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July 31, 2013

Movie Review: Predatory Instinct (2011)

David Hayes gave me a copy of this movie a couple of years ago but I forgot about it until I needed to find something to review. And as Abnormal Entertainment made this flick, I hope none of my musings offend any of my buds at AE or CHC.

Three young people get smooth talked into attending a party out in the fucking boondocks by the oh-so-dreamy Emmit. (Personally I think he talks too much and sounds like he was raised on Mark Twain and Machiavelli.) Randi's up for it because she a ho. Brandon is basically a male Randi. And Trish doesn't really want to go but she gets peer pressured into it. Ah, youth.

They drive down a dirt road for, like, ever, and Randi flips out at seeing....something. Though they've all been sneaking booze from the bar they work at since the afternoon so whatever. They finally arrive at the house party which in this movie means 6 attendees: our illustrious youngsters, Emmit, his tart, Lydia, and some random dude named Shea (sounds like HEY why didn't I STAY at home instead of coming to this LAME parTAY). I think they need a serious lesson from Kid n PLAY.

Emmit gets it on with Randi, after drugging her of course, then goes back to the party. As Lydia and Brandon get canoodling, Emmit starts philosophizing about morality (or lack there of) and eating meat and a bunch of other bullshit. Basically everything he's saying in his high falluting speechifying is tipping his hand - he's a bad guy, folks! If you hadn't figured that out already.

In the meantime, these psycho animalistic people are running around attacking anyone unlucky enough to cross their paths. They come back into the story later but they seem kinda of peripheral and their presence didn't really seem necessary (except for the glorious opening scene with my buds, David and Kevin - sorry, guys).

Brandon and Lydia start S&M'ing (because she ain’t married and even if she were, a ring don’t plug a hole - stay classy, Brandon) until things get out of control. And by out of control I mean painful bloody death. I guess Brandon forgot that the safe word was kumquat! But no need for the cops. Let's all sleep on it, since we're drunk and high, and we can have a more intelligent discussion in the morning. Um, okaaay

After some more sex and stalling about the cops, we find out Emmit's truth. About his and Lydia's penchant for terrible deeds and oh yeah, you two are going to join us or die. What are two college aged young people-about-town to do?

This was not a great film. The acting is marginal and the story is not particularly original. And I get that some characters have to be set up as cannon fodder (hint, Brandon and Randi, hint, hint, *cough* *they die* *coughcough*) but it would be nice if they were at least interesting before they got tucked in for the long dirt nap. I also didn't really understand the presence of the two animalistic people. Okay, Emmit's a morally deficient douche knocker. We didn't need them to settle that argument.

I did enjoy some of the film since I only tried to multitask twice during my viewing. I choose to believe that the character of Randi wasn’t just a stupid bimbo who couldn’t recognize when men were insinuating she’s a slut. I think she understood and just didn’t care because she OWNED her slut cred. She was the Whore Queen of Slutdom and proud. Doesn’t make her interesting, just a bit more likable.

The actor playing Shae, John Bingeheimer, improved with the movie. He started out a bit like wallpaper but definitely kept me interested in the action as the film progressed. By the end of the film, I honestly cried for him and his dilemma. I mean, I know I’m a weeper but I DON’T cry during B Hor...okay. Yes, I do. Shut up. I also realized John was in Death Factory which I loved...until the disc ate my DVD player.

Like I said the story is a bit tired and done but at least some of the movie kept me entertained. Editing was very well done. I never felt any awkwardness on the screen while the actors waited for the director to yell ‘cut’ or ‘action’ or ‘David, stop trying to plastic wrap the toilet as a practical joke’.

There’s just one thing I need to know: do all guys keep splooge rags in their cars? For what, masturbatory emergencies?? Classy, folks. Cla-ssy.

1.5 Hatchets (out of 5)

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