NAIL GUN MASSACRE
The Battlefield Earth of slasher movies

  Well well well, here's a putrid turd from the depths of some slasher-flick colostomy bag.  Just when I was wondering how filmmakers could keep finding different ways to make movies bad, I dug up this.

Nail Gun Massacre opens up with gang rape, and after that, you know it's gonna be in the "You go, girl!" tradition of I Spit On Your Grave.  Or is it?  Some petite person with a nailgun, clad in black boots, ankle-to-neck camouflage gear, and a totally blacked-out motorcycle helmet (electrical tape appears to be used) is sticking it to the rapists, their girlfriends, and a few people just for the hell of it.  Could it be the rape victim enacting revenge?  Well, let's see - everybody who is dressed like this in the movies turns out to be a woman anyway.  The killer's voice is obviously electronically modulated, complete with echo on that evil laugh.  And for most of the film, two female stunt doubles were used to portray the killer.  Despite all this, there's a minor twist at the end, like it matters...

This movie somehow manages to be a few steps dumber than a lot of its kind.  One guy is killed by a single nail to the arm; maybe it was tetanus. Another guy gets nailed, and falls belly-first onto a burning barbecue, which starts to tip, until he (supposedly dead) balances himself.  Though you're not likely to regret missing lines like "Annie, you want a weiner with that bun?", much of the dialogue is drowned out by either totally unexplained "sprinkler" sound effects, or really awful music (especially that song about foozball). (to say nothing of the killer's terrible, sub-Freddy one-liners)

The characters aren't much smarter; not only are they unable to tell the difference between nailgun nails and regular nails, but their actions are hilariously stupid.  One hitchhiker, about to be nailed by the killer who stops for him, just cries out "No!  Please!" while standing there, shielding his face.  He could've taken one step to the left (just one step!) and moved completely out of range of the killer, but no.  Two construction workers, each armed with a nailgun, engage in a nail-blasting shootout, but they're just playing.  And the town doctor, who we're supposed to be believe is the moral, sensible center of the film, takes about ten killings and over an hour of screen time to figure out that there's a psycho on the loose.

As filmmaking, it's just what you'd expect.  There's one scene where a radio plays that foozball song twice in a row.  A disclaimer in the closing credits states "Any similarities between people and places in this film are purely accidental", which should set at ease the mind of anyone who thought that cast members in this film looked like Luxembourg or Sao Paulo.  Well, at least these illiterates remembered that nailguns need compressed gas to work; most movies with nailgun violence just have somebody picking up a nailgun and blazing away with it.

Lots of nudity, though, so I guess it can't be all bad.  It took two people to direct this shit, Bill Leslie and Terry Lofton (who can also be thanked for the script, casting, FX, production, and some stunts).  Recommended only to connoisseurs of really, really bad movies.  All others should know better.

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