Originally released in 1986, Truth or Dare: A Critical Madness has become a cult horror classic. This low-budget film, shot on 16mm, still resonates with fans of 1980s horror. It gained renewed attention when Elijah Wood called it his all-time favorite horror movie.

Truth or Dare remains one of the first direct-to-video, and it’s high time someone — like SRS — put them all out in one set.

Truth or Dare: A Critical Madness (1986): In the 1985 horror anthology, Tim Ritter created a short called “Truth or Dare” in the movie Twisted Illusions. A year later, he’d expand that story into this slasher.

While most 18-year-olds were worrying about prom, Tim Ritter was in Palm Beach County orchestrating a bloodbath. Despite the SO aesthetic common to the era, shooting on 16mm gave it a slightly more cinematic, if not grimy, texture.

The drama behind the scenes was as chaotic as the film itself. The creative differences”between Ritter and producer Yale Wilson led to Ritter being locked out of the editing room and taken off the credits. Wilson’s cut was the one that hit the shelves of mom-and-pop video stores, leading to a long-standing rift that Ritter finally resolved in later “Director’s Cuts.”

Mike Strauber (John Brace) finds his wife Sharon in bed with his best friend Jerry, and poor Mike has the kind of mental breakdown that inevitably turns one into a slasher villain. 

The hitchhiker sequence is the film’s first true water-cooler moment, as if anyone works in a real office anymore or would discuss SOV murders at said water cooler. As Mike drives, he hallucinates a passenger who goads him into a self-mutilating game of Truth or Dare. The practical effects here, with Mike slicing into his own arms and chest with a razor blade, are uncomfortably tactile. When the camera reveals the passenger seat is empty, we realize we aren’t watching a standard slasher; we’re watching a breakdown.

A year later, Mike gets released from the Sunnyville Mental Institution. Blame budget cuts. Blame too many patients. Blame the fact that Mike is both crazy and smart. His good behavior is noticed, and the first thing he does when he gets out is kill Jerry and then go after his ex-wife. When he’s wounded in this murder attempt, he goes back to Sunnyville and is soon back to hallucinating disfigured patients telling him to destroy his face and wear a mask. After one of the attendants is dumb enough to taunt Mike with a photo of his ex-wife, he stabs the orderly with a pencil to the eye, Fulci-style and finds a cache of weapons, because that’s exactly what is sitting around a mental hospital.

At this point, Mike just goes wild, committing crimes such as hitting a stroller with his car — the baby launches high in the air — and then going back to roll over the mother; machine gunning an entire bench full of senior citizens; doing a drive-by chainsawing of a Little League player, and finally trying to kill his wife all over again. Oh, Mike, they’re just going to put you back in Sunnyville.

Ridiculous in all ways and therefore worth watching. I also believe that Rob Zombie completely stole the papier-mâché first mask Michael wears in his remake from this movie.

Truth or Dare: Wicked Games (1994): You can kind of sort of consider this the sequel to Tim Ritter’s Truth or Dare, even if it has none of the same characters, except that Gary (Kevin Scott Crawford) is the cousin of that first movie’s Mike. He’s having a lot of the same issues that that guy once did as he comes home to catch his wife riding another man. Now, a copper masked killer is running around and Gary’s friend Dan (Joel D. Wynkoop) starts to think that his buddy is that slasher.

We’re back to Sunnyville Mental Hospital, where Dr. Seidow (co-writer Kermit Christman) and it turns out that there may be more than one killer. Spoiler, there totally is or maybe this is all in Mike’s head and he’s been thinking of killing again. Dan is into kinky sex, Dr. Seidow is a maniac obsessed with one of his patients who likes to burn herself with cigarettes and all three — four — of them hate women.

The opening is a deliberate echo of the first film, the ultimate déjà vu of domestic betrayal. However, Gary’s reaction is less of a silent break and more of a loud, messy implosion. It sets the tone for a movie that isn’t just about a killer, but about a community of broken, predatory men.

It’s also the only film I’ve ever seen where a slasher takes a moment to take a bite of a sandwich while chasing his victim. It also has someone get killed with a sprinkler. By that, I’m saying they get a sprinkler jammed right through them.

Replacing the papier-mâché with a copper mask gives the killer a more urban legend feel. It’s cold, reflective and fits the 90s direct-to-video aesthetic while maintaining that homemade creepiness that makes these movies feel like they were found in a basement.

There’s another somewhat sequel to Truth or Dare, Writer’s Block, but that movie doesn’t have insane genius — I say that in the nicest of ways, trust me — of Tim Ritter, who imbues this with plenty of ridiculous energy. Is it central Florida giallo? Nearly.

Screaming for Sanity: Truth or Dare 3 (1998): In the years since Mike Strauber first put on the mask, a whole universe has started to swirl amongst him, like the man who treated him, Dr. Dan Hess (Joel D. Wynkoop), who also hates Mike; Clive Stanley (Ken Blanck), who was a victim of Strauber’s murder spree and lost his wife and child when they were run over in the first film; the man treating him, Dr. Reznor (Maurice Mayberry Jr.) and Ken Kregg (Franklin E. Wales), who is selling merchandise related to the killings.

In the original 1986 film, Clive was just a background casualty of Mike’s nihilism, the man who lost his wife and child in the infamous stroller/car sequence. Clive isn’t just a survivor; he’s a man whose soul was deleted by Mike Strauber. His habit of slicing himself open isn’t just a callback to Mike’s razor-blade game; it’s a physical manifestation of his Survivor’s Guilt. He is literally carving Mike’s legacy into his own skin.

Oh yeah, the copper mask is back and worn by people who dream of being Mike or want to have sex with him. Plus, Dr. Hess is also being stalked, and his wife even gets nailed to a wall. Having Joel D. Wynkoop return, this time as Dr. Dan, creates a delicious bit of casting confusion for Ritter fans. Is he the same Dan from Wicked Games? In the Ritter-verse, the faces remain the same even as the roles shift.

Hess represents the medical establishment that failed to contain Mike. His hatred for Strauber isn’t just professional; it’s visceral. Watching his life get dismantled, specifically the brutal imagery of his wife nailed, proves that in the Truth or Dare cinematic universe, being near Mike Strauber is a death sentence for your loved ones.

Directed by Ritter, who wrote it with Ron Bonk and Kevin J. Lindenmuth, this is the Truth or Dare? sequel I always wanted. This is totally for continuity nerds, where a supporting character becomes the lead.

By ending on a cliffhanger, Ritter essentially promises that the critical madness is an infinite loop. It’s not about Mike the man anymore; it’s about Mike the Idea.

And hey — footage from the first movie comes back! This then sets up the next film, which I appreciate.

Deadly Dares: Truth or Dare Part IV (2011): Tim Ritter updates the franchise’s core theme: the dangerous intersection of fragile male egos and deadly games. In 1986, Mike Strauber was driven mad by a private game; in 2011, Tuner Downing (Casey Miracle) is driven mad by a public one.

Directed by Ritter (who wrote the script) and Joel D. Wynkoop, this follows the theme of all these films: women break men when they dump them, games of truth or dare can quickly turn deadly, and lots of people will be killed. Rose (Heather Price) Tuner’s girlfriend left him because he wouldn’t get naked for a dare video. This leads Tuner to DareTube.com, which acts like the Ice Bucket Challenge, except the dares get as wacky as you’d hope.

This entry ditches the 16mm grain and the 90s camcorder fuzz for a sharp, sterile digital look. It makes the violence feel more real and less cinematic, mimicking the actual videos found on the dark corners of the internet.

Tuner’s friend Axel (Billy W. Blackwell) and his perhaps new girl, Dara (Jessica Cameron), grab a video camera and head out to record dares, while Tuner paints his face copper. As those dares get more intense, Tuner breaks into the mental hospital where Strauber has been kept, only for it to end up being Rose, who was trying to see if he’d do the ultimate dare to prove his love. She stabs him, he dies…

Turning the final girl into the villain is a sharp subversion. When Rose reveals that the breakout was a test. It reframes the entire franchise. It suggests that the women in this universe aren’t just victims; they are the architects of the games that destroy the men.

The final revelation that the entire movie — the breakout, the murders, the betrayal — has all been a dying hallucination as Tuner kills himself is the ultimate “Ritter” ending. It’s a return to the psychological roots of the original. Mike Strauber’s legacy isn’t a body count; it’s a mental illness that convinces you to destroy yourself.

I Dared You!: Truth or Dare Part V (2017): Directed by Tim Ritter and Scott Tepperman, this centers on a man named Dax (Tepperman) has gone insane after a past attack by Mike Strauber. Since then, he’s grown angry not just at his attacker, but with the man who let him go, Dr. Dan Hess (Joel D. Wynkoop), who is now a private detective.

Before we get to that. we see Dax in a video store, where he finds a copy of the original movie. A woman grows angry at him and chases him from the store, as he steals a porn magazine. As he reads it in the woods, he is attacked by Strauber, becoming one of the victims of the infamous chainsaw car attack from all the way back in 1986.

Now, Chainsaw Dax wears a half-mask, much like the man who ruined his face. He starts killing — and playing truth or dare — while Hess searches for people using the DareTube.com site, which has been up for a few years, so they must have good SEO.

The man who treated Dax, Dr. Desmond Hall (Jim O’Rear) was really setting this all up, putting Dax on the path to murder, setting him up with Sara (Trish Erickson-Martin) and putting him after Hess, all because that man stole his woman. So Dax goes and records Hess having sex with Linda (Ashley Lynn Caputo) and posts it on the internet, which in no way seems as godo of a revenge as killing someone. Linda gets kidnapped and Hess has to do a series of dares, like taking heroin which is just a bunch of video effects, to save his wife.

After cutting off his own finger, robbing a bank, hitting a cross-dressing Dr. Hall with an axe and jaming a syringe into Dax’s eyeball, Hess finds his wife and walks away.

Seeing Dax find a physical copy of the original Truth or Dare creates a movie-within-a-movie loop. It suggests that in this universe, Mike Strauber’s crimes were so infamous they were turned into the very exploitation films we are watching. By the time Hess walks away, the franchise has come full circle. It started with a man losing his mind over a cheating wife and ends with a man losing his finger (and his dignity) to save one.

Extras on this SRS blu-ray release include all new commentary tracks, short films, trailers, photo galleries, interviews, making ofs, behind the scenes footage and more. You can get this from MVD.

A one-and-done SOV by George Keller, this one lives up to the promise of its title: worms from space come to Earth and, well, devour folks. No more, no less.

Or maybe more. This is a noir movie masquerading as SOV, a film where, instead of a black-and-white, rainy, smoky night, we’re seeing downtown LA in VHS-scanline, bright-sun quality, as synth tunes bleat over us. There is something deeply unsettling about seeing cosmic horror occur in a mundane, over-exposed apartment lit only by a sliding glass door. It feels less like a movie and more like a crime scene video captured by a neighbor who happened to have a Panasonic Camcorder. For example, a camcorder saving for posterity mountains of coke getting devoured by space grossness and interstellar maggots that can eat your flesh down to the bone in just moments.

Michael Sonye, who is also Dukey Flyswatter, was in tons of aberrant cinema. The Death Bed: The Bed That Eats remake, Roller Blade Warriors: Taken by Force, The Phantom Empire…the guy was the Imp’s voice in Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama! He also played Irving Klaw in Bettie Page: Dark Angel and was the Clitmaster in both Tales from the Clit movies. But wait — there’s more. He wrote Frozen Scream, Star Slammer, Commando Squad, Blood Diner, Cold Steel and Out on Bail. And he did the music for The Dead Hate the Living!, Cyclone and Nightmare Sisters and was in the Los Angeles glam-punk scene with his band, Haunted Garage.

There’s an actress named Tequilla Mockingbird. I really don’t know how much more this movie could give us.

You can watch this on YouTube.

The Trash Humpers are running through the streets of Nashville, causing chaos everywhere they go, which mostly means making people eat pancakes covered in soap, choking out baby dolls with plastic bags and killing a poet. They’re also all mostly old men or men wearing old man masks. They are very dada; nothing means anything. Momma (Rachel Korine), the only female member, kidnaps a child to add some meaning to her life, while the man recording all of this, Hervé (Harmony Korine), at least tries to explain to the viewer the ethos of the group.

One night, as he looked at trash cans in the moonlight, Korine remembered a gang of old men peeping toms who would come out at night, referring to them as “the neighborhood boogeymen who worked at Krispy Kreme and would wrap themselves in shrubbery, cover themselves with dirt, and peep through the windows of other neighbors.” Using video — yes, SOV — made the images softer and less sharp, which he was looking for. It was even edited on two VCRs.

The tracking errors and static make the viewer feel like a voyeur watching something they aren’t supposed to see. A snuff film of human dignity, I guess. This feels like the kind of movies we filmed as kids and then realized we’d get arrested if anyone found them.

I’d like to say that when the Trash Humpers scream “Make it, make it don’t fake it!” or cackle while smashing televisions, they aren’t protesting society; they are simply existing outside of it. They’re celerating the discarded: people, formats (VHS) and things. Did I go too A24 with this? Korine said, “I wanted to make a film that looked like it had been found in a bag of trash on the side of the road, or buried in a basement.” 

You can download this from the Internet Archive.

Directed by John Duncan, who also made Black River Monster, The Hackers is a Michigan SOV by way of rednecksploitation that is all about the Hacker family: Pa (Howard Coburn), his sons Arnie (Dale Caughel) and Eldon Junior (Steve Prichard), who already cut off most of his face with a chainsaw, so he wears a mask. You may watch this and wonder, ” Am I watching a cosplay Sawyer family? You sure are. But the actors are all in, so let’s go for it too.

The film’s pacing is a strange, hypnotic slurry. In between unsettling trips to a local playground, the Hackers operate a makeshift handyman service. Their business model is simple: if the invoice isn’t settled, the client is liquidated. The body count swells with disgruntled employers, unlucky hitchhikers, and a local farmer who ends up a grisly piece of outdoor decor. Just as the viewer begins to wonder if there’s a narrative compass, the plot arrives in the form of Marcie (Michelle Rank). Dispatched by her boss to oversee roof repairs on a summer home, she brings her sister Angelia (Denise Ferris) along for a getaway that quickly sours.

It also has some fishing.

I’ve done the kind of work the Hackers do, and I feel some catharsis watching this, imagining getting people back for shortening my day by slicing them to pieces. It’s cheap, it’s quick, and it’s all that is good and warm about SOV.

You can watch this on YouTube.

You know the style of Rinse Dream and the Dark Brothers? What if they did that, but there was no penetration? Well, I think it would be close to this movie. Well, there is a blowjob, so give them that much.

A note to the non-perverts: I’m referring to the neon-lit, 35 mm grindhouse-on-video adult vibe that was big at one point in the late 80s and early 90s. See Party Doll-A-Go-Go, Cafe Flesh, New Wave Hookers or Nightdreams (which is nearly too fancy to fit in).

Directed by Jacques Boyreau and filmed at the Werepad artspace in San Francisco, this features numerous characters pitching ideas for exploitation movies to a producer with skeleton hands, which I would like to think is a tribute to Death Bed: The Bed That Eats. The club has a 60s look, people do kung fu like Dolemite, and there’s just a lot of talking. There was a time when I’d have to search all over for a VHS of this. Now, I just got online.

It was probably more fun to be there than it was to watch.

You can watch this on YouTube.

Imagine if Alien Beasts had a sequel, but one that Boogieman II handled, where you’re never sure if you’re seeing the same movie, a re-edit or whatever this is, a movie mainly having you stare at old monitors while a monotone voice repeats the lines several times. It’s a drone on a drone on a drone, and yet it wrapped me in a warm blanket and coaxed me into a feeling of comotose oneness, a place where I don’t think about the fact that doing five days of emotionally exhausting work only gives you two days off and more than most of those days is spent worrying about the next five days. Instead, let’s discuss monsters, mutants and the hum of old video camera footage. It’s better that way.

Carl J. Sukenick makes movies with titles like Lesbian Beasts 5000 AD, The Toxic Retards, Stamp Killer and Ninja Dream. These movies may all have reused footage from the one that preceded it, but who are we to tell Carol how to do what he does? He doesn’t come to the corner and knock the dick out of our mom’s mouth, after all.

Letterboxd describes this movie as follows: “Aliens are turning people into mutants. Opening scene features claymation.”

What a simple TV Guide one-line take on such insanity.

There is a Mutant Massacre, but again, both movies all come from Alien Beasts, a film — charitably a film — that has dialogue like “My friend Joe put on anti-radiation clothing and tried to stop the female enemy agent! My friend Joe, I repeat, put on anti-radiation clothing and tried to stop the female enemy agent from stealing the weapons from the base.”

I love that Carl got his dad, some fireworks and some friends to fight in the backyard and turned it into movies that morons like me ponder over and write thousands of words trying to ascribe some meaning to, in a world where meaning is a maelstrom and that making sense of things feels harder by the day. 

“After the meeting, Joe notified Carl that there were traitors on their mission. After the meeting, Joe notified Carl that there were traitors on their mission.”

How did Carl get a woman to put on a mask, take off her top, and, most importantly, show up in this? 

That said, I would rewatch this or another version of this over nearly anything currently playing in a theater.

I Will Dance on Your Grave, I Will Dance on Your Grave: Savage Vengeance, I Spit on Your Grave 2: Savage Vengeance — whatever you call this, it’s a kind of, sort of sequel to I Spit On Your Grave, to the point that Camille Keaton is in it, using the name Vickie Kehl. In fact, she even has the same name as the original, Jennifer.

How can every movie that followed the scummy first movie be so much worse?

Man, Camille Keaton has had it rough in the movies. She started as Solange in What Have You Done to Solange?, playing the doomed girl around whom the entire movie’s narrative revolves. She’s also in some further Italian weirdness like Tragic Ceremony, Sex of the Witch and Madeleine: Anatomy of a Nightmare before being decimated at length in Day of the Woman AKA  I Spit On Your Grave. I’ve spent so much time considering rape revenge (and revengeomatic) movies, that force us through so much pain in order to get to the catharsis; do we need so much pain to get to redemption? 

And yet here we are again, as this starts with Jennifer being assaulted by four men in a park, then is doxxed by a law professor, revealing to their class that she killed everyone who attacked her and got away with it. Angry, she goes on a vacation with her friend Sam (Linda Lyer), which ends up with — you guessed it — Sam being raped and killed before Jennifer is attacked and left for dead, stabbed in the chest. Well, you also can prognosticate that Jennifer returns, with a chainsaw and shotgun, and slices men’s heads in two and blasts another right in the dick. 

Shot in Tennessee for $6,000 by Donald Farmer, this had some insane behind the scenes happenings, according to critic Dan Tabor: “The strangest part in all of this is Camille Keaton under the name Vickie Kehl actually decided to go along with it and star in the film even though she was married to Meir Zarchi who directed the original I Spit on Your Grave. So she had to know this film was done without his permission. But after filming concluded on No Justice, she began shooting what amounted to a fan film, only to change her mind halfway through production. It’s rumored she called her husband, crying, and left the film about 75% finished, which is why this film barely clocks in at over an hour.”

When Keaton walked off, Farmer was left with a jigsaw puzzle where half the pieces were missing, leading to the disjointed, dream-like (or nightmare-like) pacing that defines the final cut. Meir threatened to sue, which is why there’s so much ADR that changes plot details. One assumes that Farmer was going to go all The Boogieman and use footage from the first movie to set things up. Now, he would have to remake that, and in the attack, no one takes off their pants. Farmer claimed the DP — he had a DP on this? — didn’t like the idea of making the sexual moments dirty. 

The bad guys, Dwayne and Tommy, are cartoonish versions of the squalid original bad guys. In fact, Tommy even keeps dead bodies in his house. This film is like a cover band version of a great band, and it just reminds you to enjoy the inspiration, not what Xeroxes what you already liked. The lack of grime makes the cartoonish villains feel less like threats and more like community theater actors who wandered onto the wrong set.

I asked, “Do we need so much pain to get to redemption?” The original I Spit on Your Grave argued that the audience must earn its comeuppance by enduring the assault in real time. Savage Vengeance fails because it treats the assault like a box to be checked; at least Meir’s movie has something resembling a soul. This is…man, what a weird film. I’m amazed that it exists.

You can watch this on YouTube.

“Mr. Ice Cream Man or call me Master P

I got that 2 for 3, call me if you need some D

Me and my little brother Silkk, we be ballin’

Got this thang sewed up from Texas to New Orleans”

No, this is not a Master P song.

Nor is it the Clint Howard-starring, Norman Apstein-directed (really Paul Norman, director of adult films like Bi and Beyond before making straight adult and being married to Celete and Tori Welles) direct-to-video film Ice Cream Man.

The film is truly the singular vision of Mack Hail, who didn’t just write, direct and star, but also reportedly handled much of the production legwork in Las Vegas. His performance as the titular killer is less maniacal slasher and more deeply awkward neighbor, which contributes to the film’s uncanny, dreamlike quality. The dialogue often feels improvised or captured in single takes, giving it a raw, voyeuristic energy common in Las Vegas regional filmmaking of that period.

66 minutes of missing children, it feels shot on video and may have a great stalking beginning with an ice cream truck following some little fellers, but then when we get to the movie, you may – if you’re me – wonder if you’ve seen too many slashers as you watch this.

Ice Cream Man was abandoned by his mother outside a liquor store as a child, so that’s why he’s become a child taking and killing machine. There’s also a PG feel to this, despite the stranger-danger elements and off-screen kills. I say boo and hiss to this, as we’re watching slashers because we’re creepy people who need to see murder set pieces.

If you grew up in the 90s, this has the brands, the colors and the rememberberries that you want. Somehow, in the world of this movie, boys and girls can stay at the same slumber party, and obviously, neither Pepsi nor Coke paid to be in this, but as we all know, many slashers have shots of brand soda because, well, to be honest, I don’t get it myself. What if Shashta or RC Cola wanted to escape the soft drink basement and their strategy was to be in off-brand slashers?

This may have been made between 1991 and 1996 and wasn’t released until the 2000s. It’s better directed than it has any right to be and that’s because Hail used actual locations rather than sets. The opening stalking sequence utilizes the wide, sun-bleached Las Vegas suburban streets to create a sense of exposure and isolation that higher-budget films often miss.

You can watch this on YouTube.

Dr. Thorn (Albert Eskinazi) isn’t your average medical professional. He’s a man who treats a turkey baster like a surgical instrument, and his patients like scraps for the bin. In a brisk yet grueling 57 minutes, Thorn balances a busy schedule performing cut-rate abortions, moonlighting as a serial killer to finish the job at his patients’ homes and ignoring his wife, Claire (Irmgard Millard), in favor of staring blankly at the wall or dreaming of ritualistically stabbing baby dolls.

If you’ve already left from that description, well, you aren’t reading this.

For the rest of us who have stuck around, welcome to the world of Nick Millard.

The doctor is in, and he brought a cleaver, a hammer and a knife. You will see what happens in grisly detail, and by that, I mean the effects of magic you may have come to expect from Millard.

Like a true SOV auteur, Millard doesn’t let a good asset go to waste. Much like the Criminally Insane/Crazy Fat Ethel naming shell game, Doctor Gore is a masterclass in recycling. It features the same droning, hypnotic soundtrack and even reuses the credit sequence from Crazy Fat Ethel, listing actors who aren’t even in the building. It’s not just a movie; it’s a lore-heavy puzzle for the depraved.

The plot thickens when Claire reveals she’s been funding and bedding a Polish poet. When she ends up pregnant and asks her husband to handle it, the movie shifts from a standard slasher into a domestic nightmare of epic, low-fi proportions.

Less than an hour of your life lived in endless drone and muddy VHS distortion. You should be so lucky.

The Twin Palms Trailer Park isn’t just a setting; it’s a buffet. Wilma and Buddy’s urban renewal plan via supernatural pest control is peak landlord villainy. By weaponizing John Devereux Laporte, they’ve turned a 17th-century aristocrat into a glorified hitman. A man who once owned plantations and lived in opulence is now reduced to hunting in a trailer park, his refined palate ruined by the gamey flavor of the elderly and the marginalized. His projectile vomiting isn’t just a gross-out gag. It’s his body literally rejecting the low-class blood he’s forced to consume. He’s a bulimic blue-blood in a Walmart world.

Between the vampire and a teenage crime duo, Buzz (Bently Tittle) and Jana (Blake Pickett), they’re clearing the place out and getting ready to sell the trailer park at a profit, even if every old person has to die.
How do you catch a vampire in a regional SOV horror movie? Well, if you’re this Florida-made wonder, you hire Jennifer Baiswell (Kathy Moran), a psychic who is joined by Detective Andrew Holt (Robin Shurtz). I have no idea how they’re getting paid, as their client has been killed by one of the bloodsuckers. And then there’s Aunt Hattie (Ethel Miller), who seems to drive our vampire anywhere they need to go.

Meanwhile, Jennifer has a psychic connection to her grandmother, often finding herself possessed by her. Can you be possessed by someone who isn’t dead yet? As for the vampire, he was a plantation owner and certainly a rich man, now left to be bulimic because he isn’t eating the best of food. Old people are kind of gamey, I guess. Just listen to what the dialogue has to say about him: “John Devereux Laporte, died 1746. Our job was to make sure he died again, this time for keeps. In life, Laporte was an obscenely wealthy Louisiana planter and slaveowner, the last of his line, a true aristocrat, a born leader of men. You know, a real asshole!”

There’s a hypnotic TV, SOV drone, original songs, way too much plot and a few laughs, some of which work.

Director Steve Latshaw would go on to make Jack-O, Return of the Killer Shrews and Biohazard: The Alien Force with Moran writing.

You can watch this on YouTube.