Killer Sofa stuffs its murderous fabric with foam drier than its rusty springs. Let’s set the record straight. It’s not a sofa. It’s a recliner. “Killer Recliner” adheres to the accuracy of its furniture depiction. Secondly, who would purchase a dilapidated reclining chair that had been originally chained up during the scene of a gruesome murder? Thirdly, considering the minimalistic contemporary furniture within Francesca’s apartment, why the hell would she opt for such a hideous-looking piece of upholstery? Never mind the beaded eyes and grumpy smile resting on the back of the chair, a mildly amusing attempt to anthropomorphise said seating apparatus, it’s probably carrying more diseases than her apparent endless list of stalkers.
So, as the not-so vague title suggests, Killer Sofa revolves around a murdering chair that becomes fixated on a young woman called Francesca, whom happens to be so alluring that every single man drop to their knees and yearn for her love (no, seriously...). It soon transpires, after much investigational exposition, that the chair is possessed by a Dybbuk and feeds off the souls of the innocent. It springs into action (literally!), walks around the apartment and slaughter its victims with its reclining metal brackets. Oh, and by carrying a metal iron.
Rao’s Kiwi comedic horror had the potential to live up to several hilarious features that recognise the lunacy of its premise. King’s wooly baaa-d film ‘Black Sheep’ understood the balance between sheer hilarity and serious storytelling. Killer Sofa, unfortunately, forgot to read that memo. The humour is dry. So dry, that it’s almost unidentifiable. From character names including detective Bob Gravy to questionable acting that failed to capitalise on its hyperbolic premise. Is it purposefully bad? Or just terrible? Who knows! Consequently, the entire feature feels all too serious regarding its ludicrous plot, relinquishing the vast majority of entertainment to be had. The runtime is expended attempting to depict the origins of the Dybbuk possessing the beige recliner, instead of supporting the concept of a chair wandering the streets (oh yes, it does have the ability to walk!) and slaying innocent civilians with its coiled springs. Essentially, wasting a perfectly solid humorous story.
Impatience increases every time a person sits on the recliner and gracefully leaps away from it. Where’s the chomping? Sofa munching is what we desired! The story itself is predictably pedestrian, with limited imagination displayed due to the strict replication of other possession-based features. Several dream sequences, including but not limited to Francesca sexually touching up the recliner in obtuse misty red mood lighting (yeah, me neither...), add some fragmentation to the narrative and some creative directorial choices.
Unfortunately though, for an imaginative comedic horror revolving around a possessed recliner, it’s extraordinarily uninspired. Had it opted for a less serious route, Killer Sofa could’ve been a bloody fun time to sit through. As it stands, it’s just another antiqued furniture that time will forget...