Movie Review: Dead Mine (2012, Dir. Steven Sheil)

Dead Mine

Dead Mine is, in fact, the poorest excuse for a film that I have ever seen. There is not one redeeming quality to it.

If you want to watch this “film”, I instead suggest you go buy a Lady GooGooGaGa record and listen to it while jerking off with a heavy grit sandpaper wrapped around your cock. You will have a much more satisfying experience, and I fucking rawly swear it.

Throughout the hour-and-a-however-long-this-fresh-hell-of-mind-numbing-pointlessness was, I found myself thinking about the scene from Adaptation where McKee gives the advice, “The last act makes a film. Wow them in the end, and you got a hit. You can have flaws, problems, but wow them in the end, and you’ve got a hit.” I kept this scene in mind, hoping oh-so desperately that Dead Mine would do just that. It did not.  Actually, it didn’t even really end.  It sort of just stops happening.

You, as fine readers of You Won Khaaaan, don’t deserve the punishment that would be brought to you just from even having the plot of Dead Mine explained to you. (Editor, do not add plot synopsis.) Dead Mine doesn’t even have the common fucking courtesy to be campy and fun in its badness. Oh, wait, unless you count the one chick who talks like a mongoloid, that, for some unthinkable reason, they give way way way too much dialogue to. It’s not worth watching to find out. Simply put, Dead Mine just a complete fucking waste of time and doesn’t even deserve a review this positive.

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