Jarv’s Schlock Vault: Troll 2

the vault logo


Nilbog! That’s Goblin backwards!

Due to the vagaries of Lovefilm, I find it far easier to get my hands on movies that nobody else in their right mind would touch. (They actually have put my long-suffering wife on some sort of pervert list because of this.) So I’ve decide to put together a series of reviews unearthing some of the lost ‘treasures’ of shoddy filmmaking. I’m not going to go into great depth plotwise with these films- and in most cases the plots don’t matter- but I will be putting up spoilers. So consider yourselves warned

First up, is the film frequently labelled as ‘Worst of all time’: Troll 2 (classy poster eh?)

Untitled-1 copy

To begin with, it isn’t the worst film of all time. It’s nowhere near- there are far greater displays of ineptitude out there than this little gem. However, it would be insanity to pretend that in any way at all it’s a good film. Secondly, it has absolutely nothing to do with either the monster troll, the annoying internet nerd troll, the plastic toy troll or even the film which it is allegedly the sequel to . Why it’s called Troll 2 is one of those mysteries that will never be properly explained, sort of like Wales.

The plot is mostly incidental. A traumatised child and his family decide to go on holiday, in some sort of weird timeshare thing, in an unnamed part of the American countryside that looks suspiciously like rural Italy. They are inexplicably followed by the daughter’s douchey boyfriend and his mates who serve as cannon fodder. The town they pick, (the much lampooned Nilbog), is, it turns out, overrun by evil vegetarian goblins who want people to eat green food that will turn them into plants, which the goblins will then eat themselves. Shenanigans and hilarity ensue, the Goblins all are killed and the family escapes. Or do they?

Untitled-3 copy

Pretty run of the mill stuff really, but there are several segments that elevate it to ‘craptastically awesome’ status. Firstly, the traumatised child can talk to his dead Grandpa.  In movies of this type, the old ghost relative (think Poltergeist) is usually a source of sage wisdom and emotional comfort. Not in this case- the fact that the drippy little git thinks Grandpa is still talking to him is the sign that he’s nuts, and anyway Gramps has fuck all in the way of useful advice, instead he just issues a series of demented warnings that the child absolutely has to act on- regardless of how inappropriate the act and how potentially disastrous the consequences will be for the snot nosed little motherfucker. For example, in one particularly memorable scene, the kid (no point remembering his name) takes dead Gramps at his word, drops his trousers and hilariously pisses all over the family’s dinner.

You can’t write comedy like that.

Aside from that, the old git seems to be a right miserable so and so. Although to be fair he does come back to life to help kill one Goblin (how he manages this is just one of many things that they either couldn’t be arsed to explain or didn’t have the talent to), and reveal the weakness of the whole tribe.

Secondly, there is, for want of a better expression, a sex scene involving a vast amount of tainted popcorn, one of the douchebags and the head Goblin. This scene can only be described as inspired and is one of the most unintentionally hilarious scenes ever put to film.

The Queen Goblin (momma goblin, I suppose) is played with aplomb by Deborah Reed, who struggles goblinfully with truly wretched dialogue, laughable makeup and frankly bizarre fake teeth. This is just one of a series of truly lamentable performances, but special note must go to Connie Young as the teenage sexpot. Although, to be fair, she does get all the worst lines- “I’m not into group sex” leaping to mind.

As for the goblins themselves, well, fuck me up the arse with an epileptic porcupine if they all don’t look identical. Check the photo out below- those 2 goblins are clearly wearing the same mask.The effects in this are truly special- and by special, I mean ’smearing shit on the big bus window’ special. They clearly only had 2 moulds at most, and a series of boneheaded closeups just emphasise how fake they are. It’s just madness to expose your biggest problems like this, but kind of indicative of the film as a whole. If you’re going to fuck up, then you may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.


This really is truly dreadful costume and makeup work. It’s mystifyingly bad and simply astounding that someone was actually paid to do this. Even if I suspect that they were  possibly paid in animal skins.

The score was banged out by a tone-deaf monkey on an 80’s Casio synthesiser.

There is a question that must be asked about this film: Why is it so incompetent? Unusually for this type of movie, it can be partially answered. My research (Well, IMDB) tells me that the director and crew were Italian and the cast were American. To make matters worse the Americans spoke no Italian and the Italians spoke not a word of English. To further compound the fuck up, the director failed to reach even a basic level of competence- check out the scene where the camera lovingly pans over the teenage sexpot’s sweat glistening abdomen as she grunts away lifting weights to bad 80’s music. Surely this must be to establish her as lust item, there’s no other reason for it, and just to bang the point home (pun intended) about what a naughty little fuckpiece she is, the douchey boyfriend busts in and she delivers the group sex line. However, once the film proper starts, well, they just forget about it and little miss filthy minx magically morphs into a slightly annoying girl next door. I don’t get this- if you are going to spend time on cinematic onanism, it’s not unreasonable to expect to see her in a variety of skimpy outfits for the rest of the film (not to mention at least a couple of gratuitous titty shots), and yet the clueless div decides to dress her in baggy jeans and jumpers. Why?

The man really is a clown shoe. He made terrible decision after terrible decision, and the sum total of his glorious failures make Troll 2 a masterpiece of low rent cinema. Just avoid anyone of those weird internet cults that treat it like a religion- they do exist and all they want to do is turn you into a giant cucumber and sit down to a nice sandwich in front of a polystyrene Stonehenge.

You really don’t want that, do you?

I would be utterly remiss if I didn’t point you in the direction of www.troll2themovie.com which actually passes beyond parody. Apparently Troll 2 is “spreading like an infectious disease”.

Aye, so is fucking syphilis.

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About Jarv

Workshy cynic, given to posting reams of nonsense on the internet and watching films that have inexplicably got a piss poor reputation.

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