Jay Allen Sanford 1 p.m., May 4
- Rated NR | 1 hour, 35 minutes
- View trailer
While at a rave, career stoner Lou (Natasha Lyonne) blacks out. She wakes up pregnant, and other than “some immaculate conception shit,” has no idea who the father is. Is it the work of a narcotics gang that began by selling urine to college kids looking to ace a drug test and wound up dealing in arms? (Human arms.) At once cynical and spirit-dampening, and apart from a few gross out effects, don’t expect much in the way of horror. Writer-director Danny Perez instead deals a lively, shrewdly amusing hand, reminiscent of infectious ’70s schlock like The Manitou or Shivers. Watching Lyonne smoke and drink the trimesters away reminds one just how much her absence from the big screen has been missed. She’s pretty much the whole show until the arrival of Meg Tilly whose performance as Lou’s violently insane savior ranks as one of the year’s finest. 2016.