It's October. Time to talk horror. This year I'm reviewing a different horror movie each day of the month.
First we lost Kevin Bacon. Then we lost Fred Ward. Then I stopped giving a shit. Fast forward several years later and Netflix recommends I watch Tremors 5. I thought, Hey, why not?
I'll tell you why not: Jamie Kennedy. As soon as I saw him put on a helmet so that his stunt double could ride around the opening credits on a motorcycle for five minutes I almost turned the fucking movie off. Here's an actor who sucks so bad, instead of trying to make better movies, he made a documentary to openly attack his critics. What a fucking crybaby.
Neither is the addition of piss humor. This movie seems to think piss is hilarious. Getting pissed on, drinking piss, singing deliriously while spreading piss all over your body. I guess these things could be funny, but they're not here. And while Michael Gross still seems genuine as Burt, the filmmakers think they can make us laugh simply by having him do little more than speak in military jargon. Are words like "rendezvous" really that funny? (Let me suggest Nick Offerman for the inevitable reboot. While we're dream-casting, let's have Kevin Bacon move to Ward's part. I've heard Bacon wants to be involved with a new Tremors anyway, so why not? It couldn't be any worse than this one.)
Honestly, I think the franchise derailed with the addition of shriekers and ass-blasters. I get that using graboids again would have made the sequels exactly like the original, and some of the solutions to the shriekers' thermal vision were fun in Tremors 2, but you just can't generate suspense when your antagonists are literally farting fire. And speaking of those creative solutions we liked so much (pole-vaulting to a truck, for one) there's nothing as fun as that in this movie.
Eh, I won't spoil it. Best to let you throw popcorn at your TV, too.