psychoticpleasures2004

Let me set the record straight, first and foremost—I am an enormous fan of the horror genre. I have never had more fun with any other type of film. There is nothing that I enjoy more than kicking back with a good scary movie.

I'll be honest. When I first heard about "M-S-P," I was a bit apprehensive about seeing it. Some of the reviews I'd read on its graphic content made me wonder if this was a film I should sit through. After all, this *was* the film titled the most "graphic and disturbing horror film ever made." I finally got my hands on an uncut copy a few months ago. I sat back with a good friend of mine and popped the disc in. As the film progressed, the two of us began to chuckle. Those small, child-like giggles soon turned into full on hysterical laughter. "M-S-P" is a film so laughably bad, the two of us couldn't believe our eyes.

What is called the most graphic and disturbing horror film ever made is nothing more than gore for the sake of gore, violence for the sake of violence, and vicious bloodshed for the sake of vicious bloodshed. That's not what the two of us found so funny. What we found so incredibly hilarious was the fact that this film was ever made in the first place. Who could've possibly been behind this pathetic drivel? Then, I stumbled upon the homepage and MySpace of writer/director Nick Palumbo. Oy vey. Where to begin? This is a man so positively hellbent on making a name for himself, it's actually downright sad and most of all, pathetic. Most of the hype around the film comes from him himself. *He* is the one calling this film shocking, disturbing, graphic, violent, terrifying. *He* is the one responsible for the public's knowledge about the film's content. *He* is the one claiming film labs refused to print it and the set was intruded upon by uniformed officers brandishing rifles and guns. He *wants* more than anything to go down in the books as the most controversial horror director in history.

If those are your aspirations, fine. If you have the talent to back it up, wonderful. Sadly, he does not. What he presents the audience with is a weak script that goes basically nowhere. There is no story arc, there is no character development, there is nothing but bloodshed. Most of the dialogue in the film makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. It is an incredibly poorly written script that must've been only about twenty pages long upon its completion. Mr. Palumbo does not care about story. He does not care about dialogue. He does not care about creating characters an audience can identify or even sympathize with. When a new character is presented, he or she (mostly she) is simply killed off. That's it. Time to move on to the next scene of vicious bloodshed. I felt absolutely no remorse for any of the characters getting the axe because they simply were not believable. This film contains some of the stiffest, forced performances I've ever seen, most of which came from Sven Garrett.

I read an incredibly poignant, smart, and honest review by film critic John Fallon that perceived the film as a "'Look at me, look at me! 9-11 footage! Look at me!' opus." Very true. Mr. Palumbo desperately wants you to look at him. He wants you to believe the film is all of the aforementioned adjectives. He wants you to believe he himself is sick and depraved. He is not. The film is not. It's just another pathetic film that tries way too hard and simply does not deliver.