When most of their Southern California sorority sisters head to Cabo for Spring Break, eight coeds stay behind and are soon joined by the "substitute cook" (Mark Hengst). None of them seem to mind that he apparently can't speak English...but hey, we'll overlook that for the sake of setting up the fun to come, right?
The eight women fit typical stereotypes: the brain, the Bible beater, the dumb blond...although most of them seem to be sluts. And one of the running "jokes" is that most of them have lesbian tendencies. (And good luck telling some of these women apart, especially the interchangeable Pam and Brooke, who do body shots with Autumn in one of the more softcore lesbo moments.) Soon, the sole straight gal gets her throat slit after offering the cook a blowjob, then takes a trip through the meat grinder before finding her way onto the dinner plates of her former sisters for a few meals.
Hengst always speaks in (apparently) Hungarian, with another running "joke" being that he will tell his soon-to-be victims that he's going to kill them (only they don't understand it, which is what makes it so funny!). His portrayal is like a Saturday Night Live sketch that overstays its welcome, and he comes off like a cross between The Swedish Chef and Borat (especially when he utters his catchphrase, "Ooo Kaaay!").
A recurring side story has edgy girl Anastasia trying to get into the pants of religious Kristen. It's an incessantly boring subplot that features four repetitive sequences where Kristen angrily knocks on her tormenter's door to argue, which eventually ends up with her bound and blindfolded in a BDSM fantasy involving chocolate sauce.
The filmmakers have also chosen to use way too much loud music to try and cover up for the script's deficiencies. One scene (after knock #1 above) has three different musical shifts in a 60-second span. It's also fun to count the seconds during some pauses between line readings, like it's built in "laugh time" that never materializes (maybe the gals just couldn't remember their lines, and the editors did the best they could).
I have no problem enjoying camp or crap, but this effort isn't even bad enough to be good. The actresses aren't so laughably horrible to make it any fun...they take it just seriously enough to make it boring. It certainly won't please slasher fans--this is an attempt at comedy first. The effects are cheap (unless you think close-ups of chopping pig guts are cool), and all of the kills are edited so we just see the "after" shots of the carnage: a chopped off hand, a split skull, a slashed throat, a severed head. The kills aren't even clever...the set-up would at least suggest some fun ways to dispose of victims (a vast array of culinary devices would seem to work...how about a garlic press, a cheese grater, a salad spinner?). Instead, we get a variety of knives and a corkscrew (yawn!).
And the script--inexplicably credited to three writers--is devoid of any laughs. Let's see if any of this makes you chuckle (children, cover your eyes):
Laughing yet? There's also Lance, who lusts after Bunny, and talks to his own penis (named Frank), then "shakes" with it after making a deal ("What is it with you, Frank? We're not going into her special place yet!"). Another "joke" is uttered twice, with characters laughing after finding out the cook is from Hungary. Get it? The Hungary Cook?
Wait, Cameron...shouldn't that be "Hungarian Cook"? Why yes, loyal reader...it should. "But neither is funny," you declare. I agree, my friend, I agree.
There's also a short behind-the-scenes featurette (4:34) in full-frame, most memorable for someone behind camera telling Paquin to sit up "just so we see a little more of your chest."
Also included is audition footage of Hengst (2:41) in rough full-frame video as he reads some cook lines.
Trailers before the film are for Wrestlemanic (another classic!), Hatchet, Spiral and Behind the Mask.
While not an extra, the closing credits feature some bloopers that are, unfortunately, not funny (the never-ending takes of Hengst reading the line "Buona sera!" in exaggerated Italian are a chore to sit through).