Directed by Tesh Guttikonda and Mitch Oliver
Written by Al Kaplan
Starring:
- Amanda Fix as Amy
- Matthew MacCaull as Keith
- Brenna Llewellyn as Savannah
- Elyse Levesque as Kathleen
- Josh Zaharia as Jeffrey
- Cassandra Sawtell as Juli Ann
- Richard Harmon as Vern
- Kevin McNulty as Neville
Rating: 
Groovy euphoric sadism chewing on meaty social platitudes. Screenwriter Al Kaplan delivers an offbeat satirical twist on the anthropophagous slasher by subverting the stereotypical expectations of institutionalized class prejudice. It’s a fine social farce as long as it’s only and exclusively a subversive spin on the genre. But this Canadian shocker helmed by Tesh Guttikonda and Mitch Oliver plays at being cerebral without actually being so and neglects the rudimentary crassness that makes these exploitation proceedings so wickedly funny.
I don’t mind the use of truisms, much less when they constitute a benign satire of genre paradigms, but Lowlifes is toneless; sometimes leaving me questioning whether it was really a well thought out satire or just a cheesy post-modern parody. I’m inclined to think it’s more of the former, but I still remain more skeptical about it than certain. The premise is ably executed through the insertion of a malevolent, predictably unpredictable scenario (those who have already seen it will appreciate this oxymoron). A modern-day portrait of the idealized Western family – conservatives’ wet dream – husband (Matthew MacCaull), wife (Elyse Levesque), daughter (Amanda Fix) and son (Josh Zaharia) are traveling down the road in their motorhome and at one of their barbecue stopovers run into two rustic locals who alter the fate of their trip. The nod is to Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and it’s nicely done. And when the over-the-top early plot twist occurs the gushing feelings of shock are refreshing. However, the movie already said everything it had to say right in that blood-soaked change of perspective, and the flaw lies in the fact that it still has a whole movie ahead of it with nothing to say that it hasn’t previously stated.
The hysterical performances at least go a long way toward keeping the framework from losing the heart of its social thesis, but the filmmakers’ wonky dual direction squanders too much time on corny bits – which come across more as padding than as integral to the story. Ultimately when the tasty gory climax erupts, Lowlifes proves its point – once again – and when it puts an end to that feast of sensational carnivorous mayhem, it proves its bloody point all over again. It’s a vicious cycle that renders the boisterous style without specificity, which leaves me wondering what would have happened if that twist had never taken place and the plot had followed the predictable course we’d all come to expect? Sometimes sticking to genre clichés seems to work a hell of a lot better than dodging them.