Let me just start off by saying that I consider my review of Bikini Bloodbath Christmas my Christmas gift to you. Now you don’t have to watch it yourself, because I’m going to dash any hope of enjoyment you think you’ll get from watching some mostly nude, relatively unknown porn stars prance around a house decorated for the yuletide season. Sure, Debbie Rochon gets a really quick part in this, as well as a cameo from Lloyd Kaufman; but I’m convinced that by now, both of them will do anything to get in a film nowadays.
If you’re unfamiliar with the Bikini Bloodbath series, let me get you caught up: there have now been four films about bikini bloodbaths, each of them set in a different scenario so that directors Jonathan Gorman and Thomas Edward Seymour have ample room to recreate the same plot in different settings. All of them deal with a man named The Chef, a killer who, in every movie, hacks and slashes his way through a bunch of scantily-clad women who use about 0.5% of their brain capacity. There’s been a bloodbath at a carwash, a bloodbath at Christmas, and in 2013, even a Shakespearean bloodbath.
It’s easy to see how these movies could have some sort of fanbase; I’m sure there are many dudes who are afraid to buy porn in stores, so instead they opt for something like this softcore “movie” to get their rocks off. Unfortunately, this is only horror in the sense that you’ll constantly be checking the runtime to see how many more minutes need to tick off the clock before you’re done with this pile of shit.
Shit is a good word, too, for Bikini Bloodbath Christmas, because the directors seem to have a fascination with it. No less than three scenes of shitting are present in the film; there’s a scene where literal shit sandwiches are served, there’s another classy scene where Sapphire (Sarah Dauber) pisses and poos, and then bleeds, into a toilet, and the piece de resistance occurs when Gina Davis (Phil Hall) has the urge to blow so bad that he shits out a window, complete with a fake hairy arse pouring pudding out of its poop chute before getting a hammer shoved in.
You can probably see now that Bikini Bloodbath Christmas is the epitome of class, but if I haven’t made that clear yet, let me elaborate. Gorman and Seymour’s script is crass and gross in a Troma-esque way (their intentions, I’m sure), but that doesn’t excuse the deplorable way they treat their women. These girls are here for eye candy, and they know that. But that doesn’t mean that the dialogue should be so purely misogynistic. It’s played off for laughs and hayucks - haha, “cunt” is a funny word to call people, haha the girls are only here to show off their tits, haha calling a girl fat when she’s clearly not is now the high point of comedic genius! - but there’s definitely a feeling that, whatever the intentions of the directors, it’s not to make the girls of Bikini Bloodbath Christmas stand out as strong characters. It’s to get the male audience watching to see them as stupid sluts good for their bodies only, to foster the “dudes are better, so you should take your tops off” chauvinism.
BUT THERE’S CHRISTMAS. Sort of. Bikini Bloodbath Christmas looks like it’s set in someone’s unfinished house, or maybe it’s a porn shooting location based on the rolls and rolls of paper towels in the kitchen. A lot of work has been done to create a magical air of Christmas - there’s a strand of garland haphazardly thrown up on the windowsill, and a Santa Claus battles it out with another poorly costumed gent in a pool to decide who will be the real Santa on the block. And I really hope you like awful heavy metal with Christmas themes, because you’re going to hear a lot of it, sometimes repitiously! You’ll hear holiday greats like “Rudolph the Red Nosed Freak,” and then you know that a lot of time and hard work was put into making that song. It truly is a delight.
When writing a Shitmas review for Shit Movie Fest, part of me actually wants to recommend Bikini Bloodbath Christmas to you. If you’re reading this, you might actually like terrible movies in a hate-watching or drunken-stoned watching sort of way. If that’s the case, I think you’ve hit the motherlode here, because you have this and three other movies to marathon. And if you’re in that surly kind of mood that Christmas can often bring, whether it be because of the massive amounts of money flying out of your wallet or the in-laws hogging your house, then Bikini Bloodbath Christmas is a great way to get your frustrations out by hurling insults at the people who thought to make not one but three sequels to this pile of shit.
Watch the Full Movie on Youtube!
- Ryne Barber