Admirable film.

I wanted to like it more than I actually did... But much of the humor totally escaped me and I walked out only mildly impressed.

As somebody who had not heard any of this before, it became a curious phenomenon to sit and watch a film and slowly have the realities begin to click into place.

It is a whirlwind of delight --- attractive actors, stunning couture, spectacular sets and outrageous parties. It's a feast for the eyes. But what really makes this dramedy work is the acting.

In his calculated bid for cult status, director Alberto Sciamma makes Killer Tongue as weird and wacky as possible, throwing in such outlandish ingredients as a talking extraterrestrial tongue that inhabits the mouth of a female bank robber, a group of poodles transformed into drag queens, a nun given a sexy make-over by the aforementioned poodle people, a fascistic wig-wearing prison guard with a pet dove, and all manner of bloody deaths including lots of full body explosions; the result is a predictably garish, gaudy, gory and extremely camp exercise in cartoonish excess (think John Waters' films/Earth Girls Are Easy/Priscilla, Queen of the Desert mixed with any other outrageous nonsense that crosses your mind), but it is one that frequently falls flat on its outlandish ass, not just by being dreadfully unfunny and extremely irritating at times, but for simply for trying TOO hard.The cast, clearly believing that this film would become a favourite with the B-movie crowd, thus immortalising them in the pantheon of cult cinema, put in embarrassingly OTT performances, desperately trying to inject a manic sense of fun into proceedings but failing spectacularly. Robert Englund is particularly cringe-worthy in his role as the jack-booted guard who leers at photos of hunky men in the john, but everyone else gives him a good run for his money. Meanwhile, Sciamma ladles on almost every vulgar and ostentatious camp cliché possible, only drawing the line at delivering a musical number involving gay dwarfs in sequined tutus and a troupe of fire-breathing gimps.About the only people who deserve any praise for this mess are Bob Keen and his Image Animation team, who don't let the inanity of the whole project prevent them from providing some impressive animatronic tongue effects and quite a bit of nice splatter.

Here's a horror version of PRISCILLA: QUEEN OF THE DESERT (they wish!) starring Melinda/Mindy (RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD 3) Clarke as Candy, a desert dweller who pulls off a bank heist with boyfriend Johnny (Jason Durr). He ends up in a South-of-the-border prison run by the sadistic Chief Screw (an overacting Robert Englund in a toupee). She and her beloved pet poodles end up in hiding at a gas station convent until they're transformed by a newly fallen meteor. The dogs turn into obnoxious drag queen "bitches" and Candy develops a VERY long, talking, killing forked tongue she can't control. Thugs looking for the stolen loot and other assorted numbskulls add extra complications.First off, Clarke is fantastic and makes what there is to make of this movie. You watch her and see someone very funny during the slapstick scenes, very convincing during the horror scenes and VERY sexy in various wigs and disguises, including an eye-popping, skin tight latex bodysuit...and wonder how come this actress isn't a huge star. It's too bad the rest of this cult attempt doesn't live up to her promise.Blame director/scripter Sciamma, who thinks the outlandish premise alone is enough to sustain laughs...but his vulgar gags, annoying supporting characters and stupid dialogue are no substitute for a real sense of humor. Another nail in the coffin; the film looks cheap, lots of garish colors and sets are strangely muted by muddy photography and the dusty desert locales. Luckily for Sciamma that Clarke is in his film, because she alone keeps you watching.

Can A-Pix ever, ever, ever do anything right? This movie was meant to be seen on TV in a letterbox format. Since A-Pix doesn't even believe in pan and scan, we see whole scenes where a shoulder on the left side of the screen talks to a shoulder on the right side. Of course, not that you are missing much. This movie is incredibly bad. It's very hard to enjoy a film where characters are screaming at the top of their lungs during 80% of the movie for no reason.

Impenetrable rubbish. This has to be one of the worst movies I have ever seen. The dialogue is ghastly, the horror effects are laughable. The only thing that kept me watching was the ever-splendid and totally underrated Michael Cule.