Worshipping at the low altar of bad taste, Feast seeks to emulate the Herschell Gordon Lewis style of gore comedy —and meets this dubious goal with as almost slavish a devotion to bad filmmaking as one might ever image. To accurately synopsize the convoluted plot is a task both Herculean and fruit-less. Suffice it to say that Feast revolves around a casting agent and his buddy who call actress wannabes in for line readings, and wind up brutally murdering the girls as a warm-up event for their eventual cannibalization.

What could've been a truly funny (and horrific) satire on the Hollywood system (à la Eating Raoul) is rendered so literally that the mere concept of satiric bent instantly becomes moot. Being that this film was written and produced by a handful of guys with the last name of Rojas, it comes as no surprise that nepotism is no laughing matter. Pity.

Of particular import to erotica aficionados is the casting of Sharon Mitchell as a psychiatrist who counsels one of these sick bastards, only to find that their culinary shenanigans turn the dark side of her libido on! (Mitch now enjoys the notoriety of being the only porn star who has wound up in Z-grade horror film where the lead males slice off and eat her nipples.) Shot in 1992, a bondage club scene features the long-since split team of Holly and E.Z. Rider, while Ron Jeremy makes his requisite appearance as the whiny fat guy at a pool party.

The plot lurches around like an anthrax victim gasping his last breath, while the characters spout reams of dialogue so banal that it makes the proto-typical H.G. Lewis films seem like Chekhov. the whole mess is photographed in a muddy palette which one might generously suppose is 4mm film stock.

The performers (we hesitate to call them actors) can be found either wrapping their lips around the dialogue and enunciating every syllable as if they were speaking it phonetically, or mumbling so incoherently that their utterances barely travel the sort distance to the microphone. Gravitating to the latter style is former AIP biker heavy (and Conan's dad!) William Smith, who graciously remains in a vertical position for the near ten-minute length of his cameo appearance... as a detective who has no clue about what's going on. Neither will the viewer.