One of those movies so terrible it takes on a certain kind of profundity, like really bad English when spoken with sincerity. Once you are able to cast aside acting, plot and style as irrelevant, you may find yourself beginning to narrow your vision, wondering if something truly deep and poetic is hiding under the swill. The fact the film looks like the premier video from your little brother's death metal garage-band, and reads with all the nuance and tact of a gonzo porn video now shooting just down the street from you, may be hard to gel with hidden epiphany, but then again maybe I was so poleaxed by how bad it was, a truly powerful message of religious glory was lost.
Heather is broke. She has a soul sucking job as a stripper. Her live-in girlfriend Victoria has a baby and a coke problem. Her boss Harry is an abusive maniac. Life cannot get much worse... or so she thought. Determined to get out of this living hell, Heather and her lover, Bunny, plan to rip off Harry, ditch Victoria, and leave town to live out their days on the Greek islands in peaceful bliss. One big score is all they need, and Harry gives them the opportunity when he asks them to take care of a drug deal with one of his clients at an old warehouse. As Heather and her friends arrive, everything seems to be going fine until they make a grizzly discovery and are trapped inside by a rambling, religious maniac hell-bent on purifying the Earth of its sins through murder and destruction. Armed with a carpenter's hammer and a fanatic passion, the Cross Bearer hunts Heather and her friends down one-by-one in a sadistic crusade to burn clean the filth of the world. Heather's dreams are ...
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June 19, 2016 at 9:32 AM