The moment I saw that Slaxx was made by the same folks behind Turbo Kid, I knew I had to see it.
Turbo Kid is one of my favorite post-apocalyptic movies ever—at least as good as, if not better than, Mad Max. So anything even remotely connected to Turbo Kid is a must-watch for me.
But Slaxx? Slaxx is nothing like Turbo Kid.
This is a movie about killer jeans—yes, jeans that literally murder people. It’s not even directed by the same people. Elza Kephart directed Slaxx, co-writing it with Patricia Gomez. Kephart has worked on a few genre films, mostly Canadian productions, and this one is no exception. It is unmistakably Canadian, right down to the name of the retail store where it’s set: Canadian Cotton Clothier.
More on that in a bit.
First, I have to emphasize that this horror film was not only written and directed by a woman, but it is clearly made for a female audience—which is absolutely fine. Historically, women have been some of the most passionate horror fans. You can see that reflected in Slaxx’s concerns.
Now, let’s talk about the premise: it’s completely ridiculous. The idea that an inanimate pair of jeans could kill people? Absurd. Well, technically inanimate—until they become possessed and start thirsting for blood. With a concept like that, you don’t expect much. This sits in the same realm as Killdozer!, Killer Sofa, and other “killer inanimate object” films. And yet, to my surprise, Slaxx actually wants to say something.
This movie has a message.
Granted, it’s not subtle—at all—but it’s clear. No fuzziness. Slaxx is a critique of performative activism in retail, especially in fast fashion. And this is a particularly Canadian concern. Here in Canada, ethical consumerism has been a huge marketing angle, especially with brands like Lululemon—founded and headquartered in my hometown, Vancouver. Lululemon originally positioned itself as wholesome and ethical, but over time, the mask slipped. The company was rocked by scandals, exposing how much of that “goodness” was a lie.
The founder of Lululemon, Chip Wilson, is basically Vancouver’s version of Elon Musk. Tesla started with promises of saving the planet, and look how that turned out. Wilson followed a similar trajectory, becoming a billionaire willing to sell out everyone for profit, even pushing extreme right-wing policies. Slaxx taps into that kind of corporate hypocrisy.
Inside the movie, the characters are broad stereotypes—but that’s fine, because this is a satire.
Our protagonist is a new hire, full of hope, believing in CCC’s (Canadian Cotton Clothiers) mission. She sees the company as a force for good. Through her eyes, we meet the rest of the cast:
- The vain, image-obsessed influencers eager to show off their butts in the new jeans.
- The sassy, smack-talking gay Asian guy.
- The Indian girl who “doesn’t care” about anything but also resents being stereotyped—ironically making her a stereotype.
- The visionary CEO, spewing corporate buzzwords and giving strong Chip Wilson vibes.
- The smarmy, self-serving manager whose only goal is a promotion to regional manager.
- And, of course, the real star of the show: the killer jeans.
Since this is a horror movie, expect plenty of blood, guts, and grotesque, over-the-top kills. They’re creative, they’re excessive, and they’re fun.
Now, onto the flaws.
First, Slaxx is lean. At 1 hour and 16 minutes, it moves fast. That’s great for pacing but comes at a cost—there’s zero character development. If you’re looking for emotional arcs, you won’t find them. This is a movie about action and message, not character growth.
Second, and maybe this is something only a Canadian would notice, Slaxx tries way too hard to be Canadian. I get it. In today’s political climate, certain extreme American right-wingers claim Canada “isn’t a real country.” But Canada does have culture. The problem is that sometimes it feels government-mandated. You can feel how much of Slaxx’s funding was likely tied to promoting “Canadian values.” And while I do believe in Canadian values, the way they’re pushed here feels heavy-handed.
The movie would have been more Canadian if it had just focused on critiquing Canadian corporations. Because let’s be real—Canadian retailers are shady as hell.
Take Peter Nygård, for example. His company, Nygård International, was once Canada’s largest producer of women’s apparel. And Peter Nygård? A convicted sex offender. He had been sexually abusing women since at least 1968, racking up charges in the ’80s, ’90s, and beyond. It took over 50 years for him to be held accountable. That is the kind of real-world evil that exists in Canadian fashion retail.
If Slaxx had leaned harder into that critique instead of doing the whole “look how Canadian we are!” routine, it would have been a stronger film. The real horror isn’t just possessed jeans—it’s the unchecked power of these CEOs. That’s where the movie could have gone deeper. That’s where it missed an opportunity.
So, what’s the final verdict?
I think Slaxx is fun. If you’re a horror fan, there’s plenty to enjoy. It’s fast-paced, funny, and has a clear message. It’ll especially resonate with women who’ve worked retail. If you’ve ever been stuck at a job like The Gap, this movie will either traumatize you or have you laughing your ass off.
Like, come on—they refer to sections of the store as ecosystems.
That kind of satire works. What drags the movie down is its lack of character development, its occasional preachiness, and its insistence on showcasing Canadian-ness rather than critiquing it.
So, do I recommend Slaxx?
Kinda. It’s not for everyone. But it’s better than terrible.
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