With a title like Microwave Massacre and deadpan stand-up comic Jackie Vernon in the lead, there's little doubt that this cheap cannibal saga is meant as a comedy, though some might debate how well it delivers on that promise. The humor is obvious and juvenile, obsessed with sex and other bodily functions, and what little laugh value these obnoxious gags might hold for the puerile-minded is destroyed with soggy timing and a laggard pace. Vernon (who once provided the voice of Frosty for the holiday perennial Frosty The Snowman) is as unfunny here as his unknown costars, often worse. His sluggish demeanor suggests not merely embarrassment, but utter confusion, as if he's waking up from a bad dream and trying to figure out where his career is. Lots of rubber body parts are tossed about the set for sick giggles, and there's a topless woman every ten minutes or so, all in a desperate attempt to go "over the top." Despite utterly failing as comedy, horror and pornography, Microwave Massacre is grotesque enough in design and attitude to be fascinating, much like a car accident. Director Wayne Berwick obviously had low budget mischief-making of this sort in his blood; he is the son of veteran exploitation director Irvin Berwick, who helmed the distinctive creature feature The Monster of Piedras Blancas.