Drop dead - I don't do requests.

I am definitely (probably) not opening myself up to some sort of regular request slot; I can imagine getting stitched up with all sorts-of-straight to DVD nonsense, horrendous chick flicks and obscure foreign language films in which the plucky hero is oppressed by the State and finds solace in crafting miniature animals from food wrappers until they magically come alive to teach him that freedom is all in the mind as he's lead out to be shot behind the latrines for insubordination. Or something. All of which would likely result in me wanting to gouge my own eyeballs from my skull out of boredom and launch them at the screen. It seems however, that I may have been a touch remiss and in my haste failed to notice an obvious sitter. There's only so much rage I can pour out in one post; I flap my gums quite enough and nobody's here to read a novel. (Although I'm not saying that isn't on the horizon, but that shit is hard work man.) I try to keep my word count manageable and invariably I have to edit some things down. 

I was in the process of banging on about Rob Zombie's 31 a couple of weeks ago and in the midst of doing a sort of career retrospective I mentioned The Haunted World of El Superbeasto; a friend of mine politely pointed out that this horrible feature length animation probably merits a much more rounded and full diatribe than the cursory lambasting I gave it in passing. So because I am a man of my people (and because Mr. Monro was completely correct in what he said) today is inaugural (and probably only) snappily titled "You want it? You want it? Fucking have it!" Reader Request Post. 15 internet points if you can name the film that quote is from*.

Frankly, The Haunted World of El Superbeasto is horse shit. If I was being forced at gun-point to be polite about it as a film I would really struggle, but I might be able to go as far as "disappointing" without compromising my morals or the integrity of my skull. 

Plot wise, Dr. Satan (who is actually the high school nerd) needs to find and consummate his marriage to a woman with the mark of the Devil on her arse in order to gain all the Sexy Powers of Hell. El Superbeasto is a Mexican Wrestler and superhero who spends his entire time trying to hump anything with tits and whose adopted sister Suzie X is a spy fighting Nazi zombies with a transforming robot who is in love with her. Shakespeare this is not.  

It wants to be so many things, it just fails to live up to any of its aspirations. Chief amongst them is that Rob Zombie is absolutely, desperately, unwaveringly wants to be a cult icon. If you've even caught a glimpse of any of his artwork, music or movies, his obsession with horror B-movies is glaringly obvious and it's the foundation of almost everything he does. So it is with Superbeasto. It starts out with a grainy black and white intro warning us about how repulsive and terrifying the upcoming feature presentation might be (and to those with the constitution of a fainting goats, I'm sure it's both of those things) and shortly after this is where all my hope evaporated. It is immediately apparent that although the aim is retro and kitsch, the animation is just bad. Now, I understand how painstaking and drawn out (pun completely intended, bite me) making any feature length animated movie can be, but this is awful. It's probably supposed to look like a Saturday morning cartoon from the seventies, but it doesn't really pull it off. Maybe it isn't awful enough and they should have gone full Scooby Doo on it; everyone just standing stock still and occasionally moving their mouths while the same background rolls round on a loop behind them. All I'm saying is that if you're going to put the effort in to making an animated feature, maybe put some actual effort in? Considering Zombie's background and the artwork he's produced for his album covers, it just feels cheap and badly designed.

You might forgive the shoddy production values if they were mildly detracting from an otherwise gripping story, snappy dialogue and well-rounded characters. Good luck with that. This is a Rob Zombie movie, so of course there are Nazi Werewolves, strippers with pneumatic tits and foul mouths and a gorilla with artificially enhanced intelligence (which obviously gives him a British accent because reasons). It's tired and it's tiring. When there are wittier things written on public bathroom walls than the marquis jokes in your script then you're pretty likely to end up with problems. That's where Zombie's shtick is though; adolescent cock/pussy jokes (Murray the Go-bot reconfigures himself so his dick is either a cannon or a joystick and there is actual a scene where they literally run down a list of vagina euphemisms), over sexualized busty wenches (of course there's a half-naked cat fight, why wouldn't there be?) and saving the best for last a nice spot of slightly rapey bestiality. Don't get me wrong, I'm not some Puritan looking to rid the world of smut. There's nothing wrong with smut at all, but El Superbeasto plays out more like the pre-pubescent ramblings of an awkward teenage virgin than the carefully scripted cult cartoon masterpiece it wants to be. Fritz the Cat, this ain't.

None of it is shocking, surprising or even vaguely entertaining and therein lies the real problem. It's just a vanity project for Zombie and Tom Papa who co-botched the script and voiced El Superbeasto. I'm genuinely surprised the soundtrack isn't fully comprised of Zombie tunes but instead we're treated to a collection of faux 60s pastiches which desperately want to be Flight of the Conchords but are really just jangly shite with lyrics which simpy describe what's happening on screen. A bit like Audio Description for acid casualties, if you will. Frankly, switching off the audio would spare you a whole heap of hassle; mostly because you'd no longer be afflicted by Sheri Moon Zombie's shrill nasal twang. It's no massive surprise she's only ever worked in her husband's videos and movies but apparently she originally wanted a career in cartoon voice overs. You stick enough filters on it and she might pull off a half decent Starscream, but she probably should have stuck to go-go dancing. 

Honestly, I'm not looking for sympathy here. I bought the DVD and I should have known better; although not having a cinematic release is about as much of a mark of quality as winning an Oscar, it doesn't exactly bode well. To my credit, I have sat through this bilge at least twice so I can assure you it isn't a grower. Unless you're talking about fungus or a tumour, both of which are fairly adequate comparisons. 

*Internet Points redeemable only at participating outlets. Not to be used in conjunction with any other offer. Internet Points not actually a thing you schmuck.