It’s enough to give an escaped psychopath a bad name: random murderers of the crazed, wild-eyed variety. Steckler doesn't bother with trifles, like creating tension, or for that matter, plot. He dives straight into the mayhem: stylized, but crude, violence, wild chases, anything that interrupts the car radio with a dire news flash. And he seems to be nursing some grudges of his own: Hollywood Industry schmucks are tempting targets! The trademark humor does prevail, a reminder not to take any of this too seriously.
