Before I was playing movie scoring games with my cat I would play them with my friend Ricky. We would sit in the back of the discount theater and add or subtract from the price of the ticket depending on what was happening on screen at that moment. Playing Skynyrd on the soundtrack tended to earn a quarter; a cameo by an actor we didn’t like might subtract a quarter. At the end it was either worth what we paid for it or it wasn’t.
I want to rate this movie on that scale instead of the cat scale because this movie is seriously terrible… yet it also earned it’s rental money back from me. Now, given that the average cost of renting a movie from Netflix is basically negligible that might not sound like much, but you also have to consider the fact that I can subtract money, too. This film’s main protagonist is a white woman with the worst looking dreadlocks in the world who works as part of a morning zoo radio team, making her the worst of the worst, basically. That’s automatically like negative ten dollars right there, meaning that for this film to break even it had to be worth at least $11 to me. Eleven dollars is “not only would I see this in a theater, I'd see it in a 3d theater” good.
So where does is Lords of Salem's $11 coming from? I think at one point a bigfoot is hanging out at her apartment, just hiding out in the shadows and being all sneaky. That's so fucking random and crazy it's worth $5. Secondly, when Satan shows up he looks like the child of a dwarf and an overcooked turkey, and that's worth at least as much as a Bigfoot sighting. (And no, I won’t link to a still photo of either of those things, because they need to be seen in context to be believed. Or, more accurately, properly disbelieved.) Those two things together were worth enough to break even with the negative costs accrued by the dreadlocks... And then the ending was so abrupt and nonsensical that I laughed outloud at the audacity of it, and then laughed again cause I was relieved it was over, pushing the film over the top.
This was exploitation trash in a classic sense: it wasted ninety minutes of your time, then threw in a whole bunch of crazy garbage at the end in a vain hope to send you home happy. And yet somehow, even though the bulk of it was pretty slow and a lot of it was pretty dumb, it still left a lingering feeling of enjoyment in the back of my mind, because once you're through the boredom you leave that behind, but the Bigfoot sighting lingers like a treasured memory. Now if only there had been some Skynyrd on the soundtrack...
Winner: Me in a close contest