I had the not-so-pleasurable experience of seeing Scavenger Killers at the premiere of the 2013 Hoboken Film Festival last week. For a bit of background, the festival prides itself on bringing the most "cutting edge" films that Hollywood is "too afraid to show" to the silver screen. I can tell you with certainty that the reason Hollywood would never show a film like Scavenger Killers isn't because it is too "cutting edge". It's because it sucks.
In short, the film is about a prosecuting attorney (played by Rachael Robbins)and a judge (Robert Bogue) who, for an unspecified reason, decide to kill people by choosing random slips of paper from a bag. This is about as much sense that can be gathered from this incoherent plot that also involves Eric Roberts as Agent Guthro (who phones all of his lines in from a presumably remote and unspecified location) and Dustin Diamond as some sort of "psychic" agent who also has tourettes. The entire movie is as tasteless as it sounds and is as equally entertaining (that is to say, not at all).
I place most of the blame for this on the creator of the festival and writer of the film, Ken Del Vecchio himself. He wrote the story along with the "star" Rachael Robbins and the result is as atrocious as you would expect a film co-written by a Playboy Playmate (Robbins, not Del Vecchio) to be. Del Vecchio's character in particular is a shining example of what this dynamic duo are capable of concocting when locked in a room together long enough. He plays the wheelchair ridden, mute Special Agent Truman who communicates through grunts and an abbreviated form of sign language that serves as the brunt of more predictable or vulgar sex jokes than should legally be allowed.
The strangest thing is, the direction of the film itself has the barest semblances of competence, and it's a shame to see director Dylan Bank restrict his expressiveness to a few interesting shots that could have made the film more enjoyable had he pushed these ideas further. Jerking zooms and point-of-view murder weapons are the basis for creating a fun, campy movie that's a blast to watch (see: Evil Dead or From Dusk Till Dawn) but what little techniques Bank does employ are ruined by downright terrible writing and mediocre to sub-par acting. (Don't be fooled by seeing a few names like Charles Durning, Robert Loggia and Eric Roberts on the bill, their accumulated screen time amounts to little more than two minutes at most.)
The movie appears to be torn in quite a few directions, and here lies the problem with Scavenger Killers and all Del Vecchio films. The film isn't fun enough to pass off as a campy/horror romp, nor is it serious enough to pass off as a straight up body horror film that serves to gross the audience out. The film instead lies somewhere in that no man's zone of being just plain awful. He didn't push the comedy angle, nor was he trying to create a great film that fell flat and as a side effect becomes hilarious (See: all of Edward D. Wood Jr.'s films). You can't help but feel like Del Vecchio and company are making a film just to provoke a reaction, but offer very little substance in return. By the time the fourth sex scene and second murder had rolled around, the theater was half empty.
I could write a dissertation on everything wrong with this film, but frankly it's not worth the time. Do yourselves a favor and avoid this film, even out of morbid curiosity. There are plenty other B-movies that are way more entertaining to watch.
In short, the film is about a prosecuting attorney (played by Rachael Robbins)and a judge (Robert Bogue) who, for an unspecified reason, decide to kill people by choosing random slips of paper from a bag. This is about as much sense that can be gathered from this incoherent plot that also involves Eric Roberts as Agent Guthro (who phones all of his lines in from a presumably remote and unspecified location) and Dustin Diamond as some sort of "psychic" agent who also has tourettes. The entire movie is as tasteless as it sounds and is as equally entertaining (that is to say, not at all).
I place most of the blame for this on the creator of the festival and writer of the film, Ken Del Vecchio himself. He wrote the story along with the "star" Rachael Robbins and the result is as atrocious as you would expect a film co-written by a Playboy Playmate (Robbins, not Del Vecchio) to be. Del Vecchio's character in particular is a shining example of what this dynamic duo are capable of concocting when locked in a room together long enough. He plays the wheelchair ridden, mute Special Agent Truman who communicates through grunts and an abbreviated form of sign language that serves as the brunt of more predictable or vulgar sex jokes than should legally be allowed.
The strangest thing is, the direction of the film itself has the barest semblances of competence, and it's a shame to see director Dylan Bank restrict his expressiveness to a few interesting shots that could have made the film more enjoyable had he pushed these ideas further. Jerking zooms and point-of-view murder weapons are the basis for creating a fun, campy movie that's a blast to watch (see: Evil Dead or From Dusk Till Dawn) but what little techniques Bank does employ are ruined by downright terrible writing and mediocre to sub-par acting. (Don't be fooled by seeing a few names like Charles Durning, Robert Loggia and Eric Roberts on the bill, their accumulated screen time amounts to little more than two minutes at most.)
The movie appears to be torn in quite a few directions, and here lies the problem with Scavenger Killers and all Del Vecchio films. The film isn't fun enough to pass off as a campy/horror romp, nor is it serious enough to pass off as a straight up body horror film that serves to gross the audience out. The film instead lies somewhere in that no man's zone of being just plain awful. He didn't push the comedy angle, nor was he trying to create a great film that fell flat and as a side effect becomes hilarious (See: all of Edward D. Wood Jr.'s films). You can't help but feel like Del Vecchio and company are making a film just to provoke a reaction, but offer very little substance in return. By the time the fourth sex scene and second murder had rolled around, the theater was half empty.
I could write a dissertation on everything wrong with this film, but frankly it's not worth the time. Do yourselves a favor and avoid this film, even out of morbid curiosity. There are plenty other B-movies that are way more entertaining to watch.