Killer Condom

Long before I understood the usage of contraceptives, Killer Condom taunted me from afar. How could it not? Troma specializes in creating vivid and often ridiculous sleeve art for its many films. Bold and brilliant like a Trapper Keeper but fundamentally banal and childlike in design. Killer Condom struck me as a film I'd have to eventually watch, possibly upon maturity cause Heaven knows when mother would allow me to rent such a distinguished "exploitation" picture. Like few other children, I suffered from a rapidly declining and accelerating method of childhood restrictions which led to Wes Craven's New Nightmare one minute, then on to strict reruns of We're Back! A Dinosaur's Story. From this essence of relinquished motherhood authority is from where my standards of film constantly rise and fall. I approach every film, every movie, with intentions of giving my regards to the absurd, the serious, and the stoic with nary a spiritual interruption.

Flash forward 13 years later and I've finally gotten my hands on a copy of Killer Condom for honest consumption expecting not much from a film thats backbone structures around "creative consulting" of H.R. Giger's and the special effects of art-horror master Jörg Buttgereit. Whenever I encounter a specimen of filmmaking that relies on girth from foreign names and titles, it tends to alert me of an otherwise incompetent film and gladly, Killer Condom is not the case. Of the imperfectible horror/comedy genre, Killer Condom stands as the only one I've seen that has demonstrated courageous and biting satire while keeping the horror and absurd elements apart, careful not to spoil the mix. It can be argued that this films (few) shortcomings overpower the strong arm of Killer Condom but I dare you to find a more suitable paradigm of light appearing amongst darkness. Better yet, up the ante. Find me another murderous prophylactic film and we'll depart with even ends.


Encounter gay detective Luigi Mackeroni and experience his seedy, colorful world in New York City. But unlike most vantages of the Big Apple, this one is entirely Teutonic and representative of a cleaner scum that stalks the alleyways. To call his world perfect would be a homosexually charged lie but to call it safer would be a correct and logical assumption of a modern day world turned less ethnic. After all, the death of the west is upon us. Soon into the tale, we witness a key Hotel becoming home to a species of sentient condoms that sever a male's favorite appendage. As later uncovered, this manmade species requires no sleep, no food, and lives only to carry out orders from a strung-out religious sect also seen in Crimson Rivers II: Angels of the Apocalypse.


Soon into Killer Condom, it's revealed that the clockwork foundation of this film mainly mocks three things: homosexuals (while at the same time redeeming them), Sicilians, and least importantly, Christians. As every film before it in some way mocks Christ loving ways, the main humor is derived from making Wops look silly and culture crazed from something evidenced by the nonexistent. Entertainment at its finest. When Killer Condom's not lampooning goombahs it's focusing its targets on the homosexual, transsexual, and biasing out the heterosexual as being a balanced creature. All this and more makes Killer Condom a very dizzying experiment in politically incorrect humor that shines down some truth in the midst of a hypersexual drive that will leave room for many messy castrations and disgusting creatures that crave cock - and I'm not referring to the "killer condoms."


What has been created is a film that has reached the maximum height of memorability. People from all walks of life will discover this film in some way and always be tainted with its presence. Killer Condom is a film whose grasp you can never really escape from. It is performance art based in crude, vile, and vulgar entertainment. Whether or not you can manage to dismiss this film as trash, the theory of low quality cinema stands triumphant with a title - no, an image, that will never leave your mind. Be it years later when you're bedding down a local broad and that contraceptive on the tabletop casts a smug grin on your face when you recall a specific time when such low brow entertainment ignited a bonding effort on behalf of two people, Killer Condom is exactly what I go to the movies for. I want to laugh, I want to squirm, I want to feel. Being human isn't such a request and Killer Condom kindly fulfilled my wishes. One of the few classics that the Troma library has to offer. Don't miss Killer Condom.

-mAQ