Bikini Bloodbath Christmas is like a 71 minute cinematic root canal. Thankfully, the rampant nudity in the film acts as Novocain to numb you from the pain. It’s one of those flicks that tries in vain to capture the spirit of 80’s Troma movies (Lloyd Kaufman is even in it for Christ’s sakes), but everyone involved just wind up making asses of themselves.
The plot has “Chef Death” coming back to life and killing a bunch of people. (This is apparently a sequel to some other movie I missed along the way because it’s padded with flashbacks.) Some gals that work at a head shop gather for their annual Christmas party and the joint is predictably crashed by the killer chef.
Bikini Bloodbath Christmas strains for tasteless humor at every turn. Instead of making you roll with laughter, you just roll your eyes. There are “jokes” in this movie about everything from child molesters to rape. That is to say, there’s about ZERO laughs in this thing. Another attempt at “humor” is having some characters named after celebrities like “Geena Davis”. Then, there’s a guy in drag for no good reason whatsoever. Obviously, the filmmakers didn’t realize that guys in drag are only funny on Monty Python.
Some of the kills try for over the top outrageousness and mostly fail. One girl gets stabbed while on the toilet (I guess they were trying to outdo the shower scene in Psycho) and one guy gets a hammer shoved up his ass and his guts pulled out of his sphincter. The cast is wasted too. Kaufman and Rochon only have two scenes apiece (three if you count her flashback) and neither of them are able to breathe any life into the flick.
On the plus side, there is the nudity. Originally, I was going to give the movie No Stars but the nudity added an extra Half Star. There’s this one chick in particular named Monique Dupree who has one of the most amazing racks I’ve ever seen. She deserved the Best Supported Actress Award. Then there’s this bozo that goes around dressed like the Cyclops from Krull while he buddy brandishes a Glaive knockoff. They don’t really figure into the plot and aren’t very funny; but I’m willing to give the movie another Half Star because I’ve never seen such a gratuitous Krull reference in my life.
Other than that, Bikini Bloodbath Christmas deserves coal in its stocking.