Prequels, like good taste, are often not required for viewing sequels. DEATH WISH 3? Perfect example. Relishing in Bronson’s unhinged scum-stomping rampages requires no getting-to-know-ya handshake. TURBULENCE 3-HEAVY METAL also requires no teaser. Just, maybe a chaser? 

The premise is pure support for the subtitle pun “heavy metal”. Self-proclaimed antichrist rock star Slade Craven has decided to film his final concert en route a pastel-upholstered, pretzel-lobbing airplane (which transcends any definition of metal that I can think of). But not all is rosy in hell. Rutger (BLADE RUNNER) Hauer, with a notably larger face, plays a devil worshipping pilot and believes Slade Craven is the “fake messiah”. He and globby-eyed VJ (top model Monika Schnarre) think Craven’s party should be crashed into a church in Oklahoma. This opens the seventh gateway to hell, unleashing the true satan.

(OK, I’ve seen THE BEYOND and thought this hellgate was in Louisiana?!)

Also starring is Craig (NIGHT BREED) Sheffer, who comes across as a less expensive Christian Slater plays a bandana-wearing hacker and he’s a real fan, you know. He actually does cartwheels to the music of Slade Craven!

Then, there is John Mann in remarkably clean corpsepaint, bustin’ colon-spasm dance moves. I felt just embarrassed for him. I’d rank this role with karaoke videos and vaginitis commercials. 

The script is jammed with cheese-packed one-liners that might even make David Goyer cringe. Here is a charming exchange between poseur Anti-Christian-Slader-Craven and the FBI (courtesy IMDB):

Frank Garner: You tell me, right now, what is it that you want?

Slade Craven: I want you… to DIE!

Frank Garner: Okay, we’ll write that down. What else?

There are plot holes and silly inconsistencies everywhere. For example, the pokey passengers puncture through metal detectors, haphazardly scanned by a lady with a theramin wand who doesn’t give a damn enough to demand shoe removal on Bolt Thrower boots (weren’t those the days?). Also, Craven is doppelgang-banged by a “fan” who interrupts him in the dainty airline potty. Then, by narcissus’ nightmares, the same actor plays two roles that have to be different and the plot fails completely.  Clean faced actor Mann even watches himself perform before everything goes down.

Meanwhile in the mandatory side plot, Sheff breaks into the airplanes’ mainframe and witnesses the initial murder-kidnap on the secret cam just seconds before a hot FBI hacker lady busts him. He spends the rest of the film convincing her that she should have sex with him and oh yeah, the plane is in trouble (spoiler: successful on both fronts). OG Craven is trapped in tha closet while poseur Craven runs amok shooting frantic Goths.

OG Craven cuts his ropes and pulls a Thin Lizzy (jailbreak, for the youngsters) and commands the cockpit. Now only King Craven Diamond can land the plane! The FBI gal can no longer resist the Sheff, who gives Craven directions with A VIDEO GAME FLIGHT SIMULATOR. With the entire FBI watching, the real pilot backup must have been taking a whiz?

BUT, the real glory, the true essence of this film is encapsulated in the final ten minutes!

I watched this movie at work risking public humiliation and endured the painfully hilarious junior high hate poem lyrics.

There’s a chill up my spine

I’ve got a feeling divine

I crave chaos and control

JUST SHOOT ME, BABEEE!!

 

She’ll suck the life from your brain

She’ll squeeze the blood from your veins

She’s my little steel angel in a dirty magazine

JUST SHOOT ME, BABEEE!!

(incomprehensible)

GUN LOVE? GUN LOVE? GUN LOVE?

JUST SHOOT ME, BABEEE!!

If you find this movie for ten cents at a garage sale, don’t be a foolio. Get coolio! And watch this in the privacy of your living room with a group of friends who are either very drunk or sugar high. Cartwheels recommended, but move the Marilyn Manson cardboard stand-up over before attempting.

“NOW THE PARTY GETS REAL”