Wednesday Weirdness 114 during Hooptober XII review {9/45}

| In short:
This tale of Martian volcano dreams and (occasionally cyclopean) potato obsession may not be a AAA production—but let he who has never squirted bodily fluids in a doctor’s face be the first to cast a stone!

It’s got grey matter theft, a discount Colonel Sanders moonlighting as genocidal private eye/scientist, a tender bed-soiling sequence, claymation-and-paper-mâché evolution vignettes, and hooker heroics—what more could you ask for?

| This movie teaches us:
The sound of a bath-farting brain.
That sentient sludge is probably plotting something.

| In slightly less short:
The story unfolds in a Henenlotter-level scuzzy hotel, where a lone wanderess takes up residence in the basement of ill repute. Like any traditional gal, she values her privacy—especially since her spore-emitting surplus face-tit has a habit of liquefying bystanders and reshaping their remains into something… drippy. That ought to teach people to knock first.

Her skull, meanwhile, is currently being squatted by an extraterrestrial stop-motion starfish. So she keeps her dream-regulating gizmo and a nightstand-jarred brain close at hand.

Her ablutionary sanctum is a shrine to hydration—lined with vagina-gourds stuffed with compacted cerebral matter, all lovingly “moisturized” for freshness.

| Verdict:
Like a crockpot of atomic-age brain-parasite paranoia grappling with Lynchian strangeness, Cronenbergian body horror, and origin-unknown dark humor—all stewed together on a sub-Troma budget—this is an acquired taste. And I can’t get enough of it.

Disembodied is an adorably goofy, visceral, and gooey unsung indie gem—where every person involved was clearly spinning multiple plates, duct-taping the weird together, and conjuring movie magic with sheer willpower.

Some of the production design reminded me of Hotel Poseidon with its bleak dreaminess, while the more violent, birth-adjacent outbursts triggered sweaty Possession and Baby Blood flashbacks.

If you’re drawn to off-kilter, low-budget body horror cult gems like Love God, Killer Tongue, or Brain Damage—and you thrive on the strange, the sticky, and the steadfastly unhinged—then Disembodied deserves a prime spot in your cinematic sewer.

| Listed: Favorite first seen 2025, Overlooked Gems, and Bathtub Flatulence Features.