Really Awful Movies

“We herd sheep, we drive cattle, we lead people” is a phrase attributed to General George Patton, but what about cattle of the upright, bipedal variety?

Human Cattle is the brainchild/co-creation of Rabiddog Films and our pals, The Butcher Shop FX Studio (for an interesting listen, check out our interview with Carlos Henriques, The Butcher Shop’s practical effects creator).

According to Human Cattle’s synopsis, “The Amazon is a beautiful place to visit but you wouldn’t want to die there,” which assumes the conclusion that there’s a place that exists you’d actually want to die (maybe in bed…at 100?)

And further, “Three sexy teenagers take a fun-filled trip out to the Amazon for an exciting getaway filled with seductive pleasures and forbidden desires. Failing to hear the canoe tour guide’s warnings…”

Human Cattle stars Zane Watson, an IFBB bodybuilder whose motto is, “My body is not a work of art. My body reflects the art of work,” statements which are at least half-true were they applied to the authors of the Really Awful Movies site (we’ll let you guess which statement).

This one also co-stars Mitch Markowitz as well. Markowtiz is the brainchild of Hilarious House of Frightenstein, a plucky Canadian Vincent Price-starrer which became an unlikely, long-running smash Canadian TV show.

Human Cattle has got bazookas and a little person with a shotgun. If that’s not an appetizer enticement for the main, we don’t know what is.

[If you’re interested in a full discussion of the Netflix series, You, check out the You episode of the Really Awful Movies Podcast!]

It’s tough to make a show about writers. We’re generally dull people, but besides that, externalizing an internal process…that’s fraught with issues, meaning lots of cheesy voice-overs of bad writing.

There’s a disproportionate number of movies about writers, because writers know about writing and think what they do is really important, when it really pales in comparison to, oh, neurosurgery.

Which brings us to You, a Netflix Series that’s got the glossiness of Melrose Place, and its brain too, depending on your perspective.

Guinevere Beck (“Beck”) is an MFA student with aspirations of holding down a John Updike New Yorker gig, or maybe becoming the next Robert Pinsky. Problem is, she’s neither inquisitive nor creative, procrastinating like it’s everybody’s business and with a work-rate to rival JD Salinger. Speaking of whom…one of Beck’s friends is a distant relation to Mr. Catcher in the Rye.

Beck crosses paths with dashing Joe (pictured), a literate Midtown Manhattan book store manager who can match her with verse and is no slouch in the flirt department.

Soon, they hit it off, but paranoid Joe stalks her immediately, gazing into her palatial brownstone walk-up (seriously, if this is what passes for student-subsidized housing in New York City, I can reasonably expect to rent a 1,000 square-foot dorm). This then escalates into social media stalking, admittedly not too difficult as both Beck and her cadre of friends are so self-absorbed they could double as infomercial sponges.

What Joe sees in her is anybody’s guess, and where You keeps you guessing is that it’s not the usual “if I can’t have her, no one can” boilerplate. Instead, Joe is more than happy to play the long-game to wait out a revolving door of sub-par lovers before he can tee off.

There are some fun subplots where our charming stalker stepdads a neighborhood boy on his stoop, and there are enough references to good writers to let the occasional sloppy writing pass.

Pure, sugary junk, this Netflix show is oddly enjoyable even if its writers have already painted themselves into a narrative cul-de-sac in the first season (no spoilers here).

*** (out of 5)