There are days when I’m convinced that I must have been Hitler in a previous life, because all the really unpleasant s**t happens to me.
Here is a big steamy pile of example that The Jonkers like to call “Monsteria”.
So what we have here plotwise is, well… I’m not all that sure. Let me try and recap the plot based on a text screen they give in the first minute, which reads like this. All misspellings are as presented.
“Once upon a time a malted incognito GLOBBBY blob, accidentally contacted a spirit, from another (extremely h***y) dimension so the CHonkster cant get outta the other place…and it sucks He was kidnapped for most of his Pizza dough..so unless theres a BOOB uprising theyll have to toot thier way back home.”
Which already makes me wonder what The Jonkers were on when they wrote this, and where I can get about a ton of it cheap. Because what follows is an incoherent jumbling of images, sounds, dialogue, occasional porn, and a whole bunch of s**t I can’t even begin to figure out.
Is this the result of some kind of drunken dare? “I dare you to make a movie out of whatever clips you’ve got on hand, and I double dare you to make it at least an hour long.”?
“Monsteria” isn’t so much a movie as it is a massive endurance test. Can you make it through the entire hour without throwing in the towel, or throwing up in disgust? Can you eject the DVD from your player and NOT snap it in two? Your guess is as good as mine, folks, but I managed to make it through, and if you’d like to spend an hour testing your outer limits and questioning your own sanity, you’re welcome to give it a try.
Though I think I actually felt my attention span shorten after finishing this beastie up.
Until about the twenty five minute eighteen second mark, where The Jonkers launch on a thoroughly preposterous endeavor—running the words “The End” over and over and over again in various styles, fonts and formats for the remaining thirty four minutes forty two seconds.
And so, in conclusion, I’d like to thank The Jonkers for wasting an hour of my time with this garbage that I could have been using to instead cover a REAL movie. One with a plot. And characters. And without scatological porn, you sick, sick bastards.