Quickie 36 – Terrifier (2018)

or “Mime Crimes”

Having never seen All Hallows Eve, I had zero prior exposure to Art the Clown before Terrifier. For those not in the know: Art has taken the horror community by storm since the release of this movie, which is his first solo feature. Not nearly as terrifying as the moniker would suggest, I think it would’ve better been served going by the original full-length title of the “Canterbury Tales” story it’s based on: “Terrible Crap That Should Be Burned In a Fire”.

“You have to come with me now. There’s a dead woman in your basement!” – Cat Lady

The synopsis for this flick is probably one of the simplest that even an over-explainer like me can shit out in a single paragraph: the titular terrifier Art is a guy dressed up as a monochrome merrymaker (with a critical case of gingivitis) who carries a garbage bag of stabby and bludgeony weapons around with him and kills a cast of fodder that’s just as 1-dimensional as the mute jester marauding them. Yep, I said “mute”. Your slasher movie main event is a killer clown who doesn’t fucking talk. Face? Meet palm. You two will have plenty of time to get to know each other while we wait this thing out till the end credits.

Goth Pagliacci’s aforementioned garbage bag must be the Heftiest Hefty that Hefty has ever Hefted, because despite being filled with sharp instruments, you’d think the damn thing were filled with some much lighter, much less “clanky”, much duller material. In fact, you could show me that it was actually just packed with shredded paper and the most reaction you’d get from me was a shrug. Not even a full on Toru Yano shrug, but a solitary shoulder tremor that someone with Parkinsons might get after a sneeze.

Making matters worse? Nobody got the memo that no one’s given a shit about torture porn since 2010, so we get a particular scene of misogynistic mutilation that neither shocks nor “pushes boundaries”, but instead overcomes the collective senses with a heavy fog of Try-Hard flavored vape pen discharge. Unfortunately, I’ve seen plenty of people online voicing their love for this flick like it’s the next coming of Freddy Krueger, so don’t be surprised to see half-a-dozen sequels of more basic bullshit. Oh well, as I’ve been told over my Suspiria review, there’s no accounting for taste. *shrug*

Moral of the Story: Just because your entire business revolves around horror movies doesn’t mean you know dick 1 about how to MAKE one. For shame, Dread Central.

Final Judgment:

1 Turd Costume out-of-Five

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All materials found within this review are the intellectual properties and opinions of the original writer. The Tomb of Anubis claims no responsibility for the views expressed in this review, but we do lay a copyright claim on it beeyotch, so don’t steal from this shit or we’ll have to go all Farmer Vincent on your silly asses. © October 1st 2013 and beyond, not to be reproduced in any way without the express written consent of the reviewer and The Tomb of Anubis, or pain of a physical and legal nature will follow. Touch not lest ye be touched.

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