Set in New York City, the film imagines such a huge crackdown on “bath salts” — a real-life drug currently making headlines for its zombie-like effects on users — that one enterprising chemist has synthesized it in cigarette form.
Smoking it, however, proves even more addictive than usual, causing withdrawal symptoms so bad “it will make Trainspotting look like My Little Pony” — not to mention resulting in full-frontal nude dancing, flesh-ripping, phallus-chomping and other R-rated activities. Those who have their faces removed look uncannily like the Red Skull from Captain America.
“Great,” you say, “but is there any martial arts fighting between a cop and a guy in a silver skeleton mask?”
Admittedly, 70 minutes of this is a bit too much, but then again, I love the climactic battle sequence that parodies anime — a nice bookend to the film’s faux educational-film opening. Co-written by Clint Weiler, the script is paved with a few good nuggets of funny dialogue like this exchange:
Him: “I think I killed my girlfriend.”
Her: “We all have problems, Ritchie!”
Cult-film enthusiasts should dig Bath Salt Zombies, especially those into punk rock (I’m not), as the soundtrack includes hard-chargin’ tracks from The Meatmen, The Murder Junkies, The Dwarves and more. Some of the songs play over what have to be the slowest end credits in cinematic history. Seriously, they could use a hit of bath salts. —Rod Lott
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