Parasitic-Worst Case of Crabs EVER
This one was done by none other than Tim Martin: the man behind the creature effects of such films as AvP (Aliens vs. Predator for those of you who don’t keep up with that kind of thing) and X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Of course, since ol’ Timmy has insane Hollywood backing and a network of people in the industry to work with, I had rather high hopes for this movie.
Alas, my hopes were loaded into a spud canon and launched gloriously into the side of Old Lady Myrtle McCreeper’s place with the grace of a bag of poo thrown into an exit sign on the interstate.
Parasitic opens with a shot of a meteor crashing to Earth while two rednecks are fishing. They get their catch, explore the crash site and find nothing. The fish they catch is taken to a local eatery, cleaned (more or less), and made into sushi for a customer who brings the sushi back to a nightclub and delivers it to Val, the voluptuous owner. Val is disgusted by the gross-looking green sushi, but wolfs it down anyways. Yes, let’s eat sushi that looks like the Elephant Man blew his nose on it!
No, she is not that bright.
After closing, the crew is cleaning up and complaining about wanting to leave. Val falls ill and runs to the restroom. She begins to vomit a black, viscous liquid and rips off her shirt. Soon she begins to have chest pains that are so bad she HAS to take off her bra.
Yes, she is the very one you wanted to see topless. Tim Martin made sure this happened…right before her neck bursts and a tentacle comes out and begins to squeak and squirm. Val is now a monster. A topless flesh-eating creature with E-cups and a taste for human flesh.
Back in the main room of the club, the rest of the characters are whining because they are ready to go home and Val has the key. Steph goes to look for Val, searching the dark corners of the nightclub. Val finds her first and infects her with the parasite.
In the next scene, the others are whining that they want to leave. They notice that two of their party are missing, probably off screwing. Sure enough, the scene changes to a sex scene that is WORSE THAN THE ONE IN DREAMANIAC. It’s one thing to screw up real sex.
HOW DO YOU SCREW UP FAKE SEX?!
The two lovebirds meet up with Val and Steph and are turned.
Back in the main room, the rest of the characters are whining about wanting to leave. What? I repeated myself? No, I didn’t. See, if you actually ignore my warnings and watch this pile of sheep pellets (while keeping in mind that I am removed from all liability in the event that you dig your own eyeballs out because this movie SUCKS) then you will find that the entire movie plays out like this: MONSTER!! VAL WITH A SALAMANDER BETWEEN HER BOOBS!!!
In fact, it’s not until about the last fifteen minutes of the movie that the other characters finally realize that they are vanishing one by one, and something is going on! YES. They spend ONE HOUR of a 77 minute movie whining about wanting to leave and IGNORANT about what is going on around them.
And ignorant in general because these characters are really f**kin’ stupid.
Case in point: Grace, the handsome black dude, and the token fat guy nobody likes are barricading the doors against their friends now turned zombie minions to Val. The shove couches, tables, chairs, and shelves in front of the door. Grace decides that a guitar is all they need to finish it off.
As the creatures break in and close in around Grace she grabs a stick knocks the salamander off Val’s chest (how she missed the girls is a complete mystery). Val and all of the zombies die. Grace stomps on the salamander until it shatters, and she and token black dude leave into the next room. A small parasite survives and takes over black dude.
Epilogue: it is now a monster holding Grace captive. The end.
VERDICT: FLUSH IT IN TOILET PAPER.
This movie is chock-full of T&A. I’ve never seen a movie beyond Sand Sharks with this much T&A. There are so many Twits and A**holes in this flick that I actually cheered when any of them got killed off. Once again I’ve discovered a movie where not one, not two, but ALL of the characters are so stupid they drool on camera. The cast of Jersey Shore are friggin’ Ph.D holders compared to these numb-skulls.
The effects are awesome, that I will admit fully and seriously. Tim Martin really went all out on the creature make-up and effects for his first film. It really would’ve helped if he had also gotten some actors to be in his movie. All of them spoke their lines as if reading them off of a teleprompter, and the screenplay played out as if it had been written by a horny eighth-grade little boy.
The sex scene killed me. I mean, really. It basically amounted to: “Oh baby-oh baby-oh baby,” OH PLEASE. As a follower of True Blood, I’ve seen my fair share of sex on the television screen.
This looked more like something out of a home-made Sex Education and AIDS Awareness Video.
Tim, go back to creature effects and leave this s**t to the pros. Obviously he had no help writing this catastrophe, and must have taken tips and advice under the supervision of Uwe Boll because this ended up being nothing more than an 77 minute long dump into the toilet in the top desk drawer of Hollywood’s office desk.
I would rather have a Brazilian Bikini Wax done with duct tape while rabid fire ants on crystal meth invaded my navel and angry circus midgets punched me in the face while singing Justin Bieber songs and shaving my armpits with an Epilady than watch this turd again.