DVD Review: Butchered
Butchered (2009)
Studio: Eleven Bravo Productions, LLC
Release Date: February 9, 2010
Directed By: Charles Stewart Jr.
Cast: Tim Woodward Jr., Melissa Lukon & D.J. Naylor.
Review By: Annie Riordan
Oh goody. Another low budget slasher film. My favorite. There are no words in the English language to describe just how thrilled I am to be sitting through yet another amazingly original and genre shattering instant classic, one which stimulates the intellect and touches the soul. Oh muse of cinematic brilliance, once again you have seen fit to bless us mere mortals with your blinding radiance and sublime inspiration. We praise thee, and humbly thank thee for bestowing upon us, in thy infinite wisdom and unending compassion, such heavenly treasures of which we are surely not worthy, hallelujah and amen.
Okay, I think the sarcasm arsenal is empty for now.
Horny vacuous teens on summer vacation + one last hurrah before heading off to college + remote desert island party with beer and weed + lots of gratuitous titty shots + one escaped serial killer = oh GOD why didn’t Prop 19 pass, because the only thing that could possibly make this bearable is a big-ass bong load of some serious chronic and a shitload of Chips Ahoy.
I think one of the characters is named Dylan. He’s the good one with all the lofty ambitions and shit. Then there’s the loudmouthed jerk, the slut in the pink bikini, the other slut in the black bikini, the black guy and his black girlfriend and the final girl who I think might be Dylan’s girlfriend. We aren’t introduced to any of them until a lengthy 8 minute pre-credit sequence has elapsed, during which we watch some nameless chick walk around, then drive home, then walk around some more. A four minute long credit sequence follows, most of which is spent staring at the nameless girls blood encrusted boobies as she dangles from a meat hook. Then the actual movie begins and I find myself nostalgic for the pre-credit sequence.
Beer bongs, bad parties, country music montages of sunwashed beach frolickings, all shot with what appears to be a budget of $17.60. Before taxes. And me, fresh out of hydrocodone.
If it were possible to stab a movie in the face, I would have done so with this one. Failing that, I would like to take this opportunity to suggest to said movie that it forthwith and without further ado violently insert itself up its own rectum, perform physically impossible and sexually degrading acts upon itself and shed thy mortal coil immediately thereafter. Thank you.
