Twenty-two years after the release of Slime City, writer/director Gregory Lamberson returned with this super-goopy sequel. It’s bigger in many ways (especially in scope and budget) than its predecessor. That said, it’s just as uneven as the original, although admittedly, some of the slimy special effects are sporadically amusing.
After a dirty bomb drops on New York, scavengers Alexa (Jennifer Bihl) and Cory (Kealan Patrick Burke) work their way through the city wasteland. They meet up with another couple (Debbie Rochon and Lee Perkins) and team up to survive. While foraging for supplies, they come across a stash of homemade hooch and Himalayan Yogurt. When they eat and drink the slop, they turn into drippy, oozy, horny slime people.
Slime City Massacre is hit and miss both in terms of tone and humor. It honestly didn’t need the constant black and white flashbacks to the cult leader who created the slime-inducing microbrew, and the whole backstory of the killer yogurt was probably more convoluted than it needed to be. However, it does feature a great scene where Debbie turns into a bathtub full of orange goo and her boyfriend STILL manages to find a way to have a little sexy time with her.
The cast is ideal for this sort of thing. Rochon is a lot of fun as one of the mutating slime junkies, and her final form is pretty sweet too. I also enjoyed seeing Roy Frumkes turning up as a greedy land developer (named “Ronald Crump”). His appearance here makes sense since these films have always been a homage to Street Trash. (A bottle of Tenafly Viper makes a cameo.) Also, it’s hard not to like any movie that features Lloyd Kaufman disintegrating before the opening credits. While it does take a while to get to the gory bits, when the blood and slime finally start flowing, there’s a great gag where someone gets wine bottles shoved into the eyeballs.
I can’t say Slime City Massacre was worth the wait, but it’s about on par with Slime City. In fact, I’d probably watch a third installment if Lamberson ever concludes the trilogy. Hopefully, he won’t wait another twenty-two years to make another one.
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