The word “repugnant” doesn’t get used as much as it should these days.
Which is good, because if it was, it would blunt the effect of stating that this Troma studios, musical reading of William Shakespeare’s The Tempest is a repugnant turdlet of a film — something that requires a Silkwood shower for the soul immediately upon viewing and is about as unwatchable as most things get.
Just truly terrible, really.
So. It’s perfect Troma fare!
Almost a half century of this, well, shit, from the folks at the little studio that could and does and blecchh.
Where to begin.
How about the opening scene, which features a handgun suicide that spatters a small child with her mother’s blood and brains? Not as hilarious as it sounds.
Then there’s the introduction, complete with gestures, of a character in a wheelchair as: “The lady who puts the ‘handy’ into ‘handicap,’ she’ll make you pop a boner as she pops a wheelie.’ ”
You’d think that was the high water mark, but, no, soon after, you’re treated to a torrential, never-ending tsunami of fecal matter, from a group of whales who leap overhead, filling a small party boat with showers of shart.
Typically terribly acted, with any actual cleverness cloaked in cock and cripple jokes, gratuitous boob shots, double entendres, full-on tendres, bodily functions and fluids and, of course references to and lines from the works of The Bard. Presumably. It’s so off-putting that anything that comes out of the mouth of any of the “actors” is tainted with so much awful that even if it was written by the greatest wordsmith of the English language, it would still form a coil of filth that you’d step over if you saw it on the sidewalk.
If you’re looking for anything redeemable, well, I guess in all of the piss and poop and tits and ass there are pointed barbs against woke culture, big pharma, the rich, New Jersey and other targets that are as obvious as every dick joke tossed at you.
Jesus Christ, if you last 40 minutes into this atrocity, you’ve got a remarkably strong stomach and questionable sense of self-worth.
It’s just gross.
And repugnant.
And utterly, entirely, Troma.
Shakespeare’s Shitstorm screens online as part of the Calgary Underground Film Festival until May 2. For more information please go to calgaryundergroundfilm.org.
