I'll Kill You, I'll Bury You, And I'll Spit On Your Grave, Too!

Lava Lamp
Our rating: one lava lamp.

No information about this film in the Internet Movie Database
(yet -- our additions are pending).

From the title of the film, or at least the last half of the title of this film, many horror buffs would assume that this is some sort of unauthorized sequel to the infamous exploitation "classic" I Spit On Your Grave. The video cover, with its depiction of two axe-wielding women, apes the movie poster to I Spit on Your Grave. Any comparison between the two films, however, is unwarranted -- there are no hatchet-brandishing babes to be found here. I'll Kill You, I'll Bury You, And I'll Spit On Your Grave, Too! (we bet IKYIBYAISOYGT! was the super-cool acronym that was used to promote the film) is a shot-on-video piece of junk that somehow managed to find its way into our local video store.

What really made us want to rent this was the following piece of copy on the video's box:

The Squimish?

We couldn't help but wonder: who are "the squimish?" We're not sure, but we can make some guesses.

Maybe squimish is a nationality. Of course, they'd have to be from a country called Squim. Or Squimland, Squimania, Squimbia, Squimark, or maybe the Federated Republic of Squim. Maybe an expert on geography can show us where we might find such a country on the map.

I'll Spit on your Grave too!
No, no, she's not being killed. She's
being hauled away by the fashion police
for wearing so much blue eye-shadow.
Or the squimish might be a religion. We suppose they would worship the great God Squim. Or the squimish may be an ethnic group like the gypsies only more... well, squimy.

While watching I'll Kill You, I'll Bury You, And I'll Spit On Your Grave, Too! (hereafter just Spit) we had quite a lot of time to consider who the squimish might be. The plot moves slowly and the film features many scenes wherein bad actors speak perfunctory dialogue at each other. You could probably contemplate particle physics while the movie drones on -- without missing anything important.

Despite the provacative title, Spit is a standard horror-slasher type film with amateur actors. The film opens with a prologue that should take place in 1970, but features 1950s cars. We see a couple making out. (The couple is played by Gail O'Keefe and Tim O'Keefe. We fervently hope they're husband and wife.) Faster than you can say "huge bags o' saline" they're alone in a trailer and the woman is naked. As we've commented countless times before, nudity in the first scene is always an indicator of quality to follow. Before the sex scene can get too far beyond the limits of an R rating, a chainsaw wielding maniac bursts into the trailer and... you can guess the rest.

Cut to a present day setting. A group of "scientists" make their way towards a remote farm in what we guess is Michigan (they refer to "the Upper Peninsula"), but looks kind of like northern Florida. Maybe all bad movie locations look the same. Some of the usual horror-film stereotypes are presented -- Ben the take-charge head scientist, Shelly the slut, John the horny-guy with a camera (guess where that one's going), Terri the average-Jane girl, and the studious girl who, were this a Scooby-Doo episode, would be named Velma. Here, she's named Lisa.

I'll Spit On Your Grave Too!
"If she gets naked one more time,
I'm taking my camcorder and I'm going home!"
How do we know that Shelly's a slut? Well, she "makes whoopie" with Bob, the gas station attendant, in the station bathroom after a sexy come on involving toilet paper. Is that enough evidence for you? Should you find this movie in your local video store, you'll be seeing lots of Shelly. Lots and lots of Shelly. More Shelly than you would probably want, actually. Fifteen-year old boys take note -- rent this and The Toolbox Murders for one helluva slumber party.

After Shelly's pit stop, the Scooby gang -- we mean the Swingin' Scientists -- pile back into the van and make their way to the farm, which they keep calling a research facility. The bridge to the farm has been washed out and so the van (their only means of escape should they be attacked by, oh, a crazed killer or something) must be left a few miles away. After a quick discussion of the farm's history -- rightful heir to the farm returns from Vietnam to find it's been sold out from under him by his uncle, the uncle dies, the nephew disappears, blah blah -- they spend an uneventful night in bed.

The next morning, however, is not so uneventful. Lisa and Terri face down a misogynistic sheriff (who may or may not be the killer), John and Shelly hold a nude photo session in a nearby loft, Ben (who may or may not be the killer) familiarizes himself with the local bug population, and Terri is later gruesomely murdered while dealing herself some Tarot cards. Of course, her ultimate fate comes immediately after she places the Death card on the bedspread in front of her. Wow, we almost made that sound interesting. It isn't.

I'll Spit On Your Grave Too!
"All right, Shaggy -- if that is your real name--
you put down those Scooby Snacks very slowly."
John and Lisa are disposed of quickly thereafter. Ben and Shelly are kept prisoner in some nearby caves until (ta da!) Bob the gas station attendant, sniffing out a repeat of his tryst with Shelly, comes to rescue them. The killer's identity is thereafter revealed, and the final showdown fight takes place. Some live. Some die. Some mourn their acting careers, which have ended before they began. The end.

Shot on video and on a low budget, the film most resembles what might happen if a local news crew decided to do a recreation of a bad movie. We have the bad acting, the cheesy music (by Sean Carlin, with a big assist by his Casio synthesizer), and the "shot around town" locations. The only sign of a budget is the use of a wind and rain machine in some early scenes.

From the beginning of the film we had to try hard to stifle laughs every time one of the actors delivered a line. You could chop these actors down and build a set from Waterworld out of them. There are dead cats who are less stiff than these guys. This acting disaster is exacerbated in the scene where the characters arrive at the farm. In this particular scene the actors are obviously improvising their lines, but the fact that no one can come up with anything to say after Terri declares that she tripped and got grass in her teeth makes the scene uncomfortable.

In the sheriff's first big scene, he draws even more parallels between our heroes and the Scooby gang by telling them what meddling kids they are.

Sheriff: You smartass kids! Outsiders... sticking your heads in where they didn't belong!

He then stalks off with the words "I'll be back for you." Sure you will, buddy. Just as soon as the director waves another fifty bucks under your nose.

I'll Spit On Your Grave Too!
Bob searches desperately for a way
out of the movie.
Perhaps the most remarkable features of Spit are its unflinching use of nudity and the most explicit wood chipper scene to date. Aspiring movie makers, let us give you these pearls of wisdom:

  • Just because you can get naked, doesn't mean you should get naked.
  • If a character was supposed to have served in Vietnam 25 years ago, he really ought to be played by an actor older than 35.
  • Ground turkey is not an acceptable on-screen alternative to human flesh.

Unfortunately, the director of this film (Thomas Koba by name) has not learned these lessons, or any other horror-related tips. Shelly, who is only mildly attractive (at least her breasts are real) offers up lots of skin, apparently in lieu of any actual acting ability. The killer's identity, when revealed, made us laugh. And despite the video cover's promises of unbridled violence, most of the gore in this film is of the "red syrup dripped on people" variety.

Oh, and the squimish? If this film is anything to go by, we have found the squimish -- and they are us.

Rent or Buy from Reel.

Review date: 11/7/98

This review is © copyright 1998 Chris Holland & Scott Hamilton. Blah blah blah. Please don't claim that it's yours blah blah, but feel free to e-mail it to friends, or better yet, send them the URL. To reproduce this review in another form, please contact us at guys@stomptokyo.com. Blah blah blah blah.