True Bloodthirst (2012)

I know, I know…. picking a stinker from the SyFy Originals lineup is as easy as bobbing for buttfruit in a porta potty next to a Taco Bell. Overwhelmed with choices, I went with my butt and chose True Bloodthirst – which is nothing like True Blood, the successful HBO series chronicling the coexistence of humans and vampires. Nope, not even close, because in True BloodTHIRST the coexisting humans and vampires have to fight off humongous vampire-bat hybrid monster things. BIG difference, people.*

*NOTE: I’m too poor to have HBO, so I’ve never actually watched the series True Blood. There might be giant mutant vampire bats, I really have no idea. Send all hate mail on this issue (or any issues you have with my shit, really) to Biscuits, he gets off on that kind of thing.

Anyway, this Surefire Suckfest (which, in my opinion, would’ve made a much better title–hence the capitalization) takes place in Bucharest, because moving roughly a hundred miles southeast of Transylvania makes the setting seem so much less cliché.

We open with a blood deal in a dark alley, which loses a bit of its ghetto flair when the buying vampire slurps from a blood bag like it’s a deliciously refreshing Capri Sun. Though the true comic relief swoops in a minute later in the form of the aforementioned avian atrocity– which looks oddly like a ‘roided out Freddy Krueger with bat wings– and rips the limbs off everyone in sight.

These winged abominations are the biggest problem facing the U.N. Department of Vampyre Relations, as they are equal opportunity dismemberers; murdering vampires and humans alike. So, like any good government organization would do, they release renowned vampire hunters from prison so they can team up with a vampire prince and his posse–because there’s certainly not going to be any animosity there–to combat the genetically mutated monsters. (Apparently Buffy and her crew retired sometime after puberty.)

We later learn that the ravenous beasts were regular vampires that ingested some tainted synthetic blood, and their condition is compared to a human STD. Take note, vampires: if you don’t practice safe sucking you could turn into a giant, airborne crotch cricket.

Other than some awkward fight scenes that look like their own deformity (The Matrix crossbred with the Special Olympics), that’s pretty much all there is to the “plot” of this shitfest. But here are some fascinating facts about our pale, blood-guzzling neighbors:

-The mercury gas inside neon lights has the same effect on vampires as holy water, yet they still deck out their exclusive-to-the-undead clubs with them…. even though they can see perfectly in the dark.

-Similar to the above, the diabolical bats hide in well-lit tunnels during the daytime.

-Vampires are relegated to District 5. Apparently District 9 was already taken.

-If vampires wear hoodies, they can roam around freely in the daylight. But if they rush outside and forget to pull their hood up, it’s game over. However, one can safely remove sunglasses to mourn the spontaneous combustion of a fallen friend.

-The time required for a former human to assimilate to vampire life is approximately 15 seconds.

The highlight of this cast of forgettable characters was definitely Nikolai (Ben Lambert), the metrosexual vampire. His very existence, and witty repartee, irks the living shit out of vampire hunter Johnny (Andrew Lee Potts) and woos Johnny’s sister, Celeste (Heida Reed).  Somewhere in between kicking bat ass and and looking fabulous, Nikolai still manages to articulate the best line of the movie: “I’m going to turn your sister, and she’s gonna like it.” And that, my friends, makes True Bloodthirst above all else a touching love story.

 


Hood of Horror (2006)

video cover

Somewhere between this…

and this….

this shit happened:

Hood of Horror was the Doggfather’s version of Tales from the Crypt; minus the successful comic book origin, cult following, and general likability.

After an animated intro that any logical person would sell their soul to the dark man to make stop, we finally meet Snoop – err, the Hound of Hell – who’s accompanied by a couple of sabertoothed crackwhores. For some reason I’m still unsure of they spend a minute talking to Tayshaun Prince, the star small forward from the Detroit Pistons, who exhibits the fine acting chops we’ve come to expect from the NBA.

Our canine crypt keeper explains (through a tight rhyme, fo’shizzle) that the three supposedly frightening stories to follow illustrate the fates of those who chose to be assholes and how they got “dealt with” by the devil. ‘Cause you know, the devil hates dickheads. In fact I’m pretty sure his shit list goes: 1) God; 2) Air conditioning; 3) Dickheads.

"Mean people suck." - Mephistopheles Mutt

First up in the Turd Trilogy is Crossed Out, where we’re introduced to Posie (Daniella Alonso)—renowned graffiti artist and indisputable champion of cheesy one-liners. (E.g. “He unloaded on his own load?” after one of her enemies shoots his own dick off.)

My personal favorite part of this Tales-from-the-Hood-meets-Fresh-Prince-of-Bel-Air butt nugget occurs when a dude falls onto his own forty, which then easily penetrates his skull and emerges unscathed (aside from a little brain matter) from the back of his head. Apparently NASA has been going about this shit all wrong; they should be building space shuttles out of old Colt 45 bottles.

Posie’s coagulated blood spray paint eventually runs out and she’s made to pay for her greed, as well as her nonstop attempts at corny catchphrases. (That shit’s my job–back off bitch.)  As her reanimated victims bumble toward her, she manages one last one, and it is a doozy: “Night of the living… shitbags!”

She had to roll her own eyes at that line.

The second fecal fable, The Scumlord, is even worse than its precursor. Here we meet the sole heir to the Kingdom of Redneckville, who murdered his father to get a jump start on squandering his inheritance. Unfortunately, per daddy’s will he has to move into and become the caretaker for an inner city home inhabited by Vietnam Veterans for one long, agonizing year before he sees any cash.  Tex Jr. (Anson Mount) immediately begins abusing the vets by cutting their food budget and turning their bedrooms into a suite for his bimbo girlfriend Tiffany (Brande Roderick), and her dog, Pootie, who has an insatiable appetite for caviar.

Like most rich rednecks living in the ghetto, Tex Jr. struts around in rebel flag boxers and bangs his girlfriend to the sensual sound of Cotton Eye Joe.

And he has a purty mouth.

There’s a tie for best quote of the segment between Jr. (“Son, I will skull fuck you.”) and Tiffany (“Do me Elvis style!”) but Snoop Dogg steals the show when he shows how gansta he really is by busting a cap in the tiny dog’s ass. It’s a little known fact that chihuahua’s explode when hit with bullets. Dogg on dog violence is senseless brutality… and insanely fucking funny.

The final installment in this riveting collection, Rapsody Askew, is certainly the most entertaining of the three. It’s the same old story—starving hip hop artist that enjoys pissing on underage girls prays to God to help his career, meets his musical soul mate outside of the church two minutes later and forms an alliance without hearing a single beat of the guy’s work, then has said dude murdered to further his own fame. If you’ve seen it once…. well then that’s probably all you’ll want to see of it really.

Jason Alexander even has a cameo in this segment as a British record mogul, looking like a stoned George Costanza and sounding like a slightly retarded Braveheart.

Sod (Pooch Hall) achieves the fame and fortune he always wanted—but fails to become the better person he promised God he’d be in return. (Apparently the devil also gets pissed if you lie to God.) Sod’s past soon comes back to haunt him, in the form of his resurrected, jaded partner Quon (Arie Spears).

Zombie Arie Spears almost makes it worth sitting through this entire shitshow. Even Snoop and his magical slit-his-own-throat-and-then-reseal-it-for-no-reason coke nail is no match for the antics of the undead comedian.

And it’s Spears’ Quon that takes the Platinum Poopy Prize for the corniest line of the entire movie: “If you’re lucky, you’ll go platinum… on Death Row.”

Gotta hand it to Snoop Dogg; he may have lost street cred for thugability more than a decade ago– but he’s still got mad self-pimpin’ skillz.

GRADE: What’s worse than an F? How ‘bout a G, yo.

 

 



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