If the devil himself commissioned a mixtape of late-night cable nightmares, it would probably look a lot like Bring on the Damned!. Written and directed by Brandon Bassham and produced by Lloyd Kaufman through Troma, this grimy horror anthology throws every genre, bodily fluid, and taboo into a meat grinder and produces a puree. What spills out is loud, messy, crude, and often hilarious.
The film stitches together five segments, each themed after a sin: Blasphemy, Obsession, Perversion, Nihilism, and Sadism, and drenches them in gonzo energy. Think Creepshow if it were raised on gas station wine and anti-psychotics. From French New Wave parody to sci-fi noir and Looney Tunes splatter violence, no style is off limits and no punch is pulled. It’s aggressively DIY in spirit, proudly low budget, and exactly the kind of chaos you’d expect from the guy who gave us The Slashening and Fear Town, USA.
Sydney Hirsch leads one of the most memorable segments as Charlotte, a woman sucked into a truly deranged web of cults, cartoons, and body horror. Johnny Ferri also makes a strong impression, pulling double duty as Brack and Joey Carbone, and Zac Amico is deeply committed as the unforgettably named Bottom Butcher. Even Troma legend Lloyd Kaufman shows up as the Mad Monk, doing what he does best, being gross and oddly lovable.
“…stitches together five segments, each themed after a sin: Blasphemy, Obsession, Perversion, Nihilism, and Sadism…”
Each short in Bring on the Damned! feels like its own microdose of madness. One minute you’re in a sleazy 1980s horror throwback, the next you’re watching a claymation nightmare that feels like it was scribbled on the walls of an asylum. There’s no tonal consistency, and that’s by design. If one story doesn’t click, another will be along in ten minutes to punch you in the face with a dildo or whisper theological nihilism into your ear while playing synthwave.
However, not all segments land equally. A couple feel stretched or overly indulgent, but when the film hits, it hits like a flaming school bus full of clowns. There’s a cartoon violence sequence that feels like Roger Rabbit gone rancid, a bleak found-footage descent that genuinely disturbs, and plenty of over-the-top gore for the genre purists.
The practical effects range from impressively gnarly to proudly garbage-tier, but that’s half the point. This is punk horror. The seams are part of the charm. The camera wobbles, the audio clips, and you might spot a boom mic in frame, but you’ll be too busy laughing or wincing to care.
Bring on the Damned! is crude, nasty, and not for the faint of heart, and that is why it is a blast. It’s the kind of movie you watch with your most depraved friends at midnight while drinking something you found in your trunk. Underneath the chaos lies a genuine love for genre filmmaking. Bassham knows his references, and the film’s sheer commitment to its own insanity is admirable. The film is not trying to be a prestige horror; it is just trying to be fun. And in that mission, it absolutely succeeds.
"…crude, nasty, and not for the faint of heart, and that is why it is a blast."
