Don't come

So you're couchin' out one night at the ol' crib, semi-inebriated and seekin' some kick-ass passive entertainment of the televised variety and ya notice this film on your tv listings cable crawl, and so you check it out because it says Jake Busey, Crispin Glover, Jennifer Tilly and Eric Roberts are in it. How bad can THAT be, right?

Two hours later you're cross-eyed and tentatively aroused but more than that, thoroughly confused with what you've just witnessed. What stands out most in your mind is the kinked-out-to-the-nines bondage scenes, of course, with Eric Roberts sticking his gun in Jake Busey's mouth while Tilly (as his wife, a strangely un-sexy porn star) straddles him and Roberts warns him menacingly not to - ahem - enjoy it, shall we say - or he'll blow his brains out. Fun stuff, boys and girls. And then we have Crispin as a traumatized bird freak who accidentally killed a hawk when he was a child and he's still a virgin with an excellent vocabulary who invites himself along on Busey's deranged road trip to hell. It doesn't end too happily and it doesn't make much sense getting there, but, hey, the closing credits are dangerously creative, and Busey is still alive at the conclusion (at least I think he was), so all's well that ends well.