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Sam Butler (Ari Levin) has just found out that his wife Ruth (Elizabeth
Anderson) has been cheating on him - so he brutally kills and decapitates
her. Then he takes her head on a ride through Las Vegas, picks up a hooker
(Tina Prunty) along the way, ties her up, stabs her and tears her apart
with the help of his car. After that, he witnesses a bunch of attractive
girls going to a certain house and decides to spy on them ... And
here's where the focus of the film totally changes. Up to now, this has
been a cheaply made serialkiller flick, sure badly acted, not very
inspired and further marred by terrible 1980's hairdos - but at least it
has been reasonably gory. Now though the attention shifts to a group of
(female) oil wrestlers meeting at pregnant Barbara's (Barbara Bell) house
- and what do they do? Oil wrestling? Nope, they just sit around, chat,
bitch about each other, play truth or dare, order and eat pizza. This all
takes up an enormous chunk of screen-time, before they at least watch one
of their matches on TV. Finally, it seems that even Sam has gotten bored,
so he barges in, threatens them with his gun, and forces one of them to
tie up the others at gunpoint ... and from the looks of it, her ties are
incredibly easy to escape, they look as if they would fall off by
themselves actually - yet the girls all complain about the tight bondage,
and only one (Rebecca Gandara) manages to free herself ... and is shot
dead as a thank you for her efforts. With the girls all neatly tied up,
Sam takes them upstairs one after the other, to kill and dismember them in
incredibly brutal ways, and of course he doesn't forget to cut pregnant
Barbara's stomach open and take out the embryo, just for shock value. Eventually,
and only after all the girls are dead, an incredibly noisy cop in a
sleeveless t-shirt enters the house for no apparent reason and manages to
sneak up on Sam, who's now lieing in the bathtub surrounded by bodyparts
taken from his victims. He forces Sam to put his hands up at gunpoint ...
but failing to notice that it is not actually his hands he puts up,
Sam is able to calmly pull his gun and shoot the cop before he knows
what's going on ... ... and this punchline is way better than
anything that preceded it, as Las Vegas Bloodbath is nothing but a
run-of-the-mill serialkiller movie with some gruesome effects that are not
really carried by a less than thought-through script, which is padded out
by incredibly unremarkable scenes (first and foremost the incredibly long
sequence about the oil wrestlers chatting and doing uninteresting stuff). Not
worth your time and money, really.
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