The Plot:
Noble is a chain-smoking transient holed up in a seedy motel room. He gets mysterious phone calls full of supernatural static and receives strange notes under his door. But when he waits to see who delivers these weird written demands, no one is there. One day, he wakes up to a visit from a pair of well-dressed goons. They are looking for an actress that once occupied the room, and soon our determined drifter finds himself locked into looking for the missing gal. With a tip from a strange, enigmatic man, Noble discovers a pirate TV station that specializes in sadism. Tracing the images to a pornographer named Normal and his own homemade smut factory, Noble believes he is getting close to discovering the girl's whereabouts. But Normal has news for our proto-private dick. There may not be a woman to find after all, and the dreams Noble has been having about white masked killers with sinister intent could be a sign he is merely cracking up. In order to get to the bottom of it all, Noble will need to rely on all his skills as both an investigator and an instigator. Otherwise, he will remain a Shockheaded victim of circumstance.

The DVD:
As the second film in a proposed trilogy of tales, Shockheaded is all homage and no heart. It's no surprise to learn that writer/director Eric Thornett is devising his own Sin City -- he's even named the final film in the threesome Filth City. But the references don't stop there. Shockheaded borrows so liberally from the Coen Brothers, Davids Lynch and Cronenberg, The Wachowski Brothers and the numerous journeymen directors that drove Hollywood's noir heyday that you have to wonder if he has an original idea in his cinematic schema. And since he plagiarizes from a litany of genre legends, one would assume that his film would have an accomplished, artistic quality, right? The answer to both questions is, of course, no. Familiarity does not make for a fine film, and Thornett is a better mimic than moviemaker. As a result, Shockheaded is reminiscent of watching Lost Highway bisected by Barton Fink, and then flecked with a little Videodrome for filched flavor. Add in a smattering of post-modern swordplay, a quick glimpse into the smutty world of present day pornographers, and a weird religion-based allegorical slant and you've got the makings of a major mess. Naturally, Thornett doesn't let us down in the disorder department.

It's a shame to squat all over Shockheaded since you can see the maker's good intentions scurrying along its pseudo-sci-fi surface. Granted, no one sets out to make a terrible entertainment. They believe whole-heartedly in the material and the manner in which they will realize it. Stumbles along the way are to be expected, and if the end result doesn't turn out quite the way you planned, at least there is accomplishment in trying and completion. BUT -- and this is the MAJOR caveat here -- this doesn't mean you have to share your half-baked bull spit with the rest of the world. Sometimes, a pet project needs to stay in your aesthetic lap, not allowed to hump the leg of every film fan curious enough to pay attention to it. Shockheaded should have stayed as part of Thornett's professional portfolio. It is only in that format, where no one expects outright enjoyment and emotional connections, that something as static as it could excel. As a director, Thornett is proven an accomplished visionary with this otherwise failed filmic experiment. He can deliver the occasional clever shot, and his visual vistas do contain a nice dose of filmic flare. But as for other cinematic prerequisites like character development, pacing, narrative drive and internal logic, he fails miserably. Shockheaded is probably the best looking boredom you will ever experience.

Much of the movie's problems stem from the acting. Thornett plays the samurai sword wielding villain, Normal, and although his performance is quirky and loaded with self-conscious tics, it works. We completely buy this sleazy flesh peddler as the off his rocker reprobate he claims to be. Even his leggy blond dominatrix bodyguard mixes the right amount of evil and eros. But sadly, that's it. As our hulking hero, Noble, Jason Wauer has no defining dimensions. It may come as news to the actor that blank stares, chain-smoking, and hooch swigging are not personality traits. Yet that is all he has in his thespian arsenal. Elsewhere, Thornett seems to have hired people who either looked the part, paid him some money, or owed him a favor. We witness performance parameters that run the bottom-rung gamut from dull to dreary. Even b-movie goddess Debbie Rochon seems to be sleepwalking through her role as the unlucky actress. At first, we can't tell it's her. Sporting what appears to be a very bad wig (and, perhaps, a new set of chest implants), Ms. Rochon is so subdued we start to think her character has been drugged. Turns out, this aura of disengagement is part of Rochon's approach, and it makes her victim of vice that much less memorable. By the end, when bodies are piling up, we don't care who lives or who dies. We just want the noxious narrative to be over.

Indeed, what Thornett fails to understand here is that an enigmatic approach to plotting can only take you so far. At some point, you have to start coughing up conclusions. Without them, the audience metaphysically lynches you, stringing you up for leading them on. Sadly, Shockheaded simply tries to get away with suggestion and hinting. Indeed, it is this critic's semi-studied opinion that the movie is a mannered look at the battle between Heaven and Hell for the souls of lost individuals. There are such sacrosanct clues inside the story. But since Thornett is also asking to work in horror themes, martial arts action sequences, those damned nods to noir, and a middling message about the media as mind control, the pieces of this perplexing puzzle just don't fall into place. As a result, Shockheaded tries to get by via creative co-opting, invented iconography (just what is with all the white mask nonsense) and the desire to devise its own insular world. And for those too young to experience the referenced filmmakers in their original, non-home video format, it probably all works. After all, they only have their VHS/DVD memories of the movies Shockheaded steals from, along with a wealth of critical commentary in support of their sponging. Some will view Eric Thornett as a next generation Tarantino, tapping his obvious heroes for his cinematic style. But there is a very fine line between respect and rip-off. It's a metaphysical mark Shockheaded crosses constantly.

The Video:
No surprise here -- this is a very good looking transfer. DVD distributor Heretic Films provides a gorgeous, if occasionally grainy, 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen image. The colors are subdued, and the overall visual style is dark and murky. Yet we never lose any necessary detail, and the atmosphere created is impressive. Shockheaded may not be a good film dramatically, but it is a nice looking movie artistically.

The Audio:
Delivering a dense Dolby Digital Stereo 2.0 mix that's well balanced and incredibly moody, Shockheaded's DVD delivers a nice aural experience. Dialogue is always discernible and Jason Russler's score is creepy and chaotic. Perhaps the most professional aspect of the entire production, the sonic situation here is superb.

The Extras:
If there is one thing Heretic knows, it's added content. Their releases are usually loaded down with interesting supplemental material. Shockheaded is no different. As part of the packaging, we are treated to a full length audio commentary featuring director Thornett, actor Jason Wauer and composer Jason Russler. Then there's a comedic short film about a man haunted by the spirit of an insect (it's called, naturally, Spider Ghost). We are given a chance to view a collection of deleted scenes, and there is a nice selection of trailers for other Heretic fare. Even Debbie Rochon steps up to give her praise to the production. Of the four main offerings, the commentary is probably the best. Wauer discusses getting nicotine sickness from excessive smoking, Russler explains his various musical cues, and Thornett lets us in on his cinematic tricks, from his lack of storyboarding to the cutting of his own character's dialogue. It's a genial, jocular conversation. The deleted material offers nothing new, but Ghost Spider is very funny. In fact, it's a lot better than the main movie on the disc.

Final Thoughts:
Outright rejection of something that tries so hard is really difficult. Though it may not seem like it a lot of the time, critics don't really enjoy pissing all over someone's creative hopes and dreams. Yet a movie like Shockheaded begs to be branded. Its cinematic swipes are so blatantly obvious that to not call them out does the entire artform a detrimental disservice. Still, this reviewer will begrudgingly grant that this film will have a fan base foaming over every recognizable reference. Therefore, a rating of Rent It is being proffered as a kind of analytical peace treaty. Out of the 106 minutes of running time, the movie only manages about 20 of top-flight entertainment. The rest is regurgitated riffs from directors who've done it a helluva lot better the first time. Maybe when viewed as part of an overall trilogy format, everything here will come together. The narrative lapses and illogical elements will coalesce into something stupendous. Until that time, Shockheaded must stand on its own. Without the help of its fellow films, or the dozens of other directors cribbed from, it doesn't seem capable of such an upright position.

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