I’m sure that by now you have slavishly read your copy of SPACE SQUID cover-to-cover, lingering often on the ad for Bikini Blood Bath.
Nearly every review you read for Bikini Blood Bath uses the word "dumb." I don’t think that’s fair. A better word would be "retarded." Bikini Blood Bath is flat-out, totally, absolutely genius retarded. In all honesty, I would say that Bikini Blood Bath got an LOL seven or eight times.
Yes, there are bikinis. Yes, the corn-syrup and food-coloring flows freely. Yes, there are naked boobies.
Bikini Blood Bath is about a group of high school girls (every last one of them in their twenties)who have a slumber party while a psychopath in a chef’s hat stalks the neighborhood. And where do the bikinis come into the plot, you may ask? Well, I don’t want any spoilers, but let’s just say there’s a hottub involved.
This is the sort of movie I would make if I had access to a digital camera and naked boobies.
The soundtrack is all hard-pumping guitar-squealling rock from the Connecticut band White Ligar.
You can catch their video on their myspace page. White Ligar does for 80s hair-rock what Bikini Blood Bath does for 80s sorrority-slaughter movies. For those of you who lean a bit glam, they have a helpful and informative make-up tips page.
I just want to thank directors Jonathan Gorman and Thomas Edward Seymour, and the executive producer Bruce Danger Seymour, for sticking to their principles and making this totally retarded film.
If IMDB is to be believed, they’ve got two sequels already in the can. I’m not surprised. Bikinis and blood mean limitless creative potential.
