Saying Hell Yes To DEAR GOD NO

Starting with the concept of a bad ass group of bikers out on a state wide killing spree, and then tossing in a mad scientist side plot and even some Bigfoot action for good measure, James Bickert’s Dear God No plays out like a lost film from the heyday of Bikersploitation films from the seventies.

Led by Jett (Jett Bryant), the Impalers are your surlier-than-normal motorcycle gang that lives by the credo “No Witnesses”.  Fresh off a night of debauchery involving the rape, torture and murder of a busload of nuns and clergymen, the Impalers find themselves at odds with the territories leading bike gang, Satan’s Own. It seems Jett and the crew is drawing heat from the feds for the indiscreet and indiscriminate way they leave corpses stacked like cordwood along the southern highways. After being told in no uncertain terms to rein their shit in by the territory leader and strip club owner (Billy Ratliffe), the crew take his warning under advisement by kicking off a bloodbath. After cutting down the bulk of the staff and patrons, Jett and the boys clear out under heavy gunfire from Tommygun toting stripers clad only in panties and Tricky Dick Nixon masks!

Meanwhile Dr. Marco and his daughter Edna (Paul McComiskey and Madeline Brumby) find themselves on the verge of a revolutionary discovery. BIG-fucking-FOOT roams the woods outside their secluded cabin home. Joined by a young couple expecting their first child, the Doctor finds his research interrupted when the Impalers crash their home needing a place to lay low.

If you need to have a coherent plot and decent acting in order to enjoy a movie, pass on Dear God No. For those that can appreciate the sleazy drive-in vibe and seedy 70’s cinema shtick that Bickert and company are going for, you’ll love this movie. Most modern day “grind house” movies are nothing more than cleaned up and sanitized Troma movies with big budgets and A list casts. They do little more than wink at the concept, letting the audience in on the joke. It takes a completely different mindset to enjoy the low budget thrills presented by Dear God No and others of its ilk.

Bickert approaches the material from a place of love of the genre rather than kitsch or laziness. We receive far too many low budget features that chalk up all their limitations to “hey it’s low budget, what do you expect?” Go so far as to shoot on Super 16MM Fuji film commonly used in the exploitation film salad days, Dear God No spins limitations into positives, infusing the film with manic energy, over the top violence and an adherence to practical gore that delivers some nasty, cringe inducing visuals.  

Dear God, No has a nasty streak that runs wider than the blacktop lanes of Georgia highway. The Impalers aren’t misunderstood rascals with hearts of gold. There’s no “moment to grow on”, no lessons learned and no hugging out of differences at the end. The Impalers are scum fucks, through and through. Nothing’s off the table in Dear God, No. Not tossing back dirty tampon shots. Not shooting kids in the back. Not the rape and late third trimester “abortion” on a pregnant woman. Not forced mother on daughter incest. Not disemboweling a group of nuns and stringing them up by their intestines. It's the kind of movie that would cause Roger Ebert to break his fingers in his haste to pound out a vitriolic review regarding the terrible state of movies nowadays.  

It’s the unapologetic meanness of Dear God No coupled with the anything goes storylines that make the film so much goddamn fun to watch. Leaving the wretch inducing attempts at humanizing your band of cretins to a slick Hollywood film and give me bearded weirdoes bemoaning a lack of a body count by the time the day’s sun sets. Too many independent features dip their toe in the deep waters of grotesqueness only to yank back towards middle ground for fear of offending an audience or potential distributor. Bickert and crew have no such worries, choosing to cannonball into the deep end of a piss and beer filled pool, allowing the audience to decide if they want to get caught up in the waves.