The hero of the story, "Thrill Kill Jack", is a soldier of fortune who has his mystical gun stolen (by leaving his gun case outside a convenience store while he buys a newspaper) from him by a low-rent Aleister Crowley magician named Hale, who hides it away inside his vast mansion, which is simply crawling by his side-show gimp henchmen (who are all decked out in rubber masks and fake beards, many of them merely running around in their underwear, all making strange grunting and squealing noises). The gun was made from a mystical bow sacred to the "Shadewind" Indians. The gun must never be damaged or stolen or "misfortune will be brought upon many things". So into Hale Manor goes Jack, where he faces booby-trapped living rooms, tiny attic prisons and many side-show gimps, spouting really bad tough-guy dialogue all the way.
Thrill Kill Jack is by the same trio that made the impressive Everything Moves Alone, and perhaps they grew tired of making films replete with good taste and restraint. Thrill Kill Jack is about as restrained as a five-year-old on a sugar high (and often appears to have been made by such). It's b-movie filmmaking at its finest (well, perhaps "finest" isn't the right word - "most gleeful" perhaps?). The gimps all wear masks so they can be played by whoever showed up that day. In reality, there are perhaps only five different actors in the whole film, the writer and director among them. The special effects are goofy, the set dressing is shoddy - as the mansion is obviously comprised of the living rooms and bedrooms in the homes of the three producers. And as "Thrill Kill Jack", Phil Guerette, so commanding in Everything Moves Alone, looks more like a petulant teenager than a hard-bitten hero.
And yet it all works. Every bit of it. This is one of the most enjoyable party-movies to come along in a long, long time. Aransky keeps the scenes moving so briskly that there isn't enough time to be bored by it. You spend a great deal of time watching to see what insane piece of schlock they'll throw at you next. And there is at least one inspired bit involving a room full of molten lava, which Jack traverses hand-over-hand using the plumbing. Only to get to a locked door and determine that, in order to get the key, he must score 1,400 points on an old upright Space Invaders video game (called "Space Poopers" here, to avoid copyright infringement). (Hey there's even a cameo here by Carmine Capobianco, the genius behind Psychos in Love, so how bad can it be?)
The filmmakers are not taking themselves seriously here, and neither should you. The humor is juvenile - even infantile at times - but they're clearly having fun, and there's no reason you shouldn't either.
Visit the producers at their website at Hale Manor.com