Horror review: My Bloody Valentine 3-D

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ORIGINALLY POSTED ON STRAIGHT.COM, JAN. 19, 2009

When Jason Voorhees squeezed a victim’s head so hard in Friday the 13th Part III that one of the poor sap’s eyeballs came poppin’ out at ya, horror fans thought they’d witnessed the ultimate 3-D gross-out.

But the makers of My Bloody Valentine 3-D are up for the challenge. Near the start of this uncalled-for remake of a 1981 Canadian slasher flick, the killer puts a pick-axe through the back of some dude’s head and his eyeball winds up sticking out at ya on the tip of the tool. At that point it becomes clear that director Patrick Lussier (Dracula 2000) cares little for physical impossibilities as long as he can make body parts fly off the screen.

As the opening credits roll, genre vet Tom Atkins (Halloween III: Season of the Witch) surveys the extreme carnage of a February 14 hospital massacre and proclaims, “Happy fuckin’ Valentine’s Day.” Soon after, a bunch of youths partying in a mine get brutally slaughtered.

Fast-forward 10 years, and mining-company heir Tom Hanniger (Jensen Ackles of TV’s Supernatural) returns to the small Pennsylvania town where the murders took place just as a new spate of killings begin, making him a prime suspect.

Hanniger used to have a thing for the sweet Sarah Palmer (They Wait’s Jaime King), now wife of the town’s philandering sheriff (Final Destination’s Kerr Smith). While the soap opera–style conflict between the rival males plays out, a hulking maniac in miner’s gear puts his pick-axe to good use on the skulls, jaws, and chests of any locals he comes across.

He chases a naked blonde into a motel room and—after being distracted by a stacked midget whom he impales on the ceiling—takes potshots at her through a set of bedsprings.

MBV3D’s script was co-written by the same guy who penned Jason X, the worst Friday the 13th entry ever, thus the flimsy characterizations, bogus plotting, and serious lack of chuckles or scares. But the outrageous amounts of blood ’n’ guts directed toward the audience in three-dimensional spatters still make this substandard flick a gorehound’s wet dream.

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