Spare Parts


“Spare Parts” (now available on VOD, DVD and Blu-ray) isn’t a good movie, but it’s sure as shit a fun one.

Ms. 45 (a cool nod to Abel Ferrara’s 1981 sleazefest) is an all-female punk band currently on tour. The group is comprised of sisters Amy (Michelle Argyris) and Emma (Emily Alatalo) and lovers Cassy (Kiriana Stanton) and Jill (Chelsea Muirhead). On one fateful night during a gig at a biker bar the gals of Ms. 45 get into an all-out brawl with a handsy patron (Kevan Kase) when he crashes the stage. On hand to witness the band’s brutality is Sam (Jason Rouse, bringing BIG Nick Cassavetes in “Face/Off” energy to the proceedings).

Sam takes a particular shine to Emma – so much so that he tails Ms. 45’s tour van in his muscle car, runs them off the road and kidnaps them with the assistance of the Sheriff (Lewis Hodgson) and tow truck driver Daniel (Bruce McFee). The men take the women to a scrap yard belonging to Sam’s Dad, The Emperor (Julian Richings). Upon their arrival each of the women has one of their hands amputated and replaced with a latch to which they can attach weapons such as axes and chainsaws.

Ms. 45 is soon under the tutelage of Driller (Ryan Allen), a former gladiator who will train them in the art of junkyard combat. The women have no choice other than to fight should they want to survive let alone gain their freedom.

“Spare Parts” is a scummy, low-budget affair. Each of the picture’s primary creatives wears multiple hats – Andrew Thomas Hunt (a founding partner of Canadian genre label Raven Banner Entertainment, who also had a hand in this year’s inspired “Psycho Goreman”) directs, executive produces and edits, co-writer Svet Rouskov (alongside David Murdoch) also executive produced and Pasha Patriki served as cinematographer and producer.

The tight-knit nature of this filmmaking collective resulted in a consistent vision. It isn’t polished, but it’s entertaining. The acting isn’t especially good (it needn’t be). The script is tasteless (an abortion is depicted as a throwaway gag) and nonsensical (that seems on brand). Pivotally, the one Ms. 45 song we’re treated to is catchy as all get-out and the gore is plentiful and capably realized … at the end of the day and with this sorta flick that’s what really matters. You likely already know if you’re the audience for “Spare Parts” or not.

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