under. pants.

It was a friends birthday a few weeks ago so

A. being a nice man

and

B. Knowing he was a huge fan of iconic cinema God Bill Pullman

I decided to purchase him a copy of the little seen 1990 comedy epic Going Under, a kinda Hunt For Red October/Spaceballs/utter shite hybrid that seemed to sink without a trace on release.

Tho' with the ad-line When is a sub not a sandwich? When the meatballs are in control it's not really surprising is it?

Well imagine my surprise dear reader when this popped thru' my letter box instead...

Going Under (1998).
Dir: William Hellfire.
Cast: Bill Hellfire, Lindsay Loves, Chelsea Mundae (AKA Daisy DeWright), Misty Mundae, Amanda Starr and Lilly Tiger.

Anyway, I thought I'd better check it out to see if it was in any way similar to it's namesake, hoping that it would at least suffice on the jokes front.

Well at least the pompous 'Factory 2000' bumf on the back made me giggle, they see themselves as a retro 90's reincarnation of Warhol's infamous coterie of weirdos and wannabees.

But obviously without the vomit stained hair and STD's.

Oh, and talent.

Anyway, let's begin now.

Moms hair, dads coat and a drink problem
caused by constant buggery from his uncle.

Opening with two fairly attractive (well, I say fairly attractive but I mean breathing - just) young women (the pug faced, fright eyed Chelsea Mundae and bespectacled brunette rentawhore Loves) curled up on the sofa watching the latest episode of the David Jason crime drama 'A Touch Of Frost' , their evening of police based fun is interrupted when a camply dressed and horrendously overacting serial killer cum bewigged nonce (director Hellfire - not his real name) suddenly breaks into their (well, his mum and dads, they must be on holiday) house and, after what seems like days of tedious 'hip' dialogue 'forces' them to strip to their cheap market stall (and non matching) undies before making them chloroform each other in a scene of acting so wooden I swear my DVD player got dry rot.

Hankies in mah mooth!

After the poor unfortunate ladies have passed out, Mr. Hellfire (resplendent in his mums bingo coat, really thin white sports socks and a market stall Joey Ramone wig) self consciously touches them up a wee bit before strangling the pair putting both them (and us) out of our misery.

But oh no, it doesn't end there.

They have one more story of floppy tottie to thrill us with.

Happy, happy, joy, joy.

Tom Baker and Lalla Ward finalise the divorce.

A young couple (one of which is every man's guilty pleasure and professional winsome waif Misty Mundae, the other is just some guy they found down at welfare) return home after a hot date and a taco.

Asking her in for coffee (and a bloody good meal judging by the alarming skinniness of her legs) our sneaky stud sneaks another girl out of his cupboard and onto the sofa before whipping out a handy jar of chloroform and laughing menacingly.

If I'm honest I wasn't really paying too much attention at this point, finding the sensation I got from jamming a rusty nail into my scrotum far more enjoyable.

They must be watching the same movie.

Still laughing (I think he's trying to remember his dialogue) the swine forces the two girls to chloroform each other.

But not before they wrestle and squirm for a bit.

Then some other stuff happens, he touches up Misty (but then who wouldn't?) for a bit and looks longingly at her big pants whilst the cameraman tries to stifle a chuckle.

I've also heard (and read on some, less noteworthy sites) that the film suddenly twists all expectations and suddenly becomes a Hitchcockian style shocker, playing on the bizarre feelings of claustrophobia inherent in the sordid sub-culture of sexual asphyxiation and the whole sinister underbelly related to the dangers of 'stranger sex'.

Well the Hitchcock similarities could be true if it turns out that he really wanted to make amateur shlock-shock porn featuring skinny homeless teens and girls with oversized faces gurning at every opportunity.

Probably.

If I'm honest I'd have to say I'll never know seeing as I got bored and turned it off.

I mean, who wants to see Ms. Mundae throttled by a tramp (whilst, gulp, wearing clothes) when you can easily download the 24 minute snippet from the classic Dead Girls Don't Say Goodbye where Misty tells her pal about the first time she experienced girl on girl action?

At least it's short (and to the point) and luckily for us director Bill stays well behind the camera.

Fuck, my pals in for a disappointment.