The Toxic Avenger Review: Peter Dinklage Brings Soul To A Gore-Soaked Comedy Of Anarchy [Fantastic Fest 2023]

What happens when you take the z-grade world of Troma — a filmmaking universe defined by utter anarchy, rejection of societal norms, and unashamed embracing of filth and degradation — and toss a lot more money, a handful of recognizable movie stars, and thoroughly modern sensibilities at it? Writer/director Macon Blair tries to answer that question with his remake of Troma's most famous creation, "The Toxic Avenger." And in doing so, it's clear Blair was making a movie for one person and one person only: himself. The Troma DNA is clear, but this is a movie made by someone who grew up watching crummy horror movies on VHS, swapping dick jokes with his buds while passing a joint, and probably memorizing entire episodes of "The Simpsons."

Blair just blew god knows how much of Legendary Entertainment's money on a feature-length collection of jokes and asides and quips and sight gags built to make about a dozen people laugh. And if you are one of those dozen people, "The Toxic Avenger" is going to be your new favorite movie. But if you're allergic to its deranged, deliberately off-putting sensibilities, this film will play like torture.

And one gets the impression that Blair and his cohorts wouldn't have it any other way.

But "The Toxic Avenger" isn't just an exercise in goofy eviscerations and dick jokes (but there are plenty of both). Blair knows that the z-grade filmmaking of Troma was an active rebellion against the systems that control and create popular art. So, now armed with an actual budget, he's made a film that delights in poking every bear imaginable. Villains include a megalomaniac CEO hellbent on preserving his youth at all costs (Kevin Bacon, going as extreme as Dinklage goes restrained), preppy criminals, gun-toting men's' rights activists declaring war on wokeness, and, in the film's sharpest moments, a labyrinthine medical insurance process that exists to confound rather than heal. Blair's world, a live-action cartoon landscape that recalls the hostility and randomness of a pre-Code Max Fleischer animation, is one where there is a threat and a humiliation lurking behind every corner. The world is broken, the film says. The only thing left to do is smash some heads and kill 'em all.

This shotgun blast approach to satire recalls the golden years of "The Simpsons," where everything is a target. With the dissection of so many horror tropes laid out on his cinematic corkboard, Blair's work probably feels more like a "Treehouse of Horror" segment than a proper Troma movie. The righteous anger and grotesque stupidity punches up. Right in the nuts.

As for the jokes themselves ... Well, your mileage may vary. I found myself often sitting stone-faced through the biggest gags, but chuckled endlessly at the dozens of tiny jokes sitting in the margins. The biggest laughs are the fastest asides, the wild production design choices, and the costuming choices that make one wish they could've sat in on that department's meetings (An evil henchman is a breakdancer dressed like the Zodiac Killer — if that makes you chuckle, you're the audience here). I laughed extremely hard at a throwaway line about a mob forming, and a conversation about a zamboni killed me. That's worth sitting through a few radioactive pee jokes that don't quite land.