I struggled to decide the number of stars to give this movie, but ultimately landed on the percentage of the movie I deemed to not be boring. To be fair, as a born and raised Kansas Citian and lover of so-bad-its-good-cinema, I absolutely enjoyed the entire ride that was The Devil Came to Kansas City; however, if you didn't live here or know and frequent the KC locations that are featured prominently (and I mean prominently) it might be boring to you. I do feel there just might be enough here to entertain - and almost certainly bewilder - the average bad movie viewer.
First, and let's just get this out of the way, the movie is terrible. The dialogue is sub-comprehensable for anyone with a functional brain and it will be difficult - and sometimes painful - keeping track of what is being said by the actors and pairing that against the plot (I'm using plot here loosely). Some of the acting though is commendable - the main bad guy chews the scenery with what he's given, Jim O'Heir (Jerry/Gerry/Larry/Terry from Parks and Rec) shockingly drops a mf-bomb, and Kirk Fox as the titular Devil is - I must emphasize COMPARABLY - an oasis of sanity in an otherwise mind-numbing journey into madness. Outside of these performances, it is tough sledding, but certainly not the worst part of the movie.
So let's get into the meat of what is wrong here - the story. What is the story? One hour and thirty-seven minutes later I am not entirely sure. At its core, it's Taken-Comes-to-Kansas City, but the locally produced writer/director decides to take a metaphysical (and meta-sensical?) detour for the audience with unintroduced characters and delerious sub-plotlines that (spoilers) ultimately turnout to be the most important element to the overall story.
Writing this review, I am a few adult beverages in at one of the most important KC locations in the movie (ahem, the workers here had no idea the movie was filmed here so did not fully appreciate me delivering the secret password to access the "VIP room") and I feel like may have undersold just how bat guano crazy this movie really is. The first 70% of the movie is a somewhat boring, semi-procedural slog (where it is proceeding, who knows) punctuated by moments of sheer terror to the language processing portion of the brain, but the final act is so God-damned (I am looking at you, Fidel Castro) bonkers, it just might be worth the amount of suck to get there. If you love KC (and the Chiefs!) give it an asterisked* go; if not, watch at your own risk!
First, and let's just get this out of the way, the movie is terrible. The dialogue is sub-comprehensable for anyone with a functional brain and it will be difficult - and sometimes painful - keeping track of what is being said by the actors and pairing that against the plot (I'm using plot here loosely). Some of the acting though is commendable - the main bad guy chews the scenery with what he's given, Jim O'Heir (Jerry/Gerry/Larry/Terry from Parks and Rec) shockingly drops a mf-bomb, and Kirk Fox as the titular Devil is - I must emphasize COMPARABLY - an oasis of sanity in an otherwise mind-numbing journey into madness. Outside of these performances, it is tough sledding, but certainly not the worst part of the movie.
So let's get into the meat of what is wrong here - the story. What is the story? One hour and thirty-seven minutes later I am not entirely sure. At its core, it's Taken-Comes-to-Kansas City, but the locally produced writer/director decides to take a metaphysical (and meta-sensical?) detour for the audience with unintroduced characters and delerious sub-plotlines that (spoilers) ultimately turnout to be the most important element to the overall story.
Writing this review, I am a few adult beverages in at one of the most important KC locations in the movie (ahem, the workers here had no idea the movie was filmed here so did not fully appreciate me delivering the secret password to access the "VIP room") and I feel like may have undersold just how bat guano crazy this movie really is. The first 70% of the movie is a somewhat boring, semi-procedural slog (where it is proceeding, who knows) punctuated by moments of sheer terror to the language processing portion of the brain, but the final act is so God-damned (I am looking at you, Fidel Castro) bonkers, it just might be worth the amount of suck to get there. If you love KC (and the Chiefs!) give it an asterisked* go; if not, watch at your own risk!