Did I watch the Super Bowl this year? F**k no! I spent my afternoon, a drunken mess nonetheless, with “Necromaniac,” the sequel to Ron Atkins’ uber-hate flick Schizophreniac. Yes, Harry Russo is back and he’s just as shithouse insane as ever what with all of the drug scarfin’ and w***e manglin’ he engages in. Just as with the first film, your threshold for the obscene will be tested and not many will make it through to the other end of “Necromaniac.”
I’m tempted to say that it’s the case of “same s**t, different film” with “Necromaniac” as we’re just watching Harry Russo, played by an overzealous John Giancaspro, continuing to roam about town, hopped up on drugs, killing everyone in his path, screaming and yelling all the while. The main difference here is that this film is actually funny. Maybe it’s just that I’ve warmed to the manic Harry Russo character and seeing him in action again brings a tickle to my guts. Hmmmm…nah. It probably has to do with the taco toss Harry performs at Del Taco, or maybe his anti-Steven Spielberg rant, and it could be that he spends a good part of the film with the words “F**K YO MAMA” written across his body, and that scene where Harry gets his a*s kicked by Jesus (played by Arkins himself) is a definite laugh getter. Basically, this film goes so over the top in its hatred of mankind and the ground we slither upon that you can’t help but laugh and I’m sure that was the intention of Atkins and crew.
Funny yes. But still f*****g dangerous. Just as with Schizophreniac, “Necromaniac” has that feeling that everyone involved with the production has something royally wrong with them. Ron Atkins makes some of the most unique and definitely most offensive underground horror out there. He puts all of the posers to shame.