Threw this on as a hail mary midnight film chaser with my pal nightofthecreeps, following some lame-o mainstream filler-thriller staring Helen Hunt. Forbidden Zone was a supremely inventive bit of barrel-scraping absurdist cinema that could best be described as what I'd imagine a live-action Fleischer cartoon to be if it were directed by David Lynch, written by John Waters and produced by Satan.

This was an absolute onslaught of offensive juvenility (thick-skinned need only apply) served over top a dingy…

The low budget and sterile aesthetic only grate when you have time to notice, which barely happens mind you, because you're too caught up in the moment-to-moment shenanigans that find our San Dimas world saviors and their most excellent daughters hopscotching across time and space to find their magnum opus and build the greatest band the galaxy has ever seen (whilst also avoiding every decision that would potentially destroy their lives). Jimi Hendrix, Louis Armstrong, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Ling Lun,…

Yikes, what a drop. Nevermind that buddy doubles down on the defense of some nasty ass people and some nasty ass viewpoints, but the shit ain't even that funny. Mostly it's just Dave cracking on the "audience" for cancel culture (which, I understand; sometimes it feels like there's no room for redemption), but he picks all the wrong people to prove his point.

Once we get past the first half, things pick up with some chuckle-worthy anecdotes on gun ownership,…

"Eveybody gets mad because, I say these jokes. What you gotta understand is this is the best time to say 'em. More now than ever. And I know there's some comedians in the back, motherfuckers you have a resonsibility to speak recklessly...otherwise, my kids may never know what reckless talk sounds like"

Don't let the intimate setup and smaller venue fool you into thinking this is the cool down; uh-uh. This is Dave heating up to some of the realist…