Alright, settle in, grab your microwave popcorn (burnt bits optional), and dim the lights. Tonight on VHS Heaven, we're digging deep into the bargain bin of brilliance, pulling out a tape that still radiates a certain… questionable charm. I remember stumbling across this one after Trey Parker and Matt Stone blew up with South Park, drawn in by the sheer audacity of that title splashed across the cover: Cannibal! The Musical (1996). A musical? About cannibals? Made by those guys? The worn Troma Entertainment logo on the spine sealed the deal. This wasn't just a movie; it was an anthropological artifact from the pre-Comedy Central era, a testament to what happens when film students with a twisted sense of humor get their hands on a camera and, apparently, a lot of cheap sausage casings.
### From Boulder with Bloodlust
Let's get the setup straight: this isn't some polished Hollywood production. Cannibal! The Musical, originally titled Alferd Packer: The Musical, was born as a student film project while Parker and Stone were at the University of Colorado Boulder in 1993. Shot on weekends and holidays with a budget that probably wouldn't cover the catering bill on a modern blockbuster (figures vary, but think low six figures at best), it’s a miracle this thing even exists, let alone found its way onto VHS shelves via the legendary purveyors of schlock, Troma Entertainment. Knowing its origins is key; it reframes the rough edges not as flaws, but as badges of honor. This is garage band filmmaking at its most endearingly ambitious.
The story loosely follows the real-life tale of Alferd Packer, the only American ever convicted of cannibalism, who led a fateful expedition through the Colorado mountains in 1874. But where history gives us grim survival, Parker gives us… show tunes? Packer (played by Trey Parker himself, under the pseudonym Juan Schwartz for acting, though he also directs, writes, and co-composes) is portrayed here as a somewhat hapless, lovesick fellow whose main concern is his beloved horse, Liane. His companions are a motley crew of prospectors, each more cartoonishly sketched than the last, including a perpetually optimistic Matt Stone as James Humphrey and the scene-stealing Dian Bachar as the utterly bizarre George Noon.
### Shpadoinkle Day!
You can't talk about Cannibal! without talking about the music. Oh, the music! It's a jarring, hilarious, and frankly brilliant contrast to the grim subject matter. Parker’s knack for catchy, slightly off-kilter tunes is already blindingly obvious here. From the insanely optimistic opening number "Shpadoinkle" (a song about how great the weather is… while stranded and starving) to the heartfelt absurdity of "When I Was On Top of You" (sung to the horse), the songs are relentlessly hummable. They’re performed with the kind of earnest, slightly amateur enthusiasm that perfectly matches the film's overall aesthetic. It’s like a community theatre production decided to tackle the Donner Party, and the result is far more entertaining than it has any right to be.
The low budget manifests in wonderfully creative ways. The cinematography has that distinct, slightly grainy 16mm look familiar to anyone who haunted the indie sections of the video store. Sets are basic, costumes look cobbled together, and the whole thing feels delightfully handmade. It’s a world away from the digital gloss we expect now, possessing a texture and immediacy that’s part of its charm.
### Guts, Giggles, and Guitars
Now, about that "Cannibal" part. For a film with such a gruesome theme, the gore is surprisingly… well, fun. It’s presented with the same over-the-top, theatrical silliness as everything else. Think bright red paint-blood, obvious dummies taking falls, and those infamous intestines made from sausage casings. This isn’t aiming for gritty realism; it's aiming for laughs derived from the idea of gore within this ridiculous musical context. Remember how those practical effects, even the cheap ones, felt somehow more tangible back then? There's a certain tactile quality to the fake blood and rubber limbs here that CGI viscera just can't replicate. It’s gory, yes, but in a way that feels more like a Monty Python sketch than a genuine horror film. Troma's Lloyd Kaufman even pops up in a blink-and-you'll-miss-it cameo during the trial scene – a fitting nod given their role in getting this oddity seen.
The performances are exactly what you'd expect from a group of friends making a movie. Parker anchors it with a strangely likable turn as the accused man-eater, while Stone brings his familiar deadpan energy. But it's often Dian Bachar as Noon who walks away with the movie, delivering lines with a bewildering cadence and sporting facial expressions that belong in a different dimension. Their chemistry, the foundation of their later South Park empire, is already palpable.
### Before South Park, There Was Packer
Watching Cannibal! The Musical today is a fascinating experience. It’s rough, uneven, and technically miles away from Parker and Stone’s later work. Yet, the seeds of their comedic genius are undeniably present: the scatological humor, the unexpected musical numbers, the skewering of authority, the surprisingly sharp satire lurking beneath the silliness. It wasn't a box office smash, barely registering upon its Troma release in '96, but like so many VHS treasures, it found its audience slowly, becoming a cult classic, especially after South Park hit big. Fans traced back the origins and found this bizarre, hilarious gem waiting. I definitely remember grabbing the Troma tape because it was the South Park guys' first movie, eager to see where it all began.
It’s a film made with infectious energy and a clear love for the absurd. Does every joke land? No. Is the pacing occasionally wonky? Absolutely. But does it possess a unique charm and historical significance for fans of its creators or cult cinema? You bet your shpadoinkle boots it does.
VHS Heaven Rating: 7/10
Justification: While undeniably rough around the edges due to its student film origins and micro-budget, Cannibal! The Musical scores high on sheer audacity, infectious energy, surprisingly catchy songs, and its importance as the launching pad for Trey Parker and Matt Stone. The humor is hit-or-miss, but the hits are memorable, and its DIY practical effects and overall handmade feel are pure VHS-era charm. It's a cult classic for a reason, offering genuine laughs and a fascinating glimpse into comedic genius finding its voice.
Final Thought: Forget pristine digital restorations; Cannibal! The Musical feels most authentic viewed through a layer of VHS fuzz, a gloriously amateurish, blood-splattered sing-along that proves sometimes, all you need is a camera, some friends, and a truly terrible historical event to make movie magic. Have a shpadoinkle day!