SoSheOhPathix
05-05-2010, 12:08 PM
So I'm a horror fanatic... I make no excuses. http://www.grrr.co.za/forum/MGalleryItem.php?id=26
If it involves mutated hillbillies, zombies, apocalyptic disease outbreaks or gratuitous violence and gore, I'll watch it (and probably play the game too).
So I spotted a DVD named 'Feast' the other day whilst browsing, sick to death of rerererewatching rererereruns on DSTV, which had a synopsis promising me inexplicable monsters chowing down on a diner full of people.
Then I spotted the sequel imaginitively titled 'Feast II'... A double feature! I had to get them both.
http://www.grrr.co.za/forum/MGalleryItem.php?id=27
So the wife (she tolerates these movies because more often than not, they are pretty funny, and we like to wager on who gets snacked first) and I settle down to an evening of mindless violence and bloodshed (none of which involved me for a change).
'Feast'
It starts off a bit like a Tarrantino film, introducing characters with flash stills of 'title pages' for everyone attendant in said grimy backwater diner.
Names like 'Hardass biker bitch' and others (there are 8 or so people, initially) that you aren't likely to see on a job application any time soon, unless you run HR at McDonalds in Buttcrack, Arkansas or some such.
Once everyone has been introduced, a hero arrives, covered in mamalian spare parts and explains that the thingamabobs are coming, and he has a head to prove it (in his hand, that is) which, startlingly enough, no one bothers to even examine.
"Oh look! A head from a monster with giant teeth, beady little eyes, prerequisite drool, and all... Ho Hum! Just another day in Buttcrack".
My response would invariably be more along the lines of "That's nice. Time to go. Check, please".
No. These people are too busy playing pool, playing hide-the-sausage upstairs, hurling abuse at each other and otherwise being, well.... American to take interest in a newly-evolved member of the carnivorous group known as 'super-predators'. That changes pretty quickly when a little one (a lot littler than the one whose head is decorating the bar counter, anyway) leaps through the window and starts running amok in the diner.
By amok, I mean slicing off limbs, face raping some moose head on the wall (see now? It's things like this that made me think Tarratino had something to do with it), screeching, howling, and generally making a nuisance of itself, as man-eating little monsters do when they are in diners...
It is 'dealt with', which seems to upset the bigger ones outside, which is kind of understandable under the circumstances. I imagine they were its parents. I also imagine that the basic concept of 'preservation of the species' is lost on them as they threw their offspring through a window into a grotty diner full of rednecks to begin with.
It goes rapidly downhill from this point. Walls are pummelled, boarded windows are smashed and rattled. Extremities are removed from rednecks. There is projectile vomit, projectile bloodletting, and ballistic projectiles aplenty. There is also more monster face-raping (WTF? I mean, really... how does this add to the already wanting plot? (I use the word plot very loosely here)), explosions, screaming, whining, running, dying, etc.
Never is there any attempt made to rationalise what these things are, where they came from, or exactly the nature of the stick up their collective ass which makes them attack and kill, but not actually consume the peeps in the dining establishment.
Or the face-raping thing, either... Maybe they did time or something...
Eventually, the sun comes up, and like all good movie monsters, they go away, leaving a few battered and bleeding humans to escape (one of which is the madatory cute chicky with no bra). Still no cops, despite an earlier heroic (albeit fatal) emergency radio transmission incident. Maybe this is actually set somewhere in SA.
Cue credits.
I still have another one of these to watch.... Where did I put that doob?
'Feast II'
This masterpiece is set in the grotty little town just down the drag from the grotty little diner. The survivors endured a night of madness, death, gore and face rape, but they drove about 10 km down the road and seek assylum in the sprawling megalopolis of Buttcrack...?
WTF is wrong with you people? At least cross the state line, ffs!
Apparently, Biker bitch had a friend/lover/sister/stalker with a matching tattoo on her hand.
We know this, because said hand is picked up by the aforementioned individual (the rest of her was blown to smithereens (which are just really small smithers) after the madatory face rapage (rather him than me... Eeeeeew) of course). Clearly, mosters aren't into 'finger food' (c'mon. That was funny!).
Anyway, it turns out that ugly hairy biker slag was a member of a all-girl (also used very loosely in context, although admittedly, two of them would be spanky if they wiped the 10kg of makeup off their faces and combed their hair... they will get their kit off later, so pay attention for that) bike gang.
You know the kind of gang... all ride big noisy Harleys with shotguns slung over their backs, have lots of switchblades, fishnet stockings, and probably a patch or two of really nasty road-rash (I doubt fishnet stockings and hot pants provide a lot of protection in a bike prang, and these chicks have no clue how to ride (a bike, that is. There are two in the group that... I digress...)).
The tough gang ride into town looking for whoever consumed all but nasty ugly smelly hag's hand, to get revenge.
They missed some vital clues on the way into town (loosely, very very loosely). Things that would have given them the heads-up on what they're getting into. Stuff like dismembered corpses, flaming cars, trashed buildings, screaming people crawling in the street (crawling coz they got no legs, not coz they're TV women that cannot run more than 2 paces without falling down).
Run, shoot, shoot, scream, run, die, run, scream, shoot... and a lot of swearing
Eventually, they house up with a pair of (Paul is really gonna like this part) midget wrestler locksmith brothers (one is English, the other hispanic, but we won't be going there, as it is such a small part of only one of the problems) and their grandmother... in an open-roof double storied garage...
Their masterplan is to get into the jail building, as it's secure. So secure in fact that a drug-dealer has locked himself in, and wont open up for anyone. Leaving town never occurs to these people...
They get hold of a dead thingamabob (might have been a thingamabill... they all look the same to me) and decide to do an autopsy (necropsy may be more applicable, but let's not get anal here) which is an entirely avoidable scene where various fluids rush out or numerous orifices and spatter on everyone's faces (again, people. Think. Step back just a little after the 18th litre of green stuff sprays in your face) but contributes absolutely nothing to an otherwise gripping plot.
And a rubber cat gets ass-raped, which was a nice change of pace from the first movie.
So they do an A Team number and build a contraption out of stuff in the garage, and most of the biker bird's clothing (apparently there was a lot of piping, lumber and whatnot, but no rope, cabling, or screws). I won't spoil your viewing pleasure by telling you what this ridiculous device was for. Suffice to say, it's sufficiently stupid as to get people killed... a lot of people, containing way too much blood (but the wazzits fix that).
As is par for such movies, almost everyone dies, except for half-naked blood-smeared bunny running down the street as the sun begins to set.
Yes, I too noticed that the normally-nocturnal monsters evolved on their walk from diner to town, and are now diurnal but still haven't figured out language or tool use (unless wearing a corpse is considered 'using' a 'tool').
Still no cops, despite someone phoning their stupid, lazy, doughnut-munching inbred asses.
The good news is, when I was at the DVD store yesterday, I saw that Feast III is being released later in May.
Yup, just like the 'Wrong Turn' films, I'll probably end up seeing it.
If it involves mutated hillbillies, zombies, apocalyptic disease outbreaks or gratuitous violence and gore, I'll watch it (and probably play the game too).
So I spotted a DVD named 'Feast' the other day whilst browsing, sick to death of rerererewatching rererereruns on DSTV, which had a synopsis promising me inexplicable monsters chowing down on a diner full of people.
Then I spotted the sequel imaginitively titled 'Feast II'... A double feature! I had to get them both.
http://www.grrr.co.za/forum/MGalleryItem.php?id=27
So the wife (she tolerates these movies because more often than not, they are pretty funny, and we like to wager on who gets snacked first) and I settle down to an evening of mindless violence and bloodshed (none of which involved me for a change).
'Feast'
It starts off a bit like a Tarrantino film, introducing characters with flash stills of 'title pages' for everyone attendant in said grimy backwater diner.
Names like 'Hardass biker bitch' and others (there are 8 or so people, initially) that you aren't likely to see on a job application any time soon, unless you run HR at McDonalds in Buttcrack, Arkansas or some such.
Once everyone has been introduced, a hero arrives, covered in mamalian spare parts and explains that the thingamabobs are coming, and he has a head to prove it (in his hand, that is) which, startlingly enough, no one bothers to even examine.
"Oh look! A head from a monster with giant teeth, beady little eyes, prerequisite drool, and all... Ho Hum! Just another day in Buttcrack".
My response would invariably be more along the lines of "That's nice. Time to go. Check, please".
No. These people are too busy playing pool, playing hide-the-sausage upstairs, hurling abuse at each other and otherwise being, well.... American to take interest in a newly-evolved member of the carnivorous group known as 'super-predators'. That changes pretty quickly when a little one (a lot littler than the one whose head is decorating the bar counter, anyway) leaps through the window and starts running amok in the diner.
By amok, I mean slicing off limbs, face raping some moose head on the wall (see now? It's things like this that made me think Tarratino had something to do with it), screeching, howling, and generally making a nuisance of itself, as man-eating little monsters do when they are in diners...
It is 'dealt with', which seems to upset the bigger ones outside, which is kind of understandable under the circumstances. I imagine they were its parents. I also imagine that the basic concept of 'preservation of the species' is lost on them as they threw their offspring through a window into a grotty diner full of rednecks to begin with.
It goes rapidly downhill from this point. Walls are pummelled, boarded windows are smashed and rattled. Extremities are removed from rednecks. There is projectile vomit, projectile bloodletting, and ballistic projectiles aplenty. There is also more monster face-raping (WTF? I mean, really... how does this add to the already wanting plot? (I use the word plot very loosely here)), explosions, screaming, whining, running, dying, etc.
Never is there any attempt made to rationalise what these things are, where they came from, or exactly the nature of the stick up their collective ass which makes them attack and kill, but not actually consume the peeps in the dining establishment.
Or the face-raping thing, either... Maybe they did time or something...
Eventually, the sun comes up, and like all good movie monsters, they go away, leaving a few battered and bleeding humans to escape (one of which is the madatory cute chicky with no bra). Still no cops, despite an earlier heroic (albeit fatal) emergency radio transmission incident. Maybe this is actually set somewhere in SA.
Cue credits.
I still have another one of these to watch.... Where did I put that doob?
'Feast II'
This masterpiece is set in the grotty little town just down the drag from the grotty little diner. The survivors endured a night of madness, death, gore and face rape, but they drove about 10 km down the road and seek assylum in the sprawling megalopolis of Buttcrack...?
WTF is wrong with you people? At least cross the state line, ffs!
Apparently, Biker bitch had a friend/lover/sister/stalker with a matching tattoo on her hand.
We know this, because said hand is picked up by the aforementioned individual (the rest of her was blown to smithereens (which are just really small smithers) after the madatory face rapage (rather him than me... Eeeeeew) of course). Clearly, mosters aren't into 'finger food' (c'mon. That was funny!).
Anyway, it turns out that ugly hairy biker slag was a member of a all-girl (also used very loosely in context, although admittedly, two of them would be spanky if they wiped the 10kg of makeup off their faces and combed their hair... they will get their kit off later, so pay attention for that) bike gang.
You know the kind of gang... all ride big noisy Harleys with shotguns slung over their backs, have lots of switchblades, fishnet stockings, and probably a patch or two of really nasty road-rash (I doubt fishnet stockings and hot pants provide a lot of protection in a bike prang, and these chicks have no clue how to ride (a bike, that is. There are two in the group that... I digress...)).
The tough gang ride into town looking for whoever consumed all but nasty ugly smelly hag's hand, to get revenge.
They missed some vital clues on the way into town (loosely, very very loosely). Things that would have given them the heads-up on what they're getting into. Stuff like dismembered corpses, flaming cars, trashed buildings, screaming people crawling in the street (crawling coz they got no legs, not coz they're TV women that cannot run more than 2 paces without falling down).
Run, shoot, shoot, scream, run, die, run, scream, shoot... and a lot of swearing
Eventually, they house up with a pair of (Paul is really gonna like this part) midget wrestler locksmith brothers (one is English, the other hispanic, but we won't be going there, as it is such a small part of only one of the problems) and their grandmother... in an open-roof double storied garage...
Their masterplan is to get into the jail building, as it's secure. So secure in fact that a drug-dealer has locked himself in, and wont open up for anyone. Leaving town never occurs to these people...
They get hold of a dead thingamabob (might have been a thingamabill... they all look the same to me) and decide to do an autopsy (necropsy may be more applicable, but let's not get anal here) which is an entirely avoidable scene where various fluids rush out or numerous orifices and spatter on everyone's faces (again, people. Think. Step back just a little after the 18th litre of green stuff sprays in your face) but contributes absolutely nothing to an otherwise gripping plot.
And a rubber cat gets ass-raped, which was a nice change of pace from the first movie.
So they do an A Team number and build a contraption out of stuff in the garage, and most of the biker bird's clothing (apparently there was a lot of piping, lumber and whatnot, but no rope, cabling, or screws). I won't spoil your viewing pleasure by telling you what this ridiculous device was for. Suffice to say, it's sufficiently stupid as to get people killed... a lot of people, containing way too much blood (but the wazzits fix that).
As is par for such movies, almost everyone dies, except for half-naked blood-smeared bunny running down the street as the sun begins to set.
Yes, I too noticed that the normally-nocturnal monsters evolved on their walk from diner to town, and are now diurnal but still haven't figured out language or tool use (unless wearing a corpse is considered 'using' a 'tool').
Still no cops, despite someone phoning their stupid, lazy, doughnut-munching inbred asses.
The good news is, when I was at the DVD store yesterday, I saw that Feast III is being released later in May.
Yup, just like the 'Wrong Turn' films, I'll probably end up seeing it.