Most Likely to Die

This cap-n’-gown horror had us mortar-bored. The title, Most Likely to Die also doubles as a box office prediction, as this is one stinker of a slasher.

A group of idiots gathers for a 10-year reunion at the sprawling mansion of an ex-NHLer, Ryan (recently cut by the New York Rangers — thank YOU newspaper headline exposition).

Unfortunately, Ryan is nowhere to be found. His leering caretaker — another red herring in a movie with so many you could host a Ukrainian buffet — lets them in.

So, what has this group of highschool-obsessed nitwits accomplished in the interceding decade? Well, among their ranks there’s a famous TV star, Brad (Ryan Doom); a brooding drunk, Freddie (played by celeb blogger scum-bag Perez Hilton, who if his weathered face is any indication, graduated from the group’s high school at age 30); and wanna-be poker standout, Gaby (Glee’s Heather Morris).

They along with other friends (including the one stuck in a life of small-town hell) hash out the usual happy reminiscences and petty grievances over beers, until one of them stumbles upon a plot device point-of-discussion: that kid who was bullied and who then committed suicide, and who was complicit in his untimely demise.

So, Most Likely to Die goes down the I Know What You Did Last Summer/Pledge Night road: victims who possibly deserved their fate.

They’re hunted one by one by demented killer, “The Graduate”, although Most Likely to Die definitely qualifies as GED, rather than summa cum laude horror.

As he goes about his gruesome business, he crosses out victims on a “most likely to” high school yearbook collage.

This one features a ham-handed cell signal explanation, a victim-on-display in lights (a la seemingly every episode of Criminal Minds), a chaste strip tease, and garishly slick cinematography. Half a star awarded for a spectacular hockey stick kill, a nice companion piece to the skate-blade in Halloween H2O.

*1/2 (out of 5)

[Listen to our podcast discussion of Most Likely to Die!]

Killer Crocodile

You know you’re in trouble when your POV killer croc title sequence is juxtaposed with the phrase, “the crocodile was created and built by _________.” Please, for the sake of whatever smidgen of suspension of disbelief we still have left, hold off until the closing credits, will ya?!

Killer Crocodile’s title (if not reputation) precedes it. As you might have guessed, it’s yet another um, killer crocodile movie with the distinction being that it’s got the best Search Engine Optimized name. And delivers on its title promise.

We meet an amorous couple in the tropics, the male half of whom must be some kind of magician as he gets high notes to come out of the bass string of his guitar as he gently plucks sweet nothings to his paramour. Within seconds she interrupts this intimate moment by doffing her top  and charging the beach like its Normandy. She frolics about, then waves, coaxing him to join her.

Next thing you know, she’s dinner.

An ecologist (who resembles Greg Sestero from The Room), his lab assistant, a local guide, a photographer (and their little dog too) are paddling through a swamp that’s apparently been poisoned by the local plant. One of them dons a bio-hazard suit and jumps into the muddy river, Geiger counter in tow, apparently to see if metal barrels clearly marked “radioactive,” are indeed so. Gotta admire their due diligence.

Radioactivity is the springboard, for, I don’t know…a thousand creature feature movies? And it’s a pretty good, if incredibly lazy conceit for screenwriters to fall back on.

From there the natural horror devolves into, “has anyone seen __________?” and the time-honored, “you don’t think something’s happened to her, do you?” Don’t worry…”

And there’s lots of speculation about why people are going missing, and washing ashore. At first the carnage is mis-attributed to a boating accident, which is extremely weird unless the coroner is a graduate of the Dr. Nick Riviera School of Medicine.

Killer Crocodile is another hilariously inept Jaws variant, this time Italian, so ergo the bonus of awkward, stilted ADR. Director “Larry Ludman” sounds suspiciously like an Alan Smithee alternative, but it’s really the pseudonym of Frabrizio De Angelis, Umberto Lenzi/Lucio Fulci collaborator, best known for the Karate Kid knock-off, Il ragazzo del kimono d’oro (The Boy with the Golden Kimono).

Chomp down on this one. It’s kinda fun. And tune into our discussion on the Really Awful Movies Podcast.

*** (out of 5)