Wednesday, January 7, 2015


A detective who can't seem to find shirts with sleeves takes out the Yakuza in this dreadful Ulli Lommel film. Featuring scrunchy socks, white hi-tops, white sport coats, pornstaches, wooden acting, stilted dialogue, unconvincing knife throwing, unconvincing furniture dusting, several unconvincing massages, and a continuity defying sleeveless vest, the detective makes the archetypal hero's journey, and by "makes the archetypal hero's journey" I really mean "uses unnecessarily large binoculars, says the phrase 'scrambled eggs and blood', inexplicably cleans his gun, does a little stripping, and becomes a sushi chef", and who isn't familiar with that old trope? Surprisingly enough, Overkill isn't even close to being the worst Ulli Lommel film I've seen. In fact, it almost resembles a film.

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