John Bruni reviews THE TAINT

The Taint70 min., 2010
Directed by Drew Bolduc & Dan Nelson
My rating: ★★★
IMDBOfficial Site

NEED COCK?

* * *

What better way to start out a movie than to show some tits, a severed penis and a redneck with a scythe shitting himself? THE TAINT starts out strong with such over-the-top absurdity, but too bad it doesn’t have much to do with the rest of the film.

A couple of scientists, eager to make a ton of money and get their dicks sucked, work at finding a formula that will allow its users to grow their cocks, all the better to get them sucked. Unfortunately, something goes wrong, and the formula ends up in the world’s water supply. Every man suddenly turns into misogynistic killing machines. That’s right, they only kill women, usually by flattening their heads with rocks while jerking off, blowing massively excessive loads.

Enter the unapologetically named Phil O’Ginny (played by co-director Drew Bolduc). He’s a very thirsty man trying to make his way through the zombie-ish apocalypse and doing his best to remain a kind and gentle soul, as far as women go. He teams up with Misandra, a hardcase bent on killing all the crazy men in the world. Only they can save the . . . well, actually, this film has nothing to do with saving the world.

In fact, it’s hard to figure out what, exactly, this movie is trying to accomplish. There are plenty of hard, intense images near the end, especially as one of the characters dons a cum- and blood-stained American flag while shooting the cocks off a bunch of savages. There’s a message, certainly, but it mostly seems like an excuse to show a lot—A LOT—of genital mutilation. The story really doesn’t go anywhere, either. Bolduc, who also wrote the screenplay, lacks focus when it comes to this. Maybe half of the movie is made up of back story, so there isn’t a lot of advancement, and honestly there really isn’t anything to move toward.

But Bolduc excels when it comes to characters. Phil is on the run from his past because of something he once did that he now interprets as very misogynistic (hint: there’s a wire-hanger abortion involved). Misandra isn’t really a hero to look up to, considering her extreme homophobia and her appreciation of animal cruelty. And true to form, in this zombie-ish apocalypse, the “zombies” aren’t nearly as scary as the “living.” Take, for example, Phil’s former gym teacher, Mr. Johnson. Well, he calls himself Houdini now. He’s gathered a gang made up of fellows with names like Browneye, Balloon Knot, Chili Dog, Suave Daddy, Pink Sock and . . . prepare yourself . . . ALLIGATOR FUCKHOUSE. Their favorite pastime? Gang rape. When they get a look at Misandra, they suddenly become very eager to gang rape her. No joke. They take their gang rape seriously.

And then there’s Ludas. To avoid the Taint, he hangs out in his friend’s parents’ basement, where he drives himself mad with drink . . . because alcohol is safe from the Taint. At one point, he had his face ripped off, so he wears a Chinese dragon mask, a Beethoven wig and razor sharp claws.

These lunatics populate the world of this movie, and they sell it big time. One could spend hours just watching these characters play off of each other, but unfortunately that’s not what makes a movie. Also, Bolduc does a really lousy job of selling Phil as a hero to people. There is no charisma. No passion. A viewer can’t connect with him. He’s just very unlikeable.

But getting back to the genital mutilation, one has to wonder how many dildos gave their lives to make this film. They’re shot off, ripped off, bitten, stabbed with needles, you name it, it happens to a dildo. Also, the head popping scenes are very well edited. They look incredibly real . . . until the camera lingers on them a bit too long.

There is also a great animated sequence with a father/son team of rabbits in a lab which will tear your heart out. To balance that out, there’s a training montage with Houdini that will make you shit. The black and white (and sometimes green) opening credits are amazing. Bolduc has a great eye for visuals—in particular the inside-the-pussy sex scene angle—but it’s a shame he’s lousy with story.

The one completely irredeemable thing about this movie, however, is the subtitles. There is no. Fucking. Way. You can play this movie without subtitles. It gives you three language options, but not an option to TURN THEM THE FUCK OFF. Even worse, they’re not very reliable. Sometimes, they miss a few lines. Often there are misspellings. (But they’re good for a laugh during the abortion scene, where it says in parentheses VAGINA SOUNDS.)

This is a flawed film, to be sure, but it has a lot of heart, and it will make you laugh your balls off. Or labia, if you don’t have a penis. Just seeing Alligator Fuckhouse in action is enough to . . . to . . . just . . . wow.

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About John Bruni

John Bruni is the author of DONG OF FRANKENSTEIN (New Kink), POOR BASTARDS AND RICH FUCKS and TALES OF QUESTIONABLE TASTE (StrangeHouse) and STRIP (Riot Forge). His short work has appeared in anthologies like A HACKED-UP HOLIDAY MASSACRE (Pill Hill), ZOMBIE! ZOMBIE! BRAIN BANG! (StrangeHouse) and the critically acclaimed VILE THINGS (Comet). He edited STRANGE SEX 3 for StrangeHouse, and he was the editor and publisher of TABARD INN: TALES OF QUESTIONABLE TASTE. Find out more at www.talesofquestionabletaste.com and www.talesofunspeakabletaste.blogspot.com.
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