It’s the end of the world as we know it, and every single surviving human has broken up in to fractions, mini-societies, and tribes that delight in murder of others, and survival of the fittest. “The Domestics” is “The Purge,” meets “Red Dawn,” meets “Mad Max,” meets “The Warriors,” with a dash of “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” for good measure. Let’s face it, at the end of the day its pure blissful, loony post apocalyptic movie porn and hot damn if I didn’t love every single minute of it from beginning to end.
The most unknown heavy metal band, Impaled Rektum, is trying to make it to the best metal fest all the way in Norway. The band members may be inept in a lot of ways, but their hearts and souls are guiding them to the darkest, bestest place ever.
Written by Josh Collins and Steven G. Michael with Collins directing, Fags in the Fast Lane is a low-brow, tongue-in-cheek comedy that goes for a style and universe that would make John Waters proud. The humor and the story are in your face, over the top with just about everything and the glittery kitchen sink thrown at the viewer. The story is one that includes something to shock or offend everyone. The trashploitation sub-genre is well represented here and viewers who won’t have been stopped by the film’s title should find something to have fun with here.
I remember a time where it was nearly impossible to get a film like “Fags” made, but now we’re in a glorious time where the LGBT community is allowed to be fun and unleash their creative visions. “Fags in the Fast Lane” is Andy Warhol, John Waters, Russ Meyers, and a dash of Frank Henenlotter thrown in to a blender and given some pretty fun tweaks here and there allowing Josh Collins and writer Steven G. Michael to go as far out there as he wants. Thankfully he never loses track of the narrative or the film’s genuinely weird sense of humor once. “Fags” is a very LGBT aimed action comedy but it also has an admirable sense of self-awareness always looking for any reason to poke fun at itself.
It’s ironic, and perhaps not incidental, that Vestron would release the entire movie series for “Wishmaster” and “Warlock.” They’re two weak attempts at movie maniacs in a pretty stale decade for horror, and deep down while they have potential to be menacing and terrifying horror villains, they’re poorly realized, and potentially trail off in to absolute nothingness. “Warlock” is not as bad a slope as “Wishmaster,” as it managed to gain some momentum in the nineties, even sporting a Sega Genesis video game in 1995 which involved platforming, and fighting off zombies and demonic beasts with magic spells. 1989’s “Warlock” is a tonally confused movie that wants sorely to be a horror film, but ends up sliding in to dark fantasy territory by the time it draws to a close.
This is the story of Leatherface. Again. No, “The Beginning” was not his origin, “Leatherface” is. I’m not sure what “The Beginning” was supposed to be. “Leatherface” is the official prequel to the iconic movie maniac, they promise. And once again, like “The Beginning,” 2017’s “Leatherface” is really just a tired, nasty, unpleasant road film following a group of psychopaths. Leatherface’s actual origin is reserved for the final ten minutes where he just reverts to Leatherface mode because—um—it’s familiar! Familiar is good, right? Once again, no one seems to be interested in actually dissecting the madness of Leatherface, or why and how his persona of wearing human skin and carrying a chainsaw relates to him. In the original Tobe Hooper masterpiece,
A group of students sharing a car to various destinations has a tire blow-out that leaves them stranded. Soon they discover that this was not an accident and they are now in grave danger.
Written by Joey O’Bryan and Ryûhei Kitamura with the latter also directing, Downrange is a tense, one location thriller that grabs the viewer early on and doesn’t let go until the end credits roll. For fans of Kitamura, this is a return to sources, to his earlier style of having a story set in one location and making it a tense experience for all involved. This, here, is very successful and works like a charm in the desolate location on a road in the middle of nowhere. This setting works really well here and the collection of characters and how they came to be together adds to the tension and mystery. The film uses the fact that there are many unknowns to work in its favor. The situation is tense enough on its own but the way the characters interact and are portrayed make it work even better.
“The Hitman’s Bodyguard” is the type of middling, mediocre nonsense that you’re likely going to find playing on basic cable in three years. It’s such an unremarkable, silly action comedy going through the motions and capitalizing on two men and what they’re famous for. Stars Samuel L. Jackson and Ryan Reynolds never break out of their comfort zones, and you can almost sense director Patrick Hughes asked both men to just be who everyone knows them for, and really nothing else. “The Hitman’s Bodyguard” is everything you think a movie starring Jackson and Reynolds will be like. Nothing ever really skirts the edges or thinks outside the box, and the violence seems just tacked on to what was probably a bland PG-13 action comedy in development.