Bloody Murder 2 (2003) Film Review 2/5

I love it when I get to review sequels to movies I’ve never seen. Sometimes, you watch a second flick and it really makes you want to see the first. Sometimes, you watch a second flick and you realize that you should just eat a bullet and get it over with, because you have no life, no job prospects, and no way to shave your own back without help. This movie is more of the second time than the first, but that’s not saying BLOODY MURDER 2 doesn’t have its fair share of good points that keep it out of the gutter.

Those good points are the ones on the ends of Angela’s (Tiffany Shepis, yum) breasts. You see, she and her motley crew of camp counselors are there to close down the camp for the year. Of course, years before, there had been a series of brutal murders committed by Trevor Morehouse who was pissed off about something. Tracy (Katy Woodruff), her boyfriend Michael (Kelly Gunning), their friends Elvis (Ray Smith, a black guy), Sophie (Amanda Magarin), gothic slut Angela, and Angela’s summer fuck interest Ryan (Tom Mullen) all get roped into coming back to close the camp down by their creepy and lustful boss Rick (Arthur Benjamin). You think Tracy would know better, considering her brother disappeared in that very same camp five years ago.

Thankfully, they don’t fuck around with a lot of stupid plot. People start dying almost immediately. Unfortunately, they make you wait for the tits, but they’re totally worth it.

A lot of movies in this genre really skimp on the gore and practical effects, but not this flick. The gore comes fast and furious, with some awesome death scenes. There’s an arrow in the neck, skull-bashing, throat slashing, naked shower stabbing, leg-chopping, and all kinds of great fun in this bitch, but it’s not all grits and gravy.

This is one of those many post-SCREAM self-referential flicks, yet in this movie, while the characters know that the black guy always dies first in horror movies, none of them know enough of the contentions to, you know, NOT FOLLOW THE CONVENTIONS TO THE LETTER! If you’ve going to have your characters wax philosophically about horror films, then don’t have them be the BIGGEST fucking IDIOTS in moviedom. Seriously. The one good thing you did to fuck with convention was not kill Elvis first.

And another thing. B-movie makers everywhere, pay attention to me! DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES HAVE MORE THAN THREE SWERVES AT THE END OF YOUR MOVIE! Seriously, this is one of those movies that sets up the boyfriend as the possible killer, then the boss, then about 5 other people, then all of a sudden, in the stupidest fucking plot twist ever, the killer from the first movie Trevor Morehouse, who may or may not be Tracy‘s brother in disguise.

I swear to God, this movie had more stupid swerves than WCW under Vince Russo’s stewardship. If you don’t watch wrestling and don’t get that smarky reference, let me say that Vince Russo is the world’s worst writer who always had stupid and pointless twists in every storyline he spun. The bastards behind this movie are graduates of “Vince Russo’s Writin’ School for Fuckin’ Morons Wit’ Big Spawldingz.”

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