There are many disturbing horror films that are so tough to get through due to the psychological dynamics, graphic violence, high magnitude of gore and even “based on real life events”. What I Meant To Say Was hard to watch because it was just outright hard to sit through. What I meant to say was…this is bad.

Michael (Wandling), who looks to be in his mid-late 30’s, is texting his much younger girlfriend Lana (Scarborough) while driving, when he suddenly gets into a fatal accident. I presume it was instant, as he immediately appears along a dirt path in the woods and met by his “Tour Guide to Hell”, Chang (Whorley.) Chang dons an AC/DC “Highway to Hell” tee (planned irony doesn’t score points for me, sorry) and peculiar face makeup that never gets addressed. I believe he is the film’s comedic performer since he has a clown-like presence, but the sound quality in this movie was so low and muffled, that most of Chang’s dialogue went unheard for the full 90 min.

From what I could detect, Michael needs to finish the text message he meant to send Lana when he was so unkindly disrupted by the car crash that killed him. With the help of quirky Chang and a very strange hell resident, Carmeletta (Grace), the threesome is determined to walk through circles of hell until they reach the spot where Michael can send off his full text message to his girlfriend who mourns his passing.

Of course, time is limited…6 hours, 6 minutes, and 6 seconds (if memory serves?) Yes, another unneeded cliché.

During the damned group’s travels, they encounter obstacles and even a death (yes, apparently you CAN die twice?), but nothing seems to deter Michael from reaching the point of his goal. To finish a text. My eyes are still rolling back into my skull.

While all that unrelated chaos occurs, we endure flashbacks to how Michael met Lana, their budding romance and Lana’s painstakingly dedication to her all-girl’s hard rock band. Which we never see perform.  But who really cares, right?

Throughout this disheveled film, the brightness appears in Sheri Davis whose performance is relative to a demonized sex-kitten in red lingerie and unfortunately short-lived. Why her character is called Horny is anything but clever, as it invokes just poor judgement in this already unfunny “comedy”. I just didn’t get it, and stopped trying by the time I was 26 minutes in.

The only piece of What I Meant To Say Was that I enjoyed, is the title.