"Vicious Fun" self-aware fun for genre fanatics

 

Vicious Fun (2021)

The premise of “Vicious Fun” could doubly function as a horror critic’s biggest dream and worst nightmare. Writer James Villeneuve and director Cody Callahan (2021’s “The Oak Room”) clearly have a reverence for ‘80s horror, their premise—a horror journalist practically enters his own horror movie—so niche that it couldn’t possibly be imagined by anyone less than a true-blue fan. Though it's vicious when it needs to be, "fun" is the name of the game for "Vicious Fun," which is as amiable as a horror-comedy can get with serial-killing 12-steppers and intestine strangulation.


A half-grating, half-endearing Evan Marsh, sporting a Marty McFly vest, plays Joel, a deputy assistant editor for horror magazine “Vicious Fanatics” in 1983. He has arrived home from a cut-short interview with a director about his latest slasher when he expects to hang out with his housemate and crush Sarah (Alexa Rose Steele). She’s just gotten home from a date with Bob (Ari Millen), a Camaro-driving, sunglasses-wearing-at-night creep whom Joel happens to spot putting a wedding ring back on his finger. Cut to Joel following Bob to a Chinese restaurant, interacting with him at the bar, and getting plastered out of his mind. After last call, Joel ends up drunkenly stumbling into the middle of a support group meeting. It turns out to be for serial killers, and Joel tries (read: fails) blending in with them, which doesn’t quite work out when Bob happens to be one of them. What could possibly go wrong?


From the off—before its synth-drenched hot-pink title card—“Vicious Fun” subverts the classic stalk-and-slash scene. A creepy man (Joe Bostick) driving a station wagon offers a ride to switchblade-wielding, leatherjacket-clad badass Carrie (Amber Goldfarb) at a motel phone booth in Minnesota, but who will kill first? Carrie may be a serial killer herself, but she’s hunting them and does insinuate herself into this “circle of trust,” until possibly becoming Joel’s savior. While not enough, the script pokes a little fun at critical journalists, rightfully not letting Joel off the hook. Coming off a little smug while interviewing a director in the editing room, Joel seems to think he can make a better slasher film but would rather just criticize (he’s tired of “slow-moving killers” and the trope of characters investigating a noise outside). One amusing idea has Joel giving his advice that a cab driver would make the perfect killer in a movie, only to have it debunked in front of the support group by Bob, who immediately smells the lies. 


The filmmakers do have a little fun with the rest of the killers—mass murderer Zachary (David Koechner), cannibal chef Hideo (Sean Baek), and Jason Voorhees wannabe Mike (Robert Maillet)—but two stand out among the bunch. Genre veteran Julian Richings creeps around in his clown makeup as the brilliant but emotionless Fritz. With ace comic timing and perfect bug eyes, Ari Millen is a lunatic cartoon as Bob, an identity-changing pickup artist and a homicidal maniac. His jukebox dance is hypnotic and insane, his act as a mustached detective makes him look and sound like Jeffrey Combs, and just wait and see what he can do with two pencils.


“Vicious Fun” is a self-aware goof, not really going for scares but never shy about the red stuff. Without going as meta as it probably could have in places, it at least stops short of patting-itself-on-the-back indulgence and getting too inside baseball. When Joel and Carrie are arrested, the mustached cops—like in a lot of ‘80s horror—get to be either useless or doofus comic relief. One of the officers who either has his nose in an issue of “Vicious Fanatics” or a container of Chinese lo mein even gets to school two detectives on the horror genre and sub-genres. “Vicious Fun” is enthusiastic without being as drop-dead funny as it finds itself, but it is fun to watch it try as clever catnip for genre fanatics who know suspense from surprise. 


Grade: B -


Shudder is releasing “Vicious Fun” (101 min.) to stream on June 29, 2021.

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