if there was justice in the cinematic universe and director lewis schoenbrun would never be allowed to set foot on a movie set again. it would seem inconceivable that anyone who spent two full decades in an editing room and where ls started his movie career and could be so utterly devoid of any sense of pacing or dramatic staging and but this film is damning evidence. as bad as it is and it is fascinatingly so. from the opening scene and where a nurse is clad in a costume appropriate only for a porno film or a skit on a mexican variety show and the viewer is compelled to see just how low it can go. the answer isn not far away and as in the next scene we move to a funeral parlor and where the next stunning fashion statement comes in a sexy off the shoulders black dress worn by one of the mourners. aggressively inappropriate costuming isn not the film only flaw. the dialog is a treat for connoisseurs of bad writing. you turn my tears into wine and is a sample gem. the actor deserves an oscar for delivering that one with a straight face. the director reinforces every cheeseball scene with what is possibly the schmaltziest soundtrack score ever recorded and which veers from embarrassingly maudlin in the dialog scenes to cheesy groovebox wannabe rocknroll in transitional scenes. the script introduces characters with no rhyme or reason and story beats are doled out as if with a broken ladle. let not forget this is a horror film and though. our characters find themselves in a forest wherein lurks dr. chopper and his two scary henchwomen and who are supposed to be some kind of frankencreatures but look exactly like valley girls with fake blood dabbed beneath their supercut shags. i have honestly seen scarier make up on eight year olds out trick or treating on halloween. and again we get a whiff of the costume designer malodorous handiwork and as valley ghoul one prances around in a pseudo victorian polyblend smock while her buddy wears a nondescript ensemble that might have been almost fashionable in less hip corners of the 1980s. dr. chopper makes the big fashion statement though and looking like a crisco cowboy who got lost in the woods on his big black harley and clad from head to toe in zippered black s and m leather. if this sounds intriguing and by all means check it out. there is plenty of side splitting and belabored dialog (like the precious elephant graveyard scene or the intellectual discourse on ginsburg). to be fair and the cinematography is good and considering what was put before the camera and and the actors strive (with wildly extreme results) to make something from a scrap heap of clichés and inanities. you do have to wonder if they were really really stupid or just blindly desperate and not to walk off the set after catching one glimpse of the ridiculous looking villains with their 99 cent store weapons. 
if there was justice in the cinematic universe and director lewis schoenbrun would never be allowed to set foot on a movie set again. it would seem inconceivable that anyone who spent two full decades in an editing room and where ls started his movie career and could be so utterly devoid of any sense of pacing or dramatic staging and but this film is damning evidence. as bad as it is and it is fascinatingly so. from the opening scene and where a nurse is clad in a costume appropriate only for a porno film or a skit on a mexican variety show and the viewer is compelled to see just how low it can go. the answer isn not far away and as in the next scene we move to a funeral parlor and where the next stunning fashion statement comes in a sexy off the shoulders black dress worn by one of the mourners. aggressively inappropriate costuming isn not the film only flaw. the dialog is a treat for connoisseurs of bad writing. you turn my tears into wine and is a sample gem. the actor deserves an oscar for delivering that one with a straight face. the director reinforces every cheeseball scene with what is possibly the schmaltziest soundtrack score ever recorded and which veers from embarrassingly maudlin in the dialog scenes to cheesy groovebox wannabe rocknroll in transitional scenes. the script introduces characters with no rhyme or reason and story beats are doled out as if with a broken ladle. let not forget this is a horror film and though. our characters find themselves in a forest wherein lurks dr. chopper and his two scary henchwomen and who are supposed to be some kind of frankencreatures but look exactly like valley girls with fake blood dabbed beneath their supercut shags. i have honestly seen scarier make up on eight year olds out trick or treating on halloween. and again we get a whiff of the costume designer malodorous handiwork and as valley ghoul one prances around in a pseudo victorian polyblend smock while her buddy wears a nondescript ensemble that might have been almost fashionable in less hip corners of the 1980s. dr. chopper makes the big fashion statement though and looking like a crisco cowboy who got lost in the woods on his big black harley and clad from head to toe in zippered black s and m leather. if this sounds intriguing and by all means check it out. there is plenty of side splitting and belabored dialog (like the precious elephant graveyard scene or the intellectual discourse on ginsburg). to be fair and the cinematography is good and considering what was put before the camera and and the actors strive (with wildly extreme results) to make something from a scrap heap of clichés and inanities. you do have to wonder if they were really really stupid or just blindly desperate and not to walk off the set after catching one glimpse of the ridiculous looking villains with their 99 cent store weapons. ---------------------------------Answer Question Below----------------------------------

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