This little bugger can best be summed up as an el cheapo, dishwater bland port of Halloween, with one, single solitary bit of brilliance that can be seen as a mild hiccup (which I will completely give away later on). Despite this, they managed to cajole a nearly star studded cast: the late, great Stuart Whitman, the never-great-yet-utterly-iconic-and-oh-so-alive Danny Bonduce, and that beefy dude from the Elvira movie, whatever the fuck his name is (I keep forgetting*).
Stuart and his hunky sidekick are the badged bacon hell bent on bagging this turkey. There is also some creepy drifter in town, whom I suppose is a red herring, but the storytelling is not overly precise in this regard. The drifter asks some blonde if he could chop firewood for a sandwich, and it turns out she is waiting for Bonaduce and his girlfriend to come over for dinner. Danny is sweet enough to bring along a shitty cake to the dinner party, prepared while listening to the most aurally criminal synth burps you could possibly concoct baked goods to.
Our killer decides to pull the old "walk into a mechanic’s garage, lower a jack, and let a car crush a grease monkey just because" gag. In a more innovative maneuver, he finds a couple on the road with a broken car, sticks an axe in the guy, and shoves the girl’s head in the fan belt. Unfortunately for the trough slurping arm of justice, the victims are Whitman’s hunky sidekick and his girlfriend. It turns out they were also on their way to the dinner party, which seems like a wild coincidence if you look at it critically (you know, if story and shit is important to you).
Our bland ass victims-to-be engage in dinner and conversation, talking about important subjects like relationships and life and whatever and stuff. Our killer is all together less social, and instead spends time murdering a guy working on a power line. Meanwhile, the guy tells Danny that he'll turn into Orson Welles if he keeps stuffing his face, which, considering Orson’s brilliance, is quite a compliment. Danny then expresses the desire to play Yahtzee, for which he is immediately sent home, and rightfully so, since Yahtzee is for queers.
Our blonde heroine kicks out the group and thankfully decides to take a bath, allowing the audience to witness the erotic breadth of her nude inserts. The drifter interrupts this sudsy escapade and ties her up, as he must hate fake nudity as much as I do. She eventually breaks free and gets in her car, but of course, it won’t start, because it is a big giant piece of American-made garbage. She then gets forced into an impromptu picnic with this freak, but manages to escape, running…running…running some more, until she bumps into the dead dude from the electric company. This allows time for the speedy drifter asshole to catch up and drag her all the way back to the house.
(spoilers here on out, but I don't think this piece of shit can really be spoiled)
Meanwhile, Bob, our “real” hero, is constantly calling the house, but ominously keeps getting a busy signal. Bob visits Bonaduce and starts sweating and twitching, apparently upset about the blonde not responding to his advances, or indeed, even picking up the phone. He is so upset that he throws Danny onto a table (as if to say “take that Bonadouche!”). He then tosses his ass head-first (I mean his head goes in first; he doesn’t have an “ass head”, whatever that is) into the TV, before choking Danny’s girlfriend to death. This televised destruction of Mr. Bonadouche is that bit of innovation I referenced earlier. Not only is it original, it is fucking “ha ha” funny. I guess that means Bob is the escaped killer…or maybe he is in cahoots with the drifter…or maybe he has extreme anger issues, and the drifter is the real asshole killer. Well, no matter. I’m not worried. Stuart Whitman is on the fucking case.
Bob heads over to the blonde’s house where he, the drifter, and the some guy who showed up asking for directions have a little tumble in the living room. The drifter gets deservedly stabbed, and also gets shot when the pork patrol finally shows. Our killer unfortunately escapes, and lands a construction job, which I guess is one of those "social commentary twist endings". Evil lives to fight another day, capable of murder at a moment’s notice, subverting unions by accepting shit pay and zero benefits.
Apart from the positives noted above, I do have a few bones of contention. Namely, the movie is friggin’ boring and mostly terrible, but the biggest crime here is that the back of the box proclaims that the movie is "in the tradition of Hitchcock".
Honestly…fuck you. Seriously. The word fuck and the letter “U”.
*His name is Daniel Greene, and he pops up in a bunch of low budget genre stuff. His name is apparently too generic for me to process.