Faust In The House

Gargantuan boobs, wholesale decapitations, kegs of blood, devil dealings, icky demons, cool red capes… Why Faust: Love of the Damned (2000), a horror/sci-fi-/fantasy flesh rodeo wasn’t nominated for an Academy Award™ offends me.

A knock-off of Spawn (1997), another artist type witnesses his mail-order girlfriend being killed with a blowtorch to the eye. Ouch-y. Depressed about this, he is later interrupted by a freakishly weird weirdo whilst trying to off himself by flying off a bridge without a hang-glider. The busybody is the mysterious “M,” who offers suicide boy revenge in exchange for his soul. Standard deal. But sure, why not?

Contract signed in sticky blood, the man grows Wolverine blades on his arms, which he uses to Cuisinart™ his enemies. He also cuts a train in half with ’em, which is cooler than you’d initially think.

Along the way he falls for a supermodel psychotherapist who has daddy issues every since she was sexually initiated at the ripe old age of 11. Then there’s a cop who learns “the truth” and signs up for a soul-searching vacation in Hell.

M’s girlfriend is a sex-dispensing hottie who has a novel way of breaking up with boyfriends she’s just met and had sex with: she kills them, sometimes before they even get their pants back on. Hey, if you’re gonna go…

Based on a comic book, Faust is a clever, fun and sometimes goofy movie for those who enjoy dismemberment and demon sex in-between handfuls of blowtorch popcorn.