Screened as part of NZIFF 2016

The Greasy Strangler 2015

Directed by Jim Hosking

Hands down the grossest, weirdest and truly most ‘WTF?’ film screening at NZIFF. A perverted combination of John Waters at his appalling best and the warped comedy of Adult Swim’s Tim & Eric.

New Zealand / USA In English
93 minutes DCP
violence and sexual content that may offend

Director

Producers

Elijah Wood
,
Ant Timpson
,
Andy Starke
,
Josh Waller
,
Daniel Noah

Screenplay

Jim Hosking
,
Toby Harvard

Photography

Mårten Tedin

Editors

Mark Burnett

Production designer

Jason Kisvarday

Costume designer

Christina Blackaller

Music

Andrew Hung

With

Michael St. Michaels (Big Ronnie)
,
Sky Elobar (Big Brayden)
,
Elizabeth De Razzo (Janet)
,
Gil Gex (Big Paul)
,
Abdoulaye NGom (Sengalese tourist)
,
Holland MacFallister (Scandanavian tourist)
,
Sam Dissanayake (Indian tourist)
,
Jesse Keen (Big Thaddeus)
,
Joe David Walters (Oinker)
,
Sal Koussa (Ricky Prickles)
,
Carl Solomon (Danny the Crooner)
,
Dana Haas (Big Heine)

Festivals

Sundance
,
SXSW
,
San Francisco 2016

Elsewhere

A mind-melting masterpiece of bad taste and infantile humour, Jim Hosking’s riotous debut introduces us to hot-tempered septuagenarian Big Ronnie and his shlubbly but kind-hearted son Brayden, who together run a pathetic ‘disco tour’ around their dilapidated neighbourhood. Big Ronnie likes to tuck into the greasiest meals Brayden can cook up. Greasy breakfast grapefruit, anyone? Meanwhile, a slime-covered killer is roaming the city. Could Ronnie be the dreaded Greasy Strangler? Hint: yes he is! — MM

“A welcome oasis of filth, depravity and shock in a culture that too often thinks merely being a little weird passes muster. The shocks in The Greasy Strangler don’t just come from the avalanche of profanity, flatulence, fetishized cellulite, nauseating food, cartoon violence and close-ups of phalluses (elephantine and microscopic both). The shocks come from the winding plotting, which follows a dream logic that could only float through a diseased stream of consciousness… It carries a playfulness that should inspire glorious, ‘what the fuck?’ huzzahs from the sort of people who wish John Waters would make movies like Desperate Living and Pink Flamingoes again.” — Jordan Hoffman, The Guardian