The Film: The Necro Files (1997)
The Principals: Isaac Cooper, Steve Sheppard, Gary Browning. Directed by Matt Jaissle. Written by Todd Tjersland.
The Premise: Uh, let’s see… the unspecified town in the film is being plagued by a serial rapist murderer (Cooper). Two detectives, Manners (Sheppard) and Sloane (Browning), are after him, not just as cops, but because Sloane’s sister was a previous victim. They interrupt the killer’s latest conquest, and Manners goes off the rails, killing the scumbag. Nine months later a group of satanists sacrifice a baby – I believe the product of one of the killer’s rapes – over the dead killer’s grave, bringing said killer back to life as a zombie sex fiend. The zombie kills all but two satanists, then proceeds to pick up where he left off before. Only now he has a giant zombie penis. Meanwhile, Manners has continued going off the rails, doing lots of drugs and beating up thugs for no reason. Double meanwhile, the sacrificed baby comes back to life as an evil floating demon, seeking revenge on the two remaining satanists who killed it, plus on its father, the zombie sex fiend. Inane madness ensues.
Is it Good: Ha ha ha… No. For one thing the film is beyond low-budget. I presume it was shot on VHS or SVHS. It looks like the videos I made with my friends in high school, only with way more zombie penis, rape and general sleaze. The Necro Files – a title that literally doesn’t have any relevance until the post-script text block that concludes the film; seriously – is so profoundly juvenile, perverted and depraved that there is sort of a weird genius to it. Sort of. I’d like to make it blatantly clear that this movie is terrible, by any common sense of the word. But this also isn’t a so-bad-it’s-good film either. The filmmakers clearly know they’re making something stupid, which makes the film both more and less enjoyable. You can’t sit back and laugh, thinking, “Wow, these idiots have no idea…” Instead you can only sit back and potentially laugh, thinking, “Wow, what the fuck is wrong with these guys?” But I often equate being a film enthusiast with being a foodie. And just as a foodie may enjoy eating the occasional deep-friend cockroach just for the adventure, from time to time I enjoy reveling in the asinine dementia of a film like The Necro Files.
I could do without all the rape and uncomfortably subpar nudity, but the film has two things going for it: the evil baby and Manners and Sloane.
More than anything else the evil baby reveals that filmmakers Matt Jaissle and Todd Tjersland know they’re making something retarded. The stupid noises it makes as it flies around, attacking foes, and the simple fact that its is a doll make this blatant. The film actually hits a bizarre note of brilliance once the evil baby and the zombie sex fiend finally cross paths. But the baby doesn’t even show up until half-way through the film. There is a lot to suffer through to get there. Fortunately, we have the two detectives. There is something wrong with actor Gary Browning (on the left in the detectives pic below). He seems caught somewhere between Judah Friedlander’s character in American Splendor and an early 80’s porn producer. Even just his frazzled and ratty pony-tailed hairdo is astounding on its own. His monotone, barely sentient delivery is the perfect awful counterpart to the gonzo intensity of Sheppard’s Sloane, as Sloane spirals further into a drug fueled Bad Lieutenant riff. I want a gritty cop film starring these two, with no rapist zombies or flying babies. Just a straight action-drama. It would be amazing.
Is It Worth A Look: I find that hard to answer. If you enjoy subjecting yourself to shit like this, it may be a must see. If you prefer, you know, good movies, or at least bad movies that fall into the popular spectrum of “bad,” then this movie will probably destroy your soul — if you can even make it past the first five minutes.
Random Anecdote: There was actually a sequel. Necro Files 2. Presumably the title makes more sense now. I’m almost tempted to seek it out for some more Manners and Sloane. Almost.