"So.. he's a moron.. yet two women both want to hump him? At the same time?"
"I was thirty miles outside of Barstow when the drugs kicked in." At least that's how I felt when watching this retarded affair. Proof positive that Stephen Baldwin knows nothing about choosing a script, Bitter Harvest is about as ridiculous as low budget erotic thrillers get. A slow-headed country bumpkin is left a farm and a valuable coin collection when his god-fearing dad dies, when suddenly a gorgeous blonde shows up looking for directions. She seduces him, screws him senseless, and the next day yet another blonde shows up, this one looking to buy his property, who also screws him senseless. Then, when they’re all finished screwing each other senseless, they have a threesome.Then they have another.
Then the girls make out some.
Then bank robbers show up and try to have their way with the women, only to get killed, leaving their future plans and maps and money and car behind.
So what would you do if you were having nightly threesomes with gorgeous blondes and suddenly a large quantity of stolen money showed up in your barn? Yes, that’s right, if you’re these motards you take over from the bank robbers and put everything on the line to play ‘bank robber’ for a day.
Now… maybe it’s me, but if I was in this story I’d have said, “no, I’m good, I’m having regular threesomes with gorgeous blondes and now have lots of money,” but not this guy. He’s happy to risk everything just for a few moments of larceny. Why? I have no clue. I honestly cannot conceive of a reason beyond total psychosis for this behavior.
Sure, Stephen Baldwin isn’t generally a name you associate with movies that make a lot of sense (Usual Suspects notwithstanding), but this thing is so totally boring and unrealistic that it’s really hard to watch. If not for the nudity of the gals (which, granted, is very nice and very prevalent), there’d honestly be nothing else to watch here but Baldwin’s mullet.
The direction, by TV hack Duane Clark, manages to introduce tons of sub-plots (such as flashbacks to a mysterious robed figure) then completely ignore them for the remainder of the film. The continual staring of Baldwin’s character at a badly painted portrait of a stern old dude would be far less funny if they weren’t accompanied by ‘mysterious music’ that leaves you wondering when the painting’s eyes are going to move.They never do, though yours will. They’ll roll back into your head if you sit through this dreck.