Sometimes I get e-mails from people asking
me if I want a bigger dick. And sometimes I get e-mails asking
why I review bad movies. The answer to the first question is,
yes, I do. I won't be satisfied until my dick is two feet long,
and I will buy every supplement advertised in e-mail. For the
second question, I wonder if they e-mail their local newspaper
critics and ask them the same thing. I review bad movies because
the grassfuckers make bad movies. Besides, even if a flick looks
like the biggest steaming load of shit since Lucille Ball ate
the Riviera buffet in 1964, you can never assume that everyone
because there are people who are incredibly stupid. In fact, think
of the stupidest person you know and understand that there is
someone even dumber out there. Hell, you'd think everyone knows
eating rat poison is a bad idea, but the companies still have
to put a big fucking warning on the box. Even if you personally
don't need the label, there is someone who does. So, consider
some of my reviews the movie equivalent of the warning on rat
poison; a way to save morons from themselves. And it's mostly
morons who read my reviews. I'm sure there are very few people
who think Uew Boll's latest tainted stool Bloodrayne will
be any good, or even better than being assfisted by an ape. But
fact, unlike when I went to see director Uwe Boll's gangrape of
a movie Alone in the Dark, there were other people in the
theater on Friday night. They were awake, and apparently knew
they were seeing Bloodrayne. It's a good thing I showed
up, too, because a few of them had snuck rat poison in as a snack.
eat that!" I shouted. "And don't watch this!"
my warning was to no avail. By the time the lights came back up
in the AMC Westminster's Theater 9, two people in Arena Football
T-shirts were foaming at the eyes and twitching uncontrollably.
I'll never know if it was the movie or the rat pellets that killed
sucks goat tits. It sucks shit and smelly ass. It sucks the husks
off corn, the foreskin off dicks, the shit off the submissive
in a Dirty Sanchez. It sucks harder and more sloppily than a Bennigan's
waitress on her lunch break, but costs slightly less. It is, however,
better than Alone in the Dark. That's not to say it's good,
it's just that it's like getting a staph infection below the knee
instead of the entire leg.
all Boll movies, Bloodrayne is based on a moderately successful
video game whose rights he got cheaply. He got a hack (Guinevere
Turner) to crap out a script, and shot it on the cheap in low-budget
foreign locations with Z-grade talent like Kristianna Lokken,
Meatloaf, Matt Davis, Billy Zane, Michele Rodriguez, Michael Madsen
and Ben Kingsley. For the actors, appearing in a Uwe Boll is a
declaration that they act for money and have costly addictions
that must be fed. It also declares that they have less self-respect
than a Tri-Delt. It's like falling on a spiral of shame and bumping
your head on every step all the way down to the bottom.
going to try to explain the plot, but I'm not sure I understood
it. I'm almost positive that nobody involved in its making did,
and that most of them didn't even try. In a cheaply rendered mideival/rennaissance/old-timey
world that looks part Oliver Twist and part high school
carnival where everyone lives in giant castles made of painted
foam, Lokken is some sort of human/vampire hybrid who can help
defeat the Kingsley, the king of the vampires. Like all vampire
kings, Kingsley wants to take over the world. Madsen leads a band
of freedom fighters who are, apparently, losing the war against
is Kingsley's daughter, but other than that being repeated often,
it means little to the story. There is some nonsense about a dead
vampire who left parts of his body across the countryside, and
some sort of race to collect the body parts. I never understood
why Kingsley wanted Lokken, or why Lokken went around looking
for the body parts when Kingsley would never be able to find them
all if she didn't. When Kingsley finally captures Lokken he wants
to kill her because he now has the eyeball and heart she found.
And Rodriguez is the dandy fop billy Zane's daughter, which causes
some complications, I guess. Something about betrayal, but Rodriguez
and Zane are as undercooked as an Easy-Bake Oven brownies. Again,
nobody involved in the movie really bothered explaining the motivations.
movie is cheap looking as the red-dot rack at the Goodwill. During
the opening credits, Boll attempts some sweeping panoramas of
the ancient landscape, but he's too damn lazy to wipe out a highway
and a small, modern city. The sets look left over from a Mideival
Times office party and some old Golan-Globus movies. Costumes
have a vague sense of old timeyness, as though the costume designer
pillaged the rennaissance faire at the "special" school. The girls
wear midriff-baring bustiers and hotpants similar to those Randy
"Macho Man" Savage wore in the 80s and also, I guess, waifs of
ancient time liked on a cold wintery night. Kingsley, Meatloaf
and Zane shoot their roles on single sets, probably in one day
apiece. The biggest expenditure on the set was the smoke machines
that Boll overuses to mask the dinginess.
are more fights in Bloodrayne than at nickel beer night
in Comiskey Park. The difference is Comiskey is way more entertaining.
These fights are sloppy, unoriginal and as one-sided as a stroke
victim. The good guys almost never lose, and usually just slash
right through their victims, who spout geysers of blood that would
make Yellowstone jealous. Seriously, the blood is so over-the-top
and unreal, and the spurting is so silly I wondered how much fish
you'd have to eat to have so strong a heart.
story is as convoluted and full of inconsistencies as one of my
three a.m. tales to Mrs. Filthy explaining why my hands are covered
in blue dye. Early, Lokken says she does not know who Kingsley
is. Later she tells someone else he raped and murdered her mother
while she watched. Usually, you remember those sorts of things.
Everyone is looking for these dead vampire parts, yet Lokken finds
one after a fortune-teller says that it's common knowledge that
it's in a monastery. Both the good and bad guys don't know where
Lokken is going, yet manage to be ahead of her on her journey.
dialog is stiffer than Pinocchio's dick. It is occasionally old-timey,
but only when the Turner remembered to try it that way. The attempts
are not researched, just the sort of starchy phrasing that high
school kids aspiring to the Society for Creative Anachronism use
while ordering lunch. You have to stomach lines like, "Fruits
in every color of the rainbow." Which, I guess, means Skittles?
"Sunsets that set the whole sky on fire." And, "If a fight is
what they want, a fight is what we shall give them."
most disturbing is the weirdo attempt at some sort of goth erotic
vibe. It's nice when Lokken and Davis hump for no good reason
and in a most awkward way. But, we get to see Lokken's tits a
bunch there, and they are very nice. Nice enough to make me forget
Davis lousy mullet. However, in the middle of the movie there
is some sort of vampire orgy with fake blood and lots of writhing
that made even this most ardent porn lover feel queasy. Watch
in the background of this scene to see actors who are clearly
as uncomfortable with this horrid attempt at eroticism as I was.
Meatloaf rubs blood on one lady's nipple, and others others lounge
around half naked dripping endlessly like snot from a hooker on
an endless coke bender.
is pure shit. So pure that if people shot up shit instead of heroin
this would be a million bucks a kilo. But they don't, and turds
should have a warning labels before anyone tries. One Finger
for the Uwe Boll's latest crapterpiece. And I can't wait for the
Want to tell Filthy Something?