From Velli Entertainment, the production company who subjected you to The Black Witch Project comes The Pizza Man, a movie so bad the filmmakers couldn’t be bothered to finish it. It clocks in at about 48 minutes long, credits included, and all I have to say is, Thank God. Any longer and I would’ve had to call Amnesty International for this sheer torture.
The story goes like this: There’s a pizza man who kills people. The end. He has no back story. There are no subplots. There are no twists. There are no turns. There are barely any characters to speak of. It’s hard to fathom that the main couple in the film is supposed to be sympathetic: Rico (Allen Kemp) is a drug-dealing, gun-toting thug who speaks about himself in the third person (as in “Rico is a crude stereotype”), and his girl Sharon (Sharon Mull) is whiny, shallow and in Rico’s poetic words, an “ungrateful bee-yotch,” yet we’re supposed to root for them to survive? Not likely.
The budget must’ve been about half a ham sandwich per actor, as much of the film appears to be lit by a single light bulb, or for outdoor scenes, a bug zapper. At some point, the director forgets to pay the light bill altogether and resorts to a night vision effect with the picture quality of a $19.99 web cam. The killer, an anonymous white guy in a trucker hat with a big-ass weed whacker-like pizza cutter, actually could’ve been a decent slasher villain, but in the knuckle-dragging hands of these filmmakers, what was solid fodder for campy fun is wasted.
The Pizza Man isn’t bad in a good way. It’s bad in a squint-your-eyes-and-furrow-your-brow way, followed by a pop-an-Ibuprofen-and-go-lie-down way. Writers-directors-producers Greg Carter and Byron T. have the blood squarely on their hands for this piece of garbage. Thanks for setting the race back 20 years, guys. Now the rest of us have to pick up your slack.