The Funhouse Massacre | Film Review

Come one, come all! This funhouse is well worth the price of admission.  

The horror genre is ripe with gimmicky plot devices and repetitive narratives that have, for lack of a better term, been done-to-death. Teens throwing a rave in a haunted house, fraternities holding hazing sessions at the scene of a horrific murder, the list of stupid people in the movies doing even dumber things goes on and on. The problem with these films is that they almost universally forget to arm themselves with the one weapon necessary for their own cinematic defense: To be entertaining.

At first glance, “The Funhouse Massacre” appears to offer no separation from that same assembly-line product mentality we are force-fed on a regular basis. Six psychotics, led by Mental Manny (Jere Burns), bust out of a secret prison on Halloween night, and then set off on a mission to open up a limb disbursement program at a nearby haunted house, known as the Macon County Funhouse. Imagine you and a few friends ventured out to a local haunted house, and later realized all of the tortured victims and random bloodletting surrounding you has, in fact, been absolutely real? As this plot begins to take shape, we finally see the layout for the manic glee we are about to endure.

This movie is nuts! Both literally and figuratively. I thought “Funhouse” would be just another tepid blood fest stock-full of bland cliches, and instead found myself laughing hysterically as the bodies ceremoniously piled up. A carnival mallet to the face, a gloriously raucous bathroom brawl that ends with a clever nod to “Very Bad Things”, living dolls stitched to perfection – there are more than enough creative deaths to keep every gore-hound giddy for days and enough laughs to keep the tamer hearts engaged.

Not just open wounds and characters meeting violent ends, “Massacre” is more akin to living inside a Looney Tunes cartoon. Director Andy Palmer deliberately paces his film with enough momentum, whimsy, and humor that the story development occurs naturally on-the-fly, refusing to slow down for a 5-minute monologue while we are stuck waiting and praying for something, for ANYTHING, to happen.

Of course, no film of this ilk would be complete without a host of characters we can somewhat relate to, and that is where Funhouse truly finds its footing. The clever casting of intelligent and capable actors in typically token genre roles is just shy of “Cabin in the Woods” quality. Geeks (Renee Dorian, Matt Angel), sexpots (Sterling Sulieman, Chasty Ballesteros), company stiffs (Robert Englund, Courtney Gaines), debatable heroes (Scottie Thompson, Ben Begley), and the lunatics themselves (Burns, Candice De Visser, Clint Howard, E.E. Bell, Sebastian Siegel, Mars Crain) all combine to create one of the more eclectic and talented casts an indie genre flick has seen in a very long time.

Jere Burns owns the film, as his Mental Manny is a scenery carnivore each and every time his maniacal grin hits the screen. Burns has been the best part in most projects he has been a part of over the years, and here he is gifted with the opportunity to seize center stage as our main whack-a-doo. As the Harley Quinn to Burns’ Joker, Candice De Visser prances and carves a scene-stealing debut as the deliciously demented Dollface. Left with little-to-no dialogue, De Visser relies instead on her physicality and mannerisms (Mannyisms? Copyright that) to deliver the playfully sadistic tendencies of her character. Let’s just say that if this duo somehow earned a spin-off, I’d already have my ticket in hand.

“The Funhouse Massacre” is full of gore, laughs, and more than a few plot twists that left me wanting more. It also did a great job of reminding me to decline those haunted house invites that will inevitably roll in next fall. If you’re looking for a needle of bliss buried in that haystack of horror-hell, this one more than lives up to the ‘fun’ promised in the title.

Aaron Peterson
The Hollywood Outsider