Midnight Meat Train

This was it, the movie that inspired me to start this blog and eventually my own website. I suppose that I should be thankful...

First things first, it's not a gay porn as you may have guessed.

It started off with a decent idea for a thriller. Killer hacks up bodies on the last train, takes them to the abandoned stop under the meat packing facility where he works, and takes care of the bodies. Not half bad and to the best of my knowledge it hasn't been done before. Despite the mediocre acting and the forseeable tragic end to the complsive do-gooder photographer main character, I was still pissed off at the various conversations that people thought were more important than my cinematic expierence. Everything took a dramatic turn for the worse with about twenty minutes left. Now bare in mind that the things that I found wrong with the film could have apealed to my sick love affair with shitty little horror flicks if only they hadn't been shoved down my throat so fast that I felt more like a recently violated sheep owned by a farmer that doesn't know that "baa" means no.

You get a little hint of this conspiracy that's been going on for about a centuary. This gets very weakly confirmed by a cop that is wearing the same symbol as the killer. The complsive do-gooder photographer gets his girlfriend involved and his best friend killed when he tries to take on the butcher (Vinnie Jones). I'd like to quote my brother on this, "Vinnie Jones would ruin your shit". This scrawny, underslept, night stalking, fried tofu sucking (not to say anything bad about veggies cause my girl would kill me) took on the butcher in a fight that included classic weapons like a butcher knife *duh* a pretty gnarly looking meat hammer and what apeared to be a broken leg bone. Sad to say, the do-gooder won (please refer to my brothers quote for statistical data on the chances of that happening) with the leg bone through the neck and the butcher knife through the back of the head and out the mouth. Then you find out that the bodies weren't being disposed of at the meat packing facility. They were being eaten by the hundred year old humanoid creatures that the "cult" has been covering for.

Let me say something about monsters, if you are going to show the monster, show the fucking monster! If you aren't, that's fine, but don't leave me with one view of a Hitchcock-style silhouette. It's just wrong. It's kinda like getting a side boob shot when you know damn well you paid for at least a whole tit. Well not really... side boob is sexy.

From there things get worse. The train driver, who you find out earlier is in on the "opperation" comes down and starts doing the classic bad guy reveals the master plan bit. Now I'm thinking that I might get a little happy ending warm and fuzzy right at the very end. Wrong. This driver picks up the do-gooder by the neck and lifts him straight up off the ground and rips out his tongue with his bare hand. The do-gooder sits there gurgling through the drivers worthless one note solo and then watches the as his girl gets fileted. cough cough pussy cough... I don't know about you, tongue or no tongue, I'm going to try to save my girl. She might leave me later cause I can't do that thing she likes anymore, but at least I tried.

Lastly, the driver reveals that the do-gooder has to stop taking nakie photos of celebs for The Enquirer cause he's gotta be the new butcher. AND HE FUCKING DOES IT!!! Just like that, new butcher. And worse yet, they left it open wider than a donkey show performer after the third act for a damn sequel. Last couple scenes you see num nuts putting on the SAME UGLY FRICKEN SUIT that the last tonguelss bastard was wearing...

The End *crosses fingers and prays there isn't a sequal*