Three on a Meathook directed by William Girdler, Starring Charles Kissinger (1972).
Reviewed by Michael Hauss
Reviewed by Michael Hauss
Let me start off by saying that I own the New Horizons Incorporated VHS of this film. This VHS release usually sells for around forty dollars on EBay. I have a pretty strict policy with my VHS tapes and that is when the value rises and there is an alternative way to view it, I no longer watch the VHS in question. I have a long history with VHS, I worked at a video store when I was pimply faced, mullet adorned psychopath. I would hide the new release horror films from my coworkers and take them home to view before they hit the shelves. They hated me at that video store because I was going through an odd stage in my life where I was always gassy from the mass number of drugs and alcohol I indulged in. I could belch out smoke from the furnace of hell, sending small cinders of post-apocalyptic distress falling upon the heads of my co-workers! My beloved co-workers loved me so… they wrote Asshole on my name badge in Sharpie, shit in my lunch pail one time and stole the wheels and basket from my three-wheeled senior citizen special bicycle, that I rode to work for over a year, even peddling through a blizzard daily in the winter, eight miles both ways to get to and from work.
|I used to work with that shitbird Mike, he deserved the TV hat that killed me.|
Even as a gassy-fuck from the pimply edges of hell, I hated this fucking film like Barry Manilow hates the Carpenters! I got you there, didn’t I? You never knew, that The Carpenters, Karen and her brother Buzz hated Barry Manilow and vice versa, did you? It’s the truth and how I know this is my friend Vince who used to put cigarettes out on his arms, told me between clenched teeth as he dabbed another butt out. What he told me was that Karen and Barry fought over a pair of elevator shoes, the famous designer Wilbur of Paris had made in gold lame. They used to be friends and shop together, until that fateful day when knives were drawn and Karen all sixty-seven pounds’ pile drove Barry’s head into the carpet over those damn shoes. Those fucking shoes that ruined a friendship are now buried in a dump in Arizona or some other place next to the Atari ET games and that fake Statute of Liberty from Star Trek!
|DON'T FUCK WITH THE CARPENTERS!|
I bought a copy of THREE ON A MEATHOOK off eBay from a company who sells the shittiest quality VHS transfers to DVD on the web, Desert Island Classics. I could tell I had definitely upgraded when after the funky 70’s soundtrack started and the title card appeared, the tape fuzzy at the bottom of the screen started up and the trademark tape lag set in.
Four girls decide to ditch their boyfriends and go for a weekend on a nearby lake. They do some skinny dipping and partying, then on their way home their car breaks down, and a nut job named Frank picks them up and takes them home where he lives with his father, which is in the middle of nowhere. The Father tells Frank that he has killed and will kill again, blaming him for killing the four girls that night, The Father may be the killer, but you won’t know until you suffer through eighty-minutes of eye torture from this badly filmed pile of trash. The film is another in a long line of films that were based loosely on the notorious Ed Gein, with THREE ON A MEATHOOK borrowing somewhat from another Gein inspired film PSYCHO. The film quickly kills off the four girls and after Frank is accused by his father of the crimes, he goes to town to have a drink at a bar where a large funky band is playing 70's cheese and meets a woman and an unlikely romance blossoms, all is well until he has to take her home to meet Daddy-O
Anyways this movie sucks and is pathetically inept in every way. The camera work on this film is god-awful, as is the sound, soundtrack and acting. Amateur hour all the way around and besides a few bits of blood letting the film is slow and shitty. This is William Girdler’s second film and he would get better on the technical side, eventually directing a few competent films including SHEBA BABY, ABBY, GRIZZLY and MANITOU, his first film ASYLUM OF SATAN is also a technical mess.
Like this film I am technically fucked and flawed right now. I am lost in a world of apathy and this movie did nothing but add to the apathy. I am surrounded by sadness that is swirling around in my world, which used to be larger but has shrunk down and fallen into the gutter. Now and then I think about the past and when things used to be different, but now I feel lonely in my own company. You can never feel the lowness that this point has reached, love lost can destroy solely, but this lowness and loneliness is now universal.
|probably what Chef Boyardee masturbates to.|