Feast III: The Happy Finish

After the demented roller-coaster ride in part two, this boring and literally unwatchable appendix is quite a let-down compared to the earlier installments.

Despite the far-fetched ending, which is so absurd as to be actually funny, we've got more of the same, but with diminishing returns (and badly lit at that.) The newly introduced characters aren't that much of a big deal, either, and the blissfully short running time reflects the uninspired nature of the whole schlock parade.

It was time to end this carnage.

3 out of 10 (h)armless karate kids

Ask the best chefs in the world and they will say that 'presentation is everything'; it's an old adage that I really wish director John Gulager had applied when serving up The Happy Finish, the final chapter in his Feast trilogy. Style and attention to detail are in short order, the film being dished up with all the finesse of a pig farmer with a slop bucket; if it was the third course in a meal, it would result in a severe case of indigestion.

Like Beluga caviar, Marmite and Spam, the film's main ingredients—extreme gore, female nudity, offensive humour, rubbery monsters, and random perversion—are an acquired taste, but Gulager's scatter-shot approach results in a chaotic mess that even seasoned fans of trashy horror will be hard pushed to stomach. There are one or two tasty morsels on offer—some decent effects and a couple of genuinely funny gags—but these are completely smothered by the irritating editing, half-baked ideas, unlikable characters, moronic moments, and truly bizarre directorial choices (an entire scene lit by a strobe?!?!) all of which serve to kill the appetite quicker than a short, curly hair in your mashed potato.

The third and last Feast part didn't seem as bad as the second, possibly because it was more about running away from the monsters and less about trying to make the characters look funny. It is difficult to enjoy a movie when you can't make yourself to care about any of the characters. And when the gore and weirdness goes completely over the top, you just stop caring.

Bottom line: Feast was a movie I recommend to all my friends, but the second and the third installments are just bad. It is "I wish I would have cleaned the house instead of watching it" bad. It's really depressing to see a movie bring some originality in a tired genre only to try too hard by making sequels that lack the soul of the first and exaggerate everything that didn't matter in the first place.

Even though I have seen all the FEAST films this one is the first of the series I have commented on, I liked both FEAST 1 and 2 but this one, was too overdone and by that I mean the outrageous gross out humor, in the first one it was gross true but it was always unexpected, in two where they took it up a notch it was also still unexpected even if it was more gross, now with three there was no humor it was just gross and when the film gets around to the part where our favorite group of survivors starts to crawl around in the sewers, its so dark the only thing you can make out during the action scenes is screams and roars because you can't see anything.

If you look at the acting you'd probably say these people need to find another profession but if you look at the material you'd think if any of these people can keep a straight face in a film like this they deserve an Oscar.

Overall, this film had the potential to be hugely entertaining, but the execution was simply put to stupid to make it so, and thus it is the weakest entry in the series

When it comes to a true relic it's hard to give a review. All I can say is that this (literally) piece of s**t is good cinema.

Where this lacks in structure it makes up in substance. The substance being not the cruelty or injustice of the world, but the driving force of all humanity: fun and love.

Kaufman said that the cinema is a dead art form. Pure hubris. Of course that was after the fact that he'd just created one of the more meaningful pieces of art: Synecdoche New york. Cinema just needs to go boldly where no one has gone before.

Beyond theater, no matter how much as it hurts. Saying farewell to Shakespeare causes physical pain, but sometimes the pain is good. Or like on tn the case of a modern human being, necessary.

In cinema there's nothing to bind us. Nothing to keep us apart. The cycle begins again when nothing is given. Well, except our endless appetite for sex and violence.