Tag: USA

Cold Blooded Killers

  By

★★
“In severe need of warming up.”

A confusing mess with some redeeming features, we first see the titular assassin – in either title – Rose (Rose) taking out an entire family in their home. This is notable in two ways. First, how the wife keeps an arsenal of weapons under the sink. Second, how Rose kills the young daughter, after the little girl vows to take revenge when she grows up. This is, unfortunately, as good as it gets. Before long, coherence is left by the wayside. The basic plot involves Rose’s sister Misty, being kidnapped by Hank (Sheridan), in revenge for her killing of his brother. She heads out, accompanied by her sister’s boss Becky (Williams), in search of Hank and Misty.

But there are also a slew – far too many for the script to handle, truth be told – of other assassins, on Rose’s tail, working through some kind of phone app for hitmen. It’s difficult to keep track of them all, and even the movie can’t manage it. For example, at one point, another killer is clearly introduced as Anita, but the on-screen caption calls her Marilyn. I read reports there were issues in production, with control being taken away from the director, and all manner of extra footage shot. That would go some way to explain this jumbled mess, and why it wasn’t released until three years after the initial shoot had finished. Though, of course does not excuse it.

I will say, the final battle is somewhat amusing. Albeit, more for Becky going berserk with a chainsaw, than Rose firing hundreds of bullets at her target, who drops with a feeble three or four blood squibs on his chest. If the film had concentrated on that pair, it might have amounted to something, as their scenes have a rough edge to them that is entertaining to watch. And, let’s face it, the amount of cleavage on view from both is not exactly a detriment. I’ll also acknowledge the presence of legendary scream queen Brinke Stevens, which is never a bad thing, even in little more than a cameo, as here. 

However, the flaws are considerably more numerous. Even though our heroines are fun, we’re never given any real reason to care about either of them. The same goes for the other characters: Hank’s impact is almost entirely limited to his facial hair, and Anita/Marilyn to her costume choices. There is little or no structure, with the grand finale coming out of nowhere, and delivering a twist which neither was a surprise, nor made much sense. I’m also not a fan of copious CGI, which appears to have been used for a lot of the gunplay, and in a sloppy way at that. The end result is something which would probably make a very good trailer, yet would leave any viewer of said trailer, hugely disappointed. For this is 10 minutes of decent content in a 90-minute movie.

Dir: Rickey Bird Jr.
Star: Felissa Rose, Dave Sheridan, Caroline Williams, Steven Chase
a.k.a. Killer Rose

Revenge Ride

  By

★★½
“Violence isn’t the answer. No, wait…”

Mary (Dubasso) is drugged and raped by three members of the football team at a college party. Believing neither the college authorities nor the police will do anything, she turns to cousin Maggie (Swan) for help, because her relative is a member of the all-female Dark Moon motorcycle gang (eloquent slogan: “Eat my pussy”). Run by Trygga (McIntosh), they take revenge on the rapists, branding their catchphrase on the perpetrator’s asses, and leaving them in full view on the college campus. The fraternity boys don’t take this kindly, and strike back, causing things to escalate towards an all-out war. Complicating matters are Maggie’s increasing feelings for Brian (Boneta), one of the team, though uninvolved in the rape.

If ever they do a Daughters of Anarchy series, McIntosh needs to be the lead She has the perfect physical and psychological presence for the role, and is perfectly cast here. Seeing her, drenched in blood, whacking someone’s brains out with an iron chain, is sufficient reason for this to exist. Unfortunately, it’s about all this has to offer. The script is full of mis-steps, mostly a result of trying to cram too much into a running time which barely reaches 70 minutes before the credits roll. As a result, the relationship between Maggie and Brian feels unconvincing, and Mary’s induction into the gang is also deeply rushed. What, no time as a prospect? From my deep knowledge of their culture (obtained entirely from having watched every episode of Sons of Anarchy), I know it’s not typically harder to get into a sorority than a biker gang.

That said, the idea that three footballers would be able to hold their own against, and pose a threat to, the entire ranks of Dark Moon membership, doesn’t exactly sell them as the set of bad-ass bitches they’re supposed to be. The action scenes also leave a good amount to be desired, McIntosh’s chain-swinging aside, and the finale feels unnecessarily rushed, as if the makers ran out of money and had to end things without getting to film an acceptable wrap-up. Despite efforts to address their absence, the complete lack of interest by the authorities in the mayhem as it unfolds, stretches credulity as well.

Philosophically, it does seem to change its answer in the middle. Is violence acceptable or not? Initially, it seems gung-ho in favour of vengeance. While Mary eventually rejects this, it seems to be only when it threatens to engulf Brian, so appears to be for personal reasons, rather than any modification of her world-view. It feels as if the makers want the audience to reject the notion… while also using it to fuel an adrenaline rush of righteous justice. Perhaps, again, if the film had taken the time to depict Mary’s attitude adjustment, it could have brought viewers along with her. Instead, it all feels a bit hypocritical. I will, however, continue to watch McIntosh in anything and everything.

Dir: Melanie Aitkenhead
Star: Serinda Swan, Pollyanna McIntosh, Vanessa Dubasso, Diego Boneta

Bruised

  By

★★★★
“Packs a surprising punch.”

Halle Berry was born the same year I was. There is, however, just one of us that is capable of convincingly playing the role of a mixed martial artist. To give you another yardstick, the lead in this was originally going to go to Mrs. Ryan Reynolds, Blake Lively (The Shallows and The Rhythm Section), who is more than 20 years younger than Berry. I will admit, Chris did raise one of her sardonic eyebrows at the scene where Halle’s character buys Tampax, and the idea of her having a six-year-old son is perhaps a bit of a stretch. But if you didn’t know the actress has been AARP-eligible for over five years, you’d simply never guess.

This is probably the best movie yet made about women’s combat sports, though that’s not exactly going up against strong competition. The script is probably the only weak element, never escaping the standard clichés; there are very few surprises in its 138 minutes. But just about every other aspect is excellent. The heroine is Jackie Justice (Berry), a former UFC fighter, whose promising career fell apart four years ago. She just lost her job as a cleaner, and is pretty much at rock-bottom. Her boyfriend/”manager”  Desi (Canto) takes Jackie to an underground match, where she is provoked into beating her opponent into a pulp. That gets the attention of a local promoter, who gives her one last shot, a bout against undefeated champion, Lucia “Lady Killer” Chavez (Valentina Shevchenko, the current UFC Women’s Flyweight Champion, whose fight face is genuinely scary!).

Of course, even to reach that point, she has to overcome the inevitable slew of obstacles. Desi’s domestic abuse, the doubts of her trainer, Buddhaken (Atim); and in particular, having her son Manny (Boyd) dumped on her, after the death of his father. Naturally, Jackie is able to rise above them all, and get her moment in the sun. Really, there’s only two possible outcomes – she wins or she doesn’t – and neither are exactly novel. Still, it’s all so earnest that you can’t help be pulled in. Berry sells the tropes with the conviction of her performance, and there are particularly good supporting roles from theatre veterans Atim, and Adriane Lenox as Jackie’s mother.

It’s worth pointing out that this is also Berry’s directorial debut, and it’s a very assured first feature. It never feels long, and about the only thread which felt superfluous was the romantic entanglement with her trainer. The resulting lesbisn canoodling seemed a bit gratuitous and out of sync with the gritty, down to earth feel from the rest of the movie. Fortunately, there are more than enough powerful and excellent scenes, and it’s very easy to get behind the heroine in her quest for redemption. Jackie is a character who comes with a lot of baggage, yet it all just makes her struggle seem all the more real. A shame this, Berry’s portrayal in particular, will likely be overlooked come the Oscars.

Dir: Halle Berry
Star: Halle Berry, Sheila Atim, Danny Boyd Jr, Adan Canto

Enhanced

  By

★★½
“X Offender”

The German title for this is, apparently, Mutant Outcasts, and that perhaps gives you a better insight than the official, relatively generic title. There’s more than a hint of X-Men to this, though the superpowered members of humanity in question here, are artificial constructions, created as part of a secret research project by the military-industrial complex. They are now out in the world with the regular population, but are being recaptured by operative George Shepherd (Tchortov) and his squad. Their latest target is Anna (Bale), who had been living quietly as a car mechanic, until she’s forced to use her powers after a gang of thugs show up. That gets her on George’s radar – but also that of David (Mark). While initially, he seems on Anna’s side, turns out he has been killing the superpowered citizens, and absorbing their powers into himself.

There’s a nice mix of grey here, in that George shifts sides as he realizes the truth. But the authorities, such as his boss Captain Williams (Holmes) are not “evil,” as such, but genuinely believe the escapees present a serious threat to the rest of the population. To some extent, he’s not wrong, as the potential for their powers in the wrong hands e.g. David’s, is very significant. It might have been nice if he had been one of them too, for balance; the actual explanation is, I must admit, rather implausible, even in a film about vat-grown mutants with paranormal abilities. It all builds in a rather predictable way to the face-off at the headquarters of Military-Industrial Incorporated, where David walks in, and starts tossing bodies about like rag-dolls.

The director’s background is in the stunt world, and you can tell this, with plenty of scenes of his colleagues throwing themselves around enthusiastically. I was rather disappointed with the lack of screen-time given to Anna’s powers, though this is somewhat redeemed by a good hand-to-hand battle between her and David which forms the film’s climax. To that point, I was seriously wondering whether this should even be reviewed here, but it managed to push the needle over the necessary red line. Most of the time, this is adequately entertaining, though comes off more as an upper-tier SyFy original movie: workmanlike, rather than memorable.

Indeed, I watched it less than an hour ago, and already found myself having to Google certain points like character names. Bale does make a reasonably good impression; she comes over a little like a low-rent version of Tatiana Maslany. The rest of the cast, however, struggle to create any significant impact; the line between them and the generic stuntmen that go flying around is a thin one. There is definitely a strong sense of deja vu in the overall concept: if you’ve not seen several films or series about poor, unfortunate superheroes being persecuted, you’re clearly not trying! But this is reasonably well-executed as to just about get over the red line as passable entertainment too.

Dir: James Mark
Star: Alanna Bale, George Tchortov, Chris Mark, Adrian Holmes

Masquerade

  By

★½
“Home confusion.”

It’s never a good sign, when the first thing we do at the end of a movie, is go straight to the Internet and try to find out what happened. That’s what we needd to do here, after a “twist” left us both thoroughly confused as hell about what had happened. After 15-20 minutes of both Chris and I googling, I think we eventually achieved some kind of consensus. But it was far from satisfying, and we are definitely not happy about it. I admire the attempt made to up-end everything the audience has seen over the previous 75 minutes. Unfortunately, when the execution is as wretched as here, I wish writer-director Taylor hadn’t bothered. 

After Girl and Chick Fight, it seems to be part of Bella Thorne’s attempts to re-invent herself as an action heroine, rather than the wussy vampire lover of Twilight fame. But this appears to have mutated more into a race to the bottom, between her and Ruby Ros,e as to who can select the worse projects. While both actresses have potential, neither of them have found material which is decent. This definitely ranks among the crappiest, even before reaching the ending. It’s about the burglary of a mansion belonging to married art brokers, Olivia (Monroe) and Daniel, by a masked man and a woman (Samuels). The couple’s young daughter, Casey (Lind) hides after the babysitter is brutally bludgeoned to death, while waitress Rose (Thorne), who is driving the couple home, appears to be in cahoots with the home invaders. Key word: appears.

The burglars turn the power off, for no particular reason – it’s established they had already disabled the alarm. Which means that the bulk of the movie has everyone involved creeping around the house in near darkness. I don’t know why film-makers persist in doing this. I stopped being scared of the dark when was 11, and now it’s just an irritant. Not helping matters, the criminals demonstrate absolutely no sense of urgency, moving at the most languid pace possible, when you would think it would behoove them to get in and out as quickly as possible. Of course, these actions are so that the movie can happen, with Casey crawling around the attic space, desperately trying to avoid capture, as Rose looms ever closer.

Lind is probably the best thing about this, balancing nicely between being brave and resourceful, without toppling over into Hit Girl-like excess. But even here there are problems – such as, why she didn’t get her parents’ gun earlier, or make any effort to call for help, leave the house, etc. It all adds up to one of the most woefully inept scripts I’ve had the misfortune to view in a long time. I should have seen the warning signs on the poster: when the thing you want to tout most is the producers’ previous credits, you have a very weak hand. Still better than Twilight though. Albeit, only just.

Dir: Shane Dax Taylor
Star: Bella Thorne, Alyvia Alyn Lind, Skyler Samuels, Mircea Monroe

Rag Doll

  By

★★★
“Punching up”

Truth be told, this took me two attempts to get through. The first foundered inside about thirty minutes, because I just wasn’t feeling it at the time. The movie made so little impression I managed to forget completely I’d seen it, and so it eventually made its way back onto my watch-list. When I realized this, I almost debated nixing it again; however, I persisted, and am at least somewhat glad I did. If falling well short of being a classic – not least, because of a twist ending which is both superfluous and a terrible misfire – there is enough here to merit a review.

Nora (Murray) is juggling several life elements, all of which demand more than she is able or prepared to give, and which are interfering with each other. Firstly, she has a mother, Catherine (Erb) with stage 4 cancer, requiring constant care. Then there’s her job, which involves cleaning motel rooms – and, to make ends meet, turning occasional tricks. Finally, there’s her actual passion: mixed martial-arts at a local gym, under the eagle eye of trainer Rosheen (Jones). Nora is there mostly as a sparring partner (read: punching-bag) for the more talented Aisha (Sanchez). But there’s a tournament for female MMA’ers coming up, with a $100,000 prize. That would take care of a lot of her problems, if she could win it. Life, however, appears to have other plans for her, not least her workmates’ intense, increasing dislike of her.

It’s a very earnest film, with not much in the way of light-hearted moments, beyond Catherine’s death-bed self-sarcasm. It stands almost entirely on the strength of Murray’s performance, which is intense to the point of occasionally being uncomfortable to watch. The MMA scenes are well-staged, the camera getting right in there with the participants, and incorporating some particularly good audio work (you can hear the muscles stretching). These elements work much better than the script, which is an awkward combination of sports movie cliche with kitchen-sink working-class drama, and is not particular convincing as either. In particular, there’s an attempt to shoehorn in a romantic subplot for Nora, which ends up being more cringeworthy than effective. Indeed, the same goes for the sexual tension between Nora and Aisha, though fortunately, that lasts just one scene.

The problem is that neither Nora nor the film need anyone else. She’s the very epitome of a strong, independent heroine, who is trying to make her way in life, through circumstances which would reduce most of us to a wreck in short order. Simply having her handle this would prove sufficient drama for most purposes. Neither the romantic entanglements nor the climactic tournament offer as much proof of life as, for example, her standing up against her part-time pimp. Then there’s that twist, which presumably seemed like a good idea. At some point. To someone or other. I can’t imagine when or who though. I would not be averse to seeing Murray in future, however, on the basis of her powerful performance here. Providing you are in the right mood, anyway.

Dir: Bailey Kobe
Star: Shannon Murray, Stephanie Erb, Dot-Marie Jones, Roxana Sanchez

9-Ball

  By

★½
“A load of balls.”

Oh, dear. There’s part of me which thinks this is what you get when you try and make actors out of pool players. For the star here, Barretta, is one of the top women cue artists in the world. She’s joined here by cameos from a couple of bigger pool stars i.e. people even I’ve heard of, in Jeanette ‘The Black Widow’ Lee and Allison Fisher, and you can’t really expect much out of any professional sportswomen, in terms of acting ability. However, she isn’t that bad, though this may just be relative to some of her fellow cast members. And, to be fair to the actors here, you could be an Oscar-winner, and still not be able to do anything with the wretched script, which is little more than a parade of cliches, when not being a shameless advert for the American Poolplayers Association and its leagues.

Gail (Barretta) is the daughter of a pool player, who saw Dad stabbed to death in the street in front of her house. Taken in by creepy Uncle Joey (Hanover), Gail has clearly inherited some of her father’s skills, and Joey makes her turn them to his benefit, hustling suckers for money in bars. But, of course, Gail has dreams of her own, meeting Nice Guy™ Mark (Kochanowicz), and wants to leave Joey to head out on her own as a professional player. Hence the largely pointless cameos by Lee and Fisher, advising Gail how to achieve her goal. Joey isn’t happy at the prospect of using his cash cow, and beats up Gail, who absconds with his “retirement fund”. Though initially sent to jail, he gets bailed out, and the time spent inside hasn’t exactly improved his temper.

I was really hoping for considerably more, and better filmed, pool. It’s  closer to being a Lifetime TVM with occasional interludes of the sport. And on the (sporadic) occasions we see Gail in action, we mostly see her striking the cue ball, or the target ball going into the pocket – hardly ever both in the same frame. What’s the point of having one of the world’s top players in your movie, if you rarely see them making their pro-quality shots?

It all builds towards an APA team tournament in Las Vegas, which at least. is a little better in this regard. Though that only shows up in the last ten minutes, leaving precious little room for any kind of tension to built. We gallop through it, to a final shot which don’t realize is the final shot, until after it has been pocketed. Even Joey’s subplot is hustled off-screen with an absolute minimum of excitement, despite him turning up at the event with a gun. There are possibilities in the idea, which I won’t deny: after all, pool is one of the few games where men and women can compete on equal terms. But they are painfully squandered by the wretched direction and script. As bar sports action heroine movies go, I guess we’ll have to wait for the Fallon Sherrock biopic.

Dir: Anthony Palma
Star: Jennifer Barretta, Kurt Hanover, Mark Kochanowicz, Jennifer Butler

Too Hot to Handle

  By

★★★
“If you can’t stand the heat…”

Director Schain had already worked with his wife Caffaro on the Ginger trilogy, in which she played (per Wikipedia), “a tough and resourceful bed-hopping private-eye and spy.” Here, the character isn’t too different, though her day job is rather more morally questionable, being a professional killer. “Samantha Fox” (Caffaro) is the identity she has adopted, as she works on a series of hits in the Philippines. On her trail is the local chief of detectives, Domingo De La Torres (Ipalé), who first views Samantha as a suspect, but their relationship quickly becomes more intimate. It feels almost like a precursor to Basic Instinct, in that there’s a cop obsessed with someone he’s supposed to be investigating, and really doesn’t care whether or not she’s a murderer.

The film does aim to make Samantha quite a sympathetic character, in that all the people we see her kill, as ones without whom society is better off. But there are a couple of moments where she seems clearly psychopathic, to Villanelle-esque levels. For example, she takes pleasure in sitting and watching her first victim slowly suffocate to death. This is not by accident. When Domingo takes her on a shooting trip, she states, “It’s much more of a turn on to watch something die slowly. Even then, the greater the distance, the less the fun.” It’s an attitude we see in action, at a cock-fighting event which is apparently her idea of a date night (I’m pleased to report Chris is perfectly happy with dinner and a movie). While watching animals fight to the death, she is simultaneously dreaming about having sex. This seems… not exactly normal.

Yet, Samantha is still depicted as nicer than her victims: it’s not as if her twisted fantasies hurt anyone else. Well, except for her victims, anyway. I did like the way she rarely used physical means to take them down, outside of a duel against an operative De La Torres sends to the boat where she lives. Mind you, that scene is functional rather than impressive, and so it makes sense for the film-makers to script it so that she relies on her smarts. She’s fond of disguises, whether it’s pretending to be an art journalist, or going full brownface as she pretends to be a local maid. Caffaro clearly also has no inhibitions about shedding her clothes, though her figure is on the lighter side for my tastes.

Less effective in general is Ipalé, who became well-knows twenty years later, as Pharaoh Seti in The Mummy and its sequel. It feels as if he learned his lines phonetically, and he makes little overall impression here. I was more excited to see veteran Philippino actor Diaz as De La Torres’s lieutenant, for once getting to play a good guy. Overall, while nothing particularly special, this is reasonably entertaining, and considerably more twisted than I expected in terms of its protagonist and her psyche.

Dir: Don Schain
Star:  Cheri Caffaro, Aharon Ipalé, Vic Diaz, Corinne Calvet

Skull Forest

  By

★½
“Going Dutch can be a very bad thing…”

I think Len Kabasinski probably is the director with more  films reviewed here than anyone else, save perhaps Andy Sidaris. This is the fifth; the previous four have seem palpable improvement, from the near-unwatchable Warriors of the Apocalypse, to the reasonably competent Hellcat’s Revenge II: Deadman’s Hand. This, however, is one of his earlier efforts, and you have to peer pretty hard past the dreadful film-making style to see any worthwhile elements.

In particular, it feels as if it was made as a wager, after someone bet him he couldn’t make an entire film with the camera pointed at a 30-degree angle. The Dutch angle shot, in which the camera is tilted to evoke a sense of unease, is a well-known cinematic technique, used by the likes of Hitchcock. But it’s one that needs moderation. In a famous review of Battlefield Earth, Roger Ebert said of the director, “Roger Christian, has learned from better films that directors sometimes tilt their cameras, but he has not learned why.” The same is true here of Kabasinski, who appears to think every shot is better at 30 degrees off vertical. Or perhaps he was just drunk throughout filming. Then there’s the excessive close-ups and violent shaking of the camera. No. Just, no.

The story open with a quote from The Most Dangerous Game, and that’s what we get. Four women, on a weekend getaway, find themselves targeted by a group of rich hunters, and have to fight for their lives. That’s the entire plot, and I’m fine with that. The action is no great shakes, to be honest; a lot of something happening off-screen, then cut to a not-too-convincing make-up effect. The only sequence that succeeded in holding my attention, was when two women among the hunters had a falling out, and ended up fighting each other. Kabasinski plays another one of the villains, and I’m not sure which is more distracting: the single contact lens his character wears, or the bad English accent employed, for no apparent reason.

However, there is a surprising amount of nudity, so the film, clearly aiming at shallow exploitation (and I’m fine with that too!), does at least deliver on this score. Though it is a bit of a mixed bag; Playboy model Neeld looks the best, but Brooks has the most memorable (if not exactly erotic)  shot, clawing her way naked out of the shallow grave in which she was left for dead, and beginning her quest for vengeance. However, the impact of these and any other credible moments, are sucked away by the truly dreadful camerawork employed. It seems likely to induce motion sickness and/or a migraine. If he’d simply nailed the camera to a tree, it would have been an enormous improvement, and likely been worth close to another whole star. I guess this was early enough in his career Kabasinski was still experimenting. We should be glad it’s not a style with which he persisted.

Dir: Len Kabasinski
Star: Sara Brooks, Lisa Neeld, Pamela Sutch, Melissa Scott

HellKat

  By

★
“Contains far too much pussying about.”

Rarely has there been a bigger gap between expectations generated by a synopsis, and the underwhelming reality of the actual movie. The former: “A fallen MMA fighter must win a netherworld no-holds-barred death tournament against man, beast and demon to save her soul. ” While I guess it’s not technically inaccurate, you will be forgiven for expecting something like Mortal Kombat on ‘roids – and not the recent, fairly crappy remake. Instead, you get a film which dillies, dallies and faffs about for the first forty minutes. Considering it runs less than eighty in total, including the end credits, this is not a good thing. And the “netherworld no-holds-barred death tournament”? It’s a boxing ring lit by red lights, in which the heroine has a couple of fights against people in remaindered Halloween masks. You should now understand my palpable disappointment.

When you are a low-budget movie (actually, true for any level, but especially on smaller budgets), you typically need to hit the ground running, and grab your audience’s attention quickly. It’s okay if there’s a lull thereafter, but in today’s world of short attention spans and other entertainment alternatives, if you lose people, they’re probably gone forever. Unless, that is, they run a site devoted to action heroines in popular culture, and thus feel obligated to soldier on, for review purposes. Though even they maybe spend more time than is ideal checking their email, eating snacks, and wondering how in hell they are ever going to write 500 words about this.

In this case, it begins with ex MMA fighter Katrina (Cohen), who is on the road in murky circumstances. Her car breaks down, and she accepts a lift from a stranger, whom she ends up having to shoot. She then goes to a bar, and hangs out there for a bit, being paid in tequila for mopping up patrons’ puke. The customers are an unprepossessing lot, abusive to each other and to Kat, even though the barman (Bouchet) wields a sawn-off shotgun at the slightest provocation. Again, we get forty minutes of this before the Devil, or a representative thereof, turns up in the shape of the man who gave her a lift. He is Satanic fight promoter Jimmy Scott (Davies), who gets Kat’s signature on a contract and the tournament is finally under way.

It’s pretty obvious we’re not in the real world from the get-go, e.g. Scott possesses demonic teeth and doesn’t die after getting shot. A bar patron survives a shotgun blast to the head with nothing more than a bad attitude. The number of moons exceeds the customer “one”. Kat, however, is so oblivious that none of this makes any impression on her. Any of this would have been forgivable, had the fight scenes – when they show up – been solid and effective. They aren’t. There’s a couple of decent moments, and Cohen’s stunt double [yeah, it’s kinda obvious] is athletic enough. Then it’s back to the chit-chat once again. Nobody cares. If there is a hell, it probably involves watching this on endless repeat.

Dir: Scott Jeffrey, Rebecca Matthews
Star: Sarah T. Cohen, Ryan Davies, Serhat Metin, Adrian Bouchet