When you see a violence-heavy and logic-light film like "Blood Shed", there's only three ways to react to it.
A) "It's purely exploitative entertainment." B) "It's a satire too high in concept for me to get." C) "It's just a plain bad movie."
Sadly, "Blood Shed" is neither entertaining nor intelligently artful. Instead, it's just a fifteen-minute hodgepodge of gunshot wounds, decapitations, hideous topless strippers, and geysers of red corn syrup, all haphazardly wrapped in a "it was all just a story" sheet of tissue paper. Drawn-out shots of latex being chainsawed and paint splattering try their worst to cover up the total lack of decent writing or purposeful plot. The only marginally redeeming aspect of this short was a French-speaking puppet version of Norman Bates' mother, but even that got old after her third appearance.
A) "It's purely exploitative entertainment." B) "It's a satire too high in concept for me to get." C) "It's just a plain bad movie."
Sadly, "Blood Shed" is neither entertaining nor intelligently artful. Instead, it's just a fifteen-minute hodgepodge of gunshot wounds, decapitations, hideous topless strippers, and geysers of red corn syrup, all haphazardly wrapped in a "it was all just a story" sheet of tissue paper. Drawn-out shots of latex being chainsawed and paint splattering try their worst to cover up the total lack of decent writing or purposeful plot. The only marginally redeeming aspect of this short was a French-speaking puppet version of Norman Bates' mother, but even that got old after her third appearance.
