Review by Matt Harries
Big Dumb Fun. Maybe the three words I’d use to describe this slab of low ambition bunkum. Sometimes big dumb fun is okay though, and for ticking most of the boxes of low budget horror The Butchers at least scores a bonus point. And although I would stop some way short of recommending you go out of your way to watch it, I reckon there’s a fair swathe of you who might stumble upon it in a late-night post-pub scenario and find yourself watching it with a grin on your face.
After a flashback dream sequence reveals former soldier Simon’s disturbing past, we become acquainted with the bus load of caricatures who form the majority of the cast. You’ve got your religious nuts, your druggies, the jock, the chicken-loving fat black woman – they’re all there, not forgetting of course the bimbos and a couple of ‘normal’ types thrown for good measure. Being on a bus in a horror film means certain mechanical doom, and the inevitable breakdown soon follows. One of the passengers finds a sign lying in the undergrowth, pointing the way to a bizarre attraction situated somewhere up the road – the Death Factory. Despite this somewhat insalubrious sounding venue the group have no choice but to head there in the hopes of finding a phone and a way to continue their journey.
The Death Factory, it transpires, has yet to open its doors to the unsuspecting public. Yet there has been one visitor. JB (Semi Anthony) is a mysterious well dressed figure who is shown around the place by owner The Collector (Randall Bosley). The Collector has put his heart and soul into opening perhaps the world’s first serial killer museum, filled with the blood soaked implements of death and torture belonging to several of the most infamous killers in history; Jack the Ripper, Albert Fish, Jeffrey Dahmer, Ed Gein, and Ed Kemper. Yet although the Collector thinks JB desires to purchase this unseemly swathe of real estate, he in fact harbours greater ambitions, mired in occult ritual and the resurrection of these killers onto the earthly plane. After dispatching the Collector he prepares to invoke these dark spirits, when along come our friends from the bus to throw a spanner in the works.
Still with me? I’m sure there are a few stragglers still here, shaking their heads with knowing smiles as they picture the ludicrous scene and its heady blend of nonsense. The Butchers takes a selection of your favourite cliches and conventions, grinds it into mincemeat and launches it unceremoniously on to the barbecue. The resulting burger is predictably bloody and prone to falling apart when prodded with an investigative finger, but when you need a greasy plate of food (as I said, after the pub) it’s best to go for cheap and familiar pleasures. So we have a handful of notorious murderers chasing a handful of idiots around the arse-end of nowhere, and a main villain who dabbles in the kind of occult that comes in big hide-bound books. What’s not to love? Don’t think for a minute that the gibberish stops there though. We also have a slathering of soft-core lesbian sex, a liberal sprinkling of cheap, predictable laughs, and a good dash of cheap ketchup-y looking blood. It’s all pretty camp and mainly good fun, but certainly not in good taste.
I think it’s too late to abandon the food metaphor now. Yes, go on, you’re going to have to lap up every last gristly morsel, even if it means somehow swallowing the ludicrous twist that sees Jack the Ripper unmasked as a woman, replete with a badly dubbed hokey English accent. To balance out that nonsense we have the amusement of watching the serial killers battling for kills using their fists, very much in the manner of Evil Dead. Seeing old Albert Fish engaged in a stand up fight with tattooed hero Simon (Damian Puckler), and landing a few swinging blows along the way, is plain silly and quite funny. As with many films these days the fight co-ordinator likes to throw in plenty of UFC-derived martial arts into the mix, so we see ground and pound, wrestling and jiu-jitsu techniques thrown in with the stabbing knives and swinging sickles. And continuing the modern trends there seems to be potential for a sequel, although I think I’ll pass on that particular course.
At only 1 hour 20 minutes long The Butchers is undemanding and mainly reasonable fun, and doesn’t take itself too seriously. Those whose cinematic palette demands refinement may wish to avoid. It’s not the kind of thing you’d usually enjoy sober.
The Butchers is out on DVD and VOD on 11th November.