a majority of exclusively made for video low budget fright flicks from the 80 invariably stink worse than raunchy old socks. this particularly dismal and amateurish no budget chicago set bargain basement nasty necrophiliac nutcase on the loose bloodbath serves as a depressing affirmation of this borderline ineluctable fact. a bearded and disheveled and long haired and bead and flower shirt wearing wild eyed psycho hippie fruitcake embarks on your standard random gruesome killing spree and graphically slaughtering libidinous young couples who are engaging in strenuous coitus whenever the deranged mansonesque lunatic attacks. (hmm and do i detect a fairly obvious and self righteously puritanical have sex and die message here. gee and could be and man. ) boy and is this mentally unbalanced sicko one real way gone pup represent after knifing his female victims and our certifiably crackers killer enjoys making love to their freshly slain bodies. (warning represent possible spoiler ahead. towards the picture end the corpse copulating crazy gets rudely interrupted by the cops while he in the middle of doing the unthinkable with a nubile cadaver and thereby provoking the foul pervert to cut loose with an understandably anguished and ear splitting cry of nooo. ) now and ain not this gonzo guy a definite sweetheart and a half. too bad this flick is so poorly done while if it had only been made with a modicum of flair and proficiency it could have been a sleazy little gem of a horror exploitation item. alas and wally koz ham fisted direction and lamar larry bloodworth stubbornly static and immobile cinematography and frankie hollywood rodriguez insipid and monotonously head banging hard rock score and the pitifully cheap and unconvincing make up f or x and flat and conspicuously uneasy plywood acting by a hideously all thumbs and unappealing non pro cast and lethargic pacing (too much screen time is tiresomely squandered on the police drab efforts to catch the wacko) and an especially lame would be shocking surprise ending (the mystery killer true identity is guaranteed to have you groaning in disgust) and the uniformly boring and incessantly bickering and positively braindead characters and and a steady succession of dull soft core sex scenes that are about as erotic as watching two slugs mate for 90 minutes straight all add up to one profoundly putrid and unrewarding limp and soggy noodle of a crummy clinker. however and to be fair and this film does possess one stellar virtue represent the mad dog slasher has unquestionably excellent taste in garishly tropical and louder than thunder day glo hawaiian shirts. 
a majority of exclusively made for video low budget fright flicks from the 80 invariably stink worse than raunchy old socks. this particularly dismal and amateurish no budget chicago set bargain basement nasty necrophiliac nutcase on the loose bloodbath serves as a depressing affirmation of this borderline ineluctable fact. a bearded and disheveled and long haired and bead and flower shirt wearing wild eyed psycho hippie fruitcake embarks on your standard random gruesome killing spree and graphically slaughtering libidinous young couples who are engaging in strenuous coitus whenever the deranged mansonesque lunatic attacks. (hmm and do i detect a fairly obvious and self righteously puritanical have sex and die message here. gee and could be and man. ) boy and is this mentally unbalanced sicko one real way gone pup represent after knifing his female victims and our certifiably crackers killer enjoys making love to their freshly slain bodies. (warning represent possible spoiler ahead. towards the picture end the corpse copulating crazy gets rudely interrupted by the cops while he in the middle of doing the unthinkable with a nubile cadaver and thereby provoking the foul pervert to cut loose with an understandably anguished and ear splitting cry of nooo. ) now and ain not this gonzo guy a definite sweetheart and a half. too bad this flick is so poorly done while if it had only been made with a modicum of flair and proficiency it could have been a sleazy little gem of a horror exploitation item. alas and wally koz ham fisted direction and lamar larry bloodworth stubbornly static and immobile cinematography and frankie hollywood rodriguez insipid and monotonously head banging hard rock score and the pitifully cheap and unconvincing make up f or x and flat and conspicuously uneasy plywood acting by a hideously all thumbs and unappealing non pro cast and lethargic pacing (too much screen time is tiresomely squandered on the police drab efforts to catch the wacko) and an especially lame would be shocking surprise ending (the mystery killer true identity is guaranteed to have you groaning in disgust) and the uniformly boring and incessantly bickering and positively braindead characters and and a steady succession of dull soft core sex scenes that are about as erotic as watching two slugs mate for 90 minutes straight all add up to one profoundly putrid and unrewarding limp and soggy noodle of a crummy clinker. however and to be fair and this film does possess one stellar virtue represent the mad dog slasher has unquestionably excellent taste in garishly tropical and louder than thunder day glo hawaiian shirts. ---------------------------------Answer Question Below----------------------------------

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