Grim, amateurish little torture porn bauble set in a Vilnius tattoo parlor, only slightly elevated by a menacing performance from Robert LaSardo as "The Artist." He's the only thing worth watching here, despite the lovely location, which this film wastes. The other performances are so appalling and the dialogue so unimaginative that it's hard to tell how much of it was improvised -- on one hand, I can't imagine anyone writing this garbage out and thinking, "Yeah, that sounds right;" on the other, all the characters (The Artist excepted) sound exactly alike, even with multiple accents, each as aggressively unlikable and inarticulate as the next. A film called "Anarchy Parlor" might reasonably be expected to deliver some inkling of wild imagination, some hint that the filmmakers understand transgression. This predictable, mundane mess fails to deliver.
