Purvos

What?  Was that misleading?  Did having the title of the movie, as well as an image of the movie at the top of this review, somehow give you the impression I was actually going to review it?  Well, I'm not.  Do you know why?  Because I put in a movie with a sick, demented looking clown on the cover, and while watching all god knows how many minutes of this movie, there was no fucking clown.  Not clown one!  So, since I was deceived, you were as well.

Here's my review for this movie:  (Insert the sounds of me taking a shit here).

Before today, director/writer Jacob Ennis had a one star average with The B-Movie Nerd.  So, if I gave this movie a half a star, he'd still have a 3/4 star average.  To ensure that doesn't happen, I'm effectively giving this movie -1 star, making Jacob Ennis' B-Movie Nerd average a big, flaming ZERO, which was the exact amount of clowns in this fucking movie!

Fuck you, Jacob Ennis!  I hope you die of typhoid!

STASH

First and foremost, yes this movie's title refers to what you're thinking, but there's more to it.  As you can see from the cover, this movie is no Killer Bud.  But I can say for sure, whomever wrote this movie was surely smoking something.

Here's the premise:  A female's (Sarah) car breaks down on a country road, and she's offered a ride by two hillbilly, redneck "gangstas".  This ride would prove nearly fatal for Sarah, as you could imagine, as she's brought to the home of the Hillbilly Jim-looking Bud.  Turns out, Stan and CJ, the hillbilly's who picked up Sarah, broke into Bud's home and stole some of his pot, but Bud busted them.  He then offered them a wager: if they brought him three girls in three days, he'd let them live.  Bud apparently experts in human trafficking of sorts, but doesn't really track the girls.  He just chains them up in rooms with stone wallpapering, and tortures and rapes them repeatedly.  It would usually be a little disturbing to watch women being came upon by this fat, dirty hillbilly fuck, if it weren't for the fact that he yells, "Shazam!" every time he came.  Sorry, but that just made it a little too funny, though, possibly a Family Guy reference or rip-off.

The story also centers around Sarah's family.  Her father is a cop, as seems to be the case with any story of kidnapping, and aids local police in the investigation of his own daughter, which, by the way, would never actually happen in real life. 

The movie also centers around a rather disturbing relationship between CJ and his prostitute mother.  Every scene with the two together in the movie, they're fighting, but it's in such a weird way that you don't know if they're going to start swinging blows or fucking each other.  I guess that's normal in trailer park homes, but I've thankfully never experienced that myself.  Eventually, CJ's mother kicks him out of the home, which isn't very long before he's caught by police and questioned.

CJ leads the police to Bud, who then has the usual movie showdown with police which ends in a cliche happy ending, as you may have guessed.

Well, actually, it leaves room for a sequel, which I must hope never happens.  After Sarah is saved, the writer takes a cheap ending, having Sarah run down the real ending of the movie as written in her diary.  But just after she says, "This town will never have to go through this again," we get a scene cut to Bud's grave.  A child is standing in front of it.  A very, very, very deformed, hillbilly flipper of a child, who proclaims, "I won't letchu dayoon, dadday!"  Yeah, fucking great, right.

Overall, the Jacob Ellis film would have been decent, if it weren't for just a few factors:  1.  I couldn't watch Bud do anything without hearing "Don't Go Messin' with a Country Boy" in my head, thus relieving me of any intended discomfort from the snuff in the film.  2.  Jack Begley's acting, Sarah's father, annoyed me so much, it made me hope that Sarah gets cut up and found pregnant in three pieces.  3.  Despite the first girl being nude through all of her scenes, Sarah never gets below her underwear, which seems incredibly inconsistent with Bud's proclivities.

I wouldn't watch it a second time.  In fact, I'd rather see fire and brimstone falling from the sky!  I'd rather see Rivers and seas boiling!  40 years of darkness, earthquakes, and volcanoes!  The dead rising from the grave!  Human sacrifices, dogs and cats living together!  And I guess, while I'm at it, I'd rather strap and unlicensed nuclear accelerator to my back and fight a she-bitch from hell and her hounds of hell atop a wobbly NY high rise, only to hear a giant marshmallow man heading my way to tear my head off.

I'll give it a star for the hilarity it brought me, but like I said, it didn't bring me anything else.  No other emotions at all.  Just pure laughter.  It might as well have been Saw!

I do, however, have one extra side-note for the man who wrote the song at the end of this movie.  I seriously hope you get gagged and water boarded a thousand times, then you have kerosene-soaked toothpicks stuck into your cuticles, and lit on fire until you finally combust and your body can be disposed of in a septic tank where it truly belongs.

Bad Girls from Mars.

Okay, it might be unfair to review this one, since it's a bad b-movie about the making of bad b-movies, therefore, it's bad on purpose, but I digress and really don't care.

Here's the premise:

We start the movie with a pretty funny warning that whenever you hear a funny horn sound, you should close your eyes to avoid seeing sexually explicit scenes.  Okay, so that's kind of funny.  Cue space credits.  Then we open up with a movie being made that could easily be a bad HBO film.  There, you see that?  Tits in the first three minutes.

Here's where things start to piss me off.  The title is misleading as hell.  I saw "Bad Girls from Mars" and obviously I assumed that would be the movie.  Some hot martian women getting naked all the time in sexy alien suits with no discernible story - just some twisted earthly invasion seeking earth cock or something like that.  Unfortunately, that is only the premise of the film that's being made within the film.  Yes, the movie is actually about the movie "Bad Girls from Mars" having production problems because someone is killing off all of the female leads.  I envy the guy who'd been offered a stunt cock about five minutes in, as I'd really like to hire a stunt cock to suck this movie down for me.  Or at least a fluffer to get me through it.

Ten minutes in, I hear the name Emanuele, but don't worry, it's not that one.  Although it could easily have been a parody of the woman who played Emanuele in that god awful series.  Apparently, "she's got great tits."

Alright, I already wish this movie were Copernicus and I were the pope.  To death with you, fucker.

The movie continues.  Everyone is some sort of moral cesspool of a human being, thus justifying their deaths.  Although, as you'll notice in these Z-Rate attempts at splatstick comedy, there's never any resemblance of the good horror system.  There's never the virgin or the Ahab.  Sorry, but any horror or horror/comedy flick needs a virgin and an Ahab, because there are your survivors.  I didn't even stick around until the end of the movie to see if there was one.  I couldn't!  It's unwatchable!  Even with all of the Russ Meyer-esque nudity and gratuitous tits everywhere, it's completely unwatchable.

The parts that are meant to be funny aren't, and the parts that seem to be meant to be splatstick seem to lack the splat, and seriously lack the stick!  Trying to sit through this movie is like sitting through the original Ghostbusters game for NES, when you have everything you need to enter the Zuul building, but it seems to take an hour and a half to start blinking, thus allowing you inside.  Except this movie is one step further.  It's like finally being allowed access to the Zuul building after an hour and a half, but then dying right away inside, because a ghost is just waiting by the door for you and there's nothing you can do about it.

The moral of this review is that tits, no matter how nice and frequent they might be, does not make for a good B-Movie.  It takes tits, tack, truth, terror, and titillation.  This movie only had number one, and I might even say - yeah, I might even say - a little too much of it.

Of a list of things I'd rather do than watch this movie again, I'd have to include being slowly eaten alive by rabid squirrels with AIDS, while being forced to watch a naked fat girl eat her own shit.  However, here's my review.  I give it one star.  One star for the tits and the originality, even though the original idea sucked.  Or at least the execution did.

Pushed to the Limit.

Did this movie suck?  I don't know.  Is the atomic weight of cobalt 58.9?  I at least expected to be worthy of a late-night Cinemax film based on the cover, but it made those movies look like they had an $80 million budget.

This movie was called Pushed to the Limit.  I have to say, I expected to hear the classic song "Push it to the Limit" at least once in this movie.  Or maybe anything other than a soundtrack that sounds a little like it was thrown together on Mario Paint, just without the talent to actually make it sound decent.

Here's the premise:

The film is about a pro wrestling queen, The Magnificent Mimi (Mimi Lesseos) who finds out that a gangster is responsible for her brother's death and trains in kickboxing to avenge his death.  No really, that's it.  You know how most wrestling movies in history had some sense of drama to them as well?  This one did not.  If it did, it was lost in the acting. 

Okay, Mimi wrestles a match, very erotically I might add, in the opening credits, to some music that sounds like Ron Jeremy ought to be making spit-fire all over some school girl's face to it.  After the match, there's about five minutes of her meeting someone who is not even of any consequence later in the movie.  Then she drives home to see her mom, who is apparently not supportive of her pro wrestling career.  Minutes pass and I have no idea what's going on or what anyone is talking about.  I guess the plot isn't any of my business.  Finally, her brother enters with a black eye that causes arousal, but I don't really know exactly why, because the screenplay was apparently only written for those who'd read the book and already know everything.  Oh, there was no book?  Imagine that.  It sounds like something Harlequin would put out with Fabio on the cover for unexplained reasons.

Then there's some more talking and finally Mimi walks into the bathroom, without knocking, and catches her brother snorting coke.  A lot of coke, mind you.  And yes, it was that movie coke that looks nothing like real life cocaine.  It just looks like baking powder.  She's angry.  The family has dinner and while people are talking, Mimi exchanges horribly acted looks to her brother, which are more than reciprocated - not the looks as much as the horrible acting is reciprocated.  Then she leaves.

Some things happen, then some more things happen.  Then some other thing happens.  She leaves for Vegas as a dancing fill-in for some girl.  The dance scenes are about the only erotic thing about this whole erotic B-tale.  And I must say that the Magnificent Mimi in a full body leopard costume is about as erotic as walking in on your grandmother changing her underwear and you notice she'd shit her pants and it had been sitting there for at least sixteen months.

Finally, her brother is killed and her husband is in the hospital for whatever reason.  I can't really fill you in on the plot from this point until the end, as I decided to start skipping the Netflix viewer forward at this point.  So, I just got those little singular photos for about every thirty seconds of the movie and put the plot together myself from this point forward.  And let me tell you, it was much better, although I'd intended for it to end with a ninja zombie, but the photos didn't allow for that. 

Basically, here's the synopsis:  If you take First Blood, Hard to Kill, Bloodsport, Kickboxer, Double Trouble, and any late night movie starring Julie Strain; take out any and all eroticism or nudity; omit any part that might have been accidentally good or important to what little plot there was; then put them all into a blender, take a shit on the mixture and feed it to a retarded kid who thinks he's supposed to eat with his asshole, and you have this movie.

I give this movie, of my five star system, one fractured and removed leg of one of my poor little stars who was unfortunate enough to watch this movie with me.  Why was his leg amputated?  Because he tried to fucking kill himself while watching the movie.  See, you can barely even see the poor little thing, and its former owner misses it greatly.  Do you feel good about yourself now, writer and star Mimi Lesseos?  And what kind of a fucking last name is that anyway?

Default Check

I am typing this to make certain that text shows up well in front of this damn png that doesn't seem to be saving as a transparent image very well at all, fuckers!