Bulgarian-Kazakh production “Bullets of Justice” sashays its way to the silver screen with guns a-blazing. Cast as one of four films for the Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival's (BIFAN) “Forbidden Zone” — a segment dedicated to BIFAN's most extreme genre films — “Bullets of Justice” crosses every “forbidden” threshold imaginable. Set with a post-apocalyptic landscape where pig-based superhumans and normies are war with each other, “Bullets of Justice” compiles time travel, Cold War tensions, and crude sexual humor into one hell of a movie.
The story starts with “Army Bacon” — the Nazi “Ubermensch” dream realized, only in the form of hog hybrids (nicknamed “Muzzles”) with a taste for human flesh. As Army Bacon enslaves and fattens their human creators in America, the rogue human-humans have built a resistance front in post-Soviet lands. Within the resistance, one angst-driven hero stands out amongst the rest: Rob (Timur Turisbekov). Muscular, angsty, and of course flanked by a never-ending supply of supermodel “assistants,” Rob joins forces with his mustache'd sister Raksha (Doroteya Toleva) to avenge their father's (Danny Trejo) death. His journey from nondescript post-Soviet ruins to the fantastic Manhattan skyscrapers is not peaceful, however. Riddled with betrayal, homoerotic nightmares, and even a sympathetic Ronaldo figure, Rob must overcome his own past in order to preserve humanity's present.
Taken out of context, there are many objectionable moments to “Bullets of Justice.” Director Valeri Milev indulges in cheeky sex scenes in light of Rob's hyper-masculine aura, but the erotic humor all fades into the noise of the film's sheer absurdity. Raksha captures this entirely: for despite her unquestionably warrior-like character, her blatant facial hair throws a wrench into each attempt to objectify her. The bullets wrapped around her chest do not actually service their cause; they're just for “decoration.” And of course, the consistent blow-dry of Mr. Universe's Dior-esque curls is a laugh-out-loud take on the superficiality of movie beauty. Hollywood standards, in both production and moral stata, do not apply in this flippant survivalist schema.Â
Turisbekov shines in some legitimately brilliant moments, too. In one of his stunts early on, Rob shoots down his mortal enemies fully-naked, full-frontal to the camera, and definitely mid-coitus. He places a portrait of his now-dead lover in a makeshift shrine on his car dashboard, one littered with an icon of the Madonna and photographs of other presumably dead assistants. And then the close-up — that's what really kills it. “Don't cry for pussy,” he repeats to himself in a thick Russian accent as he drives off into the horizon. Truly a versatile member of the cast and crew (Turisbekov served as the co-writer, producer, and composer — in addition to the main lead!), Turisbekov's Rob is a walking, talking definition of bisexual (and Asian?) machismo. With the grace of Keanu Reeves and the sharp jawline of Godfrey Gao, the Kazakh first-timer floors in his satirical self-awareness, setting him apart from the current slate of post-apocalyptic heroes.
All in all, “Bullets of Justice” throws all political correctness out of the window to give the audience some breathing room for laughter. This year's edition of BIFAN saw a muted reactions in a theater filled to 35 percent capacity, but no matter — chuckles resounded in the theatre all around. The balance between the campy CGI explosions and the complete suspension of belief is so finely tuned to the see-saw of satire that it's hard not to enjoy this parody of the usual gloss of sci-fi cinema. Each irreverent additional plot twist — for there are many — only adds to the film's charm. Milev clearly aims for a B-movie angle and hits with bullseye perfection.
