Marva
It is an exhilarating, distressing, funny and profound film, with one of the more memorable film scores in years,
Woodyanders
Amiable and easygoing fetish club owner Kent Chubb (a fine and likable performance by Trent Haaga) finds himself in a real bind: Not only does he have problems with his bitter and fed-up wife (Debbie Rochon in peak snippy form), hearty, but ailing father Shank (marvelously played with infectiously jolly aplomb by Ken Foree), and a local city council that's hellbent on closing down his place, Kent also has a mad psycho killer on his hands who's bumping off club patrons and employees alike. Director Richard Griffin, who also co-wrote the blithely silly'n'wacky with Ted Marr, relates the entertaining story at a zippy pace, stages several gloriously hysterical song and dance numbers with rip-roaring flair, pokes merry fun at hypocritical self-righteous puritanism, ably milks the amusing sense of dippy humor for plenty of solid belly laughs, and delivers a decent smattering of gore as well as a pleasing plethora of yummy female nudity. Moreover, Griffin brings a certain engagingly goofy charm to the off the wall material that's impossible to hate or resist. The cast have a ball with their colorful roles: Lynn Lowry has herself a field day as fierce uptight bluenose Alma, Sarah Nicklin and Jason McCormick are utterly appealing as a pair of young lovers, William DeCoff registers well as the meek and browbeaten Mayor Rusty, and Carlos Brum jerks it up with appropriately hateful panache as jealous and possessive creep Dax. The various kinky fetishes of the club patrons are quite hilarious and even endearing in their strangely innocent sincerity. Caleb Emerson's sharp cinematography gives the picture a bright glittery look and makes cool use of split screen. Daniel Hildreth's groovy score hits the get-down funky spot. A total hoot.
