I love being a horror blogger but it’s times like these that I really love being a horror blogger. I get solicitations for screeners all the time and if you’re reading this and I’ve blown you off, please don’t take it personally. I just can’t watch them all and if I passed on giving your movie press I’m either way too busy with an already staggering review load or your pitch just wasn’t very tantalizing to penetrate the mountain of screeners that I have lined up for review. If you did, it’s because something about your movie made me take notice. I’d say that three out of every five solicitations I get is for some no-budget zombie-stomp shot on a dime in an Atlanta vacant lot by high schoolers and to you I say this: Give up. All the good zombie movies have already been made. I’m captivated by originality. I’ve been at this literally for years so to get my attention you have to be coming from a really novel place. It doesn’t have to be high brow, cerebral entertainment, either. Say your names are Drew Bolduc and Dan Nelson and you wanted to make a movie about exploding dicks in an apocalyptic world where all men want to kill all women. Well, it’s not exactly classy but you have my attention.
Your movie doesn’t even have to be good is what I’m getting at, I guess. As long as you make the sale with a strong pitch, I’m in and I’ll make time for your movie. I can’t guarantee a good review but also know this: If you send me your flick and I think it’ll receive a bad review, rest assured that I’m not going to write about it. If you’re some indie out there trying to get your movie seen, the last thing you need is some asshole with a blog telling people that they shouldn’t bother. You probably spent a lot of your own money on that project and put a ton of energy into it. At the end of the day, making movies is fun. Trust me, I’ve done it. I had a blast. But you want people to watch it and if it looks like I’m going to shit all over it, I’ll save you the trouble of pissing on your project that you invested so much of your life into. I don’t know if this is a good position take as a writer but I feel much better about myself giving bad low-budget flicks no press instead of bad press. Since we’re sitting here reading about The Taint, though, I guess it’s safe to assume that it’s pretty good, right?
Yep. It’s the end of the world. A tainted water supply has turned men everywhere into raging, murderous misogynists with huge boners that their pants can no longer contain. The only sane male survivor in this world gone mad is Phil O’Ginny, a skateboarding high school slacker with a ridiculous blond mullet and two pairs of blu blocker sunglasses to wear, depending on his mood. Phil, armed with only a .357, wanders what’s left of the world looking for a clean source of water to drink when he hooks up with Misandra, a hardcore chick with a shotgun and survival skills. Together they dodge waves of crazed killers, witness numerous head smashings and get covered in blood and jizz repeatedly while looking for salvation. Their travels eventually lead them into confrontations with Phil’s former aggro gym teacher turned enthusiastic gang-rapist and a masked lunatic who may know how all this violence began.
Where the hell do I even begin? I feel like an ass trying to discuss the critical points of a movie that contains a workout montage and a montage of exploding dicks but The Taint is great! It doesn’t seem to have a point and that may account for why it’s a winner. Every now and then I feel like watching something retarded and this flick scratched that itch and then some. Nothing in The Taint ever seems to make sense and the humor is an angular attack on your senses that hits the spots in your brain that understand what is so precisely funny about a guy having his penis torn off by hand. Everything about this movie is a bad idea constructed specifically to offend someone and it succeeds in every single way possible. It’s this quality that calls a lot of people to draw comparisons to John Waters as the spirit of Pink Flamingos is alive in The Taint. No one eats dog shit, though. Yes, The Taint has it all. Every kill scene is perpetrated by a crazed man smashing a woman’s head in with a rock while a giant dildo protruding from his pants sprays fake jism everywhere. If any of those scenes don’t get you, maybe the occasional homophobic remark or the coat hanger abortion will. It’s not necessarily mean-spirited, either. The whole thing seems to be gleefully traipsing through every taboo possible, high on its own apparent lack of morality.
As genre film buffs in an age of declining costs of filmmaking, a networked world that makes all media around the world available to all at all times tends to attack us with a rapidly escalating ante in terms of what we can watch on the fringes of pop culture. It’s easy to become jaded because every couple of weeks there’s a new release out there that pushes the boundary of acceptability on film. Twenty years ago finding a movie that featured someone’s intestines on the outside of their body was something reserved for the genuinely deviant entries on the video store shelf. Nowadays, innards are routinely a part of your average Walking Dead broadcast. In order to maintain perspective we need a real shock to the system and those pictures hit us a couple of times a year but they’re usually so menacing and unpleasant that there’s no point in watching them beyond the obvious challenges to your endurance. The Taint makes that enduro-rally fun again with a sloppy script that seems as though its writers don’t give a shit if you like it or not. The entire cast is laconic, seemingly aware of the high silly factor at work. What really stands out about The Taint, though, is a series of excellent special effects. A bunch of guys making a movie for no money somehow managed to make some seriously nasty gore gags work in hilarious fashion and tying the entire package up is a fantastic soundtrack loaded with keyboard washes, cock rock and new wave.
Honestly, if any of this sounds remotely tantalizing, you have no reason not to see The Taint.