Bad movie lovers, rejoice -- your prayers have been answered. Here is a craptacular bonanza the likes of which hasn't been seen since Howard the Duck. Actually, this film climbs to even dizzier heights than that one, climbing and climbing until it reaches the outer troposphere of good-badness. Rarely have I seen such an explosive boomerang of misdirected creativity. Land of the Blind supposedly drops us into a 'nameless' time and place, but the problem is that there's nothing nameless at all in writer/director Robert Edwards' universe. Recognizable history, architecture and costuming have all been boosted from the real world and re-arranged to some confusing purpose. The film's focus is on a Stalinist dictator with British henchmen who lives in a giant Hindu palace, enjoys American basketball, attends pagan funerals where bodies are set afire, and watches vaudeville routines. It's as if some sample-happy Martian Quentin Tarantino decided to make a film about life on Earth for an audience that knew nothing about it. There's nothing wrong with anachronism, of course. The HBO western drama Deadwood mixes and matches language from different eras, and the result is brilliant. The problem with Land of the Blind is that there is no artistry whatsoever in the usage. Everything is willy-nilly.