CPL CHUD
April 23rd, 2008, 12:36 PM
WINTERBEAST
http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61ZPqkslS%2BL._SL500_AA240_.jpg
This is such a Z-grade monster romp that I simply don't know where to start, so I'll get right to the point. Put quite simply, this movie blew my mind straight out of my ass and into the dumpster, wherein a C.H.U.D. defecated all over it. This film had me questioning my very sanity, doing double takes at the screen every five minutes. This is a flick that is so scatter brained and random that you simply cannot predict what is going to happend next, no matter what kind of seasoned gorehound you think you might be. This is the quantum theory of cheesy direct to video horror flicks; a momentous pinnacle of pure cinematic trash. Drink deep and you'll walk away a hollow husk of a human being, scribbling nonsense with your own feces that only you and the film makers could possiblely decipher.
The plot loosely revolves around disappearing in the woods, a bizarre inn keeper, demons, Indians, magical wooden dildo charms.....gah.....fuck I don't know what it was about and I sat through it three times, once plastered just to see if my drunk mind could see what my sober one couldn't. I don't think the writer and director Chris Thies even knew what it was ultimately about. The dubbing is on and off, sometimes in the context of the same scene. Mustaches mysteriously change sizes, shapes and even colors. The camera angle shifts are so disorienting that it's hard keeping track of where people are at. Giant stop motion playdo monsters attack en force. There's zombies, autophagism, black magic, toaster raffles, and shrunken heads found scattered around the woods like Easter eggs. Just when you think everything is about to be explained, just when you are on the edge of your seat anticipating with morbid curiousity about how this will all tie together, somebody's face melts and the main characters shuffle about their daily business seemingly unaffected by this strange turn of events. This flick is so warped you can't even tell if the humor is intentional. Motives are nonexistent and towards the end the very fabric of reality seems to become unglued. And despite what the title may lead you to believe this film does not take place in the winter.
But still I loved every cheesy ass minute of it. That's right, I dig this flick like a garden full of dismembered heads with gold teeth. I'm not even sure I can explain it. It's so devoid of any type of logic, any thread of structured narrative, that it has an almost haunting quality about it, like if David Lynch decided to try to make a serious horror flick while huffing gas. It's a party movie, so gather fellow gore shrieking freaks, tape some 40oz. bottles to your hands, and enjoy the insanity.
YouTube - Winterbeast trailer
http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/61ZPqkslS%2BL._SL500_AA240_.jpg
This is such a Z-grade monster romp that I simply don't know where to start, so I'll get right to the point. Put quite simply, this movie blew my mind straight out of my ass and into the dumpster, wherein a C.H.U.D. defecated all over it. This film had me questioning my very sanity, doing double takes at the screen every five minutes. This is a flick that is so scatter brained and random that you simply cannot predict what is going to happend next, no matter what kind of seasoned gorehound you think you might be. This is the quantum theory of cheesy direct to video horror flicks; a momentous pinnacle of pure cinematic trash. Drink deep and you'll walk away a hollow husk of a human being, scribbling nonsense with your own feces that only you and the film makers could possiblely decipher.
The plot loosely revolves around disappearing in the woods, a bizarre inn keeper, demons, Indians, magical wooden dildo charms.....gah.....fuck I don't know what it was about and I sat through it three times, once plastered just to see if my drunk mind could see what my sober one couldn't. I don't think the writer and director Chris Thies even knew what it was ultimately about. The dubbing is on and off, sometimes in the context of the same scene. Mustaches mysteriously change sizes, shapes and even colors. The camera angle shifts are so disorienting that it's hard keeping track of where people are at. Giant stop motion playdo monsters attack en force. There's zombies, autophagism, black magic, toaster raffles, and shrunken heads found scattered around the woods like Easter eggs. Just when you think everything is about to be explained, just when you are on the edge of your seat anticipating with morbid curiousity about how this will all tie together, somebody's face melts and the main characters shuffle about their daily business seemingly unaffected by this strange turn of events. This flick is so warped you can't even tell if the humor is intentional. Motives are nonexistent and towards the end the very fabric of reality seems to become unglued. And despite what the title may lead you to believe this film does not take place in the winter.
But still I loved every cheesy ass minute of it. That's right, I dig this flick like a garden full of dismembered heads with gold teeth. I'm not even sure I can explain it. It's so devoid of any type of logic, any thread of structured narrative, that it has an almost haunting quality about it, like if David Lynch decided to try to make a serious horror flick while huffing gas. It's a party movie, so gather fellow gore shrieking freaks, tape some 40oz. bottles to your hands, and enjoy the insanity.
YouTube - Winterbeast trailer