Outrageously straightforward and 100% campy, this bears a look and feel hovering somewhere between 1936 propaganda film/exploitation flick 'Reefer madness,' the notorious no-budget marvel 'Manos: The hands of fate' that would follow two years later, literal home movies, and informational films that various organizations may have churned out in the 60s to educate someone or other about, I don't know, new kitchenware. It appears to have itself been produced on a budget approximating a week's earnings from the neighborhood kids' lemonade stand, with "sets" (filming locations) and "costumes" (wardrobe pieces cobbled together) that presumably were provided by the cast, crew, or filmmakers themselves, or possibly nicked from the bargain bin at the local thrift store. The equipment used to film this, and record the audio, seem to have been ordinary consumer-grade electronics purchased from the nearest Sears Roebucks. And while there is the most vague, ineffectual, meaningless "story" loosely tying these bits together, there's no real wraparound segment, and the script mostly comes off as as a cheeky, somewhat puerile, adult-oriented run of gags that was devised for a group of friends to put on for other friends in their backyard. Are these words selling anyone on 'Lullaby of Bareland,' or telling them off?
Severely hampered already by poor audio (some dialogue that is meant to be heard is pretty much inaudible) and image quality, the assemblage is lent no aid by curious choices of direction, camerawork, and sequencing that firstly prove the amateur level of those behind the scenes, and secondly serve to distract from what the movie is trying to do rather than add to it. I don't think the "sets" or "costumes" are bad, mind you, only definitively reflective of meager resources; to the extent that one can hear some of the jokes being told, some of them are a little amusing; those who dance at one point or another know what they're doing and demonstrate skill. I'll even go so far as to say that I admire the hair and makeup work. On the other hand, if anyone involved could be described as a professional actor, you could have fooled me. To the extent that one could claim there was genuine writing involved, it's both overblown and simply dull. And broadly speaking, this is so flimsily made that it's a wonder the physical length of film on which it was captured didn't fall apart in the process.
Of course, all such critiques are quite superfluous, aren't they? Everything about this feature was truly, sincerely, nothing more than an excuse for female nudity. That's all. I'm no prude; I appreciate the female form as much as anyone. But if that is actually and absolutely the only purpose of a movie - no meaningful story, no sex, no significant comedy, no no particular entertainment at all - then why bother? In what capacity could this be enjoyable, especially for how unremittingly, wholly weak it is in its construction in all regards? I can only surmise that this made for exclusively for sad, lonely, unlikable white cishet men, exclusively by sad, lonely, unlikable white cishet men. Among any other subset of the general population one might cite, what self-respecting person could even pretend to extract any value from this?
Someone thought it was a good idea. Presumably the "cast" had a good time making it. It's too bad there's nothing about this that can pass on those good feelings to the audience. I'm once again amazed that every time I think I've found the top candidate for "worst movie ever made," I eventually stumble onto another. Then again, can 'Lullaby of Bareland' honestly even be called a "movie?"
Just don't bother. Try to forget you ever came across this. Whatever you expect to get out of the experience, try watching anything else first. Avoid.
