I saw Cabin Fever today, because I love bloody, gory horror. I'm now going to do anything in my power to erase that hour and a half from my mind. Electric shocks, blunt-instrument trauma, gin, clinical brain-death...Whatever it takes. It was so horrible. So very, very, very horrible. It wasn't horrifying. It wasn't shocking. It wasn't suspenseful. It wasn't remotely scary. It had nothing, I mean absolutely nothing, going for it. Just a bunch of characters you really, really wanted to die about a minute after you met them, who somehow managed to drag out their well-earned deaths a whole ninety minutes longer than they should've. It was so deeply, profoundly offensive...'Hey, these people are sick! Better smash 'em with a pick-axe! Har har har.' And the ending...Is that supposed to be a punchline? Is it supposed to be funny? Is it supposed to send some kind of message? I don't think so. It's just bad. Like the rest of the film. Utterly, utterly banal and uninspired, unimaginative, unjustified, unspeakable, devoid even of the low-level carnal joy blood and guts are supposed to bring in a horror flick. Just horrible people reacting in horrible ways to something not really horrifying, more sad. This is not entertainment; this is someone throwing up onto celluloid and calling it a film. This is someone's self-loathing and writer's block, for all the world to see. I am so angry I wasted those moments of my life watching that. I'm that much closer to death now, and all for what?

Go rent House of 1000 Corpses instead. Now that's entertainment. I couldn't stop laughing.

Grr. Anger!

Goddammit, there are real people with real problems out there. People getting sick and developing lesions aren't titillating. I should shove this whiny trite dull plague-paranoia flick up the director's ass.