Out of all the subgenres, something about horror anthologies always feels the most fun. Perhaps it’s because these films are the closest equivalent to scary stories around the fire. Anthologies also allow creators the freedom to flex their creativity without the rigid constraints of a single story or tone. One bit can balance the thin line between horror and comedy, while the next can be genuinely pee-your-pants horrifying. With the right tie-ins and presentation, they harmonize to form an iconic experience.
One of the newest additions to horror anthologies is HeBGB TV. Written and directed by the team of Eric Griffin, Jake McClellan, and Adam Lenhart. PatchTown Films’ first feature is a loving homage to old horror anthologies and a biting satire of cable television. While its sense of humor might not be for everyone, it’s a genuinely creative film with something for all audiences to appreciate.
The overarching story centers around an evil cable box sweeping the nation. Whether through a mysterious package containing a Purple Guy or simply manufactured hype, somehow, this pulsating box makes its way into the homes of a small town. The framing device is mostly for show since the film’s real highlights are the programming options available on a HeBGB TV box. There are plenty of channels to peruse, many infomercials for useful products, and an “On Demond” section for film buffs. The film seamlessly moves between each element and maintains its generally absurdist tone from segment to segment.
What initially struck me was the director’s dedication to using different mediums and the quality of how each was incorporated. The practical effects and makeup — primarily on Knucklehead (McClellan’s stage name), who portrays several roles — are over the top and fantastic. Perhaps the best makeup is on Monster Girl from the directors’ segment “1-800-5-BLUE-YOU.” Everything is so tactile and disgusting to look at but so over-exaggerated that it’s difficult to look away.
A fair amount of puppetry is incorporated throughout various segments, including a recurring gag featuring Squash the Pumpkin, his various deaths, and the Candy Corn-tet. Each adds to the film’s surreal atmosphere. The Corn-tet reminded me of Puppetcore Studios’ short film Shine which is easily one of my favorite shorts. It balances charm and horror on a razor-thin wire perfectly. There’s even a bit of stop motion incorporated here and there. The CGI, which is rarely used, isn’t the best, but it honestly benefits the film by adding to the uncanny nature of the HeBGB TV box’s programming.
The film’s humor is reminiscent of the raunchier, weirder parts of mid-2010s Adult Swim programming or the Flying Lotus film Kuso. While less outwardly transgressive than both examples, it definitely leans into gross-out humor. Most of the comedic flare is wacky, relying on audience knowledge of cable TV tropes, but it’s done quite well.
Knucklehead is stellar at balancing various roles and has incredible comedic delivery. From the enigmatic and wacky Purple Guy, which might not be an FNAF reference, but it sure feels like one, to a sleazy news anchor for P.U. News to the Monster Girl phone sex operator, he really shows a vast range across the film’s seventy-eight-minute runtime.
What makes HeBGB TV a genuinely entertaining experience is its horrific take on cable television. Griffin, McClellan, and Lenhart are incredibly successful in satirizing the nearly-dead entertainment system. The film is easily separated from something like infomercials with its own distinct tone and approach towards satire. Nothing trapped in those cable boxes is safe from mockery.
The same commercial for Gunther’s Cleaning Products loops between segments. There’s a Nickelodeon equivalent that swaps slime for blood, its shopping channel is endlessly selling out of useless goods, and the channels seemingly have nothing to offer and everything to watch. What really hammers home the satire is the anchor of P.U. News emphasizing that viewers keep their mitts off the dial. The slogan permeates the film and is transformed into a banger of a club remix at one point. Even with the advertised “heightened risk for brain rot,” the HeBGB TV box sells out in every store.
PatchTown Films genuinely knows what made cable television so appealing in its heyday and successfully lampoons it with HeBGB TV. The film truly feels like channel surfing through the absolute worst (or best) that cable had to offer back in the early to mid-2000s. Between the filmmakers’ dedication to mixing mediums, absurd humor, and the incredibly pointed jabs at the insanity of what cable television was, it’s a wild and gross ride.
