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Grandpas. Sometimes they can be the best. Sneaking ya some extra treats before dinner, handing off some cash for toys and presenting that comforting and warm perfect image of a family patron. Sometimes though, they may act all kindly and poppa-ish but they’re really the leader of a Satanic cult with a penchant for murder. Guess which category our elderly pop-pop falls into here. We know almost immediately as his own daughter seems horrified he’s been in contact with her son and when her husband heads out to say something to the old man, he ends up spellbound and then set on fire. Elderly twenty-something Tommy Drindel is set for a Halloween night coming of age courtesy of his grandfather and the local coven of dopes under his leadership. They’re lookin’ to set up the manipulated youth as their new leader of all things evil. Like most twenty-something metal heads, Tommy calls his mom’s unfurnished basement home which he pretties up with a floor mattress, weight bench and wall art consisting of car and movie posters and beer signs. The ultimate sad bachelor pad for angry man-babies! Simple enough setup but things soon fly off the rails into a trash-tinged loveliness that only the eighties and plentiful mounds of cocaine could allow. Female-fronted hair metal act D.C. LaCroix (who I assume, the beverage was named after) is there to conjure a satanic voodoo woman with animated lightning who shoots lasers out of her eyes and perform some true bullshit tunes while transforming cymbals into shrunken heads. That’s what eye lasers are for! She also atomizes the band with eye lasers before decapitating the day dreaming Tommy after transforming his axe-shaped guitar into a trident. I’d name my spicy water after them too. Someone dressed up like a large-headed demon on his way to a business meeting is roaming around the neighborhood and knocking off various dopes (Tommy’s siblings and their friends and anyone else who just happens to be around) as nearly all of the female cast shows off their hooters. Grandpa lays on a slimy southern charm that is quite charmless and probably has him legally prohibited from journeying within several hundred feet of grade schools. Toupees, incest, POV grandpa smoochin’, satanic butt tattoos, worrying mamas, cemetery sexcapades, magnificent dumpster gore, branded buttcheeks, a mid-party “comedy” act that involves extended turkey impressions, tan lines, grandpa clothes under satanic robes, sad pumpkin-lighting and a Halloween party that is just about as awkward as any Halloween party I’ve ever been to. It’s Heaven built on the wrong side of tasteful and festering with enough brain rot to make every bit of dullness completely worth it.
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