Red State (2011)

I’ve seen only two Kevin Smith films before – Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (did not contain a scene where someone shits on someone else’s face) and Zack and Miri Make A Porno (did contain a scene where someone shits on someone else’s face so was therefore much better).  I enjoyed both of them but they were out and out comedies, both of them a million miles away from a horror film, so when I heard Kevin Smith was doing a horror and it was going to be an 18 me and my willy went into overdrive.

A bit more research did force the downward trajectory of my privates a bit though – I’m not usually a fan of religion themed horror movies unless they go the supernatural route, something which Red State didn’t seem to be going for.  Still it was a fucking 18 and if you’ve learnt anything over all these years of private studying with me, then you’ll know that I will watch any motherfucking bitch with that little red sore arsehole in the corner.

So, after shouting ‘FUCK’ out loud in the cinema after walking into the theatre at the exact moment a deafening scream hurled itself from the Paranormal Activity trailer, I sat down to watch Red State, with little idea of what to expect.

It starts like any other Kevin Smith film (I ASSUME) with three teens saying funny things and swearing and talking about sex and having floppy hair.  Basically, they’ve discovered this online thing where you meet with women and have sex with them (they’ve obviously never been to Greggs before – it’s fucking easy to meet slags in there) and so they organise a little rendezvous with an old woman that lives in a trailer (sounds wicked guys, thanks for the invite).


Obviously, the old woman is a religious nutcase who drugs them, ties them up and gets them ready for some sort of sacrifice at the hands of this wackjob zealot guy and his mental congregation.  That’s what you get for wanting to have sex with women.  Only it’s not if you’re not a dickhead.  I go for the fit ones usually if I’m honest – a trailer’s usually a good warning sign, although the free beer might have swung it for me.  I’m a sucker for free beer. I hope you’re taking notes ladies.

I also like Paco Rabanne aftershave, DVD boxsets, colourful jeans, VO5 hair wax, protein shakes, cheese (any variety, although I’m still a bit undecided on blue cheese, so you should probably skip that), Starbars, Haribo, Pepperamis, Subway (footlong only you freak), pull-up bars, Frangelico, thrusting my crotch relentlessly, Smarties, hip-hop, peanut butter and Philadelphia on toast and wide, moist gussets with a bone to pick.

Anyway, the film’s all hotting up and getting exciting and shit and then, oops, the world’s most boring sermon begins – we get it, he’s a nutcase, what do you want, a medal?  But luckily, it all gets going again after he’s fucking shut up – which is where it really kicks off.  From here on in, it doesn’t stop for a minute, not even for a wee, or a quick pause to pull its boxers out of its wipe area.


We’re treated to a couple of really nifty chase sequences , but that’s just build up to when John Goodman appears on the scene.  I haven’t seen him in anything since Death Sentence (which was MINT) and by Gordon, I’ve missed him – he’s as ace as a packet of cards with just aces in them and then also a fiver and a voucher for a free lapdance and a Tangfastics fizzy dummy sellotaped to the front.  He’s ace in this one too, playing a grizzled strike-team agent with a fit wife and bare skills with a gat.  He comes along, and he brings his mates and they head off to the nutcases’ hideout to have a big fight with loads of guns and shit.

The rest of the film is pretty much shooting and shouting.


I really enjoyed this shit – it was scary, exciting, unexpected (there were at least two massive “OH SHIT” moments which were audibly relayed to the audience by me), violent, unsettling, John Goodmaning, funny and curve-ball-tastic.

If there was one downside to the film, it was the ending.  At one point, Smith throws an absolute gem of a twist in there and I couldn’t wipe the shit off my bum smile off my face, but then he takes it in another direction again and ruins it – he should’ve gone for it, it would have been awesome.  But as I tell most women I meet – you can’t have it all, and like those women, I made do with what I was given, and I still had a blast.

So on the basis of this, I’m happy for Kevin Smith to make some more horror movies, only he needs to take some advice from someone who knows their stuff – don’t forget to include a scene where someone shits on someone else’s face next time.  Rookie mistake Mr Smith, rookie mistake.

I’ll give Red State 7 18s out of ten

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