They Don't Cut the Grass Anymore

Title: They Don't Cut the Grass Anymore
Rating: 1.5/5
Genre: Horror
Starring: John Smihula, Adam Berke, Mary Spadaro
Director: Nathan Schiff
Duration: 70 mins

Before I get started, let me tell you: I know I have bad taste. I, myself, consider it "aquired," but I'm grounded enough in reality to know when the stuff I watch isn't exceptional in the least. I'm not very discriminating when it comes to my favorite genre. With that out of the way, this is Long Island no-budget horror filmmaker Nathan Schiff's obscure 1985 gore flick.

Billy Buck and his silent brother Jacob are Texas gardeners working in the suburbs of Long Island, New York. Fed up with the Northern "yuppies" and their ignorant ways, our heroes literally tear them (and their fashion magazines) to shreds with their bare hands. That is, when they're not watching blaxploitation films at the local cinema.

You might think the above synopsis is the film in a nutshell, but in fact this IS the film. No subplots, no character development... hell, there's no protagonist! Instead, what we have here are three things. The first being one gory-ass movie. The death scenes make up the bulk of the film's running time and they are all very extended, going on for minutes and minutes. This film is also a blatant satire of suburbia and the rich, snobby, self-absorbed yuppies who live there. Lastly, for what it's worth, this is the quintessential backyard horror movie, as the majority of it was shot in actual backyards.

There is a whole mess of things that are bad about this one: extremely low budget, elementary acting and direction, an almost complete lack of story, overwhelming pretentiousness, half-assed dialogue, etc, etc, etc. How this got a respectable DVD release is shocking. It was shot on 8mm and had to have cost less than $5,000. However, this is MY review. And being the indiscriminate viewer that I am, I can easily look past these trivialities. This is a pure gore film, a gore film that totally delivers. The splatter and make-up effects range from papier-mâché quality to I-think-I'm-gonna-hurl quality. Ironically, the most disgusting scene has nothing to do with peeling the faces off of young women, but is when Billy Buck is eating from a can of raw beans. Don't ask me why, it's just very hard to watch.

When you're like me, there is much fun to be had and appreciated when sitting through this schlock. The dialogue, for example, is silly if not outright hilariously delivered (unintentially or not, who knows). You'll find it a challenge to not laugh (or stare dumbfoundedly at the screen) when Billy Buck says "I'm not gonna rape you, bitch! You smell like fish. I never did like seafood." Despite the satire involved, the makers knew exactly the kind of fare they were putting out.

So, if you're in the mood for no-budget mindless slaughter, by all means seek this one out. But if you want to keep your friends or reputation, by all means just watch Se7en.

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