A feature length 90's Treehouse of Terror treatment of the 80s. Immensely stupid and sincere, it is camp in the most delightful way.
The Creature as the sullen, wordless assistant, creaking and croaking, but most importantly, posing in the most Victorian way, is a delightful monster/deuteragonist. His adobe flash animated back story that forms the opening credits let us know the sort of melodrama that we are in for, and his gradual journey back to romantic manhood is delightfully separated from common mores.
Lisa is high camp in all her motions and speech, a whirling spider of limbs, whispers and screeches to the world as she frantically grasps at her seemingly cardboard family and school. Her outlandishness is constantly perceived as her trauma, and the world hates her for it, the surviving victim as the constant proof of violence in the world. And she is both living with trauma remembering that which the world tries to forget, and just a goth, interested in cool music, movies and books. What is missing, for me, is her own perception of violence. Part of the movie's camp is how quickly she is scheming with the creature.
This is a movie about as anti Zebra as possible. Two freaks harvesting and hunting the world at large to create their authentic selves? Diablo Cody - more like Diablo Go-find-me-a-limb-y.