Cockhammer:
or how I learned to start worrying and hate Hack Movies
My brain hurts. It pains me with a malignant set of tumors that force me to relive every infected scene of scab that was Cockhammer. These tumors have just become sentient and are now fighting over who gets to eat my consciousness. The tumors rest just above my eyes and have begun to surface and tap dance wildly on my brow.
 If I keep picking at them, it might leave a scar.
Cockhammer is a disease. It is a vile piece of filth that should be purged from film, preferably with fires and re-enactments of the Salem Witch Trials.
If the creators of Cockhammer truly felt they were making a quality film, they should stop doing ecstasy, as the holes in their brain are now the size of your average Chips-Ahoy! cookie with no sign of returning to it's original state. And maybe they have Chicken McNugget-sized tumors to fill those holes.
Don't get me wrong, I sometimes enjoy Kevin Smith, but the inspiration for this film's dialogue is clearly devoted to sucking Kevin Smith's dried-up flaccid penis, praising his very mannerisms and shouting with glee as his sloppy wiener showers them with his unborn retarded children. Lapping up the last of his filth, the creators brought a turkey baster in to soak up the remains from their mouth to inject a false sense of life into their actors and script. Word to the wise: Adding the word "piece" to the end of every word does not make for comedy. It doesn't make you cool or hip, or even anti-hip if that's what you're going for.
Afterward, the sheet of paper drenched in maggots is then handed to a ten year old boy who is then told he's allowed to swear. Jumping for joy, the boy writes a piece of garbage that would make R.L. Stine look like a classic prize-winning novelist.
All the actors are clearly just friends of the director. As a general rule of thumb, just because your girlfriend wants a part in your movie, doesn't mean she should get it. I've seen better actors in pornos. Seriously.
But to this effect, what else should I say? Should I tell you that Cockhammer is about a pair of inept drug addicts who attempt to save their girlfriends from two inadequate assassins, one doing his best Jason Mewes impression the other an identity crisis cliche. Inadvertently the pair of losers stop some asshole with a terrible accent from getting to some dimension, or something.
Story and acting aside, how was this film look and feel, stylistically? Cockhammer was about as creative and clever as shitting in a bag and calling it lunch. The camera work looked like it was perpetrated by an epileptic with Parkinson's Disease, on a boat. Yes, all three of those things. The make-up was poorly applied and many of the props looked like paper mache.
Fuck this movie. On a scale of one to five the movie deserves less than zero. It is the worst thing I've ever seen, and I've seen Flight of the Living Dead.
X-Men Origins: Wolverine was better than this movie. Speed 2: Cruise Control was better than this movie. Troll 2 was better than this movie. The Lake House was better than this movie. Meet Dave was better than this movie. Crossroads was better than this movie. Glitter was better than this movie.
If you ever feel like watching this movie, stop, slit your wrists, and take a bath. It's more relaxing.
-Ryan Freaking Miller.
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