Driven to rage over the tawdry excesses of reality television, a self-appointed cultural crusader kidnaps several very famous nobodies to make his point- but his crimes only generate more tabloid frenzy.
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Driven to rage over the tawdry excesses of reality television, a self-appointed cultural crusader kidnaps several very famous nobodies to make his point- but his crimes only generate more tabloid frenzy.Written by
It's utter ineptitude is both stunning and disturbing
The promotional blurb for "LA Slasher" calls it a "biting, social satire of reality TV and the glorification of those who are famous for being famous."
Unfortunately this film is so poorly made, acted, cut, and designed as to render it a complete waste of time. It's such a train wreck, you can't possibly even decipher what's happening on screen for its 90 minute runtime, which seems like five hours, at least.
There is no real story. Basically an anonymous white-suited masked psycho (voiced by Andy Dick, no less, which doesn't exactly raise the credibility factor) targets and then systematically slaughters airhead Twitter-made celebrities. Not in itself a worthless concept. If "LA Slasher" were made with even borderline competence it could be a poisonously fun black comedy.
The real problem here lies in the script, which is incoherent. A good first third of the film is spent introducing a slew of forgettable, woodenly-acted victims, but no story arc really exists. When they're killed, there's no pay off since you don't care about them. And Dick's slasher is either sniggeringly annoying (and unfunny) or downright vile ("Die you f**kin bitch" and variations thereof are his and the screenwriters idea of witty repartee).
Let's talk about the technical aspects for a moment. Even the opening credits are so badly created that they are almost out of frame in the HD cut I watched. Some of the set designs range from dirty warehouse to scummy hotel room to someone's living room. Even the Heiress and the Socialite live in places that are so badly dressed they look as if they were shot in the back of an abandoned flea market storage warehouse. Mischa Barton is one of many actors who stand around looking vaguely comatose, not knowing their lines or not caring to know them.
All of this amounts to a very depressing, pointless pile of garbage that's ultimately as empty and spiritless as the "problems" the movie's title antagonist sets out to "solve." At one point there was a "detective" (see the credits here on IMDb) so it seems a dramatic arc of some sort was written and even filmed, but apparently this film's aim is to appear as dumb as the targets it poorly lampoons. The best thing for "LA Slasher" to do is off itself. So many people will thank it.
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