Combustible Celluloid
 
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With: Mischa Barton, Dave Bautista, Andy Dick (voice), Eric Roberts, Danny Trejo, Abigail Wright, Frank Collison, Marisa Lauren, Drake Bell, Tori Black, Brooke Hogan, Korrina Rico, Elizabeth Morris
Written by: Martin Owen, Abigail Wright, Elizabeth Morris, Tim Burke, Sean Decker
Directed by: Martin Owen
MPAA Rating: R for violence, sexual content, language and drug use
Running Time: 86
Date: 06/26/2015
IMDB

L.A. Slasher (2015)

1 Star (out of 4)

Slice-Told Tales

By Jeffrey M. Anderson

This bloody attempt at satire suffers from comparisons to other movies that did the same thing much better, but also from a flat, facile approach that renders everything slick, soulless, and vacuous.

In a Hollywood overrun by people who are famous for no reason — and more trying for that status all the time — a mysterious masked killer (voiced by Andy Dick) decides to do something about it. He targets an actress (Mischa Barton), a stripper (Marisa Lauren), a pop star (Drake Bell), the mayor (Eric Roberts), a reality TV star (Brooke Hogan), and an heiress (Elizabeth Morris).

He provides online status updates and "tweets," and starts amassing a plethora of followers. He occasionally walks around or goes to dance clubs. A TV reporter (Abigail Wright) tries to get the real story, and two drug dealers (Dave Bautista and Danny Trejo) provide some intermittent comedy relief.

L.A. Slasher comes nowhere near the complex discourses raised by movies like Natural Born Killers or God Bless America, and in fact it really has nothing to say other than "reality TV stinks" and "we're all obsessed with social media." But 86 minutes of those messages, repeated, with no interesting characters to follow, grows quickly tiresome.

Add to that the chilly scenes of torture and bloody murder, and it becomes even more disturbing; the movie can't make us care about the victims, nor can it make us root for their demises, and the whole thing just becomes a cruel sideshow. In addition, the movie simply looks bad, with awkward cutting between conversations, shots gazing at the beautiful people the movie claims to despise, and endless scenes of empty filler.

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