HEY, KNOW WHAT'S A REAL MOVIE?

REVIEW: CARL PANZRAM: THE SPIRIT OF HATRED AND VENGEANCE

In this older post, I discussed the memoirs of a man named Carl Panzram. For those not familiar, he was a sociopathic killer from the early 1900s who spent most of his life either in reformatories or prisons. His non-institutional exploits took him all over the world, and he claimed responsibility for over twenty murders, as well as robberies, rapes, assaults, arsons, and over one thousand acts of male sodomy. While incarcerated, he began writing down his life story, including every (or nearly every) crime he ever committed. What resulted from those was an extremely valuable and insightful memoir, which should be required reading for students of true crime, psychology, and sociology; it’s the most openly intimate account of a killer's life in existence. And not only does Panzram spare no details of his crimes, he laments the fact that he is a product of society, and of an abusive and dismissive upbringing. Within the pages of his memoirs, he is telling you, me, and society itself, how to avoid bringing about another Carl Panzram. It’s one of the reasons it remains a dark but celebrated piece of material, even as it nears 100 years old. To read the book yourself is to know that Panzram isn’t trying to pass the buck, and he’s not trying to gain your sympathy. Because simply put: Fuck you. He’d kill you if you were in front of him, because he knows that if you were reared in the same society as him, you’re not worth a damn. Panzram never declined responsibility for his crimes, and he, by his own admission, never had a desire to reform himself. All he really wanted was to teach society a lesson – one they’d never forget.

His most famous quote remains:

In my lifetime I have murdered 21 human beings, I have committed thousands of burglaries, robberies, larcenies, arsons and, last but not least, I have committed sodomy on more than 1,000 male human beings. For all these things I am not in the least bit sorry.

Enter documentarian/filmmaker John Borowski. Previously responsible for documentaries on other early 20th century serial killers H.H. Holmes and Albert Fish, Carl Panzram: The Spirit of Hatred and Vengeance explores the titular killer utilizing interviews with those who have studied the man, his crimes, and even one particular man who knew him perhaps the best of anyone: Henry Lesser.

Lesser, at the time, was a young and idealistic prison guard in a Washington, DC prison where Panzram was remanded at that time. He was also the catalyst for what can be described as Panzram’s reputation as a cult figure. It was at Lesser’s urging that Panzram put pencil to paper (sneakily passed to Panzram’s cell in small increments, as such materials were considered contraband) to tell his life story. The few pages at a time Panzram wrote were soon assembled into a manuscript that would then take forty years to see publication, as most publishers simply did not want to be associated with the material.

Lesser, in an archival interview from the 1980s performed by San Diego State University, is one of the several experts to contribute to Borowski’s documentary. Additionally, the documentary utilizes Panzram’s original handwritten documents, which Lesser had kept in his possession for years before donating them to San Diego State University, as well as prison photographs, a handful of items used in Panzram’s execution, and modern-day footage of the places where Panzram lived, murdered, and died.

A five year odyssey that began as far back as 2007 has resulted in a fantastic and comprehensive documentary on one of the most hardened men who may have ever lived. Borowski crams as much essential information into this documentary as possible, and it never fails to be interesting. His assembly of interviewees with different backgrounds and pedigrees bring a wide range of perspectives and insights on a man whom I can only assume never dreamed he would still be a topic of conversation more than eighty years after his death.

In what may be the wisest decision made on the part of the documentary, Borowski obtained the participation of John Di Maggio, who has worked as a voice actor for the last 25 years (most famously voicing Bender in "Futurama" and a few other robots in the newer Transformers projects).  His incredibly raspy, Lance-Henriksen-sounding voice brings the perfect timbre to Panzram’s memoirs. His words come to life, and when recited with unrestrained anger, make them much more powerful.

Speaking of Panzram's words, the choice to forgo using a more traditional narrator was vetoed in favor of using text lifted directly from Panzram's memoir, retaining that first-person perspective. Because of this, his presence is consistently felt from the first minute until the last. Using Di Maggio’s voice over, Borowski weaves a tapestry of photographs, interviews, and reenactments to construct a truncated version of Pangram’s life story. The more significant and even anecdotal bits of Panzram’s past (he once robbed William Howard Taft!) are included here, as are the more vicious excerpts from Panzram’s memoirs.

Borowski is also objective enough to allow his interviewees to contradict each other: One interviewee emphatically states that a child raised in a loving and nurturing home would grow up to be a loving and nurturing adult (which he prefixes with “fact”) – ergo, Panzram's claims of the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father and other siblings leading him to his murderous life are valid – while another interviewee claims that it wasn’t this abuse, but any number of reasons including possible brain damage, or simply being born that way, that caused Panzram to commit the crimes he did, even stating that Panzram's other siblings all growing up to become productive members of society. Further, this same interviewee alleges perhaps the most interesting question raised in the documentary: Did Carl Panzram really commit every crime to which he laid claim? Did he really burn down juvenile detention centers where he was remanded, or kill over twenty people, or commit 1,000 acts of sodomy? Did he really smash in the heads of children with rocks, or kill men and feed their carcases to alligators? She asserts that contradictions arise from his writing, and Panzram’s own delusions of grandeur are clear signs he is building himself up into something more murderous and virtueless than he actually was. This claim is based on the idea that a serial killer’s main thrill is to feel powerful—so what better way to feel powerful then by tacking on dozens of murders and hundreds of crimes, knowing that his history of using aliases when being arrested would make his past near-impossible to trace?

One thing is definitely for certain: His last will and testament really did bequeath his "carcass" to a dog catcher in Minnesota – to provide meat for the dogs – as well as a curse to all of mankind.

My only real point of contention with the documentary is the use of reenactments. To me they seemed erroneous, and at times even distracting. For a few sequences, the on-screen reenactment actor playing Panzram would exchange dialogue with another “character,” over which Di Maggio’s voice work would be dubbed. In a few instances, this works just fine, but in others, it doesn’t. Other scenes reenacted come across as rather hammy, including a quick silhouette shot of one of the many acts of sodomy to which Panzram alleged. These reenactments are akin to something you would see on the History Channel (maybe not the sodomy), and in some cases aren't even quite as effective.

But calling out the inclusion of these reenactments feels like sour grapes, as they’re a cosmetic complaint at best; the documentary presents a lot of valuable information and brings new insights to this fascinating man and is barely hampered by these narrative scenes.

If you're intrigued by this dark individual – if you’ve read the book and even seen the movie – I don’t think I have to tell you that this documentary is essential viewing.

Copies of Carl Panzram: The Spirit of Hatred and Vengeance are available only through John Borowski’s website, and the first one thousand units sold will be limited editions featuring the filmmaker’s autograph as well as postcards of Panzram’s mug shot and signature.

BECOME WRATH

"I don't think you're quitting because you believe these things you say. I don't. I think you want to believe them, because you're quitting. And you want me to agree with you, and you want me to say, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're right. It's all fucked up. It's a fucking mess. We should all go live in a fucking log cabin." But I won't. I don't agree with you. I do not. I can't."

If we don't, remember me.

CANDIDNESS

"This world would be a damned fine place if man were off it."

TEOS RECOMMENDS: KILLING THEM SOFTLY

Did you see Killing Them Softly this weekend?

Based on the box office reports, you didn't. Nor do you know anyone who did.

You really should, though – so long as you know what you're in for.

Something I find myself saying more and more in my reviews/examinations of films is, “This film is not for everyone.” I suppose that could be said about every film, really. More and more people say The Godfather is the greatest film of all time, but that doesn’t mean everyone out there likes it – hence, The Godfather is not for everyone.

But it really, really applies when I say that Killing Them Softy (based on the book Cogan's Trade by George V. Higgins) is not for everyone. What is being sold as an action/thriller with Brad Pitt as a leather-jacket-clad hit-man is really not that at all. What the film most certainly is…is angry.

To sum up, two low-level hoods knock off a card game overseen by Markie (Ray Liotta). Jackie Cogan (Brad Pitt) is brought in to knock off the two hoods as well as the mastermind behind the scheme.

Does this actually happen? I can’t really say, but that’s not the point. What, on the surface, looks like a gritty revenge suspenseful-thriller is actually a very angry film about the economy, and the government’s handling of the bail out, and how, basically, those at the top responsible for his whole mess walked away from the affair unscathed. Some reviews have labeled the film as anti-Obama, and while I can see how that thought might be raised, I would disagree. I suppose the film would have to be anti-Obama in some unavoidable respects, being as how he is a part of the political machine, and he was one of those who signed-off on the bail out. But really, the film is anti-government. It’s anti-bullshit. And it’s very much anti-pretending that we’re all one community of people who care for each other, because our society proves again and again that we’re not. In the aftermath of Hurricanes Katrina and Sandy, and much earlier, 9/11, yes, our community got together and saved lives and helped people and even dug out rubble. We donated money and goods and we all felt really good about ourselves. But the things that divide us on a daily basis – politics, religion, incomes – crept back up to make us remember why it is we simply can’t get along with others.

Really what you have in Killing Them Softy is a message that’s simple: If somebody steals your money, you fucking kill them. Forget about due process, because something as massive and deludedly infallible as the government has proven it doesn’t have the honor and sack it takes to fix the problem. This is eye for an eye revisited.

Killing Them Softly comes from Andrew Dominik, screenwriter/director of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (also starring Brad Pitt) – another film from Dominik’s body of work that I absolutely adore, which is another of his films that did not find the kind of success or attention it deserved. Dominik took the story of one of America’s most beloved outlaws, removed all the glamour and gimmick and godliness that’s been attached to him over the years, and instead presented you with a broken-down man, surrounded by family and friends, but ultimately alone. His life of crime left him constantly wanted by the law and constantly on the run, and he was left in a place where there wasn’t a single soul he could trust.

Killing Them Softly is incredibly well-acted, with James Gandolfini’s aging hit-man, Mickey, having all the best lines, while Scoot McNairy (of the incredible Monsters) gets to be a part of the most effective and suspenseful scenes in the film, including the robbery that starts this whole mess.

Don't expect non-stop violence (though the film is violent) and action set-pieces. What you can expect is a lot of anger towards our leaders and towards our society. What you can expect is a reflection on life – our own specific lives, as well as the one we share as a community. And you can expect to leave the theater with a wry smile on your face, knowing that it took a bunch of Boston hoods and hit-men to be more openly honest about what is they want, what they’re willing to do to get it, and to what means those affected will resort in order to get it all back—and that’s more than you can say for those allegedly looking out for the American people.

Plus, it's actually pretty funny.

BUY ME THIS: SKULL SHOT GLASS

Your booze of choice forms the shape of the skull. How do you not want this?

You there, reader - I'll take a set.

SHITTY FLICKS: INVASION OF THE BLOOD FARMERS

Shitty Flicks is an ongoing column that celebrates the most hilariously incompetent, amusingly pedestrian, and mind-bogglingly stupid movies ever made by people with a bit of money, some prior porn-directing experience, and no clue whatsoever. It is here you will find unrestrained joy in movies meant to terrify and thrill, but instead poke at your funny bone with their weird, mutant camp-girl penis.

WARNING: I tend to give away major plot points and twist endings in my reviews because, whatever. Shut up.

Invasion of the Blood Farmers opens with a fascinating monologue about demons that roamed around the country thousands of years ago. Oh, and something about blood sacrifices. And the screen is red, so you know the narrator means business.

We immediately cut to terror. A bloodied man stumbles down a country road. You can tell he’s in pain because he shrieks.

Not too far down the road sits a bar full of good-old-boys, cracking jokes about people we don’t know as we are inundated with odd close-ups of the patrons, badly angled and distractingly timed. The bartender asks a man if his wife has turned up yet (see, cuz she’s missing), but the very unworried husband waves away the bartender’s concern. Then someone else asks where Jim Carrey has been. For serious.

Before anyone can answer, the bloodied-shirt man (Jim Carrey!) stumbles into the bar, wagging his tongue around (just like the Jim Carrey we love!) before collapsing into a weird heap. The good-old-boys, not knowing what to do, make appropriate “yucky!” faces.

We then meet two new characters lying next to a river (which we hear, but never see). They are Don and Jenny. Their awkward '70s fashions are no match for their atrocious dialogue.

"Let me put it in your stinker once, Jenny. Don't be so greedy."

“There are some things you can’t learn in a school!” says Jenny, as Don defends his decision to attend pathology school, which I guess severely hinders their relationship. Don also states how brilliant of a pathologist Jenny’s father is and why he wants to work with him. Jenny asks about marriage, the suffocating bint that she is. Don responds by groping her highly-socked leg as generic library music fills the scene. Then they awkwardly bend to kiss...

...But no time for that, as we meet yet another lovely couple! Victim Girl and Blood Farmer # 1. Blood Farmer # 1 has inserted a tube into Victim Girl and is draining the blood from her body. And we can tell because of the sucking noises provided by the wonderful sound design. Blood Farmer is also inexplicably wearing a black Klansmen hood, its pointy cone shape a marvel of bigoted beauty. Who knows why, really, but it doesn’t matter. He’s sucking blood from a girl using a cow-milking machine. Is it really worse if he hates black people?

Jenny and Don momentarily race before falling to the ground, with Don awkwardly attempting to show intimacy with Jenny as he literally rubs her denim dress-covered stomach. Don then somberly talks of Jim Carrey, who invaded the bar, disgusted a bunch of drunks, and then fell on his face, without ever singing amusingly out of his asshole. Not once, but twice we are greeted with quick cuts to Jim Carrey laying face down on the floor as Don talks of finding him and how it has affected his life. A strangely utilized frying bacon sound is used to complement each cut back to Jim Carrey for unknown reasons.

It’s at this point that we meet the greatest man in the whole world: Dr. Roy Anderson, played with a currently unmatched amount of enthusiasm by the great Norman Kelley, a theater actor who over-annunciates and shouts every line he has in the film. “Where have you two been?!” he explodes. “Never mind! Come to the lab! Yoooooou won’t believe what’s HAPPENING!” Despite this invitation being directed to both Jenny and Don, only the latter follows, which is fine with me, because the less characters in a scene means the more opportunities for Dr. Roy Anderson to talk dynamically about scientific things, really excited to be in a feature film!

Dr. Anderson shows Don the samples of blood that were taken from Jim Carrey. Don is astonished to see that the amount of blood has increased by itself, now taking up half a beaker. Why, this blood was expanding all by itself!

"OK, let's go over the rules again: $30 for chugging,
$20 for gargling, and $10 for just lapping some from my palm."

Dr. Anderson takes his time, severely concentrating on reciting long, scientific diatribes, ignoring his flubs and continuing on. “This will either be a major milestone in pathology or a major blow to mankind! Let’s work all night until we nail this thing DOWN!”

Meanwhile, a local boob, Tex, fruitlessly attempts to clean up Jim Carrey’s blood from the bar floor, but since this is the same blood that keeps multiplying, he’s fucked. As he recites his lines, something about the blood and the present odd circumstances within the town being “demons’ work,” we reach a point in which the actor must not have been saying his lines loud enough, and a much-louder voice-over is layered directly over-top the old dialogue. As Tex babbles on, some strange farming men at the bar glare at him, since all the “strange things going on in this town” could very well clue townsfolk in on what’s actually going on: the sucking of people by these two wicker-hatted dudes.

After monitoring the conversation regarding Dr. Roy Anderson and his location on Willowbrook Road, one of the strange men, Egon, asks the bartender how to find this road. He claims to have “pressing business” with one of the residents.

“Are you guys tailors?” shouts an off-screen patron in response, which is greeted with laughter.

Upon receiving the directions, Egon responds with, “Your directions have been most…satisfactory,” and he and his sucking partner, Sontag, leave the bar.

Egon journeys on his gimpy leg to find Roy Anderson’s property and does, indeed, locate the residence. However, Egon then accidentally bumps into the window because he is a moronic demon alien, or something, and flees, having blown his stupid alien demon cover.

Buster, a white puffball of a dog, chases after Egon, who is promptly beaten to death with his Egon's demon alien cane. Jenny comes rushing out, looking for Buster, but sees only Don instead. She makes some offhanded comment about him being overdue, to which Don replies, “Well, you’re way overdue…for bed!” The fact that it's mid-afternoon is lost on our characters, but not anyone watching this film.

Don then leans into the camera, in shoddy close-up, lips parted, for a hot kiss. Jenny responds in kind, also leaning into the camera for this hot kiss, but then the camera cuts and we’re suddenly in bloody Egon’s mouth as he is eating the dog!

Wwatch out for Mr. Film School over here!

Don takes a brief trip through the woods to try to locate the dog, but instead finds a random key dropped by Egon earlier in the day. Don decides an old key is a good substitute for the dog and goes back to the house.

Later, we meet a newly married couple, honeymooning in the most romantic spot in the country: a seedy motel in Blood Suck Town. Man says “I’m gonna shower and then we can watch "'The Late Show.'”

His wife replies, “We’re married, now! We don’t watch 'The Late Show' anymore!”

Before you can figure out what the fuck that's supposed to mean, Man is killed in the shower by Egon as his wife lies on the bed and shakes, either from an off-screen attack or a vibrating mattress. And I'm serious when I say that. I really can't tell if she was just hit on the head and perhaps is experiencing a seizure, or if she just dropped two bits in the vibrating bed coin slot.

"Howdy, pardner. Room in this shower for two?"

The next morning, Dr. Roy Anderson sits at the table, patiently awaiting his daughter, Jenny, to fix his coffee, since he’s so fucking old and scientific that he can’t do it himself. Jenny forlornly pours the coffee, distressed by the absence of her dog. “Buster never misses breakfast!” she sadly exclaims.

Dr. Roy Anderson responds, “Don’t worry, when he gets hungry, he’ll come home…just like my students!” Thankfully there isn't much time to let sink in the fact that this line doesn't make a bit of sense, because Don stops by for breakfast, telling Jenny that they’ll go out later together looking for Buster. This warms her heart, and she offers to make him eggs.

“Scrambled, like you!” Don lovingly says. A nice sweet moment is shared. Everyone smiles at each other, really reveling in the warmness of the world and anxiously awaiting all the pleasures of the coming tomorrow.

And then Egon hangs the dead, mutilated dog outside the front door, rings the bell, and slowly drags his gimp body through some bushes, because he’s a gigantic dickhead. Jenny sees the dog's body, probably shoves her fist in her mouth and screams, and probably falls.

Dr. Anderson and Don examine the dog’s blood and find that it, too, is capable of the strange, replicating effect. 

“I’m afraid we’re dealing with forces we know nothing about!” exclaims Dr. Anderson, the top of his head the only part of him on camera. Don walks away, not responding to this as the camera awkwardly pans down on Dr. Anderson staring off, shocked, into space. Then the camera unsmoothly pans down to reveal the beaker now brimming with blood.

Jenny lies in bed, upset about Buster’s recent blood-draining and hanging. 

Don is also dismayed. “Why would someone try to SCARE us like this?”

Dr. Anderson’s booming, omnipresent voice fills the room. “Don! Come quick! YOOOOOOOOU won’t believe what is HAAAAAAPPENING!!” 

Don rushes to the basement lab to see Dr. Anderson trying to contain the blood now gushing from the several containers holding it and pouring all over the floor.

Oh no! What will they do!

No matter, because we then cut and finally meet Creton, the reason for all this bullshittery.

Rising with the morning sun, bathing in the warm springs,
and sucking a few bodies of their blood.
Creton relished it, and it was his.

Easily mistakable for a grey-haired version of Hyde from "That 70’s Show," Creton babbles bullshit over a dead woman’s body in a glass coffin as a boring suited man, Dr. Woodrow Kinski, looks on. The two off-handedly discuss the point behind the harvesting of blood (to awake their Demon Queen from her glass cofifin), even though at this point, everyone involved should pretty much know the game plan.

Back with our tepid heroes, Don shows Dr. Anderson the strange key he found in the woods while looking for Buster. Dr. Anderson, not recognizing the metal because he is brilliant, attempts to phone Dr. Kinski(!) at the institution, ignorant of the fact that he is not of this earth, or at the very least a non-human man.

Meanwhile, a random man we have never seen before sits behind his desk in an office, staring at the floor and literally waiting for the phone to ring in order to begin his scene, while simultaneously putting his faith in the director to cut out all that footage of non action.

Oops.

The phone does ring, and it’s Dr. Anderson, looking for Dr. Kinski, of course. Though Dr. Kinski has been holed-up somewhere doing research for the past month and left orders not to be disturbed, the man gives Dr. Anderson his phone number anyway, because why not?

Dr. Anderson ploddingly dials each number, (only 6 digits in all, which may have been appropriate for the time period, but as I don’t know any better, I will laugh anyway because it’s all the more to appreciate about this hammy movie) and then stares up at Don and smiles, looking as if he is about to ask someone out to a Sock Hop. The good doctors connect and make plans to meet up later to exchange the newly-found key for some tests.

"I just want to LOVE again!"

Dr. Kinski reports back to Creton immediately and thus takes part in a scene that lasts literally five minutes, but which only establishes Kinski has found the location of the key and that he’ll eventually steal it. Meanwhile, the woman attempting to play the dead queen in the coffin shuffles and jimmy-legs at her own disposal.

We then quickly check in with the deputy of the town, as he once again states that the chief is on vacation, and thus cannot solve the case of the missing people, because God forbid he should do any actual work. However, the vacationing chief decides to call the bar from a rainy area (see, because he’s in a different place) and verbally berate his deputy for letting the town fall victim to blood farmers, all the while magically knowing he could find his deputy at the bar.

Despite the fact that the deputy says absolutely nothing in reference to the Chief’s anger, nor even verbally acknowledges that the person on the other end of the line is the chief, a disembodied voice from the other end of the bar still decides to yell, “Give ‘em hell, Shorty!”

The random blood ritual has begun, with each black-hooded blood farmer drinking from the ceremonial bowl and then kissing the ceremonial dead girl.

We cut back to Dr. Anderson, the phone to his ear, waiting for his scene to begin. It takes roughly three Mississippi seconds. He’s talking to the Chief, and after a weird, unintentional throw-back of his head, the camera whirls momentarily within the woods to symbolize the passing of time, and the Chief appears at the doorway, already shaking Dr. Anderson’s hand. Dr. Anderson and the Chief settle down on the cozy couch as he lays down the entire dirty business of the growing blood and other goings-on of the past few days.

"Well I ain't never kissed a man, Bill, but you
do rub me the right way. Let's go for it."

With the courtesy of another quick cut, Dr. Anderson and the chief are now on their feet, with the chief agreeing to check out the Whittaker farm house, home to some of those blood farmers about which the town has frequently gossiped. How Dr. Roy Anderson knew this was the location of the bullshit is anyone's guess.

Chief meets Dr. Kinski at the house, who claims that the Whittakers have agreed to lend their abode to him while they vacationed in California. Dr. Kinski explains what’s going on, doing his best to keep up with overly-complicated scientific sounding jargon, yet clearly fucking up several of his lines.

Meanwhile, Dr. Anderson excitedly explains to Don a concoction he has whipped up to thwart the ever-expanding blood. As Don examines microscopic samples, the phone rings. Anderson grabs it, holds it to his ear and stares directly into the camera, knowing this is where they have agreed to cut. It's the chief, and the two gab for a bit before Dr. Anderson hangs up and looks confused. Dr. Anderson then dials Dr. Kinski, and Egon, who despite not having the patience to speak human English, answers the ringing phone, anyway. Egon mutters an angry demon curse and fires sparks into the phone with his hands. 

Dr. Anderson’s cry of “whaaa-a-a-at?!” mixed with his look of overstated befuddlement is priceless. “Look, I want to spo—SPEAK, to…DR. KINSKI!” he manages.

“There is no Kinski here!” replies Egon.

“Is this 4…6...2 - 7…8…3…?” Dr. Anderson stumbles.

Kinski quickly gets on the phone and makes up some shit about working on atomic bombardment “and you know how that can make some people feel.” Kinski, before hanging up the phone, says that his work is going well. 

Don inquires, “what did he say?” 

Anderson replies, confusedly, “he says his work goes…well!” as if it’s an outlandish concept. What the fuck, Dr. Anderson, you asked him.

The chief then receives a call from a missing girl’s father who grows impatient with the slow work of the police department. And right here is where I’d tell you how the chief handled the call if the scene didn’t cut him off mid-sentence and propel the audience suddenly to the woods.

Dr. Kinski drops by Dr. Anderson’s and the two make polite chatter. Dr. Kinski asks for a Bloody Mary and Dr. Anderson does not conceal his over-the-top confusion at his request, considering he offered him a drink in the first place. 

And then we cut outside to Dr. Anderson and Don talking about random life things. Where did Dr. Kinski go? Who knows! I sure don’t!

Dr. Anderson and Jenny are kidnapped by the cult and taken to the mountains where the final whatever will take place.

"I can dance CIRCLES around you, old man.
Any time, ANY PLACE!"

Luckily Don shows up with the antidote, but for some reason never even thinks to use it until Dr. Anderson tells him to. Don attacks the main dead girl with it, which melts her almost instantly, along with the rest of the cult.

Wow, that ended fast!

The three of them retire back to their peaceful home, where Don makes wedding plans with Jenny, regardless of the fact that she can’t even stand from her ordeal.

“Don, come quick!” Dr. Anderson suddenly cries. “YOOOOOOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT’S HAPPENING!”

Oh no, what now!

But don’t worry, it’s a new puppy, which Dr. Anderson holds up while smiling devilishly. The movie literally ends with Dr. Anderson laughing into the camera, raising his eyebrows as if to say, “eh?? Eh????”

And thus ends the greatest movie you never saw.