Rock 'n' Roll Frankenstein
Rock 'n' Roll Frankenstein
| 01 January 1999 (USA)
Rock 'n' Roll Frankenstein Trailers

The movie follows Bernie, a record producer who persuades his nephew Frankie to create a new rock star that will help Bernie overcome his work related ennui. Iggy, the burnt out roadie pillages the graves of various celebrities such as Buddy Holly, Jimi Hendrix, and Sid Vicious, using the head of Elvis Presley to top things off.

Reviews
Evengyny Thanks for the memories!
WasAnnon Slow pace in the most part of the movie.
Tetrady not as good as all the hype
StyleSk8r At first rather annoying in its heavy emphasis on reenactments, this movie ultimately proves fascinating, simply because the complicated, highly dramatic tale it tells still almost defies belief.
Michael O'Keefe Intended to be a comedy, horror flick...you may have to be the judge yourself to see if this movie rocks or sinks like a rock. The plot sounds like it has the promise of being funny; an overly ambitious record producer Bernie Stein (Barry Feterman) hoodwinks a nephew scientist Frankie (Jayson Spense) into constructing the world's greatest entertainer. We say constructing...stitching a superstar out of stolen body parts from late and great rock 'n' rollers like Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Elvis Presley. We're talking, head to feet and all in between like brains, hands and even...penis. Drug addled roadie Iggy (Hiram Jacob Segarra) does a good job stealing bits and pieces of body part, but by accident grabs a vital organ from Liberace. This stitched monstrosity named "King" (Graig Guggenheim) is going to be hard to train and control.Brian O'Hara directs and shares in the writing of this rated R feature and I would not recommend viewing by small children. Lots of vulgar language and situations. A very small budget that allows way too many low class and gay jokes. If you happen to really love Rock 'n' Roll, you may find this too irreverent. Have you ever tried to stop looking at a train wreck?
Michael Ledo Frankie Stein (Jayson Spence) constructs "The King" (Graig Guggenheim) from various rock star body parts for his agent/producer uncle Bernie (Barry Feterman). From what I gather, he has the head of Elvis, the legs of Keith Moon, the hands of Jimi Hendrix, the butt of Sid Vicious, and something from Buddy Holly. However due to a mix up, he gets the organ of Liberace. This leads us to a film which concentrates too much sexual confusion. He leads a band called "Unnatural Urges." There was so much they could have done with this film had they not wanted it to be overly gay. The dialogue was poorly constructed as were the characters. It was a let down from all the potential the film had.Guide: F-word, sex, nudity (Kate Fallon, Joan Gerardi)
MikoSquiz This is quite possibly the worst movie I've ever seen. Shoddy production values could be forgiven, even poor editing and lousy pacing could be excused by the occasional good scene or a belly laugh, but these are nowhere to be found. The lone standout scene is the musical number, which manages to be vaguely acceptable, and the most amusing thing in the entire duration of the movie is a constantly stoned hippie character.Let me repeat that.The funniest thing in the film is a stoned hippie character who ends every line with "dude" or "man". He doesn't do or say anything particularly funny, either, but just by being a stoned hippie and saying "dude" and "man" he still manages to be funnier than everything else.I'd try to summarize briefly just how dire this failed horror spoof is, but words fail me. You'll just have to see it yourself - it's prime material for a Mystery Science Theater-style evening at home with friends and a drink or seven, and not just because you need alcohol to dull the pain of witnessing the black hole where comedy dies in terrible pain.
Gore-Hound This movie was really horrible. I can't believe I wasted my time/money on this piece of garbage. I generally would not post a negative review on here, but I feel people must be warned. At least it sounded decent on paper, but on screen, it just wasn't all there. Mary Shelley is probably rolling around in her grave.