For a Z movie, Death Factory (2002) isn't all that badly filmed, if having in-focus videography is all you need.
It begins with some "still life" compositions or pillow-shots, of discarded furniture & jars lined up on badly made shelves in a shed or barn, giving the impression of something arty about to begin, which could not be further from the truth.
A horny couple -- who we already wish would die they suck so bad -- wander out of the woods & find "an old factory" though it looks like a barn nobody bothered to dress up as a factory of any kind. They break in. Since it's so filthy that any little scratch would probably cause death by tetanus, they decide to get busy & have sex. Kill them, somebody! Kill them now!
It takes too long to happen but at long last the psycho in blue make-up gets them, providing the viewer with a bit of rather stupidly staged grue. We don't really get to see enough of the psycho to have an idea who it is, but hey, spoiler schmoiler, it's a girl.
Cut to more characters new introduced, just as boring, just as discardable. It'll take them even longer to get killed.
A party by & for teenagers is arranged at the old chemical plant that looks like a barn. The kids show up to get drunk, stoned, & have sex. The message of the piece is sex is bad, if you have any, you die.
So the psycho is a wacked out goth chick with bad teeth & funny contact lenses, kind of zombie-like, mindlessly in need of biting people & drinking blood. She'd been an employee of the factory before it closed, when she was exposed to chemicals, went all mutanty, obtained some metal fingernail thingies with sharp points to slip over her fingers, & killed a bunch of workers. The plant afterward shut down.
Her name's Alexa. It was believed she died but her family secretly protects her. Her sister arranges the teen parties so Alexa can feed. Seemingly this has been going on for years without anyone noticing whole parties full of teenagers go missing at regular intervals.
Psycho babe's punk-goth get-up ain't bad, & Tiffany Shepis as Alexa throws her all into hissing & scowling & looking as scary & crazy as she possibly can. When she falls down at the end gazing dead-eyed into the camera, she's cooler'n ratshit. If anyone else had been worth a noodle to wipe my ass it might've been a fun film, but one over-the-top performance was insufficient to alone save this cliche-ridden turd from ridiculousness.
Slaughtered (2008 release, but apparently questing for distribution since 2005) has been marketed as a horror film with little warning it might actually be triple-x adult fare (how odd that such immature attitudes toward sex would be likened "adult").
So it's snuff porn pretending to be horror, boasting beneath-cheapoid lousy videography, minimalist sets, unconvincing gore, & enough all round talent to fill a particularly small thimble too tight for a pinky. The "actors" all seem a mite too skanky even for the disease-ridden sex trade.
It's the tale of a psychotic transvestite pornographer, Harold. He hires models who think they're going to star in goth porn, therefore they let him tie them up in fetish outfits before he actually does kill them.
The pornographer-transvestite certainly is creepy, but mainly because he seems really to believe he's not. His performance shouts, "I'm pushing thirty yet I'm doing this movie specifically to upset my parents, & I'm in a band." But shouldn't a "rebel" that faggy be killing boys instead of girls?
His transvestite outfit is probably the actor's street wear. The guy is credited only as "Khhryst" which is Christ mispelled. An "actor" that idotic would have to have an idiotic name to match, just in case you thought those weren't his real clothes. He's actually Chris Smith as if anyone cares.
Sex, torture, & blood is the upshot, with no story to speak of, all conducted to a dreadful heavey metal soundtrack. There's a bit of the supernatural tossed in but that's not as important as the fact that the ghosts are skanky babes.
After each kill he hires another babe & starts over. I guess that's the structure of porn, which is just the same thing over & over for the narrow market that might like that one specific thing.
That doesn't work so great for horror if no one's wacking off to it; it's so bad one soon realizes the English language isn't sufficient to convey something that is even worse than the most awful movies imaginable.
Perhaps out of pretence of the guys who made this not being mental cases who hate women, the end of the "story" has a heroine pretty much hollow out the psycho starting at his pecker. That part was funny.
If like me you've watched enough microbudget fiascos to not be startled by any of it, the film's main problem isn't its misogyny, which is nothing unexpected, but the fact that it is dull, dull, dull. It's like waiting for white fungus to grow on a dog doody.
copyright © by Paghat the Ratgirl