Forget about the Mad Scientist. What about the Mad Producer? I'm usually okay with people letting the creepy stuff out of their ids in an artistic medium where it's small and controllable and they can exercise their higher human sentience over the outcome to make it better. The trouble is, this is unleashed on an actual audience — or at least on the people who actually make a point of responding to their curiosity and clicking on the gross-fest, as though the ickiness of the summary isn't enough to ward them off — and we have to absorb, transcend and transform it, as though there isn't enough madness in the real world to work through.