You think of the films that came to constitute the revered “midnight movie” canon—Eraserhead, El Topo, early John Waters, Pink Flamingos—while perhaps the most credible recent example, at least in terms of pushing the limits of watchability, is Harmony Korine’s Trash Humpers, of which Hosking’s film vaguely resembles a de luxe remake.
Not since the Pink Flamingos days of John Waters and his gutter-trash aesthetic has there been a more divisive carnival of filth, sick humour and depravity than director Jim Hosking's bad taste slasherama.