Technically it was Terry's week to review the Killer B but since he refuses, I'll take up the mantle. (She sighs with the air of a movie martyr.) Hmmm….where to start?
"Don't give me no sass, it was a gas!"
Boy, I wish I could say that about this movie. I really wanted to like Psycho Beach Party and not because of my BtVS crush on Nicholas Brendon.
If ever there was a week to reject one's blog responsibility it was this one. Pyscho Beach Party is easily our most difficult movie to review to date. Pyscho Beach Party doesn't give a blogger much to sink their teeth into. How do you review a "cute" movie that was supposed to be a psycho killer piece? Pyscho Beach party was in fact so light on the killer narrative that I would wager that less than a gallon of red Karo syrup was used in the making of this movie.
Now, in its defense, Psycho Beach Party is a tribute to the California-surfer-beach-going-Gidget-learns-to-surf frolics of the 60's which similarly didn’t feature a lot of faux blood. But I guess we just expected more from a film whose movie poster promises "part 70's slasher flick."
We did find a few chuckles in the homoerotic shtick that included a chick played by a dude just for the sake of it (we dubbed her "Monica the Manika") and a gay dress up party. But the primary premise of the movie, the Chicklet-gets-grows-a-split-personality-and-kills-people narrative, was a yawn.
I'll give it partial props for self-awareness. Pyscho Beach Party is a B movie that set out to be nothing but a B movie. As Terry's commented as the credits rolled, "It was a good period piece."
Potential Drinking Games: One drink for every baby-oiled Grecco wrestling match. One drink for every homoerotic reference (though you're likely to end up flat on your face before the movie's over.)
"Don't give me no sass, it was a gas!"
Boy, I wish I could say that about this movie. I really wanted to like Psycho Beach Party and not because of my BtVS crush on Nicholas Brendon.
If ever there was a week to reject one's blog responsibility it was this one. Pyscho Beach Party is easily our most difficult movie to review to date. Pyscho Beach Party doesn't give a blogger much to sink their teeth into. How do you review a "cute" movie that was supposed to be a psycho killer piece? Pyscho Beach party was in fact so light on the killer narrative that I would wager that less than a gallon of red Karo syrup was used in the making of this movie.
Now, in its defense, Psycho Beach Party is a tribute to the California-surfer-beach-going-Gidget-learns-to-surf frolics of the 60's which similarly didn’t feature a lot of faux blood. But I guess we just expected more from a film whose movie poster promises "part 70's slasher flick."
We did find a few chuckles in the homoerotic shtick that included a chick played by a dude just for the sake of it (we dubbed her "Monica the Manika") and a gay dress up party. But the primary premise of the movie, the Chicklet-gets-grows-a-split-personality-and-kills-people narrative, was a yawn.
I'll give it partial props for self-awareness. Pyscho Beach Party is a B movie that set out to be nothing but a B movie. As Terry's commented as the credits rolled, "It was a good period piece."
Potential Drinking Games: One drink for every baby-oiled Grecco wrestling match. One drink for every homoerotic reference (though you're likely to end up flat on your face before the movie's over.)
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