For a long time, I just could not get on board with the whole damn Shot-On-Video Revolution, especially when it came to horror movies. I admired the icy clarity of digital video when it came to documentaries and the occasional funny short, but as far as features were concerned, I remained a snarky elitist bastard in my preference for "the look" of film.

Okay, so I’m still a snarky elitist bastard. (Screw off.) But I confess I’ve recently come around to the wonders of DV features. In the end, it all comes down to the talent of the people involved. For example, a complete hack who might have been able to hide behind a few cinematic tricks on film is exposed for the moron he is when he grinds out a big, steaming turd with his XL-1. Conversely, while it may be more challenging to carry off a unique style on video, a talented director’s skills can bust through the medium’s limitations.

The first film to challenge my old assertions was Dan Clark’s "The Item," which also happened to be the first DV feature (transferred to 35mm for exhibition) to receive a Grand Jury nomination at Sundance. Clark, whose previous work included writing for children’s shows like "Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation," declares his film to be "A Modern-Art Exploitation Flick." This handle would seem to indicate a film at odds with itself - and I guess that’s a little bit true - but somehow, in its own little brain- damaged world, it works.

The story introduces us to a group of pissy, bickering criminals - sociopathic leader Alex (director Clark); computer whiz Lauren (the very yummy Dawn Marie Velasquez); trigger-man Martin (co-producer Dave Pressler, sporting David Crosby mustache) and beleaguered henchman fatty (Dan Lake) - rendezvous in the Mojave desert to pick up a large sealed techno-box containing an object that may or may not be the end result of your standard-issue "Secret Government Project" (cue scary music).

Their assignment involves purchasing the stolen "Item" from their contact, Dr. Ody (kooky stage magician Ron Fitzgerald), then posting up at a temporary hideout to await instructions from a nameless online client. As expected, things begin to go wrong after about seventeen seconds.

Shortly the team arrives at their HQ: the apartment of Alex’s girlfriend Rita (Judy Jean Kwon), an eccentric art student whose dead-baby decorating scheme is even more nightmarish than Hildy’s circus-tent living room on "Trading Spaces." After a hysterical chase involving a group of ninja drag queens (don’t ask), the boozed-up crew decide to pop open the box for a look.

What happens next pretty much determines how you’re going to handle the rest of the film. Those unfortunate fools who base their rental or purchase solely on Artisan’s crapulent cover art (which seems to be pitching the product as "Jeepers Creepers" meets "Jurassic Park") will feel profoundly rooked when they see the title beastie. After all, the real "monster" in this story is not the thing in the box.

I’ll admit I gasped at Clark’s audacity when I first saw it emerge from its cocoon - the damn thing looks like a prototype from the H.R. Giger dildo collection - and I laughed out loud when it started talking in a funny little voice (it’s actually Pressler’s voice, altered to sound like a South Park character). But by damn, the thing grew on me. (Maybe I should have phrased that differently.)

Anyway, the weenie-worm soon reveals its ability to psychically tap into human brainwaves and pry out a person’s deep-seated insecurities - and naturally, these crooks have an assload of ‘em. The end result is quick, loud and very messy.

Depending on your sense of humor, the last ten minutes will either have you cackling with girlish glee (as I did, while my wife cowered in another room), or shaking your head at the film’s self-indulgent art-house excess. Maybe both. Whatever.

Clark’s film may be a little pretentious here, a lot silly there, and sometimes just stupid gross (the used condom joke was funny until that extreme close-up), but it’s definitely never boring. Part of the fun is the director’s hilariously over-the-top turn as the 100% conscience-free Alex; it’s pretty obvious this dirtbag is being set up for the most flamboyant demise possible.

Artisan more or less acquitted themselves for the abysmal box art by allowing Clark and DVD designer Nathan Cabrera to put together a very entertaining and unique package. Clark’s own approved cut of the film (mastered, it seems, from the 35mm negative instead of the original D- Beta source) is accompanied by a bucketful of extras - including Clark’s feature commentary; deleted footage; a behind-the-scenes compilation narrated by Clark, Lake, Pressler and main crew; Artisan’s trailer (touting the film’s Sundance premiere); "dossiers" of each team member; "found" footage of the creature on the operating table (reminiscent of the whole "Alien Autopsy" thing); groovy promo artwork (why didn’t Artisan just use these?) and more.

This is definitely a love/hate thing. Those who can see beyond Clark’s meager budget and appreciate his marriage of art-house weirdness with sardonic "splatstick" will probably have a ball. Or two. All others should run like hell.