Jersey Shore Massacre is a miserable experience
Even if it’s doing laundry, clipping your toenails or just going to sleep, I can assure you your time will be far better spent doing anything besides watching Jersey Shore Massacre.
The only audience who could possibly be remotely entertained by this brain-cell reducer are those with a serious Jersey girl fetish and pre-teen boys hoping for a glimpse of boobs wholly incapable of finding Internet porn.
Teresa (Danielle Dallacco) and her best friend, Dina, (Angelica Boccella) gather their girlfriends for a weekend at the Jersey Shore but instead of partying on a beach house, they’re stuck at Teresa’s uncle’s luxury cabin in the woods. Unfortunately, in addition to the obnoxious meatheads they meet on the beach, they also attract the attention of a killer who won’t be content until all the gym, tanning fist pumpers are carved up by his trusty blade.
Sure, maybe it sounds like a harmless laugh, watching obnoxious Jersey Shore-esque characters getting killed in gruesome fashion (Jersey Shore haters may be tempted to check it out on that premise alone) but the film is so so terrible that watching it is just an extended exercise in self-loathing rather than some perversely entertaining distraction.
Not that you should expect anything remotely close to good acing, decent writing or directing, but this is brutal even by B movie standards, making for one of the longer 88 minutes no viewer should ever be forced to have to endure.
Director/Writer Paul Tarnopol seems confused if he’s making a goofy Jersey Shore parody or a hardcore SAW-like horror film complete with masked villain. He needs to commit to one extreme or the other as the resulting combination is an unwatchable mess.
Teresa is darn near virginal, but the other characters are so obnoxious you’ll consider the murderer conducting a public service to your sanity. The tone is too jokey, the characters too cartoonish and silly, but the murders are jarringly gruesome. Yet they’re so poorly executed they look like Tarnopol stuffed paper mache creations with sausages and ketchup.
Tarnopol caters to his target audience with boob and booty close ups with camera angles that literally seem designed so he can ogle his female cast and scrape away any remaining shreds of dignity they may have left after reading the script and signing off on the film anyway. And just for ‘fun,’ there’s some completely random hate-filled scenes mocking gays and Latinos presumably for kicks.
It’s so amazing how bad this film is on every conceivable level and just when it appears it can’t top itself, there’s some ridiculous scene ready and willing to rise to the challenge.
One character takes a laxative for a diet then has to run to the ocean to use the bathroom, while in another a character is stabbed in the face with a sex toy. Yeah, you read that correctly.
It takes a very special movie to make Jersey Shore look classy and dignified, but somehow Jersey Shore Massacre makes it appear all too easy. To lend a modicum of Jersey Shore credibility to the proceedings, Jenni ‘J-Woww’ Farley is one of the executive producers for what it’s worth (Spolier: not much).
If only Jersey Shore Massacre was merely bad enough to mock as that way it could provide some fun in ridiculing its lame ineffectiveness, but there’s nothing funny at all with this abomination. The only thing killed here is any semblance of good taste.