I Love Horror – A horror blog devoted to the critical, analytical, and cynical assessment of the horror industry and horror films.

What is there to say about Bruce Campbell that hasn’t already been said? The man is revered as a god among select horror fan boys, perhaps rightly so given his role as Ash, the Deadite-slaying anti-hero in the Evil Dead trilogy. This says nothing of his many other films, all straddling the fine line between pure gold and total dreck, but this is what made him a star. My Name Is Bruce is the culmination of a near-30 year career at the top of the bottom, and a homage to a man whose success is dictated by campiness and unintentionally hilarious direct-to-DVD science fiction and horror films. Unfortunately for the All-Mighty Chinned One, My Name Is Bruce does little to foster an image of a man scorned by Hollywood and accepted by the underbelly of the film world only to rise to the ranks of B-movie god king and everything to make you lose what little faith you had in a movie about Bruce Campbell directed by Bruce Campbell starring Bruce Campbell.

Deep breath.

This movie sucks. Hard.

By this point the plot is no secret to any self-respecting fan of horror. Portraying a heavily stylized and satirical version of himself, Bruce Campbell is down on his luck. His agent sucks, he’s going through a messy divorce, and he’s an alcoholic who is not above drinking whiskey out of his dog’s bowl. One night he’s visited by an uber-fan who kidnaps Campbell, believing he is the only man capable of stopping Guan-di, the ancient Chinese god of the dead who has recently been unleashed upon the poor, unsuspecting townspeople of Gold Lick.

What follows is a self-referential and inside joke-laden hour and a half filled with terrible acting, terrible dialogue, and offensive Chinese stereotypes. Bruce is a complete dick in this film, his acting completely over-the-top and unbelievable by any stretch of the imagination. The primary antagonist is Guan-di, a fictionalized account of Guan-Yu, a general during the Eastern Han Dynasty. Depicted as a god who watches over the dead, he is also apparently the patron saint of bean curd, a fact completely overlooked in history textbooks. All he had to do was look scary and swing his giant blade around to pull off a convincing acting job, but this was occluded by the terrible effects used to make his eyes glow and the sound he emitted when near, reminiscent of a carnival haunted house sound effect.

Aside from Campbell and other horror favorites (Ted Raimi plays three different roles, all of which were funnier than Bruce himself), the cast was comprised of mostly local actors who thankfully didn’t do much acting so much as they sat around and served as seat fillers. This clearly didn’t do anything to help the film, but I don’t think it necessarily hindered it.

I imagine much of my disappointment is due to the overwhelming amount of hype it has received over the past year or so, leading me to believe this film is truly the vehicle by which Jesus Christ in the form of Bruce Campbell has chosen to reveal himself. Though funny at times, it does little to foster any more appreciation for the storied career of Bruce Campbell, which is lampooned from the very beginning and doesn’t let up until the very end.

Therein lies its biggest problem: it lacks subtlety. Throughout the mind-numbingly unbearable hour and a half, the movie wears its premise on its sleeve as a badge of honor. The movie is if nothing else satirical to the bone, but it’s incredibly aware of this. As a result, we’re treated to a film that’s so over the top, it isn’t making fun of Bruce Campbell, it’s making fun of itself.