Sunday, January 10, 2010

Review: Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988)

The Funmaster: Stephen Chiodo
The Participants: Mike Tobacco, Suzanne Snyder, John Allen Nelson, John Vernon

Killer Klowns from Outer Space. Just read that title five or six times over, and you'd have enough for a whole review right there. This is not a movie to be taken seriously, and the joke is pretty much evident on anyone who tries. So, let us try to remedy your no doubt burning confusion and review this strange little concoction of human misery and comedy alike. Be prepared, this is about to get stupid.

The movie, or drug trip from Hell, is just filled to the brim with insanity. Can you even get any more silly? This about giant claymation clowns waddling around zapping people with bad special effects to turn them into cotton candy. They shoot popcorn from their guns that turns into venomous demon-worms. The climax involves an ice cream truck, two horny female clowns (Aaaah, get it away!), a giant Godizlla-clown-monster and lots more that you just have to see to believe. There is a clown that uses his hands to make shadows on the wall, I won't spoil it. You have to see this.

What the hell is there to say? Killer Klowns from Outer Space is a film that looks like it was made using techniques from the 60s, and it's really just about as stupid as a movie can possibly get. This movie is Terrible, with a capital T. However, I like it, a lot.

There is a certain energy to this that is just unbelievably fun and maniacal. They have mastered the Art of Shlock. Everything about this is gleefully stupid and doubly enjoyable. It's all so garishly and freakishly colored, and for every time you roll your eyes, there will be another time you laugh or nudge your buddy and crack a joke. Because really, in what other environment is a movie like this passable but with friends? It's perfect for those. Watch it with two friends and it's good, with three friends and it's great.

Killer Klowns is just insane. You haven't lived until you've seen this shit for yourself. It has no shame, but then, it does not ever profess to have any, nor does it operate under any pretension of such. It is a visual representation of every time you were told to not care what others thought.

Okay, maybe not, but still.