"Near Death"

Stink Yard article #B4

Kill Count: 8

Reviewed by:

Giggles

Rating:

(1/2 outta 5)

I understand that Joe Castro makes films to showcase his special effects. Okay? I get it. And I also understand that some of his gore effects, while not exactly groundbreaking, are decent from time to time. But that doesn't save everything else that goes wrong with his films, nor does it excuse it.

I tried to get the worst image-quality possible for this screen capture.

In the last review I wrote on Castro's Terror Toons, I explained that, "I gave [The Legend of the Chupacabra] a HALF knife and this film ONE knife, so, I guess on the positive side of things, Castro's movie making has improved for me by double! I can't wait to see the fifth or sixth movie he does--- it may not even deserve to be reviewed at this site anymore."

...Ouch. How wrong I was about that assessment.

No, things have not improved with his Near Death. In fact, any theory about his movies getting twice as good has been completely crushed. As they might say in statistics, my Castro-movie-rankings have regressed to the mean.

I guess the one knife rating of Terror Toons was some sort of mathematical fluke.

The movie starts with a woman being kidnapped by a neanderthal Scott Stapp from Creed. I swear this dude looks like he belongs in a museum with a spear. Land of the Lost, Chaka-looking fucker! Anyway, he takes the girl to a house where, for a price, he hands her over as potential grub for a band of ghouls.

"Me Chaka want to touch big peach olive with clumsy, hairy-knuckled hand!"

After we see an opening scene that reminds us how much Castro loves characters pushing their fingers through latex skin and sticking berry jello into their mouths, we are introduced to the main characters, which are of no consequence either. For whatever reason, they seem to be ghostbusters of a type, but the problem is that in this film there's only one ghost and four ghouls. There's no reason for the characters to really be at this house, no good reason anyway. I could ruminate on this for a while, though I believe its best we move on.

Did everybody have a pen explode in their mouth for this movie?

The ghouls allow the trio of ghosthunters to stay over for the night. Already we have to call "bullshit" because nobody would accept an invitation from people with black teeth. Castro must have decided to leave out the questioning center in his characters' brains. I would have loved a scene where the main characters look at each other and say, "What's up with these peoples teeth? Something can't be right here." But nothing ever comes of this and the plot drags like a dumptruck's ass.

"Where ever did that bic go? I'm starved."

Note: Castro must not have wanted the Fifties Mama Ghoul to have black teeth because it would have diminished her sexiness.

"Remember you must not leave your room after midnight..."

"...And remember, all the pens are mine, so hands off!"

This girl better have a career in nakedness because acting ain't fer her.

A subplot starts oozing out of the corners of this sad slice of fuck, and we have one of our main characters becoming attracted to one of the ghouls. This certain monster has a mustache that defies gravity in every shot and is a sorry excuse for facial hair if I've ever seen one. Children, ladies, men, meet Don Diego Dicklick.

After the tramp and her ghoul are done hitting the skins, they begin exchanging dialogue that's as sharp as a spoon.

A hunk of burnin' ghoul.

This is the cutest heroine in a Joe Castro movie, but what a waste of a face.

The real ghost that presides over the house is one with an uncanny likeness to David Carradine. Don't ask, because I won't tell.

I guess the best way to look at this movie is, well, an analogy. If you were the the movie Near Death and someone walked up and said, "Hey, 1 + 1 is 2," you would think carefully, scratch your ass several times and then reply,

"Hmm, okay, but I'm gonna get a second opinion before I commit to anything."