Now we’re talking…!
I could not avoid the temptation any longer, and just blew about 80 minutes of my lifetime watching “Parasitic” (2012).
It has the feel of a student film; certainly the budget of one. It’s really nothing more than an excuse for Tim Martin — the writer/producer/director/creature designer — to film a handful of strip-club riffraff being attacked (mostly off screen) by a self-propelled pair of fake breasts with an 18-inch phallus jutting from her neck.
This movie had the feel of one of those Cinemax horror movies that’s really just a soft-core porn with some rubber monsters thrown in. The dialog and acting is atrocious… almost exactly like “Clerks,” “Chasing Amy” or “Mallrats.” (That’s not a joke.) I want to think I’m missing the point — like this is an ode to old-timey low-budget schlock splatter movies from the ’70s and ’80s… but no, that’s giving this film too much credit.
That being said, “Parasitic” is not without its share of laughs.
“Val” — the cartoonishly endowed night club manager — eats some bad sushi and goes to the bathroom to puke green-black slime in the sink. Afterward, she decides she’d feel better if she took of her skin-tight tank top (1). Well, she pukes again. So she decides to ditch the bra, too (2). Because that’s what ALL WOMEN DO WHEN THE BARF — THEY TAKE OFF THEIR TOPS. Well, good thing she did, because seconds later her neck gives birth to a corrugated horse dick (3).
Not to kick a movie when it’s down, but that’s just one scene of insanely poor writing. There’s so much more. Apparently no one has a cell phone to call for help, and the only land line in the bar is in a locked office. Another example: a guy in the downstairs cold storage room sets himself on fire with a Bic lighter and he’s reduced to near “Uncle Owen charred skeleton” status — all within 5 minutes — and yet produces no smoke or smell that would be noticed by the others in the night club?
One of the worst. Doc Splatter gives it a double F, which matches “Val’s” bra. Available on Netflix if you must.