Here’s the thing, folks …
I’ve always said that in the case of a film like Dune – both the 1984 David Lynch adaptation and even the two-part 2021 & 2024 Denis Villeneuve stuff – it’s a difficult undertaking to dissect the story if one is entirely unfamiliar with the source material. Even more specifically, I’ve warned readers that discussing Dune and its rather intricate examination of galactic politics, cultural prophecy, and the human condition is best left to those who’ve both read the books and maybe even explored them academically. Simply put, there’s a lot of substance in there. Rather than wander into the fray, risk all credibility by offering a benign observation, and come off instead looking like a rube, I actively choose to leave it to the experts. I might have something to say. I may share reactions in dribs and drabs. But I leave the truly deep stuff to those who think deeply.
Now – like it or not – the same could be said about watching Troma.
This is not to suggest in any way that something like, say, Eating Miss Campbell (2022) is predicated on the idea that there’s this secret oligarchy moving in the shadows to both maintain power and influence while also subverting mankind’s deepest, darkest desires for their own profit. (It could happen, and it kinda/sorta does.) Nor is this to propose that writer/director Liam Regan’s curious tale of peer pressure and carnivorous duplicity is meant to serve as some commentary on the inherent dangers of hero worship or chronophilia infatuation. (That could happen, too, and, yeah, that kinda/sorta does, but no so obviously as the first thing.) My point is that Troma – like Dune – is a theatrical mentality grounded in “disrupting media” that’s best left to those who’ve watched it, enjoyed it, understand it, and embraced it for what it is.
For the record, that hasn’t always been me. While I’ve had the good fortune of exploring Troma sporadically over the years – back in the days of the home video explosion and only recently when older titles are rewarded with new restorations – I’ll attest to smelling a few stinkers along the way. However, I’ve learned through wisdom to set aside my preconceptions to just ‘ride it out.’ In the end, I honestly think I’ve grown as a viewer to appreciate what founder and producer Lloyd Kaufman and his merry band of cinematic extortionists are trying to accomplish: to deliver something that only they can and would even try.
There’s bravado in that. And machismo. And a healthy dash of nihilism.
In that regard, Eating Miss Campbell delivers. But like most of Troma’s entries – and Frank Herbert’s aforementioned space saga – it ain’t going to be for everyone.
I’ve always said that in the case of a film like Dune – both the 1984 David Lynch adaptation and even the two-part 2021 & 2024 Denis Villeneuve stuff – it’s a difficult undertaking to dissect the story if one is entirely unfamiliar with the source material. Even more specifically, I’ve warned readers that discussing Dune and its rather intricate examination of galactic politics, cultural prophecy, and the human condition is best left to those who’ve both read the books and maybe even explored them academically. Simply put, there’s a lot of substance in there. Rather than wander into the fray, risk all credibility by offering a benign observation, and come off instead looking like a rube, I actively choose to leave it to the experts. I might have something to say. I may share reactions in dribs and drabs. But I leave the truly deep stuff to those who think deeply.
Now – like it or not – the same could be said about watching Troma.
This is not to suggest in any way that something like, say, Eating Miss Campbell (2022) is predicated on the idea that there’s this secret oligarchy moving in the shadows to both maintain power and influence while also subverting mankind’s deepest, darkest desires for their own profit. (It could happen, and it kinda/sorta does.) Nor is this to propose that writer/director Liam Regan’s curious tale of peer pressure and carnivorous duplicity is meant to serve as some commentary on the inherent dangers of hero worship or chronophilia infatuation. (That could happen, too, and, yeah, that kinda/sorta does, but no so obviously as the first thing.) My point is that Troma – like Dune – is a theatrical mentality grounded in “disrupting media” that’s best left to those who’ve watched it, enjoyed it, understand it, and embraced it for what it is.
For the record, that hasn’t always been me. While I’ve had the good fortune of exploring Troma sporadically over the years – back in the days of the home video explosion and only recently when older titles are rewarded with new restorations – I’ll attest to smelling a few stinkers along the way. However, I’ve learned through wisdom to set aside my preconceptions to just ‘ride it out.’ In the end, I honestly think I’ve grown as a viewer to appreciate what founder and producer Lloyd Kaufman and his merry band of cinematic extortionists are trying to accomplish: to deliver something that only they can and would even try.
There’s bravado in that. And machismo. And a healthy dash of nihilism.
In that regard, Eating Miss Campbell delivers. But like most of Troma’s entries – and Frank Herbert’s aforementioned space saga – it ain’t going to be for everyone.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A vegan-goth high school student falls in love with her new English teacher and develops a problematic taste for human flesh.”
Sometimes, I hate having to admit that there’s far more to a feature film than I could logically cover in a single column. Going into my fifth decade at casually scribbling my thoughts on what I watch, I’ve learned that even though brevity works whenever it’s tried it also doesn’t grant one the amount of wiggle room that might be needed to mention everything that comes to mind. It’s often been said that ‘the best films make us think,’ and the older one gets one realizes that there’s a lot up there stored in the gray matter which might pop up from the most curious visuals.
However, Eating Miss Campbell is the kind of experience that probably for most works better when the brain is turned off. It’s this zany, antics-fueled Horror/Comedy that might get overlooked by those who glare down their noses at those of us who find such unabashed schlock delightful (rather than truly subversive). The point is that such a story is meant to skewer everything – every idea, every social concept, every norm, every moral, every convention, etc. – and you’re not supposed to take any of it seriously. This isn’t some after school docudrama: it’s entertainment for entertainment’s sake. That’s my two cents, and I’m sticking with it.
Beth Conner (played by the winning Lyndsey Craine) is just one more of those hot goth teens who has embraced the Dark Side of life in pursuit of greater things. But – in screenwriter Regan’s script – she’s also a stereotype – a Horror trope, if you will – that generally only exists in reels as opposed to real life. Made-up to look like a fetishized version of Wednesday Addams, she’s meant to be somewhat fawned over by men and women alike; but never forget she’s a sugary concoction that’s sweet on the outside and lethal on the inside.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A vegan-goth high school student falls in love with her new English teacher and develops a problematic taste for human flesh.”
Sometimes, I hate having to admit that there’s far more to a feature film than I could logically cover in a single column. Going into my fifth decade at casually scribbling my thoughts on what I watch, I’ve learned that even though brevity works whenever it’s tried it also doesn’t grant one the amount of wiggle room that might be needed to mention everything that comes to mind. It’s often been said that ‘the best films make us think,’ and the older one gets one realizes that there’s a lot up there stored in the gray matter which might pop up from the most curious visuals.
However, Eating Miss Campbell is the kind of experience that probably for most works better when the brain is turned off. It’s this zany, antics-fueled Horror/Comedy that might get overlooked by those who glare down their noses at those of us who find such unabashed schlock delightful (rather than truly subversive). The point is that such a story is meant to skewer everything – every idea, every social concept, every norm, every moral, every convention, etc. – and you’re not supposed to take any of it seriously. This isn’t some after school docudrama: it’s entertainment for entertainment’s sake. That’s my two cents, and I’m sticking with it.
Beth Conner (played by the winning Lyndsey Craine) is just one more of those hot goth teens who has embraced the Dark Side of life in pursuit of greater things. But – in screenwriter Regan’s script – she’s also a stereotype – a Horror trope, if you will – that generally only exists in reels as opposed to real life. Made-up to look like a fetishized version of Wednesday Addams, she’s meant to be somewhat fawned over by men and women alike; but never forget she’s a sugary concoction that’s sweet on the outside and lethal on the inside.
You see, dear Beth harbors an uncharacteristic hunger for human flesh. The narrative combination of a closeted cannibal and a Hollywood caricature underscores that We The People aren’t so much meant to take her seriously so much as we are to join her in this journey of discovery through what will undoubtedly be her last year at Henenlotter High (Google ‘Henenlotter,’ and you’ll be better informed). Her impending demise is as much owed to the script as it is to her central desire to ‘graduate’ from Horror films – as the aforementioned trope that she is – to Romantic Comedies. This is the kind of wit that proves all involved are working on a different level. Try to keep up.
(As Steve Winwood sang: “Roll with it, baby.”)
As is the case with tropes and trollops of her type, Beth’s world is in disarray, which is precisely why as a character she’s wanting to escape. Her mother died when she was young, and she’s been raised affectionately by daddy Mark (James Hamer-Morton) and his irrepressibly happy squeeze Frankie (Charlie Bond), a pair who can’t seem to keep their hands, lips, and tongues off of one another, especially in public. Hoping to resolve the school’s morality crisis, Tusk Everbone (Justin A. Martell) has contracted Mr. Sawyer (Vito Trigo) to both keep morale high and the body count low – it is a high school, after all, and school shootings do happen – to facilitate their very own school-sponsored massacre (or not). Beth sees winning this competition as her only way out of all of this madness; and, yes, that includes even eventually escaping the clutches of the oppressive social class instituted by Henenlotter High’s resident mean girls: Clarissa (Emily Haigh), Melissa (Michaela Longden), and Sabrina (Sierra Summers).
See what I mean? There’s a lot to digest in here!
Naturally, Beth’s hormones are in high gear – she is a teenager, after all, and that is the pigeon hole. So when the new English teacher Miss Campbell (Lala Barlow) both takes a shine to the young lady and shares in her desire to eat (human) meat, it’s a match made in cinema heaven; and the two embark on a relationship that’s inappropriate in many more ways than one.
As I warned you right up front, this is the territory that Troma has made its bailiwick from the beginning. By satirizing not only the status quo but also threading commentary on the wider entertainment community through the canvas, the company has built a brand recognizable to fans who aren’t afraid to go where no man, woman, child, infant, insect, or Toxic Avenger has gone before. Yes, it can border on being offensive, and they wouldn’t have it any other way! Eating Miss Campbell is loaded with pot shots at every conceivable topic it even remotely nears, so much so that perhaps the ambition gets in the way of a good joke once, twice, or thrice. Still, I’ll always applaud storytelling that goes too far rather than celebrate stewards unwilling to go far enough.
Craine is an inspired lead. She both looks the part and 'gets' what her job here is. She leads the viewers into every dark corner of her character’s descent into mayhem whether she's the cause of it or not. Trigo – as the central antagonist for a good deal of the action – is a bit obscure: he’s commercially evil in just the right way, but he’s still a bit of a distraction for the true revelations surrounding Beth’s past and present. He gets reduced to little more than a weird plot device; and yet it’s still a weird movie. Kudos to Barlow for making the most of her somewhat formulaic evil queen with a thirst for blood; and even more kudos actress Annabella Rich for both her comic portrayal of the dimwitted school secretary and also letting it all hang out in her character’s denouement.
(As Steve Winwood sang: “Roll with it, baby.”)
As is the case with tropes and trollops of her type, Beth’s world is in disarray, which is precisely why as a character she’s wanting to escape. Her mother died when she was young, and she’s been raised affectionately by daddy Mark (James Hamer-Morton) and his irrepressibly happy squeeze Frankie (Charlie Bond), a pair who can’t seem to keep their hands, lips, and tongues off of one another, especially in public. Hoping to resolve the school’s morality crisis, Tusk Everbone (Justin A. Martell) has contracted Mr. Sawyer (Vito Trigo) to both keep morale high and the body count low – it is a high school, after all, and school shootings do happen – to facilitate their very own school-sponsored massacre (or not). Beth sees winning this competition as her only way out of all of this madness; and, yes, that includes even eventually escaping the clutches of the oppressive social class instituted by Henenlotter High’s resident mean girls: Clarissa (Emily Haigh), Melissa (Michaela Longden), and Sabrina (Sierra Summers).
See what I mean? There’s a lot to digest in here!
Naturally, Beth’s hormones are in high gear – she is a teenager, after all, and that is the pigeon hole. So when the new English teacher Miss Campbell (Lala Barlow) both takes a shine to the young lady and shares in her desire to eat (human) meat, it’s a match made in cinema heaven; and the two embark on a relationship that’s inappropriate in many more ways than one.
As I warned you right up front, this is the territory that Troma has made its bailiwick from the beginning. By satirizing not only the status quo but also threading commentary on the wider entertainment community through the canvas, the company has built a brand recognizable to fans who aren’t afraid to go where no man, woman, child, infant, insect, or Toxic Avenger has gone before. Yes, it can border on being offensive, and they wouldn’t have it any other way! Eating Miss Campbell is loaded with pot shots at every conceivable topic it even remotely nears, so much so that perhaps the ambition gets in the way of a good joke once, twice, or thrice. Still, I’ll always applaud storytelling that goes too far rather than celebrate stewards unwilling to go far enough.
Craine is an inspired lead. She both looks the part and 'gets' what her job here is. She leads the viewers into every dark corner of her character’s descent into mayhem whether she's the cause of it or not. Trigo – as the central antagonist for a good deal of the action – is a bit obscure: he’s commercially evil in just the right way, but he’s still a bit of a distraction for the true revelations surrounding Beth’s past and present. He gets reduced to little more than a weird plot device; and yet it’s still a weird movie. Kudos to Barlow for making the most of her somewhat formulaic evil queen with a thirst for blood; and even more kudos actress Annabella Rich for both her comic portrayal of the dimwitted school secretary and also letting it all hang out in her character’s denouement.
And yet … there’s still more worth talking about with Eating!
Believe it or not, there’s vastly more to its examination of peer pressure, its postulation of date rape, its analysis of sexual dynamics in a school setting, etc., etc., etc. Regan and his talented cast and crew cast a wide net in their attempt to satirize anything and everything in much the same way as did the Zucker comedies of old (1980’s Airplane, 1984’s Top Secret, and 1988’s The Naked Gun). Maybe a case could be made that some of it was a bit too broad – there are some Heathers (1988) allusions that may not resonate as well as they could have – but, ultimately, I think boils down ‘to each his own.’
Eating Miss Campbell (2022) was produced by Refuse Films, Troma Entertainment, and Dereks Dont Run Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at MVD Entertainment Group. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish: as a fan of practical effects, there’s a fair amount of blood splatter in here, and it works swimmingly as well. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Holy mother of dragons, you’re about to be overcome as the disc boasts an incredible assortment of behind-the-scenes, interviews, deleted scenes, outtakes, and more … there’s really more than a thinking person could ever want, so fans will most definitely be pleased.
Strongly Recommended … but, again, this won’t be for everyone.
As a Comedy, Eating Miss Campbell (2022) properly skewers Horror culture so much so that I don’t think it’ll ever quite recover. As a Horror, it’s a film that truly isn’t all that scary, nor is it authentically intended to be. But the unmistakable fact is that – in classic Troma fashion – the story pulls no punches in ignoring the boundaries of – ahem – good taste in favor of crafting a world that exists both in Fantasy and still close enough to our very own to be taken a legitimate … well, with comic intent, that is. None of you reading this are planning a school shooting, are you? Or sleeping with your teacher? Or – gasp – eating human flesh?
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Entertainment Group provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Eating Miss Campbell (2022) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Believe it or not, there’s vastly more to its examination of peer pressure, its postulation of date rape, its analysis of sexual dynamics in a school setting, etc., etc., etc. Regan and his talented cast and crew cast a wide net in their attempt to satirize anything and everything in much the same way as did the Zucker comedies of old (1980’s Airplane, 1984’s Top Secret, and 1988’s The Naked Gun). Maybe a case could be made that some of it was a bit too broad – there are some Heathers (1988) allusions that may not resonate as well as they could have – but, ultimately, I think boils down ‘to each his own.’
Eating Miss Campbell (2022) was produced by Refuse Films, Troma Entertainment, and Dereks Dont Run Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at MVD Entertainment Group. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish: as a fan of practical effects, there’s a fair amount of blood splatter in here, and it works swimmingly as well. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Holy mother of dragons, you’re about to be overcome as the disc boasts an incredible assortment of behind-the-scenes, interviews, deleted scenes, outtakes, and more … there’s really more than a thinking person could ever want, so fans will most definitely be pleased.
Strongly Recommended … but, again, this won’t be for everyone.
As a Comedy, Eating Miss Campbell (2022) properly skewers Horror culture so much so that I don’t think it’ll ever quite recover. As a Horror, it’s a film that truly isn’t all that scary, nor is it authentically intended to be. But the unmistakable fact is that – in classic Troma fashion – the story pulls no punches in ignoring the boundaries of – ahem – good taste in favor of crafting a world that exists both in Fantasy and still close enough to our very own to be taken a legitimate … well, with comic intent, that is. None of you reading this are planning a school shooting, are you? Or sleeping with your teacher? Or – gasp – eating human flesh?
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Entertainment Group provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Eating Miss Campbell (2022) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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