Before I launch into my fair and balanced condemnation of the horrible movie The Legend of Sorrow Creek, I’d like to ease into the review, ever so slowly.  Think of it as foreplay; like an erotic and/or disturbing tongue bath before doing the “dirty deed.”  I’d recommend listening to some soothing love songs to get you in the mood (something like Barry White’s Greatest Hits or Cannibal Corpse’s Butchered at Birth).  So, sit back, take a sip of two buck Chuck (which is now, like, four bucks, but that’s another story…), and let sweet ole’ Gabe take over…

Okay, I’m going to start off by complaining about something that has nothing to do with the movie itself (trust me, I’ll complain about the movie later).  Instead, I’d like to focus on something that kicked my eye-testicles the moment I awkwardly shoved The Midnight Horror Collection into my submissive, and frightened, DVD player.

First off, The Midnight Horror Collection DVD is stuffed with eight motherfucking movies.  And as we know, quantity always trumps quality!  Right?  Right? 

This bowel-pummeling insult to sanity is spread over two discs.  Disc one contains I Am Omega, Prom Night, Below, and The Legend of Sorrow Creek.   Disc two contains Charles Bands’ Evil Bong, Meridian, Demonic Toys, and Decadent Evil.

Anyway, I won’t go into the merits of each movie yet, because I’m here to talk about the first movie I watched in this collection.  And I knew I was in for a tasty treat when I laid eyes on the DVD menu.  Apparently, a static picture of an unspooled roll of film is what DVD producers think is a suitable introduction to four horror films.  Not any scary music or a montage of scenes from the movies, or anything resembling, you know, movement, thought, or effort.  Just a static, unmoving shot of film.  Fantastic.

As everybody knows, I like my DVD menus like I like my women; plain, quiet, and cheesy.  At the very least, a DVD menu should establish a mood, or at least give the viewer a slight indication of what to expect from the movie.  From my powers of deduction, I’m guessing whoever works for this company was taking a shit break when corporate came down to hand out responsibilities.  I imagine the exchange between the DVD execs went something like this:

DVD EXEC #1: “Who do we have working on the menus for the DVD?”

DVD EXEC #2: “I don’t know, I didn’t see anybody in the office.”

DVD EXEC #1: “Did you check the staff lounge?  Usually the menu guys hide in there.”

DVD EXEC #2: “Nope.  Didn’t see anybody.”

DVD EXEC #1: “Well, how ‘bout the bathroom?  Did you check in there?”

DVD EXEC #2: “…shit.”

….and scene!

Well, with that mystery solved, I’m guessing the DVD company said “fuck it,” and hired a group of slow monkeys to design the menu.  Monkeys with irreparable brain damage; mostly resulting from horrific skydiving accidents, head-on train collisions, and from surviving screenings of Kristen Stewart movies.  You know, all the typical monkey shenanigans.

The sloppy, half-assed DVD menus even screw up the title of one of the films.  How is that even possible?  And I am well aware that I know nothing about creating DVD menus, but, come on!  Put a little effort into it!  You know you’re slacking off when I’m calling you out on your laziness.  I get winded unwrapping an Abba Zabba bar.  Shit, my professor for my “Intro to Taxidermy” class had to give me mouth-to-mouth once because I fainted from raising my hand too long.

He still sends me valentines every year.

Then again, maybe there was no money left in the budget to produce a respectable DVD menu.  Or maybe my brain is so ravaged by whiskey and jalapeno poppers that I’ve lost all touch with rationality and reality…

And with that, let’s examine The Legend of Sorrow Creek a little more closely, shall we?

What is it?

A movie in a DVD collection.

What did it cost?

A whopping 5 bucks.  Now, I’m no mathematician or anything, but 5 bucks for eight movies works out to, like, 25 cents per movie or something!  Holy crap!  It’s a steal!  Right?  Right?

Where was it purchased?

At a Target store that, for reasons I’m still trying to rationalize, smelled oddly of pancakes.

How was it?

Oh boy…

The Legend of Sorrow Creek (or, as it’s billed on the DVD menu, Legend of Sorrow Creek), is like watching a fat guy dog paddle in the shallow end of a pool.  It’s slightly pathetic, slightly horrific, and, after a few minutes of watching him flail about, it becomes very tiring.

The Legend of Sorrow Creek is about a place called, wait for it…Sorrow Creek!  And this place is cursed…or something.  I’m not really sure, I was checking my phone during the long, drawn out exposition scene that comes directly after the confusing opening scene.  From what I can gather, a woman in the “olden days,” was accused of being a heretic and her house was burned down and her eyes were plucked out and she hanged herself and blah, blah, blah….

None of it makes any sense, which foreshadows the incoherent nature of the rest of the movie.  A movie that  focuses on four twenty-somethings (2 guys, 2 girls, and no cups), who make their way through Sorrow Creek, busying themselves by fishing and examining ruins  that look like they were set-dressed with props from The Blair Witch Project.  Then they head over to a house in the middle of the woods and weird shit starts happening.

Weird, arbitrary, and boring shit.

Will the youngsters make it out of the house alive?  Will any of the characters become possessed?  Will Gabe continue to check his phone?

Okay, for the most part, the flick is pretty damn tedious and inexplicable.  I still don’t know what the hell the “Legend” is, and, in the span of 74 minutes, I checked my phone 8 times.  And these weren’t just “Oh, let’s see if I have any new messages,” check-ins.  No, these were full-on “Huh, I wonder what’s going on in international news today.  I haven’t looked up information on Zimbabwe’s emerging textile industry in awhile, maybe I should give that a go…” 

Not all is lost though, since the film contains a new benchmark for “Biggest Pussy in a Leading Role.”  Oh, if only the Academy recognized such accomplishments!

Let me explain…It, hands down, contains the lamest protagonist in any film, ever.  You see, this character and his girlfriend are trapped in the house, and, well, let’s just say he has an interesting way of dealing with all the weird, arbitrary and boring shit going on around him.

How does he deal with a friend getting slaughtered by a possessed woman? He cries.  And hangs his head.  And hugs his girlfriend.  How does he deal with an old, menacing lumberjack who may or may not be trying to get into the house?  He cries.  And hangs his head.  And hugs his girlfriend.  His response to everything in life involves crying and hanging his head.  Oh yeah, and hugging his girlfriend.

He is the biggest pussy that has ever existed in any form of entertainment in the history of entertainment.  Did I mention he cries a lot?  And hangs his head?  And hugs his girlfriend?  And does all of these things simultaneously?

Finally, a horror film with an emo protagonist!  Hooray!  My letters to film companies have finally paid off!

Anyway, I estimate these crying, hanging head, and hugging scenes comprise roughly 72 of the 74 minutes of the film.

And holy hell, do these scenes linger, man.

Have you ever seen the highly overrated and infuriating movie Drive?  It stars an unconvincingly brooding Ryan Gosling, whose character speaks about three words throughout the whole film and, when he’s not saying those three words, he’s either staring at walls or staring at the ceiling.

For minutes on end.

While watching The Legend of Sorrow Creek, I felt like this character from Drive.  Oh yeah, I unconvincingly brooded and stared at the walls and the ceiling.  Then I stared at my cell phone.

Over and over again. 

Anyway, there are a couple of things the film has going for it.  For one thing, the two main actors do a great job of incessantly crying, so that’s something.  And I’m not being condescending either.  They really throw themselves into their roles.  I would be hard pressed to emote on camera, on account of me being a borderline sociopath, so I give these fearless actors a hearty “Kudos!”

Also, there are moments where I could sense an inkling of atmosphere and mood.  These elements never really take flight, but, with the right script, a bigger budget, and more professional actors, the director might be able to stick to the landing.  Unfortunately, the only truly effective moments happen during the conclusion, which clearly rips off the aforementioned The Blair Witch Project.  The Legend of Sorrow Creek completely shifts gears and develops another tone/style that, while derivative, is nonetheless compelling.  However, it works on a more visual and emotional level than on a logical level.  So, while I appreciate the effort, I am still left scratching my head at the end result.

On top of this, the minimal use of CGI was not too spectacular.  Once again, I appreciate the effort…so keep fighting the good fight low-budget filmmakers!  Make Gabe proud!

...and scene!

I rarely buy anything.  Every now and again I’ll splurge for a nice bottle of whiskey, or I’ll go have my pubic mound “bedazzled.”  But, for the most part, I am one frugal son of a bitch.  This is mainly because I find most goods and services wildly overpriced.  Plus, ever since my intricate and lucrative “groin pull” scam quit working (I’d purposefully con people into pulling my groin, then sue them for damages), I’ve been fervently counting every penny.  And every nickel.  But not every dime.

I fucking hate dimes!

Anywho, in my eternal quest to locate affordable entertainment, I’ve been scavenging the unholy “bargain bins” in my local haberdasheries for items that are not too horrific or emotionally scarring.  You know what these bins are, right?  They’re commonly filled with low-priced delectables like old Kool and the Gang 8-Track tapes and Pez dispensers of obscure Dick Tracy villains (like the nefarious “Penis-Nose Thompson,” or, my favorite, the evil “Testicle-Cheek Malone”).

Lately, after I’m finished crying in my bathtub (due to my “extreme exfoliating”), I head to the nearest Wal-Mart and scour their bins for a treat for myself.  It’s also a treat gawking at the monstrous and fleshy men and women who shuffle across the fetid aisles like obese, spongy, and stinky zombies; all blank-faced and whatnot.  It’s an awesome night out!

So, without further ado, here is my first review of a bargain-bin find; the 72 minute-long endurance test…Killjoy!

What is it?

A DVD “movie.”

What did it cost?

Two pennies and some belly lint.  Oh yeah, and my dignity.

Where was it purchased?

Haggled with a hobo in an alleyway who was mistakenly using the movie as a hotplate.

How was it?

Have you ever been stabbed in the pancreas with a sharpened broom handle?  Sure you have!  I can only imagine that it would be slightly more enjoyable than sitting through this slimy turd of a flick.

And have you ever wondered what it would be like to see the movie Boyz in the Hood dry hump a Juggalo?  Well, today’s your lucky day, jerkass!

Killjoy is the surprisingly untrue tale of Michael, a teenager (who looks like he’s in this mid-30’s), who is constantly trying to win the affection of his schoolmate Jada (who is sporadically referred to as “Gina” throughout the movie).  Of course, Jada is the girlfriend of fellow “teen” Lorenzo (who looks to be in his mid-40’s).  Apparently, Lorenzo is in a gang, which is evidenced by his two…count ‘em, two, gang buddies.  To hammer this point home, there is a brilliant scene where they smoke blunts, drink forties, and freestyle rap.  It’s like watching Menace 2 Society, but without the good writing, awesome acting, and incredible direction!

Anyway, since Michael is an annoying prick who won’t leave Lorenzo’s girl alone, Lorenzo and his buddies justifiably beat the ever-loving crap out of him.  Of course, Michael does what any of us would do in retaliation; he lights a bunch of candles in his empty bedroom and screams “Come alive Killjoy!  Come alive!” to a chewed-up clown doll.

Then Lorenzo mistakenly kills Michael with a gun that is supposed to be unloaded.

Flash-forward a year later and Jada (Gina?) is hooking up with a guy who kind of looks like Tyrese, but Lorenzo still has his hooks in Jada, which is of great concern to the faux-Tyrese.  Why is Lorenzo still in her life?  Mainly because she gave up her virginity to him.  Seems like a valid reason to keep hanging out with a homicidal maniac to me!

As expected, Michael’s black magic ritual finally brings Killjoy to life (it took a whole fucking year for this to work!), who exacts revenge on all seven cast members.  He accomplishes this by yanking them into his magical ice cream truck, which miraculously transports them to Killjoy’s hideout.  It’s like when Freddy Krueger drags his victims to his boiler room, only without all the suspense, great set decoration, or grasp of anything coherent.

Did I mention that Killjoy is a clown with a hammerhead-shaped afro?  He’s what would happen if Ronald McDonald ever decided to drop this hamburger bullshit and become a pimp. 

Oh yeah, there’s also a magical bum in the movie who is credited as “Homeless Man,” but who should’ve been more accurately credited as “The Magical Bum Who Explains the Whole Movie to All of the 40-Year Old ‘Teens.’”  It’s pretty amazing how inept, clumsy, and confusing this movie is, especially considering its short running time and its complete absence of plot.  And what’s really pathetic is that this magical bum spends about five minutes detailing Killjoy’s motives and why everything is happening…and it still doesn’t make any fucking sense! 

And trust me, I’m well aware that bums have very specific sets of skills and talents, but is precognition one of them?  I think not, sir! 

Anyway, Killjoy kills everybody in boring and ludicrous ways (he plows one guy into a wall with his ice cream truck, even though it’s clearly evident that the truck is not moving and the guy is not physically hit by anything…the camera just zooms into his face as he flinches), and the 40 year-old teens need to find a way to destroy him.

And all of this is accomplished with about four different sets, absolutely no background extras (the street scenes are completely devoid of traffic and pedestrians), and nonstop background music that veers between vaguely hip-hop-esque beats to lush, Yanni-like soundscapes.

The special effects are atrocious, the one liners made me want to punch my balls, and the confusing editing and camera placement gave me herpes.  And a rash.  Seriously, there are shots that fail to establish what is going on.  How is that possible?  At one point, I thought there were two Killjoys’ in the film, but then I realized it was just crappy editing.

Killjoy comes close to being the only film whose title perfectly summarizes my feelings after viewing it (the other film would be Mr. Popper’s Penguins).  But, if I were to be honest, a more accurate name for the movie would be Sodomizing Happiness.

Clearly, the end of days are upon us because there are sequels to this atrocity.  Three of them, to be exact.  The fourth film hasn’t been released yet, but I’ve already started to stock my bomb shelter with old 8-Tracks and mountains of Pez.

Buyer beware!

P.S.  There’s a “Midnight Horror Collection” DVD that includes the first three films of this series.  I have heard that they get progressively better…but that’s like trading in a car with two tires for a car with three tires. 

P.P.S.  Famed straight-to-video producer/director/writer/schlockmeister Charles Band had a hand in this production.  He’s the genius who brought us the glorious Demonic Toys and the classic Dollman.  He also brought us the gloriously classic Dollman vs. Demonic Toys.  And now I will utter words that have never been uttered before (every article I write is spoken to a secretary who transcribes my insane ramblings)…Killjoy is no Dollman!

Recently I experienced a two-fisted pummeling to the cranium from a pair of films promising goofiness, violence, and good-old-fashioned retro exploitation.  A pair of films drenched in sweat and testosterone.  A pair of films crammed with kinetic action and dumb fun. ]]>http://planettobor.com/garzas-goods/rss-comments-entry-9660120.xmlGabriel GarzaSun, 08 Aug 2010 07:34:02 +0000http://planettobor.com/garzas-goods/2010/8/8/pitas-perverts-island-of-death-review.html439907:9035843:8493380Several images come to mind when I think about Greece.  Like gyros, hummus, feta cheese, pita bread, and, of course, a guy screwing a goat.  Yep.  A guy screwing a goat. ]]>http://planettobor.com/garzas-goods/rss-comments-entry-8493380.xmlGabriel GarzaSat, 07 Aug 2010 22:37:33 +0000http://planettobor.com/garzas-goods/2010/8/7/comic-con-2010-booze-aplenty.html439907:9035843:8491267Four days.  Four hard, long days.  Days crammed with horrific smells.  Days devoted to the mindless shuffling of weary feet.  Days spent ingesting semi-edible food and imbibing on plentiful amounts of hard liquor.

The San Diego Comic-Con is over.

Few films have truly misleading titles.  In fact, the only two I can think of are Howard’s End (I thought it was a gay porno), and Monkey Trouble (I thought it was a gay porno).  Well, now we can add Sweet Movie to this axis of confusion.  Why?  Well, there is nothing “sweet” about it.  And it barely qualifies as a “movie.” ]]>http://planettobor.com/garzas-goods/rss-comments-entry-7955908.xmlGabriel GarzaThu, 10 Jun 2010 21:03:15 +0000http://planettobor.com/garzas-goods/2010/6/10/lets-be-frank.html439907:9035843:7944913Our ship once had a stowaway.  I found him passed out in the bowels of the ship, right next to the poop deck.  His name was Jed and he had shuffled aboard somewhere near the Milky Way.  Jed was an old crusty fool who spoke monosyllabically and smelled like cashews.  After a week with us, Jed accidentally got sucked out of the airlock, which he had inadvertently mistaken for an outhouse door.  It was horrible.  I haven’t been able to eat a cashew since.]]>http://planettobor.com/garzas-goods/rss-comments-entry-7944913.xml