In 2007, two titans of modern cinema revived the Grindhouse genre of American drive in movie theatres and unleashed a double header of sleazy, trashy filth to cinemagoers. While Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof and (to a better extent) Planet Terror, from Robert Rodriguez, delivered a faithful homage to the video nasties of yesteryear, they maintained a cinematic style and gloss that just didn’t exist within true Grindhouse classics. Fortunately for those who favour the unapologetic shittiness of the genre, they do still exist, and Dear God No has spades upon spades of shittiness…but is that a good thing?
The film follows a group of murderous rampaging bearded bikers as they invade the family home of a disgraced Doctor only to find something sinister locked in his basement and an unspeakable beast in the surrounding woods. Simple? You bet your ass it’s simple, but the story isn’t the main facet of Dear God No, it’s the often-disgraceful depths writer/director James Bickert plunders to portray just how disgusting and low-life these bikers are. Before the film was shown to the colourful crowd that filled the screening I was in, Bickert himself delivered a recorded message and offered no apologies for what we were about to see. All he wanted was hollering, jeers and beers. He knows he’s not trying to make audience friendly movies you watch on a date with a Mormon; he thrives on the reactions of disgust and, as such, his latest effort demands to be enjoyed merely as a fun and grotesque crack at American Grindhouse cinema, and nothing more.
Make no bones about it, as a competent piece of filmmaking it’s awful, really really awful, yet somehow it manages to be hugely entertaining despite it’s glaring and frequent flaws. Everything you would normally judge a film is just bad. The acting, shot selection, sound and editing is honestly some of the worst I’ve ever seen in a feature. The bad performances might be acceptable, and even expected, but awkward framing and overly noticeable audio cuts litter the film throughout. And while shoddy filmmaking is a staple of the Grindhouse movement, Bickert takes liberties with the quality of the final film and it just becomes lazy rather than quirky. The make up and effects are often great though and very much in line with an 80s video nasty. Heads come off, intestines become exposed and that’s just the mild stuff. Bickert isn’t afraid to go to some dark places, and a large part of Dear God No is in a pitch-black abyss of bad taste. If you’re easily offended then do not even entertain the idea of watching this film, but if, however, you find the humour and charm in the Grindhouse, then there’s a lot to like here. I often found myself laughing at just how ridiculous it got, but then that’s the whole point isn’t it?
Yep…it goes there.
It’s difficult to say whether Dear God No is a good film or not; it’s poorly made, poorly acted and completely ridiculous…but then that’s what Tarantino and Rodriguez honoured with their love letters to the genre. Dear God No is funny for the right reasons and entertaining in its preposterousness, but despite this, Bickert does threaten to overstep the limits of taste on a couple of occasions. That might be his goal, I don’t really know, but when 15 minutes of an 81 minute film is a topless dancer with a Richard Nixon mask on, you can be fairly certain he ran out of worthwhile ideas quite quickly.
Dear God No is released on DVD on the 14th of January
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