And this fuckin' guy:

Blood Brothers FX
He might have made an episode or two, in the background somewhere.

In a neat twist -- the film aims to actually be a gritty take in a way that isn't simply lowering the saturation while keeping every other aspect PG-13 ... but rather opting to get the characters' hands dirty with the residue of destruction and debauchery.

Blood Brothers FX

Blood Brothers FX
Michelangelo will never be this much of a party dude.

Yup, it's like if GWAR tried to make a children's film.

Speaking of people way more badass than you, Cartel Land is about a physician nicknamed "El Doctor" leading a vigilante uprising against a violent Mexican drug cartel called the Knights Templar. Also, this is a documentary, and not a Robert Rodriguez film where Antonio Banderas fires two uzis in a church while maintaining a Jesus Christ pose.

The Orchard
"We wanted to use guitar cases like he did, but have you seen how much space
those fucking things take up?"

The film also follows an American veteran running a group called the Arizona Border Recon, attempting to halt any violence that may seep across the border while struggling with their Fox Newsified persona.

The Orchard
His deepest, darkest secret: His Daily Show DVR season pass.

Morally speaking, the film sounds mind-bogglingly at war with itself, as Mexican citizens and mercenaries are forced to take less-than-compassionate measures against the people fucking up their country with drug trade. All shot by a filmmaker whose most notable previous work was an investigative piece on healthcare that I'm guessing involved very few gunfights. Possibly zero gunfights, even. This is probably why Cartel Land's production took an admittedly surprising route when the director found himself tasked with keeping the camera rolling through multiple confrontations, meth labs, and blazing hellfire shootouts.

The Orchard
The one time shaky cam would've been acceptable, and they spared us from it anyway.

And from the looks of the trailer -- we're not even talking about a single crazy shootout, but multiple goddamn gun battles, ranging from ambushes to raids, that these hapless film school graduates documented in the grips of the stewing fear-sundaes no doubt brewing in their pants. With any luck, they'll make a follow-up film that's just two hours of them crying under a wool blanket.

In the span of 30 years, director Kevin Smith has gone from America's grunge stoner to America's walrus-horror auteur. It's been a strange trip, and I can't say his work is for everyone, but who knows? You might find the following picture intriguing:

Kevin Smith
"I can't attack the Polish. They're my people!"

Unmistakably, that there is Kevin Smith himself playing a giant bratwurst Hitler man (not to be confused with a late-career Tom Selleck). As was briefly touched upon in a previous installment, Smith has been working on what he's calling his True North Trilogy, which began with Tusk and ends with the self-explanatory Moose Jaws, making Yoga Hosers the Empire Strikes Back of grotesque puck-chaser tribute films. Along with Smith, the movie bafflingly stars his own daughter, a sleazed-up Haley Joel Osment, and Johnny Depp apparently playing an off-brand Che Guevara impersonator.

Deano/Splash News, Cousart/JFX Images/Wenn
If your actor sexual fantasies involve getting mugged over $20 and paying too much
for a '93 Hyundai, this is the film for you.

Finally, Depp's daughter also stars beside Smith's, no doubt as the central motivator for why the millionaire actor was willing to dress like a Smurf villain in a raunchy comedy. At this point, the plot seems almost inconsequential, but in case you're wondering: The film's conflict comes when an ancient evil from the planet's crust threatens the hangings-out of our two young heroes, who join forces with Depp's character (a French-Canadian manhunter named Guy Lapointe) to grapple their way to victory ... presumably in a sequence where they grill a giant racist sausage. That's as much sense as this film is offering, so it's probably best to just go with it.

But, of course, being such a rich and expansive universe that everyone is familiar with, it's just not enough that we're getting one Krampus movie. So luckily, there's Slay Belles, a sexy take on the Krampus story starring three Harley Quinn-type urban explorers battling on the side of Saint Nick -- who is described in the synopsis as a "crotchety biker wannabe with fading magic powers."

Bad Juju Productions
This is not the same Santa who once kicked the shit out of Satan.

Then there's Happy Krampus, a Jim Henson Company-produced children's film. And Anti-Claus, a film about the holiday imp starring none other than the above-mentioned Haley Joel Osment and directed by Kevin fucking Smith, thereby deeming 2016 the year of quizzically watching The Sixth Sense kid make hockey references and blowjob jokes.

(And if you're concerned that this glut of films will devalue alpine yuletide hobgoblins, know that the best Krampus movie ever made was already put on YouTube seven years ago. It didn't even need a plot!)

Though, if the Rolling Stones ever see this, the director may need a lawyer.

On top of the brutal confrontation with evil, the film adds an extra level of "holy shit" by having our optometrist protagonist use each encounter to also perform eye tests on the men who ordered the frightful death of his people. Because even the most callous blood-spilling monster deserves better fit for greater comfort in about an hour.

Final Cut For Real
If they can ever look themselves in the mirror again, at least they won't be blurry.