Rating: 1/5
AKA: Dead & Breakfast - (Not Proud of that One)
Watch Here:
Sources at the bottom
“Bullshit that’s what that is! That’s a perfectly good car!”
Ah fuck fellas, looks like our hot streak of reviewing decent films has come to an end. 🤡
I say that with a heavy heart, as there is some charm to be found with a few of the characters in Funeral Home.
Even reminds me of some of the folks I grew up around back in the day.
Especially this special guy here, having neighbors like this was cool homie.
But fuck man, that sentiment is quickly lost.
Not even the natty titties could keep our attention. Not gonna lie this shit was putting us to sleep faster than Terror at Tenkiller, and that’s saying something.
At least with Tenkiller, we had a dope ass soundtrack to help us ease into a nice nap. In Funeral Home there's no real catchy tunes, or inspiring incidental music. I mean there is some fucking music here but it’s the shit that gets rejected from Sega CD FMV games.
Funeral Home (1980)
A young lady arrives in town to assist her grandmother with running a Bed & Breakfast out of an old Funeral Home. People begin to disappear, and all signs point to something running a foul at the newly created tourist home.
Look tough cats, I wont bullshit you. This movie is basically Psycho ,but with the grandmother slipping into the role of killer by thinking she’s her deceased husband.
She killed his ass after he had an affair and mentally checked out after that.
A low rent shit heap of a movie.
This was a mega kick in the balls, it’s fucking rough.
Not the worst we’ve ever seen, but godamn. Just imagine putting rophynol in a blender with a Rockstar energy drink and peanut butter, and you’ll achieve the exact effect that you would if you watched this trash.
DO NOT USE THE ABOVE INGREDIENTS AND MIX THEM, YOU PLEBBER!
-FINAL WORD-
MRHELLBOX – What’s bad is I wanted to like this man. As we previously mentioned, some of the characters at the beginning of the movie set you up to think this might turn into a dope ass ride.
But little do you know, its just the bait to lure you into a shifty looking, rusted van. Where you are to be gagged and bound while enduring this abortion of a film. That’s why I hate it so much. Fuck Barry Allen Productions, you bitch. – 1/5
SCHLONG LONG – Typically I like to talk about how I would do the boot scoot boogey with all the nice "Fresca's" in a movie, but not here lads. There is only one piece of hot trash ready roll, and even she’s not viable until a few cases of Steel Reserve have been consumed.
Even that Mario looking freak that was tagging her, bailed as soon as daylight hit her proper.
That said, I’d still bust her off the fucking rails boyeee! – 1/5
DRUNKEN MASTER – Steel fucking Reserve? That’s dollar tree booze you buy when you barely have money in the couch cushions. The same place they found money for the lighting budget in this mother fucker I assume. - 1/5
PRINCE PECTORAL – No plebber’s your eyes do not deceive you, I am now known as Prince Pectoral, sans (s) on the end of my name. I’m still waiting on the albino incest rats to regrow pieces of my eaten peck on their collective backs, and until then I must live with the shame of losing to Tor Johnson in my time traveling adventure.
I should have went back and fucked Vampira or worked out with the fellas from the Golden Era of Bodybuilding…
Im not bitter….
Not like this movie which leaves you feeling like 2 batteries have had sex in the back of your throat, exploding their acidic love juice all down your protein chute. - 1/5
Sources
All images were clipped by me from https://archive.org/details/PhantasmagoriaTheater-FuneralHome1980525