Review: ‘Two Hundred Thousand Dirty’ a low-budget, no-chemistry affair
“Two Hundred Thousand Dirty” begins promisingly with luckless hero Rob (Mark Greenfield) dressed in a bunny suit and administering a paddling to a man in Native American gear at the command of a dominatrix, who turns out to be Rob’s girlfriend — all set to the Bollywood “filmi” music of Pamela Chopra.
But once it’s past the five-minute mark, the film never regains the irreverence of its opening scene. Argentine femme fatale Isabelle (Rocío Verdejo) joins the staff of the fly-by-night mattress showroom where Rob toils alongside potty-mouthed Manny (Coolio) and stoner Martin (C. Clayton Blackwell). There she talks her new colleagues into joining her mariticide plot. Isabelle’s target, Antonio (Spencer Rowe), in turn makes a counter bid for Rob to kill Isabelle.
Writer-director Timothy L. Anderson mistakes foul language for wit, and the result is all painfully humorless. Little can mask the low budget, and some competent performances get drowned out by the pervasive lack of chemistry among the cast. Verdejo never makes a compelling case that she’s to kill for, just as Anderson never convinces us that we should care.
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“Two Hundred Thousand Dirty”
MPAA rating: None
Running time: 1 hour, 29 minutes.
Playing: Arena Cinema, Hollywood.
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