68 Kill

The kind of piece that needs to move 100MPH from first scene to last for you to overlook its flaws. It slows down for too long to recommend the ride.

Those who pick through every motion picture searching for the "problematic" will want to steer clear of "68 Kill." But fans of wicked women may have a new cult favorite.

Nearly a de facto remake of After Hours, writer-director Trent Haaga's lively trailer-park thriller 68 Kill keeps the hostility and loses the self-deprecation, which turns it into an example of misogyny rather than an examination of it.

Nuttier than a bakery full of fruitcakes and sleazier than a cheap strip club, "68 Kill" is a proudly morbid heist movie that wallows in bad taste and still comes off as absurdly funny.

A film which clearly and desperately aspires for cult status, 68 Kill will undoubtedly have its fans, but they won't be people you'll want to have over for dinner.

Not everyone will enjoy this slide down a narrative garbage chute lined with thorns. But viewers and programmers with a taste for midnight-movie outrageousness will cotton to its mix of sleaze, quease and bad-taste absurdism.

This bona-fide grindhouse film constantly goes for violent and gory shock value, yet manages to connect more through its hilarious female characters.

madcap, heavily gendered caper down the backroads of low-rent America

There's no denying that 68 Kill is still a wickedly fun heist movie that subverts genre fan's expectations by playing around with gender conventions, delivering several impressive storytelling swerves that genuinely kept me guessing up until the very end.

68 Kills feels like a short Tarantino story; a bloody late-nighter that features an unstoppable genre role for AnnaLynne McCord.

Sleazy, skeezy, and delightfully breezy, what 68 Kill lacks in earnest observation and character depth, it makes up for in lurid insanity.