If anyone is fed up with the pretentious nitwits that dictate what is good art, chances are you'll enjoy this classic campy tale. The protagonist is a weakling who works as a waiter at a beatnik coffee shop and hangs around psuedo artist snobs, sucking up their every last syllable as if it is a mocha frapuccino. He wants very much to carve a niche for himself in this group of losers and manages to do so when he makes a sculpture out of his landlady's dead cat! True to herd mentality, everyone is soon basking in this guy's coolness, singing his praises, and generally kissing his talentless behind. Only problem is, he keeps making sculptures from bodies! By the time these Bohemians catch on to the fact that this guy may not be so hip after all, the death toll has risen and laughter is abound. Also make sure to look out for the fat bearded character Maxwell, this guy is a total riot. The sad thing is every time I go to an open mike I meet some "poet" who is just like him. Great sardonic humor from the master of the macabre Roger Corman. 8/10
Review of A Bucket of Blood
