The low budget horror movie has a long and colourful history…hollywood big dogs like Peter Jackson and Sam Raimi are probably the most obvious examples of how throwing fake blood  and sheep entrails over your mates every weekend for a year and a half can ultimately end up in megabucks and mock-tudor mansions stuffed to the rafters with gold plated bidets and sex midgets. However, this doesn’t always happen. Most of these budgetless wonders are in fact bollocks…stark, cringe-inducing testaments to the fact that this movie-making business is a bit harder than it looks. For every 500 crappy homemade zombie movies you might get the occasional gem like The Incredibly Slow Murderer with the Extremely Inefficent Weapon or the second movie reviewed here today…but there is a lot of junk out there…and ZOMBIE CHRIST represents that teeming mess of talentless shite quite categorically.

ZOMBIE CHRIST is a good name for a 16 year old’s metal band. That’s the last time I’ll be using the word “good” in this review of a movie that’s just usurped BIRDEMIC as worst movie I’ve had the dubious pleasure of reviewing on here. The annoying thing is, this is a movie designed for that exact purpose..to be so bad it travels beyond the spectrum of mere critical analysis, goes through the other side and enters this strange lightless void where ineptness is feted and the inability to operate a camera is a cause for shite-juggling celebration.

Now, while I like many forms of bad movie, there needs to be some kind of effort and earnest if misguided dedication behind it. Crap like ZC… just a tedious waste of time perpetuated by smirking metalheads with such fear of ambition that they adopt a offensively lazy “don’t try…can’t fail” approach. Could have been amusing but it’s just achingly dull, and that’s a shocking criticism coming from me considering the amount of nudey women involved. The intro is pretty much nothing but  women in the nip. The story, well, God jnr has been resurrected by some druid as a manky skeleton and proceeds to lurch around sticking his boney finger up b-list Suicide Girl arses and raping nuns with a conveniently grown meaty knob. That sounds so much better than it actually is. It’s just amateurish, gimp-directed tat, made by spazpedial heavy metal fans for their malodorous chums.

On the other hand we have The Taint, which has more heart soul and, well, c**k than an army of flyblown zombiechrists. Obviously shot with a extremely limited microbudget, The Taint overcomes its monetary limits with hilariously icky special effects,  deranged script and cheesily brilliant soundtrack. The story – what there is of it…the movie is barely over an hour long – involved a strange chemical that gets into the water supply and turns men into ravening maniacs with giant pulsing knobs and femicidal tendencies.

The concept is a little similar to the Screwfly Solution except much more manic and ejaculatory. The only non-mental is the main character, played by the director/writer/composer as a stroke-afflicted Donnie Tourette who escapes an initial encounter with a scythe-wielding rape-scallion before teaming up with a feisty female and fighting back against the horny hordes.

It’s clumsy, immature, offensive in every conceivable way but it’s also actually funny and quite light-hearted considering it’s like a warped window into  Andrea Dworkin’s darkest nightmares. This is a movie where the makers, unlike Zombie Christ’s dribbling gibbons, actually put a hell of a lot of blood sweat and assorted other bodily fluids into it and reaped the rapey rewards.

Any movie featuring more genital carnage than a Bangkok GUM clinic and a title derived from a mysterious and little known area of a man’s geniscape gets extra props from me. Cool cover too.


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