All Rise...

Judge David Johnson is more that willing to be Tromatized so you don't have to.

The Charge

Brain cells—en garde!

Opening Statement

Tales from the Crapper is the result of Troma team's collective colon exploding.

Facts of the Case

The newest Troma studio release is infamous for its inanity. Lloyd Kaufman, president of Troma entertainment, refers to Tales from the Crapper as an "abortion of a movie." He is a speaker of truth.

A couple of years ago, the idea drizzled from the Troma big shots to put together a digital movie based on an online comic strip entitled Tales from the Crapper. A couple of amateur filmmakers were hired to create two shorter films, which would then be jammed together for the feature offering of Tales.

Unfortunately for Troma, which pissed away $250,000 on the project, the resulting footage was nigh unusable. The dialogue was muted and much of what had been filmed made zero sense. So Kaufman stepped in to salvage the movie.

New dialogue was recorded over the existing footage, extra scenes were shot, and Lloyd stepped in to play the role of "The Crapkeeper," the transition tool (along with copious lesbian nudity) for the two flicks.

Both films star B-movie/soft-core queen Julie Strain and her breasts.

The Case of the Melon Heavy Alien Man Eater
So this cheap looking computer-generated UFO crash lands near a strip club, and suddenly a bunch of murders start happening. Some guy gets stabbed to death with his own severed penis, another has a urinal cake crammed in his mouth and his brains stomped. Julie Strain plays a supercop whose main submission tactic is revealing her breasts, so perpetrators are lulled into boredom. She naturally goes undercover as a stripper, which leads to a bloody face-off with the killer, an extraterrestrial cricket-monster with huge cans.

Intermission
A fifteen minute interlude, with Lloyd Kaufman running around with a garbage bag on his head while a couple of topless girls make out.

Tuition of the Terror Twat
A wannabe college kid discovers to his dismay that he won't be able to pay for college. So, of course, he enlists the help of a couple of his friends to throw a stripper party in order to raise money. After charging a ridiculous amount of money to get in (way more than the cover charge and some G-string spending money would set you back at an actual strip club—not that I would know or anything), the guys invite some bodacious strippers (headed by Strain) who also happen to be lesbian vampires. After some superfluous, weirdly photographed make-out sessions, the vampires show up to the party—populated by horny teens, Eli Roth, Ron Jeremy, and Trey Parker—and massacre the attendees.

The Evidence

I've seen this movie previewed on every Troma disc I've had to watch—quite a few by the way; I have the therapist bills to prove it—and now it's finally here. Troma certainly hypes it as an epic ("Filmed in three countries, over three years, with six directors, fifteen writers, and cast of hundreds"), but what plays forth on your DVD player is a haphazard amalgam of unrelated Troma filth.

Which is okay if you're a Troma fan. Recognizing the idiocy of the films, Kaufman opted to just lay on thick all the breasts, blood, vulgarity, and body fluids he could muster. It's as if he's saying: "Okay kids, I fully recognize these movies suck donkey scrotum, but to make it up to you—lesbian vampires!!!"

What Troma vomited up for you is a disc full of eye candy of the lowest common denominator. The movies are nonsensical, and the titles, believe it or not, make them sound a lot more entertaining than they actually are. Each film is just an excuse to get star Julie Strain topless as often as possible, and also possibly get her tongue ensnared with those of other women. Throw in typical cheapo Troma gore gags—stabbings, eviscerations, decapitations, eye gouges, throat rips—and what you've got is a 90-minute peek deep into the subconscious of a fifteen-year-old boy.

Bottom line: If you're into things with low-brow humor, more nudity than most Super Bowl halftime shows, and buckets of fake blood, and you don't require any semblance of cohesion in your narrative flow, then it's possible you wouldn't despise Tales from the Crapper.

In an attempt to sweeten the pot, Troma has loaded the disc with extras. The feature includes two commentary tracks, one by Lloyd Kaufman and editor Gabe Friedman, and one with star Julie Strain and director Brian Spitz. Also, you get a behind-the-scenes documentary about the craziness involved with the entire project, where Lloyd is quite forthcoming about how much of a pain in the balls it was to make the film a reality (and how costly). And if you didn't get enough of Julie Strain's nipples, she gives you a topless tour of her house.

Remaining extras include some deleted scenes (honestly, the whole feature feels like one long deleted scene), the original web comic the film was based on, a cannibal lesbian hoedown music video, some trailers, and book and web spots.

For a digital film, Tales from the Crapper looks, well, crappy. The video is full-frame, and just looks like it came right from my home digital camcorder. Sound is a muted 2.0 mix, with the newly recorded dialogue contrasting sharply with the subdued atmospheric sound and more-subdued awful soundtrack.

Closing Statement

Don't say I didn't warn you.

The Verdict

Guilty of assault with deadly detached male genitalia.

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