Item Description


In 1986, writer-director Bret McCormick and partner-director Matt Devlen grabbed a Super 8 camera, hit the backyard, and went to town. The results were Ozone! Attack Of The Redneck Mutants and The Abomination; two trash-gore films which were shot back-to-back in Texas, edited on video, then subsequently lost to the sands of video store time. As they say, patience is often a virtue. Within months of procuring a copy of the elusive Abomination, the nearly invisible Ozone quietly crept into my collection. Its sedate arrival could not have been more apt. However, I cannot speak for the red stains, spoiled odors, and structural damages which blanketed my home in the aftermath. Goddamn that ozone layer.

Things are tough all over for the hillbillies of Poolville, USA. Coughs. Pukes. Mutations. Murder. The cause? You got it. Ozone depletion. It is within this oh-so-very-1986 framework that Ozone quietly makes a stand for uncomplicated mayhem. Plot is scarce; outcome is nil. Basically, tough cookie Arlene and big time nerd Kevin (Blue Thompson and Scott Davis respectively, both from The Abomination) run, drive, and look around while a few mutated zombies maim the townies. Incidental scenes of redneck character development (shotgun blasting, making out, flossing) are interspersed. A superbly frightening mad beast appears in a hole, but is soon overshadowed by a stirring stand-up act. And a mid-panic lunch break. Complete with more pukes.

The Abomination stands as a bizarrely inventive, lo-fi trash epic. Its stature grows and grows with each passing day. Ozone is that film's afterthought; still focused on repetition, rampant gore, and arbitrary weirdness, but with a lazier attitude. Dark layers are exchanged for odd comedy. Growling synths make way for vaudeville library cues. Visuals hop between leisurely desolation and anxious stutters. But technical stuff aside, Ozone is all about the extremes. Blood on the walls. Guts on the floors. Barf on the appliances. Cars and houses destroyed. Faces lost in a sea of black, purple, and yellow muck. The insane level of dedicated, hands-on havoc is a spectacle in itself, and that fact, combined with an avoidance in overt junior high snickering (bite it, Redneck Zombies), is what makes Ozone attractive. Even when it's dead boring.

If we lose the ozone layer, we'll have more movies like this one. Pass the Aqua Net.