Michael Regardie is a lonely, delusional and sick religious zealot of his own invented faith â€“ a faith that justifies hideous rituals of murder, rape and sexual torture.
Absolution from his escalating nihilism and debauchery may lie in his latest victim. But as salvation seems at hand, a specter from his past demands revenge…
Written and Directed by: John Niflheim
Starring: Peter Grouse, Allison Quick, Karma Jean, Penny Nichols, Lilly St. Claire
Michael is a sick in the head and lonely yet intelligent and manipulative religious nut who’s self-invented faithless religion dictates that it’s more than cool to lure underage chicks back to his slovenly bachelor pad, drug their booze, tie them up to a bed, then murder, rape, and torture them…but not necessarily in that order. Really? That’s all ya got?? Oh, lest we forget, he’s also seeking absolution for his plethora of sins from his current victim, or a demon from his past that’s demanding revenge, or….something…f*ck, I can’t remember. I was trying too hard to actually make it through this damn thing without punching a hole through my brand new flat-screen TV than I was paying attention to the actual “plot” of this f*cking thing.
I know what’s going on here, Big Bossman…don’t think I don’t. You’re a crafty one, and I’ll give you props where and when they’re due. And they’re most certainly due here. See, every now and again, the Wise and Powerful Webmaster – the top dog, the big cheese, the head honcho – will send me something (and don’t tell me it’s random – I’m onto you now) so horrifically and pathetically gawd-f*cking-awful that he knows that even me, with my intense, violent love and affection for indie horror that I’ll make many allowances for bad acting or less-than-stellar scripts if there’s a good story in there, will bash sh*t like this with the biggest hammer I can find like a horde of horny monkeys until I’ve actually bashed the sh*t so hard there’s nothing left of it – instead, I am covered from head to toe with the sh*t I was bashing – if the movie is truly bad enough that it deserves my full wrath. Welcome to about two-thirds, give or take, of my full wrath…
Since I’ve mentioned this fact before (only of course, worded differently) in a few other reviews of movies so devoid of anything redeemable, I know he’s onto me now, and this is what I get. He’s constantly trying to under my skin and inside my head, and I gotta tell ya, Boss…you almost broke me this time. Almost…HA!! Although right now I gotta say that I feel the sudden urge to apologize to you for the berating you took in my online hands for sending me HORNO a few weeks back. Suddenly, that flick ain’t so bad compared to this sh*tfest.
I know, I know…you’re still expecting some kind of review here, right? Okay, here goes:
The acting was below Z-grade sh*t, and the script and execution of said script was below even that. There’s nothing here that you can’t see done 1,000,000% better somewhere else. Meaning, if you want Skinemax-style simulated sex, go watch the first season of LIFE ON TOP – the girls are hotter and the acting is better by a long shot. If you want a true horror p*rn, go online and buy THE OFFICIAL FRIDAY THE 13TH PARODY…trust me, true believers, you will NOT be disappointed. If you’re one of those out there that still want rape with your horror, then there’s the original and even remade versions of both LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT and I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE. And no matter how you may feel about those, they’re still infinitely better than this half-assed (or is it no-assed?) effort that I just suffered through. At only 68 minutes long, it still seems like AVATAR watched back to back with DANCES WITH WOLVES (Hmmm…nah, won’t go there today) in duration. Avoid DIARY OF A SEX OFFENDER with the same caution that you would use to bolt to the other side of the street in full-on jaywalking (or even jayrunning) mode when faced with a gang of $2.00 syphilitic hookers.