I am just so gauche. Forgive me, was that a song by a girlfriend
beating, sadistic dentist on a motorcycle to a catchy Elvis tune
supposed to be funny? How about one pushing a grandma off a cliff to a
Lady GaGa tune? Do lyrics even matter anymore? Yes, another nice song
about, how because downtown is awful and dangerous, apparently we are
morally justified in doing just about anything to anybody? Ellen
Greene's voice sounds like the slow strangulation of a cat; I
understand it is supposed to provide moral justification for Martin
whaling on her but, no, believe it or not it is still wrong. What do
you expect from the man who featured the rape of a hot blond by a
lonely, giant maggot in Galaxy Of Terror? Can I say something? The more
of your movies I watch the more motion lights and weapons I am buying.
Who is our hero in this film: The pathetic, acne covered geek who could
not get action in a bordello? The girlfriend beating, sadistic dentist?
The greedy, cruel florist? See, if all of your characters are loathsome
swine, believe it or not, it makes your movie a pile of poop. What is
with the traveling chorus, is this Sophocles?
The movie is not bad; the movie is disturbing. I love when Miss Piggy
decides to spare Seymour from killing Martin; later, he feeds Mushnick
to the plant. We are treated to the shadows of him dismembering him in
the back alley. Look, Yoda, if you are going depraved on us try not to
P out OK? Crappy it is, run from the theater you should. What was the
point with Martin? The film is not funny; the movie is revolting and
repulsive. Some times being a philosopher here is such a task:
depravity set to catchy music is still depravity. Everyone in the
movie, including the cat screecher, is a loser or a depraved maniac.
Who gives a crap about any of them? I am supposed to sympathize with
Seymour? He is our hero? The murdering, acne covered dweeb?
Look, Oz sucks as a director, all of his pictures stink. After this, he
made Dirty Rotten Scoundrels which also was not funny. Young people,
this opened in the back of a ten theater multiplex, within two weeks
the movie was gone forever. My brother and I had never seen a new movie
open in that small of a theater; it is obvious that the manager had
screened it before the opening. It is not funny; it is fruity and
freaky. It bespeaks a mind desperately in need of high voltage
liberally applied to the cerebrum. Bill Murray makes a cameo as a
masochist seeking sexual satisfaction frequenting dentists like others
do bars. Bring the kids. If you like woman beating, dismemberment, cat
strangling singing, and mass murder; hey, this is the film for you.
Yes, when I saw his giant maggot ripping that woman's clothes off and
sliming her; then use your imagination, the first thought was he ought
to make a musical. What a genius!!