Totally bad actors playing whiggers & valley girls drive up to the fast food clown to order burgers. The clown-head insults them so one of the guys goes inside to harass the worker, not noticing the place is actually closed with the lights out.
Son it's the Death of Whiggers at the hands of the hands of a goth version of a fast-food clown, in Drive Thru (2007). Rather decent, colorful cinematography for a gore film, it's too bad the visually professional look of the film is so undermined by amateur actors.
The design for the clown costumed psycho is edgy & cool, with intercom mouth & big spiked shoes.
Icky twenty-somethings play the worthy-of-death teens which are quite properly picked off one by one by Hella Burgers' advertising mascot Horny the Clown.
First batch of teens dispatched, we're soon subjected to four more teens who have a supernatural experience on an ouji board, apparently binding them to the kilelr clown. Don't ask it to make sense.
Lenny (Sean Whalen) the creepy janitor is the first individual well played, an authentic character-actor amidst an array of shallow junior college acting class drop-outs. With crap acting & crap script, & only so-so gore sequences, the initial coolness of the clown costume wears thin.
Some scenes take place in a carnival with a tunnel of horrors' "funhouse" ride in which Horny the Clown takes a couple lives. Fisher & Mackenzie (Nicholas D'Agosto & Leighton Meester) are the characters we assume (by the obviousness of the script) will make it to film's end. Everyone else is instantly disposable.
Clues turn up that there's some connection between all the victims. It's pretty much cribbed from Freddy Krueger's backstory. The kids of a specific group of parents being the targets. Archie Benjamin (Van De La Plante), son of Hella Burger's founder (John Gilbert), was a weird kid, & became the original Horny the Clown. He's back from the dead, getting revenge. That's the whole mystery.
The filmmakers seem to have said, "Let's intentionally make it stupid, since we really don't have any choice." The "big" birthday scene at the fast food joint isn't all that good a climax, so any hope for a pay-off at the end, well, don't be holding your breath. Bad as it is, if you're a slasher fan in general, this one's a half-peg above the low average of the genre.
The first full hour of Hellbreeder (2003) consists of a woman's dreams, hallucinations, & possibly some real-world encounters, a jumble of nonsense that drags on & on with no real story.
Several scenes are shown more than once with slight variations, as if showing a bad scene three times would make it less bad. There are excruciatingly long sequences of smoking cigarettes or walking or sitting or staring.
Now & then the story cuts to the detectives investigating the murders, & they talk without doing anything, then we get to watch the protagonist smoke another cigarette or go somewhere else & sit down or have another dull hallucination or dream about going somewhere to sit down & listen to the voices in her head.
Within this moronic mishmash we are kind of informed there is a serial killer of children on the loose. According to the surreal dream-state of the female protagonist which we can't trust, the killer is either a weird clown, or a homeless nutjob she encountered on the night her own son was murdered. There's someone she plans to murder in revenge but then decides to screw him instead, if he even existed.
Then at about exactly the one hour mark, without prelude or foundation, it is announced from left field that the killer is a supernatural vampire clown known as Hellbreed -- a name that means absolutely nothing & we never hear it said a second time -- & we realize that in its own awkward ignorant way, this film is a rip-off of Stephen King's It.
The last half hour gets more confused as it is revealed our dreaming hallucinatory protagonist is an escapee from a mental asylum, the same asylum where the vampire killer clown hides out.
The police take our nutty progagonist back to the madhouse where she watches them get murdered by the glow-in-the-dark vampire clown.
This half hour though extremely foolish at least has some exploitation value & is better than the deadly dull first hour of crappy dreamin' & smokin'. When all is finished, the rest of the madhouse loonies gather around our protagonist & sing a nice song. Our last image is of the insane heroine laughing maniacally; I think she was laughing at us viewers for the evil trick of making us watch such a turd.
Throughout this glacial hour & a half of nonsense we are forced to listen to an aggressively obnoxious soundtrack that monotonously rips off the soundtrack to Halloween.
There is a ten minute film in this mess somewhere, an unlikeable short film but better than this unbearable hour & a half. There's enough pomposity in the thing that it seems probable the writer-directors mistook their failure for some kind of art-horror project, but it is eighty-percent padding of the worst kind, while the remaining twenty percent is plain assinine.
The acting wasn't as bad as the direction & writing. Lyndie Uphill as the screw-loose heroine hovers around adequate in her performance, & might've been great fun if the script had been half good.
Dominique Pinon miscast as the English detective with the French accent is not up to his usual level of fine character performance, but he's got presence & if the film had made any sense he'd've been great to see in it.
Harold Gasnier as the evil clown is successfully disgusting & would've been a great monster-clown if he'd had any actual context or story in which to do the evil.
The cinematography here & there attempted some uneven experimentalism, but it all had a cheap look; like Lyndie Uphill's performance, the photography might've seemed pretty good for Z-horror, if only it had been telling anything resembling a coherent story.
The talent & semi-talent knocking around in this turkey is all wasted on direction & scriptwriting that doesn't even rise to the level of abject amateurism. Reportedly there was an earlier cut of the film that was even worse, with a voice over explaining what's going on a la the Golden Turkey Award classic-of-bad The Creeping Terror (1964). The final cut has so little dialog it approaches being a silent movie.
copyright © by Paghat the Ratgirl