As trashy as Bleeding Hearts is, I can’t deny that I was totally entertained.
Tony Todd’s intro appearance is completely irrelevant to the rest of the film—and doesn’t even do much for the movie-within-a-movie from which it comes. Bleeding Hearts opens with a bizarre Christmas religious satire movie also featuring a couple of bearish boys…
and Charles Durning as Santa. WTF? Charles Durning is doing low-budget exploitation flicks now?
Anyway, this seemingly pointless footage is sprinkled throughout the film because it turns out the director is one of the male victims of…
The “sisters.” Bleeding Hearts is simply about a town in which every year for a month, a group of hot babes goes on some sort of secret “vacation.” At the same time, a group of men in the city mysteriously disappears, never to be seen again. The locals seem oblivious to the connection. But someone is catching on. Dustin Diamond.
Yes, fricking Screech is doing an investigative documentary on the situation. Poor Screech. If I didn’t know he’s such a repulsive asshole in real life (thanks, Celebrity Fit Club), I’d find him pretty dang cute and worthy of a long career in crappy b-movies. He’s perfect in this film.
Anyway, aside from occasional interviews Screech conducts with townsfolk, the movie focuses mostly on the girls torturing a group of handsome, shirtless men on a stage in an abandoned theater.
There’s foot bashing, toe clipping, ass pegging with a steel pipe cleaner, dick and face rape, stabbing, and cactus torture.
While it’s all very brutal, the tone is over-the-top camp with hot babes and shirtless guys! How can you go wrong? I must confess, the babes and their psycho diva attitudes had me laughing quite a bit. The only part that fucked with my head psychologically and forced me to turn away—simply because I hate needles—is a drawn out scene of them injecting their young pretty boy victim with a host of liquids: beer, hot sauce, nail polish remover, urine, ammonia…. You get the picture.
To ease the pain of that scene, we cut back to the Christmas movie as a bearded cutie, Charles Durning, and a flamboyant queen (fricking Angel from Rent!) play poker, with a picture of Randy Jones from the Village People in the pot. Turns out, God loves Randy Jones. And so does the gay guy, who happens to be the devil—a cliché the film pokes fun at. Oh…and Randy Jones fricking makes a cameo!
As for the main plot, this offensive piece of trash celluloid ends up delivering quite a few devious and delicious twists! And wait until you see what becomes of Dustin Diamond’s character. Either my tastes have hit rock bottom or this torture porn comedy was absurdly fun. I don’t want to ponder either option.
Sounds fun!!!