Crime Doesn't Pay

I'd heard good things about today's piece.  The House on Willow Street is supposed to be this new, edgy, South African horror flick that's sweeping the nation via OnDemand and IFC Midnight.  I mean, LOOK at this poster art.  It's delightfully creepy, right?

So I watched it.  I got my snacks and my drink and I settled into some demonic shenanigans.

Nope.  Nope.  Nope.

So, here's the thing.  These 4 career criminals (refugees from the foster care system from the sounds of things), who all seem to be related spend WEEKS coming up with a plan to abduct and ransom a teenage girl which, for all intents and purposes, goes off without a hitch.

There's a bell.  WHY is there a bell?  Is she part cat?

Of course, this being HorrorMovieTown, this is not quite as simple as they would like it to fucking be.  (Because it never is.  It's better to learn this lesson, now, kids.  Don't take the easy way out.  EARN your shit.  If you work hard for it you don't have anyone else to blame when things go tits up but you don't have anyone to thank but yourself for the cool shit, either.  Just a tip from your old Uncle Bob.) ANYWAY, their target is all legit possessed by a demon who can project your deepest fears and has a SUPER need to physically manifest.  I'm guessing because it's dying for a Pinkberry but I could be wrong.

So, these four douchebags (yes, including you, sole female member of the team) spend the rest of the movie getting chased by people they thought were dead, getting infected with "Tha Evuls" via spiky penis tongues and generally making use of the hastily rented abandoned warehouse .

And making me continually give you the thousand-yard Cheech-stare because I thoroughly blame drugs for this movie.

Oh, come one, now!  Really?  Truly, kids?  You can't do better than this?  I thought IFC Midnight was supposed to have GOOD taste and they distribute this pile of steaming, corn-filled shit?

Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

First of all, this has already been done and been done WELL.  Take a gander at Tales from Halloween (because it's awesome) and check out the segment called "The Ransom of Rusty Rex" and you'll get a much slimmer, much more intense, and actually FUNNY version of this movie.  This movie makes me wish I made better choices in life, for real.  It was a bland, boring mumble-fest.

Save yourself the two hours and go walk in nature with children or something.  At least then you've done something worthwhile.

We're Gonna Need a Bigger Blog.

IT'S SHARK WEEK, KIDS!

That's right, bitches, we're covering the reason we won't go into the water all week.  Sleek, blue aquatic missiles with teeth.  Apex predators who want to eat our faces.  Well, maybe not OUR faces in real life since more people die of bee stings and lightning strikes every year than shark attacks but you know what I'm saying.

So, yeah.  In preparation for this week, I sat my happy ass on the couch and turned off my brain, yesterday (FINALLY) and binge watched BOTH Sharknado flicks for you.

Syfy movies have caused me to lose faith in humanity, for reals.

"Hey!  Let's take something that's already awful and horrifying and combine it with something EQUALLY awful and horrifying and put them together like an awful and horrifying Reese's cup and make a movie about it!"  This appears to be The Asylum's go-to strategy and, fuck if I know why, it works for them.  Those bitches HAVE to be laughing all the way to the bank.

Now, let's get this straight right off the bat, kids.  These are PAINFULLY bad movies.  So let's keep that in mind as we move along, shall we?

Hey, look.  A lifeguard working on an ex-Baywatch alum... who doesn't know what a tourniquet is.

Sharknado starts with a completely throwaway thing about a shady fisherman and his equally shady Asian business associate who are trying to out-shade each other without knowing that the titular sharknado has already begun (Yes, tornados can suck up sea life, by the way... it just doesn't remain living while it's in there and the worst thing that would happen is you getting smooshed by a couple hundred pounds of dead fish).  Both of them get their faces chewed.

Then, there's bad surfing by Ian (pronounced EYEan... like a douche) Zeiring whose character's name is Fin (fucking seriously?),  the handsome, Tasmanian best friend, Baz, getting nibbled on enough to get him a big bandage (and the keys to my bedroom but that's only because Jaason Simmons is hot and plays for my team), the girl who's all shark-hatey for some vague reason that isn't explained until almost the end of the movie and the main guy getting all "shit's going down but we don't know why so I have to save my family even though Tara Reid and her giant saggy nipples still can't act her way out a paper bag and hates me now because we divorced for some stupid reason that's never fully explained."

She likes guns.

Then it's all OHNOES!  Los Angeles is flooding, Los Angelinos apparently gather in small groups when things get wet and then complain about the non-existent traffic problems and people that live near a beach know nothing about getting out of the water!

By the way, can someone tell me how a house on TOP of a hill gets flooded enough to garner a fucking shark in the living room?  One that is shown to have adequate drainage just below it? 

So, yeah, off to rescue more people.  Tara "Unfortunate Boob Job" Reid gets all "You're saving people and this is why I divorced you" and Cousin Oliver has a lame panic attack and gets smooshed by the Hollywood sign.  They reach the field where the eldest child is taking flight lessons (also, really unexplained) where they gather their forces and plan to send explosives into the sharknados.  Because science.

Then this happens.

Wait, what?

And this:

Yep.  Jumps right up in there.  Like Jordan with a chainsaw.

Freaky birth analogy happens because that shark he jumps into?  It's the one that ate shark-hater girl.

ANYWAY!  On to round two where there's already been a book published and the reconciled couple goes to New York for TV appearances and, basically, everybody and their damn mother wants a fucking cameo and that's what the second one is about.

Nope.  Still lost in that paper bag.

Yep.  Sharknados take Manhattan.  Like the damn Muppets.  Which is totally funny because the CGI guys need to fuck right the hell off.  Because their CGI-Fu is weak and the sharks look less convincing than a Muppet.  We could have had Elmonado and it would have looked better.

Did we mention the cameos?  They got the entire fucking Today show cast, Biz Markie, the dude from Shark Tank, Judd Hirsch DRIVING A TAXI, Kelly Osbourne, Kurt Angle, Downtown Julie Brown, Billy Ray Cyrus, that Subway asshole, Perez Hilton, Kelly Ripa, Rachel True, Richard Kind, Andy Dick, Sandra "Pepa" Denton, Robert Klein, Robert Hays (The pilot?  Really?) and anybody else they could get 5 minutes with in New York.  TOO MUCH!

Plus Vivica A. Fox looking all street 'n' shit and being named "Skye" because combined the two characters, had they married, would have made "Skye-Fin" which is just way too deep for this movie.

Oh, and did I mention Mark McGrath with his ALSO horrible plastic surgery?  Because he's the brother-in-law.  Why did Syfy make me stare at his ugly mug for 2 hours?  Why?

So, anyhoo, all of this is a giant clusterfuck of delicious awfulness.  Every single one of these people just phoned these movies right the fuck in and I'm kind of glad they did.  It lent to that intentional unintentional hilarity that you would expect from movies with Sharknado in their title.  I don't ever want to watch them AGAIN, mind you, but these movies and a couple of Hot Pockets kept me entertained for a few hours.  Badly entertained.  Because they seriously strapped a buzzsaw to Tara Reid's arm and made this happen on the roof of an F.D.N.Y firetruck all Matrix-y.

I don't know HOW the Hot Pockets people don't get sued for mouth damage, by the way.  You can let those fuckers chill out for an hour and you'll STILL burn your lips.

Yeah, so, uhhh... I'm not saying to skip these because you get what you pay for.  In fact, I'm saying to watch them because the awfulness is so hilarious that it could bring a suicide back from the ledge.  You think YOU'VE got it bad?  Take a look at the careers of THESE assholes.

Shouldn't Art Be More... Artistic?

OH, MY.  FUCKING.  BLOGATHOTEP!

OK, for serious, Hollywood.  STOP making "found footage" films.  For real.  Stop.  Just stop.  I mean it.

Because if I have to sit through another piece of trash like Mr. Jones, I will seriously shoot myself and implicate the director as the sole reason behind my suicide.  I don't CARE if it makes me look like a fuckin' loony.  I will tell the damn truth and let the world know that the reason I'm fuckin' dead is because of cheap-ass producers who don't want to pay for a damn screenwriter.

COUGH IT UP, HOLLYWOOD!  I KNOW you gots the cash.  If you DON'T then where are my fuckin' twelve dollars a pop gettin' to?  I'm betting on inexpensive sex workers (not that there's anything wrong with that by itself) with an assload of cocaine lined up on their backsides in expensive hotel rooms to make the girls feel fuckin' pretty.

Don't let the pictures fool you.  This is pure FF bullshit.

If a Hollywood producer who makes found footage films tells you you're pretty, he's lying.

Grrrrrr...

So, this steaming pile takes place in the woods.  Because these jackholes moved there.  To be alone and try to make a documentary and be all hippy-dippy commune-y or some bullshit.

Of course, dudehole stops taking his medication which is talked about for 5 fucking minutes and then completely forgotten about, even though you think they're gonna use some "unreliable narrator" goodness.

They don't.

So, yeah, they find a scarecrow, or at least a crude approximation of one.  Turns out this is an art piece by the mysterious Mr. Jones.

They invade his fuckin' house, too.  Nosy bitches.

And, you know what?  That's about all you need to know. 

Somebody was trying to work out their vegan, tree-hugger, PETA-loving, Mother Goddess (not that there's anything wrong with any of this by itself) bullshit.  They were trying to force us into being all "oooooooh, protect the nature" and shit.  Only they were too damn vague and 90% of the viewers would not get it.  All they would see is the stupid-ass craziness that doesn't mean a damn thing.

Yep.  This?  Stolen by El Douchebag.

This is a humongous fail-weight that destroys everything it touches.  It causes the black pit where I used to have a soul to weep inky darkness.  If I HAD a song in my heart, I would skip this with it.

No, seriously.  Skip it.

What the fuck, people, RUN!!  Run far and fast and then, when you think you can't run any more, run some more.  Escape this movie as if your life depends on it.  Because it does.

Curses! Foiled Again!

So, you all know how much I heart the Child's Play series, right?  (Barring Child's Play 3 which, frankly, can be removed from my memory any time, now, because it sucked and sucked hard.)  It is with that love of Voodoo-enchanted plastic in mind that I bring to you today's review...

EEEEEEEE!  CURSE OF CHUCKY!!!

At least, that's what I'd say if I managed to actually LIKE this one.

Our story is about Nica, a young paraplegic woman who lives with her mother (played by Fiona Dourif, Brad Dourif's daughter).  Mom gets a package in the mail that happens to be a Good Guy doll and since we've all seen Child's Play, we all know that this does not bode well.

Mostly because mom gets cacked in the first 15 minutes, thereby causing the rest of Nica's family to show up.

With the nanny.  The young, homewrecking nanny.

Of course, the sister is all "But you can't take care of yourself!  I don't believe you're a real person since you're stuck in a wheelchair."  She wants to sell the house and put Nica in a home.

Mind you, Big Sis comes out with this BEFORE THE FUNERAL because Big Sis is a complete cunt.  She's a money-hungry bitch who resents that her husband doesn't have a publishing job anymore and, as much as the signs say other is ACTUALLY the one who's having an affair with the nanny.  We find this out later.  We ALSO find out that he put a nanny-cam in Chucky's front pocket.  This is a plot point.

I'll keep you safe from your bitch of a mom!  And thunder!   I'm your friend 'til the end!

So, anyway, Nica tries to diffuse the situation by giving Chucky to her niece and, to prove that she's competent enough to live by herself, Nica makes dinner.  Chucky poisons one of the dishes of chili with rat bait.  because he's an asshole who doesn't like delicious chili.  I think it's because he's jealous of people who can still eat.

No one dies at dinner but the priest that's visiting has to leave early.  He gets to die in a wreck on the way home.  Likely because he's slowly dying of arsenic poisoning.

Aaaaaaaaand, that's all you're getting.  Over the course of the night, lots of folks die.  Not necessarily in new and interesting ways but they're entertaining enough.

Housekeeping!

There are truly no words to express my disappointment with this movie.  It was certainly better than 3 but it sucked out loud compared to the rest.  The end of the movie was the best part, really.  This is NOT, by the way, the fault of any of the actors.  They did the best they could with the script they were given (except in a gawdawful flashback scene).  The special effects were decent and the updated Chucky doll, well, there's a face for ya...

Sweet dreams, bitches.

On the other hand, the script was weak, they ACTUALLY HAD A ROTARY PHONE that went out in the house ALONG with the cell phone which, since she could use it in the house all along shouldn't have dropped a signal, and they didn't play out the whole "stuck in a wheelchair" drama NEARLY as much as they could have.  They also cut out a WHOLE lot of the humor of the series.  The whole thing was beige.

Watch it if you want but don't say I didn't warn you.

Paddle. Faster.

I suppose it says something about me that I kind of avoid the Chiller channel.  I mean, yeah, sometimes they show some cool shit but for the most part they just show stuff I've already seen and kind of hated.  I think maybe if I watched it more, they might get more money in which to show better shows but for now, their line-up does nothing for me.

And then there's their "Original Movie" division which, let's face it, is just as cheesy as their parent channel, SyFy.  And with that, I bring to you...

There was anticipation in this film.  There was suspense.  There was "Where the hell is this movie going?  I have to see because I need to know whether or not I wasted my time!"  And waste my fucking time, I did.

Holy shitballs, this was a fuckin' snoozefest.  I literally only kept watching to see if it would get better.

Someone should be beating them with those oars.  Too bad they lose both of them.

It didn't.

From the beginning of the film, which is your standard "High school kids out for their last hurrah", to the introduction of the characters to the introduction of the cheesiest giant fish monster, EVER, to the one girl dying of a fucking scratch...

Like, OMG, it HURTS!  

Yes, a fucking scratch.  There wasn't even enough blood to paint a postage stamp.  I've had hangnails that bled more.  I'm fairly certain that the stupid bitch bled more during her period but that's just not dramatic, is it?

Dun, dun, DUUUUUUUN!!

And the "OMG, everybody's sleeping with everybody else except the one kid who WANTS to sleep with Blondie McHotPants" badly acted faux-drama was just... ugh.  There are no words for the tedium.  None.

Seriously, Larry Fessenden.  Fuck you.  I should not be watching a movie JUST out of "There's nothing else on and I'm too lazy to flip through the channels."

Is this where they all jump in the water to die because that would be rad... Oh.  Guess not.

I suffer for you people.  Remember that when it comes to gift-giving.  Christmas is coming, fellow nerds.  I wear a large t-shirt and Legos are always welcome.

40 Whacks

So, in celebration of a few days of overtime, for which I profusely apologize, by the way, I finally hooked up my HD cable and sat down to big screen Netflix.  Because what's the use of having a big screen if you can't watch movies on it, right?

And then I picked my movie.  I thought I'd choose something I'd never seen and I saw this in the queue:

A movie about Lizzie Borden's ghost?  With Gary Busey in all of his Insano-Vision™ glory?  Count me in!  I mean, we all know I'm a glutton for punishment, right?  I watch bad movies on purpose because there are sometimes hidden gems.

This was not one of them.

Our story is about a girl who is in therapy because of something horrible in her childhood involving Dan Swayze who is an UGLY motherfucker.  Jesus.  How much work did Patrick have done to avoid looking like his brother, anyway?  Patrick's face must've cost a mint.

So, yeah.  It's all vague and involves a hatchet.

And sometimes a bat.

 The girl inherits the house as an adult and is now living there with her boyfriend who, frankly, is the only eye-candy in the whole film and the director was OBVIOUSLY gay considering how much time he spent with the camera pointed at his boxer-brief ensconced crotch.  It's established early on that she's crazy, he KNOWS she's crazy, it's a wedge in their relationship and that his crotch needs to be set free more often than she lets it.

Even her shrink knows it.

Seriously, that's the most interesting part of the movie.

Yeah, there's the ghost of Lizzie Borden and a creepy neighbor that doesn't know how to fuckin' knock but neither they nor Corbin Bernsen nor Gary Busey make up for the utter lameness that is this film.  The director maybe needs to go back to directing porn.  Or maybe not since there wasn't a SHRED of nudity in this.  Oh, wait.  I lied.  There were boobs.  Big, round fakeys.  For about a second.  Whee.

Seriously?  THIS is Lizzie Borden's ghost?  Fuck off.

I was so bored after watching this, I watched Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters again because I needed something familiar and enjoyable to drag my ass out of the pits of boredom.

You can just pass right on by this one. 

I'll Be There For Yooooouuuuuuu...

We all know Danielle Harris, right?  Cute kid.  Wore a kind of iconic clown costume in a few of the Halloween sequels?  Graduated to jailbait victim in the remake and its sequel?  The bane of Victor Crowley in the Hatchet movies?  Pregnant vampire hunter in Stake Land?  We love her, right?  Tiny, little horror pixie that she is?  We like to encourage her in her endeavors.  She's awesome and deserves to succeed.

Only, now we get to deal with some growing pains in her career because she finally got the chance to direct.

Kill me.

Good lord this was bland.

Among Friends, like many a horror tale before it, brings a bunch of asshole friends together for a party.  This party is special because it's all 80s Prom murder mystery themed.  This just means that coke is going to figure heavily into the evening.

I'm totally not kidding about that.

So, anyway, the kids get taken to their friend Bernadette's house in a limo.  Driven by a foul-mouthed Kane Hodder who seriously just needs to keep his fuckin' mouth shut.  I like Mr. Hodder, I really do but he's so much better when he's silent and menacing and, more often than not, carrying a damn machete covered in the blood of asshole teenagers.

Until you get naked on camera, Mr. Hodder, shut your face-hole.

So, yeah.  Decked out in their totally tubular finery, the kids make themselves comfortable until their hostess arrives and you KNOW that something is wrong when she shows up behind them like a goddamn ninja.

POOF, BITCHES!

Bernadette (don't call her Bernie) lays out the rules and has the friends search the house for clues, placing them in strategic teams.  Why they're strategic, I really don't know.  All I know is that two of them end up high on mushrooms and one of them is doing coke in the bathroom.

Then they break for dinner and they get presents!  YAY, PRESENTS!  They're all clues to the mystery they're supposed to be solving.

Hint:  This is the sexually generous two-faced cunt.

Somehow or other, they all end up paralyzed and taped up to the dining room chairs.  Pretty sure it was in the booze.  They're all "I can't feel my legs!  Oh, NOES!  Who could have done this?  Who was the only damn person in the house capable of movement all this time?"

Braintrusts, the lot of them.

So, yeah.  Bernadette is a psycho.  She also happens to be a psychologist.  Nobody seems to know the difference between a psychologist and a psychiatrist so I'm gonna lay this out right now.  A psychiatrist is the one that can dispense medication.  That just begs the question "Where the fuck did she get the paralytics?" 

And this is where the game gets nasty.  Her friends can ask her questions but she gets something in return.  In the case of one friend, she collects a piece of her scalp.  Another rule?  Every time someone says "please stop" someone loses a finger.

It occurs to me that many psych majors take that course load to figure out their own damn problems.

Wanna get hammered?  It's a total head trip.  No, seriously, her faboo 80's hair is fucked.

Oh, and, by the way, Bernadette has been secretly filming all of her friends whenever they're partying at her house.  Because, and I cannot stress this enough, she's CRAZY.  Only not really crazy in an entertaining kind of way.  Just in a "we need a villain, see if you can't gnaw your way through that wall" sort of way.

Those tapes are the reason behind this little shindig.

Stoned is quite possibly the only way this movie could be even halfway entertaining.

Now, I'm not saying that I don't like this movie.  I'm saying that I absolutely hated it.  I'm sorry, Miss Harris but this half-assed throwback to Happy Birthday to Me (BTW, Happy 300th Post to me!) needs a LOT of work.  I know it's your first shot and I know that you have to build your craft but I think you have to do a little homework in terms of subtlety and tension.  The bones are there but the flesh and blood is missing.

That said, the acting isn't bad.  It's not great by any stretch but it's watchable.  The cinematography isn't bad, either.  I really think that the badness just comes from script and direction.  That's a correctable thing if we can get Danielle to watch some Murnau, Craven, Hitchcock and Scott.

Do your homework, missy!  No TV until it's done.

I Wanna Axe You a Question.

What the everliving fuck did I just watch?

No, seriously.  What did I watch?  I'm not sure.  Was it a comedy?  Was it a horror film?  Was it a waste of digital space?  Was it a smorgasbord of cgi bullshit?  Yes.  All of it.  Yes.

Don't get me wrong, I knew what I was getting into but fuuuuuuuuuuck.  This was horrifically hilarious.  Once again, do NOT make this into a drinking game because you WILL keel the fuck over.

Our movie starts with a damn flashback and we all know that's never a good thing.  In this case, though, we get the return of Dan Haggerty.  Dan Haggerty who needs to fire his damn agent because his career is about as inspiring as Elizabeth Berkely's.

It still doesn't help.

So, yeah.  He's a late 19th century logging foreman.  He's all grinding his scary junk on this big cow that cookie is spit-roasting (only not really).  He goes to take a dump and returns to find his entire camp in chunks.  Then he gets manhandled by the Elephant Man and force-fed to a ripsaw.

Say hello to my little friend.

Fast forward to modern day where a bunch of idiot teenagers are being shuffled off to a "first offenders" camp to scare them straight.  They have an asshole police sergeant leading the way and a meek and mild counselor to help them work through their daddy issues.

Disrespect is the new black.

Of course, the felons in training bond on the bus to camp.

Hi.  I'm Douche-y McDrug-Dealer.

They get harassed by the local madman around the campfire and then, in standard prison film fashion, some of the inmates try to have sex and get caught and are forced to go on a hike.  Actually, all of them are forced on a hike but whattayagonna do?

On this hike, Douche-y picks up a gigantic cow horn.  Actually... an OX horn.  You get where we're going with this, right?

I got you, Babe.

Yes, kids, they just graverobbed Babe the Big Blue Ox.

Really?  Seriously?

Fuck me.

Yeah.  That cow from the beginning was Babe.  Loggers ate Babe the Big Blue Ox.  I'd say he looked tasty but HE was fucking CGI, too.

Anyway!  This, of course, pisses the still living and fucking immense PAUL GODDAMN BUNYON off, so he chases the team through the forest, hacking and slashing willy-nilly, actually stomping on Sergeant Tightpants because he was an ass.

Yes, those are CGI intestines.

They get back to the cabin and lock themselves in with a fucking hook-and-eye catch.

A hook-and-eye catch to stop a two-story tall dude with a gigantic fucking axe that he sharpens on a cave wall.

These people are stupid and deserve to die.

Shake that bitch like a fresh glow-stick!

My fucking brain hurts.

I don't know why I do this to myself.  Yes, this film is completely laughable and that makes it kind of worth it but I really think we need to stop handing money to cheap CGI houses.  Those bitches ruin everything.  Practical may not be cheap but FUCKING USE IT!  CGI should only be used to ENHANCE effects, not replace them.

Do your fucking job, effects folks.

Don't make me come get you.

Conditioner. Invest.

Hidey-ho, kids!  Today we're gonna dip our toes into the vast, murky waters of J-Horror again because, dammit, I sat through Sadako 3D for you so you didn't have to.  Bitches.

Also known as Ringu 5, director Tsutomu Hanabusa drags us kicking and screaming back into the world of Sadako, the stringy-haired ghost girl we've all come to know and loathe in the previous four Ringu films.  Because, seriously, how long can she go on being bitter about being tossed into a well?  Also, this one is in 3D which makes it even more annoying.

We start out with a dude in white tossing a long-haired girl into a well.  There's really no explanation for it but there are a whole lot of women with long, black hair and nightdresses in the well so it seems he's been at this for a while.

Captain Douchenugget

So, anyway, this takes place thirteen years after the events of the first movie and there's been a rash of suicides but they're all pretty darn mysterious so Detective Koiso and his partner are investigating.  The only link they can come up with is that they were all playing video on portable devices and (unbeknownst to them... because I like saying "unbeknownst") there's a voice that says "You're not the one" just before horrible hurty pain.  Koiso is all "this is just stupidness" but his partner believes in the cursed video put online by Kashiwada Seiji (the asshole in white up there), an online artist that had a troll-fight and got his panties all twisted.

In the meantime, one of the suicides is a schoolgirl in Akane Ayukawa's class.  The girl's friend, Lisa, is frantically trying to find the video because she's a stupid heifer.  When searching for the video, it leaves a 404 error but it will still play when you're alone.  Which is, like, the worst coding EVER.

You paid extra for this shit?

The video, by the way, is Kashiwada saying "It's Showtime" like he's fuckin' Beetlejuice or something and then being strangled by an invisible force.  SMOKE AND MIRRORS, I SAY!!  But then S (she's not named until later in the movie) comes out of the screen and strangles you with her gross, unwashed locks.  She manages to get a hold of Akane and says "You are the one."

And then we find out that Akane is a telekinetic and Sadako wants her because she's powerful and with her power she can erase all humanity from existence.  That's not optimal.  Sadako snatches Takanori Andou (Akane's boyfriend?) and makes him disappear into an LCD screen on the side of a truck.  Akane tracks Sadako down to her original well and has to do battle with all of the Sadako grasshopper monsters and she wins the day by destroying an iPhone because the Japanese are fucked in the head.

Stabby.

Seriously, Japan?  You're not even trying anymore.  What happened to dark and suspenseful?  What happened to moody and atmospheric?  I mean, you didn't even try to go all off-the-charts crazy.  You're turning into mainstream Hollywood, Japan and I don't like it.  If you're gonna give me grasshopper girls you could at LEAST invest in decent special effects.  These were all Invasion of the Crab Monsters cheesy.  Ed Wood could have done this better and he didn't even have CGI to contend with. 

I know that this movie had some out there advertising but, fuck, man.  The 3D was laughable.  The script was boring.  The lead actress stumbled her way through this like she was sharing Sharon Stone's highball on the set of Catwoman.  There was no art here.  This was all about profit and it shows.

Skip it.  Skip it HARD.

Death Boots Badonkadonk Mix

Note to self:  DO NOT get on Netflix whilst in the throes of insomnia.  It makes you make bad life choices.

Bad life choices like watching Sweatshop.

The story for this one is simple.  Tooooooo simple.

A bunch of young adults break into an old factory to hold a rave.  Because raves are still popular.  As they're setting up, they're hunted by the freaky-ass mutants that live there.  The first to die?  The lesbian who's apparently not as lesbian as she'd like people to think.  Her name is Lolly.  Because she's got an oral fixation on top of her most goth haircut, her gothapotamus outfit and her "OMG, I shouldn't be able to run in these boots" boots.

 All that sugar will rot your teeth, there, les-faux.

And the rest aren't really killed right away but they totally should be.  We've got the slimy redneck who's somehow financing a part of this, the jealous bitch, the stupid flitter-fairy perky-goth in her skankenstein-wear and her yarn falls, the redneck's punk-rock brother with the serious mohawk who suffered from a mysterious "snowballing" incident (if you need me to explain "snowballing" let me know but you should probably check urbandictionary.com first), the DJ, the smart girl who SHOULD have been the one to survive but didn't and the final girl who is, in actuality, a pimp.  The other girls there are her hoes.

Actual hoes.  Hoes are a real thing.  People pay to have Skankenstein get their dick wet.

(The management would like to alert you to the fact that sex work is actual work and no one should be shamed for it.  My choice of the word "skankenstein" is purely for humorous reasons and in no way represents my actual feelings towards sex-positive individuals whose affections are negotiable.)

Where's mah MONEY?!

I know the director was trying to be all subversive and shit but, damn, really?  There's only so far you can invert the final girl before it looks like you're trying too hard.

They're all being chased and murder-fied by a dude with an anvil on a stick and his creepy family.  And that's all we'll ever know about them.

Please die, Skankenstein.

And it ends in a glow-stick bloodbath.  A badly acted and filmed glow stick bloodbath.

This happens.  No, really.

Suffice it to say that I'm blaming my watching this on insufficient sleep.  I think this could have been great if they had moderated the volume levels, written a better script, left out all of the macho, homophobic bullshit and, you know, acted well.  I do give it props for using practical over digital effects but it's still awful.

Skip it.