After discovering a container of old, expired wine hidden away in his basement, a liquor store owner figures that there is still a chance that he can rid himself of the unwanted drinks. This method involves selling them for dirt cheap to the demented homeless people who frequent his establishment. There just seems to be one problem with this idea: once it is consumed, the drinker's body begins to violently react and lash out at itself. Unaware of its effects, the shopkeeper continues to sell what is effectively known as "Tenafly Viper," even as the body count caused by it begins to grow larger and larger. Eventually, the news of bums being found in melted, unrecognizable messes attracts the attention of a curious police officer, with the residents of the local junkyard also partaking in the purchasing of and investigation surrounding the hazardous liquid.
Okay....if you don't mind, I'm gonna need a minute or two to take a deep breath.
*inhale*
*exhale*
WHAT IN THE LIVING HELL DID I JUST WATCH?!
Going in to Street Trash, the only prior knowledge that I had of it came from an infamous scene involving an older man and the facilities that has been immortalized on t-shirts, posters, and oddball memorabilia around the horror community. It had all the traits and characteristics of a Troma Entertainment (The Toxic Avenger) release without actually being distributed by the company. Yes, the film company that put out fairly reprehensible motion pictures such as Blood Sucking Freaks had nothing to do with this one. Shit, all one has to do is just type the title of the movie into any search engine of your choice to see exactly what scene I'm referring to in the first sentence of my written thoughts. After sitting through the theatrical cut, which is sleazier than watching a pair of rednecks hit on their sister while she's dancing at a strip club, I can be thankful that movies such as Street Trash aren't really being made anymore in this day and age.
I am well aware that writer/producer Roy Frumkes (you have no idea how much I want to pronounce that as "Frunkis") set out to purposely concoct a screenplay that would offend every single type of person out there, and you can't certainly fault the man for trying, and in some cases, succeeding. The plot is not terribly important in the end, as outside of perhaps the two younger hobo siblings (one of whom appears to be a doppelganger for a character from another cult classic), you aren't particularly interested in these characters or any aspects of their daily lives. I would quite impressed if even the most devout of Street Trash fans can remember any of their names without referring to them as something along the lines of "trash heap bully" or "homeless black shoplifter." Given that most of their free time is spent partaking in so many wonderful activities such as raping, stealing, murdering, or a combination of all three, it only makes sense that we are just anxiously waiting to see these assholes drink the deadly beverage, and then begin to melt down or explode into a collection of rainbow-colored innards, limbs, and goop.
Oddly enough, the use of those aforementioned colors makes it seem that much more macabre. Were Street Trash shot with an overuse of red rather than say, green or blue, there is a very good chance that the flick could have never seen any proper release outside of the realm of home video. The shockingly graphic decaying of the hobos' figures is littered with an overuse of brighter colors, somewhat leaving it up to your imagination to figure out what in the hell is happening to their bodies. Well, other than, y'know, dying. Perhaps they are just a product of their environment though. The dilapidated and run down version of New York City that routinely pops up makes the dark and dreary one seen in Jacob's Ladder look tame and livable by comparison. Several small subplots involving some of the non-drifter types that live in the Big Apple do their damnedest to help distract you from any lulls that may be found, though with mixed results and a bit too much forced molesting for my own taste.
Wait, back up. Did I just compare a movie that features a game of football based around genital mutilation to another that is ripe with hidden, deceptively pretty symbolism? Oof, I need to see a shrink. Or take a bath. Or both.
There really are no other words or sentences that I can use to justify or describe the insanity of Street Trash. In fact, you should just go see the damn thing, even if you end up coming out feeling unclean and repulsed by it. The argument can be made that it resembles more of an experience rather than a cohesive motion picture, and while I do believe that it is FAR from a perfect movie, it is assuredly one of the most chaotic, mortifying, and darkly humorous "body horror" pictures that I have seen to date ever since I began this yearly marathon back in 2010. The DVD and Blu-Ray versions of the film are rather easy to obtain (can't say the same for its VHS, which may be the best way that you should watch it), and for the time being, you can also watch a surprisingly great-looking print on YouTube.
Also, if none of this catches your attention, or you just can not be convinced to sit through such an unexpectedly colorful, yet fucked up piece of cinematic weirdness such as this, let me at least show you what I was repeatedly mentioning in the first paragraph of this review. If I can channel my inner Joker, this constitutes as the ultimate excuse for "toilet humor." Why, you may end up putting down the bottle for good just as soon as I did!
........yep, definitely scheduling an appointment with a psychiatrist.
Tomorrow, it's time to bring home the bacon! However, I sincerely doubt that this brand will so easy to find if you visit the store. Perhaps, if we visit the laboratory, we could have better luck...
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