Fail-Flix

Bad Movies Beware!

Train-More like Train Wreck

What looked like a promising roller coaster of thrills and chills turned out to be a case of the squirts on the monorail. Thora Birch heads up a no-name cast in this film, which one would think would help. But, the boring story, bad acting and pointless plot twists kill what could have been a cool flick. Then again, how many other movies have the whole “Euro-Crazies steal people and hack them up for parts” thing? Let me answer that one for you: A LOT!!! Thora plays Alex, a female college wrestler who goes to Europe with her team and her boyfriend’s team for a competition. When she, her friend Claire, Todd(Alex’s boyfriend), Sheldon(read Idiot Best Friend) and the assistant coach Willy(read Stone Face. Must be related to Ron Pearlman) stay out too late at a party and miss their train, they are invited with their coach to take a small train to their next match. As it turns out, surprise-surprise, the train is a body-transport for an insane doctor who kidnaps American tourists and harvests their organs and parts for the underground black market. I’m all about slasher flicks, don’t get me wrong. But Halloween, Friday the 13th and Texas Chainsaw Massacre weren’t BORING! “Yeah, he got killed. No, wait. He’s still breathing. They cut off his penis. Yawn. Next?” The dialogue was simple and not much more than “What was that?” and “Where the hell are we?” followed by one or two “What the hell is going on here?!” After about thirty minutes, the script consists of mostly grunting, screaming, breathing and crying. And more grunting. I was waiting for something interesting to happen. ANYTHING. What if Thora went to the bathroom and the train derailed, her bathroom floor coming apart and leaving a trail of toilet water and used feminine hygiene products strewn all over Prago-wherever-the-hell? That would have been more entertaining than this movie. It was like watching a documentary on naval fungus.
VERDICT: Take the bus. This movie defines bad slasher flicks. I don’t know why modern-say directors think this crap is scary, but the only time I cared whether one of these cardboard cutout characters bought it was when Claire was fed to wild dogs because she was cute. I mean, yeah, they cut of her leg. But that’s what prosthetics or wooden peg-legs are for. Bottom line, I’m going to pretend that this movie never happened. I would rather face-plant into a pile of rancid kitty litter infested with mutoid saber-toothed roly-poly bugs than watch this flick again. Yeah, Thora. No A1 for you.

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This entry was posted on December 20, 2011 by in Uncategorized.
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