Imagine the dumbest person in the world. I'm talking about someone so stupid, you'd be afraid to leave them alone with ice cubes and a spork. Now imagine this colossal moron making a movie so cheap it would make Ebenezer Scrooge look like a free-spending fool. I'm talking about a movie that its budget appears to be the same amount of money the average person would pay for the green-grayish fungus growing around the crotch of Courtney Love. Now imagine this stupendous idiot filling his poor excuse for a film with actors so terrible they look, talk and move more like animatronic puppets than real human beings. I'm talking about performers so hopeless they couldn't play dead if you shot them in the head, set them on fire and ran over them with a steamroller. Do you have a picture in your head of what that sort of production would be like? Now believe me when I tell you that the movie you're thinking of would be like a combination of Gone With The Wind, Singin' In The Rain and Star Wars when compared to H.P. Lovecraft - The Tomb.
This unholy abomination was written and directed by Ulli Lommel. I reviewed another film of his called Zodiac Killer. You can find it in my review archives. That movie was so atrocious, I honestly think watching it more than once would make you sterile. And yet this film is even worse. It's more clueless, more inept, more boring, more confused and more of every possible bad thing you can think of. Based on these two chunks of cinematic excrement, I would urge every nation on Earth to pass a law stating that if Ulli Lommel even looks at a video camera again, severe genital trauma will be inflicted on him.
This cringe-inducing excuse of a story concerns a generic blonde (Victoria Ullmann) and a bald, fat guy (Christian Behm) who are trapped in a warehouse which looks like the underside of the bleachers in a high school gym after it's been decorated with what was left over after a fire destroyed one of those Spencer's novelty shops you see the mall. They've been trapped in the warehouse by a killer who apparently modeled himself after the Count Floyd character from the old SCTV show on television. 6 other people show up from out of nowhere, mutter a few lines of dialog that could have been written by a retarded dauschund, and then die out of what appears to be a lethal combination of shame and embarrassment at being in this beyond crappy film. As generic blonde and bald, fat guy try to save themselves, the movie randomly cuts away to images of a woman in a white, plastic mask riding on a horse. And no, I'm not being sarcastic. That actually happens.
After everyone else is dead, the killer lets the generic blonde go. She gets in a convertible, drives to a motel room and starts reading a book. The killer than walks through the door and demands the generic blonde have sex with him or he'll take her book away. Again, I'm not being sarcastic. She responds to that demand by beating the killer to death with a lamp, which is what you'll want to do to Ulli Lommel after watching the first 5 minutes of H.P. Lovecraft - The Tomb.
There is no possible way anyone ever thought that anyone would ever find this movie entertaining in any way. Which means committing it to DVD and shipping it out to video stores where unsuspecting people could rent it is the moral and ethical equivalent of fraud. In a just world, the folks responsible for that would spend the next 15 years in federal prison getting rammed up the ass by cell mates named Bubba and Leroy. Alas, we do no live in a just world.
Now, some fools might read this review and want to watch this movie to find out if it's really this bad. Don't. It is that bad and if you need to indulge your perverse curiosity that much, go see what happens when you glue your penis or clitoris to a George Foreman Grill and plug it in.
This unholy abomination was written and directed by Ulli Lommel. I reviewed another film of his called Zodiac Killer. You can find it in my review archives. That movie was so atrocious, I honestly think watching it more than once would make you sterile. And yet this film is even worse. It's more clueless, more inept, more boring, more confused and more of every possible bad thing you can think of. Based on these two chunks of cinematic excrement, I would urge every nation on Earth to pass a law stating that if Ulli Lommel even looks at a video camera again, severe genital trauma will be inflicted on him.
This cringe-inducing excuse of a story concerns a generic blonde (Victoria Ullmann) and a bald, fat guy (Christian Behm) who are trapped in a warehouse which looks like the underside of the bleachers in a high school gym after it's been decorated with what was left over after a fire destroyed one of those Spencer's novelty shops you see the mall. They've been trapped in the warehouse by a killer who apparently modeled himself after the Count Floyd character from the old SCTV show on television. 6 other people show up from out of nowhere, mutter a few lines of dialog that could have been written by a retarded dauschund, and then die out of what appears to be a lethal combination of shame and embarrassment at being in this beyond crappy film. As generic blonde and bald, fat guy try to save themselves, the movie randomly cuts away to images of a woman in a white, plastic mask riding on a horse. And no, I'm not being sarcastic. That actually happens.
After everyone else is dead, the killer lets the generic blonde go. She gets in a convertible, drives to a motel room and starts reading a book. The killer than walks through the door and demands the generic blonde have sex with him or he'll take her book away. Again, I'm not being sarcastic. She responds to that demand by beating the killer to death with a lamp, which is what you'll want to do to Ulli Lommel after watching the first 5 minutes of H.P. Lovecraft - The Tomb.
There is no possible way anyone ever thought that anyone would ever find this movie entertaining in any way. Which means committing it to DVD and shipping it out to video stores where unsuspecting people could rent it is the moral and ethical equivalent of fraud. In a just world, the folks responsible for that would spend the next 15 years in federal prison getting rammed up the ass by cell mates named Bubba and Leroy. Alas, we do no live in a just world.
Now, some fools might read this review and want to watch this movie to find out if it's really this bad. Don't. It is that bad and if you need to indulge your perverse curiosity that much, go see what happens when you glue your penis or clitoris to a George Foreman Grill and plug it in.