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Smile Orange
A pocket-change-budget film production company based in Yorkshire UK. This troupe of eager, energetic and erratic fellows go by dozens of silly aliases like 'Parsley Sauce Face' and, in some ways, are like the Monty Python of filth, smut, trash and gore, except without the wit and the satire. Anything goes, and they'd go with anything. From fat wrestlers in bikinis, to splatter violence or kung-fu spoofing, to copro-humor and jokes on abortion, to a documentary on the street trash of England in drunken mating rituals as narrated by a stolen David Attenborough's voice. Completely unpredictable and unique; trash backed by insanity and energy. Underground British trash & gore comedy from 'Smile Orange'. It's as if Monty Python had given up their wit and satire and decided to just film a series of gross-outs instead, with a zany, anything-goes approach. The plot is enough to have most people scurrying for cover: Two wannabe-straight comedians are told by their local garage abortionist that they have a list of diseases as tall as them, and must get all their organs transplanted from their nearest relative whom they don't mind killing in the process. Problem is, they were always firmly against having children or relatives, and even aren't against popping their twin siamese girlfriends with a pin when they get pregnant. Just when all hope is lost, they are sent a ransom note by a vicious person who is keeping their son hostage, the offspring of an old gang-rape of theirs, and he is cutting pieces off him (including his lips, hence the title), until they pay him 2000 quid. This is just a backdrop for endless bizarre and disgusting antics in as extreme poor taste as possible, ranging from making jokes about diarrhea ('it runs in the the family'), to stealing wheelchairs and racing them down the road, random gory hand abuse, performing a chippendale dance in front of an angry mob, making tourists step in some abortion refuse, gorily fighting with their own doppelgängers and a rhino-man, and much more. It kinda wears out its welcome after 20 minutes with endless trash and difficult to understand accents, but it keeps surprising and bewildering its limited audience. The epic millenia-long battle between good and evil is depicted by these guys as yet another trashy & surreal series of completely random sketches revolving around wrestling. Wrestling was created by god on the fifth day after having sex with mother nature to create an inflatable child which believes that the evil wrestlers should win sometimes. Enter a current-day battle between good and evil wrestlers, using special wrestling techniques to 'fatline', or to travel through time and change history according to wrestling principles. David and Goliath becomes a trash-talking fiasco while Romans poop, and Hitler and Churchill face the ultimate battle aided by Amazonian female mud-wrestlers. There's a Q-Bert computer game wrestling match, a sodomizing bee, Robots equipped with "correcting" giant phalluses are thrown it at random, as well as dozens of other similar random, goofy and trashy things so you never know what to expect. Also included is a naked Nosferatu vampire with dangling penis in body-tights, a really silly wrestling spoof on Dracula, gory death by piano keys, multi-dimensional divine blow-up dolls, an epic final fight between every character from all history, and so on. Calling this 'wacky trash' is selling it short. Basically the Smile Orange version of Time Bandits, and with wrestlers instead of children. Overlong, 2-hour, trashy science-fiction kung-fu spoof. For the first hour it is mostly an unfunny kung-fu plot about a young fighter seeking revenge for his murdered family and training with the master Long-Pecker while the violent police chase him down. Except that they are all British in cheap costumes with voices dubbed over by themselves, and his family is killed by robot aliens (naked men with colorful & bizarre phallic or balloon appendages) that landed on the planet in a toilet-tent. Then the plot goes haywire what with sewer demons, teleportation that sprouts a new pair of arms, hand-to-hand combat with a monster papier-mâché penis, random drill-to-the-head-gore, and a battle with mutant aliens that look like a dozen people rolled around in a theatre prop-room covered in super-glue. Insane, but tiresome, too long, and lacking wit. |
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