Fail-Flix

Bad Movies Beware!

Bikini Girls on Ice-Stupidity by the Numbers

I stumbled upon this turd biscuit while perusing my Netflix queue, and had to see why one customer said it was so bad that he actually cancelled his account and went to Blockbuster. It was five minutes in and I fully understood this poor soul’s reasoning. A gas station in the middle of nowhere is the set, abandoned and run down. A group of bikini-clad college girls on their way to a car wash decide to set up there and end up fodder for the resident serial killer. Note: it is a slasher flick, but with no real gore. How the hell does this work?! I can tell you. It doesn’t. Every element of a pointless kill-fest is there. You have the group leader doubling as the resident bitch, the girl-on-girl kissing, the group slut, one gratuitous breast shot during the obligatory sex scene, the innocent lead and her best friend, the hot guy who ends up dying, and the serial killer. You know, we have killers with iconic names. Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, and Michael Meyers to name a few. What’s the name of the guy we get? Moe. No, really. Friggin’ Moe. And all he does is whine and breath heavy like a 12-year-old-boy playing monkey-spank with his hands wrapped in duct tape. Plus, the whole thing takes place at a gas station. Where the hell is he gonna hide?! It’s not like there is a lot of space, here. There is one scene where the girls have been locked inside a shed by Moe. But the latch is on the inside. Period. They can’t get the door open, and they can’t look down and see that the door is still latched. Granted, these girls are not ugly, but the characters aren’t smart, either. I’ve seen better plotl-ines and acting in eighties throw-back internet porn. The camera work was shoddy, looking like the filmographer was shooting with an HD Sony Handi-Cam. When the shot was supposed to follow the girls it shook like Blair Witch but if Heather Donahue had Parkinson’s.
VERDICT: On a scale of one to ten, I give this movie the finger. While it’s not as bad as Troll 2, it’s up there with Battlefield Earth or Mama Mia. The acting is horrendous, with the kiss between the heroic leads is as awkward as a shut-in being walked in on by his parents while he is discovering his real identity in his sisters clothes. The ending is predictable and quick, but not quick enough as the movie is a grueling 81 minutes long when it could have been covered in thirty minutes or during one of those infomercials that come on at 3am. I would rather have a colon blockage removed with a wood-boring drill in low gear than watch this movie again.

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This entry was posted on October 15, 2011 by in Uncategorized.
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