[SXSW 2022 Review] 'Bitch Ass' is a Poorly Paced Though Fun Game of Murder with Franchise Potential

Over the decades, the horror genre has unleashed a bevy of slashers featuring masked killers, with one common theme: They’re always white dudes…

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​…Director Bill Posley’s Bitch Ass, which just premiered at SXSW, looks to finally change that by introducing horror’s first black, masked slasher villain with a premise that screams franchise potential.
 
Written by Posley and Jonathan Colomb, Bitch Ass is set in 1999 and follows Q (Teon Kelley), looking to join the Sixth Street gang run by Spade (Sheaun McKinney). As part of their initiation, Q and a few others must break into a recently deceased woman’s house to steal a supposed boatload of cash. Simple enough, except what they don’t expect is the woman’s mysterious grandson, Bitch Ass (Tunde Laleye), as the kids call him, a killer who forces his victims to play deadly versions of board games.
 
Now that’s a fun idea!
 
A retro slasher that plays out like Saw meets The People Under the Stairs, Bitch Ass is all about honoring the classics that have come before it, so it’s no wonder that the filmmakers managed to get Tony Todd, perhaps best known as horror’s only iconic, black slasher villain, Candyman, to open the film. We meet Todd (playing Titus Blaq), an eccentric Crypt Keeper-type surrounded by black horror VHS titles, introducing to us “the tale of the first black serial killer to ever don a mask”. The sounds of a storm raging outside and Todd cackling maniacally as he inserts a VHS tape of Bitch Ass, Posley does an exquisite job of setting the mood for a bloody throwback.
 
Listen, when a film starts with Tony Todd chewing the scenery and devilishy laughing like he’s about to show you the best damn thing you’ve ever seen, you better believe you’re in for a good time. Bitch Ass doesn’t disappoint, at least when it comes to entertainment value.
 
Posley infuses a chaotic energy into Bitch Ass that screams to be heard over the abundance of slashers out there in the horrorverse. Split-screens that rotate like rubiks cubes and colorful, cartoony playing cards featuring the cast used to mark when one of them has been killed off are just some of the clever editing heightening the game theme of the film. It can feel like a sensory overload at times, but the visual style sets Bitch Ass on a bar above your average run of the mill slasher.
 
The name of the game with Bitch Ass is fun, which comes out through an enjoyable cast. Venturing into the old manor along with Q is his tough friend, Tuck (Kelsey Caesar), dumbass Moo (A-F-R-O) and wisecracking Cricket (Belle Guillory). I’m not going to lie and say there’s a whole lot of depth to the other three, but the chemistry between them all comes off as genuine and makes for some good laughs as they knock on each other, with Guillory as a standout. They’re all good pawns for Bitch Ass and his games.

​Bitch Ass doesn’t appear to have a whole lot to work with, which just makes production designer Jeremy Jonathan White’s playful design all that more impressive. All through the manor—with edited in labels for rooms reminiscent of Clue like “Basement” and “The Museum Room”—are nifty references to classic game boards that accentuate the theme, such as a basement full of game pieces hanging by strings. The games themselves, including a sharp twist on Connect Four, all have that rusty, definitely going to catch Tetanus if I touch it sort of design, not hiding the Saw inspirations whatsoever. A character who once aspired to be a game creator before years of bullying drove him to madness, I’m not sure Bitch Ass would’ve had much of a career since his games are all blatant rip-offs, but part of the enjoyment of the film is our familiarity with the games and guessing what twisted version of a childhood classic will come next.
 
The filmmakers add in all of the usual tropes like a horrific back story of torment suffered by Bitch Ass (his younger version played with a gut-wrenching performance by Jarvis Denman Jr.) and an abusive, ultra-religious grandmother (Sherri L. Walker) who nails the creep factor, what with her “commandments” of strict rules, but Bitch Ass is missing quite a few pieces from the box.
 
The kills—bloody and cheer-worthy as some of them are—happen quicker than a game of Sorry becomes ruthless. The timeline is like a game of Shoots and Ladders, all over the place and killing suspense just as it begins to build. Bitch Ass hops back and forth between the present, the 1980s, and a side-story with Q’s mother, Marsia (Me’lisa Sellers) that effectively builds sympathy for Bitch Ass, but frequently takes viewers out of the moment. Laleye carries an intimidating presence as Bitch Ass, but isn’t given much of an opportunity to flex those muscles, since there’s almost no stalking and slashing to be had, and it’s kind of difficult to instill fear when your characters are having an epic battle to the death with a game of…Rock, Paper, Scissors.
 
You can’t take Bitch Ass too seriously. This film is more Leprechaun than Saw, a silly game of murder that produces more laughs than it does actual scares. It’s cornier than Corn Hole, but “there’s a game for everyone,” as Bitch Ass likes to say, so if you like your horror with a side of cheese, you’re going to eat with this film.
 
Bitch Ass is far from perfect, especially on a technical level, as it’s probably a little too ambitious for its own good, but none of its flaws take away from the unique premise and potential for a solid franchise down the road. Bitch Ass has all of the makings of becoming an iconic horror villain, so here’s to hoping he gets to play again soon.

By Matt Konopka