Thursday, November 26, 2009

A Real Turkey: Pocahauntus

First off, thanks for spending some time with me on your holiday. Unless, of course, you are reading this for the first time on Friday or Saturday, in which case, screw you. I kid, I kid. Today's film is one I stumbled across on Netflix and thought 'I'm not going to find a worse holiday film to review on Thanksgiving than this.' Of course, had I noticed ThanksKilling, I may have ended up with that one. This time of year is all about sharing though, so why not cover more than one crappy movie on this day? This movie ties into one of the more controversial elements of this holiday: the Indians. Yeah, yeah- we killed all of them and stole their land. It's all very tragic, but it's not like someone will ever use it as a premise for a bad horror movie. Oh right, there is this one...Our film begins by introducing us to our oddly-large cast of characters. When a film can't write one good character and feels the need to give you 20, I'm worried. One of them is introduced in a slow-mo shot of her washing herself with a garden hose. The film juxtaposes that in a *wacky* manner by having a guy do the same thing. Ha ha...it's funny because its immensely-stupid. By the way, that man is played by Barry Ratcliffe, who also wrote the movie. Fun fact: he also gives an 'unbiased' review of the movie on its Netflix page. Anyhow, we have more characters to introduce. We have a porn star who wears a wig and berates her horrible gay stereotype of a stylist. His name is Mangina, although it is pronounced Man-geena. If you're not laughing yet, you never will. We also meet a blond woman who throws up a party and is *ironically* introduced as a socialite. There is a man as well, a stoned-out loser who has a shrill girlfriend. This pays off later...sort of. Lastly- at least for my purposes- we meet a gynecologist who is named Dr. Beth Anigav. No, really. This is the kind of movie that we are going to have to deal with. Anyhow, our giant cast is all invited to a weekend in the woods. I guess nobody has ever read '10 Little Indians,' huh?

So yeah, the middle part of this movie is all about these terrible characters interacting. My soul hurts, which may or may not be related. Stoner guy hits on the porn star girl, which goes nowhere. The two lesbians hit on each other, but don't really do anything. In fact, with this cast, you would expect copious nudity. You would be wrong, which makes the experience all the more painful. At least if there are boobs on screen, I can tune out the dialogue, but, no, I had to listen to every painful word! After a long period of nothing but awful writing, we get to see our villain: Pocahauntus. She is the spirit of the Indian girl who cannot rest since the slaughter of her people lingers over her. This synopsis is something that the movie takes over thirty minutes to actually get around to explaining. What could possibly be more important than actual character back-story? How about the lesbians making seven or eight jokes about 'eating out' in roughly two minutes? How about one of the male leads flashing his shiny, sparkle-covered speedo. Priceless...I mean, worthless. Tomato, tomato.

For the love of God, would someone get killed please! Either its me or you people! The movie is sort of vague about its kill scenes, which is never a good thing. One fat man is shown being stabbed, but shows up in the next scene. Huh? About three scenes later, he is stabbed in the stomach again and actually dies. Thank God, we did not go for a hat-trick! The 'socialite' is stabbed and left stuck to a tree. One of the men- who looks/dresses oddly like Bruce Campbell on Burn Notice is sort of ho-hum about the discovery. Another pair are killed in a car via some weird bit of Indian magic. I would explain it, but they don't, so screw it! Pocahauntus appears in front of another pair of people and sends a weird, magic symbol at them. What it does is anyone's guess. After over an hour of this crap, my brain has given up. It all ends with one woman being left alive and apparently framed for the killings. The real guilty party is the people on the other side of the cameras. The End.

Oh dear God, was this terrible. It was a bad comedy, a boring film and a non-gory horror film. We get one shot of gore, mind you, but I've seen worse things on CSI: Miami! The advantage of doing Independent Horror is that you don't have to play by the rules, but they don't even bother. The film wants you to laugh at annoying and ugly people. Maybe the idea is that we want them to die. In that regard, the movie is a major success! The premise could have worked with any one of the following things: real actors, an actual screenwriter and any direction. As someone who has tried and failed to make a movie, I know it is not an easy process. That said, I would rather be a failed director than the director of Pocahauntus!

Next up, a film that my friends are *adamant* about me doing. This live-action adaptation of an anime can't be as bad as everyone thinks, can it? Stay tuned...

2 comments:

  1. I cant believe you even found this one, I would think that any faithful Netflix employee would have destroyed it upon receipt. As with so many films before, I applaud your integrity for sitting this one through man. You have to appreciate the ridiculous and truly offensive makeup work for Pocahauntus as well, almost as bad as SCALPS

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  2. Yeah, I sort of regret this choice.

    On the plus side, 'ThanksKilling' did not sound much better.

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