There. That’s my joke. Take it or leave it—it’s really all I’ve got. It may be a bad joke, but it proves my point—never open up with a joke. Better yet, never open with a title that happens to be a joke. That’s my final analysis.
Violent Shit is the name, and indeed violent shit (whatever that may entail) is the game. Karl Berger is one of those poor German children who get abused by a mother who is probably a prostitute. Fortunately, there’s always the Devil! In this instance the Devil appears to be Hagrid from Harry Potter, who has warts on his face and a comically long paper tongue. Hagrid offers Karl release from his mother’s neglect through some sort of pact which isn’t really defined. However, years later Karl escapes from a truck taking him to a mental institution, and runs off into the woods. Thus begins our film—a clip show of endless murders probably set in the director’s backyard, on a shoestring budget (featuring what seems to be shoestring intestines).
After that, we really don’t get much of a plot. Karl just keeps killing people through the course of the film. The credits list him with the title of “Karl the Butcher Shitter”, though the social responsibilities of the occupation of “Butcher Shitter” probably only make sense in Germany. (This movie was made in Germany. It’s actually a nice place. I’m not trying to degrade Germans by making a reference to their country in the same breath as the phrase “Butcher Shitter”.) The only times that we cut away from the murders is to watch people piss, swear, and listen to “Red, Red Wine”. Then, suddenly, Karl, as pimply faced as Hagrid was in previous scenes, climbs into the belly of a disemboweled Jesus. Things whirl into place.
Violent Shit is certainly an oddity. Unfortunately, it’s also disgusting. Breasts are cut off. Dead men are castrated. Women are torn open via the vagina. At least Ogroff (the review’s coming, trust me) stopped after killing children! The gore is composed of pink-dyed plastic and cranberry juice. It’s meant to be stuff to make anyone retch, and it succeeds a lot of the time. One gets the impression, though, that director/star Andreas Schnaas (I know!) just did this all for the theatre effect…which actually doesn’t make it any better.
Of course, oddity is always good. Sometimes it can overcompensate, which is definitively good. I saw this movie as a curiosity, more than anything. (Dude, the title!) I’m not sure if I regret it; it’s a curio, in final analysis, and little else. Though the cult following rumors haunt the Interwebs.
Under normal circumstances, Violent Shit cannot be recommended for anyone over the age of zero. Good thing, though, that recommendations are typically ignored. Just like in this movie, which advises us to not “rent or hire this cassette to anyone under eighteen”. Screw you, authority!