God Told Me To – 1976

Submitted by: Ryan Francis


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Hey everyone. My name is Ryan Francis. Nigel approached me about writing a review on the worst movie I have ever seen. Now, I sat on this idea for quite some time. I have seen quite a few movies that made me want to chop off my dick and throw it into Tim Tebow’s face while vomiting on Whoopie Goldberg’s vagina. But to re-watch one of them in order to give Nigel what he wants? No. Wait. Fuck no. I won’t do that.

So I let this request sit in my inbox for a few days without responding. Then the nightmares began. Scenes from Chopping Mall, Pieces, and Castle Freak just flooded back to me. There was nothing funny about the next morning. Morning wood stopped indefinitely, “good days” turned into paranoia, and the frog in my throat was constantly making me want to vomit at work.

I felt that in order to stop this paranormal insanity that was keeping me from achieving success in my daily tasks, I needed to fulfill Nigel’s wishes: review the worst movie I have ever seen. When taking on a task like this and making that decision, Mario does not think to himself, “I will just stomp on this shit Goomba and call it a day”. No. He goes after King Koopa himself so he can go home and fuck the shit outta the Princesses asshole.

So out of every terrible film I have ever seen, I succumbed to watching the worst one ever: God Told Me To (Larry Cohen, 1976). While many people would disagree with me, the “unveiling” had me pissing my pants. So now, I sit here, with this film running through the opening credits. I am wasted. Yes, 4 King Cobras in. This is it. To stop my bad dreams. To put an end to all things terrible in my life. I will now sit and tackle, God Told Me To.

Credits roll while some choir sings in Latin. We are in New York City. Some asshole on a bike flails onto the ground for reasons unknown. Another man gets shot in the head. A business man gets shot in the chest. Random people are taking bullets, and we do not know why. This is horrifying. However, we find out there is some goddamn sonofabitch on a water tower with a sniper rifle just shooting away.

This is where we meet our police officer, Peter Nicholas. Our hero. Climbing this water tower. He’ll get to the bottom of this. The marksman is a 22-year old man who is super friendly. Peter asks the shooter why he killed everyone. The response? God told me to. Yep. Here we go…
Peter banters with his wife and rushes off to a hospital to interview a man who murdered people with a knife. When he gets to questioning this man, he asks the man a simple question… “Why did you do this?”. He responds with, “God told me to” and proceeds to die. Right? Right? Something fishy is going on here, some sort of conspiracy involving God and murder. Not good.

Cut to Irish parade in New York. A giant “Air France” banner is seen in the background. Shit is about to go down. Premeditated murder shit. Yep .Gunfire, dead civilians, dead cops. The whole deal. Now. Why did the cop who murdered everyone do it?! You got it. God told him to.

At this point I needed to take a break from the film to take one final shot of Jameson. Larry Cohen has completely terrified me. How will I sleep? I took some time to look at alternate reviews on this film, and found that most people grossly disagree with my opinion on this film. 3.5/5 on Rotten Tomatoes? No. Did anyone actually finish this movie?! Fuck. I’ll carry on.

Let’s cut to a very dark scene where a woman stabs Peter with a butter knife(?) or a pencil(?). He begs her to “say it”. She just gaggles after falling down a flight of steps oogling out, “Gawwwww…. gawwwwww…. *choke* gaaaawwwwww…”. Dies. We all know what the fuck she wanted to say. Peter! What now?! Sir! God is telling people to kill you now. Why? I don’t understand. Neither does Peter, which is why he is going to solve this murder mystery.

I’m not going to bore you with more banter from Peters interviewees as to why God guided hands to kill people because we are now finally realizing that God may actually be telling people to kill others. This is way bad news for Peter and Dakota Fanning (shit, I’m drunk). MAJOR LOL at naked woman that runs at man in car during a cut scene into the past. I will say that we find out important information of a potential abduction from the sky. Aliens? God? DAMMIT MORK! What? Lots of police work continues, but maybe Peter is onto something with “cold hard facts”.

Conversation happens where there is an idea of God being an ancient astronaut. The Westboro Baptist Church appears. Fist fights break out and Napoleon Bonaparte has oral sex with Jack Hanna (okay, or not). More people die because God keeps telling them to do it. The word “God” even gets written on a wall with blood.

All in all, more banter and more facts have evolve. Peter figures out the location where God is hiding. Whatever. After a slow stair climbing sequence to what seems to be the top floor of this building, Peter enters a room after making sure his revolver was loaded. A bright light is beaming from inside. There stands God. I think? In a white shirt/robe thing, looking much like Raiden from Mortal Kombat. He even speaks like him. Holy shit. They banter about miscarriages. And then God pulls up his shirt to reveal a pulsing vagina on his chest…yes, we see a close-up…and asks Peter to ‘create’ with him. “It’s meant to be” God says. And Peter just starts slapping the shit out of God in the face in a fury.

I was re-reading this, and I felt it necessary to address a point. Yes. A vagina. On his chest. Yes. God asked Peter to fuck the vagina on his chest. I still to this day do not know how or why this was even thought up.
Anyway, after bitchslapping God, things get set on fire and there is an earthquake. Peter is in deep shit because he killed someone. And he ends the movie by saying “God told me to”.

The end.

Some of you who may find religious fiction appealing, maybe you’ll enjoy this one. Myself? No. This film is a huge waste of time and makes me want to eat toenail clippings. I give this film a 1/1,000. Really? A vagina on Gods chest? Really?!

Wow. I’m drunk. Thankskilling was not any better. Goodnight all. And thank you Nigel for ruining my evening. (Editor’s Note: “You’re welcome.”)

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