The stench of stale coffee and crushed hope. That’s the real star of this flick. You’ve got three pathetic morons trapped in a shitty diner at 2 AM, and instead of just doing their fucking job, they decide to play detective with some quiet-ass customer. You will spend every minute after their first stupid decision wanting to punch every single one of them. You know what’s coming, and it’s a bloody, glorious trainwreck.
TAKE OUT: A Greasy Spoon Slasher That Serves a Heaping Pile of Stupid
Let’s get one thing straight: Takeout is a Tubi Original. That ain’t a fucking accolade, it’s a warning label. This is the cinematic equivalent of a greasy, lukewarm burger you find on the floor of a gas station bathroom. It’s probably gonna give you something, but you’re too goddamn desperate for a quick fix to care. This ain’t high art, it’s low-rent, single-location bullshit, and thank fuck for that. There’s no pretense here, just a whole lot of bad ideas and enough fake blood to drown a fucking cat.
The premise is so beautifully, brutally simple it makes my head hurt. You’ve got three diner employees who, after a long night of flipping burgers, think playing private eye is a good way to kill time. They’re so bored they’re practically begging for a serial killer to end their miserable lives. You will spend half this movie screaming, “DON’T FUCKING GO IN THERE, YOU IDIOT!” and that, my friends, is the only goddamn point. This flick isn’t about clever twists or a master villain. It’s a slow, agonizing crawl that turns into a frantic, gory sprint. It’s a cheap thrill, and it gets the job done.
The Direction and Performances: More Crap, Less Polish
Jem Garrard, the director, knows exactly what kind of movie she’s making. She’s not trying to reinvent the wheel. She’s just making sure the wheel is covered in blood and spinning as fast as it fucking can. The tight, claustrophobic feel of the diner works, and the camera loves to linger on the dark corners, building a tension that’s way more effective than a lot of other pretentious horror flicks out there.
The cast, a mix of unknowns and who-gives-a-shits, does what they’re paid to do. N’kone Mametja and Deoudoné Pretorius carry the film, but it’s really the dynamic between these three clowns that holds the first half together. Their frantic, bone-headed decisions are what drive the plot forward. You’ll hate them for it, and that’s a testament to the actors for making you care, even if you’re rooting for their swift and painful deaths.
The Theme: A Side of Soul-Crushing Boredom
The real terror here isn’t the killer. It’s the soul-crushing despair of a dead-end fucking job. These kids aren’t hunting a serial killer because they’re heroes. They’re doing it because it’s the most exciting thing to ever happen to them. This whole bloody mess is just a side effect of them being bored out of their fucking minds at 2 AM. It’s a cautionary tale about what happens when a craving for something to do becomes a craving for a bloody grave.
So, is Takeout a masterpiece? Not even close. It drags a bit in the beginning, and you’ll want to punch the main characters at least a dozen times. But as a simple, no-frills slasher, it delivers the goods. It’s the kind of movie you put on when you’re craving a bloody, greasy mess without all the frills.
Sammy’s Final Word
Takeout is a solid, bloody waste of time. Don’t go in expecting the next Hereditary. Go in expecting a stupid, greasy, good time, and you’ll get exactly that. It’s a 5.0/10 on the horror scale. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s exactly what it is, and it doesn’t give a flying fuck what you think.
If you want to watch Takeout you can check it out over on Tubi.
