User Reviews

"The Big Sleaze" is a politically incorrect laugh fest that never tries to take itself too seriously. The plot revolves around a disgruntled scam artist whose one inspiration in life is to publish a kid's book. It is ironic that he is so interested in marketing to kids since he rips one off at the beginning of the film. What follows is a mishmash of unrealistic, but hysterical misadventures including run-in's with a Schwarzenegger sounding "rousler," a pair of gay Asian snuff film makers, a terrorist who wants to blow up Disneyland, and a bitchy ex-girlfriend. In some ways, the film reminded me very much of "The Hangover," but with a much lower budget. Some great animation work from Chad Kaplan appears intermittently throughout the film. The animation adds to the lunacy of the film as a whole. Probably the most memorable scene in the film for me involved the poop on the face moment stemming from an overly clogged toilet. Mickey Mouse disappearing into a sea of flames came in a close second. The gunfight at the end of the film was well done for a small budget film, but I found it amazing that so many "bad guys" don't know how to shoot straight. This film is a guilty pleasure. If you are easily offended, you will probably want to stay away from it.

Watching Michael Fredianelli's latest low-budget opus THE BIG SLEAZE is like being at the state fair and riding one of those old school roller coasters being run by a drunken carny. You feel scared and kind of dirty during the experience, but when it's over you want to get right back on. Writer/director Fredianelli casts himself as sleazy scamming slacker Chuck Peterson who, through a series of mistakes and misadventures, finds himself the suspect in a triple murder investigation, on the lam from gay Asian snuff filmmakers, and involved in a plot to blow up Disneyland. The film begins a bit slowly and the extended dialog in some scenes tend to bog down the early part of the film. But Fredianelli's caffeine-fed hopped up performance keeps you involved until the film starts to take on a life of its' own and the thrill ride really begins. The plot gets sillier, the characters get funnier, and the payoff is more than you could have ever hoped for.

This is an action comedy that throws the kitchen sink at the viewer. Some of it works and some of it doesn't, but it is worth taking the missteps to get to the comedic payloads that lie ahead. While some of the dialog is uninspired, much of it is laugh-out-loud funny. The action highlight is a riproariously funny shopping cart chase scene. The Disneyland scenes and the final shootout are inspired comedic genius. But the real joy of THE BIG SLEAZE is the cast of supporting characters that Chuck becomes involve with. Robert Amstler as European "rouster" Steve Harlow, Thomas Gallegos and the kid Kyle, and Henry Lee and Michael Nose as Asian gangsters are particularly noteworthy. Some of the soundtrack choices as well as the animation also have their moments to shine.

THE BIG SLEAZE is outrageously over the top and perverse. It may not be the perfect ride for all, but for many it will be a wild ride well worth taking.

Inspired lunacy from the demented brain pan that is Michael Fredianelli and Wild Dogs Productions. The familiar ensemble of weirdos--many of them refugees from the punishing yet curiously satisfying "The Minstrel Killer"--return here in a comedy so packed full of indecent elements, one blurb can hardly contain all of the depravity.

Chuck Peterson (Fredianelli) contributes his most intriguing performance, playing here a bipolar, bottom-feeding scam artist who endures the worst that Los Angeles has to offer: a trenchant bevy of flamboyant, Asian pornographers, assorted thugs, insensitive females, and bad actors. Being cornered into a terrorist plot to decimate Disneyland almost pales in comparison to Chuck Peterson's more human conflicts--or should I say less human than human conflicts?--like dealing with an effeminate, smirking children's artist, or one encounter with one horrendous, doo-doo-spattering toilet.

Most of the actors deliver their performances with proper emphasis on behavior, which is to say they play their characters straight with little sitcom smarm or Ellen DeGeneres mugging. Timothy Jahn's Burt Young-esquire scumbag, as well as Michael Martinez's "Hopeless Actor" are hilarious, with Martinez selling one breakdown scene as harrowing as it is truthful about the world's most flag-carrying poster children to low self-esteem: Los Angeles actors. A luckless parolee (Lisa Cortez) is equally memorable for her monologue with a poorly Foley'ed landlord and the horrifically violent death-by-coffee-table demise that follows. Not since "Omen II" have I experienced a screen death of such raw power. Unfortunately, some of the movie's lesser actors appear in scenes further hindered by a cutesy, Guy Ritchie sense of montage, plus they drag out their lines in the all-too-familiar Tarantino style of acting, which involves lots of annoying "street" dialect and absurd expressions.

Movie's visuals are mostly impressive except for some dodgy focus and irritating, wandering, hand-held camera-work. One slow-motion sequence of Peterson kicking the hell out of a fence (and later demonstrating the same on an unfortunate girl) looks positively David Lynch. Bad matching on locations is only a minor complaint, as anybody unfamiliar with the ugly, pea-green hills of San Jose will probably fail to notice their lack of resemblance to the smoggy lumps that make up the Hollywood mountainside. Groggy, gaseous, and often gastrointestinal original soundtrack by Aaron Stielstra packs plenty of funk to complement its more sinister synth melodies and dirges, though some songs seem to become smothered or aborted altogether to make way for the rest of the movie's contributors. But considering this includes dudes like Miles Davis, Roy Budd, and Bernard Hermann, the man is in excellent company. Plus, the movie features an appropriate amount of metal, as well. Rousing gunfight in a train-yard is undeniably slick, and a nice homage to James Van Bebber's "Deadbeat At Dawn". Still, despite being ridiculously violent, it is surprisingly lacking in catharsis. Maybe this is because Chuck Peterson comes across as a man far less capable of defeating an army of ethnic commandos than he is a dumbass who simply robs little children.

Nonetheless, there's a lot to recommend here, and the pacing during the film's solid moments of comedy and atrocity outweigh those featured in far too many commercial market comedies, ones that wouldn't dream of going as far as this movie does--regardless of the amount of discharge and graphic sex they offer. Actress Sabrina Machado is as beautiful and capable in her sadistic scenes of dressing down Peterson as she is in spewing copious fountains of blood. Chad Kaplan's animation is extremely stylish and amusing, with his opening credits sequence prompting one to ask: "Is it the visuals I find so breathtaking, or the metal? Or both?" And this is a dilemma no viewer is confronted by in today's mainstream comedies, let alone the "indie" ones, and especially not in yuppie-pandering hobo excreta like "He's Just Not That Into You". Disneyland finale is powerful

Infant horrible Michael Fredianelli's tale of a smalltime loser on the run from gay gangsters delivers on all fronts, yet remains slightly dissatisfying. Wearing his influences on his sleeve, there are nods to DePalma with an early split-screen, a Tarantino-y freeze-frame-and-caption – even an homage to Ryan O'Neal's infamous "worst scene in film history". But the story remains tonally epileptic, rumbling from light comedy to drama to slapstick to gross-out to ultra-violence to… I dunno what the hell it was. Though rooted in crime drama, there are wacky elements throughout, including the first on screen banana peel pratfall since the early 1920s complete with potato sack thud, and straight-up silliness like the shopping trolley chase scene. There are even some scatological chuckles to be plumbed from a scene set in a public toilet which features a stunt turd, kerb-stomping a lavatory and a faecal facial. And yet another of Fredianelli's signature "puke-kisses", the second time it has made a (literally) stomach-churning appearance in a Wild Dogs production. The film's later weird turn into anti-Disney propaganda and amusement park terrorism is also puzzling and feels abrupt. However, the fiery conflagration which ensues makes it all worthwhile. Effects in this scene rival Industrial Light And Magic's best work. Again, it's a bit jarring as lead character Chuck seemingly goes from freewheeling lovable dipshit to John Woo-ian 9mm madman during a gunfight at the railway tracks. It could be due to the fact he was wearing a leather jacket though. The trainyard shootout is super stuff, as run and gun fun becomes an insane bloodbath, with more sloppy plasma splashing about than in an Eli Roth wet dream as combatants get perforated with round after round. Final front-lawn beatdown is either cathartic hilarity or utterly repellent misogyny, depending on the viewer's mindset. Or perhaps it's a combination of both. And scoring the scene to an overplayed Journey track only serves to hammer home the brutality. The film's soundtrack lurches from classic Anthrax and Manowar to goofball jazz filched from dimestore clearance CDs to 200bpm Casio keyboard drumbeats, and composer Stielstra's retarded combinations thereof. These were no doubt mixed on a Fostex 4-track tapedeck in his Arizona studio toolshed, a process akin to audio alchemy. Also, there's some Michael Jackson playing whenever Michael Nosé is on screen. The cast are guilty of delivering excellent performances across the board. Sabrina Machado is utterly stunning. Robert Amstler amuses as a strangely gentle "rouster" who takes delight in belting Chuck with all manner of household objects. His Schwarzeneggeresque accent is also highly enjoyable for fans of the Austrian Oak. Mike Martinez supplies laughs as a terrible actor, and his tearful breakdown in the kitchen is truly Razzie-worthy thesping as I am sure he intended it to be. Vince Lopes Jr is hilarious as a stoner, the news report in particular is a delight as he stares vacantly into the camera. I have no idea who played the reporter in this scene, but at least he could have had the decency to shave for the role. He looked like a damn hobo. Crazy fun Chadrick Kaplan opening credits celebrate random acts of violence. And metal.

While not as good as the previous Wild Dogs flick ('The Minstrel Killer'), Michael Fredianelli's latest film does not disappoint. On the whole this comedy is highly entertaining and fast paced. The cinematography looks great for the most part and a variety of interesting locations (including Disneyland itself) are showcased throughout. Furthermore, the production is enhanced by some nicely utilized visual effects by Mike Martinez and some good original music by Aaron Stielstra and others. Additionally, the movie's editing and sound design (though mostly comprised of stock sound effects) also stand out as being particularly good.

Performances in the film are overall quite good. Fredianelli is great in the lead as is Robert Amstler ('Terminator 3', 'Hierarchy') as a fierce "freelance rouster". Actor Eddie Napolilo ('Frost/Nixon', 'The Aviator') also turns in a great performance as artist/police cadet Rick Adams (unfortunately though he is given only a small amount of screen time). In addition, many Wild Dogs regulars receive memorable cameo roles throughout while some new faces also grace the screen.

The film is great fun for its entire running time and is filled with a variety of great set pieces including a superb shootout, a shopping cart chase, and an explosive terrorist attack on Disneyland. On the negative side, the film turned out to be less funny than I had expected. Sure, there are many great/clever scenes, but nothing really stood out as being laugh-out-loud hilarious. The only other real complaints I have would be an ultra fake looking gunshot wound or two and the somewhat stupid and tacked on Obama bit at the end. The movie probably could have benefited from some more Stielstra tunes as well. The guy should be to Michael Fredianelli what Ennio Morricone was to Sergio Leone. While not quite a masterpiece, 'The Big Sleaze' is an extremely fun filled flick not to be missed.