While I didn’t see Bunnyman in this fashion, it’s possible to watch nearly all of it on fast-forward and still grasp its goings-on. That’s how little happens in its 90 minutes, and how routine and simplistic what does happen is.
The villainous gimmick of this urban legend-inspired cheapie: The killer is a chainsaw-wielding man in a head-to-toe Easter Bunny outfit. That holds potential as a terrific setup … if Bunnyman were a slasher parody. Alas, it is not.
The target of the silly rabbit (Shattered Lives’ Carl Lindbergh, who also wrote, directed, produced and edited the movie — blame him!) actually numbers several: a Toyota chock-full of dimwitted millennials on a getaway. Hiding in a dump truck, Duel-style, Bunnyman first terrorizes them on the road (his truck roars like a lion) as he terrorizes you, the viewer (enough with the friggin’ horn!). Their strategy to shake him is to pull onto the shoulder and sit and wait, and that move is just as cinematically pulse-pounding as you’d expect. Did Lindbergh shoot that scene in real-time or did it just feel like it?
A bit later, Bunnyman runs one of the poor saps over, killing him. The survivors’ sorrow is awfully short-lived, as they’re soon playfully shoving one another and laughing. Finally, Bunnyman fires up his ’saw and hops down to business. You absolutely won’t care a lick either way. None of the youngsters is afforded any kind of definable personality, much less an introduction; one assumes we’re supposed to root for the Britney Spears lookalike (Cheryl Texiera, Wiener Dog Nationals) simply because she wears cutoff shorts. It’s not enough. Nothing is.
For what it’s worth — again, nothing — Bunnyman has two sequels to date: The Bunnyman Massacre and the soon-to-come Bunnyman III. I refuse to believe any demand existed beyond Lindbergh’s purview. —Rod Lott