WTF Machete Kills

If you thought Machete was over the top, or if you felt that director Robert Rodriguez had gone as far afield as he possibly could in his Planet Terror segment of Grindhouse, you need to run, not walk, away from Machete Kills. Its excesses are so far past those of its predecessors that at times it felt as if Rodriguez was trying to find out if there was anything he could do that would stop us from watching Danny Trejo lumber through a landscape of ever-more-insane violence.

For my small group, by the way, that answer was, no. We were in it the whole way, and we weren't backing out. We laughed, we oohed and aahed, we groaned, we recoiled, and we kept on watching. Trejo's stoic manner only served to amplify the scenery chewing of every other person in this movie, and they all chowed down as if to compensate for his restraint. 

I'm not going to tell you about the plot, because, really, what does it matter?  Machete goes places, kills people, and does it again.  On a Friday night after a hard week, it was a fine bit of insane, ultra-violent entertainment that I enjoyed even as I periodically flinched. 

If you walked out of Machete desperate for Rodriguez to turn the volume to 11 in the next film, you must not miss Machete Kills.