The Parrot Head is a monster that seeks to kill and can pass on its curse through the bite of its beak, transforming its victims when they’re sober. That means this movie lives up to the lyrics of its inspiration: “It was too much tequila, or not quite enough.”

I watched this because I thought it was Stage Fright, but instead of an owl, it was a Buffet-obsessed killer and not a parrot.

Paul Dale, who wrote this with Dylan McGovern, also directed Killer Kites and Sewer Gators. I wonder if he feels like I do about Buffet — I don’t want to disparage the dead, RIP — but I fucking hate the man’s music. This is 50 minutes long and 10 minutes of joke-laden credits if that’s what you’re wondering. You can’t fill two hours of a movie with a captain’s hat-wearing parrot-murdering machine. But damn, Paul Dale, I want to see you try.

That said, this is about as good as you think it’s going to be, and if you’re watching it just based on the name — and not the pessimistic assumption that you’re watching a Giallo about the son of the son of a sailor — it’s done its job. As the director says on Letterboxd, “If you go into this expecting something other than pure silliness, you’re going to have a bad time.”

This movie also has an opera-singing shark. How about that? Just the title alone is an accomplishment, then you throw in a wereparrot and a shark who can sing Pagliacci.

You can watch this on Tubi or buy it from the BY THE HORNS site.