Street Trash

I've been trying to watch this movie for a while.

Street Trash has been on my radar for a while now based solely on the supremely-cool box art which is at the top of this review. A man, mid-melt, flushing himself down the toilet; an act which then separates him from three of his limbs. And yes, this scene is in the movie. Fantastic.

Of course Street Trash can't be all homeless-person-body meltdowns. As entertaining as that may be, there has to be context for the body melting (I think). This context comes in the form of a Junkyard/toxic waste dump that acts as a town of sorts to the unnamed city's homeless population. This town is lorded over by a super-strong, psychotic ex-green beret who cares a knife made out of a human femur and appears to have superhuman strength. Whatever.



The story, whatever of it there is, entail the denizens of this homeless village coming in contact with a mysterious new booze called "Viper." The origins of this beverage are never explained: at the beginning of the movie, the local shop-owner finds a dusty old case of booze in his basement and decides to just sell it to the homeless for a buck. Why not?

Here I'd probably tell you about the story, but there really isn't one to speak of: in between scenes of the characters interacting in various ways that barely matter to the flow of the film, other characters buy and drink Viper leading to a meltdown sequence. I'm not even sure of any thematic reasoning for the meltdown scenes: no commentary on society's treatment of the homeless, just people to be melted for our viewing pleasure.



It's is to the movie's benefit that the meltdown scenes are pretty well-done. The cover scene of the man who flushes himself is a joy to behold, gross plastic pustules erupt green-, blue-, and yellow-tinged technicolor gore, the effect ending with what looks like a lumpy trash bag writhing in the toilet bowl. Another man explodes against a wall and a woman tears her breasts off mid-melt as they ooze and burst between her fingers and bra. Good and gross and very colorful.



Of course, the movie really lost me with the supposed "comedy" bits. As far as comedy is concerned much is borrowed from the Troma (Toxic Avenger, Class of Nuke 'Em High) catalog of movies. In an admission that may lose me B-movie cred, I have to admit I hate Troma movies; just not my cup of tea. A scene indicative of this involves the aforementioned green beret chopping off one man's cock as he urinates and proceeding to play a lively game of "keep-away" with it as the victim stumbles around. The meltings were funnier than that. Street Trash should stick to what it knows and leave the castrations to Jennifer Hill.

In true B-movie fashion, the only reason to watch Street Trash is for the inventive, colorful, absolutely whacked out gore and the copious amounts of female nudity: from an opening scene chase out of a burning building to the second-act homeless orgy that happens. Or gang-rape. Either way she ends up dead, but it's not a particularly sad thing in this movie. Like all bad horror movies, since the audience knows nothing about any of the characters it's impossible to feel bad when they get naked or generally melt, which is the fate of just about every character.

To sum up, Street Trash's greatest boon is it's greatest flaw. The gore is awesome, but ultimately pointless. Pointlessness is not a bad thing, but Street Trash's Troma-esque humor sequences drag on endlessly and honestly, bu the end the body meltdowns start to wear out their welcome. I know. I must be getting old or something.



** out of ****