~~~This review was originally written in 2011~~~
Oh yay. Another cabin in the woods horror film, aka definitive proof that Jesus hates me. It’s my own fault really, as I queue the majority of these films up without reading the descriptions, desperate for review fodder as I sometimes am. Great, what’s this one about? Blahblahblah bikers, blahblahblah partying, blahblahblah malevolent force. Hmmm, from the people who brought me Rob Zombie’s Halloween, huh? Oh, and the TCM remake? Oh goody. This has uber suckfabulous shit-lollipop potential written all over it.
Okay Annie, just pretend it’s your annual pap smear. Pop the damn thing in and let’s get this over with. 2 min: incoherent yelling, gunshot, opening credits. 5 min: rough sex. 7 min: heading up to moms cabin in the woods for birthday bash, thank you backstory. 10 min: wow, mom gets a lap dance from two butchy stripper girls? Okay, that’s kinda awesome. 12 min: hey, that’s Tiffany Shepis! Wearing too much eyeliner! I can see my fucking reflection in her lip gloss, wow! 15 min: smart, virginal girl is very obviously in love with cute biker boy who got dumped by Tiff. 20 min: Hey, when is this movie gonna start sucking?
Truth it, it never really does suck. Color me all surprised an’ shit. Because honestly, it had ample opportunity to do so. It never delivers a solid story, never explains what the fuck is going on and really doesn’t give a shit. Sink or swim, baby. If you grab hold and go with it, The Violent Kind will leave you behind with road rash all over your psyche. It won’t wait for you to catch up. It’s way too busy having an immense amount of fun, slamming its psychobilly influences headlong into a caravan of Hell Angels which rolls and burns right into Lovecraft land. If The Stray Cats had fired Brian Setzer, replaced him with Marilyn Manson and started making incidental music for Nat Geo’s 6 part documentary on “The Whisperer In Darkness” it might have come out looking a lot like this film. Seriously, that’s how fucking crazy this shit is.
You know there’s something bad in the woods, if only because the sinister music tells you so. But what is it? A rival biker gang? Ghosts? A two hundred pound iguana that pisses battery acid? I had no clue. I still don’t. All I can tell you for sure is this: drunken biker party ends, Tiffany drives off drunk with her new douchebag boyfriend and returns a while later, ripped up like a puppy’s squeaky toy. Smoking hot biker chick Shade somehow knows that there’s a demon inside of Tif, a speculation confirmed when Tif starts crawling around on the ceiling and beats the shit out of Shade’s man Q. Meanwhile, cute boy Cody and Tif’s lil’ sis Megan stumble upon the suicide from the pre-credit sequence and hightail it back to the cabin, their falling-in-love thing interrupted by an Evil Dead invasion of demonic 50s swing kids with ducks ass hairdos. Before you can sing the first line of Bobby Darin’s “Splish Splash” you’re in the cosmic void, drowning in the madness that is the darkness between the stars. You may be lost, but at least there’s Tiffany getting totally naked, a guy who looks like Giovanni Ribisi and a pretty sweet soundtrack, including the song “Little Wren” by Lys Guillorn which I bought off of iTunes immediately after watching this film because I haven’t heard a song that full of awesome since Burzum did “Dunkelheit.”
You think you know what’s going on? You don’t. You think Tiffany is going to die because she’s a whore? Think again. You assumed the word “Pussywagon” couldn’t be inventively used again after Kill Bill? WRONGface! You can’t assume jack with this film. Don’t even try. Just go with it, and hang on tight. It’s a sweetass load of crazy.
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