Quickie 46 – WNUF Halloween Special (2013)

or “Is it Dead or Memorex?”

Tonight’s cha-cha of the damned is an interesting little pelvic thrust that flew well below my radar until my exposure to the radioactive depraved of The Joe Bob Briggs Drive-In Mutant Collective Facebook group. One quick YouTube search later and the magic of modern video streaming (huh huh, “streaming”) technology deposited the WNUF News Team face down into my lap faster than I could say, “Watch the teeth!”.

An exceedingly interesting concept flick, WNUF is the product of too many people to list, led by the main feature’s writer-director Chris LaMartina. Made on a reported budget of just $1500, this homage to the local news and public access television subcultures of the ’80s was fittingly shot entirely on tape and copied over several times via VCR to artificially gift it with that authentic “store brand blank VHS cassette recorded on SLP mode” shitting-in-your-eyes visual quality. As someone with several moving boxes packed with tapes of all different brands full of as many second-hand recordings of the Video Circus, Video King, and Victor Video horror sections as I could pack into 6-8 hours, it’s an artful recreation of my high school years.

I’d be wiping a tear from my eye if I still had the ducts for it.

“Don’t check your dial, folks. You didn’t tune in to Transylvania public access!” – Gavin Gordon

Our summary goes a little something like this – it’s Halloween night in the year of our dog nineteen -hundred and eighty-seven, and small town affiliate WNUF is airing a special holiday appropriate investigation into a local source of urban myth and townie terror. Dubbed “the Webber House” (which may or may not be the birthplace of the Webber Grill), the modest two story abode was once the site of a grisly double-murder! Mr. and Mrs. Webber were slaughtered by their son, Donald, who later claimed that he was merely the pawn of a demonic entity he had summoned via an off-brand Ouija board.

Ah-ha! I always knew that the store brand spook telegraphs were just as good as those overpriced name brand boards! The only unholy forces at work here are the Parker Brothers’ marketing department.

To spice things up for ratings, WNUF man-on-the-street reporter Frank Stewart enlisted a Catholic exorcist and experts of the occult (and one-time runners up on “The Newlywed Game”) Louis and Carol Berger, who are joined by their cat/child/familiar Shadow. Despite the frequent ad breaks for hauntingly realistic fake commercials created for the movie, I found myself genuinely curious where this chicanery was going to lead Stewart and his crew! Fearing a red herring harder than someone with serious seafood allergies, I was hoping in the space where my heart should be that something effectively disturbing in the finale would really offset the otherwise lighthearted tone of the production.

While things didn’t turn out EXACTLY as I had hoped (and Frank-ly, the repetition of some commercials gets just as annoying as in real life), I’d give fair marks on the after-movie service survey. Yes, I know we shouldn’t be responsible for doing the company’s employee evaluations for them, but it really helps out the underlings when you tell their masters that your lunch time experience with waiter #478-013 was satisfactory enough to recommend Applebee’s to your friends and family. And that’s exactly what I’m doing with WNUF Halloween Special here – it’s a nice change-of-pace from your typical horror fare that will really speak to the thirty-somethings and older in the room if nothing else. Enjoy!

Moral of the Story: Iron Maiden rules, but White Lion sucks. Think about it.

Final Judgment:

Three-and-a-Half Technical Difficulties out-of-Five

———————————————————
———————————————————

———————————————————
———————————————————

Enjoy the review? Hate the review? Have a movie you’d like to see judged in The Tomb? Fill out the feedback form! Never has it been easier to make contact with a deitic being!

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.

Quickie 45 – Weedjies: Halloweed Night (2019)

or “Chuck & Draven’s Nice Screams”

The first of Full Moon father Charles Band’s “Deadly Ten” series of movies (ten movies shot back-to-back and released one month after another), Weedjies is one of my least anticipated releases from the project. Continuing Chuck’s insistence to corner the market on the “pot horror comedies” sub-sub-genre, he’s finally taken a break from making those fucking Evil Bong sequels in favor of The Weedjies. I imagine the brainstorming session for this one consisted of Band and friends hotboxing in his backroom, trying their best to come up with some kind of original intellectual property, then just settling on ripping off one of his old properties (now owned by someone else, I’m sure) before ordering a dozen pizzas and passing out on the floor. Now we have knock-off Ghoulies that are born from a Ouija board…except it’s a Weedjie board (*groan*)…and they’re the Weedjies…because stoners love puns as much as they love taco pizza.

“It’s a classic parlor trick used over a century to dupe rubes of their money.” – Claude (also summing up Charles Band’s body of work *rimshot*)

A trio of female friends (Madison, Dallas, and Frankie) invest the last of their combined monies into renting an old Las Vegas hotel and hosting a weed-centric Halloween super party. The hope is that things will be “off the hook” with the help of their science nerd associate Claude and his single nugget of genetically engineered ultra Mary Jane. This “Golden Nugget” serves as the prize for a scavenger hunt amid the goers, who consist of a lot of extras (porn actresses and Howard Stern cronies) in uninspired leftovers from a Spirit clearance bin, along with several Full Moon character outfits for those role players with a Puppet Master fetish. 

And then there’s Diana Prince (Darcy, Joe Bob Briggs’ current mail girl) who’s decked out in her epic Wolf Cop cosplay from said episode of “The Last Drive-In. Note: her cameo is the only reason I’m watching this guaranteed turd (“I can crap in a box and mark it ‘Guaranteed’ if you want.”), so if you’re reading this Charles Band: more Darcy cosplay cameos, thank you!

The festivities are crashed by a voodoo priestess decked out in her “Sexy Houngan” costume and going by the name of “the Baroness”. Great! I’ll dress up like Destro and she can polish my chrome! Through her magical Weedjie board (*still groaning*) she releases the ghost of Ganja: a floating head that looks like a zombified Bob Marley by way of those kangaroo people from Tank Girl. Ganj in turn summons the eponymous puppets, a quartet of creepy crawlers now loose in the venue to merrily murder party guests until our heroes can capture and return them to the board. But, should they fail to do so by midnight, they’ll become Weedjies themselves! 

Weedjies is stupid bullshit, but by stupid bullshit standards, it’s not the worst. It’s not nearly as IQ poisoning as the butt cloud of Evil Bong, so I guess we can consider this the new high (no pun intended) water mark for Band’s “no amount of 420 will ever make these good” Willie Nelson Specials. If nothing else, at least this one has a cameo by an old PSA hosted by a clearly inebriated Sonny Bono bad mouthing Beelzebub’s bok choy!

Moral of the Story:Teamwork makes the dream work, but this is a nightmare. That’s what I get for eating a whole FunYun casserole before bed.

Final Judgment:

One-and-a-Half Bummer Bonos out-of-Five

———————————————————
———————————————————

———————————————————
———————————————————

Enjoy the review? Hate the review? Have a movie you’d like to see judged in The Tomb? Fill out the feedback form! Never has it been easier to make contact with a deitic being!

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.

Quickie 44 – The Dead Don’t Die (2019)

or “Jim Jarmusch’s Dawn of the Dead Babies”

For those unaware of the method by which Krix and I choose our October viewing material, it’s a random draw “names in a hat” method with a few dozen horror flicks one or both of us hasn’t yet seen. Much like our previous viewing, The Final Girls, tonight’s feature is a fourth wall breaking roundabout of self-aware humor. Rather than an over-the-top ’80s slasher flick though, this time we get a small town zombie outbreak Romero style commentary about American consumerism and generational something-or-other. I’m not 100% sure. I don’t watch Jim Jarmusch movies.

Speaking of things we’ve already done this month, this is also the second feature featuring Tilda Swinton in a prominent role (as “Zelda Winston”). This mean The Tomb now has 27% more “indie cred”! Time to sit back and watch that thick-rimmed glasses and pork-pie hat money roll in!

Jaramusch! Jaramusch! Will you do the Fandango?

“So, the dead just don’t wanna die today, is that it?” – Zelda Winston

Featuring Kylo Ren and Peter Venkmin’s grandpa as the lead law enforcers in the sleepy little town of Centerville, the local yokels’ lives are in for an end of the world scenario. You know, zombie shit. As a result of polar fracking, the planet’s been thrown off its axis, which has lead to a barrage of bad news for Mother Earth. Along with daylight being thrown all out of whack, cellular signals being interrupted, domesticated animals turning feral and radios seemingly only playing the movie’s titular theme song, there’s also the little matter of the dead not dying! Well, they DID die, but now they’re rising from their graves like the hero(es) of Altered Beast to kill the living, adding them to their quickly growing ranks. You know the drill.

Though our leading men, Chief Cliff and Officer Ronnie, are taking the news like someone spiked their daily java with lithium, the other people of Centerville are reacting more appropriately, arming themselves, taking shelter, getting eaten, etc. The only civilian seemingly unconcerned with the amassed masses of mouthy meat munchers is the town’s new mortician, Zelda, a Scottish practitioner of the samurai arts who resembles the love child of than Gollum and Legolas slashfic my ex was so proud of writing. Her prominence with a katana will serve her well in a world where the solution to her primary threat is decapitation. However, her unnervingly casual reaction to the zombie apocalypse isn’t the only odd quirk about Big Z, if you know what I mean…and I really REALLY don’t think you do.

Though it’d be easy to throw The Dead Don’t Die onto the “love it or hate it” pile, given the divided opinions I’ve seen expressed online, I’m throwing myself into the third camp of “Meh”ers. I understood going in that this wasn’t going to be a basic bitch ghoul-go-round, so the absurdity didn’t take me by surprise. Hell, I’m an advocate for Wild Zero! It’s not the incredibly dry approach to the general comedy either. My issue is the uneven tone struck by combining the two. I like sushi and I like ice cream cake, but if you hand me a Fudgie the Whale stuffed with sardines, then you’d better be wearing a poncho when you present it because that’s a guaranteed bucket of barf.

I’m not sure if this is supposed to be the point of the movie, throwing us off with random acts of weirdness slapped against a mumblecore spoof background with the occasional outright ignoring of the fourth wall let alone breaking it, but it’s an odd tilt-a-whirl trip that left me more disengaged than delighted or disappointed. Meh.

Moral of the Story: I don’t know. I think there’s something in there about appreciating life while you have it to live? *shrug* [Editor’s Note/Moral Addendum: Everyone should be an advocate for Wild Zero. ::Sami Callihan voice:: EVERYONE!]

Final Judgment:

Two-and-a-Half Undead Iggy Pops out-of-Five

———————————————————
———————————————————

———————————————————
———————————————————

Enjoy the review? Hate the review? Have a movie you’d like to see judged in The Tomb? Fill out the feedback form! Never has it been easier to make contact with a deitic being!

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.

Quickie 43 – The Final Girls (2015)

or “The Eventuallyending Story”

Our second movie this month to feature one of the “Workaholics” guys (in this case, Adam Devine), tonight’s feature is like a modern day There’s Nothing Out There. If you don’t know what that is, first of all, shame upon thy family’s house and name. Second of all, it did the “horror movie meta” gimmick LONG before Scream was even a ripoff in the wrinkles of Wes Craven’s brain.

“We’re not dead, we’re insane!” – Gertie Michaels

Amanda Cartwright was murder fodder in the ’80s slasher classic Camp Bloodbath. Sadly, the role haunted her would-be career until she died in a car accident, because woman drivers. Am I right, guys?! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa… no one loves you, Sinbad. A year following the fatal fender bender, her daughter Max gets wrangled into making an appearance at a showing of, yep, Camp Bloodbath. While reconsidering the celebration of the anniversary of her mother’s death with a viewing of the movie she considered a curse, Max’s attempt to “get some air” is canceled when the theater goes up like a Great White concert! As our heroine and her friends attempt to escape via the fire exit behind the movie screen, slicing it with a functional machete (that some fan brought along as part of their cosplay), they’re whisked into the movie itself faster than you can say “Whatever happened to that kid from The Last Action Hero anyway?”

Once they’ve finally wrapped their heads around the ridiculous scenario presented them, they opt to play along with the plot and see what happens if they just wait things out until the end credits. Knowing how the movie plays out and having a dyed-in-the-wool horror nerd in their midst, these kids are sure to make it through the next 80 or so minutes unscathed, correct? Not exactly… Oh well, at least Max gets to spend time with her mom… but it’s her mom’s character from the movie, so… I don’t know where I’m going with this point. End paragraph!

Despite establishing rules that it later breaks (and introducing shit like wire-fu and FUCKING MATRIXING, which never happened in ’80s slasher movies!), nitpicking aside this is a decent flick. The characters are likable with even the group’s resident dick bag redeeming themselves before too long, and seeing Max trying to make the most of her time with not-her-mom is actually kinda sweet. That, or the post-enchilada dinner afterglow Krix has put me into has me feeling warmer and gooier inside than normal. Whatever the case, give The Final Girls a watch if you’re up for some very blunt slasher movie meta gags (kudos for their take on flashbacks) to put a smile on your face and a few laughs in your belly.

Oh, and despite this being a movie that makes light of trash cinema tropes, be warned: it’s rated PG-13. Yep. You know what that means: no tits, only minor vulgarity and tame violence. Sad face.

Moral of the Story: Don’t drive computer generated cars or hang around Tina.

Final Judgment:

Three Golden Houdini Tickets out-of-Five

———————————————————
———————————————————

———————————————————
———————————————————

Enjoy the review? Hate the review? Have a movie you’d like to see judged in The Tomb? Fill out the feedback form! Never has it been easier to make contact with a deitic being!

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.

Quickie 41 – 3 From Hell (2019)

or “The Devil’s Rejected Rejects”

Thank Cthulhu. Thank fucking mind destroying cosmic cuttle fish ender of realities Cthulhu for this movie. Why? As much as I wasn’t looking forward to another Rob Zombie movie after 31, today’s movie is an Elder Godsend! Why? Because it means that Sid Haig’s final movie before his passing WASN’T the abominable Death House! I feel like I’ve been blessed by the Galactic Pantheon version of Make-a-Wish!

“Who died and made you King of Mexico?” – Baby Firefly

So, first things first (novel concept, eh?): I was really hoping that the title of the movie was going to be taken literally. I wanted the Devil’s Rejects to become actual rejects of Satan, returned to Earth from the depths of hell for…reasons. Or, you know, have them survive execution because of black magic or some wacky shit. Unbelievable? Well, the actual plot Zombie goes with is almost as. All three of the prior movie’s murderers SURVIVED the lead hailstorm, each taking a DOZEN or more should-be-fatal shots! Holy fucking Terminators, even Half-Dollar Jackson only survived six!

As sad as it is to report, Captain Spaulding doesn’t survive the first ten minutes. With the poor health of Sid Haig (RIP), Zombie was only to get a few brief scenes from the man before his character is found guilty of a billion counts of murder and gets killed off via the death penalty. Baby ends up in prison on a permanent 5150 (the law code, not the Van Hagar album) while Otis gets life in prison. Why not the death penalty too? Probably some loophole like Manson (the Charles, not the Marilyn/Shirley) where the dp was taken off the books and life on a chain gang replaced it.

With Clown Jesus dying for our sins, the eponymous third member of our title is the surviving pair’s half-brother Winslow “Foxy” Coltrane (or, “The Midnight Wolf Man” as he insists on being called), who breaks Otis out of imprisonment. The pair work together to then free Baby before jaunting off to Spring Break in Mexico, where they’re hunted by a very violent vengeance seeker.

The biggest problem with 3 From Hell, nigh-Highlander like immortality of its protagonists aside, is that it’s little more than a rehashing of its predecessor. I don’t know if Zombie’s just out of ideas or his string of not-so-great follow-up features since Devil’s Rejects have forced him to go back to the proverbial well to try and drudge up some of that same magic, but the whole movie feels derivative of his sublime sophomore production. Worse, it takes some of the over-the-top edge out of Rejects as Otis lacks a bit much of that manic psycho energy he had in the first two movies. And if this is supposed to be due to spending 10 years behind bars, it’s never actually established and we just end up with, “Man, Otis became an old fart”.

Baby actually feels like she’s evolved a bit as a character due to her time incarcerated, thankfully less child-like and more broken by her time away from her fellow Fireflies. With age comes wisdom and with wisdom comes the inevitable ennui of “What’s even the point of life anyway?”. With a heavy heart, I have to say that Richard Brake’s Foxy is the lesser of these three evils. A big disappointment given how much his sadistic brilliance was showcased in 31. Hell, his repugnant medic from Halloween II came off as more genuinely sleazy than his feature length part here, with the younger brother of the trio being played more as a punchline.

That’s that. 3 From Hell is a borderline mockbuster of The Devil’s Rejects and though it’s not terrible, it’s not terribly satisfying given the 14 year wait we had to endure. Bummer of a trip, man.

Oh, and how the fuck expensive is it to use good old fashioned squibs instead of computer generated blood splatters?!

Moral of the Story: Clown Heaven is not a place on Earth.

Final Judgment:

Three “DISCO SUCKS” T-Shirts out-of-Five

———————————————————
———————————————————

———————————————————
———————————————————

Enjoy the review? Hate the review? Have a movie you’d like to see judged in The Tomb? Fill out the feedback form! Never has it been easier to make contact with a deitic being!

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.

Quickie 40 – It Follows (2014)

or “Blood On the Sheets”

This is the type of movie that should be shown in high school Health classes. Or elementary school, given how disturbingly early that kids are becoming sexually active these days. Hell, I was a dirty pup in my younger years, if I’d had an iPad that I could find PornHub on at that age, I would’ve shown my babysitter a thing or two instead of vice versa! Okay, now that I’ve probably grossed out 70% of the people reading this by making a mockery of my molestation, maybe we should just get to…you know… the movie.

“It could look like someone you know or it could be a stranger in a crowd. Whatever helps it get close to you.” – Hugh

Jaimie is a young college girl in the prime of her life. Maybe. I don’t really know what qualifies as someone’s “prime” anymore, I just know that I’m WAY past mine. Jay’s got a new man in her life named Hugh, who she’s yet to play “Hide the Sausage” with. However, for the purposes of this particular plot, their intimate exchange of fluids is inevitable. Sure enough, they bump the proverbial uglies in his bitchin’ Spanish Fly mobile, and she instantly regrets it. Did Hugh give her the herps? Fertilize her eggs? Inject her with a chestburster?! Worse.

As the douche explains to her in the ether-soaked afterglow, Jay has now been infected with an STD – Sexually Transmitted Demon. An enigmatic entity whose origins no one knows, whose shape shifts at will but looks like Hollow Man to anyone not subject to its influence, and whose sole reason for existence is to murder-fuck whomever gets stuck with this supernatural hot potato from sex ed hell! The only way to get this monkey off your back? Slap sex meat with someone else and pass it on like the videotape from Ringu.

Like Tom Servo’s laundry list of queries about the human act of “making out”, I too have many inquiries to make about this mysterious metaphor for sexually discharged diseases. However, in the interest of keeping this Vienna Sausage of a review from turning into a windpipe clogging foot long, I’ll save them for a full length rant at another time.

I’d heard a lot of good things about It Follows prior to our viewing and apart from its lead-handed approach to its gimmick, I find myself in agreement. The cinematography is beautiful, the use of color is at times awe-inspiring, the no-name cast all put up performances to be proud of, and Disasterpeace’s soundtrack is aural sex for kinky ears. The whole thing gives me warm memories of The Neon Demon, only with a more structured story and less random “what the hell did we just watch?!” scenes. Note the key word there is “less” and not “no”.

Writer, director and He-of-Three-First-Names, David Robert Mitchell, deserves the heaps of praise sent his way for this movie, and though I have very little interest in his follow-up movie, Under the Silver Lake, I may have to give it a watch anyway. You know, “expand my horizons”. Then again, my horizons are already packed tighter than Lisa Ann’s Play Dough Fun Factory with all the shit I still haven’t made time to watch.

Moral of the Story: Don’t fuck anyone who thinks invisible people are following them. Even if it’s not STD Sadako, it’s probably an ex you don’t want cutting your brakes or setting your home on fire.

Final Judgment:

Four Blue Waffles out-of-Five

———————————————————
———————————————————

———————————————————
———————————————————

Enjoy the review? Hate the review? Have a movie you’d like to see judged in The Tomb? Fill out the feedback form! Never has it been easier to make contact with a deitic being!

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.

Quickie 39 – The Innkeepers (2011)

or “Undead and Breakfast”

Ti West gave us some of the slow burniest slow burn ever with The House of the Devil. If you don’t like the gradual build of suspense to a crescendo finish from your flicks, THotD probably wasn’t your jam and The Innkeepers isn’t likely to change your mind. If you like to watch your candles burn down to that last satisfying flicker before they extinguish for good though, your goody bag is in for a treat.

“Pessimism is just a higher form of optimism.” – Luke

The Yankee Pedlar Inn is verging on closure during this, its final weekend in operation. The only remaining employees, Claire and Luke, are determined to play amateur ghost hunters during these last days in hopes of stirring up some evidence that the place is haunted. Legend says that Madeline O’Malley, a woman whose fiance left her at the altar, killed herself at the Yankee Pedlar on what was supposed to be her wedding day. Unsure of what to do without freaking out the guests and losing business, the owners instructed the staff to store her body in the basement for three days until the situation could be properly sorted. Come to think of it, I don’t think any situation can be “properly sorted” when it involves a 3 days old dead body.

With his Angelfire free website and public domain graphics, Luke has so far uploaded minimal spook footage, with a self-closing door being about the extent of it. Claire refuses to give up though, as her adorable little heart refuses to give up trying to communicate with the long deceased Madeline. With little luck catching anything beyond Claire’s own paranoia, our neophyte supernaturalites get a break when a TV actress-turned-spiritualist turns up to rent a room. With a bit of divination, she warns of not just one, but a trio of spookies that un-live there, and for a bonus she tosses in a warning that Claire should stay away from the basement…which means she’s gonna end up in that fucking basement minus her life, isn’t she?

To reiterate, Ti West is an advocate for gradually progressing stories. Whether you find it to be a suspenseful march of tension or the pace of a snail you’d rather salt is up to you. I might have been more into The Innkeepers if I hadn’t seen The House of the Devil first. For my 37 cents, West’s freshman feature had better surprises and a more satisfying finale, while Innkeepers sets a steadier pace but has a few too many jump scare fake outs for me. There are some ghastly visions to be had, but it take a special kind of ghost story to unnerve me and though I can applaud (mildly) the movie’s best efforts, I was still left wanting more. Especially from that epilogue… *blart*

At least it’s shot well. Like, really well. Oh, and Lena Dunham cameos as the pair’s barista-next-door if that means anything to anybody. No? I didn’t think so.

Moral of the Story: Never skimp on bread. You’ll always regret it… ALWAYS.

Final Judgment:

Three Stephen Gammell Illustrations out-of-Five

———————————————————
———————————————————

———————————————————
———————————————————

Enjoy the review? Hate the review? Have a movie you’d like to see judged in The Tomb? Fill out the feedback form! Never has it been easier to make contact with a deitic being!

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.