Watching “Crank: High Voltage” is like seeing a porn star strapped with dynamite launched out of a cannon into a brick wall: loud, dumb, gratuitous and delightfully offensive.

Picking up moments after the first film ended, “Crank: High Voltage” takes the raucous insanity of the first film and shifts it up a few gears. This time, instead of using adrenaline to fight poison, Jason Statham’s Jason Voorhees-esque hit man must constantly charge an artificial heart with escalating levels of electricity. It’s basically like “Grand Theft Auto: the Movie.” Among his fuel sources are cigarette lighters, Tasers, car batteries, dog shock-collars and public sex.

Everything about this movie is vile, obnoxious and stupid. It’s an unending stream of pointless, ultra-violent nihilism, misogyny and cruel racism. It contains some of the most needless and sadistic violence in recent memory. And I mean all of that as a high compliment.

“Crank: High Voltage” is the kind of movie that needs to be seen to be believed. The violence is shocking, the humor is grotesque and the nipples-per-minute factor hovers around a 2:5 ratio. Whereas the first film pretended it was a real movie with characters and plot and what have you, this sequel carries no such pretense. It wall-to-wall mocks physics, good taste and genre conventions.

Hardcore fans will be rewarded with cameos from damn near every single character from the original film, from orderlies with 45 seconds of screen time to undead villains to a huge number of identical twin brothers out for revenge.

“Crank: High Voltage” is like a movie sent back from the year 2250. They’ve finally cracked the code for making videogame-to-movie translations. The solution is: Don’t make the game.