Twenty years after vicious serial killer Karl the Butcher went on a grisly rampage his chip off the old block wacko son Karl Jr. decides to pick up where his deranged dad left off.
Writer/director Andreas Schnaas shows considerable signs of improvement as a filmmaker with this much better made sequel: We've got a more coherent, if still pretty slight, narrative, a faster pace, hilariously warped touches of sick humor, competent widescreen cinematography by Steve Aquilina, a hard-thrashing rock theme song, Karl Jr. enjoying a depraved and incestuous relationship with his hideous hag of a mother (Anke Prothmann in grotesque make-up), and funny outtakes at the end. Naturally, Schnaas certainly doesn't skimp on the gloriously ghastly and copious excessive over-the-top splatter and spurting blood: Amongst the disgusting delights to be relished herein are decapitations, one poor fat dude having fishhooks ripped into his testicles (ouch!), throat slashings, a vagina getting stapled shut, eviscerations, and a wild porn theater massacre set piece. Good demented fun.
Writer/director Andreas Schnaas shows considerable signs of improvement as a filmmaker with this much better made sequel: We've got a more coherent, if still pretty slight, narrative, a faster pace, hilariously warped touches of sick humor, competent widescreen cinematography by Steve Aquilina, a hard-thrashing rock theme song, Karl Jr. enjoying a depraved and incestuous relationship with his hideous hag of a mother (Anke Prothmann in grotesque make-up), and funny outtakes at the end. Naturally, Schnaas certainly doesn't skimp on the gloriously ghastly and copious excessive over-the-top splatter and spurting blood: Amongst the disgusting delights to be relished herein are decapitations, one poor fat dude having fishhooks ripped into his testicles (ouch!), throat slashings, a vagina getting stapled shut, eviscerations, and a wild porn theater massacre set piece. Good demented fun.