Reviews

This was the worst movie I have ever seen in my life. It was so bad, in fact, that it almost was the end of me. I was just barely able to get out of bed the next day. My credit card bills are climbing, my car payment is too high, I have a mortgage that's slowly strangling me, and I now must live with the knowledge that I can never un-see 'Splatter University.' It was almost too much to take. Ultimately, I got out of bed to feed my fish--and I couldn't let anything happen to myself while they were dependent on me to live. God only knows where I'd be right now if I didn't have a fish tank.

This movie takes place over a span of a couple weeks. Yet in every scene, all the characters are wearing the same clothes. If I had to listen to that idiot with the sleeveless blue t-shirt on howl like a wolf one more time, I was going to put my head through the tv.

When I rented it, I was hoping for a college slasher romp, fraught with scantily clad college-aged honeys. None of that here. How about great make-up fx and gallons of blood? Try again. A creepy killer that was good for at least ONE scare? Nope.

I never in a million years would think that a movie with a running time of 79 MINUTES could feel so long. But now that I know, there's no going back. You see, I've graduated from Splatter University, and it weighs on my conscience like a student loan with payments made directly to hell.

If my one-word summary drew you in to read this, making you think this would be a rave review of this horrendous piece of trash, then you know how I felt when I picked up the box for this movie, thought it might be cool and watched it. This is easily the worst movie I have ever seen in my entire life.

I can't really talk about the plot because whenever I think about the storyline of this ridiculous excuse for cinema, I suffer alternating waves of nausea and fatigue.

I racked my brain, trying to figure out how this movie could've been made--because, quite simply, it defies logic. Then one day, I awoke from a dream, and before my mind was a vision. And then, o! how clear it was! The answer was given to me, and now, I must tell it to you.

One day, a magic ape escaped from the zoo. During its adventure in the outside world, the ape found a winning lottery ticket blowing around in the street. Since primates can't collect lottery winnings, the magic ape befriended a local neighborhood boy whom nobody played with and was in need of a heart transplant. The ape and the boy adored each other and became the dearest of friends. The magic ape then gave the ticket to the boy's father to collect the winnings for him. But before they could make it to the local convenience store, the zoo keepers caught up with the ape!

During the capture, it was discovered that the ape and the boy were the same blood type and that the boy could receive the transplant of the magic ape's heart. While they were lying in the pre-op room, both beast and boy on the table, the boy's father leaned in close and whispered to the ape, "What should I do? Tell me!" The ape then let out a series of grunts and murmurs that the boy's father loosely interpreted as the premise for a horror film about vampires taking over the world, as well as instructions for using the lottery winnings to finance said film.

I don't know if the kid lived or not, but his stupid father sure did get this atrocity filmed and distributed.

This was yet another in a series of ridiculous movies I have intentionally rented to make good on my vow of revenge against my friend Marc for making me watch equally bad films. This one definitely would've done the job--had the frumpy heroine and bad dialogue not put him to sleep instantly.

After a lifetime of watching movies and searching for the greatest moment in cinematic history, I've finally found it. Is it Orson Welles' breathless death-rattle of `. . . rosebud.' In Citizen Kane? No. How about Al Pacino giving Fredo the kiss of death in Godfather II? Try again. What about Peter Finch screaming into the Network camera `I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it ANYMORE!' . . . not even close.

Are you ready? Here it is: the greatest moment in contemporary motion picture history is . . . in Teen Wolf Too when Jason Bateman (as the Wolf) runs across the park, leaps through the air in slow motion, and comes down with a Frisbee in his mouth-all without losing that stupid hat he had on!

Oh, but this film is peppered with other fantastic gems. Like the part where the Wolf and Chubby where cruising around in the University Corvette (what, your school didn't have one?) and they almost ran that guy on the bike over and the Wolf just kept laughing and laughing--good times; or what about when Chubby was in the ring and he bounced the smaller guy into the ropes, put his hand on his hip, twirled his fist and knocked the kid out; ew! ew! ew! I know! What about when the Wolf was singing `Do You Love Me!' Remember? When he had that little suit on and he was strutting his choreographed stuff with the team of wannabe Solid Gold Dancers? Box office dynamite!

I don't remember a huge portion of this film, because the part of my brain that controls my higher cognitive functions shut down somewhere between the part where Chubby farts and Stiles sits in the smell and the part where the science teacher walks away from Gomez Addams with a tail wagging from under her skirt. Just thinking about it makes my lobes tingle and go numb.

If there was one thing worse than the moron who played Stiles in Teen Wolf, it has got to be the guy that played Stiles in Teen Wolf Too. Oh my God that guy was horrible. The only highlight of this movie was when Stiles gets punched-out in between rounds of the big climactic fight scene-I like it because I've convinced myself that it was an outtake and he REALLY got hit. Take THAT Stuart Fratkin! What was he thinking? `Yeah, I landed a SWEET gig on Teen Wolf Too-I'm STILES! Just the springboard my career needs!' Yeah, look out DeNiro, here comes Stuart Fratkin.

My buddy Marc brought this movie over to my house and I'm not sure what to think. This is the same friend that exposed me to Pumpkinhead 2. The only thing I can figure is that he is one of many alien infiltrators sent to Earth to use bad movies to brainwash people into a zombie-like trance, making way for an alien take over. To those in a similar circumstance, I say RESIST! You're not taking my soul with Teen Wolf Too, Marc! I'm on to you fella!

I'm going to preface this by saying, I enjoyed Pumpkinhead I. It was a good story about backwoods lore. Though the camera found the monster a little too often (Stan Winston can be forgiven for falling in love with his creation, though) it was a good 80's popcorn horror flick.

Having said that, the people who made Pumpkinhead 2: Bloodwings, should be skinned alive, strapped to a chair with their eyelids peeled open and forced to watch this ridiculous piece of garbage again and again. Did Andrew Robinson even read the script before he showed up to shoot this train-wreck?

You were in Hellraiser for God's sake, have some pride!

Did these idiots even watch the first film? Was that old woman supposed to be the same witch that stole Lance Henricksen's soul? I hope not--because otherwise, it's quite an accomplishment that she was suddenly good, and that her name was changed.

The fifties flashback? The mullet-ed mayor with the guitar? The annoying medical examiner who--for some strange reason is ALWAYS at the sheriff's house? And the idea that this new Pumpkinhead was the hell-spawn of the old Pumpkinhead and some "not so special woman" is idiotic. What? Are you trying to tell me they slept together? Did you see the first movie? If you look closely, you'll notice that ol' Pumpkinhead isn't exactly anatomically correct.

The absolute most horrendous part of this movie came in the character of Paul--otherwise known as the friend who didn't get any throughout the whole film. I want to say something to Paul right now, are you listening? You had no point at all in this film. You deserved to get killed for those stupid clothes you had on. Your one job was to go and get the car from around front--you couldn't even do that right. May God have mercy on your soul.

I don't know why God let this movie get made. My buddy Marc told me I had to watch it because it was so stupid. I believed him beforehand, but--in a Twilight Zone-ian sense, I had no idea HOW RIGHT he was. I want to conjure Pumpkinhead to come get him for having brought it home from the video store.

I feel like having watched this movie, I've somehow been exposed to some great and terrible contagion that will make me incapable of appreciating a good movie ever again.

This is the worst movie I have ever seen in my entire life. Directed by Samo Hung (who would later leap to the ENORMOUS manstream success starring opposite Aresnio Hall in the ground-breaking TV show "Martial Law"), this film weaves an incoherent storyline with an equally incoherent Jackie Chan.

The result is a series of amazing, death-defying stunts, that leaves the audience wishing that Jackie Chan WOULD get caught by the spinning saw blade or even a stray bullet. By the time an un-explained monster truck barrels through the drug-lord's glass house at the end, however, I was hoping a stray bullet would hit ME to end my misery.

The reason we love these "Friday" flicks is because--for whatever reason--we love to see a huge, hockey-masked, fella hack his way through untalented cast- after-cast of scantily-clad teens. THERE WAS NONE OF THAT HERE!

The Jason that is wreaking the havoc isn't even the REAL Jason, it's his ghost in other people's bodies. Though it did star Erin Gray and Cpt. Fuller from 21 Jump Street, the lead was the weird guy from the Friday the 13th TV show (which, ironically enough, had nothing to do with the movies).

All of a sudden, Jason's got an extended family, and there's all kinds of confusing back-story. The only part I enjoyed was the hot FBI agent in the towel running through the woods. The scene harkened back to a simpler time when we could enjoy Jason the same way you enjoy a burger--good taste that's bad for you and no thinking involved.

"Feardotcom" has a novel hook, but little else makes it worth seeing. The production design seemed to be centered around the motifs of "rainy" and "dark." It tried its best to mimic the look and feel of David Fincher's "Se7en," but fell short. Here is why.

The point of the flick (yes, I am going to ruin the ending) is that a murdered woman's ghost haunts the website that broadcast her death. Now, she manipulates people to log onto the site--at which time they have 48hrs to "play" before they die. She wants them to find her murderer (played by Stephen Rea--the one pleasent surprise of this movie).

Don't watch this thinking you're going to understand why it's happening; no explantion is offered as to HOW the internet is killing people, or WHY the leading lady would swim through innercity drain water to pull out a body lodged in sewer pipes.

It was a waste of time. I knew it going in, but if I hadn't been to the theater with a first date that wanted to see it, I would've seen "Signs" again.