Slither (2006)
Cast: Elizabeth Banks, Michael Rooker, Gregg Henry, Jenna Fisher
Director: James Gunn
Nutshell:  A meteor crashes on a small MAGA-town, USA, unleashing horrors of the most revolting kind.
Review by Omar Khan

 

A meteor crash-lands in the middle of a sleepy small town that seems to embody every imaginable stereotype of idyllic small-town America. Local businessman Grant Grant (Michael Rooker) investigates the mysterious impact site, only to be infected by a revolting alien organism that rapidly transforms him into a festering, decaying host for an intergalactic parasite. From that point onwards, events spiral into an increasingly glorious avalanche of slime, tentacles, bodily fluids and every variety of gloopy unpleasantness imaginable.

James Gunn wears his Troma upbringing proudly on his sleeve. Slither is essentially a lavish, big-budget love letter to the anarchic excesses of Lloyd Kaufman's school of filmmaking, embracing outrageous gore, juvenile humour and gleeful bad taste with infectious enthusiasm.

As Grant's condition deteriorates, his body slowly mutates into a grotesque breeding ground for the extraterrestrial invader, while the unsuspecting townsfolk begin succumbing one by one to an epidemic of parasitic infestation. Before long, the community is overrun by squirming alien larvae, exploding bodies and enough viscous slime to keep an industrial cleaning company occupied for weeks.

The special effects are excellent throughout. Gunn clearly understands that practical gore and exaggerated creature effects remain far more entertaining than clinical digital perfection, and the film revels in every gloriously disgusting transformation. Anyone raised on a steady diet of Fangoria magazine will find plenty here to admire.

The humour is equally broad, although not always as sharp as it perhaps believes itself to be. Slither is consistently amusing, but rarely laugh-out-loud funny. It races from one grotesque set piece to the next with admirable energy, yet somehow never quite develops into anything more substantial.

Watching it again, many years after first seeing it during the brief and ill-fated HD-DVD era (remember those?), my opinion remains largely unchanged.

The film is mildly amusing.

It is also strangely lightweight.

One keeps waiting for another layer to emerge—some sharper satire, some stronger thematic thread or some underlying commentary that elevates the material beyond an affectionate homage to Troma's glorious tradition of cinematic excess. It never quite arrives. The film remains content to be exactly what it appears to be: an energetic parade of monsters, mucus, mayhem and exploding bodies.

There is certainly nothing wrong with that.

Indeed, Slither has deservedly accumulated a loyal cult following over the years, particularly after James Gunn's meteoric rise through the superhero genre prompted many viewers to rediscover his earlier work. Subsequent reissues have only strengthened its reputation, and its consistently favourable ratings suggest that many regard it as a modern cult classic.

I can't quite go that far.

It's an entertaining, well-crafted slice of splattery science-fiction horror that succeeds admirably as a tribute to Troma and 1980s creature features. What it lacks is that elusive extra ingredient—the spark that transforms an enjoyable cult movie into a genuinely great one.

James Gunn's talent is obvious, even at this early stage.

But for me, when it comes to balancing outrageous gore, comedy and genuine cinematic invention, he still doesn't quite reach the level of Sam Raimi.