TDC is a movie that shows refreshing honesty by admitting to its own incompetence half an hour before the end, but then berates the viewer for wanting to watch the film in the first place!
The movie begins with the narrator - the "berater" - looking rather gloomy and depressed, in a dark room, apparently the victim of evil forces (and in-breeding, but that's another story), a story which he is about to convey. The snag is that he will LIE to the viewer for the next 90 minutes, until he finally 'fesses up to his own killing spree, but not before hassling the viewer for being a fan of splatter horror films. (Apparently, the writer/director Mason is a staunch proponent of NOT practicing what you preach.)
West (the berater) does a bit of a Jason Statham impersonation, through the narration mainly. He even looks somewhat like a watered-down version of Statham, sort of if we took the original Statham, compressed him, starved him, and prevented him from working out for a year. The narrator is also a pause-fetishist. He keeps stopping i.e. pausing the projection in order to tell us things, not trusting our ability to watch and listen simultaneously (sort of like Mason can't chew gum and walk at the same time). So huge is the influence of the berater/liar on the director that Mason stops the movie every time the narrator wishes it. Now that's what I call intimidation.
The berater's narration, which starts off decently, gets increasingly silly. One example is when he jokes about how he easily he got Rachel to take her clothes off, while they're both sitting in Hell, drenched in blood. It is at this point, at the latest, that TDC loses any viewers that were still taking any of this half-seriously (provided the viewer in question had a semblance of taste). Then, just minutes later, he goes into a soon-to-be legendary brief rant in which he actually trashes the movie, then turns against us, the viewers, almost as if blaming US for the film-makers' ineptitude. Yeah, that's right, Jason clone, blame the viewer that you guys couldn't put together a solid horror film without resorting to moronic characters and cretinous plot-twists.
The plot-twist being that he had been lying to us all along. He IS the killer. There is no demon. It's all been made up. Nye-nye nye-nye nyeh nyeh. What an ingeniously written script. How difficult it must be to lie to the viewers. I guess hardly anyone can do that! Must take enormous talent to provide false information for 90 minutes. The director reminds me of a 5 year-old kid who'd been lying to his pal and then admits to it much later, shouting "ha! gotcha!". (That's where the nye-nyeh nyeh-nyeh comes in, if you hadn't guessed it.)
And what a moronic ending, one that has absolutely no meaning whatsoever. We have been lied to by the narrator (i.e. the writer/director) because suddenly this switches from supernatural demon-horror to insane serial-killer on-the-loose butcher-rama. Why make an effort to write a clever screenplay with intelligent plot-twists when you can simply cheat the viewer from the first minute onwards and then bombard him with nonsense in the last minutes, hoping to turn this Z-movie crap into a talked-about cult item. Keep dreaming, Mason.
Yes, Mason, a Z-movie. You referred to it as a B-movie in one your rants, but I guess you over-estimated your little horroric turd a tad. The only message I can take away from this poorly executed joke of a movie is to never trust the narration again.
Oh yeah. And to never again watch a movie made by this incompetent clown.
The blond actress playing Rachel is beautiful. The only positive aspect to this big fat mess.
The movie begins with the narrator - the "berater" - looking rather gloomy and depressed, in a dark room, apparently the victim of evil forces (and in-breeding, but that's another story), a story which he is about to convey. The snag is that he will LIE to the viewer for the next 90 minutes, until he finally 'fesses up to his own killing spree, but not before hassling the viewer for being a fan of splatter horror films. (Apparently, the writer/director Mason is a staunch proponent of NOT practicing what you preach.)
West (the berater) does a bit of a Jason Statham impersonation, through the narration mainly. He even looks somewhat like a watered-down version of Statham, sort of if we took the original Statham, compressed him, starved him, and prevented him from working out for a year. The narrator is also a pause-fetishist. He keeps stopping i.e. pausing the projection in order to tell us things, not trusting our ability to watch and listen simultaneously (sort of like Mason can't chew gum and walk at the same time). So huge is the influence of the berater/liar on the director that Mason stops the movie every time the narrator wishes it. Now that's what I call intimidation.
The berater's narration, which starts off decently, gets increasingly silly. One example is when he jokes about how he easily he got Rachel to take her clothes off, while they're both sitting in Hell, drenched in blood. It is at this point, at the latest, that TDC loses any viewers that were still taking any of this half-seriously (provided the viewer in question had a semblance of taste). Then, just minutes later, he goes into a soon-to-be legendary brief rant in which he actually trashes the movie, then turns against us, the viewers, almost as if blaming US for the film-makers' ineptitude. Yeah, that's right, Jason clone, blame the viewer that you guys couldn't put together a solid horror film without resorting to moronic characters and cretinous plot-twists.
The plot-twist being that he had been lying to us all along. He IS the killer. There is no demon. It's all been made up. Nye-nye nye-nye nyeh nyeh. What an ingeniously written script. How difficult it must be to lie to the viewers. I guess hardly anyone can do that! Must take enormous talent to provide false information for 90 minutes. The director reminds me of a 5 year-old kid who'd been lying to his pal and then admits to it much later, shouting "ha! gotcha!". (That's where the nye-nyeh nyeh-nyeh comes in, if you hadn't guessed it.)
And what a moronic ending, one that has absolutely no meaning whatsoever. We have been lied to by the narrator (i.e. the writer/director) because suddenly this switches from supernatural demon-horror to insane serial-killer on-the-loose butcher-rama. Why make an effort to write a clever screenplay with intelligent plot-twists when you can simply cheat the viewer from the first minute onwards and then bombard him with nonsense in the last minutes, hoping to turn this Z-movie crap into a talked-about cult item. Keep dreaming, Mason.
Yes, Mason, a Z-movie. You referred to it as a B-movie in one your rants, but I guess you over-estimated your little horroric turd a tad. The only message I can take away from this poorly executed joke of a movie is to never trust the narration again.
Oh yeah. And to never again watch a movie made by this incompetent clown.
The blond actress playing Rachel is beautiful. The only positive aspect to this big fat mess.