Enjoy watching viscous horror? Like your killers well-lubricated? Ever wonder “why does everyone make milky coffee? Maybe put a little grease in there instead?” Today is your day!
You like weird ugly old guys in shiny Speedo underpants? How about weird old ugly guys walking around naked with their schwantz hanging out? What about disco? You like disco? Are you a hooty tooty disco cutie? Alright well maybe you need to ask your granddad what disco was. It’s like Bruno Mars, if Bruno Mars was wearing roller skates, a satin jacket, a whole lot of glitter, and did a fuckton of blow while singing about how much he likes to dance. Also, there will be trumpets. Trumpets and rhythm guitars that go “wucka-wucka” and I think violins too. The 70’s were a weird time.
Also weird? This movie. Good weird, at least I think so, me and probably a whole lot of college potheads. It’s absurd. The humor, the characters, the dialog, the soundtrack, it’s marvelous and gross. Gross and awkward. There’s a lot of nudity involving people you never wanted to see naked. There’s a lot of scenes that go on for just a little bit too long. There’s a lot of endlessly quotable soundbites. There’s a lot of viscous substances. Want to impress a date and/or weed out the dates that will just never “get” you? Introduce The Greasy Strangler to them.
The movie is about a guy named Big Ron, who lives with his adult son, Bradon. They make their living giving walking tours of not-real disco heritage sites. Bradon cooks Big Ron’s meals, usually sausage-based and with way too much grease, then Big Ron gets all greasy, goes out and kills people, then stands naked in a car wash operated by a blind man named Paul to clean off all the grease. One day Bradon gets a date with a curly-haired disco tour groupie and, before you know it, an ugly love-triangle is put into motion between son, dad and disco cutie that threatens to destroy this dysfunctional family. The sex scenes are wicked steamy, too. Steamy? More like greasy.
You’ll want to smoke weed to watch this one. I don’t smoke (I’m more of a silver-spray-paint-fumes kinda guy) but Mido preferred to roll around in a huge pile of catnip before watching this movie, and she tells me it’s basically the same thing.