Steel Guitars and Homemade Shotguns
By Rich Bruso
January 2006
"I saw this movie and thought of you!" Oh, how I have grown to fear these words. It definitely rates up there with "Can you change the belt on my Grand Am," "I'm reasonably sure this is what the medical book says to remove," and "…now do you know why I pulled you over?" Rarely do such phrases lead to anything but pain, torment, stitches, and (in the last case, at least) statewide manhunts.
In this case, the result is Dead & Breakfast, starring not just one, but two Carradines. Oooh, and it's a comedy/horror/musical! Haven't seen one of them since Nudist Colony of the Dead! And the next surprise? It's actually quite enjoyable, as long as you can handle the gallons and gallons of gore. They had to cut a full minute of blood spurting and random carnage to get an 'R' rating.
So, what does this particular comedy/horror/musical offer that all the others don’t? How about periodic plot recaps, country music style? We also get a crazy public records clerk, severed head puppeteering, Portia de Rossi as the sympathetic bride-to-be, a Thriller-style possessed dance homage, fresh meat (deer or beaver, your choice), the most multilingual character ever, and the least believable premise for staying in a hotel in movie history.
How bad is the premise? Well, to save money, the group is carpooling to a wedding, but they get lost somewhere along the way, and end up, predictably, at an empty bed and breakfast. The problem? They were driving an RV!
Okay, so what if the premise was a bit weak, but it served us well by delivering the attractive young outsiders to this closed-off creepy little town. And we're in town just in time for a hoedown! Woooo-eeeee!
Fortunately this particular bed and breakfast boasts all the amenities: A talented French chef, plenty of beds, a window peeper (no extra charge), a prayer room, a box containing the spirit of the proprietor's dead child, and a delicious selection of pies! Yummy! It also contains, by the next morning, two dead bodies (one of which was the proprietor), several extra bullet holes, and the most bumbling Sheriff's deputy since Enos strapped on a badge in Hazzard County. For aspiring deputies out there, remember to get help when carrying a corpse down the stairs.
It turns out souls don't like being stuck in little boxes, no matter how decorative. Once free, it immediately possesses one of our travelers, and begins an orgy of death, possession, and line dancing.
And you have to admire a singer/narrator who keeps on with his job despite such setbacks as death and demonic possession. And he can play guitar! As an added bonus, if you happen to slip out of the room to grab a drink, good old Randall will be there to keep you up to date. The lyrics truly have to be heard to be believed.
As always, things go horribly wrong and we end up with the traditional standoff. Barricaded into the bed and breakfast, several of the survivors try and fend of the possessed hordes with pipes converted for shotgun duty. Meanwhile, the sheriff heads off to the graveyard to dig up the proprietor's body. Apparently, the only way to thwart a possessive child's soul is to get his daddy to partake in a spiritual spanking.
I'm not going to tell you how the movie ended, as I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise for the three or four people on Earth who wouldn't see it coming. I will, however, say this: If you're looking for a funny, gory, toe-tapping good time, and you have 87 or so minutes to kill, give this movie a try.
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