Every week, we find a new Worst Film Ever and deliver it to you as a public service. These films should be avoided at all costs, but if you absolutely have to see them, strap on your rosary beads and prepare to lose your faith in film! This week’s Worst Movie Ever is:

Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li (2009)

Synopsis: After learning how to play the piano really well, Chun-Li (Kristin Kreuk) gets a mystical scroll that makes her go to China in search of her kidnapped father or learn the truth about her destiny or something. Meanwhile, the worst interpol agent on the planet (Chris Klein) is tracking down a legitimate business man in order to kill him for some reason.

Story at its worst!

Few movies make me want to rip out my own eyeballs more than this movie. You get a taste of how bad the story is from the synopsis, but it goes off the deep end almost from the beginning. Basically, it follows three main characters:

Chun-Li (who you remember from the title) is a martial artist who finally decides to go after her kidnapped father because she gets a scroll from an anonymous admirer. She heads to Bangkok where she pretends to be homeless, walks around like she has scoliosis, and finds the mystic Gen (Robin Shou) who teaches her how to make fireballs with her hands. She then seduces a woman at a nightclub in an attempt to get closer to the man who kidnapped her father – a huge corporate mogul and leader of a black market of some kind. She does some researching on the internet, and news stories about the mogul lead her to him somehow, but it doesn’t matter, because he kills her father in front of her anyway.

Charlie Nash (Chris Klein) is an Interpol Agent that is in charge of investigating Bison (the corporate mogul from the last paragraph) despite the fact that he’s chased him over four continents, hasn’t caught him yet, and somehow hasn’t been fired. He exists mostly to spit out cliche detective-speak and demand things happen immediately. He also gets to kiss Moon Bloodgood’s character Detective Sunee for no reason. He also has no problem with a vigilante killing Bison at the end even though the law usually likes it when criminals are arrested.

Bison (Neal McDonough) is an Irishman who grew up in the slums of Bangkok and still developed an Irish accent except for the times when he sounds American. He is somehow involved in a major black market gang, kills the heads of all the crime families, and kidnapped Chun-Li’s dad to make him do clerical work. And what’s the massively heinous crime, so despicable that he’s being hunted down? Something so rotten and evil that he deserves to die? Something even Satan himself wouldn’t do? He’s bought all of the slums in Bangkok and plans on cleaning up the area to develop condos! What a bastard! Community improvement is something even Hitler wouldn’t have dared to do!

Acting at its worst!

If there’s one hurdle this film has, it’s that the writing is almost all exposition and constant reminders that 1) it’s set in Bangkok 2) Chun-Li used to be a schoolgirl and 3) Charlie Nash is a bad ass even if he never shows it. But the actors aren’t talented enough to rise above (let alone question the dialog). Kristin Kreuk is cute, but her acting talents are best left for Neutrogena commercials. As if the voice over wasn’t awful enough, her whispy voice and slow delivery makes it sound like a Red Shoe Diaries episode so much that I was expecting Chun-Li to find her inner woman and go on a sexual journey throughout Asia, being empowered around every turn. (“My life was like a dream…” “I had to lose myself to the pulse of the streets…”)

Neal McDonough isn’t terrible, although his delivery is par for the course when it comes to bad guys. Telling people. that they. will not. stop you. is not exactly. intimidating.

But the last place prize goes to Chris Klein as Nash. Instead of him trying desperately to be a bad ass, the filmmakers might have done better to get Elmo from Sesame Street riding a Harley and carrying a Nerf gun. At least Elmo has some street cred. Klein gives that whispered constipation voice through everything, delivering some of the worst dialog imaginable. Yes, Nash, we realize we don’t want a ticket to this dance, that you love your job, and that you love shouting “Nash out!” over your walkie.

Directing and Editing at their worst!

The whole movie plays like a C-level action flick that is pretending as hard as its little heart will allow to be a blockbuster action movie. I imagine the filmmakers and studio standing around wondering why they didn’t get the same sort of reception that Iron Man got. Not only is the entire thing dangerously cheesy, it’s not even shot well. It’s all fairly standard, but director Andrzej Bartkowiak breaks several cardinal rules of filmmaking, including the 180 degree rule. Some shots are framed as though characters have left the room, only to reappear later. It’s really just sort of sad.

And speaking of reappearing later, the editing is one of the big culprits for all of the plot holes. The most egregious example is when Gen is killed in a huge explosion at his house, Chun-Li mourns, and then he appears later in the film to kick ass with no explanation as to how the hell he got reincarnated. Nothing. Not a word. No one’s even surprised.

The Worst of the Worst!

It’s difficult to describe how bad the movie is because of how convoluted it is. That’s right. It’s so bad that it’s hard to write about. You’ll find yourself asking “why!?” in almost every scene. Nothing anyone does makes sense. How they know things doesn’t make sense. And worst of all, the action sequences are actually good enough to make you wonder how they slipped into a movie this awful.

At first, I figured I would highlight the entire club scene in which Chun-Li inexplicably seduces a business woman, Nash and Det. Sunee stakeout the place fruitlessly, and what can only be described as a “Street Fighter” rap plays in the background. Was I expecting “Go Ninja! Go Ninja! Go!” to be blaring? Yes. It was that corny.

But instead, I figured I’d simply highlight the scene in which Bison is finally killed. Is it a particularly bad scene? Other than the dialog, no. The action is fairly cool, but his death makes zero sense. Other than him killing the heads of the crime families (which is pretty noble), and giving Chun-Li’s father a baller-ass office against his will, Bison doesn’t do anything within the scope of the film that’s bad. His crime literally is buying slum land in order to make the city a better place, all while trying to see his daughter again. I understand gentrification is a touchy subject, but the guy doesn’t really do anything all that illegal. He’s trying to put up decent condos and park space. Why is that evil again? Doesn’t matter – they kill him in front of his daughter anyway, even though he’s incapacitated, and the rule of law dictates that he be arrested. It’s the final absurdity of the film that will make you punch your television for agreeing to display those nightmarish images.

Final Thoughts

Can I please stop thinking about this movie now? How is it possible that in this day, decent money and well-known actors are being tricked into making so terribly, mind-numbingly awful?

Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li hits DVD on June 30, 2009. Buyer beware.

Every week, we find a new Worst Film Ever and deliver it to you as a public service. These films should be avoided at all costs, but if you absolutely have to see them, strap on your rosary beads and prepare to lose your faith in film! This week’s Worst Movie Ever is:

Underground Comedy Movie (1999)

Synopsis: Ill-conceived sketches meant to insult and offend – including, but not limited to, fetus sales, Boobwatch, Bag Lady Beauty Contest, Musical Parody “I Hate L.A.,” spoofs on Dirty Harry, and Michael Clark Duncan losing his gay virginity.

Offensiveness at its worst!

What you may not realize, dear reader, is that a long discussion (almost thirteen minutes) went into shaping this feature – questioning over what films would be off-limits and which ones would be rife for hatred. There’s something seemingly unfair about including a movie like this amongst the ranks of the Worst Ever simply because it’s such an indie film. It even has the word Underground in the title if you needed more of a hint. However, it wasn’t so indie that it couldn’t get legitimate actor Michael Clark Duncan involved or several C-list celebrities on board. Do you know how to get a hold of Joey Buttafuoco? Didn’t think so.

Plus, ShamWow Vince opened the door to ridicule by 1) running human feces through an editing bay and calling it a movie and 2) suing the Farrelly Brothers in order to gain publicity for said movie.

Double plus, it’s a cautionary tale, so it stands as a lesson if nothing else. The most important lesson is that being offensive simply to offend is basically meaningless. A middle schooler who sends Goat.se to his grandmother could have written this movie, and I’m not totally convinced that that wasn’t the case. The jokes are the easiest possible – and it’s mostly because Vince Offer (writer/director/purveyor of fine vegetable choppers) made the goal of his sketches to offend instead of, you know, make people laugh. Which has its own merit in a way – the CKY crew made a living out of offending – but Underground Comedy Movie is done so joylessly that it plays like the desperate attempt from a young guy to get his mother to finally pay attention to him by mocking the gays. Offer would have done better to take out a billboard. And I’m not against gay jokes, I just want them innovative. As it turns out, someone trying to offend is more boring than anything else.

Writing/Directing at its worst!

As if the focus and intent of the film were bad enough, the execution is done with the skill of a million monkeys on typewriters. It turns out the result isn’t Shakespeare. Changing the song “I Love L.A.” into “I Hate L.A.” as a parody? This is the kind of shit that loses talent shows. Hell, this is the kind of shit that makes you have to lie when a friend asks you what you thought of his performance.

Sorry, but mocking “Baywatch” by calling it “Boobwatch” wasn’t even funny in ’93.

Sadly, even the few concepts that move beyond the obvious are destroyed by what seems like a complete lack of effort. A mock talk show featuring a guy who likes to rape babies (because it’s offensive) turns out to be ten minutes of the host asking “So you like to rape babies?” followed by the guest insisting that, yes, in fact, he loves to rape babies. Are you offended yet? Didn’t think so. Yet, the concept of a baby-rapist does have some potential to it – both for comedic effect and as a means to offend. But, ironically, Vince and company manage to take something horribly offensive and make it dull and shrug-worthy. It’s like if Eli Roth somehow managed to shoot Hostel in such a way that made people yawn when someone’s eye got burned out of her skull. Maybe that in and of itself is an achievement.

Acting at its worst!

Remember those friends you had freshman year of high school that got together with a handicam, bought twelve dollars worth of public access time, and filmed themselves pantsing each other outside the Sonic? They all deserve to be on Inside the Actor’s Studio compared to the talent in Underground Comedy Movie. Somehow, the people involved manage to be worst than the guy you grabbed from your fourth floor dorm for that student film you made. How that’s statistically possible, I don’t know.

It’s a great reminder of why some of the personnel never made it above the regional theater level of fame. Comedian Ant plays an aggressive gay man so poorly that it boggles the mind how someone who is an aggressive gay man can’t figure out how to play one in a movie. Michael Clark Duncan might be decent, but it’s impossible to tell through the writing. Joey Buttafuoco is exactly at good at acting as you’d imagine he’d be, and Slash pretends to be drunk (a towering feat) while judging the bag ladies in swimsuits.

But the overall standout is Vince Offer himself. He’s the Carrot Top of acting. The Sanjaya of acting. The William Shatner of acting. Even as the originator of the writing and the man pushing his vision for the film, Vince can barely commit to getting full sentences out of his mouth, leading anyone pitiable enough to see this cinematic abortion believe that it would have worked better if the monkeys that wrote it also starred in it. Somehow, Offer is unable to do a Dirty Harry impression. Seriously. Who on this earth above the age of 9 can’t do a solid, at least passable Dirty Harry impression? Vince Offer and the guy who pulled me over for speeding last week are the only two that come to mind.

The Worst of the Worst!

I honestly thought about punting on this portion this week. The movie is a string of terrible sketches, one after the other, and it’s difficult to figure out which is more boring/senseless/tragically unfunny. I may be called out for this, but since it all rambles on mindlessly, it seems like the only way to pick a scene is to choose one that people actually try to defend as funny (apparently).

Vince plays “Batman” (A baseball player. With a bat. That he swings. Get it?) and his brother/villain which looks eerily like Vince in make-up sabotages a game (read: grabs the ball from the pitcher who appears to be the only other player on a field in a game being watched by no one). You realize that the villain’s schtick is that he rhymes things right around the time he says, “I’m not cryin’/I’m rhymin’.” That’s right. As soon as you realize that he’s a villain who rhymes, he fails at rhyming. The villain pitches to Batman, for some reason, then catches the ball in the face. Then a woman whose presence is never explained hits Batman over the head. I’m not purposely trying to make the sequence of events sound convoluted. It’s just that they are. It’s just – I have no explanation for it. It’s completely baffling.

Final Thoughts

You may be fooled into thinking that watching this movie is some sort of interesting cultural experiment. After all, it did start the “____ Movie” theme long before Friedberg and Seltzer – so maybe it’s the work of a prescient idiot savant. Do not be fooled. Avoid this movie at all costs unless your friends put $1,000 on the table to see if you can sit through it. Financial gain is the only reason to even think about renting it or stealing it from the one friend you know who bought it after seeing the infomercial for it one too many times after 3am reruns of South Park. The jokes are about two decades too old to be topical (even at the time of its release), the offensive material is presented too tamely, and the whole endeavor reeks of a sick kind of failure – the kind of failure that probably sets in before the script gets written, yet the writer presses on. Then the writer finances his bad idea himself and has to go back to selling super absorbent towels with a headset and beating hookers.

Every week, we find a new Worst Film Ever and deliver it to you as a public service. These films should be avoided at all costs, but if you absolutely have to see them, strap on your rosary beads and prepare to lose your faith in film! This week’s Worst Movie Ever is:

Terror Toons (2002)

Synopsis: Candy, a ridiculously well endowed teen (that means she has big boobs) receives a mysterious package in the mail from none other than the Devil, which she confuses with, I guess, her Netflix subscription. This buxom peroxide blonde pops in the DVD to watch the adventures of Dr. Carnage (a doctor) and Max Assassin (a gorilla). Soon, the toons escape their poorly drawn world and turn into gigantic men in poorly made suits who go about slaughtering all those in the house. Oh did I forgot to mention that Candy’s sister Cindy is hosting a lame-ass party? Because she is, but it’s lame-ass.

Directing at its worst!

Some movies in our “Worst Movie Ever Column” are here because they’re bland and unremarkable. Terror Toons is here because it is quite possibly the single worst movie ever made. This gigantic piece of shit had the remarkable honor or being, literally, the first movie that I ever paid to see (rented at Blockbuster) that I couldn’t sit through and watch. I subsequently tortured myself by watching it all to dump on it with a good conscience, but given the choice next time I’d rather by water boarded with hot cocoa.

Which aspect of “directing” should take the forefront in this critical assault? There isn’t a single redeemable shot in the entire filim. Even the ample busted Candy (Lizzy Borden, most recently seen in 2005′s Monster Asses, which is not a horror film) barely gives a damn nipple slip and she’s a freaking porn star. The camera work switches between awkward close up and boring, side by side static shots. Even the animated sequences lack any movement to them and feel as though they were created by me in Flash MX while drunk and watching Timecop in the background. I don’t even feel comfortable narrowing down more flaws in the “direction” of the film because, to put it bluntly, the entire film is a pile of shit.

Acting at its worst!

This category doesn’t apply to Terror Toons because I’m convinced no real actors were used in the filming of this dog turd. In fact, Terror Toons seems to have either been the sole credit to their resumes or the sole credit that destroyed their career. The only “success” any of these actors found afterwards was in either hardcore (Candy) porn or softcore (Cindy) porn. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love porn far more than the next guy, but that is not an endorsement of this film’s acting cred.

Could I narrow down a scene that is especially bad? Well perhaps during the lame-ass party when four cardboard cut-outs have come to life (not literally) and are splitting a four pack of slightly-alcoholic mixers and decide to play strip Ouija. You’ve never seen a more lifeless group of saps because even corpses fart sometimes. Though the entire film is bad, perhaps the parents returning home to their recently destroyed home and basically screaming as if someone had pinched their sexual organs in a machine clamp could rival the awesome party scene.

Story at its worst!

I’m giving director Joe Castro credit in assuming that he actually made writer Rudy Balli write something and then print it out. Because the way this plays out, I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if there wasn’t even a script. The basic premise of the film is completely moronic. The Devil is sending out DVDs that release 2 inept men in clown suits who kill boring people. Surely all those eons spent in hell would have resulted in a slightly more thought out and intimidating plan than that. Structurally, the film is a garbage pile. After not appearing nude in a bath (brief boob shot), Candy pretty much checks out while watching the DVD, but we cut back to her several times to see her just sitting there. Meanwhile, the cardboard cutouts talk about nothing, or something, but their lack of voice fluctuation and facial expressions make it difficult to understand. Then suddenly the pizza guy is dead, as are the friends, and Cindy transforms into a superhero version of Lisa Loeb if a superhero version of Lisa Loeb was completely stupid rather than totally hot.

Considering the film is only 75 minutes long, there isn’t much more story I can point out as being horrible but trust me – everything is horrible. Dr. Carnage and Max Assassin (who the hell names a gorilla Max Assassin?) are pretty much the worst bad guys ever and their cartoon plays like an episode of Itchy and Scratchy if that cartoon were real and also gooey bird shit sliding down a window.

The Worst of the Worst!

I don’t even know what to tell you. If by now you still want to watch this, you deserve what you get. Saying one part of this movie is worse than the other (and through logic, some parts are better than others) is like saying going numb while getting your eyes raped out by a rabid monkey is the best part of said act. It all still sucks. I would say the only part that doesn’t suck is the first few moments when you’re hoping to see some serious boobage from Candy. You get disappointingly little, but its the least amount of disappointment you’ll feel the entire time. For sake of structure, I will say the worst of the worst is the climax, where Cindy is some sort lame super hero and any part of the film that even attempts to use the worst animation you’ve ever seen in your life.

Final Thoughts

I hate Cole Abaius for making me remember the most traumatic movie going experience of my life. Seriously. This is the worst movie I’ve ever seen. Ok, it’s actually a toss up between this and one other – which will be covered later on in this column. The idea behind Terror Toons is okay, I guess, but the execution failed from the moment someone typed “Fade In” and didn’t stop until someone was tricked into putting this thing on DVD. The ultimate failure was my own, in renting this movie.

To quote Shakespeare, as I’m oft to do: Terror Toons, the love I bear for thee can afford no better term than this – thou art a villain. Also, Joe Castro, please… Stop making films. That is all.

Every week, we find a new Worst Film Ever and deliver it to you as a public service. These films should be avoided at all costs, but if you absolutely have to see them, strap on your rosary beads and prepare to lose your faith in film! This week’s Worst Movie Ever is:

Snoop Dogg’s Hood of Horror (2006)

Synopsis: One movie with three non-linked vignettes featuring a young girl seeking revenge on a gang, a crew of black war veterans seeking revenge against a hick stereotype, and a rapper with a haunting past…that comes back for revenge.

Horror at its worst! I realize it would be far too easy to lambaste low-budget horror. It would also be foolish since low-budget horror has its own appeal, the sort of excitement that comes from seeing innovation, satisfyingly groan-worthy dialog, and pounds and pounds of red-dyed Caro syrup. So I come not to bury cheap horror, but I do come to dig a giant hole in a toxic waste dump to throw Hood of Horror into, hoping that it’s deep enough to reach Hell.

There’s no reason to take this movie seriously at all because it fails miserably as entertainment. So it should just be plain fun, right? Wrong. What’s more frustrating is that watching it with the expectations of a gore-a-thon, as comedy horror, or as a grotesque morality play – it all comes up short. As a gore-a-thon, there’s barely any blood. As a comedy horror, there’s not nearly enough over the top moments or funny lines. As a grotesque morality play, it’s confusing nature and obsession with revenge bogs it down. In fact, I have no idea if there is a certain set of expectations that would allow this movie to be anything more than a waste of time and brain cells. Basically, it seeks to incorporate a lot of elements from each of these sub-genres, but can’t get in the right amount to satisfy any of them.

I’ll admit that killing a dude with a 40oz Bottle through the head is a fantastic death, but if that’s the saving grace for the flick, then I might as well just be reviewing a Youtube clip. That moment: B+. This movie: Kill Me Now.

Acting at its worst! When you place Snoop Dogg at the centerpiece of a film – even if he is only in a few stolen-directly-from-the-Crypt-Keeper introductions – you know exactly what you’ll get in the acting department. Especially when those introductions feature Snoop’s waked and baked delivery complete with one of the most ridiculous-looking ghoul girls of all time (We get it, you have sharp fang teeth! No need to keep your mouth open every minute you’re on screen).

The actors they got for this thing have the magical ability of trying to deliver terrible dialog as if they’re either actual zombies attempting to emote or auditioning for King Lear. You get the idea that these actors were best friends of the gaffer or thought they were having their big break and needed to leave their blood out on the field for the talent scouts to recognize. Strangely, all they really needed to do was have fun with the material. Those that slept walk through, including Billy Dee Williams who was only there for a paycheck, drag the already boring stories down so much that people watching it will be envious of their friends who decided to stay home to do calculus homework instead of renting the movie. Those that attempt to have fun are up against too many awful outside elements to make a positive dent.

Ernie Hudson (yes, seriously) comes close to being decent, but even he is buried in the avalanche of words that somehow transformed from ink on a script page to pig excrement when the cameras started rolling.

Story at its worst! What’s baffling about this movie is that it’s utterly boring. It spends so much time trying to explain the scenarios and to explain the obvious that you’ll start wondering if you’re listening to the commentary track or watching the actual movie. Mindless gore isn’t difficult. Set up a few flat characters with a few decent one-liners and put them in situations that create a lot of opportunities for boobs to be exposed and random household objects to be used in ways not before imagined. Somehow, the filmmakers behind Hood of Horror missed the memo on that because I’ve already mentioned the only interesting/exciting death and, let’s take a deep breath before I say this, there is a severe lack of boobs. Watching the film hoping for blood and boobs will frustrate even the most mild-mannered to go on a killing rampage. If you do happen to do that, make sure to bring a camera, because the result would be far better than Hood of Horror.

A girl kills people with a magic spray paint can. Some old dudes get angry and violent. A ghost from rapping past comes back to haunt his former partner. Those sequences are presented with about as much enthusiasm as I’ve just written their blurbs.

The Worst of the Worst: Surprisingly, there isn’t one scene that stands out as terrible because the entire film is just that bad. Ironically, if a scene had stood out as being ridiculously bad, it probably would have crossed the line into so ridiculously bad that it’s good. Although, if I have to pick something (and I do because of the arbitrary structure for this feature), it would have to be almost any interaction between Tex Jr (Anson Mount) and the veterans that live in the house he’s just inherited. For a movie to blather on and on about racism being terrible, it’s shockingly awful that it uses the worst racial stereotype to drive home its points. Tex Jr’s lines never get any better than his name his. Neither does his accent.

Final Thoughts: I have no idea how a movie with such a promise could fail so terribly. Somehow, the filmmakers managed to take three ideas that would never have the steam to become full features and crammed them together into one, hoping that they could hold their own if they were only half an hour long each. They also hold back on the blood and guts that it makes you wonder what the point in making the movie in the first place was. The only decent explanation might be that they saw the film as a morality play, trying to teach a directly targeted group about ethics, but 1) that’s a disgustingly lofty goal for gore and 2) they spend so much time talking about revenge that the lessons don’t come clearly through. To borrow from our very own Coroner’s Report, there’s only one interesting death, the gore is decent but still not enough, there’s a severe lack of sex and nudity, and we’re beat over the head with revenge instead of being able to learn anything of importance. Basically, they’ve somehow managed to create the anti-cheap-horror genre. It’s the exact opposite of everything that horror should be.

Every week, we find a new Worst Film Ever and deliver it to you as a public service. These films should be avoided at all costs, but if you absolutely have to see them, strap on your rosary beads and prepare to lose your faith in film! This week’s Worst Movie Ever is:

Descent (2007)

Synopsis: Maya (Rosario Dawson) is a college senior whose entire psychological demeanor shifts from dull to dull and murderous after she’s sexually assaulted by a douche bag (Chad Faust). Shifting from solid student and general good girl, she gets lost in the after hours club world of hard drugs, random fellatio and then plots revenge on the guy that shattered her innocence.

Directing at its worst! It’s impossible to say anything positive about the directing or cinematography because it’s unremarkable in almost every way. The shots are pretty standard and uninspired, but the real tragedy is that the most visceral moments of the movie – the rape scenes – are done in a cowardly way. It’s unclear whether the shots are supposed to be detailed and intimate or unflinching and raw, making the scenes confusing and worthless. What could be incredibly strong, devastating moments become convoluted and cringe-worthy for the wrong reasons.

The final rape scene is so confusing that it’s unclear as to who is doing what to whom for some time. The completely dark setting and camera saturation doesn’t help.

Acting at its worst! The acting is completely wasted. It’s Rosario Dawson. How bad could it be? I’m sure I thought the same thing before seeing it, but her character does nothing the entire film. For about 100 minutes, you’ll see her engaged in cardboard cliche dialog that matches the sweater she’s wearing – both probably gifted to her by her grandmother at Christmas.

People talk behind her back about how disconnected she’s become, people do drugs and the director really gets into rave-scene imagery, but Dawson barely has any lines to develop into anything. Chad Faust isn’t terrible, but he falls prey to the same problem of having nothing to form a character from – in the end, he ends up being a stereotype of an attacker.

Essentially, it’s the equivalent of giving actors the toilet paper Uwe Boll wiped his ass with and expecting them to come up with lines and actions from it.

Writing and Story at their worst! With everything being as boring as it is, it’s clear that Descent is one of the worst films ever made because of the story. Almost nothing makes sense. There’s nothing interesting about Maya from the beginning, and a host of questions remain after her attack – why she doesn’t go to the police, why she doesn’t have any friends, why she’s working at The Gap, among many others – and instead of dealing with the reality of rape, the film doesn’t deal with anything at all. Basically, a really boring girl is date raped, and turns into a zombie for the next hour until she discovers drugs and alcohol which turn her into a drunk zombie. Just when you think there might be some action or dialog, there’s more techno music and bad editing.

The club scenes are awful and add nothing to the story, certainly nothing to help Adrian, the hedonistic character that draws Maya in. He spends most of the time shoving things into his body, swaggering for no reason, and sticking his penis into girls. The only hint at his homosexuality or bisexuality is in a split second where the edge of the frame of one shot catches a guy sucking him off in the background. Because, you know, it’s not an important plot point that he might be down to bugger the guy that raped Maya as a means of revenge.

And then, out of the blue, Maya flirts with and asks out the very guy who raped her – a guy who somehow thinks that a girl he raped has the hots for him. Had the characters been set up well, it’s sort of plausible, but without it, you’re left wondering how a guy could be that obtuse. But there’s no time to be confused, because the date ends with Maya blindfolding the guy and letting Adrian go to town on the rapist’s exit-hole. The film abruptly ends, with no closure or understanding as to why getting a drugged up guy to rape the guy that raped you makes it all better, after an excruciatingly long rape scene where nothing different happens for minutes on end. What should have been brutal becomes repetitive and boring. At least it matches the rest of the film!

The Soul Crush: There are a ton of awful scenes in this flick, but it would be impossible not to say that the final scene isn’t the worst of them all. After what seems like a full week of watching scenes devoid of character or plot, Maya takes revenge on the guy that raped her by getting her new surprisingly homosexual coke-head sado-master to, you probably guessed it, rape him right back. It’s perhaps the only scene in movie history to be both a static shot and a flash-edited mess – how this is possible is unclear, but it evokes the violent release of every bodily fluid the audience might have been foolish enough to carry into the theater without evoking any artistic merit.

Simply put, the scene forces itself on your eyeballs without any consent. If only there were a shorter word to use for that action.

Final Thoughts:

Descent is the cinematic equivalent of a feminazi ranting to no one in particular. It deals with an immensely serious topic and handles it with the care a date-rapist might give his victim after drugging her and duct-taping her soft hands to his bedpost. The characters are stereotypes or so pliable that their shifts make no sense. Solid actors are given nothing to do for almost two hours bookended by the two most poorly shot rape scenes in the history of celluloid. What’s a real shame is that there are some fascinating rape/revenge films out there – I Spit on Your Grave and Irreversible come to mind – that shine a light on just how bad and exploitative this film is.

Watching this movie will make you angry at Talia Lugacy the writer/director. Hell, it’ll make you mad at the camera company that sold her a camera. To call this film unwatchable is like calling a week-long colonoscopy only slightly uncomfortable. Trust us, and avoid this film at all cost. This week, it’s the Worst Movie Ever.