What can one say about Bunny the Killer Thing?
It sounded cute: perhaps a gorier Critters, or a quirkier Zombeavers. Nope. With so much gross, graphic nudity that the mutant lupine penis is basically a main cast member, this eye-watering, Finnish-British concoction of ultra-comic gore and furry porn makes The Greasy Strangler look like a Disney Channel edit of Dead Snow.
After a surprisingly offbeat opening kill (which sets the Savini-esque gore tone) we start off with a familiar setting: an isolated cabin where the idea is to get away from it all. We’re quickly introduced to two sets of characters: a group of friends who vacationing at said wintry shack, and a trio of British ‘business associates’ so ethnically diverse that the Americans I know probably won’t have been this thrown by non-white person with a non-Queen’s English accent since the Scottish-voiced Chinese Hogwarts student in The Goblet of Fire.
Regardless, this is more than enough characters from which to derive a confetti bomb of sub-plots of meet-cutes, bro-bonding, awkward sexual encounters and ‘I’m rooting for this one to get knifed with a rabbit cock’. Maybe I should stop writing these reviews in stream-of-consciousness single drafts. There is some stunning fucking scenery though, which I can’t tell is either photoshopped vibrancy or a legit Nordic paradise.
I said there was gore, and it’s in that grey area of questionable taste and genius operatic splatter. I found myself hoping there would actually be a sequel. It’s going on my list of films to show to people, preferably after food.