LDM Scandalous Adventures: Cannibal The Musical (Live)

Hey. My name is Tiffany Scandal and I am a good-for-nothing broad.

I've just come home from an event drenched and sticky from being showered with "bodily" fluids. No, this wasn't a seedy encounter for casual sex or a GWAR concert (RIP Dave Brockie). This was Cannibal The Musical, live in Portland. 

Having seen the Troma Entertainment film dozens of times, I was pretty stoked to see a live performance scheduled here in Portland. I was even more stoked to see that a "Gore Zone" was offered as a ticket option.

For those of you unfamiliar with the story, Cannibal The Musical was written, directed, and produced by Trey Parker (South Park) and released through Troma. As the title suggests, it is a musical . . . loosely based on the first man ever convicted of cannibalism in America: Alferd Packer. It's funny, gory, and has some great toe-tapping jingles. A must-watch for everyone, really.

I made my way the front row of the "Gore Section." Looking around, I see that everyone had the same idea: wear fucking white. I knew that if this live performance offered up as much gore as the movie did, I wanted to leave looking like a walking crime scene. 

The lights dimmed. The crowd cheered. A dimly lit, poorly executed fight scene ensues on stage and I felt a few drops of unknown liquid splash against my arm as someone was beaten to death with a dismembered arm. A huge, shit-eating grin spread on my face. This was going to be AWESOME.

The musical was pretty true to the movie, but raunchier and way more swearing. Sex jokes and f-bombs freely thrown around on stage. At one point, after the crew had crossed a river, they talked about how they needed to get out of their wet clothes. So they all mooned the audience. Then Packer goes into "On Top Of You" with his pants around his ankles. AND it was followed by one of my favorite lines; when Humphrey offers fudge as a condolence after the "sad" song, "fudge, Packer?"

So let's get to the gore. Apart from the single splash I felt in the first minute of the show, the gore was pretty slow to get to. But when it came, it was pretty fucking rad.

"You looking' at my eye?!"

"You looking' at my eye?!"

When this guy stepped on stage, I knew it would be good. The lines were delivered and thickish white fluid pumped out of his eye onstage. He turned to the audience and sprayed. I looked down on my lap where I could feel the liquid soak into my pants, and it looked like someone jizzed all over my crotch. Later, when things were getting desperate for the crew, they stepped out into the audience and showered us with rose-colored water from gardening sprayers. I saw it coming. I didn't fight it. I let the liquid spurt out all over my face and chest. In my head, this is what I imagined being a bukake porn actress felt like. 

Shitty photo brought to you by my macbook. The brownish spots on my skin is dried "blood" from the show.

Shitty photo brought to you by my macbook. The brownish spots on my skin is dried "blood" from the show.

Shitty photo brought to you by my macbook. The brownish spots on my skin is dried "blood" from the show.

Shitty photo brought to you by my macbook. The brownish spots on my skin is dried "blood" from the show.

Overall, I really enjoyed the show. It was hilarious, wonderfully cast, and incredibly resourceful. It was amazing how the space was utilized. My only complaint, I wanted more gore. Sure, food coloring and water are cool in a pinch, but judging by how excited people are to wear white clothing to the gore section, just assume that we want buckets of thick gunk tossed at us. Fake blood doesn't cost much to make, and Last Chance Productions, if you read this, with whoever reads this as a witness, I will happily pay for the materials . . . as long as it promises that the next time I find myself sitting in the gore section, that I get proper splattered. Like this:

oh, sissy. I <3 you.

oh, sissy. I <3 you.

Alright, folks. I need a shower. Until next time.

Keep it creepy.

-Scandal


Tiffany Scandal is a writer, Suicide Girl, photographer, intern at Living Dead Magazine, and coffee fiend. Her first book THERE'S NO HAPPY ENDING is out now through Eraserhead Press. 

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