The Prowler

Something this movie taught me #1: Kids in the 1940's are just as blinded by lust and thick-headed as their modern day counterparts.

I can hardly imagine the horrors that one would have encountered in the Second World War. The constant feeling that each day may just be your last. Becoming emotionally attached, meeting new friends, only to see them violently torn away. Having to face down and combat human evil in its purest form. Then, a miracle happens: the fighting has stopped, and you're still alive. Home, where the people you hold dear are waiting for you. Then...it's all torn apart by something as simple as a letter. A letter written by a fickle heart, one that takes away everything you had been fighting for. Its enough to drive anyone mad...

Such is the situation facing a recently returned soldier in the small town of Avalon Bay. Come the High School Graduation Ball, the writer of said letter, Francis Rosemary Chatham and her lover decide to ditch the crowd and head somewhere a little more...private. Just as things are getting heated up, the lovers are savagely murdered by an unseen killer, who slips away into the night. Y'see, this is what happens when you tell someone that "you just want to be friends".

35 years later, and the town is struggling to escape from under the shadow caused by the murder. Pam MacDonald (Vicky Dawson) is seeking to revive the dance after a ban imposed by Rosemary's father ever since the killings. Her deputy boyfriend, Mark London (Christopher Goutman), is all for it. Just an aside: this guy, he is absolutely, positively one of the all time most useless protagonists ever to be seen in a horror movie. More on this later. Sheriff George Fraser (Farley Granger) is heading out of town for a fishing trip just as news comes in that a violent car-jacker might be headed towards the town. Deputy How-am-I-eats-food? is nervous, and Fraser doesn't really care. Nothing's going to ruin this vacation, dag nubbit! However, there is someone who doesn't want the dance to be held. See, Rosemary's killer was never found, and he's still living in the town. As the students (i,e. people who don't even know they're dead yet) prepare for the prom, the killer hauls out the ol' combat fatigues and assorted nasty weapons. Everybody's getting ready for the prom!

One of the better examples of the slasher sub-genre, Prowler stands above the crowd by fully knowing where its priorities lay: characters you'll hardly end up giving a damn about, and truly, and I mean truly exceptional set-pieces. For the most part, the characters are never able to escape beyond the first dimensional in terms of development. Not to say the acting is bad are bad, as the actors give mostly serviceable performances, especially considering what they're given, its just that nobody is particularly memorable. Dawson is easily one of the blandest "Final Girl"'s to come down the pike in a long time. It's hard to really feel emotionally invested in what she does, and when she's eventually stalked and threatened by the Prowler, chances are you won't be on the edge of your seat, wondering if she's going to survive while biting your nail down to the quick. That being said, her eventual coup-de-grace of the killer is supremely satisfying.

Now, something really has to be said about Deputy London. Look up either "inept" or "dumbass" in the dictionary, you'll likely find his picture. Here's an example: suppose you're the only law-enforcement in town, and you hear that there's a psychotic person(s) in the area. Do you

a) Make sure your girlfriend is with a group of others, and thus out of harm's way
b) Leave her alone if you must, but make sure she has some way of defending herself if necessary
c) Leave her alone, in the dark, while you stumble about, doing who knows what, while trying not to swallow your own tongue

If you answered "c", well, congratulations. You're going to get to play London in the all-too inevitable remake (who knows, it could happen). The other characters are similarly disposable fodder, save for one guy, who goes from being an extremely minor to suddenly inheriting the role of possible savior come the film's climax.

Something this movie taught me #2: Heads are squishy

The film's largest weakness is the occasional faltering pace. The body-count isn't terribly high, and the murders tend to be grouped together instead of more evenly paced out, which leads to long stretches where we ain't getting any of the red stuff. The stalking moments that don't have bloodshed are adequately suspenseful, and the movie isn't hurt too badly in the long run. But, on to the main event: the gore.

Whenever you see Tom Savini's name in the credits, you know you're in for a real treat. The man comes through and then some, and delivers some of my all time favorite effects from him. Bodies are impaled, stabbed, beaten, and even shot with ruthless abandon, and it is a true testament to Savini's skill that this movie still manages to be more visceral than many other, more modern genre fare. The kills gain brutality not via elaborately staged means, but rather in the way they're prolonged. No quick slash and then a cutaway. The victims choke and gasp their lasts breath, and the camera records it in unflinching detail. A throat is slashed, then deliberately sawed open by the killer. A skull is vertically impaled with a combat knife, to absolutely jaw-dropping effect. Basically, if you thought the Friday the 13th movies are too skimpy with the gore, this is the movie for you.

The Prowler himself is a nifty looking killer. The combat fatigues is definitely an interesting design, but the murderer is more memorable not for his physical appearance, but the utmost savagery with which he dispatches his victims. There is a level of sadism and cruelty here that hasn't been seen (to my knowledge, anyways) in most of its contemporaries. However, one gets the impression that the screenwriter had a chance to create a truly compelling and memorable villain: to get into the mind of a man, already mentally unbalanced, only to go into a full psychotic break following the Second World War, and to later continue fighting the war at home in the form of a full-on killing spree, is, for me at least, a truly tantalizing concept.

Sadly, the screenwriter neglects such psychological insight, and the fatigues just becomes another cool costume. But maybe I'm expecting too much: slasher films are hardly known for their intelligent storylines (for exceptions, see My Bloody Valentine 1981, Hills Run Red, StageFright, Cold Prey). In terms of the script; aside from the underdeveloped slasher fodder, the whodunnit aspect as dumb as a sack of hammers, and if you aren't able to guess the killer withing moments of seeing them, than shame on you.

Well, what can I say? If you don't like hack-and-slash films, there's really nothing I can do to convince you to watch this. If you do like them, well, kick up your feet, pop some corn, and enjoy the ride. And remember: heads are squishy.

Silent Scream

Imagine a time before now. A time where university registration was done not through handy online services, but in crowded gymnasium hallways, with elderly, obese and surly women taking down your student information. Welcome to 1980.

Scotty (Rebecca Balding) has just missed the bus on getting on-campus housing, and after several wasted efforts at renting a room near the university, she finally finds salvation in the form of the Engels house; the oldest, creepiest looking, Victorian-gothic looking mansion you could ever imagine. But...it has a beach in the backyard. Yay! Beach! Things continue to look up when she hooks up with the other boarders: Peter (John Widelock), Doris (Juli Andelman), and Jack (Steve Doubet), and a dinner date opens up the chance of a romance with Jack.

Unfortunately, such things were not meant to last, and one of the quartet is viciously stabbed to death the same night. Hindered by a lack of evidence and motive, the police investigation makes little progress, leaving the killer ample oppurtunity to strike again; and before the night is through, the deepest, darkest secrets of the Engels family will be cast into the light...

As I've stated with other reviews, this ain't exactly unfamiliar territory. However, one of the things that elevates this above other similar slash-and-stalk entries is the strangth of the preformances. Everybody here comes off as normal, sympathetic human beings, something that is particularly refreshing in the age of characters having to look like the 'after' pictures of people who have lost weight and buffed themselves out to an unbelievable degree. For example, one of the characters, Doris, is (GASP!) rather plain looking, but gives a very naturalistic, likeable preformance. Same can be said for all the major roles; you aren't going to be checking your watch, counting down the minutes until these people fall under the killer's knife. You will actually care about whether these people survive the night, and to fine one's self so emotionally invested in the characters of such a film is truly high praise. Furthermore, the secondary leads turn in fine preformances: from Cameron Mitchell playing a detective who looks like he's itching to knock skulls together in almost all of his scenes, to the stern Engels matriarch and her socially inept son. Finally, even though other critics have freely given away the identity of the killer, I'm going to spare you such a spoiler (don't say I never do anything nice for you guys), but I will say this. He/she gives an absolutely hair raising portrayal of a severely emotionally damaged psychopath, and the preformance will stick with you long after the credits have rolled.

If you're going in expecting bloody, lurid murders, then you're going to be sorely dissapointed. If anything, the film is more about the build-up to the murder, with the actual violence being largely implied. Considerable suspense is to be found in these moments just before the deaths, and lends the movie a certain sense of...well, classiness, I suppose, that exists in other films such as Halloween, Psycho, and Black Christmas. Not to say that Silent Scream reaches the same level of importance as those three (though personally, I enjoyed this more than Psycho and Halloween), but overall, it does stand out as a more polished, finely-crafted work than its contemporaries (it is well worth noting that the score does contain several riffs that were more than likely inspired by Pysycho , as well as a murder that is a deliberate homage to the shower scene of the same film).

Director Denny Harris displays a sure, confident hand in making the mansion as threatening and claustrophobic as possible; indeed, this movie simply oozes atmosphere. The suspense scenes are handled remarkably well, with the climax in particular full of white-knuckled tension.

The only real flaws come during the climatic downpour of hideous family secrets near the end; not that the subject matter becomes any less believable, but a couple of the preformances begin ranging from admirably understated and believable to a tad too melodramatic for my liking. Then again, giving the gothis, "it was a dark and stormy night" mood throughout the proceedings, it doesn't stand out all that much.

So, there you have it. If you have even a passing interest in the slasher sub-genre, be sure to check out this formerly-lost 80's gem

The Hills Run Red

Slasher films are a dime-a-dozen. They really are. In the end, most of them can be summed up in just a few words: "scary guy in mask chases hot girl in *insert location here*." This is a sub-genre that is not appreciated for aspects such as acting, screenwriting, directing, etc... We come to these films for a few things: beautiful people, (often without a thought in their pretty little heads), said beautiful people being slashed, bludgeoned, burned, completely destroyed, and a cool killer. As entertaining as this formula can be *please refer to the Friday the 13th series*, there is no doubt that these films are getting stale.

Now, a little while back, I reviewed Cold Prey, a terrific little film that sought to place character development and genuine suspense over flashy, gorelicious kills. And whaddya know, it worked. New life was injected into a genre long thought stuck in the mud. Which now brings us to The Hills Run Red.

Tyler (Tad Hilgenbrinck) loves horror movies. Really, REALLY loves horror movies. He'll pass up a night of lovin' with his girlfriend Serina (Janet Montgomery) to pursue genre-related activities. He irritates his friend Lalo (Alex Wyndham) with his love of the genre. Even his room is plastered with many fantastic (and unfortunately fake) posters that simply ooze with awesome 80's cheesiness. The latest object of his desire is an obscure 80's slasher-opus titled The Hills Run Red, a film that was only screened once and immediately banned, mainly due to the film's alleged instances of extreme violence and sadism. Adding to the mystery, the stars were never found, and the director apparently went into a self-imposed exile, and has not been heard from since. Now, if you've seen at least one horror movie, alarm bells should be ringing. Resigned with the knowledge that he will likely never see Hills, he attempts to satisfy himself by watching the film's crudely made trailer over, and over, and over again.

Fortunately, hope comes in the form of scantily clad women when Tyler tracks down the director's daughter, Alexa (Sophie Monk) to a strip club. Y'see, Alexa was a star in Hills, and Tyler hopes to gain some juicy behind-the-scenes info from her. What he finds, however, is a scarred young woman who likes playing with an ornate dagger AND injecting herself with heroin. Clearly, this is someone who has done well for themselves after show business. But Tyler ain't gonna have any of this, dag nubbit. He's a FAN. Acting as all dedicated fans would, he forces her to detox (a nicely edited sequence), and with her, Serina and Lalo in tow, sets out to make his own documentary on the lost slasher flick. This means going to the shooting locations. In the woods. I'll repeat it: deep in the woods. For someone as deeply in love with the genre as Tyler, one would think he would have at least some worries about going into a green No-Man's Land, but hey, he is a character in a slasher movie. Little do they know, the object of their desire never stopped shooting, and the hulking, masked killer known as "Babyface" is stalking them" and he"s all too eager to meet his new "cast members".

As you've likely gathered from the plot synopsis, this ain't out to break any new ground. And that's just it: it ain't trying to be "THE NEXT BIG THING IN HORROR". Instead, it acts as a sort of love letter to the horror genre in general. The film's humor doesn't quite reach the same level of self-reference as Scream, but there are still many winks and nudges; be it Lalo's theory on civilization and "ass-loving rednecks", to his decision to bring a handgun along, cause you just know they'll be needing one. The knowing in-jokes could very easily have become over-bearing, and truth be told, when a villain near the end talks about screen transitions, it does become a little hard not to slap your forehead and groan. Luckily, for the most part, it works well, because after all, the movie is actually about trying to find another movie, and we have a hero who is a self-professed film buff.

So many times in a slasher film, you couldn't give a rats ass about the main characters AKA meat sacks. You don't care about them as human beings, you just look at your watch, counting down towards the moment when the killer jumps out and wipes them off the face of the Earth. If these self-centered, obnoxious asses don't die, you WILL feel cheated. Its a fact. Which is all the more refreshing that we don't exactly want these people to die. Not that they're particularly deep characters, with Alexa as the tortured director's daughter by far coming off as the most interesting; but they're still likable enough that you secretly hope that they make it out alive. But then that would mean being robbed of a good kill, and that would get you antsy, you contradictory so-and-so's.

Traditionally, a slasher film lives and dies based on the strength of its kills and antagonist. So how do they rank up? The bloodshed seems surprisingly restrained, given the film's core concept. That being said, there is an intensely gory and disturbing pre-credits sequence detailing the back story of Babyface, and many of the film-within-a-film kills, though brief, will easily satisfy one's bloodlust, as well as a variety of stabbings, bludgeonings, mutilation, and an impaling. Don't worry folks; things do get wet. It would have been preferable if the murders were done with more old-school techniques, as there is some iffy CGI for at least one of the deaths, but the work is solid overall. And of the film's killer? Simply put, Babyface is easily one of the most genuinely horrifying and imposing screen presences ever to have come to the genre. Everything, from the shattered doll mask, to the baby rattle (yes, you read that correctly) make him one of the most iconic killers I've ever seen. Besides, when was the last time you were actually scared by a slasher? Surprisingly, one of his greatest moments isn't even centered around a kill, but is handled so well that it will easily send a chill down your spine.

Arguably the film's biggest weakness is the introduction of the third act twist. Even though it takes the film into much darker and warped territory, as well as offering genuinely amusing commentary on the current "torture porn" sub-genre, those who expected straight-up slasher fare will likely be disappointed. It is also here that the more painful instances of the self-referential dialogue show up. However, unlike many slasher films that feature the Final Girl and a triumphant ending, Hills slides fully into doom and despair in the final act, and ends on a genuinely unsettling coda.

This isn't a film that is going to convert newcomers into the horror genre. Rather, it is made strictly for people who have a genuine passion for such films, and also serves to remind that the genre, despite the jaw-dropping amount of crappy remakes and crappier original films, is still alive and kicking.

Cold Prey

At face value, there's really nothing all that original about the Norweigan Cold Prey: it is essentially the story of a group of friends who are stalked by a hulking, masked psychopath. All the genre cliches are firmly in place: from the isolated setting, to the spunky Final Girl facing off against the killer in a climatic death match. Luckily, what makes this film ultimately so enjoyable is that the director is able to take often used genre tropes and approach them in a far from workman-like manner, creating something that readily embraces the slasher sub-genre and differs enough to make it ultimately worthwhile.

As the flashy, and admittedly cool Seven inspired opening credits montage tells us, something bad lives in the mountains of Norway. Something that has racked up a body count of over 100 people over the past couple decades; something that leaves no trace of its victims, leaving befuddled search-and-rescue teams to assume the missing were hit by avalanches, or other mountain associated hazards. Finally, it has ties to a young boy being chased, and killed in the snow, though the exact connection is unanswered until the very end of the film.

Enter 5 young friends seeking skiing-and-snowboard-related merriment: couples Jannicke and Eirik, Ingunn and Mikal, and fifth-wheel Morten Tobias, a.k.a, "The Funny Guy". Any fan worth his salt will easily be able to see the large "INSERT AXE OR OTHER SHARP/BLUNT OBJECT HERE" floating over his head. The fun ceases, (or increases, depending on your moral stand point), when Morten breaks his leg in a snowboarding accident. Too far from their car, or any other signs of civilization, the group seeks refuge inside an abandoned ski-lodge, that, judging by appearances, is likely related to the Overlook. After using super-glueing Morten's wound closed, with an appropiatly horrified reaction from the 'patient', the remaining 4 explore the lodge, unaware that the aforementioned force from the opening credits calls the hotel 'home', and he does not take kindly to strangers...

Surprisingly, the film does not take its main strength from its kills; in fact, the kills, though they definitely pack an 'oomph', they are relatively bloodless. The movie's power source is in fact the writing of its protagonists. Inside of being mere cardboard cutouts, manufactured by the fine folks at "Slasher Central Casting", that exist merely to be killed in the most horrific ways possible, these are, *GASP*, actual people. Actual, surprisingly lifelike characters with believable worries and fears, which makes the audience connection that much stronger then most slasher fare. An example: the character who is all over her new boyfriend whenever someone isn't looking (i.e. blinking), in this case, Ingunn, would be branded by any other film as The Slut. And, as the 'rules' decree, she would be killed either in the process of sex, or immediately after sex. However, not only is she a VIRGIN, she's actually hesitant over actually having sex, whereas her boyfriend, Mikal, is the one pushing for them to 'take their relationship to the next level', and reacts in a surprisingly callous way when she suggests they wait. Also, the Final Girl, Jannicke, is not the virginal heroine most have come to expect. She fears moving in with Eirik, his own suggestion, will in some way erode the magic of their relationship, and that they will likely find themselves falling out of love soon enough. Naturally, there is a slight, unspoken tension between the two because of this, but luckily not nearly to the point where the romantic melodrama becomes its own, unnecessary subplot. Here's looking at you, Spider-Man 3. Finally, the comic-relief has been in love with Jannicke for years, a love that he knows will never come to fruition, making him all the more vulnerable, and surprisingly, non-annoying for it. Granted, these aren't hugely deep or insightful character trait, but they don't have to be; they're just realistic and sympathetic enough to make the audience actually care what happens to them, making the lead up to the kills all the more suspenseful.

Those going in expecting a MBV3D-style gore fest will likely come out disappointed. Instead of relying on flying viscera to amuse the audience, the film instead is a slow burning exercise in suspense. The tension is gained from the characters exploring the various hotel rooms, some of which bear the marks of past actions of violence. From a room ravaged by flame, walls spattered with may be blood, a broken window with hair and blood on the edges, to a missing axe, it is apparent that not all is well in this lodge. Or maybe, as Mikal glibly remarks, "Someone just wanted an axe". Following the murder of one of the characters, a short, brutally effective stalk set piece, the realization that something is very wrong climaxes when Jannicke and Mikal discover the killer's trophy room (a chilling scene marred only by Jannicke and Mikal responing by nervously laughing and thinking nothing of it until later). That being said, what the kills lack in splashy-flashiness, they make up for by retaining an undeiniably brutal feeling to them. Especially the first kill. Yikes.

The film is shot beautifully, with the sweeping camera and many aerial shots capturing the full splendor of the mountain side; at first evoking a sense of beauty, only to later evoke a sense of dread and isolation. Like the original My Bloody Valentine the setting plays a key role in determining the look of the killer. Whereas that film had a miner, the boogeyman here is a man covered with appropiate gear for outdoor weather, a relatively simple look that manages to be extremely intimidating. There isn't quite enough time spent with him to establish much in the way of personality, but through sheer size, and animalistic grunts, and overall appearance, he's definitely able to hold his own with other slasher greats.

So, again, definitely not going to change the world, or usher in a whole new wave of cinema as we know it. But, there's nothing wrong with a film taking tired cliches and reviving them in a fresh, invigorating way. Besides, I'm just amazed by the fact that we have a successful foreign horror film that DOESN'T have an American remake in the works. Hope I didn't jinx it...

My Bloody Valentine 1981

Time for a history lesson, children. Way back when, a fascist organization that we know as the MPAA were beginning to crack down on horror films they deemed were offensive to the very morals of the American people. Obviously the entire country was unable to get off its high horse at the time... Then along comes a little Canadian production called My Bloody Valentine. What followed was the classic tale of David vs. Goliath. Except this time, Goliath won. Featuring ads run in newspapers and magazines that were apparently enough to make everyone sputter and drop their monocle into their tea, the director, George Mihalka, was forced to cut 9 minutes of material all relating to the murders. The result? A good deal many horror fans who were...perplexed, to say the least, when the mouth-wateringly gory stills promised to them by Fangoria were nowhere to be seen, leaving a film that while better then the rest, still felt curiously dry. Which brings us to now, where after 28 years of waiting, fans of the original will finally be able to see the film as it was meant to be seen with the Special Uncut Edition, which as the title implies, restores the scenes thought to be lost. Which brings us to the review...

I want to state this now: I am against large dances. Despite me being a curmudgeon before my time, I have a handful of good reasons: there's always the one guy who doesn't find someone to shuffle with, resulting in them brooding in a corner. This often results in them either killing themselves, killing those who spurned his affection, or he ends up being the guy who you read about in the newspapers; you know, "the guy who breaks into a daycare and turns the kiddies into mulch before being brought down by rhino tranquilizers". Or, the urge to dance can lead to explosions. You heard me. Explosions. Back in 1960, two mining supervisors left their post in order to attend a Valentine's Day dance. Their negligence resulted in an explosion that claimed the lives of four miners. The only one to survive was Harry Warden, via the cannibalization of his fallen friends. He later donned a miner jumpsuit, gas mask, and slaughtered the two responsible, ripping their hearts out, warning he'd return upon subsequent Valentine's Day dances. His future endeavors are then crushed when he's forcibly sentenced to a mental health hospital, where he remains to this day. Or does he...?

Flash forward 20 years later, and the small town of Valentine's Bluff is once again preparing for the holiday festivities. Hanniger Mines remains the lifeblood of the community, and the young men are obviously looking forward to shedding their protective outfits, washing away the grime, and having a night of fun, and in many cases, the prerequisite pre-marital sex. Unfortunately, its not all sunshine and butterflies. T.J. Hanniger has a problem, you see. When he left Valentine's Bluff some time back, presumably to do some soul searching, he came back to find his girlfriend has fallen into the arms of his rival, Axel (bearing a truly eerie resemblance to Aaron Eckhart) in his absence. Trouble is, he can't stop loving her. Of course, this leads to much butting-of-the-heads between the two men. Even more troubling, a series of violent murders has fallen upon the town, the wounds suggesting Warden has somehow returned. As the Valentine's Day dance draws near, and each new body bearing cryptic messages warning what fait awaits those who celebrate the holiday. Unfortunately, the best efforts of the police are hardly up to the task of competing with the sex drive of rambancious miners. Then does the blood truly begin to flow...

The first thing that makes this film immediately stand out from its ilk is the level of writing on hand. The relationships are portrayed here as being quite realistic, and as it is in real life, love is often a good deal more complicated then 'reel life' would have you believe. The love triangle between T.J., Axel, and Sara is realized extremely well; all three involved come off as suitably sympathetic, and there is no reall fault to be laid at anyone's feet. The characterizations are stronger then usual as well; instead of opting out for a yet another batch of fresh-faced teens who's main priorities are to smoke pot, drink beer, and get laid, the characters here are all well into their 20's and working class, and as mentioned before, bear actual burdens on their shoulders. Surprisingly, there aren't many characters that we long to have obliterated, with the exception of one guy who likely is a SCTV character who was left on the cutting room floor. The acting here, for the most part, is what we generally expect from a slasher film, though again, most of the principal players do a good job with what is required of them.

Story wise, the maniac-from-the-past-with-a-grudge-to-settle is hardly original, but Mihalka is able to wring a good deal of suspense from what may seem to be a cookie-cutter storyline. The cliches are firmly in place, such as a screeching old guy who gravely tells the frolickers of Harry Warden, only to have his warnings go unheeded. As well as a killer who seems to be in possession of ESP and the apparent ability to teleport around. One of the film's main strengths is its setting. Shot in the Maritimes, the film has a flavor that is uniquely Canadian, with the obvious maritime accents all the actors possess and more Moosehead Beer then you can shake a fist at. I lost count around the half-hour mark as to just how many Mooseheads were proudly in display. The mine that comes into play by the climax stands out as one of the most intensively claustrophobic setting ever seen in such a movie, and the fact that it was all location shooting adds to the realism of it all. And realism is what perhaps set this movie off the most. unlike almost every other slasher in existence, there is no 'Final Girl' as we know it; there are no improbable acts of heroism, and the killer is not a supernatural force of vengeance, just a man.

On to the kills. Lets just say, the wait was definitely worth it. Even though the new footage is slightly degraded, it really doesn't matter al that much, and seeing Harry Warden's uncensored rampage was more than enough to make up for the poorer quality. The kills are as brutal as anything I've ever seen, and a few contain extremely striking imagery. I'll just say one word: 'showerhead'.

Almost all slasher films live or die by the strength of their killer, and MBV sports what is undoubtedly my favorite slasher. Warden is the very definition of 'menace': clad in the work boots,, the black suit, and the helmet/gas mask ensemble, he truly is a force to reckon with, and coupled with the heavy, Darth Vader-esque breathing, he easily stands as one of the most frightening killers ever to stalk the screen, and it is truly head scratching to know that he hasn't joined the ranks of slasher royalty along side the likes of Voorhees, Myers, etc.

So, is this film art? Hell no. Does it stand head and shoulders over what is generally a sea of mediocrity? You better believe it. So take these words to heart: come Valentine's Day, cuddle up with a loved one, turn the lights out, and watch the blood fly.