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Movie Review: Bullets of Justice (2019)

I really don’t want to review Bullets of Justice.

What I do want to do is watch Bullets of Justice… again, and again…

Why? Because Bullets of Justice is one of the most downright bat-shit insane fucking films I’ve ever set my mother fuckin’ eerie eyeballs upon!

In the aftermath of a third world war, civilization lies in ruins. What few humans survive are sterile and hunted ruthlessly by Muzzles; human/pig hybrids that were created to be super soldiers, but instead became psychos who crave human flesh.

Enter Rob Justice (Timur Turisbekov, who also co-wrote the film) and his mustachioed sister/lover Raksha (Doroteya Toleva); offspring of the late, great, and equally mustachioed Grave-digger (Danny Trejo)… two of the baddest mother fucker’s around, and the only ones truly capable of ending the swine menace once and for all.

Sounds weird, but not as crazy as I made out above, right? Fucking wrong. Dead wrong.

You see also involved in this is a pig with a jet-pack that is home to a crazed dwarf, a robot who also has a mustache, but no mouth (he can still talk though), a pig monster with a hairy asshole for a mouth (he speaks in farts which are subtitled), and a nearly naked male model super villain who is prone to philosophy and doing splits (Semir Alkadi in a spectacularly scene stealing performance).

Splash around tons of naked flesh, extreme gore, unsimulated sex, and buckets of runny pig shit and you got yourself one hell of a fantastic (and funny) movie let me just tell you that my cats n’ creeps!

Co-writer/director Valeri Milev and Turisbekov have created a fully realized universe that is kinda/sorta like Troma adapting Fist of the Northstar for Heavy Metal magazine… there’s so much lore, time travel, bloodshed, and boobs (don’t worry folks, plenty of ye olde dong as well) that this could have easily been two or three films, but instead it’s one film (that doesn’t even run eighty minutes), and that is a wonderful thing as your brain will be well and truly put through the wicked wringer in so many ways, so quickly that the end result is nothing short of a frenzied fever dream.

I could go on and on here, but seriously just head here, and let this mother fucking thing work it’s maniacal magic on ya… now please pass the bacon, I wish to have revenge on those fuckin’ Muzzles post-haste!

 

(*but I’d give it all the mother fucking skulls in the world if I could… )

 

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