KILLER TONGUE (1996)
Years ago, I read an interview with Melinda Clarke where she tried to distance herself from her horror roots. I can't cite specifics (I don't have the interview in front of me), but it's common knowledge that she made an effort to work outside of the genre after breaking through with Return of the Living Dead 3. Unless I'm mistaking her for some other quixotic starlet (and I'm not), she came across as...I don't want to say "uppity." Yes, I do. She came across as uppity (to give you perspective, this was during her incumbency on The O.C.).
Melinda, dear. I just watched Killer Tongue. How can you lay claim to such an overweening, supercilious cloak of conceit when you have tainted the good word of cheese with this cinematic vasectomy? Folks, I'm only using big words because I made a New Year's resolution not to toss "c*nt" around so freely. Too harsh? When it comes to b-movies, I hold grudges. I'll be a little nicer to the friend who recommended this film to me, although I should at least challenge him to a gimmick match at Wrestlemania. If it isn't obvious, I wasn't fond of Killer Tongue. What it gains in momentum with inventive special effects and witty dialogue, it loses with bleary lapses in logic and questionable decisions made behind the camera.
As it says in Mark 8:36, for what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? Did I just quote scripture in a review of Killer Tongue? Get on my level!
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