Cannibal Comedian: A Killer Act Serving Screams and Laughs

By Seth Metoyer, MoreHorrorMovies.com,

We’ve all been there—staring into the abyss, contemplating life’s trajectory, wondering if there’s more to existence than the same old routine. Some people buy a motorcycle. Others pack a bag and disappear into Southeast Asia for six months. Charlie, our protagonist in Cannibal Comedian, takes a different route—he decides to swap out his cleaver for a microphone.

But old habits die hard. And so do the people who cross his path.

This is not a film for the faint of heart or those who prefer their horror sterilized and neatly packaged. No, this is for the adrenaline junkies, the midnight-movie loyalists, the kind of people who find beauty in blood splatter and humor in the darkest corners of humanity. This is Cannibal Comedian, a film that asks: What if Texas Chain Saw’s Leatherface had a tight five at The Comedy Store?

A GUTSY CAREER MOVE

Meet Charlie (Aaron Prager), a man who’s spent his life carving up more than just a reputation. A veteran in the art of butchery—both in the kitchen and on the streets—Charlie grows weary of the same old cycle: kidnap, kill, consume, repeat. The existential dread of doing what you love but not loving what you do. So he decides to reinvent himself. To trade terror for timing.

Comedy, after all, is just tragedy plus time. And murder? Well, that’s just another form of audience participation.

BLOOD-STAINED CREDENTIALS

The cast reads like a Who’s Who of underground horror royalty. Austin Judd and Robert Dunne add the necessary firepower, but the real treat for horror purists is the presence of Edwin Neal and Allen Danziger, veterans of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. It’s like watching two old war criminals returning to the battlefield, battle-hardened and smirking, as they pass the bloodied baton to the next generation.

And while Cannibal Comedian slathers itself in arterial spray and gallows humor, it’s also got credentials. This isn’t some fly-by-night, streaming-service filler. It’s already left a trail of bodies—er, awards—on the festival circuit: CineWorld, Days of the Dead, HorrorHound, Joe Bob Briggs’ Drive-In Festival, and many others. That kind of street cred doesn’t come easy.

THE MAIN COURSE

For those who like their horror served rare and bloody, here’s when and where you can feast on Cannibal Comedian:

March 1, 2025 – Scream Team Releasing dropped a Collector’s Edition Blu-ray and VHS. Yes, VHS. Because if you’re the kind of person who enjoys this film, you probably also enjoy the warm, flickering glow of an old CRT and the way a cassette tape sounds as it’s devoured by a VCR. Pre-orders are open at Scream Team’s website. Bonus features include six hours of behind-the-scenes footage, deleted scenes, and an alternate ending (probably one where Charlie actually sticks to open mics and doesn't eat the audience).

March 4, 2025 – It slashed its way onto Screambox, with additional availability on Amazon Prime, Apple TV, and all the usual digital suspects. Perfect for when you want to watch something truly unhinged but aren’t ready to commit to another overpriced boutique horror Blu-ray that you'll throw on a shelf and forget about until company comes over.

A DIRECTOR WITH A DARK SENSE OF HUMOR

Sean Haitz, the man behind the madness, describes the film as a Texas Chain Saw tribute with the comedic sensibility of Ace Ventura. A mix of unhinged carnage and absurdist humor, like watching a slasher flick through the lens of a stand-up comic who’s spent too much time bombing at open mics in dive bars.

“This film is a love letter to my favorite horror classics and my own personal descent into stand-up comedy,” Haitz says. “I think people are really going to eat it up.”

Which is either a clever marketing line or a warning. Possibly both.

WHAT IT ALL MEANS

In a world where horror often takes itself too seriously—where every villain must have a tragic backstory and every kill must serve a greater cinematic purpose—it’s refreshing to see a film that just wants to have fun. Cannibal Comedian doesn’t need a high-concept twist or a franchise plan. It just wants to revel in the absurdity of a man who loves murder but loves making people laugh just a little bit more.

It’s a dark, blood-soaked reminder that the line between comedy and horror is thinner than we think. That sometimes, the only thing separating a comedian from a serial killer is whether or not the audience survives the set.

And that, dear readers, is what makes this one worth watching.