Load of rubbish!!

The film makes a home in your brain and the only cure is to see it again.

This is a must-see and one of the best documentaries - and films - of this year.

Blistering performances.

...this would bring home the gold. It's almost painful to watch. Robert Englund's direction is good, and the actors seem to know what they're doing, but the script is awesomely bad.Three young men with room temperature IQ's rent a house in the Hollywood Hills. They throw a huge party, and discover that the house contains the gate to the pit of Hell.OK. So it's like THE SENTINEL, except with no name actors. The problem is, the young men are dim bulbs and so are the people attending the party. There's no sensible character (I'm thinking Ripley in the original ALIEN) who's trying to bring order out of the chaos. As a result, corpses pile up but nobody cares. The body count rises and the main characters roam the halls uttering dialog that has little connection to actual human speech.After the demons are sent back to Hell (this is punishment?) the house falls apart- well, actually a hastily constructed model of the house falls apart. Morning comes.The characters dig themselves out of the rubble of the house and dust themselves off. We find that the characters who were killed are still alive, because the demons' return to the pit undid the damage they did. Hey, I didn't write the screenplay: don't blame me.The real estate agent comes along and asks what happened to the house, then offers to buy the three young men breakfast. Of course she's got a forked tail, so there's the promise of a sequel. Many years ago Mr. Englund directed an atmospheric horror film called 976-EVIL and did a really fine job. He showed a lot of promise as a director. Now, years later, he's just another hack.

Three kooky Midwestern pals move to Los Angeles renting what they believe is the perfect place, sitting on a hill away from civilization, not knowing that inside the basement is a portal to hell! Three Hollywood hotties, presumed neighbors who supposedly wish to greet them to their new residence, are actually Satan and his minions wanting the naive outsiders to host a party inviting citizens who unknowingly will become victims for the Lord of Darkness.I will admit that the premise wasn't as much a draw as noticing that Robert Englund was returning for only his second film feature directorial stint(..after a twenty year absence). Without even listening to Englund's theatrical audio commentary(..which was a lot of fun), you can tell that Killer Pad, from the very beginning, is aiming squarely for laughs. A lot of Hell jokes and toilet bowl humor which will probably leave many wanting pure scares and not finding them here. Lots of in-jokes regarding reality TV(..a priest, portrayed by Jeff Bryan Davis, was once an alcoholic, drug-addicted human-stunt crazy, modeled after those idiots from Jackass who purposely perform body damaging stunts to inflict harm for laughs by unorthodox means)and LA itself, featuring many eccentric citizens such as porn stars, gym babes, Joey Lawrence(..who provides some humor involving his peers such as a bad impersonation of Bruce Willis and his secretary's address miscalculation which sends him to the party instead of Tobey McGuire's house for poker), a Kinkos teenage nerd with no friends, a fire marshal desiring to work as a guard for the party to find a date, an Asian transvestite who provided them this palatial pad to begin with, and 16 year old Catholic school girls in need of some clothes and a spanking.The three leads were obviously hired for their physical comedy, their faces are colorful and Daniel Franzese, Eric Jungmann & Shane McRae really play their dupes to the hilt, providing the film with prime bona fide morons to root for with all our hearts. These guys work well off each other, embracing their characters' gullible nature. Their horny goof balls are easy prey for the major babes, Emily Foxler(..as Lucy/Satan, who looks fantastic in red), Noureen De Wulf, and Corri English who use their seductive wiles, attractive figures, and supposed willingness for sex as a weapon. The film is loaded with wacky special effects such as Latino "angel" Héctor Jiménez(who attempts unsuccessfully to ward our heroes away from the pad housing hell)who, at one point in the film, spits pea soup, is forced against his will to rip his own heart from his chest and eat it, with his head twisting and spinning repeatedly(..spoofing The Exorcist)before leaping off their balcony. Three models from Sweden are boiled in a jacuzzi. One poor soul's head explodes(..well, the silhouette of his head from behind a closed curtain does)while another's throat is slashed after his body slams into a mirror. We get to see the babes in demon form and the priest, after porking one of the naughty Catholic school girls, converting to a rocker, belting Kiss' "I Just Want to Rock'n'Roll All Night.." in an act against Satan and his/her minions who were about to pulverize the entire group assembled together in the party who hadn't been killed yet. We get a disgusting bathroom sequence featuring a very imposing masculine woman and the toilet she was using. Englund just seems willing to please and the film has a goofy spirit to it, but I thought it wore a bit thin by the time it was over. Englund, during the making-of doc on the DVD, speaks about how his film, shot on a Viper camera, doesn't, at all, use stock;the entire feature is shot all digital. Almost the entire film exists within the "killer pad" and shies away from presenting nudity even when the porn stars show their breasts to our Kinkos nerd. Oh, and there's a dwarf(..who orders the porn gals around) whose buttocks are present throughout for in his cut leather pants for extra tasteless chuckles. I sure do wish Englund would actually make a film built for scares instead of giggles, though. He understands menace and evil portraying quite a many unique and colorful monsters over his career, you'd think Englund could direct a chiller. Still, the film has moments which are quite stylish when Englund doesn't resort to zany hi-jinx and over-the-top cheese. The pad itself has a very vibrant use of red and he establishes this as the film's intricate color because of the story arc involving hell. Englund also uses symbolic imagery involving Satan(..such as a pentagram from discarded beer cans and statues featured throughout the house).

Wow, uh, yeah. What the hell was this. It looks like maybe the people who made this move had fun making it, but this sure was, wow just bad.The over-the-top acting and stupidity was obviously intentional, which isn't as bad as some movies who don't even realize how bad they are, but it was just as stupid.There were also lots of weird sexual-homoerotic things going on here. I don't really know what the hell the deal was, maybe Freddy Kruger (Robert Englund, who played Freddy Kruger, directed this masterpiece) is into that. Also, as mentioned by some other reviewers Daniel Franzese, who was in Mean Girls, has his stomach wrapped in cellophane in a hot tub scene. There is no explanation or rhyme or reason to it, its just that the lower half of his torso is wrapped in cellophane for whatever reason. Yea.The one positive thing this movie has going for it is the death of Joey Lawrence. ANY film the kills Joey Lawrence earns at least a couple stars. But there really isn't anything else positive to say. Andy Milonakis is also in this movie, I think just a handful of people in LA who didn't happen to be working just got together to make this weird movie.

I'll still go with Return of the Boogeyman as the worst movie of all time, but this dud's in my bottom twenty. That's quite an accomplishment. I give very few movies a "1," but this sucker deserves less.Here's the deal. Three teens rent a near-mansion (that they consider a "pad") above the portal to hell. The best parts of this movie (plot, sense, meaning) are awful. What lowers this beneath most other train wrecks is the strive for comedy in every single word uttered by the ugly, flamboyant, s*** eating leads. Honestly, I'd rather have spent 84 minutes in a highway rest stop on National Chili Day.This is the kind of steaming pile that nobody involved with will ever want anything to do with. The actors will blame the director for their bad performances, the director will blame producers about creative control, and producers will blame everyone but themselves.