The Last Horror Movie - Oh, If Only.
The Last Horror Movie
Kevin Howarth .... Max
Mark Stevenson .... The Assistant
Antonia Beamish .... Petra
Christabel Muir .... Sam
Jonathan Coote .... John
Rita Davies .... Grandma
Joe Hurley .... Ben
Jamie Langthorne .... Nico
John Berlyne .... Phil
Mandy Gordon .... Sarah
Jim Bywater .... Bill
Chris Adamson .... Killer
Lisa Renée .... Waitress
Brian Bowles .... Newsreader
Alexandra Hill .... Bridesmaid
This week I'm still coming to you thanks to horrormovies.com. Please, go. Then come back and read about a candidate for this year's most reprehensible movie.
What does it say about our society when someone can create a film exhibiting the
most awful kind of casual brutality and yet make that film so utterly, utterly
boring that it's almost unwatchable?
Want to find out? Check out Fangoria's newest release, "The Last Horror Movie."
So what we have here is the story of a wedding photographer with a dark
secret--he's a serial killer on the side.
And all this time I thought it was the wedding singers that went insane. But I
guess between photographing fat drunken uncles in ill-fitting formal wear,
various bridesmaids in matching horrible outfits, and inhaling developer roughly
four hours a day isn't exactly a recipe for sanity.
But anyway, Max, the wedding photographer is out documenting his insane antics
with the help of a homeless assistant. Max makes quite the charming lunatic,
and presents his audience with the mind of a madman. He realizes, to his
astonishment, that his audience is shocked by the casual brutality. This leads
him to ask the ten thousand dollar question:
"If you're so horrified, why are you still watching?"
He puts forth one answer:
"You shouldn't be. And that's why you are."
Which of course irritates me to no end. The last thing I need is a serial
killer trying to tell me it's all my fault that he goes off on the killing
rampages. This is the most stunning and inventive example of hypocrisy I have
ever had the displeasure of witnessing. The serial killer jams chunks of metal
into the bowels of innocent people and it's MY fault because I watch a certain
genre of movie.
Sure, Max. And it's the bank's fault I'm broke.
And yes, it's fictional. But frankly, I've heard it before, from pretty much
everybody who ever wanted to be allowed their crimes in peace. The callousness with which Max admits his crimes is truly alarming, and we've heard this before too. Watch the evening news some night, and you might well hear a serial killer admit to his crimes with all the remorse and emotion of a man detailing how many pizzas he ate last year.
It is as plain as the nose on my face, which I personally guarantee is both very
plain and also very substantial, that Julian Richards was going for "callous
And there's no doubt he got it. And he got its brother. And he got everything
in between and to the sides.
There is also no doubt that "The Last Horror Movie" serves its purpose. Julian
Richards wanted to put forth a thought-provoking piece about the nature of
maliciousness and satisfaction in life.
What Julian Richards did NOT do, however, was make an entertaining film.
"The Last Horror Movie" wavers wildly between mind-shattering, vicious brutality
and mind-shattering, vicious boredom. Long stretches of people eating, Max
carrying on conversations seemingly at random, and other, lesser materials are
thrown in amidst scenes people being beaten with steel claw hammers.
It is true to life, it is absolutely thought-provoking, and it is as dull as a
bag of anvils.
Life is not entertainment. If the reality TV movement didn't prove that fact
conclusively, nothing will.
Which is the worst part of the whole business. The fact that this kind of
movie, which is designed to exhibit casual mayhem and senseless slaughter at its
most egregious could also be the most boring film released in 2005 is profoundly
The ending is, well, yipes. Everything from brawls and fistfights to bizarre
culinary secrets and of course raving ranting hypocrisy like nothing ever seen
before by man is packed into this display of sheer bizarre, and at the same
time, vaguely terrifying.
The special features include deleted scenes, a behind the scenes featurette,
cast auditions, and a deranged little two-minute short film called "The Shoe
Collector" which is actually rather clever in its way. Also, we get trailers
for "Corn," "Gypsy 83," and "Virgin."
All in all, Julian Richards' magnificent think piece fails to entertain or even
vaguely satisfy. It is the single biggest yawnfest I've seen so far this year,
and this is also somehow alarming.