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An unfortunate part of being part of the Brotherhood is watching bad movies. Perhaps I should be more specific. I don’t mean the bad movies we love to watch, I mean skin- withering, orifice irritating ass floggings that cause physical pain and discomfort. Sure, lots of movies make you wish you could be put out of your misery but, to go one step further, there are some movies that make you want to hurt other people. I Spit On Your Grave is a good example of that. My anti-redneck venom was at an all-time high after ass pillaged by that movie and if I would have run across someone listening to Charlie Daniels I would be writing this from a maximum security facility. Even more diabolical than movies that make you want to hurt specific groups of people are movies that make you want to spill the blood of any poor soul that crosses your field of vision. That sweet old woman trying to step over that mud puddle, the little kid enjoying his first kiss, the homely couple on their first date, any one of them is a danger after a certain type of movie. Pinocchio’s Revenge is such of movie. The story begins with a hard-working single mom who is working her yuppie ass off to defend a man on trial for murdering his own child. Back home she has a young daughter named Zoe who is having a hard time at school with bullies and doesn’t get to see her mother enough. You see, Mom is busy juggling Zoe, a boyfriend, and her busy work schedule so she leaves Zoe in the car of a foreign housekeeper most of the time. Zoe’s birthday is coming up, and in an amazing coincidence, this is the same time Mom is bringing home a giant marionette which the killer made for his son before he killed him (I guess I’d better say “allegedly” killed him or I’ll have Johnny Cochrine barking down my snorkel). Zoe mistakes the dummy for a birthday present and becomes inordinately attached to the little wooden bastard before Mom takes it back to the office. Zoe loves Pinocchio, though. It seems Pinocchio is attentive, sensitive, and supportive, all the things you usually get stereotypically gay friends for. Before you can say “which one of you bastards turned it to the Lifetime Network?” Zoe’s tormentors begin to suffer horrible accidents. First the girl picking on Zoe almost gets run over by a school bus, then the boyfriend takes a pleasure leap down the basement stairs. Zoe tells her therapist that Pinocchio is killing them, which of course he chalks up to inner demons borne of whatever she happened to be suffering from. All this time Pinocchio (in a fucking irritating voice that ruins any chance of the dummy being scary) is filling Zoe’s head with ideas that if they get rid of mom’s distractions Mom will have more time for them. Has Pinocchio been possessd by the soul of the executed murderer? The soul of his dead son? This is where the movie goes from irritating to infuriating. In the climax of the movie Pinocchio goes after Mom, who throws it through a glass coffee table. Keep in mind that it’s dark. When Mom goes over to survey the carnage she finds the fallen body of Zoe, who’s been doing it the whole time. Pinocchio was what a C- freshman psych student would call a front for her hurting insides which have been scarred by not being hugged enough by her mom. So there we are. The loathesome pricks tricked us into watching a Lifetime Original Movie by disguising it as a shitty Child’s Play ripoff. The movie’s message for us: children are being harmed psychologically by single mothers spending too much time in the work force and not enough time listening to their children. All Zoe needed was a kiss and a hug and for someone to be there for her. Now, movie, I’ve got a message for you: I fucking hate this movie and everybody that had anything to do with it. To illustrate, here’s a list of things I’d rather do than watch Pinocchio’s Revenge: 1. Be donkey punched by Mike Tyson and have him wake me up to listen to his dirty talk. 2. Dust my weiner in powdered sugar and present it to Rosie O’Donnell. 3. Drop my wedding ring in Joe Don Baker’s underpants and have to go after it at the same time he put in his favorite porno. 4. Drink every drop of urine (from the tap) of an average college frat party after a triple keg. 5. Have my dick slammed repeatedly in my car’s hood and then rub the poor thing in the acid leaking from the battery. 6. Be jackhammer raped while being forced to orally pleasure every construction worker in the state of New Jersey. 7. Have the Dolphins be excluded from the playoffs by a bullshit pass interference call, oh wait, that already happened and I’m still very bitter. Is it just me or are the New England Patriots on some sort of sexual pleasure for good calls exchange program. Do you Raiders fans out there get the Snow Job last year? Tom Brady must suck a mean dick. Get the picture? That said, I want the producers to know that their pathetic attempt at making a indemnification on society through art failed completely. If I ever meet the director, yes I’m talking to you Kevin Tenney, I’m going to jam Meredith Baxter Birney straight up your ass and rain blows upon your face with every ounce of energy I have. You fucking arthouse pussy; you deserve to die horribly and to have your immediate family watch for this movie alone, and making Witchboard isn’t helping your case (I took Night of the Demons into consideration but you still deserve to die). After the last breath of wretched existence is pounded from you I’m going to tie strings to your arms and legs and drag you down Wall Street from a low-flying airplane. Consider that my little statement through art. Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think? Let this be a warning to any aspiring arthouse directors out there planning to make a social commentary and disguise it as a horror movie. Direct that bullshit at a audience I’m not a part of or I’ll come looking for you.
Brother Fistula: After writing this review, Fistula forgot to tell us what he thought of the movie. Since his review made me smile and put pictures of poorly- drawn childrens' drawings in my head, I'll assume that he was all about this flick and give it a four and a half from him. Wheeeeeeee!!! Brother Ferox: I'm right on top of this one. Everyone else [being Ragnarok] is all "Whoa now, I won't put up with that", but then I'm all "Fuckin' bring it, Pinocchio!! I enjoyed Rumplestiltskin, and I'm not ashamed to say so. Bring the motherfucking pain!! xxx
Brother Ragnarok: Haven't seen it, don't plan to. I hate every one of these damn direct-to-video piles of shit that came out around this time period. Well, except Leprechaun, that is. At any rate, DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE FUCK OFF. No, not you! Dammit! Come back and read more stuff! I meant the people who made this movie! Ah, shit, you probably left already anyway. In that case, we'll just talk viciously about you and your close relatives behind your back. That dude smelled funny. Did you guys notice that? And what the hell was that thing on his lip? It looked like a small, hairless gopher. Wierd. I'll bet he thinks about being breastfed while he masturbates. A little known fact about Pinocchio: After being returned to Gepetto, he was sold into a depraved child-sex slavery ring where he was forced to use his nose as a buttplug. [Ferox's note: Buttplug]
