In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. At some point after that is when he created Nightmare Weekend....fuck that bitch, truthfully, fuck that dude. Released by the crew at Troma (released by Troma, not made by Troma) this 1986 horror(?) film may be the cinema equivalent of herpes simplex 2. It's not so much because it's a "bad" movie as much as it is as absolutely senseless as the Marlon Waynes movie of the same name. Yeah I might actually eat razor blades later for referencing Senseless. Or I might just let the inevitable happen and let David Spade rape me to death. Either one. I know this one has made it on many "worst of lists," but fuck, it honestly needs to be burned to a shade darker than Ryan Dunn's lifeless corpse. I might even be missing vital information about this movie such as running out of money, change of directors or even utter incompetence; but none of that means a good God damn when none of the final footage could work in any situation or film. Well, maybe it could work if it was only used to torture Alex Delarge. A bit about the flickering stupidity that is Nightmare Weekend.
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| British VHS Cover |
Oh shit, is that a fucking hand puppet? First thing off eh? You're going to start your movie with a hand puppet using a computer to kill two biker youths? Not advised. I can tell there was no Kissenger available for this film. It's going to be a rough ride. Rougher than the ride Ryan Dunn made...ok, put out the torches. I get the hint. Now someone give me a fire extinguisher for my scrotum. You know who else could have used a fire extinguisher one night? Ok, shutting up now. The movie begins disorienting and never rescues itself from there on in. Apprently there is a mustachioed scientist who lives in a badass mansion with his super computer named Apache. He has an evil assistant (no shit, she looks like Martin Kove in a wig) who has invited a bunch of sorority sluts to his house to test his new computer program.
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| Cobra Kai!!! |
Why he lets these college broads into his house is beyond me. Plus, his daughter, who is of the same age but not freinds with the other girls(?), comes to visit and talk to her friend George. Yes George is the god damn hand puppet. No mention why George can move or talk on his own, but he sure has some great tech support skills as he can operate the house computer system. Her and George like to play Pole Position sometimes, which also controls surrounding vehicles. Yeah, I know your lost at this point but I am too. Just pretend you've snorted a whole ton of Molly and let it wash over you like an episode of Joanie Loves Chachi.
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| Hey! He's gotta hand under there! It's a hoax! |
The computer wiz has created a program that can turn watches into pinballs that blow loads in your mouth and do all sorts of that mind control business we've read about in Tea Party literature; the vomiting, the need to kill, and the need for health insurance plus liveable wage. The only true use for this technology is apparently turning dog food into Bohdai from Solarbabies and rendering Cujo into Benji. The cast of Slumber Party Massacre gets picked up in the house limo only to be detoured at the only functioning business in town, a bar that serves beer and soda. Robert Burke bangs...wait Robert fucking Burke!?! Well that's a new low in a career. I think I would have preferred to make my movie debut in porn than this trite shit. After entering the bar and meeting four dudes decked out in white like Boyz 2 Men, The Dust Devil bangs some random bar slut on top of a pinball machine to show his anger. What exactly is the movies obsession with pinballs? Was the director's mother Jodi Foster in The Accused?
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| I thought your ninjas took care of Robocop? |
The girls hook up with the Moody Blues and invite them to go to the mansion with them for the sheer purpose of sex. Man do I miss the 80's. People where willing to share all sorts of diseases with you. You could also easily pick up the female cast of Just One of the Guys with the simple addition of a Hardrock Zombies edition Jesse white one piece pant suit. Diamond Dave Lee Roth would be very proud. After a flat tire excuse fuck scene, all interested parties make it to the house, and so the real fun begins. Ok, that was one big lie, which I do a lot. It makes me feel like a big man, or movie producer. There's nothing fun about this movie. Nothing cute or interesting. It's about as cute as the Circle of Shit from Salo. Christ even the hand puppet seems more appealing at this point. Certainly a lot more animated than any of the rest of the cast. The movie gets more and more muddled as it progresses. The dad from Pet Sematary shows up (decked out all in white too might I add) to give the daughter in the story something to do. Sure, he's on a quest to find out what happened to his dead biker brother, but mainly just so the daughter has a subplot to follow as the teens in peril motif seems to not be working. People meander through this story going back an forth to BAR over and over again. Rejected cast members from The Prowler dance and romance these ladies through a full 40 minutes of screen time. It almost seems like a tv ad for 50 Great Romance Tunes for only $9.99...with Barry Manalow singing Mandy.
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| Featuring Christopher Cross-Arthur's Theme (The Best That You Can Do) |
Bored? God I hope so. I'm bored with writing this dreck. The movie is only interested in dudes trying (And I do mean trying as it takes them a god damn hour to get anywhere) to get laid and George the puppet doing his best "Danger Will Robinson" voice. This whole plot of an under cutting assistant trying to sell Magnum P.I.s computer program simply isn't working nor does it ever pay off. They tend to meander all over the place never allowing the audience to really get a grip on anything. All men in this thing are only interested in sex. Whether that character is merely trying to bang or is a rapist is up to wardrobe. Pretty much all the women are only interested in teasing men or being complete slam hounds. The only woman not interested in getting all holes filled, is the evil assistant....no wait I remember, she tried to bang the dad. The flaccid (much like Louis Creed here's acting) relationship plot of the daughter and biker in white is not enough to support a film. Shit, they don't even have any chemistry. The whole thing goes Chernobyl in the last 20 minutes with the explosion of Officer Murphy's face, the inclusion of melting mutant make-ups, some brief stalk and slash action and the only screen death due to panty sniffing in the history of film.
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| Sloth Love Chunk! |
This whole thing is a fucking disaster. Worse than that it's boring as...well...every Ron Howard movie ever. They never explain the purpose of any of this nor do they pay off any of the proceeding plot ideas. It just sits there like a turd in the middle of the table during your first Christmas dinner with your fiancee parents. It's like Mary in Last House on the Left. It just lays there and takes it. In summary I'd like to say that I'm very sorry that Troma studios is falling on hard times with the way the film business is these days, but Mary fuck the maker they almost deserve it for still making this particular film available for viewing at all. Put me out of my misery. Give me a pair of your panties, I wanna go kill myself.
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