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GWAR present five of the best bloodiest moments committed to silver screen history

The Lion King

GWAR doesn¹t watch movies with death in them. We are spellbound by animated features like The Lion King and The Little Mermaid. If we want to see death, we just make it happen. It’s like a sex worker watching porn; who gives a shit anymore?

Our slaves, on the other hand, watch crappy movies all night and then beg us to leave the torch on in the dungeon because they¹re too freaked out to sleep.

In no particular order, these are the juicy deaths most cherished by the mental midgets that serve the mighty GWAR!


The theatrical release waters down the death of the human protagonist that becomes RoboCop; but in the unrated, uncut version, Peter Weller¹s death at the hands of Red Forman¹s gang of uzi-toting dimwits just goes on and on and on and on and on.


Next to R. Budd Dwyer’s rollicking resignation, this is our favorite exploding head. Michael Ironside blows up another man¹s head with his mind in what looks like a poorly attended lecture hall, or the set of Dick Cavett’s TV show. The lead-up to the payoff is the best part as the two men look like they are jerking each other off under the table.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail

The Black Knight doesn’t actually die, but his plucky resolve in the face of gradual dismemberment was an inspiration to GWAR. Some say the group developed its infamous spew technology (for hosing down audiences with blood and semen) from a book that showed how the actor was rigged with a hose connected to a fire extinguisher. But that’s bullshit. Everybody knows all the deaths on a GWAR stage are real!

The Passion of the Christ

The Crucifixion scene in this movie is hilarious. Mel Gibson manages to channel his Jew-baiting bitterness into what the late Dave Brockie called “the Punching of the Christ” – an extended, heavy handed, melodramatic piece of shit meant to evoke emotions from stupid Christians.


When you fuck with Tony Montana, you fuck with the best. He takes hundreds of rounds from automatic weapons in a coked-up jig of death. No doubt, he would have made it down the stairs to shove those guns up the asses of his assassins if it weren’t for that last shotgun blast in the back. Even GWAR squeals with glee at the site of Montana¹s swan dive into the fountain of his tacky mansion.