Studio: Creepersin Films
Running time: 60 minutes
- “A Test of Our Stupidity: The Making of Frankenstein”
The loneliest, horniest simpleton on the planet decides to make a meat puppet inspired by his appreciation for old, un-copyrighted films. It’s essentially horror’s answer to The Room. The absolute wrong answer.
Creep Creepersin (director), James Porter, Nicole Nemeth, Kelly Kingsbury (actors)
Victor is an intellectually impaired chap living somewhat comfortably in a decrepit house with his pet rat Frankenstein. A general day for Victor consists of waking up, eating eggs, looking at smut, watching old movies and talking to his rat. Lonely and despondent, Victor starts hearing voices and seeks out companionship in the form of a woman he bludgeons to death and drags back to his home.
Using a black felt pen, Victor draws on some stitches and bolts and bam: imaginary lady monster.
The way I feel about Creep Creepersin’s Frankenstein is similar to my take on performing surgery. I respect the craft, I’m sure there’s a lot of hard work that goes into it. But I would never actually perform surgery on anyone. Not even if one of my friends really wanted me to. Admittedly, I know jack shit about surgery and would end up doing more bad than good. Similarly, Creep Creepersin makes movies.
A look at his IMDB page reveals that Creep Creepersin’s been hard at work since 2006, shitting out one film after another with tremendous titles like Vaginal Holocaust, Lake Death and my particular favorite: Orgy of Blood. This isn’t just anyone’s take on an old classic, it’s definitively Creep’s. Mainly because Frankenstein is public domain and he figured it’d be easier to sell. He admits as much in the special features.
The actual film mercifully clocks in at just under an hour. To give you an idea of what you’re in store for, let me spoil the first 10 minutes. Victor wakes up, walks down some stairs and brushes his teeth. He finishes (the camera is unflinching in these, the most crucial scenes) and eats some eggs, whilst looking at smut. Then he pets his rat, named Frankenstein, and feeds him some corn for about two minutes. At this point I started to wonder how Victor could afford things like eggs, smut, and corn for his rat. Who’s paying for this minutia?
The actual crux of the film is that Victor kidnaps a young girl, murders her and imagines her dead body as his companion. Their interaction is accomplished through her dialogue being presented silent-film style. There’s actually a lot of old film footage intercut throughout the film, probably given that their property rights expired and Creep was desperate to pad the runtime.
There’s a scene where Victor wanders around his farm looking at things quizzically and I began to wonder if we were really experiencing a poor man’s decent into Ed Gein-style madness, which I’d be totally onboard for. But no, Creep Creepersin’s unsteady (and, I’m assuming, sweaty) hand is there to remind us that no, this truly is one of the worst pieces of garbage ever made.
Look, I’m not going to begrudge anyone of following their passion. If you truly love film then you don’t have to be good at it to make movies. I’d be inclined to give Creep Creeperson a soft pass and appreciate the effort if I believed in any way that he actually had a passion for film.
Which leads me to…
Somewhat substantial, surprisingly. For starters, there’re two (two!) teaser trailers accompanied by a full-length one to really drive home the picture’s selling points. Second, there’s a 37-minute documentary entitled “A Test of Our Stupidity.”
The whole thing is shot on buttcam and you’ll get some truly stunning insight into the making of this picture by the director himself. There’s Creep (clad in frilly, ill-fitting goth attire) filming himself with his phone while driving, Creep eating a donut; and for well over ten minutes, Creep chain-smoking in a field and talking about everything from his time in jail, catching rats, and his attempt to grow stubble like Richard Greco’s.
You might have already gathered this, but Creep’s not the most articulate man in the world. When asked why he brought his revisionist prowess to such a heralded classic, Creep dutifully offers this little ditty: “The whole Frankenstein thing is kinda gay.”
From the mouths of babes.