A William Shakespeare quote opens things up: “Like (As) flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport.” Opening with a quote from King Lear gets ya nice and ready for the SOV artistry which is about to explode all over your stupid face. Of course, instead of taking the quote as the depths of helplessness man is sunk in thanks to a world that’s completely played out in a realm of chaos, it’s taken quite literally here. But the filmmakers were all youngsters with a dream, so metaphor was far from their line of vision. It doesn’t matter. Because in the end it all means the same damn thing: we’re all fucked anyways. A dark magician created a twisted game sometime in the Dark Ages where random players are forced to compete unbeknownst to them and if they don’t come out on top, their souls are forfeit. Two dudes sit at a kitchen table and after answering a knock at their door, some silent idiot dressed like a street tough from a Ninja Turtles movie and rocking what has to be the most disturbing mullet in film history, let’s himself in, drops a package on their table, stares them down and leaves. The duo of dorks brush off the weird encounter, open up the box and discover a container with game instructions. Because they’re morons, they recite the passage and begin the competition. A cryptic warning is recited and instructions mysteriously appear where there were no instructions before. After being informed to assemble six players, they do just that and gather a gaggle of idiots to their modest suburban home. Cue a montage of drinking (Busch, Bud Dry), laughing (awkwardly making eye contact with the camera) and stifled conversation. But I guess it’s just a haphazard way of barely introducing some characters who will be playing the game. Let the games begin! Everyone is transported from the cozy living room into a bizarre dimension (aka the woods adjacent to your friend’s basement where you lost your virginity) where they’ll all be facing different devilish experiences. The man with the disturbing mullet shows up again and inflicts some nasty violence, confessions are made and harsh truths are accepted. A chainsaw chase eventually leads to death by car hood, Doctor Rattlesnake is introduced to an unexpecting and undeserving world, some guy who looks like the forgotten brother of Crispin Glover’s cousin does a bad Bobcat Goldthwait impression, in-camera effects are abused and a dream-like vibe is presented through a budget that could just barely afford off-brand Doritos™. Mullet-man (D.J. Vivona) is the greatest thing to happen to SOV cinema since the Polonia brothers decided to deal with whatever twisted sexual hang ups were going on in their teenage brains by making movies. He overacts, underacts, shouts bullshit and dishes out cheap and bloody ends to all the assholes thrown into a world where the familiar rules don’t apply. The early output of Eric Stanze is stellar, he’s one of the few backyard artists who was able to successfully express his ambition. It was still cheap and presented with less than professional actors but somehow it all came out as something truly special. I haven’t watched what he’s done in his later career but I’ll chalk that up to not wanting to ruin his “trilogy” of early experiments. I’m glad The Scare Game fits comfortably in with Savage Harvest and Ice from the Sun.
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