. Warren did win this wager, of course, by virtue of the fact that Manos: Hands of Fate exists, but I really don’t feel comfortable suggesting that Manos: Hands of Fate is in any way, shape, or form a success. Having made this film makes Harold P. Warren a director in the same way that a summer job at Taco Bell makes one a chef.

But I digress; like many near-fatal pieces of soul poison that have been lazily splattered into the filthy slop-trough of American pop culture, Manos came and went in 1966 like a fart in the wind, garnering no acclaim, and soon fading into complete and utter obscurity, where it rightfully belonged. Shockingly, this would not be the end. In 1993, cult television show Mystery Science Theater 3000 featured Manos: Hands of Fate in what would go on to become one of it’s more popular episodes, thereby hoisting it back up, into the spotlight, and giving Manos an unexpected second lease on life; one which would prove much more generous than it’s first trip around the block thirty years prior. Today, Manos: Hands of Fate has an actual cult following, which is nothing less than unthinkable. Manos: The Hands of Fate has a fan base.

THE PLOT~ After driving aimlessly for like, a million years (which we are generously allowed to watch) a family of three winds up stranded at a strange secluded house out in the middle of the desert. It is here that America first meets Torgo, and don’t you worry, we’ll come back to him.


Here’s Torgo. Does he somehow have two sets of eyebrows simultaneously?!

Apparently Torgo serves The Master, who owns this house. The Master is a very religious man, but his religion is some bizarre hand-obsessed branch of Demon worship, focused on a deity called Manos; it involves polygamy, large bonfires, human sacrifice, and constant bullshit. This house is like, Manos central, complete with scary demon trinkets adorning every wall, mysterious creatures baying mournfully somewhere out in the darkness, and a damn sacrificial altar in the backyard. “Whatever,” our family says. “Let us stay here, Torgo, we’re tired of driving.” Torgo really tries to hammer home that this is a bad idea, but they ignore his opinion and pretty much demand a place to crash for the night. Should have listened to Torgo, folks.

The movie drags on for the rest of your natural life. The pace is agonizingly slow, and it’s filled with sequences that serve no purpose, and where pretty much nothing happens. When it finally does end, it does so with a deliberately open ended conclusion, you know, just in case it was a hit and Warren wanted to do a sequel. Honestly, I don’t know how there isn’t a Kickstarter for Manos 3D: Retribution, starring Sean William Scott right now.

As I mentioned before, Manos: The Hands of Fate is a staple of “Worst ever” lists you might see bouncing around the internet, but the truth is, there are hundreds of low budget genre films from the 1960’s which are all just as bad. Manos gets to wear this glorious crown of trash because we KNOW Manos, but if MST3K hadn’t come into the picture and elevated it to the level it now enjoys, there would be some other movie popping up on all those lists, and this one would have remained forgotten, possibly forever. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a horrible movie, and it deserves the infamy it has earned, but Manos is also a product of a very different environment; Small, crude productions helmed by inexperienced first timers were actually very common back in the American 60’s, and the lion’s share of these flicks are just as unwatchable, and in some cases, even more so. I would wager there are still many films out there, waiting to be rediscovered, which could blow this one out of the water. Is Manos; The Hands of Fate the single worst movie of all time? No, but it does belong SOMEWHERE on that list… Maybe just a little further down than most might place it.


In the three-ring turd-circus that is Manos: The Hands of Fate, Torgo is, for sure, the star attraction. This is a character absolutely riddled with peculiarities, none of which are ever addressed in the film, and very few of which make any sort of sense at all. Firstly, his damn knees: torgo2

Never mind why!

Torgo possess massive, swollen, fantastically giant knees, which impede his movements, and the movie never addresses or explains this. They kinda just ignore it, Torgo’s knees are a serious Elephant in the room, so to speak. There is a very popular myth on the internet that Torgo is actually supposed to be a Satyr, which would explain the knees quite nicely; he doesn’t have giant knees at all, he’s goat legs! We just don’t see them, because he’s wearing than Khaki colored Parisian Nightsuit all the time. This is, sadly, wishful thinking, and there is no truth to the satyr explanation. The reality behind Torgo’s suspicious getaway sticks is much less logical; according to IMDB, Harold P. Warren has stated in the past that Torgo was first meant to be a hunchback, but that felt particular deformity seemed too cliché, so instead, they gave him enormous, illogically swollen knees, thinking that this was an untapped cinematic goldmine, and Torgo would be first in line to cash in. “Knees, that’s where it’s at!” Thought Warren. Yeah. As a result, Torgo is barely even able to walk, but the first few times that you see him hobble around, an odd little piece of music plays as he meanders feebley about his bleak surroundings. This music stops when he stops, and resumes when he starts to walk again. There’s even a point at which the music picks up before we see Torgo, and then he wanders into frame, as if the tune is heralding his clumsy arrival. This gives us the impression that this is in fact Torgo’s walking music, and that’s hilarious. He can barely walk, but he has special music that plays whenever he does. I’m a big fan of that, actually.

Torgo also squirms uncomfortably at all times and repeats nearly everything he ever says. He’s easily the most memorable thing about the movie, and googling Torgo will show that I’m not the only person who feels that way; Torgo cosplay is a very real phenomena in 2015, something no one could have foreseen when this thing premiered back in the 60’s. And that’s not the only unexpected way that Manos: The Hands Of Fate’s influence is felt in the post-modern, media-saturated world we live in today, this movie has been the subject of a great deal of fan generated media. There’s fan art, there have been stage adaptations, and Manos was even remade with puppets in Rachel Jackson’s awesome MANOS: THE HANDS OF FELT.

Manos poster

If you’re mind isn’t blown yet, nip on over to your smartphone app store and pick up a copy of the Manos: The Hands of Fate video game. I did. It cost two bucks.


It’s absolutely bizarre that this film has managed to gain such traction decades after it’s disastrous unveiling, and it’s all thanks to Mystery Science Theater 3000. I definitely recommend the Manos episode, without question, if you insist on watching this film, that’s the best way to do it. If, however, you want to see Manos the way nature intended, then be forewarned; Without Joel and the Bots putting this thing on blast, Manos: The Hands of Fate is no walk in the park. You might be laughing for the first twenty minutes, but then it’s a steep downward slide into the deepest circle of hell. Tread lightly.


more movies