Troll 2
Review by The Film Fiend
Though you may watch hundreds of thousands of motion pictures over the course your pathetic little existence, there are just some films you simply cannot forget no matter how hard you try. For many, that may be a timeless classic such as Casablanca, or perhaps a life-affirming epic like Schindler’s List. Others may be quick to champion the likes of Star Wars, or even Raiders of the Lost Ark and its handful of sequels. Childhood favorites are often fondly remembered, as are films which spoke to us at certain points in our lives, forever cementing themselves into our cinematic consciousness. How incredibly deep and profound!
However, if you’re an ever-blogging loser not unlike myself who prefers the company of Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama to anything by Steven Spielberg or Akira Kurosawa, that unforgettable celluloid experience just may be Drago Floyd’s Troll 2. Make no mistake about it, folks: Troll 2 is as hideous and limp-wristed as they come, a withered abortion of a motion picture left to rot in a forgotten back alley dumpster. But God help me, I’m in love with it to the point of utter fascination. In my humble opinion, dear readers, it’s the best worst movie ever made. No joke!
And I’m not ashamed to admit it to the world!
If you’re unfamiliar with the genius that is Troll 2, behold this handy-dandy synopsis: Young Joshua Waits (Michael Stephenson) and his mildly dysfunctional family have decided to partake in a sort of country-fried summer vacation, an extended holiday quite unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. Instead of booking a luxury hotel and venturing off into some candy-coated theme park filled with sexual predators in furry outfits, they’ve made the questionable decision to swap houses with a creepy redneck family in the small town of Nilbog. The whole thing seems incredibly shady, and it doesn’t take long for things to get a little weird. Scratch that — VERY weird.
Guided by the ghostly visage of his sage-like Grandpa Seth (Robert Ormsby), poor Joshua begins to notice some very odd behavior from the bizarro citizens found roaming the streets Nilbog. Using an assortment of icky green food to poison their would-be victims, these vengeful vegetarians literally devour any poor soul who accidentally stumbles across their sleepy little township. What’s a spoiled suburban boy to do? Armed with Molotov cocktails, bologna sandwiches, and a full bladder that’s just itchin’ for some pissin’, this impossibly whiny brat and his melodramatic kinfolk will lock horns with a low-budget army of repetitive goblins and their corn-obsessed queen.
And if you’re unsure which one is the queen, keep an eye out for the creepy old goth chick with the mouth full of sores.
Troll 2, for those curious parties, has absolutely nothing whatsoever in common with the first entry in this unintentionally silly series. It doesn’t even have any trolls to speak of. Instead, we’re presented with a small squadron of cheap-looking goblins armed with sharp twigs, gnarled branches, and whatever happens to be lying around the forest at the moment. Suffice it to say, there’s little in the way of genuine horror to be found anywhere in this utterly warped picture, a fact that will immediately rub most genre fans the wrong way. What it lacks in chills and thrills, however, it certainly makes up for in outlandish comedy, an endless supply of quotable dialogue, and some of the worst performances you’re likely to witness outside of a kindergarten talent show.
The actors — who seem to be a good-natured group of random individuals — obviously studied their craft at the Ovaltine School of Hammy Acting; the end result is nothing short of astonishing. The dodgy talent behind the camera, meanwhile, apparently spent their nickel-and-dime budget on moth-eaten Halloween costumes discovered in the fifty-cent bin at some crazy old lady’s weekend yard sale. Listing every single laugh-out-loud moment would be an impossible task — there’s simply too much insanity on display for this goofy blog to contain. Even if you have no interest in wretched cinema, you should strongly consider investigating Troll 2 for yourself. Be sure to invite some of your alcoholic friends over, too. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.
The best part of the entire film is probably its mind-blowing twist, which shows up about an hour into the production. It’s essentially the most shocking revelation in cinematic history, one that will mutate your malfunctioning membranes and loosen your peanut butter-encrusted bowels. When the secret of Nilbog is finally revealed for all to see, there’s a solid 90% chance your entire head will spontaneously combust. You’ve been adequately warned.
If I actually had readers who weren’t as deranged as I am, perhaps my glowing praise for something as genuinely awful as Troll 2 would smear my obscure reputation. But that’s the beauty of being widely unread: you can say whatever the hell you want without the fear of public scrutiny or ridicule. Drago Floyd has crafted one sorry excuse for a motion picture, but God help me, I love his silly pseudonym to death for it. Any self-respecting fan of trash cinema should already have this title in their growing collection. If not, I’m sure someone out there is more than willing to lend you their cherished copy of the coveted MGM double feature. And not taking someone up on their hospitality is shameful, just shameful.
Because you can’t piss on hospitality. I won’t allow it!
Popularity: 6% [?]
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