STREET TRASH (2024) — CULTURE CRYPT (2024)

Summary:

A ragtag band of vagrants fights back against a corrupt mayor who is exterminating homeless people through grotesque mutations.

Review:

Greedy corporations are forcing small businesses to shut down, fueling a widespread wave of unemployment. The domino effect has launched a mammoth spike in homelessness while regular power outages cause a clamor for increasingly scarce energy supplies. To combat violent protests and the rise of supposedly dangerous derelicts, the government is increasing its militaristic police presence and dispatching drones to sweep the streets for rebellious dissidents who threaten public safety.

In our current geopolitical climate, the lines above could have been pulled off the news from almost any corner of the world. They're actually the backstory behind the dystopian near future for Cape Town, South Africa, in "Street Trash," director/cowriter Ryan Kruger's 2024 reimagining of the 1987 cult classic originally made by Jim Muro and Roy Frumkes.

Mayor Mostert has a solution for dealing with the overwhelming number of vagrants taking over his city. That solution involves "Viper," a nasty little substance that can be injected, inhaled, or swallowed. In a matter of moments after ingestion, anyone unfortunate enough to be infected will soon see their skin melt, feel massive boils balloon before bursting, and probably have their head fall off in a geyser of neon glop. None of this is legal of course, but elitists don't care as long as Mostert's clandestine plan gets all the bothersome bums out of mind, and especially out of sight.

Only a ragtag crew of merry miscreants stands in the mayor's way. Filling the role of de facto ringleader, Ronald sells himself to sex addicts to make money, which he then uses to score drugs. His best buddy Chef routinely speaks in Yiddish slang as a defining character trait. When Wors isn't inadvertently or advertently sniffing farts, he and Pap test each other with trivia about synonyms for vagina. 2-Bit kind of counts as two people, since he's accompanied by Sockle, a foul-mouthed blue gremlin only 2-Bit can see and hear. There's also Alex and Offley, although the latter doesn't show his face since it's a running gag that Offley never appears onscreen.

Now you know who the main players are. So, what do they talk about in between escaping officers of the law and a black market queenpin's henchmen?

Mostly, their conversations concern cocks. When Ronald escapes a cop, he grabs "dick dust" from a drug dealer, dosing the cop into getting an erection that's subsequently severed by slamming it in a metal gate. Suffering splash damage from the ED powder, Ronald spits in his hand so as not to let his boner go to waste, until Chef reminds him they've got better things to do than masturbate. Meanwhile, Sockle taunts 2-Bit about pissing on his feet and proposes making his famous "salty scrotum stew."

Mind you, all of that occurs in the film's first fifteen minutes. After that, discussions open up to encompass similarly puerile matters like rat orgies, getting the sh*ts from eating hummus out of a drainpipe, whether or not Peter Pan is a pedophile, how Pinocchio is really Geppetto's sex doll, and also wondering, if two vegans have an argument, is it a beef?

In the event you thought "Street Trash's" premise made it ripe for timely, relevant, and clever class commentary, you were right. However, as should be plainly evident given the preceding descriptions, you won't actually find any in the film. Ryan Kruger and company clearly opt for comedic crudeness instead. It's not like anyone is trying to be subtle with a police officer named Maggot and a public official whose name is one letter away from "Monster."

Whether you like the film's irreverently juvenile attitude or not, and there's no wrong response since personal tastes are indeed personal, "Street Trash" is exactly the rude, ridiculous, rebellious movie Kruger means for it to be from the outset. As a technical endeavor, "Street Trash" looks great. By great, I mean the practical effects look like they did in the '80s era the movie affectionately emulates. Everything is goopy, gory, and ragged around the edges in a way that deliberately designs exploding bodies to be gloriously gross without ever being realistic. Drench everything in vividly colored lights to match the crayon box of gushing bodily fluids, slip a synth score underneath, and you've got a throwback midnight movie with modern flair straight from a Lloyd Kaufman wet dream.

Subjectively speaking, how any individual viewer responds to the toilet humor, problematic personalities, and gutter-glorifying style is where things get dicey. That's precisely why the film has a split-the-middle score of 50/100 as an objective starting point for a review rating. Blitz your brain on a couple of edibles beforehand and you'll synch with the splatter infinitely better than anyone expecting even a smidge of seriousness. Stay too sober and you're not only unlikely to be entertained, you're liable to become downright angry with the movie, and I don't think the filmmakers care no matter what.

NOTE: There is a mid-credits scene and a post-credits scene.

Review Score: 50

STREET TRASH (2024) — CULTURE CRYPT (2024)
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