This piece of shit movie is supposed to be about disenfranchised teens, the bonds of friendship, and sexual curiosity, blah blah, but I think it’s just an hour and a half of poorly acted, terribly scripted, rape. Or necrophilia, depending on how you want to look at it. First, I couldn’t get past the 20-something actors that are suppose to be high school kids. It didn’t work on 90210 and it’s not working here. Second, given the averages laid out by this film, 100% of men — sorry, boys — who come across a bound and dead (or near dead) body of a woman aren’t going to try and help her, but are going to fuck her repeatedly. If only the girls at school would just spread their legs, then these guys wouldn’t have to fuck a living corpse, huh? I guess that’s another point this movie is trying to make, so pay attention ladies. And about this dead girl? Well, she’s not really dead in so much as she can’t die. Don’t even bother asking why or how she got that way because that kind of detail isn’t important. The important thing is, she’s naked and not really willing.
The most buzzed about movie in the last year or so has to be The Human Centipede (First Sequence). Of course, you won’t find it at your local Blockbuster, so the wife finally managed to track it down on the Internet just so we could find out why this movie made people wretch and squirm and turn their head away in pure disgust (if you believe what you read in cyberspace, some people were so turned off by this movie that they walked out of test screenings). So, what’s the big deal then? Ass-to-mouth, that’s what, but not the porno version. More of a literal, torturous version. There’s no doubt that writer/director Tom Six has a twisted mind (again, if you believe what you read in cyberspace the idea for this movie stems from a joke he made about punishing child molesters by sewing their mouths to a trucker’s ass) because the nature of this movie falls right off the scale, and it is indeed stomach-turning, but I wasn’t as shocked by the gratuity of this film as much as others seem to have been. Maybe it was all the hype, but I was let down by its sicko factor.
You know, I really didn’t have much hope for The Last House on the Left, the 2009 remake (or rather, adaptation) of Wes Craven’s 1972 film of the same name, because remakes are, for the most part, unoriginal, money-making film fodder. And I thought that my hopelessness was indeed going to prove true after watching the first five minutes of this movie and having to digest the terrible cop/criminal dialogue that takes place therein. Add on to that the usual isolated house in the woods location (where, of course, cell phones don’t work), a big storm on the horizon, the convenience of the father’s occupation as a surgeon (who better to exact torturous revenge?), the convenience of the daughter’s skills as a swimmer (who better to escape from the killers’ grasp by the lake?), and…well, you get the idea. However, my hopelessness quickly turned to complete and utter uncomfortable interest as this movie went on. By the end, I was disgusted…and pleased.