Turbulence 3: Heavy Metal

I don't know where to begin.  This fucking movie.  First of all, watch it.  I definitely recommend it.  It's so...words...escape me.  1999's Turbulence 2: Fear of Flying starred Craig Sheffer.  2001's Turbulence 3: Heavy Metal stars Craig Sheffer as a different character.  And immediately, my mind is violating itself with skewers and brochettes.  He plays a thirtysomething hacker dressed like a fucking teenager, and his favorite rock star is performing his final concert on a 747.  It's being broadcast online, so Hacker Dude taps into the feed, accessing every camera installed on the airbus.  Meanwhile, fucking Gabrielle Anwar is an FBI agent inching closer to imprecating Hacker Dude for, y'know, hacking.

MEANERWHILE, a fucking Satanist kidnaps and masquerades as the rock star.  He commandeers the plane, shoots the co-pilot and makes his intentions clear.  His intentions?  To open the gates of Hell by crashing the skyjacked dirigible in fucking Kansas.  This fucking movie.  Let me back up and discuss the rock star, a poor man's Marilyn Manson by the name of Slade Craven.  If you thought Black Roses was cheesy, well, you're right, but Turbulence 3 is impossible.  We get to see a full performance of a Slade Craven number.  Imagine a studio executive's idea of paint-by-numbers Goth aggro-industrial muzak, and imagine Hot Topic groupies squirting over every histrionic lyric.

Actually, you don't have to use your imagination.  Click HERE!  Was it everything you expected and less?  Here is what I'm struggling to comprehend.  The real Slade and the fake Slade look identical.  Body type, bone structure, fucking phonetic elocution...for the love of jizzum whistles, it's the same actor!  And yet, we are told that they are not related.  Fake Slade is just a random whackjob.  Do you care if I spoil the ending?  The pilot - fucking Rutger Hauer - turns out to be a member of the Satanic cult.  He commits suicide, which leaves Real Slade to his own devices.  He must save the day!  I don't want to reveal every idiotic detail, but suffice to say, the last five minutes are too fucking much.

Turbulence 3: Heavy Metal is dumber than a bassinet of monosynaptic unicorns.  All foam, no beer.  One spade short of a royal flush.  I think you get the picture.  However, I had a stupid blast with the fucking thing.  It's nowhere near boring, and it gave me belly laughs when I needed them most.  You won't believe these next two sentences.  Anwar, Hauer and Sheffer headline another 2001 airplane thriller.  It's entitled Flying Virus, and it's about killer bees on a plane.  Motherfuckin' killer bees on a motherfuckin' plane!  These fucking movies!  Jizzum whistles!