There are certain movies you just HAVE TO watch if only for their titles alone. With such a title you automatically tend to think "how bad can it possibly be
right?" Of course, only a few minutes into the film and you can't but realize how awful it is and all of a sudden the title doesn't sound that funny anymore. A few minutes
that's how long it takes in order to be exposed to a world of horrible acting performances by randomly selected yokels, incomprehensible dialog and no plot development whatsoever. During the intro we have John Carradine (him again
the more bad B-movies I discover, the more I encounter his fatigue face) murmuring something about being the devil and thus He who decides whether a person goes to hell or not. Apparently this sequence, and a couple of other ones featuring Carradine, where edited into the film by Fred Olen Ray afterwards! Okay, now I understand how Olen Ray has over 110 movies on his repertoire as a director and Carradine over 340 as an actor! Anyway, after the Judge of Hell's bizarre uttering, we switch towards a remote countryside setting. We have a party of four, people that couldn't possibly look less connected to each other, wandering through the woods and finding shelter in a secluded farm house. Apparently they are fugitive jewel thieves, but these people honestly look way too dumb to commit any sort of theft, let alone jewelery. You would then subsequently expect for the "Demented Death Farm Massacre" to ensue, but no
First there's a lot of arguing about the difference between stealing a jeep and picking up what other people threw away (seriously, who "throws away" a jeep?) and other totally random and nonsensical gibberish. The fattest and ugliest redneck I've ever seen is married to a beautiful young girl with impressive cleavage. It is later explained that her father owed the fat bastard $200 and they settled it with a marriage. That's hillbilly logic for you! Every dialog is drawn out five or six times more than necessary and the "action" sequences are shot in slow-motion. They literally do everything here in order to reach a normal playtime. The absolute most shameless attempt to fill up the running time is an extremely long monologue of a guy talking to God. Seriously, FOUR full minutes of staring at a dumb yokel talking to the sky! There's so much talking in this movie, it's crazy. Either the screenplay contained approximately 7,000 pages or these rednecks were just instructed to improvise whatever the wanted. Naturally, there's also a chase through the woods guided by the obligatory banjo music and incompetent cinematography. In the end, the only "demented" thing about this movie is that there are idiots like myself who watch it. The "Death Farm" is just a shed in somebody's garden and the only farming tool used in the "Massacre" is a pitchfork. Lame.
Review of Honey Britches
