Dear Broken Lizard: If it's not too much trouble, I'd like my soul back. You remember my soul, right? Your monotonous, wretch-inducing and just plain fucking stupid movie, "Club Dread," made it wither into a pit that now rattles around my shell of a body. This rattling now serves as a mocking, permanent reminder of the 103 minutes of my life that I will never get back.
K.I.T.
Elizabeth Thompson
Now, I know what you're thinking.
"Whatever, 'Club Dread' is gonna be so sweet. Broken Lizard produced it! Aren't they the same comedy troupe that produced the hilarious 'Super Troopers'? Elizabeth Thompson is just some boring, uppity broad who reads for pleasure and has no appreciation for anything other than seven-part BBC adaptations of Jane Austen novels."
Yes, Broken Lizard are the same guys that brought you "Super Troopers," but trust me, I don't read for pleasure. When my mother looked at my SAT scores, she sighed and suggested I major in home ec.
I can appreciate a good old-fashioned,
14-year-old boy comedy. Projectile vomiting? Way awesome! Poop? Even awesomer! Weed references? The awesomest of awesome. But this movie? Devastatingly unawesome.
"Club Dread" takes place on Pleasure Island, a resort full of wasted, 20-somethings trolling for ass. The resort's owner, Coconut Pete (Bill Paxton), is a Jimmy Buffet-esque one-hit wonder from the '70s who wanders around most of the movie all partied out. But the party is totally over when a string of resort staffers, played by members of Broken Lizard, start falling prey to a machete-wielding serial killer loose on the island. That's where the movie becomes something akin to a combination of "Girls Gone Wild" and "Clue."
Was it Lars the masseuse? Sam the captain of Pleasure Island's fun police? Jenny the bubbly fitness instructor who gets progressively tanner throughout the movie? Juan, the lascivious diving instructor who provides the movie's most gratuitous tit shots? Or was it Putnam Livingston, the painfully awkward British tennis instructor? Will you even care at the end of this movie? Do you even care by the end of this paragraph?
Admittedly, "Club Dread" does start out strong. The film begins with detailed profiles of each bizarre staff member, making for potentially strong characters and most of the film's funniest scenes. One of the film's few running jokes that didn't make me want to rip out my hair and start speaking in tongues was Lemme's mispronunciation of the name "Penelope." But the sharpness of each character's idiosyncrasies quickly fades along with the reasoning behind any of their actions, making for a frustratingly incoherent and occasionally boring story line.
I'll also hand it to Broken Lizard that this movie isn't simply a cheap-shot spoof of the slasher genre like "Scary Movie." It does attempt to combine comedy with a genuine horror plot. Unfortunately, it's the plot's inability to remain consistent, for say, even five minutes, that ruins this movie.
And now, if you'll excuse me, it's time to get my soul back. I'm hoping the eight-hour marathon of "The Real World/ Road Rules Challenge," will provide me with the high-brow baptism I so desperately need.