KILLER KLOWNS is my New Religion

Just by looking at this movie’s title it may surprise you to learn that you’re already 16 words into this review and at least 10 of those words weren’t “bung.” Honestly, I am at a complete loss for words. All I know is what I saw, so I’m just going to walk you through what I spent last night watching and let you try to wrap your head around it yourself. Before you read the following paragraph, understand that none of the words in it are made up, and all the scenarios described happened in the same hour and a half.

A spaceship shaped like a circus tent crash-lands in a rural town. Out of that tent emerge four 8-foot tall blood-drinking clowns and one midget clown who terrorize the townspeople by, in order of least rad to most rad:

- Shooting them with popcorn.
- Turning them into cotton candy
- Punching their heads off.
- Turning them into puppets.
- Eating them with shadow-puppet dinosaurs.
- Throwing pies at them.
- Watching them shower.


If you try real hard and believe in yourself, you can maybe convince yourself that you can't see that arm in that Killer Klown glove.

In Disney’s The Black Hole, Dr. Kate McRae said, “Dr. Reinhardt is walking a tightrope between genius and insanity.” Killer Klowns From Outer Space is doing the exact same thing. I have two explanations for why I absolutely love this movie. The first: you know how, in races like NASCAR or the 1600 meter run, it’s possible for one of the guys to get his ass kicked so bad that if you look at the track it actually looks like they’re ahead? I think, on the scale of one to ten, Killer Klowns is so far below zero that it’s actually just above ten. The second reason is that I can’t make fun of it, for social reasons, kind of like how you just can’t make fun of “special needs” people. See? I can’t even bring myself to type "retarded." Damn my social conscious.

When I first saw the title I really wanted to hate this movie just so I could write that it was “Krap.” But I loved it. Something that annoys me more than anything are "club guys" (and "club girls," too, I guess) who try way too hard to make me think they’re cooler than they are and come off as unpersonable dumbasses who I hope Dennis throws up on at some point. On the other hand, I tend to gravitate to (and try to be) a person who’s not afraid to laugh at himself every now and then. Killer Klowns knows how Goddamned bad it is and runs with it, making it not bad-bad, but bad-brilliant. This movie is a damn blast. And everytime, after someone gets killed in an espically malevolent manner, a kick-ass gituar riff plays. Three and a half Jason heads. That extra half is because this movie was given to me by someone who actually had it in their personal movie collection. On DVD. When I gave it back to that person, I also asked that person if they would be so kind as to turn my water to wine and bring back the dinosaurs because that person was obviously God.

Okay…tomorrow’s review is An American Werewolf in London. I swear.

P.S. Personal victory: Last Saturday I finally got a phone number from a girl who I've loudly and liberally proclaimed to be hottest girl ever for the last two years, with the appropriately hot name of Kaitlyn. I’d go into more detail if I didn't think that everyone in Charlotte read Homemade Fireworks, but I’m pretty sure they do.