chuckle vision.*

 

 

We're rapidly approaching the end of this years 31 Days of Horror so I reckoned I'd pay homage to the slasher genre re-invigorated by Carpenter's 78 classic Halloween.

And not just because there's a really good sequel out at the cinema.**

Then I realised that I'd have to actually sit and plan watching some decent movies and craft a well written critique so I thought 'fuck it' and just grabbed this off Cassidy's shelf....

Bunnyman (AKA The Bunnyman Massacre, 2009).
Dir: Carl Lindberg
Cast: Scott Kuza, David Scott, Alaina Gianci, Lucia Sullivan, Cheryl Texiera, Matthew Stiller, Veronica Wylie and Matthew Phillips.

"Shit, alright, we've learned our lesson!"

Welcome to the arse end of Backwoodsville USA, where a bunch of college buddies are enjoying the long ride to Vegas.

Well that's what it says on the back of the box.

Lazily taking in the scenery our fairly fucked six-some are surprised when a big truck - first seen in a ropy pre-credits sequence being driven by a man with furry feet - appears from nowhere and tries to ram them off the road before revving up and driving away.

This road based rage game of cat and mouse (OK rabbit and mouse....or is that rabbit and teen?) continues just long enough to pad the films running time to feature length meaning the director - and I use that term loosely - can now continue with the plot good and proper.

And with that in mind the Duel copying truck driver finally succeeds in forcing the car off the road and into a convenient tree.

Ouch.

Beware: This van is not full of sweets.

Luckily one of the group, Jack (Kuza, like it matters) is a mechanic and is soon on his back fiddling underneath the car.

Which would probably be OK if the terrifying trucker hadn't decided a short while later to ram them again, squashing Jack flat.

A lucky escape for him methinks.

Deciding the best way to escape from the devilish driver is to run away our surviving pals leg it into the bushes where they soon come across an inbred mentalist (whose house is surrounded by inverted crosses and bags of bones) with a gun fetish and an untempered erection who shouts a lot.

Just like your dad.

"Gerroff mah lahnd an' gerrin mah mooth ya bashtad!"

With forced buggery nowhere near top of their agenda the remaining five make their excuses and leave, deciding that if they walk in a perfectly straight line till nightfall not only will they find help but will ultimately forget all about their dead pal.

Which they indeed do within about 5 minutes.

Bastards.

Luckily (for us and them) night soon falls meaning that:

A. We don't have to look at their punchable faces as much

and

B. Everyone knows scary shit happens at night.

Unfortunately in this case it's just two folk, a pube-haired hillbilly and a sexy (in a pram-faced council estate kinda way) woman sitting in a car.

I bet Tobe Hooper is shitting himself right now.

Not due to him being a more talented film-maker more to do with decomposition obviously.

You know a film's low budget when they can't even afford to give one actress an arse.

 

Unable to give them a ride to town due to pubey having a really contagious case of rickets, the lady (Brian I think her name was but I can't be sure, look if the director can't be arsed why should I?) suggests that they go and rest overnight in the blood spattered and seemingly abandoned cabin a few miles back and that she'll come pick them up the next morning.

Sounds legit.

Everyone reckons this is a great idea but being American aren't too used to walking so within five minutes the entire mob of them have fallen asleep under a tree.

Which does give us the opportunity to gaze at the strangely attractive Veronica Wylie as she snoozes.

Wylie: Glued to a wall. More at ten.

Next morning everyone wakes refreshed and ready to go except the aforementioned Wylie that is, who keeps complaining that she was kept up all night by the sound of someone chomping loudly on carrots behind a nearby bush.

With her friends openly mocking her excuse for wanting an extra ten minutes kip (which if I'm honest probably makes a change from mocking her knobbly knees) Veronica heads over to the bush to investigate.

Popping her head around the exotic fauna she's (fairly) surprised to see a man in a sub-standard market stall rabbit suit wielding a chainsaw above his head.

This surprise however is cut short when he violently sticks it in her.
 

"What the fuck's up doc?"

Realizing that the rabbit is out for blood (and that there is only about 20 minutes left on the running time) our fearful foursome leg it toward the cabin only to discover that it's a trap.

Yup the cabin belongs to Mr. Bunnyman and his family which includes the harsh faced bird, that pubey bloke and a hunchback in a pair of welding goggles.

Tho' I doubt he's qualified. 

Outnumbered, out acted and scarily out witted, our surviving saps are pitted in a battle to the death against the loopiest Leporis since Rabbit Rampage was released on the SNES back in 1994.

Who will survive?

And what will be left of their careers?

Who'd have thought that after spewing forth the atrocious Shadow of The Dead over an unsuspecting world way back in 2004 that Danish boxer (he competed in the 1924 Summer Olympics) cum writer / director / producer and editor Carl Lindberg would create a horror character to rival Leatherface in the inbred badman stakes?

Not the person that hired that bunny suit that's for sure.

But scarily enough it works.

Which is a pity seeing as the rest of the movie is just a ragbag of ideas, scenes and situations stolen from a variety of  decidedly better sources.

Oh and Wrong Turn.

Tho' it is quite pretty to look at.

And I did sit thru' the whole thing without once wanting to stab myself in the eyes.

Which is more than can be said for the last Texas Chainsaw movie.

But is that really a good enough reason to buy this?

Answers on a postcard please.























































*As an aside, the reviews title was due to an amazing amount of hilariously conceived similarities 'tween the Bunnyman and The Chuckle Brothers fantastic Chucklehounds.

I was going to do the whole review as a comical exchange between the pair but to be honest I couldn't be bothered seeing as only about 3 folk read this.

What I can say is that'd have been bloody funny.

Probably.

If you don't know who The Chuckle Brothers are/were you can find out here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**And for any American readers this is what we Brits call being ironic.